Jadde - The Fragile Sanctuary (15 page)

After Seara had checked her patients she left
to return to her father, leaving Malkrin to sit with the Wolf Chief and share Wolf
Clan food. They had barely begun when a warrior acting as a token guard warned
of an approaching Brightwater Officer.

Bevin Talgour the Senate official
approached Malkrin and the Wolf Chief. ‘Forgive my intrusion friends, but on
behalf of my Senate, may I take this opportunity to join you and learn more of
the approaching horde?’

Malkrin and the Wolf Chief performed the universal
greeting sign then nodded. The chief pointed to a spare fur-cape spread on the
ground and indicated a warrior fetch Talgour refreshment. The Brightwater
official thanked him then sat down and joined Malkrin in consuming the food
washed down with herb scented liquor.

The Wolf Chief turned to Malkrin.

‘I Dayal BerantWolf leader of the Wolf Clan
believe you are not of the Brightwater people. Having observed you this day, I now
know from where you and your kinswoman hail.’

Malkrin nodded, wondering how much
BerantWolf had surmised.

‘But you do not behave as others of your
secluded tribe do.’

‘Tell me how you have gained this knowledge
then I will tell you our story.’

‘Your Goddess-blessed healer has powers of
the mind. These abilities are known to have been mastered by the strange people
inhabiting the sacred Monthorn Mountains. This tribe have always jealously
guarded their lands. They have been misinformed by their Gods into believing
only horror lies in the domains beyond them. They fear to leave their fertile
valleys. Am I not correct?’

‘Some of us have had our prejudices
cleansed since leaving our homeland.’

The Wolf Chief roared in triumph, ‘
I
knew I was right
. By the Great-Wolf – the horrors I have seen have not left
demons in my head.
You are Seconchane!’

Malkrin allowed a brief smile, ‘I am
pleased you were not permanently disturbed great BerantWolf. Tell me why your
people have always raided my people’s borders and then I will tell you our
story?’

‘It is a good bargain.’ The Chief turned to
Talgour, ‘have patience Bevin Talgour. You in Brightwater have long known of our
sacred journey.’

BerantWolf adjusted the fur cloak wrapped around
him and looked directly at Malkrin. ‘We are a travelling people for three of
the four seasons. We only rest in solid dwellings for the winter cold. Many
lifetimes ago, before even the great tales were told, the gods decreed our
ancestors had a sacred route to follow. At that time Great-Wolf decreed the
road would pass through the Seconchane's lands. It was to follow a hallowed
route past the Rainbow Waterfalls then up the Mountains of Respite to circle
like the flight of the albatross past the Crystal Lake. Then the road would
travel along two passes and through the great Wood of Drondor back down to our
winter sojourn. It has always been a certainty that if we complete the circle
then Great-Wolf will be satiated and he will gather us ample food for cold
winters. He will bless us with many children and allow our tired legs to
continue with renewed vigour.

But for many generations we have not been able
to complete this journey. Never do we feel contented, rarely do our bellies
feel full, rarely can we provide for our youngsters and elderly. We are forever
saddened and our lives flounder. The spirits of the dead do not soar as they
should along the sacred route. They do not accompany us and we are saddened. The
long winter nights are filled with Great-Wolfs howling.’

Malkrin highsensed truth and torment in
BerantWolf’s account. ‘Forgive my ignorance Chief BerantWolf;
you have
scriptures saying this particular route is your tribe’s sacred duty?’
Malkrin felt the dawn of understanding the like of which no other Seconchane
had ever had. He presumed the Brenna or priesthood hadn’t kept the verity to
themselves.

Dayal BerantWolf stared at Malkrin without
malice. ‘We have never been able to discuss our sacred route with your tribe. But
these are desperate times and I observe sincerity in both you and your young
companion. I hope now for your understanding. In answer to your question
Seconchane Malkrin – you are half correct; we have no scriptures only the great
story-songs. They are recounted accurately from grandfather to grandson. And so
it has always been.’

‘This explains why my people believed you intended
to invade us,’ Malkrin added with understanding. ‘Our masters have always wrongly
preached that you coveted our prosperous lands.’

The Wolf Chief’s face reddened with
suppressed anger, he stabbed a finger. ‘We have been wronged and it is a curse
you must lift. It is in our sacred songs that the journey was given us by the
great Goddess Jadde-Wolf, for us to continue regardless of sickness or famine.
Our people take great pride in teaching her words to our children by relaying
the Jadde-Wolf songs and stories exactly as we in turn were taught by our
fathers. It is our hallowed duty to memorise these accounts; and act on them.’ BerantWolf’s
voice changed to a hiss,’ but your people have never allowed us to pass. Some
of our warriors are obstinate and follow the exact word and will
never give
up
trying to enter your land and fulfil the sacred route.’

‘I must ask, why continue such an arduous trek?
I have seen the lands between the Brightwater and my Cyprusnia and there is
game to be caught, wild fruit to be eaten and wild corn, rye and wheat to be
nurtured into great fields to feed your people.’

Dayal BerantWolf sighed with a lifetime of
frustration. ‘But that would involve interrupting the sacred journey and that
is only permitted in winter.’ 

Malkrin thought of the Wolf people’s reliance
on ingrained tradition. They had been inflicted with a blind observance to a
dogma that stopped them from settling and prospering. He was saddened by the
whole revelation and lapsed into thinking of the generations of distrust and
misunderstood conflict.

All three men silently mulled over the traditional
hostility, from their viewpoints. Finally Talgour spoke.

‘Our tribes must be as brothers to prevail
in the ordeal to come. I must negotiate an agreement between you.’

Malkrin and Chief BerantWolf nodded
cautiously.

‘I must first tell of my current status,’
Malkrin began, ‘after which you may refuse to deal with me or my companions.’

BerantWolf nodded, his curiosity aroused.
Talgour also agreed although he already knew Malkrin’s account.

‘I was leader of the hunt until . . .’ Malkrin
told of his unpredictable highsense talents, then the iron rule of the Brenna, the
subversion of the priesthood and of his punishment and finally of his, Halle’s
and Seara’s adventures.

Dayal BerantWolf listened attentively then
at the end he added more wood to the fire, deep in thought. Finally as if
having read and sifted the Seconchane’s priesthood and the Brightwater people’s
entire scripture libraries he came to a decision.

‘Your tale has the bright sound of truth.
You will become great in your tribe although you at present have been wronged.’

He paused and Malkrin sensed him coming to
a momentous decision.

Malkrin and Talgour looked into the
flickering fire, waiting for BerantWolf’s revelation. Finally the chief spoke
clearly and decisively.

‘I believe my people must temporarily
abandon the sacred route. Great-Wolf will not return and release the Goddess
Jadde-Wolf from her imprisonment in the Crystal Lake. She will not come from
there to defeat the demon legions – we must do this ourselves. The approaching hordes
will allow us little other choice, for they are advancing to consume us all.’

His voice rose with the power of certainty.
‘It will be my people’s and the Seconchane’s and the Brightwater brethren’s final
chance.’

Talgour spoke passionately. ‘This is a
brave decision – I know the Senate will concur. Together we will all prevail;
separately we will all be destroyed.’

‘Indeed, I also agree,’ Malkrin added
thinking of the captured demon, the plight of Bulwan and his Skatheln and the
dire warnings of the Brightwater Senate
.

BerantWolf looked as if a great burden had
lifted and a determined resolve entered his eyes. Malkrin reassessed the chief;
he was not as ingrained in tradition as he had feared. But would his Wolf people
be as flexible? BerantWolf had a huge task ahead just to win them over.

‘I am gladdened we are agreed to act as
one,’ Malkrin said. ‘But I must persuade our priesthood and our Brenna rulers to
give up generations of deeply seated prejudice. And once our mutual ordeal is
over they must be persuaded to allow the Wolf people to journey through
Cyprusnia.’

Under the bright stars Malkrin thought of
all that had been said. But there was another journey to travel before he dared
return to Cyprusnia. He had to observe the hideous black tide with his own
eyes. For how could he hope to persuade the Brenna and the priesthood if he had
not seen the malevolent swarm for himself? It would take the greatest of
persuasion to even convince the Brenna to listen. But to enable him to try he
must first assess their enemy. And during that journey he must also find the
three-sun travellers.

There was one more story to tell before
plans could be laid, the information was vital. ‘Tell us of your capture of the
black demon, Chief BerantWolf.’

The Wolf-chief sunk once again into his
furs, his face tightened and his eyes looked into a great void.

‘It is both a long and a short story. We
lost twelve brave warriors and slew only three of the demons. This is how we
met them in battle.’ Chief BerantWolf’s eyes looked deep into the fire as he
began the account. ‘My people were on the very furthest part of the sacred
route from Brightwater; where the great grass plain meets the seared mountains
and the plain of glass. In the distance the great glowing mountain of Thorian
stood from the plain like a Goddesses’ breast. It had always been barren and even
from our great distance away it shone at night with an evil light. Now, in my lifetime
the glow has faded to nothing, moonlight now lights it normally. Rain has also returned
to it and covered the great mountain top in snow and allowed the lower slopes to
grow purple grass.

But our latest journey to this point has shown
the distant view transformed with evil. We saw a black flood of vile creatures
rolling down the slopes and where they had passed over the purple grass the
land behind was again barren. I realised we were witnessing the beginning of a
spreading scourge.

I called a halt to the sacred journey, took
three warriors to a distant high rock and from there saw distant demon hordes
swarming in columns on the glass plains. The creatures had ravished the lands
beyond and were entering the vast purple pastures on this side of the mountain.
We watched for four days and the scorching horde trickled ever nearer. The
black stain sent out occasional black dots before them and from our great
distance the nearest four dots became a scouting party of four demons. I
decreed the creatures be intercepted and caught for they may provide food both for
the body and for the mind. I handpicked seven hands of brave warriors and
ordered my people to continue the sacred journey at unprecedented speed without
us.

The battle was vast; eventually we killed
three and captured this one. Twenty sunsets later we met the point of the
sacred route nearest the Brightwater lands. I brought the creature to you in
the hope of seeking the coalition we have agreed this evening.’

It was a hideous story. Malkrin could only
admire the fortitude of Chief BerantWolf and his warriors for what they’d seen
and endured. He dwelled for many breaths on the determination of BerantWolf to
break from his sacred journey to bring them the demon. He could see that
Talgour was doing the same.

The moon had travelled far through the
night sky when the three men finished planning for the new expedition. BerantWolf
and his six best warriors would accompany Malkrin, Halle and Bevin Talgour on a
reconnaissance for the Brightwater tribe and Malkrin to observe the menace.
They would also detour to warn other tribes near the demons’ route. Overall the
journey would provide invaluable information and assess how to combat the
scourge. Perhaps if fortune favoured them they would also discover potential
weaknesses in the demons or in their fighting preferences and maybe solve the
mystery of his three-sun pursuers. For Malkrin and Halle it would be a journey
within a journey.

Malkrin wondered if BerantWolf would choose
the Wolf warrior with intense blue eyes and greased plaits. He feared he would
have to watch for enemies much closer than the evil horde.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

F
our days later Malkrin, Halle and their new
companions bade farewell to Seara, the Senate and the Brightwater people. With
them was Eighth of the Senate once the Brightwater’s greatest hunter, but now
past his prime. He and Talgour represented their people and would confirm the demon
hordes’ progress for the Senate. Seventeen Wolf warriors stayed behind to guard
the rabid quarter-man and of the six accompanying the reconnaissance party one
constantly stared at Malkrin with eyes of fire.

Not only was it a Brightwater tradition to
welcome people along the Lighthouse Bridge, but it was also custom to wish them
a farewell in the same manner. The people threw rose petals at the party for this
was a token of favourable luck for a good journey.

 At the far end of the bridge Halle left
the party briefly to kiss Seara goodbye. Malkrin hesitated and did the same. Seara
handed them each a lucky charm, it was a corn dolly woven around a sparkling
yellow marble from the glass workshops. Malkrin kissed it and put it safely in
his goatskin backpack. Momentary guilt washed over him as if he were betraying
his beloved Cabryce by accepting the gift. He turned abruptly from Seara wishing
he knew how his wife was fairing.

He rejoined the party without looking back.

Inevitably his thoughts returned to
immediate danger. He could not relax whilst one of his Wolf warrior allies held
a grudge against him. Malkrin felt the waves of animosity beat against his
highsense. He signed mentally to tune it out, but left a background alert
within his mind should the waves of hatred sharpen to a surprise attack. He
would have to confront the man shortly. An enemy in such close proximity was
not the best way to begin an important reconnaissance. Their first stop would
be the Wolf people’s encampment. Malkrin hoped that the grievance filled warrior
would then stay behind with his people.

Slowly the hot sun rose and scorched them
as they ran. Malkrin and Halle kept up with the arduous pace but in the midday
heat Eighth-of-Senate and Talgour began to gasp in ragged heaves then stumble, forcing
BerantWolf to slow the pace.

At last in the cooling evening, the scent
of wood smoke and cooking food registered on Malkrin’s senses, indicating the Wolf
tribes close proximity. Minutes later an encampment emerged through dense
woodland. A huge conglomeration of flapping fabric and waving banners formed a camp
beside a fast flowing brook. Behind the assembly a dense wood of ancient oak
and spruce trees shielded the camp. To another side a wild orchard of apple and
pear trees provided a ready food supply that young children enthusiastically
harvested. The tents were laid out in a vast temporary village, beside each
stood a sturdy wooden wheeled cart. Malkrin surmised they held the tents and
belongings of the occupants during their endless journey. People milled around,
cooking food, repairing carts and tents and organising belongings.

Chief BerantWolf was met by three burly
warriors, their headdresses only slightly less ornate than Chief BerantWolf
himself. They exchanged a greeting ritual of wrestling arms then listened
intently as BerantWolf briefed them about events preceding his return. Occasionally
the chief gestured to Malkrin’s companions. His explanations seemed to unsettle
his officers and they stomped away. One gestured to another man dressed in the
obligatory Wolf skull headdress but with bones hanging from his shoulders and
waist in rattling strings.

BerantWolf ignored them and led his new
companions to a huge cooking fire with an ancient sooty pot suspended above,
from which aromas nagged Malkrin’s stomach.

Looking around Malkrin noticed bands of men
debating fiercely, and highsensed the gathering tension. He trusted BerantWolf’s
authority, however something wasn’t right. He spotted the plaited haired
warrior; he was part of a particularly outspoken debate going on around the
bone decorated man. Malkrin focused his inner ear on the men’s discomfort: it
was their deeply held tradition again. All the men were taking the ritual journey
for granted. It was the Goddess given problem he had feared would be a huge
barrier to the reconnaissance. The Wolf tribe could not stop their journey
either for man God or demon. He tried to figure out why they could not just pause
and wait.

Malkrin sat listening intently, amplifying
the voices with his highsense. He looked up for a moment as Halle shook his
head unable to summon his own highsense.

Then he had it.

The men refused to re-walk the ritual journey
back the way they had already travelled. For timeless generations they had
headed in the direction of sunrise at this point and to head toward the setting
sun was against tradition. Malkrin glanced at BerantWolf; he was standing expectantly
to one side as if awaiting a challenge. Again Malkrin admired BerantWolf’s ability
to circumvent convention. He had proposed a change to generations of chiselled-in-stone
journeying and was preparing to meet the consequences. Malkrin highsensed the
plaited haired warrior arguing for BerantWolf. It was a surprise to Malkrin: a sign
of the man’s loyalty.

Some men approached BerantWolf and spoke in
urgent whispers. The man with the bone lines hissed and gestured in the
direction of the Brightwater mountains. Others backed him up by pointing as
well. BerantWolf stood arms folded and shaking his head, loyal warriors joined
him and stood immovably either side of him. The plaited haired one stood firmly
on BerantWolf’s right side.

Malkrin gripped Palerin’s pommel, things
looked as if they were about to get out of hand. Eighth-of-Senate looked uneasy,
although exhausted he drew a curved and polished sword and moved to join the
confrontation. Malkrin wondered if it had ever slain another man and doubted
it. Talgour held Eighth-of-Senate back with a hand and shake of his head then
whispered forcefully.

‘
Not our argument.’

Malkrin added, ‘I see now how BerantWolf
will resolve it. We will be safely on our journey tomorrow, do not fear.’ It
was a bluff but he needed to keep his companions from adding to the dispute.

People in the camp were running to alert
other warriors, who soon appeared out of the woods and from tents. They ran
over, Wolf tribesmen who knew the reason for the confrontation explained the dispute
and the newcomers joined whichever side their loyalties lay with.

The odds appeared stacked against BerantWolf
as crowds of men debated. Then the women joined in, their higher pitched voices
added to the mayhem.

Malkrin was amazed the chief allowed the
debate; the many raised voices seemed a cacophony of rebellion. It was
impossible for his inner ear to work out who was saying this and thinking
differently, or who was playing true. Most surprisingly, with all the weaponry
on display not a single drop of blood was being shed.

Then above the outcry BerantWolf’s voice
rose in a single command.

‘
Enough.’

And an expectant hush transformed the crowd,
leaving only birdsong in the trees and the bleating of the tribe’s goats.

BerantWolf continued in a smoothing tone. ‘Cast
your bones Seer, and read the Goddess’s wishes.’

The bone-thrower gyrated in a twirling
dance. His bone strings clattered and shook rhythmically. He spun faster on his
heels, gradually lowering his body as if he were willing himself to drill into
the ground. Then in a blur of movement, when Malkrin was sure he would
overbalance in a tangle of limbs, he threw the bones in an arc around him. The bone-thrower
crouched as still as a poised snake and hissed a prediction in an unearthly call
that pierced Malkrin’s inner ear and sent a shiver down his spine.

‘If forward is chosen then doom awaits all.
But if a group travel backward some will not return. Of these, some will be
lost, some will live to travel again, and some will gain honour. But all that
are to die will rest in the soil of a distant land. A stranger will also journey
with you carrying the seeds of victory in his head. Choose right and within three
moons the Wolf Tribe’s honour will be defended. A great tale of sacrifice will
be told, but the Goddess’s rule will wither.’

The bone-thrower shook like a dog shedding
water and his eyes refocused.
‘That is the Goddess’s warning and her
true words.
’

Reverentially the crowd fell silent. BerantWolf
considered the counselling for twenty breaths, his massed companions waited
quietly and expectantly. Then BerantWolf spoke.

‘BalthWolf has predicted doom for a few
when returning along the sacred route to learn more of the demons. But the Goddess
predicts doom for all if we do not act. I am convinced it is necessary to our
very existence to discover how to destroy this terrible new enemy.’ He looked
from one to another of his company of warriors, his eyes laden with responsibility.
‘The Goddess’s wrath will not descend on us just because we are forced to break
our sacred duty for a vital task. If we do not confront the demons then none
will survive to do her will – and she has assured us a courageous tale will be
added to our story telling. S
o we will prevail
.’ BerantWolf looked
around his warriors and seemed to stare into each of their minds. ‘I take with
me two hands of warriors. These warriors will accompany me freely of their own
choice because she has decreed some will not travel the sacred route again. The
rest of my people will continue the hallowed journey to the bridge of the
Brightwater people and await my return. BalthWolf will guide you in my absence.’
He turned to the bone-thrower, ‘honour my decision – do not continue the sacred
route past Brightwater. Send a patrol ahead toward the Seconchane to report
whether demons have already passed along our sacred route.’

BalthWolf nodded in quick agreement.
Malkrin could detect no duplicity behind the seer’s agreement. He glanced at the
plaited haired man, who turned to glare sparks at him and Malkrin’s concerns
over the man’s hidden agenda resurfaced.

BerantWolf stepped to one side, his
features hardened and he spoke with the dread of a father asking his sons to
die.

‘Ten loyal warriors join me here – but
prepare for death as well as honour.’

Murmurs rose and men began to discuss the
situation with each other again. The muttering rose again to full debate, then
in ones and twos warriors stepped to BerantWolf’s side.

‘Stop, I have more than enough for the
quest.’ BerantWolf examined each volunteer then spoke to two of them.

 ‘Loyal ElroomWolf, you are advanced in
years; and you will I fear falter with the pace we must maintain. Step back and
help guard the women and children against the demons that will soon arrive to
test us.’

ElroomWolf bowed and rejoined the main group.

BerantWolf put his hand to the shoulder of
a young warrior. Malkrin thought he was the same age as Seara.

‘Brave Eutola, you will be as fearless as
your father. But for the skirmishes we may be forced to fight. We need an
experienced warrior’s strength and guile. I fear you must maintain your training
with the warriors that stay. But fear not – the time to prove your worth is not
many moons distant.’

Eutola bowed and walked back to the other
warriors.

BerantWolf turned to BalthWolf, ‘Carry out
my instructions tomorrow at dawn. I go now to gather information to preserve
all our futures.’

Malkrin stared in amazement at the obedience
that transcended the near rebellion. BerantWolf certainly had supreme authority
after all. The men dispersed and resumed their various tasks as if the dispute had
never happened.

BerantWolf walked to Malkrin and his companions.
‘Brothers,’ he began, ‘we must march at speed now, lest my people become
agitated by our hesitation.’

 Then he returned to his warriors, ‘The
sooner we accomplish our task the sooner we can return to our families.’

They gathered backpacks and weapon bundles
and BerantWolf led them at a fast trot with the plaited haired warrior at his side.

Malkrin surmised the man was high in the Wolf
Clan hierarchy – which made his hatred harder to fathom given his Chief’s
dedication to the reconnaissance. Malkrin feared a confrontation that night
when they stopped to rest. He kept close to BerantWolf to try to force the
plaited haired warrior to make a move there and then. His highsense detected
only background hatred, the man was not ready.

The Wolf warriors were at the peak of
fitness but not Talgour who staggered and lost pace. Malkrin fell back to
encourage him.

‘As a court official . . . I do not normally
need . . . physical exercise,’ he gasped to Malkrin’s silent query. Seeing his
predicament Malkrin took his backpack adding it to his own, and then supported
Talgour. The official’s chest was heaving and spittle was foaming around his
mouth. After a short break, BerantWolf continued at a pace Talgour could
maintain and with the lighter load the Brightwater official found hidden
reserves of energy to keep up with them. A few days would see him fit, Malkrin
guessed – by the look of his determination he may be at the front of the column
by then.