The Sword of Wayland Read online

  * * * * *

  The wizard and the queen strode into the chamber. The floor had been cleared, and the room was empty except for a seething cauldron over the fire.

  Grimbert directed Cynethryth to stand on one side of the cauldron, while he vanished into a shadowy corner.

  He returned bearing a leather jerkin, inscribed with strange Lappish runes and symbols, and festooned with feathers, bones, and metal figurines. Arranging this over his thin shoulders with an almost ritualistic gesture, Grimbert produced a long thin wand, seemingly from nowhere. He began to trace strange mystical symbols over the mouth of the cauldron. Producing a bone flute, he began to play a meandering, maddening tune upon it.

  Cynethryth watched impatiently. This was not the first time she had witnessed the man’s witchcraft, and she knew it would not be the last. But, although she knew that he was indeed a powerful wizard, and had seen many uncanny things appear under his power, she still found his capering tiresome.

  The wizard wove a hand through the air before him, swaying at the same time, as if to the staccato beat of a drum that only he could hear. His piping quickened in pace, grew to a repetitive keen.

  In an instant, Grimbert ceased, and stood stock-still. He raised his left hand, and a shower of dried herbs drifted down to float on the bubbling water.

  A cloud of steam arose, and instantly cleared to reveal the water as flat as a mirror. Grimbert raised his head, and caught Cynethryth’s eye. He beckoned to her, grinning weirdly.

  At his direction, she bent over the cauldron.

  ‘Gaze into the waters,’ crooned the wizard. ‘Gaze deeply, and tell me what you see…’

  Cynethryth peered through the rising steam, her forehead creased with a puzzled frown. She could see nothing but the water; it was dark, murky, impenetrable… But wait! In the darkness, something stirred.

  ‘I see a man…’ she said slowly. ‘In a clearing in the forest. He lies on his side, staring towards me. Beside him, two other figures lie asleep.

  ‘Now he shakes them awake…’