The Gathandrian Trilogy 01 - The Gifting

much which could be learned from the snow-ravens and their Kingdom of Air. Much the scribe could write of. Still, he knew in his heart that such a wish would not be granted.

    Johan
    He knows Simon’s longing. He can sense it more clearly than if the man had spoken his thoughts aloud. However, there is no time. Some wishes are destined to be thwarted. But first there is something he has held back from saying for too long. That omission must be righted.
    “I need to talk to you, Simon,” he says.
    He nods, “Of course. Perhaps let me set Carthen to work—some writing—and I…”
    “No.” Johan grips the man’s arm. “No, there’s no time for that. Isabella will take him for a while. We need to be alone.”
    Without another word, Simon stands up, looks down at the boy. “I’m sorry, my friend, but Johan wishes to talk with me. Will you play with Isabella? Why not show her the stream which has cured your cuts.”
    Carthen’s face grows downcast for a moment and then he nods. Isabella is already beside him, her smile making her beautiful. He takes her hand and the two of them walk away.
    “You did a brave thing, Simon, when you stepped forward in the air to follow me here.” Johan says. “It took courage to stand with me like that. You had no idea what might have taken place. I am sorry it has taken me so long to thank you.”
    With all that has happened, it takes Simon a moment to understand him. Then he smiles. “More despair than courage, I think. I’d had enough, you see.”
    “Enough of what?”
    “Many things, I suppose. I’d had enough of being told what to do and knowing so little. I’d had enough of watching bad things happen to those around me. And, most of all, I’d had enough of letting fear rule everything I do. It’s…debilitating. Sometimes, Johan, I am more afraid of the death of my soul than anything in the outer life.”
    Johan nods and then looks up into the undulating clouds. The sight of the snow-ravens, and the patterns made by their unceasing flight above and around them, makes unexpected tears rise to his throat. Simon has the gift of surprising him. He is not used to that.
    “I think,” he says, “that what you say is nothing but a definition of courage itself.”
    Simon blushes and dismisses the kindness, but already Johan’s mind is of necessity turning elsewhere. He senses danger in the air around him. Something has happened and the enemy is closer. They must prepare the scribe for the next stage of their journey, and soon. In the only way they know.
    But before he can speak, Simon frowns.
    “It might help such courage as I have,” he says, “if you told me why you chose me to take to Gathandria. Is it because I am a mind-dweller? Or do you have other reasons?”
    Johan closes his eyes. He does not think Simon is ready for the truth. Not yet. Then again, is he himself ready for it? “I swear to you that I will answer you soon, when the time is right, but now there is something else you must do.”
    “What is that?”
    “You must tell us the story that is on your heart now. And you do not have much time to tell it.”

Eighth Gathandrian Interlude

    Annyeke
    Annyeke smiled at Talus. The two of them were standing in her kitchen area washing the platters. Their early supper had been one of her soups left over from yesterday and bread freshly-made this morning. The air smelled of rosemary and winter-chive, but it was the last of her supplies. Until the land was healed, there would be no more herbs. She’d added salad from the garden too, pausing to admire the lemon-tree leaf as she collected the last of the wild-lettuce and chicory.
    “Talus?”
    “Yes, Annyeke?”
    She sat on one of her stools. She didn’t want to tower over him while she spoke. “Listen, darling. I have to go out again soon, but I’ll be back by the time it gets dark. I need to do some work for the Sub-Council which I can’t do here. I’m sorry about that. Now, I want you to stay at home until I return. Can you do that for me?”
    As she spoke, Annyeke wondered if she’d ever get rid of the motherly sounding voice she used. Perhaps she should simply start being herself for once. While Talus stared blankly at her, she sighed and tried again.
    “Look,” she said. “I’m worried about things that are happening at work and…and elsewhere. I need to find something out without anyone else knowing about it.”
    “Can’t you ask the elders for help?”
    She shook her head. “No.