Please see the first chapter to see a poem and a link to the first picture.

To see the second picture go to wwwDOTpellinormadpeepsDOTmyfreeforumDOTorg/sutra6437.php6437

TWO

Wishing, dreaming,

Feeling the stars,

Wondering how peace

Can ever be.

-

Lonely, crying,

Alone without peace,

But striving, trying,

To bring it to thee.

-

Loveless, dying,

But trying still,

Because it can only ever be

Like this, like this.

-

Determined, smiling,

I may die, but this,

For all I know,

And love, and love.

Galen of Pellinor

CHAPTER TWO

When Cadvan awoke again, he was slung over the saddle of a horse, held there by tough leather straps. He still had his pack. He raised his head as much as he could and saw Maerad on the horse in front, held there in a similar way, her pack still on her back too. She was already conscious. Cadvan felt giddy and slow, and his head ached. He lowered it again, thinking hard. What had happened? Why had Maerad not been able to use her Elidhu powers? He could hardly argue that the situation was not extreme enough. And how had Enkir known about the door? Then he realised; that dream Maerad had had, all that time ago in Norloch. Maerad had told him all about it, he remembered now. Enkir had trapped Maerad and Milana at Pellinor. At the same door. Maerad's exclamation now made sense. Cadvan groaned at his own stupidity. How could he have forgotten? But Enkir still shouldn't have known they were there, and if he was just going on a hunch, the amount of forces he had was quite a risk.

A Hull approached him on a tall black horse. He pulled his head round and forced him to drink from a waterbag. They wanted them alive, then…

As the Hull, obviously the leader, moved off again, Cadvan tried to ask him where they were going. The Hull did not respond.

A few hours later, Cadvan and Maerad were permitted to ride behind one of the Hulls, but this was almost worse; it made Cadvan feel sick. He had to get to Maerad and escape. The storm died out during the night, and the sun came out weakly the next day. The clouds lingered in the sky, but Cadvan did not think it would rain for at least two days. Rain, he thought, would be good weather to make an escape in. It would cover their tracks and hide them.

Cadvan reached out to Maerad with his mind.

"Maerad," he called into her mind. "Maerad, are you alright?"

"Yes," she replied. "My leg still hurts though. I need you to heal it."

"Well I can't yet, obviously; we need to escape first and then I will. Do you remember what you did to escape Arkan?"

"Yes," Maerad replied.

"Because I think we should do that. Remember to hold your shield as you create your semblance and veil yourself. But not yet; when it starts to rain. Rain is good weather for escaping."

Two days after they had been ambushed, it started to rain in the evening. Maerad felt Cadvan touch her mind again.

"Are you ready?" he asked. "Prepare yourself. Create your shield and make your semblance."

"Which way do we go?" Maerad asked him. She could almost sense him looking around, thinking, calculating.

"Directly to your right," he said.

"Alright," Maerad agreed. "I'm starting now."

She carefully created her shield, so the Hulls couldn't sense her magery. When she was sure it was strong, she made her semblance. It was easier this time, and when Cadvan said into her mind, "Now!" she let the semblance out of her mind, veiled herself, slipped carefully off the horse and ran through a gap between two Hulls. She dodged the wers, making for the trees. But before she got there, a cry went up from the Hulls.

"They are trying to get away!" the leader screamed. Maerad ran faster to keep up with Cadvan, who she was leaning on heavily because of her leg. As she stumbled, she couldn't stop a faint cry from escaping her, and she briefly lost concentration, becoming visible. A bolt of black lightning came from behind and hit Cadvan in the back. He froze without a sound, flickering back into the view of the Hulls as he did. Without his support, she fell, and soon the Hulls had found her by kicking around Cadvan, and shot a bolt of lightning at her. She felt herself freeze.

The Hulls manipulated their limbs like dolls, and lifted them back onto the horses. Maerad felt like an observer in her own body; she could blink, and she could breathe – with difficulty – but she could not move any of her limbs or even her head.

Over the next few days, the Hulls seemed to get increasingly nervous. They rarely spoke, except for the leader to tell them to go faster or for Maerad's or Cadvan's Hull to tell one of them to keep still.

The spell to freeze them had worn off and had not been renewed, but now their hands were bound together and tied to the saddle. Maerad thought they must be getting close to their destination. Cadvan had told her through mindtouch that he thought they were being taken to the Nameless One. Maerad's insides went cold at the thought.

"I think he's in Dagra," he had continued.

Maerad watched a scrawny cow desperately trying to find a few last blades of grass from the bare field it was being grazed in. The hedge was so thin the owners of the field had tried to improve it with a makeshift fence made of uncut logs. One end had been pulled away by people desperate for firewood and building materials, so a young child of around 10 sat in the field to make sure the cow did not escape. His mother had died of the white sickness several years ago when she had gone to the town, his father had been blinded and still struggled to help the boy's relatively healthy but helplessly old grandfather in the fields. The boy knew that his grandfather would die soon, and had no idea what they would do when this happened; they couldn't leave the cow to escape and his father certainly couldn't work the field on his own.

To the boy, it came almost as a relief when the Hulls killed him.

To their horror, Maerad and Cadvan were forced to eat the cow stolen from the dying family that night around a fire made of wood from the makeshift fence.

The next day, around noon, Maerad saw something on the horizon. A tower, a dark tower that glittered forbiddingly in the sun.

"Dagra," Cadvan said into her mind. "That's the Iron Tower." The tower came closer and closer as the day wore on, and they were almost there by the time the sun was beginning to set. The Hulls continued on, obviously wanting to arrive before nightfall. The sky gradually darkened, and the sun had gone before they arrived. Maerad and Cadvan were dragged from the horses and the Hulls pulled them by the straps around their wrists, through enormous gates and down dark streets, until finally they arrived at the base of the tower. They were taken inside through a door with two Hulls outside. They spoke quietly to Maerad's and Cadvan's guards, then allowed them inside. They had to walk up 6 flights of stairs, before being dragged into a large dimly-lit room, sparsely furnished. Their bonds were cut roughly - obviously they were not expected to be able to escape. In front, Maerad could see a dark shape which might just have been a man sitting in a large chair. Immediately, she felt a cold hard will pressing against her mind. She reached out a hand to Cadvan who held it firmly in his own.

"So here you are," the man said quietly but coldly. Maerad squinted through the darkness. All she could see was a shadow and the glint of an eye. "Imank," the faceless voice said. "You may go." Maerad used the pause to look around. The room was ill-lit and cold. The walls were made of polished black stone, which reflected the dim light coming from several flickering iron braziers attached to the walls.

By this time, Imank was gone. The man turned his attention back on them. He did not speak. Eventually, she heard Cadvan ask, "Am I right in thinking we are in the presence of the one often known as the Nameless?"

"Quite correct." Cadvan squeezed her hand briefly.

"What do you want with us?" Maerad asked.

"Cease these infernal questions." He had not once raised his voice, but neither of them dared disobey. "Now", he said very quietly and calmly, "you will tell me what you have done with my tuning fork." It was not a question.

"What tuning fork?" Maerad asked, confusion dimming her fear.

"You know full well what tuning fork," he said dangerously, his voice rising almost imperceptibly. "The tuning fork you stole from my tower. I know it was you, nobody else has the nerve or stupidity to break in and steal it. So what have you done with it?"

"We haven't got it! We don't know anything about a tuning fork!" Maerad said desperately.

"What's so special about this tuning fork anyway?" Cadvan asked.

"It is none of your business."

"Well, clearly it is or how are we supposed to know which tuning fork you're talking about? There's more than one in the whole of Edil-Amarandh!" Cadvan pointed out.

"You will kindly watch your tongue unless you wish it to be ripped out of your head." Sharma's voice was calm, but nevertheless had a hard edge to it. Maerad stepped closer to Cadvan, and even as they held hands Cadvan now clutched Maerad's elbow with his right hand.

"This is your last chance before we begin negotiations in a rather different manner. It involves pain," he added, not leaving them in any doubt. "So for the last time, where is my tuning fork?"

"We haven't got your blasted fork!" Cadvan burst out, suddenly sounding angry.

"Then you will watch her suffer!" Sharma raised his voice for the first time. It sounded like the terrified screams of innocent children, bloodthirsty war-cries, wers screeching. "Ilidh ca Elednor nara!" he yelled. Immediately, Maerad felt an excruciating sensation as though her very thoughts were being torn out of her head. She gasped and swayed, Cadvan catching her as she almost collapsed to the ground. All at once, darkness began to eat at her vision, she felt nauseous and shaky. The pain intensified and spread to her chest, as though her heart was being split in two. She felt Cadvan lower her to the floor before blackness totally claimed her.

Cadvan stood up to face Sharma, whose face he still could not see, and his fury made him rise up to his full height. He began to glow gently as he summoned his power. Sharma moved his hand as if grabbing something out of the air. Cadvan gasped as the light around him disappeared.

"What did you do to her?" Cadvan demanded.

"A small spell," Sharma replied, sounding amused. "Well, not so small. I removed her Bardic powers, you see. I imagine it's agony for her." Cadvan called him something unprintable in response, and Sharma chuckled.

"You have such courage. It will be your downfall. BOY!" He yelled the last word, and a second later a boy of around 17 came into the room. He was well built and looked strong. A dagger glinted at his belt, beside a broadsword.

"Take these two to the dungeons. And give me their packs."

"Yes sir," the boy said; he pulled both of their packs off them roughly, and handed them to Sharma before turning back to them. "Get in front of me," he ordered, pulling out his dagger. Cadvan scowled but picked up Maerad, following the boy out of the room through the door behind and to the right of them, through which they had been taken inside. The boy rested his fist in Cadvan's back, so that Cadvan was just one flick of the boy's wrist away from death. Cadvan didn't really think the boy would kill him – Sharma was too eager to get his tuning fork – but there were plenty of places he could strike with ease to cause pain and not death.

"What's your name?" Cadvan asked, wanting to get the boy talking in case he let something slip.

"Dhalla." He paused, seemingly considering something. "Are you Cadvan of Lirigon and Maerad of Pellinor?"

There was no point in hiding it – Sharma knew who they were anyway. "We are." They walked on through the dark stone corridors in silence for a few minutes. The corridors had been sloping steadily downwards.

"Just a word of advice – you won't escape, so don't bother trying."

"I'll bear that in mind," Cadvan told him.

They didn't speak another word until they arrived at a heavy metal door, which Dhalla held open for Cadvan so he could get in with Maerad, then spoiled the effect rather by shoving him inside. Through the door was yet another corridor, narrow; no more than a few feet. It was a dead end, this time of thick metal bars, black fire licking the supports at the bottom. Dhalla pushed Cadvan inside the door to the left, and locked it. The room was dark, badly lit, completely bare except for a bucket, had one small window, and was about the size of a large master bedroom.

"You won't escape," he said again as he turned and went out the other door. Cadvan heard a key turning as he laid Maerad gently onto a few straw pallets that would have to serve as a bed.

"Oh, Maerad," he sighed. "What are we going to do?"

He sat with Maerad for hours, wondering how he could reverse Sharma's spell. It seemed that he had stolen her magery, so it was likely that only Sharma could give it her back. But maybe…

His musings were interrupted by a noise outside. He sent out his hearing; there were three sets of footsteps outside. Cadvan stood up and waited nervously. A minute later, the door opened, and two people very familiar to Cadvan walked in, accompanied by Dhalla.

It was Saliman and Hem.