Roger Taylor - The Return of the Sword

He fell silent.

‘Watch for them and deal with them,’ Vredech added. There was a questioning note in his voice.

Dacu nodded. ‘With all that that means. Head, heart and sword. Wilfully removing our own fetters if we have to.’ He gave a grim smile. ‘It seems we’ve a gift of our own, haven’t we? We can’t see such things and do nothing.’

‘Evil prevails while good lies abed.’

‘You two aren’t going to be allowed to ride together if your conversation’s going to be so relentlessly cosmic all the time.’ Nertha’s smile came between the two riders. ‘Why can’t you talk about the weather for a while?’

‘It’s sunny,’ Dacu said hastily, taking her hand.

‘Yes,’ Vredech agreed, taking the other. ‘But it might rain later.’

‘Very droll,’ Nertha retorted caustically, studiously withdrawing her hands to fumble with the ribbon that was holding back her long black hair. ‘Perhaps you’d care to talk about where we are, then? Where we might be tomorrow? When we’ll be in Anderras Darion?’ Pulling the ribbon ferociously tight, she slapped the sleeve of her jacket. A pale reddish dust rose up from it. She looked down at her grimed hands, gave a sigh, then fixed Dacu with a reproachful gaze. ‘They do have running water there, I trust.’

‘Well, when it rains, they…’

‘They’ve everything you’ll need, Nertha.’ Tirke intervened rapidly as Nertha’s brown eyes narrowed dangerously. ‘As for where we are, I think the short answer is, we don’t know.’

Nertha let out a pained breath. ‘Tirke, I don’t wish to seem unkind, but I have to tell you, you’re not reassuring me.’

Tirke floundered. ‘I mean, we don’t know exactly where we are. We’re heading north all right – towards home – but we didn’t come this way. We were further east on our way out – more towards the coast. But there are towns there – the Wilde Ports – that we thought it would be better to avoid on the way back.’

‘I know where we are.’ It was Endryk. ‘We’re at the south end of the Thlosgaral.’

This provoked only inquiring looks.

‘I wandered around this region, long ago,’ he explained. ‘The Thlosgaral’s a… rocky desert… for want of a better description. Dusty, barren, dangerous. The only people who go into it are miners and the bandits who prey on them.’ He grimaced, then shuddered. ‘It’s a bad place. And it moves.’

‘Moves?’ Tirke and Nertha exclaimed simultaneously.

Endryk did not flinch before their combined doubt.

‘Moves,’ he confirmed. ‘Slowly, but quite definitely. It’s like an ocean caught in a different time. I spent a night here once – and only one night. I couldn’t get out fast enough. And there seems to be something unhealthy about the rocks themselves. You’ll understand if we see any miners. They all look the same – as if the life’s been wrung out of them.’ He turned to Dacu. ‘We should go around it. It’s longer, but it’ll be quicker and much safer.’ Dacu inclined his head and motioned Endryk to take the lead.

Towards evening, Dacu began looking towards the eastern sky, puzzled.

‘That redness in the sky is the Thlosgaral,’ Endryk told him. ‘It’s like a permanent sunset.’

‘More like an inflamed wound,’ Nertha said, frowning.

Thyrn was riding alongside Endryk. ‘It feels like the place in the Karpas mountains where Vashnar attacked us.’ The young Caddoran looked decidedly unhappy as he too glanced towards the eastern sky.

‘It does indeed,’ Endryk said tersely. ‘Perhaps they’re outcrops of the same thing.’

Dacu frowned. ‘If it’s like the place you described to us, then we really should have a look at it. Andawyr and the others will want to know about it for sure.’

‘Andawyr and the others can come and look at it for themselves, then,’ Endryk said bluntly. ‘I’ve been in it once, I won’t go in it again.’

‘Nor I,’ Thyrn said, hunching his shoulders.

It was the nearest they had come to a dispute on their journey so far. Dacu held up a peacemaking hand. ‘Just habit, that’s all. It’s in my nature to find out about things. But I can see the idea upsets both of you. Sorry.’

Endryk became conciliatory as they rode on. ‘There’s every chance we’d get lost. Once you’re in there it’s as though you’ve been transported to another world, it’s so different from anywhere you’ve ever been before. And it does move. Sometimes you can actually feel it – everything around you shaking, shifting. Suddenly nothing’s fixed – not even the ground – you feel dizzy, sick – it’s very frightening. Then you’re disorientated when you find all the landmarks have subtly changed. And there’s nothing to see – just reddish-grey rocks everywhere. No natural erosion patterns, no trails, no vegetation, no animals, nothing. The whole place looks blighted. And it makes noises as it moves. Like something being tortured.’

‘You’ve made your point,’ Dacu said. ‘Quite vividly. But we should still find something out about the place if it bears any relationship to the place where you fought Vashnar. You mentioned miners. Perhaps we can speak to some of them if we see any. By the way, what do they mine that’s so precious if the place is as awful as you say?’

‘Crystals, though I don’t know what they are or why they’re valuable. I imagine they trade them in Arash-Felloren or the Wilde Ports.’

‘Arash-Felloren? That’s north-west of here, isn’t it? I seem to remember hearing about it when we passed through the Wilde Ports.’

‘It is,’ Endryk said. ‘I’ve been there once too.’

Dacu looked surprised. ‘You never mentioned it.’

‘It was long ago. And I was in a sorry state then. It was only the dust on Nertha’s jacket reminded me where we might be.’

‘What’s it like?’

Endryk pulled a wry face. ‘Big,’ he said. ‘Very big. Far bigger than Vakloss.’ Dacu raised doubting eyebrows. ‘And very confusing. Full of hills and winding streets. I’ve vague memories of all kinds of buildings – big, small, old, new, rich, rotten – wide avenues, cramped alleys. And people everywhere.’

‘Sounds peculiar, but interesting. Are the people friendly to strangers?’

Endryk’s expression became pained. ‘At my best I was no Goraidin, Dacu, and in those days I could hardly remember my name, let alone pay attention to what was going on around me. I remember the people as being neither friendly nor unfriendly – just indifferent. Almost as if, were you to fall over in the street, they’d let you lie there until you died or found the strength to stand up again. People would step over you.’ Dacu frowned at the image, but Endryk continued. ‘The whole place was full of clamour and noise, everyone buying and selling all the time, everyone in a hurry, rushing everywhere. It probably suited me then. On my own in a vast crowd. Surrounded but alone.’

Dacu searched anxiously into the High Guard’s face. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘I’ve stirred memories you’d rather have left to lie. It sounds like an awful place.’

‘I wouldn’t judge,’ Endryk said. ‘It was a long time ago and, as I said, I was in a poor state then. People did help me, I know, though to my shame I can’t remember either names or faces. When I think of the place now I remember only confusion, but that could’ve been as much me as the city. There must be countless good souls there or so huge a place would’ve destroyed itself by now.’

‘Can we go into it?’ Thyrn thrust the enthusiastic question between the two men. Reaching safety in some vaguely rumoured ‘great city in the north’ had been constantly in his mind during his flight across Arvenstaat. Dacu gave Endryk an inquiring look.