The Gathandrian Trilogy 02 - Hallsfoots Battle

sparrow on her lap. She tried to get up, push the bird away, but her grandmother held her down.
    Be quiet. You must learn how to overcome your fears. Start with this dead bird. It cannot hurt you.
    Those words sparked crimson into the wild dark waters of her scream. It worsened the pain and she struggled against Yeke’s harsh grip.
    Don’t fight me.
    Annyeke could feel the concern flowing from her father and mother, and could see through the haze of swirling colours her mother’s face disfigured by a frown. She couldn’t see her father. Her mother was mouthing words she couldn’t hear, the sense of them lost in the protective mind-net her grandmother had flung round them both.
    She couldn’t escape it. She couldn’t escape Yeke. She would never be able to. That knowledge released her tongue.
    “ Leave me alone, ” she screamed, words suddenly escaping through the dark rush of fear. “ I hate you. ”
    As she flung her thought outwards at her tormentor, all the past reared up once more within her and the black waters filled her again. She could have spoken a thousand instances of Yeke’s injustice, her clumsy cruelty and, most of all these, the way that Annyeke was never adult enough to fight back. Could never be so. For as long as she lived, such phrases would always be just out of her reach.
    Instead, she grasped the now dead sparrow. Blood slicked her fingers and she had to swallow down the urge to vomit. Crushing the bird in her hand, she half stood up, aware of the surprise in her grandmother’s face and feeling that same surprise in her mind. The mind-net must have woven its spell across her young thoughts, too, must be keeping them from the woman in front of her. For a few moments only, Yeke didn’t know what she was going to do next. The realisation liberated her. Annyeke took the bird and pressed it against her grandmother’s face, smearing her with blood and feathers, across her skin, her mouth, her hair. Then she let it go.
    That done, the words leapt straight from her mind to Yeke’s, the mind-net acting as a deadly passageway between them. I hate you, Annyeke said. You are cruel and I hate you.
    In the silence that followed, even as the mind-net faded to nothing, she knew that the family would never be the same again.
    *****
    Annyeke stopped. She’d revealed more than she’d intended to. Best to keep silent for a while, and surely there was enough there for the scribe to work with. Perhaps they’d both been wrong, though? Perhaps she should have kept to her first plan and shared the Tale of The Two Brothers with him, that archetypal Gathandrian tale of justice and anger. Now she could not see how her own meagre history could possibly give him the insight he needed to save them. She should never have allowed him to convince her. Time had been wasted that she could ill afford and they would have to work doubly hard to prepare for the great battle to come. She could sense it in her blood. It was nearer now than when she had first reckoned the day-cycles.
    Thank you.
    Simon’s voice. It brushed through her thoughts like a soft breeze passing through but leaving no damage.
    For what? she asked him.
    For giving me something of Gathandria and its people, rather than simply the ancient stories. I think it helps.
    Refraining from asking in what way it could help, she could sense her companion’s mind still sifting through the tale she had told, her grandmother’s injustice and Annyeke’s own long-held rage. Was that what he’d taken from her story? Not much of worth there, then. The small orbs of weakness discovered within her had been right. She found she was crying and closed her eyes.
    No. You mistake yourself. And me, the scribe continued. What your grandmother did was wrong. She did what she thought was best, but it was not the right thing for you. I do not think your anger was misplaced, Annyeke. I think it was justified. I would have felt the same. Have done so, indeed, under different circumstances. Though I would not, I am ashamed to say, have had the courage to fight back as you did. Would that I had. Then I think my life would have been much simpler.
    A silence during which they stared at each other. Then suddenly they were both laughing, again. Annyeke could sense a wave of blue easing through her mind. It must come from Simon, or be something to do with what they’d just shared together. How could he do that when she was the stronger? No matter. For a heartbeat or two, that