Ibryen

Chapter 16-3

He made a signal for silence as Rachyl reached them. She seemed to have set aside her irritation at the Traveller’s previous manner but Ibryen recognized the mood and knew that matters had only been postponed. ‘We’ve several choices when we get to the top,’ she said. ‘Have you any idea which way we’re going to go?’

‘No.’ The two men spoke simultaneously. Ibryen motioned the Traveller to move on alone.

‘Are you all right?’ he asked Rachyl when the Traveller was well in front of them.

‘Yes,’ Rachyl replied with an edge to her voice that said quite the opposite.

Ibryen spoke straight to what he took to be the heart of her concern. ‘He’s very strange,’ he said. ‘The more so to us because we’ve had to force ourselves into a very conservative way of living just in order to survive. But you don’t need me to remind you there are many strange things in this world.’

‘That strange?’ Rachyl said, glancing significantly at the retreating figure ahead of them.

Ibryen could not forbear smiling at her manner, but her question had to be addressed. ‘You’ve not forgotten the Gevethen already, have you?’ he replied, equally significantly. ‘The way they speak now, their mannerisms, their ability to sway people — or terrify them. And that business with the mirrors. Vanity we thought at first, if you remember — a foolish but harmless affectation. A trio of servants carrying decorated glasses, and two eccentric advisers making sly glances at them, then later, openly preening and posturing before them.’ His eyes widened at the memory. ‘And look what that turned into.’ He trailed off into an awkward silence which neither of them seemed to know how to end.

Eventually Rachyl said, ‘You’re right, of course. We don’t forget, we just don’t bother remembering. It’s too disturbing. But when you squeeze several years into a few words, it’s all there again, isn’t it? The horrific unreality of it all.’ She looked up at the Traveller, now on the lightening skyline. ‘He’s still strange, but at least he seems to be human.’

Ibryen reached out and stopped her. He looked into her face. ‘The Gevethen are human enough,’ he said. ‘Only creatures like us, permanently in thrall to the darker side of their natures, could do what they do. They’re in all of us. That’s why they frighten us. Sicken us.’

Rachyl held his gaze, but her face was again unreadable. In the end it was Ibryen who turned away. Waving towards the Traveller, he began walking again, reiterating the Traveller’s own remarks. ‘We’re probably very strange and frightening to him. He doesn’t avoid people for no reason presumably. We should try to remember that. And as for what he’s doing, or why, all we can do is judge him by his deeds, and try to understand him while he tries to understand us.’

Rachyl’s hand moved unconsciously to a knife in her belt. ‘It’s difficult. One minute I take him for a sprightly little old man, the next — I don’t know. When I think of what he did to Hynard and me, and the things he talks about, I feel quite afraid of him. Then...’ She was surprised. ‘...it’s almost as if he were my own age. Vigorous and strong.’ She stopped uncomfortably.

‘By his deeds, Rachyl,’ Ibryen repeated. ‘I’ve trusted him this far because he’s had ample opportunity to do us all great harm and he hasn’t taken it. I’ll continue trusting him for the time being, but not to the point of foolishness. Not to a point beyond reason.’

‘And you think trailing after mysterious... noises... that only you can hear, isn’t beyond reason, isn’t illogical?’

The bluntness of this sudden question shook Ibryen. He saw the Traveller, a considerable way above them now, stop. Somewhat to his own surprise, he answered immediately. ‘It’s not illogical for me, because whatever’s pulling at me is as real as the air around us. I know it makes no sense to you and that you’re just trusting me, and too, that it’s taking a toll. But judge me by my deeds as well. And whilst we might be searching for something that doesn’t exist — a mirage — the reason why we’re going — the strategy, Rachyl — none of that’s beyond reason, is it? Looking for another way, unsettling the Gevethen by doing nothing. The least we’ll gain, all of us, up here and back down in the valley, is a breaking of our rutted thoughts — a re-examining of what we think we already know. And perhaps somewhere in that will be the tiny thing that’ll change our direction.’

As the stark question had shaken Ibryen, so his answer silenced Rachyl and they did not speak again until they reached the waiting Traveller. ‘Do you want to rest again?’ he asked Ibryen.

The Count shook his head. ‘No. I’ll be fine now. I’m getting my climbing legs back. Let’s get to the top and decide which way to go from there.’

The weather continued to ease, occasional strips of blue sky appearing through the thinning cloud. A breeze was blowing as they reached the top of the rise. As Rachyl had said, several alternatives now faced them, for the far side of the rise dropped down into a valley while on either flank, hulking peaks shouldered down towards them.

Rachyl, first to the top, authoritatively directed the others to one side so that they would not appear against the skyline. ‘There’s no one about,’ the Traveller protested. Rachyl looked at him and then motioned him to follow her. He gave Ibryen an arch look as he obeyed. Ibryen sat down and closed his eyes. The call was still there, but it was different.

Rachyl led the Traveller around a small outcrop towards a pile of tumbled rocks. As they drew near she placed her hands on his shoulders so that he could only move where she dictated. Finally, she pushed him almost to his knees and then the two of them were peering around the edge of a boulder. Her hand was pointing. ‘Those two peaks,’ she said, whispering as though they might be overheard. ‘The most northerly of this region and the nearest to Dirynhald. The Gevethen regularly post small companies of troops on them, just to watch. The passes being the way they are, almost certainly there’ll be some there now, and their seeing stones are as good as ours.’ She sneered. ‘I understand they call them their elite, though we have no difficulty killing them from time to time when they’re being particularly troublesome. But we never underestimate them, nor forget them, nor the fact that they also send small scouting parties and even individuals looking for us.’ Pressure on the Traveller’s shoulders emphasized these points. Now a powerful hand came to rest on his neck. It exerted no pressure, but it was quite resolute. ‘You must understand. Any serious hint of where the village is and the Gevethen will bring their every resource against us. We’ll not survive such an attack, and who can say what horror the Gevethen will go on to without the fear of the Count at their backs?’ The grip became more forceful and Rachyl’s voice even softer. ‘You may know a great deal about mountains and all manner of things, but I know these mountains and the particular dangers we face here. Ibryen has his own concerns at the moment, which I won’t pretend to understand. I’ve got just one — to make sure that he, and the village, come to no harm. If you do anything to jeopardize either, then notwithstanding his protection, I’ll kill you before you can purse your lips to whistle. Do you understand?’ With what limited movement he was allowed, the Traveller nodded. ‘Good. Don’t dispute with me again in such matters,’ Rachyl concluded, releasing him and slapping him on the shoulder with ominous heartiness.

‘Quite a sophisticated communicator,’ the Traveller confided as he returned to Ibryen.

‘Oh yes,’ the Count replied, having deduced the possible nature of the conversation from Rachyl’s posture as she led the Traveller away. ‘She can explain things very well at times.’ He bent close and lowered his voice. ‘I should have impressed it on you more seriously before. Listen to what she says very carefully; she tends to mean what she says, and she’s a very dangerous person.’

The Traveller gave a slight gesture that inferred both acknowledgement and dismissal, then asked, ‘Which way?’

Ibryen looked at him for a moment, concerned that perhaps he had not fully appreciated the significance of the advice he had just been given, then he held out a tentative hand. The route would carry them into the valley on the far side of the rise they had just climbed. The Traveller nodded. ‘Yes, I think so too. But the sounds I can hear are getting weaker. Are you sure?’

Ibryen grimaced. ‘As I can be,’ he said. ‘But something’s changing. Something’s happening. It’s going beyond.’ Pain filled his face. ‘We must hurry.’