The Grim Wanderer (4 page)

‘Nestled in the feet of the Blue Mountains,’ Hirandar said to Elena, Macen and Edar, ‘there exists a small fortification called The Holdstead. It is a haven for the forces of the Light, run by Fedral Landra and his wife Ilyena.’

‘This is one of the safest places in Hathlore,’ Logan said. ‘Fedral will keep a close eye on you,’ the Master looked warily at Macen and Edar. ‘You will meet many interesting characters passing through this haven in the wilderness, and the training will be hard,’ Logan smiled – he knew, from experience. ‘Fedral is Sodan. One of the handful of others, besides myself, who keeps alive the Old Ways of the Sword.’

‘And why do I have to go with them?’ Elena said fiercely. ‘I am eighteen, and
I am not a child!
Taem is barely two years older than me, and I can best any man with a sword. I will go wherever Taem goes, my brother needs me to watch his back.’

‘You are skilled, Elena,’ Logan said calmly. ‘But not ready. Your time will come.’

‘Are you saying that because I’m a girl?’ Elena slammed her fist into the table.

‘You forget yourself,
apprentice
,’ Logan growled.

‘Sorry, Master,’ Elena murmured. ‘But I
am
ready. I can fight!’

‘I know you can fight, Elena,’ Logan said softly, as he put a hand on the girl’s shoulder. ‘And sometimes you have more heart than the rest of us put together. But if I say you’re not ready,
you are not ready
. This is not your time. And that is the end of it.’

Elena crossed her arms with a sulky grimace.

‘Sera,’ Hirandar said, ‘you must go with them. I would fear for your safety if we left you living in this isolated place by yourself. And Logan, you should go as far as Crowhurst with them. A friend will be waiting there to escort them to the Holdstead.’

‘Someone we can trust?’ Logan asked.

‘A friend for sure,’ Hirandar nodded. ‘From Crowhurst, Logan can make his way to Stheeman’s Hill. Taem and I will meet him there, but there is something we must do first...’ The Wizard paused, contemplating the importance of what was to come. ‘Taem and I will join Logan at Stheeman’s Hill, as soon as the Light wills it.’

The following evening Taem left Elena, Macen and Edar playing cards on the patio table, and went to the practice yard to do some exercise, to give his busy mind something to concentrate on. Even as he walked over to the training field he could still hear his brothers and sister laughing as they played, and that made Taem smile. The late spring evening still held some of the day’s heat, and the sky glowed a magnificent furnace-red, a good sign for travelling in fine weather tomorrow. Taem picked up the heavy, unwieldy, blunt bit of metal that Logan often made him use as a training weapon. It was the opposite of the light, balanced, razor-sharp blade that Logan possessed. They called this crudest of swords the Armburner – because, no matter how often you trained with it, your body was always in pain the next day! As Taem finished, breathless from the exertion, Logan approached from the dusky shadows.

‘Well done,’ Logan nodded. ‘If you can learn to use that as a weapon, you can use anything. Now try it with the real thing.’ Logan passed Taem his sword. ‘Try Lone Wolf Hunting.’

Taem held up Logan’s sword, and saw how its single-edged blade – arced in the slightest crescent – gleamed silver. He marvelled at how the last russet rays of the sun shimmered over the blade’s flawless surface. As Taem turned to face the setting sun, he felt its warmth bathe his face. Always the Forms looked to the west, towards the last monument of daytime as it fell into the shadow of the horizon. Easing out a deep breath, Taem felt as one as he became the Lone Wolf Hunting.

Taem performed the Form with precision and skill. The real sword felt so light and effortless compared to the Armburner.

‘Feels so easy now,’ Logan had a knowing look in his eyes – his Master had often made him train in the same way, ‘does it not? Come, I need your help fixing the barn roof. I want it done before we leave tomorrow.’

Taem sheathed Logan’s sword and gave it back to the Master, presenting it with both hands, as in Sodan ceremony. Logan smiled as he took the offered blade. That humility would serve Taem well for what was to come.

Taem followed Logan up the ladder onto the roof of the barn, the older man carrying the wooden toolbox, whilst Taem struggled behind with a bundle of thatch. As they sat up on the peaked roof, and mended holes in the straw, they talked and joked – not dissimilar to any other father and his son. Taem could see Elena in the field yelling at Macen for the next pass of the leather ball, as Piper the sheepdog scampered between them. Hirandar sat in her favourite rocking chair outside the kitchen door, watching the youngsters having a good time. Sera was in the kitchen, putting the finishing touches to their dinner of roast pheasant and vegetables. Taem caught the delicious smell of roasted fowl as it rose up on the breeze. His stomach rumbled as he inhaled a sweet scent, and he realised there was apple pie for dessert.

From his elevated position, Taem appreciated the view of the dusky evening over the farmland, and the plains stretching up to the far off forest. He cherished the glow of warmth emanating from the farmhouse. Taem knew he was fortunate to call such a place home. And, he knew it might be some time until he would again look over the sleepy farm.

Later that evening, Taem examined one of the maps on the wall of the sitting room, tracing the route to Stheeman’s Hill. He felt the warmth of the fire on his back, crackling in the fireplace. Ever since Taem had been a boy, he had gazed in awe at the outlandish maps, the old tapestries and the paintings of legend that decked the sitting room’s walls. They always caught his imagination, filling him with the promise of adventure.

Aunt Sera rested in a comfortable armchair close to the fire, with her feet up on a footstool. The farmhouse cats purred by her side, whilst Sera concentrated on her knitting. Macen lounged across one of the luxurious sofas – an expensive import from Grantle – reading a storybook called
The Travels of Jevan Deshlan,
whilst Elena and Edar were out helping Logan bring the horses in to stable for the night.

Hirandar approached Taem as he was looking at the map.

‘Planning out the route?’ The Wizard said.

‘Yes,’ Taem turned to the old woman, ‘although it does seem straightforward’.

‘Ah, but it pays to be careful,’ Hirandar nodded. ‘You never know what may happen on route. Have you packed everything you need?’

‘Yes.’

‘Good,’ Hirandar smiled. ‘There is something I want to give you before we leave.’ The Wizard bade Taem follow her out into the oak-panelled hall.

They went past the stairs that led up to an overhanging balcony, and under a sweeping gold chandelier that held enough candles to light a banqueting hall, let alone a modest hallway. The Wizard led Taem under the balcony and down the corridor. On their right they passed the reinforced door to the armoury, which had been kept locked when Taem and his siblings had been younger, but was now as open as the rest of the farmhouse. At the end of the corridor they reached the door to the library, and the Wizard strode into her private domain.

In complete contrast to the rest of the farmhouse, the library was a jumbled mess. Bookcases overloaded with books, from floor to ceiling, hid two of the walls. The other two walls were packed with shelves and cupboards that held all manner of materials and strange-looking artefacts. Taem’s bewildered eyes could never quite take in the countless interesting tokens that filled the library. On the desk in the middle of the room lay open books, scrolls and pieces of parchment, and the workbench was covered in apparatus set up for magical investigations and tests. With a swish of Hirandar’s hand, flames sprung to life from various candles and lit up the dark room.

‘I really should tidy up in here,’ the Wizard lifted some ancient parchment and started to rifle through the scattered items on her workbench.

‘A-ha!’ Hirandar said triumphantly. ‘Here it is.’ The Wizard held up a smooth round stone, suspended from a piece of black cord. The stone glowed blue in the candlelight as the Wizard let it dangle from her hand. Taem discerned a rune engraved in the stone, it appeared to be an amalgamation of an “H” and a “Y”.

‘Show this to the right people,’ Hirandar placed the blue stone in Taem’s hand, ‘and they will know you are a friend of mine.’

‘Thank you,’ Taem said.

Hirandar patted Taem’s shoulder, ‘You will see many strange things when we travel in the world outside.’ Hirandar was full of enthusiasm, as she thought of the exciting sights that still roused her imagination, even after two centuries of living. ‘But be careful who you trust! Make sure you know
who
you are talking to before you tell them anything about yourself – especially that you’re friends with me! It saddens me that one has to be so enigmatic, but it is a dangerous world out there. I long for a time when there is no need for such secrecy.’ The Wizard sighed. ‘But still, we must strive to make the world a better place.’ Hirandar nodded at Taem, and smiled. ‘Now, if you will excuse me, I have much research and preparation to do before tomorrow.’

Taem returned to the sitting room where he found Sera still engrossed in her knitting, and Logan reading a book entitled
The Wars Of Men
, by Bran Snowley – an Aritian scribe who was wounded by a stray arrow as he documented the seventh Darnean war. Whilst recovering from his injury, Bran Snowley became convinced he had survived the war for a reason, to record an account of every battle that had ever taken place in Hathlore. Although most historians accepted Scribe Snowley was an eccentric, they all acknowledged his work was the most valuable military treatise ever written.

Elena was beating Macen and Edar in a game of darts, so Taem challenged Logan to a game of Royal Chequers, before heading off for bed.

‘Good night,’ Taem said to them all, as he left the sitting room. On peeping back into the library to see Hirandar, Taem found the Wizard studying a crumpled piece of old paper.

‘Good night, teacher,’ Taem said from the doorway.

Hirandar leapt from her seat. The Wizard clumsily tipped a glass tripod holding a dense green gas across her desk, and knocked a cup of water over some archaic scrolls, as she stuffed the yellowed piece of paper into a pocket in her cloak.

‘Sorry, Hirandar,’ Taem rushed to stand up the tripod, and stop the green vapour water-falling off the side of the desk. ‘I did not mean to startle you.’

‘What?’ Hirandar placed a hand over the paper concealed within her cloak. ‘It’s nothing, my boy. Just an old piece of note paper.’

‘I don’t know why you’re bothered about note paper,’ Taem tried to mop the spilt water off the scrolls, ‘but these documents look valuable – and they’re soaked!’

‘Oh,’ Hirandar casually removed her hand from her cloak’s hidden pocket, ‘probably for the best…’

‘Pardon?’

‘I said,’ Hirandar cleared her throat, ‘I’ll tidy up the rest. Thank you for your quick reactions, Taem – it looks like you managed to save most of the grow vapour – now you should get yourself up to bed.’

‘But these are ruined!’ Taem held up some dripping parchment. He had never seen the old Wizard be so calm about the destruction of any writings. Damaging a book was usually enough for Hirandar to blow her top – let alone flooding away all the ink on some ancient scrolls!

‘Unfortunate, yes,’ Hirandar lifted up some of the dripping scrolls, ‘but no real harm done.’ The Wizard held the papers above the now empty cup and drew her hand down the scrolls. By the use of magic, all the water drained from the parchment and dripped down into the cup beneath. ‘There we are, I’ve saved what I can.’

‘Hirandar, are you alright?’ Taem looked at the Wizard in amazement. You are being very relaxed about–’

‘I’m fine, Taem. It’s just I’m… probably as eager about tomorrow as you are.’

‘Why, teacher? You have been travelling a thousand times, why is this any different?’

Hirandar smiled as she struggled for something to say. ‘Oh well… you know… it’s just… I’m tired this evening, Taem. It’s been a long day for me, you should get off to sleep as well,’ Hirandar ushered Taem out of the library. ‘Good night, my boy,’ Hirandar said as she closed the library door.

‘Good…’ Taem began as the door shut in his face, ‘…night?’ He ended up saying to the oak door.

The next morning, Taem pulled tight the straps of his backpack, as he waited by the stables for the rest of his family to ready themselves. Elena secured the horses to the cart, whilst the others loaded up the possessions and clothes, including the farmhouse cats, whining from inside a large wicker basket. Piper the sheepdog scampered all over the yard, barking in excitement, sensing something important was happening. The Wizard had on her usual red travelling dress, and the wide brim of her straw hat faded her face from the warm sun.

Macen and Edar heaved a heavy wooden trunk onto the cart, the last of the luggage. A careless observer would never suspect that these countrymen could ever be warriors. Logan wore plain brown trousers and a faded blue shirt, simple clothes similar to any other farmer in the district. On closer inspection, however, anyone could have seen that Logan was no normal farmer. He wore his sword by his side as if it were a part of him, and there was a hardness to Logan’s face and a keenness in his eyes.

‘Now make sure you feed yourself properly and wash your clothes,’ Aunt Sera said to Taem.

Macen hid his amusement well, but Edar sniggered.

‘I will, Aunt Sera,’ Taem hugged the old lady, and kissed her on the cheek.

Sera was wearing a flowery shawl over one of her finest yellow dresses, trimmed in red. Needless to say, Elena was dressed not in a skirt, but in shirt and trousers like her brothers.

‘You also make sure you look after yourself, Lady Hirandar,’ Sera curtsied to the Wizard.

‘I will Sera,’ Hirandar hugged the old woman.

‘The Hytons are coming to take my chickens and the cows?’ Sera said to Hirandar.

‘It is all arranged,’ Hirandar smiled.

Sera nodded, as Macen and Edar helped her up onto the cart, so she could sit down beside Logan.

‘Farewell, boys,’ Hirandar said to Macen and Edar. ‘Keep out of trouble, keep safe and work hard.’ The Wizard cast a cautionary eye at Edar.

‘I will, teacher,’ Edar tried to say earnestly, but ended up sounding cheeky.

Hirandar raised an eyebrow, as Edar’s face went wide with surprise, a picture of innocence.

‘Watch your brother stays out of mischief,’ Hirandar said to Macen.

‘I will,’ Macen said. ‘Take care of yourself, teacher.’

‘The Light protect you,’ Hirandar hugged each of them.

‘And you, my dear,’ Hirandar touched Elena on the arm, ‘you would look even lovelier in a dress, you know.’

Elena scoffed, ‘And how am I supposed to fight in a dress?’

‘My dear Elena,’ Hirandar smiled, ‘you have more fire in you than any young woman I have ever known.’ Hirandar ruefully shook her head. ‘I will miss you terribly.’

‘And I you, teacher,’ Elena hugged the old woman.

‘Farewell,’ Taem said to his brothers, and kissed his sister on the cheek. ‘Keep up the training, and be good guests and students to Fedral Sodan – and don’t forget to enjoy yourselves!’ Taem smiled as he embraced them all.

‘See you soon, brother,’ Macen smiled.

‘Be careful out there, big brother,’ Elena rubbed Taem’s shoulder, and gave him one last hug.

‘Bye,’ Edar grinned, as he and Macen climbed up onto the cart. ‘Here Piper!’ Edar called to the dog. She scurried up onto the back of the cart.

‘Taem,’ Logan said, ‘remember The Code, and the Light will shine on your blade.’

‘Yes, Master,’ Taem bowed his head. ‘But I have no blade of my own?’

‘You will, my apprentice,’ Logan nodded to Taem, as he stirred the horses into motion and the cart slowly pulled away.

‘See you in a few days, Logan,’ Hirandar said as the wagon moved off, and Taem was sure a knowing glance flickered between them.

‘Let’s go then,’ Hirandar strode off towards the mountains to the east, with Taem following close behind.

Hirandar and Taem had kept to a fast pace all day. It was now late in the afternoon and the fine weather had held throughout. As they headed towards the Dredgen Mountains, Taem had watched the land around them change from maintained farmland to unkempt wilderness. Taem had wondered all day, as the mountains loomed ever larger under the glorious sun, what purpose could the Wizard have in taking him to the wild Dredgen? Taem had not been told by his elusive teacher, so he knew better than to ask. He knew the only answer he would get would be a mysterious “Be patient!”, or “Wait and see”.

There was no longer a trail to follow, so the companions cut eastwards through the grasslands. They had stopped only for Taem to shoot a rabbit for dinner. Taem found the countryside tranquil, with only the song of an occasional bird or the crunch of their boots on the earth disturbing the silence. The quiet had given Taem time to think. What would become of him in the outside world? Would it be how he pictured it from reading books, and what Hirandar and Logan had told him?

The companions left the woodland for the plains once more, when dusk set in.

‘I’m tired,’ Hirandar stopped walking, and looked up at the twilight sky. ‘We’ve come far enough today, let’s stop and camp, before it gets too dark.’

‘This is a good spot,’ Taem walked over to a bare area of flat ground, underneath the boughs of a tall beech tree. The surrounding land was open, but he knew that the tree would give them some shelter if it were to rain. Taem removed his pack, leaving it under the beech, and scurried about collecting up pieces of dry wood with which to make a fire. In no time he had a healthy blaze alight. He skinned the rabbit with his knife, and splayed it over the fire using sticks planted in rock piles. Hirandar sat leaning against the trunk of the beech, resting after the long walk. Taem was carrying both their provisions in his pack, but he was still amazed at how the old woman could match his pace. With all the campsite tasks completed, Taem sat down cross-legged away from the fire. He relaxed his muscles and closed his eyes.

Imagining a sword in his hands, Taem could feel the comfort of its leather grip and the weight in his arms. From within his meditative thoughts, he proceeded to defeat adversary after adversary.

A flash and a bang exploded right in front of Taem’s face. His eyes shot open. Taem threw himself into a backwards tumble. He rolled and sprang up onto his feet, pulling his knife from his belt. Was someone attacking them? Alert for danger, Taem looked out into the dark. It was a clear night. The full moon and the glowing embers of his fire combined to light up the campsite. Taem heard nothing untoward. He smelt the inviting, succulent aroma of the roasted rabbit, and saw the Wizard chuckling at him. Realising the source of the flash, Taem relaxed.

‘I wish you wouldn’t do that!’ Taem scowled at Hirandar.

‘How else am I supposed to wake you?’ Hirandar snapped her fingers, and there was another flash over Taem’s head. The Wizard laughed again.

‘I believe a tap on the shoulder would suffice,’ Taem said dryly.

‘Oh, come, my boy,’ Hirandar grinned, ‘laughter is the most priceless gift!’

‘I suppose so,’ Taem’s grimace softened into a smile, ‘I’ll remind you of that the next time you’re on the receiving end of one of Edar’s pranks.’

‘Quite right too,’ Hirandar handed Taem half of the rabbit on a wooden plate.

‘Thank you,’ Taem mumbled, as he devoured strips of tender meat. ‘How do you have so much energy? You’ve marched all day like a soldier, without stopping once…’

‘You were wondering how the old girl keeps going?’ Hirandar winked. ‘You didn’t think I had it in me?’

‘Well,’ Taem said, ‘I wouldn’t put it like that, but yes?’

‘Age is no barrier,’ the old woman smiled, ‘so long as you have the will to act. Besides, you, Elena and your brothers are like my own children – you keep me young!’

‘And did you ever have any of your own?’ Taem said softly, ‘children, I mean?’

Hirandar’s face became pensive, and Taem thought he saw sadness in those sapphire eyes.

‘I’m sorry,’ Taem said. ‘Forgive me, it’s not any of my business–’

‘It’s alright, Taem.’ Hirandar said kindly. ‘And yes, even I had another life once – a
very
long time ago. But I… forsook that life for duty.’

‘Hirandar, I didn’t wish to bring sad thoughts back–’

‘Sad, my boy?’ Hirandar said. ‘Those memories are some of the happiest of my life. But yes, I have not always lived out here by the mountains. I had a husband once, and a young son.’ The old woman stared out into the twilight. ‘The love of my life, and the star in my sky. But they were taken from me, by the servants of Darkness. Like you and your siblings, I was forced to discover there are those without honour and goodness. They murdered my husband and baby to get to me.’

Taem placed a hand on Hirandar’s arm as the old woman gazed into the fire. Taem did not know what else to do. He thought the Wizard was on the brink of crying. She had always seemed so composed. But this painful recollection of a darker time had brought the old woman to the brink of tears. Taem felt so sad for her, sad that life did not work out how it should have done.

‘What did you do?’ Taem murmured.

‘The best I could,’ Hirandar nodded. ‘I’ve lived as they would have wanted me to, used my powers for good.’

‘And you should be proud of what you’ve done, Hirandar,’ Taem said strongly. ‘Think of all the lives you’ve changed.’

‘I know, my boy,’ Hirandar smiled. ‘I know. But it’s our curse to dwell on what could have been. You only get one chance in this life, Taem. Be sure to make the most of it.’

‘I will, Hirandar,’ Taem touched the Wizard on her shoulder, before he spread a blanket out on the ground and folded his cloak up for a pillow.

Taem became enchanted as he looked up, and saw the night sky had come alive with the glow of the stars. He gazed at the shining lights, recognising some of the constellations from what Hirandar had taught him. He identified the Wayfarer’s Star that lay due west – travellers and ships’ navigators used it to find their bearings. Logan always said that star was more reliable than any map.

Hirandar noticed Taem was gazing up at the stars, ‘You see the constellation in the north-eastern sky? Do you remember what it’s called?’

‘
Alarsium
,’ Taem murmured with reverence. ‘The Star Heaven, as we Sodan know it.’

‘Correct.’ Hirandar looked up at the stars. ‘In elder legends, it’s said that group of stars will protect the world against the evil that exists, many hundreds of miles away to the North. The Dark One’s powers are strongest in this Land of Shadows, far away to the North, there where his Dark creatures dwell.’

‘Logan has spoken of the Land of Shadows,’ Taem shivered. ‘He told me how the night seems to last longer there. The days are darker, as if the sun is somehow dimmer. Everything there has been warped by the Dark. The beasts are ferocious and deadly, the plants venomous and the water poisoned.’

‘A
very
dangerous place,’ Hirandar said slowly. ‘For a thousand years, The Dark One Malveous has waited, dormant, recuperating his power after his defeat in the Great War of the Dark. That was the first time Dark Servant Maliven ever uncloaked themselves to the world at large, believing the Dark One’s triumph close at hand.’

‘The Maliven?’ Taem shivered. He had heard the terrible stories of stealing children in the night. They were evil people who worshipped the Dark One, making sacrifices to him, killing in his name.

‘Yes,’ Hirandar whispered. ‘They’re not just stories,
they are real
. During the Great War of the Dark, they burned the whole world.’

Taem shuddered, when he wondered how anyone could ever be part of that. How could anyone turn to evil? How could anyone betray all that was good in the world?

‘That was long ago,’ the Wizard put some more wood onto the campfire. ‘So distant that people forget Malveous exists, or doubt he ever did. But he’s always been there, threatening the Light. His wicked hand responsible for more than most people would care to imagine. After a thousand years lying in wait, he’s again powerful enough to threaten our world. The Krun that obey him – for his rewards, and for their delight of cruelty and slaughter – become ever more bold, raiding more and more frontier settlements every year.’

Rage swelled in Taem.
Why him? Why his village?
Taem felt hatred of the Krun burn through him.

Hirandar noticed the dark look in Taem’s eyes, but she continued regardless, ‘The Nargs, the Beastmen of Malveous, multiply in Zezometh, preparing for invasion. All this whilst the free peoples have never been more distant. The Rhungars are in decline. Men have become so proud of their great cities and their achievements that they do not believe Malveous is strong enough to affect them. Most people believe the Dark One never even existed, and that Nargs and demons are tales invented to scare children. The Sodan are all but gone. Magic is now a shadow of its former force. Meanwhile, the Dark Servants continue to sow the seeds of dissent in the taverns, streets and courts of the major cities.’

Taem glanced around the campsite, out into the looming shadows, and shivered. The fire no longer seemed so bright or warm, and the darkness seemed to encroach in. Taem found himself reaching for his hunting knife.