Emily Rodda - The Lake of Tears

Soldeen is the monster who haunts my dreams, and I fear he always will. Soldeen lurks in the murky depths of the Lake of Tears. Normally he feeds on the blind, crawling things that infest his hideous domain, but he will ravenously attack anyone or anything foolish enough to set foot on his shore.

Created by the sorcery of Thaegan, Soldeen can breathe both air and water, and is able to speak. He can swim with great speed, and will throw himself onto the lake’s shore in pursuit of food.

I learned of Soldeen on the night of my escape from the palace. I had found shelter in a small inn, telling the surly innkeeper I was a traveller. He did not believe me, and no wonder. My clothes, and the books I carried, made my story unlikely. He took the ring I offered, however, and gave me a dirty attic where clearly no one had stayed for years. He guessed I would not complain.

His meanness was a stroke of luck. Looking for a place to store my books, I found, in a dusty cupboard, a jumbled heap of things left by previous tenants. Among them were pages of Ralad writing, and drawings of a gigantic beast. The drawings were labelled SOLDEEN. The writings (which fortunately I could understand, having learned Ralad script as a child) told of a monster who guarded the Lake of Tears, killing all who ventured into his domain.

Possibly the Ralad travellers who once stayed in that attic had meant to take the papers to the palace. Some misfortune had plainly overtaken them before they could complete their mission. The mission was doomed anyway. If the papers had been delivered, they would surely have been destroyed before the king saw them. As it was, they were thrown into a cupboard by a lazy innkeeper and at last found by me.

My candle burned low as I read of the terror of Soldeen and the sufferings of Raladin. I shuddered as I studied the images that the Ralad artists had made. I saw that evils beyond anything I had ever imagined were abroad in Deltora. By the time dawn broke, I knew that I had more to do than guard Deltora’s memories. I had to use what talents I possessed to record the evils of its present as well. And thus the idea for this book was born.

The rise of a powerful sorceress in Deltora’s northeast was first noted in The Deltora Annals during the last years of Queen Elspeth, the present king’s great-grandmother.

The Sorceress Thaegan is said to have inherited her magical abilities from her mother, a wisewoman named Tamm. Tamm was much respected by her neighbors in the northern village of Nest, for she could make successful love potions and cast healing spells. It was also said that she could transform herself into a blackbird at will.

Thaegan’s powers were much stronger than Tamm’s, however, and, unhappily, though the girl was beautiful to look upon, her nature was cruel and spiteful. Bored by her mother’s simple life, she turned to dark magic to satisfy her taste for power. Tamm tried to reason with her, and finally to control her, but to no avail. Thaegan broke through the shutting spell Tamm had woven around their cottage, and fled into the mountains that separate Deltora from the Shadowlands.

We cannot know what happened to her there, or what hideous bargain she may have struck with the evil forces she summoned to her hideaway. We only know that when she came down from the mountains again, seven years later, she was more powerful than any sorceress Deltora had ever seen, and her reign of terror over the north began.

Nearly a hundred years have passed, but the Sorceress Thaegan is today still alive and more powerful than ever. Her malice has increased with age. She is said to relish blackbirds for food — no doubt in spiteful memory of her mother. Despite a life of wickedness that has spanned over a century, she continues to have the appearance of a beautiful woman. The dread horror that must lurk beneath this illusion can only be imagined.

Witches, it is said, can be killed by drawing blood, but Thaegan is free from the fear of injury, for she is armored by magic. Her body shines green as glass — protected by a surface that no arrow or spear can injure. The only exception is the tip of one little finger, the finger with which she casts her vile spells.

Though the king continues to be unaware of her existence, the people know of her only too well. Few now dare to travel through her territory. Those who have done so in the past have either never returned, or crawled back to their homes stricken in body and mind. Vast areas of countryside in the north have been laid waste. Notable among these wastelands is the hideous Lake of Tears, which floods the place where once shone the golden towers of D’Or.

Thaegan destroyed D’Or out of pure hatred — hatred of its beauty and its people’s happiness. When the neighboring folk of Raladin cried out against the destruction, she took away their voices so they could speak no more.

The Sorceress Thaegan has thirteen children, all of them foul, monstrous beings which aid her in her tyranny and plunder the countryside. They are not as powerful as their mother but like her can create illusions and transform their shapes at will. Whether they were fathered by the forces of darkness or simply brought forth by Thaegan on her own account is not known.

It was the season for skimmers, and this year more skimmers than ever were coming over the Wall of Weld.

From dusk till dawn, the beasts flapped down through the cloud that shrouded the top of the Wall. They showered on the dark city like giant, pale falling leaves, leathery wings rasping, white eyes gleaming, needle teeth glinting in the dark.

The skimmers came for food. They came to feast on the warm-blooded creatures, animal and human, that lived within the Wall of Weld.

On the orders of the Warden, the usual safety notices had been put up all over the city. Few people bothered to read them, because they were always the same. But this year, in Southwall, where Lisbeth the beekeeper lived with her three sons, they had been covered with disrespectful scrawls.

No one knew who was writing on the notices — or so the people of Southwall claimed when the Keep soldiers questioned them. Like everyone else in Weld, the Southwall citizens were very law-abiding. Most would never have dreamed of damaging one of the Warden’s notices themselves. But many secretly agreed with the person who had done so.

Rye, the youngest of Lisbeth’s sons, had the half-thrilled, half-fearful suspicion that his eldest brother, Dirk, might be responsible.

Dirk worked on the Wall as his father had done, repairing and thickening Weld’s ancient defense against the barbarians on the coast of the island of Dorne. Brave, strong, and usually good-natured, Dirk had become increasingly angry about the Warden’s failure to protect Weld from the skimmer attacks.

Sholto, the middle brother, thin, cautious, and clever, said little, but Rye knew he agreed with Dirk. Sholto worked for Tallus, the Southwall healer, learning how to mend broken bones and mix potions. The soldiers had questioned him when they had come to the healer’s house seeking information. Rye had overheard him telling Dirk about it.