‘We need to get out of here before the others turn up with reinforcements. Get Uldini and our equipment and I’ll meet you in the stable’.
Ahren had a hundred questions but he knew that now was not the time to ask them. He hurried to their room, but the wizard had already packed and was coming towards him, heaving the heavy bundle of equipment behind him.
The young Forest Guardian wanted to say something but Uldini cut him off. ‘Don’t waste your breath, we’ve been discovered, that much is clear’.
They both raced down the stairs and towards the stable, leaving open-mouthed guests in the taproom staring after them in disbelief as they thundered past with their heavy equipment.
Falk was already there and saddled Selsena while Culhen kept watch at the entrance. Their new animals were waiting for them and they quickly loaded them with their equipment. Finally Ahren swung himself uncertainly onto the saddle and Falk looked at him in consternation.
‘I’ll take your reins, we have to get out of here quickly and I don’t want to have to keep picking you up or searching for you’, he said with determination.
They left the stables and trotted towards the northern gate. Ahren, who felt as if he were a child again, hanging onto the saddle while Falk led him by the reins, asked the question that had been vexing him.
‘What happened there exactly?’
‘I found this on your friend with the knife’, said his master tersely and pressed the crumpled parchment in his hand. He unfolded it clumsily as he hopped up and down in the saddle.
It appeared to be some kind of official document, many lines, often with complicated words. He was somewhat skilled at the art of reading but as he was still unpractised, it took him a while to understand it completely. The top half gave physical descriptions of Uldini, Falk and himself, and underneath it stated that they were imposters who had robbed the merchant guilds of several thousand gold thalers.
‘It’s an arrest warrant!’ gasped Ahren loudly.
Falk turned to him with a scornful look and pulled the parchment out of his hand.
‘Why don’t you speak up a bit, the town watch didn’t hear you’, he said sarcastically. Luckily, they had already passed the northern gate and there were no other travellers in the vicinity.
Ahren spoke in a quieter voice, ‘but why is there an arrest warrant for us? And who wrote it?’
‘‘Why’ is simple’, answered Uldini. ‘A Transformer had it issued to make life difficult for us’.
Ahren winced. Transformers were the first beings He, whe moulds had created – without the backing of his siblings. According to legend they were grotesque, ever-changing creatures, who couldn’t hold onto any appearance for long. Appalled by their fate, they willingly aligned themselves with Him, who forces. In return for their services, he forced them into whatever physical shape suited him at the time. There were hundreds of horror stories about them. They were far and away the most powerful and fearsome weapons in the Betrayer’s arsenal. Ahren was greatly disturbed by the thought that one of their number had brought unwelcome attention onto the travel party.
‘The merchant guilds issued the arrest warrants’, added Uldini matter-of-factly. ‘A clever move if you ask me. Their arrest warrants are less powerful than regional documents but they’re valid in all the kingdoms. We’ll have reached the Knight Marshes in two days but that won’t be much help to us’.
‘And now?’ asked Falk darkly. ‘I suppose we can forget our plan to join up with a group of travelling merchants’.
The wizard nodded. ‘I’d forget about that idea. One of the Ancients should have a look among the guilds. If the Transformer is still there, which I very much doubt, that will flush him out. Until then we’d be better continue on our own’.
They travelled the rest of the morning in contemplative silence. Falk handed the reins back to Ahren so that he could learn to direct the horse by himself. With the midday son beating down on them, Ahren asked, ‘why does the Adversary want to stop us already? Would it not make more sense to wait until my Naming, when the magic spell is lifted?’
Uldini looked at him out of the corner of his eye before continuing his catnap. Falk answered, ‘if you die now, He, who forces has enough time to wake up, because it took the gods over seven hundred years to replace the last Paladin with you. But it’s also true that the longer we take to appoint you, the quicker the Adversary will awaken from his long Sleeping Bane. He can feed off the powers of the thirteenth Paladin, which were released when you were selected, and gain strength from them until they are embedded within you. Your powers are connected to the Pall Pillar, which means that the two of you are bound together. This binding will only be cut when you have been named’.
Now Uldini opened his eyes and looked earnestly at the young man. ‘He will wake up more quickly if your power is diverted, and we must prevent this at all costs. The channels between you and the Bane Spell are at their most permeable during equinox, when day and night are equal length. He can suck out a particularly large amount at that time. If we manage to appoint you before the next Spring Festival, we will have a time-scale of two or three years before He, who forces rises up. If we manage it before this Autumn Festival, we will have perhaps even half a dozen years. If we need more than one year…’ His voice trailed off and he didn’t finish the sentence. Once again there was quiet as they sat on their saddles, each one lost in their own thoughts.
‘Why didn’t you collect me this morning?’ asked Ahren finally, breaking the silence.
‘We noticed the good-for-nothings, who were watching us and were waiting for the right moment to catch one of them and question him or her’, answered Falk. You were in safe hands at the armourer’s, so we left you there. None of us thought that you’d wander through the city on your own’.
Somehow it didn’t surprise Ahren that he was being blamed again. So he changed the subject.
‘What did the dwarf say to you yesterday?’
His master sat up straight and addressed his commentary to Uldini as well as Ahren. ‘The disputes among the knights have increased and some very extreme views have been surfacing in the recent past. They don’t want any elves or dwarves in the kingdom – complete nonsense really. And the trade between King’s island and Silver Cliff has almost ground to a halt. It’s good that we’re only skirting Knight Marshes on our journey.
It’s no coincidence’, mumbled Uldini. This much is certain, the agents of the Adversary are trying to foment unrest. A squabbling enemy is an enemy defeated’.
And with that they all fell into a brooding silence.
At dusk they sought out a little wood on the side of the road where they set up camp for the night. Ahren was sore from riding and so he was delighted when Falk ordered him to practise his sword-fighting exercises while he prepared the evening meal.
Uldini was staring into his crystal ball which was floating and emitting a weak light, and he seemed to be speaking to one of the Ancients. Although Falk was not familiar with the Windblade, he had a good general idea of the feints and foot positions needed and he didn’t tire of pointing out every tiny mistake Ahren made. By the time it was dark, every muscle in Ahren’s body was aching and he was only too happy to lie down.
He was asleep in no time at all and woke up the next day after a succession of nightmares in which he was chased by a ragtag of figures with knives and swords, who were constantly changing their forms. He was happy to be free from his dreams until Falk tossed a bundle of practice arrows at his feet and told him to tie them to his horse. Ahren got up with a groan at the realization that this was going to be another long day. They rode silently over the flat farming land that made up the northern border of Hjalgar. They stopped unexpectedly in the late afternoon and turned off the road to find shelter in some heavy woodland.
Falk began to polish up his armour and ordered Ahren to do the same with Selsena’s plating. They scrubbed off the grey coating and polished the whitish material until it was sparkling bright
, and Uldini changed his clothes. His silk robe disappeared into his rucksack and he put on expensive linen clothing instead, before slipping a tabard over it. The tabard was decorated with a falcon perched on a stone. The rock glowed in the conventional black and gold of the the Knight Marshes.
Falk took from the saddlebag the mysterious bundle that he had always stored in his trunk in their cabin. From it he carefully removed a similar tunic, which he now passed to Ahren. The material was thick and heavy and smelt musty. Ahren slipped the unfamiliar clothing over his head. He wriggled around and tugged at it until it was sitting properly on him. In the meantime Falk had slipped on a heavy gold signet ring on his finger. It was set with an onyx stone and displayed the same crests as on their clothing.
All this was amazing to Ahren, but what happened next really took his breath away. His master actually took out a comb and began to comb his hair and beard in a most fastidious fashion. Ahren burst out laughing at the sight, and not even his master’s warning looks could stop him. It was only when Uldini gave him a warning look and shook his head that the young man could contain himself again.
The results of their efforts were impressive. Falk’s white armour shimmered in a brightness that was mother-of-pearl, as did Selsena’s, and the Elven-horse conveyed her happiness in waves to her companions. Falk’s broadsword was now hanging between his shoulder blades and his bow was now on Selsena’s saddle. The more Falk tidied up his appearance, the more authoritative he appeared. When his master was finally finished, Ahren saw a transformation in front of him. It was still Falk, but he was now every inch the knight. Uldini resembled a liveried retainer. And then the two of them set about working on Ahren. They pulled and prodded, they polished his leathers, they even combed his hair.
He felt deeply uncomfortable and embarrassed, while Culhen sat in front of him, and seemed to be laughing at him with his tongue hanging out. That was, until he was subjected to the same treatment and made to look prim and proper by the two of them. Ahren had to carry his sword open on his back too, with his bow fixed to his saddle.
Finally they were ready and once they had ridden from the shadow of the trees and into the early summer sunshine they presented a breath-taking sight. Falk was riding alone on Selsena, Uldini on the the saddled-up pack horse. His master and the Titejunanwa glistened in the afternoon light and looked for all the world like the dashing figures in a heroic saga. Instead of sitting hunched and humdrum on the saddle, the old man was sitting bolt upright like a knight on his warhorse. Ahren could only stare in wonder and Uldini laughed out loud.
‘That’s enough, Falk. Judging by the boy’s open jaw, it’s effective enough to get us over the border easily. Good that you’re here again!’
The old Forest Guardian flared into existence again for an instant as Falk answered angrily, ‘I’m not here again!’
Then he rode ahead in measured steps and the others followed the would-be knight on the road.
Uldini talked to Ahren all the way to the border, advising him on the role he was to play. He would be Falk’s page.
I’m still the apprentice, even in disguise, he thought bitterly.
At last they arrived at a run-down wooden hut, which was Hjalgar’s border post. Two border guards, sitting under an awning, squinted at them with tired and bored eyes and waved them through without bothering to get up.
‘That was the easy part’, mumbled the wizard and nodded his head in the direction they would follow. Wooden posts were stuck into the ground on either side of the road, presenting two undulated lines to a distance of several hundred paces in either direction. These had to be the border stakes. Beyond the border stood a high square stone tower, reaching at least ten paces into the sky. It was crenellated on top and there were at least three crossbowmen watching them in a relaxed yet attentive manner. There were three armoured guards on either side of the road, all equipped with heavy halberds. Swords were hanging from their belts. The crest of the Knight Marshes hung on a large banner from the tower, a golden crown on a black background surrounded by a circle of many dozens of small, golden, square shields.
They were still three paces away when one of the guards – and judging by the plume of feathers on his helmet, he was probably the head guard – shouted out in a booming voice, ‘halt in the name of Senius Blueground, king of the Knight Fens, and name your purpose!’
Uldini responded in a voice equally loud and in an arrogant tone, ‘Dorian Falkenstein, knight and Lord of Castle Falkenstein wishes to visit his homeland’.
The words had no sooner been uttered when the guards hopped to attention and their commander said, ‘but of course. A thousand apologies that I didn’t recognize you immediately. Have a good journey on the roads of Knight Marshes’.
The border guards saluted as they rode by and as soon as they were beyond the row of ironclad men, Ahren heard animated whispering behind him.
Falk maintained his lordly pose but there was a frown on his face.
‘I knew it was a bad idea. They recognised the name’, he hissed.
‘Of course they did. We’re in the Knight Marshes, they love their stories. Lots of names might have been forgotten elsewhere, but not here’, answered Uldini calmly. ‘We’ve gone through this already. The arrest warrants only have the name Falk, the Forest Guardian. This was the quickest and safest way of getting in. Your name would have surfaced sometime anyway, so at least we controlled when and how’.
‘Master?’ asked Ahren, who couldn’t contain himself any longer. ‘Are you really a knight?’
Falk sighed and answered in a weary voice, ‘I was a knight once. Then I didn’t want to be one anymore’.
At these words a wave of cold rage rolled through Ahren’s inside and Selsena gave a loud and shrill neigh.
It must have been Falk’s decision that had angered her so much and that was why she had stayed away from him for all those years. ‘Not now’, said Falk firmly and the feeling of anger ebbed away, to some extent anyway.
‘I went to the elves and at some point became a Forest Guardian. The best decision of my life, and even this stubborn woman here will have to admit that it did me some good over the years’.
There was no response from Selsena but Falk smiled and patted her neck while Uldini said to Ahren, ‘welcome to the Knight Marshes’.
Chapter 16
Ahren had expected a completely different world when they first entered the neighbouring kingdom. There were no kings, armies or heroes in Hjalgar, there were only bailiffs, village councils and city administrators. Which meant that any stories that reached Deepstone and told of the knights of this kingdom were full of magic and adventure.
After half a day’s travelling Ahren’s expectations were wearing thin. The trade road was laid with large stone slabs, and now and again they would spot a defiant castle or a moated tower soaring into the sky, but apart from those, it was row after row of farms. There were many border poles with different coats of arms proudly displayed on them, and any farmers that they saw seemed considerably poorer than their counterparts in Deepstone.
When he asked the reason for this, it was Uldini who answered, while Falk clenched his teeth and stared stubbornly straight ahead. ‘It’s because of all the fiefdoms and their knights and followers. In Hjalgar the farmer tills his field, he gathers the harvest and gives a few coins to the village council, and he keeps the rest for himself. Here twenty or thirty farmers are supporting at least as many liege men and women, also the knights of the fiefdom. And they also have to cough up the tithes that their feudal lord has to give to the king. There’s not much left over for themselves’.
Falk was scowling now and was on the point of interrupting but Uldini continued quickly, ‘on the other hand, there are hardly any brigands or other riffraff and Dark Ones are extremely rare here. Apart from the skirmishes between the knights, the Knight Marshes is one of the safest places in the world – as long as you obey the laws’.
The old man seemed placated and nodded. Ge
nerally speaking his master had been very distant since they had set foot in the Knight Marshes, and it wasn’t just in the way he was behaving and moving. He was also less communicative than before. Ahren decided to put off asking further questions.
He looked at the bundle of practice arrows he had had to take with him and wondered how the arrows fitted into the disguise.
The old man saw what he was looking at and grumbled, ‘they’re for practising, not looking at. See if you can hit that tree trunk over there’.
Ahren looked in surprise and unfastened the bow. He had to spend the rest of the afternoon shooting at different targets while his mare walked on contentedly. Shooting arrows on horseback was a completely new experience, and because Ahren lacked practice and was not a talented rider, he fell from his saddle several times and missed more often than hit the targets. Culhen, on the other hand, enjoyed the game, running playfully after each arrow. He brought most of them back and that evening Ahren calculated that there were only ten fewer arrow than there had been at noon.
They rested in a hostelry and Ahren was sent to the courtyard to do his sword practice while his master looked on and corrected him. This looked like an everyday occurrence to the locals, with the knight training his page, and so they fitted in nicely with their surroundings. Their training method hadn’t changed much, except for their clothing, and Falk was even more critical and stricter in his judgments and in his analysis than he had been before.
And so they continued for the next ten days, the little group moving further into the country, steadily following the path towards the northwest. During the day Ahren would train in shooting with bow and arrow from the horse and in the evening he would continue with swordsmanship. There was very little talk and Uldini would often retreat with his crystal ball in the evenings so he could speak to the Ancients alone. One evening Ahren cornered the master wizard in the hallway of the hostelry in which they were spending the night and asked him sheepishly, ‘why is Falk so overbearing towards me and why is he so silent? Have I done something wrong?’
Ahren- the 13th Paladin Page 25
