Carack

Carack Ch6 p1

They crossed the lush valley floor at a trot, scattering deer that had been comfortably grazing and raising complaining pheasants up into the air. They rode under the front of the base of the white cliff on which the castle sat and Gerent gazed up in awe at the towering edifice above him. From the tops of the walls fluttered many multi coloured banners. Some looked as though they were shredded away with long playing in the wind and some were new and snapped in the breeze. Meendhu picked up speed as he took to a dirt track that wound up the hill around the castle to the rear. There was a large entrance gate with huge double doors that stood open. Meendhu lumbered through the entrance and as Gerent followed he could see Meendhu on his hind legs, with his paws wrapped around a figure wearing a silver grey, floor length tunic. The figure was hugging the bear back whilst being twirled around in a dusty circle. Eventually Meendhu stopped and put the man down. Gerent, sat waiting on the pony, saw the man pat the bear on the arm and bring his attention to Gerent. The pair walked over to him. He was a young man of about twenty, with black hair and eyes the colour of a russet apple with ruddy of cheeks. He had a firm but kind looking face. The two came up to the stirrups of the pony and Meendhu helped Gerent down.

‘Sancret this is Gerent and Gerent this is Sancret,’ said Meendhu, with pride in his voice.

‘What did you call him?’ asked the young man looking at Meendhu in surprise. The bear chuckled, his body quaking with suppressed laughter.

‘Thought that would surprise ya,’ he laughed. ‘Couldn’t get that from looking in no well could ya? Ya see this ain’t Hugh, its Gerent, Hugh’s twin brother.’

Sancret began to smile.

‘Tell me it’s true,’ he said grabbing Gerent by the hand and Gerent nodded.

‘Welcome, welcome,’ Sancret shouted with laughter in his voice. ‘As Hugh you would have been welcome, as Gerent you are doubly so.’ He grew serious. ‘I am assuming Madron does not know of this?’ Meendhu and Gerent both shook their heads.

‘He hasn’t a clue. It was N’zim who told me and he had advised Gerent not to tell anyone else and the lad has not. Only we know his true name,’ Meendhu said.

‘Not even N’zar?’

‘No one,’ said Gerent.

‘Come in, come in, where are my manners?’ Sancret started to lead Gerent by the arm toward a doorway in the grey stonewalls around the paved courtyard.

‘Pony Grao,’ Sancret said to Gerent’s mount as they left, ‘get thee to a stable, the brownie will tend thee, many thanks for your help in bringing our friend here.’ The grey pony neighed in response and trotted off toward an archway set in one corner.

The big hall they entered had a couple of dark oak settles near a vast empty fireplace. The walls and high vaulted ceiling were of bare stone. Their footsteps echoed on the large flags as Sancret took them up stairs to a first floor room. In comparison with Netherzoyland it was desolate of furnishings, but it was warm with feeling. Gerent felt very comfortable. There was a table, big enough to accommodate the eight wooden ladder back chairs with their worn tapestry seats that clustered around it, and a couple of settles, with worn cushions scattered on them that were drawn near the fire. Tall diamond paned windows allowed in a great deal of light but which were so high up the wall that it was there was only sky to be seen through them. The windows were framed with dusty faded red velvet curtains and around the walls hung several decorated shields. The table had a tray with a decanter and glasses on it. Sancret, allowing Gerent to stare around him, went and poured some of the grey liquid from the decanter into three glasses. Meendhu took one in a huge paw and sat on the worn rug in front of the fireplace. Sancret held a glass out for Gerent.

‘Come sit, try my ginger beer, let me know what you think, it’s something I miss from your world.’ Gerent nearly dropped the glass:

‘You’ve been to my world?’ he asked amazed.

‘Born there,’ replied Sancret. ‘But that was a long time ago and a long story. How’s the ginger beer?’ Gerent sipped.

‘It’s the best tasting Ginger beer I’ve ever had,’ he said with truthfulness, though he longed to ask how Sancret had come inot this world and if he could help him get home.

‘Now, come old friend, tell me of your time in Netherzoyland. Tell me what has happened, for though I have looked at you a great deal while you have been away I do not know all that you know,’ said Sancret to Meendhu. Then the three of them sat together and Gerent heard what Meendhu had to tell his friend.

‘Well I stayed in the woods along the ridge of the hill from Netherzoyland for about two and a half months prior to your arrival, Gerent. Scant food there was there and all. Anyway I kept watch and listen as much as I could to find out what was going on in Sumerdor region. Like we said I wanted to find out what had really happened to N’zim. I could see Madron’s influencing charm spreading thrugh the locals. Its growing stronger the more Madron uses it. Anyway I did discover that N’zim had been accused of being a traitor just after he had questioned the disappearance of some members of the town council. Some sort of evidence of a plot against Madron was found. Well I say found, trumped up more like. Some woman reported that N’zim had told her details of his plans to overthrow Madron and then the High King. So Madron had sent N’zim to the Northern Evells. He told him it would just be while the matter was investigated. Yes right, ‘cause Madron sent someone right after N’Zim to kill him. ‘Course it didn’t cause much of a stir, no body was found and no one knew N’zim. But I found out the ditch they shoved him in and I got word to N’zim’s mother. So in secret she and others of the family had taken the body and buried it. I tried to contact N’zar, but no luck. I just couldn’t get close to the Captain of the guard and anyway I think he’s part fallen under the power of the Influence charm. But he was trying to clear his brother’s name with Madron.

I watched to see if Hugh, or rather you Gerent, would arrive on St Agnes Eve. I followed you and that idiot servant Wampa but I lost your trail in the pouring rain. I thought you had drowed in the river. I was relieved to hear you had reached the castle.