The Three Citadels #5

Medowinter. Talisburn. Woods. Lair



“Ello der” said a rather plump man, “who are dese gentlemen you brought wid you?”

Attahl and the rest of the company were stood outside the gates at the fences circling the town of Talisburn.

The fat man pointed rather rudely at the six commanders thinking they were comedians for they were identically dressed, were in a straight line and walked like stone and had done so for as long as the man was watching them coming up; and thinking they were jokers of some sort in their tunics he gave a humble-ish laugh to compliment his pointing. This was much to the disgust of Lumbey and indeed the rest who silenced the man with stern looks. Attahl, on the other hand, was more patient to the mans rather inappropriate behaviour as he has served as guard and doorkeeper at the place ever since Attahl could remember. A very trusty fellow, if not a little fickle and simple.

He was called Medowinter, Medowinter Custodian, in fact he was called Medowinter Lee Custodian, but Medowinter generally, also ’edowinter when his annoying speech problems got the better of peoples humour. But Attahl had more respect;
“Are Medowinter. How are you today old fellow? I hope you haven’t had much trouble from any loose slaves or Lords running about at all”.

The humour was confusing.
“Ah no, no, no! no trouble at all. You can travel any place you like and we’ll be just fine. Any journey at all”.
“Well that will be tested shortly I should expect” and Attahl’s now narrow eyes glanced to his left at Duphos.
“…to the limit!” Duphos suddenly joining in with the bad humour.


After a rather lengthy chat with Medowinter at the gates, (discussing rather trivial matters as the gatekeeper’s brain couldn‘t cope with anymore), Attahl was finally going to fulfil his promise by attending to Goshua’s wounds. He sent Medowinter out to fetch a weed to heal them, it was a weed called Taluntain. It was a small plant looking weed that grew everywhere soil was, it thrived mainly near the roots of trees - feeding off the moist, and the bigger the tree the bigger the mass of Taluntain would be found there. The truth is that it is a widely used remedy for wounds and cuts, even injuries. It is known for it’s healing after-effect, it is supposed to enhance the mind and it’s performance. Once the stems are cut and the fluid is released then rubbed into the lacerated skin the injured are supposed to be totally refreshed from their ordeal and strengthened beyond their normal condition. So popular was Taluntain that many hunters or soldiers used it simply to improve their performance in combat or hunting, or even scouting. And it didn’t take any amount of skill to use correctly, you just had to rub it in the right places. Simple.

It’s a shame the journey to fetch the weed wasn’t as straight forward.

He was sent out by Attahl just before the company had sat down for dinner at 3am. It was a cold and misty day as Medowinter stepped outside the fences of Talisburn reluctantly. He never liked wandering about far, mostly because his job wouldn’t let him, and when he did it was rarely as far as he was to go now. He scarcely remembered when the last time was that he had to go and fetch Taluntain, never mind him having to travel as far as he was ordered to to get it.

Medowinter trudged along somewhat lazily down past Talisburn’s gates, leaving Attahl, Goshua, Duphos and the six jokers to tuck into a meal back at the hall.

It was a very chilly night, the air biting into Medowinter’s skin, but he resisted the need to curse at himself as he quite enjoyed the wondering and trekking alone at night, he liked the breeze on his face, and the smooth grass on his feet, which were only covered by small straw sandals baring frozen toes - quite literally. It was not often that he had the chance to wonder freely and escape the posts and fences of Talisburn, and when he did he much relished it.

He had finally approached the area of his destination, he gave out a cry of joy, “Haha! Yes! Here is the place”, realising the familiarity of his surroundings he felt more at ease and quickened his pace - just slightly. Almost a desperate walking pace, eager to fulfil his masters order.

But suddenly he realised something, it made him slow down confusedly, scanning the surroundings eagerly as if to ask his vision for different answers to what he was seeing. The scent had gone. At this point he could usually pick up the magnificent aroma of the Taluntain prowling around his nose. Fragrances of an unknown splendour but refreshing and exhilarating. The vapour from the petals cleansing the atmosphere and luring you in towards their source. But it wasn’t there. There was no trace of the scent anywhere.

But what he did eventually pick up in the air disturbed him greatly. He found he was now inhaling what seemed to be burning.

As he moved further into the small opening to where the store of Taluntain was kept, he stepped back in horror at the scene before his eyes.

Coming further into the opening he saw that the tree that fed the Taluntain at it’s roots was totally burned to the crisp. The roots blackened with ash. The beautiful oak tree was destroyed. And all the Taluntain at its feet were ripped out, like unwanted rags, nothing more.

He couldn’t believe his eyes. He was looking at a mass of wreckage. A tree burned and shrivelled, rendered to a heap of nothingness, and the glorious Taluntain ripped out from the soil and shredded ruthlessly. The sight of the oak and Taluntain used to enrich the lands, but now it seemed to taint it.

He couldn’t advance any further to the eyesore in front of him. His legs now stunned in aghast, he just stood there.

He couldn’t speak, his thoughts took over; Who has done this? What vile creature could wreck such a thing! The only secure source of medicine gone!

He ran through all the people he had seen and known in his long years, and no one matched the brutality needed to do such an act. No one in the right mind. No sane person.

He moved forward, his mind recovering from the shock.

Puzzled, he walked past the opening. He knew there were more Taluntain scattered about. But it was just a case of finding it. There was a small forest up ahead, he’d have to make his way there to find some. But it was getting darker now, and something told him he wasn’t going to go undisturbed.

Grey clouds drew over Talisburn as night was nearing. The company had long finished their dinner and Goshua knew he had some unfinished business to attend to.

He was in bed, he’d been in bed since he first arrived. His wombs were rendering him weaker and weaker. But, having said that, he’s beginning to mend if just a little.

The door opened gently and Attahl walked in. “How are you feeling?” he asked. Goshua put the last remnants of his dinner on the floor beside him and adjusted himself to be more upright in Attahl’s presence. (Probably to show he wasn’t as weak and useless as he was feeling).

Attahl responded. “So how bad was your ordeal with Celasus? Seems he left you quite worse off”.

Goshua flinched agitatedly at the comment. Knowing he had done a great thing and that he felt he should be proud of it.
“I saved the jewel Attahl. I saved the jewel from being stolen by that thief”.
“Oh I know. I do not undermine your accomplishments. You have done an incredibly brave thing up there. You practically risked your life to save what is important. Without that jewel we cannot go through with this journey, I don’t know exactly what part this jewel will play but it counts for something. We’re not going on this journey for our own curiosity alone. We are doing this to dispel our ignorance, mine at least. And of course the Lord and his army will hardly be at the bottom of the list, God knows what he’s doing,” he raised his head a little, “and now Goshua you tell me Celasus is alive after all, and free; the only man that keeps Attesborough sane. If those to men meet-”

Goshua came in abruptly to stop Attahl from dragging down his accomplishment, “Yes I know that clearly enough. But,” he stuttered, “th-there was one other thing I forgot to mention. Or really something that can spin off and mean many other things that we will never know un-until-”
“What is it Goshua?”
“Well it’s just something that Celasus said that’s all. He, he said that Attesborough was going to find the three citadels too. That he was going on the same journey as us! And he knows Attahl, he knows about the jewel”.
“Well I certainly don’t believe that! I found it stashed away in the cellars, there is no way that Attesborough could have seen it and not picked it up. If he had seen it down there then he would surely have kept it. But it was there like it had never been touched”.
“Well maybe he hid it there”.
“Folly!” Attahl shouted, “The scholar hid it in there. I thought I explained all that quite clearly”.
“Well maybe he new about it but didn’t know where it was”.
“Hm…” Attahl murmured deeply to himself. Admitting the force of Goshua’s argument. “…mm I don’t think so entirely. I doubt if even Attesborough was even alive when the scholar was planning his escape, he certainly wasn’t in the throne.”
“All I’m saying is that he knows about the jewel and what ever that means…I doubt it’s a good omen for us”.
“What do you mean…exactly?”
“Well, I don’t know. Maybe he can control it, or have some sort of power over it, or command”.
“I don’t mean to mistreat your suggestion Goshua but that is quite unlikely”.
“Oh Attahl I don’t know. I’m all in a fuss”.
“I know. Maybe I should have left you alone a while longer to recover from the journey?”
“It’s not that, really. It’s just,” Goshua’s pale yet life-full face retreated slightly in the shadow of his dishevelled fringe, and reddening timidly, “it’s just him, sir. Celasus. The look in his eyes was terrifying. If I had to look into those eyes again I don’t know what I’d do. He wanted to kill me Attahl. I mean really. It was like he was committed to murder. Sort of like he was possessed by an evil force. And it’s almost like I had put that force into him. I was the one Attahl, I was the one that tried to kill him”. Goshua’s words turned into an unsteady flow of speechless self-pity.

Attahl rushed to the bedside where Goshua put his light head on Attahl’s offering shoulder, they had compassionate moments like this often, Goshua’s character called for such times.

He was weeping now, Attahl felt the sleeve of his red robe going wet and damp at the shoulder. He had cried before, but not like this. This was real emotion, heart felt and deep.

He couldn’t help but think that he should never have sent Goshua out to kill him, him least of all. But as Duphos had said, it was last minute stuff.

He felt Goshua needed help now, if they were to leave and set off any time that wasn’t too late. And he couldn’t help thinking about Medowinter and that damned medicine.



The forest loomed ahead of the jagged rock face of a half beaten cliff. It’s edges sharp as razors. To the west of the cliff lies the Forest. The forest was not named. Either no one had bothered to name it or there simply hadn’t been enough witnesses of the dreary place to name it at all. Thus it was known commonly as The Forest.

Medowinter moved slowly and steadily. Approaching the west-side of the cliff with the honed blades resembling the bottom jaw of some skulking beast, ready to snap if one dares to tread to far!

The forest was just up ahead of him. Staring blankly towards him. Taunting him inwards.

He had never been to The Forest before.

And its blackness daunted him.

When inside, he noticed how uneven the land was. Rocks were protruding from uneven angles in the soil, as if their soul purpose was to injure. Thus Medowinter trudged cautiously through the trees.

His mind was taken by the ancient look off the greenery around him. Even the bushes had seen many lost souls enter these woods to never return to the world again. Running figures panic-stricken and crying out, asking for help and seeking refuge in a place that holds no solace. Not for anyone.

In The Forest the very air is thick and suffocating. The soil dried and powdered from moist deprivation. Rainwater blocked from entry. Leaves shrivelled and cracked. Up in the canopy the branches spread out, seeking for better sight of the people foolish enough to enter. Looking down on the daunted prey running helplessly along the ground and tripping up on the rocks staring at them through the soil.

Medowinter stopped. He thought he heard noises. Not noises of humans, but foul screams, screeches and moans of terrible pitch. They corresponded with each other as if in quarrel. Medowinter’s ears winced with the sound.

He struggled to recognise the source of the cries and again, just like when he had found the Taluntain ripped and rooted, he found himself filing through all the people he had known in his life and he could not think of anyone who could scream so.

He advanced.

Poked his head out from behind a tree.

He stepped back two feet out of shock and sheer horror.

“Goblins!”

He clasped his hand over his mouth and winced again at his own voice.

To loud! He whispered to himself. Just be quiet Medowinter you old fool!

It was too late, the noise had already come out loud and clear. Echoing off the trees of the distilled forest. And about a hundred paces away the green-skinned men were suddenly alerted, the source of the noise was not far away, they thought.

Medowinter witnessed from behind the tree that the goblins were sniffing around the ground looking for scents of any unusual presence. Large ones, the sizes of men from where he was standing, were stood upright scanning the trees and grasses, the smaller ones were darting on the ground like leap frogs. There feet serving as springs as they dashed from foot to foot.

He dare not move. He stood behind the tree yet he knew he had to run! He had to get out if the woods. Sooner all later they would find him. God knows how many there were.

But he kept his feet like stone on the ground. Knowing that if he moved at all, the dried leaves at his feet would crackle and crunch.

He plucked the courage from nowhere and shifted his body round the trunk to try and see the movement. They seemed to be keeping in the range of their own dwelling, still a good distance away. He looked closer, he caught sight of a hole in the ground, a pit. And leaping out of it like frogs came a river of goblins, the smaller ones. His eyes following them through fear. One of them caught onto a trunk. Its legs shifting for position on the dry wood. It was climbing the trees. The rest followed suit, until one after another they leapt up onto the branches. Tree after tree like maddened primates they climbed. They came pouring overhead of him in the air. And then he heard a rustling directly above him. His legs gave way, he realised that it was actually goblins launching themselves onto his back and bringing him down to his knees. Medowinter looked up. And saw a man wielding a mace overhead, he then turned left, to catch his last sight of sunshine, before it crashed down on him.