The Oracle Read online

  Rian must have had a similar thought, and looked up to Angrud. “Soldier Angrud, I hardly think you have anything to add to this council. I would hate to delay you in today’s duties, you may return to them. Now.”

  It was Jemma’s turn to smile, as Angrud looked a little hurt. But the soldier bowed his head to his superiors, and quickly made himself scarce.

  “Miss Jemma?” A male voice brought her attention back to the questions.

  What could she say, but the truth? “Honestly, Gran told me. She had received a letter from a Danu, saying that it was time for Lady Samantha to return. She charged me to deliver the message.”

  The council looked unimpressed with what she had to say. Obviously Gran and Danu had no bearing amongst these Gardyn. Only Rian looked thoughtful.

  “Danu... the same Danu that helped Lady Samantha last year?” Rian asked. “She disappeared for over a week, and when she returned she spoke of visions and of another world that would offer us refuge...”

  Jemma stood silently, feeling more than a little useless; all she had seen was a name on a letter.

  “Do you have any proof to confirm your story?” One of the men asked.

  Jemma scrambled for some sort of answer. Proof? If she said that she was from another world, they might accuse her of madness. All she could do to prove that was ramble on about things they didn’t know, of cars and planes... and likely to be considered fanciful and mad. She pulled at her collar nervously, and paused as she felt the chain against her fingertips.

  “Gran gave me this.” She said, pulling the necklace out of her blouse, so that the jewel sparkled in the bright morning sun. “She said that it was an inta... initiatus crystal.”

  “Let me see that.”

  A low voice made Jemma jump. She span round to see a tall cloaked figure, dark and imposing; his face hidden by the shadow of his hood, only for a further mask over his nose and mouth. His approach had been so silent, that none had noticed his presence until now.

  “Oh, so now the great cloaked ally has arrived.” Rian remarked, looking disapprovingly up at the man. “It seems too much of a coincidence that you should appear so soon after this girl.”

  The man ignored him, and held his hand out to Jemma.

  Jemma took off the necklace and handed it to the newcomer. As soon as she passed it over, she felt anxious to have it back. She had sworn not to remove it, and she felt vulnerable without it.

  The stranger lifted it to his eye-level. “She speaks the truth.” The man announced, handing the necklace back.

  Jemma accepted it, her fingers brushing the coarse skin of his hands, and she looked up. The stranger had his oversized hood and a dark cloth concealing most of his face, but his intense green eyes could be seen, rimmed with traces of age and worry.

  Jemma stared into those eyes and felt a familiar, weightless sensation. She felt torn between two realities, in one she saw the aged eyes suspended in time, in another she saw the same eyes belonging to a lad, no older than herself.

  Jemma went through the motions of another person, whose sight she had borrowed. As she watched the lad she felt a mixture of anger, pride and love wash over her. They both stood outside a grand house, the boy holding his horse, packs already positioned behind the saddle.

  “Orion, don’t be so damned foolhardy.” Jemma spoke with a man’s voice. “Accept who you are. You have responsibilities to your station, why throw that all away?”

  The lad smiled and grabbed her hand, forcibly shaking it. Jemma snatched her hand back and folded her arms, furious that he was being so damn stubborn.

  “Sorry father,” the lad replied, “but I don’t want to live on the family name. If I’m going to be somebody, it’ll be because I deserve it.”

  The lad turned and led his horse into the open to mount, swinging easily into the saddle.

  “Goodbye father. Minaeri’s blessings.” He called from the saddle, then picked up a trot.

  “Orion! Get back here!”

  “Orion! Get back here!” The faint words died from Jemma’s parched mouth.

  She lay on the ground. Siarla had been called for when Jemma collapsed, and now cradled her while she stirred and muttered words that all the council members strained to hear.

  Jemma started to wake and Siarla held her steady, soothing her as the girl’s pale blue eyes rolled wildly.

  “Where am I? Where’s Orion?” Jemma cried hoarsely, finding it difficult to let go of her vision.

  “Hush, you’re with us again, Siarla’s here.” Siarla Marsh said softly, as she did with her own children when they were plagued with nightmares after the Riots. She felt the girl relax in her arms.

  Jemma sighed and forced herself to sit up, feeling a headache threatening. She glanced around, noticing that the council were staring at her with worry and curiosity.

  “I’m sorry.” She mumbled.

  “Don’t be sorry,” Rian said softly, kneeling down beside her. “Does this happen often?”

  Jemma thought for a moment, “It’s only happened since I came here. Twice. The first time I saw the destruction of Treefort. The second, just now, I saw that man’s past.” Jemma spoke quietly, afraid of being declared mad, but desperate to finally tell of these visions.

  “Why didn’t you tell anyone?” Rian asked, then stopped her, “Never mind, just describe these visions fully.”

  Jemma started hesitantly at first, but grew stronger. No one interrupted her and after she finished, everyone remained silent.

  Captain Rian stood up suddenly, an air of authority about him. “Rinar, I want fifteen of your fastest riders, we’re going to the Temple of Gates.”

  “So… you would go on a wild goose chase because some girl with strange dreams says Lady Samantha will return?” One of the other council members asked, incredulous.

  “Stranger things have happened, these past few years.” Rian stated. “And as for Orion, it is about time you told us who you really are.”

  Rian turned to face the cloaked man, to find that he had disappeared.

  “I didn’t mean for Siabhor to scare your family earlier.” Jemma said apologetically, as she walked with Siarla back to the Marsh tent.

  “It’s ok, Jemma.” Siarla replied, without looking at her. “I’m sorry that you thought I blamed you. You clearly didn’t know who Siabhor was when you requested to speak to him. If you don’t mind me saying, you don’t seem to know much about anything.”

  Jemma sighed, the older woman’s comment had no malice behind it, she was simply stating her observations. Clearly Siarla was much sharper than Jemma had originally thought, with her gentle warmth and motherliness.

  “I’m... not from Enchena.” Jemma replied quietly, watching Siarla closely for her reaction.

  Siarla merely nodded, “That would explain it. Why are you here?”

  “I was sent to pass on a message. Now that’s done...” Jemma shrugged, “I don’t know, I guess I should find a way home.”

  “Are you sure that’s all you’ve come for? It’s a rather meagre role to set an oracle.”

  “Yes, I’m sur- a what?”

  “An oracle. I’m guessing that’s the correct term, forgive me if it’s wrong, it’s been so long since we last had one.” Siarla answered.

  “Why would you call me an oracle?” Jemma asked, her pulse starting to race.

  “Because of your visions; because you came to foretell the return of our heroes.” Siarla replied. “Do they have a different name for it where you come from?”

  “It’s not...” Jemma stopped in her tracks. She’d never had a vision in her old life, she’d had vivid dreams, but none of them had come true. It had all been a bit of nonsense, to joke with her mum and friends what her imagination had come up with. It was a little crazy, but nothing out of the ordinary, lots of people had strange dreams. But then, Gran had mentioned them... and Minaeri had haunted her sleep for months...

  Siarla turned when she noticed that Jemma was no longer walking beside her. Sh
e saw the girl, lost in her thoughts, a pained expression on her face, and realised the truth...

  “Oh, Jemma, this is all new for you, isn’t it?”

  A shiver ran up Jemma’s spine, and she gave a hurried nod.

  Siarla came and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “Come on, let’s get back to the tent, and I’ll see about making you some tea.”

  Jemma felt a wave of gratitude towards Siarla, along with the pain of missing her own mother’s warm hugs and hot drinks whenever she was sad.

  Back inside the cool tent, Jemma sat on her bed, hugging her knees, tucking them up to her chin.

  “Siarla... would you...? Can you tell me about the Gardyn? About Enchena?” Jemma asked. “I’m tired of not knowing.”

  Siarla set some tea to brew on some burning coals outside, then came to sit beside Jemma.

  “That’s a lot to tell, Jemma. I’m not sure where to begin... Well, I suppose it all starts with the first King of Enchena, Ragoul. He was a strong king, who created invincible armies that demanded respect. He was a tyrant though, and he would have sold his soul to have more power. You see, Ragoul was not only murderously ambitious, he also had the power to create floods and drought; to bring fallen soldiers back to life, so he could never be defeated. It is also said that he created the mallus to scare the people of Enchena into submission.” Siarla paused, checking that Jemma understood all that she had said. “As the needs of the common people were being ignored, many opposed Ragoul being king, but if anyone made their views heard, or caused suspicion of treason, whether it was true or not, they were killed. He also relentlessly hunted down and killed any person accused of magic, paranoid that they would prove a threat to him.

  “This disregard for his subjects drove the rebels into hiding, and they formed the Gardyn, to protect the oppressed.

  “Over a thousand years have passed since the days of Ragoul, and the Gardyn work tirelessly against his descendants, who inherited his powers and his evil. They infiltrate the courts and councils, to help reduce the monarchy’s damage. There have been small attacks to stop slaughters and work to bring the towns and villages some sense of freedom. When I was a girl, I remember there were times when the families of my village would wilt from hunger and submission to the King’s demands; only for a wagon of food and crops to come from an anonymous donation. It was just enough to keep our bodies going; and you can’t imagine the hope it instilled in many a soul.

  “The Gardyn have always been a thorn in the crown’s side, an irritant that could never be eradicated. But the Gardyn were never strong enough to make war and overthrow the king; that was until Lady Samantha came. She lit a fire in our hearts, a hope that was too powerful to ignore. Minaeri sent her into our lives, riding astride a silver unicorn, to free us all. Lady Samantha united the unicorns and the mallus as our allies; and her own powers make King Hrafn as mortal and vulnerable as any man.”

  Jemma sat silently, taking in all that Siarla shared. Surely she wouldn’t play a significant part in such an immense story. “So where is Lady Samantha now?” Jemma eventually asked.

  “She opened a gate to another world and took as many as she could through to freedom. That was almost a year ago. The Gardyn are always looking for signs that she will return and lead us to victory.” Siarla answered. “Now, if you don’t have any more questions, I have to collect Betony and Kiya.”

  Seven

  Jemma was on top of the hill, a gentle breeze murmuring over long grasses. In front of her, crumbling stonework showed the remains of a once-great temple. Jemma stepped into it, unafraid. She looked up to the clear blue sky, the temple roof having fallen long ago.

  In the derelict building, walls had gaping holes, and tiled floors had been reclaimed by wild grass. In fact, there were only two objects that had withstood the test of time: two life-sized statues of kings or great warriors. Jemma stared at their stone faces, perfectly wrought. From this angle, the sun formed a halo behind the figure on the right, and behind the left figure was the faint glow of an early-risen full moon.

  The statues were designed so the figures held out their swords to form an arch to walk underneath.

  Jemma waited. Beneath the extended swords, the air thickened and shone. The ground began to rumble and the remaining stone walls crumbled, yet Jemma waited fearlessly.

  Finally the moment came, surprising even Jemma, who thought she only waited for Lady Samantha’s return. Colour and softness washed over the two statues, sending life into the stone, and two living men stepped down from their...

  “Jemma, how are you feeling?”

  Jemma groaned slightly as the voice woke her. “Damn, twice in one day,” she muttered to herself. She squinted against the sun, attempting to see who was silhouetted against the entrance of the tent.

  Saxton looked down at the strange girl, “I’ve just finished duty and thought I’d ask. It seems that you’ve had quite a day.”

  “Well, it’s not over yet.” Jemma replied, almost bitterly. “I need to talk to Captain Rian; there’s something I need to warn him about.”

  “It will have to wait until he gets back, he’s gone to the Temple of Gates.”

  “Already?” Jemma exclaimed, jumping to her feet. “Can we catch up?”

  Saxton frowned, looking questioningly at the girl, “what is so urgent that it cannot wait?”

  “I think I just had... a, um...” Jemma broke off, she’d had a dream, nothing more, nothing that would make a sensible grown man race after Rian.

  “A vision? Siarla told me you were a fledgling oracle.” Saxton sighed and looked away, calculating the distance. “We’re about an hour behind them already, and they will be riding hard and fast; but if it’s important, we can try. You, ah, can ride?”

  “What, a horse?” Apart from pony rides at the beach and at fairs when she was younger, Jemma had only sat on a horse once. “I know how to hang on,” she replied unconvincingly.

  “That will have to do, come on.”

  Saxton led over to the horse paddock that Jemma had seen earlier. A small figure ducked out of view, scared to be seen out of bounds by his father, but Saxton was too quick.

  “Russit! Get over here.” Saxton demanded.

  The boy slinked out, ready to be scolded.

  “Get a horse tacked for Jemma.” Saxton ordered. “I need to find Angrud.”

  Saxton was right about Rian and his troop riding as fast as possible. They had not stopped travelling until it was too dark to see, and their horses were exhausted.

  Angrud had come along with them; Saxton argued that they might need his expertise, and that Rian would put him in the stocks if he found out that Saxton had tried to make the journey with their new oracle alone.

  Jemma felt some discomfort that she was now a person that required protection. She didn’t know how she felt about it, to be honest. There was a vague pleasure at realising that she was needed; which was countered by the fact that they only wanted her because of her weird dreams. Dreams that she could not control.

  Angrud’s company made travelling awkward, but at least on horseback it was easier to cling onto the saddle and just ignore him. It was only when they stopped to camp for the night that they all had to sit around and play nice.

  Angrud took the first watch, and Saxton lay down, his snores soon reverberating across their campsite. Jemma was exhausted, but her limbs were hurting so much, she couldn’t get comfortable on the hard ground.

  Angrud snorted with derision as she turned again.

  “What?” Jemma snapped.

  “You can’t ride for sh-”

  “So? Normal people don’t ride horses back home. We have cars, and trains, and even stinking buses. There are cushioned seats, and you can sit reading while someone else drives you where you need to go.” Jemma whined. “And now I’m sore, bruised, and I stink of horses. I don’t need your snotty comments.”

  Angrud smiled darkly, “Fine, you’re giving it everything you got. Seems like a lot of effort, chasing
Rian after meeting him twice. I can’t blame you, there’s a lot of women that wish they could do the same, but don’t have the gumption to presume they are important enough.”

  Jemma twisted in her bedroll, to look up at him, “Seriously, you did not just say that? This is about returning heroes, and the bigger picture. It has nothing to do with Captain Rian.”

  Angrud chuckled, “Oh, I know, but it’s funny how much of a fool you act around him. I have to entertain myself somehow.”

  “So you’ve never done anything embarrassing, of course.” Jemma spat.

  “I’m not weak enough, I’d never make a fool of myself over a girl.” Angrud replied knowingly.

  “No, you’re such an arrogant git, I bet only a good mirror would get you excited.” Jemma snapped, then rolled over, blocking his further comments.

  It took another whole day of hard riding for the temple to come into view. Saxton had given rough directions, to head north; but as they went on, Jemma realised that she already knew the land and where to go. The grassy hills were so familiar, she soon kicked her horse on, taking the lead.

  Even nightfall didn’t stop them, trusting their horses to find a safe path, while their eyes were locked on a small fire on top of the highest hill.

  “Who’s there?” One man cried out, jumping up from the ground as the trio got close enough to be heard, yet unseen on this dark night.

  All the men were on their feet immediately, ready to fight.

  Jemma and her two companions rode into the circle of firelight.

  “Saxton Marsh? What are you doing here?”

  Rian came running out of the temple ruins, to see what the disturbance was, he hesitated as he saw the newcomers. “Miss Jemma, what is going on? Marsh; Iveston? You do not have permission to leave Treefort.”

  “Captain Rian, sir.” Saxton dismounted his horse and saluted, “Jemma had another vision pertaining to this mission. We thought it best to come.”

  There was a pause as Jemma was helped down from her horse; she staggered slightly as her numb legs hit the ground painfully. She leant against the horse that had carried her so far and tried to meet the Captain’s gaze, aware that Angrud would be judging her, as she did so.