What Lies Within (Book 5)

by Martin Ash

  'There is a force of some kind that keeps you here, though I am convinced you died long ago. Tell me, then, during your lifetime did you, for instance, engage in a pact or make any attempt to manipulate unnatural forces?'

  Ang shook his head, though his uncharacteristic silence seemed to say as much as words ever could.

  'I am merely curious as to the success with which you for so long plied your criminal trade unapprehended,' Leth continued.

  'I am no criminal!' objected Ang. 'This is my territory!'

  Leth chose not to argue. 'Also the fact that the location of your castle has never been discovered, though it was long searched for and many clues were followed. It is as though you and it were protected.'

  Baron Ang's faced had taken on a greyish tinge.

  'There is something, isn't there?' said Leth.

  'No, you have it wrong, Clun. I was simply too clever for the Queen's troops.'

  Ang was no longer convincing. It seemed to Leth that he was thoroughly unnerved.

  A movement at the corner of his vision caused Leth to turn back to the mirror. His eyes widened. The surface of the mirror was in motion. It shifted, swelled, slowly, like viscid, mercurial sludge, as if something within it was disturbed.

  Instinctively Leth stepped back. As he did so the liquid silver glass gathered; a fluid form burst out of the mirror, a huge grasping hand formed of liquidized crystal. It reached out, and with a wet snapping sound its fingers closed upon the space Leth had just occupied.

  Leth staggered back as the hand reached for him again. He heard Baron Ang cry out in a guttural bellow, but did not make out his words. The silvered hand flew for him again. He darted away, seeking Galry and Jace, who stood huddled across the room.

  'Baron, what is happening here?' Leth shouted. 'What is this?'

  But Ang seemed in a frenzy, robbed of his mind. He was roaring and clutching at his throat as if in great pain, or terror, or both. And though his big form twisted and writhed he appeared to be rooted to the spot.

  Weaponless, Leth retreated, trying to avoid the mirror's hand but fearful that if he proved too elusive it might turn upon his children. He glanced frantically about him, seeking a weapon, though he was not sure that any normal weapon would be effective against so bizarre a foe.

  But the hand veered suddenly away. Extending further out of the mirror now, it turned and reached for Baron Ang, plucking him effortlessly from his place behind the table. He vented a terrible scream as he was dragged across the table, scattering goblets, plates, food and cutlery.

  'Help me! Oh no! Oh please, Clun, help me!'

  In Leth's ear - or was it in his mind? - a voice more urgent than any he had known hissed, 'Smash the mirror! Now!'

  Baron Ang was drawn blubbering into the mirror, his plump legs kicking wildly. Leth looked around desperately for something to smash the mirror. Beside the fireplace he saw a set of sturdy black irons. He threw himself across the chamber, grabbed one of these, spun and hurled it just as the great hand clasping Baron Ang melded back into the liquid glass. Baron Ang vanished entirely into the mirror's troubled surface at the same moment that the fire-iron flew. The mirror lapped murkily, settling quickly to stillness. As the iron smashed into it the mirror shattered with a strange clattering, sucking sound, into a million semi-liquid droplets. The weird glass disintegrated, falling to the floor in a shower of bright shards, gobbets and shimmering dust. Its golden frame also dissolved. Where the mirror had been was a shocking emptiness. And from somewhere deep within that emptiness came the sound of Baron Ang's stricken scream, diminishing into a terrible and unknowable distance until there was no sound at all.

  Leth stood, frozen, breathing hard, disbelieving. For a moment he was seized by a sensation of utmost dread, for he was staring, as he had stared before, into Nothing. He was cast back into Orbelon's world, where he had stood upon the Shore of Nothing, gaping numb and disbelieving into the vast, ungraspable emptiness that was the End of the World. And he felt again as he had felt then, that that terrible void had somehow entered him, that he would never again be free of it.

  He could barely breathe. His heart hammered, he felt nauseous, the air burned in his lungs. And then as he watched, the wall where the mirror had hung began to reappear. Within moments the rough grey stones had reformed and there was nothing to indicate that they had ever been absent.

  Leth turned, haggard and distraught. The cold flames in the great fireplace had gone; the hearth was empty. Galry and Jace stood beside it, watching him with saucer eyes. They were holding each other, pale with shock. He walked over and took them in his trembling arms. 'Come, brave little ones. We must leave this place.

  NINE

  i

  Castle Ang was now deserted. Leth had seen a full complement of men-at-arms and household staff when he had arrived with Galry and Jace, but none of them remained. They had not fled, nor hidden themselves; they had simply vanished. Whatever dread numen or malign force had resided in that place had held more than Baron Ang himself in thralldom within the domain of the living.

  Leth was anxious to be gone quickly but he nevertheless made a swift search of the castle. In a sidechamber he found weapons, and availed himself of a good longsword, dagger and hunting-knife. Another dagger and belt he gave to Galry. He found strong, waterproof capes and warm clothing, cloaks and blankets. In a pair of wooden chests beneath Baron Ang's bed he discovered a hoard of coins, precious gems and jewellery, and took more than enough to meet any expenses he might reasonably expect to incur over the coming weeks. The kitchen and pantries revealed an excellent choice of foodstuffs, and other sundry items of equipment he found in a storeroom.

  Though Castle Ang's personnel were gone, their livestock remained, including cattle, pigs, sheep and, in the stables, more than forty horses. Leth gave the mare he had bought from Jalibir to Jace to ride, then chose a strong black gelding for himself and a roan mare for Galry. He loaded their donkey with the provisions and equipment he deemed essential for the journey and tethered it to his mount. The other beasts he set free to roam as they would.

  As he rode out of the castle with his two children Leth turned in the saddle and looked back. Castle Ang revealed itself as a lowering three level donjon of grimy black stone, guarded by four squat, barrel-shaped towers and a high fortified curtain wall. White mist still clung about its mass, but overhead Leth glimpsed pale blue spaces and a hazy sun burning through.

  *

  They rode for an hour, with Leth keeping track of the sun in the hope of determining their direction. He observed the orientation of moss and lichen growing on tree-trunks and rocks, comparing this to the position the sun now occupied, and soon arrived at a confident assessment of north, south, east and west. Still, the landscape lacked familiar features, and having ridden here blindfolded Leth had no notion of which course to take to bring them back onto Angsway. Therefore they were obliged to cut out across country in a generally western direction, in the hope that within a few days they would find themselves in the vicinity of Ghismile Tarn.

  Looking back Leth had seen that Castle Ang, though secreted in a swale, remained visible from numerous points for almost half a league. From higher vantage points, he had calculated, it would be seen from further away. Hence he concluded that Baron Ang's hideout had previously been concealed by magical means; there could be no other explanation for Queen Fallorn's failure to locate it. The uncanny force that rendered it invisible must logically have been the same force that bestowed the semblance of life and consciousness upon Baron Ang and his followers - the force that issued from within the strange mirror. Had that force also been responsible for taking their lives in the first place? Leth turned away, shaking his head. He would probably never know.

  The land they were in was lonely and wild. Sparse forest half-clad rugged hills and high crags, with, opening before them as the mist cleared, a tract of bleak moorland dotted with granite tors.

  The day was chill. The lightest breeze began to gather, filt
ering down from the heights and dispersing the last remnants of mist. In a sheltered declivity they came upon a small blue lake, and Leth decided to rest for a while and eat. He built a fire at the back of the shore and toasted some fillets of pork, which he and the children ate with slabs of bread, soft white cheese, olives, mushrooms and nuts. As they finished their meal Leth sat gazing out over the tranquil water. The air in front of him gathered and shifted, and Issul stood there upon the sand. She looked uneasy, taut with concern. 'Thank the spirits, you are safe!'

  Leth jumped to his feet as the children, at first startled, ran to her. 'Iss, what is the matter?'

  'We lost you. The castle you entered has powerful magical defences. I could not get to you. I was so worried.'

  'What kind of magic, Iss? What was happening there?'

  'It is indefinable, but of Enchantment. Orbelon thinks it residual, that something of Enchantment lingers here. He terms the castle a Place of Power. A tremendous battle was fought over it long, long ago between various of the Highest Ones. Something still remains. The whole area is affected. You must get away from here quickly. Look, the water.'

  Leth peered again at the lake. At first nothing struck him as unusual, and then he gave a start. The lake itself was surrounded by rugged hills, rising to mountains on its southern side and the high moor towards the west. Yet reflected in the water's surface was another landscape, superficially similar yet far from being a mirror-image. Where mountains should be was cloudless blue sky; trees reflected boulders, or images of another species, or gave no reflection at all; the rising moor was not visible.

  Leth's skin prickled. He wondered at the warmth and tranquility of this place. He had become almost seduced by it, without considering that, away from the lakeside, the air had been cold and almost bitter. He called the children, who were again tearful and complaining loudly at their mother's inability to take them in her arms. He quickly gathered their belongings and smothered the fire with sand. 'Iss, where do we go now? We are lost.'

  Issul pointed. 'A little over a league in that direction you will come upon Angsway again. Follow it westerly, as before. Another three days or less will bring you to Ghismile Tarn. Take care. I can stay no longer.'

  She was gone. Galry and Jace cried. Leth tried to calm them but they could not understand what was happening, nor why their mother should leave them again so abruptly. He put them both upon their mounts, still weeping, and led them away.

  They skirted the lower reach of the moor, plunged back into the forest, rode a trackless way between the great trees with their sprawling boughs and branches and slowly tumbling leaves. An hour passed, and another, and then at last they broke out upon the sinuous, partially overgrown track that was Angsway.

  Along this the three travelled as the dusk gathered and eventually darkness came and the stars appeared in profusion. A gibbous moon, on this night unobscured by fog or cloud, shed a delicate glow upon the path, but Leth soon halted, suspecting that they were unlikely to find human habitation or shelter. He built a fire in a sheltered hollow, and with the children gathered armfuls of bracken and grass for a bed. They spread their blankets, ate a quick meal, and lay down, huddled together for extra warmth. For some time they watched the stars in their gradual drift, vast milky white clouds and numberless bright pinpoints of white fire. Soon Leth grew aware of the children’s deep even breathing, and knew they were asleep. In a short time he too became drowsy; his eyelids closed and he slept soundly until the dawn.

  *

  The following morning was colder. The previous day's light breeze became a cutting wind, descending in sharp, violent gusts to bend the trees and rip the leaves from their branches. From the northeast a pall of thick grey-white cloud began to blanket the sky.

  Midway through the morning, as they rode hunched in their saddles along the rim of a wooded ridge, Leth glanced into the valley beneath them and saw horsemen in great number. He halted and peered down, shielding his eyes against the wind with one hand. Then he quickly drew the children and horses back from the path, well out of sight of the riders below. He dismounted and crept back to observe.

  Crouched in bushes Leth watched as more than one hundred Karai horse-warriors plied their way along the valley floor. They were heading out into the wildlands, on a course that would take them across Angsway within an hour or so. What then? Would they turn to follow Angsway - in pursuit of Leth, or in the opposite direction?

  Their number implied that it was not Leth they sought. Indeed it was unlikely they would have any knowledge of his presence here. Had they a specific goal or were they seeking out remote towns and villages to plunder and raze?

  Leth watched until the last Karai had disappeared into the dark cluster of forest at the valley's mouth, reminded ever more forcefully of the urgency and immensity of what lay before him. Then he rose, brought the children from cover, and resumed his journey.

  The cloud pall dominated the entire sky now. The day was filled with the restless wind and the threat of winter storms. Angsway descended into dense, dark forest, which provided at least a modicum of shelter from the wind. Leth and the children ate in the saddle, for he was reluctant to stop lest the Karai be riding their way. The sighting of such a large contingent made him more wary than ever, and implied that others might already occupy the route somewhere ahead of him.

  As chill evening closed in Leth and the children came in sight of a long-deserted hamlet, consisting of a huddle of a dozen or so cottages of sombre grey stone in a stand of lonely elms. In one of these they took shelter. Outside the night gathered quickly, with the light of neither moon nor stars able to puncture the dense cloud-cover. With a fire warming the interior of the cottage the weary, saddle-sore travellers ate with little conversation, and quickly settled down to sleep.

  For another day they travelled, and twice more spied contingents of Karai. Both times Leth and the children were lucky to be unobserved, and the Karai passed on without awareness of them. Neither contingent was as strong as the one they had seen in the valley the previous day. Still, they were ominous enough, consisting of twenty to forty mounted warriors. Leth could only conclude that as the siege of Enchantment's Reach continued, Prince Anzejarl was dispatching units to terrorize and secure even the most insignificant outlying villages. His thoughts went to the villagers of Little Sprike, and to Bicault, Anacissia and their neighbours in their homes beside Wyslow Water.

  During the afternoon Leth and the children came to the end of Angsway, where it broke out upon a wider trail which twisted away into the forest to right and left. Angsway itself was barely visible here, no more than a vague gap between the trees. The road onto which they now broke out was the western way that would take them to within an hour or two's ride of Ghismile Tarn.

  Ever wary, Leth took the lefthand way. Though they had travelled a good distance since last spying Karai, he feared that they might be present in greater numbers on this road. Furthermore, by Issul's account, Grey Venger and the Legendary Child were somewhere hereabouts, if not in Ghismile itself. And the grullags they commanded could be anywhere within the woods.

  They rode for an hour more and then, as they entered a small, dank hollow, Issul stepped from beneath a tree onto the side of the road before them. Again the children clamoured to be with her. They jumped down from their mounts and ran to her. And again the tears glistened in Issul's eyes at the knowledge that she could not embrace them, nor her husband.

  'You must enter the forest here,' she told Leth, 'and avoid Ghismile village.'

  'Are Venger and the Child still there?'

  'I don’t know.'

  'Why not use this power of projection with which you are endowed to investigate the village?'

  'I have tried, Leth. I have also tried entering Enchantment's Reach, to make contact with Pader. But it is no good. I can bring myself only to you and our children, for I love you all so and yearn to be with you. That is the power that draws me, and this gift permits me nothing more. Perhaps at a later time,
with practice, I will develop it further. Listen now, carefully, before I am drawn back again.'

  She gave Leth detailed instructions for finding his way through the forest to the northern shore of Ghismile Tarn. Then she described the trail she herself had followed with Shenwolf only days earlier, which would bring Leth and the children to the secret Karai camp.

  'We will be watching you. When you reach the camp we will attempt a diversion to allow you to enter chamber hidden underground. From there, at last, you can pass through the Farplace Opening, and we can be together again. But be careful, Leth. It is dangerous.'

  'I know it.'

  'You must approach the camp itself with tremendous caution. The Karai have been there for several days now. They have had ample time to set traps, deadly traps in the surrounding woods. Be alert and don’t let your guard down for a moment.'

  Issul knelt, taut-faced, and touched her fingers to her lips, then motioned as though to transfer the kiss to her childrens' brows, though of course she made no contact. Her image was growing faint.

  'I am drawn from you again. Beware, my beautiful ones. Soon . . . soon. . . '

  ii

  They slept that night in the open, huddled together at the base of a giant oak, with no fire to warm them lest it attract watchful Karai or prowling grullags. In the morning they rose, stiff and all but numb with cold. The one mercy was that it had not rained.

  After they had stamped and kneaded and rubbed the circulation back into their bodies they ate a breakfast of cold mutton and bread, then continued on their way beneath the old trees. Issul's instructions for reaching the tarn-shore whilst avoiding Ghismile village itself were accurate and precise. Leth followed a north-westerly path, noting a wide stream and wooden bridge, both of which Issul had described. He crossed the bridge, then followed the stream's northern course as far as the ruins of an old charcoal-burner's dwelling. Here he led the children away into the forest again, judging Ghismile Tarn to lie now less than three leagues distant.