The Gathandrian Trilogy 01 - The Gifting

here; such men do not stay anywhere for long. I will hide for a while, in the outer lands, beyond the woods. It is a life I have led before. Once Gelahn has gone, I will seek Ralph out and his heart will have softened towards me. It is the mind-executioner who has turned him against me now, I am sure of it. All will be well.”
    Johan laughed. But when he spoke, his voice was serious.
    “On the contrary,” he said, “there is far more at stake than you imagine, Simon Hartstongue. There is a world beyond your understanding now, although once you had the power to seek it. Why did you turn from the path in the way that you have? How did you come to settle for the half-life you live? If you had stayed on the road you were destined for, you would not now be a liege-lord’s pet dog and a betrayer of men. But you have reaped what you sowed, so let me tell you the truth; you have no home here. Even without our enemy’s presence, Ralph and his people would seek your blood now. If you wish to live—and it’s obvious that you do—you must come with us.”
    When he finished, Simon’s hands were clenched into fists. He had nothing to say in his own defence. It was as if Johan had lived the last two year-cycles at the scribe’s side, and knew everything. Damn him but, with his powers, perhaps he did. The stranger was right about his life.
    “So,” Johan said, and the dark shadows darkened still further as he leaned towards Simon and gripped the side of his face. “So, now you know how much I know, will you come with us?”
    Even though Simon couldn’t see the other man’s eyes, he could feel the power of his gaze burning through him. As usual, he didn’t seem to have much of a choice. And he had to admit that what Johan said made sense. But there was still another important issue which must be decided. No, two issues.
    “As you wish,” Simon said and felt the strength in Johan’s fingers soften a little. “But if I must travel with you, then we take the boy. The boy from the village. And my writing instruments. I’ll go nowhere without either. I swear it.”

Chapter Six: The Blacksmith’s Heart

    Isabella
    Good. They are going back to the village. The mind-healer will kill Hartstongue there. She already knows that he will be waiting for them. She must keep her brother as safe as she can. Who knows what destruction will be released when Gelahn enforces his will on the scribe? Isabella is pleased that Hartstongue made the decision to return for the boy, though she thinks both her brother and she were surprised. They assumed he was too much of a coward to risk his life for no purpose.
    For it is for no purpose. The boy is fated to die. If not here, then soon. It is written in the stars, and Gelahn has already marked the apprentice with the sign of death. It is simply a question of when. As Isabella sings her songs of peace over her herbs in preparation for what Johan and Hartstongue have agreed upon, it occurs to her that she feels no sorrow over this small loss. Once she thinks she would have done. Something in her misses that emotion, but she must trust that Gelahn will restore all things.
    After all, that is what he has promised to do. After Hartstongue is no more.
    “Come,” her brother says. “It is time.”

    Simon
    Simon shivered in the night breeze. Twice already the little owl had sounded her call; soon it would be dawn. He crouched at the edge of the village, behind the crumbled wall of the old well. The new well in the heart of the village had been built five year-cycles ago, or so he’d been told, and served all the needs of the people for drinking, washing and cooking. Ralph, of course, kept his own source of water in his castle grounds and had always done so. For some reason, however, the old well had never been destroyed and was used most often now as a meeting place for lovers, or for those dealing in secrets. Over the last eighteen moon-cycles, Simon had hidden here often, watching for those whom Ralph suspected of rebellion or other crimes.
    Behind him, he could sense the presence of Johan and Isabella. Johan had argued against his wish to take the boy, but not for long once he’d seen the scribe was set on it. Why did they want him for this journey of theirs? Their powers were, at first taste, far greater than Simon’s had ever been at their height, let alone now when he was weak from the way he’d misused his gift. What good could he possibly do them?
    “Why do you hesitate?”