Roger Taylor - The waking of Orthlund

‘But what are we going to do, Memsa?’ Ireck asked anxiously. ‘What’s happened? We need more weapons. I doubt we’ve enough upstairs for all our training needs, and even with these here there won’t be enough for any large distribution. We have to be able to get into the Armoury. We… ’

Gulda patted his arm affectionately, and turned him towards the exit. ‘Yes, you’re right, Ireck,’ she said. ‘We do have a serious problem here, but it won’t affect us immediately, and not all our training is weapons training, is it? The important thing is that we mustn’t allow this to interfere with our overall intention, must we?’

Ireck nodded, but looked doubtful. He folded his arms as if to protect himself from something. ‘It’s a bad feeling, Memsa,’ he said. ‘The Castle turning against us like this.’

Gulda’s face became stern. ‘It’s not the Castle, Ireck,’ she said forcefully. ‘Trust me. The Castle’s protecting us as it always has and always will. Never think otherwise.’

She turned to the rest of the group, before Ireck could voice any doubts. ‘I think I know what’s happened here,’ she said. ‘But I have to think about it. And I have to talk with Loman. When that’s done, then we’ll all talk and decide what to do. In the meantime, we must continue with our work. Nothing must deflect us from that.’ Her piercing blue eyes scanned her listeners, defying any argument.

As the group left, she instructed Athyr to accom-pany Yrain to Tirilen. ‘The silly girl’s foot needs attention,’ she said. ‘And there’s nothing you can do here for the time being. Tell Tirilen that it’s important I have Yrain fit and well again as soon as possible. I’m afraid we may have a rough time ahead of us, and I want no weak vessels with us.’

Then she turned to Yrain. ‘Last chance, girl,’ she said with a sudden power and grimness that made even Loman start. ‘You do exactly what Tirilen says. And start now learning to listen. Either that or school yourself to the idea of making your contribution from your village infantry group.’ Yrain’s brow furrowed and her mouth became a tight, rebellious line. Gulda bent forward towards her, blue eyes terrible. ‘You should know by now I don’t speak just to hear my own voice, girl. Your scatterbrained notions of independence are going to get someone killed eventually. Someone, perhaps, that you’re fond of. Someone, perhaps, that I’m fond of, and… ’ Her voice faltered slightly. ‘I’ve lost enough already. We all stand on each others’ shoulders round here. In future, if you’ve any bright ideas of your own, spit them out so that we can all debate them, otherwise be under no illusions, you are out .’

The last three words were articulated slowly and came out like dagger thrusts. Yrain, already pale due to the pain in her foot, went paler still under Gulda’s onslaught. Her mouth worked vaguely, as if she were searching for words, but all she managed was a very faint, ‘Yes, Memsa,’ before reaching out to Athyr for support.

‘That was a bit severe, wasn’t it?’ Loman said when the couple had left, Yrain leaning heavily on Athyr and looking very young.

‘No,’ Gulda said, brusquely. ‘She hasn’t the judge-ment to use that kind of initiative yet. She could be a considerable asset, but if she can’t learn what it means to be part of a team, as well as being an individual, she’ll be a monumental liability. You can’t fight properly if you’re wondering what someone like that’s doing instead of guarding your back, you know that. If she doesn’t buck up, she goes.’

A flick of her hand ended the debate. Loman was not unrelieved. Gulda was right about Yrain, but he found the making of such decisions difficult and was quite willing to let Gulda carry the burden. He knew too, though, that the scene he had just witnessed was also to highlight for him this particular weakness in his leadership. He too must learn to accept the truly harsh responsibilities of his position.

He shifted his weight from one foot to the other as the memory of Yrain’s pain came to him briefly, then, dragging his mind back to the present, he turned to the labyrinth and said, ‘It’s the Alphraan, isn’t it? Children amp;mdashlittle people, using sound like that. What have they done? And how?’

Gulda did not reply at first, but walked forward until Loman heard the sound of the labyrinth stirring. Then, as before, she prowled back and forth across the hall, as if making out a boundary or testing for a way through.

Cautiously he joined her. ‘You don’t ask why?’ she said, stopping in front of him.

Loman replied without hesitation. ‘They said they’d oppose us, and now they are doing so,’ he said. ‘Though why they should, defeats me. And I never dreamt they’d come down out of the mountains to do it. I thought they’d carry on as before, just interfering with our mountain training.’

Gulda nodded. ‘We misjudged them,’ she said. ‘And now they’ve struck right to our heart.’

Loman frowned. ‘What can we do?’ he said. ‘We’re lost if we can’t gain access to the Armoury.’

‘Can’t we make the weapons we need?’ Gulda asked.

Loman looked at her in surprise. It was a peculiarly defeated comment. ‘Given time,’ he said. ‘Smithing’s not common in Orthlund. There’s only a few of us capable of that kind of work, though I suppose we could bring on some of the apprentices more quickly in an emer-gency. But will we be able to get into the mountains for the raw materials?’

But Gulda was already waving the answer into obliv-ion, moving any from her brief lapse. ‘No, no,’ she said. ‘It was a foolish idea. Besides we may not have the time.’ Her voice fell. ‘Not if Hawklan’s met Dan-Tor.’

She stood still and silent after this remark, and Lo-man turned his gaze back to the gloomy columns. With their concerns about the Alphraan, it was almost the first time that Hawklan’s name had been mentioned since Loman had been hurled from the labyrinth.

The silence hung about them like a reproach.

‘What do you think has happened to him?’ Loman said hesitantly after some time.

Gulda shook her head a little. ‘I’ve no idea,’ she said quietly. ‘I wish I had. My heart says he’s not dead, and my reason tells me that Okl… Dan-Tor… has not had his way entirely, or his armies would have been at our gates by now. But what’s happened, where is Hawklan… or Gavor?’ She shrugged and fell silent again.

For a while the only sound in the hall was the sinis-ter whispering of the labyrinth.

‘But it makes no difference,’ she said abruptly, bang-ing her stick on the floor. The sound spread outwards like ripples in a still pond, to return almost immedi-ately, transmuted by the labyrinth into a deep pulsating echo that filled the hall like a cavernous laugh. ‘What we’re doing is all we can do, whether Hawklan comes back to us or not.’

She turned round and walked a few paces away from the invisible new boundary that the labyrinth seemed to have set. ‘If he comes back, he’ll have urgent problems at his heels for sure, and he’ll be none too pleased if we’ve been dragging ours. And if he doesn’t come back… ’ She paused. ‘Then at least we’ll be ready to face whatever’s brought him low.’

Before Loman could comment, she was stumping towards the archway that led from the hall. ‘We’ve got a serious problem, Loman,’ she said, as he came alongside her. ‘The labyrinth’s a fearful device, Anderras Darion’s ultimate defence. If the circumstances so determined, it could spread its influence throughout the entire Castle.’

‘What do you mean?’ Loman asked uncertainly.

Gulda frowned. ‘Exactly what I said. The labyrinth can reach out to protect all parts of the Castle if need arises.’