The Gathandrian Trilogy 01 - The Gifting

us. When your mother died, you were still not of an age to understand them but she gifted her abilities to you anyway, through your father. She must have hoped that they would not destroy you, but would help your own powers to grow and make you the man you are now. And she was proved right in her hope. After… After a fashion.”
    At this caveat, Simon grimaces. He closes his eyes for a moment and Johan senses that his mother’s face is there in the darkness with him.
    “She loved me,” he says, letting the words linger, “and she gave me herself. And, perhaps, my father loved me enough to allow it.”
    “That is right. And I am glad of it. For your sake, and, I hope, for Gathandria’s.”
    Simon laughs. “Thank you. Thank you more than you can know. But what happens now? Must we travel further across the waters to reach our home?”
    “No,” Johan shakes his head. “Look about us and you will see that the depths and heights of your story have brought us more swiftly to our destination. But there is one further battle to undergo. May the gods preserve us all in the fighting of it.”

Chapter Seventeen: The Final Battle

    Simon
    It was true. His body must have understood for a while that the boat had stopped its slight rocking motion, but it was only now that his mind noticed also. He saw that the front of the boat had wedged against sand, soil, and grass. Beyond this, land stretched out, forming hillocks and small valleys, all of it leading in the distance to the most beautiful city he had ever seen. Gathandria. It stood high on a hill, glass buildings glittering in the touch of the sun. More of them together than he had ever seen in his life. Simon took a breath. This then was home. Of a sort. As he continued to stare, he realised that behind the beauty lay pain. The tall towers were broken, there were spaces where something had been destroyed, and the aura of blackness and gloom which lay over the place was unmistakeable. It assaulted him like a knife.
    The scribe turned away, sick to his stomach. Johan reached out and grasped his arm.
    “I know,” he said. “It is the war we have had to fight. You have to be strong, Simon. For all of us.”
    Glancing up, Simon saw his companion was not looking at him and he turned to follow the direction of Johan’s gaze.
    From the direction of the city, he saw a group of people hurrying towards them. Most were tall, thin, dressed in black, but one was shorter, more rounded. A woman. Her hair glowed red in the sunlight and she seemed to be shouting, gesticulating, but what the message might be he could not say.
    “ Annyeke ,” Johan said and Simon heard the smile in his voice. “She’s safe.”
    At the same time, he frowned as if receiving a message only he could hear. Clutching Simon’s arm, he spun around, facing the meadows and farmland.
    Two fields’ lengths away, a tall figure was striding towards them. Even at this distance, he could see the luxury of his cloak, its pentagon trim and the black and silver cane he carried. Simon’s skin grew cold.
    “The mind-executioner,” he whispered. “Do we fight him together, or alone?”
    Johan shook his head. “You must fight him alone, Simon. I’m sorry. I cannot help you now. You must take what you have learned and find a way to use it. Somehow. I…”

    Johan
    He breaks off. He sees that the enemy is not alone. Behind him and to one side, a woman follows. A woman with yellow hair. Isabella .
    And on the other side of them both is Ralph Tregannon.
    Simon jumps out of the boat, almost falling, but recovering himself just in time. Understanding nothing and with his heart pounding, Johan is close behind him.
    As his feet hit land, something in Simon changes. Johan can sense it. As if the man has reached a point where a path divides and has made a decision. To his surprise, he cannot tell what that decision is. Turning, Simon places his hand on Johan’s forehead.
    “Trust me,” he whispers.

    Simon
    Without waiting for any response, Simon broke the connection with Johan and strode up the hillocks towards Gelahn. He ignored Ralph. Or tried to. He wished he felt as confident as he’d sounded. He wished also that he knew what he’d meant by his words, but it was as if something inside had taken over, just for a moment, and he’d become another man. One he didn’t recognise.
    It didn’t last.
    Face to face with the mind-executioner, Simon found he had nothing to say. Gelahn smiled and lifted his