by Chris Ward
‘After all she did for us, what fell poison has hold of her,’ she whispered. ‘She gave her life for us. We were doomed to the wolves and all else which sought to come through the broken gates. And she stopped them alone and with such power. Never will we see the likes of that again Bragolog...’
‘Nor would I wish to Olga,’ the old man said softly. ‘Come let us leave, we have done all we can.’ And with this the two left the room and instructed the guard to refuse entry to all, or else bear guilt for the woman’s death.
Rema walked with Reigin upon the flat lands by the river. KingsLoss was saved and already the gates were being rebuilt and the broken wall restored. The people thought them all great men of valour and the woman Sylvion was spoken of in whispers as being perhaps of the gods. The mood throughout the small fortress was warm and jovial despite knowledge that the woman was gravely ill with some sorcery which had taken hold of her when she slew the Nephytrolls. For Rema and Reigin however the amazing victory and the great beauty which surrounded everyone seemed to make no impact upon them, and indeed it did not for they were deeply worried for Sylvion.
‘She is trapped in some half world between life and death,’ Reigin said as they walked.
‘And the ones who care for her prevent us from entering her chamber,’ Rema added, ‘Surely this is foolishness.’
‘They know more than we about healing Rema,’ Reigin replied, but he too was disturbed that they could not easily now gain access to Sylvion. ‘They mean well and I am sure she needs time, that much is clear.’
‘But we have no time, Reigin,’ Rema continued. ‘The summer solstice approaches, and without Sylvion we are not able to go further.’ They walked in silence for awhile then Reigin spoke once more.
‘Did you feel her Rema when last we were allowed to see her? She was cold, so very cold. I am sure she will not return to us whilst the cold has hold of her.’ And Rema nodded in sombre agreement.
‘But they have tried all things,’ he replied despairingly. ‘Warm rocks, and fires and hot water, but then the ice returns to the air and she falls back.’ Rema picked up a rock and threw it far out into the current which travelled past them at such a deadly speed. ‘What can be done? I do not know.’
A cry suddenly interrupted their despair and they turned to see Tyron coming toward them.
‘Come my friends!’ he said most warmly grasping each of them with his powerful hands, ‘I know you fear for your Queen but let us do something which will take your mind off this for a time. Our healers are with her now. She will respond if she is able, those two have worked many great things in their time. They truly understand how best to restore those struck by malady. If any can bring her back they will. Bragolog and Olga, they are legends here in KingsLoss.’ And whilst Rema and Reigin were not greatly convinced by these words, such was Tyron’s cheerfulness that they allowed him to lead them on to where he wished to take them, in some part grateful for a chance to think upon other matters.
‘I must show you the tunnels,’ Tyron said, ‘for these are a marvel and the source of much that sustains us here in KingsLoss.’ And with that they were shown a large and handsomely cut entrance to a tunnel at the base of the mount upon which the fortress stood, and which gave easy access to the flat lands by the river.
‘The Mountain Dwarves lived here for more than half an age,’ Tyron explained as they went. They lived underground of course and the fortress above was built much later, and only for human habitation. See here the tunnels running off in all directions...’ And so they walked and were amazed that the tunnels were so beautifully shaped, the walls so smooth and perfectly arched to hold the great weight above. They looked at store rooms and stables for many animals and a great quarry where piles of cut stone for fortifications were kept. Many men and beasts were seen to be taking up fresh stone to repair and strengthen the battlements which had suffered greatly from the attack of the huge Nephytrolls. And so they walked for a long time deep into the earth and rock below KingsLoss.
‘You have more room and protection down here than above,’ Reigin said after they had seen much. ‘I am impressed by all I have seen. No wonder KingsLoss is such a refuge for your people Tyron.’
‘But we cannot live below ground like the Dwarves,’ Tyron replied. ‘We are human and people of the light, but indeed we have found these tunnels and store rooms to be a great boon when hard pressed by Zydor and his armies. The stone alone which the Dwarves cut for this place long ago has yet to be exhausted. We are much in their debt for that.
‘I wonder where they went,’ Rema said quietly looking around at the tunnel they were in, deep below the ground.
‘We do not know this,’ Tyron replied, ‘but there is one thing I will show you, a mystery which eludes all the wisdom that we posses. And with that he beckoned them to follow. They went deeper still and down a long tunnel which ended in yet more steps. Rema counted ten score before once more they levelled out and were confronted by a dead end.
‘Is this some door?’ Reigin asked as he stood before the smooth rock which blocked their path completely. ‘Surely the dwarves would not have cut so many steps without reason. This tunnel leads somewhere?’
‘We have no idea,’ Tryon replied. ‘It is indeed a door, but we cannot open it. The rock all about it is too hard for any tool we have to cut with. Only the dwarves were able, and their secrets are lost with them.’
‘This slot in the centre,’ Rema said and ran his hands over a small but beautifully cut hole. ‘It is surely placed here to open the door for there is nothing else that offers.’
‘We have tried all things,’ Tyron said. ‘Nothing has worked. It remains a mystery. I believe this is the route the Mountain Dwarves took to leave Revelyn from this place.’ He shrugged. ‘But that is only my assumption. There could well be nothing behind the door. It may just be false, a Dwarf trick, something of their strange humour which we will never understand...’
‘There is a word here,’ Rema said inspecting the slot more closely. Carved into the rock above the slot was a single word. Tyron nodded.
‘Yes but what does it mean... Sonder. We have no word in our language for this.’
‘Sonder,’ Reigin repeated the word several times, and the very sound of it seemed to make the air crisp and the echo of it lingered long about them. The three stood and looked in awe at the unpassable door in the rock, and what was a most intriguing puzzle until Tyron spoke again.
‘Let us return to Giraldyn now for he has requested we meet.’ And so they turned and climbed up through the maze of tunnels and rooms until once more they stood upon the flat ground beneath the fortress, overlooking the mighty Ravalin River which swept so majestically past KingsLoss. Having accustomed their eyes to the sunlight they inquired of Orcxyl and Gravyn. It was quickly brought to them that the great hunter was with the mighty horses and seemed to have a gift with them. Gravyn was giving archery lessons to a few admirers high up on the battlements. And so it was that Reigin and Rema entered Giraldyn’s chamber and sat with him and Tryon at the large table by a roaring fire and talked of what the future held.
‘What plans do you have?’ Giraldyn inquired. ‘Of course you are welcome to stay with us for as long as you wish.’ He smiled and puffed contentedly upon his pipe, but both Reigin and Rema were unable to find any words to give a satisfactory answer to the question.
‘We must consult with Sylvion,’ Reigin replied, shaking his head. ‘She is our leader in this strange quest. Without her we cannot go on, and as we all know she is gravely ill.’ At this Giraldyn frowned.
‘I am afraid that she has worsened,’ he said. ‘Bragolog thinks it best that she be given complete quiet and a warm room. They have done all they can, but it does not look good. I am sorry.’ The old man’s eyes were moist as he spoke. ‘This is why I ask of any plans you have, for I know you had thought to go to Svalbard.’ Reigin felt a sudden panic.
This is not right he thought. Sylvion is stuck in some cold realm without assis
tance. Surely we can do more than hope she will find her own way out. She was not injured. This is not right.
They talked then of the battle and other distractions but both Rema and Reigin could not long keep their minds off Sylvion’s plight. She was too important. She was at the centre of what must come to pass. This they knew with an absolute certainty. She was the bearer of the Shadow Blade. She must not die.
‘She is too cold,’ Reigin said suddenly breaking a short silence which had descended upon them all and revealing where his thoughts really lay. ‘It is the cold. It has her trapped. We need to warm her.’
‘But all has been done Reigin,’ Tyron replied. ‘It seems that any warmth we give is not able to reach her.’
And suddenly Reigin had the answer. He knew it, but could not speak it. Not there in that company. He looked at Rema and indicated with a slight nod of his head.
‘Come Rema,’ he said, ‘we have to talk about this matter, and of what Giraldyn asks. We must give thought to the future.’ And with that they excused themselves and when they were alone Reigin took Rema by the arm and led him quickly to a private place where they could talk without being overheard. Rema listened in amazement to Reigin’s suggestion.
‘I do not know what to say...’ he said when Reigin finished.
‘You need say nothing. You must do it. She needs Rema Bowman now. Only you can do this. You must call her back.’ The two looked at each other, the tall and graceful Edenwhood whose long life and accumulated wisdom seemed now to confirm all he had said, and the young and greatly gifted archer whose passion for his people had brought him to a far land and to a place where now he had to be something he had never been, but which in his heart he had always wanted since he first saw the beautiful woman he discovered was Sylvion Greyfeld, the White Queen of Revelyn.
Rema swallowed hard and shook his head sharply as if to dispel his doubts. ‘We have nothing to lose...’ he said.
‘And all things to gain.’ Reigin finished his sentence for him.
‘When?’ Rema asked.
‘This very moment,’Reigin replied. ‘We cannot delay longer. I fear she will pass from this world today if we wait any longer.’
‘What of the guards?’ Rema inquired. ‘We are guests here...’
‘There is something greater at stake than hospitality and manners Rema Bowman’, Reigin said firmly. ‘I will take care of the guards.’ And Rema knew by the set of his face that he would.
They walked then without speaking and within a short time came to the chamber in which Sylvion lay in her frozen lostness. Two guards greeted them politely, but with a nervousness which was readily apparent.
‘We have come to see Sylvion Greyfeld Queen of Revelyn,’ Reigin said quietly. There was an awkward silence for a moment but then the most confident of the guards replied.
‘I am sorry friend but our orders are to let none enter for the Queen needs rest. This is the direction of Bragolog.’
‘I am sorry for your dilemma,’ Reigin replied, ‘but we mean to see the woman. She is our companion and needs our attention.’ He spoke with a firmness now that the two guards immediately realised could not be ignored. But they were men of arms and orders were to be obeyed. It was clear however that they had no wish to use their weapons.
‘Why do you not seek out Bragolog,’ the other guard now spoke. ‘Surely he will give you guidance in this matter.’ Reigin however had reached a point where words were no longer able to resolve the matter and he knew the longer the delay the greater danger that Sylvion Greyfeld, his dear friend, would be lost.
‘I am sorry,’ Reign said with a warm but rigid smile, ‘but Rema here will enter. I will remain outside and prevent any other from doing so. Please leave us now.’ As he spoke there came over the magnificent Edenwhood a subtle transformation. He seemed to lighten and rise up on the balls of his feet. A hand rested upon Anderwyn his mighty sword. Without doubt he was fearless and ready for action; the two guards were clearly rattled, but they would not easily give ground. They had their backs to the door and did not move.
‘We cannot...’ one started to say but it had no effect. Rema had never seen the true speed of the Edenwhood expect in Andes, and his dead friend had never used his great gift in any seriousness. Not as Reigin did in that moment. There was movement as Reigin drew his sword, rather it suddenly appeared in his hand, and with a blur of two deft cuts he had disarmed the guards, their swords flicked effortlessly away to clatter noisily to the floor some distance down the hallway. Reigin smiled warmly at the confounded guards.
‘I am sorry for my action. We need not speak of it to any. Just stand aside and all will be well.’ He turned quickly to Rema and opened the door to Sylvion’s chamber. ‘Go now Rema Bowman and do what you must. Sylvion’s life hangs by a thread. Bring her back.’ And with that he shoved Rema into the room and shut the door behind him; then with his sword drawn he placed the tip upon the ground between his feet spread wide, and stood guard as the two he replaced slunk off to make what report they might. Reigin, Elder of the Edenwhood cared not at all. He would prevent any from entering; no matter what might come to pass.
Rema stood by Sylvion and saw her distress. She moved constantly but it was less now than it had been, her eyes staring and unfocused. She whispered words which he could not quite catch. The air on her lips was frozen and ice in small crystals covered the bed and the water in the bowl at her bedside was frozen solid. Rema shivered then for the cold suddenly came to him. He shook his head in grief at her plight.
‘Oh Sylvion you cannot leave us. Not like this. You must come back.’ At the sound of Rema’s voice it seemed that Sylvion paused in her incessant moving and her head tuned about as if to find from whence it came. And Rema smiled then for he knew he had a chance, however small. ‘We must give you warmth Sylvion,’ he said, ‘and call you back. I am sorry for what I must do without your knowing, but perhaps you will thank me.’ He paused and then smiled sadly. ‘And perhaps you will never know.’
And so Rema lay with Sylvion. Beneath the covers he took her frozen body in his arms and enfolded her as best he could. He felt her flesh against his, and felt it turn his to ice. The pain of it was almost unbearable but he gave what warmth he could and then he called to her. He put his mouth to her frozen ear and spoke the words which Reigin had said he must.
‘Deceive her Rema,’ Reigin had said. ‘Trick her into thinking you are her Rema Bowman. Let her hear her lover call to her. Give her your warmth and crawl inside the place of ice which holds her and set her free. Give her reason to come back. Show her the way. Only you, Rema Bowman can do it.’ These had been his words, and Rema now gave himself to their fulfilment.
‘Sylvion my love,’ Rema whispered into the icy ear. ‘Can you hear me? I call to you. I need you now. Come back. Listen to my voice.’ And Rema suddenly found he was crying, for he knew her story; he had read Rema’s book and understood the sadness of his forebear’s loss before he found happiness with another. ‘You left me once Sylvion,’ Rema whispered, you took the Blade and it stole you away from me. But I am calling you Sylvion. Do not turn from me again. Feel my hand upon you...’ And Rema took Sylvion’s hands in his and massaged them and squeezed them hoping to send some message deep into her frozen world.... And then Rema held the most beautiful of all women, the woman he had longed to hold, and he pretended he was another so that she might live...
Sylvion knew she was dying for the cold was so great. It was like fire. A cold which burns like a fire; the thought came to her despite the spectres all about and the dark which seemed to grow and grow. An evil cold it was. She knew the Shadow Blade had taken her deep to a place where the taking of life became a cold thing, where suffering gave birth to more suffering, and then more need to kill. She saw the Blade as if it had a life of its own. It flashed all about her and plunged into the spectres and she heard them howl and accuse her. ‘We were not all guilty,’ they cried. ‘How many were innocent,’ cried another, giving voice to the great guilt s
he had carried always, and so she was haunted ever closer to death and the cold enfolded her and she fell; and the falling was real, and yet it had no end...
And suddenly a voice. She knew that voice. Her love called to her. She turned her head but could not see him. Again he called and she felt a searing warmth, but pain as well. ‘You left me once, do not turn from me again.’ It was Rema, her Rema.
Rema!’ she cried soundlessly, ‘Rema where are you?’ And the voice came to her again and she felt a hand upon hers and she cried and the tears were warm and she felt the ice lift a little. ‘Oh Rema I can’t see you but take me from here,’ she whispered, ‘I lost you, I pushed you away. I cannot bear the memory of it. And now the cold seeks me unto death. Hold me Rema...’
Rema held Sylvion as close as he could. He felt her wonderful body and yet he did not allow himself to think of anything beyond being what Sylvion needed; the man she loved, the one she craved and had sought in some manner all her life without fulfilment. ‘I love you Sylvion,’ he whispered into her ear, suddenly not knowing then for whom he spoke. ‘I have always loved you. I am here now. Just take my warmth, take my hand and come back, for you are loved.’
And deep within her frozen place Sylvion felt the warmth of that love and the hope of it surged through her like a wave of fire. The spectres fled and the tears she shed were suddenly so warm that Rema was greatly surprised and wiped them off her face and took the warmth of them to his hands and spread it all over her. And slowly, very, very slowly Sylvion became still and her body lost its frozen feel, and Rema knew he had done what Reigin wanted. And then he began to fear his awful deception and so he watched her closely and as she began to rouse to consciousness, and start to whisper to him as a lover might, he kissed her once upon the lips for this he could no longer resist, and as she stirred from it, for surely it brought some deep memory to her, he slipped out of her bed and was gone.
