Revelyn: 2nd Chronicles - The Time of the Queen

by Chris Ward

  ‘Well you can take a boat right around Bald Cape; travel all the way by sea, but this time of year the sea is dangerous off that coast. I would not recommend it.’ His eyes then darted back and forward from Sylvion to Rema, and with such an unconstrained independence that Rema could help thinking, no one would ever take this man seriously.

  ‘And can you recommend a boat?’ Sylvion asked the old seaman gently.

  ‘Aye, I can,’ he replied with a chuckle. ‘Mine would be the best, but it is sunk, and I have not set foot on a boat since my leg was taken by a bear.’ He waited then knowing that another question would soon be forthcoming.

  ‘And there is perhaps another boat,’ Sylvion asked and Rema admired her patience.

  ‘Ask for old Jorges,’ he man replied. ‘Further down in the Harbour. He is the second best skipper in Fisher, and his boat will take a few horses.’

  ‘I will do so friend.’ Sylvion replied, knowing that he was telling her that he was the best. ‘And I thank you for your kind advice.

  ‘First lady it is not kind advice.’ He said gruffly. ‘You go to the ruins of Ravelin at your peril and secondly...’ at this point one eye moved to settle on Rema as he continued. ‘Who is your friend? He does not speak much? Beware a man who will not speak his mind, I say.’ And suddenly the strange old seaman was lost in his work once more, and Sylvion and Rema knew they would get no more from him.

  They had little difficulty finding Jorges. He was the captain of an old but seaworthy craft of two masts and a sizable hold, for the Lively Lady was a coastal trader and not the common fishing boat which mainly filled the deep and crowded Fisher harbour. For five gold nuggets, a season’s wage, he agreed to take the five travellers and their horses across the Norz gulf, and set them down as close to the wall of Iridin-Rune as he was able. It so happened that he had just arrived with a cargo from Waterman to the south and his boat was empty and awaiting a load for the return trip and then on to other ports, so the arrangement was most satisfactory to the Captain.

  ‘I’ll take your gold, Lady,’ he said politely and smiled broadly, happy to have the chance to make some easy money. ‘I have not had such a fair cargo as yourself in many a season. You of course will travel free, but I must charge for the others, sight unseen you understand!’ He roared laughing at his joke and both Sylvion and Rema knew they would do well with such an easy going Captain. ‘We can leave on the tide tomorrow, just after first light. The horses will take some handling but if we all do a bit I’m sure we won’t lose more than one!’ And once more he was shaking with mirth. They agreed to meet at sunrise and so Sylvion and Rema returned to the Inn in good spirits, for the next stage of their journey now seemed to have some direction. The others had procured the supplies which seemed necessary and so after a simple meal they fell upon their beds and slept soundly till the sounds of seagulls squawking loudly nearby woke them, just as the eastern sky lightened and turned to a reddish hue. The horses proved far easier than expected and were soon led aboard and hoisted unceremoniously down to the hold were Captain Jorges had prepared five narrow stalls with fresh hay and water. As the tide turned they cast off and allowed the growing current to sweep them gently out of the harbour into the waters of the Gulf. A stiff southerly sprang up behind them, sails were hoisted by the small crew, and within a few span the town of Fisher was almost out of sight off their stern port quarter, and running before the wind the Lively Lady gave good proof that her name was true indeed. Sylvion stood with Reigin in the bow and enjoyed the salt air and the raw beauty around them.

  ‘Do you remember Reigin, long ago when we crossed from Fisher to the Cape. I was your prisoner then, and things looked grim indeed. I had no one I could trust and...’

  ‘...and yet in the end Sylvion,’ Reigin interrupted, ‘you proved yourself so much more than any then might have thought possible.’ The great man paused and drew in the wonderful clean air. ‘And I include myself,’ he continued, ‘you saved my life Sylvion Greyfeld, Queen of Revelyn. I was a wolver and you showed me how to be a man.’

  ‘And you saved my life Reigin,’ Sylvion said softly, ‘for without you all would have come to nought. And now we travel together again and evil stands against us once more.’

  ‘We were victorious then, I see no reason to doubt we will once again find a way to do so,’ Reigin said confidently.

  ‘Spoken like a King, or I should say like an Elder of the Edenwhood; but Reigin I have great fears for Revelyn in this. The evil is more hidden this time, and the people more accepting of it, for they do not know it is so close. They are seduced by lies and subtlety.’ Reigin nodded but had no comment on that matter. Time passed easily as they looked about and felt the ship alive with the power of the winds and the sea.

  ‘You did not tell me you had a daughter,’ Reigin said at last and Sylvion sighed, knowing this matter must now be discussed, and so with another deep breath, she began to tell her story, as she had to Rema.

  Rema meanwhile stood by the midship railing and watched them talking. He felt no jealousy, indeed he knew now that Sylvion and Reigin were the oldest of friends and his late arrival in her life would never change how they would be. But he wondered what they discussed and then his mind drifted to other things; he thought of the sad loss of his town in the Highlands, of his parents and wondered what they might be doing. He thought of Andes and how their journey had changed so much, and then too of Fryn and knew she would be lonely and angry all at the same time. He chuckled quietly at the memory of her sharp words the day he took Andes from her. I hope you see him again soon Fryn, he thought, he has been true to you. I don’t suppose you will ever know how another almost claimed him. And then another thought...perhaps Germayne might yet win him. He shrugged, and breathed deeply of the wonderful air. He looked once more at Sylvion and his heart leapt. I love you, he thought, and yet what power do I have in any of this. And so he looked out across the sea and to the far horizon; and wondered.

  Andes did not travel well on that first day. They rode in silence with little conversation. Germayne did intrude upon him, sensing his need to be alone with his thoughts; and what thoughts they were. The giant man found them to be uncontrollable, and as the day wore on he was overwhelmed by a deepening sense of regret and shame. I have been a fool, he berated himself silently over and over. For a stupid trinket, a toy, a magic rock, a bauble of illusion...why did I allow this, surely I am man enough to live without such a thing? And then he would think on Fryn. I have tried to be true, and I miss you so Fryn. I think myself a mighty man, but my heart is owned by you and from afar you have such a hold on me I cannot breathe.

  The travelling however was easy enough, for the sky was clear and in the forest it was quiet and the rustling wind high above in the canopy reached them only faintly. Germayne too had many thoughts. I am to rule Revelyn. Surely my queen has given me too much. I have not her wisdom of three lifetimes. She was greatly conscious of Andes who rode ahead, and her heart was soft toward him. You are a beautiful man Andes, she thought several times. You are not great with words but there is some deep river in you which has yet to run free. And you are so loyal to Fryn which I cannot but admire. She took a deep breath at the thought of this woman of whom she had no true image in her head. You must be beautiful and special indeed to have such a hold on a man.

  And so they rode on, stopping once by a stream to drink and eat simply, the few words which passed between them nothing more than the polite inquiry as to how the other was travelling, and each revealed nothing of their inner turmoil.

  ‘It is pleasant enough,’ Andes replied to Germayne. He looked around. ‘I believe we will have a dry night.’

  ‘The forest is always so peaceful,’ Germayne said in turn to Andes’ inquiry as to her travelling. ‘So much to see and think upon. Yes I think we will not be uncomfortable tonight.’ But when they looked at each other and their eyes met, each knew that the travelling was not easy at all, and the tension between them could almost be felt.

&nbs
p; At sunset they made camp on the Plenty River, where they had done so many days before. The simple beds of leaves and grasses they had left were untouched and it took little time to make them comfortable once more. Andes soon had a mighty fire roaring and he occupied himself overlong with its tendering, and Germayne prepared their food which was very bland, just bread and cheese and little dried venison, for neither had the interest in hunting and indeed with only two swords it was but a laughable consideration.

  They sat on opposite sides of the fire and looked long into the coals. A great time passed in this way as the two lonely travellers continued on with their thinking. It was Andes who finally found the courage to break the solemn silence.

  ‘I must thank you Germayne for your words in the cave. I am not good with such things. Fryn is the one who can weave magic with words and so I find myself awkward and lost just when I most need the skill. You were most kind.’ He smiled through the flames and Germayne felt a warmth run down her spine, although the mention of Fryn quickly cooled this.

  ‘It was nothing Andes,’ she replied, ‘I understand what you did. I make no judgement...’

  She was surprised when Andes interrupted her, for his torrent of words was so unexpected, but it was as if a dam had burst and the flood could not be contained.

  ‘I am a fool though Germayne,’ he said bitterly, ‘I have let everybody down. I fell for the lies of Gryfnor and I indulged myself in illusion and fantasy when our quest was so great...’

  ‘No harm was...’ Germayne started but Andes kept on oblivious.

  ‘Harm has been done Germayne.’ His voice was angry now. ‘I have taken you from Sylvion. I am now separated from Rema, the truest friend a man could ever have. We started out together and it is not good that this has come to pass. I am ashamed at my weakness, that I, a man should have need to use such a thing as a Diabule. What was I thinking?’

  ‘But you...’ Germayne tried gently once more, but to no avail.

  ‘I should be there. You should be there. We should all be together and I should be strong enough to resist such foolishness as Gryfnor offers.’ Andes shook his head in self disgust. ‘And now I burden you with my ravings. I am sorry, but all this day I have been boiling within. I am sorry.’ He paused and then repeated himself much more softly. ‘I am sorry Germayne. I really am, and now I see no future to what I must do. I cannot see myself slaying Gryfnor if he is this mighty evil creature who knows my mind. I cannot surely sneak up unannounced and take off his fell head. I mean, look at me, I do stand out in a crowd somewhat.’ And so with more shaking of his mighty head Andes fell quiet and looked hard into the fire. A silence stood then for a time. Germayne did not want to further intrude at that moment for she sensed Andes was still far off in a place where self loathing was all that seemed possible. But in the end she took courage and her words came beautifully to him.

  ‘You forget Andes that you are Edenwhood.’ She spoke softly, but with the sharpness of a two edged sword. ‘Your blood is good and true. You have skills which are yet to be revealed, and perhaps these things have come about for good. Gryfnor may well have won some small victory with you but from such things...who knows, but I am sure the path we now travel is just as important as the one we left. The quest is not over Andes, just you and I have a different job to do.’ Andes looked at her and felt a strange emotion in his heart. He saw Germayne for the first time as a woman of wisdom, not as one who might steal his heart from Fryn. ‘I cannot say what will come to pass,’ she continued, ‘but let us make of it something great Andes. You and I... we surely can give a good account of ourselves in this. Take heart Andes. Perhaps we can even do great things together.’

  At these words Andes felt mightily uplifted.

  ‘You are a wonderful woman Germayne,’ he whispered. ‘Why do you speak so kindly to one who has disappointed so many?’

  ‘You have not disappointed me Andes,’ she replied, ‘and no man, indeed no woman can always see what is coming and we always look back and think of what might have been; if only...’ she smiled. ‘But I see before me a mighty man, a good man, a loyal man. You are yet to be, Andes of the Edenwhood. You will be great. No, you are great, but you will be greater still. This I know.’ She felt her heart pounding and they both felt suddenly closer and the worries of the day seemed lesser for their words.

  ‘Let us sleep now,’ Germayne said, ‘and with a hard ride we will make Fellonshead tomorrow.’ Andes looked long upon her, and Germayne did not look away.

  ‘You forget that you too are Edenwhood,’ Andes whispered softly in the end, and the manner of his words warmed her greatly.

  They rode with better spirits the next day. They spoke frequently and where it was possible they travelled side by side. Every now and then their horses would close up and each found a simple but innocent pleasure in the feeling of the touch of a leg, or a steadying hand. They spoke of childhood and of dreams, and Germayne found Andes’ descriptions of the Highlands enthralling and even the mention of Fryn passed easily. They stopped by a beautiful pool for the noon rest and sat by the still waters fed by a clear stream full of fish and wild creatures. At one point Germayne noticed Andes flick his fringe to the side as if by habit and she gasped.

  ‘Andes, it is gone!’

  ‘What is gone?’ Andes replied looking around thinking that perhaps a horse had wandered off.

  ‘The mark Andes,’ she said and was suddenly at his side. Without thinking she parted his hair and inspected his forehead. Sure enough the purplish mark of the Diabule had disappeared.

  ‘The mark,’ she whispered. ‘Gryfnor’s mark upon you has vanished.’

  Andes immediately knelt by the pond and inspected his reflection as best he could and finally he nodded in agreement. ‘You are right. Perhaps this is a sign of better things ahead.’

  ‘I am sure,’ Germayne replied. ‘It must be good.’

  They reached Fellonshead in the soft dusk light, tired and sore from two long days in the saddle, but happier in each other’s company and looking forward to a warm fire and comfortable sleep, even if the evening fare was unchanged. They returned to the ancient walled grave yard and once more made beds upon the ground with what remained of their previous visit. The meal was soon eaten and so they sat together by the fire. Whereas the night before they had sat quite purposely out of each other’s reach, now they saw no need and indeed seemed to want to be closer. Andes certainly did not move when Germayne came and sat beside him, placing a gentle hand upon his shoulder to lower herself to her seat. No word was spoken but each measured the touch of the other and found it wonderful. Andes was bewildered by this; Germayne simply accepting and grateful.

  It seemed as the night wore on, at least to Andes, that the magic of the abandoned city gave him a freedom in his heart which he did not understand but which he allowed to take hold. They talked and joked and poked fun at each other. They learnt more of each other’s childhood and what dreams they held, and those which had been given up as the seasons past. They spoke of friends and life in cities and in small towns, in high places and low. It was time of intimacy and yet no boundary was crossed which might have caused regret. Finally, not long before the midnight they both knew that it had been a wonderful time whatever might come to pass in the days ahead.

  ‘We should sleep,’ Andes said at last, and at this moment Germayne suddenly leant across and kissed him gently on the cheek; a most simple act, yet one which left the giant man with a pounding heart and a great desire to return the gift. He leant toward Germayne, and in the firelight, for a stolen moment, each saw deep into the eyes of the other. For the briefest moment Germayne saw that Andes had accepted her, and there was the possibility of some future for them.

  And then it vanished. She saw his eyes grow suddenly wide as if another voice called him.

  ‘My sword,’ he whispered. ‘It speaks.’

  Andes sprang to where it hung nearby upon a headstone. He took the mighty blade from its sheath and both looked upon it in awe
, for it glowed brightly in the darkness. Andes seemed to hear a hidden voice for his whole demeanour changed.

  ‘We are in great danger,’ he said quietly but without the slightest hint of fear. ‘Elwand spoke thus to me once before, when the Shadow Hunters were approaching.’ He looked around, and Germayne saw him as a different man. ‘Quickly Germayne,’ he ordered, come with me, and in an instant he leapt toward a low doorway which lay some distance away built into the solid stone of the only wall which rose up to form part of the greater palace above. Germayne sensed the air grow suddenly colder and needed no further encouragement to obey as a great dread filled her being. Within but a few heartbeats they were both hidden in the shadows of what was an old storeroom, ducking low through the doorway which seemed fit for dwarves alone.

  ‘What is out there?’ Germayne asked as she tried desperately to calm her pounding heart.

  ‘A Shadow Hunter, perhaps two.’ Andes replied looking back at where they had sat. He spoke in such a calm manner that Germayne was suddenly awed by him. You are becoming great she thought.

  ‘Wait here, I must recover something.’ Andes said suddenly and without looking at Germayne, and before she had time to protest or inquire further he had returned to the fire and in an instant taken some bundle from his things. She saw him unfold a great cloak which in a moment was folded about him and she gasped for it seemed to gather about his person and become almost a ghostly tunic, and then she shook her head.

  What is this she thought? What cloak is so important that you must wear it now? But Germayne had no time to think further upon this matter, for suddenly there was a fleeting movement, and to her great horror an enormous beast appeared in the graveyard some twenty paces from Andes. She knew instantly that it had sprung down from the wall where it had been watching; she knew it was no Shadow Hunter, and she saw that Andes sword Elwand, drawn in response to the sound of its appearance, was giving off an intense bright bluish light.