Roger Taylor - Ibryen

‘Continue,’ she said brusquely, as if annoyed that they had stopped.

There was a momentary hesitation then the room was bustling again. She turned to Helsarn. ‘My knife, Commander. Send an underling – now. Then return to your duties.’

Helsarn saluted again then sought out one of the messengers and spoke to him urgently. The man cast a quick glance at Jeyan before running from the room at great speed.

Jeyan looked around coldly. Unusually for the Citadel, the room was quite well-lit, the light coming from lanterns placed on tables and hung about in an obviously makeshift fashion. It awoke ambivalent feelings in her. The light would protect her from the Gevethen, but too, it might expose her for what she was.

She moved from table to table. On some, documents were being received and studied and dispatched – sometimes out of the room, sometimes just to another table. Around others, groups of men were poring over maps and plans. These meant little to her though she caught occasional phrases which confirmed for her the general feeling of alarm which seemed to be pervading the room as it had the hallway outside.

‘They can’t all be brought together so quickly…’

‘They’ll be too exhausted for anything…’

‘They’ll be strung out from here to the mountains…’

‘The logistics are impossible…’

Even once, the word ‘Suicide…’ though this was hastily curtailed as Jeyan turned round to see who had said it.

‘A bold and imaginative stroke,’ she said to Helsarn, moving to his side as he bent over a table studying something.

‘Indeed, Lord Counsellor,’ Helsarn replied. It unsettled him to have her singling him out. Not only did he not want to become conspicuous to the other Commanders as a possible favourite, he was far from certain about what manic thoughts lay behind that stern face. It seemed to him that she was even beginning to look like Hagen. Still, it was pointless hoping to avoid her, and it would be folly to do anything that might be construed as a rebuff. His safest course would probably be to ingratiate himself somehow. He expanded his terse acknowledgement.

‘It’ll be costly in lives, but the outlaw Ibryen’s been a thorn in their Excellencies’ side for too long. The men will be glad to die gloriously for the greater good.’

Not most of the men I ever knew, Jeyan thought, though she confined herself to a clipped, ‘Yes,’ as she peered at what Helsarn had been studying. It was a model of the mountains. She recognized the river and some of the larger peaks.

‘Where is the outlaw Ibryen believed to be?’ she asked.

Helsarn waved a hand vaguely over the model, encompassing several valleys. ‘We don’t know exactly,’ he replied. ‘We have look-outs here, and here, but they rarely see anything and they’re frequently murdered. I’ve often thought that a major offensive such as this, however costly, is the only way to deal with the problem. Their Excellencies must be freed to lead us out beyond the confines of this land.’

There was an uncertain inflection in his voice. ‘But?’ Jeyan prompted.

Helsarn looked at her awkwardly then turned away, still reluctant to meet her gaze. ‘It concerns me that their Excellencies themselves intend to come with the army.’

‘You fear for them?’

‘Ibryen’s people know the terrain intimately and use it well. They’re ambushers to a man. And there are places where only narrow columns can pass, where only a small group of men can be brought to bear. Even closely guarded I fear they could be in great danger.’ He shrugged anxiously. ‘Ibryen will surely strike at them if he discovers they’re with us.’

Opportunities indeed, Jeyan thought. The Gevethen had brought her to the heart of their world, now they were exposing themselves to Ibryen. They must surely be destroyed by one or the other. Even as the thought occurred to her however, so did its dark converse. If they were not destroyed now, then perhaps they would never be. She felt suddenly afraid. What had that evil pair learned when they had come so strangely upon Ibryen and his companion? Without intending to, she spoke her thoughts. ‘The Gevethen see ways which are denied to others.’

Helsarn stiffened, misunderstanding the remark and taking it as a rebuke. ‘I meant no disrespect, Lord Counsellor,’ he said hurriedly. ‘I merely voiced a concern for their Excellencies.’

He was spared any further awkwardness by the arrival of the messenger with Jeyan’s knife. The man was kneeling beside her and holding out the knife, still in its crude leather sheath. His face was flushed and he was breathing heavily. ‘My apologies for the delay, Lord Counsellor,’ he panted. ‘The Under Questioner had taken it for his own use.’

Jeyan took the knife without comment, drew it, tested the edge, then re-sheathing it, pushed it into her belt inside her tunic. As she turned her attention back to the model, Helsarn saw again the face he had seen trying to strangle the life out of the bleeding soldier in the Ennerhald. He was wise to be afraid of this one, he thought. The Gevethen had an uncanny knack of picking their own kind.

‘Where will you attack first?’ Jeyan was asking.

Helsarn showed her. It needed no military training on Jeyan’s part to see that large numbers of men would be required to mount an attack on so many valleys simultaneously, though she was careful to avoid asking direct questions.

‘At least that’s what the army Commanders have decided so far,’ Helsarn elaborated, risking a little disdain. ‘Though they keep changing it as information about troop arrivals comes in.’

Jeyan snatched at a phrase she had heard earlier. ‘The logistics are difficult,’ she said.

‘They are, Lord Counsellor,’ Helsarn agreed. ‘Ordering virtually every army unit back to Dirynhald at the double and moving them to the mountains almost immediately presents serious problems. But we all regard their Excellencies’ commands as a great challenge which it is our honour to meet. Even now, units are marching to establish a base camp.’

To his relief however, Jeyan was already walking away. She had heard and seen enough. The Gevethen were going to throw their entire resources against Ibryen.

Now she must be with them!

‘After the Great Heat, in the timeless time, the Shapers rejoiced at being and, in the dance and song of their rejoicing, formed all that is today: Theward shaping the mountains and the lands; Enastrion weaving the rivers and the lakes and the great oceans; Svara, the finest and most subtle Shaper of them all, soaring above all to make the boundless, shifting Ways that cannot be seen. Yet all were as one and their many talents were not separate, but resided one in another, bound together inextricably by the will of the greatest of the Shapers, Astrith. He it was who made all living things as they now are, though some say that their essence too came from the Great Heat and that he merely tended and guided. But that is beyond our knowing.

‘And as they surveyed their work and found it good, Svara said to Astrith, “Theward’s mountains and rich lands are a delight for all to behold, in their magnificence. As too are Enastrion’s silver, tumbling rivers and thundering oceans. But it saddens me that only we have the vision to know the Ways that I have woven, and that only we may take joy from them.”

‘And the Shapers looked again at their work and saw that it was so. For while living things walked and rejoiced on Theward’s lands, and swam and rejoiced in Enastrion’s waters, few could follow Svara’s Ways and none could follow those that rose beyond the highest of Theward’s peaks.

‘Then Astrith thought on this, and, as in a dream, his greatest creation came to him. Waking, he travelled the dreamways between the heartbeats of the worlds until he came to that which was before and beyond all things. And in this, he willed the Culmaren to be, breathing life into it and drawing it forth so that alone amongst his creations it could be known in this world and beyond. And he said to it, “You are the greatest and most mysterious of all my works. Rejoice that you now are, and tend the needs of those I shall bring you to.”’