Realm of Mindweavers: Book one: Tales of Golmeira

by Marianne Ratcliffe

  Indeed, the next day’s lesson centred on the Sendoran War. Zastra hadn’t realised how much control her mother had over their lessons and she briefly wondered whether this had ever happened before. She did recall a rather coincidental lesson about dangerous wood-dwelling animals the day after she and Heldrid had sneaked out of the castle and got lost in Highcastle Forest.

  ‘Zastra, are you paying attention?’ Zastra snapped out of her reverie to find Sestra looking sternly at her.

  ‘Can you please tell the class what we’ve just learnt about the feeding requirements of the Sendoran fellgryff?’ Sestra asked with a withering look.

  Zastra racked her brains. What had Jannal said in her mother’s apartments about getting in supplies for the fellgryff?

  ‘Um, they eat sneezegrass and ticklestone?’ she guessed, with a hopeful grimace. Several members of the class laughed.

  ‘Tyndalstone, not ticklestone,’ corrected the teacher, ‘and snellgrass. Zastra, please try and pay attention. I shall give you extra homework after class, since you seem to have missed most of the lesson.’

  Bedrun smiled sympathetically at her friend as Sestra turned her attention back to the rest of the class.

  ‘Now, students, can anyone tell me about the Sendoran War?’ she asked.

  Heldrid put his hand up. ‘My mother says they are vicious barbarians and we should take back the land that belongs to us,’ he said.

  ‘Quite right,’ agreed Rastran. ‘It is a sign of weakness that we allowed part of Golmeira to break away. They are all stupid brutes, not a mindweaver amongst them. And the tribute is a joke – barely enough tocrins to fill my hat.’

  ‘That’s only because his head is so big,’ muttered Zastra to Bedrun.

  ‘It is true there are no mindweavers in Sendor,’ said Sestra, ‘although some of them do have a strong resistance to the power. To use the word “barbarian” is a little unfair. They have artists and scientists as skilled as our own, although their lifestyle does tend to be more harsh and rustic than ours, due to the mountainous terrain of Sendor. The tribute is substantial and a cause of contention amongst many Sendorans.’

  ‘Well, I think we should go there and teach them a lesson,’ said Rastran, to nods of agreement around the class.

  ‘Surely we are better to talk to them, rather than fighting?’ suggested Bedrun, mildly.

  ‘Oh, yes, let’s talk,’ sneered Rastran, sarcastically. ‘Talking is all you girls are good at. What a stupid suggestion.’

  Zastra was sorely tempted to ask Rastran whether his plan was to scowl the Sendorans into submission. Since his fighting skills were so bad, that was surely his only option. However, she swallowed the insult, remembering her promise to Anara that she would try not to fight with her cousin.

  The class spent the rest of the morning learning more about the history of Golmeira and Sendor. For once, Zastra was fascinated, especially the bit about how some of the Sendorans could, like her, resist mindweaving. She awaited their visit with impatience.

  Chapter Eleven

  It was five long days before the Sendorans finally arrived, late in the afternoon. Zastra, watching from one of the courtyard balconies, was struck by the difference in their manner of arriving to that of her uncle and cousin. Whereas the Bractarians had arrived with great train and elegant, gleaming carriages, the Sendorans were a much smaller group; barely a dozen, and they all appeared shabby and dust-stained from the journey. Their leader was clear by his bearing and the duty paid to him, but he was dressed in similar rough clothing to the rest of the party. Two children, one about Zastra’s age, the other a few years younger by the look of him, were also present. All were riding on the strangest animals she had ever set eyes on. They were the size of small horses, with unusually large hooves, and some of the grown-ups looked rather oversized for their mounts. The creatures were untidy in appearance, with matted woolly hides. Most striking of all, they had two ribbed horns, each about a foot long and pointing straight out from above their eyes. These horns ended in dangerously sharp points. The creatures were always skittering, never still, requiring a good deal of management by their riders.

  Zastra was called down to meet the guests. She was introduced to Mendoraz, Lord of Sendor, a fair-haired man with several days’ growth of beard across his travel-stained face. His two children were introduced as Kylen, a girl of Zastra’s age, and her younger brother, Zadorax, who they called Zax. Both had inherited their father’s fair hair and pale skin. They returned Zastra’s greeting politely and then, at Anara’s request, Zastra took them on a brief tour of the castle before taking them to their quarters in the house of Brandicant. The Sendoran children were rather quiet and restrained as Zastra showed them the great hall and some of the more elegant rooms of state, but became more animated when she took them to the stables to see the horses.

  ‘How large they are!’ exclaimed Zax, open eyed with amazement. ‘Do they bite?’

  ‘Not usually,’ smiled Zastra, and showed them how to stroke the horses’ noses and feed them.

  ‘Our fellgryffs would never allow a stranger to touch them like this,’ said Kylen, patting the neck of a sturdy brown mare.

  ‘Are they really dangerous?’ asked Zastra, full of curiosity.

  ‘Yes, if you don’t treat them with proper respect,’ replied Kylen. ‘A fellgryff would bite your hand off, or impale you on its horns without blinking if you aren’t careful. But they are the best of animals once tamed. There’s no better friend you could have.’

  Zax could not suppress a yawn, and with a jolt Zastra realised how tired they must be.

  ‘I’ll take you to your quarters,’ she said quickly. ‘It’s a good old house, the house of Brandicant. Me and my friends used to sneak in and play there, until they repaired the walls. It’s got the largest bath you’ve ever seen, with golden taps and—’

  ‘Yes indeed!’ came the unwelcome voice of Rastran from the bottom of the stables. ‘Good point, cousin, our visitors could certainly do with a bath,’ he said, wrinkling his nose in disgust.

  ‘That’s not what I meant!’ Zastra cried, looking apologetically at the Sendoran children.

  ‘Perhaps they’d be more comfortable here, sleeping with the animals,’ Rastran continued, grinning unpleasantly.

  Zax looked upset, more by the unfriendly tone than the insult, which he didn’t fully understand.

  ‘I apologise for my cousin Rastran’s lack of manners,’ said Zastra, embarrassed and angry in equal measure.

  ‘Don’t apologise for me, cousin.’

  ‘Maybe you have a point,’ said Kylen steadily. ‘Animals are better company than some humans.’ As she said this, she directed a significant look at Rastran. The Sendoran girl then turned back towards Zastra.

  ‘We have had a long journey, so if you would show us to our quarters, we would be grateful,’ she said stiffly. Zastra nodded and led the way out of the stables. Zax followed as fast as his short legs would allow.

  Zastra left the Sendorans at the house of Brandicant. They had not exchanged any words with her during the short trek to the house and she was afraid that the visitors were irretrievably offended, as indeed they had every right to be.

  Chapter Twelve

  Lessons were suspended in honour of the Sendoran visitors. However, the warnings Dobery had impressed upon her before he left made Zastra want to concentrate even more on both her normal and her secret studies. She asked Martek for extra lessons in the fighting skills and, with a thoughtful nod, he agreed. Zastra was relieved that he seemed to have forgotten the embarrassing cintara incident. Early each morning he gave her one-to-one tuition on all aspects of fighting, including swordplay, knife throwing and hand-to-hand combat.

  Towards the end of one of these lessons, they were interrupted by Kylen and Zax, who had risen early and decided to explore the castle grounds. They watched for a while and then Kylen offered to try herself against Zastra. Martek stepped back to let them fight. They had similar builds, although Kylen was sl
ightly taller. Zastra attacked and the Sendoran weaved to one side with a rapid motion. Zastra found herself on her back, pinned to the ground and unable to move.

  ‘Give?’ asked Kylen.

  ‘Give…’ ceded Zastra, reluctantly.

  ‘I guess it’s true that Golmeirans only win battles by using their mindfogging trickery,’ Kylen said, with a look of contempt.

  ‘That’s a lie!’ exclaimed Zastra hotly. They faced each other again with the same result. Although she was annoyed to be beaten, Zastra insisted on trying again. She was determined to work out how Kylen was besting her. At the fifth attempt, she avoided Kylen’s hold and managed to get a grip on her opponent for the first time. Kylen rolled in a manner Zastra had not expected, ending up on top of her. Zastra was forced to give way once more.

  ‘Perhaps we should stop now?’ said Kylen, not unkindly, but a fierce competitiveness had been raised in Zastra and she insisted on continuing. She was not used to being bested, especially in the fighting skills.

  A good hour later, bruised and exhausted, Zastra finally succeeded in knocking her opponent off her feet. She tried to press her advantage, but Kylen was up in an instant and Zastra found herself thrown once more on her already bruised hip. She couldn’t suppress a small grunt of pain and Kylen stood back.

  ‘I’ll have to stop now,’ said the fair-haired girl, ‘I’m exhausted.’ Zastra was secretly glad, as she did not think she could have continued much longer. She suspected Kylen was being kind, but didn’t really care.

  ‘I’ll have to admit defeat,’ she puffed. ‘You have a strange way of fighting, but it’s pretty good. Do they teach you that in Sendor?’

  ‘I’ve been taught different ways of fighting for as long as I can remember. Hand-to-hand and spear work are considered the most important fighting skills in our land.’

  ‘What about archery and sword fighting?’ asked Zastra, still trying to regain her breath.

  ‘Broadsword, yes, but not until we are strong enough. We don’t think much of archery. We Sendorans like to fight close, not hide in the distance.’

  ‘I’ve always been taught that the archers are often the difference between winning and losing in battle. I quite like the crossbow myself. Perhaps later I can show you and Zax. Give me a chance to regain some pride.’

  ‘Well, I suppose it’s only fair,’ returned Kylen. ‘Is there a water barrel anywhere? I’m ready for a drink.’

  Zastra led them to a nearby water store. They all drank gratefully and flopped onto the grass. All too soon, the companionable silence was broken by Rastran, who has just finished his own mindweaving lessons. He was with Mercan, a heavily built Bractarian youth.

  ‘Well, well, consorting with the animals, cousin?’ Rastran sneered.

  Zastra was too tired to even bother to reply, but Zax, having merely sat and watched his sister and Zastra fighting all morning, was full of energy and faced the older boys.

  ‘We’re not animals,’ he piped up boldly.

  ‘We’re not animals,’ repeated Rastran, in a mocking, high-pitched imitation of the young boy. He and Mercan laughed unpleasantly.

  ‘Well you smell like animals,’ sniggered Mercan.

  ‘Your mother should teach you better. You may run around unwashed in Sendor, but this is a royal court. But perhaps you don’t have a mother. I didn’t see one. Unless you descended from a she-fellgryff?’ said Rastran.

  ‘My mother is dead, you nasty…’ cried Zax, running at the older boy. It was a complete mismatch. Rastran grabbed the young boy by the hair and dumped him unceremoniously on the ground, laughing in triumph. At this, the two girls jumped to their feet. The older boys instantly narrowed their eyes with a look that Zastra was beginning to recognise. Sure enough, she felt a touch on her mind. However, thanks to her training with Dobery, her defences were strong and she was not averted. To her surprise, she noticed Kylen was also unaffected.

  ‘You have no power over me, cousin,’ said Zastra with a warm feeling of satisfaction. Rastran blanched, clearly thrown off balance.

  ‘Cowardly mindfoggers!’ exclaimed Kylen. ‘You can’t trick me either.’ Rastran’s eyes flicked nervously from one girl to the other.

  ‘Steady cousin,’ said Rastran, backing away and licking his lips nervously. ‘You know how much trouble you’ll get in for fighting. Your father will probably disown you this time.’

  This caused Zastra to hesitate. Rastran was right and he knew it. She could not afford to get caught fighting again. He grinned, half in relief, half in mockery. Kylen stepped forward and landed a solid punch on his nose.

  ‘Ow!’ he yelped, holding his nose, which began to bleed.

  ‘I, however, won’t get into trouble,’ said the Sendoran girl, a fierce look on her face. ‘In Sendor, it is considered a worthy thing to stand up to bullies and cowards. There’ll be plenty more of that if you or your pathetic sidekick ever try and hurt my brother again.’

  Her fierceness was quite intimidating and Rastran staggered backwards, pinching his bleeding nose. Mercan tugged at his arm, and they turned and headed back towards the castle. ‘Y-you’ll pay – you’ll see!’ Rastran stammered over his shoulder as they slunk away.

  As the youths left, Kylen went over to her brother to see if he was hurt. As she brushed him down affectionately, he sniffled and turned away in shame for his tears.

  ‘I’m sorry about your mother,’ said Zastra, hesitantly.

  ‘It was a few years ago now. She died of a fever. Zax was very small and he still gets upset about it,’ said Kylen turning away. She stared into the distance for a while. Then she turned to Zastra.

  ‘Why did you let him taunt you like that? Why didn’t you stand up to him?’

  Scorn glittered in the blue eyes of the Sendoran girl. ‘I promised…’ Zastra began, but stopped, unable to find the words to explain the situation in Golmeira. Indeed, she was rather confused about the whole thing herself, except for the fact that she had promised her mother she would not fight her cousin.

  ‘You and your father are as pathetic as each other! My father says that Leodra is too weak to lead and won’t make a decision.’

  ‘How dare you talk about my father like that!’ Zastra was outraged.

  ‘Why, what are you going to do about it?’ said Kylen with a look of challenge. As Zastra hesitated, Kylen spat on the ground. ‘Come, Zax, we’d better go. Father will be expecting us. It seems that Golmeira is full of cowards after all.’

  ‘I’m not a coward!’ cried Zastra, stung by the accusation.

  ‘Seems it to me,’ said Kylen.

  ‘I’m just not a Sendoran savage!’ shouted Zastra, trying to find an insult to match the one Kylen had thrown at her.

  ‘Come on, Zax,’ said Kylen, contemptuously, turning her back and marching away.

  Zastra watched them as they walked off. She was already regretting calling Kylen a savage, but she had never before been called a coward. Indeed, she rather prided herself on her daring. Wasn’t she always willing to try anything first? Like that time in science class that the teacher asked for a volunteer to pick up the scorpion. The class had looked to Zastra, and she had not disappointed, slimy and disgusting though the insect was. She wasn’t scared of Rastran, not in the least, or Kylen either, although the girl could best her in a hand fight. What was it Anara had said? “Sometimes it’s braver not to fight.” Zastra was starting to understand what that meant. The midday gong interrupted her thoughts and she hurried back to the castle for lunch. Her stomach was growling with hunger. She was keen to entertain Bedrun with the story of Rastran’s bloody nose. She chuckled to herself as she recalled his startled expression as Kylen had hit him. She went via the castle stables, stopped briefly to make a fuss of one of her favourite horses before entering the kitchens via a back passage. Her mood was dampened by the sight of Jannal, waiting for her with a frown on his face.

  ‘Zastra, your father wishes to see you immediately,’ he said in a serious tone. Obediently, she followed Jannal
to her father’s offices. She was thrust in front of a row of tall figures: Leodra, Thorlberd, Mendoraz and Martek all stared down at her, not a smile among them. Also present was Rastran, holding a scrumpled bandage to his nose. She saw him peer out at her from under his dark fringe, secretly pleased about something.

  ‘Leave us, Jannal,’ her father said with barely suppressed anger. Jannal departed obediently and Zastra felt a sudden rush of concern. What could be wrong? Had her father somehow found out about the cintara incident? She shuffled nervously from one foot to the other.

  ‘Now, Zastra,’ continued Leodra. ‘Rastran tells us that you assaulted him in the combat ranges and he has the wounds to prove it. I expressly told you that I do not wish to have my daughter fighting like a common peasant. It shows a lack of decorum and no respect for our honoured guests. Do you have anything to say?’

  Zastra’s jaw dropped in astonishment and she looked at Rastran, who avoided her gaze. His dishonesty shocked and disgusted her. She wished to defend herself from the unjust charge, but she hesitated, remembering Anara’s words about the need for a peaceful agreement with Sendor. Her uncle already disliked the Sendorans – if she told the truth, Thorlberd might be so angry with Kylen that he would block any treaty. Also, despite their differences, she was beginning to like the fair-haired girl, and did not want to tell tales. She could lie, which was against all she had been taught and believed as right, or to tell the truth, which would get Kylen in trouble and probably ruin any agreement with Sendor. Neither seemed a good choice, so she said nothing.

  ‘Well?’ demanded her father, raising his voice in frustration. ‘Will you not even answer me?’

  Zastra swallowed, but held her silence, filled with growing dread.

  Mendoraz broke in. ‘It was probably just children playing about. You know how they can be. My two are always scuffling about somewhere, knocking each other on the head and whatnot. Does them good, in my opinion. Toughens them up. It might do the lad some good.’ He cast a rather contemptuous look at the still snivelling Rastran.