Roger Taylor - Into Narsindal

‘Good,’ Hawklan acknowledged, smiling at the con-fusion of relief and surprise that Loman was struggling to keep off his face.

Arinndier looked round at the others. Several wanted to speak, but many were also showing distinct signs of weariness. He glanced quickly at Hawklan for approval.

‘We’ve heard enough for tonight, I think,’ he said firmly, pulling himself upright in his chair. ‘Even though we’ve raised more questions than we’ve heard answers. I think it’s going to take us some time to acquaint one another thoroughly with what’s been happening and I see no benefit in going without sleep while we’re doing it.’

Gulda grunted approvingly and soon the group was breaking up noisily. Hawklan took Arinndier’s arm as he rose to leave. ‘First light tomorrow, Arin, we’ll send messengers to Riddin to find out what’s happened to your Queen,’ he said.

Arinndier bowed. ‘Thank you,’ he replied. ‘She’s probably all right. She had a good escort and she’s not without resource as you know, but these early snows… ’ He shrugged helplessly.

Hawklan walked with him to the door. ‘Your people did well, but I grieve for your losses,’ he said.

Arinndier nodded. ‘Your arrow bound him, Hawk-lan, and gave us the chance. Without that… ’

‘It’s of no relevance now,’ Hawklan said, raising a hand. ‘Loman’s arrow. Ethriss’s bow, my… ’ he smiled self-deprecatingly, ‘marksmanship. Many things made the whole, not least the courage and discipline of your men, and it was the whole that tilted the balance and gave us all a little more time. What’s important now is that we use it to the full.’ He motioned to Tirilen, standing nearby. ‘We’ve a great deal to talk about yet. I’m glad you’re here. Tirilen will show you and the others back to your rooms. We’ll talk further tomorrow.’

As he closed the door behind them softly, Hawklan paused. Then he turned and with a gesture further dimmed the torches.

Only Gulda remained in the room. She was sitting by the radiant stones which were now glowing red and, in the reduced light, casting her shadow on to the walls and ceiling like a great, dominating presence. In her characteristic pose, resting her chin on her hands folded over the top of her stick, she seemed the stillest thing in the room.

Hawklan sat down opposite her quietly. Gulda looked up at him and, for an instant, in the light of the dimmed torches and the glowing fire, he saw again a fleeting vision of a powerful woman of great and proud beauty. But as quickly as it had come the image was gone and she was an old woman again.

‘You knew that Dan-Tor was Oklar and didn’t tell me,’ Hawklan said, his voice even.

‘I thought… ’ Gulda began.

‘You knew ,’ Hawklan insisted, before she could continue.

Gulda lowered her eyes.

‘You reproach me,’ she said into the firelight.

‘Should I not?’ Hawklan replied.

Gulda was silent for a long time, then, ‘You had Ethriss’s sword and bow, arrows as good as could be made in this time, a fine horse, a stalwart friend… ’

‘Yes, you let Isloman go too,’ Hawklan interrupted. ‘Two men against an elemental force.’

Gulda looked up, her face scornful. ‘Don’t whine, Hawklan,’ she said. Her anger carried through into her voice all the more powerfully because it was command-ing in tone and quite free of the rasping irritation that normally laced her more severe rebukes. ‘Oklar is no elemental force, he’s a mortal man as you are. A flawed mortal man, corrupted by being given too great a power, as perhaps you might have been had you stood too close to Sumeral with your whingeing begging bowl of desires.’

Hawklan’s eyes narrowed in response to Gulda’s biting anger. ‘Don’t quibble, Memsa,’ he said, almost savagely. ‘You understand my meaning well enough. You knew who he was and you let me-us-go without any warning.’

Gulda turned her face towards the glowing stones again.

‘And you’d have me explain?’ she said. There was a strange helplessness in her voice.

Hawklan stared at her, his anger fading. ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘I’d have you explain that and many other things as well. Who you are? How you come to be here? How you know so many things about this Castle, about wars and armies? The list is long.’

Gulda nodded slowly but did not speak for some time. When she did, her voice was quiet.

‘I am what I am, Hawklan,’ she said simply. ‘And I am here because of what I was.’ She looked at him. ‘As are you. As are we all. And how I came to know what I know, you don’t need to know.’

‘Gulda!’ Hawklan made no effort to the keep the exasperation out of his voice.

She held his gaze. ‘Had I told you that Dan-Tor, that dancing twisting tinker who came to torment your little village with his corrupt wares, was Oklar the Uhriel, Sumeral’s first and greatest servant, with power to lift up whole mountain ranges or hurl them beneath the ocean, would you have believed me? And would you have done anything other than go and see for yourself in your doubts? And Isloman with you?’

Hawklan did not reply.

Gulda continued, ‘And had you believed me, would you still have done anything other?’

Hawklan lowered his eyes. ‘Damn you,’ he said after a long silence.

‘We had choice and no choice, Hawklan,’ Gulda said softly. ‘Both of us were free to walk away, but both of us were bound to our paths. It was ever thus for people such as you and I, people with the wit to see. And it ever will be.’

A faint reproach still flickered in Hawklan’s voice. ‘Perhaps had we known, we mightn’t have confronted him so recklessly,’ he said.

Gulda turned back to the softly whispering stones. Idly she prodded them with her stick, making a small flurry of cached sunlight spark upwards. Unexpectedly, she chuckled.

‘What would you have done to meet such a foe, assassin?’ she said mockingly. ‘Crept into his room at night to smother him or stab him? Bribed the Palace servants to poison his food?’

Hawklan frowned uncertainly.

‘No,’ Gulda went on. ‘You’d still have had to see first. Then having seen and decided, I suspect you’d have shot an arrow into his malevolent heart, wouldn’t you?’

Despite himself, Hawklan smiled ruefully at this cruelly perceptive analysis.

‘I was no different, Hawklan.’ Abruptly Gulda was explaining. ‘I could see no other way than to wait and see what would be. I could not face him myself… not yet. I was a spectator whether I wished it or not. All I could do was arm you with weapons of some worth, and have faith in the resources I saw within you.’

‘And had we died?’

‘You didn’t,’ Gulda’s reply was immediate.

‘But… ’

‘You didn’t,’ she repeated.

‘We might have!’ Hawklan insisted through her denial.

‘You might indeed,’ Gulda replied passionately. ‘But you still know I could have done nothing about it. I knew that you had to see him for what he truly was, and both my heart and my head told me that even if I could have given you a measure of the man-which I couldn’t, as you know now, he’s beyond description-it would have hindered you more than helped you. Clouded your vision with fear. Marred the true strength that only your… innocence… could take you to.’

Gulda turned again to her contemplation of the radiant stones. Hawklan leaned back into the comfort of his chair and looked at her stern profile, red in the firelight.

‘You were so certain of the outcome?’ he said after a while.

Gulda smiled ruefully. ‘Certain?’ she said. ‘Cer-tainty’s a rare luxury, Hawklan. The butterfly beats its wings and stirs the dust, which moves the grain, which moves the pebble, which… ’