Roger Taylor - The Return of the Sword

‘Who are you?’ Gulda asked before Gavor could plunge into what was promising to be a lengthy justification for his gaffe.

‘I’m… kin… to the Alphraan,’ the man replied. ‘But I’ve been away for a long time – listening to the world.’

Gulda raised an inquiring eyebrow. ‘How long?’

‘When I left, the Great Gate was still closed,’ came the explanation.

‘And what have you heard?’

‘So many questions, my lady. I…’

‘He is the Traveller.’

The voices rolled over his answer. They were all around, at once one and many, at once shouting from afar and whispering nearby. The word ‘Traveller’ was filled with many meanings. ‘You honour us with your presence, my lady, Sky Prince. Since the opening of the Ways and the Heartplace, the Song has grown and it has become ever more difficult for us to touch on human affairs. But we are always yours and as he speaks, so is our will.’

Gavor spread his wings, and Gulda said, very softly, ‘It is good to hear you again, Alphraan. May your Song sound through the ages.’

The voices rose in a wordless paean of gratitude that faded imperceptibly to become part of the sounds of the mountains.

The Traveller spoke. ‘We heard the voice of the Labyrinth, and when we listened we heard you seeking our help.’ Just as the voices of the Alphraan had filled the Traveller’s name with many meanings, so now, as he spoke the word ‘Labyrinth’ it carried with it complex resonances, dark and mysterious. Gulda and Gavor both found themselves shying away from the sound.

‘And can you help us?’

‘No.’ The Traveller’s voice was full of regret. ‘Not as you wish. The Labyrinth…’ Again the word was disturbing. ‘Is as great a mystery to us as it is to you. If not greater.’

‘Your kin controlled it at one point during the war – kept us from the Armoury at a time of need,’ Gulda challenged.

‘So I’ve heard. A mistake duly admitted and amends made for, I believe. But it was a deed that required no deep understanding or great skill on our part. We merely splashed water in your eyes but we knew – we know – little of the great tides that move the sea from whence it came. What has just happened is quite beyond us. Just as we have shaped the sounds of the world for longer than humanity has walked it, so the Labyrinth has stood from far before our own time. It is deeply strange. The many paths through it lead to many places… and many times.’ He looked at Gavor. ‘Paths that shift and change unseen like the paths you follow in the air, Sky Prince.’

‘Many paths?’ Gulda queried.

‘Many,’ the Traveller confirmed. ‘Though for the most part they cannot be mapped and measured. It is in their nature that to touch them is to change them.’

‘The path to the Armoury doesn’t change, and that’s been travelled often enough.’

‘The path to the Armoury merely changes slowly, my lady. Like these mountains – mote by mote.’ The Traveller scuffed his boot across the ground, raising a small cloud of dust and leaving a dark scar. ‘Others change like the seasons, others like the weather, but most change like the trembling of a leaf in the wind.’

‘How can we find these paths, then? How can we travel them?’

The Traveller gave Gulda a regretful look such as a teacher might give an intelligent child who has asked, ‘Why is this flower?’

‘No part of the Song tells that, my lady. And if the Song doesn’t tell it, mere words could never span it.’

Gulda’s brow furrowed and she tapped her stick on the rock. ‘I value your honesty, Traveller, but we need less mystery and more cold-edged knowledge. We need to know where this stranger has come from, and how. I’ve yet to hear who he is but I’d be more than surprised if whatever drove him here was something other than the cause of our present concerns.’

‘Where we can help, we will,’ the Traveller said, his manner anxious. ‘We will be with you in the trials that you fear are coming. Anderras Darion is second only to our Heartplace for us and our debt to you for the Opening of the Ways cannot be measured. But the Labyrinth is the Labyrinth. It is a thing made by men, and only men will fathom it.’

‘You just said it was older than any of us,’ Gulda retorted, not without a hint of irritation.

The Traveller flinched away from her tone. ‘Yes. It is. But I also told you it was deeply strange – a great mystery – and it is a thing made by men, for all that it’s older than men. It rings with their ways. No other creature could have made it.’ He reflected some of Gulda’s manner back to her. ‘No other creature would have wanted to.’

Gulda let out a noisy sigh. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I know we have both your heart and your will. It’s just…’

‘Difficult.’

‘Difficult indeed.’

The brief tension between them was gone.

‘And frightening,’ Gulda said. ‘Sumeral is whole once more, Traveller, and His Uhriel are born again. Stronger by far than they ever were and seemingly roaming unfettered in their own desolate world as they struggle to come here.’

‘We feared so. An echo of His ancient tongue, brief and distant, rent the Great Song but days ago,’ the Traveller replied, clenching his teeth as though he were in pain. ‘Foul beyond any imagining. There is no true light without darkness, nor true harmony without dissonance, but…’ He faltered, apparently unable to continue. Soft sounds rose up around the three figures. The Traveller seemed to draw sustenance from them. As he recovered, he shook his head slowly. ‘I have seen signs of His will, still active, on my journeying. That’s why I came home – or was drawn back. To think, to be with my kin, to see again the Great Gate and hear its song, to learn. I fear that many Ways are opening that should not. There is a great turbulence in the Labyrinth.’

Gulda did not press him. ‘I’ll confess, I’d hoped for more,’ she said gently. ‘I think we’re going to need our every resource to deal with what’s coming. But it’s good to know all’s well with you.’ She looked at him earnestly. ‘Speak to us as the spirit moves you, Traveller – wait on no asking – Anderras Darion is yours, as you know.’

The Traveller smiled sadly, then touched the rolls of cloth in his ears. ‘Unfortunately, the castle’s a little too noisy for me at times, but I understand. My kin still go there from time to time.’ He waggled his fingers teasingly. ‘Flickering shadows at the edge of your vision. We’ll be with you more than ever now. Listening where you cannot hear.’

There was a finality in his tone. There was nothing more he could say.

Gavor launched himself from Gulda’s shoulder, dropping down into the valley, then sweeping up again. ‘Jolly good, dear boy,’ he called out. ‘Much appreciated. We’ll keep an eye out for you.’

‘Thank you, Traveller, Alphraan,’ Gulda said as she too turned away. ‘We’ll carry your words to the others. It’ll be a reassurance, at least, to know you’re with us still, and your vigilance will be valued. Light be with you, Traveller.’

‘And with you, my lady. And you, Sky Prince.’

As Gulda walked away, the Traveller clambered back on to the rock where he had been sitting. Coming eventually to a sharp turn in the path, Gulda turned to look back at him. He had not moved. She flicked her stick at the distant figure by way of a parting salute.

‘Tell Thyrn you spoke to me.’ The Traveller’s voice sounded as though he were standing next to her. There was a regretful if not guilty note in it. ‘I didn’t like leaving him the way I did, but I… I was preoccupied. I needed to be back here. I made him safe, and I made sure his friends would find him.’