“Keeper Q’yer and Father Joshua, thank you for coming so quickly. We have much to discuss,” said Lord Serant, as he began to fill them in on the words of the three kings of the South.
After a long period of silence and very careful thought, Keeper Q’yer replied, “I really don’t see the harm in it.” Lord Serant and Calyin fixed him with a puzzled stare, but let him continue without interruption. “Really. They want a separate meeting with the council to discuss your right to maintain control. We’ll give it to them, but on our terms. We will work it into the speeches we had planned for tomorrow. In fact, we will begin on that very topic. We will turn the tide in our favor.”
“And with a ruling in front of all members and the council to support us, they can do nothing. Yes, I like your thinking, keeper.”
A devilish smile also passed Father Joshua’s lips, “Yes, we shall confront them with it before they expect. Our words will be heard first. I, too, approve of it.”
The door to the audience hall burst open. Lord Serant was the first to move from the table. In a skillful lunge from his seat as he drew his weapon, he was now only a few feet from the intruder. It took him a moment to relax his sword arm, after he realized it was only Captain Brodst. “Lord Serant, King William is minutes from arriving at the postern gates. Chancellor Van’te of South Province and his aides are just a half hour’s ride behind King William’s delegation.”
“Good. Any word or signs of those from the free cities?”
“No, but if I know Geoffrey of Solntse, he will be late in coming; the governors of Mir and Veter will wait to meet him near the crossroads to the south.”
“Yes, that would be like him, wouldn’t it?”
After Lord Serant personally greeted King William and Chancellor Van’te, he returned to the audience chamber. Once all plans were set, they retired for the evening. Captain Brodst wasn’t tired in the least; he went to check on Pyetr’s progress. Only then was he satisfied enough to be able to sleep, but something still burned in the back of his mind. He knew something wasn’t right, but he couldn’t touch upon it.
Early the following morning, a courier brought word to Lord Serant that Lord Fantyu of High Province had arrived in the coastal city of Taber on the eastern sea and would regretfully be a day late in arriving to Imtal. “Did Lord Fantyu explain why he was to be late?” demanded Lord Serant.
“Yes, my lord. He told me to tell you, begging your pardon of course, and I quote, ‘Tell his lordship if he questions my allegiance by the paltry offense of arriving slightly late that first of all we were delayed by rough seas and bad weather; we rowed our war galleys to a double beat. Secondly, the distance from High Province to Imtal normally takes well over two weeks in fair conditions, and he should be thankful we are here already. Thirdly, I must take into consideration my warships, which are of the kingdom’s own fleet. Under no circumstances will I risk my fleet entering the forsakenly shallow waters of his blessed river!’ Begging your pardon, of course, your lordship,” spoke the courier swiftly.
Lord Serant had to force back a smile; the youngster had imitated Lord Fantyu to perfection. He had even imitated the uncanny nature with which the lord accented his every word with bodily gestures. Lord Serant dismissed the youth, and returned to his morning duties.
Throughout the day, delegates arrived; by noon the High Council was in full count, as was the Council of Keepers and ten representatives from each of the priesthoods. Only the governors of the free cities were unaccounted for. Lord Serant and Princess Calyin were growing nervous. They had fully counted on the heavy support of the governors and Lord Fantyu to seal their approval.
Finally, they tactfully decided to begin the initial ceremonies as planned but to hold off an open meeting until the following afternoon. King Jarom of Vostok was clearly puzzled over Lord Serant’s game of intrigue. He and his aides left the ceremony as soon as it was timely. The other kings and their aides were soon to follow his departure.
Lord Serant still didn’t approve of the number of bodyguards they retained. In another situation, he would have spoken his opinion; for now, the balance was too delicate to attempt to upset it. All proceeded well for the moment; he hoped it would remain smooth.
He spent the remainder of the day in his study with Calyin, trying to pass the day calmly. He left orders that he was not to be disturbed under any circumstances. Chancellor Volnej assured Lord Serant that he would take care of their guests’ every wish. Lord Serant was sure the chancellor would. With Pyetr’s men stationed in the key positions throughout the palace, Lord Serant was confident the chancellor would be well watched.
At the moment, however, Lord Serant was not pleased. Sister Midori and Sister Catrin interrupted his and Calyin’s solitude. He was busy staring out a window lost to dreams of past and future, while Calyin and the two priestesses were engaged in heavy conversation; the topic of their words was beyond him. His tensions cleared when Captain Brodst informed him that Geoffrey and the other governors of the free cities had finally arrived and eagerly awaited an audience with him.
He seized the opportunity to leave the woman’s talk and go greet the governors. He quickly traversed the distance to his private audience chamber. “Geoffrey of Solntse! Well, it is about time, you old wood troll!” shouted Lord Serant embracing his old friend.
Seeing Geoffrey again brought back memories from his youth when the two had first met. Lord Serant had been a cocky young lord and Geoffrey a young but experienced swordsman first class. Lord Serant had challenged Geoffrey to a contest of steel over a simple remark. In minutes Geoffrey had won the duel, leaving a fuming lord. The two had later become good friends.
“I had to make a slight delay, but I overcame the problem.”
“What, a stray wildcat? Or a female?”
“Well actually a little of both.”
“I knew it!”
“Can we talk freely?” asked Geoffrey looking to Captain Brodst.
“Yes, I would trust Captain Brodst with my life.”
“We met a friend of yours on the way here. You know my son Nijal, yes?”
“Of course I do.”
“He has left the free city to, ahh, um, travel. I ran into him and his companions near the southern crossroads. He told me to tell you, ‘The child is safe’. He said you would know what he meant.”
“Adrina? Did you see her?”
“Princess Adrina? I should have known! Why, that little rogue!”
“Captain Brodst, send a message to the garrison nearest to the crossroads. I want Adrina found, and I want her back at the palace! Does he know what has happened? Who was he traveling with?”
“Calm yourself. I know she is safe. Nijal is with her. He would not allow anyone to harm her.”
“I know he wouldn’t, but in the name of the Father, why haven’t they brought her back to the palace?”
“I should not tell you this as I have sworn not to, but if you need assurance this will give it to you. The band that he travels with is quite unique. They arrived in Solntse over two passings of the moon ago. The leader is one of the great ones called ‘Noman’.”
“Are you mad, Geoffrey?”
“My friend, know that I simply speak the truth and accept it. I would never lie to you. I did not know it was Adrina he spoke of, but again I say she is in capable hands that do no mean her harm.”
“I am sorry, Geoffrey. I hope in time I will understand; Adrina’s rightful place is here. We will find her!”
Afternoon disappeared into evening and evening ended in morning, which once again became afternoon, although it was very early afternoon, being just past noon. Lord Serant’s thoughts drifted from past to present. He remembered how he had stood on the balcony watching the morning sun grow with the birth of dawn. He watched as the old hall began to fill; tension was visible in the air, as was an intermixing of foreboding and relief.
He recalled with fondness the first time he had come to court Calyin. He had fallen in love with her simple beauty and warmth, which time could never taint, only perfect. His eyes fell to where she was seated beside him. She saw his smile and grasped his hand, holding it reassuringly tight.
He watched as the final guests were seated and waited for Chancellor Volnej’s queue to enter. Together they stood; and regally, Calyin placed her arm in Lord Serant’s. Lord Serant took a last minute look at the guests and then closed the antechamber’s viewing port.
They entered the great hall through the antechamber’s small, seemingly minuscule door when compared to the immensity of the old hall, which had stood idle during Andrew’s time. It had only been used by the Alder, on occasion for which the chamber had been constructed. A similar hall stood in the newer section of the palace, newer being a misnomer since both sections were quite aged, but one indeed had been constructed more recently than the other. This chamber, although it had not the rich design of the other, had, nonetheless, been chosen. A servant behind them drew a tapestry that depicted the sun rising over the far mountains, an omen of good fortune, across the small door as they walked forth.
Calyin’s eyes wandered the hall’s vast span, which comprised almost entirely the eastern wing of the old palace. They walked past the long, oaken tables behind each of which sat one of the kings of the South amidst their aides, chancellors, and even their bodyguards, with which, even under these most serene and secure conditions, they would not part. Her eyes rose to the high-mounted pews where the High Council sat, only consuming a minute portion of them. In times of old before even the High Council, the seats had been filled with representatives from each city, village, and burrow across the kingdom and all its holdings, but this again had only occurred once, for afterwards there was no need as before.
The great double doors opened wide as the heralds slowly approached. Those gathered rose and remained standing until Princess Calyin and Lord Serant were seated at the foremost position, which took quite some time, as the walk was a long one, especially at a stately pace. The doors were closed as the heralds departed and sealed in accordance with the ancient ordinance. The doors would not reopen until all differences were justly settled and the alliance was secure.
“Herald and Welcome! The few gathered into this great hall represent the trinity that maintains the alliance of peace and prosperity,” began Calyin, raising her voice strongly at first to insure that all could hear her voice, but the hall had a wonderful resonance which took her quite by surprise, as her voice carried to even the farthest reaches of the hall at a level that caused some to wince. She continued in a softer, somewhat subdued tone, “In these days of troubled times, it has become commonplace to see a keeper walk the halls of the palace often, forcing us to look back to other days and other times. Now is the time to solve all our disputes. The past is behind us; we have only our future to preserve. There are those that question my right to rule beside my beloved husband in Prince Valam’s absence. I hold no reservations; I only wish the kingdom to prosper, so let us begin this session by taking an earnest toll. The majority of you know me personally and know my soul. For those few of you who do not, I understand and welcome your caution in accepting me. Andrew was my father. Knowing him the way I did, I know he would have agreed that I am overly qualified for this honored position. I always remain true to my word, so if you see fit in your hearts to deny me the opportunity to serve my kingdom, then so be it. I will return to High Province without protest. Are there any here who would like to speak before we begin the count?”
King Jarom was quick to his feet; his face showed anger as he spoke. “You are a fool, Lord Serant, if you think you can get by with your trickery! We can see clearly through your paltry words and mocking ways! Let it be known that it was I who questioned Lord Serant’s position, and also that I requested a private board before the High Council to discuss this subject!”
Lord Serant shot back, “I think all gathered know of your treachery in the south.”
“As I’ve explained to you previously, Lord Serant, the matter in the south was over long disputed lands.”
“The disputed lands are further south.”
“The disputed lands include all of South Province.”
Lord Serant swept his gaze around the hall. “They most certainly do not and the members of the alliance know this. And now you use the pretense of the alliance to bring an army into the heart of Great Kingdom.”
King Jarom looked about the hall, indignant. “You wound me with your words. I demand satisfaction—my champion against yours or you against me. Your choice.”
The High Council was charged with managing the proceedings and the chancellors Volnej, Van’te and de Vit stood. Chancellor Van’te spoke, “King Jarom, the High Council is here, and we are listening. Choose your words with wisdom. Do not let them be fueled by arrogance!”
“I am sorry for my outburst, chancellor. If Lord Serant wishes the contest to open, then so be it. I just wish to say to you, those who are gathered here today, that it is our belief that the alliance would be better served if one of higher office held the esteemed position in question. Of those here the only kings are myself, King Peter of Zapad, King Alexas of Yug, and King William of Sever. Of these four, I am the senior and undisputed leader. In the past, my wisdom has been recorded numerous times and is widely respected. I wish it to be known that I would like to honor this position with my wisdom until the day of Prince Valam’s return and he is crowned king!”
Lord Serant searched the eyes of the crowd, almost pleading for someone to say something on his behalf. He zeroed keenly in on King William and stared sharply at him. He was sure William did not support Jarom. He wondered what Jarom had on William to still his tongue.
It was Lord Fantyu who spoke out next. He stood and raised his hands high into the air. “Father, grant us mortal spirits the wisdom of truth,” Fantyu intoned in his way of exaggerated gesture. “Why cannot the fool see his prosperity? Is a fool who thinks he is wise, a wise man? Or is the fool who knows he is a fool, the wise man? I have known and respected Lord Serant for a long time. He is an honest man. He speaks no lies, only truth. When a serpent has entered your house and he speaks falsity and lies, do you heed his words?”
“My dear Lord Fantyu. I speak no falsities. My words ring of truth! I ask all of you earnestly, have I ever not held to my word? Have I ever been false?”
Midori spoke, “An aura of darkness enshrouds you, Jarom! You cannot hide the truth from the Mother!”
“Priestess,” said Talem, first of the Dark Flame. “I see no such aura around King Jarom. He is a just man who speaks truth.”
“Do you speak these words because of his support to your order? Have the priests of the Dark Flame wandered so far from home that they have forgotten truth?”
Father Joshua said, “Quarrelling amongst ourselves will bring us nowhere. As the Great-Father walks within me this day, through the intensity of his presence, I can know the import of this day! Just as the first marked a new period, so will this day. Do we want this day to be remembered as was the first? Or do we want to prove we have learned and grown beyond our past? Lord Serant has my bidding!”
Lord Serant waited through the long silence that followed, hoping both that someone would say something to break the sudden lull, and that it would remain. No one offered any further comment. Princess Calyin edged her hand into his and held it reassuringly tight.
“Well spoken, Father Joshua. Shall the count begin? Are there any who would wish to speak further?” strongly asked Lord Serant. When the silence held, Chancellor Volnej stood and unraveled a long parchment and began to read from it.
“Hence came the alliance of our kingdoms, whence disappeared the strife of the times long since passed. Troubled times have returned. To maintain the stability necessary for our peace and prosperity, a wise and just leader is needed. His Lordship Serant of the West has pledged to us that he will honor this position to the utmost of his ability until our crowned prince has returned to us from afar. Let us begin!”
All attention turned to the rear of the hall, where the toll would start. Two of the primary groups were the priests of the Dark Flame and the keepers. As chief representative of the priesthood, Talem calmly rose from his seat and shook his head a resonate no, then returned to his seat, without the utterance of any spoken word. Keeper Q’yer, who assumed the position as head of the keepers, stood and regarded Lord Serant and Calyin with an apologetic glance. He then turned and fixed several of his fellow keepers with gleaming frigid intent. Slowly he lowered his eyes in shame and voiced, “No.” Keeper Q’yer slumped back into his chair. He understood why the keepers must stand united on their votes; still he yearned to speak his mind and say “yes,” but it was already beyond that.
Lord Serant’s face went livid as he clinched his fists tightly. He turned a scowl towards King Jarom, who returned a leering smile. Calyin interlaced her hand in Serant’s and held it tighter than before.
Father Joshua and Sister Midori each in turn affirmed a jubilant yes, and thus all eyes turned to the tiers on the eastern and western sides of the hall. In a wave, the members of the councils, representatives of all the peoples of the alliance, voiced their individual decisions. In all, only one registered a vote of no.
For the free cities, Geoffrey spoke a definite yes, as did Lord Fantyu. Chancellor Van’te also voted positively. King Jarom, King Peter and King Alexas each followed with a definite no, and lastly King William exuded a yes. As he retook his seat, he smiled broadly at Lord Serant. The smile was short lived and quickly followed by an expression of gloom.
With the final count, the room grew deadly calm. As Chancellor Volnej lowered his quill, he passed the scroll to Chancellor de Vit for his mark. The chancellor read the inscriptions with extreme care, insuring the validity of each word penned. When he was finally satisfied, he scribed his sign and passed the document on to Chancellor Van’te, who represented both South Province and his role as a chancellor at this session.
The chancellor’s face was inscrutable as he inspected the scroll. He turned and faced Chancellor de Vit and Chancellor Volnej. The three retreated to the far reaches of the great hall, seeming to disappear from the sight of those gathered. They sat for over an hour of heated discussion in a second set of high pews on three sides that almost formed a separate chamber, except that they had the same common roof and no walls to divide them. The center tier was only three levels high, but the eastern and western tiers rose to the windows.
Their debate concluded, they sent for both Lord Serant and King Jarom and the two quickly and graciously withdrew to hear the count as it was written, and within the span of a few minutes retook their positions back in the main section of the chamber. The chancellors followed the two and moved to the center of the great hall.
Regally, Chancellor Van’te stood and raised his eyes to gaze unto the throng. Harshly, he cleared his voice and then began to speak these words, “Let it be known that on this day and henceforth all contentions surrounding our most regal office have justly and fairly been settled. All in attendance have been afforded the opportunity to voice their minds and have done so. I hold in my hands the official count, signed by representatives of opposing parties. These words inscribed herein are law, and henceforth will they ring throughout our lands. Lord Serant of the Western Territories rise. King Jarom of Vostok rise.”
Chancellor Van’te paused and took a deep breath. “Do you, Lord Serant, understand the law of just dispute?”
“Yes, of course. You know I do.”
“Do you King Jarom understand the law of just dispute?”
“Yes, certainly.”
“Then do you both agree to the trial?”
“Yes.”
“Yes.”
“To ensure the absoluteness of the ruling set forth this day, Lord Serant and King Jarom have agreed to settle their dispute according to the rules of the commoner.”
Hurriedly, the three raced back to the square. All appeared to be normal as the crowd dispersed, but Seth could still feel an overwhelming sense of evil emanating from somewhere within the throng of people. His mind reeled and went back through the past piece by piece, searching. “Had I been so preoccupied with the dilemma that I had failed to notice its source? How could I be so foolish?” he thought to himself as he traversed the maze in his mind.
As they approached closer to the platform, the presence grew stronger. He looked with horror to the platform. The Queen-Mother, Tsandra, Ylad’, Nikol, Ontyv, and Samyuehl were all there, circled around Valam’s fallen form. He tried to reach out to them with his mind and warn them; he could not. They were all trapped in the enticement as he had been; nothing could reach them.
Seth carefully signaled Cagan and Liyan to sweep around to the backside of the platform. He made the signals with his hands, for now he dared not risk even using the simplest of his powers any more. As one the three jumped onto the dais, they knew the creature perceived their approach and they also knew they were too late.
Valam rose as the vile being spawned within his body. In the single sweeping of its clawed hands it raked through the onlookers. Tsandra, Ylad’, and Nikol fell to the ground. Their bodies offered but a single shudder as their threads were released to the winds and as readily as a babe hungrily laps its mother’s milk, the creature devoured their waning souls.
Together, Seth, Cagan, and Liyan descended upon the creature, knocking it back to the ground. They held it there only for an instant while the creature mocked their feeble attempt to stop it. It bathed in their anger and then laughed a deep hideous laugh.
“King Mark sends his warmest greetings!” it boomed as it gripped Cagan and Liyan around the throat. Seth battered the being’s head heavily onto the platform to no avail. Cagan and Liyan were drawn with it downward, struggling to free the death grip from around their throats as they fell.
Brother Ontyv slowly reclaimed his senses. He saw the struggle and knew the danger, yet his first priority lay with the safety of the Queen-Mother. It was not until after Ontyv had pulled her from the platform that she regained her senses. As she did, the shock of the events hit her and she knew why the creature had won its way into their inner selves. She knew why it had been able to mask its presence from them, and why it had so enticed them. She also knew how it must be destroyed.
Finally, Cagan and Liyan managed to free themselves and now held down the creature’s arms. Seth held the dark one’s head down with one hand and unsheathed his dagger with the other. He plunged it fully into the being’s heart.
The creature only laughed louder and smiled as its strength grew with each passing second. Seth sank the dagger into its chest repeatedly, until he began to feel his energy ebb. He could do nothing except wait as his end came. The creature drank in his soul.
The Queen-Mother rang these words out across the reaches of time and across the lengths of the land, “There is nothing but love in my heart. Only joy and love abide herein, for I am the Queen-Mother. Only love and harmony exist in my mind. Love for all dwells within my heart. My body is one with all in peace and harmony. I hold love in my heart for Valam.”
Tears flowed freely down the Queen-Mother’s cheeks, as never before, as the vision began to fade and dim. Her whole inner spirit writhed and shouted out to her senses to stop what she had set in motion before it was too late. She wondered at the price the Father had paid to bestow upon her the gift. She understood the wrong that must be corrected and the repercussions if she didn’t, but she couldn’t force herself to move.
She closed her eyes and replayed the images in her mind; vividly they lingered. They raced faster and faster and in the span of a single heartbeat, she was back on the platform, watching as the creature killed her brethren. She saw Valam run into the crown and watched again as they trampled him. She watched as the life drained forever from his lips.
The Queen-Mother strove to deny the truth of the warning, but it would not be disclaimed. She knew what she must do, and so she did it, as she had done before. In a burst of emotion, she opened her eyes and retreated from the tower window. She ran, faster than she had ever run before, down the stairs.
“Valam! Wait! Oh, please wait! I can find love for you!” screamed the Queen-Mother, as she ran. “I mean. I will honor our union and I will try to find the truth of my heart.” She almost bit her lip on the last few words. They had issued from her so effortlessly, without meaning, until she said them. After she said them, she could not deny their truth.
Valam stopped cold as he entered the hall adjacent to the tower. He turned and strained his ears to ensure that what he heard was real. When the words repeated in his mind, he knew they indeed were real and not his imagination. He replied loudly in kind, repeating her words to him.
He raced back up the winding stairs, his hearted pounding rapidly as he did so, and his body began to tremble as he crossed the few last steps that remained between them. He grasped the queen’s outstretched hands in his own and pulled her close to him.
They pressed closer and closer together, staring deeply into each other’s eyes; the sound of their deep breathing resounded through the tower. They stood thus, afraid to move for what seemed an eternity but was actually only a moment in time.
Finally the queen inched her lips forward until they touched Valam’s, then she pressed them full against his. He returned her caress with equal fervor. Suddenly the queen pulled away as a thought returned to her mind.
She held tightly to one of Valam’s hands as she raced down the stairs, almost pulling him behind her. “What is it?” he protested. “We must hurry! Come!” responded the queen.
They reached the bottom of the stairs but did not stop running. The queen raced through several narrow corridors with Valam a pace behind her. As they turned a corner into the central hall, they had to halt to avoid smacking into Evgej. With only a slight hesitation, the queen continued down the corridor. Valam returned Evgej’s puzzled look and waved for him to follow.
The queen went straight through the audience hall that Seth and his red-clad followers filled, out the great doors, down the stairs, and into the courtyard. The crowd of brown-clad warriors parted the way as she mounted the central platform in a slow, stately manner, fully regaining her composure.
“What is it? What is happening?” yelled Evgej as he followed Valam and the queen. “I don’t know!” replied Valam.
“No! Really, what is it?”
“I really don’t know!” yelled Valam as he struggled to keep up.
“Tsandra!”
“Yes, my queen,” came the response.
“Come here.”
Tsandra mounted the platform and whispered into the queen’s mind, “You needn’t tell me, I already know what you will say. I, we all, heard your pledge.”
The Queen-Mother gazed out into the crowd and knew Tsandra’s words to be true. “My daughter, let me look into your eyes and see your heart.” Hesitantly, Tsandra obeyed. The queen smiled. “It is I who am sorry.”
“This day has been doubly blessed! Our hopes have been fulfilled. Last night the future of two peoples has been insured. The child of East and West will be! Also, I have been allowed the gift of sight and in so doing, the Father has also given his blessing to my greatest wish. I have been allowed to love someone as I have never known before if it is in my heart to do so and I think it may be. Valam and I may one day be as one, but the time still lies in the distant future. We must first win a war! To do that, we must prepare a defense like none has ever seen before. We must continue on schedule with our plans. Today’s departure must remain on time!”
The Queen-Mother paused during the loud cheering of the crowd. A chant began to grow; it was the chant of greatest rejoicing for the return of the king, a song that had not been heard in generations.
Tsandra searched for the proper words to begin what she needed to say; unable to find anything she thought suitable, she just stumbled into it, “Queen-Mother, may I offer the services of the Order of the Brown. It will prove my faith to you.”
“Brother Seth, it is up to you?”
“Valam?”
“It would be an honor.”
“Thank you,” spoke Tsandra enthusiastically. She began barking commands to her order to form up and stand ready then excused herself to begin the preparations. “Shall we prepare to depart?” Seth asked Valam. Valam was slow to respond. Hesitantly he turned his gaze from the queen and turned to Seth.
“Ahh, yes. Is there anything that needs to be readied?”
“All preparations are basically set. We need only to find Cagan and Liyan, my queen.”
“Yes, Brother Seth, follow everything as planned. You have my permission.”
“Thank you.”
Valam leaned close to the queen and quietly intoned, “I—I.”
“I, too. You must go!” said the queen, harsher than she wished, as she strained to hold at bay the emotions within her. She quickly added, “I think I know where you can find Cagan and Liyan. Try the docks.”
“That is what I thought,” said Seth as he departed, followed by Evgej and Valam. Valam looked back just before he exited the square, but the platform was already empty. The three walked toward the docks and, as expected, Cagan’s boat was just returning. Evgej caught the line Cagan offered and tied the ship to the dock. He held back a laugh when Liyan stepped off the boat after Cagan.
The Queen-Mother watched from a window high above. She nodded her head in approval as they hurriedly moved back into the palace. A man clad in dark-colored robes walked out onto the balcony beside her. He whispered into her mind, “My queen, is it time?”
“No,” came the response into his thoughts, “just follow; I will tell you when it is time.”
By early afternoon, a large contingent was mounted and waiting before the far gates of the palace with Tsandra, Seth, Liyan, Cagan, Valam, and Evgej at the fore of the group; a mass of brown clad riders filed in long columns behind the lead six. A second formation of riders stretched horizontally across the courtyard.
The queen crossed to her platform, her emotions controlled behind the mask of her face as she looked over the group from rear to front, wishing each rider a safer return. She paused at the last rider and wished him her love. She ordered the central gates opened and bid the group a final farewell.
The brigade slowly strode through the city. A gate in a hillside near the outer walls lead to a wide tunnel that carried them beneath the waters of the great lake. At the exit of the tunnel on the opposite shore they were forced to wait until the supply caravans joined them; then they continued on their way. As they rode away, Valam occasionally looked back toward Leklorall’s spiraling towers and mighty walls. His heart was not in riding this day; he longed to be somewhere else but knew he could not.
The vision flowed strongly; it would not fade. Vilmos felt the surge of strength within him peak beyond the limits of his mind. The power became him and he became the power. He could not control it, nor could it control him. They were two entities wrapped in turmoil in each other’s arms.
“Where will you go now, my friend? Where is it you think you can hide? There is no place to flee to; you only run from yourself.”
“But I know where I must go and what I must do.”
“Do not lie to me, for you cannot lie to yourself.”
“Still your tongue or I will invoke pain within you that will be so great your soul will cry out for death, but I will not let you pass. I will hold your spirit at bay until the pain grows within you to such an intensity that your spirit will wish itself from existence.”
“You most of all should know true death, but lest you not forget its curse, I will welcome the day I return to walk through the halls of your memories, as I already have and will throughout eternity.”
“Then it is you, old friend.”
“Of course it is I, who else could it be?”
“But you are dead.”
“So are you; we are both long since passed.”
“Yes! Last time we met, I defeated you.”
“No, we destroyed each other.”
“Correction! I destroyed you both!”
“I do not understand; why, then, am I here?”
“Yes, why?”
“I have brought you back to learn from. I need your knowledge, and I will have it.”
“Do you think you can order us, as if we were children? Each of us has the power to utterly destroy you at will and yet you talk to us as if we were token pawns.”
“You are quite right. You are token pawns, the fools on the board, and I am your master.”
Vilmos received a crushing blow to the head; excruciating pain filled every fiber of his being. He cried out into the darkness of the night. He searched within his mind striving to force the vision away. The two would not go; they could not go. The third spoke in a voice that caused Vilmos’ mind to recoil. The image of the last began to clear, and though it was a shadow of himself, Vilmos failed to recognize it. He could not, for he did not want to.
Vilmos watched as the three began to circle each other methodically, each assessing the other. The two old friends smiled cynically at the third. They knew what they must do, and so they did it. Wildly, they attacked each other, creating a vortex of swirling energies.
“Go away!” cried out a small voice, “Go away now!”
The thoughts would not go. They demanded to be heard and recognized. They demanded to be alive. Vilmos clasped his ears and pounded his head into the ground, until the wetness of blood dripping down his face soaked the ground about him. The pain within him was replaced by the pain from without; only then at the moment of unconsciousness did the voices fade from his thoughts.
Nijal raced his mount toward the leader, his sword and dagger raised ready to plunge. He screamed his battle cry of defiance strong and true; then the two horses collided. The leader had not expected Nijal to reach him; the shock was evident on his face as he was knocked sprawling.
In an instant, the other riders stopped; they thirstily began to circle Nijal. He did not flinch under their scrutiny. His weapons remained erect and challenging.
“Your death will come easy, put down your weapons and we will not harm you!”
“I spit on your offering of surrender; no free man ever surrenders willingly. I am a free man.”
“And will die as such!” the words rang out before Nijal could finish them. “The free man’s code, where did you learn it?”
“Why, from my father of course,” said Nijal spurring his mount into a charge at the speaker. He leapt from his mount, throwing the rider back to the ground. Nijal dropped his sword to free his hand to hold the man, while his other held a dagger firm against the man’s throat.
“Tell them to stop the attack. Tell them now or you will die!”
“I cannot. We will both die then.”
“Tell them, or I’ll slit your throat!” yelled Nijal while he pulled the man’s head back by his hair with his free hand. The other stared into Nijal’s eyes unafraid.
The light of torches increased about them while the two struggled. Nijal knew his fate was soon coming. He had accomplished what he had hoped for. He had given his friends a chance to escape, and that was all he had wanted. He would die, but he would take this man with him.
“I, Nijal, son of Geoffrey, take your life with that of mine!” said Nijal as he raised his dagger to plunge deeply, insuring the other’s demise. The man released a blood curdling cry, “Nijal? No! Nijal, don’t.” It was too late; Nijal thrust downwards with his blade.
Strong hands grabbed Nijal’s arm and held his dagger at bay. Nijal gritted his teeth and cursed, thrusting downward with all his weight, never faltering in his determination. “Nijal, son of Geoffrey—don’t! It is I,” screamed the other.
Thoughts and sounds exploded in Nijal’s mind; with a puzzled frown, he allowed his weapon to be pulled from his hand. “Release him at once! Stop! Stop! Go now and tell them to stop the chase. Go! These are friends!”
Shchander continued to yell and wave his hands wildly in the air until everyone began to listen to him. He helped Nijal to his feet, grabbed the nearest torch and pushed it close to Nijal’s face. “Look!” he yelled, “It is Nijal. Nijal, I tell you. Get Geoffrey quickly!”
Several riders raced back towards the main group by the roadside. Nijal instantly recognized the distinguished-looking statesman that raced towards him and embraced him. “It is good to see you!”
“Yes, father it is good to see you also.”
“Sorry about the misunderstanding, but when we spotted you and you broke for the trees, we assumed you were bandits.”
“Well, maybe I am.”
“Yes, you are quite the rogue, aren’t you? Have you found what you sought?”
“Yes, father. I am finally content; I have purpose.”
“This is good. Tell your friends to return. We shall camp here for the evening and catch up on times past.”
“I am sorry. We cannot afford to tarry any longer. We must find our path.”
“Are you sure? Do you need anything? Want for anything?”
“No, father. We need only to return to the road. My companions will wish to remain anonymous. We have cargo that cannot be seen.”
The two talked, as a father and son do, and quickly caught up on times past. Nijal was very interested in hearing news of the gathering. Readily, he soaked up the information Geoffrey offered so he could re-tell it to Noman. When Geoffrey had finished, Nijal quickly and carefully skirted the details of what he had been up to.
“Ahh, yes, I understand. May I ask where you are headed?”
“North. Tell Calyin and Lord Serant our cargo is safe. The child will be all right. I do not want her to worry.”
Geoffrey knew better than to push for further information, so he asked, “Will you be all right, Nijal, my son?”
“Yes, if we leave here soon.”
“I will give you an escort to insure your safety.”
“We need none.”
“Don’t argue with me. Shchander is a good man. I will send his detachment with you. They are all loyal men, as you well know. They will receive your orders as they would mine.”
“Your offer is kind, but I must flatly refuse it. We need no assistance.”
“A few more men can only aid you. It would be for the best.”
“We have no need for brute force. Only stealth will save us.”
“Then I must accept your words. May the Father watch over you.”
“May the Father also watch over you,” said Nijal as he remounted. He gripped the reins tightly and spurred back toward his companions.
“Tell your friend, I send salutations. Tell him thanks again for the assistance. I am twofold in his debt.”
“I will, father.”
Nijal had a wide smile on his face as he raced away, a smile of contentment. His purpose in life had seemed to grow suddenly manyfold. He called out, “It is I, Nijal!” to the bear of a figure that guarded his entrance as he rode closer. “Everything is all right. It was only Geoffrey of Solntse and a group of men from the free city.”
“Yes, we know. We heard. We were with you in thought,” said Amir. Nijal didn’t understand what Amir had meant by the statement, but not understanding didn’t bother him in the least. He simply overlooked the incomprehension and understood. “Is Adrina okay?” asked Nijal, jumping to another subject.
“Yes, she is well.”
They waited until Geoffrey’s group rejoined the road and the sound of their horses thinned into the night air before they too returned to their path. Hastily, they proceeded along the trail, quietly thanking the Mother for the darkness of the night she afforded them.
Amidst the gloom, they passed the place where it is said that north meets south and east becomes west. Nijal thought it strange that the only settlement was an old rundown outpost. If he were a merchant, this would be the perfect place for a business venture, but then Nijal was no merchant, so he kept his thoughts to himself.
Though the winds were quite calm, the night air held a bitter lash. Xith remarked that the storm season would be early this year, bringing with it an end to the previous year. Noman nodded slightly in agreement with Xith’s words. They had been casual in the saying, but each held within them hidden meanings. The future held surprises for them that would not be solved so easily.
As the first light of morning broke, the group stopped for a short reprieve, then took up the trek again: there would be no rest this day. The great road was too well-traveled by patrols and merchants alike. Nijal’s mind started to roam as they slowly journeyed down the road. His attention fell briefly to Xith and he smiled, remembering his companion’s earlier comments.
“Huh?” Nijal uttered as he recalled their previous conversation.
“Only rogues sleep during the day.”
“Well, I guess we are rogues then, are we not?”
“Of course we aren’t rogues. Now go help Amir with the horses. We can’t afford to have any lame animals on our hands.”
“But wouldn’t it be better to rest here than to continue?”
“No, it would not be better. Sometimes it is better to be blatantly obvious than to be covert; this is one of those times, and we also need to make up some distance.”
“Nijal, watch out! Here give me those.”
“Sorry,” apologized Nijal as he snapped out of his reverie and pulled the reins to bring the horses to a halt. “What is it?”
Xith pointed to the rider in the distance behind them. “So, what about him?” offered Nijal. “You said this road was well-traveled and so far this is the only person we have encountered.”
“Amir marked him last night. He has been following us ever since.”
“Where is Amir? I haven’t seen him for some time.”
“He is there,” said Xith pointing again back down the trail.
“Where? I don’t see him.”
“That is because you see only with your eyes. Look with your mind and you will see him.”
“Hocus pocus, mumbo jumbo,” thought Nijal to himself. He partially understood the concepts of energies and magic although it was hard for him to accept. Inside, Nijal did not want to admit their truth although he had to confess to seeing some fairly odd things happen since he had joined Xith and the others.
“Okay, I’ll look,” said Nijal. Once again he was forced to rework his consciousness up to a level of acceptance without comprehension. “Wow!” he exclaimed when a second rider entered the images of his mind.
As the first rider approached it became clear that he was puzzled as to whether he should continue up the path or stop. His horse would speed up and then slow down. Once he even stopped under the pretense of watering and feeding his mount; and when it became clear that he was being scrutinized, he mounted and continued up the path towards them. His face was completely covered by a dark hood, making it impossible to see anything distinguishing about the figure. As the distance between them diminished to a few paces, Nijal couldn’t contain the smirk on his face. It seemed so ironic that Amir rode right alongside the other and yet was invisible to him.
“You can dismount now!” said Amir to the startled rider as he appeared beside him and reined in his mount. Obviously shaken, the rider dismounted as he had been told. “Aw, I should have known I never would have been able to pull it off,” muttered the rider as he removed his hood.
Nijal burst out laughing as he recognized the disgruntled man. “You never should have come. This is no place for you, but since you are here—” Nijal paused to judge Xith’s opinion on the subject then continued, “—since you are here—you are most welcome!” Nijal jumped down from his perch and embraced the other.
“Shchander, you are most welcome in our party,” said Noman, “although you have picked a rather precarious time to join us. It would be best for you to rejoin your companions on the road to Imtal.”
“My place is here. I have given my pledge.”
Nijal added quietly, “Now there are two,” saying the last word only in his mind, “misfits.”
“Neither of you are misfits,” added Noman.