The Gathandrian Trilogy 03 - The Executioners Cane

before, and besides he didn’t know what to say, so in silence he helped the old man to his feet and then together the two of them began to retrace their steps through the corridors and shattered rooms of Ralph’s domain and into the courtyard. The mind-cane lay quiet in his grasp.
    As Simon made his way outside, matching his pace to his father’s slower gait and occasionally steadying him when he looked likely to stumble, the memory of how Ralph’s home used to be came flooding in. In the time when Simon had served the Lammas Lord as lover and accessory to murder, no matter how grim the day-cycle, there had always been life here. The servants hurrying to bring bread and root-wine to break their master’s fast, the maids sweeping the floors and preparing the linen to wash, even the restlessness of the castle dogs as they hungered for the few scraps that might fall from the plates and platters. Beyond the castle too there had been a sense of bustle and purpose. The tradesmen preparing their booths for another day-cycle’s business in the outer courtyard, bakers, potters and the travelling herb-sellers as he himself had been. And, finally, there had been the soldiers, and the noise and energy they had brought. How he had hated and feared them in the recent past, and how strange he missed them now. He did not believe he would see that world again. No matter, they – he – must make another in which the Lammassers could dwell. It was what he had returned to do.
    Once outside, he looked upward until he spotted the snow-raven. The bird was perched on a remnant of the castle walls. When he saw Simon, the raven stretched his wings and cried out a single golden-edged note before lifting off silently and gliding down to the earth next to the two men. Simon’s father gave a low moan and tried to get away.
    “It’s all right,” Simon said, laying his hand on the old man’s arm. “The raven won’t hurt you.”
    His father continued to shake but made no further attempt to escape as the bird hopped nearer. At the same moment, Ralph swept out of the castle and began to stride across the courtyard towards him. Simon noticed the leg injury he’d sustained during the wars barely slowed him, but then again, that was typical of the Lammas Lord in full flight. He would allow nothing to stop him. In that, Simon thought, he was not too far away from either the snow-raven or the mind-cane.
    “Simon,” Ralph said in greeting, nothing more than a mere acknowledgement of his presence. “As guests in my home, I should offer you sustenance, but there is none. We must save what we have for the midday hour when we might need it most. But there will be water in the kitchen and perhaps a cup or two of broth. Jemelda always …”
    The Lammas Lord broke off and a shadow passed over his face. Simon waited until Ralph breathed easier again.
    “Then let us drink whilst we can, my lord,” he said quietly.
    In the kitchen area, upon their entrance Frankel came hurrying out of the recesses. Ralph’s young steward lurked behind him, casting unhappy glances at the mind-cane. Simon could feel the boy’s fear even without the gift of sensing thought, as the colours of orange and black filled his imagination.
    “The cane will not harm you,” he said. “We have come here for refreshment, not to cause pain.”
    At being addressed so, the boy ducked his head and disappeared into the back rooms behind the kitchen area. A moment or so later, he returned, carrying a pitcher of water which he placed as carefully as possible on the table, while Frankel fetched beakers and stools.
    “Thank you,” Simon said, though he had not meant his words to the boy as a command but more as a reassurance. Ralph too nodded his gratitude. This close, Simon could catch his feelings clearly but whether that was a good thing or not remained to be seen.
    Ralph sat and Simon likewise helped his father to sit before taking his own seat opposite the Lammas Lord. He laid the mind-cane across his knees, out of sight. The warmth of it infiltrated his skin and he felt his thoughts sparking with its nearness. He waited for Frankel and the boy to take their places but they did not and he realised, with a jolt, how ingrained were the habits of service even now.
    As Ralph began to speak, grasping his beaker of water closer to himself but not tasting it, Simon reached across and tapped him gently on the arm. Ralph stopped at once, frowning, and Simon too had to shake his