Roger Taylor - The Return of the Sword

Dacu and Tirke and many others had travelled abroad at the suggestion of the Cadwanol. Not, in their case, to bring fugitives to justice, but to learn more of the world that lay beyond Fyorlund, Orthlund and Riddin and to see how far Sumeral’s corrosive and silent influence had spread this time. Alarmed by what they had witnessed in Canol Madreth they had advised Vredech to return with them to Anderras Darion. Their subsequent meeting with Thyrn and the recounting of his story had served only to heighten their alarm.

Endryk was a Fyordyn High Guard. He too had stood in the ranks that faced Sumeral’s army, but the horror of the day and all that had led to it had proved too much and, like many others, he had left the victorious battlefield not to return home but to wander aimless and lost. Eventually he had come to Arvenstaat and found some solace in a long, lonely vigil as a shoreman. There it was that he had encountered the fleeing Thyrn and his companions and in helping them had found the strength to return to his own country and perhaps some part of his old life.

Nertha was a physician. Her trust and clear-eyed vision had anchored Vredech as his conflict with Cassraw had pushed him to the edge of insanity; her courage had saved his life in his final and tragic confrontation with the dark force that was seeking a way to this world.

Despite their past ordeals and the shadows that these threw on the present, all the travellers were in good heart and looking forward in their different ways to reaching Anderras Darion. Thyrn in particular was much easier in his manner than the haunted youth he had been when Endryk had first met him. The Caddoran were an ancient Guild of Messengers. Their origins were obscure, lying probably in the battles of the First Coming, long since forgotten in Arvenstaat. Now they were merely servants to rich merchants and high officials, though they plied a subtle and unusual trade. Not only did they memorize messages, they memorized also the nuances of the senders’ intonations and expressions – they were invaluable in the conspiratorial underworld of Arvenstaat’s trade and government. Thyrn had been exceptionally gifted and was the youngest person ever to become Caddoran to the Chief Warden. Now his Caddoran skills gave him a swiftness in learning things that was a constant source of amazement to his new friends.

A companionable group, they talked a great deal, often long into the night, each telling of their own lands and lives. The Goraidin spoke about Fyorlund with its Queen and its many Lords and their High Guards; about Orthlund with the great castle of Anderras Darion at its heart; about Riddin with its society seemingly built entirely around the Riddinvolk’s love of horses and, not least, about the First and Second Comings of Sumeral, though they made little mention of their fears that perhaps His hand was to be seen in what had happened to both Vredech and Thyrn. Thyrn was much taken by the aspects of these stories that were part of Arvenstaat folklore, but Vredech found this same coincidence with many of the features of his erstwhile religion unsettling.

‘I can understand you being upset,’ Dacu said to him. ‘The basis of your beliefs – indeed, your chosen calling – being so shaken, but, to be honest, I’ve the greatest difficulty in grasping the fundamental idea of religion anyway. It seems to me that something based on unreasoning faith is intrinsically doomed to such a fate.’

Dacu’s quiet and easy manner allowed him to confront without causing offence.

‘Your people have no god? No religion at all?’ Vredech retorted, not without some surprise.

‘None,’ Dacu replied with hesitation. Then he smiled and conceded, ‘There are one or two strange little sects and cults, and plenty of people with peculiar ideas, but nothing like a state religion such as your Ishrythan was.’

Vredech objected. ‘It wasn’t an instrument of government. No one was obliged to believe or to go to the Meeting Houses.’

‘It was the “done thing”, though,’ Dacu pressed.

Vredech looked at him narrowly and moved on to the attack. ‘I suppose so,’ he said. ‘Rather like one of your young men “volunteering” to spend a period of his life in one of your Lords’ High Guards.’

‘That’s character-forming,’ Dacu chuckled.

‘Hm. I think we can rest evens on the imperfections of our respective social conventions, but I find it difficult to imagine that your people don’t ask questions such as “Where do we come from?” and “What are we here for?”

‘And Ishrythan has the answers to these questions?’

‘It seeks to find them – in faith.’

This time it was Dacu who indulged in the narrow look. ‘On the whole, I’d say that when we ask such questions, we seek answers not in faith – not in the blind acceptance of a doctrine laid down by someone else, however profound – but in constantly questioning – using reason – reason and tested observation.’

‘And reason and tested observation have the answers?’ Vredech returned sharply. ‘And bring comfort to the afflicted?’

Dacu laughed ruefully. But as his laughter faded, he became more serious. ‘No, I’m afraid they don’t give all the answers. In fact they merely provide more questions. It’s all they can ever do. But I think they protect us from some of the excesses that the darker side of our nature can lead us to.’ He moved on quickly. ‘As for offering comfort. I think we each of us find that where we can. For myself, and my friends and companions who’ve found themselves following a soldier’s way like me, I’d say we take comfort in trying to see things clearly – as they are.’

Vredech looked at him. ‘A harsh creed,’ he said gently.

Dacu nodded. ‘Possibly. But on the whole, better a harsh truth than a soft lie. And perhaps a little more clarity of vision – a little more questioning – might have spared your people some of their pain.’

‘That, I can hardly deny. Though, in fairness, the mindless bigotry that poor Cassraw fostered in his madness was no part of the teaching of Ishryth – your Ethriss. How it took the hold it did…’ He threw up his arms. ‘I don’t know. It was very frightening. As was the impotence of both the church and our leaders in the face of it. Which is why I’m here, I suppose, travelling through strange lands to a strange destination. Putting my faith in you.’

Dacu put his hand to his head theatrically in an attempt to lighten Vredech’s mood. ‘Now I understand how a god must feel – burdened by such unquestioning trust. Still…’ he went on sympathetically. ‘Looking back on what happened, being frightened was the only response you could have had. And for all my countrymen’s vaunted reason and our tried and trusted way of government – far superior to yours, I can tell you, as an observed fact – we too faltered and were led astray – plunged first into civil war and then into a war of aggression. Desperate times, desperate events. I think we can both accept that notwithstanding the answers to the “great” questions, we know there are people – powers – in the world that are bent on doing harm even if we can’t begin to fathom why.’

‘Possessed by evil, perhaps.’

‘I’m not even sure what that means. I’m more inclined to think that, like Thyrn here, they’re people born with attributes that have come down through time to us. Reason unknown. Except that in their case it’s not a gift, like Thyrn’s, but rather an omission. Something missing. They’re faulty, incomplete. They lack the fetters that we have on our inner darkness. Fetters that have been forged as we’ve moved from crueller times, when life must have been a constant struggle against hunger, cold, uncaring nature generally. In a sense, they’re our past, come to haunt us.’ He looked squarely at Vredech. ‘But however they come to be, they are , as we both know all too well, and to ignore them is to court disaster. And the likes of you and I who know these things betray ourselves and those who trust us if we don’t watch for them.’