booksnew/build/mythlands/OEBPS/ch25.xhtml
2015-09-09 20:29:16 +01:00

549 lines
26 KiB
HTML

<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?>
<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN"
"http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd">
<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml">
<head>
<title>Mythlands - Chapter 25</title>
<link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="imperaWeb.css"/>
<link rel="stylesheet" type=
"application/vnd.adobe-page-template+xml" href=
"page-template.xpgt"/>
</head>
<body>
<div id="text">
<div class="section" id="xhtmldocuments">
<h1>25</h1>
<p>
The ache had faded from Corriwen's heart when she woke before dawn after seeing the red hand in the sky and the flight of swans over the corona. She rose
with the uncanny certainty that Jack Flint and Kerry would come looking for her.
</p>
<p>
But her heart was not at peace, for when she awoke, Brodick was gone from the spot beside the fire where he had slept.
</p>
<p>
She shook sleep away and moved to the edge of the hollow where they had sheltered and found hoofprints.
</p>
<p>
Now she was curious as she followed the trail away from the campsite, for perhaps a mile from where they had slept, and heard the sound of voices.
</p>
<p>
Her heart leapt. Brodick had found them. A smile dimpled her cheeks and she ran forward to greet Jack and Kerry.
</p>
<p>
And then she stopped dead when she saw the Scree, and the joy in her heart turned instantly to fear.
</p>
<p>
The Scree was leaning against the rock, a club over his shoulder. There were others there around a small fire, their hounds muzzled and the hogs pegged
beyond the fire. As she drew back out of sight, aware that she had almost run into their arms, she saw Brodick.
</p>
<p>
His back was towards her. The horse was hobbled some distance away, uneasy at being so near the Scree and their hounds. Her hand went to her knives,
wishing she had a sword, or Jack's amberhorn bow, steeling herself for a fight and knowing she would have to rescue her cousin.
</p>
<p>
Then Brodick stood up. He was not bound and shackled as she thought.
</p>
<p>
Over the distance she heard his voice, though not the words, and then he laughed. He clapped one of the hunched Scree on the shoulder and Corriwen's heart
sank. The troop were just like the ones who had hunted them all over Temair.
</p>
<p>
<em>And Brodick was laughing with them</em>
.
</p>
<p>
Slowly, quietly, she pulled back, kept low until she was well out of sight, then ran back to the camp, making sure she stayed on rocky ground to leave no
prints of her own. Her mind was in turmoil as she wrapped herself in her cloak, lay down again and closed her eyes, trying to think.
</p>
<p>
She was lying still when Brodick came back, leading the horse by the reins.
</p>
<p>
"Time to rise, cousin. We have a way to go.
</p>
<p>
But where have you gone, in your heart, she asked herself, unable to look him in the eye, lest it betray her thoughts.
</p>
<p>
Far in the east, the maelstrom was an inkblot low in the sky. Brodick shaded his eyes.
</p>
<p>
"We should start before that overtakes us," he said. "It doesn't look natural to me."
</p>
<p>
The forces of evil were gathering to destroy Temair. That much she knew.
</p>
<p>
"It's Mandrake," she said, keeping her voice steady, testing his response "And that monster he is trying to raise. They have this power now. What will it
be like when she is free?"
</p>
<p>
"What can the Redthorn sword do to stop it?" Brodick asked.
</p>
<p>
"It will unite the people again," she said, "and break Mandrake's power."
</p>
<p>
"They are scattered or slaves," Brodick said flatly.
</p>
<p>
"For now. But there is hope. If the beast gets free, there will be <em>no </em>life. Mandrake knows the sword is important, that's why has been hunting me.
But he has hunted Jack and Kerry too. The Bard says he wants the Key."
</p>
<p>
"The Key?" He lifted his eyes quickly. She saw his interest quicken.
</p>
<p>
"The stone he wore on his neck," Corriwen said. "It's the Key to everything, so Finbar said. He made me promise not to tell Jack. The stone belonged to his
father. He was a great man."
</p>
<p>
She was watching his eyes. He had said nothing about his encounter with the Scree hunters and that meant he had much to hide. Corriwen wished she could
look into his heart and discover why.
</p>
<p>
That night, on the same night that Jack Flint groped in the dark with the saddlebags on Declan's horse, Corriwen Redthorn did exactly the same with
Brodick's.
</p>
<p>
They were beyond the boulder ground now, and close to the edge of the High Salt Plain. Few plants grew and they stopped for the night beside an outcrop
which sheltered them from the wind.
</p>
<p>
She couldn't sleep and even the Corona high above offered her no comfort as she waited in the cold until Brodick was asleep.
</p>
<p>
The horse whinnied when she approached and she wondered whether she should just climb on the saddle and leave him.
</p>
<p>
But she had to know.
</p>
<p>
Very quietly she opened the saddle-pack and with stealthy fingers, she reached inside.
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
Far in the depths of the Black Barrow, the Morrigan, trapped since the days of Cullian the Traveller, sensed the coming together of all the pieces she had
laid out.
</p>
<p>
Her mind reached out, across the flat of the plain. She touched the small, black mind of a coiled adder and it writhed and sank its fangs into its own
flesh and died in an instant.
</p>
<p>
Her strength was increasing.
</p>
<p>
She reached further and higher and from the crater-eyes of the great roak that circled above the ridge, she saw Mandrake's army turn back towards the dam.
</p>
<p>
She saw Alevin's men ride through the cleft in the ridge and slaughter every Scree, but she knew now their fight was in vain. They would become her
unwitting tools.
</p>
<p>
<em>Too late. Too </em>
late.
</p>
<p>
She saw the small group on two horses, trudging north, heading directly towards where she waited for them, her hunger like a cold fire.
</p>
<p>
She saw a girl and a man, on the edge of the salt plain, even closer, almost close enough to taste.
</p>
<p>
And the heart stone. The heart stone was almost in her grasp.
</p>
<p>
She laughed, in foul glee.
</p>
<p>
The time was almost here.
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
Brodick woke when he felt the cold point of her blade against his throat. His hand instinctively jerked towards his knife.
</p>
<p>
"Don't move," she said. "Traitor."
</p>
<p>
"I don't understand&#8230;." He began to say.
</p>
<p>
Her other hand held the Book of Ways. She raised it and his eyes flicked towards it.
</p>
<p>
"You stole this."
</p>
<p>
Brodick shook his head. "No. I found it. When the boy fell."
</p>
<p>
"Boy?" Her voice was harsh and tight. "Jack Flint is more a man than you will ever be. He would never betray me."
</p>
<p>
"And nor did I, cousin. Nor did I. The book was on the ground. I knew it was important to you."
</p>
<p>
"And you never mentioned it? Just kept it hidden."
</p>
<p>
"I&#8230;I&#8230;" for a second he was lost for words. "I saved your life. I fought for you."
</p>
<p>
"Just who were you fighting for, Brodick?"
</p>
<p>
"How can you not trust me?" he asked. The knife was still at his throat. "I am your cousin."
</p>
<p>
"I saw you with the Scree," she said coldly. "I thought you were a prisoner. I was prepared to fight for you. But you were no prisoner. You were with the
Scree."
</p>
<p>
Brodick's eyes flicked to the side, over her shoulder.
</p>
<p>
"What. Those<em> </em>Scree?"
</p>
<p>
Her head turned before she could stop herself and his hand lashed out, clamped on her wrist and twisted. The knife fell to the ground. She tried to grab it
back, but Brodick whipped his own knife from its sheath before she could reach it and held the edge against her neck. She dropped the book and clawed for
his eyes, but he jerked back laughing and her fingers only caught the fine linen of his tunic. It ripped when he pulled away and there, just under his
chin, she saw the heart-stone on its silver chain.
</p>
<p>
"Corriwen," Brodick said, his voice now light. "Cousin Corriwen. I did save your life. And now this!" He shook his head in mock weariness.
</p>
<p>
"Traitor," she hissed. She looked at the knife, saw the golden hilt, and in an instant, she was back on the battlefield, cradling her dead brother's head
as his eyes blindly sought the far distance and the same golden knife-hilt stuck in his side, glinting with morning dew.
</p>
<p>
She had known then that Cerwin had been killed by a traitor's hand. No Scree owned a knife like this one.
</p>
<p>
She had taken it, wet with her brother's blood and wrapped it in cloth. It had been in her knapsack ever since.
</p>
<p>
Now that knife's twin was against her neck, its blade pressing tight.
</p>
<p>
"Not a traitor," Brodick said. "Just a realist."
</p>
<p>
He smiled patronisingly at her. "I was on the winning<em> </em>side."
</p>
<p>
"You betrayed your people," she gasped.
</p>
<p>
"My people? I <em>have</em> no people. The third son of a chief on the far borders? By accident of birth, Mandrake was denied the Redthorn seat. By
accident of birth, I had nothing. But Mandrake promised me more power than I dreamt of.
</p>
<p>
She dropped her eyes, letting him think she was beaten.
</p>
<p>
"And now I will have even more," he gloated. "Face it, Cousin. The war was lost long ago. A new order begins. You could be at my side. Mandrake is sick. I
have seen him. Ravaged by his alchemy; riddled with poison. I could have it all. And the Redthorn sword would rule again."
</p>
<p>
She raised her face to him, green eyes glittering with anger and betrayal.
</p>
<p>
"I would rather die," she said, very softly. But now she knew he would not kill her. Not yet.
</p>
<p>
"Oh, I don't think so," he said. "When the war is lost, peace follows. And it will be a different Temair. So, up with you. We have things to do and places
to go. I know something Mandrake doesn't."
</p>
<p>
Brodick bound her hands with a leather thong and put her knives in the saddle-bag. He picked up the Book of Ways, and sat beside her. He opened the book
and waited patiently until the old script began to form on the next empty page.
</p>
<p class="centered">
<em>Read on, should heart be strong and true</em>
</p>
<p class="centered">
<em>False heart finds the road to rue</em>
</p>
<p class="centered">
<em>A treasure trail bold feet to follow</em>
</p>
<p class="centered">
<em>A hoard of gold, though wealth be hollow</em>
</p>
<p class="centered">
<em>Left hand finds a heart's desire</em>
</p>
<p class="centered">
<em>Right hand, pain and fear and fire.</em>
</p>
<p>
He turned to her, eyes bright.
</p>
<p>
"I knew it," he said. "Mandrake found his wealth in the barren lands. There were cities here of old, filled with gold. Before the war with the Fomorian
Scree."
</p>
<p>
He grinned. "I read the books. It was before the Salt Barrens were wasteland. People lived here, and they were very rich.
</p>
<p>
She turned away.
</p>
<p>
"You don't realise. I could have turned you over to Mandrake. That's what he wanted. But that's not going to happen. We don't need him when we can find our
own wealth. Buy our own armies."
</p>
<p>
He laughed aloud. "We could take Temair from under him."
</p>
<p>
Corriwen said nothing. Brodick had betrayed her brother, and he had betrayed her. Now he was to betray his real master. She felt sick at the thought that
he was her cousin.
</p>
<p>
Brodick ignored her silence as he unrolled his bedding blanket and hitched her thongs to a stake driven into the ground. As the night wore on, he fell
asleep, still smiling. She knew he would dream of wealth and power. She waited, still as a mouse, until he was sound asleep and then carefully drew out the
little red knife that Jack had given to her. It had fascinated her how it could unfold into many blades. Very quickly she cut through the knot on the
thongs and wriggled her hands free. Brodick had put her twin knives in the saddle-roll and she thought she should just get them and cut his throat while he
slept.
</p>
<p>
But something made her pause. The Book of Ways was lying on a flat stone where Brodick had left it. She looked up at the Corona and wondered what Jack and
Kerry would do under the circumstances.
</p>
<p>
The book flicked open, all by itself.
</p>
<p>
Corriwen started back in surprise.
</p>
<p>
Immediately the pages riffled in a whisper that sounded like a far-off voice and then it lay open. Her hand reached and lifted the book, drew it on to her
knee. Under the starlight, the words appeared on the page and she focused on them. The first time Jack had shown her the old script, she could not
understand the words, but as she concentrated on the page, something clicked in her mind and the meaning became suddenly clear.
</p>
<p>
She read them slowly:
</p>
<p class="centered">
<em>Lead on, brave heart, be true and strong</em>
</p>
<p class="centered">
<em>Keep a promise, right a wrong</em>
</p>
<p class="centered">
<em>Left hand path for greed and gain</em>
</p>
<p class="centered">
<em>To lose the way, to search in vain.</em>
</p>
<p class="centered">
<em>Pause for breath, ere journey's end.</em>
</p>
<p class="centered">
<em>Rest a-while, re-find a friend</em>
.
</p>
<p>
Hope flared in her heart again.
</p>
<p>
The verse was similar to the one Brodick had read gloatingly. But it was different. That message had been for him. This was for her alone. She would be mad
to ignore what it said.
</p>
<p>
It was giving her directions that were different from Brodick's.
</p>
<p>
The Book of Ways was on <em>her</em> side. She knew it as surely as she knew that Jack was still alive.
</p>
<p>
Very quickly she turned the thongs around her wrists again and lay down on her side. Sleep came slowly, but it came.
</p>
<p>
In her dreams she saw Jack Flint and Kerry on the back of a great horse. They were galloping north.
</p>
<p>
And someone was following them.
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
They tied Declan up and left him lying, still asleep, beside the embers.
</p>
<p>
It was almost completely dark and they had some broth boiling on the flames when suddenly Jack started.
</p>
<p>
"What's up," Kerry asked. Jack glanced beyond the fire to where Declan was hobbling the horses.
</p>
<p>
"I remembered what it was," Jack whispered. "What I saw before I was clonked on the head."
</p>
<p>
Kerry raised his eyebrows in question and Jack went on: "It was him. I remember seeing the empty sheath and then something hit me. It must have been him."
</p>
<p>
"That's why he was so keen to come with us."
</p>
<p>
"And he has the book. I felt it in his saddlebag."
</p>
<p>
"So what do we do?" Kerry demanded. "We can't fight him."
</p>
<p>
Declan came back and sat by the fire. He had said nothing yet about catching Jack fumbling in his bag. He took a whetstone and began to stroke it along his
sword. The metal gleamed in the firelight.
</p>
<p>
And an hour later, he was fast asleep. They waited another hour before Kerry made two loops of strong nylon line and then, moving silently Jack slipped one
round Declan's throat and pulled tight. He woke instantly, but Kerry was ready and caught his wrist with the other line before he could reach his sword.
</p>
<p>
Choking, Declan tried to pull the nylon away from his throat and as he did so, Kerry looped more line round his feet. In minutes they had him bound like a
hog, struggling helplessly.
</p>
<p>
Jack snatched the saddlebag and slung it over their mount.
</p>
<p>
Then they were gone.
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
Corriwen was in front of Brodick on the horse, with the binding thongs looped around the saddle horn. He had placed her there, and she could reach neither
her own knives in the saddle-roll, nor his in its sheath. But she could wait.
</p>
<p>
The horse plodded on, following rocky gullies where water might once have flowed, long ago. Corriwen listened for signs of pursuit, hoping and praying that
Jack and Kerry would find her soon, wishing she hadn't confronted Brodick until the odds were more even.
</p>
<p>
Many miles down the trail, they were in a ravine where powdery sand trickled from bare rock walls. She kept her eyes ahead, alert for movement, but when it
came, it surprised her.
</p>
<p>
Behind her, Brodick was half asleep.
</p>
<p>
A hundred yards ahead, the left side of the canyon wall began to shimmer, as if sunlight were catching tiny crystals on the stone. Corriwen bent to shade
her eyes, not sure of what she had seen, and as she did, the strange shimmering stopped.
</p>
<p>
But where she was sure there had been bare rock, another ravine opened on the left side, a fork in the path where there had been one trail seconds before.
</p>
<p>
The message in the Book of Ways suddenly became clear, and using her knees, she edged the horse to the left and into the narrow gully.
</p>
<p>
"For better or worse," she told herself.
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
Five hours later, Jack and Kerry would have missed the fork entirely, but for Kerry's skill. He was leading the horse while Jack sat in the saddle and the
little Leprechaun clutched the mane tight.
</p>
<p>
Kerry paused, crouching over close to the ground, following the tracks that were already silting up as the fine sand drizzled down the valley sides.
</p>
<p>
"What's up?" Jack asked. He eased himself from the saddle and kneaded his stiff backside.
</p>
<p>
"They stop here," Kerry said, looking left and right. "And that's wrong surely. Unless that big horse can fly."
</p>
<p>
"I wish ours could," Jack replied. "I'm sore all over."
</p>
<p>
"So are my feet," Kerry countered. "My trainers are just about done in. And I bet you can't get Nikes here for love nor money."
</p>
<p>
He was about to say more when the cleft on the left path appeared, just a few feet ahead of them. The pattern of stones on either side had made it look
like solid rock, but as soon as Jack stepped forward, the gap was clear to see.
</p>
<p>
"Mystery solved," Kerry said.
</p>
<p>
"Maybe," Jack agreed. "But why would they take a side road? That doesn't look as if it goes anywhere."
</p>
<p>
They followed the fork anyway, leading the horse through a space that was hardly wide enough to let it scrape past, until the gully began to widen.
</p>
<p>
Soon they came to an arch that at first looked carved by water, but as they approached it became clear that it had been built from solid blocks of stone,
weathered and patched with dry lichen. Some sort of script had been carved on it, but it was too worn to make out.
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
Beyond the narrow entrance, the old city was a labyrinth of ruins and crumbling walls. At the far end, an ancient castle on higher ground overlooked the
ruins.
</p>
<p>
"This is the place," Brodick said. "I knew it. The book was right."
</p>
<p>
"Yes," Corriwen thought, "But which verse?"
</p>
<p>
Brodick bundled her down from the saddle and hitched her bonds to a bronze spike that might have had some function long ago.
</p>
<p>
"You stay here," Brodick said. "I'm going to make us rich."
</p>
<p>
"There will be no <em>us</em>," she replied, but Brodick had the same strange light in his eye that he'd had when he snatched the knife from her. He wasn't
even listening.
</p>
<p>
She watched him work his way through the labyrinth towards the old castle, while above her, black birds wheeled on thermals. They might have been roaks,
but they were too far away for her to be sure.
</p>
<p>
As soon as Brodick was out of sight, Corriwen loosened the cut thong and then crossed to where the horse was hobbled. In the saddle-roll, she found her own
knives in their sheaths and buckled them to her belt. She turned, staying low, about to follow Brodick when she stopped, went back to the horse and unslung
her own satchel.
</p>
<p>
She drew out the gold-hilted knife that she had pulled from her brother's dead body. The blood on the blade was brown and dry, but the point was as sharp
as ever. She nodded to herself, biting on the grief that suddenly gripped her, clenched her fingers round the dagger's hilt and then silently set off into
the labyrinth.
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
Deep in the bowels of the castle it was cold and dank. Darkness shrouded Brodick as soon as he stepped through the gate. Above him an ancient portcullis
hung from rusting chains that seemed almost worn through.
</p>
<p>
He ignored the mouldering skeletons that lay crumpled on the castle steps, and the ones that lay inside the great hall, sprawled on a worm-eaten table that
was now almost dust.
</p>
<p>
A battle had been fought and lost here. The bones were old and white but he had no interest in the dead, only what they had left behind. He stepped over
bony hands that still held ancient swords, ribs pierced with rusted knives, not giving these old warriors any reverence at all. His mind was fixed on what
lay ahead.
</p>
<p>
The footprints in the dust, old though they were, could still be seen. Somebody had been here before him, and he knew that it was Mandrake. He had been led
to this wealth and now Brodick was following in his footsteps.
</p>
<p>
As he moved carefully in the gloom, he was thinking that he might not be following in Mandrake's footprints for long.
</p>
<p>
Behind him, silent as a cat, Corriwen Redthorn followed the maze of tunnels beneath the great hall, eyes wide as they accustomed themselves to the dark,
listening intently for the slow footfall ahead of her and the slight sound of Brodick's breathing in this silent place.
</p>
<p>
And behind Corriwen Redthorn, moving just as silently, Jack Flint and Kerry followed.
</p>
</div>
</div>
</body>
</html>