Roger Taylor - The waking of Orthlund

Andawyr grimaced in self-reproach. ‘Well, I can’t criticize you for that, I suppose. I’ve been at the heart of these events and even I have difficulty in accepting their reality now I’m back here in our old familiar surround-ings.’ He slapped the arms of his chair affectionately. ‘Still, comforting surroundings or no, a new reality has come to pass and we must face it squarely.’ He looked at Ryath and smiled almost mischievously. ‘I know my tale’s strange, and lacks the niceties you’d appreciate, so I’ll not ask you if you’ve any questions, only amp;mdashdo you have any doubts?’

Ryath shook his head. ‘No,’ he said. ‘You’re not what you were. I’ve got more questions than I can count, but I’m afraid I believe you utterly even though I’d rather not.’

‘Thank you, Ryath,’ Andawyr said, bowing. Then to the rest, ‘Do any of you have any doubts about my tale?’

Oslang shook his head. ‘No, Andawyr,’ he said. ‘Don’t be concerned. We too are not what we were. Controlling the eye of the Goleg shook some of us quite severely, and don’t forget, we saw the state you were in at the end of your journey, and listened to your ramblings for several days.’ He leaned forward signifi-cantly. ‘And don’t forget too how deep you were, even when we allowed you to wake again.’

Andawyr nodded and smiled. ‘Yes, of course,’ he said. ‘Forgive my arrogance in imagining that I was the only one who could learn anything new round here.’ Then he laughed outright and his sudden humour spread round the circle.

‘Look,’ he said, pointing to the window openings. ‘The sun still shines. Those hills and plains and the ocean over there teem with Ethriss’s great gift of life. Some power has arisen in Orthlund, as unseen and unsung as Sumeral himself. The Muster rides strong as ever to guard the Pass. The Fyordyn High Guard will guard the passes that breech their northern boundary… ’

Oslang raised a staying hand. ‘There are rumours abroad of… strange… happenings in Fyorlund,’ he said. ‘That the High Guards of the Lords have been replaced by black-liveried guards such as you described in Narsindal.’

Andawyr inclined his head to catch this message, but his flow continued, redirected. ‘Yes, rumours, rumours,’ he said. ‘In that one word, perhaps you have the crux of our neglect.’

‘Neglect?’ Oslang echoed.

‘Neglect,’ Andawyr confirmed.

‘Why are we all here?’ he asked suddenly.

Oslang shrugged vaguely at this unexpected ques-tion. ‘We continue the work of our predecessors appointed by Ethriss against the Second Coming of Sumeral,’ he recited.

Andawyr accepted and dismissed the answer. ‘Yes, but why are we all here?’

Oslang scowled. ‘Really,’ he said. ‘What do you mean?’

Andawyr opened his palms wide. ‘We are all here ,’ he said. ‘At least a quarter of us should be out in the world. Travelling, learning, watching, listening. How long have we been like this? Skulking in our hole in the ground. Sitting here staring out of the windows and listening to gossip and rumour is no way to increase our knowledge and even less of a way to fulfil our duty to watch for the Second Coming.’

There was some awkward shuffling around the cir-cle. ‘I think you’re exaggerating,’ Ryath said, mildly indignant. ‘There’s usually someone out travelling. We’re all here now largely because of you… ’

Andawyr rounded on him, mildly scornful. ‘I’m probably the widest travelled one among us, but where do I get to? Round and about Riddin, and mainly northern Riddin at that. Gossiping with our neighbours, buying supplies.’

‘And Narsindal,’ someone said, defending his leader against his own assault.

‘Yes, Narsindal,’ Andawyr agreed reflectively. ‘But apart from my recent escapade, how long ago is it since any of us travelled any distance? Too long by far. And who here can claim an undying interest in Mandroc lore?’

His humour faded and he screwed up his face as the significance of his complaint began to make itself felt.

‘Why has this happened?’ he said anxiously, almost to himself. ‘When I was a student here I travelled with several of the senior brothers. We went everywhere. Up into Narsindal to study the place generally and to keep contact with at least some of the Mandroc families. South, right through Riddin. I’ve been through Fyor-lund, seen Vakloss, bustling and busy amp;mdashmarvellous. We even trailed out to Narsindalvak once and saw the Watch patrols coming and going. Talked with the Commander there. I’ve been across to Orthlund. Seen little Pedhavin and its carvers, and Anderras Darion with its Great Gate standing silent and closed. I’ve caught the fisherman’s ferries over into Eirthland… ’

He stopped again and looked at the others. ‘Most of us did the same, didn’t we? In differing degrees. How did we suddenly come to be so… housebound… parochial… so tiny and fearful in our ways?’

No one volunteered an answer. ‘I’m beginning to wonder if in some way His will has bound us even here,’ he continued.

There were murmurs of denial from his listeners, but they were half-hearted. Andawyr nodded. ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘I’m sailing near the truth, aren’t I? Fine guardians of knowledge we are. Protectors of Ethriss’s charge. Anderras Darion has stood open for twenty years, and we didn’t know! Resources were marshalled somewhere to recreate a Vrwystin A Kaethio, and we didn’t know! The eyes of Vrwystin A Goleg flew among us, and we didn’t see them until one of them sat up and bit us! And we sit in lofty isolation, nurturing our existing knowl-edge like cows chewing cud. Gazing out over the countryside and waiting for rumours to arrive.’

He stood up, suddenly angry. ‘In Ethriss’s name, what have we become?’ he shouted. ‘What have we done?’ Then equally suddenly his voice fell and reaching back he leaned heavily on the arm of his chair. ‘What have I done? This is my fault.’

He lowered himself into his chair, his face shocked.

There was an uneasy silence in the room as the assembled brothers looked to each other for guidance. Andawyr’s denunciation had welled up from nowhere and struck them like a stinging winter squall. Now their leader sat silent and stunned, seemingly overwhelmed by what he saw as his own guilt.

Ryath’s voice cut through the tension, forceful and stern. ‘Nonsense, Andawyr,’ he said. ‘You’re over-simplifying again. And you’re being too emotional. You’re right about our neglect. It’s a grim picture and all the more so because it’s so blatantly obvious now.’ He stood up and walked across to Andawyr. ‘But you’re wrong about your responsibility. It’s been a collective neglect. We each know the duties of the Order, we each know we must fulfil them. You’re our guide, not our keeper.’

Andawyr looked up at him, his face still pained. Ryath continued relentlessly. ‘As for the cause of this neglect, that’s irrelevant. Be it His hand or our folly, we’ve neither fact nor rumour to help us there. Suffice it that we see it now and our duty is to act, not to conjec-ture. You’re the only person who’s remotely suited to be our leader. Do what you’re best at amp;mdashlead.’ He swung his arm around the watching circle. ‘Teach these your new knowledge, as you taught me. Help us correct our lapse, whatever its cause. Don’t compound it by wallowing in self pity.’

Several of the brothers gasped at the bluntness of Ryath’s last remark, and Oslang rose to intervene. Andawyr’s distressed expression vanished and for an instant his face became thunderous. Ryath grimaced as if anticipating a blow, but he held both his ground and Andawyr’s gaze.

After a moment Andawyr said sharply. ‘Sit down, Ryath. You’re talking out of turn again.’