The Gathandrian Trilogy 02 - Hallsfoots Battle

Put them back and give them to me.”
    Ralph does so. His mind is numb. When he has done as bidden, the executioner secretes them within his cloak. Afterwards, he brushes past Ralph, striding ahead on the path back to the castle. The mind-cane fizzes and sings, but the executioner himself doesn’t even look around at the scribe or Ralph. He knows they will follow.
    All the time, they stumble in the mind-executioner’s wake, neither Simon nor Ralph look at each other and they do not touch. There is so much Ralph wants— needs —to say to this man, and he cannot even begin. The mountain dogs lollop between Gelahn and them, sometimes stopping to snuffle or paw at plants or small animals at the verge and, once or twice, they snarl, but make no effort to attack. The snow-raven beats heavy wings and floats above. He can sense Simon’s fear but has no strength to offer help, though the scribe never asks for it. Neither does he offer Ralph any comfort and the Lammas Lord is glad of it. Some kindnesses only destroy.
    When they enter the courtyard of his home, it is deserted. The snow makes the cobbles slippery and Ralph almost falls. Simon makes a slight move towards him, but the gesture is as soon cut off. Ralph is panting hard, barely able to draw breath, and he is not certain how long he can remain upright. With all his being, he longs for the warmth of the castle hall, somewhere to sit.
    But that chance does not come for the wanting of it.
    The mind-executioner swings round and surveys them. With one hand, he is clutching the bag of emeralds whilst the cane of power and death hovers in his other. And, somehow, Ralph knows what he intends the heartbeat before he acts. The Overlord cries out just as Gelahn flings the emeralds up into the wintry air. The next moment, his enemy sweeps the cane in an arc across the jewels and bright green fire leaps out into the night.
    The blast of it knocks Ralph off his feet and a great wind slams him into the bare stone of the castle walls. A sharp cry pierces his mind and he knows the same fate has befallen the scribe. He tries to fight against the strange storm that has driven him here, but he cannot. It is impossible to kneel or stand. But the feebleness of Ralph’s efforts has meant that he can see into the courtyard, he can witness what powers Gelahn has conjured from the air. He has nothing left to fight the executioner with, but still he wants to know.
    He needs to know when the end comes.

    Simon
    He did not see the sudden storm coming. His head had been too full of recent events to pay any heed to what was happening immediately around him—the journey through the emeralds’ tunnel, the unexpected return to the Lammas Lands, the threat and seducing power of Gelahn, and the lies the executioner has told him. But, beyond all these, in unaccountable measure, the fact and presence of Ralph had completely unnerved him.
    In the Lammas Lord’s courtyard, he stood trembling as Gelahn stopped his frenetic pace at last. Standing a little away from him, Ralph was barely managing to keep upright. He could not tell what Gelahn intended; the Gathandrian seemed impenetrable in his certainty. What was the truth behind the emeralds Ralph had been carrying? Were they another ancient artefact like the mind-cane, or were they even more powerful than that? He could feel something pressing in his head, almost as strongly as he could feel the iciness of the day infiltrating his skin or the way the pebbles pushed against his feet. But he couldn’t get to it. Whatever knowledge he had and wherever it came from, he couldn’t access it, and neither could Gelahn. One of these was a curse, the other a blessing. How the gods and stars were playing with them now, he thought.
    He had no time to ponder these questions.
    Gelahn swirled round. The falling snow cut across his frame. Simon did not see the movement or what must have taken place, but green flames sprang upwards that could only come from Ralph’s emeralds. A dark, slim shape swept through their flight. The mind-cane.
    At that very moment, a roaring filled his thoughts and something hard and unforgiving hit him in the back. When he opened his eyes, he saw he was lying against one of the walls of the castle and gasping for breath. Ralph was further along, panting and struggling to sit up, to no avail.
    The wild wind was rising. With it came noise and chaos. Simon turned to stare back at the courtyard. The mind-executioner stood, arms raised as