The Wall: Book One - Siege

By C J Bromfield

The story is set on the planet Ilici and tells the age old story of good versus evil. The Walls was built eon ago when the Dark Lord Silo attempted to bring all of Ilici under his and his dark god domination. The dark Lord attempts were defeated in a climactic battle after a war which lasted 10 years. He was driven back into his lands and to stop him from once more bringing war and grief to the other nations of Ilici a great Wall was built across the only pass through the mountains that imprisons him into his own land. For him to fulfil his dark God desire, he must find a way to overcome the Wall. Opposing him is not only the Wall but an Alliance of Nation, led by King Ironsides, who is determine to defend the Wall, but also to end his hold on the unfortunate Nation of Hakionery. Help come from a surprising quarter when a prisoner, Maddinton, falsely accused of treason escapes from the hell of the cooper mine he has been imprison in. The floor of the mine shaft he was in collapse throwing him into a labyrinth of old tunnels only to be rescued by the Gomers, a race of dwarfs, master craftsmen in stone. It was these dwarfs who had help the first alliance build the Wall. With their help Maddinton was finally able to escape labyrinth he had found himself in. News had reached King Ironsides that the Wall was under attack from huge siege weapons. Would Ironsides and his army reach the wall in time? Maddinton wife, Malien, having lost her Husband and young Son following her arrest now finds herself falling in love with the very man who was the author of her predicament. The Lord Silo.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse UK
• Release date: Oct 26, 2013
• ISBN: 9781491881477

C J Bromfield

He is 72 and has taken up writing for the first time on his 70th birthday, just to keep the grey matter working. He started his working life as a farm labourer before signing up in the British Army for a term of service of six year. After leaving the army he took a government training scheme and became a Boilermaker. Having done 12 years as a boilermaker he decided to go back to school. He attended first Middlesex polytechnic on a DIRST course for a year, achieving a diploma in Trade Union studies; then went to Sheffield Polytechnic to take a degree in Social Science. In 1981 he became a County Councillor on Nottinghamshire County Council representing a ward in his own town of Newark. He held that position for 24 years becoming the Chair of the Cultural and Community Committee. One of his responsibilities being for all the Libraries in Nottinghamshire, some 66 in total; in 2001 he retired from Politics and at the age of 70 to up writing.

Book preview

Contents

Prologue

Chapter 1    Candafali

Chapter 2   Hamish

Chapter 3   Candafali & Sandory

Chapter 4   Silo & Malien

Chapter 5   Candafali

Chapter 6   Susan

Chapter 7   Alex Ironsides

Chapter 8   Reno

Chapter 9   Reno & Elise

Chapter 10   Silo & Malien

Chapter 11   Candafali

Chapter 12   Maddinton

Chapter 13   Alex & Susan

Chapter 14   Candafali

Chapter 15   Maddinton

Chapter 16   Alex & Susan

Chapter 17   Call to arms

Chapter 18   The Wall

Chapter 19   Reno

Chapter 20   Silo & Malien

Chapter 21   Roderick

Chapter 22   Roderick and Reno

Chapter 23   Maddinton & Milly

Chapter 24   Alex & Susan

Chapter 25   Journey into the unknown

Chapter 26   Silo & Malien

Chapter 27   Reno & Elisa

Chapter 28   Alex

Chapter 29   Silo & Malien

Chapter 30   Alex & Susan

Chapter 31   Reno

Chapter 32   Silo

Chapter 33   Reno and Elisa

Chapter 34   Alex

Chapter 35   Silo

Chapter 36   Reno

Chapter 37   Morning of the Battle

Chapter 38   End game

Chapter 39   Home coming

Epilogue

Prologue

The battle had been hard fought over three long grueling days and nights; no quarters were asked for and none given, for upon the outcome of the battle rested not just the fate of the Kingdom of Hakionery on whose soil the battle was being fought, but the fate of all the lands and people on the World of Ilici. The slaughter continued all day and far into night; only when the first of Ilici two moons dipped below the horizon and shrouded the battlefield in utter darkness brought about an cessation of the butchery and then only for short periods before the second of Ilici moon rose over the horizon, then slaughtering would once more continued. On the morning of the fourth day the field of battle had been ceded to the victors. How many men had died or were dying on that field of battle none knew, those that did survived gave thanks to their gods and those that had no god to thank kissed the very ground on which they stood.

Now as dusk was fast approaching on that fourth day the leader of the victorious army’s looked over the battlefield; the ground upon which he stood was muddy, sucking at his feet as he walked the battle field. Where once there had been firm, dusty ground there now was a field of mud. No rain had fallen during the whole four days; it was blood of those who had fought that had turned the once firm ground into mud, the blood of thousands, dead, wounded. Each precious drop of blood adding one to the other turning the ground into a muddy hell which suck into it grim embrace the unfortunate dead and even more unfortunate wounded. How many of those who had fought so valiantly had died drowning in that sea of bloody mud none could say.

He had gone about the dead and dying listening to the cries of the wounded; some calling for Mothers, others for Father, or sweetheart, many cursing the Gods in whose name this battle had been fought. He had walked amongst those fallen, friend and enemies alike, found some of the dead in sweet repose whilst others sightless eyes looked towards the heaven as if seeking salvation. Many of the dead had terror written on their faces, it was as if they had known that death was approaching them; around him was the noise of those who were wounded, crying out for salvation. Now sicken as he was by the death that surrounded him he had wanted to flee from this field of blood but like many around him was unable to do so for he was seeking love ones who had fallen and would not leave until he found them.

Yet he was not alone on that field of death; all around was the unremitting sound of the flies feeding on the blood and flash of the dead and dying, laying their eggs in wounds torn open by sword and spear. Joining them in this feast of the dead and wounded were other scavengers, the feather kind and four legged ones. With each stumbling step he took he risked stepping on some rotting body parts sending a swarm of flies into the air. But most sickening of all was the human scavengers robbing the dead and dying; he had in his anger ordered that touches be lit at night to cast a protecting light over the fallen and that any such scavengers regardless of age or gender be executed on the spot. In his anger and grief he had screamed in anger so that all could hear and be warned. And to those who had raised objection had replied;

Let them share death with those that they had sought to rob.

Many years later he would regret his hasty reaction; would see it as a blot upon his reputation. But such was his rage at seeing these human scavengers robbing the dead that it drove all thoughts of pity from his mind and heart. The only pity he felt was for those honorable dead; now with his strength drained from him he staggered aimlessly amongst them seeking his lost love ones.

For three days he had search for a Brother and two Uncles amongst the dead, resting briefly but to no avail; with each passing day the foul smell of corrupting bodies assaulted the nostrils of those who like him was looking for love ones, but for many the small of rotting bodies would drive them from that terrible field of grieve. Has the days passed bodies long since dead began to move with life once more, maggots recently hatched had started to harvest the rotting corpses giving a grotesque’s resemblance of life to the corpses as they did so.

In the end his friend had dragged him from that field of blood, away from the stinking rotting corpse for men and women were being affected by disease and risked infecting others with all manner of illnesses. They had given him a drink which had been infused with a drug made from the poppy, one that would induce a long deep sleep. It was only after he had fallen into that dreamless sleep that they had been able to set about cleansing the bloody field of the rotting corps, friends and enemy alike were placed upon the burning pyres for they, the dead, would not object to shearing the cleansing flames. When once more he had come to his senses he had at first raged against those that had sought to protect him; only days later would he recognise the true value of their action.

Now many years later he stood alone with his thoughts. For ten long years he had led an alliance of nations against the evil of the Dark Lord of Hakionery. For ten long years he had not seen home, consumed as he was with the need to defeat evil. Now standing on the battlement of this massive new Wall he looked out towards the Kingdom of Hakionery knowing as he did so that the very Wall he stood on signified that whilst they had been victorious in that climatic battle they had not completely defeated the Enemy. Somewhere out there was the evil Dark Lord gathering his strength to once more fulfill the desire of his evil master, the dark God.

He had come with his grand army of the Kingdom of Glimearsh at the request of the King of Saliband and the Leader of the Clans of the Great Prairie. The emissary from both kingdoms had brought news of a nation overcome by a great evil; an evil that had overrun the inhabitant of a peaceful nation, the Gomers.

The Gomer’s where a nation of peace loving dwarfs; legendary for their skills as stonemasons; a people that lived in small communities farming the land, a numerous race living simple lives. But for all their peaceful nature they were to be the victims of a great evil who for the first time in the recorded history of Ilici were to bear witness to Genocide. They had been driven from their ancestral lands by the horde of killer led by the Dark Lord, Lord Silo. In desperation they had sent emissaries to their neighbours over the mountain range that separated them asking for help. But such was the ferocity of their enemy that the few who had manage to escape the first assault by the Hakionery had fled into the mountains seeking refuge there.

Over the years they had found underground rivers and streams carved out of the mountains over eons and one such stream led them to a deep and long valley which over time they were to call home; yet they refused to cut all links with the world of men for even in this remote valley they knew that they were not safe.

Both the nation of Saliband and the clans of the great prairie lands knew that they would be next and had called upon the Kingdom of Glimearsh to assist them for whilst the Clans had a fierce history of inter clan warfare they had settle into more peaceful co-existence with their neighboring clans. The Kingdome of Saliband had no enemies and its small army was used in the main to police its inhabitants. In a great council it was agreed the King of Glimearsh would be the nominal leader of the great army assembled for of all the free nation only the people of Glimearsh knew the art of war having on its northern boundaries barbarians who only existent seem to raid the that Kingdome.

For ten long years they had fought the Armies of the Dark Lord the tide of war swinging first one way then the next until finally they had driven him back into his own Kingdom, forced him to face his enemies in one last battle, there they had halted him but not fully defeated him. He had retreated into his vast hinter-lands no doubt to lick his wounds and plan his next move.

Now three years after that bloody battle he could hear behind him work being carried out to construct the second Wall. The Walls that where both a sign of hope and defeat; A great council had been convened following the last battle for all knew that somewhere in the vast lands of Hakionery the Dark Lord would be planning his revenge. But so great had been the losses sustained over the last Ten years that they could not pursue him into his own land but neither could they allow him to once more bring death and destruction to others, so it had been agreed that the Great Walls be built across the only pass in the mountain range that separated Hakionery from the rest of Ilici thereby penning him into his own lands, the Gomers, master craftsman in stone that they were agreed to oversee the building of the great walls. The first wall had been built not at the narrowest point in the passage way through the mountains but in a location were the granite of the surrounding mountain came near the surface of the pass thereby providing a firm foundation for the Wall. The second Wall had proved more difficult to locate and they had had to dig some way down to find the granite for its foundation but it did allow them to dig a wide ditch as added protection to that second Wall.

King Roderick Ironsides of Glimearsh took one last look into the vast endless land of the Dark Lord, He had lost count of the number of good men and women that had given their lives to defeat the Dark Lord, to drive him back into his own land of Hakionery or how many where buried in unmarked graves in that endless land but too many to dwell upon now, there would be time over the coming years to mourn love ones but not now. Somewhere out there laid his brother killed in an ambushed, his body never recovered to bring home and place too rest in the family vault amongst of his ancestors as well as two of his uncles.

Now he turned and made his way toward the hoist that would take him to the ground far below. He was dressed in armour which bore the Royal coats of arm of Glimearsh, on his head a simple helmet with a band of gold to denote his rank and on a belt his great sword. Has the hoist reached the ground he was met by the other leaders of the Alliance; Enderory, leader of the people of the great prairies lands, a land beyond a second great mountain range. Next to him King Fredeo, King of Saliband, Enderory neighboring Kingdom; for a week now they had been debating in council what to do with this land of the Gomers, the land between the two mountain ranges; the Gomers had been the first victims of the Dark Lord evil ambition. They had fled into the mountains, abandoning this fertile lands to find sanctuary in the fastness of the mountain range; it was they who provided the craftsmen skilled enough to build the Walls. It was to be their last gift to the world of men before returning to their new homes. The three leaders looked toward where the second great Wall was under construction. It was King Ironsides who spoke.

It’s been agreed by the Great Council then. The question asked to no one in particular.

Hi, they agreed last night. Answered Fredeo of Saliband; twenty thousand of each of our best men will settle this land and over the next few years they will bring their families to join them, this will be their new home.

Looking to were the leader of the Gomers was standing, he asked him.

And you agree with this?

Yes friend Ironsides; we are done with the affairs of men, once our work here is done here we will leave and return to our new homeland.

Now turning to the other leaders he asked them.

And do they understand the duty that we place upon them?

It was Enderory who answered Ironsides question. Yes they do. It is for that reason that they have decided that the land shall have a new name, one which reflect those duties. From henceforth these lands will be known as the Lands of the Guardian.

And have they decided who shall rule this… he pursed trying to fix the new name in his mind for the first time. This Lands of the Guardian;

Yes. A minor nobleman from your own land Ironsides; it was felt by all that given your leadership in this great struggle that one of your nations should rule.

Who;

A Nobleman from the noble house of Underly; Ironsides trawled his memory to recall the family. Could not, but knew that he and his people had been granted a great honour in the choice of one of their own as the new ruler of these lands. He had not taken any part in the negotiation that had taken place within the grand council of the alliance leaving it to one of his family, an uncle.

And by what name will he take as ruler of these lands. He asked.

He has not decided yet Ironsides. Maybe you can suggest a name for this new Royal House.

Nay, I have done with this land. I desire to return home to my family and my people. To be done with it all. The three men where silent lost in their own thoughts, each of them thinking of friends that had paid the highest price in the name of freedom;

When do you intend to return home Ironsides; Asked Fredeo;

Once the second Wall is completed; He replied.

Will he try again do you think. Asked Enderory; Ironsides did not answer straight away, but after a few moment of reflection he spoke.

Yes, it is the nature of the beast. But it will be many years yet for we have wounded him deeply. God hopes that I am long gone before he does for I am wary of the killing that has taken place in mine and your names. then seeing the look of dismay on his their faces he shook his head. But it had to be done, for evil cannot be allowed to triumph.

He took one last look over his shoulder at the completed first Wall. Knowing that it represented both a victory and a failure; A victory for the evil horde had been driven from whence they came, back into their homeland of Hakionery, but a failure that they had not been able to finish the job, their losses so great that the notion of following the evil lord deep into his own domain had not been possible; Hence the Walls. Never again would he be able to mount an unsuspected assault on the free nations. Yet Ironsides knew that try again he must for his god would demanded it off him.

Chapter 1

Candafali

The land of the Clans was a vast prairie on which great herds of cattle, sheep and goats roamed. To the far north were the ice fields of the frozen lands, to the East an impassable mountain ranges and to the West deep impenetrable forest, and in the south the kingdom of Saliband. From the frozen north to the Kingdom of Saliband was a distant of two thousand leagues, and from the forest of the West to the Mountains in the East a distant of two and an a half thousand leagues. So from all side the clans of the prairies were hemmed in by forces beyond their control.

As a nomadic people their lives were dictated by the needs of their livestock, following them across the prairie always looking for fresh pastures to feed upon. Most of the land was useless for anything other than for grazing, the prairie could not support large scale farming, although there where parts that could grow some root crops but they were few and far between.

For eons the Clans had fought amongst themselves, each Clan leader hoping to defeat his neighbouring Clan, to take his herds of cattle, sheep and goats and other chattels. Their only desire being to increase his wealth and influence in the lands he called his own. The fruit of his victories, the man, those that had survived and young male child’s were to become the slaves of the victor, the Women and young girl traded elsewhere but only after the victors had used them, the old and infirmed sent to meet their ancestors in that other place.

Yet there was a group of man who did not come under the control of individual clan leaders and who took no part in the perpetual conflict that so inflicted the lands. This group of priestly men; for they saw themselves as priest, were the keepers of the folklore of the Clans and to recognise the values and wisdom that they brought to the Clans. Not only did they keep alive the folklore but also acted as teachers and provided the Clans with a rudimentary health care system for they had a vast knowledge of the herbs that grew throughout the lands of the prairies. They were called Wiseman; these Wiseman acted for the benefit of all the clan’s which they served but fall outside of the control of individual clan chief. No clan chief however powerful he was could afford to ignore his Wiseman for to lose the support of such men would be the end of him for such was the value placed by the ordinary clansman in their usefulness. A leader of a clan who lost the good will of his local Wiseman would soon find himself disposed of by his clan.

It was this priesthood, for that was how they were perceived by all the clans, who first perceived that the continue conflict amongst the clans was having a detrimental effect on the wellbeing of the nation. The unending conflict would if unchecked denude the clans to such an extent that eventually they would become a dying race. Nor did they want a too powerful clan leader to emerge which could threaten their own independence. To that end they met in a great congress to determine how best they could advice their people and protect their status.

For many months they debated, argued, seeking an answer. In the end it was only when they sought advice from their own oral history that they found the answer. That history told of a time when the Clan nation were threaten by a great evil and that it was only when a great leader, Enderory, who had come forward to lead them did they overcome that great evil. Enderory had been chosen by a grand council of clan leaders and Wiseman but on the understanding that once the great evil had been defeated he would resume his role as leader of his own clan. It was not lost on lost on the priesthood that the Clan nation was not facing an enemy that wishes to eliminate them; the enemy was within, and it was the Clans themselves that was the great enemy, but how best to explain that to Clan leaders who jealously guarded their own ambitions off greatness, they would see such a leader as diminishing their own ambition whilst the smaller clan would see in such a leader protection from their ambitious neighbours. In the end that priestly group of men called a great assembly of Clan leaders backed up with the threat that any clan leader that did not attend would find themselves without the service of a Wiseman, teacher and keeper of the folklore.

The debate within the great assembly want on for nearly a year before agreement was reached. In the end they agreed that a leader would be elected from amongst them to rule over all; his children and their children would take up the leadership to the end of time. If no children were born to a leader another assembly would be held to elect a new leader. The role of the leader would be that of an arbitrator whose ruling would be binding on all. But it was also agreed that this new leader could not interfere in the affairs of the individual clans. He would only be asked to arbitrate in matters that crossed clan boundaries. In this he would be assisted by a Wiseman elected from the priestly group. This Wiseman, unlike the leader with his rights of succession would be appointed from those that he taught. Any clan that refused to abide by the leader and Wiseman ruling would be declared outlawed. Such a person would know that both the leader of the clans supported by the Wiseman would place a duty upon all other to eradicate the offending clan leader. In this way peace came to the prairies.

For centuries the Clans of the great prairies had live an uneasy co-existence with their neighbours to the south. Twice a year a great market would take place between the two Kingdome at which the surplus beast of the prairies could be exchanged for those item that the Clan people could not produce themselves. The great market would take place along the borders of the two Kingdome. As a nomadic people the Clans had no use for town or city; a few insubstantial settlements were established in those few areas where the land was fertile enough to sustain the growing off vegetables. The only two settlement that could be remotely described as a town was a collect of single stories mud brick buildings situated next to an even more remote river. It was here that the leader of the people had his home, the only building that had more than two rooms. It was here also that other leaders of the Clans would sent their best and brightest to learn at the feet of the Wiseman and his small group of teachers the oral folklore of the Nation and other matters relating to the wellbeing of the clans for none could write or read apart from a select few who were sent to Saliband to learn; on their return they would settle in the second settlement that was established on the border between the two nations. There they would act in the interest of the people when trading with the Saliband.

No single teacher could hope to know the full oral history of the Clans so each teacher specialised in one aspect of the history of the people; only the best of these pupils would then be passed on to be taught by the Wiseman himself, and it was from this elite group of pupils that future teachers would be drawn. It was from this group of teachers that the next Wiseman would be elected. Those pupils that did not achieve greatness where sent back to their clans to perform the roles as local teachers and Wiseman. None saw dishonor in being sent back to the Clan, none, maybe other than the pupil himself. It was this rather curious method that the People of the great prairie were able to find the best person to take up the duties of Wiseman.

The present holder of the title was Candafali who had held the title of Wiseman for a dozen years or more. A third son of a minor Clan chief he had expected to spend the rest of his life with his father’s herds. As a young boy he had been given the responsibility due to a Clan leaders son, first the docile sheep that were always close to the Clan settlement and then once he was old enough, the more frisky goats and cattle; Not all of his time was spent thus, each quarter years his father would move the clan to richer feeding grounds and once a camp had been established he would be required with the other young boys, not required to look after the herds, to sit at the feet of the local teacher, learn of some of the history of the Clans.

For Candafali they were carefree days. He loved nothing better than to sleep under the open skies watching the stars as they moved across the night sky. Occasionally the stars would be joined by one of the two moons and once a year both moons would fill the night skies flooding the prairies in a silvery light. In the winter he would erect a tent and with his dogs would sleep until dawn broke knowing that if the was anything untoward his dogs would alert him. Every month he would be relieved by another clansman and he would return to the campsite set up by his clan.

Over time the local teacher, an old man called Kelder, had seen that Candafali had an aptitude for what was being taught. He could recall without flews, word for word, what had been taught not only that day but weeks before. Seeing this the teacher had spoken to his father, persuading him that the boy ought to be sent to the Wiseman of the Clans; to learn at the feet of teacher more able then he was, although he suspected that it would take little persuasion for the father to send Candafali to learn at the feet of a better teacher then he was, what did a clan leader need with a third son?

So it was that one summer day he had been summons to his father tent, there to be told that he was being sent away to be taught under the guidance of the Wiseman of the Clans. He had objected, stamped his feet, argued with his father that he was of a greater value to him than being sent to some out of the way place.

For what; He had demanded; Were there no others that could be taught. He had asked.

His father had tried to explain to him that in all matters to do with teaching then Kelder was the person who made the decision not he and in this he must agree. Still he had argued, had threaten to run away from the Wiseman camp, return home. For the first and only time his father had struck him a blow, an open hand across his cheek. He had fared worst from the boys he associated with, had fought in fights coming away with a bloody nose or two, but never had his father raised a hand to him. Now stunned into silence his father had made it clear to him that if he did that which he had just threaten to do then he would no longer be seen as a member of the Clan, he would be outlawed, a man without the protection of the law, pray to anyone who happen upon him. He had tried to get his mother to intercede on his behalf with both Father and Kelder but to no avail, she had repeated what his father had told him. Kelder had a duty to seek out those that had the gift of learning and none may gainsay him on this.

At first he had resented being sent away, the parting with his parents and friends had been painful, to add to his desolation was the knowledge of leaving his faithful dogs behind. They had been his constant companion since being given them as puppies. It had been him that had train them, him that had punished them when they had done things wrong and him that had made a fuss over them when they had got it right. He remembered one occasion when the two dogs had ravage a lamb whilst he was training them, his father had heard of it, had demanded that he hand the dogs over to him. Candafali had pleaded with his father knowing what would happen to the dogs if he did so, they would be destroyed. His father had eventually given in to his pleading but on the understanding that if it happens again there would be no second chance. Candafali had work hard with the dogs making sure that there was no second mishap. Now here he was, having to say goodbye to them, not knowing when he would see them again.

He was determine that he would do so badly at his learning that the teachers would be forced to send him back to his family. But it did not turn out that way. He found that not only did he have the gift for learning but he enjoyed it. In the small group he joined he excelled. When the time came for those identified as not having the skills needed to move to the next stage of learning he fared that he might be chosen to be sent back to his clan. His name was not called out and he along with a smaller group proceeded to the next stage in the process. This time to learn under the tutorage of teachers one step removed from the Wiseman of the Clans. Over time his skill outshone even these teachers and soon he was with a select group of a dozen young men being taught by the Wiseman himself. It was a small step then to be chosen to become Wiseman on the death of the present holder.

Thus his life had settled into a routine; it was his practice each morning to teach to a select group of pupils then following a later lunch, his stomach full of food and beer or wine, it matter not to him which, he would doze outside his dwelling, allowing the midday sun to lull him to dream. He would explain to any who might challenge him on this, and few would dear challenge the Wiseman, that it was time spent reviewing that morning lesson, off course there was some truth in what he said but more often than not he would be dreaming of other inconsequence matters; matters which had very little to do with his teaching.

Yet where once a light sleep would come unbidden, he found that now there was unease; over the last few months his afternoon naps had been disturbed by ‘What.’ He could not explain nor understand what was happening to him. It was as if someone or something was calling to him. It was this unknown which now plagued him so. So bad did it come that his world of certainty was unravelling, coming apart.

At first he had searched his mind for an explanation but none would come. Was there something new in his diet, although he could not work out what that might be; like all clansman he was conservative in his ways, did not like change. Never the less he had held long conversation with his cook, had even started to supervise the preparation of his meals, varied different elements but whatever he and his cook did it changed nothing. The disturbed still continued. He had, has befit a Wiseman of the Clans, started to analyse this strange occurrence. He had noted that his night-time sleeping patterns were not affected, at night he still slept, had dreams, still woke refreshed the next day.

No whatever was affecting him only occurred during the day. His problem was who could consult; he only had his vast knowledge that he held within his mind. Now he started a search of that storeroom of knowledge. For weeks he revisited that storeroom, seeking answers in every nock and cranny. But still the answer evaded him.

Has Wiseman of the people he was expected to learn and pass on the history of the Clans, the process being by rhythmic verse? But no man however skilled in the art could hope to retain the whole of a peoples oral history, To that end each of his acolyte would be master of some different aspect, whiles he would take upon himself those aspect which were considered of greater importance. The more he searched his mind and failed to identify the answer the more frustrated he became. Somewhere he knew laid the answer.

So vex did he become with his failure that he began to excuse himself from his primary function as the Wiseman, that of teaching others. It was a task that he loved but how could he teach tormented as he was. The answer when it came; came not from within his own storeroom of knowledge but from one of his acolyte. He was taking a stroll amongst the different groups of students setting at the feet of their teachers listening to their chanting the verse just taught them when he came across one of his brighter acolyte by the name of Hamish. He had no idea what the subject that Hamish was trying to impart to this eager group, would have carried on with his strolling had not the verse Hamish was reciting stopped him in his track.

"And with blood dried

On fires red hot

And then to mixes with herbs

Of Timal and the red poppy

In waters boiled did

The Wiseman of old

Commute with their Gods."

He stood and listens, there was nothing unusual in the way that the pupils were being taught for much of the history of the clans was taught in such a manner, by way of rhyming verse. There were many days when he would sit and listen to the teaching and allowing the flow of the verse to lull him into a catnap. But not today, it was the last line which had forced him to stop and listen: ‘Commute with the Gods’ now he stood to one side waiting impatiently for the lesson that Hamish was taking to end. Once the lesson ended Candafali beckon Hamish over.

Hamish once you’re teaching is over this morning come and share bread with me; fined someone who can take over your teaching role for the next few weeks for I have another task for you. But it is best if we do that in the quite of my home, away from the noise and bustle of the camp.

For Hamish the request came as a surprise, he had seen the Wiseman pass his group, had seen him stop and listen to the rest of the lesson. At first he had given it little thought, it was not un-usual for the Wiseman to take note of what was being taught but normally he would stay but moments then continue with his strolling. But not today; had he done some wrong, had he been remiss in some ways with his teaching? He hoped not for like his mentor, Candafali, teaching was what he loved doing. He also knew that Candafali suffered fools badly, was known to dismiss and send back to their Clans those that failed to reach a high level of competence. Was he about to be dismissed? He desperately hoped not. He tried to recall has much of what he had been teaching when Candafali had stopped to listen to him. Try has he might he could find no fault in his teaching. So it was a vexed Hamish who prepared himself to meet with the Wiseman at the end of his teaching that afternoon.

Chapter 2

Hamish

Hamish had always known what he wanted to do, not for him the life of following the herds from one feeding ground to the next. He had had at an early age a love of learning. At first when too young to join the group being taught sat to one side and listen to the teaching, he had been spellbound by the stories that the Wiseman of his clan were teaching to elder boys. He had but to close his eyes and he was transported to those time being taught. The times of inter clan warfare, the tale of a great leader, Enderory, who had saved the clan in their darkest hour. His presence at those teaching session had not gone un-noticed by the Wiseman Gratis. Has he grow he stated to pester Gratis, asking that he become his bag carrier on Gratis frequent expedition to collect the herbs needed for medication. As the second son of a clan warrior his future as a clansman was bleak but Gratis saw in the young boy that makings of a great teacher, one that might one day become the Wiseman of the Clans. To that end he had spoken with Hamish father, persuaded him to send him to be taught at the feet of better teachers then he. His father had agreed for what use had he for a second son, a daughter would have been more profitable. With a daughter he could have had a chance to increase if influence within the clan. So it was that Hamish had been sent off to be taught by some of the best teachers that the clans had. He had done well and progressed to become one of that small group from which future Wiseman of the Clans are chosen.

That afternoon he had been summons by Candafali to meet with him once his lesson were done. Once more and not for the first time since Candafali had asked him to meet up with him later that day did Hamish ask himself what he might have done wrong. On reaching Candafali dwelling Hamish stepped inside not waiting to be inviting in. It was a room that he had visited many time, knew the layout of the room. A bed, a stove for cooking and heating and very little else; Hamish found Candafali seated with his back to one wall deep in thought.

Hamish waited for Candafali to come out of whatever doze he was in. In fact Candafali had closed his eyes a little while back comforted by the smell of the cooking. His housekeeper, Hilder, grumbling at having to prepare an extra potion for his guest; she was a widower whose husband had been killed when a herd of cattle had stampede and he had not been swift enough to get out of their way. Her loss was his gain for she turned out to be an excellent cook. Candafali sensing Hamish presence opens his eyes, seeing this Hamish asked;

Have I displeased you master. The nervous acolyte asked.

Candafali looking up at the nervous young acolyte and smiled;

No Hamish, what gave you that impression.

I saw you stop and listen to my teaching, and then you ask me to join you Master.

I am sorry if I gave you any such impression Hamish; no I am more than satisfied with the way that you teach. No it was the verse about commuting with the gods that I wanted to talk with you about. Can you recite the whole of that verse for me?

Hamish heaved a big sigh of relief; it was not unknown for the master to call one of his acolyte to help him with a problem Now he sat down on the hard packed floor of the dwelling crossed legged, thought back to the verse he had been teaching the group as Candafali had come passed and then stopped.

"And with blood dried

On fires red hot

And then to mixes with herbs

Of Timal and the red poppy

In waters boiled did

The Wiseman of old

Commute with their Gods."

Tell me Hamish what that verse signifies.

The verse refers to an old ceremony that in eons passed was used by the Wiseman to talk to those who inhabit the spirit world Master. But the ceremony has not been used since a Wiseman of old claimed it to be against the nature of the Gods.

For a moment Candafali sat silently as he took in both the verse and its meaning, although he did not show it he was excited by what he had heard.

Tell me Hamish, does it have to be the blood of a human?

I don’t know Master. I can if you wish research the matter.

Yes; but first you will need to find someone to take over your duties of teaching.

Yes Master. In fact Hamish was amazed by Candafali statement. It was nearly unheard of for one of acolyte to be excused their teaching duties, and signified that he was being given an important job of work to do, but for what reason he could not comprehend.

Good; I now want you to do some research into this subject, seek out if necessary from others references in other verses, not just those you know about, talk to all and learn more about this matter of commuting with the Gods.

Now for the first time in a long time Candafali could enjoy a meal, it was as if getting Hamish to do the research into the verse had broken a spell that had been set upon him.

Now alone once more he sat and thought on what he had just heard. Was it possible that someone or something from the spiritual plain was trying to contact him, and if so why. Looking out of the single window he saw that night was fast approaching; now he thought was not the right time to begin his exploration of this new mystery, Time enough tomorrow. Yet although he had determine to put aside the difficulty to another day, that night sleep conspired to force him to think of the problem.

It was a weary Candafali who called Hamish to join him the following morning following a fugal breakfast. Candafali then told Hamish of the disturbances he had been experiencing over the last few weeks. Told him that he intended to seek a way of gaining access to this spiritual world; but he wanted Hamish to concentrate his research on three aspects; the first was ‘What was the meaning behind the Wiseman of old claiming it was against the Nature of the Gods. Secondly he wanted Hamish to explore what danger awaited anyone who attempted to commute with those on the spiritual plain and lastly, what was required to bring about that access, meanwhile he would do his own research into the subject and on a regular basis they would come together and exchange what they had learnt.

For days now Hamish had sat alone, trawling his mind for information. Talking to other teachers he learnt that there were indication that at one time human blood had been used, that eventually the blood of beast were used instead and it was this aspect that a previous Wiseman had deemed it against the nature of the Gods for it conflicted with the notion dearly held that a beast should only be killed to feed the clans. But why would anyone want to access the spiritual world?

The reason he also learnt was that it would be used to try and predict anything from weather patterns to explaining cataclysms event that might befall the Clans. Now an idea was forming in his mind. He had wrestled with whether to talk over his idea with Candafali and in the end decided not to do so. He knew that if any ill fortune befall Candafali he would never be able to forgive himself, he also knew that Candafali would take onto himself the risk rather than someone else, for that reason he had decided to take on the risk himself after all he was just a pupil of the Wiseman.

The following day found Hamish some distant from the settlement. He had told no one where he was going, knowing that if he did question would follow and he might let slip some clue as to what he was attempting. No better this way and if by chance the worst happen well the Clan would give him a decent send-off.

He had been walking now for the best part of three hours, far enough from the settlement that a chance meeting was unlikely. Over his shoulder he carried a satchel containing a small flask of cow blood, a copper pot and a folding tripod on which to hang the copper pot over a fire. Like all Clans man he also carried a flask of water. Now all he needed to find were the two herbs mentioned in the Verse, not a difficult task if one knew where to look.

Candafali was not paying attention to what Kalido was saying, his mind elsewhere. Kalido, his senior acolyte and the one who would take over from him should some misfortune befall him was giving his weekly briefing to Candafali. Normally Candafali would take a great interest in this weekly session but not today. It was only when Kalido stopped talking that Candafali realised that he had not been taking notice of what senior acolyte had been telling him.

I am sorry Kalido but today my mind is on other matters, please forgive me. But there is something you can do for me, fetch Hamish, I want to speak with him.

Forgive me Master but Hamish is not in the settlement, he left early this morning telling me he had matters of great importance to see to, that hopefully he would be back later this evening.

He did not tell you what this matter of great importance was? Asked Candafali, a warning bell sounding in his mind at this unsettling news;

No Master.

Candafali felt a coldness grip him. What was so important that he felt compelled to leave the settlement without first informing him, Hamish knew the great importance that he placed on him to do the research? What could he be playing at? No; the young fool could not be thinking of actually performing the blood ceremony.

Kalido get Sander and some worriers. I need to find the fool before he does himself harm.

Harm Master;

No time for explanation, do as I bid, NOW.

Hamish had found the perfect spot; far enough away from the settlement but near enough in the event that something should happen to him for his body to be found. Now he set out his equipment not that there was a lot to set out, just the tripod on which to hang the pot in which to boil the blood then the water. As part of his preparation he built a fire but did not light it, that would come later, it would not do for any smoke from the fire to alert someone that might be looking for him and then want looking for those herbs that he needed for the concoction he was to make. They were easily found as they grow in abundance on the Great Prairies; now all was ready, yet he hesitated, the oral histories only gave hints as to how to proceed. It was one of the reasons he had taken it upon himself to experiment, better he then the Wiseman, for he was after all expendable.

First he boiled the blood until only a thick residue remained, this he allowed to cool. Now he grounded it into a fine powder into which he mixed the herbs he had found earlier; adding water he brought the mixture to the boil. Then saying a silence prey to his God he took a sip.

So foul was the taste that he was almost tempted to spit it out; but by using all of his willpower he persisted and continues to swallow the foul mixture? At first there was no discernible effect on him and for a brief moment he thought that the experiment had failed. Suddenly his mind exploded into a riot of colour; scenes from his pass parading through his befuddle mind. Here he was being taught at the feet of Candafali, now talking to his Father long dead, then tending the herds of goats and sheep, all passing through his mind instantaneously leaving a ghost impression for him to marvel at. Then his mind cleared and the world about him came into clear focus. What he was to see sent a tremor through him? He was no longer on the desert floor but floating high above.

Looking down he could see his crumble body next to the small fire he had used to boil the water needed for the mixture he had drunk. He could perceive no movement in the inert body and feared that he might have died. It was then that he noticed a thin line of something going from his floating self to his inert body on the ground. What that link was he had no idea. Some innate instinct told him that he still lived and that the link with his body was in fact his link with live.

Looking around him he noticed two things, the first was that he was clothed in a white smock. He had no recollection how that came about and the second was that he could see over a great distant. What to do now he wondered. Looking up he willed himself high into the air. Almost immediately his ghostly self-rose high into the air, in his mind he screamed stop and once more his ghostly-self came to a sudden sicking halt. He needed to take stock of events, looking down he saw that he was now at a great height, his earthly body a pinprick on the prairie floor. It was then that he spotted movement on the distant horizon. Seven riders coming towards his camp site; ever now and again the group would stop and one of the riders dismounts looking closely at the ground. It was obvious that they were following his trail. Although he could not make out individuals amongst the group he knew with a certainty that Candafali would be one of the groups. Now would be a good time to find out if he was still alive he thought. Closing his eyes he willed himself back to his earthly body. Once more the speed in which he returned to it was sickening.

Candafali, with Sander and his escort of warriors, had been following Hamish tracks for the best part of an hour. It was Sander who first spotted Hamish body slump on the ground, quickly digging his spurs into the flanks of his horse he galloped to the makeshift camp followed closely by a worried Candafali. Without waiting to be asked Sander dismounted and dashed to where the motionless body of the young acolyte laid. Reaching down he searched for a pulse in the young man’s neck, finding one he turned and looked upward to where Candafali was still sitting on his horse.

He is still alive Wiseman; I can feel a strong pulse.

Now Candafali dismounted, walked to where his young acolyte laid, saw that his breathing was strong.

Water, give me some water. He demanded of no one in particular. Hurry; Sander help me to sit him up.

Sander knelt down and supporting Hamish sat him up. Candafali holding the flask of water that one of the escorts had passed to him brought the neck of the flask to Hamish mouth and poured a good few droplets into the young man mouth. It seemed to have the desired effect for Hamish started to splutter.

So young man you are still alive. Said Candafali; I hope you have a good explanation for me as to why you risked your life without first consulting me as to what you intended;

Hamish, his eyes still unfocused from the experiment looked around. After some effort he was once more able to focus.

I’m sorry master but I know that you would have refused me permission, I though it better that I risk my life then you risk yours.

Candafali was touched by the young man’s concern for his wellbeing but still angry that he should have taken such a risk without first consulting him.

That as maybe young man but that would be my decision to make not yours but we can discuss that another day, tell me what happen, do not leave out an details how ever inconsequential you may feel they be.

Has Hamish told his tale Candafali had to use all of his willpower not to let his excitement show?

Tell me, did you see anything or anyone.

No Master, but I did find myself floating above my immobile body, I could also see over vast distance, it was how I knew that you were riding in my direction.

So you entered the spiritual plain. Did you see another spirit there?

No Master.

Turning to Sander who was still holding Hamish in a sitting position looking puzzle at the conversation taking place he said;

We will camp here tonight Sander. Get your men to set up a camp.

The following day after Hamish had had a chance to get a good night sleep Candafali sat down with him and insisted that he tell his story again and once more warning him not to leave out any detail. This second telling of the tale did not change from the first telling which gave Candafali confidence that Hamish had not missed out any vital details. He was intending to repeat the experiment himself once back at the settlement so it was important that he learnt all of what Hamish had done.

It was two day later that Candafali sat outside his humble dwelling. For two days he had been deep in thought over what Hamish had done. Occasionally the aroma of lamb stew would break into his thoughts. Any other time he would enjoy such smells but now it was not possible. Another gentle breeze blew away the aroma of the lamb stew, replacing it with a freshness that blows away the cobwebs of his mind.

He could smell the coming winter, what need did he have for watching the progress of the sun as it travelled through the sky to know of the coming seasons. Has he dozed in the weak warmth of the late afternoon his mind took him back to when as a child, living with his clan he became old enough to be given the duties of looking after some of the clan goats. He would spend days out on the grasslands following the goats as they sought fresh grasses. His only companions the two dogs he had raised from puppies. They were devoted to him and he had taught them well. They could distinguish from the tone of his voice whether to go left or right or just sit. It was the way of the Clans that young boys learn to become self-sufficient at an early age. They had to learn to live off the land carrying what little supplies they could and then to manage those meager supplies until such time as they were relieved. For Candafali it was the best of times, alone under the vast skies with just his dogs. A week would pass before another boy would come and take his place then he would make his way back to the Clan campsite. There his education would continue, he would be taught horsemanship, how to ride bareback using just his knees to guild the horse, how to use the short bow made of parts of the animals that were slaughtered for their meat, how to use every last morsel from a slaughter animal, its flesh, blood, and skin. Very little was wasted even down to some of its stomach and intestines which where use in cooking or making sausages. The one task he hated was the actual slaughtering. At times it was as if the beast to be slaughter knew its fate and set off a melancholy cry of despair, but he was to learn quickly that such sentimentality had no place in the clans. He was quick enough to partake in a rich beef roast or stew, and then the sad cry of the beast was forgotten.

Once more the aroma of the cooking lamb stew disturbed his thoughts. He hoped that with the stew would be served sweet peas. Just thinking about them sent him back to his childhood. Every two months traders would come to their camp sites, how they found the campsite was a mystery to him then as it was now, but find them they did. In their wagon would be those items that they could not produce or grow themselves, an exchange of cattle, goats and sheep. Of all the goods that were exchanged it was sweet peas that Candafali most looked forward too. So addictive to them was he that he would try and bargain with his younger brothers and sisters for their share, and if they were not willing to trade would even offer treats to them, that was until his father found out and put a stop to it. How he treasured those moments of recollection.

The day had come when the clan was visited by one of the Wiseman acolytes who having consulted with Kelder had out of the blue chosen him of the entire youngster in the clan as a pupil for the Wiseman. He had objected, argued with his father, pleaded with his mother not to be sent but to no avail. Once chosen regardless of what status you might hold in the clan you went. As the third son of the Clan leader he had felt safe from such selection. Had not his elder brother gone some years before to sit at the Wiseman feet to be taught the lore of the clans? But his Father had taken him to one side, told him that his elder brother had gone so that he could learn his duties to the Clans as its next Clan Chief, His choosing was different. One day his father had told him that if he worked hard,