The Gathandrian Trilogy 02 - Hallsfoots Battle

closed his eyes for a moment or two and imagined how it would be if he had a work area of his very own, somewhere he could go to and escape from his real life, somewhere he could have control of, where he’d be safe. He could sit and think and write, and there’d be no need to take long journeys to strange places, meet members of his family he’d never met before, or fight mysterious battles. Oh yes, by the gods and stars, that would be the nearest to perfection he could envisage. He was a scribe, not a soldier.
    Even as these thoughts flowed through his blood, the scribe became aware of a deep silence around him. When he opened his eyes, the table, the walls, the room and even Annyeke were gone and all he could see was a vast expanse of water shimmering blue and silver, and above only empty sky. He gasped and tried to stand but it was impossible. He was kneeling on what looked to be a beach, similar to the one he’d seen with Johan before travelling through the Kingdom of the Water. His limbs wouldn’t obey the commands of his thought. The air smelt of winter lilac, a memory he’d not had since youth.
    Glancing from side to side, heart beating fast, he could see a line of trees to the right. He fell to his hands and tried to crawl towards them. A sound like rushing waters filled his ears.
    The trees were moving, swaying in his direction. Elms, he thought. Despite the fact they were a field’s length away he recoiled, this time scrabbling backwards, away from them. The sound became a roar. It was coming from the trees. A cloud passed over them, shot through with streaks of pink as if it were evening, but the rest of the sky remained a vibrant blue. It obscured the trees, diving down towards the scribe where he cowered transfixed on sand as if it were a wolf seeking his prey. The wild howling pierced his mind. Unable to think, unable even to breathe, Simon buried his head in his hands, his whole body shaking.
    As the howling swept over him, two words crystallised into something he could understand. Learn well.
    Crying out, he fell sideways and found his hands clasping something solid, grainy, that dug into his skin.
    “Simon? Simon? Are you all right?”
    Blinking, he looked up at Annyeke. She was shaking his shoulder from across the desk. The desk that he was gripping as if he feared he was about to drown. He gazed round for reassurance. Yes, this was Annyeke’s work area, where he’d been before…before whatever had just happened. He could see the piled up papers on her table, the gleaming array of four quills angled in a writing-pot, those nearly bare walls, and the broken window overlooking the park.
    He could also hear the hum of the mind-cane, not only outwardly but also in his thoughts. With a groan, he glanced beyond Annyeke, at the snow-raven perched on a stool at the corner of the room. The great bird spread his wings, gave one brief and raucous cry and the cane fell silent.
    Annyeke frowned.
    “What’s wrong? What happened?” she asked.
    “I don’t know,” Simon shook his head. “I was here and then I was…somewhere else.”
    “Where?”
    He tried to think how to explain, glad she was using speech and not contacting him directly. His mind felt too shaky for that. “Near water. On sand. The water stretched beyond what the eye could see and there were trees to my left. For a moment, everything was peaceful, and I…I wanted to be there even though I couldn’t get up. I was kneeling on the sand. Then, a cloud appeared above the trees and began to race towards me. I knew it would overpower me, swallow me up, but I couldn’t run. I screamed but it was too late. The cloud was upon me and then…”
    “Then…?”
    “I heard a voice saying, Learn well . And then I was here once more. Annyeke, what does it mean?”
    She sighed, turned and made her way back behind the table. “I don’t know. What we’re doing here isn’t anything we’ve done before, Simon. I have nothing to compare it with, no wise advice to give. All I would say is this—hold onto any visions you have as we prepare for Gelahn’s second attack on us. Ponder them in your heart. They may mean something, but this is too new for me to know what that might be.”
    “What about the voice?”
    Annyeke gestured, as if plucking words out of air. At the same time, the raven flapped his way towards the window and perched precariously on a stool next to it. As he spread his wings, the fate of further papers piled up on a shelf