by Chris Ward
‘When are you leaving Rema?’
Rema smiled.
‘Tomorrow, at first light Andes, I have two horses ready. One is strong enough to carry even one as large as you. My parents know, and they will not stop me although it has been hard for them. All is ready. It just needs you to decide.’
Andes said nothing.
Finally Rema spoke once more.
‘I will be at the road south to Ashe as the sun rises. I will wait there for a span, and then I will depart. Think on it my friend, but whatever you decide I will understand.’ He offered his hand and Andes took it, but he left in turmoil and without another word.
Rema waited alone. He had farewelled his parents before first light and led the readied horses into the early morning mist. He did not look back for he knew Salli would be weeping, and that was too hard to bear. He was worried about Andes. He thought he had convinced him, but the silence in which the great man had departed the night before was not a good sign.
Fryn will be powerfully against me, he thought, it will come down to Andes in the end; is this the life he wants? Has the Edenwhood blood ceased to speak?
The horses whinnied gently as he held them, standing in the warm new sunlight as the mist began to lift. There was no one about and the town had yet to stir so Rema heard Andes approaching and knew immediately that Fryn was with him.
It was an awkward meeting. For all her diminutive size Fryn had the giant’s measure. She had a way with words and it was clear as they walked that she was not yet exhausted in her efforts to dissuade her love from leaving. When they drew close she turned her anger upon Rema.
‘I counted you a friend Rema Bowman. What right have you to take my Andes from me? We are happy here, we have a good life; he has no need to roam the land in search of adventure. You are fools both of you,’ and at this point she thumped Andes upon the arm most powerfully but with no effect at all beyond the sadness which Rema saw increase upon his friend’s face. And she was not finished.
‘I will never forgive you Rema. Even if you come back one day, I will never count you as a friend again.’ Her face was wet with tears and it was clear she had been up all night in great distress.
Rema steeled himself and swung up into the saddle of his horse. He spoke quietly but with a force of words which halted the tirade.
‘I take no one from you Fryn. Andes comes or stays according to his own heart, and he loves you more than life, you need not fear that. But as for me, I must go, for there are bigger things at work in Revelyn than you imagine. I am sorry for your distress.’
He turned to Andes.
‘The horse is yours my friend. I will ride on now. You can catch me up as you desire.’
And then with a simple dig of the heels Rema departed. He heard Fryn call once more.
‘I hate you Rema Bowman, I hope you fall off that stupid horse.’ And then he knew she would be alright.
Andes rode up beside him after a span.
‘You call this a horse Rema Bowman,’ he said without looking at his friend, ‘it is half donkey or I know nothing of horseflesh; my feet are almost on the ground. I cannot go galloping around Revelyn on such a beast. If we are to fight evil or whatever you have in mind we are going to have to do better than this.’
Rema looked at Andes.
‘How is she?’
‘Oh she’ll be alright,’ Andes replied. ‘But I had no idea than anyone could know so many words. I am exhausted with all the talk.’ He rode quietly for a moment. ‘Though if I were you Rema Bowman I would approach her very carefully in the future. She might be tiny but she is.....’ and here the giant was lost for words.
‘Explosive is what I am thinking,’ said Rema quietly, helping out his friend. He did not look but heard Andes chuckle, and then they were racing the horses at full gallop until they tired and settled back into a more leisurely pace.
‘I am glad you came Andes,’ said Rema when man and beast had recovered.
‘I miss her already,’ Andes replied, ‘but you were right Rema, I am not ready to be who she wants me to be right now.’
But Rema heard the longing in his voice and wondered how it might all turn out.
They rode long that first day, stopping only for water and a simple lunch at noon and to rest the horses. They passed no one and the forest seemed eerily quiet. As the sun finally reached for the western horizon they found themselves out of mountains and travelling in more open ground where the going was easier, but Rema realised then that Andes spoke truly. His horse was not strong enough to carry the big man day after day, and would need to be replaced. They had not spoken much after their first conversation and Rema dreaded the time when Andes would ask him what his plan was, for with the loss of Farview and the only road access to the Lowlands gone he was no longer sure, hoping only to seek advice in Ashe which they should reach the following day. The road to Ramos was long, and from all he had heard not easy, but now it seemed all but impossible.
As the light faded, and the air chilled they found a huge oak some distance off the road and made a simple camp under its enormous canopy. The forest floor was dry and the sleeping promised to be more than adequate. They ate cold meats and cheese and drank some ale which both knew would not last more than a few days.
‘Best eat well while we can,’ said Rema as they shared the simple fare around a warm and crackling fire.
‘If I have anything to do with it we’ll eat well every day,’ replied Andes with a chuckle, for the giant was known for a huge appetite, and love of huge portions well cooked.
‘That bow,’ said Andes suddenly pointing to where it lay by Rema’s blanket, and taking him by surprise, ‘it is a toy surely Rema. I have never seen such a thing, and yet you seem quite taken by it.’
Rema nodded.
‘It is the best bow in all Revelyn,’ he said quietly.
Andes shook his head. ‘You and your kindpa have been making the best bows in all Revelyn for years. Why should I believe that this one is so much better?’
‘It is easy to shoot, fires an arrow which is five times faster than any I have seen; because of this it has ten times the power of any bow I have ever used and is accurate beyond belief. It will group a hand-span at eighty paces without trouble.’ Rema replied letting the words sink in, before adding with a smile. ‘In the right hands of course.’
‘Show me then,’ challenged Andes, staring hard at his companion. Rema nodded in silence and finished his ale. Then he stood and picked up the bow. He selected an arrow from the quiver and brought them back to the fire. Andes laughed when he saw the arrow.
‘So another secret weapon, or have you forgotten to fletch this shaft?’
‘Fetch your saddle Andes,’ said Rema seriously and after a moment Andes obeyed.
Rema took a stick from the fire and with the charcoal end he marked a circle in the middle of the seat the size of an orange while Andes watched nonplussed.
‘Now go and place it by the oak where I can see it.’ Once more Andes did as he was instructed, intrigued by Rema’s seeming confidence.
Rema ignored Andes and walked off into the dark until he was a mere shadow some eighty paces distant from the saddle. When he was ready he called out.
‘Now my friend, what will you wager if I can put this arrow through your saddle where your fat backside should be?’ Andes looked at the distant shadowy figure then at the saddle and thought the task impossible and so replied confidently.
‘Anything you like, only if you fail I get your horse on the morrow.’
To which Rema replied,
‘Then these are the terms. Two things Andes, first you retrieve the arrow and secondly I will want a kiss from your Fryn when we return,’ and hoped this would provoke Andes not a little, but the big man just laughed.
‘Well there is no danger of that for she will likely kill you on sight; at least that was the last thing she said to me before we parted.’
‘Then we have a wager Andes,’ came the reply.
Rema drew the bow and felt the ease and the power of it. He sighted truly and waited till Andes called out sarcastically.
‘Have you lost the arrow already Rema?’ At that moment Rema released, and suddenly the arrow appeared quivering in the centre of the circle having passed through the saddle and embedded itself in the oak tree.
‘I think you have it actually,’ he called, but there was no response.
‘You have put a hole through my saddle,’ called Andes in astonishment a moment later, but Rema did not reply. He went and sat by Andes and watched as the big man sheepishly took some time to release the arrow from the grip of the oak. After this had been achieved they went and sat by the fire where Andes finally spoke once more rather sulkily.
‘That book you mentioned last night is full of spells I’ll wager, for that was impossible.’
‘Can you advise me on Fryn,’ said Rema cleverly changing the subject in such a manner they both roared with laughter.
‘I saw it but I am still not sure that I believe it,’ said Andes when they had recovered.
‘And that is not all,’ whispered Rema, but he would not elaborate further despite Andes’ interest.
They talked then about many things for there was much to talk about; so much had happened in both their lives and now the future beckoned, offering both adventure and great danger, and as the night grew older the bond between them grew once more.
Rema heard the sound first and held up a warning hand.
‘We are not alone Andes.’ In an instant the giant’s sword appeared as if by magic in his hand and Rema too readied his bow. They waited. The sounds of a horse being tethered came clearly to them, and suddenly there was a figure on the edge of the firelight.
‘It is a monk, he wears a cowl,’ said Andes whose eyes were sharpest.
‘I come in peace friends,’ said a deep warm voice. ‘If you would permit another traveller to share your fire a while I would be most obliged.’ He waited then at the edge of the light. The two friends saw that he was clearly unarmed and so Rema nodded and replied in kind.
‘You are welcome friend, please excuse our nervousness but you startled us by your quiet approach.’
The man came to the fire and sat on a convenient huge protruding root which offered a sturdy seat. He lowered his hood and as he did Rema’s heart missed a beat.
‘You are quick in your thinking Rema Bowman,’ said the man perceiving this response. His hair was a strange colour and neither of the two could discern whether it was white or grey of any other hue, but his eyes were kindly and welcoming such that both men fell silent as if in thrall and waited for him to speak. And his age seemed completely beyond measure.
‘I cannot stay long,’ he continued, ‘but you have done well to start this journey, although you, young man of the Edenwhood, almost did not.’ He smiled at Andes who was only able to stare back dumbstruck.
‘You are Mentor. Mentor of Revelyn. I read of you in the book,’ said Rema suddenly for he knew then who sat before them. Andes looked mightily puzzled. For a second time that night he was unable to fathom what was going on.
‘You know this man Rema? ’ he said, but was immediately silenced by a gesture. The stranger was in complete control.
‘You will listen. I will speak now for I have advice which you need. You are correct Rema. To another I was Mentor. To you I am El-Arathor. You will learn more in reading the book, so I will not here give more on this.’ He looked at Rema and smiled.
‘For one so young you have done well. You are the image of another and you know who I mean.’ He paused. ‘Some ale would be good.’ Andes quickly responded and the two friends smiled as their visitor downed the lot in one impressive swig.
El-Arathor poked the fire with a long stick and spoke with a great earnestness, as though he was deeply involved in matters far beyond the campfire light, and which were of enormous importance. It seemed to the two listening that for their visitor the world was standing on an edge.
‘Once more the evil has returned. It was held for long by much that has been recorded in the book.’ He glanced at Rema, ‘but it will not cease and it has taken new form. I cannot reveal much for if I do it will work against the law, and that cannot be. If Revelyn is to once more stand firm against it, then the fight must be from humans. This has always been true, and other interventions will only hinder. You must discover the form of it Rema, and you too Andes have a role to play.’ They both felt the power of his intent. Then El-Arathor paused and looked directly at Rema.
‘What is your plan Rema?’
Rema had dreaded Andes asking this and now it was being demanded from one far greater. He took a breath and spoke as boldly as he could.
‘We are going to Ramos, to find the Wisden and ask of them the form of what you speak. I was going to take the road east via Farview, and thence to the Lowlands; but now I am not sure if this is possible.’
For a time there was silence as El-Arathor considered this, staring deep into the fire all the while.
‘It will do for now,’ came the response after what seemed an age. ‘Go to Ramos, things will become clearer there.’ He nodded as if to convince himself of the wisdom of this strategy. He continued then.
‘The road through Farview is lost. It may have been the first attempt to prevent you. I am not sure of this, but you cannot go that way.’ He looked directly at Rema. ‘You have the key?’
Rema, shrugged. ‘A key?’
‘The black marble key; it was in the bundle.’
At this point Andes spoke in awe.
‘You put the bundle in Rema’s path, that night...’ El-Arathor smiled distantly but did not speak on it.
‘Travel south to where the Swifft River plunges from the escarpment. Search along by the east bank and you will find the Gates to the Lowlands. I cannot tell you more for if I do the search will be all the harder. He paused and looked again at Rema with some concern now upon his face. ‘The key you carry...you do have it?
Rema nodded.
‘Good,’ came the reply. ‘Follow the river to Ramos. That much should be manageable. Now I have something for you.’ And without ceremony he took from under his cloak a handful of arrows identical to the ones Rema had learnt to use in recent days. ‘Put these in your quiver and you will have no need of more.’
El-Arathor fixed his gaze on Rema who missed the message hidden in the delivery, but instead took the arrows thankfully and counted them quickly. A dozen, plus the two he had. Fourteen arrows he thought, better than two but surely somewhat limiting for what might come. He noticed the smile upon the face of his benefactor, and Rema realised that he had missed something, but no more was said; instead El-Arathor turned to Andes.
‘Now young man, stand up.’ Andes did so without a murmur, taken off guard and uneasy in the gaze of one so commanding. ‘You are of the Edenwhood. I know your story and how you came to be living here in this part of Revelyn so far from your kin. Rema will tell should you wish to know, for the book will tell of it.’ Andes and Rema exchanged a glance. ‘But not now,’ came the firm direction as El-Arathor continued quickly. ‘Are you as fast as an Edenwhood or has your love of food and the easy life robbed you of your skills?’ It was a challenge which Andes could not ignore.
‘I am more than fast Sira,’ he replied using the most respectful acknowledgement in Revelyn. ‘I can best any man with the sword, ask Rema. Tell him Rema, I am fast and skilled am I not?’ And without waiting further Andes was overcome by a youthful desire to show what he could do. In an instant he was standing before El-Arathor, his sword almost magically appearing in his hand and then he ran straight at the great oak under which they sheltered and by sheer pace and skill he ran up the trunk two steps and somersaulted back onto the ground where he stood balanced and ready for any imaginary enemy to attack. It all happened so fast that Rema applauded.
‘I have not seen that trick before Andes!’
But El-Arathor was not so impressed. As Andes stood proudly by the oak
breathing a little from his unexpected exertion the visitor suddenly moved himself. Like a wind, a blur in the night there was a movement, and then El-Arathor was standing by the campfire and Andes looked upon him dumbfounded for his hand was empty and El-Arathor now held his sword.
‘You will need to be faster than that Andes of the Edenwhood, so fast and fearless that you will become a legend before this is all over for you.’ And with that the mighty man threw Andes’, sword at him. It cart wheeled once in passing by the frozen giant and plunged into the oak full up to its hilt.
El-Arathor stood by the fire and took up his stick and poked it back to a greater light.
‘Come here young man,’ he commanded and Andes obeyed without protest.
‘I have a gift for you.’ Once more he reached beneath his cloak and suddenly glimmering in the light was a new sword, and both Rema and Andes knew it was no ordinary blade.
‘This is Elwand,’ said El-Arathor seemingly lost in private admiration, for he took a moment to wield the blade gently around him, feeling the weight and balance of it. It cut the air with a faint but deadly sound, and it seemed that high above the oak leaves rustled in response. Suddenly the sword twirled expertly in his hands and it was offered hilt-first to Andes. The giant took it respectfully but all the while his eyes were fixed upon El-Arathor and Rema knew this was a mighty time for his friend, when things were sealed in his heart and his real journey would begin.
Before Andes could say a word El-Arathor spoke once more.
‘This sword Elwand has a power which only you can use, Andes of the Edenwhood, for it was made for you alone. It can defeat all which will come before you if you are true and learn its ways. It will stand against the darker forces and these now roam again in Revelyn. Wield it justly and do not shed the blood of the innocent for that will rob it of its power. There is only one other blade in Revelyn greater, and that has a power far beyond even Elwand, and indeed the land can only hold one such blade, and its time is not yet over.’ He paused and looked deep into Andes’ eyes.
