Roger Taylor - The waking of Orthlund

‘This is the way it was before?’ Loman asked. Jenna nodded. Loman pulled a sour face. ‘How many have been hurt?’ he said, turning to Tybek.

‘About a dozen or so, I think,’ Tybek said hesitantly, still uncomprehending.

‘Get the healer to look to those immediately,’ Loman said to Jenna. ‘Then start casually gathering them into groups. Talk to them as we agreed until they’re more settled. Then see if you can get any of them to talk about what’s happened amp;mdashor what they think has happened.’

As Jenna walked off, Loman looked up at the sur-rounding mountains. Everything was still and silent, and except for a signaller standing high on a prominent ledge, there was no sign of any living creature. The sight of the signaller reminded him of something, but the thought refused to form and with a slight frown he turned back to the camp.

Several hours later, as the sun dipped behind the mountains and low evening clouds began to form around the higher peaks, Loman and Jenna led the duty patrol into the central camp. With them were Tybek and the others from camp three.

An anxious crowd headed by a young man wearing a duty officer’s sash was waiting for them.

‘No one’s been seriously injured,’ Loman said, be-fore anyone could speak. ‘There’s a couple who’ll have to go back to the Castle, but the rest can be tended here.’ He smiled wearily. ‘Leave them to the tender hands of Tirilen’s trainees amp;mdashthat’ll teach them not to fight amongst themselves.’

But neither the news nor the jest affected the crowd’s concern.

‘What’s the matter?’ Loman said, frowning.

‘There’s been serious fighting at camp six,’ said the duty officer suddenly, as if anxious to be rid of his burden.

‘How serious?’ Loman said.

‘We don’t know,’ said the man. ‘The last message we got said, "send no more amp;mdashAthyr", and then they stopped.’

‘Stopped?’ Loman said.

The man nodded. ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘The stations in sight of camp six stopped responding.’

Loman looked at Jenna, his face tense and pale. ‘We never signalled back,’ he said hoarsely. ‘Told them what we’d done.’

Jenna looked down. ‘He mightn’t have seen it, on the move,’ she offered after a moment, but the comment held no consolation.

Loman closed his eyes and bowed his head.

‘I’ll get the injured attended to straight away, Lo-man.’ The duty officer’s voice brought him back to the present. ‘And make arrangements for the quartering of camp three, but what shall I do about Athyr?’

Loman rubbed his finger on his forehead absently, then looked up at the purpling sky. Some of the mountain top clouds were red in the glow of the unseen sun, others were now leaden and cold.

‘Have all the signallers been reinforced?’ he asked.

‘Yes.’

‘Send this,’ Loman said. ‘"Look at the evening light, Orthlundyn. Look at the shadows and the rock. Turn your minds to your carving."’

The man frowned uncertainly. ‘I don’t understand,’ he said.

‘Just send it,’ Loman said decisively. ‘And tell the signallers to keep repeating it until they get a response from every station.’ Still uncertain, the man looked up at him. ‘Through the night, or until I countermand the order,’ Loman said, anticipating the next question.

The man nodded to a nearby signaller who ran off immediately. ‘But what have I to do about Athyr?’ he asked again, turning back to Loman.

‘Nothing,’ Loman said, ‘Jenna and I will go to camp six alone, now. See that the night duty patrol is alert and that everybody else is bedded down early. Tomorrow could prove to be trying. I want everybody fresh.’

‘Do you want me to come with you?’ Tybek asked.

Loman shook his head. ‘No,’ he said. ‘Stay here. Tell everyone what’s happened, and if you haven’t had a signal from us by dawn, move out in force.’ He raised a warning finger. ‘But gently, Tybek, gently.’

While the light held, Loman and Jenna maintained a steady trot, but as it failed they were obliged to slow down to a walk. For a while they had to strike their torches, but eventually a full moon rose above the peaks and filled the valleys with glistening silver light.

Above them, Loman’s message flickered from peak to peak, as torches replaced the daytime flags.

Jenna shivered, and wrapped her cloak about her.

‘Cold?’ Loman asked.

‘Inside and out,’ she replied. ‘Cold, sick, guilty, eve-rything, Loman. And still frightened.’

He leaned over and laid his hand on her arm. ‘The fear, you’ll handle,’ he said. ‘I know you. As for the guilt amp;mdashleave it for another time.’

Jenna made to speak but Loman shook his head. ‘I know we made a mistake in not signalling back what we’d done, but you were quite right, Athyr mightn’t have seen the message while he was on the move. And if he had there’s no saying he would have been as lucky as we were. Save the guilt, Jenna, until we know what’s happened, and until we’re both less tired.’

‘I’ll try,’ she said flatly. ‘But… ’ She abandoned the sentence and for some time the two rode along in silence.

Reaching the end of a long incline, they found them-selves on a broad rounded shoulder between two mountains. Halfway up one of them a signal light moved. Loman lifted his fingers to his mouth and whistled.

‘Any news from camp six?’ his message said.

The sudden piercing noise made Jenna start, and shook her out of her preoccupation.

The lights above faltered and, reacting to her imme-diate alarm, Jenna smiled. ‘You’ll frighten them to death, Loman,’ she said. ‘They probably think you’re Alphraan.’ Loman nodded and striking his torch waved it in a wide arc over his head. He whistled the message again.

‘No,’ came back the curt reply. Then, after a pause, ‘Good luck. Will keep sending your message.’

Loman acknowledged with another whistle and a wave of his torch then he peered down into the moonlit valley below.

‘How far’s the camp from here?’ he asked.

‘Not far,’ Jenna replied. ‘A couple of hours at this speed.’ She pointed. ‘It’s round that spur,’ she said. ‘It’s only just out of sight, but you’ll not see it until we’re almost on top of it.’

Loman nodded. ‘And the signal stations?’ he said.

Jenna indicated three well-spaced peaks. Loman glowered into the shining darkness, remembering his own helplessness in the thrall of the Alphraan. How many of his people were lying thus now? He clicked his horse forward.

A wave of anger washed over him at the thought of the signallers, bound and impotent in their high sanctuaries. But something diverted it into more reflective considerations.

There were inconsistencies in what had happened. The predominant weather in the mountains was cloudy, with mist and rain making visual signalling difficult. Presumably therefore the Alphraan had chosen such a clear day for their attack so that some form of investi-gating force would be drawn into the fray. Yet if this were so, why would they paralyse the communications from one and not the other?

Perhaps the weight of numbers was indeed present-ing them with problems? Perhaps they had a strategy whose subtlety couldn’t yet be seen? It occurred to Loman that random and inconsistent behaviour was an admirable tactic for destroying morale. Perhaps again they were random and inconsistent, either through their nature, or because, as Gulda reasoned, they were divided amongst themselves?

‘Riders.’

Jenna’s whisper cut through Loman’s circling specu-lation. He felt his pulse start to race as he reined to a halt. ‘Where?’ he whispered in reply, as if fearful of what the dark shadows around them might hear.