Revelyn: 2nd Chronicles - The Time of the Queen

by Chris Ward

  ‘Well he could use some enliving, perhaps it will make him more accommodating in the future…’ She looked at Germayne whose wry smile and slight shake of her head brought a further response. ‘…Well perhaps not.’

  ‘As I have said My Lady, he will not reveal anything of what he discovered to any but yourself.’

  Sylvion nodded slowly. ‘He plays a strange game this Lizard man; I wonder what he is after. He climbs my walls and tracks where none have ever had success, and then wants to reveal what he has discovered only to me.’

  ‘He is dangerous My Lady.’ Germayne’s bluntness surprised the Queen.

  ‘These are strong words Germayne.’ Germayne nodded but did not reply. ‘I will take note of what you say,’ Sylvion continued, but I will speak with him immediately. Has he been returned to the dungeons?’

  ‘No My Lady, I took the liberty of providing him with a comfortable room and an armed guard. I thought him more likely to give the Queen what she wants if well treated.’

  ‘A wise move Germayne.’ Sylvion smiled at her friend. ‘Bring him now. Have the others well fed and stand them ready to accompany me at a moment’s notice. I would like to resolve this matter before the night is over.’ But Germayne remained seated. She leaned forward and spoke in a lowered voice.

  ‘My Lady I received grave news on my return from the matter of which we have just spoken; I have received the news that three more slayings have been reported.’ At this the Queen took a deep inward breath and gasped.

  ‘No, not more?’ but Germayne nodded seriously. ‘Where?’ was all that Sylvion could then whisper.

  ‘From Ryhversend, or what is left of it…’ Germayne replied huskily for she too was wracked by deep emotion, ‘from the east coast near Petros, and one small child from Svett, where the Blackwater Marshes now reach it… and almost to Lake Unnr.’

  ‘All slain in the same manner?’

  ‘All had their throats cut My Lady, all were found in the water.’ Germayne paused then spoke again. ‘Even the child.’

  ‘That makes eight since the full moon,’ Sylvion said hoarsely running her hands through her hair. ‘What madness is upon us Germayne? The land sinks and some deep evil is slaying innocents.’ Germayne could not think of any answer which might comfort her Queen and so she sat silently. Sylvion gathered her thoughts which once more were in turmoil, and by some great and deep inner strength she regained her composure.

  ‘Bring Orcxyl, the lizard man,’ she said abruptly, ‘perhaps I can solve one mystery this day.’

  ‘My Lady.’ Germayne stood and bowed in one motion. She left and went to fetch Orcxyl. Sylvion then rose and prepared herself. Clothed in white, her face hidden by the fine veil she made her way to the chambers in which she entertained her important guests. She judged Germayne’s return to be perhaps a span, and so stood before one of the great windows and looked out over her southern lands. The Luminous River shimmered wonderfully in the afternoon sunlight. The port below was busy as always, although her height above it was too great for any sounds to reach her ears. ‘I fear for you Revelyn,’ she whispered, ‘I fear that your travail is beyond my power to seek a solution, let alone turn it back.’ A tear ran down her beautiful face, and her body shook in a silent grief. ‘And I fear for Rayven; where are you my daughter?’

  Orcxyl entered the Queen’s chambers in growing anticipation. He felt a surge of emotion and felt his heart pounding in his chest. I have waited long for this moment he thought, to see this slayer of innocents. But even as he thought this he felt a sudden question rise up.

  ‘Am I sure?’ He hissed quietly in response, ‘of course I am sure. I will not let weakness defeat me now.’ He shook his head and banished his doubts, and realised he now stood before his enemy.

  ‘You will bow before the Queen of Revelyn.’ The huge Night Guard who had escorted him from his room spoke with an authority which would not be denied. Orcxyl did as he was commanded, but tried to make the action less than might be expected, and imagined the guard at the least would berate him for his insolence when the time came for them to be alone once more. He was not prepared for the Queen when she spoke.

  ‘Orcxyl, I believe you have given this name.’ Your voice is not of an evil tone, he thought immediately, and I cannot see your face to judge more. ‘I am told you have great skill in climbing and tracking, and I am looking forward to your telling me how it was you came to be on my western wall, so high above the city,’ the Queen continued and Orcxyl could do little but listen to the warmth and realise that there was also humour in the delivery.

  Be on your guard he told himself, do not be deceived by such a one.

  ‘My Lady I am at your service,’ he replied in as warm a tone as he could find within himself.

  ‘I believe you already have been so,’ the queen replied, and Orcxyl smiled to himself. She will be easily duped, she is too quick to trust.

  ‘Trespass upon my castle is punishable by five summers with hard labour in the Gnabi salt mines.’ The queen’s voice was suddenly tinged with a deadly authority and Orcxyl was startled by the sudden change. ‘I can only assume you were drunk at the time or perhaps wishing to show off to an equally drunk crowd. It would be a pity to spend so much time in the mines for so silly a thing.’

  Orcxyl could not decide whether the Queen was deadly serious or trying to remind him of his position of weakness for he believed she wanted what he knew. He stood silently and said nothing, but inwardly cursed the white veil, for he was used to reading the signs before him, the tracks and marks which told their story. But in this case he was without a way to do so. Her face could not be read.

  ‘I am willing to allow you pardon,’ the Queen spoke firmly, ‘in return for you leading me to the place which you claim to have discovered. By this I mean the lair of the creature you tracked this day; over the rooftops I am told, or by whatever methods you know; it matters not, but I have long sought to bring this beast to captivity for it threatens my Kingdom in some manner I wish to discover.’ Sylvion took a breath and judged the way in which her words fell upon the one before her. She smiled. You will lead me to it; you have not the strength to stand long against me. Orcxyl saw his chance and like the hunter who had laid a careful ambush he pounced.

  ‘I will lead you there My Lady, but on one condition.’

  ‘You are hardly in a position to name terms when the heat and smell of the Gnabi mines is so close upon you,’ the Queen retorted.

  ‘You misunderstand me My Lady,’ Orcxyl continued in a tone of some hurt. ‘I wish only to ensure your safety. I would ask that you and I alone enter this lair as you call it for indeed it is a fell place. I ask for my bow and arrow so that I can offer protection. There will be no need to bring others to harm.’

  ‘You are confident in slaying this beast then or bringing it to ground in some manner?’ The Queen asked softly.

  ‘I have never hunted and gone home without my quarry,’ Orcxyl replied and Sylvion detected a note of childish pride in his tone.

  What are you playing at Lizard man? She thought, for we both know you are not able to best the creature you think is waiting there, and yet you would risk your life to ask for this condition. She rose from her throne and walked about deep in thought, looking now and then at Orcxyl, but he remained like a statue and she knew he was anxiously waiting for her reply. It is important to you, she thought, and I can see no reason to deny it for I fear no man or beast with the Shadow Blade. Perhaps in this I will discover your quest. She returned to her throne and seated herself.

  ‘I will grant this Orcxyl the hunter. You and I will enter the lair alone and I will require all others to remain outside, until I feel they are required. In return you will lead me there and for this I will pardon your trespass.’

  ‘My Lady,’ Orcxyl bowed lower than before and he felt a sudden rush of emotion for he knew he was within a short time of avenging Freya’s death. That he would surely die as a consequence did not cause him the least disquiet.

&
nbsp; Orcxyl knelt by his bed in the small room he had been given instead of the dungeon. His bow and arrows had been returned and these lay before him on the wooden floor. He took each shaft in turn and whispered to it in a half language, the words of which were sacred to the hunt. Words he had learnt as a boy of eight when he was initiated into the ways of the hunter. He bore two long scars on his body which were raised in dark welts across his stomach. He remembered the pain which accompanied their creation, and the words of the elders and the acrid smell of the fire which smoked him. He had been so scared and yet proud. He did not cry out as they opened his wounds and rubbed in sand from the Gnabi, and salt water from the ocean. All the others had cried out in pain and their fathers had held them and comforted them, but not he, not Orcxyl the great hunter. He knew he was greater than any in his tribe even then, even before the pain and the rites of the passage to full adulthood.

  He chanted softly now, offering up words to enfold the tools before him which were his life.

  ‘You my brother, you my sister, my arrows my weapons, you will find your mark, you will kill swiftly, you will not flinch, you will see like the eagle and strike like the scorpion. Your way is death. Your path is marked. I am Orcxyl your master and you will do my bidding. You will taste blood this night. Drink deeply my brother, my sister. Your reward is great. You will set right the wrong.’

  He paused and stroked each shaft as one might the tame kitten of a sabrecat, and in turn he traced their hardened tips across the great scars on his abdomen, where his hunter’s power readied them for what was to come. Orcxyl’s eyes were glazed as though caught in a trance. He saw in his mind the scene which was to come. He swayed on his knees, bare-chested and primed. After a time he returned to a closer reality and took from his belt the small pouch which held his poison, the paste made from the glands of the darting frog, the lonely one, for no creature came near it, so deadly was its poison. With great care which is born only of endless familiarity he took two arrows and using a tiny wooden stick he inserted a little of the poison paste into the almost invisible hole in the arrow tip. When all was done Orcxyl stood and dressed, and waited to be summoned. He sat upon the bed, his back straight and strong, and he thought of Freya and he wept as he whispered to her in words which could not be heard beyond a hand span from his lips.

  Night had fallen which was as Sylvion wished it as they moved through the city streets with a deadly purpose. Six in all. Gravyn and Rema, their bows ready. Andes the giant rested one hand on the hilt of his mighty sword as he easily kept pace with the others. Rema thought he seemed at last more focused now that there was some purpose to his presence. Germayne matched him stride for stride, and she too wore an impressive blade. Sylvion was dressed in black, complete with veil, preferring to blend in with the shadows and pass townsfolk without notice if possible. Orcxyl led the group, his bow slung easily over his shoulder and two arrows in one hand. He knew the way; he had no need to use the rooftops for had marked the path in his mind on his earlier return to those who had waited for him. They walked in silence and the few folk they passed stepped back quickly as if by instinct, for these they encountered were not people to upset by insisting on who should yield to whom for the sake of some politeness. Not these ones. And so they passed quickly on, and were consumed by the shadows.

  The streets grew more sombre and seemed touched by sad memories the further west they went.

  ‘We approach parts where once many died from plagues and leprosies,’ Sylvion whispered loudly at one point. ‘Many fear to enter here in case they are struck down, though none have suffered for a lifetime at least.’

  Empty houses with black and shutterless windows loomed frequently by their side. Fallen timbers from rootops stripped of tiles had been pushed aside and left to trip the careless. Rats ran from them and squeaked evilly in the dark while a thin crescent moon sat low above the city and cast weak shadows which turned harmless objects into demons.

  ‘Give me the Highlands and the mountains on a darkest night,’ hissed Andes. ‘This place seems cursed.’ None spoke to disagree, and Rema, who heard more clearly than the others, could sense the evil chatter of fell beings in their path.

  ‘It is the house before us,’ Orcxyl said finally, signally the party to halt, and so they looked upon a half ruin of some height, three levels at the least, and perhaps one hidden further up where the roof ran back to meet the old west wall of the city which still rose higher still. None spoke for they all felt the same strange dread.

  ‘It is a place no human would choose to enter,’ Gravyn hissed with a shudder, his bow at the ready.

  ‘Only two of us will enter,’ the Queen commanded, ‘Myself and Orcxyl. The rest will wait here and slay any creature which flees us from within.’

  ‘That is madness My Lady,’ Rema spoke in shock. ‘I will not let you …’

  ‘You do not have the authority to deny me anything Rema Bowman,’ she replied with such authority that all were reduced to silence, and but for the shake of heads from most it was settled. Germayne smiled weakly to herself. She alone had seen what her Queen could do, but always there was the fear that some fell creature of another realm might be lurking, and one which was beyond the power of the Shadow Blade of Revelyn.

  ‘Take care my lady,’ she whispered, and Sylvion smiled unseen beneath her dark veil.

  ‘I will call if I require assistance.’ The Queen spoke clearly and looked around at each in her party. ‘Come quickly then but with great care, for should I call it will mean almost certain death for you all.’ None could miss the hard edge to her voice, and Rema felt a surge of admiration, for Sylvion seemed to have no fear for herself and was clearly committed to her quest to rid Revelyn of whatever evil beast lay in wait close by. And with this last admonishment she drew from beneath her gown the fabled blade which before their eyes seemed to grow in length and suddenly its power and majesty was before them gleaming in the weak moonlight. She turned now to the Great Hunter.

  ‘Lead on or follow as you will Orcxyl, but be ready for I fear you will meet a creature which no human weapon can defeat.’ And Orcxyl suddenly realised that he had arrived in a place which was beyond him, driven there by his own desire for revenge. He was not fearful, but deep within he knew he was no longer in control of what might come to pass. He spat upon the ground and swore in words which only his tribe would understand. And they seemed but a distant memory.

  ‘I am ready My Lady,’ he said and thought his own voice sounded strangely hollow.

  The White Queen moved quickly. She entered the half open door and stopped just within till Orcxyl joined her. She saw perfectly, for the Shadow Blade endowed her with more than speed. He struggled in the darkness to make out where she was and what stood before them, but both were instantly aware that they were not alone.

  ‘It is above us,’ the Queen spoke quietly. She moved again and Orcxyl realised that she was far more nimble than he had judged. He followed, bumping into some dark object and opening a cut upon his shin. In the shadows lay animals which had died at the violent behest of some powerful creature; half eaten and foul to the nose. Rats ran off as they climbed the stairs. Orcxyl notched an arrow and vowed to take the first opportunity which came to slay his enemy the White Queen of Revelyn.

  ‘Freya,’ he whispered over and over.

  They stopped in an open space on the first level above the ground floor. Orcxyl thought he could see where the Queen was but her shape in black was like a shadow and there were many. He willed his eyes to see, and drew his bow. He was but an instant from release when he knew it was not her but some ancient hanging cloth swaying shroud-like in the disturbed air.

  Sylvion saw it all for her eyes pierced the dark easily. She saw Orcxyl draw back and aim at nothing but she assumed he thought it what they sought. She smiled and thought, you are not so great a hunter in such a place. Suddenly she caught the sense of what was near, and she shivered. A Shadow Hunter. Once before I met your kind, in battle long ago… three I slew,
and you were terrible to behold.

  And then it all exploded in the smallest moment.

  Sylvion suddenly knew another being was present, higher up, and this, the one she sought; not the Shadow Hunter. She turned to see which way to go and lost sight of Orcxyl who sensed her movement. He turned and with a surge of emotion glimpsed her clearly, his arrow was ready. But it never flew, for the Shadow Hunter screamed and pounced, falling upon him from the dark above. In an instant it had Orcxyl by the throat, held in one enormous talon. It lifted him up off the floor and to its deadly jaws. Sylvion swung back as it pounced and with a mighty flash her Shadow Blade erupted into light.

  Orcxyl felt the pain at his throat and then everything went white as pure light filled the room and the house, and it seemed, everything. He saw The White Queen moving like lightning. He knew he was about to die, his head taken off by a grip he could not resist in any measure. He glimpsed the fell creature and knew a deep surge of dread.

  Outside in the street below the waiting party jumped in shock as it seemed suddenly a small sun had given birth inside the evil house. Light poured forth from every crack and opening but it seemed only for an instant, one in which they were all blinded momentarily, leaving upon their vision a stark image of a dark house silhouetted by shafts of eternal light.

  Inside, Sylvion wielded her blade in one swift movement as she confronted the Shadow Hunter, reaching up and severing the limb in which Orcxyl hung, but as she did so and as its scream of agony filled the air about them, she suddenly knew that the creature she had pursued for so long was above her and on the move. She turned and went after it, as the light from her blade snapped off. She cried to the others… ‘Come now!’ and then she was bounding up the next set of stairs, leaping over gaps and fallen timbers. The creature above seemed then to come to life for it took off as it always had, never wanting to stay and face an enemy. It fled. Sylvion gave her all in the deadly pursuit, tracking the sound, judging where it was. Up and up she raced.