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Authors: Freya Robertson

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BOOK: Heartwood
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He gasped. He was standing on the edge of a ravine, his feet inches away from the sheer sides of the chasm. One more step and he would have plummeted to his death.

He stumbled back and fell, landing heavily on his backside, and scrabbled backwards even more until he felt the mountain at his back. His breath clouded before him as his chest heaved. The curtain ahead of him closed, hidden in a whirl of white, so suddenly he wondered if he had dreamed it all.

To his right he heard voices and then Mellis and Brevis appeared, turning to shout to the others they had found him.

Mellis dropped to her knees beside him, taking his sword and stuffing his numb hands into the mittens she had brought with her. Ruffling his hair to dislodge the snow that was beginning to settle there, she raised his hood to cover his ears, which were beginning to ache from the cold.

“What happened?” she said, turning to look over her shoulder. “You are right near the edge of the ravine. Was it someone in the snow? Did you see who it was?”

Gavius shook his head, unable to put his emotions into words. How could he tell her what he had seen? Either a reflection of himself, or his twin brother, neither of which made any sense. Either way it had been some sort of vision, which was unnerving in itself, and not something he really wanted to admit to seeing.

But most disturbing of all was that he did not know whether the vision had appeared to stop him plunging into the ravine, or whether it had led him there to do just that.

 

CHAPTER EIGHT

I

Gravis stared at Fortis, who had just declared his wish to split from Beata's party and travel with him to the Henge. He felt shocked at Fortis's disobedience. Following orders was one of the first things they were taught when they came to Heartwood, and it was well known the Exercitus were the most obedient of all the Militis. Fortis had spent many years at Procella's side; she trusted him, and had sent him with Beata because she had thought he would be a great support to her. In spite of Beata's being a Dean, Gravis knew she was not used to commanding others. Procella had expected Fortis to be Beata's right hand, to back her up and follow her to the end.

But now? Gravis frowned, kicked his feet free from the stirrups and swung himself to the ground, intending to intervene. However, even as he did so, however, Fortis said to Beata, “May I speak to you privately?”

Beata looked across at the other knights, then sighed and walked a short distance away, Fortis following. They then engaged in conversation, with Beata gesticulating angrily and Fortis speaking calmly, occasionally dropping his eyes to the floor in a deferential manner. Eventually Beata's shoulders sank. She turned and looked straight at Gravis, then looked away. She nodded to Fortis and spoke in a low voice.

Eventually the two of them rejoined the others. Fortis turned his back on them and began to check his horse's saddle, tightening the stirrups, and left it to Beata to reveal what was occurring.

“Fortis has decided he wishes to join Gravis's Quest,” she said coolly. “He has explained his reasons to me and I have decided to grant his reQuest. I shall be continuing on to Henton, and I hope Caelestis and Peritus will come with me. But if you wish to change your minds, you are welcome to do so.”

Peritus shook his head. “I will stay with you, Beata.”

“And I too,” said Caelestis, finishing her words with a cough.

“Good.” Beata checked her saddle, then came over to the group who were going to be heading for the Henge. “I wish you all the best of luck,” she said, shaking hands and clasping the forearm of each of them. Finally, she stood in front of Gravis, and grasped his arm tightly. “May the Arbor look after you, Gravis, and may your Quest be successful.”

“And yours too,” he said awkwardly. Her eyes were light grey, like an early-morning rainy sky. She looked at him searchingly, a slight frown on her forehead, and he knew she was trying to decipher why he had been so quiet since Hicton. But she said nothing, and eventually just smiled and went over to her horse, mounting it swiftly and finishing with a salute over her heart, showing her oak leaf tattoo.

They all returned the gesture, and then she was gone, heading down the road towards the coast, Peritus and Caelestis following along behind, casting one last look over their shoulder.

Gravis mounted his horse and said curtly, “We had best be on our way. The sooner we can sort out the Henge, the sooner we can return home.” He met Fortis's gaze for a moment, then turned his horse and led the way down the road.

He was not foolish. He sensed Fortis's disagreement with Beata's methods was a ruse, and he was accompanying him not because the warrior did not trust Beata's judgement, but because he felt Gravis needed some extra support. The thought that they did not have faith in him made his cheeks burn, and he turned his face up to the rain to cool his skin.

He glanced briefly over his shoulder, seeing the four Militis who had been allocated to the Quest talking quietly amongst themselves. Fortis hung behind, bringing up the rear, his head bowed and covered by the hood of his cloak. Gravis turned in the saddle again, looking at the rain-soaked Seven Hills before him. He did not know the Militis with him very well and he was sure they were discussing Fortis's decision to change parties. They would be Questioning his ability. As angry as he was, he could not complain, because he had severe doubts himself as to whether he could actually fulfil the Quest.

Something had happened to him at Hicton – and maybe even before that. Gavius had tried to get him talk about it, but he had not been able to, mainly because he was not sure what was wrong. Gavius had tried to help by suggesting Gravis accompany him on his Quest. He had clearly thought Gravis would be lost without him, and that had rankled.

For some reason, even though Gravis knew his twin had always been the leader of the two of them, his brother's assumption that he could not cope on his own had stung. He was a Militis himself, was he not? He had passed the Allectus, done the training, taken his vows, proven himself in battle, albeit a small skirmish just south of the Wall. He had every right to be given this task, to be a leader of a Quest.

And yet… His doubts bubbled inside him. All his old fears, the worries he had pushed to the back of his mind for years, came rising to the surface like fat on a cauldron of boiling stew.

Deep inside, he had always wondered whether the Abbatis at the time of his Allectus had allowed him to stay merely because he wanted Gavius so much. The two of them had been inseparable, clutching hands as they were brought into Heartwood and speaking almost as one; it had been clear how close they were, and how difficult it would have been to separate them. Gavius had shone on the day – been the first to go around the exercise circuit; the only one to complete the complicated wooden puzzle they had all been given; received the highest mark in the written tests about history, mathematics and science. In comparison, Gravis's nerves had let him down, and he had fallen at the hurdles, only half-completed the puzzle, and struggled with all aspects of the tests. He had never understood why he had been taken into Heartwood. As a child, those first few nights after they arrived, he had wondered silently if his acceptance had been just to keep Gavius happy.

Gradually, however, the fears had faded as he had relaxed into daily life at the Castellum and begun to excel at the various tasks they had to learn. But now, with the drizzle soaking him to the skin and his spirits plummeting, his childhood uncertainties haunted him, as if they were spirits of relatives come to watch him as he failed in his Quest.

Fortis had obviously spotted his doubts and must have asked Beata if he should change Quests so he could keep an eye on him. He resented the seasoned warrior for his acute observations, but was also glad of his company. The other Militis were all young: Aranea and Justina both female Laxonians, sturdy and proficient warriors but lacking experience in the field; Parco and Letalis both male Wulfians, picked for their size and aggressive fighting ability, but not the sort of friends he would have chosen for confidantes. He hoped Fortis would be a good guide if he fell at the last hurdle.

It was a long and tedious journey that day, and he barely talked to the others, too wrapped up in his own thoughts to converse. They stopped that night at a village halfway to Realberg, enjoying the luxury of a real bed in an inn after their previous night spent on the road, and after a hot bath and a decent meal they turned in for the night, everyone falling into a sound sleep.

Everyone, that is, except Gravis. He was tired, and his body felt heavy with weariness, but he could not get to sleep. He lay there for a long while, listening to his compatriots' steady breathing, and then eventually got up and made his way downstairs, through the darkened inn, and outside into the cool night air.

It was still raining, but very lightly, more like a low mist than rain, and for once it refreshed him rather than bothered him. The clouds had in fact parted to reveal the Light Moon in its first quarter, casting its pink glow over the countryside, though the smaller Dark Moon was hidden behind the clouds. The village was sleeping, the cottages darkened and quiet. Behind him one of the horses whinnied in the stables. Somewhere in the distance, a dog barked.

Gravis had never felt so alone. He shivered, wishing he had brought his travelling cloak with him, but he was only wearing a light tunic and breeches, not even his mail. He felt strangely light without it after wearing it continually for several days now. He walked down the lane, not knowing where he was heading, but feeling the need to get away. It seemed like an eternity since he had left Heartwood, even though it had only been seven days. He remembered his time spent in the Exercitus, and how he and Gavius had comforted each other with tales from their childhood at the Castellum, and stories about Militis both past and present.

He thought about Gavius now, and wondered where his brother was. Somewhere in the Knife's Edge, he guessed, trying to get some sleep in the midst of the cold. Did Gavius miss him? Or was he relieved to be free of the dog-like hanger-on who was continually at his side?

Gravis's feet had led him onto a bridge that crossed a pond. The circle of water looked dull in the watery moonlight, like a beaten but unpolished sheet of steel. He leaned on the bridge, looking down at the water, remembering the way the channel had erupted in the Curia, and how the Darkwater Lords had formed from the liquid into solid warriors. Any form of water left him uneasy now, and he eyed the pond with a frown, uncertain what was making him feel apprehensive.

And then suddenly he realised what it was. The reflection of the Light Moon lay on the surface of the pond like a dead fish, a sliver of pink silver against the grey flatness. This in itself was not disturbing.

It was the fact that he could not see his own reflection that made him catch his breath.

Gravis blinked and looked up. A cloud covered the Moon, and he was cast suddenly into darkness. He gripped hold of the wooden handrail, wishing he had been sensible enough to bring a lantern, but even as his knuckles whitened and his heart rate increased, the cloud passed and the Moon appeared again, and he looked down and there was his reflection, anxious and white, but as real as the wooden bridge on which he leaned.

He breathed deeply, calming his racing heart. He had been mistaken the first time – of course his reflection had been there; how could it have not? It had been a trick of the light, an illusion, like the time one of the Deans at Heartwood had done magic for him and Gavius, making a coin mysteriously appear and disappear beneath a square of cloth.

And yet… Gravis shivered. Deep inside, he knew he was not mistaken, just as he had known as a boy the coin had not really vanished into thin air. For some reason, he had not cast a reflection.

What did that mean for him? And what did that mean for the Quest?

 

II

Beata pulled the hood of her cloak down over her face to hide her tears. Her stomach felt knotted like a skein of tangled wool.

As Dean, part of her role was to act as mediator and intercede if there were problems between people. However, she was unused to direct confrontation, and her disagreement with Fortis had unsettled her greatly. His direct criticism of her as leader had knocked her confidence and upset her. When he took her to one side she had assumed he was going to continue his diatribe towards her, and had steeled herself for an argument, only to find him apologising and telling her his rebellion was a ploy. He had explained he thought Gravis was going to have trouble with his Quest and wanted to help him.

Beata had got very angry at this and told him he had undermined her authority with the others, but he had been defensive and said he was only doing what he thought was best, which was what Procella had told him to do. Beata told him this was not what Procella had had in mind, and had promised him she would take it up with the Dux when they got back to Heartwood, but he had been unrepentant, saying any other way of changing groups would have seemed like a lack of confidence in Gravis's ability, which would only make the matter worse.

“And what of my confidence?” she had asked him miserably. He had appeared astonished at that comment, and said he thought her confidence was high, and he had complete faith she would fulfil her Quest. Beata had sighed at that point. It seemed pointless to her to force him to stay; it would only lead to further resentment and bad feeling between the two of them. And besides, if he was right and Gravis would need help in activating the Node, it was better Fortis went with him.

Still, she now felt concern for her own party that they were down to three, and she was also disappointed in herself, for she set very high personal goals, and so far on the journey she had failed to meet all of them. There was no way realistically she could have avoided the problems that had beset them, but as Quest Leader she was responsible for the others, and she had not done a good job so far.

BOOK: Heartwood
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