Jadde - The Fragile Sanctuary (6 page)

Somehow he was amongst friends.

He noticed a pile of rags soaked in
congealed blood. He passed a hand behind his back, feeling healed scars where
weeping wounds should have been.

‘How?’ He felt really confused; Jadde
should be greeting him now.

‘My daughter, she has a . . . certain gift.’

Malkrin arched his eyebrows and rose
unsteadily to a sitting position. His mind-fog cleared. ‘She has a highsense
and has healed me?’

The tinkling young voice washed over him.
‘You catch on quickly; Sire must be improving.’

‘How long was I ill for?’

 ‘We found you at high sun yesterday. It is
now an hourglass before sunset the next day. Seara laid her hands to you to
stop the bleeding and infection. Then we washed you and wrapped you in warm
furs to aid the fevers withdrawal. Later she lay healing to your blistered
hand. You should feel strength returning to it.’

Malkrin had forgotten the serious burns and
stared at his hand in astonishment. The skin was merely red and soft, like hands
used to a lifetime of washing clothes in the river. He flexed the fingers; they
worked. He would be able to grip a weapon with his usual strength.

‘I have him here Sire.’

Somehow Halle knew. Malkrin watched him respectfully
remove Palerin from a fur. The sword was in its richly embossed leather
scabbard, ready for use. Halle laid Palerin beside him and Malkrin groped
weakly for his trusted weapon. Finally he locked his hand around the hilt. It
felt powerful in his fist and sent a thrill of energy through him.

He realised there was a lot happening here
he could barely grasp, and stared from one respectful face to the other.

‘Friends, you have a lot to tell. I am more
than curious.’

 ‘First, some more stew,’ Seara said, spoon
feeding him from a steaming wooden bowl. How had he missed the aroma? The cave
was heavy with it and he felt suddenly ravenous.

Seara fed him in silence, then she could
contain herself no more, ‘It is good Sire?’

There was something mischievous in her
eyes.

With a full mouth he spluttered, ‘for Jadde’s
sake, just call me Malkrin. I am no longer a high-person. Why do you ask with
such concern?’

‘It is made from a dead cat we found down
the slope – it is how we realised you were up here.’

‘It is more than good Seara. But I had
hoped to have seen the last of that cat.’

They all laughed.

‘Sire . . . err . . . Malkrin, its head was
fried with a stick embedded in its ear and its mouth scorched to a cinder,’ Halle
said. ‘We thought the beast had been dead three days.’

The sun was setting outside and they
rebuilt the fire making the cave cosy with flickering flames and crackling
heat.

Malkrin relaxed and indulged in the heat
from the broth and the fire. They fed him again with dripping smeared bread,
slabs of roast cat and corn-cakes washed down with water.

Malkrin was content, his strength was
returning fast. Jadde had sent friends. All was perhaps not lost.

'Sire, I have a message for you from
Cabryce, may I recite it now?' Halle asked, breaking the companionable silence.

Malkrin nodded, a vision of his soul mate
sprang into his head as if she were there with him.

'My dearest husband,’
Halle hesitated
and looked embarrassed at the second-hand intimacy.

'Get on with it,' Malkrin snapped to cover
his distress. Would he ever see her again? He resolved in that instant that he
would.

‘ . . .
I wish I were with you. I would
give up all that I have here, just so we could face the dangers together. Please
be assured that I will await your return with single focus. I shall look to the
sunrise every morning and the sunset every evening and think of you. Be assured
no other man will share my bed. Until we meet again I pray that Jadde’s blessing
will enable you to increase your gift, and then help you to return safely to overcome
our opponents. I send you the greatest luck and all my love, Cabryce.

Halle and Seara fell deep in their own thoughts,
respecting the need for Malkrin to contemplate his message.

 Later Halle and Seara told their story as
flames reflected on their faces. Knots cracked in the fire adding effect to the
account.

‘I was six summers old when my parents
realised I had a very occasional talent.’ Halle began, looking at the dusty
ground as he retrieved the distant memories. ‘Sometimes I could predict what
they would say and tell them first. Many times they questioned me and warned me
to never reveal it because of its infrequency. They told me the Brenna would
discredit me and send me away. So I kept quiet and told no one. Once or twice a
year the inner feeling would light up and I guessed what someone would say – and
I was always right.  I lived that way until I married my Desira. I told her and
she kept the secret. Then Jadde blessed us with Seara. We watched her closely .
. .’

Seara exploded excitedly. ‘And then when I
was young I healed my mother after she sliced her arm with a flint.’

Halle caught a little of Seara’s
excitement. ‘And we knew to keep it unannounced. Sometimes when she was a mere
infant Seara couldn’t muster the power to heal. It was hard because people
around us fell ill some even died, perhaps unnecessarily. We feared the Brenna
and their cruel rules.’

Seara took up the account. ‘Then I learnt
after many seasons to summon the power at will. I healed my mother when her hearing
began to fail. Secretly I healed a few illnesses by stroking people in
sympathy.’

Malkrin remembered the kind child who
visited the sick.

‘But I couldn’t heal too frequently or
people would have guessed. It was sad and I felt bad, very bad when people
suffered.’

‘We helped her come to terms with the reality.’
Halle declared proudly. ‘Then the boar gored me and Seara cured the wound and I
had to pretend to have a serious limp . . . we are ashamed to reveal this Sire.’

‘All that time I had concern for you and
helped your family –
and you had been fine
?’ Malkrin was astonished but
realised the implications. Josiath had been right. There was hidden highsense
amongst the people.

‘Then I was so mad at your sentence that I
forgot the limp and Priest Helm Rantiss noticed.’

The priest will face an accounting, Malkrin
thought angrily.

‘We hid with mistress Cabryce the same
night you were in the cells.’ Seara added nervously.

‘
Cabryce is in consort with you as well
?’
Malkrin raised his voice in astonishment.

‘It was a terrible thing to inflict
ourselves on her when she was deep in fear for your fate. We hoped for her
sympathy and would have pleaded. We could see confusion and distrust on her
face so laid ourselves and our story before her.’ Halle looked suddenly
grimmer. ’She helped us gather our belongings with Desera’s tearful help.’

‘And here we are,’ Seara finished.

Her tinkling voice cheered Malkrin as if
healing powers were in her words as well as her hands. He stood and tested his
muscles and legs.

‘My friends, your story is truly
extraordinary. I thank you for your help and friendship. But now we must plan
how to survive, for this is an inhospitable land we must travel.’

Seara smiled, collected
the bowls then took them to the back of the cave. Halle sat beside him and uttered
boldly. ‘Lead the way Sire – but where to?’

‘We must find the Wolf-hood
bandits and seek their help.’

‘
Their help
,
to do what Sire?’

‘To locate Jadde,
and place all the injustices before her.’

‘But they’re
bandits and will kill us.’

‘I’m not so sure
they are
just
bandits and I don’t believe they will dispatch us.’

CHAPTER SEVEN

C
abryce wiped a tear from the corner of her
eye and straightened her back. She removed both hands from the hearth’s mantle
and ran them through her hair. No one would see her sorrow. That was the end of
it – on her face at least. She would find a way of getting Malkrin back into
Edentown. In the meantime she would be a model citizen and court any suggestion
the priesthood or the Brenna made. Short of taking anyone as my betrothed of
course, she thought fiercely. Images of Guy Beartooth filled her mind with
revulsion. She hoped the Brenna would not leave their comfy castle homesteads
to involve themselves with her – a mere kinswoman.
They’re too busy feeding
off the taxes extracted from the ordinary folk
, she thought bitterly. Then
threw an earthenware jug against the hearth and seethed. The fire hissed in
sympathy as the honey beer evaporated.

     That felt better. She smacked her
hands together and took a deep breath, habitually holding it.

     It was only two days since Malkrin had
been escorted from Cyprusnia. They had stopped her wishing her husband farewell
and she had screamed at the restraining guards to no avail. Then slammed her
door on them and cried into the bed pillows.

     A knock on her door, then friends
waiting for her help had dried the tears. Already she had successfully smuggled
Halle and Seara past the Brenna border guards. She was pleased, the fight back
had begun.

     It had been easy really. The night had
been blackened with heavy cloud and all she had had to do was make a scene and
shed more tears, this time in front of the guards. Cabryce laughed emptily. 
This had drawn them away from the palisade and the sentry huts beside the path.
The ones resting in the large hut had peered at who was outside making the fuss
and had returned inside leaving the duty guards to deal with her. All the
guards knew her of course. The sentries had seen it as an opportunity to rant
against her exiled husband.

‘The same fate will befall you if you dare
lose your highsense.’ They had gloated and roared.

She had pretended to regain her composure
and apologised for her stupidity in coming to look for Malkrin. Out of the
corner of her eye she noticed two heavily loaded figures creep past and through
the main gate. She had wiped her eyes and bade farewell to the guards, then
made out she was going home.

It was an hourglass of fast walking to get
back to Edentown. But first she had to make sure Halle and Seara were safely on
their way. After two sharp bends in the track a goat-path led up the scree to a
high ledge. She knew that from there she could see into the Darent pass leading
away from Cyprusnia. The moon was free of cloud; its light would aid her to see
Halle and Seara. Just a quick view – to be certain they were on their way. It would
be a last chance to wish them a safe journey and send a prayer to Jadde to
watch over them.

Panting, she scrambled up the narrow path
and reached the ledge. The moon was still out, casting dark shapes all around.
She hoped its light was Jadde’s bidding as she scanned the distant track. Partially
obscured by boulders and midnight shadows it was difficult to see any detail.
She had almost given up, and was about to turn dejectedly round when a distant
movement stopped her.

There they are
, she thought,
almost shouting aloud. Keeping within the dark shadows, they ran along the path
and out of her vision.  It had been a mere glimpse, but in that instant she had
seen the long fur wrapped shape of Palerin on Halle’s back. The sword was going
to be reunited with its owner with her love – and with a message she had
persuaded Halle to memorise.

‘Good luck, dear friends,’ she whispered
toward them. More tears fogged her vision as she turned to walk back down.

Cabryce wandered back to Edentown confused
with her emotions. Should she be feeling elated or tearful? She settled for
both. Her anger with the guards had been for effect, but her tears had been for
Malkrin and for Halle and Seara as she imagined them wandering lost in barren
deserts or gale swept mountainsides.

     Then when home, tired and aching, she
slept restlessly. The next day her chores saw her withdrawn into a blank face,
just smiling slightly at other folks attempted sympathy. As evening darkening
the skies she ate without enjoyment. Then she cleared away the meal and stood
surveying her comfortable cottage with its hanging tapestries and luxurious
seating in front of the roaring hearth. Sadly she viewed the furniture that
Malkrin had lovingly crafted or they had jointly chosen in the market. She held
her breath, practicing her highsense as she thought hard. She had stopped the
servant girl Danna from helping – her Brenna allowance was not enough without
Malkrin’s as well.

She could rely on Nardin, her old friend
had sworn to help in any way he could.  He had smuggled the sword Palerin and
now she was waiting for him to visit so she could relay an account of Halle’s
safe escape. She had plans to discuss – a campaign of protest. She must get the
Brenna to see sense; Malkrin would have been more useful to them as an ordinary
hunter. Now she could see the folk of Edentown going hungry next winter.

A loud knock sounded on the door, she
turned to open it for Nardin to enter.

But the figure at the door was not Nardin.

A furtive stranger stood there under the reed-thatch
overhang. He looked everywhere before slipping past her uninvited, into the
warmth.

‘My apologies high-lady,’ he gave the sign
of respect. ‘But I had to ensure I was not followed.’

She released her breath; vaguely realising
she’d exceeded her forty-five breath record. Then on her next breath she sucked
in the odour of a high-ground sheep crofter. She put a hand over her nose and
disguised the gesture as a cough.  His dirt smudged trousers and cloak
confirmed her assumption. The crofter looked around her comfy room, then
reassured they were alone he reached within his tunic and produced a token so
astonishing she gaped wide-eyed at it.

It was a highsense sun. She quickly slammed
the door.

‘Where did you get that?’ she demanded.

‘I will come to that mistress. First I must
implore you not to tell of my visit.’

‘That would depend on its purpose.’

‘I will explain my lady.’ The crofter
walked to the window and peered out as if trying to see round corners. He
turned and looked deep into her eyes. ‘A dark evil seeps from distant lands
threatening us all, so it has been decided that I secure your help.’

She wondered whether she should be alert to
deceit, but his apparent sincerity was already arousing her curiosity.

Then in an instant she was confused. What
could she possibly help him with? Who had sent this bedraggled stranger to her?
They must be aware of Malkrin’s banishment and had sent this low-man to test
her in some way. Her old secure life was over and suspicion filled her. If she
failed some obscure examination then would he report her to the Brenna for some
trumped up crime?

‘My lady, can I have your attention,’ he thrust
the highsense sun at her. It swam before her eyes. Her legs wobbled and she sat
down abruptly on the nearest shawl covered chair, and just stared at the
confiscated item.

‘Is it Malkrin’s forfeited sun?’

‘It is not, I can ease your mind on that.’ He
paused and looked searchingly at her – then came to a decision. ‘Forget my
attire, it’s merely a disguise. I have always found it a good one, for no one
takes the least notice of a lowly goat herder. May I sit lady?’

‘Yes of course, the shock of the token has
made me forget my manners.’

‘I must start by telling you a story. You
can take it as unsanctioned history.’

‘Unsanctioned . . . Not sanctioned by the
priesthood?’

‘Or by the Brenna.’

‘But the sun token . . . ’

‘. . . I will come to that my lady.’

He relaxed into the chair. His eyes held an
intensity that now made her feel uncomfortable, as if there was something
behind them greater than the best highsense.

Cabryce prepared for a long night.

‘In our grandfathers-grandfathers time many
more highsense suns were awarded. People were not afraid to celebrate their
talent and announced it as soon as they felt a gift arise in their children. Unlike
today, the pressure was not so great. Although many failed – they were not
evicted from your valleys. Although some chose to leave to regain their powers
in seclusion, others left because they couldn’t put up with the shame. Gradually
the shame became inherent in the Seconchane and then the Brenna began to evict.
Resulting in the extraordinary situation you now all live under.

But I am authorised to reveal that there is
another hidden valley higher in the mountains where these so called fallen
people have congregated for many lifetimes. It’s a fertile valley where bad
weather parts to the east and west leaving clear skies at day and rain only at
night. Crops, cattle and people prosper and there is time for them to develop
themselves along the paths Jadde decreed.

Cabryce interrupted in protest. ‘You should
provide food for my people – this winter, before they go hungry.’

‘It has been decided that we cannot reveal
ourselves –
yet
. Our leaders took the decision six generations ago to
remove all mention of us from your scriptures. Now the Brenna and your priests
have forgotten we exist. I must admit – with a little gentle persuasion at
first. We feared the Brenna’s developing aggression. We did not want a bloodbath
to decimate both our peoples.’

Cabryce sighed, ‘Continue, I am struggling
to understand.’

‘It is best for all our people –
for now
.
I will finish then explain why.’ The crofter resumed his account, speaking fast
as if he had little time. ‘Before our enforced isolation, talented people amongst
the Seconchane were spotted by our scouts. Little persuasion was needed for
them to join us. We became many and filled our valleys. They were drawn by one
man’s precious and massive talent. He would have been awarded four gold
highsense stars by the Brenna had such an honour existed. But the priesthood
feared him like no other, and had informed the Brenna of his occasional lapses
. . .’

‘What highsense was so dangerous they feared
him so?’ Cabryce queried. Her interest roused, all concern for her own worries became
temporarily forgotten.

‘Kristoph Falconfeather was the great one.
He possessed an incredible innate ability to attract or reject people. He could,
by force of will change them for the better if they sought to harm, or subvert.
His ability to sift right from wrong was incomparable. He could see deeper into
people’s minds than any other, and would lavishly reward good, scold minor
misdemeanours then encourage the aggressor to improve. But he severely punished
wickedness, and this he had to increasingly do with the Brenna. Call his
ability what you want, beneficial or bad, but he repelled or attracted people
for all the right reasons. His highsense ability became honed to unheard of
heights and we benefited greatly. Eventually the Brenna sent a cowardly
assassin to his home but Falconfeather sensed him and showed his assailant the
evil nightmare of his mind. The assassin lost his sanity and ran screaming and
sobbing. Apparently the Brenna kept him locked away in chains for the rest of
his unknowing life. Then they sent a whole troop to arrest Falconfeather on a
trumped up charge created by a jealous priest. Falconfeather was forced to
blank their minds and they returned believing they had disposed of his body.’

‘But he must be dead by now and his
incredible highsense lost?’

‘He left this life as we all must, but his
high-highsense lives on in his descendants in the valley. We use a mental force
to turn back the few unwanted hunters and Brenna who stray too close. Our
valleys and people remain hidden and forgotten. But we have someone amongst the
Seconchane who informs us of ejected talent. Malkrin has long been watched and
recognised for his abilities. But we missed two others who strangely have
eluded our every eye. They were very secretive and obviously unrecognised by
the Brenna.’

He must mean Seara and Halle. Cabryce
decided to keep the names and her assistance to herself until she could fully
trust the man. ‘So why are you telling me this?’

‘Our leaders believe Malkrin has great
gifts some of which he has yet to acknowledge. One of these hidden highsenses
has allowed him to become cloaked from our searchers. They cannot find him, and
we believe he has inadvertently spread that highsense cloak to cover the two
refugees that sneaked out of Cyprusnia.’

Cabryce frowned. The man acknowledged her
disbelief by squaring his shoulders and looking intensely into her eyes. ‘Malkrin
has a latent talent as great as Krisoph Falconfeather; therefore we must find
him to tell him the hidden truths before he is lost forever or decides on an untimely
revenge against the Brenna.’

‘Malkrin holds no unreasoned malice toward
the Brenna or priesthood. He is a good man who tries to act for the people and
asks just that they are treated fairly and be elevated from their poverty.’