Revelyn: 2nd Chronicles - The Time of the Queen Read online

  ‘He is a good man,’ said Andes.

  ‘A very good man,’ replied Rema. ‘I hope he finds his wife and children soon and that nothing has befallen them in his absence.’ They sat quietly then and thought upon the events which had bonded them so closely.

  Rema and Andes were given a small cabin which offered no more than two rude bunks, neither of which could contain the size of Andes, but he was happy enough to contort his body into a position which allowed him to sleep. Rema marvelled that such a man could get comfortable in the most awkward situations. The barge travelled easily and both Rema and Andes realised the two sisters were expert in the difficult art of guiding such a large craft solely under the influence of current and wind.

  ‘The wind always blows up river,’ Sedjer had informed them, ‘Always upriver, and of course the current flows in the opposite direction. It is a matter of using the two. We stay in the centre of the river going downstream for the current is strongest there and we use the wind to keep the barge correctly in the flow.’ She paused as if to allow the listeners to think on this...

  ‘On the way upriver we steer nearer the bank where the current is much weaker and the wind allows us to run before it.’ Ledjer continued. ‘It is trickier going upriver and much slower but we have all the time in the world.’ The two women laughed happily and it was clear they loved their simple life. For all their size they were both immensely strong and operated the large sculling oar on the stern and ran up the sails and did all that was required with great energy and skill. Both Rema and Andes were mightily impressed. The trip downriver was easy travelling. They were on the river during the day and moored by the bank at night. Small towns and villages were visited and in places goods taken on board for sale in the markets of Ramos. The barge, fittingly named Our Delight was well known on the river and the women well loved. Andes and Rema gave help where they could but mostly they were not needed, and required only for good conversation and the eating of the substantial meals which the sisters took turns to provide. At one point Rema inquired of the sisters about Ramos and the queen who ruled there.

  ‘In the Highlands we hear little about the Lowlands. We know that Revelyn is ruled now by one called the White Queen. If I am to find the Wisden of who I have spoken I will need to gain an audience with her. What is she like?’ At this, both Ledjer and Sedjer exchanged a serious look, and Rema immediately knew that it was a subject not easily addressed. He waited patiently for a reply.

  ‘The White Queen is well named for she wears nought but white. I have heard this only, for we never spend time ashore in Ramos, or not time enough to seek her out.’ Sedjer spoke first.

  ‘She has not been seen for many summers but she rules well by all accounts,’ Ledjer continued.

  ‘She has not been seen?’ Rema inquired. ‘But she does exist?’

  ‘What we mean Rema is that she is covered in white. She has a most beautiful white gown, several most likely, but her face is always veiled; in white.’ Sedjer once more took up the story, only to be interrupted by her sister when she took breath, a pattern which then continued.

  ‘...some say she is so ugly that to look upon her would be repellent...’

  ‘...or that she is diseased and cannot bear to show herself...’

  ‘...or it is not the same person, that there are perhaps several queens...’

  ‘.. .and yet she rules well for all speak highly of her manner...’

  It was soon clear to Rema that whoever ruled in Ramos, was a strangely remote figure and yet one not unloved by her subjects.

  ‘How long has she been on the throne?’ he asked, and at this the two sisters seemed greatly puzzled.

  ‘No one knows the answer to that,’ said Ledjer finally shaking her head.

  ‘She seems to have been there a long time. All my life anyway,’ added Ledjer

  ‘And mine too,’ said Sedjer stating the obvious, and they both laughed heartily.

  Rema thought upon this new knowledge, and as he did he noticed that Orcxyl sat close by and was listening intently to every word.

  In the main though, Orcxyl kept to himself and seemed to have taken over the foredeck where he slept and sat in silence and solitude. He joined the evening meal but said little and Rema was increasingly curious as to his story and the reason for his journey.

  ‘He has some sad secret, Andes,’ he said the second night of their trip aboard the barge.

  ‘I like a quiet man,’ said Andes in reply from his cramped bunk below, ‘but he is too quiet. I fear he is up to no good. Twice I have tried to engage him in friendly conversation but he says nothing. Either he is very rude or something consumes his mind.’ Rema thought on these words, and they seemed right to him.

  By the third day they were deep in the Great Southern Forest where there were no farms or villages to visit; just beautiful trees and the gentle sound of the water in the reeds as they sailed past. Rema and Andes sat in the stern with Sedjer and Ledjer and they talked of their knowledge of the travail of their land. Rema spoke of the Highlands and the loss of their home, then the tragic fall of the great township of Farview, and the volcanoes which seemed to want to bury the land in ash. The two sisters confided that the Lowlands too were under some strange threat.

  ‘Ryhversend is lost,’ said Sedjer mournfully, ‘It lies at the mouth of the Luminous River. Five hundred summers it has been the port to the ocean. Now it is mostly submerged under ten cubits of sea.’

  ‘The sea has risen, or has land has sunk?’ Andes asked quietly.

  ‘I always thought it was the sea that rose higher, but perhaps it could be the other way…the land is sinking.’ Ledjer whispered. ‘What do you think sister?’

  ‘It does not matter,’ came the reply, ‘the result is the same. The port in Ramos is also below water. The wharves and jetties have been raised but the houses and stores on the edge are underwater and the river has become a massive lake before the city.’

  ‘Which means it must be the land sinking,’ said Rema.

  ‘Why is that?’ the two twins chorused.

  ‘Well if the river still flows below Ramos to the sea then the sea has not come higher there…so it must be that the land in places is sinking. If the port in Ramos is underwater, it cannot be the sea which did it.’

  The twins looked at each other and laughed. ‘Now why did we not think of that? Of course you are right Rema, but perhaps it is a bit of both?’ Rema shook his head but said nothing.

  ‘The land is sinking,’ came the voice of another. They were all surprised to see that Orcxyl had come and sat with them. He had arrived silently and sat on the roof of the deck cabin looking down into the stern steerage space. All were amazed at his soundless approach.

  ‘You are certain of this?’ Andes asked but in a gentle manner for he did not wish to upset Orcxyl.

  ‘It is sinking. The sea does not rise, for what would add to the sea. My land has been lost by the sinking. I know it.’ Orcxyl was adamant.

  ‘I suspect you are right my friend.’ Rema smiled at Orcxyl, glad that the strange man had felt able to join their small group.

  Orcxyl nodded, and then suddenly he was gone, returning to his place on the foredeck, leaving the others greatly puzzled by this interaction with him.

  ‘He is strange, that one,’ said Ledjer.

  ‘And he has unbelievable hearing,’ whispered Rema, and they all nodded in agreement.

  On the fourth morning they were moored by the east bank close in below three huge and ancient oaks. The night had been absolutely still, with just the pleasant swirl of the current against the hull to lull them all to sleep. Rema rose early to hunt, hoping for some fresh meat to add to their evening fare. The early morning mist hung low on the river and a few water fowl swam eagerly around the barge, hopeful perhaps of more of the same scraps thrown to them the night before. Rema quietly left the barge and stood on top of the river bank looking into the forest as the early light filtered down through the canopy. Suddenly he was aware of ano
ther, and Orcxyl appeared soundlessly beside him. A shiver ran down Rema’s spine. You have an eerie habit of appearing from nowhere; he thought but nodded in acknowledgement of the man’s arrival.

  ‘You are hunting?’Orcxyl whispered the question; his words seeming to float on the air like the mist as though to least disturb it. Rema nodded once more.

  ‘Come,’ said Orcxyl, ‘I will show you what is on offer.’ This surprised Rema and he then suddenly realised that Orcxyl had risen before him and in fact it was he who had disturbed the other. He followed Orcxyl to a place some fifty paces into the forest where a number of fresh tracks intersected in the dew. Orcxyl indicate with his chin.

  ‘Many creatures. Which one would you like?’ He smiled and Rema realised that this was a challenge. Could he identify the animals from their tracks? He looked around then knelt.

  ‘This a rabbit, only young and with its kindma perhaps.’ Rema indicated with a finger. ‘Here a Revel Hare. Good eating. Over there a wolf, not a large one. These of course are ducks; many ducks, but I would like better than a duck.’ He stood.

  ‘Did you see that wolf was limping?’ Orcxyl asked. Rema shook his head. ‘And these tracks, do you know these? He indicated a very faint set which ran off into the forest on their own. Rema inspected them.

  ‘These are not clear. A deer?’

  ‘But what sort?’ came the reply.

  ‘I am used to hunting the Orax. I do not know this one?’ Rema said shaking his head.

  ‘It is a Sebuk. Very good eating. I hunt these in my land. Bigger I think than this one. The forest Sebuk is smaller but still would be good to eat.’ Rema smiled.

  ‘You are a hunter then Orcxyl?’ The man just smiled back.

  ‘I will track this Sebuk for you. Then you can show me what you can do with that strange bow.’

  ‘That seems fair,’ Rema replied, warming to the manner in which they conversed. ‘But these tracks are faint. Would we not be better going after the Hare, for they are clearer?’

  ‘We will track the Sebuk,’ Orcxyl replied with a confident smile. He knelt then and ran a finger through the place where the Sebuk had left its faint mark in the grass. He lifted it to his nose and smelt deeply of whatever he could sense, all of which puzzled Rema greatly, but he said nothing and allowed the other to take the lead.

  Orcxyl immediately saw the glow-worm-like tracks of the Sebuk leading off into the trees.

  ‘We go,’ was all he said, and Rema followed as Orcxyl led. The tracks vanished a hundred paces on where the dew had not laid upon the ground for the oaks above had kept the grass too warm in the night. Rema smiled and thought. The Hare was a better bet my friend. But Orcxyl knelt once more and showed the droppings fresh upon the ground. Those will not lead you to the beast, you need tracks. Rema knew it was too hard, but still he said nothing.

  Orcxyl smelt the fresh droppings and once more the tracks, even upon the drier ground stood out like tiny lights. Once again he led and Rema followed. The pattern was soon established. Orcxyl kneeling every now and then, smelling droppings and Rema following, increasingly amazed that his companion could move so easily from one pile of droppings to another with no apparent track between. Finally some half league to the east and a little north of the barge, Orcxyl put a finger to his mouth indicating they should be very quiet. The trees opened before them onto a meadow and there some distance off was the Sebuk grazing peacefully.

  ‘Your shot,’ my friend said Orcxyl with a smile, ‘but I would lay a bet that it is too far. We perhaps should move around through the tees and come upon it from closer in.’ Rema nodded but did not move. He looked about and chose a tree to his left from which he could stand in the shadow and fire clearly out into the meadow. He did not speak but prepared himself. Now it was Orcxyl who seemed perplexed.

  ‘It is too far. Two hundred paces. To be sure we should move in closer.’

  Rema ignored the man and notched an arrow.

  ‘You also need some feathers on the shaft my friend,’ whispered Orcxyl.

  Rema drew the string and held the arrow ready. He knew it was too far to hit without bending the arrow in its flight and so prepared himself. The arrow left the bow and crossed the distance to the doomed deer in three heartbeats. Rema watched it fly and bent it gently left in a smooth curve and then straightened it at the last moment. The arrow pierced the Sebuk’s chest. It leapt high in the air with the impact and took two steps before falling, quivering its last upon the grass.

  ‘I have never seen such a shot,’ Orcxyl whispered in amazement.

  ‘And I have never seen anyone track where there are no tracks,’ Rema replied. Orcxyl looked at him then suddenly ran off to the fallen Sebuk. Rema followed and found him stroking the beast and muttering soothingly to it as though to ease it into another realm. He watched as Orcxyl then removed the head and the lower limbs and cleaned the stomach cavity, all in a few easy and expert strokes of his hunting knife.

  ‘I always leave something for other creatures,’ he said when he was finished. ‘It is only right that I share what I have taken.’ He stood then, placing the gutted carcass around his shoulders.

  ‘I am guessing that your name means Hunter,’ said Rema; then after a pause... ‘In your land.’

  Orcxyl smiled and shook his head. ‘No,’ he replied.

  Rema shrugged. ‘What then?’

  ‘It means Great Hunter,’ Orcxyl replied and laughed a little.

  ‘Perhaps I would be called this if I lived in your land,’ Rema said with a smile.

  ‘No,’ Orcxyl said once more shaking his head with a smile.

  ‘What then?’

  ‘You would just be called Hunter.’

  The two men looked at each other and then their laughter echoed loudly across the meadow.

  The rest of the journey to Ramos was uneventful; even the weather was perfect. Following the hunt, Orcxyl retreated into his solitude and every attempt by Rema to engage him in conversation failed. Andes dreamed of returning to the Highlands and Fryn. Rema took to reading his book and the barge visited whichever villages that Sedjer or Ledjer desired, and although they did not always agree on which, their discussing the merits of the matter caused much mirth to any who cared to listen. Rema noticed that the river in places had spread out across the land and huge shallow lakes had formed. In two places they saw the remains of villages protruding sadly from the water; silent testimony to a land under some deep threat.

  ‘The land is sinking,’ Andes said sadly to Rema as they drifted past. ‘Is all Revelyn sinking do you think?’

  ‘It can’t be.’ Rema replied, stunned by the visual effect before him.

  ‘Why not?’ called Orcxyl fiercely and so suddenly from his foredeck that they jumped, realising that he listened to all their conversation and that this subject was perhaps a torture to him. They spoke no more about it but Rema’s resolve to find the Wisden and get to the bottom of it all was renewed.

  ‘There is a book in Ramos,’ he explained to Andes. ‘The great book of Prophecy. It tells many things about Revelyn. It has been used for half an age or more. The Wisden understand its meanings. Surely it will say something of these strange things.’ Andes mostly just listened for he did not share Rema’s passion in this.

  ‘For your sake I hope we find some answers,’ he seemed to find himself saying on a regular basis.

  ‘And then there is our encounter with El-Arathor. He was clear about some new evil in the land. I would like to know more about him too.’ They lay in their rough bunks and Rema talked late into the night.

  ‘Hmm,’ said Andes, thinking of Fryn.

  ‘We have a part to play in all this Andes. We just can’t see it. That’s all.’

  But Andes was asleep, his great frame twisted awkwardly into his small bunk.

  And in this manner they came to Ramos.

  ‘I could not imagine such a place,’ Andes whispered in awe as the barge was guided skilfully into the busy port.

  ‘I count a score of
wharves and jetties,’ Rema added, equally overcome by the immensity of the city. ‘And so many barges and boats. Look Andes, up above; it is the White Palace. We have heard of it, but to see it with our own eyes...’

  ‘It is more than I had imagined,’ Andes continued quietly.

  The mighty ancient Palace stood high above the city, dominating the landscape. The white stonework of its sheer walls gleamed in the sun. All along its mighty length were wonderfully constructed turrets, and each flew a different flag, the significance of which was lost on the two awestruck observers. It seemed so vast and permanent that both Andes and Rema were reassured in looking upon it.

  ‘That is where we must go,’ said Rema to himself. ‘We will find answers in the Palace.’

  ‘It does not look like the sort of place one can just knock on the door and be admitted,’ Andes commented for he had heard Rema’s whisper. He shook his head.

  ‘No, but I will find a way Andes.’

  At that moment Sedjer and Ledjer commenced a series of manoeuvres with the barge which brought it in close by a vacant mooring at the end of a long jetty which reached well out into the river. As they approached Rema saw that the jetty had been heightened; new timbers built upon the older structure below which was now at water level and in places swamped by the river. Looking along the jetty which was alive with activity, he saw it ran into the lower town past half sunken houses and stores. In fact the whole waterfront of Ramos was underwater, and several streets were now being used for moorings right next to old stone houses which had been converted into wharves.

  The barge bumped roughly against the jetty and Ledjer sprang easily onto it and expertly fastened a bow line. The gentle inshore current swung the barge around in a mighty arc, turning it to face upriver and as the stern was swept inwards, Sedjer now leapt onto the jetty and quickly secured another line to a mighty timber post.