There were noises coming from upstairs. People yelling, doors slamming, running footsteps. It seemed as if time itself had stopped in the kitchen. The people frozen in a tableau. Not hours passed, but only a heartbeat. Catharina’s spear flashed from her hand and was cut neatly in two by Cinnabar with only a flick of his glittering sword. She had already loosed the first arrow before the spear reached its target and was cut down. The arrow was avoided as Cinnabar seemed to flow like liquid as he stepped aside to avoid it. Antonin spun his sword in a whirling arc, the better to confuse the Morgoth, as he stepped forward to engage. Sparks flew as if from a blacksmith anvil as the two blades met. Strangely, it seemed to Antonin, he was dancing to a tune learned long ago. He was a skilled swordsman, but never a warrior. Yet without thinking he flowed from stance to stance. The moves flowed through him unbidden as he alternately attacked then defended in his deadly dance with Cinnabar the Morgoth. Cinnabar moved and flowed with ease, seemingly untroubled by the abilities of his adversary. The only sign that all was not going his way was his slow retreat before Antonin. His cloak had been discarded, revealing his features. He was very tall, taller even than Antonin by a head. Long arms ending in talons like hands with claws, rather than fingers.. Although his feet were in green hide boots, they were not the feet of a man. The green hide was that of a Tharsian, as was the matching vest the large Morgoth wore. He was dressed like the leader he was.
There was no chance for Catharina to intervene. The two adversaries fought at close quarters, and it was too risky to intervene for fear of weakening her friend Antonin’s attack. Cinnabar's face was reptilian, yet strangely humanoid. His skin like that of a Shee Snake, from the mountains of the Dragon Spine. His breath hissed like that of a serpent.
Catharina was poised to strike at the first opportunity, but she dared not. Antonin seemed to be someone else. Eyes almost vacant, lips pressed into a thin line. His jaw clenched in tension. He made no sound as he fought. Still Luan had not moved as the pair moved in unison around the kitchen. The ring of their clashing swords had brought people crowding to the kitchen door, only to run screaming back into the corridors as they saw the deadly battle in progress before them. The city watch would be here soon enough, drawn by the noise.
Without warning, Cinnabar leapt back from engagement and grounded his sword point. Antonin flowed into a guard stance, sword raised and pointing at the chest of the Morgoth.
Cinnabar's eyes glittered, disconcertingly two eyelids slid back and forth as he blinked.
“So, it is true.” He hissed, and licked his lips. “You are the one. The ancient blood flows deep within you young one. But you will not get the Key to the Wheel from the Tharsians. That is mine. I met your father in battle long ago. I killed him, as I will kill you now.” With that the Morgoth leapt forward to begin the attack. His hesitation nearly cost him his life. As he sprang, a dagger flashed from the hand of Luan and buried itself to the hilt in the sword arm of the Morgoth.
Luan stepped in front of Antonin and said quietly. “Face me Morgoth. Take on a warrior. Why fight boys?” And as he spoke he attacked. Cinnabar pulled the knife from his arm and dropped it on the floor as he defended himself.
“A Guard Companion.” He hissed. Surprise etched on his alien features.
“Yes.” Came a voice from the door. “My Guard Companion, and he will defend the descendant of the Kings to the death, as I will defend him.”
Luan jumped away from the engagement just in time to avoid being cut in two where he stood when the glittering shaft of light opened and the Morgoth stepped through. With a crackle it disappeared. The dust began to settle in the kitchen.
The watchers in the doorway held their breath. The Morgoth had fled, rather than face a Wind Reader and her Guard Companion. A wise decision. Those in the doorway nearest to Mei’An tried to shuffle back away from her as best they could. Antonin’s breathing steadied and he sheathed his sword.
“Thank you Luan. I fear I was weakening. I don’t remember much though. It seemed as if I was not truly myself,” Antonin shook his head as if to clear it. “But I do remember what Cinnabar said. He killed my father long ago.” Antonin looked steadily at Mei’An. “My father is alive in the village, and a farmer not a warrior.”
Mei’An took his arm. “Come into the private room Antonin. You and Catharina both. It is time to tell you what you must know. Gaul and Edina are already on their way to the village. It is time for the warriors of you village to again cross the Dragon Spine. Anna Hama and his Trader Companion are on their way to us even now.”
With the battle ended in the kitchen, the innkeeper and his cook crowded in. Serving girls and kitchen hands needed to start. Everyone was talking at once. The day was dawning, and on top of it all, the City Guard arrived in the yard behind the inn.
The captain took a look into the kitchen, and with a mug on ale quickly downed was on his way again, happy that it had been a false call. Or so the cook had said, and who was he to argue with one so generous.
The talk in the kitchen was of Malachite Kings, unknown young men and Morgoth Warriors. No less of the Wind Reader and her Guard Companion. The kitchen was a mess. It was not so large that a sword fight could take place without damage. The kitchen hands knew that they would have a hard time this day. The cook did not take kindly to an untidy kitchen, and their work would be doubly hard, both clearing up and preparing for the day's trade. Into this bustle the innkeeper called for silence. Finally he banged a huge iron cauldron with a wooden mallet.
“Silence!” He roared. All activity stopped.
“This is the Inn of The Blind Man. You saw nothing. You heard nothing.” He paused a long moment and looked into each face in turn. “You will say … Nothing.”
All who worked there knew that if they told of what they had seen, or repeated what they had heard to outsiders, the consequences for them would be dire indeed.
Still, for the young serving girls, it was very exciting indeed. Even for this city, as it stood at a cross roads. To have Wind Readers, Guard Companions, Warrior maidens all in the inn together, and now to discover that one of the Malachite Kings, or at least a descendant was also with them was something they had to talk about even if only between themselves. Everyone knew the old tales of the Malachite Kings of course. They were a part of legend. Part of a past age. Yet still part of the prophesies that told of their reappearance before the last great battle between good and evil. Those for the good holding the Great Seal, and the hordes of those bent to evil led by Tor Ba’al. The Great Seal was the key that would fuse the Wheel of Sara Sara in place, thus forever trapping Tor Ba’al in his prison.
No one referred to him by name of course. He was referred to in this district simply as Lightsbane. To even utter his true name in dreams was to invite him to turn it into a nightmare from which you never awoke.
The innkeeper, Master Tallbar, ordered.
“Bring food and ale to the private rooms for all. As soon as you can.” He stamped out of the kitchen and along the hall to the private rooms.
Walking straight in, for he never knocked on a door in his own inn he suddenly pulled up short and stood stock still. He found himself with a very sharp spear point just touching his throat.
“Have a care Tallbar.” Said Elsa, as she smiled bleakly and stepped back.
The innkeeper gulped and resolved to knock on doors, especially their doors in future.
“Er… Morning table is on its way. Bread and fruits, fowl, ale and fresh water.” He moved into the room and closed the door.
“There are things I should ask, and things I should tell.” He said.
“Please, join us.” Said Mei'An, indicating a chair.
Master Tallbar felt his throat. There was a smudge of blood on his fingers. He flicked a look at the Mare Altan warrior. He face gave nothing away. She stood as ever. On guard, ready to move in an instant. He swallowed. Perhaps he as lucky to be alive at all. These warriors had a reputation for killing first without asking a lot of questions.
Dragging a chair out from the table, he lowered his bulk onto it. He resolved to be very careful around the Mare Altan. All except Luan sat at the table, and of course Elsa, the warrior. Master Tallbar cleared his throat.
“Er… There will be serving girls here soon.” He said to no one in particular. Elsa never blinked. Serving girls or Morgoth warriors, she would be equally ready for both. Catharina and Antonin sat apart at one end of the table. Rees sat alone to one side, near to Tallbar the innkeeper. He stared at a pair of dice he rolled between his fingers, a frown creasing his forehead.
Mei’An sat across from him, and a little to one side. She was worried about Rees. Nothing showed in her face of course, but Rees was not pleased. He had missed the battle in the kitchen, and Mei’An had insisted he stay here instead of returning to the village. He needed to be involved, his frustration at being left out as he saw it was galling him. Mei’An thought she had a way to use his frustrations.
Firstly though, she had to settle the problems developing around Antonin and Catharina. Antonin in particular. He really had no idea still just how important he was. How important the whole group from the village were. The three boys were the keys, and of those, Antonin was the main key. The girls of the Mare Altan were important in the great scheme of things, but had a different role to play than the boys.
Master Tallbar had things to add of his own. There was more to this innkeeper than any but the Wind Readers knew. Mei’An rose to her feet and began to pace back and forth. Luan’s eyebrows raised slightly. The only expression on his otherwise impassive face. Mei’An did not normally pace. She must be very agitated indeed.
“Antonin,” she began. “You heard the Morgoth Cinnabar say he killed your father. He refers to a past age. Cinnabar has lived a very long time. Your father, still alive in your village, is a direct descendant of the warrior that Cinnabar killed on the battle field. That warrior was in fact a Malachite King. A leader on the field in the War of Attrition with the forces of Lightsbane. The Malachites were – are – the people sworn to uphold the forces of good in the never ending struggle that has raged across the centuries. Many millennia, longer than legend. The Malachite Kings were the champions of their people, in battle and indeed, when the forces of the Dark Lord were finally subdued, and the Dark Lord himself imprisoned in the Great Wheel far beneath Sara Sara, then the Malachites allowed themselves to rest. This was a long age ago. An immeasurable time past. So long ago now, most have forgotten those heroic struggles. The Wind Readers have not forgotten, nor The Traders, and Cinnabar the Morgoth."
Mei’An’s skirts swirled about her as she turned in her pacing. She was wringing her hands, looking for the words.
“The blood of the Malachites is strong still in the world. Strongest in the village of Xu Gui, and strongest of all in the House of Rukul." Mei’An looked directly at Antonin. “The blood of kings sings in the heart of you Antonin. This makes you the new Malachite King, returned. To lead the Last Battle. So I say, so say the prophecies.”
Antonin was on his feet, his chair pushed back. It toppled with a crash to the floor. His eyes were wide.
“No,” he exclaimed. “I am a farmer. You cannot say this of me. My life is planned, like all those of our village. My family has lived there unchanged since time began. There are no kings in our past.” He looked at Catharina. “Are there?” A faint trace of a little boy lost came into his voice. Catharina gave him a warm smile of friendship, and shrugged with a tiny lift of her shoulders. It didn’t matter to her. Antonin would be her mate, and they would be together no matter what. King or farmer her expression seemed to say, it didn’t matter to her. He would never change, of that she was sure.
Rees had stopped rolling his dice and was staring at Antonin. An unreadable expression on his face. Before he could speak, Mei’An spoke up again.
“You are not alone. Of your kind there are three. You are descended from the one true king. Rees and Gaul from the lesser houses. But important none the less, for no one goes into this battle alone.” Rees dropped the dice with a clatter.
Mei’An continued. "Now that Cinnabar has recognised you Antonin, you are in very great danger. He will most certainly try to kill you. With you gone, the cycle will be broken. There are no other descendants.” Mei’An looked at Catharina for so long, Catharina started to colour. She could feel a blush spreading across her cheeks.
Mei’An looked away. It would keep. She was sure Catharina had known her meaning. Mei’An meantime had to ensure that the pair stayed together and alive. The fate of the world rested in their hands. But what to do? They were so innocent. Really, they had no idea of the depth of their love for each other. Indeed, neither seemed to recognise it as love at all, Mei’An discovered in surprise, as she skimmed gently across their thoughts. Mei’An continued her thoughts and then looked at Luan. Another surprise to raise an eyebrow was it. Luan blinked slowly.
“You are all in great danger.” Continued Mei’An as something of an afterthought.
Antonin and Rees retrieved their chairs and sat back down.
“What of the girls?” Antonin asked Mei’An.
“Oh yes. The girls. Do you remember the old stories?” She asked in reply. “Those tales told around fires at eventide. They speak of the guardians of the King. Warriors so brave and fearless that they will take a spear to protect the head of the ruling house. Or any member of it. So compassionate that they abandon battle to flee into the wastes with only the children, should they see a King fall and the House lost. The children are saved at huge cost to those fighting the rear guard. Few survived. Many lost. Many warriors. Many children. Whole Houses wiped out. The Tharsians know no mercy, and at that time, still fought for the Dark Lord. So did the Morgoth. It was only when the combined strength of the Wind Readers was channelled into the Seal of the Creator that the Dark Lord was surprised and overcome. With him subdued the Tharsians broke away followed by the Morgoth. The battle lines were broken. The Tharsians scattered into their forests, and the Morgoth simply – vanished. Slowly the warriors of the Mare Altan and Asha Altan came to settle on the Star Field Plain. Those the warriors yet guarded were plain people who had fled with them. Children of the older families. Only one group from the major houses survived. The children of that group were the survivors of the King, and the houses of the Malachites.”
Mei’An paused. The serving girls had entered quietly meantime, and now stood with mouths agape. They were hearing a tale straight out of the prophesies and they knew it to be the truth for a Wind Reader was telling it. Mei’An continued. “That group settled by a river and built a stone fortress. That fortress was built atop the Great Seal. Only by taking the fortress could any attacker hope to retrieve the seal. Even then they would have to remove the fortress stone by stone. The Great Seal was never seen again. The fortress was never taken. In time, people forgot. Facts became legends, legends became stories. The stories became children’s fables. Eventually the stones of the castle fortress were removed to build farm houses. To build inns. To build sept houses. Eventually, after an age of ages, all trace of the fortress was gone. The Seal of the Creator long forgotten. The purpose of the warriors long blurred into new duties. The Great Seal is there still, guarded by two who have been given eternal life to guard it. Such is their duty that they live as long as the Seal is at risk. You know the village. You know the people. Riadia and Jardine. The village is Xu Gui. The guards are still the Mare Altan and the Asha Altan. The only others who remember, are the Traders and the Wind Readers.” Mei’An paused to sip a glass of water. “Long has been our quest. The Traders were those who drove the wagons carrying supplies into the wasteland. It was they who kept the villages supplied as time rolled on. They came out of distant lands, and through high mountain passes. They were always alone, and as they posed no threat, they were rarely troubled. The Wind Readers began the search for the village of the Kings just as the Traders began the search for the Great Seal.”
Mei’An drew her breath and sipped her water. No one in the room moved. Hardly daring to breathe.
“Only recently could we, the Wind Readers, detect a glow permeating our plane. This was known to us, as the stories spoke of such a feeling, a glow as it were, being present when the Great Seal, and Malachite Kings were together in the same room. The Inn of Daga Domain. He found the Seal, and brought it into the presence of the village where all the descendants gather on festival days. It was thus that I alone took the Great North Road in search of the place where the resonance of the Seal was strongest. It was, it seemed to be, the fulfilling of part of the prophesies. It was then that Dagar Domain handed the Seal of the Creator to The Trader. They were its original guardians. They were bound to it all those ages ago. I know this. It happened after we left the village. The Last battle is coming. The Morgoth now know it. You.,” Mei’An pointed to Antonin. “Were seen and recognised. Once again the Mare Altan must take up their place guarding the King. The new King. Their honour and his depend on it. His life, the life of everyone in the world.”
Mei’An seemed to grow in size. Her power filled the room. Her voice came like a wind before a storm.
“If the Mare Altan fail in their duty, then all is lost. You will guard the King – only he knows how to place the key, and fuse it with the Great Seal. Be prepared at any moment.”
Her voice echoed around the room like sound in a vast cavern. One of the serving girls feinted. Another was on her knees in fear, a jug of ale pouring onto the floor unnoticed. Two stood clasping each other, eyes wide in terror, their trays of food forgotten on the sideboard.
Mei’An sat. Hands clasped together on the table in front of her. She was satisfied that she had impressed the gravity of the situation upon all present.
“… and now, unseen in the prophesies. The Tharsians have taken the Key. Not the Morgoth as was foretold.”
There was utter silence. Mei’An said quietly.
“So you see Antonin, truly you are the only descendant. Your father is past doing battle and he knows it. So do you. I believe you feel it yourself. Why else would a farmer be as skilled as you are in the arts of sword and staff? You Catharina, are his friend. You are also much more.”
Mei’An’s arched eyebrow brought a flush to her cheeks again, but Mei’An continued. “You are the guardian of his life and your honour is staked on it. It has always been so. Elsa also, a guardian of the lesser houses. To you both now will rally the other Mare Altan. Riadia and Jardine do not come with them over the Dragon Spine. The Asher Altan come to take up station under Rees. The Guardians will return the Key, the honour guards will return the King.” She hesitated. “It is foretold. Let the Light guide our steps.”
Rees sat looking from one to the other, hands flat on the table with his jaw clenched. His lips drawn into a thin line, his eyes narrow slits. He tried to take in all that he had heard. A village boy. A blacksmiths son. Descended from a noble house. To lead men into battle. A battle he still thought of as an old bed time story, if he hadn’t seen recent events with his own eyes.
Elsa and Catharina exchange proud smiles. This is what they had trained for. This was adventure beyond their wildest dreams. Their names would be immortal. Riadia and Jardine were immortals, tied to the Great Seal forever it seemed. What honour to be a part of their house. Catharina almost danced on the spot with joy. Elsa, in between glancing around looking for signs of trouble, grasped her friend by the forearm and gently shook her friend.
“Catharina, what a task.” Suddenly she whirled to face the spot where she had just been standing. “Danger!” She yelled. She had seen something reflected in the eyes of her friend.
In a space shorter than a heart beat Luan had his sword out. Elsa and Catharina both poised with short killing spears. Rees and Antonin on their feet wildly looking about.
Tallbar tried to struggle to his feet out of his chair. The serving girls screamed and fled. It was too much.
The air in the corner of the room was glittering like the night air on a misty mid-winters night. Ice crystals floated like motes in the air. Everyone stood poised. What was it? The faint outline of a door began to take shape in the glittering haze. It slowly resolved into an archway. The view through this archway began to clear and take form. Low hills, a road winding away into the distance. Strange multi tiered buildings stood on some of the hill tops.
“Those are the temples of Hua Guo.” Whispered Mei’An, The whole thing blinked out like a candle flame being snuffed. Gone in an instant.
“Antonin,” said Mei’An. “I fear that you are the one who summoned that doorway. I spoke once of a power that the ancients had. The power to travel through portals summoned at will. It was the power only of the Kings. These are the travelling portals that we have spoken of. Not the strange machines that lay buried beneath our feet. What were you thinking of that brought this portal into being?”
“I was wishing with all my heart that I was somewhere far away.” Replied Antonin with downcast eyes.
“Well, I wish you would warn us next time, you woolly headed sheep herder!” Yelled Catharina, whacking Antonin across the shoulders with the haft of her spear. Elsa relaxed and laughed aloud at her own discomfort.
Tallbar the innkeeper cleared his throat. He felt very much out of place. He had come to tell the group some news he thought they should know, and ended up hearing things he thought he would rather not know.
“Should we not take morning meal?” He asked quietly, looking around. He took a small bell from his pocket and shook it. The tinkling brought the serving girls hurrying back in to clean up and bring fresh ale and tea. The innkeeper drew out his pipe and with a lot of sucking and puffing began to emit huge clouds of smoke.
Luan didn’t seem to relax a single muscle. He stood to one side, sword drawn, eyes flittering around the room taking everything in. Cinnabar would not escape a second time. Gradually Luan relaxed and sheathed his sword. The clouds of smoke being generated by the innkeeper would surely blanket the room before too long.
Rees set all in motion by helping himself to a large portion of the breads and cheeses now on the table. His huge mug of ale brimmed over and he set to eating with enthusiasm. It was he who remembered the innkeeper had a tale to tell.
“Master Tallbar,” he said between sips of ale. “You had something to tell us?”
“Well, yes,” replied the innkeeper. “But nothing so important I fear as what I have just heard.” He paused. “I would first ask the Wind Reader a question?” He looked at Mei’An with a questioning glance. She nodded slightly.
“These youth be the ones to save the Seal?” He paused. Mei’An nodded again. He continued. "To save the world by leading the forces of the Light against Lightsbane himself?” Again Mei’An nodded assent. “And this is truly the Malachite King come again?” The innkeeper indicate Antonin.
Antonin’s eyes were wide. He was on his feet. “No. I am not this king you speak of. I have no powers. I am a simple farmer from a small village. I will not be dragged into this mess. You speak of ages long past. You speak calmly of fables and stories and of ages long past that we have all heard of since the cradle, as though they were truth. Had I these strange powers to travel through portals that you speak of, why only now can I supposedly do this thing? I will help if needed, but I am not this king you speak of, returned from a grave surely sealed a thousand years ago.” Antonin paused, breathing deeply. He looked at Catharina with pleading in his eyes. “Catharina, I am not this king. Tell them you know me.”
Catharina could say nothing, but the look of compassion in her face told of her pain for her friend. She could not doubt the word of a Wind Reader. With downcast eyes for a second, she spread her hands by her side. What could she say?
“You are drawn into the web that controls all things Antonin,” said Mei’An. “The threads tighten around you and all things gravitate to you like a weight placed in the centre of a stretched sheet. To fight against this now is to give more time to the Dark Lord.”
Antonin stared at Mei’An, his mouth working as he tried to find words. “If I am truly the King of the Malachites now and have such powers, why can I not use it to create a portal now?” He was growing increasingly angry. His whole world was being changed and he felt he was losing control. As he shouted the words he flung out his arm, pointing to the corner where the shimmering portal had previously appeared. With the hiss of steam escaping from a kettle, a glittering arch winked into place in the room corner. It appeared as solid as a rock this time, yet where it would touch the existing walls and floor, seemed to go right through them. Antonin’s jaw hung open. A tiny squeak escaped him. His finger still pointed at the apparition. No one moved. Also clearly visible, and looking directly at the gathered people in the room was a man leading a horse along a dusty road that seemed to lead directly into the portal. He stared in surprise for a moment then turned and fled back along the road as fast as he could run. He left the horse standing, and it started to graze on the grassy verge. The man could still be seen getting smaller as he fled along the road into the distance.
The same icy motes twinkled in the air around the portal. Antonin lowered his arm. The portal stayed. The candles in the room flickered as a breeze stirred through the portal. The horse could be heard chewing the grass. Bees could be heard in the roadside flowers.
“Mei’An,” whispered Elsa. “Where is this place?”
“Ask Antonin.” She replied firmly.
“I.. I don’t know. I only thought to point to the portal leading to a palace. If indeed I was the Malachite King, then I would know how to reach my own palace. That’s what I thought.”
“You only lack control of this skill Antonin. Nothing more.”
Mei’An was surprised at the power that Antonin had used. She had felt it flow from him. The archway he had created was still visible and appeared to be as solid as stone. Which it seemed to be made of. The others in the room were relaxing now, looking through the archway to see what this other strange land might hold. The serving girls were giving it a wide berth as they brought the meals in. They knew better than to say anything. This inn was the seat of many strange events, and the girls knew their place, even though surprises were tinged with fear.
“Perhaps,” said Luan. “You had best remove this portal. There is no point in frightening more of the peasants out of their wits.”
Antonin looked at the portal, and back at Luan. “I have no idea how I put it there. Even less idea of how to remove it!” He cried. The portal stood firm, glittering in the corner of the room.
Antonin waved his arms at it. “Go!” He shouted. It stayed.
Elsa walked over to the portal entrance, standing just at its edge where it crossed the floor. She reached out with a spear and waved it about through the gateway. Nothing stirred but the icy motes in the air. She whistled to attract the horse. It looked up for a moment then went back to eating the grass. It seemed to be content to wait for its master who had long since disappeared over the rolling hills in the distance.
“Antonin, do not try to close this gateway just yet.” She said over her shoulder. Without waiting she stepped through. The motes swirled around her and she could feel her skin prickle as she stepped across the threshold. She stood on the dusty road. The air was warm, the sun high overhead. It appeared to be spring time where ever it was that she stood. She whirled about. Only now thinking to make sure the portal was equally visible on her side. She let out a sigh when she saw it was. It seemed to sit squarely on the road. As if it had been built there by hand. Except that instead of the road continuing through it, she could clearly see the others gathered in the room of the inn. It all seemed very strange. Elsa giggled at the thought of what must have gone through the mind of the man who had fled over the hills, leaving a fine horse untended. She looked about. They were alone. Her and the horse. There were no trees that she could see, and the road continued it path on the other side of where the portal stood. She could make out a cross roads in the distance.
“I shall return in a moment.” Elsa said to those in the inn. She stuck an arrow in the ground where she stood, then set out at a trot toward the cross road. Those in the inn lost sight of her as she passed around the portal.
In her experience all such crossroads were marked with sign posts. Perhaps this one was also. It might indicate where she was. It took only a few minutes to reach the cross roads. Sure enough, there were markers on each road. The symbols were unknown to Elsa, but drawing a charcoal stick from her belt pouch she copied the symbols onto her arm. Perhaps Mei’An would know. She dashed back toward the portal. From this other side, it was only a hazy shimmer across the road. Circling around it where the arrow was stuck in the ground brought the others in the inn back into view. Pulling up her arrow she stepped back into the room. As her feet touched the floor proper, the portal winked out. “Ahh!” Yelled Elsa. It felt like the portal had almost closed with her still in it. “Careful my Lord.” She quipped as she quickly stepped forward, her hands going involuntarily toward her bottom.
“But… I did nothing.” Said Antonin with a worried look on his face.
Master Tallbar the innkeeper cleared his throat again and puffed mightily at his pipe. Clouds of smoke billowed around him.
“It do be time I told you of what I know of these things. I have kept this thing that was traded to me many years ago. It do be the crown of the King of the Malachites.” He rummaged in the huge pocket of his apron and drew out a fine gold headband. No thicker than a child’s finger, it was of the finest workmanship. A fine script flowed around its circumference, like fine lace.
There were many drawings and painting of the ancient heroes of legend, and all those of the Malachite King showed him wearing just such a golden band on his head, sitting smoothly on his forehead as though moulded.
Antonin looked at the golden band. He could feel a tingling sensation that seemed to penetrate his very bones. Without thinking – he reached his fingers out and took the golden circlet. It fit perfectly to his head as though it had been there forever. The room began to fill with a bright light that seemed to be formed of a golden haze. It flashed into momentary brilliance then was gone. Antonin was clutching the fireplace trying to keep his feet. The band pulsed through his system like a living thing. He could feel the knowledge of the ages coursing into his memory. Just as he thought he could take no more, it stopped.
Mei’An had her fingers on his temples, and was making a low crooning sound.
“Slowly my king,” she whispered. “You must go slowly.”
Antonin rested his head on the fireplace arch, getting his breath back. Mei’An stepped back away from him and faced the others.
“The Malachite King has returned.” Was all she said. She looked at each person in the room in turn. The two girls, Catharina and Elsa were the first to move. They knelt before Antonin, right knee bent, left hand with knuckles on the floor.
“Our honour is to serve our king.” They spoke together. “The king of light, leader against the marshalled hosts of the Evil One.”
Antonin whirled around, pain in his eyes.
“No – no – no – get up, please. You are my friends, no my servants. Do not kneel to me. I am a farmer before I am anything else.” He fingered the golden band on his head. He could not deny its existence. It whispered to him. ‘You are the king returned though, you wool head, and you know it.’
He flung himself toward the corner where the portal had stood. There was a shower of ice into the room, and a swirl of snow as the portal opened and closed again almost immediately. Antonin was gone.
The snow and ice began to melt into puddles almost immediately. Everyone was stunned. Luan, normally expressionless was looking at Mei’An with raised eyebrows and the question half formed on his lips.
“Be careful what you think and say Companion.” She said.
“The boy had to know. How could I know he would fling himself into another world before he had proper control?”
Luan merely grunted. For him that was being talkative, and it spoke volumes. Catharina and Elsa were standing with guilty looks on their faces. Both were sure that their actions in kneeling to their king had precipitated his flight. Rees still sat at the table, rolling his dice in his fingers. His thoughts he kept to himself, but king or no, Antonin was his friend and lifelong companion first. So long as all this king stuff didn’t give him a swollen head. He might well be leading the coming battle, but he was still young and would need his friends.
Tallbar was rubbing his hands on his apron.
“My lady,” he stammered. “Had I known, I would have asked your advice quietly. The young man – er… the King! Took me by surprise.” He puffed noisily on his pipe.
“I don’t think he read the inscription either.” He added.
“The inscription?” Echoed Mei’An. “What inscription?” Worry in her voice.
“The Oath of the Malachite Kings, my lady.” Tallbar replied, puffing on his pipe. “Keeper of the dragon Throne. On one half the old scripts, the other the Kings Oath in plain script. ‘The wearer is King and leads unto death’. The first I do know not my lady. I am not versed in the old script. The second is according to legend. The golden circlet will kill any but the true blood who try to wear it. He that do wear it without pain, on whose head it do fit, he do be king in truth, and so must wear the crown, and serve the Light unto the very day of his death. If the young man would not be king, he should not have placed the circlet on his head. It is now too late. The circle fits, and cannot be removed.”
“Then we can only wait, and hope that he returns to us, his friends.” Said Mei’An quietly.
Mei’An looked at Elsa. “Elsa, what did you discover at the crossroads of the first portal?”
“Just this Mei’An,” replied Elsa. “I cannot read it, but one of the stones was marked thus with this script.” Elsa held out her arm for Mei’An to read the symbols she had marked with charcoal onto her inner arm.
Mei’An pondered the script. They were names, undoubtedly.
“I don’t know any of these places. This script is of another land, far across the Sea of Storms. The country of Allangorn. The cities, or towns marked here I know not.” Mei’An pondered the script. “I wonder what connection our new king has with this place that he could so easily open a portal there?” Too many questions and not enough answers Mei’An thought. She began to pace slowly back and forth. Luan stood with his back to the door, face expressionless, his eyes constantly flicking around the room. Elsa and Catharina had taken up a position of guard just in front of the area where the strange portal had last appeared. They would not be caught napping again. The shame of her slowness as she saw it still brought a red flush to Catharina’s cheeks. Should she catch up with Antonin again he would not disappear again so easily. She would be right there beside him. Elsa was no less determined. Both young warriors smarted at being caught flat footed and unawares like village girls, instead of the highly trained warriors that they were.
Rees still sat, rolling his dice between his fingers, lost in thought. He looked up.
“We can’t just sit here can we? What if Antonin can’t find his way back?” Rees looked from face to face.
Tallbar eased himself from the room. He had an inn to attend to. As important as these events were, there were people relying on him. A rapidly filling common room meant the day's trading was starting. Events would flow around him now. He knew that his old inn was linked to the web where the strands resonated to these new events.
Rees sat in his chair, rolling his dice. What he hadn’t told anyone yet – hadn’t dared think about it himself really, was that he thought he knew how Antonin had opened the portal. He was not entirely sure though. It now worried him that he could know such a thing at all. Was he linked in some way to all this talk of ancient kings? There was no doubt that Mei’An had indicated that he and Gaul were both linked, but she had not given any detail. Rees glanced up to find Mei’An no longer pacing, but stopped in mid step looking at him. Her unblinking look, dark eyes seeming to search into his very soul, began to make him nervous. He could almost feel her reading his thoughts. With some determination he concentrated on his dice. He had noticed that of the many throws he had made while sitting thinking, the same numbers always came up. He knew the dice were good, he had made them himself. Now this could be useful. The appeal to his adventurous nature began to form. ‘This.’ He thought to himself, ‘This might be useful in the common room.’ Finally Mei'An blinked and resumed her slow pacing. Rees rose from his chair and without a word left the room and headed for the common room. Whatever was decided in that room, he knew he would have no say in it. Besides, there was nothing he could do. He was not going after the Key to the Wheel alone. The two girls watched Rees leave. Time itself seemed to be standing still. The puddles left by the melting snow now only dark stains on the wooden floor.