Roger Taylor - The call of the sword

Arinndier and Darek both looked up sharply. Only Eldric’s seriousness and self-imposed discomfiture stopped them from laughing outright, as at some dubious jest by their friend. Hreldar’s expression did not change. He nodded.

Arinndier tried to steer his friend away from this embarrassment. His tone was gently humorous.

‘Eldric. You’ve been reading Festival tales to the children. Sumeral, the Guardians, the Uhriel-fairy tales. Or, at best, some ancient grain of truth distorted and embellished over the years.’ He felt a twinge of unease. Recent happenings might have started to unhinge his old friend and it entered his mind that it might fall to him to confront the King if Eldric was indeed failing.

But Eldric did not look like a failing old man. The speaking of his fears seemed to have lifted years from him.

‘No, Arin,’ he said firmly. ‘I’m right. And the more I think of it, the more certain I become.’ He levelled a finger at Arinndier. ‘You’ve forgotten what that place used to feel like when we patrolled there. It’s not just miserable and cold-our own mountain training equipped us for that. It’s evil, and it always has been. Our old legends contain much more than a grain of truth I’m sure; and Dan-Tor is part of it.’

‘Rubbish,’ burst out Darek, with substantially less regard for his friend’s finer feelings than Arinndier. ‘I’ll go along with your intuition about Dan-Tor being a menace. But children’s ogres? Never.’ Repenting slightly, he became conciliatory. ‘Sumeral is probably a residual race memory of some old bandit chieftain, or some bad Mandroc trouble once. We’re rational people… ’

‘No, Darek.’

Hreldar interrupted him, and laid a hand on his arm. ‘We’ve all been friends for a long time, and none of us would claim Eldric was gifted with a great imagina-tion.’ Eldric smiled slightly and the uneasy tension his strange proclamation had produced, lessened a little. ‘It’s cost him dear to say what he’s just said and I’ll trust his intuition all the way. You’ve only to think back to your grandparents to remember how they thought about Narsindal and Sumeral.’

Darek scowled. ‘No, I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘I respect your sincerity, Eldric, and yours, Hreldar, but what you’re saying is nonsense. If it were anyone else I’d say their brains had addled with being too long in the saddle. We’re an old people, strong in tradition and respect for the past. We’ve our legends and sagas, but we mustn’t confuse them with reality, for all our grandparents’ superstitions.’

To his surprise, Arinndier heard Eldric chuckle at this rebuke. He himself felt a little disorientated by this incredible turn in their discussion and was quite willing to let the others talk while he collected himself. At the moment he had to agree with Darek but, equally, he could not lightly put aside anything that Eldric said. Hreldar was right. Eldric had indeed precious little imagination or flare for the romantic, and it could not have been easy for him to say what he did.

‘I’ll give you some more facts then, Lawyer Darek,’ said Eldric, still chuckling. ‘Do you seriously maintain that our great body of literature-so coherent, so consistent-has come about just because of some old mountain bandit? Or our military traditions-so practical-the Riddin Muster, our High Guards-so well trained, so numerous-were intended to deal with a few marauding Mandrocs or Morlider?’

He waited until Darek was about to speak, then he leaned forward and spoke earnestly.

‘And do you seriously maintain that Narsindalvak, that enormous, towering fortress was built because of those same Mandrocs? Built in a manner we can’t begin to duplicate, I might add. No, Darek. Mandrocs are a nuisance, and have been a serious nuisance at times in the past, I’ll grant, but never a menace. We are what we are, and Narsindalvak is what it is, because long ago something massively evil came out of that place or… was imprisoned in it.’

He stood up. ‘Isn’t it part of our very Law? We’re the Watchers of Narsindal. The Protectors of the Orthlundyn and the Southern Lands. The Riddinvolk with their Muster guard the Pass of Elewart-the only other exit from Narsindal-and they kept their Muster well up to scratch even before the Morlider turned nasty. The more I think about it, the more I remember what Narsindal used to feel like, the more I’m convinced that something evil’s afoot, and when it’s ready it’ll come out of Narsindal, and if we do nothing, Fyorlund will fall like a rotten tree.’

His tone had suddenly become sombre, and when he sat down he looked grim. Darek’s face was tight and anxious. Arinndier recognized that he was exercising the discipline of the Geadrol, and thinking well before he spoke, but it was obviously proving an effort. He seized the opportunity.

‘Lords, let us be formal,’ he said firmly. The others bowed in acquiescence and some relief at this tradi-tional call. The King might have suspended the Geadrol but its ways were sound and practical and should be applied here before they went to see the King, otherwise they would spend the evening in fruitless and wandering discussion, perhaps even acrimony, neither reaching conclusions nor making plans. Arinndier spoke again, clearly and steadily as at a First Gathering.

‘The Lord Eldric has raised for discussion the sug-gestion that the Lord Dan-Tor is an agent of an unknown enemy in Narsindal, and that he has worked assiduously to destroy our ability to stand as effective resistance to this enemy.’ He listed the points that Eldric had raised and finished equally formally. ‘Lord Darek, continue.’

Darek raised his hands as if to speak, then he low-ered them, and folding his arms, leaned back in his chair and looked down pensively.

‘Lord Darek?’ Arinndier prompted.

Darek spoke very quietly. ‘I can only treat your Gathering as being acceptable.’ He paused reluctantly. ‘A childish memory has just reminded me that Sumeral had many human servants and they were granted immortality. I must add to your Gathering that Dan-Tor looks no different today than he did when we first saw him.’

Despite the discipline of the Geadrol, a flicker of distaste passed over his face.

‘Accepted, Lord Darek,’ said Arinndier. ‘Lord Hreldar, continue.’

Hreldar moved his right hand across his body from left to right, palm downwards, in a cutting motion. He had nothing to say.

‘Lord Eldric, continue.’

Eldric made the same gesture.

‘All the evidence is thus accepted as being adequate as First Face?’

They all nodded.

‘This being accepted then, we each know it is our duty to seek further evidence on this matter as circum-stances permit. I raise for discussion next, the matter of what action should be taken to protect the King, the Lords, and the people, should the King’s accounting be found wanting or should his behaviour enhance this First Face evidence.’

It had been an inspired move by Arinndier to for-malize their discussion after Eldric’s extraordinary suggestion. In addition to preventing the night being wasted in angry argument, it also gave some shape, however apparently absurd, to the nameless and vague unease which all knew had been growing for many years. Now they could focus their attention on the immediate problem of what practical action they should take when they spoke to the King the following day and, still maintaining their formal procedure, they spent several hours talking away the frustration of the last few days by deciding their detailed tactics for the immediate future-insofar as they could foretell it.

Outside, the Lord Dan-Tor’s globes wavered a little in the night breeze, buzzing as they shone their garish light across the square. The heat from them twisted upwards and wasted itself into the night as if in fruitless homage to the stars whose light they hid. Occasionally a figure would walk across the square, and feeling exposed in the brightness would move rapidly for the darker shadows at the edges.