G. Kelly - Sword and Circle

“What do you think is important, Longsword?” Allazar asked quietly.

“The sword. And the circle. And the shadows. Edwyn was only fourteen years old and the sword was probably bigger than him at the time he drew it and cut that Goth-lord practically in two. You’ve seen me wield it too. And you saw the look on Morloch’s face when he found out who I am.”

After a few moments of thoughtful silence, Gawain announced he’d take first watch, and his companions lay down to sleep. Gawain drew his blanket tighter around his shoulders, then rubbed his hands, feeling the softness of the new-healed skin of his palms, bringing the memory of Ferdan flooding to the forefront of his thoughts once more:

Gawain flipped the blade in a lazy arc as Morloch extended his hands, and then he plunged the longsword deep into the floor, through the planking at the centre of the circle, and down into the soft rich earth of Juria beneath.

The beam of black light linking the Sword of Justice to the dying wizard suddenly surged, blasting through the wizard's body and back again, to reflect off the weapon's hilt still clutched by Gawain, now on his knees, staring at Morloch.

"Gawain!" Elayeen cried again, Jerryn and Sarek clinging to her, holding her back, while Allazar continued to chant, raising a protective glow around the centre of the circle.

There was a sudden stillness as Gawain closed his eyes, and then he opened them, and the trapped energy of strange aquamire held within the blade and himself blasted from the hilt of the longsword and ripped into the shimmering cloud, smashing into Morloch, blasting him back into the wall of his stone tower far beyond the Teeth.

Gawain sighed as the shimmering image rippled, watching as Morloch, like himself, now on his knees, stared back at him in shock, and pain, and fear…

"Impossible…" Morloch gasped, a black liquid oozing from his mouth. "…It cannot be! You cannot be Raheen!"

The image faded, and was gone, and all was silent, the air filled with the smell of oceans.

Oh yes, Gawain thought grimly, turning his gaze to the darkness in the north, I am Raheen.

As the crowns of Raheen and their wizard continued their haste south in the general direction of the once-thriving market town of Jarn, familiar territory for Gawain, they were cautious also to continue avoiding all habitation. But as they neared the vicinity of the Callodon town where Gawain had once stood side by side with Tallbot, guardsman of the protectorate of Jarn, Allazar became not only his old dignified and wizardly self, but also increasingly fretful. It was while they were walking their horses through a sparse copse of spindly trees and eating lunch on the move that the wizard finally gave vent to his discomfort.

“Longsword. Jarn is less than a day’s ride now. We could be there shortly before dark, few would see us arrive and the hour would yet be respectable enough to acquire bed and board at an inn of good repute.”

“True,” Gawain agreed pleasantly enough. “But last time I passed through there, the inn was closed and boarded up, the people cowed, the market deserted. Besides, the sooner we get to Raheen, the better. We don’t know what spies Morloch may have lurking there in Jarn, looking for us. It was held by the Ramoth for a long time before I fired their tower.”

“Spies?” Elayeen asked, surprised, “Looking for us?”

Gawain blinked, taken aback by her question. “Yes, mithroth, looking for us.”

“Why would they be looking for us?”

“Indeed,” Allazar interjected, “Especially since you told everyone at the King’s Council in Ferdan where we are bound. Our destination was hardly a secret when we left.”

“Knowing where we are going is one thing, knowing which route we are taking quite another.”

Elayeen seemed unconvinced. “But since the Council at Ferdan saw all, saw Morloch himself and the treachery of wizards, and knows the truth of the impending assault from the north, why should spies be searching for us?”

“You think me over-cautious?”

Elayeen stopped and eyed her husband as if gauging his mood. “I had thought,” she said quietly, “That we had been avoiding habitation for the sake of speed alone. Not through fear of some kind of reprisals, miheth.”

“It’d be wisest to assume that since Morloch fears me so, he has a reason to continue his efforts to destroy me. It wasn’t the crowned heads and ambassadors of five kingdoms that the traitors at Ferdan were attempting to kill. It was you, which would achieve my death just as surely had they struck me down.”

“We know this,” Elayeen persisted, “Yet we prevailed. They sought your life to prevent you persuading Council to unite against Morloch’s armies lurking in the wilderness of the farak gorin. But that reason is no more, since all in the hall at Ferdan saw the truth for themselves. As you have said yourself, mithroth, it falls now to Rak of Tarn to forge a union between the kingdoms. If anyone is a threat to Morloch now, it is surely he, and he is safely surrounded by the honour guards of all those noble heads yet at Ferdan. Union, you said, is what Morloch fears most.”

“It is,” Gawain conceded, though feeling his frustration rising. “But he fears the Union because it will set back his plans, and prevent his armies spilling across the farak gorin to consume the southlands. Me, he fears for reasons I don’t understand, and that’s why I must take Allazar to Raheen.”

“And yet,” Allazar insisted, “We know nothing of events which may have transpired since we left Ferdan in such haste almost two months ago now. It may be that Lord Rak has already succeeded in forging a union, or it may be that catastrophe has struck and disaster is hard upon our heels. ”

“There were many wizards in Elvendere, Gawain.” Elayeen announced.

“We have come this far unscathed and unnoticed. We’ve even endured the plains with nothing but the sky for a roof and the ground beneath us for a bed and you’d cast that aside for what? A night at an inn which may yet be shuttered up and the risk of attack, all for what, some news of events we cannot possibly influence?”

“Or news of events which may reduce the need for such haste, G’wain.”

But Gawain was unmoved. “Dwarfspit and Elve’s Blood, do either of you seriously believe that in a few short weeks Rak even with all his diplomacy could bind the five kingdoms together in common purpose and raise forces enough to hold the farak gorin, never mind destroy the Morlochmen encamped in the Barak-nor? You two know the politics of these lowlands far better than I, tell me that it’s possible Rak has already succeeded. As for catastrophe and disaster hard upon our heels, it’s for a means of ending that possibility we must reach Raheen as soon as we can.”

“A means of ending that possibility?” Elayeen stood with her hands upon her hips, gazing up into his steel-grey eyes, “It’s not so long ago that Allazar and I learned our headlong rush across the plains was in answer to a vague feeling brought on by the strange aquamire which once darkened your eyes. Now you tell us it is for a means of ending catastrophe?”

Gawain stared at Elayeen, lost for words in the face of her unexpected challenge.

“And,” she continued, leaning forward a little, “What if the catastrophe lies in wait ahead of us? What if news awaits us in Jarn, news from friends and allies warning that Morloch’s forces have gathered at the foot of the Downland Pass and await our arrival? This threat you imagine may not know which route to Raheen we are taking, but since there’s only one way up to the plateau our route to it matters not a jot.”