The Gathandrian Trilogy 03 - The Executioners Cane

smile, although her voice broke a little, “but it warms my mind to see you again, Lost One.”
    Simon could think of nothing whatsoever to say in return and simply hugged her, thanking the gods and stars she was safe.
    Annyeke broke the hug quickly, her expression serious.
    “I know you and the Lammas Lands have much to occupy you,” she said, glancing at Ralph before returning her gaze to Simon. “But there are other battles we need to fight.”
    Simon snorted. “There are always other battles, Annyeke. So many of them I wonder we will ever have peace.”
    “Yes, I know,” she replied, “but peace also comes by fighting for it.”
    Yes, he imagined it did. Indeed, Annyeke had fought bravely in Gathandria for her ward Talus and had defeated the mind-executioner for all time-cycles in a way Simon could never have done. He needed to listen to her.
    “Speak,” he said, “and then we will fulfil as best we can the commands Lord Tregannon has given us.”
    Ralph’s expression was carefully neutral at this delay of his mission, but Simon could sense the jagged red and green of his impatience.
    “If that is acceptable to you all?” he added, turning to take in the small group of gathered people with his glance.
    After a heartbeat or two, Ralph nodded. His agreement seemed to speak for the rest also, but then who amongst them would object now Jemelda had gone?
    “Bring the First Elder a cup of water,” the Lammas Lord said. “I believe she has need of it.”
    His steward ran to obey, though Simon doubted any water today would be fresh. Still he couldn’t help but admire the confidence with which Ralph had spoken, as if unexpected guests could be easily catered for in these difficult times. Annyeke too must have caught the sense of Ralph’s action as he saw her hide her smile. The Lammas Lord must have temporarily forgotten the depths of the Gathandrians’ mind-skills.
    The First Elder’s smile didn’t last for long.
    She stepped closer to Simon. “It will be quicker if I link with you to explain what I believe. Will you allow it?”
    Simon didn’t respond as such. He simply reached for her hand and laid her fingers on his forehead. At once the sensations of emptiness and colour filled his mind and he was sure he could smell lemons, but he couldn’t think why. Within moments, he had understood what it was she wanted and why she thought it was right. The leaves, the parchment, the sense of space, and longing too. The role of the dead Iffenia in the heart of Jemelda and the influence of the Book of Blood overwhelmed him but, however strange and terrifying, he knew what she conveyed was the truth. He stepped away from the link, half stumbling, and felt the shape of the mind-cane imprint itself on the palm of his hand where his grip had tightened.
    “I have no stories to tell, Annyeke,” he said. “None which can save two countries. Not against such dark magic.”
    Ralph touched him on the shoulder, and Simon felt a flare of intent, crimson and blue, flash between them both. Ralph let go at once. He was frowning. “What do you mean? What has she told you?”
    Simon brought the cane up to his chest and took a strange kind of comfort from its warmth. At the same time, he heard a piercing note of song and the snow-raven fluttered down from the skies in a dance of clear whiteness, causing Annyeke to look warily in the bird’s direction. Knowing her instinctive dislike of the bird, he stepped between the First Elder and the snow-raven, swallowed and spoke.
    “While we fight for survival here,” he said, softly at first but gaining confidence as he continued, “Gathandria is also fighting to rebuild its great city and to rebuild our land. Our destinies are linked. The powers of rebellion given to your former cook are helped by the enemies of Gathandria in ways I struggle to comprehend. The dead spirit of the wife of one of the elders dwells in Jemelda, or so Annyeke tells me and so I believe. Perhaps this is why we have struggled to overcome her. But there is a way out of the pain of battle. Stories helped Johan and me survive on our journey to Gathandria, and now the elders believe stories can bring a lasting peace, and make our earth and air flourish again as they should do. They believe the purity of them will overcome our enemies and invigorate the land, so true peace will be restored more quickly.”
    Ralph’s response was instant, as Simon had expected. “If this is right, then we must do it.