Brian Rathbone: The Dawning of Power

"Easy, Gunder," Benjin said as he sheathed his knife.

"They said you were coming," Gunder said as he trembled. "I didn't believe them."

"We're your friends," Benjin said.

"Yes," Gunder said, still looking terrified. "Yes, we are friends. I… caught your mare for you. And… and… you saved my pig that time it got caught in the fence! You remember, don't you?"

"Yes, Gunder, I remember. We're friends."

"Oh, thank you," Gunder said. "Thank you for understanding."

"Why are you here?" Catrin asked, her fury unabated.

"The Masters keep horses here," Gunder said, his eyes cast low. "I'm to care for 'em."

Catrin's anger could find no target. This man was her friend. Once again she made herself stuff the rage down inside, deep in her gut where she could contain it.

"What's the news on the treaties?" Benjin asked.

Gunder looked from Benjin to Catrin. "I'm so sorry," he said. "There'll be no treaty. The blood scourge, as they're calling it, has everyone scared out of their wits. It gives the Masters power since only they know the will of the gods."

"What about Wendel?"

"Charged with treason," Gunder said in a low voice. "I'm so sorry. He's to be executed tomorrow. I thought he had a chance. The council argued for days, but when they heard you were comin', fear won again."

His words were like a punch in the stomach, and Catrin reeled. Could it be that she was bringing about her vision by her very attempts to stop it?

"Where?" Benjin growled.

"The Masterhouse."

"Boil Edling in grease," Benjin said. "We'll never even get close. They know we're coming."

"They do," Gunder said, "but they won't be expectin' you to look like a wine barrel."

In the darkness, Catrin tried to anticipate the next bump; already she was covered in bruises. It seemed like days since they left the cold caves, bound for the Masterhouse. Gunder would make his delivery of wine, cheese, and meat as scheduled, and Catrin could only hope his wagon would not be thoroughly searched. The hole, through which she had her only access to fresh air, seemed terribly small from inside the barrel, but she could see through it. When she wasn't gulping for air, she watched the landscape slide by.

The sound of hooves and wagon wheels on wood echoed around her, and Catrin watched as they crossed over one of the many small streams that ran through the lowlands. As the wagon turned, Catrin got a clear view of the countryside. Seeing the Masterhouse in the distance knotted her guts, though she was struck by how much smaller it was than she remembered it. Somehow, her travels across such vast distances had forever changed her perception of the world. Life had been so much easier when her world had extended only as far as the top of the lake. Now everything was different.

As Gunder drove the wagon into the line at the guardhouse, Catrin began to tremble and sweat. Time moved slowly, and she thought she might never get out of the barrel. The wood slats seemed to move ever closer, constricting her like a giant snake. Her face pressed against the wood, she sucked air through the hole and tried to calm herself.

"Delivery for the banquet," she heard Gunder say.

Closing her eyes, she held her breath. Only when the wagon began rolling did she draw another breath. Gunder angled toward the kitchen service entrance, and Catrin watched as a flurry of servants prepared for a gathering, even as crowds of people were already arriving. The Masters would treat her father's execution as a banquet, a reason for celebration! Barely able to contain her anger, Catrin ran her fingers over Koe, the feel of him giving her comfort. Outside the barrel, hidden in the straw, her staff awaited, and she missed the feel of it in her hands. Afraid someone might recognize it, she had covered the heel and much of the shaft with mud. It was a poor disguise, but it was the best that she could do.

When the wagon stopped, Catrin waited, her inner tension mounting. Servants unloaded the cheese and other supplies, and she knew they would come for the wine soon. A gentle knock was her cue, and she carefully pushed the lid open and to the side before crawling out. Benjin emerged from his barrel a moment later, his face a mask of pain, but he made no sound. Bruised and cramped, Catrin understood his pain, and she stood as quickly as she could. Chase and Prios soon joined them.

Moving with increasing haste, she pulled her staff from the straw. Benjin and Chase were ready with their borrowed swords.

"That's all I can do," Gunder said. "They'll know you're here soon-one way or 'nother. You'd best do whatever ya can now. I need to be away from here before I'm found out. I'll see you north o' the Wall." Without another word, Gunder walked away, looking as if nothing were amiss.

Catrin envied his ability to mask emotion. She jumped at the sound of servants returning, but then there was big uproar from the great covered terrace that stood as the Masterhouse's main entrance. There, a crowd gathered. This was not an expectant crowd, ready for feast and revelry. There was sadness in the air, and something far more horrible in Catrin's perception: acceptance. These people did not want to see her father put to death, but none would stand up to stop it, perhaps believing themselves powerless.

Before the servants could return, Catrin pulled her hood up and walked hunched over, as if in need of the staff to support her. Benjin kept his eyes low, and they did their best to blend in with the crowd. Chase and Prios stayed separate but nearby. When finally Catrin got a glimpse of those on the terrace, she saw a pair of meaty guards holding her father, who hung between them, a haunted look in his eyes. He looked so much older than Catrin remembered, and her rage returned. He could not defend himself, and these cowards would take him from her.

Fate left her no more time to contemplate, for she saw a servant rush up to Master Edling. After the servant whispered in his ear, Master Edling ran his eyes over the crowd, searching for her. Despite nagging fears, Catrin knew she had no more time to waste. This was her last chance for salvation. As she cast back her hood, she threw her arms wide. Holding her staff high, she opened herself to the flow. In her weakened state, the flood of energy nearly washed her away, but she bit her lip and made herself endure. Benjin raised his head and drew his sword, a look of pessimistic determination on his face, as if he fought a battle he knew he would lose.

Angry, red plasma crawled over Catrin's hands and arms, and the crowd parted, rolling away like rippling water from around a tossed stone. Before her, Catrin saw her father, his guards, the Masters, and the members of the council. For a moment the sight of Baker Hollis, the man who had killed her mother and aunt, distracted her. He had stolen from her the most precious things, and now he stood in accusation of her father. A growl escaped her throat as she approached.

Master Edling watched and smiled. "Come, Miss Volker. Join your father!"

For an instant, Catrin hesitated. She sensed no fear from Master Edling, and her instincts shouted in warning. Fear poured from every other soul present but not Edling; he was like a stone. Step after step, Catrin drew closer to him and to her father.

When Wendel heard her name, he raised his tired eyes and screamed. "No! Get away from here, Cat. I don't want you to see this!"

Catrin longed to embrace him, but she turned her gaze to Edling as if she could bore holes in him with her eyes.

"Go ahead. Run away," Master Edling said, standing behind a lectern of stone. "Spend the rest of your life trying to picture it in your mind, all the while knowing you left him to die."

"Lies!" Wendel shouted, and one of the guards cuffed him on the back of the head. Catrin lashed out at the guard; a rope of lightning and fire sent him flying backward, and he landed in a smoking heap. Again Edling smiled, and Catrin gathered all her fury and rage. Determined to incinerate him, she launched her attack. Quicker than she would have thought him capable of, Master Edling ducked down, picked something up, and thrust it in front of him. The object was like nothing Catrin had ever seen. The size of a melon but with a pocked surface, it looked metallic, and it drew Catrin's energy just as the statue's negative core had done.