G. Kelly - Sword and Circle

Elayeen put down the remains of her sandwich, and brushed at her tunic though no crumbs had fallen there.

“What concerns me most in all this,” Allazar almost whispered, “Is that the elder magi not only foresaw all that, but also foresaw the need to gift a wizard with knowledge and power far beyond his lowly station and education, and the need to gift an elfin with the mystic sight of her ancient forebears. It means, my friends, they foresaw that we would need them, together with the wielder of the sword, as the events of today amply demonstrate. I worry what else might lie in store for we three, that they should impose these ‘gifts’ upon us.”

With that sombre thought hanging in the air between them, Allazar left Gawain and Elayeen and trudged off down the road to the warehouse, his staff clunking heavily on the cobbles though he carried it with the same ease with which Gawain carried the Sword of Justice.

“Do you still believe Allazar to be an enemy, G’wain?” Elayeen said while he cleared the table and stacked plates picked clean upon the cracked and dusty bar.

He sighed as he sat back down beside her, dragging his chair closer so their shoulders pressed together. Taking her right hand in his left, he took a long breath. “No,” he confessed after a thoughtful silence. “It’s very hard to maintain my distrust of the one wizard in all the world that the circles on the floor of my fathers’ Hall held worthy enough to unlock that great wave. But by the Teeth, E, don’t tell him I said so. It’s bad enough him being able to set fire to the cliffs of Raheen with that stick of his without my having to endure the smug grin that’d plaster his face for months if you did.”

Elayeen smiled, and Gawain melted. “You know, apart from shooting the window, you were breathtaking.”

“The window was an accident, G’wain, and it was all Allazar’s fault for not warning me properly.”

“There you are, that’s exactly what I mean! Thank you for being on my side against the bloody whitebeard!”

And before she could protest, he kissed her.

It wasn’t long before Tyrane returned, and with a nod from Gawain sat at the table.

“Your wizard will bring this Jaxon fellow shortly, I left him in the warehouse with his staff sparkling somewhat alarmingly while he assured the refugees there were no more of these Grimmands in their number.”

“Good. From what we all saw this afternoon I think I now share your opinion about these Gorians, or refugees if that’s what they are; they’re hardly military.”

Gawain had seen Tyrane wince a little and then realised what he’d said. Elayeen, however, her arm now in his, didn’t seem to notice.

“I doubt even the most adept of spies could maintain a cover with one of those creatures lashing out next to him.” Tyrane agreed. “If these are the Gorians that your lady’s escort spoke of, then I’d say they’re not so much dressed as Callodonians, as that closeweave cloth is common to labourers on both sides of the Eramak River.”

“Yes, or the slaves taken from Pellarn simply continued making it there as they once did in the Old Kingdom. I’m sure Jaxon can tell us. But for now I’m more concerned with this ‘darkness’ he spoke of.”

“I too, my lord. I don’t know what he meant by ‘guardstones’, but I do know from the officers in the Westguard that the number of Gorians crossing into Callodon in the last twenty years is a very small number indeed.”

“I do know what guardstones are,” Gawain said, grimly, “and whatever it was they were fleeing from, it must’ve been dark indeed for so large a number to risk crossing them together.”

“Oh, my apologies, the healer has pronounced all in the Gorian party fit to travel, and having witnessed from the stables your wizard’s exploits earlier, has no objection to your lady or your wizard making the journey either.”

“Excellent. We should start for Jarn tomorrow then, and take the road slowly. How many wagons are there?”

“Two my lord, and four spare horses to draw them should all my men ride escort.”

“At least the four ladies in the Gorian party can ride in the wagons, and the men take it in turns. I think I’d like an advance party in the van, and a good rearguard, and an even better guard on the western flank.”

“I understand my lord.”

“When we reach Jarn, Captain, I’m afraid I’ll have to leave the matter of the refugees entirely to Callodon.”

“Of course. Once we arrive I’ll send word to the Castle, I’m sure arrangements can be made to provide for them. Do you and your lady intend to ride on for Elvendere, my lord?”

“Yes,” Gawain announced without hesitation, “The Council of Kings must learn of events here, and besides, we may learn some valuable insights from Simayen Jaxon that might need to be passed on.”

“I and my men would be proud to serve as escort, my lord.”

“And we proud to have you as such, Captain. Though I plan to ride hard, without pausing for the wizard to catch, cook and eat wild rabbit along the way.”

And that last was purely for the benefit of the wizard himself, who had entered the inn with Simayen Jaxon a pace or two behind.

“Ah, Longsword, you would inflict frak upon your lady so soon?” Allazar chided, but his voice was filled with warmth.

“And upon you, wizard,” Gawain scowled half-heartedly, and then turned to Jaxon. “We will be leaving here tomorrow, Serre Jaxon, for the town of Jarn, which lies north along the road. We have few supplies here and such as there are will not last long.”

At this, Jaxon looked a little uncomfortable, clearly understanding the eighteen reasons why Callodonian supplies were dwindling.

“Sit, Simayen Jaxon of Goria,” Allazar said, indicating a lonely chair which those already seated were facing.

He did so, again rather nervously, and his gaze lingered a while on Elayeen’s eyes, noting the pinpoints of her pupils and the way she held her head.

“And tell us of your journey, and of the darkness you fled Armunland to escape.” Allazar added.

And with a sigh, and a mug of ale for the sake of his voice, Simayen Jaxon began.

“The darkness is everywhere,” he said, “It began ten years ago, though there are some who say it began much further in the past. We are all from the province of Armunland, as I have said. All of us slaves, and all of us farmers, that’s what Armunland is mostly, a province of farms. Wheat, corn, pigs, cows, chickens… the land is rich and verdant, good farmland.”

Jaxon took a sip of his ale.

“I should probably say,” Gawain interrupted before he could begin again, “We don’t have much knowledge of life in Goria. Only that in the time before Pellarn was lost, slavers from the empire would cross the Eramak in search of stock for their foul trade.”

“Then that is perhaps all the knowledge that is required, good Serres. All the work is done by slaves, the overseers and Tals living in luxury. But they too are bound to the Emperor, and must give to him a portion of the wealth they acquire, a portion fixed according to the size of the province and its produce, be it food or ore or other goods.

“I don’t remember Pellarn very well, I was a young boy, perhaps four, and my family were farmers then too, working on the land to the north of the castletown. The land in Goria reminded me of that. In truth, Serres, those of us who are here don’t have much memory of our lives before we found ourselves in the fields and farms of Armunland.

“Nor was it really much different, it was said, to the life and work before the Old Kingdom fell. Up with the sun, work ‘til sunset. Don’t break the laws, don’t upset the overseers, it wasn’t so bad if you forgot your roots and as the years went on, there were fewer and fewer who spoke of fleeing east. To Raheen, they said. Always to Raheen. We could see the great flat-topped mountain in the east, especially at sunrise…