Heartwood (12 page)

“‘For thousands of millennia the Great War raged, and gradually over time some of the elementals became stronger than the others. Fire and air were weakest, and before long their subjugation was complete. They were forced to remain in their purest form, existing only as the breeze in the sky and the flames of the fire that warmed.

“‘The battle between earth and water continued for much longer. Eventually, however, earth won.

“‘The earth elementals bonded, took shape. They became the rocks and the trees and the things that walked upon them – they formed the beasts of the earth and the flora they ate.'”

Nitesco looked up for a moment and glanced around the room. Chonrad took the opportunity to look around too. Everyone's face showed the same emotions he himself was experiencing: fascination, confusion, denial.

Nitesco swallowed before he continued reading. “‘Most of the earth elementals in these lands have forgotten they were spirits at all. And maybe that is not a bad thing, for the time spent in the Void was a time of misery, but our time in Anguis is a time of happiness. And so we live our lives without the knowledge of the Great Wars, and of our greatest enemies, the water elementals. They are forced to remain bound by the constraints we earth elementals imposed upon them. They churn and seethe at the edges of our existence… But they do not forget. And we must not forget either that they are always planning to take over us earthly beings and condemn the universe to be made of only a single element: water.'”

Nitesco stopped and looked up at the room. For a moment there was deathly silence. Then, everyone started speaking at once.

“What is he suggesting; we are these earth elementals?”

“I have not heard anything like this before, have you?”

“Time in the Void? The Great Wars? It is just a story to frighten children...!”

“And yet it does make a certain sense,” murmured Chonrad to himself. He watched the others around the room. Tempers were flaring – the Militis were angry that Nitesco was suggesting Oculus was wrong; he knew they were frightened there was some truth in his words. The Libraris said nothing but merely stood there, resting his hands on the pages; still, his face showed his alarm. He had anticipated this reaction, but it was one thing to imagine people's anger and another to actually experience it.

Chonrad stood and held up his hands. People gradually quieted as they saw him about to speak. “My friends,” he said, catching the eye of those he knew and smiling at those he did not. “I understand why this story sounds so incredible. It
is
like a tale we tell our children, of fearsome creatures that come out of the sea at night to take you away if you are bad. But we must not let our beliefs and our prejudices cloud the truth.” He gestured towards the
Quercetum
. “I do not know if this is but a story, or if it is true. All I do know is I saw something amazing yesterday, something I cannot explain, and Nitesco here is offering me an explanation. As incredible as it is, I believe we should at least consider it – because we have nothing else to go on.”

He looked across at Procella. Her cheek muscles were pronounced and he sensed she was clenching her teeth. Her back was rigidly straight and she emanated disapproval and anger at the blasphemy that one of her own had uttered. She looked over at him and met his gaze and, as she looked into his eyes, her posture softened and her antagonism melted a little. He smiled. He could sense her fear that everything she knew, everything her life had been based on, was a lie, and felt sorry her faith was being tested in this way. But still, wasn't the truth more important than any one religious teaching?

Around the room, people were gradually starting to agree with him. The anger had dampened after he had said they had little else to go on. He could hear their comments: “Well, how else do you explain the water warriors…?”, “It is incredible but nobody else is offering a solution…”, “I wonder what else the book says?”

Beata was one of the few Militis who didn't seem angry at the revelation. “As most of you know, I came upon one of the water warriors in the Domus,” she announced to the room. “I was able to inspect him. It was clear to me he was not like us – his form was different, and his eyes burned like green fire in their sockets. It is obvious these are supernatural creatures. We all saw them disappear into the water. We have to accept the explanation for their presence is not going to seem logical.”

To Chonrad's surprise, it was Grimbeald, the only Wulfian lord in the room, who nodded agreement and stood up to speak. “I would like to say something,” he said in faltering Laxonian.

 

III

Grimbeald stood in front of the people in the Capitulum. It was a brave thing to do, thought Chonrad; he knew he wasn't among friends and yet he was still prepared to voice his opinions and make himself heard. The Wulfian lord drew himself up to his full height – some several inches shorter than Chonrad – and lifted his head proudly, shaking his mane of thick brown hair.

“As you know, I am from Wulfengar,” he began. “I have been a follower of Exerceo Animism all my life. I was brought up to worship the Arbor, and I have been sound in my faith all these years.

“However, I have also attended the University of Ornestan, at which the learned people of our land discuss our religion and contemplate the most basic Questions of existence – who is Animus, what is the purpose of the Arbor, and how and why are we here?”

There were subtle murmurings around the room, which Chonrad listened to with amusement. Obviously there were many people who had not thought the Wulfian lord to be educated.

“I sat through the lectures and discussions on my faith,” continued Grimbeald, “and I learned I must keep my mind open, for religion is but a matter of interpretation of the facts, and if we do not have the correct facts then our interpretation will also be wrong. Therefore I would like to hear more of what your young Libraris has to say, and after I have heard all, I will then make my judgement.”

Most people were nodding around the room, the newfound admiration for Grimbeald clear on their faces.

Valens stood and approached the Wulfian lord. “You speak wise words, my friend. It is difficult for us here at Heartwood to remain objective about Animus and the Arbor because it is such a great part of our lives. I think I speak for all the Militis when I say I feel uncomfortable hearing stories that contradict what I have spent my whole life believing and fighting for. But I like to think my heart is large enough to admit I might have been wrong, and to be open to new ideas. What happened here yesterday cannot be swept under the rug; we cannot ignore such a challenge to our fundamental ideas about our religion. If we do we are foolish and it makes a mockery of our faith. So I, too, would like Nitesco to continue. And after he has finished, I suppose we will all have made up our minds.”

Nitesco nodded, taking a deep, relieved breath as Valens and Grimbeald sat down. “I think the lords speak wisely,” he said. “I believe there is information in here that will help us understand what has been happening, both yesterday with the water warriors, and in general with the failing of our land. I will carry on reading from the
Quercetum
.”

He turned the page over, the crackle of the parchment loud in the silence of the room. “This chapter is called ‘The Darkwater Lords',” he explained. “This appears to be the name given to the beings that attacked us yesterday.”

Nitesco continued to read. “‘The Darkwater Lords are spirits who exist in the watery realms out in the oceans. Nobody has ever been able to visit these realms, but it is thought vast cities and whole civilisations exist beneath the waves.

“‘As such the Darkwater Lords have no form, but long, long ago, when the Great War had only just ended and the world as we know it was only just forming, there is a story that a group of water spirits forced some earth spirits to give them shape, and they were able to come onto the land and walk upon the ground. They were banished once the Arbor took root, but it must be noted that should the Veriditas fail and the energies cease to flow, it is conceivable that once again the Darkwater Lords may learn to walk among us.'”

Nitesco paused and looked up at the room. A chill went through Chonrad. The Libraris's words implied this was what had occurred – the Veriditas had failed. Somehow, the energy the ceremony raised in the Arbor was not being relayed to the rest of the land, and that must be why, he thought, they were experiencing so many problems with famines and pestilence.

Nitesco cleared his throat, turned the page and continued to read. “‘The importance of the flow of energy throughout the lands cannot be overemphasised. The health and strength of the land and its people are directly related to the energy flow from the Arbor.'” Nitesco was becoming more animated, and he waved his hand at the group now as he said, “Now listen to this. ‘The Arbor is the conduit through which the love of Animus passes, drawn through the Pectoris, which is our connection to the Creator, at the centre of the tree. The Arbor directs the energy to all four corners of the lands by channelling it down through its roots and along the energy channels which run beneath the earth. However it must be made clear the Arbor is not solely responsible for the flow – the major arteries from the Arbor run to the five Nodes, which continue to conduct the energy through smaller veins so it reaches all parts of the land.'”

He turned the page over, his eyes flicking briefly around the room before continuing. “‘The maintenance of the Nodes is of paramount importance – this cannot be stressed enough. The Nodes must be cleansed on a regular basis to remove any residual dark energy and allow the light energy to continue to flow.
Failure to do this will result in failure of the land
.'” Nitesco's final sentence rang around the Capitulum like a warning bell.

There were gasps from around the room. Everywhere people were shocked into standing, wanting to express their confused emotions.

“Can this be true?” asked Valens, his hands on his hips. “It sounds like lunacy.”

Procella was laughing. “What and where are these five Nodes? We could go searching for them for months and find out it has all been a figment of someone's imagination.”

Another Militis gestured towards the
Quercetum
on the lectern. “We should burn the book and turn our attention to facts, not fiction.”

Grimbeald stood then and bellowed, “And what answers do you have for what happened to us yesterday? How can you explain these mysterious Darkwater Lords except by using the information we have just been given?” The other voices gradually fell silent. Procella set her jaw stubbornly but had no reply. Valens just frowned.

Grimbeald turned to face the room. “I have heard rumours about these ‘arteries' of energy running beneath the land. There are supposed to be places throughout Anguis where natural energies can be felt, if you are sensitive to such things.”

“So now you believe in mystics and wizards?” laughed Kenweard of Frennon, his dislike of the Wulfian lord evident. Chonrad's eyes narrowed – it was not a good time to be pouring scorn on each other.

But Grimbeald did not rise to the bait. “I believe there are many things I do not know,” he said calmly. “And I am willing to listen to other people's opinions. Can you make such a statement?”

Chonrad stood as Kenweard opened his mouth to retort. “I think what you say is wise, Lord of the Highlands,” he said, stepping in front of Kenweard.

The Lord of Frennon, however, was not going to stand back so easily. “You are not High Lord of Laxony yet,” he snapped, reaching out to grasp Chonrad's upper arm.

Chonrad stopped and let his gaze slide down to the fingers clutching hold of his mail. He kept his eyes there until Kenweard reluctantly withdrew his hold. “This is neither the time nor the place to debate the succession,” he said quietly, “but I should remind you I
was
Hariman's second in command, and though that does not make me natural successor, I believe in a situation such as this I retain the authority to speak for Laxony until the next High Lord is appointed.”

He turned away from Kenweard, trying to hide his anger, and smiled briefly at Grimbeald. “Do you know the locations of any of these Nodes?”

Grimbeald shrugged. “There is one place in Wulfengar that has the reputation of being a place of mystic energy. Couples fornicate there if they are struggling to conceive.” There was light laughter around the room. He grinned sheepishly. “It is actually a tomb in the Highlands; an old burial mound covered with grass and sheep. But supposedly it has an ‘energy' to it.”

Fionnghuala of Hanaire stood, her face alight. “There is a place, too, in Hanaire that has a similar reputation. It is called the Portal – an ancient stone trilithon, built the other side of the Snout Range. It is miles from anywhere and tends to be forgotten about, but it has always had the reputation of being a mystical place.”

Valens turned to Chonrad. “What of Laxony? Do you have anything similar there?”

Chonrad frowned. “I can think of nothing in Barle.” He turned to the other two Laxonian lords. “What of your lands?”

Kenweard shrugged, clearly not intending to contribute to the conversation after being snubbed. However Malgara of Dorle nodded. “We have the Henge,” she said. “A stone circle, built before records began. We know very little of it, but there are lots of myths surrounding it; tales of ghosts and lights and mystical sightings.”

Valens was getting caught up in Nitesco's enthusiasm. “That's three!” he exclaimed. “But what of Komis? Surely one of the Nodes must be in that country? How will we find that out?”

“You forget where I come from,” a voice said wryly from the back of the group. Everyone turned to see who had spoken.