“Yes,” Gawain acknowledged, though in truth his memories of the charge were little more than snatched glimpses, and mostly of Eldengaze aiming at him. “Well…” and with that, Gawain walked extremely stiffly towards the area of the woods the captain had indicated.
“There is a stream, my lord, should you wish to take a change of clothing and a towel?” Tyrane added discreetly.
Gawain looked momentarily surprised, and then glanced down at himself. He hadn’t washed since they’d all wallowed in the mire, heaving the wagons through the mud. Camouflage it may have been on the hunt, but with the danger now past for the moment, he looked like a cave-dweller from a children’s storybook, caked in cracked mud and blood.
“Ah. Thank you again, Captain.”
It was a far more presentable King of Raheen who, half an hour later, walked back to the wagon to hang his wet and stream-washed clothes on a rope running along the side of the vehicle. The blankets that had served as his bed had been folded, and some of the Gorian men were topping up the water butts. They simply gazed at him in awe when he bade them a ‘good morning,’ and he wandered over towards Allazar.
But the wizard was still working, Gawain had seen the look of intense concentration on Allazar’s face, and he decided to leave him in peace to finish deciphering the message from Brock. Instead, Gawain stepped forward, behind Elayeen’s back, and gently rested his hands upon her shoulders, turning her around to face him.
Nothing seemed to have changed, her pupils were still barely visible pinpoints of blackness, and she gazed through his chest.
“Egrith miheth,” he said softly, but received no reply. “I know Elayeen is within you, Eldengaze, I know my lady hears me. I know she saw me on the road yesterday. And I know it was she who stayed the arrow you drew against me. I know, too, she would have allowed you to loose it, had I not slain the beast in time, rather than allow the Kraal to destroy those in our protection.
“I want my Elayeen back, Eldengaze, and I shall have her back. Until you release her, I would have her know that I love her, and would have forgiven her the shot you aimed at my heart, had she allowed you to loose it.”
“I am she.” Eldengaze spoke, but though the words were spoken quietly, the voice still rasped and seemed to echo from within her, horribly.
“No, you are not.”
“I am she, who bound herself to you. I am she, whom you took from faranthroth. I am she, whom you held in the night. But I am become the Sight. He is the Word. And you are the Deed. The Sight, to watch over you and warn of the darkness; the Word, to add knowledge, power and give meaning to the Deed. Friyenheth Ceartus Omniumde.”
“I want Elayeen back!” Gawain hissed, squeezing her shoulders.
Elayeen’s head slowly tilted up, until her awful eyes met his. A chill ran the length of Gawain’s spine and seemed to spread through his very blood, but he gripped her shoulders all the harder for it, and refused to look away though every sense seemed to beg him to do so.
“I am she. I am the Sight, and thus shall I remain until I and I alone see that the Word and the Deed require me not!”
“I shall have her back!” Gawain managed, though how, he could not say.
Eldengaze pinned him a moment longer, and then she turned her back to him, and took a pace away, casting her gaze north once more.
He looked to his left, and his eyes met Allazar’s. The wizard had seen all, and heard all, the dampness in the older man’s eyes speaking volumes. Gawain sighed, and turned his face to the sun, feeling its warmth, choking back the emotion for the sake of the Fallen, for the sake of all Raheen. Then he turned and strode over to the wizard, who rose to his feet.
“Have you finished the message from Brock, Allazar?”
“Alas, no, Longsword,” Allazar whispered, casting another sad look towards Elayeen. “Brock has applied the cipher more than once. Thus, on deciphering the first time, I must decipher the result, and so on, until finally the content of the message becomes clear. It is a tedious business and one mistake can cost hours.”
“Then I suppose I should leave you to your work. The column is making ready to leave, can you work on the road?”
“I can, as long as the horse is content to do nothing but walk steadily and allow me to think.”
Gawain nodded, and then hesitated as though hoping for something, but finally turned away to walk past Elayeen and north along the road towards the wizard Arramin.
On his way, he spotted a face he recognised among a small group of Callodon guardsmen and he paused. The men looked up, and the object of Gawain’s attention looked distinctly nervous as Gawain approached and briefly pointed at him.
“I know you…”
“Serre…”
“No, wait, don’t tell me.” Gawain studied the young man a moment longer. “Your name is Erik. Corporal of the King’s Guard, we met a year ago, after I fired the tower at Jarn.”
The officer gaped, and then beamed. “Aye, my lord! Though it’s sergeant now, Serre, his Majesty promoted me himself, not long after.”
“Congratulations, Sergeant,” Gawain did his best to smile, but was sure he could feel the eyes of Eldengaze upon him. “You served as escort for the wizard?”
“Yes, my lord.”
“Duty is sometimes a harsh taskmaster.”
Erik smiled broadly. “Aye, though begging your pardon, my lord, I’d rather escort a dozen wizards hard across the plains than face the Longsword Warrior again as we did that night.”
“You kept your word to me that night, and there are many that wouldn’t have. Honour to you, Erik, Sergeant of Callodon.”
“Thank you, Serre,” the sergeant managed, he and his men swelling with pride, but Gawain was already walking away towards the wizard.
Gawain paused to the side of the old man, and studied him briefly. Thin, skin and bones mostly, age robbing him of bulk, and countless hours spent poring over old books and manuscripts giving his back a permanent stoop. But there was a brightness in the eyes even now scanning the lines of his book, which spoke of a keen intelligence.
“Good morning, Serre wizard.” Gawain announced himself.
“Eh? Oh!” Arramin appeared genuinely startled, and then incredibly embarrassed. He stooped a little lower, the book held tightly to his chest, trapping his wispy white beard as he bowed. “Good morning, your Majesty. I… I am Arramin, of the D’ith Sek, at your service.”
“I understand from Captain Tyrane that you stood to the fore yesterday, when the Kraal-beast charged.”
“I did my duty, my lord, or rather… rather I would have tried…”
Gawain tried to imagine the old man standing in front of the charging beast, nothing but a faintly comical stick and a few chants between himself and his doom.
“So I’ve heard. And you would have had my lady shoot me from the back of the beast.”
Arramin let out a shaky sigh, and gazed down at his feet. “I could not loose the white fire…”
“I know. You may not harm the races of Man, and I was in the way.”
Arramin gave a single curt nod, his face flushed with shame and embarrassment before the tall warrior-king whose life the wizard had called for less than twelve hours before.
“I did not know you were here, Arramin of the D’ith Sek. If I had, I might not have been as reckless as I was. I acted in desperation, for the sake of those I hold dear, and for the sake of those in our protection on the road. You too, it seems, acted for their sake,” Gawain took a deep breath himself, as though coming to a decision, and in a way, he was. “I did not come here to berate or insult you, Serre wizard, for your actions yesterday. I came here to thank you for them. In truth I say this, I did not know if my desperation would succeed.”
The old wizard looked up into Gawain’s eyes, and blinked, and his lip quivered a little before he spoke: “In truth, my lord, I do not know that mine would have succeeded either. It has been a very long time since last I called upon Aemon’s Fire.”