Jadde - The Fragile Sanctuary (23 page)

     ‘Do not return
unprepared and bent on revenge. We cannot afford to let you sacrifice yourself
in that way.’

     ‘I do not go off
unprepared, woman. I have seen and fought the horror of the approaching quarter-men
and that is enough to drive me on.’

‘You need to convince the Brenna,
if not the priesthood, before you can even begin to muster our people to defend
just Cyprusnia only. And then you must persuade them to come to the assistance
of tribes they know nothing of. The Brenna will deny any other organised tribe
even exist and will claim you have invented it all to gain re-admittance to
Cyprusnia.’

Malkrin paused for a
moment, reluctant to acknowledge her logic.

‘They are not stupid. It
will be obvious to them you are consumed by revenge.’

 She was right; he was not
fully prepared and was hell-bent on retaliation.

‘Thank you Seara. I will
discuss this with the Brightwater Senate, TrathWolf and representatives of the
gathering tribes first. Together the leaders must find a solution before I
return to Cyprusnia. I will keep my passions contained and find some undeniable
proof to convince the Brenna.’

Seara nodded and helped Palreth
to sit upright. Then she swung her legs from the bed and whispered to him.

‘Rest Palreth, I will
bring you food later.’

Palreth lifted an arm in
silent acknowledgement and immediately let it flop down as if it was not part
of him.

Malkrin followed Seara
from the tree-home.

‘He must come with us
tomorrow.’

‘He will, and I will be
there to help him.’

‘I know.’

Malkrin strode off to take
up his lookout duty.  Then at last in the early hours before dawn he was free
to sleep. But he lay on a tree-house bed thinking of its last occupants all too
recently slaughtered by quarter-men. Could the peoples prepare a defence
substantial enough to protect the Brightwater lands and stem the demon tide? He
drifted into sleep hoping and hoping.

Seara awoke him with a cup
of steaming broth. Her face again looked weighed down with grief. He began to
console her but she interrupted.

‘It’s not just Olaff that
saddens me Malkrin.’

‘What then child?’ he
asked softly as he put a hand on her shoulder.

‘I tried to heal Eighth’s
wound earlier and nothing happened. I felt cold and nothing warmed my hands.
The healing deserted me.’

‘We have to get used to
highsense lapses child. We both have grieving to do, stress and great loss
affects our abilities.’ He looked into her large sad eyes, ‘but they will
return – believe me.’

Like a story told from end
to beginning, the band journeyed back to Brightwater. They were joined by eighty
of the most athletic
Celembrie
led by their super-fit leader
Thicheal
. The rest of his tribe were following and being
watched over by most of his warriors. Malkrin hoped the Celembrie people would
keep ahead of marauding quarter-men. If they were half as athletic as the
warriors he saw with him now, he felt confident they would.

With the distant roar of
the great river in their ears the band passed a scouting group of Brightwater
hunters and one ran back to break the news of the reconnaissance party’s
return. Soon it seemed that everyone had left their work tasks to flood over
the Lighthouse Bridge in celebration. But the cheering soon stopped as they
noticed a Wolf warrior leading the group with a symbolic broken spear to
proclaim another terrible loss. Then with a collective gasp people noticed the
tired warriors carrying an ivy laced hammock containing the Eighth and then
that BerantWolf and other warriors were missing. The group trudged passed lines
of the silent people of Brightwater. Two young hunters solemnly took the hammock
carrying the
Eighth
from two exhausted warriors.

Word of the slain and
wounded spread beyond the crowd at lightning speed and Malkrin noticed members
of the Wolf Tribe join the crowd and push through urgently, to confirm the news
of their fallen chief. Soon a wailing started to permeate through Malkrin’s
exhaustion; it was BerantWolf’s wife and daughters howling in despair. Then the
lamenting receded and as they took the path to the Senate building clapping
started, hesitant at first then growing in volume as cheers of  support were
added. Heartened now he noticed heads rise bravely, and communal determination take
over the crowd.

Senate officials guided Malkrin,
TrathWolf, Aldred and
Thicheal
to the audience chamber for an immediate conference
.
This time padded seats were arranged in a semicircle before the Senate. Malkrin
smiled; no attempt was made to impress or intimidate them with any misplaced
show of power.

Malkrin and his companions were offered a
meal which they devoured greedily having not eaten properly for days. The
semi-circle of tribal representatives finished the food as members of the Senate
marched in and sat adjusting their ceremonial clothing. He highsensed their anxiety
which gathered over them all like the approach of a wild storm. Under this anxiousness
he sensed a determination to prevail.

The debriefing began.

TrathWolf related every detail of the reconnaissance.
It took an hour and Malkrin began to tire as recent events settled in his mind.
The magnitude of the task ahead bore down on him, but then TrathWolf’s accounting
of the heroic deeds of BerantWolf and Olaff and the genocide of the Sylva
stirred in him a wash of anger which regenerated his resolve.

Thicheal spoke with determination seeming
to speak Malkrin’s thoughts. ‘We have a mighty task to accomplish, my friends.
Some of you belong to tribes that until recently I had no idea existed; but we
must all work as one to prevail over the quarter-men scourge.’

     There was a murmur of resolve from
everyone around Malkrin.

Thicheal continued, ‘I have some ideas on
how to defend Brightwater and the lands beyond, and I ask you to add your
thoughts to mine. These are desperate times and we must not just defend our
peoples, we must wipe out the demon horde or we will have to retreat; then retreat
again and again as the demons whittle us down. It may take a lifetime but I see
that they will never give up until we are all mere piles of bleached bones.’ 
He looked around each person in turn to confirm he had their attention. ‘We
must plan carefully now, or they will surely destroy all that we know.’  

     Thicheal sat down suddenly as if the
outpouring had deflated him.

     First of Senate stood and bowed in
acknowledgement of Thicheal’s summing up of their predicament.

     ‘Yes indeed Chief Thicheal, thank you.
We must now make urgent and detailed plans as you suggest.’

Malkrin added his voice to the murmur of
assent.

First of Senate continued, ‘my librarian
and his assistants continue to delve into our oldest records to see how our
ancestors dealt with the quarter-men of their time. I also have discussed with my
Senate about constructing defences. We have set up a workgroup to organise
plans and labour to build fortifications around the Gorge of Golgoth. This
should be enough to stop the demons entering our lands from the south.’

     Fourth of Senate, a grey haired woman
in her middle years, rose, then added. ‘We must warn the wild men of Trothwell.
For those here who do not know; they are on our easterly border and will be the
first tribe to encounter the demons on that front.’

     ‘I will undertake that task,’
announced Ninth of Senate, ‘I have taken many hunting parties that way and know
of their customs. I will take gifts also, to gain their allegiance.’

     First of Senate nodded, ‘take a hand of
warriors and leave after this meeting.’

     The council lapsed into logistical
planning and scribes fussed around taking notes. Malkrin rested patiently and
thought of what had to be done to regain the Brenna’s trust. He thought of his
initial resolve to search for Jadde and how his quest had been subverted by the
threat of the quarter-men. And for the first time a suspicion arose. Were the Brenna
so insular in outlook they had no knowledge of the tribes that dwelled beyond
their border or of the approaching Archgry threat? Had his crime been
deliberately reported so he could be exiled to find out the true situation? 
Could it be possible that they actually expected him to return? And why were
they so concerned about the stranger killed in front of his dear wife?

And then he realised he had something that
would allow him access to an audience with the Brenna and convince them about
the approaching Archgry-quarter-men. He thought of the captured demon; it could
unknowingly aid them.

Then he checked in his pocket to ensure the
three gold suns were still there. As he touched one he felt a strange power
tingle his fingers – a kind of communication from someone or something. He
snatched his fingers away: this was not the time or place to experience
something unworldly.

How had the gold emblem done that?
With sudden insight
he realised he had just experienced the first reawakening thought of the Goddess
Jadde.

CHAPTER
TWENTY

     ‘
W
e
must organise a system of fire beacons atop hills to warn of approaching demons.’
Third of Senate suggested.

‘And warn the
Olephate
tribe,’ added
Thicheal.

‘And convince them to join us.’

Thicheal itemised the weapons of the three
hundred warriors at his command and told of his idea for fire arrows aimed at seams
in demon carapaces. ‘To fry them from within,’ he stated and Malkrin sensed the
spirits of the conference rise with this new killing technique.

     ‘I have two plans to add,’ Malkrin had
all their attention. ‘I have a scheme to win round the rulers of my people. It
will entail great powers of persuasion, but I believe I can accomplish this and
bring back with me a thousand men to help annihilate the demons.’

     ‘How do you propose to persuade your
bigoted brethren?’ sneered
TrathWolf
, ‘you
barely stand above them as it is.’

     Malkrin ignored the insult, ‘I must
take with me living proof of the challenge we face.’

     ‘You’re taking the caged demon,’
Talgour gasped.

     ‘Indeed, and I must ask a
representative of each tribe to accompany me to add more weight and urgency to
my argument.’

     There was silence as the logic of Malkrin’s
plan filtered into their plans.

     ‘I will give you
BalthWolf Bone-thrower, he is a greater persuader than
you,’ sneered TrathWolf with a sly glint in his eye.

     Malkrin’s highsense
intercepted TrathWolf’s thoughts, and realised the deviousness of the offer.
BalthWolf was the temporary leader of the Wolf Clan appointed by BerantWolf before
he left for the reconnaissance. TrathWolf was putting him well out of the way
so he TrathWolf could assume unopposed leadership of his people. But it was a
good offer of a potent ally and Malkrin accepted graciously whilst smiling
coldly to acknowledge he knew why TrathWolf had offered Bone-thrower.

     ‘With the Senate’s
permission I would like to accompany you,’ said
Bevin Talgour.

     The First of Senate nodded assent.

Thicheal added, ‘I will give you Mondroth
of the Celembrie; he was of good service on your scouting was he not?’

‘He was, and I am pleased you offer him.’

     ‘And I will come’, a wavering voice
from behind Malkrin announced.

     It was Palreth Tonell of the Sylve.

‘I have Olaff’s death gift to honour. And
it will be of great use in persuading the Brenna. It is what Olaff would have
wanted and with a part of him in me I am a member of the Seconchane now as well
as the Sylve.’

‘Are you up to the journey Palreth?’
Malkrin asked.

‘Your kinswoman has worked her magic and I
have Olaff’s talent safely within my mind. I will complete all that is asked of
me.’

Malkrin welcomed him, and sensed a growing
mood of optimism as if the light through the yellow lens windows was bathing them
with Jadde’s blessing.

‘To my other scheme, if I may my friends.’
Malkrin had their undivided attention, his last plan had gained enough approval
to give them good reason his next would be equally as constructive. ‘When I
left Cyprusnia . . .’

‘Expelled,’ corrected TrathWolf.

Malkrin ignored him and continued, ‘. . . my
sole concern was to find the Goddess Jadde and convince her of the need to
bring justice to the downtrodden Seconchane. But now the need to find her for
my own people’s need has been superseded by all our dire necessities. I propose
that whilst I’m away someone carries on my original quest to obtain Jadde’s
help for us all.’

‘And where do you propose we look, brave
warrior,’ sneered TrathWolf. ‘There are rocks around my tent. Shall I look
under them?’

Malkrin had had enough of the snipping and
reached for Palerin, ‘You wish to continue your grudge TrathWolf – let’s sort
it once and for all.’

‘
Be still, comrades
,’ First of Senate
commanded, ‘I acknowledge you Malkrin believe a Goddess will return to aid you
in a time of great need. We at Brightwater do not share your conviction; but we
can search some likely locations in case something still exists that may be of
use in our mutual struggle.’

‘Like where?’ TrathWolf snapped.

‘The Pit of Vorbe comes to mind, where the
great river flows into a metallic sphere and disappears. Also the deep lake of
Ryland where legend has it Jadde’s eagle resides awaiting her bidding.’

Malkrin was intrigued; the First had been
researching Jadde whilst they were on the reconnaissance. The Brightwater
people were certainly not leaving any possibility unexplored.

‘No chance,’ snapped TrathWolf, ‘they will
be overrun with demons now.’

‘Malkrin’s idea has merit and I will send a
party to attempt to search Ryland if the demons are not in evidence. And the
team I send to the Wild-men of Trothwell can divert to investigate the Pit of
Vorbe.’

TrathWolf growled but sat down.

Thicheal added, ‘I will add the Bylow Tarn
to the list, there has been many a mysterious legend coupled with it. I will
provide a section of warriors to go there.’

The confrontation was resolved with the
weight of consent, and TrathWolf deflated with a sigh. ‘Very well; do what you must.’

Malkrin relaxed his grip on Palerin’s hilt
and announced, ‘I will leave at first light tomorrow.’ He stood up. ‘I go now
to make arrangements before the evening draws in.’ He bowed to the assembled
allies and officials including TrathWolf. The ornate doors of the Senate chamber
swung open and he strode into the dimming evening light.

He found Halle with Seara in their
quarters. Seara looked improved, her colour had returned and wisps of her inner
healing caressed his highsense. He explained his plan in detail to aid them in
representing the Seconchane in his absence; then went on to detail their
particular tasks.

‘Halle, you must continue research in the library
and look for a different interpretation from that of the Brightwater scholars.
They do not believe in Jadde’s return but it has not always been so. So there
may be records that they still dismiss that you can reinterpret. Search in
particular for references to the Pit of Vorbe and Bylow Tarn. Look for the
Goddess’s whereabouts, but also for information that will allow us to rebuild
her weapons. There may be small details to add together, things the Brightwater
people may have missed.’

‘I will do as you suggest Sire.’

‘And Seara; I notice your gift reignites,
nurse the embers and feed them, so they grow to flame strongly again. If you
can help wounded warriors return to battle quickly then you will be of huge
benefit to the allied tribes. Study the book entitled ‘The Surgical Battlefield
by Doctor Ivan Kollosky’ in the library; its ancient knowledge in treating
injuries will save many lives. Use your time to learn from it and add the
knowledge to your highsense. Then teach its knowledge to tribes’ women best
suited to assist you. I think it will be a unique way of repaying your debts to
Olaff.’

‘Olaff was the greatest, kindest man, and
this will indeed be a great way to honour him. Thank you Sire.’

Malkrin looked from one to the other; he
had no greater friends.

‘I’ll bid you farewell, till we meet again.
And don’t fret; there are great plans afoot to defeat the demons.’

Seara hugged him, and Halle clasped his
shoulders.

‘May Jadde go with you Malkrin, and give my
love to Desira.’

‘I will.’

Malkrin felt his eyes fill and strode out
into the bustling street before his friends noticed.

He settled wearily onto his bed in his apartment
and viewed his full backpack and new leather shoulder scabbard for Palerin,
gifted to him by the Celembrie people and graven by them with fine runes.

All was prepared, but there was one more
thing to do before sleep. Carefully he produced the three highsense suns and gingerly
placed each one on the bed before him. As he did so he willed his highsense to observe
in the back of his mind, and to remember and remind him later – lest Jadde try
to charm him and cleanse his memory.

He took one at random and examined it
closely. The front was much the same as the Seconchane suns but this one had a
symbol inscribed into the centre. It reminded him of an illustration from a
musty book in the Brightwater library of the planets whirling around the sun.
He turned the metal emblem over; it had an ornate sprung grip sealed into the
gold metal; and was far superior in workmanship to the crude pins soldered onto
the back of the Seconchane suns. He began to think his previous sun decorations
were just poor imitations of these. The feeling resolved to a conviction as he
noted the thickness of the metal in the centre of the symbol and the precision
of the overall casting. It felt light – and powerful. In admiration he rubbed
the front surface with the palm of his hand.

In a flash his highsense displayed in his
mind and he instantly knew that should he choose one facet specifically it
would focus with speed and power. Carefully he placed the sun in a small
leather pouch purchased in the Brightwater market.

He picked up the second sun and examined it
as he had the previous one. And nuances from previous highsense encounters vividly
returned to remind him of how he had modified his gift on each occasion. A
useful reminder and tool, he thought, and placed it in the pouch with the
other.

Carefully he handled the sun-ray edges of
the third and drew a deep breath – it felt even more powerful. This must be the
one he had touched in the senate meeting. He made sure his highsense stayed at
very low power, just enough to observe.

Then he grasped it firmly in his palm.

A strange
connection was made in his mind and a female voice asked in his head. ‘
Is
that you Timothy. We had thought you dead?’

Malkrin was startled; somehow he kept a
firm grip on the emblem but started to shake. Jadde was speaking to him.

‘Hello. Timothy?’

He thought back, I am not Timothy your Highness.
He thought it very faintly not wanting to alarm the Goddess or prompt her
wrath.

‘Who is this?’

 
He had offended her
.
What was the
correct manner to speak to such an esteemed presence?

‘
I detect you are a friend. Fear not.’

His hand felt weak and he reached for the
pouch.

‘Is that you Malkrin
Owlear?’

It really was Jadde – actually talking to
him.

‘It is an honour great Goddess; that you
talk with me.’

‘I am not Jadde, my name is Rachel and I
want to find you Malkrin.’

‘You are a lesser Goddess that serves
Jadde?’

‘No you have it wrong Malkrin. I am like
you, with gifts, but I and my friends need to find you urgently.’

With a start he dropped the sun onto the
bed and stood in alarm.

Rachel was one of the searchers. Why did
the sun people want him so badly? Rachel had spoken to him by name, had he
already met her? Could Rachel be one of Jadde's fellow Goddesses? It was too
much to take in; he needed to think carefully whether to use the sun symbol to
respond again. Carefully he placed it in the pouch, and returned the leather bag
to his most secure pocket then waited for his heart to stop pounding.

 He lay back assessing the revelation. Much
later he slept an exhausted sleep, having decided the suns themselves were not
a threat. They must have been fashioned by Jadde or unknown Gods and presented
to Rachel and the searchers. But because Rachel was searching for him so
fervently he could not trust her or them. Eventually he would need to meet her
on his terms but that was not now.

The next day as dawn glimmered above the
horizon, he arose, ate sliced venison, rye bread spread with goat butter and
soft cheese and drank fruit cordial. Fortified he shouldered his packs and went
to the steps of the Senate to meet his travelling companions.

Within ten minutes they had all gathered,
eager to begin the trek. Four muscular Brightwater athletes hauled a Wolf Tribe
cart in which the demon was imprisoned behind a framework of iron riveted saplings.
Malkrin led the procession over the Lighthouse Bridge before the majority of
the Brightwater people had congregated to give the usual send off.

A few farming people waved as they rejoined
the track back the way he had come all those months ago. The track weaved
uphill but was well compacted and they all helped haul and push the hissing demon
filled cart uphill then along the well trodden path along the gorge bank.

They camped that night in a raised clearing
surrounded by a copse of oak and fir which formed a barrier against the wind. A
small stream wound around the copse adding the sound of trickling water to
augment the wind roaring in the branches. According to
BalthWolf Bone-thrower
this stopover had been used for
generations
, deep patches of bone fragments and ashes
confirmed it as a ritual stopover for the Wolf Clan.