14
With no sign of Traal or Gaeradine, it fell to Mythrd to gather more wood for the fire. He didn't want to move too far from the stone circle, afraid of what may await him away from its protection. Skirting the edge of the forest, his eyes scoured the undergrowth for fallen branches. Somewhere, out in these woods, the Traal slumbered once again, disinclined to move during the daylight hours.
But, they had moved, called by a whistle from the Gaeradine trackers who, even during the fog of the morning, had found the standing stones of Cythrûn Henge. His efforts to disguise their movements and lead any trackers away had proven fruitless. As had Kaninzir's. The old Priest had told him he would cover his mess, but even the old man had failed to keep the Gaeradine from the stones.
That caused Mythrd great concern. If one set of trackers had found the henge, then he didn't doubt that more would find their way there, too. Looking back to the henge, he wondered how much the power of the standing stones, and the Guardians, could hold off any concerted effort by the Gaeradine to retrieve their errant comrade, Agarang.
"I just wish I understood things better." He didn't speak to anyone in particular, his voice kept low, addressing the trees and the air. "It's all so confusing."
"As is the way of all things." Not for the first time, Kaninzir's sudden appearance made Mythrd jump, dropping the wood in his hands. The old man crouched, picking up the wood and and handing it back to Mythrd. "I wish I could say things ever became clear, but they don't. Not really."
"How do you do that? Appear and disappear like a ghost?" Scowling at the old man, Mythrd bent to pick up the wood, himself. "Is it a gift from the Guardians?"
"No!" Chuckling, Kaninzir lifted a blanket of the nearby undergrowth, revealing a good, thick broken tree limb. "It is a gift of saving my own neck in a forest all my life. I feel that you have doubts. This is good. One should always have doubts. Blind faith only leads to bumping into things."
It was as though Kaninzir had listened in to Mythrd's private thoughts. He had seen the power of the Guardians. Experienced it and felt it. He couldn't doubt they existed, but he doubted that the stones could protect Agarang. Not for another few days. He feared events would take a dark turn long before Hrndrd returned, or the army.
"It's just ... if the stones' protection is as powerful as they seem, how did the Gaeradine destroy the other circles, in the Esservold?" He turned his eyes from the old man, feeling as though he insulted him and the Guardians by voicing his fears. "We are so few and untrained. I don't want to die. I don't want Gythryn, or Agarang, or anyone to die. I ... I'm afraid."
The old man had dragged the thick branch from beneath the vines and weeds that covered the ground within the forest, pulling it to drop upon the ground of the clearing. It seemed a strong piece of wood and the old man tapped it with his staff, rolling it to look at the bottom side.
"This branch was once part of a tree, yes? Strong. Your father would have taken several swings of his axe to break it, no doubt." The old man spoke of Mythrd's father as though he knew him, but Mythrd had never seen Kaninzir before coming to the henge. "But it is old. Separated from the tree, it has lost its greatest strength. Now, one swing of an axe could cut it in two. Less than that, if it is rotted on the inside."
Raising his staff in the air, gripped in both hands, his eyes bulging, Kaninzir slapped the tip onto the branch that he had found. With a crack, the butt of the staff crashed into the wood and penetrated deep into the branch. A fissure appeared in the wood, spreading from the point where the staff had hit. Kaninzir wiggled the staff, breaking the wood apart, revealing a damp, rotted interior.
The old man raised an eyebrow towards Mythrd, before crouching down, examining the wood that had looked as though it would have made good firewood. Now, seeing the inside, he knew it would only cause the fire to sputter and spark, make clouds of cloying smoke rise from the dwindled flames.
"Are you saying that the stone circles are like that wood?" Taking a closer look, Mythrd could see grubs and larvae infesting the inside of the broken branch. "That they were separated from the Guardians and lost their strength? That's why they could become torn down?"
"Not the Guardians, boy, no. Think." Sighing, Kaninzir lifted a long, bony, arthritic finger, tapping Mythrd's forehead. "The Guardians, like the Patrons, are eternal. Their strength never dies, but what do Patrons crave and demand and the Guardians hope and ask for? You know the answer."
Mythrd frowned. It was easy enough for Kaninzir to say this, but Mythrd had only heard of the Guardians in tales of legend before meeting the old Priest. Before experiencing the Aura, seeing the protection that the stones gave and the revelation of the writing upon the stones, Mythrd didn't even know if the Guardians actually existed.
Only after meeting Kaninzir and experiencing the power of the stones had he come to accept the existence of the Guardians. Everything else had come after that. The Aura, the dream, Gythryn seeing the Aura herself and Agarang seeing the writing upon the stones. All of this came after they had arrived at Cythrûn Henge. Kaninzir's green eyes glittered as he waited for Mythrd to finish his thoughts.
"People. The strength comes from people!" It all seemed so clear, Mythrd couldn't believe he hadn't thought of it earlier. "The Patrons, they demand worship because our belief is their strength. But, the Guardians, they don't demand anything. They wait and hope!"
"As the people turned away from the Guardians, tempted by the aggressive, insinuating nature of the Patrons and their Priests, they left the stones behind. Forgot them." With a hand on Mythrd's shoulder, Kaninzir turned him back towards the henge. "The power of the stones is not infinite, nor is it unassailable. These stones still have power because I still have faith. When the other Priests, Protectors and Stewards grew old and died, the stones lost the last people that held faith in the Guardians."
"You say the power of the stones isn't unassailable? Does that mean the protection might fail?" Mythrd imagined hordes of Gaeradine falling upon the henge, slaughtering everyone within. It made his spine shiver. "Even now that Gythryn and I believe?"
Kaninzir leaned upon his staff, he looked older than ever. Ancient and tired. Mythrd had noticed, but thought nothing of it. The old man didn't seem to sleep often and he had gone off on his own several times, seeming to walk a great distance, before returning. He still had a spry energy to him, but the lines upon his face appeared deeper. His eyes, however, still burned with mischievous life.
"The protection can be overwhelmed or, with a little sneakiness, bypassed. I have tried to hold everything back, but it is a long time since I have exerted myself so and I am old. So old." The bushy eyebrows fell across the old man's eyes for a second, and his mouth moved with its chewing action, before Kaninzir stood upright, brightening. "But I'm not dead. Not yet! Oh, no!"
Looking down, Kaninzir kicked the shattered branch to the side with a sandalled foot. Looking back to the tree line, he squinted, staring at the undergrowth before letting out a loud 'aha!'. A few feet to the side of where he had found the rotten branch that had appeared solid, the old man pushed aside weeds and vines with his staff, before leaning down.
He pulled another log from the undergrowth, almost the same size as the previous one. Dropping it to the ground, Mythrd couldn't understand why the old man looked so happy about it. This log looked on the outside how the other log appeared on the inside. Damp and rotted. Worthless. With a little skip to his step, Kaninzir gave a laugh, raising his staff in both hands as he had done so before.
This time, he brought the butt down onto the ugly looking log with a resounding thud and the butt of the staff stopped. The thud had sounded solid and hard. Kaninzir gave Mythrd a wave, inviting him across, and they both crouched beside the log. The old man pulled a knife from somewhere and began scraping the rotted wood from the surface, revealing a good, strong wood beneath.
"It's like the opposite of the other." Mythrd picked at some of the rotted bark, revealing more of the wood. "This is a lesson, too, isn't it?"
"There are hidden depths to everything. Bad things that look good." Kaninzir's knife sliced through the air, passing in front of Mythrd's nose to point at the rotten log. Then the knife pointed at the log before them. "Good things that look bad. Sometimes the outside shows the truth of the inside, sometimes the outside hides the truth inside. Knowing which is which? Now, that is the hard part."
For some reason, Mythrd's thoughts turned to Agarang, with his Gaeradine war paint upon his face, but, underneath, had professed that he wanted peace between Iibarish and Gaeradine peoples. He also thought of Abbot Llwnthrn, of her respectable exterior, but with a fury beneath that could cause her to treat Gythryn with such cruelty.
He wasn't certain if Kaninzir had meant those two with his lesson, but Mythrd thought it appropriate.
-+-
Upon returning to the three large monoliths, Mythrd saw a number of things. Abbot Llwnthrn sat alone, organising the saddlebags Mythrd and Gythryn had retrieved from the dead. The blankets were now arranged around the camp fire, ready for use once night fell again. The Abbot glanced towards Mythrd and all but ignored Kaninzir.
Gythryn stood before the third monolith, practicing movements she had seen in the carvings, using her new sword. She appeared to have far greater control over the new weapon, but still seemed to find it frustrating. She stopped every so often, gazing at the carvings, before starting her pattern of movements again.
Agarang stood, unmoving, his arm still clutching his ribs. He finished reading the words upon the second monolith and then his eyes raised to to the top of the tall stone as he started to read the words once more. Mythrd felt a little guilt pass through him. Upon learning he could now read the words upon the stones, he had shied away from finding out what the stones said. Even the words upon the first monolith that had first caught his interest.
Dropping the firewood, he had collected, onto the remaining wood that Kaninzir had brought, he watched as the old man strode towards Agarang, placing a hand on the Gaeradine's shoulder and talking. Mythrd couldn't hear what the old man said, but Agarang nodded more than once before the old man moved on to do the same for Gythryn.
"He's doing it again. Charging children with the work of adults." Abbot Llwnthrn thrust a water skin into Mythrd's hand and a handful of crumbling cheese and hard biscuits into the other. "He never learns and others always pay the price."
"You keep doing that." Still feeling intense dislike for the Abbot, after her beating of Gythryn, Mythrd, nevertheless, accepted the food and water. He sat upon one of the blankets, looking up to the Abbot, who stared at Kaninzir. "You keep saying things, but never explaining what you say, as though we should just accept whatever you say without question. I think those days are far behind us now."
With effort, Llwnthrn pulled her eyes away from Kaninzir and, as they fell upon Mythrd, her look softened. Mythrd didn't know whether to worry even more at that more human look. To him, the Abbot had always appeared as a stern, angry authority. There to obey her every command. Only the Constable commanded anywhere near as much respect from the villagers.
"You could never understand." She looked at him with such pity, Mythrd almost scrambled backwards, expecting her cane to appear from nowhere to swat him atop his head. "You are only a child."
"I'm not a child! Neither is Gythryn! We have reached age, and we are no longer children. Especially not after what we have seen." He stopped himself from throwing the cheese and biscuits in his fit of anger, then took a bite from the cheese, chewing as though his life depended on it. "If you have something to say about Kaninzir, say it. Don't hide behind hidden meanings and half-spoken secrets!"
A glance showed him that his words had hurt the Abbot, her mouth opened as though to snap some threat of the Patrons' wrath back at him, but she closed it again. Folding her ochre robes beneath her, she sat on another, nearby blanket, her legs tucked to the side. After a couple of aborted starts, she turned to speak.
"You are not the first to fall into his web." She looked from the side of her eyes towards Kaninzir and then back to Mythrd. "Others have fallen for his lies, in the past, and have paid a heavy price."
"If you want to help me, to make it so that I have an informed decision, you must speak plainly, Abbot." He saw Kaninzir, stood beside Gythryn, turn towards him and the Abbot. The old man had a sly smile on his face, before it brightened and he continued speaking with Mythrd's friend. "I have made no decision yet. I don't even think I've been given a choice."
"Oh, you've been given a choice, alright. Only it's been given to you in an insidious manner." The Abbot inched closer, lowering her voice, even though no-one else stood close enough to hear. "He has planted the seeds of doubt in your mind, allowed them to grow and fester. He has pushed you in directions that he needs you to go, all so that his blasphemous 'Guardians' will hold sway over your impressionable mind."
Mythrd could see how things could look that way. He didn't doubt that Kaninzir had made him clean the monoliths for a reason, to reveal them to him and Gythryn and, it seemed, to Agarang. Mythrd was not educated, but he wasn't stupid, either. He knew that all Kaninzir's talk of the Guardians and the stones, and about the Priests, Stewards and Protectors were to recruit people to those roles.
Only, Kaninzir had not once mentioned Mythrd having that choice. When Gythryn had mentioned becoming the Protector of the stones, Kaninzir had rebuffed her, telling her to wait before making that decision. That didn't seem insidious to Mythrd. That seemed like someone wanting another to make that choice when they had thought about it long and hard. As the old man had said, a lack of patience had led to another acting in haste.
"Who was it?" Now, he thought he had come to understand something. The Abbot's objections seemed far too emotional to come from a place of caution. "Something happened to someone you once knew, didn't it? Something involving Kaninzir."
The Abbot sprung to her feet, her grey eyes ablaze with fury. Before Mythrd could even move, she had dived towards the pile of firewood, grabbing a thin, strong-looking branch. She raised it above her head, about to bring it down upon Mythrd, much as she had done with her cane against Gythryn. He didn't even raise his hands to protect himself, only glaring up to her, daring her to strike him.
The blow did not come. The Abbot blinked at Mythrd's defiant features and she looked around her. To one side, Agarang had turned, looking with interest at the commotion by the camp fire. To the other side, Kaninzir and Gythryn had stopped their discussion. Lowering the branch, the Abbot tossed it back onto the pile and turned, readying to walk away.
"I'm sorry. I should return to the village. The people need me." Her hands rose to her hair, tightening her bun, then brushed down the skirts of her dress, distracted. "I have no place here."
Mythrd didn't know why, but he jumped to his feet, catching the Abbot's wrist and stopping her from leaving. She didn't give any resistance, only standing there, head drooped as she looked anywhere but towards him, or any of the others. She still towered above him, but it felt as though she had become so small.
"Abbot, please, tell me. Tell me what happened." Mythrd could see the others coming closer. He saw Gythryn's questioning look and, more importantly, Kaninzir's nod. "Tell us all."
The Abbot raised her head to see everyone stood near her, now. Her gaze lingered upon Kaninzir, but he said nothing to her, gave her no indication that she should, or shouldn't say anything. As always, the old man leaned upon his staff, giving the Abbot the freedom to speak or not. Mythrd knew that was no indication of whether Kaninzir did, or didn't, have anything to hide. He gave nothing of his thoughts away.
"I had a brother, once, a twin." The Abbot raised her head to the sky, smiling to herself. A private smile. "We were much like you and Gythryn. Young, adventurous, excited and fascinated with everything. One day, we found a party of injured travellers, attacked by cutthroats and we brought them here. The closest place we could find. And we found him."
The words came out like venom spat by a snake. The anger returned to her eyes and her fingernails dug into Mythrd's hand. He didn't let her go, however. Instead, he placed his other hand atop hers and gave it a comforting squeeze. The Abbot turned away from Kaninzir, looking at Mythrd as though she had forgotten he were there.
"You found Kaninzir, as Gythryn and I found him?" He tried to keep the Abbot's eyes upon him. The sight of the old man threatened to bring the Abbot to a rage every time she looked at him.
"I ... yes. He spoke gossamer words about 'Guardians' and 'love' and 'choice' and my brother, Llwnthrd, and I listened and became fascinated. I listened to his words and thought myself capable of becoming Steward for these stones." Her free hand swept out, indicating the monoliths and the two outer rings of stones. "Llwnthrd fancied himself a champion, wishing to become Protector of the stones. It all seemed so worthy and honourable."
Kaninzir, not seeming to care that his mere presence could send the Abbot back into her fury, stepped forward, making slow nods of the head. Thudding his staff into the ground, he looked up into Llwnthrn's eyes, continuing to nod and chew nothing. He interlocked his fingers around his staff.
"Finish it. Tell them it all." The old man didn't flinch as Abbot Llwnthrn's face bloomed red.
"Until my brother died." Again, Llwnthrn's fingers tightened upon Mythrd's hand. "Until he killed Llwnthrd!"