by S C Gowland
The sky had mirrored the water, and she hadn't seen the sun for several days, something else that had eaten into her positivity, but the prospect of different surroundings, regardless of how grey and bland they might appear was most welcome.
The town itself was pitiful, tall dark logs reached like dead fingers towards the sky forming a grim but effective looking outer wall, stopping abruptly when it reached a sheer cliff face.
The town itself sat unassumingly in a nest of rock, dark peaks disappearing into the murk of the morning. As the ship silently glided into the harbour, the town began to reveal itself, slowly unwrapping before her eyes.
Buildings along the edge of the town were nothing special, but they did contain windows and glass, she bounced on her tiptoes as she looked. Who would have thought that windows could bring such a reaction?
A bell clanked absently in the distance, adding to the impression that the whole town itself was made of metal. The few ships that were at anchor had seen better days as they slowly bobbed with the movement of the water; nets and lobster pots stacked haphazardly on the jetty and they too had seen better days.
Boards creaked and groaned behind her; a familiar presence swept over her.
‘I heard Zuivosal was meant to be one of the most beautiful places in the world.’ mused Romina. ‘I hope this isn’t a taste of things to come.’ she said to her sister.
‘We can only hope.’ said Zahara as she came to a halt at her side.
They stood silently taking in the view as the ship slowly glided through the water towards the jetty.
Behind them, Captain Inga Stone shouted direct, using fairly colourful language, towards her crew ordering the gathering in of sails and the small group of oarsmen beneath them slowly guiding the ship into its place.
Romina had grown to like the young woman. She was 10 years older than Romina and was quite the most direct person that she had ever met. They had shared stories on the way over in the dull lamplight of breakfast or on the deck, with only the wind and the waves for company.
In truth she would be sad to leave her, they had got on well, and most importantly she had provided a welcome distraction. Ever since the conversation with her father, she had craved something to occupy her attention and for the most part she had found it in the young captain.
Inga was all wild hair and even wilder stories.
Romina wasn’t entirely certain she believed all of them, but they had done the trick. They had traded stories and tales whilst teasing and winding up Zalen. The blonde Walker seemingly a sucker for a good tale, his eyes wide as she talked. But afterwards on her own, thoughts would inevitably return to her father.
She had been shocked that night, but not entirely surprised. She had thought something wrong but had not been expecting his outpouring of emotions.
It was the prospect of him taking his own life which was the cause of most concern.
He was, or at least she remembered him, as being the most stoic of people.
Principled, pragmatic, and proud.
How had he been reduced to seeing the loss of his own life as the only escape? But maybe that was the whole point, it was the only escape from a world that he felt held nothing for him. And yet, it did.
It did hold something for him, he was just too blinded by grief not seeing what was right in front of him. Or what was hundreds of miles away in Vanguard.
She considered that given the circumstances - the sudden and life-changing events that had happened all those years before - it was inevitable that he would reconsider what he truly needed.
His admission that he needed Romina and Zahara had provided great comfort.
She better understood now why he had done what he had done, and she supposed given the same circumstances with her in his place, she may well have done the same. This was not to say that she had forgiven him. One conversation does not heal all wounds; indeed, she knew this still had a long way to go. But it was clear that they had made some progress.
‘Depressing sort of place.’ said Zalen conversationally, voice echoing from behind her. ‘Not sure I fancy hanging around this place too long.’
‘Don't worry, Zalen. We were thinking the same thing.’ said Romina giving her sister a knowing look. Zahara winked back.
The girls smiled, then turned, and stared at Zalen, immediately the red Walker took half a step back, eyebrows knitted together.
‘What.’ he said suspiciously.
‘What…?’ he repeated, searching their faces.
‘Nothing...’ they said in unison.
Zalen scowled, slowly turned then stomped away, muttering under his breath.
Their ability to constantly windup Zalen provided much amusement and there was no prospect that he was getting any wiser to their routine.
She loved him dearly, but it was a good way of keeping him on his toes.
Kubrean approached the front of the ship.
‘Let me know the moment we dock.’ he said to the sisters. ‘Time is of the essence. We have somebody to meet and they should have arrived by now.’ he said.
The women looked at each other than at him.
Romina bristled. ‘Who?’ she asked.
‘For the moment, that is none of your business.’ replied Kubrean with a crocodile grin. ‘You two will just have to wait and see but trust me.’ he said, ‘You won’t be disappointed.’
***
The tavern they had chosen as their overnight accommodation was surprisingly good. White plastered walls, wooden beams, low ceiling, a roaring fire in the corner.
Everything that Romina had hoped.
It smelt clean, fresh, and slightly of salt, the food – a hearty broth of red meat and vegetables, crusty dark bread with yellow butter - was good. The first meal she had eaten and felt able to keep down for a long time. Her legs were still buffeted by phantom waves, she wriggled in her seat to shake the sensation away.
They also had a rather excellent selection of beers, which sent a slight shudder through Romina and so on this particular night she had settled for just water.
Most surprisingly, although it was a large tavern, they had been able to acquire an entirely separate building for themselves. The whole group had been able to settle under one roof and best of all, she had been able to take a bath after the long weeks of travelling, weariness, grit, dirt and the monotony all washed away.
‘So, who we are we here to meet?’ she said to Kubrean.
He simply smiled and raised his cup.
She sat back, instantly a sulky teenager.
‘You’ll get nothing out of him.’ said Lauden shaking his head. ‘The man is stone.’
Romina grunted, pursing her lips.
‘Believe me, I’ve tried.’ continued the young man. ‘He could keep a secret from himself if he chose to.’
Romina frowned, trying to figure that one out.
‘Any guesses?’ he asked, peering over his cup.
She shook her head.
The suspense had been killing her.
They had waited patiently for over a day now, but still they guest had not arrived. She had tried her best to get the secret out of Kubrean – with a little help from her sister – using all manner of different tactics: sweetness, innocence, cheekiness and lastly blatant all-out pestering.
Nothing had worked.
Each attempt deflected, brushed aside, shrugged off or smiled away; the skills of a man who had acquired complete immunity to persuasion.
‘Please, Kubrean.’ she moaned, in her seat. ‘Who are we waiting for?’ she curled her lips.
‘I believe that would be me.’ said a voice in the doorway.
Lauden jerked his head up; face slackened and his eyes widened.
Romina turned to see a tall, lean woman stood there, dressed head to toe in black, a traveller cloak over her shoulders, hood covering her head. She took a step forward and pulled the hood back, revealing short platinum blonde hair, completely at odds with her dark midnight skin.
; She smiled openly and approached Kubrean with open arms. Her footsteps echoing on the wooden floor. He rose, and she hugged him. He appeared slightly unsettled by the act of affection. He then bowed and smiled.
‘My Master.’ he announced. ‘Ladies and gentlemen, may I introduce you to the Paragon Master of the Walker Order. The Black Walker - Gythe.’
Lauden raised his eyebrows.
Clearly pleased with the announcement, she beamed and nodded each in turn to the entire group sat around the table. There was a collective screech of chairs as all in the room stood and bowed towards her.
‘Please, please, sit, continue with your meal.’ she said waving them down.
Excited chatter broke out between them.
Lauden puffed out his cheeks and let out a long, slow breath.
Romina herself was flushed with a sudden bout of nerves. She risked a sly look at Gythe, eyes darting away as the Black Walker looked towards her.
She had never actually met Gythe, even though they had lived in the same city, Vanguard, for over 6 years.
‘I wasn’t expecting that.’ whispered Lauden behind his hand.
‘You weren’t expecting what?’ said a voice rich and deep.
Romina turned to see Gythe take a seat beside her looking straight at Lauden.
The young Walker squirmed slightly in his seat, lost for words.
‘Anybody?’ Gythe said looking around the table, her eyes fell upon Romina.
Romina coughed, spluttered raised her hand. But no words came.
Gythe grinned.
‘I thought you'd be taller.’ Romina blurted, her mouth appearing to take on a life of its own.
Gythe burst out laughing. The corners of her eyes lit up and wrinkled. She attempted to cover the laugh with her hand but failed miserably.
Lauden winced.
Romina pulled her knees together and tucked her arms into her side.
Gythe raised a hand, shaking her head.
‘I am sorry.’ she snorted ‘ but you have no idea how many times I have heard that.’
Romina blushed, unable to look Gythe in the eyes. ‘My apologies.’ she blurted again.
‘It's quite all right.’ Gythe laughed, waving it away. ‘It just never ceases to amaze me how that's the first thing that people say when they meet me. I wish I was taller, if the truth be told, but unfortunately the universe does not wish that to be the case, and who am I to argue.’ she said with a shrug.
Romina’s face felt cooler now, and she raised her chin, stretching out her neck a smile fixed in place and she looked towards Gythe.
Gythe flexed her fingers, and an apple jumped out of the bowl straight into her hand. She settled back into her seat and whilst still looking at Lauden beckoned with two fingers of her other hand and a clay cup of water shuffled across the table and settled in front of her.
‘So, what else do you know about me?’ she said looking between the pair, ‘Other than how short I am?’
‘That you’re a legend.’ blurted Lauden, face stiffening having realised half a second later what his mouth had just said.
Gythe winced.
It appeared talking without thinking was spreading.
‘That might be putting it slightly too...’ she struggled for the right word. ‘plainly?’
She looked at the apple polished it. ‘Or maybe not…’ she grinned and took a large bite.
Lauden swallowed. ‘You have been the Black Walker for 5 years.’
‘Four, not five.’ she said inspecting the apple. ‘But close enough.’
‘That you are the most powerful Walker alive.’ Lauden said eyes widening.
‘I’m certainly more powerful than the dead ones.’ she said, ‘And I’m not sure I am the most powerful living Walker. But do continue...’ she placed the remnants of the apple back down on the table.
Lauden licked his lips, leaning forwards in his seat.
‘I heard that you single handily saved Ramazi at the battle of Rynk…’
Gythe’s glanced at Romina, who swallowed, but said nothing.
‘There was no battle of Rynk, just a great tragedy.’ said Gythe working the muscles in her mouth as she ground a cup into the table.
‘If you wish to know the truth, I was lucky. Others were not. Ramazi was injured and despite my efforts he was never the same afterwards.’ she blew out a long heavy sigh.
‘He died less than a year later.’ she shook her head. ‘But that is the past and you should study your history more closely. Less you say something you may regret.’ she looked sharply at Lauden.
Romina remained silent, eager not to draw any attention to herself.
Lauden lowered his gaze.
‘Yes, my Master.’ he said clearing his throat. ‘I, er, have to go. Call of nature.’ he stuttered, pointing to the door with his thumb, smiling weakly.
A creak of wood and he was gone.
‘I am sorry about that.’ said Gythe eyes soft.
‘It’s not his fault.’ said Romina fiddling with her shirt sleeves. ‘He’s just enthusiastic and how could he have known?’
‘That’s very good of you.’ said Gythe nodding slowly to herself.
Romina shrugged.
‘I see much of your mother in you.’ said Gythe.
Romina felt hot, she shifted in her seat but stayed silent.
‘I knew her, not well, but I did know her. She was a woman of extraordinary talents.’ Gythe said stroking her neck.
‘Your brother too. Jack?’
‘Jayk.’ corrected Romina, not looking up.
‘Jayk.’ Gythe nodded slowly. ‘Such a waste. Such a dark day for the Walker Order.’ Gythe narrowing her eyes and rubbed the back of her neck.
‘You were there?’ murmured Romina
Gythe nodded. ‘You should be proud of them. I would not have survived if it wasn’t for them.’ she said. ‘Small comfort for you I suppose.’
‘It helps.’ said Romina, still inspecting the sleeve of her shirt.
‘I’m glad.’ said Gythe reaching forwards to rest her hand on Romina’s shoulder.
The touch felt like ice, but Romina just looked up and forced a smile.
‘So glad you two are getting acquainted.’ beamed Kubrean as he dropped himself into Lauden’s seat with a grunt.
Gythe smiled sympathetically and settled back into her seat. She clicked her tongue and removed her cloak, draping it over the back of the chair to reveal the identical grey and black armour of the other Walkers sat around the table.
‘Time, we got started.’ she said to Kubrean, business like once again.
Kubrean nosily cleared his throat, rapping the cup on the table.
As if well-rehearsed the room fell into silence and all eyes looked towards him.
Kubrean sniffed, leant forwards, and began.
He recounted recent events; their engagements with the Krund outside Thura, the carnage at the village of Grihr, the threat of the return of Reng, their partially successful visit to the university city of Prava, the instructions of Duke Lomman and lastly their encounter with the unknown enemy en route.
He introduced Aralorne – sat as if chiselled from white marble at the end of the table - as an adviser to Nova and Tokel.
He nodded towards Gythe who returned the gesture.
Romina frowned.
Was it her imagination or did a look pass between them?
Aralorne, gazed towards her and she flinched slightly as their eyes met, but she forced a smile back and maintained eye contact.
He held her stare for an uncomfortably long time.
The hairs on the back of her neck began to rise.
Then for no reason at all Aralorne winked at her then returned his attention towards the table.
She let out a slow controlled breath, her stomach no longer feeling like a rock.
Whatever that was she did not like, not one bit.
She folded her arms and looked towards Zahara; face bright and attentive, but completely missing the look,
then at her father; he sat elbows on the table nursing a cup between his hands. He glanced towards Romina and raised his eyebrows in acknowledgement as he took a slow drink.
Had he seen the look, had he felt what she had?
‘So, why am I really here?’ said Gythe pursing her lips, looking around the table.
‘If I may?’ offered Aralorne.
‘By all means.’ said Nova hands open and wide,
Aralorne licked his lips, then moved forward, placing his elbows on the table.
‘We need to get into Zuivosal, soon.’ he said, respectfully.
Gythe tilted her head to one side but said nothing.
‘The records that we need to investigate, which can confirm or deny the return of Reng, are inside the archives of the city.’ he said. ‘Unfortunately, there is no other way. The threat of Reng returning, the apparent murder of the scholar at Prava caused me great concern and I've shared those concerns with Nova, Tokel and Kubrean. As members of the Grey Council, they have the authority to open the city if the Council is entirely in agreement.’
Gythe looked towards Nova, the old man twitched but nodded back.
‘The Grey Council are all in agreement. We must enter the city, investigate and put an end to this matter with facts, at the moment we are just dealing with myths and legends. The records we have access to here, or anywhere in Thodar are simply not sufficient to provide the answers we need.’ he said. ‘Zuivosal will provide those answers.’
Gythe nodded her head thoughtfully.
‘And you have spoken, to all the Grey Council?’ she asked.
‘Between the three of us, yes. They are all in agreement.’ said Tokel.
Gythe cocked her head. ‘They can be a stubborn bunch; I’d like to have seen how you’ve got them on side.’
Kubrean grinned.
‘We have exhausted all of our options and Aralorne is right, we must get to the bottom of this mystery. If there is even the remotest possibility of Reng returning. We have to be certain and, if necessary, we have to stop it.’ said Tokel banging her hand on the table.
It made almost everyone in the room flinch, except Gythe, Aralorne and her father she noticed.
Nervous laughter filled the room.
‘Sorry.’ said Tokel sheepishly, looking around the room at smiling faces. ‘But it is important.’
