The Gathandrian Trilogy 02 - Hallsfoots Battle

moment or two, he finds nothing. Then, just as he is about to curse himself and the deceitful cane for all kinds of betrayal, his fingers touch something hard and round hidden in the soil. It is so small he all but missed it.
    He grasps the unknown treasure and pulls it upward into the sun. What he sees is an emerald. And what value can such easy riches bring him? Almost nothing, except he can feel the mind-cane’s power surging through his blood, singing itself towards the jewel he holds in his fingers. At the same time, the emerald responds in kind to the song and its sparkle takes on a richer hue. Gelahn feels as if he is a bridge between worlds that have been apart for too long.
    Simon’s question remains. What is it? This jewel should not be in this place. It lies nowhere in his mind so he cannot have placed it here. It must have come through with the dogs. It must be part of the pathway that carried them from the Lammas Lands where he left them. But how, and for what purpose? And, more importantly, how can such magic be used to help him?

    Simon
    When the mind-executioner held up the small green jewel, the scribe knew at once what it was. His heart beat faster and he stepped forward, only for one of the mountain beasts, those dark tearers of flesh, to raise its head and snarl softly at him. He stopped at once, not that his customary cowardice mattered. He had one thought in his mind and one thought only. Ralph .
    The emerald belonged to the Lammas Lord, Simon was sure of it, not that he had seen it with his eyes, but he had sensed it often enough in Ralph’s mind when they were together. He had assumed there were more of them, however, not just one. Where were the others? And why should Ralph have let them go? The knowledge of them had been a private matter, something to do with the Lammas Lord’s family. When Simon had seen their image in his liege lord’s thoughts, it had been buried deep in an almost unused corner of his memories. The scribe had not disturbed it, but he knew Ralph held the mysterious emeralds in high regard. Something must have happened to him for one of them to be lost, and for the dogs to be here.
    It was odd, Simon thought, that only in this moment had he understood it was one thing to turn one’s back on a friend because that was the right, the only, thing to do. It was quite another to accept it in the blood.
    He took another step and the dog raised itself to its haunches. The snarling turned into a growl. At the same time, several things happened at once. The snow-raven swooped down towards him and he felt the edge of the bird’s wing brush against his face, causing a jolt of power to flare upwards in his mind. He lifted his hand and the mind-cane twisted out of Gelahn’s grip and flew easily into his fingers, once more fitting there as naturally as if it had been carved for him alone and, finally, he strode towards the mountain dog as if he were another kind of beast entirely and brought down the end of the cane onto its undulating head as Gelahn had done only a few moments ago. The animal sank to the earth, stone paws twitching and blood oozing from its flesh. The rest of the pack dogs flattened themselves to the ground and Simon passed through, the mind-cane humming a song whose melody echoed in his own head. He was shaking, but whether with the sudden influx of power or through fear he could not tell. Probably, it was both.
    When he came to where Gelahn stood, the executioner said nothing. Instead, he raised one eyebrow and reached for the cane. From above, the snow-raven cried out, a piercing note of warning that vanished into the breeze as Simon continued to hesitate.
    Gelahn’s lips tightened. Then he spoke.
    “If you feel you have gift enough to hold the mind-cane on your own,” he said, “then you are, of course, at liberty to do so. You are not my prisoner. But if you are unsure, then let one who has the experience of dealing with its wildness take it.”
    Another pause, when the scribe felt the beat of his blood filling his head. He gripped the cane, determined to fight if he had to, but Gelahn wrapped his fingers around its carved top and snatched it from him. A few sparks of black fire leapt into the air and the humming stopped. So much for determination, he thought.
    The mind-executioner smiled, gesturing towards the dogs. “Indeed, you have never liked those beasts. But, please, try not to injure them all; we are likely to need them.”
    Simon ignored him.