“Have you spoken to them yet?” he asked.
“Not yet. I came here first, and will be going straight to their parents once we are done. I have one more thing to say to you, Gaspi,” Hahldorn said, all excitement gone from his voice, and a look of gravity stealing over his features, his eyes curiously intense. “This vision of Martha’s; she said it felt very significant, and not just for you. There is a sense of destiny in what she saw, and you three are going to be involved in something momentous. I’m asking you to take this seriously, Gaspi. More lives than your own may count on it.”
“Okay, Hahldorn, stop scaring the boy,” Jonn said firmly, placing a hand on Gaspi’s shoulder. “What will be, will be. Gaspi and I will go to Helioport. We’ll see what Emea and Taurnil’s parents say before counting them in, shall we?”
“Of course, of course,” Hahldorn responded, his face reddening in embarrassment. “Yes, let’s head on over there now. Will you come?”
“I will, but Gaspi is too weak,” Jonn responded. “He can stay here. I’ll send Taurnil and Emea over to keep him company while we hammer this out.” The two adults left the house, leaving Gaspi to his thoughts.
Not five minutes later, Taurnil and Emea burst through the door, and finding Gaspi at the kitchen table they pulled up some chairs and bombarded him with questions.
“What happened last night?” Taurnil asked.
“What’s going on?” Emea joined in. “Da sent me away before I could hear.”
“Why are Hahldorn and Jonn looking so serious?” Taurnil followed up, not giving Gaspi a chance to speak.
Gaspi answered their questions, filling them in on the confrontation with Brock and Jakko the previous night, on the eruption of his magic, on Martha’s vision, and after many more questions his two friends eventually became quiet.
“Well, you know I will come, Gasp,” said Taurnil, his gentle gaze steadfastly holding Gaspi’s own. Gaspi was overwhelmed by the surge of gratitude he felt for his friend right then, his eyes filling with tears. He looked down at the floor, coughing and rubbing his face with his arm to cover his embarrassment. Taurnil was like a rock, and nothing more needed to be said. He had made his decision, and nothing could turn him from it. In his heart of hearts, Gaspi knew that to Taurnil their friendship meant more than life, and in that moment he began to wonder if there might be something to this talk of destiny. If he was to have a protector, he couldn’t wish for anyone better.
Without meaning to, they both turned to look at Emea, whose face was a conflicting mixture of emotions more complex than either boy could interpret. She looked up, embarrassed at the attention, and feeling the pressure to respond as Taurnil had.
“It’s okay, Emmy,” Gaspi said, “If you don’t want to…” He trailed off unconvincingly, vulnerability shining through his words like a beacon.
In that moment, Emea’s confusion cleared up. “Oh Gaspi, of course I will come. That is not even a question.” She reached out and held onto the hands of both her friends. “It’s just that it’s all too much. I mean…you having magic, and
me
, a
Healer
? And this is our home. And how will our parents feel? I just don’t think they will let us go.”
Gaspi barely heard any of it. The people who meant more to him than anything in the world - his two friends and Jonn - wanted to travel with him. Yes, he would miss Aemon’s Reach, but to Gaspi home was where these three people were, and life could not be too bad if they were with him.
The three friends talked long into the afternoon - waiting for the verdict on their futures, imagining travel and adventure and the great city of Helioport - until Jonn came back and took them all to Taurnil’s house, where all four parents were waiting, along with Hahldorn and Martha.
Taurnil’s Ma looked like she had been crying, and his Da’s face was ominously serious. “Sit down, you three,” he said, which they instantly did. He was the kind of man you didn’t disobey; not given to anger or ever harsh, but he carried the kind of soft-spoken authority people naturally submit to.
There was a long silence while he weighed them up, and then, rubbing the back of his neck he said “Hahldorn here has been telling us why we have to say goodbye to our children. I’m not going to drag this out, boys, Emmy. You can go to Helioport if you want to. We won’t make you...but if you think it’s the right thing, you are free to go.” Emea’s Ma let out a muffled sob, and turned her head away.
“The thing is,” Seth continued, “you are fourteen now. Taurnil is already fifteen, so in just over a year all three of you will be free to do as you please anyway. We may not be happy with this, but Martha is adamant this is what must be done, and we need to trust her. Hahldorn has told us how her visions have helped the village again and again, and she has never yet been wrong. So we are going to trust you three to God, and let you go.”
The two boys and Emmy sat in stunned silence. Not a single one of them had thought it would be this easy, and Emmy hadn’t believed her Ma would let her go at all. She rushed to her feet and flung herself on her mother. “Oh Ma,” she cried, “I’ll miss you so much.” Her Da, a gentle man, rested a hand on his wife’s shoulder, a look of pained resignation on his broad face.
Taurnil hugged his Da, and then went and sat with his Ma, holding her hand. “He’s my best friend. I have to go.”
“I know, son,” Seth responded. “We’re proud of you.” His Ma drew him into a long embrace. Jonn stood behind Gaspi with his hands on his shoulders. And right there and then, the matter was settled. They were going to Helioport. They didn’t leave straight away, to give Gaspi time to get his strength back, but three days later the rising sun found Gaspi, Emea, Taurnil and Jonn standing at the border of the village, about to set foot on the winding path that many miles down the trail would join the Great South Road.
It was a tearful parting; Emea and her Ma were sobbing unrestrainedly. Her Da was more self-contained but was clearly upset at having to say goodbye to his daughter. Maria was too young to understand, looking around in confusion at her parents and big sister as they cried and embraced.
Emea picked her up and kissed her wetly on the cheek. “You be good now Maria,” she said. Maria reached out a pudgy hand and pulled on a lock of her hair, cooing uncomprehendingly. Taurnil’s Ma’s tears were expressed more quietly than Emea’s Ma’s, but were no less heartfelt for it. Gaspi felt a little awkward, anxious not to intrude on his friends’ sorrow, and he couldn’t help feeling guilty that he was the cause of this separation.
Perhaps sensing his thoughts, Seth turned to him and said “Gaspi, I want you to know we don’t hold you responsible for what destiny has decided. Taurn has chosen to go with you, but fate has chosen you all. Go with our blessing, son, and if you are going to be great, you will have great friends standing by you.”
Jonn shook hands with Seth and Emea’s Da, and when Emea’s mother finally released her daughter, the four travellers turned and stepped out onto the road. Gaspi couldn’t help the surge of heady excitement that thrummed through him, as morning lit up the landscape below. The tree line dropped away like a skirt, and thousands of feet below them many miles of plains stretched for as far as could be seen, shrouded thinly in golden mist. And through it all snaked a widening path, a great road to adventure, to magic, to destiny. Gaspi turned to look at his two friends, in whose faces he thought he could see some of that same excitement, despite the sorrow at parting from loved ones. As they walked he looked back several times, anxious for a last glimpse of life as he had always known it, but soon he could no longer see the village, quickly hidden by thick stands of trees. Turning back to face the road, his heart bursting with joy, Gaspi strode into his future.
Chapter 4
Jonn set them a good knee-jarring pace as they wound their way down the steep mountain trail. They had to attach snow grips to their shoes initially, but spring had been knocking at winter’s door for weeks already, and as they made their way down the mountain the snow thinned and eventually stopped. Gaspi was amazed that, for his village, life was still snowbound and would be for weeks to come, and yet just a few hours down the mountain there wasn’t a trace of white. If such a tiny change could bring about this remarkable transformation, how different might life be in Helioport?
At points the slope was so pronounced the trail wound back and forth in a long series of switchbacks, and very little forward progress was made, but as the day wore on they found themselves on the lower skirts of the mountain, the forest floor now carpeted in soft grasses. Jonn had them setting up camp as evening caught them, the sun-warmed air becoming chill; evidence of winter’s lingering grip. But they were well provisioned for their trip, each of them carrying a backpack with a warm, fur-lined sack to sleep in at night. They were made from the skin and fur of white foxes, and though the fur was not thick it was incredibly warm, and rolled up so tightly they were easy to carry during the day.
Jonn sent them out foraging for dry wood, which they piled up next to him as he made a small pyramid of twigs and sticks. He struck a rock hard against a flint he kept in his pack, hitting it several times before a spark fell among dry moss stuffed between the twigs, and caught into a tiny flame. Blowing gently on it, Jonn teased the flame into life, smoke streaming from the moss as it was consumed. The twigs blackened and curled at the edges and then flared into flame, and ten minutes later the fire was burning merrily, needing only a little attention every now and again to keep it from going out. Jonn had brought some dried strips of meat and some dried fruit for them to feed on, so there was no cooking tonight, and the fire was for warmth alone; but Gaspi felt they were real adventurers, living in the wilderness.
Later that night, lying beneath the stars, he gazed in wonder at the familiar sky, enthralled by a sight he had looked at all his life. Everything felt new to him, full of possibility, and a million new thoughts seemed to enter his mind at once. After an hour or so the mesmerising sway of the treetops across his view of the sky gradually quieted those exciting new thoughts, and, lying snugly in his fur sack, the gentle sound of the wind ushered Gaspi into sleep.
The next morning Gaspi awoke to find Emea and Jonn already awake, but Taurnil snored on, undisturbed by the sounds of the camp being broken. Jonn pointed out a nearby stream for Gaspi to wash in, which he did, the ice cold flow from the mountains above them causing him to gasp as he splashed himself for as long as he could bear it. Emea smirked at him when he arrived back in camp, having gone through the same ritual earlier on. To his amazement Taurnil was still asleep, so he prodded his friend’s face with his foot until he grunted and opened his eyes.
His eyes came slowly into focus on Gaspi’s foot, now hovering a couple of inches over his face, toes wriggling. “That’s not what I want to wake up to,” he mumbled, and, continuing to grunt and groan, started to lever himself out of his sack.
“Come on, you big grumpy bear,” Emmy teased. “Some of us have been up for ages!”
With muted grunting, Taurnil completed the operation of standing up, and shuffled over to the stream to wash. Emea couldn’t help laughing at him as he ambled off.
“He’s not at his best in the morning, is he?” she said.
“Not at all!” Gaspi responded with a chuckle. They had some more of the dried meat and fruit for breakfast and drank water from the stream, and after throwing dirt on the still-smouldering ash of last night’s fire, the four adventurers started the day’s hike. Jonn told them they would reach a hamlet by evening time and would stop for a proper meal and sleep in a bed, which they were all grateful for. Sleeping on the ground had seemed exciting the day before, but - carrying the bruises and stiff muscles a night on the forest floor had given them - the shine had been slightly rubbed off that once-gleaming notion. Gaspi didn’t admit it to anyone, but he secretly looked forward to a warm bed, and something to eat that hadn’t been dried weeks ago.
They travelled on easily that day, the pace steady but not too stretching, and talked about Helioport and about magic. They were getting ready to stop for lunch, when a rider emerged from the tree line in front of them. His horse was a big, hairy-footed beast, strongly marked with dark brown and cream mottling, which struck Gaspi as a little odd, as horses such as these were used for farming, not for travelling. The man on its back had the stiff movements of someone unaccustomed to riding, though he was doing his best to look comfortable.
As he neared them, he called out a greeting and pulled on the reins, stopping and climbing down from the horse. His face was too thin to be handsome, his nose long and pointed, and he had an unsavoury look about him, despite the smile that lingered on his face.
“Say, you wouldn’t happen to have any spare food for a weary traveller?” he asked, head cocked on one side.
“Where are you from, stranger?” Jonn asked, and Gaspi was surprised to hear a hard undertone in Jonn’s voice.
“Oh, from the north, a long way from here. You wouldn’t have heard of it.”
“Well, I’m sorry to say we don’t have any spare food. Just enough rations to get us to the next way station,” Jonn replied, which Gaspi knew to be a lie. All three young adults stayed silent, sensing something was wrong, but not being experienced enough to know what it was.
“Well, me and my friends are hungry, and I’m not sure I believe you,” the stranger replied, his tone suddenly aggressive. The thin veneer of friendliness vanished like smoke, and as he spoke two scruffy-looking men moved out from the trees and walked towards them.
“We don’t want any trouble,” Jonn said, placing his walking staff squarely in front of him, his strong hands set apart and curling firmly around it in a familiar manner.
“Trouble is what you’ll have if you don’t give us your food; and while you‘re at it, you may as well give us your money too,” the stranger replied loudly, his voice cracking at one point, his face twisted by a look of greed.