The Gathandrian Trilogy 03 - The Executioners Cane

wrapping itself around hers as she slept.
    Her rest that morning was dreamless and held no terrors for her. She had planned to wake long before Talus, her young charge, returned from his makeshift school for the midday meal, but in the event it was the tendrils of his enquiring mind which disturbed her and brought her gasping awake and blinking almost unseeingly at her ceiling again.
    The light swish of the curtain hanging across her front door brought Talus’ thoughts into sharper focus as he came inside, and Annyeke slipped out of the bed and grabbed her clothes. Johan stirred and mumbled something, but she paid him no attention. As she struggled into her tunic, Annyeke spun a quick mind-net round her bedroom so Talus wouldn’t dart in to try to find her. Not that he would do such a thing – at only seven summers, he found any notion of romance between adults utterly horrifying – but in her experience you could never be too careful. She made the net’s colours yellow and lilac – the colours that seemed most suited to them both.
    As she swung back her rich red hair and reached for the clip, she realised something she hadn’t had the sense to pick up on first. Talus was worried. Something had happened. Without a second thought, she dropped the clip and ran for the front room.
    She entered in a cloud of concern and brushing back her hair with one sweep of her hand in order to be able to see properly. Talus blinked at her, eyes wide.
    “What’s wrong?” she asked him, her words falling over themselves in the attempt to be heard. “What’s happened?”
    It might have been easier to probe his mind, but Annyeke had never been a supporter of using that technique when dealing with a child. In any case, her words tended to spill out when they were needed and she’d never been able to stop them, not fully.
    Talus blinked at her again and she glanced down. Seeing the top of her tunic was open to the elements, Annyeke felt her skin redden and she hurried to close the buttons.
    Sorry, little one, I was sleeping.
    At least that wasn’t a complete lie, she thought. She needn’t have worried however. Talus just shrugged. But she could still sense the lines of concern in his mind. They didn’t diminish even as she heard footsteps behind her and felt the warm aura of Johan at her side.
    “What’s wrong?” he asked quietly, repeating the question she’d asked only a heartbeat ago.
    But by then she knew exactly what had happened. She could see the image in Talus’ mind even as he spoke the words aloud. She could see the small group of them standing in the snow outside her home waiting for her permission to enter. Her own mind-net must have served to make her ignorant of their presence, although she could not guess how long they might have been there. Once she let them in – as she must do for the sake of her land and her own peace – then everything would be different and everything would begin.
    “It’s the elders,” Talus whispered. “They’re back.”

Chapter Three: The Mission

    Simon

    Inside, Jemelda’s kitchen was dark and when he entered, Simon had to blink and allow his eyes to adjust before he could see anything. The snow-raven remained in the courtyard and the scribe had had the wit to deposit the mind-cane near the bird. The two of them should be able to look after each other well enough. The cook herself said nothing. She simply bustled about at the work surface near the small window, keeping her back distinctly turned. The scribe could sense the colours pouring from her in short bursts: red, black, deathly white. He had no need to enquire as to what her feelings might be, though they seemed to run far deeper than he had anticipated. But he could not blame her. It was up to Frankel to offer him half a smile and nod, silently, at a small stool to the left of the door.
    Simon took it and sat down.
    He knew it was up to him to say something. He had invaded their home, as such, when they were least expecting it. He couldn’t help it if the fact that Ralph would also be somewhere in the castle, had perhaps been watching him when he approached, was taking away his sense of logic. What little of it he had.
    He coughed. Frankel took a step forward and glanced at his wife. She was kneading bread on the work-counter now, shoulders heaving with the effort, her back still turned. The heady scent of herbs flowed through the air and Simon felt his mouth water. It had been a while since he’d eaten any