Enchantress Awakening: Part One of the Book of Water (The Elemental Cycle 1) (23 page)

“No but...Sister Agnes, will be looking for me. You should go, mayhap we can talk anon.”

“Rhiannon, tonight the Oracle has departed and cannot know what is afoot. If I know my friends, Sister Agnes will not get near you. Tonight you are free.” Caleigh drew Rhiannon out into the centre of the pool. “Have you ever paddled free?” Rhiannon shook her head. “Now you can.” The serving girl smiled and let herself stretch out on the surface of the water then turned for a few strokes one way then the other.

Their playful paddle was brought to an end at last by a fearful shadow moving about the edge of the room. Where all had been in half-light; one corner stood in complete darkness. Caleigh moved to the steps and guided Rhiannon behind her back, holding out her wand in anticipation. The shadow withdrew and in its place stood Vaughn and Rosamund, the latter holding Caleigh’s dress. “Forgive us the intrusion but the winery is near closing and once it does our going might be more noted.” Vaughn explained. “I’ll give you some privacy.” He said turning his back on them and sauntering over to the doorway. Caleigh and Rhiannon stepped out of the water,

“Worry not; we are ready to leave, are we not?” She put to Rhiannon.

“What about Sister Agnes and Rolf?”

“They will be most annoyed when they wake in the morn. Better not to be here when they do.” Vaughn informed.

“Will you trust us?” Caleigh asked and then with a smile ran her wand along Rhiannon’s arm. The sheen of water that covered her body and Caleigh’s turned to steam where they stood leaving both of them dry enough to dress without concern. All the while Caleigh watched her, reading in her the fear of reprisal and the fear of the unknown. Even an unhappy certainty could often feel more attractive than an uncertainty. She knew that if she used her powers to full effect she could easily compel the girl to come. From a sense of right she could justify this. Overriding her fears now for a better future would be in her best interest. Nonetheless, this was something she would not do. She would charm, entice and encourage for all she might. To give heart was one thing: to forcibly change it was quite another. Rhiannon finished adjusting her dress and turned to Caleigh.

“I hardly know you and have little reason to trust you save that you have shown me more kindness tonight than I have ever felt here. I have seen a glimpse of a good heart and that seems better to me than knowing all of a bad one.” Caleigh kissed her on the cheek.

“I hope I can prove worthy such kind words.”

23. The Trail of the Dead

A miniature image of Sister Agnes went about the corridors of the bath house of Minerva, turning this way and that in confusion. As much as Caleigh tried to picture her she could not summon a like image of the Oracle. “Will they come after Rhiannon?”

“I think not.” Tovrik answered. “Even if they know whence she went the name Elevered holds some power. They will know she is under our protection now.” There was something weary in his tone and it did not go unnoticed.

“Something troubles you about this? Did I err?”

“No far from it. I think you did remarkably well and, what is more, you did right. I am troubled by this crone who calls herself an oracle. I fear what would have happened had you confronted her directly.”

“Is she very powerful?”

“That depends on what you mean by that. From all you have told me of your encounter with her I would guess she has far less talent than you. On the other hand, she is old and has had many years to hone her craft. As long as a wizard has a grip on their mind they will continue to gain in power, assuming they continue to study and practice their art.”

“Do you know who this crone is?”

“I know not her name or her history. I strongly suspect she is a member of the Coven.” Tovrik sighed.

“What is wrong?”

“We have reached a point where we seem to be following in the trail of the dead. The fall of the Kingdom still touches everything we do.”

“Then it is time I knew how that story ended, I think. Why did the Kingdom fail?” Tovrik thought long before giving replying.

“The short answer would be that men grew to love things more than the Kingdom itself, for Albion it was Gwenythar, for the knightly orders it was the Vessel of Life and their sense of honour and for the nobles it was personal ambition.”

“They said at the temple of Minerva that the Vessel of Life was first filled from their spring, yet in my vision it seemed rather that the Vessel was emptied into the spring.”

“The Vessel of Life was created by Loreliath and Argahan to heal the western lands after the great cataclysm that ended with the fall of Xyraxis. The waters of the vessel come direct from the otherworld. What you saw is more likely true than the priestesses’ version. Loreliath and Argahan may well have purified the spring waters there. The legends of the spring were told long before the Senatians built Minerva there. It was for that very reason that they did so. After Argahan betrayed Loreliath he kept the vessel to himself for many hundreds of years until he gifted to the Danarians as a reward for their loyalty. No doubt, possession of this artefact aided the Danarians in maintaining their independence from the Senatian Empire. Argahan must have been furious when they surrendered it to Albion.

If you remember our last talk on this I said this was the high point of the Kingdom and thus it was. The greater part of all the Western Lands were united by conscience and for a time there was peace unknown afore. Best of all, we had the Vessel of Life to drive ailments and harm from our people. The knightly orders took protection of the Vessel to heart, particularly the Knights of the Blessed Maiden, to such an extent that a new order was created solely to protect the Vessel as it went about the Kingdom doing its work.

When war returned to our lands, it was not to the Kingdom of Albion but to our allies to the north, the kin of our Queen Gwenythar. So Albion went with only his personal retinue to protect them. While Albion was away in the north there was an outbreak of plague in the southern provinces. Without the King to authorise it, the knightly orders refused to send the Vessel south to heal the damage done. Protesters came to the temple of the Vesselars, or so the protectors of the Vessel were known, in Lakehaven. Angry and desperate the mob was close to bloodshed when Ranevark came before them. As you know, Ranevark was a great Enchanter and his words and charm was enough to placate the protesters and hold them at bay for a day. That night assassins struck at Ranevark’s home and, powerful and sharp of mind as he was, they murdered him.”

“Were these assassins with the protesters?”

“No. Assassins of that kind only ever serve the Society of Shadows.”

“Who are they?”

“You remember time ago I mentioned that there are some who desire the rise of the Beast. Such are they. Even today little is known of how their society operates or by whom they are supported. Yet of all our enemies they are the most effective wizard slayers.” A memory of an earlier vision was triggered in Caleigh’s mind.

“They used to serve Xyraxis.” The black clad figures striking from the darkness and butchering a group of wizards played before her mind’s eye. “Warriors fared better against them than the wizards”

“There are times when a strong arm can outdo a brilliant mind. Ranevark fared as well as any wizard might. There were traces of perhaps a dozen slain attackers. He fought well.” Tovrik wandered over to the standing map and drew the focus towards the great city of Lakehaven. On the god’s eye a vast scattering of buildings appeared either side of a broad crossing. At either end of the lake the cliffs rose high allowing for bridging points. Otherwise, one side or another was reached by one of the numerous ferries and ships speckled across the water. “Without Ranevark there to reason with them the protesters were stirred into violent revolt. Again, I believe this was the work of the Society of Shadows. In the confusion the Vesselars guarding the treasure were slain and the Vessel of Life was stolen.”

“Why do you say this was the work of the Society of Shadows when the protesters were so desperate? Could they not have murdered the guards?”

“I have no doubt they dressed as the protesters but those who murdered those guards did so with a precision rarely found from angry mobs. In any case the Vessel of Life was swiftly spirited deep into the southern provinces to heal the damage wrought there. Mayhap they were better served by the plague than by this act for as soon as word of the deed was known all the knightly orders of Helmgard declared war on the thieves and fell upon the southern provinces with great fury in their attempt to regain what was lost. They slew where they went and each time they drew near the Vessel was moved on, always out of reach until all the southern provinces had felt their vengeful sword to no end.”

“Why did Albion not stop this?”

“Albion was, at the time, far in the north laid low with sickness. By the time any news even came by his ears much blood had already been spilt. More was to come too. Bare weeks had passed since the fall of Ranevark when the news was heard that Benifran had been killed too, trying to maintain peace with the Danarians. Perhaps this was Argahan’s revenge and he could not have chosen a better time for it. All the knightly orders were away to the south, Albion was stuck in the north and it was left to the nobles of the land to fight off a new Danarian invasion without the support on which they had come to depend. Then it was that a rumour reached Helmgard that Albion had passed. The nobles panicked and a young, ambitious one of their number named Benoc convinced the others the Kingdom could only survive if it united around a new King, himself. He acted swiftly and imprisoned Gwenythar and attempted to do likewise with her children. Sadly, Gwenythar did not know that Caerddyn had saved her children and taken them here, to Elevered. In her ignorance she agreed to wed Benoc on condition that he vowed to spare them.”

“Albion knew nothing of this.”

“Alas no, he was not idle however and while the nobles fought to defend Helmgard from the Danarians, Albion came upon their rearguard, severing lines of supply and burning their ships so that no more could come. If he had come through Elevered much might have been saved. Instead he hastened to meet his noble allies. Realising he was doomed if ever word of Albion’s return reached Helmgard, Benoc went to his King in pretence of greeting only to ambush him the moment he made camp. This ill turn was complete in its failure. Albion though mortally wounded, managed to escape with a company of his trusted knights and with them went word of all that had happened.”

“So people found out about Benoc’s treachery? What of Albion, did he die there?”

“Yes to both. Albion had his body sent downstream to Lake Nimenorn where first he had perceived Loreliath. So passed the greatest of us; our greatest hope and our greatest loss, worth more by his vision, fairness and fortitude than any number of sacred Vessels.” Tovrik breathed heavily and leaned on his staff for support, weighed down by the emotion of the telling. “Ranevark, Benifran and Albion died within two months of each other. That is how long it took to undo the Kingdom ten years in the creation.”

“There was still Caerddyn and Albion’s children. Could not the Kingdom have survived through them?”

“They tried. Word spread of Benoc’s treachery and Albion’s death reaching the knightly orders who returned in great rage. Few stood by Benoc’s side when they came for him and few mourned or felt pity when his head was displayed above the gates of Helmgard.”

“Do you feel pity for him?”

“His betrayal of Albion was unforgiveable. I pity him for the desperation that led him to make his ill choices. No doubt if he’d known Albion was not dead he would have acted differently and then mayhap we would count him among the heroes of that time.”

“He could have stepped back. He did not need to keep going after one mistake was made.”

“Men find that most difficult. Could he trust Albion to be merciful to a man who had forced himself on his wife and threatened his children?”

“He should have stopped long before that.”

“I quite agree with you. Nevertheless, what had been set in motion could not be undone. Not merely with Albion. The knightly orders were changed. Where Albion could command over ten thousand men on horse his son, Culwich, had only a royal guard and the Secret Keepers to protect Helmgard.”

“I never heard tale of Albion’s son as a child. Was he a bad king?”

“No, he was merely young. He ruled for ten blameless years and wed a charming princess, Olwen. They had a child and hopes were raised for a restoration of all that was lost. Here at last we come to the matter of our tale, though I have come to this point as briefly as I might. Ranevark, Benifran and Caerddyn all supported the kingdom; they were not the only wizards though. Another group, the Coven, believed that magic should be used without restraint and that the gifted were not answerable to the mundane. During Albion’s reign they were driven from the Kingdom and, I believe, found refuge with Argahan through whose arts they survived beyond their normal span.”

“You think the Oracle is one of them?”

“I do and I believe she was not so different then from the crone you encountered.”

“But this was nearly fifty years ago, that would make her over a hundred years old.”

“Wizards have their ways of defying time. Remember the Coven now serve Argahan who is himself over a thousand years old. I digress from the tale, the Coven murdered Culwich, Olwen and their infant son. In this they precipitated all the persecution of wizard kind we have felt for the last five decades. Even in Helmgard the great library was set alight burning countless tomes and scrolls and, ultimately, the whole citadel.”

“At least Caerddyn preserved some lore here.”

“Yes, it was fortunate that not everything was stored in the same place.”

“What of Caerddyn? His death is never mentioned.”

“Ahh, well there are two common theories. The first is that the fall of the Kingdom broke him and he died a quiet, weary death away from the ills of the world.”

“And the second?”

“That he too was killed by the Coven. Ambushed in the very woods you passed through on your way hither and dragged into the body of a tree where even to this day you can hear his lament should you pass a particularly wizened and dark yew.” Tovrik smiled indulgently. “Which do you believe?”

“Neither.” Caleigh said evenly.

“Why so?” Tovrik asked in surprise.

“I believe he was attacked. From all you describe the Coven would want him dead. And I believe that Caerddyn may have felt...how to say...removed? After the fall of all he held dear. So I can imagine he could use the attack as a cover to make people think he had died and in that time find some peace apart from the affairs of Kings.”

“And thus he still wanders?”

“No, he was touched by Loreliath and he had to believe that she would appear again someday. So he would travel under a different name waiting for a sign that she still had the power to reach us.”

“A faked death, a change of name, you suppose much subterfuge.”

“What is that?”

“I mean you suppose Caerddyn going to great lengths to deceive people about his real purpose.”

“I do.”

“Why do you do so?”

“All illusions are set to deceive and Caerddyn was the greatest illusionist of his day; as are you still.” Caleigh finished with a bold smile. Tovrik face split in a mixture of disbelief and laughter. 

“That is a theory not oft heard.” Tovrik shook his head and chuckled. “I must confess I never expected such an unravelling from a girl barely reached womanhood.”

“You led me there; you set the clues upon the path.”

“I did not expect you to meet the destination quite so soon.”