Roger Taylor - Caddoran

Rhavvan’s hand was moving towards a knife in his belt.

‘Don’t,’ Endryk said, softly but urgently. Rhavvan hesitated and Endryk’s free hand extended to emphasize his command. ‘Nals isn’t a pet. He’s neither trained nor tame, he does what he wants. And he knows about weapons. He’s also afraid of nothing and if he goes for you I won’t be able to stop him. He’ll hurt you badly even if you kill him.’

There was no challenge or threat in Endryk’s voice, just quiet and patently sincere advice, and Rhavvan made no further movement. Nevertheless he could do no other than demand to know, ‘What’s he doing that for, then?’

‘My fault, probably,’ Endryk replied. ‘For some reason he’s very protective of me. He sensed trouble.’

‘Why? No one threatened you.’

At a further touch from Endryk, Nals grudgingly stopped his silent display and lay down. His head sank forward on to his paws, but his unblinking eyes moved relentlessly back and forth across the watching group.

‘Thyrn startled me with what he said, that’s all. Caught me unawares. Nals probably picked it up. Does the lad read minds?’ Endryk’s eyes belied the half-joking note in his voice.

‘Are you from the north?’ Hyrald asked, ignoring the question. ‘Your accent’s different from ours, but I just took it to be a local one.’

‘I’m here because I want to be,’ Endryk replied, ignoring Hyrald’s question in turn. ‘Where I come from is no one’s affair. Suffice it I don’t want to be reminded of the past.’

Hyrald looked at him. ‘And I don’t want to intrude,’ he said after a moment. ‘Not after everything you’ve done for us – we’re already considerably in your debt. But you know our position and if you can tell us anything about what there is to the north that could help us, I’d welcome the benefit of your experience.’

‘I told you, I’m not accepting burdens. You owe me nothing.’

‘But you are from the north?’

‘I’m here.’

Thyrn’s trembling voice intruded. ‘We must get away from this place, from Vashnar. He’s going to make dreadful things happen. He’s…’

‘For pity’s sake, be quiet!’ Hyrald snapped angrily, rounding on him. Everyone froze at his unexpected ferocity. To avoid their collective gaze he looked upwards and blew out a noisy breath.

The sky was clear and blue, open and wide.

It would be thus when they were gone.

Beautiful and indifferent.

Large white birds were wheeling in wide graceful circles high above. Their freedom seemed to sharpen his sense of his own bonds.

And yet? Something inside him shifted. ‘I’m not accepting burdens,’ Endryk had said. The simple statement seemed to ring through the arching sky, echoing louder and louder, subtly changing, until finally it became a silent, pounding question.

‘What binds you?’

It jolted him.

In the inner silence that followed, Hyrald knew that the asking of the question was its own answer. And one he already knew. One he had learned a long time ago. All things were as they were and must be accepted as such. Anything else was folly – sometimes dangerous folly. Getting through life safely and sanely was primarily a matter of deciding what could be changed and what not, then dealing with the former and letting the latter go, both wholeheartedly.

His spasm of anger vanished into depths of the sky. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said to Endryk. ‘We’ve disturbed you long enough and now we’ve obviously woken an old pain by way of thanks. There’s nothing up north for us, is there?’

Endryk opened his arms. ‘People, places, bad, good. Who knows, for you. Not for me, certainly. Not yet. Not for quite a time, I think.’

Hyrald nodded, then spoke directly to Thyrn. ‘It ends here,’ he said, his voice both grim and pained. ‘I can see no peace in exile, still less in continual flight – for any of us. Apart from the fact that we’ve done nothing wrong, we’re Arvens. I wouldn’t say we belong here no matter what, but everything I know tells me we’ll be lost beyond recall if we just carry on running in the hope of finding some strange land to hide in.’ Thyrn made to speak but Hyrald stopped him. ‘Listen to me, Thyrn. Grasp this. Whatever made you what you are, whatever brought you to this place, has happened. It can’t be changed or run away from and nothing but hurt is going to be achieved by denying that. You need to understand that.’

‘But Vashnar’s going to…’

‘No! I said listen to me.’ Hyrald became insistent. ‘No one knows what anyone’s going to do. I don’t know what you’ve touched on in Vashnar, something bad without a doubt, but it’s not the future. No one can know the future. Only in children’s tales and ancient myths.’ He scuffed the sandy ground with his foot, scarring it dark brown and raising a small flurry of dust. Some of it spilled up on to the toe of his boot, while the rest slowly dispersed in an unfelt breeze. ‘Who could have foreseen what I just did or where each tiny part of that dust would fall? And every least action makes the future. We’re all practical people here, Thyrn. We plan, we think, we anticipate, but always we know things will turn out otherwise… sometimes a little, sometimes massively. And either way, in the end, we have to accept and deal with the reality that comes to pass. That’s one of the differences between children and adults – though a lot of people never come to understand it, believe me. All of which leaves me with the knowledge that I don’t think I can run any further. Not now it comes to it. I don’t think any of us can. Too many ties. You’re free to go on wherever you like, but I… we…’ He glanced round at the others. ‘We have to find another way.’

Thyrn stared at him, wide-eyed. Nordath stood pale and silent.

‘Besides, whatever problem you’ve got with Vashnar is indeed a Caddoran matter, and quite beyond anything any of us here can help you with.’

Thyrn made to speak but Hyrald pressed on, earnest and encouraging. ‘Think about this. Somewhere inside you is a resource that will help you deal with what’s happening. You’re the Caddoran, not Vashnar – at least he’s only part one, perhaps.’ He laid a scornful emphasis on the last word. ‘Not only that but you’re one of the best there’s ever been – so everyone tells me. You’ve all the advantages even if you can’t see them at the moment. If you meet Vashnar in this strange way again,’ he tapped his head, ‘remember that it’s your territory. You can deal with him there. Don’t keep fretting about running away. That’s a sure way both to cloud your own vision and to bring a predator after you. It’s usually better to face what’s behind you than crash into some future that might well be worse and find yourself trapped between the two. Trust yourself, Thyrn, you’ve more in you than you know. I’ve seen that for myself.’ He became matter-of-fact. ‘Besides, it seems to me that this mysterious connection you have with Vashnar has nothing to do with distance. If you can somehow come together with you here and him in Arvenshelm, then I’ve a feeling that putting a sea between you won’t make any difference.’ He stopped, taken by an unexpected but obvious thought. ‘And he must be very afraid of you,’ he said, half to himself, half to the others. ‘Why else would he have gone to such an extremity as proclaiming the Death Cry? And against his own kind, too?’

Thyrn’s expression too, became thoughtful as Hyrald’s harsh summary impinged on him. ‘I did push him out,’ he said. ‘I don’t know how, but I definitely fended him off. And I think he was as lost and frightened as I was.’

Rhavvan grunted. ‘I don’t think Vashnar’s ever been frightened in his life,’ he said, though to no one in particular.