Shadow Lands Trilogy

by Simon Lister

  The lake stretched into the distance and on each side stone houses and narrow paths climbed the shores. It was as if a whole valley settlement had been entombed underground and Arthur marvelled at the sight. The lake itself was impenetrably dark and completely still. It seemed to swallow the light shed down from the cavern roof and begrudge any reflections. Something about the City struck Arthur as dead, as if a settlement had indeed been buried here.

  Seren pointed out a group of grand buildings along one side of the lake. It was the Palace of the Cithol Lord and his wife, her parents. They crossed the bridge and made their way along the lakeshore. The path was worn smooth by endless usage and the surface of the stone seemed polished by the passing of the centuries. Occasionally they would cross small bridges over rills and streams that cut their way down to the lake between the terraced dwellings.

  Suddenly Arthur realised what was missing and he turned to Seren, ‘There are no fires here. No smoke coming from any of the buildings.’

  Seren smiled up at him, ‘No, there’s no need for fires in our homes. It’s perfectly warm down here at the Summer Lake so there’s no need for fires to heat the homes and we all eat in the Great Hall.’ She laughed as he frowned, ‘Underneath the Great Hall are the kitchens – that’s where the fires are for cooking.’

  ‘So you all eat together, in the same place and at the same time, always?’

  ‘Yes. Well, not necessarily at the same time but always in the same place. Does that strike you as strange?’

  ‘We eat together at festivals and we share the same cooking pot in winter sometimes. In the war band we often eat together but in the villages usually each family cook and eat by themselves.’

  ‘How strange. For us it’s a time for everyone to be together and share in our tales, our lore, our ballads.’

  Arthur felt that the peoples outside the Veiled City did not have that kind of time available to them but he left the thought unsaid and they climbed the steps up into the Palace of Lord Venning.

  Captain Terrill was waiting for them at the top of the steps and opened the wide doors that led into a courtyard where a small fountain played in the centre of a dark pool that was fed by a channelled rill coursing through the Palace grounds. The soft rushing of the running water filled the courtyard with a sound that reminded Arthur of the rustling of leaves in a light wind. That was something else missing from this vast cavern he thought, trees.

  Terrill left to make Lord Venning aware of Arthur’s arrival. Seren leant closer to Arthur and placed a hand below his throat where the Elk Stone she had given him should still be hanging.

  ‘I gave it to my sister – she was going into graver peril than I,’ Arthur explained.

  Seren nodded in relieved approval and looked as if she was going to say something and Arthur looked down at her enquiringly but with a light brush on his arm and a quick smile she dashed off to one side of the courtyard and disappeared through one of the many doors that opened out into the courtyard.

  Arthur watched her go, wondering what she had been about to say. He tried to recall what Ceinwen had said at their parting, something about the Cithol not appearing to be all they seemed or wished to appear. He wondered if the same applied to him.

  He was alone now and walked slowly to the fountain and for a moment Arthur felt uneasy. He could not read these people and they could not read him but it was more than that. This was an alien world to him. No sunshine, no moonlight, no winter and no summer. There were no trees in the Veiled City, only the splendid carvings in the Great Hall, no birds, indeed no animals at all.

  He crossed to the low wall and looked out on the lake and the far shore. No darkness either. The bright crystals set high above in the cavern roof provided light whether it was summer or winter in the world outside. The Cithol themselves, with their pale almost translucent skin and pool-like eyes, seemingly without iris or pupil, were almost as unlike Arthur’s people as were the Adren. Indeed more so. They seemed a race apart.

  He had felt the looks the Cithol had given him whenever he had passed them and had seen their curiosity give way to a mixture of revulsion, at what was different, and fear, the fear of something unknown. They were certainly a knowledgeable people and their works and craft, evidenced by this City, far outshone anything done in Wessex or elsewhere in Britain. Arthur’s thoughts meandered as he stared out over the black lake; perhaps they viewed his people as uncivilised, lawless and dangerously warlike. Perhaps they felt themselves above such matters as conflict. The Adren will claw them down, he thought, and make short work of their Veiled City if they get across the Causeway. He knew now that the Adren wanted the power that resided somewhere below this cavern. They wanted the power to grow the food to feed their armies; the power to live and harvest whether it was summer or winter. They wanted a city to mirror their own. One in the East and one in the West and everything in between under their sway. Arthur wondered if the Cithol understood that the only thing standing in the Adren’s way were his uncivilised and dangerously warlike people.

  A gate opened onto the courtyard and Arthur turned to see Lord Venning’s wife, Inis, approaching.

  ‘Greetings, Arthur. Lord Venning awaits you.’

  She led the way deeper into the Palace along narrow stone hallways. The walls were draped in woven fabrics depicting scenes that Arthur could barely make out in the gloom and those which he could discern he did not comprehend. They entered a long room with unshuttered windows stretching down one side overlooking the Summer Lake. A table made from delicately carved, heavy wood ran the length of the room and Arthur guessed that this must be the Cithol Council room.

  Although there were more than twenty people seated at the far end of the table, it seemed to Arthur to be able to seat twice that number and he wondered briefly if there used to be more in the council and why it should be so depleted now. Inis indicated a chair for him and then she joined Lord Venning at the end of the table. Arthur unslung his heavy winter cloak and sat down, looking at the faces lined along the table between him and the Cithol Lord. They were studying him in silence. Arthur recognised Captain Terrill, who nodded in greeting, and then his eyes settled on Fin Seren who alone among the Cithol smiled at him.

  ‘You have returned earlier than we expected, Arthur of Wessex, and without Brunroth, or Merdynn as your people call him,’ Lord Venning said and Arthur felt his black eyes and the eyes of the others seeking to find a way inside his thoughts.

  He shrugged aside their combined will and once again began to relate the events of the journey into the Shadow Lands. He stopped at the point where Merdynn had gone east with Cei and looked at Lord Venning.

  ‘All at this table can be trusted with whatever truth you have to tell, Arthur,’ Lord Venning pronounced.

  Arthur searched the Cithol faces before him and his eyes fell upon those of Commander Kane and again he hesitated. Those around the table stirred in anger and impatience.

  ‘This is the council of the Cithol, Arthur, your news concerns all of us here,’ Terrill explained.

  Arthur shrugged and continued. The Cithol listened intently to the purpose of Merdynn’s journey into the East. Lord Venning and the gathered council kept their peace as Arthur’s voice filled the room. He looked at no one as he spoke, instead he stared out through one of the open windows with a distant look as he recalled and relived the events in the Shadow Lands.

  When he had finished the Cithol were silent, looking at each other and avoiding Arthur. Finally Lord Venning broke the silence.

  ‘You sent Brunroth, with less than twenty warriors, into the heart of the Shadow Lands? To destroy the Adren City in the East?’

  Arthur stared at Lord Venning, one eyebrow slightly raised, questioning the tone that Lord Venning took. ‘Merdynn is no one’s man to send anywhere. He goes nowhere against his will or judgement.’

  ‘And yet he has gone to the heart of the enemy and you didn’t stop him and you didn’t travel with him?’

  Arthur turned his gaze
to the Commander who had spoken in the same tone as Lord Venning had.

  ‘Yes,’ Arthur replied.

  ‘But why, Arthur? Surely it is a fool’s mission?’ Terrill looked at Arthur disbelievingly.

  Arthur sighed and putting both hands on the table stood up, the chair scraping loudly against the stone floor as he pushed it backwards. All the Cithol were staring at him. He crossed to the open window and looked across at the houses that climbed the far shore. The Cithol exchanged looks with each other, perturbed by this strange and disrespectful behaviour at a council meeting.

  ‘How many of you live here?’ Arthur asked, still staring out over the lake.

  ‘What?’ Commander Kane said sharply.

  ‘I said, how many of you live here?’

  ‘And what has that to do with what we discuss?’ he replied.

  Arthur’s response shocked everyone there, including Fin Seren who was already concerned at the turn the meeting was taking. He spun swiftly from the window and strode back to the table, planting both fists on it as he leant over them.

  ‘I’ll tell you why. Four thousand, five thousand here? Well?’

  Terrill nodded, the others were too surprised that Arthur dare raise his voice and take this cold tone with them.

  ‘And how many of you are warriors? How many can fight?’

  The table was silent.

  ‘I asked you how many!’ Arthur roared, spittle flying from his lips.

  ‘We have, perhaps a hundred guards, hunters,’ Terrill replied.

  ‘Did you not hear me when I told you how many Adren lie waiting to attack this Isle?’

  Again the room was silent.

  ‘Did you not hear me?’ Arthur roared once again.

  ‘We are not your warriors or your people, how dare you to speak to us like this!’ Lord Venning shouted back as he rose to his feet.

  Arthur walked slowly toward him. The Cithol around the table were appalled by the simmering violence emanating from the outsider.

  ‘No, you aren’t in my war band, and no, you aren’t my people. My war band have fought already, have died already to protect this land where you live. My people will continue to fight and die too.’ Arthur stopped directly in front of Lord Venning and continued, ‘That’s how I dare. There are more Adren soldiers across the Causeway than all your people and mine combined. Have you begun training for war? Will you meet them in battle? We have a fraction of their number and we’ll stand against them to protect this land. Will you do the same? All this craft and magnificence here, can you use it to defend yourselves if the Adren break through us?

  ‘Merdynn and people I’ve known all my life, people I’m proud of, have risked everything in an attempt to destroy what it is that keeps the Adren army moving. If they don’t succeed then what do you think our chances of survival are against those Adren armies? Merdynn and the others have set out to do what must be done. They risk everything, for that’s what’s at stake here: everything. What, exactly, have your people risked so far? What do you propose to do, Lord Venning?’

  Lord Venning stared at Arthur and everyone else watched the two of them.

  ‘Perhaps you are not the one. Perhaps we have chosen ill,’ Commander Kane said quietly.

  Arthur turned to him, ‘You haven’t chosen anyone and whether or not I’m ‘the one’, I’m the only one doing what must be done to defend this Isle and if you want me to help defend this City too then you’d best start considering how you can help me.’

  Arthur crossed the room and picked up his winter cloak. As he left the stunned room he turned and said, ‘I shall return here when the sun rises once more. You have much to discuss and much to decide.’

  Arthur strode back towards the Great Hall in a black rage, ignoring those he met on the paths and passages all of whom quickly got out of his way. Terrill and Seren finally caught up with him as he entered the Great Hall.

  ‘Arthur! Wait!’ Seren called out and he turned and stopped.

  Seren was clearly upset and her lip trembled as she faced Arthur but there was anger in her green eyes too. Terrill stood uneasily by her side.

  ‘Why?’ she asked.

  Arthur breathed deeply to control his anger. ‘Because you need to realise the strength of the storm about to break upon you.’

  ‘But you hold the Causeway,’ Terrill said.

  ‘Over twenty thousand Adren lie on the far side. How many to hold the Causeway? One hundred? Two?’ Arthur replied.

  ‘You don’t think you can hold the Causeway?’ Seren asked. Anxiety had swiftly replaced her anger.

  ‘That’s not what I’m saying. I’m saying you should think as if I can’t.’

  ‘We need to plan for a defence of the Veiled City and you want us to somehow help defend the Causeway?’ Terrill asked.

  ‘It’s what you’ve been telling Kane and my father all winter,’ Seren said talking to Terrill.

  ‘Then why haven’t they done something? They must realise how finely balanced our fates are?’ Arthur asked.

  They were quiet for a moment then Seren replied, ‘Lord Venning thought Brunroth would have a plan to secure the Veiled City. He thought you and your people would hold the Causeway forever.’

  ‘Merdynn has gone into the East to try to secure this City and I plan to hold the Causeway long enough for him to succeed but if I were Lord Venning I’d do three things: Organise help for the defence of the Causeway, plan a defence for this City and have a plan for abandoning the Winter Wood.’

  They both looked shocked.

  ‘Leave here?’ Terrill said aghast at the prospect.

  ‘Never. Lord Venning would never leave here. None of us would. We’ve been here since the beginning. Only here can we keep the winter and darkness at bay,’ Seren said taking a step back from Arthur.

  ‘Then you’d better make the first two plans very good,’ he replied.

  ‘I’ll speak with him and the council. They have to see that hiding will not keep the Adren away,’ Terrill said.

  ‘Very well. I’ll return with the sun and we’ll see if there’s a way to do together what we may not be able to do alone.’ Arthur stretched out his hand. Captain Terrill shook it then turned and left.

  Arthur and Seren made their way across the Great Hall and back up to the Winter Garden.

  ‘Don’t be angry with me, Arthur, not at parting.’

  Arthur sighed before saying, ‘I’m not angry at you Seren. I’m angry with the Cithol Council because they endanger you and all your people. If the Adren break across the Causeway they will head here. This City holds what they want and yet nothing has been done to safeguard it. People are already dying and still they do nothing. If they wait any longer then it will be too late and if we fail then the Adren will be hacking their way through the shores of the Summer Lake.’

  Seren led Arthur once again back down the twisting path through the Winter Wood. Arthur commented again on the numerous side paths that branched off the main one, some seemingly wider and more frequently trod.

  ‘Terrill believes that any attackers would find it impossible to penetrate the woods against our will,’ Seren said.

  Arthur had his doubts but kept them to himself and Seren gradually turned the conversation to lighter matters. They talked of the Winter Garden and the plans that Seren had for improving it as they unhurriedly walked towards the open fields below the grove on the hill. When they reached the end of the path they embraced once more and said their farewells. Seren felt a moment of undecided panic as Arthur turned and walked away from her. She had resolved to tell him at parting but that was before the disaster of the council meeting. Now she was unsure.

  Arthur had begun the climb back up to his camp and Seren felt her panic rising again.

  ‘Arthur! Wait!’ she called out to him.

  Arthur turned to meet her as she dashed towards him. As they met and Arthur smiled at her enquiringly she hesitated then said, ‘You will return, Arthur?’

  ‘Yes, after I’ve been to Whit
ehorse Hill and Caer Sulis. First I must see what my own king has done in preparing for war.’

  ‘But you will return to me?’

  ‘Of course.’

  She watched him go with both hands clasped below her stomach as if to conceal the child that was growing inside her.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Arthur could see Whitehorse Hill from some miles away as his company slowly climbed the Ridgeway from the East on the final leg of their long journey from the grove above the Winter Wood. The hill fort was lit by fires that burned brightly in the long winter night and the flames reflected in dark reds on the low cloud that spread over the cold country, stretching away to each horizon.

  Riders came out to meet them and news was quickly exchanged. As they entered the East Gate Arthur noted with approval that the ditch around the hill fort had been deepened and a new, low wall now circled the entire fort so that any attacker would have to face the slope, the new wall, then the deep ditch and finally the steep climb up to the fort’s main wall. The gates too looked as if they had been strengthened.

  Laethrig’s apprentices had been hard at work inside the camp too. Forges billowed gouts of flame as iron was beaten into weapons of war. Arthur decided to inspect the work later and ordered the horses to be stabled. They all went to the main hall and his forty warriors began eating hungrily, meals on their two hundred mile journey had been few and hurriedly taken. Those who had remained at the Wessex base avidly listened to the tales from the East and the reports of battle with the Adren. The wine flowed freely and before long the warriors were drunkenly seeking their beds. They had not slept during the long journey from the grove.