The Gathandrian Trilogy 03 - The Executioners Cane

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    Then, one morning as that first moon-cycle was waning, Ralph had risen early, taken the emeralds he kept close to his bed and left his chamber, his intent clear. At the threshold he had paused and glanced back, smiling to see Simon still sleeping, one arm splayed out across the pillows, his expression one of satisfaction and peace. This blessing had been one he longed for but had never thought would come about, but in the end it had been Simon who came to him on the second seven-day after the battle. The scribe had said nothing when he entered Ralph’s bedchamber that night after a day when both of them had been busy directing the men and women in the rebuilding of their village and ensuring the little food they had left or which the people could find was fairly allocated. Odd how there was so much Ralph had wanted to say at the sight of him, but Simon simply closed the door quietly, padded over the stone floor and slipped into the bed next to him.
    At their first touch, Ralph believed Simon had known everything in any case and after that, their re-encounter had been surprisingly easy. The mind-executioner had for a while lain in spirit between them, both in his overpowering of Ralph’s actions and in his ravishment of Simon’s mind, but then later that no longer mattered, as the colours forged in their coupling were strong enough to overcome his memory. The talking too had come later and in fits and starts – at heart Ralph was a soldier, not a lover – but it was slowly becoming enough. A new thing for him but a good one, and he took joy in it.
    But that first morning, no matter how much he longed to cherish the beginning of the day in Simon’s arms, Ralph had other purposes in mind. So he moved through the castle rapidly, gathering cloak and boots where he had left them in his dressing area, and striding through the corridors and down the great stairs until he came to the outer hallway. He did not bother with washing. With what he had in mind, there would be no point.
    In the courtyard, he passed the kitchen and could not help glancing over, thinking of Jemelda. His failure to recover her haunted him and, even though there was a new cook there now, a woman from the village and barely more than a girl, it would be a long time before he stopped seeing Jemelda’s face in his dealings with the kitchen. It would be a long time too before he forgot the look in Frankel’s eyes. The cook’s widower had lived in the castle since the battle and had not set foot in his old domain. Apolyon, Ralph’s young steward, looked after him as well as his master. Ralph would have it no other way.
    That morning, the Lammas Lord did not saddle his horse and did not call for his steward. Instead he made his way to the fields, carrying with him the tools he had found abandoned in one of his outbuildings. The journey took longer than usual as his leg remained weak, but the pain was bearable and he would have to use only the skills he possessed, not those he did not.
    Once at the furthest field, one close to where Jemelda had burned their seeds, Ralph had removed his cloak and knelt on it. Then he had got to work, using his hands and the hoeing implements to turn the soil around each sprig of corn in order to encourage its growth. This was work for the poorest of the people and he had never done it himself, but he had seen it done when touring his fields and it was easily remembered. Not so easy to perform though and only the start of an autumn story had gone by before his muscles ached and he gasped for water. It had been evident that all the military exercises in the world meant nothing when it came to working on the land. Nonetheless, the emeralds at his side gave him warmth and purpose and he continued the labour, moving his cloak every few minutes to the next part of the corn row and the next and the next until the sun was fully risen in the sky. That was where the first field-labourers found him when they came to commence their day-cycle. They had said nothing, but had stared for a long while, their amazement evident, before walking to the far side of the field and beginning the same work there. Not long after, Simon had joined him, bringing him water which he was more than grateful for, and touching him lightly on the cheek in the way they had before taking his place beside him and working with him. Ralph was pleased to see the mind-cane and the raven had been left behind.
    For three day-cycles the two of them worked