Read The Gathandrian Trilogy 02 - Hallsfoots Battle for Free Online Page A

interesting things.”
    “The old legends,” Johan whispered, a frown creasing his forehead for a moment. “You have them? Which ones? What do they say?”
    “All the stories that the elders talked about,” Annyeke replied, “and some they didn’t. Mostly— and it’s hidden throughout the writings, so you have to read carefully—there’s an overarching legend about a ‘Lost One’ who has been missing for many year-cycles. So many that nobody can remember his name. Though why the elders assumed that it’s a man is a mystery to me—it may just as well be a woman. There’s no reason why not. Ancient Gathandrian doesn’t specify gender. Anyway, this Lost One returns one day to our city, when it is most in need of him. He fights for us and our world is safe. Not only us but all the worlds around us, too, which are our responsibility. All the tears and pain and crying will be gone, and instead we will have peace and joy and plenty of love. That, at least, is what the texts tell me.”
    By the time she’d finished, she was whispering. Neither of her companions said anything to fill the void. It was as if the truth of the words she’d spoken had filled the room and created its own brief world, or as if none dared speak at all.
    The air rolled in stillness. This was broken a moment later by the door being shoved open and a small boy rushing into the relative warmth of the cooking area. Talus.
    “ Johan ,” he panted, eyes shining and hair sticking up from his head like the plumage of young park-crows. “Johan, you’re here .”
    Johan took a step away from Annyeke’s young charge, arms stiff and eyes wide, as if faced with a wood-leopard on the hunt.
    At the same time, the mind-cane leapt from its position of rest in the corner, the wild humming louder than she’d ever heard it before, and hurtled across the space between them towards Talus. She could sense a surge of frustration, despair even, pouring from it, but didn’t know why.
    “ No.”
    The shout was hers, but it was Simon who got there first.

    Simon
    Without thinking, the scribe launched himself toward the mind-cane as it spun towards the boy. He could feel the waves of a strange anger born of fear sweeping over him from its silver carving, but he had no concept of any danger to himself. His thoughts were full of the memory of Carthen.
    He hit the cane away from Talus with his fingers. At once, heat seared up his arm and he tumbled to the floor with a cry. The pain arced between skin and mind, mind and skin, a circle of agony. At the edge of his vision he could see Annyeke lurching towards him, obviously trying to help in some way. Behind her, Johan grabbed Talus and pushed him out of danger.
    The mind-cane jittered on the stone slabs, moving once more towards the boy. The humming had vanished, but the impression of threat had not. More than that, he could sense a strange purpose emanating from the cane, but what it was eluded him.
    “ Simon.”
    The scribe blinked. The voice was not audible but in his head only. It was Johan. Despite everything that had happened and the situation they now found themselves in, he couldn’t help but smile. Over the last two day-cycles, he’d missed the Gathandrian’s thought-voice.
    “ Yes?” he replied, in mind only.
    “ Pick the cane up.”
    “ What?”
    “ Pick it up,” Johan said directly to his mind again. “Now. Please?”
    The cane’s humming began again. Sending a variety of thoughts towards Johan, none of which could be spoken with the child present, Simon skidded along the floor in obedience. His eyes were fixed on the length of vibrating ebony and silver. His heart was beating fast and his skin felt cold, a relief after the heat of pain a moment ago.
    Once between the cane and his companions, he slowly, so slowly, stretched out his hand. The mind- cane’s trembling became more violent and the feeling of thwarted anger more powerful, but the noise it was making lessened. He thanked all the