MANDALABAND
- EL OJO DE WENDOR (1977)
Voces principales -
Eric Stewart, Maddy
Prior, Graham Gouldman, Justin Hayward, Kevin Godley, Paul
Young
Voces de respaldo -
Friday Brown,
Fiona Parker, Lol Creme, David Rohl, Martin Lawrence, Kim
Turner, Ian Wilson, Steve Broomhead
David Rohl - Pianos, piano Vox,
sintetizadores, clarinete, efectos de sonido
John Lees - Guitarras
eléctricas
Steve Broomhead - Guitarra
acústica y eléctrica
Jimmy McDonnell - Guitarra
Bajo -
Les Holroyd, Pete Glennon, Noel
Redding, Alf Tramontin
Woolly Wolstenholme -
Melotrones, sintetizadores, Cornetas Moog
Kim Turner - Batería, Rototoms,
Glockenspiel, campanas tubulares, tímpanos, congas, Tam-Tam
Kim Turner - Batería, Rototoms,
Glockenspiel, Vibes, congas, castañetas, percusión
Trompetas -
Andy Wardaugh, Mark
Gilbanks
Trombones -
Andy Crompton, Mike
Carlton, Dave Gorton
Cuerdas -
Hallé Orchestra
Coro -
The Gerald Brown Singers
otros
As they came to the city's outer defences Florian saw
a strange and wondrous sight, for in a field bordering
the roadway he beheld a great herd of beautiful white
horses, the like of which he had never seen. They were
very strong of body with long, wild names and beards
and to their sides were folded powerful wings. Florian
could not believe his own eyes and as he stared in
amazement there was a call from afar. The great beasts
harkened and moved with gracious speed to the far corner
of the field where a fair maiden sat astride one of the
wondrous horses. She was clad in a gown of white and round
her neck was hung a silver horn.
Florian, transfixed by the sight that he beheld, failed to
hear Brant as he rode up to his side, having noticed that
the boy had dropped behind. He urged Florian onwards for
time was precious, assuring him he would learn of all
things in time. They rode in each others company up and
beyond the city gates.
The horses clattered up the narrow cobbled streets that
turned sharply as the way climbed to the upper levels of
the city. All around him Florian could see decay and
neglect. Few people moved in the city for it was as if he
were in some twilight world from which the colours of life
had been washed away leaving but greys and shadows. His
gaze moved to Brant for reassurance but his face was stern,
his mind bent upon the road ahead and never a glance did
he make to either side. Ahead as they turned the last bend
was a great portcullis gateway leading to the highest
level and the end of their sojourn.
The guardians of the gateway recognized the uniform of
Brant's office and the gates were open on the arrival of
the party. So it was they entered into the great courtyard
of the palace, surrounded on all sides by tall pillars.
Before the entrance to a large building the captain and
his men dismounted. Beckoning Florian to follow they
entered and with great speed crossed the marble floor that
stretched out before them.
Swiftly they moved toward the dais at the far end - the
throne stood empty. To one side sat a man of about
thirty-five
summers, with a host of courtiers about him. On seeing
Brant he arose and embraced him as one would an old friend.
And so it was that a nervous Florian met Brant's boyhood
friend Damien, Crown Prince of the Realm, son of King Aenord.
His warmth melted Florian's uneased as he greeted his guest
and they were led away into a smaller room by their Royal
host where food and wine were laid for their use.
Throughout the meal Prince Damien and Brant talked together
and it transpired that the King lay gravelly ill and thus
was unable to greet them as was the custom with guests
of such importance. They had, however, audience arranged
with the King in his private chambers as soon as the
meal was ended.
And so it came to pass, as the evening of the day drew near
that Florian was led through passages and across courtyards
up to and beyond the oaken doors that led to the Royal
Chambers. Suddenly he found himself before the great Aenord,
of whom so much had been sung, by minstrels who wandered the
woods of Midvale - King Aenord, founder of the new dynasty,
builder of the city, in whose name it had been so honoured.
The King beckoned Florian with tears in his eyes, for the
old man knew the long search had at last born fruit and the
future of his people might yet be redeemed. They talked
quietly together for some time and Florian almost felt as
though it was his own father speaking to him as in the old
days by the fireside on those long wintry nights. But soon
the court physician asked that the King should be left to
rest, as he was very weak with old age. As Florian turned to
take his leave a boney hand came from out of the shadows and
grabbed his wrist. There in front of him stood
Almar of
Nacholis, soothsayer and personal advisor to the King.
Before the bewildered boy could speak he was dragged along
passages and up staircases until the old man brought him out
onto the uppermost battlements of the palace. Without
stopping for breath Almar was off again, his grip upon
Florain's wrist all the tighter. Up they went along a great
flight of stone steps that led to an oaken door halfway up
the highest tower - still yet dwarfed by the colossus of
Aenord standing behind on the plateau. Florian was pushed
through the great door which slammed shut behind through.
And so he found himself in Almar's Tower amidst bubbling
liquids and rows of potions that filled the gloom. Until the
early hours Florian was relentlessly questioned by the old
man, for he wanted to know all about Florian in order to
find if he truly was the boy of whom he had dreamt - the
chosen one who would return the magic stone to its rightful
owners.
Florian awoke to find himself in a cheery little room but
with little recollection of how he had arrived there. He
gazed about the room, arose and walked out onto the balcony
to look upon the city. From below in the courtyard came a
call, it was Brant, off to eat a hearty breakfast, and
it did not make much to persuade Florian to join him.
A crisp morning it surely was and even the grey skies seemed
to be lightened with an expectant air. Brant had to complete
the report of his journeys to the council of elders, so
Florian asked if he could be allowed to look around the
city. The captain agreed and escorted him to the palace
gates where he left Florian to go to his meeting. The young
lad seemed to be wandering for hours through dusty unkempt
streets before he found himself at the main gates of the
city and out on the road. Suddenly, from out of the sky
descended one of the great white horses, its huge wings
causing great whirlpools in the air as it alighted gently on
the road in front of Florian. Upon the back of the noble
beast was the young maiden whom the boy had seen the
previous afternoon on his arrival. She dismounted and
approached him, her golden locks falling about her
shoulders, the silver horn at her waist.
"I am Ursula, daughter of Aenord. My brother has asked that
I bring you to the council meeting of elders so that you
might learn the history of our people and of the task that
lies ahead."
She reached forth her hand and led Florian to her steed,
nibbling at the grass by the wayside. The boy drew back when
he realised she intended him to ride on the back of such a
horse. It took some moments for Ursula to persuade the
nervous Florian that Ithylmar, the leader of the
Equestra
(as she called the white horses) would not let any harm
befall them and that he would experience a great joy, more
exhilarating than any thing that had ever happened to him
before.
Clinging for dear life to the horse's long white mane,
Florian closed his eyes as the thundering hooves took them
off down the road. Suddenly they were soaring into the air
and only the sound of the wind now echoed in his ears.
Feelings of fear and excitement filled Florian with emotion
as the great stallion climbed high into the sky and the wide
fields fell away beneath them. Soon they were crossing over
the city walls and on towards the giant statue. Florian was
almost sad to leave the back of the giant stallion as they
alighted on a small plateau in front of the colossus. Brant
and Damien came to welcome him as he dismounted and together
they entered the circle of stone seats at the foot of the
statue, which comprised the place of the council.
Florian was asked to sit amidst the elders at Brant's side as
Damien prepared to speak. He paced to and fro collecting his
thoughts and then turning to his congregation, the Crown
Prince of the Carthilians spoke of the history of the
people.
