Land of Winds - the Guardian, Part Four, Fantasy Fiction

Welcome to part 4 - Thank you for following Seome on his quest to find out what has happened, and what is in store for him.

For those of you who would like to start at the beginning, I have included a link, as well as one for the previous episode.

Land of Winds - the Guardian, Part One
Land of Winds - the Guardian, Part Three

The Casters Circle had stood as a defence for the town of Arnwaithe for a hundred years. Within its stone tower, the gifted honed their skills, practicing spells and studying until they were ready to ‘stand circle’.

This was designed to place a net of energy around the township and surrounding area, linking up with other circles to form a grid, which allowed the townspeople to come and go as they pleased, but should any foreign magic try to cross; an alarm was tripped, alerting the Casters to the visitor’s presence.

Of course, the alarm was a warning for magics only. Human intruders fell under the Councils jurisdiction. The system had worked perfectly for a hundred years without an incident, until yesterday.

The Lady Janeryl of Arnwaithe stood gazing out the window at the Berolstep in the distance, watching, as the clouds shifted and scattered across the tops of those huge, snow-capped peaks. She commanded a breath-taking view from the east tower room, her one sanctuary from prying eyes, forbidden to all save one other.

Right now, she was taking a break from training the new Casters. She should be resting, instead of standing here trying to figure out what had gone wrong with yesterday's circle. It was nothing she had ever encountered before and that bothered her.

She was young to be the Rowen and she felt the responsibilities keenly. She knew there were others who disagreed with the Dryn’s decision and some downright hated her, but none would openly challenge it.

She sighed, worried. Two Casters were still unconscious, another two were being treated for burns by the healers, and the others had been given a sedative and ordered to bed.

A headache was starting to throb behind her eyes. She turned from the window ,rubbing her temples,trying to ease the pain. The soft material of her long blue robe swirled against her legs as she paced the room.

A knock on the door scattered her thoughts, bringing her back to the present.

“What is it?” she called dismissing the twinge of annoyance at being disturbed.

“Yer pardon, me Lady, but First Minister Phineas is here and making an awful row he is, demanding to see yer and the like. Master Greel be with him now, and bids yer come right away.”

Janeryl opened the door to find Molly wiping her hands nervously on the front of her worn apron.

“Tell Master Greel that I'm coming.”

Molly bobbed a quick curtsey, and scuttled away. Janeryl shook her head, smiling to herself, picturing the First Minister forced to submit to Greel's brand of hospitality!

She hurried, her slippers making no sound on the stone steps. Rounding a corner, she entered the antechamber of the Circle novitiates, pausing to secure an errant curl that threatened to escape from her long braid, and hastened towards the sound of raised voices.

“Ah, Lady Janeryl.” The First Minister bowed and stepped forward to greet her. It looked to her like Greel and First Minister Phineas were ready to trade blows, judging by the expression on Greel's face.

“I'm sorry to disturb you, my lady, but the Council is worried by what appears to be a sickness that is attacking our spell casters.” He paused to catch his breath. “Several of the girls have fallen in a faint, and many of the young men have hideous burns. One lad is so disfigured; the healers hold little hope for his recovery. We hoped you would be privy to what is happening.”

Janeryl glanced at Greel, who stood scowling a few steps away, his gaze fastened on the back of the First Minister.

“Would that it were so, First Minister Phineas.” Janeryl acknowledged his greeting with a nod, “I am sure, Master Greel has made you aware, the problems you're facing have also affected some of our own members. As yet we don't know the cause. We are looking into this as we speak and when we have some answers, we will convene the Council to discuss whatever actions can be taken.”

“But the Council...” spluttered the First Minister.

“Will have to wait!” Janeryl snapped.

The First Minister stiffened at her reply. “My first duty is to find answers to this problem, so that we may stop this from spreading, not add to it with half-truths and conjecture.”

She noticed Greel's lips twitching, and continued in a calmer tone. “You know how important spell casters are, even one loss in their ranks, deals us a blow we can ill afford. With so many, in the hands of healers, we will be hard pressed to stand a circle this day. Tell the Council; they will have their answers when we know for a certainty. Now if you will excuse me, there is much to be done, and I can afford no more time for this discussion.”

“Then I will take leave of you, my Lady.” The First Minister smiled thinly, and bowed. “I will give the Council your message.” Frowning, he turned, nodded to Greel, and strode out the door and down the corridor.

As his footsteps faded, Greel relaxed, smiling at Janeryl.

“I think that went well, don't you?” he said. Janeryl sighed, a smile tugging at her mouth. “Pompous Ass!” she said, “He makes my teeth ache.”

“Well, he didn't treat me to his 'sunny disposition' today either. You know he is just itching to find a way to replace you as Rowen with someone more sympathetic to his needs.”

Greel pantomimed wringing motions with his hands. “What I wouldn't give for a dark, secluded alley!”

Janeryl chuckled at the image the words conjured in her mind. She sobered, as she remembered what had precipitated his visit.

“Well, we have a lot of preparations to see to before tonight.” She turned briskly, and walked back towards the antechamber. Sighing, Greel turned and followed her.

© Enelle Lamb 2004, all rights reserved

Part Five