The Return of the Sword by Roger Taylor

Author:Roger Taylor [Taylor, Roger]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Fiction, Fantasy, Epic, (¯`'•.¸//(*_*)\\¸.•'´¯)
ISBN: 1843192845
Google: sYEgjeuL2PkC
Amazon: B004I1KN4A
Publisher: Mushroom eBooks
Published: 2003-02-10T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 19

Farnor found his nervousness returning. It alternated with an increasing excitement. What was this place going to be like? And what were its people going to be like? Gulda he knew, or at least had met, albeit only briefly, though while she had made a powerful impression on him he could not fathom why she was held almost in awe by his otherwise commanding and apparently fearless companions. What would Andawyr be like? The descriptions he had been given did not seem to fit the leader of what was apparently an ancient and wise Order. And, not least, what would this great leader, the owner of Anderras Darion, Hawklan, be like? Old? Young? Ferocious and grim? Massively strong? Battle-scarred? Clad in heroic armour, sitting on a great throne with an armed retinue about him?

He fought down a powerful urge to pester the Goraidin with questions, and he could see that Marna was doing the same. More than once as they drew nearer to the castle they exchanged uncertain anticipatory glances. It did not help him that they were now travelling at a very leisurely walking pace. In the end he voiced his concern. ‘Can’t we go a little faster?’

‘Yes,’ Yengar replied. But they didn’t.

Then they were entering Pedhavin, the village that lay on the tumbling slopes at the foot of the steep ascent to Anderras Darion. Farnor and Marna had been silent for some time, their gaze fixed on the increasingly dominant presence of the castle. For though it was dwarfed by the mountain peaks on either side, dominate it did, like a matriarch between two hulking offspring. Above the blank and windowless wall in which was set the Great Gate could be seen a jostling forest of towers and spires. They ramped back far out of sight in a seemingly random array as though, like a mountain flood, they had crashed down the valley to surge up against an immovable dam. As Farnor stared up he thought from time to time that he could see a pattern in them, but whenever he tried to study it, it slipped away, like a strange shadow at the edge of a dream.

The Goraidin smiled at one another, seeing the wonder written on the faces of the two young people. But their smiles had little in the way of adult indulgence because, though they themselves had seen it many times, Anderras Darion always drew the eye and never failed to stir the spirit.

Only as they entered the village and the castle slipped from view did Farnor and Marna feel able to speak.

‘So big.’ Marna whispered through the clatter of the hooves on the stone streets, as though too loud a voice might bring an echoing rebuke down on her. ‘I thought the castle in the valley was big, but this . . .’

‘Yes,’ Farnor agreed inadequately. He could feel countless questions bubbling inside him but he could not find the words to ask them though, in tones as hushed as Marna’s, he

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