Roger Taylor - The Return of the Sword

‘I don’t think so,’ she said. ‘It’s never easy, and the Beacons aren’t much use to him. Antyr seems to be closed to the Power.’

The group was suddenly alive with interest. It found its consensus in the questions, ‘How can that be? What does it mean, anyway?’

Usche could add little. ‘I’m not sure, but that’s what Andawyr said, anyway. He did a simple teaching transference when I was demonstrating something and… nothing. Andawyr thinks it’s perhaps something to do with Antyr’s ability to enter dreams but, whatever it is, I’ve no doubt that it’ll be the subject of considerable debate shortly.’ She gave Antyr a guilty look. ‘I’m sorry, we’re talking about you as if you weren’t here, aren’t we?’

‘It’s all right,’ Antyr said, content just to be sitting and with someone he knew. ‘I can understand your curiosity and I’m gradually growing used to the idea that everyone here knows who I am and asks questions incessantly. I’ve never encountered anything like it before and it’s a very peculiar feeling. But it’s reassuring in a way.’

‘I wouldn’t say everyone knows who you are,’ Usche said. ‘They know your name and a little about your unusual ability, but mainly they know to leave you alone if you’re found… unconscious.’ Her face looked pained, as if she were seeking confirmation of this. Antyr gave it.

‘Yes, that, above all, you must do,’ he said insistently, briefly taking control of the group and looking at each of them in turn. ‘You’ll put yourselves and quite possibly me in great danger if you don’t.’

‘It seems an odd thing to do,’ said a young man sitting next to him.

His earnest manner provoked a soft laugh from Antyr. ‘From what I’ve heard about this Power of yours – and seen,’ he acknowledged Usche, ‘I’d say you should be used to odd things by now.’

Flustered, the man said, ‘I meant, oddly callous – just to leave someone lying there.’

Antyr regretted his laughter and gripped the man’s arm, at once fatherly and man to man. ‘It would be, normally,’ he said. ‘But not in this case. You’ll just have to take my word for it. It really is important that everyone understands this.’

‘The wolves are dangerous, then?’ someone asked.

Antyr gave his usual homily about Tarrian and Grayle. ‘It’s in their nature to protect me, but they’re their own animals. They go their own way, beholden to no one for anything. They’re neither trained nor tame. Don’t make any attempt to touch them unless they seek you out, which, generally speaking, is unlikely.’

‘You come with a lot of warnings hung about you,’ said his neighbour, making Antyr laugh again.

‘I suppose it seems like that,’ he conceded. ‘But there’s only the two, really. Leave me to lie and leave the wolves.’

‘Where are they now?’

The question prompted some anxious head turning.

‘I’ve no idea,’ Antyr replied. ‘Except that they won’t be lost. And by now they’ll probably know every source of food in the entire place. Don’t worry. As I said, they avoid getting involved with people as a rule. To be honest, they think we’re rather an inadequate species.’

‘Splendid,’ came an acid comment from someone. ‘First we have the felcis treating us as inferiors, now we have wolves. I think Andawyr should bar any more animals coming into the place before we end up at the very bottom of the mammalian ladder.’

‘What are these felcis like?’ Antyr queried.

‘Don’t worry, you’ll find out soon enough,’ said the man sitting next to Antyr, echoing Andawyr’s earlier comment. ‘In fact, with all the talk there’s been about you, I’m rather surprised they’ve not been round to look at you. They’re nothing if not nosy.’

‘Inquisitive is a kinder word,’ Usche said.

‘Nosy feels better.’

Before the argument could continue, there was a flurry of activity at the far end of the room and the sound of raised voices.

There was a quality about the noise that Antyr immediately associated with Tarrian: the clatter of people suddenly obliged to jump aside and loud voices raised in an explosive mixture of alarm and anger. Even without looking he could see the wolf, and presumably his brother, barging through anything that was in the way in their haste to get somewhere. An excited bark and the crash of something falling over, followed by a string of oaths, confirmed his assessment.

‘I think they’re here,’ he said, levering himself up off the low couch wearily. Then another sound reached him that was quite new. A swooping and remarkably loud whistling. Curious now, he joined the others in craning to see what was happening. As he did so, he caught a fleeting glimpse of a brown, sinuous animal, flitting rapidly through the confusion. Involuntarily his feet came together protectively and preparatory to jumping on to the couch.

They must have flushed out a rat, he thought. And a big one, by the look of it.

A combination of relief and embarrassment swept over him. At least it wasn’t anything more serious they were up to, but then it was hardly the mark of a good guest to expose the more unsavoury inhabitants of his host’s dwelling, still less to engage in a frantic pursuit through it.

Abruptly the animal was in front of him. Before Antyr could stop it, one of his feet came up and rested on the couch. Only an apparent lack of concern by Usche and her friends kept the other one on the floor. And, indeed, the animal was not moving. It was sitting back on its haunches with its forelegs dangling. Slowly it tilted its head on one side as it looked at Antyr intently with bright, penetrating eyes.

It looked remarkably composed.

And whatever it was, it wasn’t a rat.

It must be a pet, Antyr realized in terror as Tarrian and Grayle arrived, cascading to a claw-skittering halt on the polished floor. A vision of a violent, bloody and very public skirmish resulting in the brutal destruction of someone’s dearest filled him. It was followed immediately by a clutch of the dire and humiliating consequences that must surely ensue for both him and the wolves if this happened. He was just about to call out to Tarrian and Grayle when the animal, still on its haunches, calmly looked over its shoulder at the panting pair.

‘This is him, isn’t it?’ it said, in a languid but quite clear voice.

Tarrian and Grayle were quite still now except for their lolling tongues and wagging tails. Antyr caught a hint of a reply from one of them and the animal returned to its scrutiny of him.

‘Hm. Gapes rather, doesn’t he?’

Through the bewilderment rapidly taking possession of him, Antyr became aware of Usche standing close beside him. Her hand on his arm, she had the protective aura of a guide particularly anxious to ensure that an inadvertent but important meeting should be carried off successfully. As casually as he could, he removed his errant foot from the couch.

‘This is Kristabel,’ Usche said quickly and with heavily forced geniality. ‘She’s a felci. I gather from what you were just saying that they’re not an animal you’re familiar with.’

‘Close your mouth.’ Tarrian’s voice hissed unexpectedly in Antyr’s mind. ‘You look ridiculous.’

Caught between Tarrian’s indignation, Usche’s anxiety, this strange creature’s inspection of him, and the incipient suspicion that he was perhaps being made the butt of some elaborate prank. Antyr smiled weakly and uttered a brief string of incomprehensible sounds before managing to say, ‘Hello, Kristabel.’

The Felci nodded with each word like an adult coaxing a carefully rehearsed greeting out of a child. ‘Very good. I didn’t quite catch the first part of that but the rest was fairly intelligible. He seems personable enough. Do you have much trouble with him?’