Shadow Lands Trilogy

by Simon Lister

  Once out of the rain they took their cloaks off and shook the water from them. They looked at each other in silence. Ethain ran his hand over the carved marble boughs in wonder and stared in puzzlement as he felt the warmer air from the vents.

  ‘Have you seen this place before, Arthur?’ Ceinwen asked.

  ‘No. Merdynn led me by a different way. This is the first time I’ve seen this.’

  ‘It’s wonderful, just wonderful. How do they build in stone like this? How do they carve it?’

  Arthur had no answer for her.

  ‘Perhaps you can ask,’ Morgund said and nodded towards a small group who were walking across the wet grass carrying platters of fruit and bread.

  Arthur stared at the young woman leading the group. She was beautiful. She wore a flowing black dress drawn in at the waist by a simple cord. Over her shoulders was a cape of dark green, clasped around her throat by a light silver chain. The blackness of her dress contrasted starkly with her flawless ivory skin. A thin leather cord circled her throat and a clear-cut jewel glittered from the centre. Her eyes were green, a shade darker than her cape, and they smiled at Arthur as she stopped before him.

  ‘Welcome back to the Winter Wood, Arthur of the Britons. And welcome to your companions too.’

  Arthur stared at her, lost for any reply. A smile played on her lips and her eyes danced in amusement.

  ‘Do you not remember me, Lord?’

  ‘Seren? Fin Seren? But...’ he said as it dawned on him who she must be.

  She turned to her attendants and said playfully, ‘It seems the years have clouded Lord Arthur’s memory, or perhaps he’s aghast at how Lord Venning’s young daughter, who last brought him food in the Veiled City, has grown so ill.’

  ‘It’s just that you’ve...’

  ‘Changed?’

  ‘Indeed.’

  ‘It would be a sad world where children remained children, would it not?’

  ‘It would indeed have been a sadder world were you to have stayed a child.’

  Seren smiled and keeping her eyes on Arthur half turned to her attendants once more saying, ‘Lord Arthur has regained his gallantry, do you think he will soon introduce us to his companions?’

  Arthur tore his eyes away from her and indicated the others as he introduced them. She smiled at them as she greeted them and laid the platter she was carrying on the trestle. Her attendants followed, setting down flagons of wine and clear, cool water then they lit a small fire in a hearth on the floor. She dismissed those that had come with her and she helped herself to a cup of wine as the others started on the food arrayed before them. She engaged Ceinwen, Morgund and Ethain in conversation about their homes and the outside world, occasionally turning her smiling green eyes to Arthur who gazed at her, still trying to equate the young child he had met on his previous visits with the woman before him now. Gradually she put the others at ease and when they had eaten all that they wished too, Seren turned to Arthur and said, ‘Would you care to see the rest of our poor Winter Garden before you rest?’

  ‘The garden is an amazement, certainly not poor,’ Arthur replied standing up and offering his hand to Seren. She took it and she linked her arm through his as they walked out of the bower. As they left Ceinwen heard her say, ‘Then Arthur you should see it in mid-winter when the trees hold the snow and ice holds the fountains. When the marble is lit by only the deep winter stars or when the cold full moon shines on the frosted grass and is reflected in the frozen streams...’

  Their voices dwindled in the rain as they moved out of earshot.

  ‘I never thought such a place could exist!’ Ethain said, still wide-eyed and staring around himself.

  ‘Yet we aren’t invited into the City itself,’ Morgund remarked as he lay back on the soft mattress.

  Ceinwen sat there silently while Ethain and Morgund discussed the strange Cithol, Ethain’s wonder and enthusiasm the perfect foil for Morgund’s uncharacteristic wariness. Ceinwen hugged her knees to her chest, watching Arthur and Seren as they disappeared in the twilight and rain.

  Silent lightning still flashed across the low clouds casting the surrounding forest in brilliant light for the briefest of moments. The rain had eased to the point where it was almost no more than a mist seemingly suspended in the still air of the forest and the only noise was the water settling through the trees to join the rivulets now coursing throughout the woodland.

  Arthur could feel Seren’s warmth next to him as they walked arm in arm. She drew her cape around her to keep the rain off but left the hood back. She tilted her head back and laughed as the rain ran down her face and through her long, purely white hair.

  ‘I so rarely feel the rain, I forget the simple pleasure it affords.’

  Arthur, who was soaked through, just smiled down at her as he watched the rain trace lines across her face. His concerns for the world beyond the Winter Garden seemed to slip away unnoticed in that moment. The image of her face turned to the sky with the rain gently spilling down her neck and throat burned itself on his memory.

  ‘You don’t agree, do you Lord?’

  ‘It loses its appeal quickly, but I’ve never seen it so beautiful as now. And I am no Lord, for you’re the one of noble blood not I.’

  ‘Is that so?’ Seren asked and smiled. They began walking again and Arthur yearned for the moment past. Seren started to point out and name the variety of flowers and plants along the path, some of which Arthur had never seen before. In a quiet moment Arthur asked, ‘Why would the High Lord Venning’s daughter carry food out to wayfarers when the same wayfarers are not permitted entry to the Veiled City?’

  Seren stopped and looked down at the path abashed. Arthur felt an overwhelming impulse to hold her in his arms.

  ‘It’s Lord Venning’s decree that none but our own should ever enter the City,’ she replied still looking down, then lifting her eyes she added, ‘I’m sure he will admit you all once he arrives with Brunroth the Traveller and if the guests cannot come to us then I shall go to them.’

  They looked briefly into each other’s eyes then Arthur began walking again.

  ‘Is the ‘Traveller’ Merdynn?’ he asked.

  Seren stepped after him and linked arms once more.

  ‘Yes, Merdynn as your people call him for he has many names, most of them lost to time. He has visited us many times over the years – always bearing news of the outside, and patiently answering my questions and telling me tales of the man who sometimes accompanied him – the wild Warlord of the barbaric Britons.’ Seren laughed as Arthur raised an eyebrow at the description of himself.

  They passed one of the fountains carved to resemble horses galloping across a stream, the water cascading up from their splashing hooves. Seren trailed a hand across the smooth stone and resumed in a quieter, more self-conscious tone, ‘At first my questions were those of a child, but they changed as the years passed. Now I know all you have done, as you know it yourself. And the years passed, one after another and each time the Traveller came to us I looked for you. Yet your visits became less frequent and then stopped altogether.’

  ‘Lord Venning banned me from ever entering the Winter Wood again. It is his realm and it was his wish.’

  ‘Had he?’ Seren asked in surprise and looked long at Arthur as if studying his answer. ‘It’s true what Merdynn told me, your heart cannot be read. I can sense the others but not you. Strange that the only wayfarer to visit the Veiled City is the one whose heart I cannot read. Strange that it should be you, Arthur.’

  ‘And your peoples’ hearts are all closed to my sight,’ Arthur replied glancing at the girl by his side whom he had felt an unreasoned and irresistible attraction towards the moment he had seen her approaching the stone bower.

  Seren stopped once more and faced Arthur, ‘Unread perhaps, but not necessarily closed to you.’

  Arthur stared into her dark green eyes, which looked uncertain for the first time. He drew her closer and she put both hands on his chest. Arthur lightl
y brushed his fingertips across the raindrops on her forehead and cupped the back of her neck. She raised herself onto her toes and, after a moment’s hesitation, they slowly kissed in the twilight and rain of the Winter Garden.

  *

  Merdynn found Arthur several hours later, asleep in a covered bower under one of the cedar trees. He coughed loudly and said, ‘I see you’ve decided to sleep away from your companions. I’ve been sent to bring you and the others into the City. They’re still sleeping. I’ll, ah, wait for you over there,’ he pointed off with his staff, hesitated and then decided to walk off in that direction.

  Arthur could still feel Seren’s warmth in the bed next to him and her fresh scent was still on the pillow by his head. Sitting up he looked across at the dome in the centre of the square and thought he caught a glimpse of a green cape as someone disappeared inside. Smiling he got up, dressed and joined Merdynn as he made his way to the others.

  ‘Ceinwen snoring again was she?’ Merdynn asked, looking straight ahead and carefully avoiding any insinuation in his voice.

  Arthur couldn’t think of an appropriate reply so made none.

  ‘Thought so. Terrible thing that,’ Merdynn added.

  The rain had stopped and the sky above the square was a clear, pale blue, still lit by the sun that had finally sunk below the eastern horizon surrendering Middangeard to the dark winter.

  The others were already stirring when they got there. None of them were surprised to see that Arthur had already packed his bedroll and that he had been off talking with Merdynn.

  As they made their way to the dome Ceinwen gave him an inquisitive sidelong look, ‘You were talking with Seren for some time,’ she said casually.

  ‘We had much to say to one another,’ Arthur replied.

  They entered the dome in silence and Merdynn led them down a wide, spiralling set of stone steps.

  As they descended the light grew dimmer but it was not until the domed entrance was high above them that they realised that light was emanating from crystals set at regular intervals along the walls. Morgund stopped by one, his face softly lit as he studied it.

  ‘One of the many marvels and mysteries of the Veiled City. Come, the Cithol Lord and his Commander await us,’ Merdynn said and led on down the stairs. Ethain made a sign to ward off evil and followed the others.

  ‘We are safe here, Merdynn, aren’t we?’ Ceinwen asked, the memory of childhood fables coming back to her.

  ‘You’re safe if you’ve come this far, for only the invited see what you have seen.’

  The steps finally ended and opened up onto a low ceilinged hall, lit by the same large crystals they had seen along the stairway. The floor was carpeted with dry pine needles and the sides and ceiling of the hall looked to be made from the same smooth stone that they had seen outside but the dim light made it hard to tell for certain. Narrow corridors radiated out from the hall like spokes from a wheel.

  Merdynn led on confidently down one of the corridors. Some of the Cithol who passed them greeted Merdynn but all stopped and stared at the strangers with him. Most had never seen people from outside and they looked warily at the intruders, studying their strange apparel and fascinated by their rough, sun-creased faces and dark hair.

  The Cithol, like the people of Middangeard, ranged in skin tone from pale white to dark black yet they all had the same smooth, translucent skin quality, pool-like eyes and pure white hair that they had seen in Lord Venning and in those who had brought the food to them earlier.

  At length the corridor widened and opened up onto a large hall. Broad, carved pillars rose in ranks to an unseen ceiling. It was a great feasting hall and low tables were set in lines running the length of the hall. The hall was so long and so dimly lit they could barely see the far end. The hall was busy with Cithol who stopped and stared as the strangers made their way to the far end.

  ‘It’s all a bit dark isn’t it?’ Morgund asked.

  ‘Not to the Cithol,’ Merdynn replied.

  After a while they could make out the far end. Wide stone steps arced out in a semi circle and led up to a raised area.

  ‘Gods,’ Ceinwen whispered in awe. Ethain stopped in his tracks and Morgund drew in breath sharply. Before them, although still a good hundred yards away, they could see that the raised area was carved out of solid rock to resemble a forest. Trees towered from their carved roots on the floor straight up to the ceiling where they were lost from sight. Their branches seemed to meld into one another and looked as if they were growing into and out from the smooth rock that faced the three sides of the raised area. The scale was overpowering for them and they stopped and stared. Arthur remembered how daunting he had found it on his previous visit and even Merdynn looked at it anew through the eyes of his companions.

  Morgund swore under his breath and Ethain nodded his head in agreement.

  ‘How could... how long did...?’ Ceinwen could not even decide which question to ask first.

  Merdynn led on and they advanced towards the stone forest, staring ahead as the detail became more distinct. As they neared the end of the hall they heard strains of music from instruments that were entirely unfamiliar to them. Ceinwen was slowly shaking her head in disbelief. Morgund believed the whole effect was designed to rob them of their senses and to make them feel insignificant in the presence of those who could create such a stage but he was wrong. The Cithol admitted very few to this hall and they had carved out the stone forest purely for their own delight.

  Ceinwen looked around her for the source of the music that seemed to surround them. She saw a small group of Cithol to one side of the broad hall, sitting in a circle and facing each other. She paused, trying to see what instruments they were playing but the gloom of the hall made it difficult. It seemed to her to be a blend of soft breathing pipes, stringed instruments whose notes soared beyond the range of her hearing and voices chanting a cadence in a language that seemed both alien and perfectly suited to the variants in the repetitious refrains. She felt uplifted and drawn towards the living force of the circular rhythms and found herself taking a step to one side away from her companions. She felt her heart rate slow to match the music’s gentle tempo and she closed her eyes as the serene harmonies enveloped her. Merdynn gently took her arm and guided her back. She followed but could not turn her gaze away from the musicians.

  They walked up the wide steps that led to the raised dais where a large stone table was set. There was a single throne fashioned from marble, high-backed and inlaid with precious stones where Lord Venning sat watching them with one long fingered hand covering his lips. Next to him and on his left sat Fin Seren and Captain Terrill. To the right of Lord Venning sat the Commander who Captain Terrill reported to and who was ultimately responsible for both the city’s security and for guarding the borders of the Winter Wood. His pale white skin seemed even more anaemic than the other Cithol, almost albino and his eyes were a pinkish red but he was broad across the shoulders and although shorter than most of the Cithol they had seen so far he looked more powerful. He may have lacked the elegance and poise of those he sat with but there was no denying the presence or authority of Commander Kane.

  Lord Venning’s wife, Inis, was next to the Commander and she stood as they reached the table, ‘Welcome to the Veiled City. Our visitors are too few. Brunroth we know of old, the warlord Arthur we have met before yet there are three more come from the outside.’

  Arthur introduced them and Inis greeted each in turn and then addressed them, ‘Lord Venning you have perhaps already seen since he has just returned from your land. Terrill, Captain of the Cithol and guardian of the Winter Wood, you have already met. The Commander here is responsible for the City’s security. And this is our daughter, Fin Seren – perhaps you remember her, Arthur?’

  Arthur finally allowed himself to look directly at Seren and returned her smile, ‘I remember her well my Lady, though she has grown even more beautiful than when I last saw her.’

  Ceinwen glanced at Morgund
who continued to look straight ahead, mesmerised by actually being in the Veiled City and before the High Cithol. Inis smiled at Arthur’s reply. The Cithol who had been simply introduced to them as the Commander sat perfectly still and stared into Arthur’s gray eyes with a steady concentration. The visitors felt their attention inescapably drawn to him and only Merdynn was able to look away. Power seemed to radiate from the Commander’s intensity and the others felt themselves inching back in their chairs feeling that somehow their thoughts and hearts were being searched.

  Arthur returned his look unperturbed and with a slight smile playing on the corners of his lips. A flash of irritation crossed Kane’s face and a deep frown momentarily creased his forehead before being quickly replaced by a look of mild curiosity. The sudden tension and alarm that Arthur’s companions felt vanished.

  ‘Please, sit and break your fast,’ Inis said and swept her hand over the table that was laid with various foods. Merdynn had watched the exchange between Commander Kane and Arthur and he ate his breakfast in thoughtful silence. Inis once again turned her attention to Arthur as Terrill engaged the others in conversation.

  ‘Our captain informs me you took exception to our storm.’

  ‘My Lady?’

  ‘Please, simply call me Inis. He claims he came across you as you railed against the storm.’

  ‘Ah, yes, that’s true,’ Arthur could feel Seren smiling at him and he was finding it difficult not to look towards her.

  ‘Do you take issue with all storms, or just ours perhaps?’

  ‘It was more a feeling inside rather than the storm outside, Lady.’

  ‘And did the storm obey you, Arthur?’ Commander Kane asked, still studying him.

  ‘So it seems. It passed.’

  Seren laughed softly giving Arthur the excuse he wanted to turn his eyes towards her.

  ‘As all storms tend to,’ Inis added dryly.

  When they had finished the breakfast Inis suggested that Seren show their guests the Summer Lake and she agreed eagerly before realising Arthur was to stay at the table.