Roger Taylor: Ibryen

Now the celebration and the talking was over. It had been a joyous interlude, not least for Isgyrn, finding his land unscathed and free from the darkness it had been threatened by when he was torn from it. And finding too, his family and kin.

Ibryen, to his considerable embarrassment, had been treated with an almost overpowering deference though at the same time he was aware that he had been extensively interrogated about his disturbing gift.

‘We are doubly in your debt,’ he was told finally by the elder Seeker who had been discreetly leading the questioning. ‘You have enriched us with your knowledge – and with the return of our brave brother, long-mourned.’ There was a hint of sadness in his voice though, and drawing Ibryen to one side, he spoke softly to him, away from the others. ‘Few have been so blessed as you in your gift, Ibryen. But you must… you must… study it, learn everything that is to be learned. It was given to you for a purpose beyond what it has achieved so far, I’m sure. It must not be allowed to lie fallow because the immediate needs of healing your land are clamouring so.’ He coughed awkwardly. ‘You must forgive me speaking to you thus, elder to younger as it were,’ he said. ‘I don’t normally regale guests with such lectures. Seeker’s habit, I’m afraid – but I had to speak how the mood took me. Please accept it in good part.’

Ibryen smiled and bowed. ‘Your advice matches my intention,’ he said. ‘I regret that you can’t remain longer to help me.’

But the time for parting had come. ‘Svara’s will can be defied only so far,’ Isgyrn told his friends. ‘The land must move on.’ He embraced each in turn. ‘It has been a time of great learning. It seems that the Great Corrupter may indeed have been destroyed – at least in this world.’ He lowered his voice as though loath to darken the moment. ‘But His touch lingers on and my land has been travelling high and strange Ways since that time. We must concern ourselves more now with the middle depths. Learn what has happened to Him, for until He is destroyed utterly He will surely return. We will come here again.’

Then the Soarers carried them back to the sunlit ridge where Ibryen had first met the Traveller.

The little group watched in silence as the island began to drift back towards the Culmadryen. Like the mountains themselves, the scale of the great cloudland deceived, and the island was scarcely visible long before it reached it. As it shrank into the distance, becoming the merest wisp of cloud, a single brilliant light flashed from it as once more Isgyrn’s sword sent the sun to Ibryen. Then, slowly, the Culmadryen began to move away from them.

They stood for a long time, staring after it.

‘I’ll be off then.’ The Traveller broke the silence.

‘What?’

He flinched away from the combined exclamation. ‘I’ll be off,’ he repeated weakly. ‘I have to go.’

‘Why?’ Ibryen protested. ‘Your land’s not blowing away on the breeze.’

The Traveller smiled. ‘Neither is yours, Ibryen, but you’ve much to do. All of you. And so have I.’

Rachyl sat down beside him and put her arm around his shoulders. ‘You can’t leave us now,’ she said.

The Traveller gently unwound the arm, but held her hand. ‘It’s been a noisy few days,’ he said. ‘Days such as I’ve never known before and may well not know again.’ He looked at Rachyl. ‘They’ve given me back many things I’d long forgotten about – renewed me. I must pay more heed to people in future. But I need to think. I need the sounds of the mountains.’ Ibryen made to speak, but the Traveller continued. ‘And my kin are returned,’ he said, his eyes distant but excited. ‘Isgyrn spoke of it when he first woke but we’d more pressing concerns then. Now the Seekers have confirmed it for me. The Ways of the Sound Carvers are being opened, the Great Song is being heard again.’ The excitement reached his voice. ‘And the Great Gate is open. I must find it, I have so many questions now.’ He looked intently at Ibryen. ‘And I must find those who can help you understand your gift and bring them to you, as well as spreading the news of what’s happened here.’ Then he cleared his throat and made a shooing motion with his hands. ‘Go on now,’ he said briskly. ‘I’m not keen on goodbyes.’

There was nothing more to be said.

He took the hands of each as they left, but Rachyl remained sitting by him. He looked at her, eyes bright and full of life. ‘You too,’ he said.

‘I know,’ she replied.

He ran a finger down her cheek. ‘Thank you,’ he said softly.

‘Thank you,’ she said, taking his hand and squeezing it.

Then he stood up, hitched his pack on to his back and strode off.

He moved very quickly.

Rachyl stood watching him, one hand on her sword hilt, the other in her belt, patting her stomach thoughtfully.

‘You will come again?’ she asked, knowing that he would hear her.

‘Oh yes,’ came the reply. ‘I’ll be back.’

‘When?’

‘Ah…’

‘I’ll listen for you.’

‘Yes.’ His voice was growing fainter. ‘Listen for me always.’

Then there was silence.

Rachyl leaned forward intently.

But there was only the sound of the wind.