The Gathandrian Trilogy 03 - The Executioners Cane

he muttered eyes downcast as a young woman slipped to his side and grasped his arm. “They only pray while we work to repair our homes and livelihoods. They do not follow the commands you gave yesterday, so what is the use of them to us? They should leave and not come back. In fact, we will make them leave ourselves.”
    With that, he lunged forward and gripped the closest praying elder. It was the Chair Maker, but a flash of crimson from his mouth made the rebellious Gathandrian cry out and stagger away. It was the catalyst for the rest of the murmuring people, but Annyeke got there first. She leapt over the head of the Maker of Gardens, who at least had the sense to duck, to land in the middle of the circle. At once the prayer link was broken and the elders too cried out, but once more Annyeke ignored them.
    “Stop!” she yelled in a voice that brooked no disagreement. “ Listen to me before you fight again.”
    For a vital moment, the people paused in their advance and anger, and Annyeke could sense their determination to thrust out the elders from amongst them vying with their acknowledgement of the leadership granted to her. A delicate balance and she forced her way into it, but not in the manner they expected.
    “You,” she said, her gaze taking in all four of the elders as they stood up, trembling from the exertions of prayer. “You have let me down and betrayed the people’s trust today. I asked you to work with the dwellers of Gathandria and you have not done as I commanded you. Tell me: what reasons do you have for such disobedience?”
    The elders gazed back at her and she could feel the wild swirl of their confusion almost threatening to drown her. She shook it off and stood firm.
    “Tell me,” she said again, “by the gods and stars.”
    Such a command was unheard of in Gathandria. No-one had ever questioned the elders in this fashion and certainly no-one had confronted them in the middle of a near-violent disagreement; it would have been assumed the other party, whoever they might be, was the one at fault. By turning to the elders first, Annyeke had showed how she judged their actions, rather than those of the Gathandrian workers, as carrying the greatest wrong. It was an insult to the city’s traditions, and she waited, not entirely patiently, to see what their response would be, whilst around her flowed the tangible support of her people.
    Into this strange stand-off, a man walked quietly through the throng to stand beside her. She did not glance at him, but kept her eyes fixed on the Chair Maker, although she willingly eased her fingers through Johan’s when his hand touched hers. Being partnered might have benefits even she had not yet supposed.
    “It might be wisest to answer the First Elder,” Johan spoke, his voice no more than a whisper but his meaning and mind-voice clear to all. “Or we are in danger of catching a chill on this winter morning.”
    The Chair Maker nodded and gestured for the other three elders to join him. The distinct groups, the elders, the people, and Johan, Talus and Annyeke, must have made an odd sight in the Place of Meeting, but everything was different now, so they would have to learn to be different also. Annyeke let go of Johan’s hand and took the few steps to stand directly in front of the elders.
    “Speak then,” she said, “as I have commanded it.”
    The Chair Maker stepped forward and looked down at Annyeke. Not for the first time, she cursed her small stature. His round face looked as serious as she had ever seen it.
    “We are elders,” he said. “No matter what crimes we have committed and which we came here to seek forgiveness for, we are still the people appointed to act as a bridge between Gathandrians and the Great Spirit. We may work as you have commanded us to do, First Elder, and we will do so but we must also pray. It is our most ancient priority and our great commission.”
    Annyeke had little argument with that, in the old world before the war. But this was the new world, after the war, and all the ancient priorities and great commissions in the lands would have to find a new place. However, there was wisdom in the Chair Maker’s words and she would use it.
    “Yes,” she said. “You speak the truth, but your vision is too narrow. We must all work as you have said but we must also all pray. Not only you and me, as the elders, but the people with us, men and women and children too. Only then shall the Spirit of Gathandria be