The Gathandrian Trilogy 03 - The Executioners Cane

you this and you have all the freedom in the world in your answer. Would you be willing to share what you have here with the elders? Perhaps our close proximity can benefit us both and give us a new kind of city?”
    The First Elder let her questions hang in the air between them, allowing what was said out loud to be echoed in her thoughts. Clearly enough so anyone might read them if they wished, even a child.
    Unexpectedly, Johan hugged her, and Annyeke revelled in the warmth and strength of his grip. She suspected she would need his strength for quite a while to come.
    I love you, Annyeke, he said directly to her mind, no speech needed. In this new life we both have, I want to be part of yours, that is all.
    You are my life, Johan. The depth and the height of it.
    And you are mine. But, as the Lost One has in the past told me, I am too quick to consider what might be strictly correct and not to see things as they really are. First Elder, you are welcome to whatever you wish of this place. Forgive me.
    He broke the embrace and gazed down at her. “Let me see how structurally sound the remaining walls are. Then you can decide how best to accommodate all you need.”
    Annyeke touched his hand briefly.
    “Then we can decide,” she said. “I have no wish for this new government to be a dictatorship, and neither, I think, do the people.”
    As Johan tested the structure, Annyeke knelt next to Talus and helped him finish off the piles of paperwork he had created.
    “What shall I do with them?” he asked her when the job was done.
    Good question, she thought as she gazed at the slight shifting of colours across the records. Nothing untoward there: a few mind-disturbances, mainly of a domestic or commercial nature; some child issues, particularly in the young Gathandrians just coming up to their adult-cycle; and several requests for mind-skills development. The latter had always been the highest demands on their work-time, and Johan and she had delighted in their city-wide mix of mind-groups. Annyeke had no idea if any of these still functioned, and whether it mattered if they did or not. Everything had changed; were any of their former successes useful to them now?
    She sighed, not something she particularly liked doing, but she found she couldn’t help herself.
    “I don’t know,” she said in answer to her young charge’s question. “If we still had any desks left worth mentioning, then there would be the ideal place for them, but as you can see we only have a floor, some walls and just enough ceiling to cover us. They may as well stay where they are; they’re protected enough from the snow, and any wind that might follow it, for now.
    “We could take them home,” Talus said.
    Annyeke gazed down at him. “Home?”
    “Yes,” he nodded eagerly. “Didn’t you tell us that everything is different since the war? If you took the records home, First Elder, then there would be more space here for the elders and for meditation.”
    She knew he was right. Sometimes it took a child to point out what was obvious. She hunkered down next to him. “I agree. That’s a good idea indeed, but we need to ask Johan first.”
    From across the bare work-space, Johan laughed and turned round from his close inspection of the north wall. “I think we can make room at home. A couple of trips between us should be sufficient. In the current crisis we need to use every part of the building left to us.”
    “And perhaps we must think about how our activities will be divided in the future, or whether we even need such records.”
    Johan nodded, his expression growing serious. “You have great plans.”
    “Oh yes. Always. But for more than simple desk-work,” she replied.
    She would have said more but a green flash exploded silently in the room and took all her words away. The next moment everything vanished and she was flying and falling through nothing, and to the gods and stars knew where.

Chapter Six: Prelude to a Death

    Simon

    To his surprise, the arrival of the villagers came as a relief. He could feel their anger trailing tiny red scars over his mind, puncturing him with a hatred fuelled by despair. The nearer they came to the castle courtyard, the greater the combined sense of them. Something inside the Lost One slotted into place.
    It was for this reason he had returned. Until this moment, he had not realised how much the waiting had held him back. Now, and unexpectedly, he found he was ready.
    Simon stood. He