by R. E. Palmer
14. a Dark, Remembered Tale
Toryn looked anxiously at his feet as he tried not to stumble from the narrow ledge down into the ravine. To his left, the river surged through the narrow gap as if agitated by the rock’s attempt to delay its journey. At each twist, water splashed up, groping for their feet as if trying to snatch them from the cliff in its frustration. Toryn shouted to make himself heard above the gushing water. ‘It might have been better in the dark. Then I couldn’t see what’s waiting for me down below.’ He braced as another wall of water slammed into an outcrop at his feet. ‘Would have been better if the builders had made it wider.’
Hamar laughed and called back. ‘It has been. It’s easier going than when I last came this way.’
He stared down to his feet. ‘How narrow was it?’
Hamar stopped and turned. ‘It wasn’t made for big folk. I reckon it was built by the dwarfs who used to live in these parts, or perhaps even cobtrolls.’
‘This far out?’
‘We’re not far from the Kolossos range. And way back then there were settlements under the hills to the west. We found evidence of one near to where that stone used to be.’ Hamar shuffled a few more paces. ‘Ah, this will do nicely. We’ll rest here.’ He disappeared into a cove carved out of the rock. Toryn followed, happy to be off the ledge and away from the angry river. He took off his rucksack and rubbed his aching shoulders under his damp clothes.
Toryn looked behind Hamar. ‘It’s bigger than I thought, room for ten at least.’
Hamar rolled his blanket onto the floor. ‘Would have been a busy route before our kind came this far north.’ He banged his head on the low ceiling and cursed. ‘Definitely smaller than us, whoever built it.’ Hamar peered to the back of the cave. ‘Must have been cobtrolls. See, there’s a bend at the back to shelter them from sunlight. They shun the big, fiery ball in the sky.’
Toryn grinned. ‘Why? Do they burst into flames?’
‘Course not. No, it’s their eyes. Can see well in the dark, far better than you or I, but they’d be practically blind in sunlight.’
Toryn unwrapped the last fish and held it to his nose. ‘Smells alright. I’ll light a fire.’
‘I suppose that’s one advantage of it being colder. The food lasts longer. But never you mind, this time tomorrow we’ll be feasting by a roaring fireside in Greendell.’
‘And then what?’ Toryn snapped the twigs. ‘Six months of doing what I’ve been doing for years back home?’
Hamar sighed. ‘Let’s get there first, eh. This gorge forks further up, we turn right and it’s only a few hours before we reach the small plain nestling between the hills. Greendell sits right in the middle.’
Toryn made a small pile of sticks and struck the flint. He turned to Hamar. ‘Back at the Singing Stone, you said you’d seen the same writing on those rocks elsewhere. Can you remember where?’
‘Thought you’d ask.’ Hamar sat. ‘A place called Durran Wood.’ Toryn pushed a stick through the mouth of the fish. Hamar pointed to the fire. ‘Careful, not too close. You don’t want to scorch the flesh.’ He took a smoldering twig from the fire and lit his pipe. ‘The locals call it Wyke Wood.’
Toryn looked up from the flames. ‘Wyke Wood? I guess they didn’t name it after a good ‘un then.’
‘The fish, lad. Keep your eyes on the fish.’ Hamar shuddered. ‘It most certainly wasn’t. And I reckon it wasn’t one of the mischievous sods who’d cause an outbreak of boils on your backside if you didn’t pay them. No, the fiend in that wood was far worse. And still causing problems from what I hear.’
The shelter darkened. Toryn blew on the fire. ‘Is it far from here?’
‘Far enough. Stands to the south of Mawlgrim Mire. In fact, they make good neighbors. You wouldn’t want to pass the time of day in either. The wood’s a dark place, sturdy fir trees, only ones capable of growing that far north. Tall with thick growth that turns the middle of the day to night. Very dark.’ The flames flickered in Hamar’s wide eyes.
Toryn waited for him to continue, but this was a story the old man seemed reluctant to share. He pressed. ‘How did you come to be there?’
Hamar drew on his pipe ‘It happened in my second year of service. We were following up reports of the usual suspects up to no good in the area. Anyways, we found their tracks soon enough and came across a deserted campsite, right on the edge of that damned wood. But the strange thing was what the tracks told us. These rascals are easy to follow as they blunder about without a care, but’ — he frowned as if trying to work out the mystery — ‘they left their camp in one line with an equal gap between them. We counted sixteen tracks. Just lined up facing the trees and walked right in. Very unlike them. They took nothing, no weapons, supplies or equipment. We found all their provisions left behind.’
Hamar gazed at the shadows dancing on the wall. He let out a long sigh. ‘We weren’t keen about going in after them, not after what the locals had told us. Strange goings on, noises at night, livestock dying of fright, even people disappearing. They’d abandoned the settlement of Durran ten years earlier, said it was too close for comfort.’
Toryn remembered their supper. He took it from the fire, broke off a piece and handed it to Hamar. ‘How come you’ve not mentioned this before?’
Hamar placed his pipe on a rock and accepted the fish. He took a bite and watched the entrance as he chewed. ‘There are certain things you don’t want to remember. I must’ve pushed the events of that day deep down, or most of it at least. But seeing the letters on those rocks dragged it all back up. The funny thing is, I can’t say for sure what happened, we were all… changed, altered afterwards.’
‘You went into the wood? I thought you said you—’
‘We had this new captain, keen to impress his seniors, so he insisted we go in and either capture them or find their dead bodies and take evidence back with us.’ He pointed to the rucksack. ‘Pass me the flask, my mouth’s gone dry.’ Toryn realized he had a morsel of uneaten fish in his mouth. He chewed as he passed the water to Hamar. ‘Thanks.’ He took a long drink and wiped his beard. ‘We convinced our captain to wait until morning, making sure we camped a fair distance away. The following day, twelve of us go into the wood.’ He shivered. ‘Straight away it didn’t feel right. The sun shone that morning, but it grew dark once under those trees, and a chill soon crept into your bones. If there’d once been paths, the scrub had long since smothered them. Despite it being a small wood, a mere thicket compared to Foranfae down south, we feared losing our way in its shadows. So, we set markers using fallen branches to guide us back out.’ His eyes widened. ‘Then we heard the screams. I thought I’d long forgotten them. Heard nothing like it or want to hear again. At first, we thought it were children, but they’d never be in that place alone.’ His hand clenched the flask and his face paled. ‘They had to be the cries of the poor fellows we pursued. These were tough Ruuk, used to terrible hardships, living with violence, but I couldn’t imagine the suffering and pain causing them to shriek as they did.’
Hamar took another gulp from the flask and Toryn noticed his hand trembled. ‘Well, we’d heard enough. We pleaded with the captain to leave as there’d be none of them left to capture. Thankfully he agreed, vowing to come back in greater numbers later. But if we’d had a hundred men, I still wouldn’t want to face what’s lurking in them trees.’ He placed the fish bones on the floor. ‘Then the screaming stopped, but that made it worse.’
‘How?’
‘It was the silence. And we suspected whatever tormented those poor souls now came for us.’
Toryn shuddered. ‘What about the writing?’
‘I was getting to that. You see, we didn’t find our way out as intended. We followed our markers, but some mischievous imps must have moved them, leading us in circles. We wandered about for hours, becoming more uneasy and confused. Then we noticed markings scratched into the tree bark. Ruffians pass messages between themselves in such a way, but these were the same as
those on the rocks at the cave. Just to see them made you feel unwell.’
‘How did you get out?’
Hamar snapped the twig in his hand. ‘Not all of us did. And I don’t rightly know how I escaped. I can remember feeling dizzy and stumbling about and hearing whispers all around.’
Toryn’s face tingled. ‘Whispers? I heard voices back at that cave.’
‘Told you they were the same.’ Hamar held his gaze. ‘I have no memory of how, but I found myself alone among those dark trees.’ He took a deep breath. ‘Then the screaming started up again, but this time it had to be my fellow guards. I’m not proud to say….’ He swallowed. ‘I’m not proud to say I ran.’ He stroked his chin. ‘We’d trained together, fought, laughed and survived many a scrape together, but under no circumstances would I go back to help them. I ran, bumping into tree trunks, tripping over roots, but I kept going. I don’t know how long I ran, but when I eventually got out, it was already night.’
Toryn could barely speak. ‘How many escaped?’
Hamar's lips held tight. It was a full minute before he spoke. ‘Just me, my old friends, Jacken, and Tombold, the one who told me the story of the Archon.’ His head dropped. ‘We lost nine, including the captain.’ He ran his hands down his face. ‘That explains why we felt funny the other night. Those markings are an incantation, I’m sure of it, casting its devilry on that poor Singing Stone.’
Toryn added more wood to the fire. Hamar’s shadow loomed large on the back wall of the shelter. ‘Did you ever find out what was in those trees?’
‘No, and I don’t care to know.’
‘The guards sent no one to find out?’
‘Didn’t have the men to spare. The locals don’t go near it, and the new maps mark Durran and the wood as unsafe. The Caerwal Gate takes priority, always has, and if whatever is in those trees, stays in those trees, command won’t waste any more men.’
The hair on the back of Toryn’s neck prickled. ‘But the words on those rocks? Don’t that prove whatever is in those trees now ventures outside its borders?’
15. in the Archon’s Wisdom
Elodi’s rested her hand on the cool stone, drawing comfort from the thickness of the wall. She could easily lay down on the sill and her head would still not touch the window frame. She tried to ease the tension in her shoulders, but the Archon’s confidence troubled her. Not more than a league from where she stood, an immense force mustered with the sole aim to ruin and enslave the good people of the Five Realms. Could the Archon and his armies break through and defeat them? Or would opening the gate hasten their doom? She looked out of her window to the forest. The moon brushed the treetops with a silver coating, but if sunlight failed to penetrate the thick canopy, the mere light of the moon would not persuade Foranfae to give up her secrets.
Elodi sat on the ledge and leaned back against the cool wall. If an ancient power existed amongst the trees of Foranfae, they needed it now. Surely, all their lands would fall in a matter of months, if not weeks, should the enemy overwhelm Archonholm. The lucky would die in the onslaught, leaving the unfortunate survivors to suffer a life of thralldom at the cruel hands of the Golesh. Her stomach knotted. And what of her? She forced down the panic rising in her throat and stroked the stone of the ledge. She had to be strong for the people of Harlyn. The magnificent, yet aging walls of Calerdorn would buy them little time to flee against a determined attack. Even if they could set sail, would they find shores unknown on an unpredictable and unforgiving sea? Elodi closed her eyes and imagined the sound of the waves crashing against the rocks far beneath her room in the walls of Calerdorn. She shuddered. As the ruler of Harlyn, Elodi’s foes would have devised an unpleasant, drawn-out end for her. The seas may be treacherous, but she would sooner take her chances and risk the currents dragging her to their depths than allow the enemy to take her alive.
The tap at the door woke Elodi. She had not been aware she had dozed, but it had been a long day and she must have curled up on the stone sill and let sleep take her. She rose and went to the door. ‘Who is it?’
Her aide spoke. ‘Lord Broon is here to see you, ma’am.’
She buttoned her gown and opened the door. The man stood by Bardon. He cleared his throat. ‘The Lord assured me you would see him at this hour.’
‘Yes, by all means.’ Elodi stepped aside. ‘Please, do come in, Lord Broon.’ She turned to her aide. ‘Thank you, and, please can you ensure we are not disturbed.’ He bowed and closed the door.
Bardon’s eyebrows rose. ‘I see the Archon gave you one of the finer rooms. Perhaps he is keen to impress.’
‘It is somewhat luxurious compared to home, but I can’t think why the Archon would want to impress me.’
‘Oh, he has his ways. He never won your father over fully, so I suspect he’s keen to gain your unquestioned support.’
Elodi ushered him to a chair by the window. ‘Would you care for a bite to eat, or something to drink? I could have my maid prepare us a late supper.’
‘Wine will suffice, thank you. I’ve eaten too much today.’ He patted his stomach. ‘Not used to the portions here, become too accustomed to rationing at Keld.’
‘I noticed there appears to be no shortage of food and drink in the south.’ She poured two glasses of red wine and sat opposite. ‘Have you had time to consider the Archon’s strategy?’
Bardon gazed into the dark liquid in his glass. ‘I agree with him on one matter.’ He took a sip and rolled it around his mouth before swallowing. ‘I doubt the Golesh will expect to see our ships sailing up their bay, but whether it will work is entirely a different matter.’ He met Elodi’s gaze. ‘How about you?’
She swirled the wine in her glass. ‘Father taught me about tactics and strategy, and of course I have Wendel and Captain Aldorman to assist with the daily skirmishes involving Harlyn’s reserves, but an invasion fleet is way beyond my experience, and Wendel’s for that matter. But my primary concern is the opening of the gate. For centuries it has kept them out, and despite what the Archon says of their weapons, I’d rather we placed our faith in its strength and keep it shut fast.’
Bardon drained his glass. ‘It does seem a high-risk strategy with too many critical components. Should the ships fail to reach their destination, or the expeditionary force not win through to Elmarand, or even if they succeed, can they capture and then hold the city?’ He stood and walked to the window. ‘And, as you say, is the Archon wise to open the gate? What if these seeds of doubt he promises to sow, cannot find fertile soil amongst the Golesh?’
Elodi nodded. ‘And what if they choose not to send numbers south to retake Elmarand? Do they value the old capital? It could be a burned-out ruin for all we know.’
Bardon’s shoulders dropped. ‘Too many assumptions for my liking. If the Archon opens the gate and is confronted by a full-strength enemy, what chances do we have of keeping them out if a third of our force, the elites at that, are stranded in the south?’ He rested his hand against the wall and turned back to Elodi. ‘What strength do you command in Harlyn?’
Elodi stood and went to his side. ‘Just shy of two thousand, but barely five hundred of those could be described as soldiers. The rest are mostly farmers or from the trades.’
‘And how long to muster the full reserve?’
‘About a week. The beacons can send the call in an hour, but those in the south of the realm can take days on foot. But’ — she put her hand to her mouth — ‘the command brings them to Calerdorn to be allocated to the borders. That’s where the threat traditionally manifests. But if we have to defend the south, we’ll need a new signal.’
‘It’s the same for Broon. We may have a larger army, but again, they’re ready to head north. If the Archon can’t hold the assault at the gate, and then loses the bridge, the enemy will simply split its force, strike up either side of the Kolossos and conquer each of us at will. Alone we are not strong enough to defend, but if we join forces with Kernlow and Galabrant and send our forces south to
confront the Golesh, we leave the north open.’ He leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes. ‘We find ourselves in a difficult position.’
Elodi took a deep breath. ‘One matter still puzzles me, something the Archon has failed to mention.’
Bardon opened his eyes. ‘Yes, I too noticed. Am I to assume you refer to who leads the Golesh?’
She nodded. ‘He talks of the hordes and their unruly nature, but if he believes they pose such a threat, surely they have a leader to devise and command the invasion?’
‘And I would stake all the riches of Broon, granted, that’s no fortune these days, it’s the same leader responsible for splitting the Seven Realms, and’ — his face paled — ‘had the power to summon the drayloks.’
Elodi froze. She recalled the embroidered gold and red braids depicting the flames spurting from their cavernous mouths. ‘I… I thought the tapestry was a work of art, and the hags more of a symbol than for real. You said…’
Bardon slumped. ‘I’m afraid I wasn’t entirely honest with you. And for that, I offer my apologies. I used to think the same as you. Then it became a hope, then a desperate wish they were from the weaver’s imagination.’ He sighed. ‘But now…?’
She stared at him. ‘You’re saying the tapestry is accurate? These creatures are—?’
