Dream Finder by Roger Taylor

Author:Roger Taylor [Taylor, Roger]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Fiction, Fantasy, Epic, (¯`'•.¸//(*_*)\\¸.•'´¯)
ISBN: 9781843192770
Google: 44p4fyO6txMC
Amazon: 1843192772
Publisher: Bladud Books
Published: 2007-04-02T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter 23

Ibris put his hand to his head wearily. ‘What did you make of all that, Ciarll?’ he asked.

Feranc shrugged slightly. ‘Very strange,’ he replied. ‘Estaan’s Mantynnai, he sees things the way they are better than most. If he admits to being terrified then it was for some good reason. What did the wolf say to you?’

Ibris smiled. ‘Told me to use my nose,’ he replied with a chuckle. ‘Called me a pack leader.’ He sat down and stretched his legs wearily. ‘Fair comment I suppose and, for what it’s worth, I don’t think the Dream Finder’s lying, or trying to ingratiate himself. But his tale is so preposterous.’

‘Dream Finding is something I’ve no experience of,’ Feranc said. ‘But there are many strange things in the world and the wolf’s advice is sound under the circumstances.’

Ibris nodded thoughtfully. ‘Strange indeed,’ he said. ‘I can’t avoid feeling that events are moving quite beyond my control. As if some . . . outside . . . power were forcing them along.’

Feranc waited impassively.

Then, rather awkwardly, Ibris said, ‘The Mantynnai came much later than you, but they are your countrymen, aren’t they?’ He looked at Feranc, almost plaintively. It was a subject he had touched on lightly at times, but Feranc had never responded and he had never pressed the question.

Feranc nodded. ‘They are,’ he said, without deliberation. ‘But I know none of them, nor why they’re here. And, clear-sighted though they are, I doubt any of them know me for one of their countrymen.’

Ibris rested his head on his hands. Feranc’s almost casual admission was in itself oddly unsettling. As if in some way it implied further the importance of events far beyond his knowledge or his will.

‘You understand that nothing would have made me pry into this but a great sense of unease and Estaan’s specific reference to his past,’ he said. ‘You know that I accept them for what they are, here and now, and for what they’ve been since they came to this land. Just as I’ve always accepted you.’ Feranc nodded again.

‘But tell me what you can that might give me some guidance,’ Ibris went on. ‘Tell me what there is in your country that could terrify one of my Mantynnai.’

Feranc sat down opposite the Duke, his face unreadable. ‘This is my country, Ibris,’ he said. ‘But I understand your need.’ He took a deep breath. ‘I know of nothing in my birthland that could produce such a reaction. It was a country with a strong . . . soldierly . . . tradition. But it wasn’t warlike. It was civilized, peaceful, well governed, and above all free. A rare balance, as I’ve found on my travels since. Strength doesn’t bring freedom, but freedom can’t survive without true strength; the strength that comes from inside a people. The strength to see your neighbour wearing a sword and to be glad of it, knowing that he is well capable of using it, and will draw it to protect you if need arises.

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