Arash-Felloren

by Roger Taylor

  Heirn was breathing heavily and his hand was still shaking as he placed the crystal back in the box. His fingers hovered over the box uncertainly for a moment as if receiving warmth. Then he ran his arm across his brow again. He looked distressed. ‘There’ve been times in my life – dark times – when I’d have laid you out and left you in an alley for the least of these.’ Atlon stayed silent.

  Heirn slowly closed the box and pushed it away from him. Many emotions were playing across his face, not the least of which was fear.

  ‘Tell me the truth of all this, stranger,’ he said coldly.

  Atlon looked at him uncertainly, then at Dvolci.

  The felci jumped on to his knee and placed his forefeet on the table. He studied Heirn for a moment then turned to Atlon.

  ‘Tell him,’ he said.

  Chapter 13

  Heirn started violently and jumped up with a cry, knocking his chair over. The plate slithered to the edge of the table then tumbled off and broke noisily as it struck the floor.

  ‘Tricks!’ Heirn shouted angrily. ‘Damn you. I should’ve known.’ He levelled a fist at Atlon. ‘Out! Now! Do you think I’m a child? This is Arash-Felloren. You don’t trade here without meeting every conceivable piece of charlatan trickery sooner or later.’

  Atlon looked up at him in considerable alarm. The smith’s menacing figure filled the entire room.

  ‘He thinks you’re throwing your voice,’ Dvolci hissed urgently.

  Heirn made to move around the table to implement his command by force. Dvolci scrambled on to the table, stood on his hind legs, and let out a series of high-pitched and piercing whistles which made Heirn stagger and bring his hands to his ears in distress.

  When he was satisfied that the intended assault had been abandoned, Dvolci stopped whistling.

  ‘Sit down, Heirn,’ he said quietly. ‘I didn’t speak earlier because since we left home, this is invariably the reaction we get when I do. I apologize if I startled you.’ A hint of irritation crept into his voice. ‘Though why you humans should consider yourselves the exclusive users of this particular language defies me. It’s not as if it’s a particularly good one. Horses don’t get upset when I talk to them in their language.’ He sighed. ‘Still, that’s the way it seems to be, so I’ve learned to hold my peace. Now please sit down, I’m getting a crick in my neck.’

  Heirn glanced warily from Dvolci to Atlon several times.

  ‘Please,’ Dvolci repeated.

  Slowly, and watching Dvolci intently, Heirn picked up his chair and sat down.

  ‘Thank you,’ Dvolci said, dropping back on to all fours.

  There was an uncomfortable silence. Dvolci pushed the box towards Heirn and flicked it open. Heirn looked at the crystals sourly.

  ‘It’s not a new trick, you know,’ he said. Atlon frowned, puzzled. ‘They’re fakes, aren’t they? Imitations. You had me believing you for a minute. Let me guess. You were going to tell me they were part of your father’s collection and that you’d part with them for a hundredth of their value because you were in desperate need of money?’

  Atlon looked down for a moment, unable to meet the accusation in Heirn’s eye. ‘No,’ he said. ‘I understand how you feel, and I’m sorry I’ve handled this in such a way as to make you think that. It’s just that I… we… are on our own in a city the like of which neither of us has ever seen before, and I’m gradually realizing that the task I’ve been given is perhaps beyond me.’ He leaned forward. ‘The crystals are genuine. They’re not my father’s but, in a manner of speaking, they do belong to my family. They’re not for sale at any price, and anyone who tried to steal them would soon find that he’d made a serious mistake. Crystals have the potential for doing harm beyond anything you can imagine, and I have to find out where they’re coming from. I want nothing from you except a little help to find work so that I can get money for food and lodging. But if I’ve offended you…’

  Heirn tapped the box uncertainly.

  ‘Do as I said – tell him,’ Dvolci said firmly. ‘I trust him, and so does the horse. He’s as honest as we’re going to find, and everything’s led us to this city. From what we’ve heard, this must be the source. Insofar as we expected anything, we didn’t expect a place like this, and we can do nothing without someone to help us.’

  Heirn was watching Dvolci closely. He crouched low, bringing his head level with the felci’s. ‘You really talk, don’t you?’

  Dvolci stared back at him. Atlon cleared his throat warningly. ‘Yes,’ Dvolci said. ‘I do talk. And I scratch and shake myself and pick my teeth.’ He did each of these in turn, the last involving revealing his ferocious teeth and prying delicately between two of them with an equally ferocious-looking claw. ‘I also eat…’ He looked around then jumped off the table and picked up a piece of the broken plate. ‘Rocks, preferably, but this will do. May I?’

  Without waiting for a reply he put the fragment in his mouth and began chewing it noisily and with great relish.

  Heirn winced and sat back in his chair. He was beginning to look helpless.

  ‘Are you all right?’ Atlon asked.

  Heirn nodded, very slowly. ‘I think so,’ he replied. ‘Though I wouldn’t be surprised if I woke up in a moment. Who are you?’

  Atlon picked up the box and put it in his pocket. ‘I appreciate your caution, but let’s go back outside into the sunlight. I doubt anyone will be interested in two men talking on a bench, and I think you’ll feel much easier out there.’

  ‘You’re probably right,’ Heirn said unhappily. Then, host again, ‘But mind you keep your hand on that box.’

  ‘It’s perfectly safe,’ Atlon assured him.

  On their way back through the forge, Heirn paused and spent a few minutes tending his furnace, anxious to have normality about him again. Before he returned to the bench he went to a basin in the corner and washed his face thoroughly. As he sat down, he offered Atlon his flask again. Atlon took it and thanked him.

  ‘I am sorry about startling you like that. But I’ve told you no lies. I am a teacher, I do have to find out about the crystal trade, and I do need work.’ He looked round at the busy square. ‘And we can walk away from you right now, if that’s what you want.’

  Heirn followed his gaze. ‘You said that crystals are doing harm even in your country?’

  ‘No,’ Atlon replied. ‘I said they caused difficulties. There’ve been… incidents. We want to act now before they start doing real harm.’

  ‘What kind of incidents, and who are “we”?’

  Atlon looked up at the grainy blue sky. ‘I belong to a group of scholars, an Order founded a long time ago and given the task of gathering knowledge against the day when an ancient enemy might return to this world.’

  Heirn’s eyes were narrowing. Dvolci, lying on the bench beside him and resting his chin on the blacksmith’s lap, said, ‘Listen to him, Heirn. This is no child’s tale.’ Though his voice was soft, there was a quality in it that commanded the smith’s attention. ‘You yourself mentioned rumours of war in the north. Well, there was a war. Fought and finished several years ago, now. At least, we hope it’s finished. It happened because Atlon’s people, and others, let things become legend and tradition that should have been kept alive and real. And then the “legend” returned and many are dead and maimed now as a consequence. Because of that neglect, people are travelling far and wide, learning about the world that lies beyond their own realms, some searching for those who pledged alliance to the old enemy and led His army, others searching for signs of the corrosion that He might have secretly spread before He was discovered.’

  Heirn shuffled uncomfortably. ‘Be patient,’ Dvolci said. ‘I live in the mountains, well away from people, if possible, and Atlon lives – or used to live – in a lush flat land where the towns and cities are full of low buildings and wide, wide streets, and where the people take a pride in caring for one another. So this tale’s no more bewildering for you than this city is for us.’

&nb
sp; ‘I’m doing my best,’ Heirn said, ‘but it’s not easy. A large part of me is saying, see these two off and get on with your work.’

  Atlon looked back into the forge. ‘You say you use crystals to change the qualities of your iron?’

  Heirn was thankful to be back on safer ground. ‘Not crystals like those in your box, or even such as a woman might have in a necklace or a ring,’ he said. ‘Just the very small ones – they’re like dust, almost. There are different mixtures. And you have to use them sparingly.’

  ‘Because they’re expensive?’

  ‘No, not really, though they’re not cheap, but if you use the wrong quantity – too much or too little – the iron will be spoiled.’

  ‘Why?’

  Heirn’s mouth dropped open as he made to continue his explanation and could not. After a moment, he shrugged. ‘It’s just the way it is,’ he said. ‘Like the heating and the cooling, it has to be done a certain way, or it doesn’t work. The iron’ll be too brittle or too soft.’

  Atlon jabbed again. ‘Why?’

  Heirn’s reply was full of frustration. ‘I don’t know!’ he exclaimed. Then he stammered, ‘I… I just know these things. I learned them from my father and he from his before. And I’ve learned from others, and experimented…’

  ‘You wouldn’t say it was magic, then. Or trickery.’

  Heirn became indignant. ‘No, of course not. It’s… it’s…’

  ‘The way it is,’ Atlon said.

  Heirn let out a noisy breath. ‘Yes,’ he said, with finality. ‘What is it you want me to say? What kind of a question is it you’re asking?’

  ‘One I knew you couldn’t answer. It could have been any one of thousands. Why does a flower open in the morning and close at night? Why do the clouds change shape? Why rain, why snow, why wind?’

  ‘And why am I sitting here?’ Heirn made to stand up. Atlon laid a hand on his arm.

  ‘Please, bear with me,’ he said. ‘I need to make you understand. You know that many things are so, but not why, and it doesn’t trouble you. You’ve seen them all so many times that you take them for granted. But, imagine, if you didn’t know how to harden your iron, and if someone came along and added a little more than a pinch of crystal dust in the melting and then produced an edge that was hard and keen, what would you think?’

  Heirn was still debating stepping back into the gloom of the forge, but a combination of his natural courtesy and Atlon’s earnestness held him there. ‘I’ve no idea,’ he said after a moment. Then, reluctantly, ‘I’d probably think it was a trick.’

  ‘Just like my crystals, or a talking felci, or this,’ Atlon said. ‘Look at that horseshoe.’ He pointed casually back into the forge. As Heirn turned, the horseshoe slid to the end of the long nail it was hung over, and clattered to the floor.

  ‘No!’ Dvolci hissed furiously.

  ‘No choice,’ Atlon retorted sharply. ‘He has to understand.’

  Heirn’s head jerked from side to side as he intercepted this exchange and at the same time tried to keep watching the fallen shoe.

  ‘I did that,’ Atlon said, before he could speak. ‘It’s a skill as commonplace to me as tempering iron is to you. I know the how, but only a little of the why, save that it touches deep into the power that’s in all things. The power that can be harnessed and magnified with crystals and directed to great ill by anyone so inclined.’

  Heirn was clenching his teeth, both curiosity and a growing alarm conspiring to stop him from walking away from these strange visitors. He was almost snarling when he spoke.

  ‘The flowers open every day. My edges are always true if I’ve done my work properly. Do it again.’

  Two more horseshoes slid off the nail. Dvolci’s hair stood on end and he was baring his teeth. ‘Enough!’ he shouted.

  Some of the passers-by, sensing a quarrel, turned to look at the trio. Dvolci clambered recklessly over Heirn’s knees and brought his face close to Atlon’s. Though he did not raise his voice again, his anger was unmistakable.

  ‘If there are people abusing the power around here, and there’s every indication that there are, they’ll probably be deranged, and certainly dangerous. Acting like this, you might as well have had our names called out for everyone to hear.’

  Atlon flinched away from the felci’s outburst, then, scarcely less angry, snapped back, ‘I’m aware of that. But time and our money are slipping away from us and we need help. Half a day’s talking wouldn’t have convinced him a tenth as much as moving those shoes.’ Unable to hold Dvolci’s glare, he became defensive. ‘Besides, no one’s noticed anything. And who’s going to pick up a fleeting ripple in a crowd like this? I was going to show him a simple focus using a crystal, but that might have been less effective and even noisier.’

  Dvolci’s manner softened slightly. ‘It was still reckless!’

  ‘All right! But…’

  ‘But nothing.’

  Heirn stood up, tumbling Dvolci to the ground and effectively ending the dispute. He picked up the horseshoes and carefully examined the nail from which they had fallen, then he looked at Atlon.

  ‘I’m not doing it again,’ Atlon said, anticipating the request. ‘Dvolci’s right, it was risky – and it could draw attention to us. But it was the only way I could think of to get you used to the idea that some of us possess skills that you’d consider impossible. Then perhaps it might be easier for you to understand the nature of the enemy we fought and how dangerous His followers might still be.’

  Heirn was absently sliding the horseshoes back and forth along the nail. Delicately he lifted one of them over the large round head as if testing its weight.

  ‘Why would you want me to know about this enemy of yours? And whose attention are you frightened of’?’ he asked.

  The residue of Atlon and Dvolci’s argument vanished and they looked at one another uneasily.

  ‘Because He wasn’t just our enemy,’ Atlon said, stepping back into the forge. ‘He’s an enemy to every living thing. Had He defeated us – and He nearly did – you’d have known about Him by now. Your city would have been razed or enslaved. And you’d have been either in chains or making them.’

  Heirn seemed inclined to disagree but did not speak.

  ‘And the people we’re afraid of?’ Atlon patted the pocket containing the box. ‘Anyone who has knowledge of the Power and who uses these. Probably your Kyrosdyn, from what we’ve heard. They do have strange powers, don’t they?’

  ‘So it’s said,’ Heirn replied tersely. ‘But supposing I accept this tale of yours – and it’s a wild one, you’ll admit – what’s the difference between you and them with your power and your crystals?’ He tapped the horseshoes, making them jangle.

  Atlon stood silent for a long time, silhouetted against the bright clamour of the square beyond.

  ‘We use the Power very rarely,’ he said eventually, his voice low. ‘It offers always the easy path, and the end of that is invariably corruption and degradation. As for crystals, they magnify this manyfold; we use them even more rarely, and then only with great caution and after much deliberation.’ He paused. ‘But perhaps you’re right and there’s very little between myself and the Kyrosdyn if the truth be known.’ He turned and looked out at the square. ‘Born in this city, I might well have become one of them.’

  Heirn stared at him intently. ‘That doesn’t answer my question though.’

  ‘I can’t,’ Atlon said, shaking his head. ‘You know the Kyrosdyn better than I do, and we’re just two bizarre strangers performing party tricks and talking wild tales, as you say.’

  Heirn stopped fiddling with the horseshoes and shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his apron. ‘I hope I’m not going to regret this, but I’ve spent most of my working life trusting my judgement about people, and I’ve been luckier than many I know. For all your foolish tales and tricks, you still don’t strike me as either mad or bad, and as you’ve not tried to get money out of me so far, I see no harm in listening to you a
t least.’ He indicated the bench again. As he walked past Atlon, he said confidentially, as though someone might be eavesdropping, ‘Besides, I’d no more trust a Kyrosdyn than I’d use the anvil for a boat.’

  ‘Smith!’

  The harsh voice made both Heirn and Atlon start. Standing in the entrance was a robed and hooded figure. Dvolci drew in a hissing breath and quietly retreated behind a stack of rusty iron chains lying on the floor.

  Heirn shot a glance at the figure, then, turning back to Atlon, reached up and began pointing to the rows of horseshoes hanging from the wall. ‘I’m sure you’ll find one that’ll suit your horse’s problem, sir,’ he said briskly. ‘Feel free to examine any of them, while I attend to this gentleman.’

  As he approached the new arrival, he took the rag from his belt and wiped his hands on it as he had when he greeted Atlon. He positioned himself squarely in front of the man, obliging him to step back slightly, out into the street, and obscuring his view of the interior of the forge.

  ‘Yes, sir. What can I do for you?’ he said, folding his arms and standing very straight so that the newcomer had to look up at him.

  The figure was not intimidated, however. ‘Has anything unusual just happened around here?’ The voice was that of someone used to commanding obedience.

  Heirn craned forward slightly, peering into the hood. Atlon, watching from the corner of his eye as he pretended to be examining the horseshoes, noted that the figure seemed to lose some of its assurance.

  ‘Unusual, sir. What did you have in mind?’

  There was clear impatience in the reply. ‘Unusual, man! Unusual! Out of the ordinary. Something that doesn’t normally happen, something you couldn’t explain.’

  Heirn became bluff. ‘Well, sir, I’ve only to sit on my bench there and watch the square for a half a day and something unusual’s likely to happen. I’m sure if I sat there long enough I’d see as much of the world as any seasoned traveller – and not get saddle-sore into the bargain.’ He laughed loudly at his own joke but the figure only stiffened. ‘Then there’s you coming, sir. That’s unusual. Don’t get many Kyrosdyn Brothers stopping by, you not generally being horse riders. And as for things I can’t explain, they’re legion. Why do flowers open in the morning, why wind, why rain, why snow?’