Realm of Mindweavers: Book one: Tales of Golmeira

by Marianne Ratcliffe

  Eventually they found it.

  ‘Cintara – this must be it!’ exclaimed Bedrun. ‘It’s spelt with a “C”.’

  ‘Oh, well, I always was rubbish at spelling,’ said Zastra with a grin. Bedrun read the entry.

  ‘Cintara, a rare dwarf tree, which grows in shaded mountain shale, is renowned for certain properties of its bark. When refined by a complex process of smoking and soaking, a fine red/brown power is obtained. This substance has a bitter taste and distinctive odour. When ingested by one with mindweaving ability, it heightens powers. It has also been rumoured that it can grant abilities to those who lack the power of mindweaving. The use of cintara bark has been banned in Golmeira since the fifth year of Fostran II’s reign due to its addictive properties and dangerous side effects, which can include madness and death.’

  Zastra sat back in her chair. ‘Well!’ she exclaimed. ‘That’s why they’re all so worried. If there are mindweavers who stand against us, this cintara bark could allow them to become very powerful, and even our council may not be able to protect us.’

  ‘Why?’ asked Bedrun, who like most people was largely ignorant of the details of mindweaving. She was several months younger than Zastra and had not yet taken the test. Zastra told her what she had learnt from Dobery.

  ‘Oh!’ exclaimed Bedrun, beginning to understand. ‘So, that day – the day you and Rastran fought in the combat grounds – I saw the most terrible things. I thought I’d just turned loony. That was Rastran doing his mindweaving?’

  Zastra nodded. ‘Yes, that’s why I went for him. It’s not fair to use that power like that. Dobery says—’ ‘Shhhh!’ A short, grey-bearded man glared at them from across the room. ‘Quiet in the library.’

  ‘I didn’t think we were being that loud,’ whispered Bedrun.

  ‘No, indeed,’ said Zastra, glaring at the man with what she hoped was a regal glare worthy of a Grand Marl in waiting.

  ‘What are you doing?’ asked Bedrun. ‘You look as if you are about to pee.’

  ‘Nothing,’ said Zastra, flushing rather red. The man continued to look at them.

  ‘Why is he still staring?’ whispered Zastra. ‘You’d think a cintara tree was growing out of my head or something.’

  ‘Shh, he’s coming over.’

  As the man wandered towards them, the two girls made a great show of making notes.

  ‘Isn’t it time for you little ones to go to snoozie-land?’

  Zastra’s eyes widened in amazement and Bedrun chuckled in response to her shocked expression.

  ‘Snoozie-land!’ exclaimed Zastra in disbelief, as Bedrun dragged her away from the library. ‘Do we look like babies? He needs to go to old-men-who-need-glasses-land.’ Bedrun burst out laughing. As they scurried down the stairs in high spirits, they bumped heavily into the broad chest of Thorlberd.

  ‘Steady, young ladies,’ he said, jovially. ‘What’s all the excitement?’ ‘Um, just doing some schoolwork,’ said Zastra, with an unsuccessful attempt at casualness.

  ‘Well, it’s good to see young people enjoying their studies so much,’ said Thorlberd. ‘Tell, me, what is so interesting that it keeps you girls studying at this late hour?’

  ‘We were, um, looking at a map of Golmeira, trying to find snoozie-land,’ said Bedrun. Both girls spluttered into fits of giggles. Thorlberd shook his head in bafflement as the girls headed off towards their rooms, still laughing. It was nearly their allotted bedtime, and after a quick goodbye, Bedrun rushed away, telling Zastra she did not want to get in trouble with Morel the day before her mother left for Waldaria.

  Chapter Nine

  Zastra however, could not sleep. She was thinking about cintara bark. What if it could give someone like her mindweaving ability? She would be able to prove to her father that she was not useless. Could it be so? Deep into the night, she tossed and turned, but the idea refused to leave her. Eventually she gave up trying to sleep. There was only one way to find out: try it and see. It would be risky. She would be breaking the law of Golmeira and would be in serious trouble if she were caught. Yet it was worth the danger, surely, to prove herself to her father? And she would be able to show Rastran a thing or two as well. She made up her mind.

  The cintara bark was certain to be locked away in her father’s strong box and she knew where he kept his keys. Throwing on some clothes, she found herself tip-toeing into her parents’ room, reflecting briefly that sneaking about the castle at night was becoming a bit of a habit. They were both asleep in bed. She extracted Leodra’s keys from the pocket of his coat as delicately as she could, but she was unable to stop them jangling together. Her father’s prone body jerked under the covers. Zastra stood frozen, clasping the cold metal keys together with both hands until Leodra settled and lay still.

  The door to her father’s outer office creaked alarmingly as she opened it, the sound echoing down the dark corridors of the castle. She hurried through to the inner office, where the strongbox was hidden beneath a stone trapdoor. She pulled the box out and opened it. Amongst the papers and rolls of silver tocrins, there were two small cloth bags, each containing a powder that appeared reddish-orange in the dimmed light of her jula lamp. That must be it, Zastra thought. Hesitating only briefly, she licked her finger and dipped it in to the powder. She had gone too far to stop now. The bark tasted so bitter she was almost sick. A faint buzzing reverberated inside in her head. Distracted, she did not hear the creak of the door opening.

  A figure dressed in a soldier’s uniform loomed before her, illuminated by the lamp. Oddly, its head was that of a bear. Zastra’s eyes widened in shock. The bear-soldier seemed to be trying to speak, but strange grunts came out of its mouth. Staring at it, Zastra felt an overwhelming fear and an utter conviction that it meant to kill her. She could hear a screaming noise. The giant bear split into two twin bears, one of which came towards her, claws outstretched. She fought, thrashing wildly, as the bear smothered her, realising with surprise that the screaming was her own. Another dark figure loomed behind the bear-soldier and she felt a probe enter her mind which she couldn’t repel. Blackness descended.

  When she came round, her head was throbbing and she was instantly sick all over the polished wooden floor. She was still in her father’s office. In front of her stood Martek, Dobery and a sergeant of the castle guard. They didn’t look pleased.

  ‘Zastra!’ exclaimed Dobery. She had never seen him look so angry. ‘What in the stars are you doing?’ Zastra hung her head. There was no point in trying to deny her purpose. The trapdoor lay open, the bags of bark clearly on display. Her guilt was obvious to all.

  ‘I just wanted to try,’ she sighed. ‘It said in the book that it could give me mindweaving powers. I only wanted to help Father against his enemies.’ Even as she said the words, they sounded pathetically stupid.

  ‘I thought you had more sense, girl.’ Dobery shook his head. ‘Cintara bark is very dangerous. You could have killed yourself.’

  ‘There was a giant bear,’ said Zastra, defensively. ‘It tried to kill me.’

  ‘That was me,’ said Martek, ‘and I most certainly was not trying to kill you. I was trying to stop you hurting yourself, or anyone else.’

  ‘Are you sure?’ asked Zastra with suspicion.

  ‘Don’t you trust me?’ Martek asked, looking hurt. Dobery laid a restraining hand on his shoulder.

  ‘It’s the cintara making her think that. Zastra, you know Martek would never hurt you.’

  Zastra shook her head savagely, trying to clear her thoughts. She looked at the huge form of the master at arms. Of course Martek was her friend.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she sobbed. ‘I don’t know what I was thinking.’

  ‘Cintara bark reveals certain things to those without powers, but never true things,’ said Dobery. ‘It amplifies people’s innermost fears and fools them into thinking they have uncovered some secret thoughts in the minds of others. But it is a lie.’

  Martek rubbed his head. ‘I guess that’s why you ru
shed at me – look, you’ve torn out some of my hair. It’s not as if I have much to spare these days.’

  ‘I’m really sorry,’ repeated Zastra.

  ‘I don’t know what your father will say,’ said Dobery, clucking in continued disapproval.

  ‘Oh, please don’t tell anyone,’ sobbed Zastra. ‘Father already hates me. And everyone else would make fun of me if they knew what I’d done.’ She could already picture Rastran, laughing and gloating at her disgrace. She thought she might be sick again.

  Dobery and Martek exchanged looks. Martek shook his head, sighing.

  ‘Sergeant, can we rely on your discretion?’ he asked the other soldier, who had been watching everything keenly.

  ‘Yes sir,’ replied the man, an instant before sinking to the ground in a heap. Zastra gaped at the sight.

  ‘He was lying,’ said Dobery, shortly. ‘I’ve had to take away the memory of this event and replace it with another one.’ He shook his head. ‘I don’t like doing such things. Zastra, you see the consequences of your stupidity?’

  Zastra nodded, oppressed with guilt and shame. The knowledge that her humiliation would be known only to Dobery and Martek was small consolation.

  *

  The next morning, Zastra awoke with a terribly sore head, but at least her strange black mood had lifted. After splashing some water on her face, she went to see Dobery. She was rather nervous, since he had been so angry the night before, but she couldn’t bear for them to not be friends. She found him packing a small leather rucksack.

  ‘Ah, Zastra,’ he said. ‘Do come in. I’m afraid I’m called away on your father’s business.’ He looked at her, his head cocked enquiringly. ‘Perhaps that’s not news to you, since you already seem to know a lot of secrets.’

  Zastra stared down at her feet.

  ‘I’m sorry about last night, Dobery,’ she said. ‘What I did was very wrong and stupid.’

  ‘That we can agree on,’ he said, his eyes creasing as he smiled. ‘Well, well, it’s in the past now, and at least you have realised the error of your behaviour.’

  Zastra was relieved that he seemed back to his old self. He looked down at her with a serious expression.

  ‘You will never be a mindweaver, Zastra. You must accept that.’

  ‘I know,’ she sighed.

  Dobery turned his attention to his packing. As he folded a tunic, he continued, not looking at her directly.

  ‘When I was young, I had a brother who was very dear to me,’ he said. ‘He was jealous of my mindweaving abilities so, like you, he tried cintara bark. He thought it helped him see into the minds of others, even though I tried to tell him that all it showed were falsehoods. Eventually, his belief in the visions caused him to take his own life.’

  ‘Oh, how terrible!’ said Zastra, her mouth hanging open in horror.

  ‘Just give me your word that you’ll never try it again.’

  ‘I promise,’ said Zastra, echoing his seriousness.

  Dobery nodded in satisfaction and patted his bag.

  ‘Well, looks like I’ve nearly finished. If only I could find my spare tobacco…’

  ‘How long will you be gone?’ Zastra asked.

  ‘I cannot tell,’ he answered, ‘but I fear it will not be a short trip. You must continue your studies alone while I’m gone. In truth, there is not much more I can teach you. Practice and hard work are the main requirements now.’ He looked at her with a strange look that she couldn’t quite fathom and then said with great seriousness. ‘My dear, you may already know something of what is happening, but let me urge you to be on your guard. There is an evil walking this land. What makes it worse is that we do not know or understand our enemy. They could be anywhere, perhaps even here in the castle. Be careful, be watchful, and above all look out for yourself. And don’t go looking for danger, as you sometimes have done in the past.’

  ‘Because danger could be anywhere!’ a familiar shrill voice called from the door. Zastra spun round to see the dreaded figure of Teona. She looked a little flustered; a number of strands of hair had escaped their tight binding, framing her head in a pale orange halo. A dagger prodded into Zastra’s mind, but she had instinctively raised her mental barriers and she successfully blocked the probe.

  ‘Hah!’ spat out Teona. ‘Good girl.’ To her immense surprise, Zastra saw the glimmer of smile break through the normally sour face of the highmaster. Zastra was momentarily speechless at the realisation that Teona was actually capable of smiling.

  ‘Child, leave us,’ ordered Teona, in a voice that did not admit argument, although it did not carry the usual sprinkling of scorn. ‘I need to talk with Master Dobery before he departs.’

  Zastra paused, then rushed up to Dobery and gave him the biggest hug her slight frame could muster.

  ‘I’ll miss you Dobery,’ she said, suddenly realising how much she had come to rely on him, with his kind, wise words, and his constant welcoming smile. ‘Be careful,’ she whispered, before turning and running away with unexpected tears in her eyes.

  Chapter Ten

  The next morning, Zastra was halfway to Dobery’s quarters before she remembered that he wouldn’t be there. With a heavy heart, she changed her path and went to the nursery to see her baby brother and sister. While everyone else seemed tense and worried, the two little children were bright beacons of happy activity. Anara was already there and Zastra spent a pleasant hour with her mother and the twins. A respectful knock on the door was followed by the entry of Jannal.

  ‘I apologise for intruding during your private time, Lady Anara,’ he said. ‘We have received a messenge from the Sendorans and it seems they are already on their way. They are close to Riverford and should be here within the week. With the Marl of Bractaris and his party in the main guest quarters, I need to know where I should house them.’

  ‘The Sendorans are already in Golmeira?’ asked Anara, in surprise.

  ‘Yes, according to the Sendoran ambassador they were already on their way to seek an audience with the Grand Marl. They claim to have sent word via messenger several weeks ago, but no messenger arrived here.’

  ‘Well,’ said Anara, ‘perhaps this is a good thing. The sooner we can sort out the Sendoran situation the better. I think we’d better set aside the house of Brandicant for the Sendoran party. Make sure it is fitted out in the best style. We will need to get in special supplies for the fellgryffs.’

  ‘I’ve already made arrangements, my Lady. I’ve ordered in supplies of snellgrass and tyndalstone from Port Trestra. If you will excuse me, I must attend to the House of Brandicant. Who knows what state it will be in. I don’t think it has been used for over six years.’ He left with a short, well practised bow.

  ‘What’s happening?’ asked Zastra.

  ‘It seems we are to receive the Lord of Sendor and his family. You must try to treat our visitors with respect and honour. No wild behaviour please, Zastra. Promise me?’

  Zastra nodded. Her ears had pricked up at the mention of the Sendorans. She had not forgotten what she and Bedrun had overheard.

  ‘I remember learning about the Sendoran War in class,’ she said, wrinkling her forehead in concentration. ‘I can’t remember if they are part of Golmeira or not. Why are they coming?’

  ‘I shall have to make sure the topic is included in this week’s lessons,’ said Anara. ‘Many years ago, before even I was born, there was a bitter war between us and the Sendorans, who wished to break away from Golmeira. Many young men and women were killed.’

  ‘How did it end?’

  ‘A truce. Sendor was granted independence, which included the agreement that soldiers of Sendor were no longer bound to fight for Golmeira in times of trouble. However, Sendor must pay a yearly tribute to the Grand Marl, and Golmeira retained the disputed border region, including the port of Castanton. This agreement has held thus far, but there is frequently trouble in the borders. You see, there is still a good deal of bitterness left over from the war and many of our people thin
k we should reassert our rights, whereas many Sendorans believe the border regions belong to them. I hope that by talking with the Lord of Sendor we can try and heal some of these wounds, but it is always hard when each side holds such prejudices.’

  ‘Why aren’t they staying in the castle itself?’ asked Zastra. ‘That old Brandicant house is dusty and full of mice and insects. And it smells.’

  Anara raised an eyebrow. ‘I won’t ask how you know so much about a house that is closed up and strictly out of bounds, Zastra.’

  Zastra squirmed. Last summer, she and her friends had found a way into the closed up house by squeezing through a loose board. It had been a wonderful base for their secret games until the sad day that the loose board had been repaired. Anara continued.

  ‘Since Thorlberd has the best guest apartments in the southwest tower, the Sendorans may take offence if they are given inferior accommodation. However, your uncle would not take kindly to being moved. The house of Brandicant, whilst within the castle grounds, is separate, giving the Sendorans some independence. Also they can house their fellgryffs in the stables at the back of the house.’

  ‘Fellgryffs?’ Zastra asked, eyes widening.

  ‘The Sendorans use them as we do horses, but they are very different. They come from the mountains and are remarkably surefooted. However, they are wary of strangers, so be careful if you come across one. Especially of their horns.’

  ‘Oh, I can’t wait to see what a fellgryff looks like!’ exclaimed Zastra. ‘When do you think will they be here?’ ‘Well, we must look out for them,’ replied Anara. ‘Now, is it not time for school?’

  Zastra hurried off just as the gong was sounding the call to lessons. She was a few minutes late and apologised to Sestra as she slid into her seat. During a lesson on botany, she told Bedrun what she had learnt about Sendor.

  ‘Morel told me the same thing,’ said Bedrun. ‘Let’s hope they tell us some more in the history lesson tomorrow.’