It was late afternoon when Horyse and his escort arrived at Last Bridge and were met by a group of mounted Royal Guard, leading a spare horse for him. The road from Last Bridge to Barhedrin was well maintained but steep in places, and it was a long and weary ride before they finally reached the guard post. It was also well after dark, but the commander of the escort, a taciturn but not unfriendly woman named Jessil, explained that the power of the guard post's Charter Stone extended far enough to protect them.
By the time they rode through the gates and into the guard post itself, Horyse was so weary that he could barely stay upright in the saddle, and he cursed himself for his weakness. Karim herself came out to welcome him and to his disgust, he had to be helped from the saddle.
"It's no shame, Lieutenant," said Karim, softly. "Everyone here knows of what happened at Last Bridge, and how you were wounded." That almost made it worse; from his memory, he had not put up much of a fight in that action. Karim turned to two of the guard. "Kearn, Jessil, take our friend to his quarters, and arrange some food. I'll send Linnaed to check him over." Jessil immediately came to his side, along with a stocky, cheerful-looking young man whom he assumed must be Kearn.
Horyse found that he had to lean on both Jessil and Kearn to make the short walk to his quarters in the guard post's central keep, where he was glad to collapse onto the bed. To his relief, Jessil left, leaving Kearn to assist Linnead, a quiet, grey-haired man who was the chief healer. Gently they stripped away his tunic and shirt, and Linnead examined his wound, which had begun to re-open and was bleeding a little, one of the stitches having worked loose. Linnead frowned.
"Ideally, you should not have been allowed to rise, let alone travel, for at least another week. But it would have been more dangerous to leave you unprotected in Ancelstierre. I will replace the Charter spell for healing with a stronger one, but Charter Magic will only go so far. You must rest tomorrow and the day after."
Linnead cleaned the wound and dressed it with some sort of herbal mixture which burned a little at first, but then left a pleasant warmth. Then stretched out his right hand, palm down above the wound, and Horyse was fascinated to see a stream of Charter marks flowing in a spiral pattern, from Linnead's hand into the wound. When he had finished, he said,
"Jessil is bringing you some food, then you must sleep. I will see you in the morning."
The food turned out to be a thick chicken stew, and Horyse was able to stay awake just long enough to eat it. To his embarrassment, Jessil had to grab the bowl to stop him spilling the last dregs. She grinned at him.
"Linnead placed Charter marks on you for sleep, I think they are taking effect. Rest well, my friend."
When Horyse next woke, he found that he felt refreshed, and that for the first time since Last Bridge, there was no pain in his shoulder. He was lying in a large and comfortable bed in a pleasant, simply furnished room that was somewhat larger than his quarters in the Officers' Mess at the Crossing Point. There were no windows, save for a couple of narrow slits, but Charter spelled lamps lit the room with a pleasant glow, and a fire was burning in the grate. There was a knock at the door and Kearn came in.
"Good morning," he said, cheerfully. Horyse had already noticed that even in the Royal Guard, Old Kingdom soldiers seemed less conscious of rank and titles than they were in Ancelstierre. Kearn was bearing a tray, from which welcome aromas of bacon, egg and coffee were rising.
"Breakfast, then Linnead will come and check that wound," Kearn said. Horyse ate ravenously, feeling the strength flowing back into body and mind. By the time Linnead entered he was restless and fidgeting, and hoped that he would not need to be confined here for another minute, let alone another day. Linnead examined the wound and nodded with satisfaction.
"The wound is fully closed, and there is no lingering taint of Free Magic. You are fully healed."
"You said two days?" Horyse asked, tentatively, not wanting to be kept in bed another moment. Linnead grinned.
"I did indeed, and to make sure it happened I placed Charter marks for rest and sleep, and renewed them as needed. You've slept three nights and two days, my friend. Now, Captain Karim would like you to join her. When you are ready, ring the bell and Kearn will show you the way." Horyse followed the healer's pointing finger and saw a bell-pull.
Horyse found his uniform hanging in a small closet, his tunic and shirt freshly pressed; boots and equipment cleaned, though not polished to a gleam as they would be in Ancelstierre. He dressed, deciding to wear his sword but leave his leather jerkin and other equipment. He noticed with a frown that the seams of his trousers and shirt seemed to be unravelling in a couple of places. Must have been damaged in the fight at Last Bridge, he decided, and made a mental note to get hold of a sewing kit later on.
Kearn led him up a spiral staircase, into a room near to the top of the tower. It was obviously an office or study of some sort, with a wide desk strewn with papers. There were no proper windows here either, he observed, and realised that this must be a defensive measure. One wall was almost entirely covered in a map of the Old Kingdom, and Horyse studied it in fascination, trying to memorise as much as he could. He was so absorbed that he did not hear the soft opening and closing of the door.
"It's fascinating, isn't it?" He turned round with a start to find Captain Karim standing at his shoulder. She cut short his stammered apologies. "I understand that there are no such maps in Ancelstierre. There is another one in our library, and you may study it as often as you wish, when you are not otherwise engaged. Now come, sit, and let us talk." She gestured to two chairs set either side of the fire, a tray of coffee in between.
"Now, I know that you will have many questions," Karim began. "But first of all, may we address you as Sammeth, or Sam? We do not stand much on rank here, although I am addressed as Captain; and your Ancelstierran way of having two names is strange to us. We can call you Horyse, if you prefer."
"Sammeth will be fine," he answered. It felt oddly appropriate to separate Sammeth, apprentice Charter mage in the Old Kingdom, from Horyse, lieutenant in the Ancelstierran army.
"What do you know about the fight at Last Bridge?" Karim asked next.
"I remember some of it, and Captain Tindall told me as much as he knew," Horyse answered, and repeated what he could recall of the action, and what Tindall had told him of the river of Death and his rescue by Karim herself. When he had finished, Karim nodded.
"I will tell you what I know, and then you can ask any questions you have left. We had suspected for some time that something was wrong south of the Wall. Our patrols encountered no Ancelstierran patrols, and found no patrol signs. We tried sending message hawks, but the first two disappeared, and the third returned badly mauled by Gore Crows and with its message undelivered. We could not risk any more. At the same time, I was ordered to send yet more of my garrison to Belisare to help deal with the trouble there. Then we began experiencing attacks from the Dead. Just Hands and not very well organised or determined, but it took all our resources to keep repelling them and we had to keep patrols to a minimum. It's clear to me now that this was a deliberate attempt to divert our attention and prevent us from investigating further." She paused to refill their coffee cups.
"Then, a patrol found several slain Ancelstierran soldiers at Last Bridge. They had a Charter Mage with them who had survived long enough to leave a patrol sign. It was garbled but spoke of the mysterious fog and the weakening of your Charter mages."
"Lance Corporal Hockley," murmured Horyse. So, the patrol had got their message through after all, and died in the attempt. He resolved to recommend them all for gallantry awards when he got back to HQ. Karim went to her desk, and from a drawer withdrew several sets of Ancelstierran identity tags which she handed to Horyse. Both the tags and their chains were corroded with rust.
"Whoever, or whatever, killed them was unable to remove their heads or bring them back as hands. We performed the burial rites, and saved these so you would know who they were. They were brave men. I'm sorry that the tags are so badly rusted. Anything machine made in Ancelstierre seems to corrode or fall apart in the Old Kingdom after a while, and the effect is worsened by close contact with magic, whether Charter or Free. I'm afraid your shirt and trousers won't last long," she added with a smile. "Kearn will find you a shirt and breeches, before the problem becomes embarrassing. Your tunic seems to be holding up, it must be hand-made. But I'm afraid the buttons will probably corrode."
Horyse nodded in understanding; he had already noticed a patina of tarnish on his normally gleaming insignia. He was glad he had worn his best tunic, which was hand-made, and that his cherished combat boots were also hand-crafted.
Karim resumed her story. "I realised that whatever was happening involved a powerful necromancer, possibly even one of the Greater Dead, and was beyond my capacity to deal with alone. So, I sent a message north, asking for advice from the Abhorsen."
"The Abhorsen?" Horyse repeated, stupidly.
"The Abhorsen is the person responsible for dealing with necromancy and Free Magic, and for binding and laying to rest the Dead. It turned out that he had heard of trouble near the Wall, and was already on his way here.
"We were in this very room, deliberating as to what to do, when a message hawk arrived from the Clayr. They are a large clan of female seers who live in a glacier to the north-west, and can See different futures."
"I've heard of them."
"They had Seen your patrol under attack at Last Bridge, by a being that both they and the Abhorsen recognised at once. The masked figure you were attacked by is named Chlorr of the Mask. She is both a powerful Necromancer and one of the Greater Dead. It is clear now that the man named Hedge was in league with her. It would appear that their plan was to try and separate you from your men." Karim paused again, this time to add another log to the fire.
"Necromancers use a set of seven bells, each infused with Free Magic, and each with a different power. Hedge used the bell Kibeth, the Walker, to force the patrol to retreat and leave you isolated. Chlorr then used Saraneth, the Binder, to force you to obey her will, and Kibbeth to draw you to her. But you fought the bells' command with all your own willpower, which must be considerable because Chlorr could not compel you to submit. She must want you badly, because she drew the seventh bell, Astarael, the Weeper."
Horyse felt a chill in the room at that name, though he did not know why. Karim looked sombre as she continued.
"Had she succeeded in ringing Astarael, all who heard its voice would have been thrown far into Death. For her that would be of little matter; she has returned from Death to Life on countless occasions over the centuries. In Death, your spirit would be utterly at her mercy, for whatever ill purpose she had contrived for you. Fortunately for you, and maybe for all of us, we arrived before she could sound the bell. Abhorsen used Saraneth to bind Chlorr, and Kibbeth to walk her far into Death. And he destroyed the body she was inhabiting. It will take years, decades even, before she can return to Life and inhabit another body."
"There was a man in a blue surcoat, with a bell and a sword," Horyse remembered.
"That was Abhorsen," said Karim. "As soon as the message hawk arrived from the Clayr, we rode out in force to come to your aid. Hedge fled as we approached, but Chlorr made one last effort to ensnare you. Even as Abhorsen commanded her, she struck with her sword. And Astarael sounded. The merest touch of clapper against bell metal, but enough to send you into Death. Had your friend Anshye not been there, anchoring you in life with his touch and his will, you would have surely died. He will become a powerful Charter mage, that one."
Horyse nodded. "I owe him much."
"You did not die, but evil spells in the blade of Chlorr's sword ensured that the wound would not heal; and having heard Astarael's voice, you were trapped on the very border between Life and Death. The rest you know from Captain Tindall."
"What I don't understand," said Horyse, thoughtfully, "is what Chlorr wants with me."
"We do not understand either," answered Karim. "Not the Clayr, nor Abhorsen, nor I. The Clayr have Seen that one day you will be important in defeating a great enemy, but have been unable to See more than that. Whether that enemy is Chlorr herself or another, we cannot tell. All we can do is help you to use and manage your power, to prepare you as best we can for whatever may lie ahead."
Afterwards, Horyse was never quite sure how long he spent in the Old Kingdom, since time had a fluid quality between the two sides of the wall. Certainly, he seemed to spend several months at Barhedrin, yet when he returned to Ancelstierre, only a few weeks had passed.
Much of his time was spent learning Charter magic, often from Karim herself but sometimes from others with particular skills. From Linnead he learned healing spells, and also the secrets of many of the medicinal herbs that grew on both sides of the wall. Merreth, the taciturn Mistress of Arms who oversaw training in fighting arts, drilled him for many weary hours in both swordplay and archery; and in the use of standard fighting spells such as the Arrow Ward. He, in his turn, taught her how to use the Korovian throwing stars. From Culver, the Master Armourer, he learned the rudiments of forging metal, and how to place simple Charter marks for durability and protection into a blade, shield or helmet. He also spent a great deal of time in the small library, studying maps and reading what he could of both Charter and Free magic.
In addition to training, Horyse took part in patrols and in hunting expeditions. Kearn and Jessil were his most frequent companions and the three became fast friends. Occasionally they would meet an Ancelstierran patrol and exchange news. Horyse learned that all had been quiet since the attack at Last Bridge, and that a new CO was expected at any time but had not yet arrived.
It was early winter, and the first flurries of snow were falling, when Karim summoned him one morning from the library, where he was once again studying the map of the Old Kingdom, trying to commit as much as he could to memory.
"You are leaving us today," she told him.
This was unexpected. It was true that he had been beginning to worry about his long absence from the Crossing Point, and to wonder whether he should leave soon, but this seemed very sudden. Karim saw his confusion and smiled. She gestured, and woman he had not seen stepped out of the shadows. She was tall, with nut-brown skin and blond hair, dressed in simple working clothes but over them, a bright red waistcoat.
"I am Vancelle, Second Assistant Librarian in the Great Library of the Clayr." She said this with considerable pride, and Horyse bowed to her in greeting.
"Vancelle brings a message, and other things, from the Clayr," added Karim. "She arrived this morning, by Paperwing." Horyse had heard of the mysterious magical flying craft, and wished he had been there to see it.
"The Nine Day Watch Saw you would leaving today," said Vancelle. "And then these appeared in the Great Library, and we Saw you wearing them."
She handed over a large, linen-wrapped package. Horyse unwrapped it and found what appeared to be a standard issue Ancelstierran leather jerkin. When he examined it, he saw that it was, in fact, made of a double layer of leather; and that in between the two layers was another, made up of some sort of overlapping metal plates. For all that, it was no heavier than the standard jerkin.
"In between the leather layers is Gethre plate, which will withstand all but the heaviest sword thrust," explained Vancelle. "I am told that from the outside, it is indistinguishable from one of your Ancelstierran jerkins. Then, there is this." She handed over another cloth-wrapped package this one long and thin. Horyse found that it was a sword, of the type known in the Old Kingdom as a falchion. He drew it from its scabbard and saw that the blade flowed with Charter marks, and he recognised some as being for durability, strength, sharpness and the rending of flesh already dead. When he gripped the hilt, he found that the balance was perfect, and he felt as though he and the sword were one.
"But I can't accept…" he stammered, and was cut off by Vancelle.
"They are yours, by right and by destiny," she said, firmly. "We can See little of your future, though we have tried, but it is clear that an Anceltierran blade will not serve you. Take them."
He nodded, and shrugged on the jerkin, finding that it fit perfectly, and, if anything, felt lighter and more comfortable than his Ancelstierran issue one, which had fallen apart soon after his arrival at Barhedrin. Then he buckled on the sword. His Ancelstierran cutlass had also failed him; first the blade had rusted and would not take an edge, then it had disintegrated altogether. Under Merreth's stern eye, he had practised with many different blades and had liked the falchion best, even sketching the design in the hope of finding a weaponsmith in Ancelstierre who could replicate it.
Later that morning, Horyse left his quarters for the final time, and went into the main courtyard where Jessil and Kearn were waiting for him. They were to escort him as far as Last Bridge, where an Ancelstierran patrol would meet them. Horyse was slightly sceptical as to whether Karim's message hawk would have got through to the Crossing Point, or been able to deliver its message, but Vancelle assured him that the Clayr had Seen the patrol meet him.
Kearn and Jessil had their own gift for him; a helmet that looked identical to the ones worn by the perimeter garrison, but was lighter in weight and imbued with Charter marks for durability and protection. When he put it on, it was a perfect fit.
"We asked Culver to forge it for you," said Jessil. "It is made of an alloy that is lighter than steel but has all of its strength. And being hand-forged, it will not corrode or fall apart." Karim had explained to him that the effects on Ancelstierran machine-made objects worsened the further one went into the Kingdom, and the longer one spent there. Ancelstierran patrols could spend several days in the Old Kingdom with little more than a bit of rust and the occasional unravelling of a seam. But Horyse's strong connection to the Charter would almost certainly speed up the degradation of anything machine-made he brought with him across the Wall. Horyse thanked Kearn and Jessil, and handed over his gift to them, a case of Ancelstierran beer.
Karim came out to bid him farewell, with Vancelle beside her. She too had a gift for him; a round shield, identical in size to the Ancelstierran-issue bucklers. It was painted in regulation khaki, but quartered with the red and gold shield of the Royal Guard, and the badge of the Crossing Point Scouts. She also handed him a leather wallet, containing several hand-written documents.
"By the authority vested in me by the Regent as Warden of this section of the Wall," she said, "I grant you citizenship of the Old Kingdom. Inside the wallet is a passport that will allow you to travel freely within the bounds of the Kingdom. I am also granting you the honorary rank of Lieutenant in the Royal Guard." Her solemn expression broke into a smile. "You are one of us now, and always will be, Lieutenant Sammeth".
He stammered his thanks and handed over his own gift to her. It was a wooden box containing a small spirit burner and kettle, of the sort he himself often took on patrol, and several packets of best, Army issue Ancelstierran tea. Her smile broadened.
"It's true that I have a liking for Ancelstierran tea, and somehow it never tastes quite right when made with water heated by Charter spell. Thank you, Lieutenant."