G. Kelly - Sword and Circle

“But as one we ran to the trees, and into the woods, close together, no-one ever alone, and still we were not assailed. Chrisyan, the most senior of the Talguard, he was our leader then, he said he thought that the guardstones were broken, or were useless when the maker Salaman was abroad in the east. We all believed it. We were all desperate to believe it.

“No-one believed the stories we heard about Raheen being destroyed last year. No-one. We thought it a nonsense tale made to frighten us into remaining within the bounds of the Salaman’s guardstones. But when we saw with our own eyes the direction that the maker Salaman had taken on his beast, some of us had doubts.”

“When was this?” Gawain asked.

Jaxon frowned, thinking hard, as if so much had happened he had forgotten the passage of time. Finally, he looked up. “About two months ago. It wasn’t long after midsummer when we crossed the river, perhaps a week or ten days.”

“After we left Ferdan,” Allazar said softly, and Gawain nodded.

“Please continue,” Allazar smiled at the Gorian.

“Later that afternoon, before dusk, someone called out and pointed up through the trees, and we glimpsed the Salaman returning to Armunland. Chrisyan posted a good watch that night, and we slept our first night in freedom.

“Next morning we moved quickly. Already the rumours that the darkness had spread to the eastlands before us made us even more frightened than when we’d plunged into the river. But Chrisyan was a strong leader, he told everyone to fix their minds on the mountain, to worry about nothing except where they were putting their feet, and to keep their mouths shut lest everything bad within ten miles heard us.

“So we travelled, mostly in silence, as quickly and quietly as we could. Through woodland and grassland and in places, salt marshes where the coast approached the land. All seemed to be going so well, we forgot the threat of the darkness, we forgot the guardstones. There was even good hunting, and foraging, and soon Chrisyan allowed us a fire. He would have us dig a deep hole, put the kindling in, and light it, making sure that the flames never licked higher the rim of the hole, so it would not be seen from afar. On it we cooked the birds and small animals we had caught, and even made flat-bread from flour ground from wild grasses when they were to be had.

“We were four weeks or thereabouts in our freedom when we were woken by a cry of alarm. Chrisyan and Eyan, another of the Talguard and a good man, were dead. Their throats and bodies ripped open. We thought we had been attacked in the night by some wild beast of the eastlands, some strange wolf perhaps, though no-one had heard a thing in the night. But the next morning another of the Talguard, Steyan, was found dead too. That Grimmand you destroyed, Serre wizard, had the form of Simayen Pita, a thresherman and weaver. Poor Pita must have been the first killed, and we knew it not. We knew it not.”

Allazar sighed, his voice tinged with sadness. “The Grimmand of Sethi is a foul weapon of old, it is no surprise that Salaman Goth knew of it, and with aquamire at his disposal, would create such a monstrous thing. It was doubtless set upon your trail the moment Salaman Goth returned to his lair and discovered that the guardstones had been crossed, and that a large number of the people of Simayen had fled.”

Jaxon drew in a deep breath. “We kept moving east, kept moving towards the mountain. But we were on foot, and jumping at every noise in the wilderness. It was slow going. The Talguard were the first to be killed, and when eventually the last, Trystyan, was dead, then others amongst us began to be taken.”

Again Allazar sighed. “It would take the strongest first, they would be the biggest threat to it. The weakest it would leave ‘til last, but the leaders, they would fall soonest.” Allazar asserted, and the horror that was the Grimmand of Sethi became clearer to all at the table. “Though it is a creature of aquamire and evil it is not stupid. It knows its targets, and knows it has strength in its disguise. Terror is its ally.”

“And we were terrified, Serre wizard, of that you may be sure. Still we thought it was a beast stalking us, striking in the dead of night, taking those on watch, and always silently. Now we know why the guards never raised an alarm or so much as cried out.”

“Why should they? When approached from the safe direction, from within the camp itself, by one of their own number who had fled with them across the Eramak? Why should they be afraid or alarmed by this thresherman and weaver of a slave, bringing them a cool drink perhaps, or a bite to eat, or just a friendly word in the dark while all others slept?”

“Just so, Serres. Just so. How could we have known?”

“You couldn’t, Jaxon. And if Raheen had been even further east from the Eramak than it is, even fewer, if any of you, would have survived to tell the tale.” Allazar smiled sadly, and then leaned forward to pat the Gorian on the arm.

“Come,” he said, leaning back and picking up his staff. “I’ll walk you back to the warehouse and your people. There’s been enough talk for one night and you are tired, and deserving of your rest. Tomorrow, we shall begin our journey to Jarn, where we all sincerely hope you and your people will be permitted to rest peacefully, and regain your strength. The good people of Callodon will, I am sure, provide.”

Tyrane nodded, and they all stood to watch the wizard lead the former slave from the inn.

“Astonishing tale,” Tyrane said, thoughtfully. “And one which early on seemed to mimic the fate of our own lands, though without these winged riders.”

“Yes,” Gawain scowled, guiding Elayeen back into her chair and sitting beside her once more. “We were fortunate not to be afflicted by those. Alas our dark enemies are not so easy to spot. They walk among us, rather than fly through the air on winged beasts.”

“What do you make of ‘the darkness’ now, my lord?”

“A simple people’s name for foul creatures made by dark wizards, I suspect. I don’t like the sound of them at all. I particularly do not like the sound of these Grimmands. The only thing I noticed odd about it was that it didn’t seem to blink.”

“I did not notice anything out of the ordinary about the thing at all,” Tyrane said, gazing at Elayeen, but saying nothing about her miraculous marksmanship. “If you have no orders for me, my lord, I need to give a last briefing to the sergeant and the corporal ready for tomorrow’s departure.”

“No, thank you, Captain Tyrane. We won’t be leaving at dawn, we’ll give our unexpected guests the chance of sleeping in. I think if we aim to depart mid-morning, unless you need a later start?”

“No, my lord. Mid-morning will suit. In truth, I think we’ll all be happier to leave here than we’ll be sorry to depart.”

“Yes, Tyrane, I know the feeling.”

The captain took his leave as Allazar returned, the staff seeming to light his way.

“Well, my lady, Longsword. What do you make of Jaxon’s tale?” the wizard said softly in the lamplight, refilling their mugs.

“I’d say that Goria had a worse time of the Ramoth than we did.” Gawain mumbled. “Why is that, do you think?”

Allazar sat, and sighed. “I suspect Morloch has been at work in the Empire far longer than he has here, Longsword. You yourselves saw Salaman Goth, the aquamire keeping that wretched creature alive all these many hundreds of years. It wouldn’t surprise me, my friends, were I to learn that Salaman Goth was one of the original traitors who turned their backs upon the brethren in the darkest of elder times.”

“Is that possible?” Gawain gasped, “Could more of those ancient wizards have survived south of the Teeth?”