"It was kind of your father to grant you his hunting estate to use for training, Eric," Guy commented, riding awkwardly alongside the more proficient noble.
"Nothing kind about it," Eric replied. "He's been wanting to offload it onto me for years. I'm only surprised it took him this long."
"His father wouldn't let him," Anastacia commented from behind her husband. Eric twisted round to look at her.
"And now grandfather's dead," he stated. "Dad could at least have waited until after the funeral. Shown some measure of respect for the old man."
"Miles doesn't have any respect for anyone but himself," Brigid's quiet statement might have gone unheard, had Eric not been using his Power to control the horses. He pulled round sharply to face her, the sudden movement causing Guy's horse to rear up, startled. His eyes narrowed angrily and he raised a hand to point at Brigid. The young woman smiled as a glowing silver arrow materialised behind him. Then a shimmering blue field sprang into existence, surrounding Eric and his horse.
"Stop that," Anastacia commanded. "Both of you." Eric looked puzzled for a moment, before looking behind him. Noticing Brigid's arrow pointing at his head, he rapidly dropped his hand and guided his horse to one side.
"It wouldn't have killed him," Brigid said as the shaft winked out of existence. "Just knocked him off his horse."
"Can you be sure of that?" Anastacia asked. "Surely that's why we're out here, isn't it? To learn to mitigate the more lethal aspects of our powers."
"I've been able to control the intensity of my bolts for years," retorted Brigid. "Even before I met Guy."
"Speaking of Guy…," a voice interjected, "Perhaps one of you could help me here…." His horse's sudden movement had thrown Guy off, but his foot had become caught in the saddle strap, and the horse's movements were getting it even more tangled up.
The shield around Eric faded as its creator burst into laughter, along with the other two still on their horses. Anastacia reached out with the Power to calm Guy's steed as Brigid jumped down to unbuckle the strap trapping her husband's foot.
"Thanks," he said, when he could stand. "Whose idea was it to use horses anyway? Why couldn't we use bikes?"
"Because bikes need psionic talent to use, which means Eric and I can't," Anastacia explained patiently, as she had done so many times in the past few years. "And they'd scare the horses more than Eric can control if you'd brought yours along with us. Horses are very sensitive creatures when it comes to psionics."
"And using horses was your wife's idea," Eric stated, "so take it up with her."
Guy looked down at Brigid, who had just finished re-buckling his horse's saddle strap. "Er…, maybe later. So what's this estate actually like?" he asked, climbing back onto the horse.
"Huge," Eric replied. "About a dozen farms bordering an area of woodland you could lose a small town in. I haven't been there since I was a child, but I remember the forest seemed such a peaceful place. Almost like the Conclave citadel."
"My father says the citadel was built on an old monastery. The site's been considered a holy place for nearly two thousand years."
"I suppose he remembers them building original monastery, right?"
"He's not that old," Guy laughed, "but he was alive when the monks were still living there before the Fall."
"It's odd," Eric mused. "It was always my mother who took me to the forest. She loved it. So did I. I would have thought my father did too, from all the hunting trophies at home, but for some reason he hates the place."
"Do you think it's because his brother died there, perhaps?" Anastacia wondered.
"His brother?" Surprise broke through the calm dispassion that was characteristic whenever Eric channelled as turned to face her, but he managed to maintain control of the Power flowing within him.
"What? You didn't know?" Anastacia asked, puzzled.
"No," replied her husband. "Nobody ever said anything about my having an uncle. How do you know about him?"
"Technically you didn't. He died before you were born. My father's archivists keep detailed records of the noble families. Once I understood I'd have to marry one of your family, I decided to learn all I could about them."
"So who was he? How did he die?"
"His name was Erik, like yours," Anastacia replied, "and it was a hunting accident. While they were stalking a stag, Erik and Miles split up to flank it, but your uncle moved too far around the beast. Something startled the stag as your father shot at it. He missed his target, and killed his brother instead. That was the last time he ever went hunting."
"That actually explains a few things about dad. I guess he named me after his brother, then. Or was that mother's idea?"
"I couldn't say. They never explained why they called you Eric, and nobody ever asked. Apparently Miles was somewhat difficult for some time afterward. He practically crippled Lord Talbot's brother for suggesting that it might not have been an accident. Erik was the elder brother, and stood to inherit the title."
"Perhaps we should get going again," Guy interrupted. "You said the lodge was deep in the forest, and we're not even at the edge yet. If we want to get there before nightfall…."
"Well that's not a problem," replied Eric absently. "We're actually on the estate now. The forest should be on the other side of that ridge over there." He pointed at a line of hills a few miles distant. "It's in a valley, so we can't see the treetops from here."
"No point hanging around here, then." Guy said, setting off along the road that lead around the ridge. The others followed, Eric bringing up the rear in silence, brooding on the new information his wife had given him.
The road took them round a path three times as long as if they'd ridden straight across the fields, and twice they were delayed by passing a field that was being harvested. The farmers of this region were rich enough to afford combined harvesters, large psionically-powered devices that reaped, threshed and winnowed the crop in a single operation. The streamlined vehicles floated noiselessly above the ground across the fields. Red danger signs on the front warned people away from the infinitely thin Dimension Blades that cut the corn. Somewhere inside the device, the grain was separated from the chaff, which was collected in a container floating to one side. The grain was deposited into a similar container on the other side of the vehicle. Another man drove a different device behind the harvester which collected the discarded stalks and packed them into large bales.
Despite the silence with which they worked, or maybe because of it, both vehicles spooked the horses, causing the party to halt while Eric struggled to restrain their mounts. Only when the harvester and baler were moving to the other end of the field could they continue along the road. As they watched the vehicles pass, Guy thought back to what his father had said regarding their construction. Something about them being noisy, dirty machines before the Fall, running on a limited fuel supply that polluted the environment. Despite the effect psionics had on domestic animals, it was certainly a better source of power than the so-called 'fossil fuels' had been.
By the time they reached the hedge marking the forest boundary, the sun hung low in the afternoon sky, casting long shadows toward the ridge. Eric led the party round to an iron gate in the hedge, which Anastacia pulled open with delicate weaves of Air. Her husband nodded his thanks as he guided his horse through, stopping suddenly as the animal reared up without warning. Years of practice kept him in his saddle as he swore loudly.
"Problem?" Guy asked, with a wry smile.
"It's gone!" Eric exclaimed. "The Power's gone!"
"You've not lost it for years," Anastacia said, puzzled. "Well, not unless you were exhausted, which you obviously aren't, so you should be able to grasp it again easily enough."
"I've been trying," Eric was starting to panic, "but I can't even sense the Source. The Void's just … empty."
"I can still channel," Anastacia spurred her horse toward her husband. "Maybe I can…." She broke off with a start as she passed through the gate. "Guess I spoke too soon."
"You too?" Eric asked. Anastacia nodded.
"It's like there's nothing there at all," she said. "Could the Storm be doing this? Has he found a way to block our powers, do you think?"
"I doubt it," Brigid commented quietly. "Both of you come back here a moment."
Eric came through first, breathing a sigh of relief as he passed through the gap in the hedge. "It's back," he said, looking down at a fallen leaf in the ground, which slowly lifted up level with his eyes. Anastacia followed, smiling happily as a breeze rose up, blowing several other leaves along the ground in a tight circle.
"Now try and pick up that stick from here," Brigid pointed through the gate.
Eric turned and concentrated for a moment, then frowned. "There's some kind of barrier there. My weaves can't get past the other side of the hedge."
"Neither can mine," Anastacia confirmed. "Is it just us, or are your powers blocked too, Brigid?"
A silver arrow appeared beside the younger woman's head and launched itself toward the stick. As it passed the hedge, its glow faded considerably, and although the shaft hit the stick square on, it did little more than rock it slightly. A thrown mind blade from Guy yielded similar results.
"Not blocked, but almost useless, it seems," the Soulknife said. "Looks like we won't be practising our powers here after all."
"Apparently not," Eric said, "but we can sort that out in the morning. I'd rather not impose on the local farmers when there's a perfectly good cabin a couple of hours' ride into the forest. I'm sure Stacy and I can live without our Power for a while. It's not as though there are many dangerous animals out during the day, and you and Brigid can no doubt scare off any that might cross our paths between you."
"If you're sure you don't mind...," Guy began, cutting off as a glowing shaft materialised between the two men, pointing into the forest. Instinctively, Guy summoned a pair of mind blades and readied them to throw at the shadow emerging from the depths of the forest.
The shadow quickly resolved into a figure nearly six feet tall, with pointed, tufted ears poking through a shaggy brown mane. Drooping eyebrows framed a pair of pale wide eyes, above a snout-like nose that dominated the face. The strange humanoid was dressed in a colourful coat that flared at the waist like a kilt, with green trousers and a brown leather boots.
It was also sucking its thumb thoughtfully.