The Dark Tower

Chapter 1 - Ringing the Changes

‘Katy? Katy! How the hell did this happen?’

‘Beth! I don’t know!’

By wriggling against my bonds, I could turn just enough to see her. She was tied to a post identical to mine, faggots of twigs being piled up against the base by what I thought were trolls, but could have been, well, anything.

‘What are we going to do?’

‘I don’t know!’

‘Why aren’t Merlin and Mordred back?’

‘I don’t know!’

But there wasn’t time to ask any more questions even if the answer was always the same, as a shadowy figure was walking towards us in a long dark robe, his head covered with a hood. He waved his arms and the trolls stopped piling flammable wood around us, which was good, but I suspected this change of mood might only be temporary. The figure stood in front of us. From the darkness of the hood, all I could see was one huge blue glowing eye. I liked eyes of all colours, I could even tolerate bloodshot . . . yes, I liked eyes of all colours . . . except glowing. And in the singular.

Long bony fingers started to push the hood back, and I didn’t think I was going to like what was revealed. I wasn’t wrong. The glowing eye was set in the centre of a forehead belonging to gaunt pale face, the hairless head large in comparison with the rest of the body clothed in a dirty robe. But my first thoughts weren’t about his sartorial elegance, more about the fact that he appeared to be responsible for Katy and I being tied to what looked like were about to become our funeral pyres.

He studied us both. ‘So, you are the witches.’

‘Witches?’ I said. ‘Oh no. We’re not witches, we’re just . . . women.’

‘So you deny you have healing powers?’

He kind of had me there. Not through any fault of my own, they’d just appeared when I’d arrived at The Crossed Swords Inn. ‘Who’s asking?’

‘My name is Sorvad.’ I looked across at Katy and she shook her head. I looked back and waited. He seemed a bit annoyed that his name hadn’t struck fear and awe into us. ‘I said, “My name is Sorvad”.’

‘Sorry, but it doesn’t mean anything to me. To us. Who exactly are you?’

He roared loudly and the trolls trembled and cowered from his voice. I would have myself if I hadn’t been tied quite so firmly to a stake.

‘Why has nobody heard of me?’ he bellowed. ‘I am Sauron’s brother!’

‘Oh I’ve heard of him!’ I said. I would have clapped if I’d been able to move my arms. ‘Big glowy eye and all that.’

‘That was MY idea. Look! Look!’ And he pointed at his own face. He definitely had one very glowy eye. ‘He stole that and now no one ever thinks of me, do they? Do they?’ he said, his voice rising to a crescendo.

He appeared to be waiting for an answer. ‘Er no, no they don’t. Sorry. But I’m not quite seeing what this actually has to do with us.’

‘Because you are witches. If I kill you, then the whole of the Shire and Camelot will know who I am.’

‘Actually, I don’t think they will. We’re not witches, so all you’ll do is upset a few people, annoy a few more and, compared with what your brother has planned-’

‘What does he have planned, witch?’

‘My name is Beth. I am not a witch. And I suggest you ask your brother about his plans.’ I didn’t mean to get snappy, but my arms were beginning to ache and it wasn’t very comfortable standing here while I had to placate somebody’s ego. Somebody who had obviously had problems of a fraternal nature.