Silverstone Part One: Through Dark Waters (6 page)

At the rear of the great
shelter, Ben noted a tent that had been mostly hidden by the large
assembly area, and which was slightly smaller than the others
around the camp. There was a small flag atop it, showing a yellow
plough and sickle on a green background.

Ivor ushered Ben towards the
little tent. “Let’s see what Alder makes of you then, young
Silverstone! In you go!”

The crowd massed behind them,
and began to take up seats in the shelter. The whole camp had come
to see just what this Alder made of Ben, and that made Ben
exceedingly nervous.

Ben walked cautiously towards
the tent and looked for the way in. He felt at the fabric, noticing
how smooth and oily it felt. There was no door though. What was he
supposed to do?

There was a chuckle behind him.
“Around the other side my friend!” Ivor grinned.

Ben tracked around, and finally
found a break in the oily cloth wall. He carefully pulled it aside
and immediately caught the aroma of stewing meat. He was starving,
he realised, as he stepped inside.

For a moment, Ben crouched
still. He let his eyes adjust and took in his surroundings.

The floor of the tent was
covered with a similar fabric to the walls, but was coloured almost
black so that it looked as if the vibrant rugs and cushions
adorning it floated like oddly shaped planets in the night sky. In
the centre of the space, on a lopsided little table, a metal lamp
threw out some light. Alongside the table a bed of red-hot coals
stood in a metal basket, and over it a rusted tin saucepan hung,
from which the stewy smells wafted. Ben stared at the bubbling pan,
his mouth watering.

“Are you hungry?” A voice came
from the shadows beyond the stew, and Ben looked up to find it.

On the far side of the little
tent, sitting on a cushion, sat an old man. He looked at Ben calmly
from the shadow. He wore a loosely fitting garment similar to the
shirt Ben had taken from the boat, over trousers of the same
material. A leathery book was in his hand, and he put it to one
side. His hair was white and short.

“You should know that my stew
is the very best in the village. Even better than Yelena, and she
has quite a following!” He chuckled. “Of course, some say her stew
contains only the rats she finds around the camp. I myself once
found a rat tail in one of her servings last Harvest Fair, and
since that day I have always avoided it, though there are those who
find it tasty, rat or not.

“Do you think they simply are
unaware that Yelena’s stew contains rats, and would never eat it if
they knew the awful truth, or that they are secretly well aware of
the rats and enjoy them, but would always guiltily deny that is
their preference, or perhaps even that they simply like the rats,
and do not mind who knows that is their taste?”

Ben smiled. “Well if it was me,
I would definitely not eat it knowing it contained rats. But if
someone actually really likes rat stew, then I suppose that’s ok.
At least it takes care of any rats about the camp!”

The man laughed loudly. He was
larger than Ben had first realised, and the loose shirt did not
conceal the roll of his big belly as he laughed. He reminded Ben of
a happy Buddha statue.

“Come then my young friend,
have some of my stew, which I assure you contains no rats
whatsoever.”

He pulled a bowl from beside
the coals, and spooned several large servings into it. He held out
his hand, and Ben took the stew, and sat down on the floor near
him.

Ben waited for a moment, unsure
whether it was customary or polite to say something before eating
in this camp, but when his host motioned to Ben’s bowl, he dived
in.

Almost drowning, and sword
fighting created an appetite, and the stew was warming and
delicious after the cold. He would have to ask his mother to make
some for the wintry days when he got back home.

When he had finished, Ben
looked up and found the man studying him keenly. He had obviously
already eaten. “So my hungry friend. What is your name?”

“Silverstone,” Ben answered
quickly, eyeing the tin saucepan for the chance of seconds.

“Hmm. That is a well-chosen
name. My name is Alder.” He smiled.

“Liam, who is our captain and
defender, has told me of your great courage during the attack on
our camp. He also says you were found swimming in the lake.”

He studied Ben for a few
moments more before going on. “I am considered the sage of our
people. They look to me for guidance and knowledge in most things
with which they are unfamiliar. Of late that is more regular I must
say.”

He paused again, and looked
directly at Ben, who shifted uncomfortably. “You, young
Silverstone, are unfamiliar to us. And so today I must judge
whether you are true friend or foe; whether you are to be welcomed
and aided or...” His smile had disappeared.

Ben gulped. This was a trial
and judgement. He wasn’t sure what to say. “What do you mean?”

“Let’s start with your origins.
What people do you belong to?”

“Erm. Well I am from Hulstead,
in London. So I suppose I belong to those peoples.”

“Hulstead is not a land I am
familiar with, and I am familiar with all the lands from here to
Chasisi at the foot of the Amyntas. Most lands in all the Western
Realms even.” Alder’s face darkened further. “And I do not believe
you are from beyond the Amyntas Mountains, are you?”

Ben considered how to respond.
It didn’t sound like being from beyond the Amyntas Mountains was a
very good thing, and if he wasn’t careful he was going to find
himself in even more trouble than he was already in.

“Look,” he started, “I’ll be
completely honest with you, but I need to know I can trust you to”
- he looked Alder in the eyes - “to not hurt me.”

Alder’s eyes softened a little.
“The laws of Norchand state that a man who fights alongside us in
battle is to be given all the rights of a citizen. I see no crime
to judge you guilty of under the laws of Norchand as yet
Silverstone, so unless you are about to tell me you are a murderer
seeking refuge from good King Elmer’s judgement, I see no reason
you will be harmed in our camp.”

Ben wasn’t sure about this.

Alder continued. “Besides, you
have shared my stew, and so I give you my word, no harm will come
to you from anything you speak here now, if it be the truth.”

Ben smiled weakly. There wasn’t
much of a choice.

“Ok, so I am just a schoolkid…”
he began.

“I’m sorry?” Alder frowned.

“A student, at a school, where
children learn”

“Ah, like a city academy, go
on.”

“Well my academy is in the land
of Hulstead. Hulstead is not beyond any mountains. Well maybe it
is, I don’t really know where it is from here. But I am beginning
to think it is a very long way somewhere else. I’m not sure how I
got here from there exactly, but I do remember swimming in a pool
at the academy, and there was something very odd about this
particular pool, and during a lesson it sort of sucked me down
under the water and then spat me out again here. On that lake.” He
pointed in the direction of the lake.

Alder listened intently.

Ben went on. “When I came out
on top of the water again, I found myself right in front of Liam
and his row boat.

“I really have to get home. My
parents will be having a heart attack!”

“A heart….?”

“They’ll be very, very
worried,” Ben quickly clarified.

“I see.” Alder rubbed his chin
quietly for a moment, and Ben began to worry he was about to be
sent out to the mob to be hung.

“Please. I’m just an academy
student, and I just want to get home,” Ben pleaded, almost in
tears. “Can you help me?”

Alder squinted at Ben. He
looked him up and down, and then side to side, examining him like a
piece of meat for his stew. “I think you are a friend, Silverstone.
At least for now.”

Ben kept quiet.

“And I believe your story.

“Let me tell you something of
these lands you have found yourself in.” He adjusted his seat, as
if about to recount a long tale.

Ben waited patiently.

When Alder was comfortable, he
began. “We are a wandering farmspeople, called the Peregrine after
our first leader. Long ago we landtended happily in the lands of
King Elmer, a few weeks’ journey to the north from here. But after
the great plague we journeyed from there in search of fresh
lands.

“Elmer rules from the beautiful
city of Norchand. He is a good king. He does not curry favour with
the mages like the rulers of Chasisi, Murdimore and the other
cities; he seeks only what is right for his people, and rules them
fairly. Once in a while his taxmen come to us, but they ask for a
fair tribute, and in return we have refuge behind his city walls if
we should need it.” He stopped to stir the stew.

“But the mages are becoming
more and more powerful, and a great war between them will soon
come, spilling over into the lands and forcing all people to choose
their sides. The storms come more and more now, and the lands
become more barren as they cast their spells and experiment. It is
an omen of the doom to come I think.” He looked at the ground.

“The mages are outsiders;
magicians; devil charmers. They came into this land from another,
through great gateways between their worlds and ours. I do not know
why they come. I do not know whether they come from the lands
beyond the Amyntas, or from somewhere else. I do not know how many
there are, trespassing unseen in our lands. But there are five who
have risen to power above all the others. These five exist outside
our laws, outside our societies. They do as they please because
they have the power to crush armies with a single spell.” His face
was fixed in deep creases.

“It is only the balance of
power between the five that prevents one from dominance, as none
will allow another to assert his power over the lands. But all the
while they secretly study, building up their might until one can
overcome the others and rule this world completely.” He had become
more animated as he spoke, and slightly breathless now.

“But all of them once came to
us, as you have just done, Silverstone, through a gateway. All are
foreign in our lands, as you are.” He looked hard at Ben. “I do not
know how they learned their spells, if they did not bring them.
Perhaps each was taught by another. But I expect in time, that you
will find that outsider magic also. And when that time comes, you
may become a friend no longer.”

“I am not a mage,” Ben
protested. “There’s no such thing as magic anyway. And I told you;
I just want to get home to my family. As soon as I find another one
of those gateways that is open I will go back through it and you’ll
never see me again.

“Not that I didn’t really enjoy
the stew. It was delicious.”

“Hmph,” Alder chortled. “The
gateways are a greater mystery than even the magicians who came
through them. Unless you have a spell to open them, I don’t know
how they are used. It seems there is one within the lake, but I
would not swim around in it trying to find it if I were you. There
are strange creatures within the water there, and people tell of
old ruins and ghosts beneath the surface. No, I think you are stuck
with us for now, my young friend.”

Ben became angry. “I am not
stuck here. I can’t just forget everything back home!”

“I understand. But I cannot
help you. I am just a farmer. Wisest, some say, of the Peregrine
people, but wise enough to know that we are not such a greatly wise
people. There are many in the realm that are a great deal wiser
than I.

“But do not lose hope. The good
King Elmer has great knowledge, and would no doubt help you. I have
heard tales of some folk disappearing from our lands also, perhaps
to journey to others. And perhaps some of the mages themselves have
come and returned to your world. Who is to say what is possible
with their spells after all. Perhaps one can open the gateway in
the lake for you even.”

“Yes, yes that’s it. I need to
find the mages, and ask for their help getting home.”

Alder paused, rubbing his chin
again. Ben began to eye the stew.

At last he spoke. “I will help
you of course, if that is your choice. We cannot stand in the way
of the great tide.

“But I advise you to first seek
the counsel of King Elmer, before revealing yourself to a mage. The
magicians always search for superiority over one another and I fear
whichever you reach first may try to use you for his own ends.”

“I will be careful then. But I
have to go. I must find a way home to my family and if that is my
best chance, then I’ll take it.” Ben felt suddenly strong again, as
he had before in the midst of the battle.

Alder rose, and gripped Ben’s
shoulder. “Very well young warrior Silverstone, your path is set,
and I will send you on your way with ample provisions from the
grateful Peregrine. But first and foremost you must rest with us
here a few days, and allow your injury to heal.” He pointed to
Ben’s arm. “Besides, the people will want to greet you as a new
friend is always greeted; with good Peregrine stew and vol, and
plenty of dancing with the young girls if you are lucky!” He
laughed heartily.

Ben stood up eagerly at the
mention of more food and drink, and followed Alder as he walked out
of the little tent. They moved back around to the central shelter,
and Ben’s stomach jumped again at the sight of so many people
massed in front of him.

The crowd fell silent as they
approached. The tension was as thick in the air as the smell of
stew cooking.

Sensing Ben’s hesitation, Alder
slowed and walked beside him.

They entered the shelter and
stood beside the central fire. The skies had darkened as night
fell, and the light of the flames illuminated them for the crowd
like a golden spotlight.