G. Kelly - Sword and Circle

Once again Gawain rummaged in the wizard’s bag, and retrieved a stub of a pencil not much longer than his thumb. He handed this to Allazar who promptly wrote:

I understand everything you say

“Well if that’s true, Allazar, understand this: you’ve been hurt, a head injury. Your words are mostly meaningless to all of us, the healer is concerned for your brains and you are to remain in this bed until some kind of sense returns. Do you understand that, wizard, or am I going too fast for you?”

Allazar simply underlined his first sentence.

“Oh. Well then, Elayeen is blind. I… I don’t know how to comfort her, Allazar. I try, but… the circle has robbed her not only of sight, but also the elven throth that was between us. There is no longer any black in her hair, nor mine. We smote Morloch, Allazar, we smote him so hard, but now, I do not know what to do…”

Wait Allazar scribbled urgently.

“You think it temporary? You saw something in the runes? You have some knowledge?”

Wait

“Dwarfspit, Allazar, wait for what?”

Suddenly the wizard snapped his head to the right, past Gawain sitting on the bed, and stared at the blank wall, clutching the staff tighter as though fearing its imminent theft. His eyes rolled back in his head and he mumbled something incoherent. After a few moments, his senses seemed to return, and he scribbled hastily again.

I hear voices they talk to me filling my head

“What voices, Allazar? Whose? I hear nothing, see nothing.”

They are not for you to hear remember the circle

“Remember what about the circle?” Gawain reached down to grip the wizard’s arm, “Dwarfspit Allazar I need you! Elayeen needs you! What are you trying to tell me?”

Great sorrow seemed to wash over the wizard’s face, and then pity, and finally great frustration before he drew in a shuddering breath and wrote in the notebook once more:

Adjectives

“I don’t understand.”

This time Allazar simply drew two bold underlines beneath the word ‘wait’.

“Easy for you to say, you one-eyed mumbling whitebeard bastard. You’re not the one who caused all this.”

But Allazar jerked again, staring this time to the left, his eyes wide, and he seemed to struggle to speak. Finally he managed three words:

Friyenheth Ceartus Omniumde!

And then he sighed, his eyes rolled back, and he mumbled, and slept.

Gawain waited a while, watching the wizard mumbling in his sleep, clutching the staff and the notebook, the pencil lying on the sheets by Allazar’s right hand. Gawain picked it up, gently took the notebook and read the scribbled messages the wizard had scrawled. Wait, with its double underline, gave him great cause for hope, as did the fact that Allazar clearly did understand all that was being said in the common tongue around him. At least he did until the strange ‘voices’ seemingly drew him away from this world.

He tucked the pencil into the spine of the notebook, and then wedged the book itself between the wizard’s left arm and his chest, so it would be to hand when Allazar next woke, should he need it.

Feeling completely at a loss, Gawain decided he should tell Elayeen what had occurred, and the wizard’s instructions to ‘wait’. That one word suddenly seemed to possess great importance for the King of Raheen, particularly when a vision of his beloved inching blindly towards the crumbling edge of the cliffs of the Sea of Hope pressed unbidden to the forefront of his mind.

He left the sleeping wizard and returned to his own room, only to find Elayeen standing this time in the corner to the left of the door, facing the wall like a naughty child in school.

“Elayeen…”

“Hush.”

“What?”

“Hush. Take off your boots and don’t say a word.”

“May I know why?”

“Which part of ‘hush’ don’t you understand, G’wain?”

Filled with the conviction that the strange madness which had befallen Allazar in the circle had now spread to his beloved, Gawain simply did as he was told, and pulled off his boots to stand quietly by the door in his stockinged feet.

“Have you done it?”

Gawain didn’t answer.

“Have you done it, Gawain?” Elayeen asked again, sternly.

“Which part of ‘hush’ don’t you understand?” Gawain grumbled. “Yes, I have.”

“Good. Now. As silently as possible I want you to move and go and stand somewhere in the room. I will count to five, slowly, and then I will turn, and try to point my finger at you. If I succeed, you will say ‘yes’, and that’s all. And then we shall proceed again. Is that clear?”

Gawain’s heart lurched. “Your sight is returning!” he gasped.

But Elayeen let out an angry sigh and balled her fists. “G’wain please, just do as I say I beg you!”

“Sorry… I’m sorry. Of course.”

“You remember what you have to do? It’s important, you mustn’t make a sound.”

“Yes.”

Elayeen began counting. Feeling distinctly idiotic but with the word wait blazing in his mind’s eye, Gawain lifted his knees and crept silently, though somewhat comically, to stand by the window.

“…Five.” Elayeen finished. Then she turned away from the corner to face into the room. Her head swivelled slowly, her wide-eyed gaze sweeping the entire room, and then to Gawain’s astonishment and delight, she lifted her right arm, and pointed towards him.

“Yes!” he called, “But you were a bit to the right!”

“Just ‘yes’ G’wain! Hush! Dwarfspit, please!”

“Sorry.” Gawain whispered as Elayeen turned to face into the corner again.

“One…” she began, and Gawain happily tip-toed back across the room to stand in the corner opposite Elayeen. But the sword strapped across his back scraped the stonework of the fireplace as he turned to look at his lady and she cried out in frustration.

“ Vayen vakin Denthas! Can you not do this one simple thing!”

Gawain could hear the frustration and anguish in her voice and hurried to her, hastily unslinging the sword and casting it on to the bed before gently grasping her shoulders. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry Elayeen, miheth, it was the sword, I’ve taken it off, look, there, it’s on the bed…”

But that, of course helped not a jot, and she let out a sob, turning to pound on his chest with both fists. He drew her close and held her until her anger and frustration slowly waned. A little.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered again. “Truly.”

“Then you’ll play the game properly now?” she sniffed.

“Game?”

“I don’t know what else to call it.”

“Yes, I’ll do it properly, I swear by my love for you.”

Elayeen sniffed again and wiped her eyes, drew back and then turned to face the corner once more.

“One…” she sighed, and at once, as silently as he could, Gawain crept away from her.

Five times Elayeen turned and five times raised her finger, and five times Gawain uttered an astonished ‘Yes’. Then, on the sixth occasion, with hope pounding in his heart, a sudden doubt made him stop before he reached the corner of the room to Elayeen’s right, and he crouched, as silent as if he were back at the farak gorin with black riders pursuing him. Then he lay down, almost at Elayeen’s feet.

“…Five.” She announced, turning as before, and as before, swung her head from side to side. She swivelled her hips slightly and started to raise her hand towards the window, the evening sunshine beaming through it, but then she stopped, and cocked her head this way and that.

Finally, after scanning the room once more, she smiled, and looked down, and pointing at Gawain said quietly, “Dwarfspit and Elve’s Blood, my King is a sneaky cheat.”