by B. J. Beach
His final stint in the tunnel over at last, Karryl was feeling tired, sticky and uncomfortable. His tone had an edge. “My sore knees and stinging eyes will testify to the fact that this is not a dream. Now, do you want to transport these up the steps, or shall I do it?”
Looking somewhat contrite, Miqhal backed up to the bottom of the steps and stood up. Seconds later, Karryl’s skin tingled briefly as the Navigator floated swiftly and sedately up the stone flight, closely followed by the box. Karryl scrambled forward and pushed himself to his feet. With a few sighs and groans he stretched each of his cramped limbs in turn before pushing past Miqhal and dashing up the steps. He just glimpsed the artefacts parked to one side of the kitchen floor as he hurried past on his way out to the privy.
He returned to find Miqhal sitting cross-legged on the cold stone-flagged floor, picking warily at the strange dark grey material which covered the Navigator. Moonstone sat as close to the object as he could get, looking on.
Karryl pulled up a chair and dropped onto it. “You’re not going to unwrap them here are you?”
Miqhal shook his head and turned away from the artefacts. “No. They must stay in their coverings until they are once more with my people. I was simply curious about this strange fabric. It does not have the appearance of something woven.”
He said nothing further, simply dropped his hands into his lap and seemed to be staring at nothing in particular.
Beginning to feel a little uneasy, Karryl rested his elbows on his knees and leaned towards Miqhal. “There’s something on your mind. Is there a problem with those?”
His mouth set in a grim line, eyes wide with misgiving, the Jadhra looked up at him. “They are larger and heavier than I anticipated. I do not have the power to transport them such a distance. Even if I exhausted myself to the edge of death, I fear that in the attempt they would be lost forever.”
Slightly alarmed, Karryl ran his fingers through his dark and now rather messy hair while he considered Miqhal’s problem. He frowned. “You managed alright with Jaknu and bowman Buller. Why…?”
He stopped as the answer to his unfinished question came to him. Miqhal had gone with them, a constant source of power, and bearing no extra weight.
Sitting bolt upright Karryl slapped a hand on his knee. “We can do a multiple casting! You, me and Bardeen should have more than enough power between us.”
Miqhal shook his head. “Only if we travelled with the artefacts, and that will not be possible.”
“And why, might I ask, is that?”
They both turned to see Bardeen standing by the kitchen door, Miqhal’s colourful long-tailed bird perched comfortably on his shoulder. The old magician moved further into the room. “Unless of course, there is something you are keeping from us.”
The Jadhra warrior rose effortlessly to his feet and folded his arms across his chest. An almost rebellious gleam in his jet-black eyes, he steadily regarded the two magicians. “All I keep from you is the location of the fourth artefact. If you were to accompany me, it would be necessary to reveal its secret. It is not yet safe for you to have that knowledge.” He looked down at the grey-wrapped objects. “Another way must be found to transport them safely.”
Bardeen pulled up another chair and sat down beside Karryl. His deep brow wrinkled and furrowed with concentration as he gazed at the artefacts. He raised a finger as an idea began to form in his mind. “We could take them by road to the north of the country, a short voyage across the strait, then overland in relays.”
Immediately Karryl shook his head. “It would take far too long. If we had unlimited time it would be ideal. In that case, a sea voyage would be even more direct. As it is, neither of those options is workable. We simply don’t have that kind of time.”
Bardeen folded his hands under his chin. “Forgive me if I seem a little dense, but why is time so important?”
Karryl and Miqhal exchanged a glance, and Karryl raised an eyebrow. “The last thing I’d call you is dense. It’s no fault of yours that we haven’t given you all the facts.”
Between them, Mage-Prime and Jadhra warrior filled in the gaps in Bardeen’s knowledge, explaining the threat made by the Assassin-Wraith, and the significance of the approaching astral conjunction.
Leaning back in his chair, Karryl folded his arms. “It’s only days to the full moon. If the artefacts aren’t away by then, we can expect a revenge attack by one or more Wraiths.”
Bardeen looked at Miqhal and frowned. “Can’t we just move them out of Vellethen to…anywhere?”
Miqhal began to pace. “It is not as simple as that. No matter to what place they are moved, the Vedrans will attack that place. That is why the Navigator must be moved to safety in the desert, and the Vedrans made to know that my people have it. They may then run the flesh off their bones if they wish, but they will never find it. Only when it is too late for them to act shall we reveal the whereabouts of the third and fourth artefacts.”
Bardeen stood up, crossed to the stove and pulled a large copper kettle onto the hot plate. Raising a hand to arrest Miqhal in his pacing, the magician tilted his head in a manner reminiscent of Symon. “If these Vedrans are so desperate to gain possession of the artefacts, surely they will attack your people instead.”
Karryl smiled as he watched Miqhal’s face. He had seen that wicked grin before.
The Jadhra placed his hands on Bardeen’s narrow shoulders. “Therein lies the beauty. They will be unable to find us until, as I have said, it is too late.” The grin faded as his gaze fell once more on the dark-wrapped shapes. “But that is not our present concern. These must be returned within days, in order that the Vedrans have no further interest in any person or part of this country.”
He resumed his pacing. Karryl wandered over to the window and gazed despondently out at the gathering dusk. Bardeen lit the oil lamps. Above the overgrown and tangled wilderness that had once been a large garden, the ghost-pale shape of an owl hovered on noiseless wings. Eyes focussed on the ground below, it sought its first meal of the night. Silently, Karryl wished the owl good hunting.
“Thank you, but I am usually successful here.”
Unwilling to disclose this surprising and unexpected contact, Karryl casually looked over his shoulder. Miqhal had stopped pacing and was gazing at one of the large brass oil lamps as if seeking inspiration. Bardeen was quietly and methodically setting the table for a meal. Neither of them appeared to have heard anything. Karryl returned to watching the owl.
The seed of an idea was beginning to germinate in the Mage-Prime’s mind. “Tell me, wise one, do you contact any others in this way?”
The bird tilted a broad wing against the breeze. “I converse with others of my kind. Why do you ask?”
Karryl thought about his answer for a moment. “I need your help.”
He detected a note of perplexity in the owl’s reply. “Are you not able to catch your own food?”
The young mage struggled but managed to stifle a chortle. “Not that kind of help. I need to send a message.”
The owl swooped, vanishing into the undergrowth. Seconds later it emerged, a plump vole squirming feebly in its long curved talons. The raptor’s voice carried back as it winged swiftly into the darkness. “I will return.”
Bardeen joined Karryl at the window. “What are you looking at?”
Karryl shrugged. “Just watching an owl hunting. Amazing bird.”
Bardeen nodded. “Yes, indeed. They have a reputation for being very wise.”
The young mage gave a secretive little smile and turned away from the window. “No doubt a very well deserved one.”
The evening meal which Bardeen provided was simple and wholesome. Conversation was minimal and subdued. Despite the fact he was bubbling inside with the plan which had occurred to him, Karryl thought it better to keep it to himself until he was sure it had a chance of succeeding. The process of eating was almost mechanical as he delved deep into his store of accumulated knowledge, devising and re
jecting one plan after the other at phenomenal speed. Occasionally his companions would glance at him, but neither was willing to interrupt the train of thought which had obviously transported him elsewhere.
By the time the meal was over, Karryl had returned to the present. Bardeen challenged him and Miqhal to a game of battle-stones, but Karryl declined, using the excuse that he wanted to think. As Jadhra and magician left the kitchen for the comfort of the sitting room, Karryl crossed to the window. Cupping his hands round his eyes he peered out into the darkness. The owl was perched on the tiled gable roof of the privy.
Softly, Karryl sent out his thought. “Thank you for coming back.”
The bird turned its broad heart-shaped face in his direction, drawing up one long-clawed foot and tucking it into the soft feathers of its underbelly. “What is this message you wish to send, and who is to receive it?”
As succinctly as he could Karryl explained what he had in mind. The owl sat motionless for a short while before spreading its wings and lifting gracefully away from its perch on the roof. “I can foresee no difficulty with the main plan, but the last part may prove tricky. However, I will leave the eagles to deal with that. Their realms are beyond my understanding.”
Before Karryl had time to respond, the owl had disappeared once more into the night. Sending out a hurried “Thank you”, he smiled as “You’re welcome” drifted into his mind.
Now there was nothing further he could do except convince Miqhal and Bardeen that the plan he had devised would, in all probability, work. With one more glance into the dark shroud of night, he turned and walked slowly across the kitchen. After casting a glamour of basketwork over the distinctive bulk of their current problem, he headed for the sitting room and looked around for Moonstone. There were a number of cats in the room, most of them curled up and sleeping. Karryl’s feline friend was also fast asleep in a basket near the warmth of the fire. Deciding not to disturb him, the young mage carefully lifted the blue-eyed white cat out of an armchair, sat down and let the cat settle on his lap.
Bardeen looked up at Karryl. “Have you come up with anything yet?”
Karryl nodded. “In theory I have. All that remains now is for us to wait and see if the steps I’ve taken so far have the desired effect.”
Not needing to question how Karryl could have set a plan in motion without leaving the house, Miqhal counted out gaming stones. “And that will take how long?”
Karryl shrugged and leaned back in the big comfortable chair. “Hopefully we will know something by morning. Until then there’s no point in worrying about it.”
Eyes closed he began to stroke the cat. In seconds, the cat was purring and Karryl was asleep.
22 - Caught in the Dance
Poised for flight, the golden eagle glared down from the eyrie high on the side of the mountain. A slight movement among the tree-tops on the far side of the frozen lake had caught her attention. She watched and waited.
The message was faint but clear. “Master Karryl calls the mighty ones of old.”
The owl’s message was repeated twice more. The eagle’s answering scream echoed and re-echoed among the lofty snow-covered peaks. Friya launched herself into the air, soaring over the vast expanse of ice towards the pine forest, her bright golden eyes searching its edge for the messenger. A dark and distant shape drifted across the crimson half-orb of the rising sun. Sparing one swift glance, Friya banked, dipping her great wings in a sign of truce to the eagle-owl before wheeling and climbing rapidly into the red-shot purples and greys of the early morning sky. Catching an unexpected thermal she circled swiftly upwards until she was no more than a dot. The dot became a speck and vanished from sight. The sun turned pale gold and poured its light on the dark pine forest. The eagle-owl winged his swift way homeward.
High above swirling clouds of wind-tossed firn, perched on the crest of a pinnacle no human eye had ever seen, Friya puffed out her feathers for warmth, and waited. Barely visible from where she sat, the pale disc of the winter sun continued its low traverse. Still she waited, her strong talons clamped tenaciously to the rock as icy winds buffeted her sleek heavy body. Sensing something enigmatic in the wind, neither sound nor vibration but something rather more sublime and indefinable, she let her keen gaze scan the long curve of the distant horizon. Her spirit soaring she clung steadfastly to the rock. Instinctively she lowered her head, her wings held partly outstretched in an attitude of submission.
They did not lower their great feathered legs to touch down beside her. Their massive dark, gold-flecked wings beat the thin air as they circled her, praising her fortitude and encouraging her to stand tall and proud.
The prime bird, a female, eyed Friya appraisingly. “Is Master Karryl in these lands?”
Friya conveyed the images she had received from the eagle owl. “He is far to the south where men dwell and the air is heavy.”
Ekha thanked her and slowly circled the peak once more. “Will you fly down with us as far as your territory? Then we will leave you.”
Filled with inestimable pride, Friya’s heart soared as she raised her glossy bronzed wings and released her grip on the rocky pinnacle. The knowledge that she was the first of her race to fly with the Lammergeyers gave power to her wings and fire to her blood. The five massive birds in close formation around her, she launched herself off the peak, a joyous scream of exhilaration erupting from her throat. Together they swooped and plummeted towards the valley far below.
* * *
Bardeen’s skills in the kitchen were second only to Symon’s, and the next morning saw the three magicians enjoying a generous breakfast.
“Karryl.” A short pause. “Karryl.”
The young mage put down his knife and fork and grinned at Miqhal and Bardeen. “I think things may be starting to happen.”
Her tone now betraying an edge of impatience, Evalin’s voice entered his mind again. “Karryl!”
Deciding to vocalise for the benefit of Miqhal and Bardeen, he kept his response calm and clear, although his heart was pounding with anticipation. “I’m here, Lady Evalin. Do you have a problem?”
There was a short silence. The question which followed carried a measure of accusation. “Tell me, would these ridiculously large birds parading in the palace courtyard be anything to do with you?”
Karryl chuckled. “Contrary to what you’re thinking, they are real birds and I’ll be there shortly. I’m just finishing breakfast. They’re Lammergeyers by the way. One of them is a female named Ekha, if you wish to talk with them.”
There was a stunned silence, then Karryl detected a light ripple of humour. “Perhaps I will. They already seem to be drawing quite a crowd. As quick as you can, please.”
Minutes later, he and Bardeen materialised inside the porch of the Great Hall, and sauntered out as if they had been there all along. After Karryl had explained the plan to him, Miqhal had regretfully stayed behind to guard the artefacts, saying he would meet the incredible birds later. Wearing a deep blue cap and robe he had borrowed from Bardeen, Karryl nodded at intervals to the crowd of onlookers who had gathered beyond the boundary railings. As he and Bardeen walked along the stone-set courtyard and drew nearer to the mighty birds, he caught sight of the Lady Evalin pacing slowly among the lofty Lammergeyers, completely overwhelmed by their power and majesty. Sensing his approach, one of the birds turned its head, its carmine eyes glinting in recognition. It was Ekha.
Briefly she dipped her bronze-flecked wings. “I am honoured to be called. Why to such a strange place however, I do not understand.”
Murmurs of astonishment and disbelief rose from the rapidly growing crowd gathered beyond the railings as Karryl reached up and stroked the soft gold plumage of her breast. “It is all quite deliberate, and I hope it causes you no discomfort. You already know what’s at stake, so I’ll explain what I have in mind”
The crowd began to spread along the pavement, more arriving every minute, eager to witness the amazing spectacle unfolding before t
hem. They watched Lady Evalin as she moved to stand with Karryl and Bardeen. Stern-faced palace guards patrolled the courtyard perimeter, alert for trouble. To gasps of wonder, two of the great birds took a step forward, playing to the gallery as they extended their full fourteen-foot wingspan. The ripple of curious and excited voices rose to a swell, before breaking into an enthusiastic roar, not only for the glorious Lammergeyers, but now also for King Vailin. The young monarch had appeared on the royal balcony, smiling down his undisguised approval at the scene below. In perfect synchronicity the awesome birds wheeled gracefully round as one. Wings half extended they touched their impressively hooked beaks to the ground in respectful salutation. The crowd roared and applauded with enthusiasm, then settled to await developments as the huge raptors moved to encircle Karryl, Bardeen and Lady Evalin. In no more than a few seconds a series of carefully thought out images had been conveyed to the minds of the Lammergeyers.
Ekha began to preen, her huge hooked beak delicately teasing and re-arranging, black on white on brown on gold. “This is most unusual but it is well within our capabilities. We shall do as you suggest.”
Shaking her sleek plumage, she drew herself up to her full impressive height, raising and half extending her massive wings. Karryl was convinced he heard a mischievous chuckle. “Before we depart we will play a game that will entertain your people.”
An image flashed into Karryl’s mind. Lady Evalin and Bardeen had quite clearly received the same image. Quickly, the three magicians strode across to stand beside the railings at the front of the broad courtyard, allowing maximum space for the birds to manoeuvre. Taking line formation with Ekha leading, the five great birds powered into the air, the draught from powerfully beating wings rippling skirts and lifting hats. Rising high into the pale, late winter sky they surged upwards until they seemed no bigger than small flies. Screaming with exhilaration they spiralled down at breakneck speed, swooping and soaring over the palace and its environs in an aerial display which would doubtless be talked about for years to come.
