The Magic Lands (17 page)

Tom nodded in agreement, even
though he wasn't entirely sure of what point Mo was making and he
looked affectionately at the animal as they travelled further along
the undeviating road of stone. "Black and white," he pondered,
eyeing the badger's sleek fur as it rippled in the light wind.

Just like you, Mo.

THE SEA OF TEARS

Dredger knew that crossing the
torrid zone known as the Sea of Tears would be a great test indeed.
And that was only the beginning.

Once that had been accomplished
he would have to face the hooded foe, the enemy foretold in ancient
prophecy. It was said that the coming of this, the second of the
beasts, would herald the dawn of a new age. But whether it was to
be one of darkness or of light seemed uncertain.

His father, urgency in his
voice, had spoken to him on a rain sodden day when he had been a
boy of ten. They had climbed the steep hills that girdled their
village, overlooking their fertile domain. Dredger recalled it with
clarity.

"There are stories," the boy's
father told him, as rain water clung to his face and hair, "old
tales of magic and strangeness. They have been handed down as
prophecies of things yet to come." The man paused for a moment,
looking out from their place up on the hillock. It was a beautiful
vista, the valley below winding into the distance. They had made
their home here and the land had been good to them. "And in the
tales there is one they call the warrior," he continued, now
returning his steely gaze to his son. "That warrior is you, my
son."

Dredger listened carefully. It
was true enough that he was of the warrior breed and had always
known that his destiny lay in the way of the blade. But now it
seemed much more was expected of him than merely following in his
father's footsteps.

"So," the man went on, laying a
firm hand upon the boy's shoulder, "in a future time, perhaps when
I have parted from this world, you will be called upon to face a
great evil. In the prophecies, they speak of dark forces that will
hinder you and I have learnt many of the sacred runes and the old
tales so that I might give you guidance. The ancient writings also
tell of one known only as the Second Beast. This foe is not akin to
the Wolf who walks the land now. Nay, this is a separate evil, one
that rises from the dreams of men. Remember, this beast will know
you, your name, your heart, your soul. It will await your coming.
To defeat it, you must first know its true face. There lies your
only hope."

Now, in the present, the
warrior had found that his father's words of long ago had been
true. He would meet the beast in Hydan, he would meet his
destiny.

He trod the stone road, a
screen of noble ferns hemming him in on either side.

And what of the trees?

There had been another time,
when he had been no more than a stripling, perhaps thirteen or so,
when he had come upon a forest glade where voices violated the
stillness of the woodland. Hidden in a thicket just a short
distance away, Dredger had watched and listened.

The boy saw four men in grey
uniforms, spurs jangling on their high boots as they moved. One of
them, who appeared to be in command, barked out instructions, his
companions in disagreement over something. "I don't want to hear
anymore about these accursed trees. They must be cut down. I have
my orders."

"On whose authority?" asked one
of the others.

"It is by Her word," said their
captain harshly. "Will you say no to the Lady?" The other three
fell silent at this, their dissension apparently quelled. "Now
let’s get on with it," the man continued, taking up a long-handled
axe.

Dredger watched as the four
soldiers took up positions before massive trunks of trees ancient
beyond reckoning.

The boy almost let out a cry,
his horror at what they meant to do so great he could hardly
control his rage. "They are sacred," he whispered hoarsely, knowing
if he gave himself away they would surely kill him. But even as he
spoke, a sound began to hum around them. At first it was low and
seemingly far away, but within seconds it became loud and
pulsating, like some behemoth machine working toward a frenzy. To
Dredger's ears it was as if a thousand voices were singing.

The soldiers turned wildly,
dropping their blades and clasping their hands over their ears,
faces contorted with anguish. Their captain stumbled, moaning as he
fell. "Please," he cried out. "Please! No!" The other men staggered
hastily away from the glade, desperate to escape the sound.

Dredger only smiled, his mind
and body instilled with a joy so overwhelming he could not refrain
from laughing out loud. As he watched their flight, his head still
ringing with the sound, the young warrior understood the power of
these primeval titans, the trees. It was said that they could never
die. And in that moment he believed it.

But now in these present dark
times, Dredger knew he must focus on what lay ahead, not his
memories of the past. Although not particularly weary, he decided
he would rest and clear his mind. There were many mysteries and
many questions to be answered and these dominated his thoughts as
he leaned against a thin tree, his back heavy against its lithe
trunk.

What of the boy, he wondered.
Would he prove strong enough? And of course, there was the other
child to be considered. The warrior prayed that Mo would watch them
well. Evil worked its insidious way and the Wolf was sly. But now
their fates were out of his hands. They would have to fend for
themselves.

He reckoned that without any
unexpected delays, he would reach the desert in little time,
although he was aware that there was no accurate way to measure it,
except in his own mind. The journey across the Sea of Tears itself
would take far longer, but this still, with determination and
strength, did not daunt him. At least the distance did not. There
were other reasons why it might prove arduous.

Dredger closed his eyes and let
his mind wander through the past, through old days now lost and
with a clenching of his fists, he recalled his battle with the
Beast. Once he had destroyed this other foe there would be another
duel between man and wolf and this time his enemy would know the
terminal caress of his steel.

His mind drifted outward,
touching it seemed the very earth and sky.
I loved you…mother…Elizabeth. What was your fate?

They were on an expedition,
seeking food or any other useful supplies that would serve their
family. In the night sky, a bright light flared.

It was the signal prearranged
by his mother and father to warn of any danger whilst they were
away. Without a word and with desperate speed the man and boy
hastened back to their village, fear burrowing into their hearts.
But when they reached the place all was still, an ominous silence
greeting them. No children played, no animal called. Within their
own small abode smoke from the cooking fire billowed gently from
the chimney, drifting away on a subtle breeze.

"Where is everyone, father?"
Dredger questioned, his eyes searching the darkness.

The man absently touched the
boy's head, but did not speak. The young warrior went to their own
doorway and stood motionless, listening intently but the only sound
was the wind in the trees. Moving past him, his father went
inside.

"Where is mother and
Elizabeth?" Dredger persisted, glancing around nervously.

"Gone," his father said finally
without any outward show of emotion, "everyone is gone." The man's
feelings were bound within, held tightly in a knot of absolute
loathing. Loathing for the Beast, loathing for himself for not
having been there when the Wolf had came.

Dredger found himself numb,
unable to fully understand the meaning of his father's words. The
night crept about them, a heavy tomb that seemed to crush his
soul.

Their community had simply
vanished, swept away as if it were no more than dust, father and
son all that remained of their clan.

Dredger, now a man, hateful
time having left these memories in his mind with perfect clarity,
opened his eyes and looked out toward the horizon where a sapphire
sky fell like an immense curtain across the land. The Wolf had
taken them all and the warrior would not rest until he had claimed
retribution.

The mound rose up before them.
"We've got to climb that!?" Jack spluttered, as if the idea was
utterly ludicrous.

"That is the way," Mo answered.
"There is no other."

"Come on, Jack," said Tom
good-humouredly, "It'll be good exercise!"

Jack gave him a strained smile
and his voice betrayed something of his true feelings. "Yeah, but
I'm not sure I need it."

Scratching the hard earth with
a paw, Mo surveyed the high grass covered hill, its surface a
broad, rutted expanse.

"It is all the same," he
commented. "We must climb Gelaré Mound, for our path lies beyond
it."

Tom nodded, eyeing Jack
carefully. "Mo's right," he affirmed. "We can't stop now. Let's
just get it over and done with. Then we can have a rest."

Hesitating, Jack thought
quickly. "But what about the cold?" he moaned. "You said it was all
snow and ice over there. We'll freeze!"

The badger shook his head
shortly. "I will see to that."

Tom glanced quizzically at the
animal but decided to trust him, although he had to admit, if only
to himself, that he hadn't thought of the problem until Jack had
mentioned it. They were hardly dressed for such conditions after
all.

"Let’s begin,” Mo said and
started forward, making his way through the tangled grass.

"Race you," challenged Tom
pointing at the summit, but looking at his friend he did not see
the smile and nod of acceptance he had hoped for. Jack just plodded
along, his eyes

set straight ahead, a withdrawn
look marring his pale features and with a weary sigh, Tom began the
ascension of the mound.

Dredger sensed that the
boundary between this land and the desert dunes was close now. To
many, he knew, it was strange and somewhat alarming how things
could change so abruptly in this world, conflicting terrain
converging to form a desultory landscape, shifting in a moment from
black to white.

He smiled at that thought,
content that he was unmoved by all of this, gratified that his mind
was too disciplined to be affected by it.

Walking on incisively, he noted
that the maintenance of the roadway was gradually deteriorating and
after a mile or so more it had degenerated into a muddy track.
Ahead of him, the warrior could see an extensive mead of tall reeds
that had been designated on the map as The Marches. He knew that
this divided the green land of trees from the desert.

He found the reeds were thick
and rough and it was not without a good deal of brawn and effort
that he passed through them, his boots sinking into the marshy
ground. As Dredger went, moving quickly even though he was
hindered, he stared into the far distance and spied a shimmering,
sallow light on the horizon. Yellow sand.

He wondered if the others were
making such good time. They would have reached the mound by now, he
felt certain, perhaps were already on the other side. And what
darkness would they face beyond the ice? Rith-ran-ro-en. Perhaps
fortune would favour them. Perhaps not.

The desert drew closer as he
traversed the great field and at the edge of the sand, dark figures
could be seen against the yellow of the dunes. A reception party?
If it were so, he would be glad to meet them and hone his skill
with a blade.

As he came nearer, his sharp
eyes could just make out that there was in fact only one man, if it
were indeed a man. The creature stood on two legs at least. With
this figure, there were two animals that Dredger identified as
horses. The warrior's brow furrowed. One man with two horses. Why
did he wait there?

After considerable exertion,
Dredger eventually emerged from the reeds and approached the
perimeter of the sand, the mysterious figure standing beside one of
the steeds apparently staring out across the dunes. Seeing only his
back, Dredger observed that the stranger was tall, at least as tall
as himself and wore an outfit of black and grey, a long cloak cast
about his shoulders. Golden spurs glinted upon high black boots and
the warrior saw that the man's hair was long, even more so than his
own, the silver locks tied behind his neck with a length of
cord.

"Hello friend," Dredger called
when he came within earshot.

The figure did not turn. "Good
day," came a voice, low but clearly audible, the sound of it having
a curious musical quality.

For a moment, Dredger felt a
little perplexed. Was this an enemy or a potential ally? "May I ask
your name, friend?" he offered, his tone deliberately casual and
with a flowing movement of his cloak, the stranger turned.

Dredger looked upon a man who
wore a mask. It was very much like those worn by the travelling
players he recalled as a young boy who had performed in his
village, a plain white mask that smiled at him with unbridled
amusement.

"I am Geheimnis," he said
smoothly. Staring hard, the warrior tried to find the eyes beneath
the mask but could see nothing but slits of apparent darkness. "And
what is
your
name…friend?"
the masked man enquired.

"Dredger," the warrior offered
neutrally.

"Ah," murmured Geheimnis. "It
seems you are he that I have been awaiting."

Dredger raised his eyebrows in
mock surprise. "And are you friend or foe?" he questioned
nonchalantly.

A rasping laughter greeted his
words. "That is an intriguing question."

Dredger tensed himself, his
eyes fixed intently on the other man. "If we are to do battle let
it begin. I grow weary of this foolish banter."