The Aedyn Chronicles Page 9

  “Clear,” muttered Peter as he poured gunpowder into the barrel and carefully lowered a cannonball on top of it. He checked that the touch hole was filled with gunpowder, placed a piece of wadding on top, and stood back from the weapon.

  “It’s ready.”

  It was ready…and as soon as fire hit the gunpowder everything would explode in his face. He took a deep breath. “Captain, those horses will bolt when they hear the noise of the explosion. They might injure themselves. Can you get someone to lead them back a bit and hold them?”

  The captain grunted his assent and shouted toward the slaves.

  “You there! Take the lords’ horses over there against that wall. And don’t dare let go of them. They’re far more valuable than you are.” He turned back to Peter. “Now tell us what to do, and what to look for.”

  Peter looked at the rock platform. The cannon was in its center, about twenty paces from the horses against the wall. A number of guards in addition to the captain were milling about, all fascinated by this new piece of technology, and by its side was an open canvas bag of gunpowder. The Jackal, the Leopard, and the Wolf stood on a platform some distance away, surveying the scene before them. It was perfect.

  “The cannon will fire one of these balls a distance over there, towards the forest,” Peter said, pointing. “I want you and your men to watch carefully for signs of impact. Then we need to go to where the cannonball has landed, and work out how far it has travelled. That will help us calibrate the weapon. Is that clear?” Peter was trying very, very hard to sound like his father, trying to sound commanding and authoritative.

  “Perfectly. You four! Stand over there. Keep your eyes peeled straight ahead of you. Don’t look round! I don’t want you missing this ball when it hits the ground. Now”—he turned back to Peter, who was intent on the slaves moving the horses. “What else?”

  “Well,” he said, trying to look once more like an emissary of Albion, “I ought to have the privilege of firing the weapon. After all, I designed it. I’ll just need a match.” He looked over his shoulder expectantly.

  Peter was taking a gamble and it paid off. The captain looked at him with suspicion.

  “Oh no, you won’t. No way I let a boy like you fire this thing. Now show me what to do, and no tricks, now.” Peter, feigning disappointment, nodded and stepped back to allow the captain to see more clearly.

  “You light the match, and hold it against this piece of wadding, here. The powder will catch fire, and this spreads into the main body of the barrel. The rest of the powder will explode and propel this ball far out across the field. There will be lots of smoke, and a lot of noise. That means it’s worked.”

  The captain nodded gravely. “Understood. Men, prepare yourselves!” He looked around, and Peter hurriedly stepped back. He began to walk towards the horses, hoping nobody would notice what he was doing. Luck seemed to be on his side now.

  “Three! Two! One! Here we go…”

  The captain’s voice faded into the distance as Peter broke into a sprint. He must get to the horses before…

  The force of the explosion hit Peter between his shoulder blades. He was knocked forward and stumbled on the grass, throwing his hands forward to catch himself. And then, in the smoke and the chaos, he clawed his way upright and ran for the horses. He dashed for the captain’s horse, tore its lead from the hand of a dazed slave, and began to ride furiously through the choking clouds of smoke and debris towards the forest.

  The horse responded powerfully to his urgings, leaping over low hedges and streams and galloping towards the green mass of trees on the horizon. Freedom! But Peter’s heart sank as he heard the one sound he had dreaded, the sound he had hoped never to hear: the sound of other horses behind him. He was being pursued.

  It was difficult to think about any strategy when he was so focused on guiding the horse to safety and staying upright in the saddle. His only plan was speed. The horse responded to his urging and pressed on towards the safety of the trees. It was a fine horse—a thoroughbred, he thought vaguely, a horse that would be a champion back in England, but he could not shake off his pursuers. He dared not look backward, as he might lose his balance, but kept pressing the horse for speed, more speed.

  Minutes seemed like hours as his horse galloped towards the treeline, its nostrils flaring. He was nearly there! Maybe he could lose his pursuers in the trees…Peter could see that there was a gap ahead, perhaps leading to a trail. The trees raced to meet him, and parted to allow him to enter their sanctuary. He guided the horse in the right direction, hoping it would not take fright at the mass of trees. And behind him, he could still hear the relentless beating of hooves. He had not been able to shake them off.

  Peter reined in the horse, leading it off the trail and into the trees. He stroked his animal and spoke softly to it, dismounting. Peter stood in silence, waiting for his pursuers, hoping they would hear neither his own heart racing, nor the horse’s heavy breathing.

  Two figures passed by him slowly, clearly on the watch for him. Peter watched as one pointed and murmured to the other. They both dismounted and approached on foot. His heart pounding more than it had even during the explosion, Peter hurriedly searched around him for anything he could use as a weapon. There were no swords mounted on the horse’s saddle and no good rocks lying anywhere about.

  Peter looked up, aware that it had gone very quiet. And then, to his astonishment, he saw two slaves before him.

  “Lord Peter,” said the first, his head bowed low, “I believe we can help you keep safe from pursuit.”

  “I—what?” Incredulous, Peter kept a hand on his horse’s saddle, ready to flee at a moment’s notice.

  “We must go deeper into the forest,” said the second slave. “They are sure to send out search parties. We must keep to the trees—tracks can be followed.”

  “I am Philip,” said the first slave, sensing Peter’s hesitation. “This is Andrew. We only need press on a bit longer, for the guards fear the woods. But we must go quickly.”

  “Come, let us go,” said Andrew, and Peter nodded his assent. For what other choice did he have by now?

  The trio remounted and headed into the forest. Peter could not help but notice that the slaves were leading him. They seemed to know where they were going.

  Within the castle the Lords of Aedyn were huddled together in a conference, trying to make some sense of the reports that had reached them and the curious evidence of their own eyes. The cannon had exploded, igniting a nearby bag of gunpowder. Shards of clay and the explosive force of the cannon had seriously injured five guards, burning one of them almost beyond recognition, and that worthless captain of the guards had been killed instantly. It was, thought the Wolf, a grim day indeed.

  He looked sharply at the man who stood trembling before him. A grimmer day than most for him, he thought.

  “Your fault again, Anaximander,” he said without emotion. “You have failed as usual—failed miserably and completely. And now, before you die, answer me this one thing: Where is the traitor Peter, and when can I expect to have the pleasure of hanging him?”

  Anaximaner cringed before the lords. He knew they would not be pleased with what he had to say, but his fate would be all the worse if he concealed it.

  “There is no sign of the fair stranger. Nor is there any sign of the two slaves assisting in the…test.”

  The Leopard leapt from his throne with a snarl.

  “Are you telling us that they have escaped? Three of them?”

  Anaximander very much hoped that the earth would open up and swallow him. As it did nothing of the sort, he only nodded and continued.

  “And three of the horses are missing as well. It looks as if the renegades seized the animals and made for the forest.”

  To this there was no response: the lords were silent. And then Anaximander saw that the Wolf’s knuckles were white as he gripped the arms of his throne. He raised a hand to summon the guards, and the Lord Chamberlain was dragged, shr
ieking, from the Hall.

  Without missing a beat, the Jackal turned to the others. “And what of this cannon? Do we conclude that it malfunctioned accidentally? Or that the traitor deliberately designed it to explode?”

  “We saw it ourselves,” the Leopard reminded him. “The captain fired the cannon, not the fair stranger. I suggest”—and here he began to look very proud indeed—“that we make more of these cannons and see if we can get them working properly. We have nothing to lose by doing so.”

  The Wolf nodded. “Very well. We may need these weapons soon if we are to face a threat from the forest.”

  Deep in the forest preparations were being made for the Great Remembrance. The seats in the garden were gradually being filled, although it was obvious that the garden had been intended to hold a much larger crowd. Many were absent. But the faithful few were gathered—Lukas and his band of men, dressed in their characteristic green, Alyce and Helen, and those who had not been conscripted to slave for the lords inside the castle. There was excitement in the air and rumors surged through the crowd. This year would be different!

  Julia was led to a seat behind the stone chair where she waited as the others took their places. She was dressed in a radiant white robe. Alyce had helped Julia get dressed, combing her hair until it flashed like gold in the early evening sun. And now she waited to be called forward.

  As the disk of the sun finally slipped from view silence fell over the assembly. A great eagle flew down from the heights of one of the surrounding trees, its majestic wings beating the air as it descended. It landed on the ground in front of the great, empty throne at the center of the garden. A few moments later, Gaius, also dressed in white, mounted the throne. He looked out over the gathered crowd and spoke.

  “Friends, I am the keeper of our memories. You all know that tonight is a special night. It is not like any other night of the year. For this is the night of the Great Remembrance, when we call to mind how we came out of the doomed land of Khemia to this fair land of Aedyn! The dark Lords of Aedyn have forbidden us to speak of this, but truth can never be silenced! We must never forget the true story of the great exodus from Khemia. You must learn this story by heart. Write it on your mind and engrave it on your hearts! And remember well: the story has not yet ended. It will not end until the Lord of Hosts himself returns and redeems us.”

  Then he closed his eyes, and began to speak in a voice that Julia had never heard before—a voice that seemed not quite his own. It was a voice full of memory, a voice full of pain. The monk held within him five centuries of tears and anguish, she remembered.

  “This night is like no other night,” Gaius was saying. “For tonight we remember how the Lord of Hosts brought us all out of Khemia. He snatched us from the jaws of destruction and brought us to this rich and pleasant land. We remember with thanks his servant Marcus, who faithfully led us to this land.”

  Around her, Julia noticed that everyone was passing round morsels of some kind of food. Those who had plenty shared with those who had none. Alyce slipped across to where Julia was sitting and pressed something into her hands. Julia examined it cautiously. It appeared to be dried fish of some sort.

  “On this night, we eat salted fish. Why do we eat salted fish on this night of the year, and on no other night? To remember that the Lord of Hosts brought us here across the great salt sea, to this good and fertile land. When we eat this fish, we remember what our Lord has done and look forward to what he will do. Brothers and sisters, let us eat, let us remember, and let us hope! One day the Lord will return! We live in hope!”

  There was silence in the garden for a moment, broken only by the sounds of munching. Julia, who didn’t like fish but figured this was no time to be picky, placed the morsel in her mouth and tried to swallow it quickly. After each person had eaten, Gaius resumed his speech.

  “Friends, we must never forget who we really are! We are the ones whom the Lord brought across the sea. We are the ones to whom he gave this fair land. We are the ones with whom he entered into a covenant, pledging to be faithful to us just as we were faithful to him—forever. Forever!”

  Gaius looked around him. The tone of his voice changed again as he began to speak of how things had gone wrong—the great Question of Aedyn, Julia remembered.

  “But there were those who wanted to be kings themselves. They wanted to rule, not to serve. They wanted power, not responsibility. We were betrayed, and we are now all slaves of the dark Lords of Aedyn. Their power comes from weapons, not from justice. This is not the way things were meant to be! We are faceless and nameless to these dark Lords. Yet—” and here a note of quiet gentleness came into his voice—“each of us is known by name to the Lord of Hosts. And nothing the dark lords can do will change this!”

  Grunts, applause, and shouts echoed around the garden. But Gaius had not yet finished.

  “Every year—every year for five centuries—we have hoped for deliverance. We have gathered in this garden to remember the past and hope for the future. Here is the throne of the Lord! And here is the altar at which the Lord made his covenant with us! They all lie in ruins. Still the Lords of Aedyn rule, and still we are trampled under their feet. But one day our paradise will be restored, and we shall once more be free!”

  The crowd roared its approval. They lived in hope, even if each year that passed saw that hope dwindle a little. And who could live without hope?

  Gaius paused. Normally, at this point in the story, he would ask them to be patient and faithful, and wait in hope. But tonight his message would be different.

  “My friends, we believe that the Lord who we seek will one day appear in this land—his land! We believe that he will return, overthrow tyrants and despots, and establish his own righteous rule. And tonight I have good news to be proclaimed throughout this island.”

  The faithful gathered there were very still, not quite daring, after all the long years, to believe what they were hearing. This was what they had waited generations to hear, and it was almost frightening to believe that the day might be upon them. Gaius’s bright eyes scanned the audience, waiting for the right moment to deliver his message.

  “Tonight is different! For the Lord of Hosts has sent his messenger to prepare his way in this land and in our hearts! You all know the great prophecy of the coming of the Fair Strangers, written in our sacred books. The coming of these strangers was to be a pledge that the Lord himself had heard our cries and taken pity upon us. One of them will deliver us! What we have longed for will take place! The Lord will deliver his people from bondage!”

  The crowd fell suddenly and completely silent as Gaius stepped down from the stone throne. He returned a moment later leading Julia, her white robe highlighting her long golden hair. As she stood before them Gaius bowed down before her, then turned to the people.

  “The Deliverer is here!”

  The crowd rose to its feet. Time stood still. And Julia, who had never been anyone of much importance, found herself all of a sudden very shy and very excited at the same time. Finally, Gaius spoke again.

  “Let the word spread throughout this land. The Lord of Hosts is coming! The old sorrows will pass away. The Lord will make all things new! You all know what needs to be done. Let us prepare for the restoration of Aedyn!”

  The cheers resounded throughout the gathering night, wafting even up towards the distant citadel. The days of the Lords of Aedyn were numbered.

  CHAPTER

  16

  What’s that noise?”

  Deep within the forest Peter and the two slaves halted. Their horses whinnied, made nervous by the noises to the west. Andrew and Philip glanced at each other and nodded.

  “It’s coming from the garden. It’s the night of the Great Remembrance.”

  Peter looked askance at them. “What remembrance?”

  “We ought to go there at once,” Philip said. “It is a gathering of those who trust in the Lord of Hosts. It is a time when we hear the great story of our past. The dark lords
suppress all talk about the Lord of Hosts. They hope that this will make us forget about him. But we could no more forget him than we could forget our parents or”—he exchanged a significant look with Andrew—“our children.”

  Peter did not understand at all but saw no reason to argue. They rode slowly towards the garden, guided only by the newly risen moon as they went along the darkened trails in the forest.

  It was not long after—in fact, only a few moments later—that they rode into the garden. Peter recognized it instantly from the night they had spent there—it felt like ages ago. But the place was no longer abandoned. A group of men in green milled about excitedly. And who was that old man who seemed to be the center of attention? Why had Philip and Andrew rushed to speak to him?

  And who was that woman in white, sitting on the throne? She looked vaguely familiar. And then Peter stared with astonishment. What on earth was Julia doing on that throne?

  Julia became dimly aware of movement on the edge of the garden. Three new people had arrived. Two were slaves, doubtless late for the ceremony, but the other was different, his hair much fairer than the raven locks that surrounded him. Peter!

  She clasped her hand to her mouth. She had never thought to see him again. She had never wanted to see him again. He was her brother, but he had betrayed her…hadn’t he? Julia was rooted to the spot, frozen by indecision. Part of her wanted to rush and embrace her brother; the rest of her wanted to run away from him as quickly as possible. And so she turned her head away from her brother.

  Peter stared at his sister, wanting to embrace her—an emotion he could not recall ever feeling before. Yet she showed no interest in him. Was it that she was afraid of him? Or that he had done something wrong? Surely she realized that he had tried to save her life! Like Julia he stood still, not knowing what to do.

  For some moments all was still and silent. Then Gaius strode forward, took Julia by the hand, and led her toward her brother.