The Return of the Sword

by Roger Taylor

  ‘Did what?’ Antyr asked in return.

  ‘That,’ Andawyr said, taking his hand again. ‘That feeling when the book was closing.’

  ‘I felt nothing,’ Antyr replied.

  Andawyr tilted his head on one side as if he had not heard correctly.

  ‘Nothing?’

  ‘Nothing.’

  Andawyr looked at his hand with the expression of a man looking at a faulty timepiece.

  ‘Nothing at all?’

  ‘No,’ Antyr confirmed, beginning to be alarmed that he had made another social blunder amongst his new friends.

  ‘How very odd,’ Andawyr said slowly, staring now at Antyr as though he might have been a faulty timepiece. Antyr shifted uncomfortably and Andawyr was suddenly alive with apology.

  ‘Forgive me,’ he said, words stumbling out in his haste. ‘You caught me unawares this time. I’ve never known anything like that. You should have felt something. That’s one of the most effective teaching aids to get past the difficulties we run into when words alone aren’t really sufficient.’ He waved his hands vaguely as if trying to still what were obviously many clamouring questions. ‘I can see we’re going to learn a great deal about one another over the coming days – with your permission, of course,’ he added quickly. ‘But for now, I’d like Usche to finish her discourse for you.’

  He sat back, out of sight of Antyr again, and, playing alternately with his battered nose and his straggly beard, fell silent, except for an occasional soft and tuneless humming.

  Usche’s face reflected Andawyr’s curiosity and excitement and it was a visible effort for her to gather the threads of her explanation before she could continue. She started with an apology of her own. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said, mouthing the words rather than speaking them. ‘It was rude of me to react the way I did.’

  ‘Everyone’s apologized to everyone else now,’ Antyr said. ‘I think honour’s satisfied.’

  Usche nearly smiled, then she cleared her throat and patted the book. ‘That’s what can be done with the Power, if you know how,’ she said. ‘That and many other things.’

  ‘How did you do it?’

  Usche pulled a wry face. ‘I don’t know. That’s to say, I know how I did it, just like I know how to plant a seed to grow a flower. But the deeper reasons for such a thing being possible . . .’ She shrugged. ‘We search, though. Here we search endlessly.’

  ‘How do you think you did it?’

  The humming behind Antyr stopped abruptly.

  Usche smiled broadly. ‘I can’t begin to tell you about that,’ she said. ‘I’m not trying to avoid your question but it really is very complicated. As, I’m sure, are the details of your own profession, if I understood it correctly from Andawyr.’

  Antyr acknowledged the point and the humming started again.

  ‘What I can tell you, though, is that while most people have some sensitivity to the Power,’ she gave him a brief, curious look, ‘not everyone can use it as I just did. A certain . . . inborn . . . quality has to be present. Without it, no amount of training and dedication will have any effect.’

  ‘It’s the same with my own trade – profession – call it what you will. Some can do it, most can’t. If the ability is there and if a suitable Earth Holder can be found . . .’ Unconsciously he reached down and stroked the two wolves now lying at either side of his chair. ‘Then it can be developed. But if it isn’t there, then . . . nothing.’

  Usche could not resist. ‘Does this ability run in families – father to son, mother to daughter?’

  ‘Sometimes, but there’s no logic or pattern to it. For the most part it appears at random. My father was a Dream Finder, but there was no guarantee that I would be one.’

  Usche leaned forward. ‘So it is with the ability to use the Power,’ she said, waving a finger for emphasis. ‘Quite arbitrary. As big a mystery as the Power itself, in many ways. It’s really very odd.’ She became earnest, drawing him into the discussion. ‘We know that this inborn quality is similar to those that make us left- or right-handed, tall or short, but to some extent they’re calculable traits, while this is extraordinarily elusive. It . . .’

  Andawyr coughed significantly.

  Usche gave Antyr a guilty grimace and sat back in her chair again. ‘But, whatever the reason for any of us having this ability, if it’s there, then using it, for the most part, is logical, consistent and orderly. Obviously some tasks are harder than others, but when I wished to open the book, for example, I did it, and when I wished to close it, I did that.’

  There was another slight cough.

  ‘So, at one level – at the level of ordinary use – of practical applications, here, now – we know a great deal. Going deeper, the picture becomes far less clear. It’s always been known that the Power pervades everything. Until quite recently it used to be thought that it came from what we call the Great Searing – the beginning of everything. But we think now – in fact, we’re fairly certain, actually – that the Great Searing was something that happened only on this world and that it itself was just an unusual manifestation of the Power. It’s becoming apparent now that the Power truly underlies everything – me, you, this book, the table, these walls. We’re all simply different aspects of it.’ She was warming to her explanation. ‘And not just us, here, but quite literally everything. The sun, the stars, the great islands of stars far beyond our own.’ There was wonder in her face. ‘So many things come together to make this highly probable,’ she went on excitedly. ‘It’s . . .’

  ‘It’s enough for now,’ Andawyr interrupted. ‘Well done. That was a good effort under the circumstances. I’ll go through it with you tomorrow. Track me down if I look like forgetting. Now, if you’ll excuse us, I need to talk to Antyr for a while.’

  Usche, a little flushed at this praise, quickly gathered up her book and papers.

  ‘Thank you,’ Antyr said, offering his hand. She took it. Then, with a slight bow, she left.

  ‘I don’t think it was her fault, but I’m not sure I’m much wiser,’ Antyr said when she had gone.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ Andawyr said. ‘It’s far from easy to understand but we’ve plenty of time to talk and I’m sure you’ll pick up enough to get a feeling for what it’s all about. Then, if you want to study it – where better could you be?’ He frowned. ‘Though I’m puzzled that you felt no response when I passed Usche’s sending through you. Very puzzled.’ Then he smiled broadly. ‘You see, we’re just as mystified by you as you are by us.’

  Andawyr glanced towards the door that Usche had left through. ‘It was a little unkind, dropping that on her without warning, but she did very well.’ He burst out laughing again. ‘Though she really didn’t like being taken for a market trickster. I think if it had been anyone she knew, she’d have floored them.’ It took him some time to recover. ‘She’s a very capable woman,’ he went on eventually, wiping his eyes and then tapping his head. ‘Both intellectually and in her methodical use of the Power. But she’s reached a stage where she needs to . . .’ He made an expansive gesture. ‘To fly a little – to let go – to trust her intuition – to realize that it’s actually the fine invisible edge of her intellect, not something vague and separate and . . . faintly undesirable.’ He mimicked her voice and manner with these last words, with an accuracy that made Antyr laugh. ‘When she does that, she’ll be a tremendous asset to us here.’

  The remark brought to the surface a question that had been forming in Antyr’s mind for some time. He was hesitant about voicing it even though everything he had seen since he had arrived had shown him that Andawyr encouraged inquiry. He started it carefully.

  ‘I hope you won’t think this is an impertinent question, but . . .’ He hesitated. ‘Exactly what is it that your Order does? How does it sustain itself? Even what I’ve seen of this place is enormous and there must be so many people here.’

  ‘Ah, food, water, clothing, and the like, all the many services that any community needs, eh?’

&n
bsp; ‘Well, yes.’

  As ever, Andawyr seemed to be pleased with the question ‘We get by very much the same way as any other community, I suppose,’ he said. ‘We support ourselves in those things that we can, and trade with our neighbours for those we can’t. We offer many services. We’re not concerned exclusively with esoteric studies into the nature of being and existence, or with preparing for the return of Sumeral, by any means. We study anything and everything.’ He became unexpectedly serious. ‘Ethriss himself set us on that way. Always he inveighed against ignorance. “A shadow-dwelling creature” he called it. “A bringer of darkness and superstition and all the horrors that only the arrogance of mindless certainty can create.” It was perhaps the only thing he was known to get angry about – even in himself – especially in himself. In fact, it’s said that the reason for his ultimate injunction to us was that he’d discovered something he knew he himself could never fathom. He told us to “go beyond”. Go beyond.’ Andawyr mulled over the words silently for some time before continuing in a more matter-of-fact vein. ‘Still, returning to your question. Some of us are farmers – you may have seen the cultivated fields as you came through the valley. Some go out as teachers, some as healers, some as advisers to those who find themselves obliged to rule, some as arbitrators to smooth out disputes, some as musicians, and, as you might imagine from this place, we know more than a little about building. We’ve many, many useful trades and skills.’ He gave a knowing laugh. ‘No Dream Finders, though.’

  ‘Not yet, anyway,’ Antyr offered.

  Andawyr inclined his head with heavy graciousness.

  ‘And, too, we’re fortunate. History, both the old and the terrible recent, has given us the trust and support of those same neighbours, the Riddinvolk especially. They’re an unusual people.’

  ‘So Yatsu and Jaldaric told me. It seems they live for their horses and . . . the Muster . . . is it?’

  ‘They do, and it is,’ Andawyr chuckled. ‘Hence Usche’s caustic reference to my own riding ability. They judge everyone by their horsemanship. It’s a social code of unbelievable subtlety – quite defeats me, for sure. But they’re very tolerant and good-natured – live and let live.’ The chuckle became a laugh. ‘It’s always fun to see them “making allowances” for outlanders like me as we wobble along on horseback – doing their damnedest not to be patronizing – or not to laugh. You watch when we go down to Anderras Darion. I’ll be more than surprised if at least once you don’t catch Usche looking at you as though you were a particularly awkward child. They’ll even do it to the likes of Yatsu and Jaldaric. They can’t help themselves.’

  ‘Where did this . . . enthusiasm . . . come from?’ Antyr asked.

  ‘Oh, like many things it harks all the way back to the First Coming. It’s a military tradition that’s become an integral part of their society. The Fyordyn have something similar with the service of their young people in the Lords’ High Guards.’ He became pensive. ‘Though, like us here, in the absence of threat I’m afraid much of the original intention had been allowed to slip away. It’s more than fortunate there was enough left to save us all when He returned.’ He shrugged off the mood. ‘Anyway, happily the Riddinvolk still have a highly developed sense of neighbourliness and this adds much to our life here in addition to the winning of our basic necessities.’

  ‘It sounds very civilized – very comfortable.’

  ‘It is, though you’d not have thought so sixteen years ago. We were as war-torn and fearful as I suspect any of your peoples have ever been. However . . .’ He clapped his hands. ‘Enough of that. This profession of yours. This Dream Finding. My curiosity’s burning a hole in something. I feel like a child at the Winter Festival. Are you sure I’m not imposing on you, asking you to do whatever it is you do, for me, tonight?’

  ‘It’s no imposition at all,’ Antyr replied.

  ‘It might well mean a long night for you. Jaldaric was right, I don’t sleep a great deal.’

  ‘Don’t worry. That’s nothing new for me. Quite often my clients have difficulty sleeping . . .’

  ‘That’s why they need someone to help with their dreams, of course.’

  ‘Exactly. But don’t concern yourself about me. Just do what you normally do, Tarrian and Grayle are already watching you. They’ll tell me when you’re asleep.’ Antyr’s tone became confidential. ‘But I’ll have to go to bed myself soon, it’s been a long day. Yatsu and Jaldaric have a great flair for getting up as soon as the sky begins to lighten and it’s not something I’ve managed to get used to. Nor do I think I’m likely to.’

  ‘Yes, they’re very strict with themselves, the Goraidin,’ Andawyr said understandingly. ‘I’ll have Ar-Billan show you to your quarters as soon as you’re ready.’ He put his hand to his forehead. ‘And I’ll have to show you where my room is, won’t I?’

  ‘That’s no problem,’ Antyr reassured him, indicating the wolves. ‘But there is something very important that you need to know about. Or, more particularly, that anyone likely to come into your room needs to know about.’

  Andawyr gave him an enigmatic look.

  ‘Does anyone wake you in the morning – a servant, perhaps?’

  ‘Not as a rule. But if I oversleep, Oslang usually takes a malicious delight in playing the Goraidin himself.’

  Antyr thought for a moment. ‘Everyone’s so unfamiliar with Dream Finding round here,’ he said, half to himself. ‘We must be careful. I think – no, I know – we should have Jaldaric or Yatsu present. They understand what’s involved. And I’d like to speak to Oslang anyway.’ He took Andawyr’s arm. ‘It’s very important that he, or anyone else liable to enter your room, does exactly as I tell them.’

  ‘You’re beginning to make this sound rather alarming.’

  ‘Yes and no. For us, it’s all quite safe – innocuous even – but for any inadvertent intruder, it’s more than alarming, it’s dangerous – very dangerous.’ Antyr released Andawyr’s arm and his manner became professional. ‘Tarrian and Grayle guard us both and they guard us totally and in a manner over which they’ve no control. Put briefly, if anyone tries to touch us or wake us, they’ll be attacked without hesitation. And, Tarrian and Grayle being the animals they are, that person will probably be killed.’

  Andawyr looked uneasy. ‘You talk to them, don’t you?’ He touched his temple. ‘Can’t you tell them in advance who they should and should not attack?’

  ‘No.’ Antyr’s denial coincided with one from the two wolves resonating in Andawyr’s mind. He shook his head and screwed his eyes tight shut. Antyr went on. ‘I told you, it’s beyond any control – theirs or mine. But there’s no danger, providing everyone knows what to do and does it – namely nothing, except sit still and watch.’

  Andawyr adopted an expression of qualified reassurance.

  ‘As you’ve just been saying, the danger lies in ignorance,’ Antyr said.

  ‘What can I say to so apt a student of so wise a teacher?’ Andawyr retorted. ‘If Yatsu or Jaldaric want to spend the night in my pit, they’re welcome. And I’ll make sure you get a chance to instruct Oslang in the do’s and don’ts of Dream Finding. The only other problem I can see after that is where I’m going to put you all. I think I might have mentioned that tidiness isn’t my strongest point.’

  * * * *

  Some time later a paw gently prodded a sleeping Antyr into wakefulness.

  ‘It’s time,’ Tarrian whispered.

  Chapter 7

  Antyr could not suppress a twinge of regret as he followed the two wolves along the softly lit corridor. It had been a long time since he had lain in a proper bed and though he had reached a stage where sleeping in a tent or in the open air was not without its own satisfaction, even importance, to him in its spartan demands and simplicity, the softness of the bed had been more than alluring.

  The corridor was thickly carpeted and their progress was very quiet. There was no hint of sound reaching them to indicate that the rest of the Cadwanen was anything
other than completely at rest.

  ‘Come on, hurry up,’ Tarrian urged.

  ‘I am hurrying,’ Antyr yawned. ‘And the pair of you can just control your impatience.’

  ‘Don’t know what you mean.’

  ‘Yes, you do.’

  ‘We’re here.’

  Tarrian nosed open a door that was standing slightly ajar and he and Grayle walked straight in. Antyr entered a little more discreetly, noting as he did so that there was nothing about the door that was materially different from any of the others they had passed. Nothing that said it was the room of the leader of this enormous place and all its inhabitants. And, in marked contrast to his experience in Serenstad, there was no gauntlet of suspicious, hard-eyed and heavily armed guards to run. He found the absence of such restraints strangely disorientating.

  The room itself, however, brought him sharply to the present. Two low lights illuminated it sufficiently to confirm Andawyr’s admission that tidiness was not his strongest point.

  ‘This place is a tip,’ Tarrian announced bluntly as he and Grayle began arbitrarily searching through the various articles of clothing and bedding scattered about the floor.

  ‘Behave yourselves,’ Antyr snapped.

  He caught a faint stream of grumbling abuse as the two wolves pulled away from him.

  Already inside the room were Oslang and Yatsu. They were sitting by the door in large comfortable chairs that had obviously been imported into the room for the night’s vigil.

  ‘Young Jaldaric needed his beauty sleep,’ Yatsu whispered mockingly as he stood up and acknowledged Antyr.

  ‘You don’t have to whisper,’ came a voice from a rumpled bed at the far end of the room. ‘I’m not asleep yet. Nor likely to be with all this din. I must say I hadn’t bargained on such a crowd gathering.’

  ‘I’ll be with you in a moment,’ Antyr said professionally. He crouched down in front of Oslang.

  ‘I remember what you told me,’ Oslang said before he could speak.