Brothers in Arms; the re-awakening

Kitti was sitting under a tree practicing her lyre, Jac watching her from a discreet distance. Why can’t I talk to her properly, he thought despairingly; every time I try I just sound gruff and rude and arrogant and uncaring; yet there is something about her that draws me, that calls to me and cannot be defied, something sweet and kind and gentle; I cannot take my eyes away from her, not for one moment.

Then Kitti looked up and saw him watching her; she smiled back at him and he stepped back in confusion. Just a reserved, quiet smile, perhaps, to anyone else who might have been watching, he reckoned; to him, though, it was like the sun bursting out from behind a cloud, a kite soaring up into the sky. She added a brightness, a lustre, the sparkle of diamonds to everything she touched. I have never known this, he thought, to love someone fiercely, yet tenderly, sweetly, gently, softly; a woman like a jewel, all light, all silver, without shadows, skin like velvet, eyes of jade, golden in the morning light, her smile as bright and full of promise as the dawn.

Each night he’d go to sleep whispering her name, “Kitti, Kitti, Kitti...“, as naturally as breathing in and out, though softly in case the others should hear him. If she’d only let him, he’d tell her ten times, a hundred times each day how much he loved her. He imagined her stroking his hair and kissing him on the cheek, her lips light and gentle as a flower, like the grace of a bird in flight; and she would be smiling, the summer stars shining in her eyes.

He took a deep breath, offered a little silent prayer, steeled himself and walked towards her. Hearing his footfall, she looked up. To his surprise she smiled again in greeting, as if she was genuinely glad to see him.

“Do you like my home?” he said, sitting beside her and trying as hard as he could to keep the curtness out of his tone. She shifted to make room for him.

“It’s beautiful; the meadows, the trees, the river - just like Ethan said you described it,” she said, setting down her lute. Jac wondered for a brief and uncertain moment if anything else about him had been discussed.

“Is your room comfortable?” he asked, still struggling for words.

“Too much so,” she answered, “I’ve had no experience of such comfort – and warmth. Your father has been very kind to me, Rose treats me like a big sister, and your mother - ,” she stopped for a time, thinking, “I only wish I had had a mother like that, a home like this.”

“I would wish my home to be your home,” he said, crushingly aware how gauche and unsophisticated he must sound, but Kitti did not laugh; instead she regarded him gravely.

“You must have been very much loved,” she said.

“I suppose so,” he said, “And I took it for granted, until I had to leave - I missed them very much all the time I was away, I know that.”

“All I’ve ever known is hard beds and cold hearths, rejection and denial – this still seems very strange to me,” said Kitti.

“Kitti,” said Jac, the gentle words pouring out at last, his heart settling softly upon his sleeve, “Please hear me now, for I have often wished to say these things to you, only I could not find the right words; I am truly sorry that I offended you before – it was the last thing I would have wished, and I truly did not mean to. I - I am not used to revealing my feelings, but I think of you as a diamond; a gift, a sparkle, a shining light without shadows; a radiance lit just for me, the brightest thing I have ever seen. I like you so very much, you must know that.”

“Yes, Jac, I know that,” she said with a sudden laugh, “But, listen, your father is calling us,” and she stood, lifted her lute, and walked quickly away towards the house.

Jac looked after her, slightly bemused, but with a feeling that this time things might not have gone so badly, after all. Then he saw Ethan and Donal watching him from the verandah, and he blushed when he received a wave from the amused pair.

“Terribly sorry to disturb you, old chap, but this is no time for fooling around,” shouted Ethan, with a huge grin on his face, “Come on inside, young fella, we’ve serious business to discuss.”

When Jac came in he found the whole company assembled, Kyram standing by the hearth and Ethan lounging on the most comfortable chair, swigging from a large tumbler with an air of extreme contentment. Donal sat against the far wall, close to a bay window where he could look out and see right down the valley, always more alert and watchful than his friend, yet again Jac was struck by how

utterly different yet still utterly alike the two men were. Ethan was brash and forward, Donal was reserved and studied, yet both had an inner force that was obvious to even the most casual observer.

Sosannah was seated comfortably on a rug close to the fire, Kitti sitting next to her with Ros huddled snug and cosy as a mouse in between them, Kitti absently curling the little girl’s hair in her right hand. Targon was resting on a stool behind them, obviously very happy to see Kitti so at ease.

Kyram was speaking, his face and tone very grave, but after the conversation outside, Jac had great difficulty concentrating on what he was talking about, in spite of his awareness of the importance of the subject. Her unconscious elegance, the shyness of her beauty, her grace and loneliness and vulnerability, her long slender fingers, her green eyes flecked with sea-grey, dancing even in the room-dimmed sunlight. He gazed at her, and for a moment their eyes met; again that shy smile, that promise of warmth, of a loving soul waiting for him to unlock it’s sweetness and it’s light, and he felt an almost physical ache of longing to take her in his arms and hold her and kiss her softly on the lips and tell her how very deeply he loved her, and how much he desired to sweep away all the hardship and loss she had suffered in her short, harsh life.

She nodded briefly, imperceptibly, and put a quick admonishing finger to her lips as if to say, “Hush now, don’t be looking at me like that, you should be paying attention to what is being said here,” and with an effort he wrenched his gaze away and began to listen to his father.

Kyram had been recounting what he had discussed with Donal and Ethan the previous night. That their host was none other than the legendary abdicated Seneschal was astonishing news to Kitti and Targon.

“If we’d known we were travelling with royalty we would have been much more respectful,” said Kitti.

“As I’m sure you understand, it is was never my wish to mislead you. I did not believe my father would wish his former title to be known”, said Jac, “and I thought it should be up to him to reveal his true standing. And anyway, he is not royalty; in truth, he is much better than royalty,” he said proudly, “for the title of Seneschal is no empty and worthless heirloom, but an honour he earned by his own courage and valour.”

“Ethan and I already know of Kyram’s authority, and of his reasons, right or wrong, for reneging on his responsibilities”, said Donal bluntly, “But we still have not heard the full story from Kitti and Targon. I would hear more about the Brotherhood, and about the man who summoned Ethan and I, and for what purpose we were summoned, and the source of this Jewel which has caused us so much trouble.”

“I can tell you of the Brotherhood,” said Kyram, “They were an ancient order of wise men and scholars, sworn to use their skills and wisdom to uphold freedom and free choice. For hundreds and hundreds of years they were valued allies of the Free Nations and stood with us shoulder to shoulder against the assaults and the schemes and the spites of the Inquisitors. But like our armies and our spirit, they had fallen into a severe decline, and indeed, not all citizens of the Free Nations were sorry to see them reduced to such a parlous state; many of our more progressive thinkers considered them an anachronism, an archaic and useless throwback to a time of superstition and myth. Even I had some doubts; much of the old magic seemed to me capricious and wilful, as likely to harm us as help us. almost impossible to control and predict.”

“Your misgivings were all too well-founded,” said Kitti, sharing a wry smile with Targon at this shrewd observation.

“Nevertheless,” continued Kyram, “when, during my tenure as Seneschal, it was said the Brotherhood had died out altogether, and all it’s priceless knowledge with it, I was deeply grieved, as I thought it meant that yet another defence against the Mfecane had been irretrievably lost, yet another weapon blunted and useless. That Kitti and Targon are it’s agents are the first evidence I have had since then that it remains alive and active, and that news, despite all the dark tidings we have suffered to hear, at least serves to give me some fresh hope.”

“And almost the only evidence you will ever have, I fear,” said Kitti, “So do not as yet raise your hopes too high purely on our behalf. For so far as I am aware we are the Brotherhood’s only agents, and Targon and I were recruited only a few weeks ago, by the last surviving member of the Brotherhood.”

“And how did that happen?” asked Ethan.

“We were performing in a tavern in Resvor, on the Western Sea. One night while Targon was mind-searching the crowd, he sensed a powerful impulse of interest. After the performance we were approached and recruited.”

She told the story of their meeting and their trip to the Keeper’s Island. The others listened raptly, Kyram nodding gravely as he recognized various aspects of the story, and Donal’s eyes lighting up with interest when Kitti spoke about her meeting with the Silkies.

“We also knew well of the legends of the Silkies; they were said to inhabit our western coasts and islands, and to be a gentle folk and of great help to sailors in need,” said the Irishman, “There was even said to be Silkie blood in my own family, going back many years; my mother’s clan came from the islands of the furthest west and were fishing folk, and it was said that because of their Silkie blood, noneof them would ever drown. Although my Uncle Paudge sailed off one day to fish the southern banks, never to return.”

“If he’s anything like you, it wasn’t drowning, it’s because he was running off with a woman,” said Ethan.

“I myself was born with a caul, which was an omen of great good fortune and also said to be a protection against drowning and death at sea,” added Donal.

“Indeed you are not unlike the Silkies”, said Targon, “You share some of their features, but more importantly, you share their aura.”

“And he always seems to smell of seaweed as well,” said Ethan, “I can’t wait to see what you’re like in the water, big fella, you’ll swim like a fish, I guess; you drink like one anyway.”

“The Silkies are a people of great magical power and deeply versed in earth lore,” said Targon, “And they also are suffering greatly from the predations of the Inquisitors. In some foul way they are influencing the storms and the ocean currents, and the seas themselves are slowly becoming poisoned and rife with monsters and all manner of fell creatures. The Silkies do not know how to stop it; they know only it’s source, but they have no power nor influence on land. It was their leader who gave the Keeper the Jewel, who needed it for your summoning. The Keeper in turn gave it to us; we needed it to communicate with him - but we did not know the Mfecane would desire it so greatly and be able to track it so fiercely and skilfully, so much so it was almost our downfall.”

“At least that is one problem we can solve now,” said Kyram, “Since we arrived in Home Valley I have learned the skills of working with stone, and I can make you a small stone pouch so that you can carry the gem without danger of it being detected.”

“But it ain’t much help if we can’t use it, is it? Why not just leave it here with Kyram?” asked Ethan.

“It is still very valuable and an object of deep reverence to the Silkies,” answered Targon, “and communicating over great distances was only one of it’s many uses. It was needed for your summoning, and it may continue to have much significance in the trials and ordeals to come. We must bring it back with us, and return it to it’s rightful owners; it was only leant to us, remember, and it is not ours to keep.”

Kitti continued the account of their trip to the island and of how the Keeper had explained what he wanted from them.

“The imbalance of force has become too extreme, he told us,” she said, “The Inquisitors are now too strong to be militarily defeated; not only are their armies powerful but their mastery of the arcane forces is becoming ever greater. Their control of certain creatures, like shrikes, is particularly strong, and we have seen that they may also be able to influence the weather; a very powerful weapon if they use it astutely, which they undoubtedly will. But there is much more to tell; the

Keeper surmised these grave dangers many years ago and at that time also he attempted a summoning. But, as Kyram has all too rightly said, the magic needed is wild and random, and at that time the spell went terribly, terribly wrong; instead of summoning a warrior to help our cause, a dark force was called, a dark knight who instead of helping us, joined the ranks of the Inquisitors; and it was this dark knight who invested the Mfecane and brought an even greater vigour and even

greater malevolence and brutality to the actions and the strategies of the Inquisitors. After such a disaster, the summons was judged too perilous and fey to try again for many years, but eventually the Keeper felt that events had at last reached a point of such absolute and utter despair that the chance simply had to be taken again, the alternative being inevitable defeat and subjugation and slavery under the terror of the Mfecane.

“And again this time the result was unexpected, and even more surprising; Donal surely, was the “”Brave Heart” which the magic demanded, but Ethan was summoned across as well, though whether for good or ill we do not know as yet.”

“Pretty good so far, I should think,” said Jac.

“Hey,” said Ethan good-naturedly, “It’s lucky I’m not easily offended or sensitive or anything like that. How do you know I’m not this Braveheart guy they’re talking about, instead of some sort of optional extra?”

He meant it as a joke, but to his surprise the others did not laugh, and took his suggestion very seriously.

“Ethan could well be right,” said Jac, frowning, “Although he is admittedly not a trained soldier, Donal is slowly and painstakingly rectifying that part of his education, and he surely is as strong as a ox. His spear is also a mighty and formidable weapon, and one destined to slay more than shrikes, I would guess; it must be of some deep mystic import that we do not yet understand.”

“I do not agree,” said Kyram, “Doughty warrior though Ethan undoubtedly is, the prophecy might suggest that Donal was indeed the true target of the summoning”.

He reached up to a shelf and retrieved the ancient book Ethan and Donal had seen him studying the previous night.

“Although the prophecy says far more than just that,” he said. He began to read;

“Black and darkling scarred worlds rending

Harsh and lost and fey the sending

Three strands bright to ward the ending;

One the Warrior, brave heart grey eyes defying

Two the laughing killer tears weeping crying

Third the healing hand rage-hardened slaying

But one shall fall, as love will conquer all.”

“Oh yeah, right,” said Ethan, “So I’m the laughing killer - well I ain’t laughing – damned thing doesn’t even rhyme very well, and I sure don’t like that bit about “one shall fall”. And which one? Jac, Donal or me?”

Jac had gone silent, his face pale, as the implications of the prophecy began to sink in.

“And I’m in there as well,” he whispered to himself; then, almost instantly, he brightened and laughed aloud, “And in such exalted company too. Remember, Donal, at the Standing Stone, you were suspicious that I had turned up at exactly the same time as yourselves. Well, now we know why - the magic was summoning me as well, even if in a much less theatrical manner,” he whooped with delight, “Ethan, Donal and I - the very stuff of legends, that’s what we are! Who wants to live forever!”

“Yeah,” said Ethan, “We’re a regular three musketeers, ain’t we?”

“Being a legend may not bring happiness,” said Jac’s mother worriedly, “Your father and I just wanted an ordinary life for you; instead we have made things worse. Sending you to become a healer has simply placed you in the eye of the storm, compelled you to become part of this dread prophecy.”

“Let’s face it, ma’am,” said Ethan, “This kid is going to get into trouble wherever he goes; healer or soldier, he’d be in there kicking and screaming. They’d have had to change the darned prophecy just to suit him; maybe even rewrite the whole goddamn thing.”

“Thank you Ethan,” said Jac, “I’m sure you consider that to be some form of compliment.”

“Did the Keeper know of this prophecy?” Kyram asked Kitti.

“If he did he did not speak of it to us,” she answered, “He told us only to look for the warrior. He said we should know him by his great size and his unusual garb; so you can understand our confusion when we found not only one, but two big men in strange clothes.”

“How did you track us down?” asked Donal.

“The Keeper knew you would be summoned to the most southerly Stone; there was no time for us to get there, even with the Silkies speeding us back to shore, so we intended to try to pick up your trail as soon as we could. We hoped you would meet someone friendly who would at least direct you north, rather than south into danger and the arms of the Inquisitors; obviously you were even luckier, or the

summoning magic was even more potent and wild than we had expected, for it instead provided you with a most skilled and capable guide,” she smiled at Jac, who smiled back, flushing with pleasure and embarrassment.

“And he’s quite a good-lookin’ young fella too,” said Ethan, “Ain’t that right, Kitti?”

“The Keeper asked us to bring you to him,” Kitti continued, ignoring Ethan, “He says he has a great deed to ask of you, but he says you must freely agree to it and that because of that he must ask you himself so that he can explain fully the dangers you will face and the desperate need we have. But I am quite bewildered; now so many other strands have entered the situation, and what seemed simple at first becomes more and more complicated. Jac, Ethan, the Spear, Kyram, the prophecy; I know not what to suggest or advise, but I would guess that the Keeper should know of these many developments. All I can do is ask on his behalf, and both Targon and I judged him to be both wise and trustworthy; will you come with us, Donal? Will you, Ethan, and you, Jac, come with us to the Keeper’s Island, there to plan the end of the Mfecane and the downfall of the Inquisitors?”

When she had finished, there was silence for a time, and Sosanna took the opportunity to replenish their glasses with spiced wine, Ethan again taking a full tankard. Little Rose helped her, though she spilled more than she poured, and the others laughed, breaking the tension of the moment.

“Don’t have any beer down on the farm, do you?” said Ethan, looking at his already emptied tankard speculatively and offering it for a refill.

“Only if you feel like a hundred mile journey over the mountains to the nearest village to fetch some,” said Jac.

“A hundred miles for a beer? You must be joking; where do you think we are? Canada?” snorted Ethan. “Next time we come to this joint,” he continued, addressing Donal, “we’ll be bringing a couple of six-packs with us, maybe a few kegs as well.”

Kyram spoke; “So now we have learned of the different roads that have brought you all here. The question now is clear; what road will lead you away? I do not need to ask my son, I know; I can see by the delight in his eyes that I would have to lock him in a cupboard to prevent his going. But Donal and Ethan, you are older and less impulsive; what will you do, and do you have any real choice?”

“We will always have the choice, Kyram,” said Donal, “We are free men and whatever path we take will be of our own choosing.”

“But how many real choices do you have?” insisted Kyram. “It is not my intention, nor, I am certain, that of the Brotherhood, to compel you in any way, even if we had the power to do so. But I can assure you that the Inquisitors will have no such scruples. They clearly wish to dominate you and enlist you to their cause. If they do not achieve this purpose they will instead try to bring you down in ruin, and they will not rest until their evil design is achieved. So you may choose to hide from them, or choose to oppose and try to end them – but either road will prove long and dangerous.”

“Let me get this straight; we can’t just buy a little beach-front property and sit back and drink beer and play a little poker, watch sports on TV, go for a swim now and then and enjoy the sun,” said Ethan, “now why am I not surprised to hear that?”