The Scrivener's Tale #2

THIRTY-FOUR

Hamelyn and King Tamas had ridden through the day, preserving their horses as best they could. When Tamas sensed the horses could not carry them further, he paid for a new pair at Tooley Marsh, northwest of the capital.
‘It’s not really a marsh. Hasn’t been one for centuries, ‘specially not since the river dried up,’ the stableman said, as he looked over their horses. ‘Yes, they’ve done enough. I’ll fetch a couple of fresh ones. You can pay Master Flegon over at the inn. It’s where you’ll find him at this time.’
They paid Flegon, whom they’d found gambling in a corner of the inn over a game of racks. He didn’t seem to be winning and Tamas was certain that the coin he was handing over for the horses would go down on the table for the particularly chaotic and probably dishonest game of dice.
‘You’d better check for drops of mercury in those cubes, Master Flegon,’ Tamas warned. ‘Won’t be the first time a man’s lost his fortune over loaded dice.’
Flegon’s opponent glared at Tamas. ‘Which wind blew you in, matey?’ he demanded, casting a glance at Ham. ‘You all right, son, or is he planning to buy a room and give you a thorough going over?’ He laughed cruelly. Tamas cleared his throat, nodded at Ham for them to be on their way. The men’s laughter followed them.
‘Cut some meat from the haunch,’ Tamas ordered a woman working behind the inn’s counter, ‘pack it with bread, some cheese if you have it.’ He looked back at the men playing.
‘Could you add some chutney too, please?’ Ham asked politely, with a disarming grin and the young woman smiled at him.
‘Well, someone has good manners,’ she said, cutting Tamas a sharp look.
The king glanced at Ham with an expression of confused innocence. When her back was turned Ham gave a shrug.
‘You can’t treat every stranger like a servant, your majesty,’ he whispered. ‘In here, and dressed the way you are, you’re simply another well-heeled traveller.’
Tamas nodded. ‘Sage advice, Ham.’
The woman had given their order to a younger girl, who scurried back into the kitchen. ‘Anything else?’
‘What is your name?’ Tamas asked.
‘Arly,’ she replied, sounding guarded.
‘Well, Arly, forgive my brusqueness. I just don’t like cheats much.’ He looked over his shoulder toward the men playing dice. ‘We’d like two ales, please, and his should be a small watered one,’ he said, thumbing at Ham, who remained silent.
‘Don’t let him get you drunk, boy!’ the man, clearly still resentful of the king’s warning to Flegon, yelled across the tavern.
Arly sighed. ‘Take no notice of him.’
‘I’m not,’ Tamas said, grinning fiercely. Ham noticed that Arly had warmed quickly to the king’s charm. There was no doubting that women found him attractive. ‘He’s fleecing the stable owner,’ Tamas continued.
She shook her head gently in frustration. ‘Flegon’s been fleeced for years. We’ve watched him lose money so often he’s like a piece of the furniture in here. He doesn’t seem to care … not since his family died of the green fever. All of them, sir. Five healthy sons and a wife he was true to. He’s a broken man, but he was once a good man in the community.’
Tamas sighed. ‘Pity. Here, take a tankard of ale over to him from me.’ He tossed an extra coin onto the counter.
Arly smiled. ‘I’ll do that. Here’s your food,’ she said as the younger girl set a small linen bundle on the counter.
Hamelyn hadn’t realised how famished he was. His belly rumbled at the smell of the roasted meat wafting from the package.
‘Drink this,’ Tamas said, handing over the small tankard.
‘I don’t —’
‘Drink it. You need its sustenance. We’ll eat as we ride.’
Ham swallowed it down as instructed, his eyes watching as Tamas downed his own tankard, twice the size and twice as potent. The king smacked his lips, but not with pleasure. He gave a small belch. ‘Done?’
Ham tipped the bitter-tasting dregs into his mouth and thanked Arly again. The king simply smiled at her.
‘Safe travels,’ she called to their backs.
‘Here,’ Tamas said, handing him the largest share of bread and tearing off a hunk of the meat. ‘Get this down you.’
‘I don’t eat that much, ki— er, sir.’
Tamas smiled. ‘A growing lad needs a lot more than you think. Eat.’ He pushed the food into Ham’s hands once he’d saddled up.
They chewed silently, walking the horses out of the village and back onto the main road north.
‘Better?’
‘Much,’ Ham replied. ‘You?’
‘Food isn’t going to help the pain inside.’
Ham was glad they’d finally touched on the topic that had moved like an uncomfortable, awkward beast around them. Their fast ride had prevented conversation, but it hadn’t taken away the ugly image.
‘It was necessary,’ Ham offered.
‘And still you were shocked, surely.’
‘By its swift brutality, yes,’ he admitted. ‘Also by your courage, sire.’
‘It was easier to watch Darcelle’s body being dragged behind a horse than to see her being moved like a grotesque puppet by the demon.’
‘It was a breathtaking shot, your majesty.’
Tamas gave a mirthless bark of a laugh. ‘My best ever, I’d say. Pity I pulled it out for the execution of my betrothed and not for the Ciprean Finals in the Contest of the Realms,’ he moaned, trying to make it sound light, but it came out grief-stricken.
‘King Tamas, you have likely killed the demon and his partner. You’ve saved countless lives and the realms. Empress Florentyna will forgive you. She knows her sister was lost.’
‘Are you sure she will? I keep imagining that she held hopes that Darcelle might re-emerge as Gabe did.’
Ham shook his head. ‘I think the queen saw in Gabe and Cassien what I did.’
‘That they’re brothers?’
‘Ah, you think so too,’ Ham replied.
The king nodded. ‘The resemblance is strong. I didn’t realise I’d noticed until you mentioned their likeness, and then it made such sense. I’d probably been thinking the same the whole time we were in the chapel.’
‘I think there’s more, King Tamas.’
Tamas frowned. ‘More to them?’
‘In a way. I think there are three brothers.’
‘Three? Why would you think that? Do you know him?’
‘I know him well. He is myself.’
King Tamas was chewing but he stopped mid-mouthful. He blinked and swallowed. ‘You?’
Ham nodded. ‘I think so. I could be wrong but I doubt it. There are too many signs. I won’t bore you, sire. But I have a happy knack for being able to carry a lot of information around in my mind and bring it right upfront,’ he said, tapping his forehead, ‘at the oddest times. I’ve made the connection. I know I’m not wrong.’
‘How can it be?’
‘Magic has its part to play. But I suspect we each have our role in this fight.’
‘Yours?’
Ham shrugged. ‘I’m yet to learn.’
‘This strangeness we’re involved in just gets more tangled,’ the king moaned. ‘Shall we ride?’ he challenged.
‘After you, sire.’
Tamas tossed away the tiny knuckle of bread in his hand, slapped the reins against the flank of his horse and growled a whoop that kicked it into action. Soon they were galloping over a path that cut through the heath of the mainly deserted region of the northwest. They rode without exchanging words until the horses began to flag. Tamas gradually slowed until his beast was blowing hard but down to a measured trot. Ham had done the same, and now brought his horse alongside Tamas.
‘We’ve made good ground,’ he said, dragging in deep breaths. ‘I saw a marker for Rittylworth about a mile back. We’re just three miles east of it now. We should be there by dusk.’
‘Excellent,’ Tamas said. ‘The horses couldn’t have maintained that pace for much longer. We’ll just cool them down and keep up the trot. They’ll need some watering, but I can see a stream ahead so we’ll stop when we can.’
They trotted on. ‘I’ve been thinking, sire,’ Ham said, finally deciding to air something that had been nagging him since they left the killing fields.
‘Yes?’
‘Well, you know how a thought skims around the back of your mind? It’s there and it’s irritating but you can’t fully grab it?’
‘Of course, it’s like when you have a name on the tip of your tongue. But you just can’t say it. It’s frustrating.’
‘That’s it! And you just have to be patient until it comes back.’
The king grinned. ‘And?’
‘Well, sire, this thought was just out of my reach but I knew to let it sit, to wait for it to get bored of teasing me and that it would finally come into my mind fully.’
‘You’ve a wise head on a young body, Ham. Go on. What’s this notion of yours?’
‘It concerns your man, Wentzl, sire.’
‘Captain Wentzl? He’s a good man. He stood up to the demon well enough from what we could tell.’
‘Yes, here’s the thing, sire. I think Wentzl was one of the men I glimpsed who headed in our direction. I didn’t register that at first. It’s taken me a while to realise I recognised someone and that it was him.’
‘Really?’
‘You seem delighted.’
‘Why wouldn’t I be? A fellow Ciprean and all that?’
‘But why would he follow?’
Tamas chuckled. ‘I’ll tell you why, Hamelyn, and I’m thrilled your sharp eyes picked up that information. I’m feeling better for knowing that he didn’t head to the ship with the rest of the men.’
Ham waited, uncertain.
‘You see, only a Ciprean would have known who shot that arrow. And Captain Wentzl would have not only recognised the fletching, he would have known that shot could only have been made by me.’
‘Ah,’ Ham said, understanding. It also explained why Wentzl would have stuck with the Morgravians rather than the Ciprean soldiers.
‘Excellent, that means Wentzl — who is a brilliant tracker by the way and too loyal for his own good — can follow me. If we can rid ourselves of the Morgravian legionnaires, then Wentzl can help.’ The king surprised Ham by removing his white kerchief. He took the blade from the holder that sat neatly on the side of his leg and without pausing dug its tip into his forefinger. He wrote Rittyl in blood onto the kerchief and without saying a word tied it around the highest branch he could reach by standing up in the saddle. ‘Old Ciprean trick,’ he said, tapping his nose. ‘Wentzl will see it.’
‘Are you sure that’s wise, your majesty?’ Ham asked evenly.
‘Wise? We’ll go to Rittylworth, hopefully meet up with your companion, Cassien, and Empress Florentyna. Take a slow breath and congratulate ourselves on having rid the land of the evil that was threatening it and —’
‘It’s just that telling you that Captain Wentzl is following us is not the thought that’s been nagging me, your majesty.’
Tamas had blinked at Ham’s interruption, but now frowned. ‘What else do you have to say, then?’ he said, his tone tighter than previously.
Ham swallowed, feeling uncertain that he should share it.
‘Come on, Ham. You can’t stop a man mid-sentence with what is clearly an unpleasant idea and then leave him sweating. What is troubling you, boy?’
‘I’ll say exactly what I’m thinking, majesty, because I don’t know how to make this sound in any way easier for you to hear.’
Tamas gave him a look of sheer exasperation. ‘Say it!’
‘I’m deeply troubled that Captain Wentzl is not who he might appear, sire.’
Tamas stared at him, confused for a few moments. Then his expression relaxed into dismay, and then changed to despair. ‘You can’t be serious.’
‘I’m not very adept at jests, your majesty.’
‘What makes you say such a thing, Ham?’ Tamas said, his voice raspy with anguish. ‘I didn’t see …’
‘You didn’t see what I did, no,’ Ham said. ‘I didn’t want to believe it and I thought it happened too fast, so I pushed the notion away. But it won’t go away. You were readying your bow for its shot when Princess Darcelle briefly kissed Captain Wentzl.’ Tamas gave a keening sound, like an injured animal. ‘Darcelle was seated on her horse, speaking with the captain and was even laughing when your arrow felled her.’
‘I remember,’ Tamas groaned. ‘Wait! If Darcelle was moving, surely that means …’ His words and excitement trailed off when Ham began to shake his head. He pulled on the reins until the horse stopped.
Ham followed suit and faced the king, turning in his saddle to sigh softly. ‘Your majesty, I could be wrong, but I suspect that Cyricus is one step ahead of us. I believe he transferred into Captain Wentzl, leaving his companion, Aphra, in Princess Darcelle. Meaning that it was Aphra who perished with your arrow, not the demon himself.’
He watched as the king slid off his horse and stomped away. Tamas said nothing, approaching a tree that was one of the first to suggest they were entering a region that might loosely be termed as within the outlying reaches of the Great Forest. Ham winced as he saw Tamas punch the tree, yelling his utter desolation. He looked down and waited for what felt like an eternity before the king returned to saddle up.
‘Forgive me,’ Tamas said. ‘Well, we can’t be sure one way or the other so I suppose it’s best we proceed with caution and follow the assumption that Captain Wentzl is now possessed by Cyricus. Is that Rittylworth?’
Ham stole a glance to see the king’s knuckles were bleeding profusely. He nodded. ‘Yes, sire. Um, you may need your kerchief for your hand.’
Tamas wrenched the stained linen from the overhanging branch and wrapped it around his bleeding knuckles. ‘What are we waiting for?’ Tamas growled and kicked his horse into motion.
They arrived at the small valley in which Rittylworth sat, unaware that the hill they’d crested before directing their horses down its slope had been, only days earlier, the vantage point of the archers who had begun firing upon the guard that surrounded Empress Florentyna.
‘It’s a fine-looking monastery,’ Tamas admitted, as they approached its outlying buildings, although Ham could hear sadness in the king’s voice. ‘I hope you’re right, and that the queen is here, because I don’t think I can —’
‘She is here, your majesty,’ Ham interrupted and pointed.
Tamas looked to where figures were spilling out from the shadow of the cloisters. Amongst them was the unmistakable figure of Empress Florentyna.
‘Thank Shar’s merciful stars,’ Tamas breathed and was suddenly leaping off his horse and running towards her; and she towards him just as eagerly, it seemed.
Bemused, Ham and Cassien watched as the two royals stopped before each other, and after an awkward heartbeat of silence were suddenly hugging hard.
‘You made it!’ Ham heard Florentyna say and her voice had the shaky sound of someone relaxing from intense worry.
‘I’m lucky to have had Hamelyn for a companion. He suggested we come here. But you are a wonderful sight for sad eyes, your majesty,’ he said, taking Florentyna’s hand and kissing it, his lips lingering against her skin.
Ham looked away to where Cassien stood watching him intently. He raised a hand and the man of the Brotherhood saluted him with a hand to his heart. Ham slid off his horse and Cassien was with him in several large strides, picking him up and hugging him.
‘Brave boy, Ham. Brave, clever boy!’
When Cassien put him down, Ham could see that the other man’s eyes looked misty. He shrugged. ‘It made sense that you’d bring the queen back here.’
‘Only in your mind,’ Cassien said, grinning. ‘And in Fynch’s. He knew you’d come, urged me to journey here.’
‘Now then, who are our newest arrivals, pray tell? Ah yes, I know you, child. Hello, young Ham,’ said the monk in charge of Rittylworth.
Florentyna was smiling, still wiping away tears of relief. ‘Brother Hoolyn, may I introduce the King of Cipres, his majesty, King Tamas.’
‘Shar’s light! I think my heart is going to stop with all these shocks. Your majesty,’ Hoolyn said, bending low, as did all the monks behind him. ‘Be welcome to our humble monastery.’
Cassien bowed to Tamas as well. ‘We have a lot to discuss, majesty,’ he began and the king began to nod, but Hoolyn interrupted.
‘Firstly, eating and resting is what I insist upon. Come along, Brothers, we have mouths to feed and beds to make up for important visitors.’
Tamas was muttering about no fuss but Ham noticed how tenderly he took Florentyna’s arm and guided her behind Hoolyn.
They’d been left alone by the monks after a simple, hearty meal of chicken stewed with vegetables and aromatics from the monastery gardens. Only Brother Hoolyn had remained to hear the quartet share their news with each other.
He stood up. ‘Well, this is a tale to curl my hair … if I had any,’ he said, with a tight smile. ‘I must attend prayers now and I suspect you would appreciate some private time. If you need anything, you know where to find me, Cassien.’
Cassien nodded. ‘Thank you, Brother Hoolyn.’
They all murmured their thanks.
The old man smiled. ‘Your majesties,’ he said, bowing his head and taking his leave.
When the door closed, a silence fell like a pall around them.
‘Will you forgive me, Florentyna?’ Tamas finally asked.
She looked up from her lap, her face tear-stained, and laid a hand on his. ‘You released her. Forgive you? I worship you for making that heroic shot and giving my sister to Shar.’
Cassien wished he could give them longer to grieve. However, time was not their friend. ‘Ham, you’re sure … about what you saw?’
Ham nodded. ‘I’m sure of what I saw, yes. Whether transference occurred I cannot tell you, but my instinct says that Cyricus breathes in the form of Captain Wentzl.’
Tamas gave a sound of disgust. ‘I’ll kill him too,’ he offered.
‘I think you and Ham should rest,’ Cassien said. ‘Meet back here; one of the Brothers will fetch you. The repose will be brief, but it is necessary for you.’
Hamelyn couldn’t sleep. He was tired, but the sensation of letting go and drifting into unconscious rest eluded him. Cassien had insisted he put his head down in the small dormitory that Brother Hoolyn had provided, and he’d obeyed mainly to ease Cassien’s anxiety. He lay on the cot, staring at a spot on the wall, playing a game he knew from the orphanage, making pictures out of stains on the walls and the ceiling, or from clouds or spilled water.
He cocked his head to wonder what the stain on the wall looked like. His eyes felt suddenly drowsy and the stain began to shift, rolling and changing until he could clearly make out the head of a wolf.
Hamelyn?
Am I dreaming?
The king comes, the wolf said and Hamelyn watched the stain shift its shape again. This time it turned into the head of a dragon.
Ham blinked, trying to shake the drowsiness that had overcome him. When he focused again, standing before him was a man, shimmering in a mist. Behind him Ham could see forest, and an enormous wolf was sitting by the man’s side.
‘Master Fynch. I am glad to see you again,’ he said, and sensed a great warmth infusing him. ‘Thank you for visiting me here.’
‘I have so much to say to you, Hamelyn, and plenty has passed since our first meeting in Orkyld. However, time is against us. You have a very big and dangerous task ahead. I am sure you have worked out that you are brother to Cassien and Gabriel.’
Ham nodded.
‘Yes, I knew you would with that smart mind of yours. It will be up to you to keep your brothers safe.’
‘I’m not sure I have the —’
‘Listen to me, Hamelyn. Your eldest brother has skills beyond even my imagining for creating stories, images, scenes. He is a scrivener of sorts, although he uses his mind to bring his stories to life. He has no need for the quill. He can place people involved in his stories wherever he wants them.’
Ham frowned. ‘What is his role?’
‘He can call up and tap into wherever and whatever he wants. We’re only interested in the Void, which is where Cyricus must go and where Cassien will await him.’
‘And Cassien?’
‘If Gabe is the creative brother, Cassien is brawn. He is powerful, his mind is impenetrable. He will be the one who will fight Cyricus and if it’s possible, he will destroy him.’
‘What is my role?’
‘Gabe is the creator, Cassien is the fighter … you, child, you are the power. Your mind can wrap itself around anything. Trust yourself. Trust your ideas.’
‘What is in the Void that might tempt the demon?’
‘Nothing. That is our biggest hurdle. We must get him into the Void in order to have any chance at destroying him once and for all. But, he has experienced the Void and will have no desire to return to it. You must enrage him, taunt him, trick him back to it.’
Ham saw the wolf stand. It nudged Fynch’s hand.
‘I must go now, child. Forgive me, this has taken a lot of my strength to reach you.’
‘I have questions, Master Fynch.’
‘I know, Hamelyn. We will meet if the Triad succeeds … and I will have answers to those questions for you.’ He smiled and the figures blurred into the mist and disappeared, leaving behind a stain on the wall that resembled nothing.
Ham was wide awake and his mind was already reaching, teasing at an idea.
They drank a thin broth quietly together in a small room near the kitchens. Brother Hoolyn had insisted, and seen to it, that the monks gave their quartet a wide berth.
‘Did you sleep, Ham?’ Florentyna enquired.
‘Yes, your majesty. I feel much rested,’ he lied.
‘Do we have a plan?’ Tamas asked into the gloom. He looked around at them with frustration in his eyes.
Cassien spoke up. ‘King Tamas, facing Cyricus is something that we now acknowledge is what Gabe, Ham and myself were brought together for. You have done your bit, your majesty: you’ve rid us of Aphra,’ he said, glancing at the queen with apology in his expression, ‘and now it’s up to us to rid Morgravia of Cyricus.’ He paused. ‘Ham and I have things we must discuss.’
Florentyna nodded, understood what he was asking. ‘Come on, Tamas, walk with me. I need some air.’
Tamas frowned. ‘It’s cold, your majesty, you risk —’
She gave him a wry smile. ‘I have a cloak,’ she said and gave him a hard look.
He stood, seeming to understand that the brothers needed privacy. ‘It would be an honour,’ he said, offering an arm.