The Gathandrian Trilogy 01 - The Gifting

mind-cane.
    “Don’t you understand that I am going to destroy you, Simon Hartstongue?” he said.
    Before he could answer, the ground beneath trembled and groaned as if it was giving birth, or as if thunder was pulsating from the soil instead of roaring from the sky.
    “What?”
    Simon grabbed for something to steady himself and his fingers brushed against Gelahn’s cane. The mind-executioner snarled and snatched it away but it was already too late for reprisals. A circle of swirling earth rose around them and dust scattered through the air before settling on hair, clothes, skin. Simon had to wipe his eyes before he could see again. He coughed until his throat was clean once more, and the air became breathable.
    When he next looked up, Simon saw that Gelahn was as calm and untroubled as if what had just happened had been nothing more than a stroll to the village well. Gathandria had disappeared. So had Johan, Ralph and what he could hardly believe had been Isabella too. Instead, around them both stood a circle of solid, grey figures, tall and swaying slightly. For a moment, he couldn’t place them and then he remembered: the mountain people, although now they were silent. The mountain no longer sang. However, the same feeling came over him that he had experienced before—a feeling of being in the presence of mystery, of being young and untried in the face of uncountable age.
    He knew without having to search for it that they could kill him in a moment if they chose to. Or if the mind-executioner willed it. Power surged through them; it was that which was making them sway. Simon found that his legs were unsteady and he sank to his knees.
    “There’s something,” he whispered. “Something… I…”
    The next moment he was lying across the ground. It felt cold to the touch. Struggling to sit up, Simon found he had no strength to do it. The mountain people were draining the power from him as they had done before.
    They’re working with Gelahn, he thought, and he had no means to fight it . But he had to do something before it was too late.
    His eyes fluttered shut. Sleep. Nothing else seemed to matter any more. The fight was surely over before it had fully begun. He didn’t even remember what it was they were fighting for. He stretched his fingers out. They seemed to hum and the image of the mind-cane flashed into his thoughts. And with it a precious knowledge.
    Simon’s eyes darted open and his hand grasped the shifting soil. The mountain people were all but upon him, one of them already at his feet.
    He opened his mouth. Spoke his words also directly to Gelahn’s mind, the first time he’d dared to do so.
    “The cane,” he whispered. “It does not belong to you.”
    The mind-executioner cursed, and the mountain people paused. The sun lit up their strange granite faces, and the hills and scars of their bodies. Simon’s throat felt as dry as stone. He could feel Gelahn capturing his thoughts, holding them, squeezing them. He cried out and the humming began again. The mountain men leaned towards him and the nearest one raised his foot to step nearer. Their unchanging faces were as hard as death itself and the scribe shrank back. At the same time, his mind split from Gelahn’s and he saw the mind-cane buck and dance in the executioner’s grip.
    His enemy took a step forward, his eyes as dark as winter. Simon’s fingers clutched at the soil. He brought the earth upwards.
    “Neither is this yours,” he said.
    His hand touched the nearest of the rock people. A sudden connection and Simon knew he was looking into the heart of the mountain man he’d met before. A flash and roar as if the ground itself was in rebellion. Then all was darkness.

    Annyeke
    Annyeke couldn’t help herself. Abandoning the elders, she ran towards Johan, ignoring the threat of Gelahn and his followers. Ignoring even the presence of the scribe, now striding towards the mind-executioner, and the mysterious appearance of Isabella.
    “Johan!” she yelled.
    He turned wild eyes upon her but only for a moment, as his gaze turned back to his sister. He stumbled towards Isabella just as Annyeke reached him. She grabbed his arm but before she could say anything, a roar of pain powered through her head. She fell to the ground and Johan tumbled with her. He was calling out his sister’s name. He smelled of the sea and his beard rasped against her face. She knew that the same pain was filling his head also. She wondered how Gelahn had