The Gathandrian Trilogy 01 - The Gifting

out?” the First Elder asked.
    Glad to see that he made no excuses and did not deny the truth she accused them of, she lifted her chin and stared right at him. “I followed you to the prison. I saw the books and the cage. I read your journals and the manuscripts and I drew my own conclusions.”
    He frowned. “How can that be when…? Ah, I see. You touched the mind-circle and its power entered you. That is why we only see what we expect when we read you. Whilst you on the other hand can see our inmost hearts.”
    “Yes.”
    “That must have been painful for you.”
    She blinked. Yes, she supposed it had been. She’d been too astonished by the gift and too determined to find out the truth behind what she saw to notice other emotions, but the elder was right. It had been painful. This conversation wasn’t progressing in the way she’d expected. She couldn’t decide whether that was good or bad.
    “Why did you do it?” she whispered, all anger spent. “Why did you release Gelahn when you knew that, even in the light of the good you hoped to do, so many would die?”
    “Come here, Annyeke.” The elder held out his hand, but Annyeke shook her head and he sighed. “Come, we will do no harm to you. I know that we have been wrong, but I still believe that Simon Hartstongue—for all his faults, and how many there are of those—is the Lost One of Gathandria.”
    “There is no Lost One,” Annyeke protested. “Whatever his faults might be, surely they can be no greater than yours. It is a myth, not a true legend. Even in the books, it is told as a lesser tale, though your hand has added to it.”
    As she spoke, she picked up the manuscripts from the grass and thrust them at the elder. When he took them, their low humming ceased. “Yes. I have added what I found elsewhere in the Gathandrian Library, the hints and references over the generations which would have been abandoned if I had not rescued them.”
    “For what? To kill us all?”
    “ Annyeke . Please, listen. Surely, even after all you accuse us of doing, you owe us that?”
    She swallowed. In truth, she wasn’t convinced she did owe them any loyalty, but if he had anything to say before she left, then let him say it.
    “Speak then,” she replied. “I will listen, but I cannot promise to believe it.”
    The First Elder shut his eyes. “When the elders before us caught and imprisoned our enemy, it was hard to keep him in captivity. The man is cunning and he had, as you may now know, been one of us; when he fell from that position, it was because he manipulated thoughts in ways we have been taught to eschew. And once a Gathandrian has tasted the dark underbelly of the mind, it is almost impossible to leave that path. To keep our enemy where he should be, some cruelty is necessary. It is not something I have enjoyed, but it is something I would do again for the good of those under my protection.”
    His eyes flashed open as if challenging her response. Annyeke snorted. “You have not succeeded very well in protecting your people though, have you?”
    His expression darkened, but he did not deny it. “That is something I truly regret. But I have tried to do so. In searching through the legends and the books we have, I began to see a theme that had not been explored before. The myth of a lost Gathandrian who will save his people came to my attention too many times for it to be mere summer madness. I began to believe it to be true, as I do so now. When the old wars finished and the enemy was imprisoned, the damage that he had caused did not vanish so easily. Throughout the lands, men still fought, having now the taste for it. Smaller battles, skirmishes, but still deadly. We tried to heal them but, at best, could only minimise the suffering. The lands under our jurisdiction were falling away, walking a more violent path.”
    “Three year-cycles ago, I and my fellow-elders on the Council decided that we must search for the Lost One, discover if he really existed or if I had been wrong. If we found him, we hoped he would bring healing where we could not. After a year-cycle, our search was still not complete.”
    The First Elder paused, took a long breath as if drawing memories and reasons back into himself for recounting. Annyeke remained silent. After a while, he continued.
    “The legends I had discovered,” he said, so quietly that Annyeke had to lean forward to hear him, “indicated that the Lost One would be drawn to defeat the enemy, but it