Whistler [A sequel to The Chronicles of Hawklan] Page 4

  Vredech thought for a moment. Dark, half-formed fears were wrestling with his concern for Cassraw and, all too aware that he was mimicking Mueran, he looked around the group in an attempt to assess the consensus. Though he could see faces in the dim light, however, he could read no expressions. And, disturbingly, all eyes were turned into deep black sockets.

  'A little way,’ he decided. ‘But move carefully, and keep together.'

  And the group was off again, moving hesitantly through the eerie light.

  'I wonder what it could be,’ Morem mused out loud.

  'It's Ishryth's will.'

  Vredech turned to the speaker. It was Laffran. To his horror, a violent urge bubbled up within him to curse at Laffran for his stupidity. They were on this wretched and now dangerous trail because of Cassraw's ridiculous superstition, and they wanted none of their own to confuse their judgement. The thought was almost heretical, but it was the force of his anger that shocked him and he turned away from Laffran sharply. ‘All things are Ishryth's will,’ he muttered.

  'Thus let it be,’ he heard Laffran responding.

  Vredech lifted a hand to his forehead. He felt as though he were suffocating. Judgement Day. The words returned to him again and this time refused to leave him.

  'Are you all right?’ Morem's voice was anxious.

  'Yes,’ he replied as casually as he could manage. ‘Just a little shaky. Not as fit as I thought I was.’ But deep inside him something was turning and heaving, like vomit.

  Then he saw them...

  Shadows.

  He froze.

  They were moving towards him, black against the unnatural darkness.

  Weaving...

  Swaying...

  * * *

  Chapter 4

  Vredech stood motionless, paralysed by the conflict between the primitive terror welling up within him and the promptings of his rational mind telling him that what he was seeing was some strange optical illusion. He must be suffering a trick of the senses brought about by the unfamiliar exertion of clambering up the mountain in this bizarre, disturbing light.

  He rubbed his arm across his eyes. The gesture should have been comforting but it felt alien and unnatural, as if the arm was not his any more, but some empty shell. And there was worse. He drew in a sharp breath. In the momentary, private gloom behind his closed eyes, where he had sought shelter, the shadows were there also; dancing, at once seductive and repellent, through the dull lights and patterns that hovered there. He opened his eyes in terror. He could feel the cold mountain air filling his chest but it did nothing to restore him. The shadows were still there. They were both beyond and within him, and all sense of normality was gone.

  Yet still his reason clung on. Were these something real, or was he indeed suffering from some form of mountain sickness? He should turn to his companions and speak to them, ask them what they thought was happening; ask them what they could see. But he could not. He was unable to move, unable to cry out...

  The shadows suddenly closed about him.

  In the darkness that was not darkness and the now that was not now, a clamour of voices cascaded through Vredech. Voices full of hope rekindled, of an appalling fate avoided. Voices raised in raucous thanksgiving.

  But there was no glory in the sound ... if sound it was. It was more the gloating triumph of barbarian warriors revelling in the slaughter of a weaker foe. No! It was worse even than that. It was something primeval. Something out of the darkest reaches of the human mind. Something from a time before humanity was humanity.

  Something to shrivel the mind of even the most depraved.

  Under the impact of this revelation, Vredech lashed out, searching for some anchor that might hold him sane and whole amid this horror. Prayer came to him.

  Ishryth protect me.

  The words formed silently in the darkness.

  The tumult did not so much falter as change character at the sounding of this slight clarion. It took on a jagged, unreal quality. Vredech became vaguely aware of his own breathing, shallow and fearful. It focused his awareness still further.

  'What is this?'

  Vredech felt the question rather than heard it, though its utterance was cold and awful, the very essence of the terrible celebration that hung now in the background.

  Then the darkness was passing through him, searching. There were hints of sudden doubt and fear in it. And a burgeoning, terrifying rage. Yet, all too human though these emotions were, there was a quality in them such as could not be sounded by any ordinary measure. Through his growing terror, Vredech sensed his hands trying to move, trying to rise up and protect him from some sudden and unexpected attack. But nothing could prevail against what held him now. Into the silence another prayer came to him, a prayer of denunciation. He roared it into the darkness.

  'Leave me, Ahmral's spawn! Leave me!'

  It echoed futilely about him, inconsequential beyond reckoning. And yet, around its tiny impact something formed.

  A dark amusement?

  Then ... relief?

  And, abruptly, he was dismissed. He was less than nothing. The merest mote.

  Briefly the doubt returned, chilling Vredech utterly.

  And he was dismissed again.

  He was falling. Plummeting into the darkness.

  'Vredech! Vredech!'

  Voices all about him broke into the darkness and buoyed him up. As did arms wrapped about him.

  Vredech's eyes opened on to the lesser darkness that was pervading the mountain. It seemed almost dazzling, so stark was the contrast with ... wherever he had been.

  'Vredech, what's the matter? Are you all right?’ The voice restored him further. It was Horld's, as were the powerful arms holding him. He realized that his fellow Brother was sustaining his entire weight. He willed his legs to support him.

  'I'm sorry,’ he mumbled, his voice strange in his own ears.

  'Are you all right?’ the question came again.

  He nodded and gently unwound Horld's arms from about himself. ‘Did you see that, hear that?’ he asked, looking round at his companions.

  'See what? Hear what?'

  'The shadows. That terrible sound. That presence. His voice faded as normality settled further about him. There was an awkward silence.

  'I only saw you suddenly wave your arms then start to collapse,’ Horld said, looking at him anxiously. ‘You've probably been walking too fast. You're not as fit as ...'

  'No,’ Vredech interrupted, stepping away from him and gazing intently into the gloom. ‘There was something here ... shadows, moving. You must have seen them!’ He put his hand to his head. ‘And something worse. Something ... alive. And awful. And it was in my mind as well.'

  Morem took his arm gently. ‘I think we'd better head back, Vred,’ he said, though the remark was addressed to the others. ‘There were no shadows, or anything else. All we saw was Horld grabbing you.'

  Vredech wanted to argue. He might not be the man he was but he was fitter than all of them here, save perhaps Horld, and he hadn't suffered some hallucination brought on by exhaustion. Ishryth knows, he'd walked the mountains often enough! And he had seen what he had seen, heard what he had heard. Worse, he could still feel inside him a lingering after-shadow of the fearful presence that had touched him. It was all he could do to avoid shuddering. Yet he had been too long a member of the Chapter not to be able to stand apart from himself and view his conduct as it would be seen by his companions, with all that that implied. Obviously what had happened had happened to him alone, and if he persisted in questioning the others about it then they would assume, not unreasonably, that he was raving. Infected perhaps in some way by his contact with Cassraw. This little expedition would have to be abandoned and another arranged, which must inevitably involve the Witness House servants or the novices, and which would thus find its way down into the town gossip where Cassraw's spectacular flight would be lavishly embellished with tales of his own apparent derangement. It was unlikely to cost him
his place in the Chapter, but it would undermine his authority there and, by the same token, increase that of Mueran and the other timeservers. This was not in the best interests of the church. And as for what the Sheeters would make of it...

  That settled it. Whatever strangeness had just touched him must be left for later consideration. Now he must attend to the matter in hand.

  'I'm sorry,’ he said, affecting a heartiness that he certainly did not feel. ‘It was just a little dizziness.’ He nodded towards Horld. ‘You're probably right. I was walking too fast and fretting about Cassraw, and all in this awful light. I'm fine now. Let's press on a little further.'

  Horld grunted non-committally. Vredech was certain that had the light been better he would have seen doubt written all over the tall man's face, so he avoided the risk of any further debate by striding out purposefully. The hasty scuffling from behind told him that his immediate problem was over; his decisive action had ended any further interrogation and ensured the continuation of the search. Though the questions set in train by what had just happened were clamouring frantically for attention, he somehow forced them to one side. He was on the Ervrin Mallos, in the dark, looking for his demented friend, in the company of none too robust a team of walkers. He must remain alert, watch and listen for any signs of Cassraw or distress amongst his companions and, not least, he reminded himself, watch his every footstep. Carelessness here could see him pitched over some crag, thereby enabling him to learn the answer to some of life's great mysteries the hard way. The notion made him smile to himself despite his concerns.

  'Not so fast, Vred,’ came a reproachful cry from behind. He turned to see his companions some way back, dim figures struggling through the gloom. Reaching out, he rested his hand on a nearby rock. Its cold damp touch felt reassuring. It was here, now, and so was he. He felt lighter.

  'Sorry,’ he shouted back. ‘Must have got my second wind.'

  There were complaints when everyone finally caught up.

  'We should have gone back for some lanterns ...'

  'And more help ...'

  Vredech looked up at the clouds before replying. The dull, wavering yellow light still pervaded them. It had a sickly hue and it illuminated little, but at least it kept total darkness at bay. For a brief, dizzying moment he felt that he was looking not up, but down: down into some terrible pit, into the very eye of whatever it was that had touched him. He jerked his attention back to his companions.

  'I don't know,’ he admitted. ‘We've come a long way and there's just about enough light to carry on with if we're careful. I'm loath to turn back without making a little more of an effort to find Cassraw. He could be in desperate straits by now.'

  There was a brief silence.

  'Someone's got to find him, sooner or later,’ Morem said eventually.

  Horld was looking up at the faintly glimmering clouds. ‘That's not a happy sight,’ he said. ‘I'd dearly like to know what's causing it. I've never seen the like, ever.'

  'None of us have,’ Vredech ventured. ‘But light is light. We should use it while we can.'

  'And if it goes out?'

  Laffran's cold query silenced the group again for a moment. Vredech waited, deliberately saying nothing.

  Horld shook his head. ‘It won't go out,’ he declared. ‘Whatever's causing it, it's too vast to be turned on and off like a Meeting House lamp. No, it won't go out.'

  There was a hint of the practical man's contempt in his voice and Laffran bridled. ‘And if these clouds choose to empty their load on us? Rain, snow, wind—what then?’ he demanded. ‘It's getting colder, you might have noticed.'

  'Then we'll get wetter and colder,’ Horld countered, speaking with wilful slowness.

  The two held one another in brotherly esteem, as was fitting for men in their position, but there was little affection wasted between them and Chapter meetings were not infrequently enlivened by their petty arguments. Vredech intervened hastily before one developed here. ‘To Ishryth's lawn then,’ he said, half-suggestion, half-instruction. ‘It's not far now. We can review our position there.'

  Ishryth's lawn was a gently sloping grassy area where many walkers chose to pause and rest before venturing on the final rocky scramble to the summit. It was sheltered and very pleasant and, given the right weather, offered splendid panoramas of Canol Madreth's mountains.

  Laffran and Horld seemed to have no great heart for continuing their argument and, no one objecting to this compromise, the party set off again. Vredech, still strangely buoyed up, paced himself more carefully this time.

  As Horld had observed, the light from above showed no signs of diminishing, though it continued to vary in intensity, pulsing slowly and erratically to some indefinable rhythm. Few of the walkers chose to look up at it however, ostensibly being more concerned with watching where they were putting their feet. As they walked on, it grew colder. Not the sharp coldness of a winter frost, but a clinging, damp unpleasantness.

  Vredech looked about him at the familiar landscape now made alien. Night in day, a graveyard chill and the whole lit by a light that came from neither sun nor moon, but was...? The word diseased came to mind but he abandoned it immediately and, reproaching himself for allowing his mind to wander, turned his attention back to where he was walking.

  Then, after a slithering and alarming clamber up a narrow gulley down which a small stream was still running, they were walking on to Ishryth's lawn.

  'It's brighter,’ Morem said in some surprise.

  'It's probably because we've just come out of the gulley,’ Horld said, though more gently than he would have addressed such a remark to Laffran.

  'Either way, it's no pleasanter,’ Vredech said. There was a unanimous nodding of heads from the eight dark-shadowed forms as they each looked around at the soft green grass now rendered dull and lifeless by the touch of the eerie cloudlight.

  Motioning his companions to remain where they were, Vredech moved across the clearing towards a rocky edge which he knew would give him a view out over the valley. Only when he reached it did he realize that he was hoping to see Troidmallos far below, its lights shining up to him like tiny welcoming beacons. The town must surely be alive with lights by now, if this vast bank of clouds had moved so far as to cover the peak of the mountain. But there was nothing. Just an impenetrable darkness. There was not even the faint greyness of daylight seeping through to show the edge of the clouds where they had arched over the mountain.

  Nothing.

  Just blackness.

  And silence. No faint murmur of sounds from the valley below, no occasional bird cry, no breeze.

  Nothing.

  It was as if the world had ended and he and his companions were alone in an endless, empty void.

  Vredech did shudder this time. Partly because of the increasing cold, partly from some deeper need. He wanted to pray again, but he steeled himself against the urge. It's just freak weather conditions, he forced himself to think. That's all. I'm not some superstitious savage who retreats into mindless ritual when faced with the unknown. I use the mind that Ishryth gave me. I think. I learn. I strive to fathom his mysteries.

  It was true. But it didn't stop him from shuddering again.

  The others began to join him. They stood arrayed around him, gazing out into the darkness. There was a little foot-stamping and arm-beating, but it gradually faded away.

  'It's frightening.'

  Morem's simple admission made Vredech feel slightly ashamed.

  'Yes,’ he said. ‘It is. I suppose we'll just have to be grateful that we're not in the thick of a blizzard or a thunderstorm.'

  'Yet,’ Laffran added. His slightly sour tone made Vredech smile.

  'Now,’ he said, turning his back on the emptiness and facing his companions, ‘in case the weather has any more surprises for us we'd better decide what to do next. I don't want to leave without a determined search for Cassraw, but the ground's much steeper and rougher from here on and there's precious little in the wa
y of a clearly marked path. We could miss him easily enough and we could end up in difficulties ourselves. And I'm concerned about the temperature.'

  'What was Cassraw wearing?’ someone asked.

  Vredech grimaced. There were no real choices ahead after all. ‘Just what he stormed out of the Debating Hall in. No top coat, cloak, nothing.'

  'Then some of us will have to go on,’ Horld announced. ‘The darkness is a bad enough problem, but if it keeps on getting colder then Cassraw's soon going to be in very serious trouble, tough though he is.'

  'You're right,’ Vredech said. He looked at the group, wishing that he could see their faces, read their thoughts. ‘While there's still some visibility we'll have to go on.'

  'I don't think I can go much further,’ Morem confessed. ‘That gulley was quite a struggle.'

  'We'll split up,’ Vredech said, laying a reassuring hand on his shoulder. ‘Horld and I still have some wind left. We'll go on to the summit. The rest of you stay here and try to keep warm. Listen for any sound of Cassraw coming back in case we miss him.'

  There was no dissent.

  'Are you all right?’ Horld said softly as they moved away from the group and began cautiously working their way over the shattered rocks that would lead them to the summit.

  'I'm fine,’ Vredech said. ‘Not happy, not warm and not comfortable, but fine for all that.'

  Horld grunted. ‘That was a very strange turn you had before,’ he said.

  'It's a strange day,’ Vredech replied evasively.

  'There's no denying that,’ Horld agreed. ‘What do you think happened to Cassraw to send him off like that?'

  Vredech shrugged his shoulders unhappily. He did not want to discuss Cassraw's behaviour. Indeed, he did not want to discuss anything. Once his thoughts started to run he was far from certain that he would be able to contain them. It was only the physical discipline involved in struggling over the rocks in the darkness that was keeping a torment of his own at bay. But still, he must reply.