Read The Gathandrian Trilogy 03 - The Executioners Cane for Free Online

in Talus’ mind even as he spoke the words aloud. She could see the small group of them standing in the snow outside her home waiting for her permission to enter. Her own mind-net must have served to make her ignorant of their presence, although she could not guess how long they might have been there. Once she let them in – as she must do for the sake of her land and her own peace – then everything would be different and everything would begin.
    “It’s the elders,” Talus whispered. “They’re back.”

Chapter Three: The Mission

    Simon

    Inside, Jemelda’s kitchen was dark and when he entered, Simon had to blink and allow his eyes to adjust before he could see anything. The snow-raven remained in the courtyard and the scribe had had the wit to deposit the mind-cane near the bird. The two of them should be able to look after each other well enough. The cook herself said nothing. She simply bustled about at the work surface near the small window, keeping her back distinctly turned. The scribe could sense the colours pouring from her in short bursts: red, black, deathly white. He had no need to enquire as to what her feelings might be, though they seemed to run far deeper than he had anticipated. But he could not blame her. It was up to Frankel to offer him half a smile and nod, silently, at a small stool to the left of the door.
    Simon took it and sat down.
    He knew it was up to him to say something. He had invaded their home, as such, when they were least expecting it. He couldn’t help it if the fact that Ralph would also be somewhere in the castle, had perhaps been watching him when he approached, was taking away his sense of logic. What little of it he had.
    He coughed. Frankel took a step forward and glanced at his wife. She was kneading bread on the work-counter now, shoulders heaving with the effort, her back still turned. The heady scent of herbs flowed through the air and Simon felt his mouth water. It had been a while since he’d eaten any kind of good Lammas bread. Shaking such pointless memories away, he stood up again. What he had to say was best said standing. He gathered his thoughts together, and tried to stop wondering about Ralph.
    “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice low but loud enough for Jemelda to hear, even above her work. “For all the terrible things I did when I was here, serving Lord Tregannon, and for all the terrible things which happened afterward. Much of it – most of it – has been my fault. You are right in saying I am a murderer and to throw at me all the evil names in the land you can think of. All of them will stick. Many of your people have died because of me, both while I was here and during my journey to Gathandria. While I travelled, I was shown the nature both of what I was and what I might become, for good and for bad. Now the battle against the mind-executioner has been won in the far Gathandrian city and he is dead. He can harm you no more, neither directly, nor by means of myself or … or Lord Tregannon.”
    Jemelda made a sound at this point, something between a gasp and a cry, as if she would say something in response to his words. It was the first time she’d acknowledged his presence since they’d entered the kitchen. Simon was glad, though it was no doubt more than he deserved. He left her time to say anything she might like to, but she did not, although the kneading of the bread became less frenetic. He swallowed and stumbled on.
    “But all that is not enough, is it? The Lammas Lands are so far beaten that the struggle to rebuild them will be a long one. As it is in Gathandria, where the people there face a difficult task, so it is here. I know I have much to ask forgiveness for, much work to do to pay back even a hundredth of the restitution I surely owe you, and in truth what I have done can never be restored. I cannot make the long-dead live again. But nonetheless I have come so you may use me as you wish, Jemelda. You and your people. I swear to you