Roger Taylor - The Return of the Sword

Usche was still wide-eyed as she turned her attention back to Antyr. She coughed and swallowed nervously, said ‘Yes’ meaninglessly and swallowed again before beginning.

‘This blind man attacked you with the Power?’ she asked almost disbelievingly.

‘No questions,’ Andawyr insisted, but she scowled at him. She was about to speak when Antyr answered her.

‘Yes,’ he said. ‘At least that’s what I presume it was.’

‘And you…’ Usche gesticulated vaguely. ‘Sent it back to him.’

‘Yes.’

Usche shook her head. ‘If you could do that then I don’t think there’s anything I can tell you. You should be teaching me.’

‘I’m afraid not,’ Antyr replied. ‘Although I remember much of what happened, far more has slipped away from me, rather, as I’m told often enough, dreams usually fade on waking. And as for how I did what I did, I’ve no idea. It was almost as if something woke inside me and took charge.’ He frowned as memories of the terrifying confrontation returned to him, suddenly vivid. With them came a familiar aching feeling of loss. ‘For the briefest of moments I knew… everything. Everything that had ever been – that could be – known. But it was so short – almost as though it had been trapped between the moments.’ He indicated the book on her lap. ‘It was like looking at the edge of a page, yet seeing everything that was written on it.’ He gave a fatalistic shrug. ‘I’ve no words for it, I’m afraid. Whatever it was, it wasn’t to be mine. Perhaps some part of me held enough of it to save my life, I don’t know.’ Then he smiled to encourage his still reluctant teacher. ‘I’ve heard a lot about this Power and I’d be very interested to know more about it, but I can see you’re having the same problem in finding words for it. Just try. I’ll ask if there’s anything I don’t understand but I’m sure the world won’t come to an end if I don’t grasp the matter fully.’

His manner relaxed Usche a little. She straightened her robe and carefully placed the book and papers she was holding on to a small table standing nearby.

Andawyr was sitting slightly behind Antyr and, though Antyr could not see him, he knew that he was watching Usche intently. It gave him a welcome sense of familiarity.

There is a hierarchy here, then, he thought. It’s just more subtle than I’m used to.

Conspicuously plucking up courage, Usche began. ‘Unfortunately, it doesn’t help that we use the term “Power”, but it’s so rooted into our ways of speaking and writing that any more appropriate term would be unlikely to dislodge it.’ Antyr sensed that a point was being made here that was not particularly for his benefit, but Usche continued without a pause. ‘It’s actually a relic of times long gone when this… pervasive phenomenon… which we still call the Power – or, rather, the ability to use it – was thought to be magical – something that was beyond rational explanation – something that came from a vague “other place” peopled by gods and spirits and the like.’ She took on a schoolteacher’s tone. ‘Now we’re a little more enlightened, and we also know much more about it. Much more.’ She looked at Andawyr pointedly. ‘Largely due to a certain person’s considerable courage, the full extent of which I’ve only recently begun to learn about.’

‘You should be concentrating on more important matters, young woman, not tittle-tattling in the recreation rooms.’ The comment came from over Antyr’s shoulder, though it patently did not impinge on Usche who calmly turned her gaze back to Antyr.

‘That’s not to say that we understand it fully. Far from it. There are many aspects of it that are deeply strange. At its heart, things happen in ways that are quite contrary to what we would expect in our everyday lives. However, let me show you something.’

She pulled the table between them and moved the book so that it was in front of her. She gave Andawyr an inquiring look and, apparently receiving his consent, opened the book and sat back. She became very still and, as Antyr watched, the pages of the book slowly began to turn, apparently of their own volition.

Antyr frowned and shot a suspicious and rather embarrassed look at Usche. He turned the same expression towards Andawyr, suddenly very uncertain.

‘What’s the matter?’ Andawyr asked, obviously surprised at this response.

Antyr’s embarrassment deepened. ‘This is just a… trick.’ The words came out in a half whisper, as though they were reluctant to be heard. It was Andawyr’s turn to frown, though in confusion, not anger. The book was still now and Usche was watching the exchange with great concern.

‘I don’t understand what you mean,’ Andawyr said into the awkward silence.

Unhappily, Antyr turned the book around to face him and leaned forward, his head resting on his hand as though deep in thought. As before, the pages of the book began to turn.

‘Good grief,’ Andawyr exclaimed, leaning forward himself and watching intently. ‘How did you do that? You certainly didn’t use the Power.’

Antyr put his fingertips to his mouth and splayed them apart rapidly as he puffed out noisily. ‘Breath control,’ he said. ‘Silent, focused. It takes quite a lot of practice to do properly, but I can do it well enough for a party trick. My father taught me when I was a child. He learned it from a friend who was a market trader. He used tricks like that to gather a crowd. He could do the most amazing things. I’m so… I…’

Completely discomfited by what he now realized was an ill-judged and wholly inappropriate intrusion, Antyr stammered to a halt. Andawyr’s face contorted alarmingly but when it resolved itself it was not into indignation and anger but into laughter. It proved to be beyond his control though eventually he managed, ‘You’re right. That’s a good trick. But it’s not what Usche was doing.’ As the laughter threatened to take over again he waved to her to continue.

Usche, however, did not appear to be amused. Jaw set and eyes now grim, she closed the book and turned it so that its spine was towards her. Slowly she lifted its heavy cover a little way, then slammed it shut with a vigorous slap, making Antyr start. Pausing only to shoot a dark look towards the still laughing Andawyr, she sat back in her chair as she had before. Very slowly, the cover swung open until it was vertical. Then, equally slowly, it continued opening until it was resting on the table. A good half of the pages then opened and followed it in the same manner. Throughout, Usche kept her eyes fixed sternly on Antyr.

‘Blow that !’ Andawyr whispered loudly in Antyr’s ear.

His laughter escaped his control again and bounced around the room. It was infectious and, for a moment, it seemed that Usche’s glare was going to disintegrate under its onslaught. She crushed the impulse. ‘One of our beloved leader’s more peculiar traits, Antyr, is that he laughs a lot – and very easily,’ she glowered.

Andawyr’s hand landed on Antyr’s shoulder. ‘And one of Brother Usche’s many charming traits is that she can be remarkably solemn. A trait which you can see your confusing her with a market pedlar has brought out to its full.’ Still chuckling, he spoke to her kindly. ‘Worse than that can happen, Usche. Remind me to have Oslang tell you how a demonstration of the Power he once gave nearly got him his throat cut.’

‘I’m awfully sorry,’ Antyr began. ‘I didn’t mean to… it’s just that you caught me unawares… I…’

A gentle pressure from Andawyr’s hand silenced him. ‘You’ve done no hurt, Antyr. You reacted openly and honestly which, I told you before, I – we – value, and value highly. What Usche’s just shown you is a small example of what a trained person can do with the Power. It’s a basic exercise to test skill, control, many things. Let me show you.’ He laid his hand over Antyr’s and nodded to Usche.