Roger Taylor - Whistler

‘Now,’ he said, turning his back on the emptiness and facing his companions, ‘in case the weather has any more surprises for us we’d better decide what to do next. I don’t want to leave without a determined search for Cassraw, but the ground’s much steeper and rougher from here on and there’s precious little in the way of a clearly marked path. We could miss him easily enough and we could end up in difficulties ourselves. And I’m concerned about the temperature.’

‘What was Cassraw wearing?’ someone asked.

Vredech grimaced. There were no real choices ahead after all. ‘Just what he stormed out of the Debating Hall in. No top coat, cloak, nothing.’

‘Then some of us will have to go on,’ Horld announced. ‘The darkness is a bad enough problem, but if it keeps on getting colder then Cassraw’s soon going to be in very serious trouble, tough though he is.’

‘You’re right,’ Vredech said. He looked at the group, wishing that he could see their faces, read their thoughts. ‘While there’s still some visibility we’ll have to go on.’

‘I don’t think I can go much further,’ Morem confessed. ‘That gulley was quite a struggle.’

‘We’ll split up,’ Vredech said, laying a reassuring hand on his shoulder. ‘Horld and I still have some wind left. We’ll go on to the summit. The rest of you stay here and try to keep warm. Listen for any sound of Cassraw coming back in case we miss him.’

There was no dissent.

‘Are you all right?’ Horld said softly as they moved away from the group and began cautiously working their way over the shattered rocks that would lead them to the summit.

‘I’m fine,’ Vredech said. ‘Not happy, not warm and not comfortable, but fine for all that.’

Horld grunted. ‘That was a very strange turn you had before,’ he said.

‘It’s a strange day,’ Vredech replied evasively.

‘There’s no denying that,’ Horld agreed. ‘What do you think happened to Cassraw to send him off like that?’

Vredech shrugged his shoulders unhappily. He did not want to discuss Cassraw’s behaviour. Indeed, he did not want to discuss anything. Once his thoughts started to run he was far from certain that he would be able to contain them. It was only the physical discipline involved in struggling over the rocks in the darkness that was keeping a torment of his own at bay. But still, he must reply.

‘I’ve no idea,’ he said. ‘He’s always been rather… intense. Perhaps it’s the problems he’s been having with his flock. Some of them are a bit of a pain, and he takes things to heart much more than people realize.’

‘I said at the time that I thought he was too young for the Haven parish,’ Horld fretted. ‘It’s a big responsibility. He should’ve served a year or two more as a Chapter Member before coming to anything like that.’

There was nothing new in Horld’s comments. He was quite conservative in his thinking and although he himself had only been a little longer in the church than Cassraw, he was cautious, even suspicious, of younger men coming along too quickly. But he had always spoken his views openly and without acrimony and they were well known.

Vredech had the feeling that, untypically, he was talking around some topic instead of tackling it head on. Taking a risk, he changed the subject abruptly.

‘This cold’s getting worse. It’s starting to cut right through me,’ he said.

Horld walked on a little way without replying. Again Vredech sensed an unease within him. Then he stopped suddenly. ‘Look,’ he whispered. Vredech could dimly make out Horld’s arm pointing up into the darkness. He peered after it, but could see nothing.

‘What?’ he asked.

‘There,’ Horld said impatiently. ‘Look – that light.’

Slowly, Vredech’s eyes adjusted. Ahead he saw that a part of the sky was noticeably brighter than the rest. It offered no greater illumination, however. Rather it seemed to be a concentration of all that was unpleasant in the strange cloudlight. He felt a chill of fear as if something might be lurking behind the rocks now silhouetted along the skyline.

‘What is it, do you think?’ he said, whispering, as Horld had.

‘I don’t know,’ Horld replied. ‘But you’re right, this cold seems to be getting worse with each step. Come on.’ And he was off, moving swiftly.

‘Wait,’ Vredech called out, though still softly.

But Horld did not seem to be listening. It was almost as though he was being drawn forward by something.

‘Wait!’ Vredech called again, more insistently. His voice sounded harsh in the cold darkness and Horld stopped and turned.

‘Sorry,’ he mumbled as Vredech reached him.

Vredech felt a spasm of irritation. ‘For pity’s sake, Horld, we must keep together! One lost on the mountain is bad enough.’ Immediately, regret flooded through him, but he could not find the words to express it. The two men stood staring at one another silently, aware of each other only as darkness within darkness.

Then that very darkness was changing. Sombre shadows were being carved out to give form and depth, though still more was hidden than illuminated. Both men looked upwards instinctively. Vredech drew in a sharp breath, while Horld circled his forefinger over his heart. It was an old gesture invoking Ishryth’s protection, long out of favour with the church but much used by many of its followers.

The sky was alive with flickering lights. The dank coldness that pervaded Vredech moved to and fro within him in compulsive harmony with the sight: rising, falling, sucking his breath away with its awful chill. It seemed to him once again that he was in the presence of a great multitude, whirling and dancing in an unholy celebration. Yet was it a multitude? He had the fleeting impression of a single entity, broken and shattered; a myriad gibbering shards trying to become whole again. His body filled with shivering echoes of the pernicious touch he had felt earlier and he raised a hand not only to fend it off but as if, in some way, he could deny the awful synthesis he could feel happening.

‘Ishryth,’ he heard Horld murmuring, awe-stricken.

The word rang through Vredech and from somewhere deep within him came a great denial. But he could find no voice for it. He was impotent.

The lights danced on, weaving movements growing ever faster and more complex while Vredech sank into despair, consumed by the knowledge that there was something he could do – should do – if he had but the knowledge.

Then, briefly, the lights converged to become like a single star, unbearably bright to the two men after their long journey through the darkness.

And it was over.

The star was gone.

All the light was gone.

Darkness returned, total and absolute.

Both men cried out at their sudden blindness, and reached out wildly to one another. Their hands met fortuitously and tightened upon one another in desperation. Vredech could not have said for how long they stood thus, primitive fears clamouring at them, but eventually he heard his own voice, trembling and breathless, saying, ‘We must go down. Very slowly, carefully, step by step. Feeling the way. And we must keep hold of one another.’ The sound helped him to regain some control over the screeching tumult filling his mind. Horld made no reply, but his grip tightened further about Vredech’s hand. Yet, despite the simple practicality of his suggestion, neither man moved.

‘I think I can see again.’

Horld’s voice was the merest whisper.

Vredech strained forward to hear him, then he, too, began to see that the greyness which he had taken to be a response by his eyes to the sudden darkness was, in fact, real. He blinked several times and rubbed his eyes with his free hand.