The Gathandrian Trilogy 01 - The Gifting

away.
    “Get up,” he said.
    Trembling, and not quite able to control his limbs, Simon staggered to his feet and swayed in the warm stale air.
    Ignoring the deepest threat in the room and trying not to think of what that threat might do to him now it had found an inroad into his soul, Simon locked his gaze on Ralph’s long back.
    “Why have you brought me here, sir?” he whispered. “When this man does not even need to see me to do whatever he wishes.”
    “Why?” Ralph said, turning swiftly and with one dark eyebrow raised. “You, of all men, should know the answer to that. Because today, Simon Hartstongue, you are on trial. For your life.”

First Gathandrian Interlude

    Annyeke
    The small but buxom red-haired woman ran through the park, keeping always to the shadows of the trees for safety’s sake. Not that they provided much safety these days—there weren’t that many trees left—but she would be wiser to take the precaution anyway. Her long hair streamed behind her in the wind from the south and she could hear the harsh panting of her own breath. Despite her determination not to give in— never to give in—she was crying. Damn it.
    Annyeke Hallsfoot had not expected this summons. Or at least not so soon. To her mind, it was typical of the way the menfolk governed this city-state. If she were part of the Gathandrian Council of Elders, things would not have come to this. Or at the very least if a woman had been in charge, they would have made sure that all guests invited to the Upper Council today had been informed of it before they actually needed to set out.
    Not that it was all their fault though. Last night’s attack had been more vicious than usual. Knives from the air cutting into all their minds and leaving gashes of memory or emotion gone. Because of it, a friend and neighbour had died, leaving her young son, Talus, alone in misery. She had heard him crying. Only seven summers old; she couldn’t let him cry alone. So she’d wrapped her cloak around her, taken a deep breath and run from her house through the onslaught of knives until she’d reached him. There the two of them had lain trembling together until the sun brought a glimmer of safety to the dust around them. Now she was in her night-attire hurrying along to a meeting she was ill prepared for, and Talus was in her home, protected by the full mind-net she’d spun about the both of them this morning. It would do until she got back.
    She hoped that at least Johan and Isabella had managed to begin their journey without injury. Was it because of them that the attack had come? Did the enemy guess what they were doing in spite of all the mental precautions put in place? These days it was hard to say. If Johan hadn’t survived though, she would have known it for sure. Oh yes. She would have felt his loss in her heart. Under those circumstances, she would have faced the enemy herself, no matter what the cost, and made sure he knew what she thought about it. No matter his powers, he would never have survived confronting her . She counted herself a force to be reckoned with. In her case, size most certainly didn’t matter.
    She wiggled her way through the park gate, around a row of shops now long since out-of-business and past the theatre. Poor Isabella. A terrible thing about Petran. Even more terrible that, with the way things were, there had been little time for providing comfort. Gathandrians were too busy looking for the next attack, trying to fight against it. Trying to prevent the enemy from destroying everything they loved so much. Not to mention the lives and countries of those outside their state. In this two year-cycle war, everyone suffered.
    Three turnings later and Annyeke stood outside the old Place of Meeting. She paused for a moment to catch her breath and try to tame her hair. The building was partially destroyed now but had once been the pride of Council Street: tall and elegant, made of reinforced glass with only a hint of silver. The courtyard had been a mirage of fountains and mind-streams, which had moved to allow Council members or their honoured guests to pass. Once all the Councils and Sub-Councils had met there. These days they did so rarely. Annyeke had been surprised when the venue had been conveyed to her. She hoped the elders knew what they were doing.
    Ten breaths later and she was outside the Central Chamber door. Or what was left of it. She could see the shapes of the Gathandrian elders huddled together