Whispers Of Peace And War

23 - Epilogue

23 - Epilogue

Mythrd received a cuff around the ear from his father and then a strong embrace as soon as things appeared to calm down. Soon, several fires lit the clearing and everyone settled down for an uneasy night. The Norweed pasted logs became a ring around the makeshift camp, in case any remaining Traal still roamed the area and the bodies of those dead Traal were moved to a distance away. The bodies of the dead Gaeradine, however, were set in lines at the outskirts of the new camp.

For the rest of the night, Mythrd tried to sleep but could not close his eyes for long. After much tossing and turning, he rose and moved to the three monoliths at the centre of Cythrûn Henge, where he took the time to read the carvings upon all the great stones once again, aided by the sight of the Aura.

"Have we made a difference here?" As Mythrd reached the Protector's Monolith, Gythryn joined him. She ran a hand over the carvings. "Or have we only postponed the inevitable war?"

"I don't know. I'd like to think we've passed the crossroads, moved on to a better path, together, but ... I just don't know." He looked to his best friend. She had changed much in the last few days, yet he knew now she still remained the Gythryn he knew. "What do you think?"

Gythryn said nothing for a short while. Her hand continued to trace the carvings upon the surface of the stone. At first, she scowled, her mind running through the possibilities of the future, then her face softened and she smiled. Snaking an arm across Mythrd's shoulders, she tugged him close.

"I think ... I think it's up to people better suited to this sort of thing than us, now. Like you say, we can only hope. I can't say I wasn't looking forward to a fight, but I'm glad we didn't have to." Her hand squeezed his shoulder. "We have other things to think about. We need to restore faith in the Guardians. Restore the other standing stones. That means we need more people to come to the Guardians."

With the help of the Aura, Mythrd noticed another figure coming to join them. He recognised the outline of Agarang straight away and the three of them looked between each other. Mythrd could hardly believe less than a week had passed since the day they had found Agarang, injured, close to death. He, too, had changed in the past few days.

"I heard mention of recruiting more people to faith in the Guardians?" With his hands clasped behind his back, Agarang looked up at the monolith beside them. "It has already begun. I have spoken to some of my people within Father's company. There is ... interest. Only a seed, but it is there. The Mistress of the Oceans has neglected my people to their detriment."

"Speaking of your father, how goes it?" Gythryn had watched, as had Mythrd, as Agarang had sat with his father, exchanging venomous words. "He seemed unlikely to embrace the peace."

"Ah. My Father." Laughing, Agarang's hand rose to his side, his injury twinging. "He is old, stubborn, proud, set in his ways, but he is not stupid. Once his anger dies down, his lust for battle, I will talk to him some more. He knows our people suffer and, despite his bluff, he loves them."

Mythrd nodded. He understood that. Abbot Llwnthrn had surprised him by listening to his words, but she had spent time with them, in the circle of stones. Perhaps some of what Kaninzir had said to her had pushed past her anger at the death of her brother? She had hated the Gaeradine as much as any, yet she had organised food for them, barged through and among them, checking their health.

He doubted she would ever lose that anger, but she had controlled it for the possibility of peace between the two peoples. Juraang had not had the benefit of Kaninzir's words. The serenity that the standing stones gave even during the most troubling of circumstances. The feeling of safety emanated from the stones. The feeling of belonging to something.

Together, Mythrd, Gythryn and Agarang sat upon the ground, discussing the various aspects of the Guardians, the duties of Priests, Stewards and Protectors, the future and the rebuilding of a faith. They talked until light filtered through low-hanging clouds as dawn approached and continued to talk as others began to wake. They had much to discuss.

-+-

Three days later, with the Gaeradine now fed and rested, the sound of pounding horses hooves broke the silence within the clearing. A large compliment of Iibarish soldiers entered the clearing, causing panic among the Gaeradine. Only the calming words of Kaninzir stopped the two sides from coming to blows.

Hrndrd had returned. Leading a force of one hundred soldiers, he had thought he would find only dead people. Mythrd could see the surprise in his eyes as Kaninzir explained the events of a few nights before. Showing great restraint, he stood down the Iibarish soldiers, ordering them to rest at the other end of the clearing as he reviewed the situation.

"I have orders from the King to take this Gaeradine to the capital." He indicated Agarang with a gloved hand. "Though I don't know what to do about these prisoners."

"They aren't prisoners." Once again, Mythrd could not hold himself back from entering a conversation. "They chose to lower their weapons. They are free to leave whenever they wish. Look, I know what it sounds like, but they have been treated well by the villagers. Fed, talked to, come to understandings. We're not so different from them. If they return to the Esservold, they'll take those tales of kindness with them."

"And what good are tales?" Narrowing his eyes, Hrndrd considered Mythrd's words.

"It shows that even among enemies, there can be peace." Stepping forward, Agarang placed a hand on Mythrd's shoulder. "March with them north, towards the Gydrld Hills. Let them go with as much food as you can find and spare and those tales will spread among the armies across the border in the Esservold. Peace without a drop of blood falling. Is it not worth trying? And if my brothers and sisters still insist on war, you have wasted nothing but spare food and a little time."

Mythrd knew Hrndrd as a fair man. He had listened before and Mythrd knew he would listen now. The fate of the entire island rested in his hands. The fate of two peoples. His eyes passed across the Gaeradine soldiers as they milled about. He could see they posed no threat. Then his eyes fell upon the still bound Juraang.

"And him? He looks like a prisoner." Hrndrd locked eyes with Juraang, but Mythrd could see Agarang's father held little of the fire he had before.

"He will take a little more persuading, but, I think, he is coming around to the idea." Smiling, Agarang shared a look with Mythrd. He had spent many hours talking to his father. "He can come with me to the capital. As my prisoner, not yours. It will look better in the eyes of my kin."

"I'll keep him in line, if he tries to escape." Cracking her knuckles, Gythryn winked towards Juraang. He had become boisterous a couple of nights before and she had put him in his place. "Besides, I'm a Protector. It's my job to watch over the Priests and Stewards. And I doubt Mythrd will let Agarang go alone to the capital."

"Priests, Stewards and Protectors." Hrndrd looked at each of them as he said those words. "Very well. We can at least try, I suppose."

Finally, after many years of anticipating going to the capital, it appeared Mythrd would get there after all. Not as a recruit for the army, but as a Steward of the Guardians. He didn't know whether he and his friends had prevented a war, but they had stopped the bloodshed here, at Cythrûn Henge.

A week before, he would never have imagined the path his life would take. Now, he could see no other path. Only a future where he, Gythryn and Agarang tried to spread the faith in the Guardians. Where they would try to bring together the Iibarish and Gaeradine, making them all one people of the island.

The next day, as they sat upon horses, ready to ride forth and return the Gaeradine soldiers to the Esservold, Mythrd saw Kaninzir standing far away. From this distance, with a squint of the eyes, Mythrd could imagine the old Priest could do a fair impression of the Father of the Green. Though the old man had no branch horns upon his head.

Chuckling to himself, he gathered the reins in his hands, worrying about riding once again. As he looked up once more, Kaninzir had disappeared. He did that a lot.

(If you enjoyed this story, please check out the other stories in this series, either by searching for the tag, #PatronsWorld, or through this reading list: https://www.wattpad.com/list/1544232111)