A Blackbird In Silver (Book 1)

by Freda Warrington

  ‘How long will that take?’

  ‘I don’t know. Perhaps a few days.’

  ‘Then what?’ Ashurek’s green eyes were glittering again, and he seemed dangerously restless.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  The Gorethrian rose and paced round the room. ‘Then,’ he said grimly, ‘armed with what little help the H’tebhmellians can give us, we face ice, snow and storms, and at last the Serpent.’

  ‘I know,’ Estarinel said quietly.

  ‘Do you? I have spent most of my life travelling and fighting… nor does Medrian seem inexperienced. But you would appear ill prepared for such a journey…’ Ashurek sighed, suddenly looking exhausted. ‘Still, I expected nothing of Eldor. I have not been disappointed.’

  Estarinel felt faintly annoyed at this. He wanted to ask what the Gorethrian would have preferred, why he doubted the H’tebhmellians’ word that a great army was unnecessary, even useless against the Serpent M’gulfn; and if he considered the H’tebhmellian ship to be ‘nothing’. But he felt too unsure of himself to speak. Eldor had brought the three of them together, and if he could not put faith in the sage, then all was lost before they had even begun. Perhaps he should not take Ashurek’s sour words so much to heart. He looked across at Medrian, but could still detect no trace of fellow-feeling in her blank eyes.

  ‘We will all be ill prepared if we do not get some sleep before the ship arrives,’ she said drily. Without a further word or glance for either of them she stood up and walked briskly to the door, her travel-dusty cloak swinging in a slight draught as she left the room.

  The fire flared, catching purple lights on the Gorethrian’s dark face. ‘She’s right,’ he said brusquely. ‘Talk was ever a waste of energy.’ He strode to the door, leaving Estarinel feeling bereft of hope of achieving any communication with the two strangers. The kitchen, once so bright and welcoming, now seemed full of black, dancing spectres. All he felt was dread.

  The Gorethrian paused in the doorway and said, in a less menacing tone, ‘I believe you’re as exhausted as me. Go to bed; brooding is an even greater waste of strength. I should know, though it’s a damnably hard lesson to learn.’

  #

  Eldor stretched out his feet in front of the fire and smiled, with some sadness, at his wife. Dritha drew a curtain and went to sit at the other side of the fireplace. They were alone in their room.

  ‘I wish I could tell them everything,’ he sighed.

  ‘That would not help,’ his wife answered. The firelight caught silver glints in her hair and eyes. ‘They would be caused bitterness and make wrong choices.’

  ‘Oh, I know… Their motives are so painful and personal that they are convinced they act for themselves. They would not believe that outside forces could so manipulate their actions. And while we are involved in that manipulation, we are just as much victims of it ourselves.’ Eldor gazed steadily into Dritha’s clear grey eyes. ‘So it begins, the Quest of the Serpent. The flow of powers in the universe has been going the Serpent’s way through billions of years since the world’s creation. Now at last it is time for the balance to be righted, before it tips completely in the Worm’s favour…’

  ‘We know that the balance must be righted, and assume that it will be,’ said Dritha, ‘but I believe you sometimes fear – as I do – that the Serpent will win, after all.’

  ‘It’s unthinkable,’ Eldor replied rapidly. This doubt was rarely voiced between them. ‘But yes, I sometimes think of what could happen… the chaos it would cause throughout the universe. And this world would be left floating in a timeless nightmare, adrift in an evil membrane through which the benign powers could never again penetrate.’

  ‘That’s what M’gulfn wants,’ his wife stated. ‘The odds are all in its favour, and more energy flows to it every day. Oh, Eldor, I wish it was over.’ She leaned forward and touched his knee. He closed his large, craggy hand around her fingers. Perfect and sorrowful understanding passed between them.

  ‘We, alone of all of them, elected to remain in human form when the others chose to depart. Now we must see through to the end what we have begun,’ the sage said.

  Dritha sat back, sadly turning her eyes away.

  ‘What we have begun,’ Eldor repeated softly, ‘albeit inadvertently, and with the best intentions.’

  ‘So be it, but it saddens me that three humans must suffer so much in the process – just three of them to be pushed this way and that by the struggling forces of the universe. Is there nothing we can do?’

  Eldor looked as deeply troubled as his wife.

  ‘We are doing what we can, though I agree it barely suffices. Only the H’tebhmellians can help them now. What knowledge they have is forbidden to us on Earth, lest the Serpent discover it.’

  ‘That is a price the Guardians have delighted in extracting from us,’ Dritha sighed.

  ‘Indeed.’ He nodded. ‘But it is understandable. You and I are supposed to be neutral, concerned only with the balance; but by remaining in this form and among humans we have abandoned neutrality. We have developed conscience, become aware of the cruelty of manipulation and our helplessness to avert it. I know how you feel, Dritha; that the saving of this world is surely more important than the redistribution of distant, mindless powers. And I agree.’

  ‘Yes,’ she said with feeling. ‘The Guardians must eventually atone for what they – what we – have set in motion; therein lies Earth’s only hope.’

  ‘They would say that it is easier not to hope, or even to think, but to be mindless, if only that were possible,’ Eldor said with a trace of humour. Dritha shivered, as if the fire’s yellow flames were ice. ‘But Medrian, Estarinel and Ashurek are human; they must find hope. I give as much as I can without the lie of false optimism.’

  ‘Oh, I fear for them,’ Dritha exclaimed. ‘When they find hope – if they are so fortunate – will they even then realise that it is more than hope they must seek?’

  For once the great sage had no answer. He looked up at the wall above the hearth where there hung a small, beautifully-worked tapestry depicting a stylised bird. It was in shadow, hard to discern. ‘It’s only a tapestry, only an image,’ said Dritha. ‘The reality they must learn and recognise for themselves.’

  #

  It was dark outside, and there was a distinct chill in the air, though the Forluinish seemed unaware of it as they sat on a large, smooth boulder on the bank of the stream. Next to them a gnarled tree leaned out over the water, half its roots exposed by the erosion of the earth beneath it. The stream bubbled past, clear, calm, oblivious to the feelings of the five humans staring disconsolately down at it. It was the following morning – heralded by the merest hint of twilight – and in a few minutes Estarinel must leave to join the H’tebhmellian ship.

  ‘There seems to be no colour at all here,’ said his sister, Arlena. ‘The valley’s all brown and rust and grey… so different to Forluin. Yet it has a kind of beauty… peace. I feel as if I could see into the clefts of rock over which the stream runs; into the hidden secrets of the Earth… even through to the other side. So different…’ Her voice trailed off. Estarinel looked at her slender hands, white against the dark rock.

  ‘What are they like, your companions?’ Falin asked quietly. Estarinel hesitated, not wanting to say anything that would make them worry even more.

  ‘Unhappy and desperate, like us,’ he said at last. ‘But as determined... and stronger than me, I think. Yes, they are strong.’

  ‘But to be trusted?’ Arlena needed to know.

  ‘Yes. I have faith in Eldor,’ he answered.

  ‘And I,’ said Edrien. ‘Heaven knows, we must have faith in something.’

  ‘He didn’t seem able to offer those poor Morrenish sailors much help,’ said Luatha. ‘I heard a couple of them muttering beside me that a time is coming when the Serpent will take over the whole Earth, and Prince Ashurek’s presence here proves it.’

  Arlena looked at her, alarmed. ‘It was just talk. The
Morrenish are superstitious, aren’t they?’ She clutched her brother’s arm. ‘E’rinel, I wish you did not have to go with that Gorethrian. He terrifies me.’

  Estarinel and Falin both put comforting arms around her.

  ‘Arlena, there’s no need to fear for me. He is the Serpent’s enemy, I am in no doubt of that. That’s what is important,’ Estarinel said, trying to sound reassuring. His sister straightened and pushed back her silver hair, recovering her composure with a courageous smile.

  ‘We must trust Eldor,’ said Luatha, reaching out to take her hand. All nodded in agreement, exchanging looks of love and hope that were as wretched as they were brave. Each was wrestling against private despair, the misery of parting, the feeling that the Serpent had already won and the Quest was just a pretence of hope.

  ‘E’rinel, there is some good news,’ said Falin more brightly. ‘We were talking to Dritha last night, after you’d gone with Eldor, saying – well, that the voyage back to Forluin would be a long and dreary one. She gave us something – I got the impression she did not part with it lightly, only because she was so concerned for us.’ Falin produced a small, pointed stone. ‘It is a sort of lodestone, which will enable us to return to Forluin within a month.’

  ‘That’s wonderful. I’m glad,’ said Estarinel, grateful that his friends would return home quickly, but not daring to wonder what they would find when they got there.

  They sat without speaking for a time, the only noise that of the running stream; just as if they were sitting in some calm glade in Forluin before the coming of the Worm. Arlena jumped like a startled gazelle before the others even heard the sound of grooms bringing horses to the front of the House of Rede.

  ‘E’rinel,’ Falin said, ‘you had better go.’

  Ashurek watched, from a distance, as Estarinel said goodbye to his friends. They all embraced him – Falin, Edrien, Luatha, and last of all his sister, Arlena. She clung to him, weeping openly.

  ‘Try not to worry about me, it won’t help,’ he told them, at a loss for words. ‘You must return to Forluin safely; that’s all that matters now.’

  Arlena let him go and stood close to Falin, both pale with sorrow. Estarinel mounted his horse and rode to where Ashurek, Eldor and Medrian waited. It was as if his four countrymen’s distress at his leaving had absorbed all his own capacity for sadness at that moment. He felt calm enough to produce a convincing smile and a wave as the four riders began to wind their way through the mountain passes that led to the shores of the Southern Ocean.

  Eldor went first, on a sturdy, pale grey heavy-horse, with Estarinel riding beside him. His great silver-brown stallion, Shaell, moved at a high-stepping prance. Following him came Ashurek, eyes fixed ahead of him. His mare, Vixata, was a finely-built, ethereal beast, gleaming gold and copper and silvery-white with a light of her own. She went with her delicate head high, her eyes pools of liquid jet, fire dripping from her mane. Medrian tailed at the back, speaking to no one. She rode a long, low beast, as black as a beetle, that went with a sullen manner and flattened ears.

  The mountains were bulks of shadow in the darkness. It was a few hours’ ride to the coast, where the H’tebhmellian ship awaited them. The hired vessel on which Medrian had arrived had already departed, and a message was to be taken to Ashurek’s Tearnian crew that he no longer needed their ship.

  Estarinel and Eldor rode in silence for a time. Then Eldor said, ‘So the plan is for you to sail the ship until it delivers you to the Blue Plane, and to find help there. It should take only a few days. Then you will return to Earth and go north to destroy the Serpent.’

  ‘Much could go wrong,’ Estarinel replied quietly.

  ‘Well, I must warn you that the Serpent will not remain in ignorance about the attack you plan.’

  ‘But how could it know?’ Estarinel asked, dismayed.

  ‘If it could not see almost everything it wants to, it would be far less trouble to the world. It cannot read minds – as a rule – but it will know. Perhaps it knows of your coming already.’ Seeing the expression on the young Forluinishman’s face, Eldor continued, ‘Estarinel, I am not trying to frighten you, just to warn you of what you will have to face. There is much more to it than its hideous physical being.’

  Estarinel looked at Eldor, perplexed. ‘Please, give me some advice. How can Ashurek and Medrian be so certain of their purpose? To me this journey is like stepping into an abyss with closed eyes.’

  ‘They are not certain of themselves; it is like that for them too, but need has made them push doubt from their minds. I know you are demoralised and confused by the attack on Forluin, and at every turn you are told you are trying to destroy something indestructible. But you must put these difficulties behind you, because the Quest must take place.

  ‘The journey won’t be easy, and you may have to depend on those who cannot really be trusted, so you must always have your wits about you. Never take anything for granted, but at the same time be aware that action is often more appropriate than analysis…’

  Estarinel grimaced. ‘If only the H’tebhmelIians could have sent a mighty warrior – not me!’

  Eldor laughed. ‘You Forluinish have a charming unworldliness. You also have a great deal of common sense.’ He paused. ‘I may be wrong, but it seems to me that the Serpent attacked you physically because it cannot attack you mentally. That may be your greatest weapon.’ Eldor did not add that it might be a weapon easily tom away in a violent world.

  ‘My thanks for the encouragement, Eldor,’ the fledgling knight smiled.

  Eldor thought, I wish I could tell you the truth, Estarinel – but it would help not at all, and it would make no difference, except to make things worse. He shook his head in sadness.

  The cold southern mountains reared around them, bleak and impassive. Presently Eldor pulled up his horse and indicated a track climbing up the rocks to their left. ‘Your way to the coast will be quickest if you go by that track. You can’t miss the ship. It’s best that I leave you here, my old horse is not as fit as he was.’ He shook hands with the three, bidding them farewell and good luck. He turned his steed, but hesitated, and touched Medrian gently on the arm, saying, ‘Fare you well, brave child.’ Then he rode away, a broad figure receding into shadow, and Estarinel felt that he had said too little, departed too suddenly. It seemed that the very last vestige of friendship and safety was dwindling to nothing with Eldor, leaving only the cold unknown to welcome them now.

  He glanced at his companions and was struck by the intensity of their gaze. Ashurek’s eyes were bitter and piercing, Medrian’s expressionless and dark. Yet it was the woman’s eyes that chilled him to the heart.

  ‘Come on then,’ said Ashurek, nudging the warm flanks of his mare. They began the ascent of the steep side-pass.

  Within two hours’ ride, they were guiding their mounts down slippery, black paths to the beach. The dark cliff dropped sheer to the water’s edge, separated from it only by a narrow, gritty beach that gleamed with faint radiance in the dim twilight. The horses slithered gratefully from the treacherous paths to solid ground. The sea was sullen but calm. The whole day had an atmosphere of foreboding, which probably suited the mood of Ashurek and Medrian very well; but Estarinel, of a laughter- and light-loving race, felt increasingly oppressed by it.

  Then they saw the ship.

  She was moored beneath the shelter of a great bluff, fifty or so yards away. She was clean-lined, slender and beautiful, of an ancient, simple design, built of pale smooth wood. Her figurehead was tall and swan-necked with a mythical beast’s head. At her stem was a slim, fluted tail. Her decks were smooth and shone with a glistening radiance that fell from her three masts. At the top of each a white light sparkled; but they had no sails. Nor were there holes for oars.

  ‘Very pretty,’ said Ashurek, ‘but how does she sail?’

  They cantered towards her, Medrian hanging back slightly on her skeletal steed. Clouds of the horses’ breath floated on the crisp air and the crunch of thei
r hooves was muffled by the rushing of the sea. The ship was rocking gently in the waves, as lovely as the moon. Her name was etched delicately on her bows: The Star of Filmoriel. They sat and stared at her for a long time.

  At last Ashurek nudged his mare forward. A wide gang-plank had been lowered into the shallow waves, yet none of them had noticed it being let down.

  They dismounted, wading into the tide and leading the snorting, shying horses to the gang-plank. Estarinel went first, leading his courageous stallion who went calmly, ears flickering. Medrian’s strange beast fought a little, teeth bared as it strained against the bit. She spoke a few words in its ear and it came reluctantly, showing the whites of its eyes. Estarinel felt an instinctive revulsion for the creature, as strong as his fascination with Medrian. The bond between woman and horse was disquieting.

  Ashurek came last. His delicate mare went wild, rearing and snorting, kicking up foam on the water and nearly causing Ashurek to loose her. He managed to guide her to the gang-plank and she suddenly shot up sideways like a crab to stand trembling and dripping on the deck.

  Another plank led down into the hold, where they found quarters for the horses, complete with straw and fodder. They settled the beasts, then explored the vessel.

  There were four small cabins, two fore and two aft, simple but comfortable. There was an ample supply of provisions and fresh water. But there were no sails, no oars, no wheel or any means of navigation. Although the ship was behaving as if moored, she had no anchor. There were certainly no one aboard, but when they returned to the deck the gang-plank had been drawn up. Medrian climbed to the forecastle deck, leaving the two men alone.

  ‘And we are supposed to trust this entity?’ Ashurek said flatly.

  ‘But the ship is honest, well-meaning,’ said Estarinel. ‘You must feel that? The horses have settled quickly. They know.’ When Ashurek still looked skeptical, he went on, ‘I never expected there to be a crew on board. The H’tebhmellians are a mysterious people. Our lands have close contact with them, but they are not human.’ Estarinel leaned on the rail and gazed into the water.