Promises
are washed away like dirt from hands in the face of coming war
[][][][]
All that could be done had been done and now all they could do was sit and
wait. News came from the continent in erratic and contradictory form, which
made for very unsettling living. There were some who stood true, some who said
they were going to stand true and didn’t and there were some who openly ran.
Houses became deserted, the crowds thinned and the roads and ports were busy
with fleeing families.
One recent event had been more disturbing than ever for Yulla was the public
execution of the spy Roberto Macia. He Had died by a single sword stroke to the
back of his neck which was over in a split second, but the build-up had been a
horrible, gut wrenching torment for her as it advertised the entertainment of
someone's death. The central square had been packed and anyone not attending
could be considered to be not a supporter and possibly a spy themselves. 'All
Spies Must Die' Alfos had said before he nodded to the executioner and the
black masked man did his work. He had been questioned before his death, but it
was obvious why he was there, there was nothing much more to find out. He was
questioned, not tortured for information, but Roberto said little more than they
already knew. They hadn’t told him the bird had escaped, he died not knowing
that.
The reports from abroad were confusing up until a certain time and that time
was four weeks before the invasion. At that time the army of Italia had
disbanded from Lyon and a large part of it was heading north and west. Soon
Briton would be under siege. There was no news from Bezon either, no reports of
a ship having sailed to Rome, no tales of a hull full of gold. Something like
that would have got back, everyone could only assume the worst.
People saw the coming invasion as the end and tried to make peace with
themselves. They took stock of what they had and re-evaluated it in a different
way. Things once valuable were now obsolete and vehicles and a safe passage now
had a high value, but were largely unobtainable. Yulla was going nowhere until
told otherwise by her father and so made use of her time by trying to get the
truth, if not a prediction from Wiznia.
[][][][]
"Can you see?"
“See? Yes I can see,"
"Can you see if others are with us?"
"Aaah,
yes. I can often tell who has passed to the other side," Wiznia said.
"Is it bad news?" Yulla said. Wiznia looked at the girl, looked into
her eyes and could see she was mourning the loss of someone, a lover
maybe.
“Who do you speak of?" he said. She was silent and looked down, her face
red, then managed to look up, her lips uncertainly going to speak. He smiled at
her softly trying to diminish his harsh looks. That was difficult with war
paint on his face, large white feathers in his hair and a necklace made of
animal jaw bones. He gestured her on, rotating his hand slowly.
"Bezon," she said in a whisper.
“Aahh," he said looking straight at her. "I am sorry,"
"Are you sure."
"Of course I am sure," he shouted indignantly. "I have known for
some time and consulted Duerra on it. I have seen that man’s fate..." his
voice trailed off, losing its volume as he saw in defiance that she held up the
dusty blue amulet that was around her neck.
“You see I look at this and it still shines. It is not dull and lifeless,"
Yulla said looking down at the large stone.
"A mere reflection I expect," he said. She gave him a look of
disagreement and disappointment. "It’s only a jewel,"
“But I thought you believed in such things," she said. Boudica who was sat
behind her giggled.
“I do of course, but..”
‘Not dull and lifeless like it was before. There’s a glint in it, a glint of
light like a captured soul. I know he’s still alive,’
‘It’s only a stone, it holds no magical powers. All precious stones and jewels
shine and reflect the light,’
‘I know, but this one didn’t shine before, it was only when I gave him the
sister stone,’
‘Can I see it please?’ He said holding out his hand. She took it off from
around her neck and gave it to him. He examined it closely with thick glasses
that amplified the light, they made his eyes look large. He looked at every
corner of it, every fraction and angle of reflection. He took it outside for a
while and held it up to the sun, letting the light pour through it, making
different shades and bright colours. Then he brought it inside and looked at it
by the fire, turning it an orangey-red. The fire heated it making it warm to
the touch, but nothing extra came from within. Finally he took it to a dark
place where there was no sound or light. There was no smell, just clean fresh
air. In this quiet corner he looked into the stone to see what was there. He
let his eyes adjust and time pass, but all he saw was darkness and the
beginnings of the vague shape of the room. Very faintly he heard Yulla and
Boudicca talking, the clucking of chickens outside and the wind in the roof.
Now light previously unseen seeped in. It seemed into the darkness like water
into a leaky hull. As it did there was the faintest flash of blue in the heart
of the stone. It seemed that the stone was ultra reflective. He cupped it in
his hands and looked through a hole in them; there was the faintest of
glimmers.
‘Damn,’ he said aloud breaking the silence. He could not be proved wrong. He
came back to them and their eyes were waiting. ‘I see nothing in it, but I will
give you a reading of the stones,’
‘Thank you Wiznia, that is what I came for,’ Yulla said. She smiled broadly and
it radiated her beauty.
In the dark of the hovel house that was of stone surround with animal hides for
a roof and upper walls Wiznia placed his stones on the table. He doused the
fire light with water and shut the bear skin door so it was all but dark. And
in the dark their eyes grew to adjust. The dry skulls of antlered creatures
loomed out of the gloom, eyelessly looking on and the oval shields of the ‘old
men’ made dull shades of brown and grey, their white chevron markings catching
the minimal light.
‘There are no snakes in Hibernian,’ Wiznia said, he dropped his head and went
into quiet prayer.
‘I
know,’ Yulla said. She smiled, her eyes wide and sparkling.
‘Give me your hands my child,’ Yulla did and looked at Boudicca raising her
eyebrows. ‘Leave them on the table face up so I can see your palms,’ she did
and watched him as he placed the stones on the animal skin table. The table was
in fact a large Tom Tom drum. He placed the amulet on the table too and as was
its character it remained bright, reflecting what light there was. ‘I must have
complete silence if the gods are to come close,’ he said admonishingly. He
looked up through the smoke hole at the small wisps and plumes that mixed in
with the blue.’ The skies are clear, the signs are good,’ both women looked up
at what he was looking at and then returned their gaze to the table. As they
did Wiznia got up and put on his black cape, it was made of fine cloth, smooth
and unusual and edged with gold diamonds from its high collar to its hem. He
then put on a large headpiece made of bones and black painted wood. It too was
edged with gold diamonds. The costume made him look even bigger and grander
than before as would make his words irrefutable.
‘Are you ready?’
‘Yes,’ Yulla said.
‘Very well. Who comes before the presence of the gods?’
‘Yulla,’
‘Yulla who? Do you have any other names?’
‘No. My father’s name is Richard,’
‘Yulla of Richard, Yulla Richards what is your question?’
‘I need to know if Bezon is alive,’ she said her voice serious and measured.
Wiznia waited, deep in thought.
‘The sea is full of serpents,’ Wiznia said and then went into a quiet
prayer.
‘Yes,’ she said, not understanding the out of context remark. Wiznia threw the
three stones on the table between them. They rolled making the drum boom. The
stones had flat sides, shaped roughly into cubes. Some sides had symbols and
some sides were blank. As the stones rolled to a stop, two had symbols face up
and one was blank. Wiznia smiled and nodded.
‘As I thought,’ he said. He looked down, he was solemn, he looked at Yulla with
the gravest of expressions. ‘Bezon is dead,’ Yulla began to cry and snatched up
the amulet, putting around her neck.
‘It can’t be, I know he lives, I can sense it, he’s alive,’
‘You refute the words of the gods?’
‘No,’
‘Then take their word and accept it,’
‘I…I,’ she said, holding her head down crying.
‘There’s something else. Your friend. I don’t know your name. You will come to
the fore. The gods have recognised you, you were mentioned,’
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