He stared out into the dark forest. The wind was starting to rise; his cloak flapped in the strengthening breeze, a precursor to the next deluge. The rustling trees swished ahead of him, and slim saplings swayed as a sudden downpour drummed on the sodden ground and drenched them.
Chapter 15
Greenswatch
The little mackerel-coloured Arifel popped into view in front of Jerrol, scolding him about his location. He hovered, unimpressed with Jerrol being out in the rain when he could be warm and cosy inside. “Believe me,” Jerrol muttered, shivering inside his cloak. “I would much prefer to be warm and cosy.” The Arifel flitted away from the outcrop before returning to hover in front of Jerrol again, chittering pointedly.
“Hmm, Ari is saying he can take us to shelter, better than a night amongst the rocks,” Jerrol called behind him as he watched the little Arifel.
“Huh, you gonna believe that fluff ball?” Jennery wheezed. “He doesn’t even know where we are!” The Arifel popped into view in front of Jennery, scolding energetically, flapping his wings in Jennery’s face. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry!” Jennery cried, surrendering to the little creature.
The Arifel shook himself over Jennery, squawked and disappeared again. Jennery sighed and shook his head as Birlerion helped lever Jerrol carefully into his saddle. Birlerion paused to look up at Jerrol in concern before mounting his horse; he took Jennery’s reins and led him down the track after Jerrol and the Arifel.
About half a mile down the track Jerrol saw a dim light wavering amongst the trees. “Come quickly,” a voice called, “there is a barn to your left you can put your horses in. Reese will see to them for you.”
As Jerrol approached the structure, a large man opened the barn door, spilling golden light out into the night. “Quick, bring yourselves inside, this is no night to be out,” The man’s voice reached them through the rain as they approached.
Jerrol slid to the ground, leaning heavily against Zin’talia as he caught his breath against the jarring. He straightened as a wave of energy emanated from her, his bloodied hand convulsing on her mane. She tossed her head in agitation, whinnying softly.
The man took Zin’talia’s reins from Jerrol’s nerveless hand and led her into a stall. “Don’t worry. I’ll give her a good rubbing down. She’ll be fine,” the giant of a man said, his thatch of red hair glinting in the light of the lantern. He towered over Jerrol, even broader across the shoulders than Jennery. He soon had the saddle off and passed the saddlebags to Birlerion, who turned to help Jennery dismount. “Go on, get yourself in and dried off.” He reached for Jennery’s horse and led him into another stall. “I’ll be in in a moment, let me settle these for you,” he repeated, shooing them towards the cottage.
Jerrol and Birlerion exchanged a glance but did as he bid and steered Jennery towards the small cottage to be greeted by the welcoming smell of coffee in the warm moist air. A slender woman with masses of reddish-blonde curls stood ready to welcome them. “Come in, take off your cloaks. Here, dry yourselves off, it’s such a terrible night.”
“Thank you. You are very kind.” Jerrol wiped his face with the towel she handed him. She turned back from hanging up his cloak to take Jennery’s. Her smile lit up her face. “These cloaks protect well, but even the Lady can’t stop the rain.”
Jennery groaned. “But that means she can’t stop the mud either,” he said, looking down at his mud-splashed trousers.
“She can do many wondrous things, but you have to put up with the mud.” She hung Jennery’s cloak up and stopped to pet the Arifel who appeared in front of her. “Yes, well done, you brought them here,” she said, running a gentle finger down his chest. Ari preened before swooping to perch on a wooden pole extending out of the wall over the fireplace. He muttered to himself as he began to groom his wet fur.
She froze as she saw Birlerion. “Oh my, an Arifel is one thing but you...” She stared at him, her eyes wide. “You’re a Lady’s Guard, a Sentinal, aren’t you?”
Birlerion grinned, relaxing the strain on his face. “Yes, Guardian.”
“Oh my,” she said again. She caught sight of Jennery’s face, which was congealing as she spoke. “What happened? Ari didn’t say you had injuries.” She emptied the fruit bowl on the table and steered Jennery to a seat by the fire, placing the bowl in his lap and a blanket around his shoulders. “What about you two?”
“I think the Captain here needs a seamstress,” Birlerion said as Jerrol sat at the table. Birlerion helped him ease off his jacket, scowling in concern as Jerrol’s shirt was revealed, sodden with blood. Jerrol raised a bloody hand to stop an apple rolling off the table as he leaned back in the chair.
The room was homely, dominated by a large brick fireplace with a stack of wood, burning merrily. A basket piled high with logs sat to one side. Two armchairs faced each other from either side of the fire, a small footstool in front of one of them.
Oil lamps sat on a square table in the middle of the room, the wicks turned down and providing a gentle glow. On the floor was a cheerful woven rug in hues of red and blue, brightening up the room. Jerrol quirked a weary eyebrow. “My name is Jerrol; these are my friends Jennery and Birlerion.”
“I am Silene; you met my husband, Reese, out in the barn. Let me look at your side. Birlerion, please sit by the fire, you must be chilled to the bone. The weather has been unseasonably wet,” she instructed as she moved towards the kitchen, where she put a pan of water on to heat. “Please sit. I’ll soon have the Captain here sorted. Then I’ll make a hot drink.”
She placed a basket on the table and turned the wick of the lamp up high. Moving to Jerrol, she unwrapped his makeshift bandage and pursed her lips. She bathed his side, revealing the ugly gash. “You’re lucky it’s not deeper,” she murmured.
“The Lady protects,” was all Jerrol replied as he gritted his teeth against her gentle probing. “You can see the Arifel,” Jerrol said, watching Ari on his perch.
“Oh yes, isn’t he beautiful? I’ve read about them but never seen one. They disappeared after the Lady cracked the stone, no one knew where they went, and over time people have forgotten about them.”
“And a great many other things as well, I fear.”
“True,” Silene said, threading a sharp needle. “Fortunately for you,” she said with a twinkle in her eye, “not everyone has forgotten. I remember.”
Jennery hugged his bowl, listening to the low-toned conversation. “You remember?”
“Oh yes, I know all the histories and myths and legends. I teach the young, at least those who will listen, and I am often consulted by Lord Hugh or by councillors across the whole of Vespiri on points of law or land.”
Jerrol tensed as Silene began to sew the edges of the wound together; a sheen of sweat covered his face, and he winced as she progressed around his side.
Birlerion watched Silene, and then he pulled off his boots and left them by the front door next to Jennery’s, before padding damply over to the fire. His feet left faint footprints on the wooden floor. He perched on the edge of the chair and leaned towards the flames, the warmth relaxing his tense muscles.
Jennery sat in the other chair, groaning and hugging his bowl, not interested in anything but the fire. His big toe poked out of the hole in his muddy socks and his mud-splashed trousers dripped on the floor, creating a small pool that steamed in the warm air. A clock ticked in the silence, the regular sound soothing the tense men.
Silene finished her grisly work and dusted the wound with white powder before wrapping it securely with a bandage. She inspected Jerrol’s tattered shirt. “Do you have another?” she asked, wrapping a blanket around his shoulders before checking his eyes. “You’ll do,” she said as she collected the scraps and the bowl of blood-tinted water and took them out to the kitchen.
She returned with one of her husband’s shirts. “Here,” she said, removing the blanket and shaking out the shirt. She helped Jerrol ease his arms into the sleeves without further comment. The shirt
shimmered into the same collarless linen shirt he had been wearing before, and she grinned in appreciation. “You truly are the Captain.”
“So it seems,” he agreed. The sound of the bubbling water drew her back into the kitchen.
“Don’t worry about the mud,” Silene said reassuringly as she reentered the room with a tray. Birlerion leapt up to take the tray from her and placed it on the table. “Thank you,” she said, smiling up at him.
Birlerion smiled back, instinctively. Silene was the type of person who made you feel comfortable straightaway. She was assured and calm, and although not what he would have called beautiful, she was striking. Her movements were sure and economical, and she soon had them seated again with a hot mug of coffee.
“You’re a Rememberer,” Birlerion said.
“A Rememberer?” Jerrol asked, glancing from Silene to Birlerion.
“Yes, a Guardian of the Lady’s Lore: her history, her people and her land.” Silene gestured at Ari. “Your Arifel popped in earlier with a request for shelter, so we knew to expect you.”
“I’m not sure he’s mine exactly,” Jerrol said. “He appeared yesterday morning, and he goes where he wants.”
“Oh, he’s yours alright,” Silene chuckled. “The Lady’s Captain always had an Arifel. They act as messengers and are very intelligent as you can tell; he brought you here.” She looked up as the door opened and Reese strode in on a blustery gust of damp air. He ducked through the door; straightening up, he barely missed the beams in the ceiling. He shucked off his boots and coat and turned towards the fire, rubbing his hands.
“You lads alright? It’s a wild night out there,” he said, running his hands through his windswept hair.
“Yes, thank you, sir, it’s kind of you to take us in,” Birlerion said as he stood and extended his hand.
Reese shook it firmly. “Silene wouldn’t hear of leaving you out there, not after that young chap turned up.” He grinned, his blue eyes crinkling. “She wanted to speak with him further, I think,” he teased his wife. He waved Birlerion back into his seat.
“You,” said Silene pointing her finger at Jerrol, “don’t move until I tell you. Drink your coffee, it is well sugared, it’ll help with the blood loss.”
Reese pulled up a chair and sat as Silene handed him a mug of steaming coffee. “Ah,” he sighed, gratefully taking a sip. “Blood loss? What happened? I didn’t realise anyone was injured.”
“We were set upon about half a mile back down the track. Jennery suffered a bad blow, but we were fortunate to fight them off. I’m afraid there are a couple of bodies left out there.” Jerrol glanced across at his friend. He didn’t look the part, drooping in front of the fire, periodically sneezing.
“How did you know I was the Lady’s Captain?” Jerrol asked, turning back to Silene.
“Not only does your appearance shout it to those with eyes to see, the histories tell us that when Lady, Land and Liege are under siege, then look out for the Lady’s Captain who will lead the charge to reverse the threat and restore that which was sundered back to its former state. There have been multiple signs, and the Arifel confirms it. Birlerion here, well, he seals it. He wouldn’t be awake if there weren’t a Captain.”
“Why does the Arifel confirm it?” Jennery asked, drooping over his bowl.
“Because there has been no magic in this world since the cracking of the stone, but the magic must be leaking back in if the Arifel can appear. When the people desperately need help, when the Liege is struggling to hold his oath, when the Land itself is under threat, then the Lady will step in and appoint a Captain. A Captain who will protect the Land from those who wish to destroy it; who will protect the Guardians from those who do not understand and support the Liege to reassert his power.”
“I’m supposed to do all that?” Jerrol gasped, appalled, watching Birlerion lean back in his chair and rub a hand over his face.
“That and more, but not on your own and not tonight! There are many here to help you. The Guardians will help, we will help you.” She indicated Reese and herself.
“Do you know who or what is threatening us?” Birlerion asked, staring at the fire.
Silene shook her head. “That is for the Captain to find out.”
“Can you tell me more about the role of this Captain. I mean, are there any instructions captured somewhere?” Jerrol asked, a plaintive note creeping into his voice.
“The Lady will reveal what you need to know when the time is right. She will provide you with the companions you need; you have Birlerion, and Ari here, for example. They are both living myths and quite unexpected. I’m sure Birlerion can tell you more.”
“And your white mare,” Reese interrupted, “she has got to be a gift of the Lady; you don’t come by Darians very often.”
Silene looked at Reese. “A Darian?” She was shocked. “In our barn?”
Reese took up the conversation. “A right beauty she is too, and she knows it.” He grinned. “The councils are where you should start, lad. They are undermining the Lady, targeting Guardians. You need to discover what their purpose is. Deepwater lost its Lord recently, and the heir will not pick up the mantle. Word is that he turned away from the Lady; the councils’ influence, we believe.”
“We saw signs of that at the Grove, histories twisted, unexpected advisors, the smithy was set on fire, and we were unable to save the Guardian, Sylvie.”
Silene gasped, raising her hands to cover her mouth. “No, not Sylvie, you think it was deliberate?”
“Even more so now. If what you say is true, and we have a coordinated threat from the councils to overcome, then all Guardians are at risk. Yourselves included.” Jerrol paused. “How far are we from Greenswatch?”
“Not far, only a couple of miles as the crow flies. Lord Hugh keeps an eye on us. He values our knowledge, we tutor his children, though not so much Simeon of late.”
“Maybe you should consider asking Lord Hugh if you could stay at Greenswatch for a while,” Jerrol suggested. “You are not safe here.”
Reese shook his head. “We can’t leave here. We have animals to look after. Anyway, no one will bother us here. We are out of the way and, if necessary, I can protect us.”
Silene shifted in her chair. “There are many pointers in the histories. You should visit the records room at Greenswatch; you might find something there. I remember there being a record of all the holdings and their grants of land. It was organised by events rather than dates, events like the great Vesp flood or the storm that felled the King’s Oak. It had descriptions of the events and notations about the Guardians and who they were. The best records house is the Scholar House in Old Vespers; your challenge will be the fact that much of it is still uncatalogued. You need a seer who can find the signs; the signs are only visible to seers or the Oath Keeper. Unfortunately, I don’t think there have been either for the last three thousand years.”
“A Seer? Is that as likely as a Lady’s Captain?” Jerrol asked with a wry smile.
“Good point,” agreed Silene. “Your odds are looking better, and there’s something else about you, I can’t see it clearly,” she said thoughtfully as she stared at him, “though it does mean that we are approaching a major event.”
“A major event?”
“Yes, when such mythical people like yourself begin to appear, if the Lady can intervene, then you know she is intervening for a good reason. Something or someone is trying to change the course of our history. You’ll find mention of them in the archives. Major events occur more often than you think and in the most unlikely of places!”
They were interrupted by Jennery having a sneezing fit by the fire. Silene looked over. “I think we need to get your friend to bed and dose him up with a hot toddy, catch this chill before it gets worse. He’s going to have a nasty headache by the looks of him. Ari will keep an eye on him.
“See if you can eat some stew, warm you up, then I think it’s best if you rest, and we can talk more later. Sit by the fire, Cap
tain Jerrol. The heat will do you good. Reese, help Jennery to the back room,” she instructed as she walked into the kitchen to dish up the stew.
Chapter 16
Chapterhouse, Old Vespers
Taelia sat outside the Deane’s office and twisted her hands in her lap. She didn’t remember much from last night, but she did know that Torsion was home safely. That was one of her worries solved. She frowned in concern as she remembered how bitter he had sounded. Maybe his venture had not fared so well. He had been gone for many months.
She rose as she heard the door to the Deane’s office open. The Deane’s soft voice bid her enter, and she raised her chin and walked forward, her hand questing for the door frame. She stubbed her fingers as she found it and curled them around the wood. She entered the room.
The Deane spoke, her voice guiding her into the room. “Sit, Taelia.” Her hand guided her to the chair.
“Thank you, Deane,” she said, sitting in the offered chair. She heard the Deane sit and then clasp her hands on her desk.
“Taelia, do you remember what happened last night?”
A fleeting expression of bewilderment flashed across Taelia’s face. “Deane?”
“Scholar Torsion found you asleep in the courtyard. He said you were worried about Jerrol.”
Taelia stilled. Her expressive face was open and vulnerable.
“Do you remember what woke you?”
“I was frightened; something was wrong.”
“Do you know what was wrong?”
“No,” Taelia said hesitantly.
“Torsion said you were concerned for Jerrol.”
“He was hurt.” Taelia gripped her side. “I felt it.”
“Do you know where he is?”
Taelia shook her head.
“What made you go to the courtyard?”
“I needed to see the moon.”
Liliian refrained from making the obvious statement. “Why the moon?”
“The Lady was watching.”
Sentinals Awaken: Book One of the Sentinals Series Page 12
