Roger Taylor - The Return of the Sword

He fell silent, rapt in thought. No one disturbed him.

‘And in the end I forgave him. Forgave him the murder of my parents. How could I do that?’ He gave a gulping laugh that was almost a sob. ‘And that destroyed him as surely as if I’d cut him open like that damned creature of his.’ He threw back his hood and turned his face upwards to let the rain fall on it. ‘I held out my hand to help my parents’ murderer and it destroyed him. Do you think I knew that was going to happen? That that was the sure way to destroy him?’ He shook his head and wiped his hand down his face. ‘It’s too complicated. I don’t understand.’

There was a long silence.

‘Wiser men than you or I have struggled to understand the darkness we have inside us, Farnor,’ Yengar said eventually. ‘And failed. I suppose we all have to make our own peace with it as best we can – strive to do as little harm as possible. What you did you did for a purpose that any of us would consider just. And you did well. In fact, you did magnificently. Circumstances put you where you were and, dark and frightening though they might have been, you found the resources to survive – in every way. Any blame – any guilt – was Rannick’s. He had the same choices as you, but where you used your crueller nature to a good end, he allowed himself to be consumed by his.’ Farnor made to speak but Yengar pressed on. ‘There is no understanding the likes of him when they pass a certain point. They cut their own demented path through the lives of others, and bring about their own destruction.’

There was a soft murmur of agreement from the others.

‘Gryss thinks that I might have the same power as Rannick.’

The words hung in the rain-filled air.

‘Maybe you have,’ Yengar said casually. ‘I don’t pretend to understand these things, but coming from a small community like yours you’re bound to be related in some way if that’s of any relevance. Not that it matters.’

Farnor was taken aback by his offhand manner. ‘Not matter? But…’

‘But nothing.’ Yengar looked at him powerfully. ‘You’ve been tried and tested. More than many so-called fighting men I know. If you were going to turn into another Rannick it would’ve happened by now. Trust me.’ He swung an arm across his companions. ‘There are always choices – and always the heart and the head to guide. You made yours and you chose well – as you said yourself, what your parents gave you will be with you for ever. Even now, by coming with us, you’re choosing. You’ve chosen to learn more about yourself. And if it transpires you’ve some skill with the Power – or something else – then learn whatever you can about it. You’ll make mistakes with it, as sure as fate, but you’ll put it to no ill use.’ He put a reassuring hand on Farnor’s shoulder. ‘For now, all you need concern yourself with is staying in your saddle and enjoying our journey home.’

Farnor frowned. ‘You’ve thought a lot about this, haven’t you?’

Yengar threw his head back and a loud, generous laugh rolled out of him. Jenna and Yrain too laughed. Olvric smiled quietly. Farnor and Marna looked at one another, uncertain about the cause of this mirth.

‘Yes, I certainly have,’ Yengar replied, still laughing. ‘Many’s the time all of us have had cause to think, “What am I doing here?” And if I can teach you in ten days what it’s taken me ten years to learn then I’m only too happy to.’

‘Could you teach me to be like you?’

Yengar reined in his laughter and gave Farnor a strange look as if the young man might be teasing him. ‘What do you mean?’ he asked.

‘I mean, be like you. Someone who can protect people against the likes of Nilsson and his men. A warrior.’

Yengar’s mouth opened and closed twice before he managed to say, ‘You challenged Nilsson and survived. You challenged Rannick and survived. You challenged the Great Forest and survived. You plunged into the depths of your own fears and doubts and survived. And, not least, you fought and killed what was almost certainly a Sierwolf and came away with nothing more than a few bruises. You need no lessons from me, Farnor, you’re everything you need to be.’

‘I was lucky.’

Yengar laughed again, though this time with an air of exasperated disbelief. ‘You quite probably were,’ he said. ‘But being “a warrior”…’ He laid a mocking emphasis on the words. ‘Doesn’t mean that you don’t need your share of luck.’

‘You know what I mean.’

‘No, I don’t. Why in pity’s name would you want to be like me – or any of us?’

‘Because I would! Because I can still remember the helplessness I felt when Nilsson beat me. It was like nothing I’d ever known before. I could do nothing. I was something less than a child’s doll to him. You’re right, I did survive, but only because Gryss intervened and talked our way out of it. I don’t want to experience anything like that ever again!’

Yengar did not speak, surprised and a little disconcerted by this unexpected passion.

‘Even Gulda threw me around as if I was nothing,’ Farnor added, almost petulantly.

‘Gulda?’ exclaimed Yrain, suddenly taking a keen interest in the conversation. ‘Why would she throw you around?’

Farnor turned to her sheepishly. ‘She took me by surprise,’ he said defensively, clearing his throat. ‘She sneaked up on me when I was by my camp fire. I… lashed out at her with a stick.’

‘You did what!’ Both Jenna and Yrain were wide-eyed.

‘I… lashed out at her with a stick. Then… I tried to stab her.’

‘I don’t believe I’m hearing this,’ Yrain said. ‘You never told us about it before.’

‘You never asked,’ Farnor said weakly.

The two women moved their horses to ride either side of him, Yrain casually displacing Yengar despite the fact that he was equally enthralled by this revelation.

‘What happened?’ they both urged him, abruptly gossiping jades.

‘I don’t know,’ Farnor replied, taken aback by this sudden interest and beginning to regret he had mentioned this encounter. ‘I was poking the fire and, all of a sudden, there was this figure behind me. I just swung round with the stick I was holding.’

‘And…’

Farnor hesitated for a moment. ‘I remember the clearing turning upside down. And then I hit the ground… some way away. Twice, I think. And without my stick. She was poking the fire with it when I gathered my wits.’

This caused a great deal of laughter and brought down a combination of back-slapping and precarious embracing that nearly tumbled Farnor out of his saddle.

‘Swinging a stick at Gulda,’ Yrain said, at the same time wiping her eyes and righting him again. ‘I’d have given a lot to see that.’

‘No, you wouldn’t,’ Yengar intruded. ‘You’d have been hiding behind the nearest tree. As would all of us.’

‘You’re probably right.’

There was more laughter.

‘It’s not funny,’ Farnor said indignantly.

‘Yes, it is,’ Yengar replied. ‘You don’t know Gulda like we do.’

‘She’s just an old woman,’ Farnor said, knowing that this was not true even as he spoke. Then, anxious to end his tenure as the butt of their mirth, he asked, ‘Can she use this… Power… that you were talking about? Is that how she did it?’

The laughter faded.

‘No one knows what Gulda can do. Or even who she is. Most of us had thought never to hear of her again after the war.’ It was Olvric. ‘She’s like Hawklan – deep and puzzling. Very deep.’

‘And formidable,’ Yengar added. ‘In every way. I wouldn’t be surprised if she could use the Power, but she wouldn’t have needed it to deal with you. If it’s any comfort to you, none of us here would choose to threaten her. Nor any that I know.’