The Gathandrian Trilogy 03 - The Executioners Cane

evident more practical issues needed to be attended to. She did not want to be cruel.
    “I have corn-broth and water to offer. Bread and the remains of yesterday’s stew, although it will be cold.”
    “Please,” the Chair Maker spoke first, his voice hoarse and spiky. As if he had either damaged it from overuse or not spoken for a long time. “Your kindness is worth all the gods and stars we know, Annyeke Hallsfoot, First Elder of Gathandria.”
    Annyeke blinked at him. She had not expected he would be the first one to acknowledge her presence, let alone the role she carried. She had thought it would be the Mentor, the ancient one. The honour should, by rights, have been his, but he had ceded it to another. This puzzled her, but when she glanced at him, his lined face gave nothing away. No doubt many, many things would be different now. Still, she couldn’t help but mourn the loss of the mind-circle’s power, which had once given her access to the elders’ secret thoughts. Not to their reasoning though – that discovery had been entirely hers. Well, hers and Talus’ of course.
    She nodded her thanks for the Chair Maker’s courtesy and busied herself ladling out the remains of the broth and the stew for the hungry Gathandrians. They accepted it gladly but in silence. She’d always thought the elders were a strange grouping. She was sure if any of the remaining elders had been women, they would not have acted in such a way. Still, she could play this game also. So she waited until the food was gone and then she spoke again.
    “There is much to be done,” she said, gazing at her companions, one by one. “You will need to tell me about your experience at the praying tree and on your journey back home. Our people need to hear us speak as one. There have been too many lies already. I did not set out to take on the role of First Elder when these wars began, but I have done so because I care about our survival and the survival of the lands under our care. And because it is time for women to have a voice. Up to now, whilst there have been women in the Council of Elders, none has been given the role of First Elder. So, I must hear everything that has happened to you, in the mind, and then the five of us will begin this great task. Sadly, it is not one which will give us back the world we knew. We cannot return there. No, our task is to create our world anew and, this time, to make it truthful and good. There will be no more tears or pain, as far as we can prevent either. Instead, we will be honest about our plans, as a Council, and we will listen to our people. This is my desire. I hope it can be our desire.”
    When Annyeke finished speaking, the four elders gazed at each other and nodded. She heard their response in the innermost depths of her mind.
    Yes. You are right. You are First Elder, Annyeke Hallsfoot. So, let us tell you what we have found. Link with us.
    She thought about their suggestion. The mind-links between the elders were an ancient tradition. Part of their privileges and their responsibilities, and their mystique. It was the kind of link the Council had always kept hidden from their fellow Gathandrians, whereas other links could be freely known amongst the land if the parties to it were willing. This had been where many things, in her view, had gone wrong. If the people of this great city had known these same elders had planned all along to let the mind-executioner go free, simply in order to bring the Lost One, Simon Hartstongue, back to them and to usher in a new age of peace as a result, would the actions taken have been very different? Annyeke hoped so. She hoped the Gathandrian people had enough compassion that if they had known what the elders were planning, they would have prevented it. But, no, even this she could not tell. No matter how much of a path anyone had into someone’s mind, she had come to realise it was impossible fully to understand another or to influence them unduly. People were who they were, or who they were allowed to be. It had taken these wars, the horror of nearly losing Johan and the unexpected pleasure of meeting the Lost One to make her realise this for herself.
    So she paused. She wanted to make the elders accept her more fully in the role she must play, and at the same time she needed to make things different from what they had been.
    Finally she spoke. Aloud, not just to their thoughts.
    “Yes,” she said. “We must link our minds and offer a true