by Lloyd Baron
“I think that I will.” Sabastian tries to walk past her but she holds out her arm and stops him.
“What did you see? What do you know of this boy?” Her heart begins to race within her chest. For him to ask such a ridiculous question, he must have knowledge of his future. His gift for knowing things is the only reason he is a part of the Six. His talent for mind control developed much later. “Tell me!” she screams before she can calm her nerves.
“I will meet him three more times. The last time we meet will be the death of one of us.”
“This will come true. You are never wrong! Then I don’t understand why you want to...”
“Because if I leave the service of the Master I might be able to stop this. I do not want to be the one to take his life. I would rather die myself.”
“Maybe you will.” The look he gives her is so sad that she reaches out and puts a hand upon his shoulder. “Let’s go. This will be our secret. The Master does not need to know any of this.”
“Thank you,” he whispers. “When did we become these monsters?”
She takes his arm and leads him down the corridor ignoring his last comment. Sabastian had once been a good King and loved by all who bowed to him. Katilena has always been a monster for as long as she can remember. As she reaches the end she turns and sees a dark figure staring from beneath a cowl. She shudders and without another glance drags Sabastian through the doors.
Ervand takes a deep shuddering breath yet it fails to settle him. Why does he feel like this? Does Aasta not make him feel like this? No... She does not. What he feels about Aasta is different somehow. He loves her. So why does his heart ache so much now that this strange man has walked away? He puts his fingers to his lips and strokes where Sabastian’s had touched. The pit of his stomach drops through the floor and he goes with it. He hits the stone hard but he hardly feels the pain in his knees. Tears spill down his face and he holds himself like a mother should, or lover; rocking backwards and forwards.
“Go after him,” a voice says into his mind. “I cannot stand the pain I feel coming from you. It is killing me.”
“I’m sorry,” he says out loud.
“Do not be sorry. I am an open-minded old thing. I once fancied this ginger haired beauty which turned out to be a boy. Talk to my mind, you do not have to speak. I know what you are feeling.”
“How can you?” Ervand says to the stone baluster, and then thinks it, like the voice had said. It helps him to hear the words out loud. “I don’t even know how I am feeling. I have never looked at a man in that way. I have never felt anything for a man before.”
“You are not the first man to feel this way about another man, son. You might not want to be with him so to speak but you may want to be near him or even touch him. The heart is a very delicate and odd creation.” The voice sighs across the link and it tickles Ervand behind the ear. “All I know is that you pushed out a huge amount of emotion about an hour ago and then it kept coming at a trickle. Suddenly, and I have to say I was about to take a nap, this explosion of pain and loss. If you feel like that then I can only guess it is from someone you love deeply. I am the other side of the palace and I felt stray emotions flinging themselves about. That is why I had to make contact. Do you love him?”
“I can’t love him,” he says weakly without passing on the message. He cuts the link closed and gets to his feet. Sitting on the wall beside his hand is the wide-rimmed black hat with the pink feather. He reaches out and lifts it to his face. He sniffs it once and his heart stutters as he smells the sweet scent of Sabastian. The same scent he had smelt in the hall which had made him feel at peace and content.
He wipes his eyes with the backs of his hands and places the hat upon his head. Maybe Sabastian will try to find it and when he does it will be here on his head. Find the hat and find the man.
He smiles to himself, Derry’n would never have done this but he is no longer that man, he is now Ervand Clain and Ervand Clain lives to please himself.
28
A TRUE HEALER
“Lisle,” Riochald barks as he turns his horse in front of her. She gives him a harsh stare which causes him to steer his grey mare swiftly away.
Darwin’t shakes his head and turns his eyes towards Canace. “Aasta,” he coos and she turns to look at him with a wide smile. “How are you feeling today?”
Canace wobbles before moving her horse, Dew Drop, closer to his and leans over to kiss his cheek. She has to stretch so he moves slightly closer and lower to her. She straightens and wobbles again. “I am doing much better, Brychan. This saddle is very smooth and I keep slipping but apart from that I am doing just fine.” She looks ahead of her into the deep forest they are now only a day’s ride from. Her brow creases.
“Are your worries about the Dark Clan?” he asks quietly.
“I am not so much worried about the Dark Clan as I am about the forest. All those stories we were told as children. I cannot stop thinking about wolves and bears.”
Darwin’t reaches out and strokes her shoulder. He has had similar fears but he knows he has to be strong for Canace. The horse below him steps away to avoid a small rock and Darwin’t over stretches. Pain flares through his side where the demon dog had attacked him. Canace smiles softly and he nods back. They exchange no words about it.
He had cried in her arms the night of the ball. They curled up together in his bed and kept each other safe from the darkness. He is not ashamed to have cried in front of her but he knows that she is frightened now and if he shows his own fear it will only make things worse. He is the leader of this strange band of friends after all. Not that Riochald sees it that way.
Since becoming Dymphia, a member of the Healers’ Guild, her temper and impatience have become far worse. She lashed out at Danlynn this morning because he started to call her by her real name, and the evening before she even struck the big warrior, Fia, for the way he looked at her. Her role in the group meant she was in the highest position. Members of the Healers Guild are Mages who can use the power of nature. It is the rarest form this weak magic takes and is the only one not outlawed. In fact, people with the ability are regarded highly and given training at the temple of Ra’shar in the north west corner of Gamblet. However, they are only the luckiest of the Guild. Dymphia wears the green of the guild, but not the embroidery, marking her as a novice. Novice or no, she outranks even a princess when it comes to power in the open world. Even kings and queens have been known to bow down to the Healers’ Guild.
The weather is chill and the ground hard. Not suitable weather for riding but at least it is dry. The day following the ball had rained so hard that they feared a delay to the start of their journey. This could not happen because the executions of the prisoners being passed off as them were due at any time.
Standing in the rain, his new riding cloak plastered to his back, Darwin’t had surveyed the group. Danlynn was looking healthy for the first time in his life. His hair had been cut short but was still long enough to curl at the edges. He was saying his goodbyes to a maid who had shared his bedchamber the night before. His face belied his feelings. He was smiling and talkative to the woman but his eyes told that he wanted to be away. Once she had departed his friend had moved over to his horse and swung up into the saddle. Letting the animal take a few paces on its own before he took the reins and moved it out of the rain and under the gatehouse.
Derry’n was wearing a ridiculous black hat with a sodden pink feather. His cloak was tight around his shoulders as he had torn the sleeves from the new clothes brought to him that morning. Somehow he had changed in the previous night. He smiled and talked openly and his voice was no longer slow and measured but fast and reckless. Darwin’t had never seen the man let his tongue run freely before, and it was a nice sight. What he talked about was not so interesting. All this knowledge about paintings and artists had come from somewhere, and he was boring everyone to slumber with it all. But they let him talk. It was nice just to hear his voice sounding so h
appy.
Canace had been nervous but he had given her comfort. Darwin’t liked the fact that they were now known as a couple. Not Darwin’t and Canace, but Brychan and Aasta. This meant he could cuddle her or kiss her cheek without raising eyebrows. She led her horse by the reins until she was out of the rain before mounting. She cantered over to Riochald and the two of them were lost in secret conversation.
Derry’n was not the only person to change that morning. Tarfleam had a complete turnaround to his character. He greeted them all with a hearty hello and spent a few minutes brushing down his horse. He chatted to Derry’n and even began telling jokes. It was unnerving.
Fia Sharphorn had joined them once they were ready to depart. He had a word with them all about what to expect from the road and what they should do in event of separation or attack. Both things no-one wished to hear. He spoke to Canace privately, which she claimed was to do with her horse. He did not understand why, but he knew there was more to it than that.
Lastly a new person had been introduced to them. She was Fia’s sister’s husband’s, brother’s, daughter, Chaz. The girl was pretty but had a fierce set to her jaw. Her dark brown hair was cut to the shoulder and held back with a length of red rope. Her eyes burned into everyone, especially Canace. Fia made a joke that Chaz despised weak women.
“If that is what she thinks of Can... of Aasta, then she will be surprised at how strong she can be.” The big man had smile at that.
For almost a week they have been riding. Camping under the stars, crossing the green country of Atlant towards the Ber woods and the Dark Clan. Fia assured them that they only had another two days until they reached the city and the man they were due to meet.
The journey has been pleasant for the most. Riochald has calmed back into her usual stubborn and argumentative self but has dropped the act of being healer and has been doing what Fia instructs. Danlynn has looked for pretty girls in every village they have passed. He even stayed the night in a farmer’s barn with the farmer’s daughter. The day following, he was all smiles.
Canace’s mood brightened the closer they got to the end of the journey, her fears of wolves long forgotten and her fear of the Dark Wizard slowly fading with the thoughts of having someone there to protect them with magic. She and Chaz have started to get along also. They talk regularly late into the night in hushed tones, about what, he has no idea, and Canace likes it that way. Danlynn guessed it is probably about Darwin’t. That has made him stop asking her about it, but at the same time, more determined to find out what it is being said.
Derry’n, on the other hand, has slipped back into himself. He sits on his horse most days seemingly searching the horizon for something. His face is sad most of the day and his voice is back to its slow, hollow self—maybe even more so then before.
Darwin’t stares at him now and ponders what to do about the man. He has tried to be his friend but he does not understand him. They have nothing in common apart from the mission to the Dark Clan, and when they talk it always falls into uncomfortable silence. Something is clearly bothering the man: it just is finding out what.
Darwin’t’s only comfort is that the big man can often be seen rolling his eyes and giving small smiles or signals to the cat, which sits in a pocket sewn into his cloak. Kloek has become just as big a part of their family, as Chaz and Fia now are.
The mountain man drills them each morning. They have to clear the camp and be on their way before the sun rises, and they stop only for lunch and at night. He is a tough man but under it he is kind if not a little quick to anger. Darwin’t has watched him staring at Riochald in a way that no man ever has done.
Once, while Fia’s eyes were fixed on the woman’s back, Darwin’t had tried to picture what he was seeing. Riochald had turned, though, and caught him staring. A feeling of dread had crossed his skin and something close to revulsion. He had looked away so fast that his stomach churned. Why does she have that effect on him? But it is not only him. No man has ever shown an interest in her that way. Which he ponders is strange. She is a beautiful woman. Even if she did beat you around the head she would still make a good bonded for someone. Even that thought causes him to go dizzy and he has to stop thinking about her.
Chaz on the other hand is bossy and spoilt. She demands Fia fetch her water and to turn down her blankets at night. The big man does not always do as she says, which ends in glares or muttered curses.
He looks across at her now, riding straight-backed upon her black Shalmist mount. Her face is lost in thought. Her eyes move between Fia and Riochald as if sizing them both up for a fight. She might think she can take Fia, but she would have a harder time of bringing Riochald to her knees.
“What are you thinking?” Tarfleam’s happy voice says from his other side. Darwin’t looks across at him and smiles. The once bully of Gressgs is now one of his closest friends. Over the last four days they have talked and laughed. Tarfleam shares his mind openly, informing Darwin’t that his behavior had been based on fear and jealousy. He has revealed himself as highly intelligent and humorous—both things Darwin’t would never have thought of the man even a week before.
“I’m concerned about Derry’n. He drifts more and more into himself and away from us.” He glances over at the man who at that moment removes his hat and sniffs the feather. It seems to make him smile. “Where did he get that hat from? He seems more interested in it then he is in us. If it was not for Kloek then I would be deeply concerned for his safety.”
“Like you were for mine, when I was withdrawn?” Tarfleam’s tone is dry and mocking but he smiles as he says it.
“I’m sorry, Ozul,” he says with a wink, “and for your information, I was concerned. Friend or no, you were a part of the group. A big part as it now turns out.” He frowns at his new friend and shakes his head. “Why did you not tell us about the Dark Wizard at Doeia? We all believed you were burned by the dragon or from a burning building!”
“I did not think I would be believed. You are all special in some way. You and the dreams, Lisle and his making it cold, Ervand floating, and Dymphia healing. I felt powerless and weak. Stopping the Dark Wizard was an act of fear and hatred. I hated him so much for taking Tye, the only true friend I ever had, away from me. I lashed out and...” he grins in his old sly manner. “I was always a good shot with a stone.”
Darwin’t does not smile back. Many times growing up those stones had hit him in the head.
Tarfleam continues. “When he burnt my arm I fled. Dymphia found me and she was so shocked at what she saw that I thought if I told her the truth then she would think me a liar and not heal me.”
Darwin’t reaches out a hand and pats Tarfleam’s shoulder. “You thought that? Why?”
Tarfleam chuckles to himself but his eyes become cold. “Why not? I have been a menace to you all for many suns. I have sent many of you to Riochald for healing with cuts and bruises. She obviously still loathes me even now.”
“I don’t think that is right. She just has her way.”
“And I had mine. She still hated me for it.” He looks away into the darkness of the approaching woods. “I am not a very nice person, Brychan. Even now.”
Darwin’t watches him closely but remains quiet, deciding that interrupting would cause the man to stop his explanation.
“I think of myself over others. I can’t help it. I try sometimes not to, but it is rooted so deep within me. I want to change, but I find it so hard. I have thoughts that I should not have, about power and riches.” He turns back to look at Darwin’t and his eyes glisten with unshed tears. “When we were playing at being our new names. You were still you. Aasta still herself. Ervand changed, but that was not to do with his name, I am sure. We acted like we did not know each other, as we had been instructed by the Queen. Even she played along with Lisle and Dymphia. My thoughts were all about getting rid of you all. Getting your purses and valuables and heading off to make myself a lord.”
“It was only a game,” Darwin’t says
reassuringly. “We all acted out of character. That is what we were told to do. People had to think we were who we claimed to be so that we could leave no trail. You did an excellent job of making it seem like you did not wish us to tag along with the healer and the Flambourn lord.”
“That is it! It was not an act for me then. I really did want to be rid of you all! I blamed you for what is happening!”
“Do you still?”
“No,” Tarfleam lowers his face and pats the back of his horses head. “I saw something that night. I saw that I too have a power.”
Darwin’t almost falls from his horse. The animal slows down to compensate for the rider and he manages to pull himself back upright. He turns to stare at his friend. “What is it?”
Tarfleam smiles wickedly for a moment before looking around for something. He pulls his horse to a stop and drops down from the saddle. When he remounts he is holding a flower bud. He strokes the steam and slowly the flower opens and grows larger. It stops once fully open. Darwin’t is amazed and looks up at the rest of the group. He is about to call out when Tarfleam puts a hand on his arm and shakes his head.
“I do not want them to know yet. I do not want them to think I am somehow wrong.”
“We each have a gift. Why would they think yours is wrong?”
Tarfleam holds up the flower, or what remains of it. A withered brown mass rests in the palm of his hand. As he watches it melts into a think pulpy liquid and then dries into dust. He looks up at Tarfleam horrified. He even moves his horse slightly away.
Tarfleam nods once before brushing and dust from his hands. “That is why,” is all he says.
