Chapter Three: Fruition and Failure
From his vantage point in the towering oak Kannis could see the town of Wilderben in its entirety. It was not a large settlement, a few thousand dwellings at most. There was no uniformity to the place. Like any dream-town it was a compendium of architectural styles; tall white towers sat next to domed mud huts, neatly made wooden cabins were back-to-back with strange structures made from leaves and movable trees.
The reason Wilderben existed was that it had an inkling well. The well was housed within the Ivy House, a white-brick building in the centre of the town, where the towns Arbiter, Ilas Defain lived and worked.
Though it was well after darkfall the town was illuminated by thousands of crystal lanterns sitting atop poles.
Kannis was pleased to see a distinct lack of activity in Wilderben. Time was still on his side, there were no silver claws in sight which meant that even if the palace knew about the waking of Anthony Hallow they had not yet begun to seek him outside of the city. Confident that there was no threat within the township, Kannis descended from his vantage point and wandered out of the trees onto the streets of Wilderben.
As he made his way along the muddy roads he spied few people. A group of rowdy badger walkers passed him, seemingly drunk on mill mead. They asked Kannis if he'd hunted any nice rabbits recently but the talented jackal ignored them, he was not here to tussle with the locals.
Several frog witches loitered in the porch of one establishment. They croaked and snapped their long tongues about catching flies. They asked Kannis if he would like to be turned into a charming prince. He told them that he was already charming and had no desire to be a prince. They croaked away at that and he headed off up the street.
Up near the centre of town there were several mill mead bars close to the Ivy House. The Gloating Bear, Fenn’s Cauldron and The Cat’s Seventh were all in the vicinity. As such the streets were slightly more crowded in this part of town. Kannis's eyes swept back and forth constantly scanning the crowd for any threats but there were none and it was with relief that he reached the stone porch of the Ivy House.
Two humanoid guardsmen stood before the white swinging doors. The Mercurial Chambers and Royal Palaces might be guarded by tallow bears and silver claws but out here in the sticks the Arbiters had to make do with the dreams of men to police their establishments.
“Purpose in the Ivy House?” asked the left guard, a portly and bearded gentleman.
“I wish to use the inkling”, growled back Kannis.
“A hound who can write?” japed the same guard with a distinctly unfriendly smile on his face. Before Kannis could retort, however, the other guard spoke up.
“Ignore Quinn, he's just annoyed at being on night duty again. Proceed, stranger”, he said, giving the portly man a withering look. The portly guard grumbled and looked away. The other guard was thinner and had short dark hair with a humorous glint in his eye.
“My thanks”, said Kannis, pushing the white wooden doors aside. As he walked down the corridor he could not help the anger building in him. The attitude of the badger walkers and the humanoids riled him more than he let on. There was a time when the talented jackals were respected and feared in Avalen, if their plans came to fruition then those days would soon come again and people like Quinn would learn harsh lessons from their mockery.
The corridors of the Ivy House were lit by lamps instead of crystal, which was unusual. Crystal lighting gave a clear unwavering light whilst the burning lamps on the walls allowed the gloom to gather in many corners and had a distinct odour. Kannis saw a sign indicating the offices of the Arbiter and another to indicate the presence of the inkling. He followed the second sign and soon found himself in the inkling room.
There were around a dozen other occupants, none of whom even so much as glanced up as he entered. The well itself was situated in the middle of the room. Dozens of pipes emerged from it and ran to the communication stations situated around the edges of the room. On his journey to Wilderben, Kannis had gone over the plan in his head many times; there were many of the Long Tooths who had objected to his idea. They'd proposed marching on the Mercurial Chamber in force but Kannis had advocated stealth and they had eventually backed down after he pointed out how much closer the City of Fenn was to the chambers than Eredyss where they made their home.
They had objected further when he told them that he intended to ditch the sorrow hawk and make his way on foot to the Lair. But again they backed down when he pointed out that Corul Geddon’s people would be looking for a sorrow hawk and that, despite the creature’s speed, it could not hope to out-fly The Lonely Ghost and a fleet of sky-ships. Kannis understood the desire of many of his brothers to begin using force openly against the minions of Fenngaard, but they had to be cautious until they had Anthony and until he was ready.
As Kannis sat at the communication station and prepared to use the inkling his thoughts turned to Anthony Hallow. Kannis had given him scant information and scant reason to trust him. All the talented jackal could hope was that Hallow was who they thought he was and that he would still be there when he returned. Though he'd been certain of Anthony’s fear and worry when he left him in the clearing he hoped that these feelings would keep him in the same spot and prevent him wandering. In the event that he had run, however, Kannis was confident in his abilities to track him down.
The communication station consisted of a desk with privacy boarding on either side to separate it from the adjacent stations. From beneath the wooden surface came a clump of thin blue tentacles that seemed to blur and move as if they were flowing back and forth. They joined onto a piece of very old paper, weaving into it like blue veins. Next to this was a pot of ink and a feather with which to write.
The inkling wells were left over from the days when the Dreaming Sea still covered Avalen. They contained the original elements of the sea which had been used by Fenn to create the land. It was found that if this liquid substance was refined it could be used to communicate across large distances. The inkling recognised thought patterns as well as individual phrases and code words which mean it could be used to communicate securely and discreetly between two individuals who knew each other and possessed a matching set of codes.
In addition to these codes the inkling stations also used physical keys. On the wall above the paper was an opening which would hold a key of many different shapes. Two keys, made to precisely the same dimensions would activate a link between two stations and then you could then confirm the presence on the other end via a code. There were hundreds of inkling wells across the kingdom and they were a vital tool for communicating over large distances.
Kannis carried with him a key in the shape of a Lyrilian butterfly which he inserted into the slot above the paper. Back in Eredyss, Rostrom had a key of the same making which would already have been placed, waiting in the inkling of the lair.
Kannis took up the feather, gathered some ink and started to write on the piece of old yellowed paper.
Down by the house on Berrytree Lane,
the guilders boy howls in pain.
Kannis sat back and waited. He knew that one of his brothers at the inkling station in Eredyss had been watching and would have seen the words appear on their own paper. It might take a minute or two for Rostrom to make his way to the station and use the reply that the two of them had agreed upon. Sure enough, less than a minute later, from nowhere words began to write themselves on the sheet before him.
He gave his life to the guild of rites.
Now he is all covered in righteous bites.
Kannis responded with the second part of their code.
Perhaps he should have spurned the maid
and then not lost the game she played.
The response was almost immediate.
Perhaps may be an awful word,
maybe perhaps is just absurd.
Confirmation. Before leaving the caverns of Eredyss, Rostrom and Kannis had carefully memorised all the
passages of their code; those combined with the butterfly key were the surest way possible that Kannis was talking to his kin. Despite this Kannis would be careful not to use any names or other information which would give away his location. The chances of Eredyss having been compromised were remote, but a remote chance could still spell failure.
Greetings brother, the words appeared on the paper before him.
Greetings to you my kin, he wrote back.
How goes your quest? wrote Rostrom
My path is straight and unopposed. The Sad Father has awoken.
He sits at your side?
He waits beneath the leaves, scribbled Kannis
Beware the silver hands that will reach forth to steal your fate.
I am wary and well. We will walk the wooded path home and see you in a score of the turning of the light, wrote Kannis.
I will fill the forest and the mountains with welcome to bring you home to us, came Rostrom’s reply, which Kannis found comforting. The longer that Anthony spent in Avalen the more intense the search would become, it was a relief that other members of the pack were waiting for them.
Any word from our brother beyond the gate? asked Kannis.
No word, nor could there be. But the presence of a dreamer in the forest is testament to his success, we must have faith in our brother, responded Rostrom. Kannis had to agree. Elstein was one of the most gifted jackals, if anyone could have pulled off such a feat it was him. They could only hope that he was able to protect Anthony’s mortal body for long enough. The thought that he had Ilich to help him with that inspired a degree of confidence.
When you leave your footsteps in the snow then we will meet again. Good fortune brave brother, may you deliver us our dream, said Rostrom in closing. That was a comfort as well - Snowdell was at about the halfway mark in their journey so to have the protection of the pack from this point on would be a boon. How he had longed to have their aid from the outset, but his own advice came back to him. A large group is too easy to spot and track, they would be much better moving as a stealthy pair.
Good fortune to you too brother, hunt well and sleep soundly.
Hunt well and sleep soundly, came the final words from his mentor and brother.
Kannis watched the last inky words fade on the page before removing the butterfly key. The link was broken and his task was complete. In the flickering torchlight he made his way over to a refreshments table and poured himself a glass of warm lemon water. Referring to Anthony as the Sad Father made Kannis think of the prophecy again, it was on this that everything hinged. Rostrom was convinced that Anthony was the Sad Father referred to in the Night Book. Kannis had leapt on board and now they were leading their people down the path to war, but beyond the war lay the victory to which their people had a destined right.
Kannis finished his water and left the inkling well. He stepped out onto the porch and took in the night air. Talented jackals earned their name for many reasons, one of these being their perceptiveness. As soon as he left the Ivy House, Kannis knew that something was wrong. He looked into the deserted street, the mill mead taverns were still open and if anything the crowds should have been growing. Yet there was not a soul to be seen, nor could any kind of carousing or rough-housing be heard. Not a song broke the night or the merry cheer of cheer and merriment.
He looked to his left and right where Quinn and the friendly guardsmen stood. Both were still and silent, pinned to the wall by the blades, the handles emerging from their eye sockets. Thick tears of blood ran down their faces and dripped onto the white stone of the porch.
It was not yet time to run, Kannis was a tactician. The Ivy House was no doubt secure; it was probable that some of the occupants of the inkling well, who had done such a fine job of acting nonchalant when he'd entered, were likely to be part of the enemy force.
Instead of running he stood on the porch and waited for the enemy to show themselves. He did not wait long. One by one, starting at the other end of town, the crystal lanterns were extinguished until Wilderben was lit by moonlight alone. Out there in the silvery shadows Kannis's keen eyes caught movement.
“A jackal in the dark is just as deadly”, he called, deciding it was time to draw them on their purpose. Although the two dead guardsmen had already made plain what they intended, Kannis would like to identify them if he could.
“A jackal in the dark is just as alone”, a voice replied. It was not one he recognised. An old voice, deep, proud and carrying a great weight of power behind it.
“I would have not thought the honour of the silver claws would allow them to seek such advantages.”
“Our claws are not silver which you well know and we seek advantage less than we do secrecy. The advantage is ours, no matter the level of lighting.”
“I hope you carry a weapon as weighty as your confidence”, Kannis called back at the voice. He was still none the wiser as to who is assailants were. The voice was unrecognisable and all he could make out in the dark were faint shades moving furtively between buildings. For a moment he spared a thought as to what had happened to the townsfolk. There must have been thousands of dreams living in Wilderben; they were now either cowering or dead, and in no position to help the talented jackal.
“You will see”, was the ominous reply. Almost as soon as the words had reached Kannis a ball of flames erupted out of the darkness. Kannis ducked down with lightning-fast reflexes and the flames struck the top of the doorway, which caught light instantly and began to blaze. Kannis whispered a dream weave and a small ball of blue fire appeared in his own hand. He sent if flying in the direction the enemy projectile had come from before throwing himself backwards through the burning doorway, turning and running down the corridor. As he ran he heard what remained of the door explode inwards from the force of another enemy missile.
This time Kannis took the turning which led to the offices of the town’s Arbiter. The route led up a stairwell and Kannis took the stairs three at a time. From behind him his keen ears heard the crunch of many armoured feet on the wooden floor of the Ivy House.
As he reached the top of the stairs a doorway opposite opened and he finally saw one of his enemies. It was a hulking figure in grey armour; he wore no emblems and no adornments. The armour was plain, but thick and durable. His face was completely covered by a visor. In his hands was a huge broadsword which he swung sideways with enough force to cut Kannis in half. The jackal leapt upwards to avoid the blow which missed and demolished the wall at the side of the stairway. Kannis dropped nimbly to the floor before turning and delivering a hard kick to the chest plate of the off balance opponent, who was thrown back through the door which he'd come through.
A quick glance through the opening the destroyed wall had left revealed a bed chamber and on the bed lay a person who Kannis perceived to be Arbiter Illas Defaine. The Arbiter’s dead eyes stared vacantly at Kannis as he scrabbled through the opening and made his way across the room. The sound of heavy boots could be heard on the stairwell as the jackal pushed open the bay windows and vaulted from the balcony to the street below.
Almost as soon as he'd landed he heard a boom and rolled to narrowly escape another fireball flung in his direction. This time he ran into the darkness in the direction the attack had come from. Again he whispered a dream weave and threw his own admittedly smaller ball of blue flame at the enemy. By its light he saw several of the grey armoured knights frantically working around a cannon of some kind. His fireball struck it and sent the knights around flying backwards though the air.
Kannis stopped for a moment to examine the burning weapon. The sky-ships of Fenn were equipped with such weapons which they called sabre cannons. Though there were similarities here this weapon was of a different style, an older design. There was a nagging familiarity about it that Kannis could not put his finger on. If he'd had time to examine the weapon further he might have placed the memory, but he heard shouts and saw dozens of the grey knights running through the darkness towards him.
/> Kannis ran and leapt from the top of the burning cannon onto the roof of the nearest building. He ran along the rooftops of Wilderben, he leapt and jumped across the mud huts, the cabins, the white stone temples and the pyramid shaped structures. He swung through the branches of the tree-houses as he made his way towards the edge of town. As he went they tracked him with their cannons but he was always too fast. There must have been dozens of them situated throughout the town, but whenever the rain of fire landed on a building or cluster of homesteads Kannis had moved on.
At the edge of Wilderben he dropped down into the alley by which he'd first entered the town. Three of the grey knights ran at him. He ducked under the first broadsword and jumped into the air striking the other two about the head simultaneously, one with a foot the other with a curled fist. They dropped silently to the ground; the talented jackals knew how to pack a punch. As he landed he whispered, turned and threw a blue ball of fire at the third warrior who had barely started towards him. The flames engulfed him and he also fell to the ground, with the flames covering his armour inside and out.
Breathing heavily and taking a moment or two’s respite, Kannis considered how strange it was that none of his enemies thus far had uttered a sound when they fell. The burning enemy would have felt excruciating pain as the flames washed over him, yet he died silently.
The two which Kannis had struck were beginning to stir, the respite was over and Kannis ran down the alley to the edge of town in order to escape into the forest. Just as he made to run across the clearing between the town and the trees he stopped. There had been no clearing before. Kannis stared intently at the ground just in front him. It was pitch-black but as his eyes adjusted he saw it, there was no ground, just a gaping chasm which he had no hope of clearing.
Just as he was debating how such a feat was possible the old powerful voice came from behind him again. “Yield”, was all it said.
Kannis turned slowly: “Why will you not show yourself?”
“I am of the night. I have neither fear of nor fondness for the light.”
Kannis was beginning to get a little bit tired of the cryptic answers. Whoever this was he was certainly not affiliated with the Palace of Fenngaard. Corul Geddon was not a person of subtlety; any attack sanctioned by him would have been open, forthright and conducted in a fashion demonstrating his power to all Avalen. It would also not have involved the death of the town’s Arbiter and what Kannis was beginning to assume was most of the townsfolk. Many buildings were now on fire but no screams or sounds of people combating the flames could be heard.
Kannis estimated his time in the inkling could only have been about fifteen minutes. To clear a town the size of Wilderben in such a short period with no sounds of fighting and also taking the time to carve a trench around the place would take not only a high degree of dream-weaving but also thousands of efficient soldiers. Kannis had been involved in conflict fighting both against and alongside combatants from the other four centres of power in Avalen - those being Bloodren, Archaven, Torabane and Mirgarden - never had he come across a foe with archaic sabre cannons and unadorned grey nights.
Gradually, Kannis's eyes started to make out forms in the dark. It seemed as if large numbers of grey knights were converging on his position. In front of them was someone else, something else, something so familiar yet at the same time alien.
Then the lead figure came forward. As he approached Kannis took in more detail: antlers, and eyes of fire, three of them. The recognition hit Kannis hard, he felt like he'd been struck in the chest.
“You”, he whispered. “How are you here? How can this be?” he asked of the being advancing on him.
“I never left, jackal. I walked a quieter road for a time. I have returned.” As the being reached him, Kannis dropped to one knee in a gesture of obeisance. Then he suddenly rolled to the side, sprinted past the antlered form and jumped up onto a nearby roof top which was blazing with fire. Many of the grey knights chased him and hundreds of cannons now fired at him, decimating the already half-burnt town.
He jumped, flipped, rolled and dodged to reach his destination. Kannis ran into the burning Ivy House and back to the inkling. He put in the butterfly key but there was no time to go through the code phrases. He spilled he ink pot as he scrabbled at it with the quill in haste. He started to scratch words on the paper but he only managed two before the Ivy House collapsed on top of him and his world descended into darkness...
*
....Hundreds of leagues to the west Rostrom, the old jackal, sat deep within the walls of the Lair staring at the piece of paper in front of him. Written there were only two words, The Grey, but no more did he hear from Kannis.