Dream Finder cohs-1

by Roger Taylor

  He leaned forward purposefully, but before he could continue, Ibris intervened. ‘Look in the mirror, Irfan,’ he said sharply. ‘When did you last have any sleep? And what drove you to your mother seeking a Dream Finder?'

  Menedrion's jaw jutted out angrily and, for a moment, it seemed almost that he was going to leap up and strike his father. Then he turned away abruptly, and slumped back morosely in his chair. It creaked in protest.

  'Have you ever known me to play foolish games, Irfan?’ Ibris said, his voice mildly conciliatory. ‘I can't pretend that I believe this business of the Threshold and strange worlds beyond where dead men can be alive again, but I'm satisfied that I was menaced in some way in my dream. And I've enough experience of Dream Finding to know that a Dream Finder can't be separated from the dreamer as you were. We don't need to know exactly what's happening to know that something's badly amiss. And I intend to take action to protect our flanks by using the only troops we have to hand for the job.'

  Menedrion looked up and the two men gazed at one another silently for some time, the one fatigued and afraid beneath his air of angry bluster, the other determined and concerned. Eventually Menedrion lowered his eyes.

  'Whatever you say, father,’ he said. ‘I'll own that I was frightened in that … dream. Wherever it was, it was as real as here.’ He slapped the arm of his chair. ‘And so was the threat that I felt. It was like no dream I've ever had. I don't know who protected me the first time, but he and the wolf saved me the second time.’ He indicated Antyr.

  Ibris looked openly relieved; a danger accepted was a danger that could be met. He turned to Antyr. ‘You must advise,’ he said, holding out his hand. ‘We can't go without sleep or our ordinary old-fashioned enemies in the here and now will defeat us.’ He was almost light-hearted.

  Antyr, finding himself suddenly the focus of attention, froze. Under other circumstances he might have expected a spine-straightening rebuke from Tarrian for such dithering, but the wolf was silent.

  The Duke nodded at him expectantly.

  Desperately, Antyr took refuge in the truth. ‘I don't know what to do, sire,’ he said, eventually. ‘I've no experience in such matters. Nor do I know anyone who has. I don't know what powers this … Mynedarion … or his guide have. What their intentions are … who they are … where they are … anything…'

  'Nonetheless,’ Ibris said, levelling a finger at him. ‘You must advise. Useless though you feel yourself to be, you're still the only one here who's made real contact with this enemy. Think! You'll find you've come away with more information than you've realized.'

  Antyr stared at him vacantly.

  Ibris leaned forward. ‘Firstly, you survived,’ he said simply. ‘You say this … creature … raised a great wind, darkened the sky with thunder and lightning. That's a power beyond anything that even our artillery machines, or Menedrion's great forges can achieve. But still you survived…'

  'Because he wanted me,’ Antyr interrupted, without thinking.

  Ibris nodded. ‘Further information,’ he said. ‘Which I'd forgotten myself. And also you thought that you noted a division in their ranks.'

  Antyr shrugged. ‘It was only a thought, sire. An impression,’ he said.

  Ibris cast a glance at Feranc, who smiled slightly. ‘Battles have been won and lost on far less than that, Antyr,’ he said. ‘That's one of the reasons why they should be avoided if at all possible. Too much rests on random chance.'

  Antyr opened his arms in a gesture of inadequacy.

  Ibris became more stern. ‘We cannot see a danger and do nothing,’ he said. ‘You are the only one who can help. Trust your judgement. Advise.'

  Antyr looked at Pandra and then at Tarrian and Grayle. The two wolves looked at him unblinkingly, but neither spoke. A pack thing, he thought grimly.

  There was a long silence.

  Then he looked squarely at Ibris. ‘You've never had a dream such as you had the other night, sire?’ he asked.

  'Never,’ Ibris replied.

  Antyr turned to Menedrion. ‘Nor I,’ Menedrion replied, before the question was asked.

  Antyr closed his eyes. He felt an abyss opening before him again.

  'We are guarded in all places by a great and ancient strength,’ he said resolutely and, releasing a long slow breath, he stepped into the darkness.

  Walking over to Menedrion, he stood over him and stared at him intently. Menedrion met his gaze unflinchingly, but with some suspicion.

  'You are Irfan Menedrion,’ Antyr said, his voice unexpectedly commanding. ‘Son of Serenstad's greatest Duke. A man who will be Duke himself, one day. A great leader of men in battle. Where you are, men rally, lines re-form, and enemies quail. A great warrior. No one opposes you willingly.’ He reached out and placed his extended forefinger in the middle of Menedrion's forehead. ‘Remember all this. Remember it as you would remember the battlefield earth, firm and solid, under your feet, supporting you faithfully as you swung your sword. Remember it as you would remember the weight of your lance, the movement of your horse. Remember. You are master of yourself. You cannot be moved if you do not wish it. Sleep with the sword that you've used before beside you; the one you can rely on. It will remind you of your power. Sleep brings you no threat. Dream in peace.'

  Menedrion made no movement as Antyr removed his hand, but all hostility had gone from his face.

  Antyr turned to the Duke and fixed him with the same, black-eyed gaze. ‘You understood these things well already, sire, although you did not realize it,’ he said. ‘Now you understand them more. Sleep brings you no threat. Dream in peace.'

  The room became very still and Antyr moved softly through the silence like drifting smoke.

  He looked at Estaan. ‘You are not of this land,’ he said. ‘You are tortured, but you have strange deep strengths from another place. Dream in peace.'

  Finally he came to Ciarll Feranc. He looked up into the Commander's enigmatic face for a long time.

  'And even deeper strengths yet,’ he said, finally, very softly. He bowed slowly. ‘Dream in peace.'

  Feranc bowed in reply.

  Antyr turned back to the Duke. ‘If Pandra is willing, he should accompany the Lord Menedrion, to watch over his dreams, sire. His Companion is a kindred spirit to the Lord. Very fierce.'

  Ibris glanced at the old Dream Finder, who nodded hesitantly.

  'Menedrion, take Pandra as part of your entourage,’ Ibris said. He gave Pandra an appraising look and added, ‘But he's no sapling. See that he's looked after properly. Comfortable wagon, comfortable quarters. You understand? And listen to him.'

  Menedrion looked warily at the old Dream Finder and then nodded. ‘I'm sure he'll be better company than that Bethlarii bigot with his damned preaching and his endless prayers,’ he said. ‘But who's going to pay for him? Aaken's already been complaining about the cost of this envoy and…'

  Ibris scowled. ‘We'll discuss that later, Irfan,’ he said sharply.

  Menedrion grunted suspiciously and then stood up. ‘Well, if there's nothing else to be decided for me,’ he said, somewhat caustically. ‘May I get back to my duties? There's still a lot to do if we're to leave tomorrow.'

  When he had left, Ibris stared at the door for a moment and then turned to Antyr. ‘For a man who minutes ago didn't know what to do, you seem peculiarly confident all of a sudden,’ he said.

  Antyr shrugged. ‘You're my Duke and Commander. Your order left me no choice. So I spoke the truth as I felt and as I spoke I realized that what I felt was the truth.'

  Ibris made to reply, but Antyr continued. ‘Besides,’ he said. ‘The … attackers … failed to reach you when you weren't even aware of them. Now that you are aware, your strength and control are magnified many times. Add to that the fact they've fled before Tarrian and me, twice already, my feeling is that they'll not be too anxious to return too quickly.'

  'But if they do, what of my son?’ Ibris asked.

  'I've no unequivocal answer for you, sire,’
Antyr replied. ‘But we're indeed protected in many strange ways. Someone, somehow, protected Lord Menedrion in his moment of need. Probably a close relative who might not even have known what he was doing. Someone accidentally sucked in by the disturbance in the Dream Ways. He, or she, probably thinks it was just a nightmare. But now your son has accepted his own fear and vulnerability, he too will be stronger by far. And should there be any assault on him, Pandra and Kany will waken him on the instant.'

  'But…’ the Duke said, catching a doubt in Antyr's tone.

  Antyr pulled a wry face. ‘But who they are. What they want. Why they want it…’ He shrugged. ‘All the questions that clouded my sight before, must still be answered sooner or later, because they will return eventually. There was a malevolence there that won't rest until it's…’ He paused as a grim image came to him suddenly. He voiced it hesitantly. ‘…until it's walked with relish through endless fields of our dead, calf-deep in blood and flesh.’ His eyes narrowed, then closed. Faintly, at the edge of his mind, the word formed. ‘Vengeance,’ he said softly. ‘A dark and ancient malice is seeking vengeance.'

  A deep stillness filled the room again. No one moved, no one spoke until a lamp spluttered noisily, and broke the spell.

  'And you, Antyr?’ Ibris said, clearing his throat. ‘What of you? Who will protect your nights?'

  'Tarrian and Grayle, and my own wits and awareness,’ Antyr replied. ‘And I shall have my sword and daggers sharpened, and carry them with me from now on in case I'm drawn away unawares.'

  'But still, questions, questions,’ Ibris said.

  'Yes, sire,’ Antyr agreed. ‘But all we can do now is wait for the night and sleep. We've done all that can be done here. Now, with respect, I think that you have more pressing problems with the Sened and the Bethlarii envoy.'

  Ibris stood up. ‘Indeed,’ he said. ‘A timely reminder.’ He glanced at a timepiece on the wall. ‘And I'll have to hurry. The Sened will be less than pleased if I drag them into an evening sitting.'

  Taking Antyr by the arm, he moved towards the door. Feranc fell in beside them. ‘You must keep me informed of anything untoward that occurs in this strange business,’ he said. ‘I've arranged for you to have access to me at all times, for that purpose-I know it's not a privilege you'll abuse. Likewise I must know where you are at all times. And go nowhere without Estaan. Do you understand? There are other, more prosaic forces than dream demons and Bethlarii who have little love for me, and to be of value to me is sometimes to attract unpleasant attention.'

  'Yes, sire,’ Antyr replied, opening the door to let the Duke and Feranc through. As he passed by, Feranc looked at him briefly, and gave a small, satisfied nod.

  'You've made an impression on the Commander,’ Estaan said, when Antyr had closed the door.

  'I've made an impression on myself,’ Antyr replied ruefully as he sat down again. ‘Ye gods, my legs are shaking. What possessed me to speak to the Duke and Menedrion like that? And now I'm involved in palace politics.'

  Tarrian and Grayle moved over to him and Tarrian sat down and leaned against him. He did not speak, but his satisfaction and approval filled Antyr's mind. He reached down and held both the wolves tight.

  As he did so, he looked up at Pandra, standing silent by the wall. Remorse struck him at the sight of the frail old man.

  'I'm sorry,’ he said. ‘If I've done you a bad service, perhaps I can still remedy it. I'm sure someone else can be found to guard Menedrion if you think it'll be too much.'

  The remark galvanized Pandra. ‘No, no,’ he protested. ‘This is splendid. I've spent my whole life pottering about through my craft always feeling that something, somewhere, was missing. Always half wondering whether I wasn't in fact just a charlatan myself. Now I'm walking by the side of a Master. The Threshold itself beckons. No, you did me no disservice.'

  Antyr's remorse did not recede. ‘They killed Nyriall, you know,’ he said. ‘Killed him.'

  'Killed him here,’ Pandra said. ‘But not there. There he was alive. Moving from world to world…'

  'Because they were hunting him,’ Antyr exclaimed.

  Pandra, however, was not to be deterred. ‘But he escaped,’ he declared. ‘Besides, he went there by accident. I may not be a Master, but if I'm drawn there inadvertently, at least I'll know what's happening. And I too shall be carrying my sword and daggers in future.'

  Antyr sighed and sat up. ‘Kany, what do you think of your Finder's enthusiasm?’ he asked.

  'Oh, nice of you to ask,’ came the instant, and peevish, reply. ‘Do feel free any time to volunteer us to wander about the Threshold tackling sinister Master Dream Finders and cracked Mynedarion dragging thunderstorms and legions of shadows in their wake. It's just what we need to while away the tedious hours of our retirement.'

  Antyr opened his mouth to reply, but Kany continued, gathering momentum.

  'And what do you mean by calling me a kindred spirit to that uncultured lout Menedrion?’ he went on. ‘That's very respectful of you.'

  'He'll get used to the idea,’ Pandra intervened reassuringly.

  'You're only guarding Menedrion,’ Antyr said by way of mitigation.

  'Make your mind up,’ the rabbit snapped. ‘Are you glad or sorry you talked us into this job?'

  Antyr made to reply again, but no wisdom came to guide him and he wilted before Kany's displeasure.

  'Take no notice,’ Pandra said. ‘You'd no choice but to do what you did, and I'm well pleased at the prospect. As is Kany, really. Though he's loath to admit it. Besides, I can't see that there's any danger in just guarding, but, to be blunt, if there is, I'd rather go with a flourish than a long sigh. Old age doesn't suit me.'

  'A long sigh suits me well enough,’ Kany muttered. ‘The desire for death or glory is one of many human traits that I consider myself fortunate not to understand.'

  Antyr decided to let the matter lie. Another matter occurred to him.

  'What about the Liktors who arrested us?’ he asked Estaan. ‘I'd forgotten about them. I should have mentioned it to the Duke.'

  Estaan shook his head. ‘I'm glad you didn't,’ he said with a smile. ‘I don't think he'd be too impressed by my care for your welfare if he heard we'd been arrested for assault and being involved in a suspicious death.'

  Antyr was not reassured. ‘Your friend vouching for you only got us Liktor bail, you know,’ he said. ‘We're technically under arrest.'

  Estaan laughed. ‘And rightly so too,’ he said. ‘What would you have done with two disreputable individuals found with a dead body and claiming to be there on the Duke's business?'

  'Well I suppose…’ Antyr began.

  'Don't worry,’ Estaan said dismissively, but sympathetically. ‘I'll sort it all out when I arrange for Nyriall's body to be collected. There'll be no problem.'

  The mention of Nyriall's body, however, brought dark thoughts back to Antyr. ‘I find it hard to imagine that he's still alive somewhere, right now, wandering through those sunlit fields, while at the same time he's lying cold and stiff in that poky little room.'

  'Do you think they'll still be hunting for him?’ The voice was Grayle's and it was fretful. Antyr reached down and stroked the wolf. ‘I don't think so, Grayle,’ he said. ‘I think that my intervention gave them more serious things to think about. Don't be too concerned. He was pleased at the prospect of a new start in a new world. He said he doubted he could have survived another fog-choked winter.'

  A wave of sadness passed over him. It was the wolf's, he knew.

  'He was sorry to part from you though,’ he went on. ‘Said he'd miss you a lot and that I was to thank you. He couldn't have had a finer Companion.'

  Grayle let out a little whine, and then lay down, resting his head on his forepaws. Antyr continued to stroke him.

  'I let him down at the end,’ Grayle said. ‘He slipped from me somehow. I don't know how. He was there, then he was gone. In an instant. Just gone.'

  Before Antyr could reply, there was an inter
ruption from Tarrian at a level beyond his awareness. He reached out to them tentatively, then withdrew, leaving the two brothers to their own discourse.

  'Well, I suppose the rest of the day's my own,’ he muttered ironically.

  Scarcely had he spoken, however, when the door opened and the Duke reappeared. ‘A thought just occurred to me, Antyr,’ he said. ‘I'd like you to watch the Bethlarii envoy's dreams tonight. Is that possible?'

  'Yes, sire,’ Antyr said with a slight shrug. ‘Providing he's nearby.'

  Ibris nodded. ‘I thought so,’ he said. ‘I'll arrange it.’ He looked at Antyr, stern again. ‘And, Antyr, this concerns the needs of the state. You owe this man no duty of confidentiality. I want to know whatever he dreams about. Does that present you with any difficulties?'

  Antyr recalled his protestations to the bodyguard when he had sought out the Duke the previous evening.

  'Yes, sire,’ he replied. ‘It does. It's contrary to all my teachings. But war gives me greater difficulties-far greater-and if I can give you information that might prevent one, then I'll do it.'

  Chapter 24

  Tarrian and Grayle walked some way ahead of Antyr and Estaan through the busy afternoon crowds. Grayle kept a fraction to the rear of his brother, but matched his stride exactly.

  Antyr looked up. The grey clouds had been lightening all day and were now breaking up to reveal a watery blue sky. Occasionally, bright waves of light from the low sun washed over the city, patterning the streets with long unsteady shadows and cutting golden chasms through the haze.

  The small procession had no goal at the end of this journey. Antyr had expressed a need to walk and think for a while and this was the consequence. Pandra had remained at the palace to rest a little and to luxuriate in the rooms and the new status that had been allotted to him.

  Both Antyr and Estaan, however, were now rapt in thought.

  Antyr was surprised at his own easy acquiescence with the Duke's suggestion-order-that he spy on the Bethlarii envoy's dreams. Dreamers allowed a Dream Finder access to their deepest and most private thoughts and however the craft might have declined over recent years, the respect for confidentiality was as strong as it had ever been, even gaining protection under Serenstad's law.