Revelyn: 1st Chronicles - When the last arrow falls (52 page)

Reigin’s arm recovered well and by the time they were ready to leave he could use it almost normally, and Sylvion predicted a full recovery. They had talked for a long time about what should be done next and settled finally on a plan which seemed to advance Sylvion’s cause as best they could, for she was now firmly resolved to claim the throne and free Revelyn from the evil into which it had fallen.  She had insisted on travelling alone back to
Wildwood
to her family home where she would give her mother a proper burial, and if possible by some miracle, enlist the help of the
Equin
.

Reigin would travel south quite visibly, for a
Wolver
travelling on the road with another woman would draw away any pursuit, for he was to take the poor Drifa home. He was to keep a lookout for news of Rema Bowman, and by the next full moon, if he had heard nothing he had agreed to meet Sylvion in
Wildwood
, for she felt that once news was spread that she had escaped
The Vault
, Rema, if he was alive, would make his way to her there.

They stored the cauldron and canopy deep within the cave for Sylvion had a hope that in better times it would grace
The Vault
once more, for the history and tradition of the mighty Iridin was part of her story, and needed to be preserved.

Drifa was given a small fortune in gold from the treasures in the cave and the most graceful of all the horses, a wonderful black gelding with a gentle nature whom she had befriended, for part of her service to the thieves was to look after the livestock and she had found this of all her tasks to be the most bearable. There were several pigs and many chickens which were set free in the forest for they could not be taken with them. The single milking cow was to be led out through the forest to the common road which led to
Fisher
, a dozen leagues to the north and south to the many coastal towns including
Waterman
which was Drifa’s home since childhood. The plan was to let the cow lose along the roadside, and hope that a passing farmer would take it home. Reigin sealed up the cave mouth deep in the valley, and together they rode away.

Their parting at the common road was sombre for the future was uncertain and a darkness seemed to grip the land.

Sylvion sat upon an impressive black stallion, saddled with the most beautiful worked leather she had ever seen. She wore her blade now in a scabbard of pure silver which she had found amongst the cave’s treasures, and it gave her great comfort for she knew her journey alone would not be easy. Reigin had the strongest horse for he was a heavy man and there was only one which seemed able to bear him well.

‘Farewell my lady,’ said Reigin gravely, ‘may you travel safely, and do not be afraid to use your blade for it belongs to you and I have seen your skill. You are the match of all but the best. I will see you before the next moon. I give you my word.’

‘I will look forward to that time Reigin. I will miss your company, but I pray there are better times ahead. Good speed to you both. Drifa, I wish you well.’ Drifa leant across and the two women embraced tearfully, for they had become close in such a short time.

Reigin and Sylvion gripped each other’s hands for a time, their eyes meeting in deep respect, and then with a word, Sylvion turned and spurred her steed over the road and into the forest, for she planned to travel overland by the quickest route to meet the inland path she had travelled some time before in a burial box and the prisoner of desperate men.

Reigin and Drifa watched her go. Finally he turned his great mount and the two new companions cantered off south, whilst deep within the forest by the raging sea the cave had become a cold and loathsome place, for the bodies of Ljotr and Mord lay buried in the sandy floor close by the things which in their evil lives they had so cherished, but which in the end became mere decorations for their lonley tomb.

Chapter 15

Helgas sobbed bitterly into her dirty apron. Her eyes were red and swollen with the constant tears and her stomach was churning from the fear of what might happen next. She could not understand how she had come to this; chained in one of the several dungeons deep beneath the White Palace, surrounded by those whom once she felt were there because they were common thieves and deserving of any fate that came their way as a consequence of their stupid crimes.

How could it be that she, Helgas, the King’s favourite could be sharing a prison with such as these?

It had all happed so fast, and she cursed her stupidity for being so careless with her tongue. Her deep upset over discovering that the King and his closest advisors were cruel and evil men had led her to the simplest of plans. She decided she would leave the Palace and return to her home village of
Audr
on the shores of Lake Unnr and find work with her parents in their simple business as weavers. Once she had sworn that she would never do such work, and dreamed of the day she would escape the dreary life in the small village and find excitement and romance in Ramos; but now everything had changed.

Helgas could not see what she had done wrong, at least not when she had told Vellion her master that she had decided to leave the Palace and return to her family. In her immature view of the world she had never dreamed that she could not, had never understood that once employed by the mighty Lord Petros, her life was his to direct. Vellion had happily reported her intentions and the King was furious beyond anything she had witnessed. He had been insulted that she had decided she could just walk away from such an opportunity, one that all young girls in Revelyn would long for.

 
Did she not realise that to be his personal servant was a high honour indeed?

She had not been able to speak in her defence, such was his anger, but had stood, head bowed and trembling as he stormed about her demanding some explanation. She could not tell him that by chance she had come to learn that his ways were evil, and that she was no longer entranced by his every action, and that in truth she feared him greatly. And so in abject disgrace she was banished to the kitchens and laundry, where the work of endless drudgery made her back and hands ache for hours after she fell exhausted late at night into her small bed, now no longer in the better part of the Palace nearer the King’s chambers, but adjacent to the work areas; but worst of all she was forced to share with four other girls with whom she had nothing in common and who teased her mercilessly for her stupidity and what they called her snobbery.

Alone and humiliated Helgas had wanted nothing more than to run away, but knew that it had become impossible, for she was watched closely by many contemptuous eyes. Helgas however had a deeper resolve than she realised, and after a time her fear and tears had turned to anger and a cold bravado which led to her final fateful mistake. By chance once more she overheard a conversation about one of the Royal Scribes, a man called Spiel whom she had known well in better times for he was close to the King and he had befriended her as one so young and new to the Palace.  He too had fallen from favour, for acts of treachery, or so she heard, and had been banished to the town and had lost his living serving the king. This saddened her greatly, but then a piece of kitchen gossip roused her anger, for she heard that this gentle man of great learning and kind good humour had once more come to the king’s attention, for he had been caught in some act of high treason and would die for it. For some reason Helgas felt that her poor life of no consequence might be worth a little if she warned this fallen friend of the King’s intentions, for she knew that Spiel was not yet taken into custody for that action was to have taken place on the day she learned of it.

She knew not what Spiel had done, but felt that she might in some way stand against the evil acts of the tyrant she once almost worshipped, and so had slipped away from her duties on the pretext of an ill disposition, and by luck had found her old friend in the town below the Palace and had warned him of his doom.

To her surprise, Spiel showed no alarm, although he thanked her for her courage and had sent her away quickly in case she was found to be with him when the soldiers arrived. She had not understood anything of what had happened at the time, but Spiel had given her a small parchment on which was written what he told her was a powerful prophecy and which if she was willing to spread this to others of a like mind, the words would come true one day, and the King and his rule would pass into oblivion. At the time Helgas accepted the small gift and had run back to her work only to find that her absence had not gone unnoticed and she had been followed. She had been taken into custody, and now sat in filth and misery awaiting her fate, bewildered and in shock and regretting many things in her short life, not least that fateful decision to parade one day before the king’s servant
providor¸
in adolescent vanity and the hope so that she might live a better life serving Lord Petros Luminos, King of all Revelyn.

A rough command suddenly broke through her bitterness.

‘Helgas, stand and come to the gate.’ She felt her heart start a woeful pounding in her chest. Several others close by her broke into fearful sobbing for they knew she was doomed, whilst others laughed in relief that their time was not yet come. She could not move, such was the weakness in her body from the fear.

‘Helgas, do not make me come and fetch you wench, for you will feel the sting of my whip soon enough.’ The guard was an ugly brute who was perfectly chosen for his job, for he enjoyed the power he had over the prisoners and his whip was feared by all. Helgas stood shakily and made her way to the iron gates of the dungeon prison which were held open just long enough to allow her to pass through. Her shackled ankles and wrists slowed her walk, but soon enough she was standing before the king and his evil advisor in the public court where she and many others had recently witnessed the now notorious death of the merchant Menin at the hands of the feared Zelfos. She found she could not speak, and her limbs trembled so that she fell immediately to her knees, and it was all she could do just to remain aware of her dreadful predicament. She was vaguely conscious that the hall was full of onlookers, like dark shadows on the edges of her fearful world.

‘Helgas,’ the king spoke angrily but with a slight touch of regret. ‘You have acted foolishly once more.’ When she remained as she was, cowed and unresponsive he lost his royal composure and screamed at her.

‘Look at me wench!’

Helgas was startled into obedience. She saw his anger and knew that her life was over. She thought about her dear parents and wondered what would become of them, for they held such high hopes for her, and now she had not just let them down but perhaps brought them into danger as well, for who knew how far the King’s anger would reach in punishment and revenge.

‘You have been caught in an act of treason with the scribe Spiel. This man served a traitor by the name of Jycob Menin for many years. We have reason to believe that he was over friendly with this man’s wife Serenna Menin. She too has betrayed this city and her King.’ The Lord Petros spoke once more. It was statement of accusation for which she had no words to contradict, although she had no clue as to what all these people had to do with her.’

‘You need go no further my Lord,’ Zelfos’ voice cut the air like a knife. ‘She has betrayed you and should die this moment as warning to all else that they defy the King at pain of death.’ Helgas had no understanding of the strange relationship between the king and Zelfos, and expected nothing short of the immediate pronouncement of her death, for she had witnessed with her own eyes what had happened to the merchant Jycob Menin. He too had kneeled as she was kneeling. She prayed that it would be quick.

Lord Petros however hesitated at this interjection by his advisor, for once again he felt his authority somewhat thwarted, and despite the truth in what Zelfos had said, felt a bitter anger and took a different path.

‘Come here girl,’ he said more gently, and Helgas slowly stood and shuffled forward to stand before the King and all assembled.

‘You are a very pretty young thing.’ The king spoke almost regretfully and she raised her tearful eyes to his for the very first time, for she had never dared before, as it was forbidden. Lord Petros ignored her indiscretion, and reached out and ran a finger over her beautiful face.

‘You skin is perfect, your features are the best of any young wench who has served me in the past.’ Helgas was confused by his sudden gentleness and a spark of hope rose in her pounding breast.

Could it be possible that he was to about to allow her to live?

‘Death has been demanded by my wise advisor Zelfos.’ He turned and smiled coldly at the evil man who did his best to smile back, although it was more leer than anything else. ‘But he calls for death too easily.’ This comment turned Zelfos’ leer into a dark scowl for he knew that before the whole assembly he had been coldly rebuked.

‘And yet,’ the king continued, ‘you have betrayed me and my kingdom; you have assisted desperate, evil people who seek to overthrow me if they could. Can you imagine a Revelyn in which I am not Lord of Light to my dear people?’ Helgas knew now that he was half mad, but hoped he might, in his derangement see fit to let her live.

‘But I can be merciful when one so young has chosen unwisely.’ She felt tears of relief run down her face and she looked gratefully at him, despite the rules which governed all who served as she did...as she had done.

‘I will let you live!’

 The King stood and raised his hands before the throng who cheered at his mercy. He silenced them with a gesture and all waited for his final judgement. They did not wait long.

‘You will instead be banished to Leper Island for the rest of your life.’

Helgas felt her heart stop, for she knew what this would mean. The king continued with an evil gleeful tone in his voice.

‘There your perfect skin will learn what it is like to be betrayed by disease, your perfect features will become eaten away and you will regret for every moment that you live, that you ever betrayed your King.’  He marched theatrically about the raised platform on which his public throne sat, and raising his hands once more to the crowd, encouraged them to cheer and join his madness. Even Zelfos managed some evil pleasure in this pronouncement, for it was truly well done, to raise her hopes like that and then dash them so quickly; even he, the mighty Zelfos was fooled, and so he nodded and smiled oily at his King when their eyes met for a moment.