The Gathandrian Trilogy 03 - The Executioners Cane

have had too much of death.”
    Apolyon shows wisdom beyond his year-cycles and beyond the year-cycles of them all in saying it.
    “Good. Because I must try and save him. Tell me where the scribe left the emeralds. I must find them soon.”
    As he is talking, Ralph is already hunting, pulling the table to one side, though he sees nothing underneath. Then a few strides bring the Tregannon Lord to the back wall of cupboards. He hasn’t got long before Simon will die. He must hurry. Ralph wrenches the cupboards open, scrabbling in the dark to see what he longs to. Still nothing. The boy’s voice brings him to himself again.
    “Sir, they are yours. Can you sense them?”
    Ralph spins round to face him. The young steward has never directly questioned him before, and has certainly never spoken unless he commanded him. There are a thousand things Ralph should say for this intrusion, things his father taught him, but those days are over, and he needs to learn to listen to the truth.
    Closing his eyes, he reaches out with the little mind-power he has to pinpoint the Tregannon jewels. He no longer cares if the boy realises what he is doing and what these mind-skills mean. Let him.
    When Ralph opens his eyes, he knows where the jewels are and who has put them there. Frankel, the cook’s quiet husband took them from Simon and they are hidden in the depths of the small cupboard near the washing area. A heartbeat later and they are in the Lammas Lord’s hands. The boy gasps as the green glow flows across Ralph’s fingers but he pays him no heed. He is too busy fighting the unexpected heat which launches through his skin the moment he touches the emeralds.
    Ralph can’t fight it for long; it burns him up and he fall backwards against the table, displacing a jug and a plate that fall with a clatter to the stone flooring. The next moment, Apolyon is beside him. The Lammas Lord has no idea why he should be so concerned and tries to warn him to stay away. Nothing comes out of his mouth, but the boy seems to understand Ralph’s expression as he frowns and pauses in the act of trying to reach for him. At the same time, the green fire enters Ralph’s mind.
    Foolishly, like a man who hopes he can win, the Lammas Lord fights it for one long and agonised moment. Then the green fire forms a circle as it did when the mind-executioner fought his last battle, and Ralph is pulled roughly into the middle of the flames.
    He can’t breathe and wonders if by now Simon feels the same. By the gods and stars, whatever he does, he must do quickly, or he may be too late. Then, when he expects to be plunged into darkness, his throat opens and he sucks in air. It’s green. In fact everything is green and he is floating, but where he is it is impossible to say. It is similar to the journey he took with Simon and the mind-executioner from the Lammas Lands to Gathandria, except that journey was wild and terrifying in its strangeness; this one is calmer, more fluid. And he is not arriving anywhere else, but instead he is simply floating in a world of the emeralds’ making. The time-cycle has stopped. It is impossible but he knows it to be true. This must indeed be part of the unknown power of the jewels: they are a mind-road and a harbour, of sorts. He is certainly no longer in the castle kitchen and neither is the boy with him; he can sense nobody here but himself.
    What do the emeralds wish him to do and can they help him save Simon?
    He stretches out his hands and presses his fingers against the mysterious green circle that surrounds him. It gives a little but not enough to break through into whatever is beyond. Just as he wonders how he can discover what his next step should be, the area of the circle ahead of him bursts inwards and someone comes flying through. Behind this figure, Ralph catches a glimpse of broken stone walls and flying papers and a wide-eyed boy before the flame closes in on itself again.
    He turns his attention to his new companion, already groaning and struggling to rise. It’s a woman. For a full heartbeat he has no idea who she is, but then she turns and glares at him, as if he is the perpetrator of her sudden entrance to the emeralds’ circle. When, in fact, he has no control over what his family treasures can do. He recognises her red hair and the fury in her eyes.
    “Annyeke Hallsfoot,” he says, finding the name suddenly in his thoughts even though he is not aware of knowing it before. “You are from Gathandria.