She smiled. She was pretty. Like Marana, her hair was black, though this woman wore it short. Her dark eyes sparkled and her smile drained my anxiety. "I am Elverda." She took the cloth from my forehead and exchanged it for another in the bowl on her lap. "I am now Weylan's wife, and I understand I have you to thank for that."
I closed my eyes. I could not figure out how I was responsible for something that happened while I was a novice in Talianna. It did not make much sense, but nothing else did either at the moment. I opened my eyes again and now both she and Weylan swam into focus.
I stared at Weylan, shook my head, and stared even harder. His body had returned to normal. Once again it was tall and strong. The hands that had been unable to wipe tears from his face now rested on Elverda's shoulder and squeezed them with loving gentleness. That did not surprise me.
What did astonish me was that his face looked as I had last seen it, but now it was truly perfect because no tears rolled from his eyes. Weylan smiled down at me with an exquisite set of teeth and a strong jaw.
Confused, I frowned at him. "I, Weylan, I don't understand."
Weylan sat behind Elverda and looked at me over her left shoulder. "Chi'gandir—a name I did not know until you got here, Nolan—led the bandits who attacked ten years ago. He use his sorcery to disfigure me at that time. His people had worked me over, but I never got a look at myself until after he had done his work. My understanding of magick was and still is minimal, so I thought I was forever to be disfigured. When he returned and laughingly told the other man what he had done to me, I finally understood. He bragged that he could undo it. I begged him to have pity and reverse the magick he had worked so long ago." He stopped and closed his eyes for a moment. "You remember what he did."
I nodded.
"So when you killed him I was restored. I ran to the river and saw bubbles. I dove in and found you. You'd taken in a lungful of water, but after a difficult night you started to recover. This morning Elverda's caravan arrived and we will now live together as man and wife."
I smiled and laid my right hand on top of their joined hands. I squeezed them and then let my hand drop. I drifted off to sleep before it slid back to my side, but the happiness Weylan felt was not lost on me. It made me feel good and eased me into a good dream.
I dreamed of Talianna.
Chapter Two
Nolan: Trial
I unrolled the yellowed map Orjan had given me in Tashar and squinted at the huge dolmen halfway up through the pass. Three stones supported a large, flat triangular slab. I checked the map and smiled. The dolmen was the last landmark on my map. Just up the slope, through the last narrow pass in the Tal Mountains, was Talianna. I'd made it.
I rolled the map back up and jammed it over my shoulder into my pack. I picked up my walking stick and marched forward over the uneven, rocky ground. I was so close to my goal I could feel it just beyond the horizon. The pass would open up and there it would be, Talianna, the home of the people who brought justice to the world.
A smile crept onto my face. I was eager to be done with my journey. A thousand miles and five months before, I'd left my family's home in Sinjaria and set out. At first it seemed a foolish mission. I was not even twelve summers old when I started, and the journey began without any real planning. I knew Talianna lay west and north, so I headed into the Darkesh and just kept walking.
Hiking that last mile I knew all the other miles had seemed long and lonely and dangerous. Even so, try as I might, I couldn't bring to mind the particulars of any one mile when I thought the journey would be ended prematurely. The times I came across signs of outlaw bands, as in the forests of Cela, I hid. When I found a farm or village, I traded work for space near the fire and as much food as I could get. And when I got sick I was lucky enough to meet someone like Orjan who took care of me.
The last hundred yards of the pass rose very steeply and forced me to crawl forward on my hands and feet. I carefully picked my hand- and footholds because I did not want to injure myself so close to the goal I'd worked so hard to reach. I had to make it in good health or the entire journey would be wasted.
Halfway up the slope it occurred to me that the Nolan who started the journey would never have even attempted a climb like this, nor would he have been able to complete it. I'd not filled out during the trek—there was not enough food along the way to let me do that—but I'd grown harder. I'd worked my childhood chubbiness off and I'd grown an inch or two. If I continued at that rate I'd surpass my twin older brothers and perhaps even my father.
I reached the top of the hill before I could catch myself up in thinking about my family. I pulled myself onto the hilltop and collapsed. My chest heaved and labored hard to suck in enough of the thin mountain air to sate my body. A bit dizzy, I lay back and, drunk with success, just started to laugh. Finally I regained enough strength to roll over onto my hands and knees. I levered myself up and the Tal Valley unfolded below me.
I'd never seen anything so green before. Deep, dark living green covered the valley floor. From the patchwork of cultivated fields in the south and west to the forest at the base of the mountains upon which I stood, this valley was the verdant treasure my father had promised our farm would one day become.
The natural wonders of the valley paled to insignificance, though, when compared to Talianna itself. Star within a pentagon within another pentagon, Talianna rose up, a gleaming white stone city full of strength and power. Massive white marble blocks made up the walls and buildings. The outer siege wall stood twenty feet tall, while the inner pentagon soared up to half again that height.
The central star was the most magnificent building I'd ever seen. The walls of each point sloped in and up to form a pyramid at the star's core. The pyramid itself had a flat top and a flagpole set in the center of it. A plain black flag writhed and snapped in the breeze because here, in the Tal province, it needed no ensign.
I stood there and shivered. I took a deep breath and let it out slowly through my nose. I had arrived: I'd reached my destination. I'd finished my journey and the time came for me to decide my destiny.
I opened a pouch on my belt and fished around in the bottom of it for a small, leather-wrapped packet. I untied the lacing and took out a single gold Imperial. It had been my family's treasure and was only to be used in an emergency, but even it had not been enough to save them.
It was an old coin, so old I could not read the inscription. Bright and clean as the day the mint struck it despite its antiquity, it bore no signs of use or wear. The words on the coin were old and although I knew how to read, I could not make out what they meant. Still I did recognize the face on the coin. It was Emperor Clekan, the first emperor, Clekan the Just.
I weighed the coin in my hand. I relished its coolness, and reveled in the fact that it no longer seemed heavy. I swallowed once and flipped the coin high into the air. It spun and spun, flashing spears of sunlight off in all directions. As it fell to earth again I caught it in my open right palm. Clekan's profile glowed in the sunlight.
I smiled. "It's decided. I'm yours."
A shadow blotted out the sun. I twisted to my right and caught a flash of white and brown descending through the blue sky. A high scream deafened me and something hit me hard in the back. I felt the shoulder straps on my back pull, twist, and snap as I smashed into the ground.
I landed hard on my chest and had the wind knocked from my lungs. I bounced once and flipped onto my back. I lay there, arms and legs splayed out, while I tried to breathe and scream. I tried to swallow enough air to stem the suffocating feeling in my chest, but my body would not respond. In addition to my breathlessness, my back complained of the impact and the jagged chunk of rock beneath me.
I felt someone grab my shoulders and pull me off the rock. "Don't try to move. Is anything broken?" The voice was young, about my age, and as nervous and scared as I felt.
I shook my head and opened my eyes. A sandy-haired, brown-eyed boy wearing a brown jerkin with a white hawk
in flight stenciled on the left breast stood over me. With my response to his question he calmed almost instantly and that calmed me.
"I'm an Elite novice." He reached down and took hold of my belt. He lifted up, arched my back gently, and forced air into my lungs. I didn't breathe much in, but it cooled the burning in my chest nonetheless. He lowered me, then lifted again.
The numbness centered in my chest faded. I nodded at him and tapped his arm twice. He let me down and crouched beside me. "Can you feel your legs and toes?"
I took in a deep breath and exhaled slowly. I squeezed my eyes shut against the pain of sore ribs. I drew my knees up and flexed my toes. "Yes, I can."
The Talion novice rocked back on his heels and smiled. "I'm sorry for what happened. I passed my trial today and took Valiant up for a flight. He saw something and stooped. It wasn't until the last second I saw you. No one's supposed to be up in these mountains during Festival."
I tucked my legs under me and came up into a sitting position. The sharpness of pain in my back drained away, but it still felt pretty sore. That's when I saw Valiant for the first time—the blur of color I saw before he hit me did not count—and I paled.
The Elite caught my reaction and smiled. "Don't be afraid of him. He's not even full grown yet."
Valiant was an Imperial Hawk. Its belly was white and dappled with dark brown, while the wings and back were light brown. It stood, hobbled and hooded, about twenty feet away from me and shredded my pack. From talons to the top of its head it stood about six feet high, and when full grown would be able to take cattle the way a kestrel takes varmints.
My mouth went dry. "The, ah, that's what hit me?"
The Elite nodded. He hefted my coin and flashed it in the sunlight. "I think he saw the flash and went for it. You shouldn't be up here. How did you get past the patrols keeping Festival people out of this area?" He handed me the coin and I returned it to my pouch.
"I came in from the north. I'm coming to be a Talion. My name's Nolan, Nolan ra Sinjaria."
The Talion's eyes narrowed, then he stood. "I'm Erlan ra Leth, though I've been in Talianna since just after I was born. Come on." He reached down and helped me to my feet. "You've got to sign in by the end of today or you can't try to join during this Festival."
I looked down at the valley below. "I can't climb down there by the end of the day."
Erlan smiled. "I know. I'll fly you down."
* * *
I don't know if Valiant just didn't like my weight on his back or he could smell the fear on me, but he made my first ride a rough one. My heart rode the whole way in my mouth and I was glad I'd not stopped to eat any lunch on the trail. I felt queasy as Valiant spread his wings, and I left my stomach back on the mountain when we dropped toward the valley below.
I held on tight to the saddle harness and hunched down to make myself as small and compact as possible. I heard Erlan curse the bird a couple of times, but he maintained control and got us safely off the mountain.
Erlan let Valiant glide down in a long spiral and tapped me on the shoulder. I looked at him and he pointed down. As I looked beyond Valiant's wing I saw the smile growing on Erlan's face. He knew exactly what I was seeing for the first time, and he shared my excitement and amazement.
Southwest of Talianna stood a grove of tents and pavilions. Brightly colored and clumped together like mushrooms, the largest pavilions flew flags and pennants from the different nations of the Shattered Empire. Ringing them were the smaller cloth homes of merchants and lesser dignitaries who came to enjoy the Festival.
I looked at Erlan. "The people look like ants," I yelled so he could hear me. "Everything is so small."
He smiled and nodded. "I'll land Valiant at the Mews and then we'll walk down and take care of you." He pointed first at a long, rectangular building northwest of the siege wall, then at a black pavilion between the festival tents and Talianna itself.
Erlan tapped Valiant on the head with a crop and we started down quickly. The wind whipped my hair back and forced tears from my eyes, but the exhilarating sensation of speed made the ride anything but uncomfortable. In that descent I abandoned my fear of the Hawk. How could I fear something that could let me fly?
Valiant spread his wings, splayed out the feathers, and beat them to slow us. We hovered at a dead stop bare feet above the ground, then dropped to a soft landing. Valiant cried triumphantly and Erlan scratched him on the neck before hooding the Hawk.
Erlan tossed the reins to another Elite novice and headed off toward the large black pavilion south and west of the Mews. He got a couple steps ahead of me and I hurried to catch up. He couldn't have been any older than I was, yet he walked with an ease and confidence I'd not seen in a youth before. It wasn't an arrogant swagger, like the kind one might expect from a bully who thinks he's the toughest person in the county. It was a head-held-high stride that was nonthreatening, yet was not timid or submissive.
Erlan pointed to a slightly rotund man wearing black pants and tunic. "Nolan, go over to that table and talk to that clerk." The clerk wore a tunic with the Talion Services division emblem—a hammer crossed by a quill—on his left breast. "I'll come back for you when you are done."
Erlan left me and walked over to two older Talions. He bowed respectfully and spoke with them. As directed, I walked over to the man Erlan had pointed out to me. "Excuse me?"
He looked up from his neatly kept table. His chins jounced just enough to destroy the stern nature of the stare he turned on me. "Yes, boy, what is it?" he demanded impatiently.
I fought to keep a tremble out of my voice. "I want to become a Talion."
He looked me over once hurriedly, then tilted his head back down. "Tell your parents you are too old."
I swallowed the lump in my throat. "They're dead."
He looked at me again and frowned. Was he looking for tears? His knitted brows clearly showed his frustration and annoyance with me. "Did relatives send you?"
I shook my head. I suppose it was a fair question. Any family that has a Talion in it is paid money for that person's service for as long as he remains a Talion. It was not uncommon for families to send an unwanted child to the Talions. "There is no one," I answered slowly. "I am the last of my family."
The clerk nodded and pulled a slip of paper from the stack at his left hand. He dipped his quill in the inkwell and gave me a smug smile. "You're from one of the Western Sea States, right?"
I smiled. He'd guessed correctly. "My name is Nolan."
He wrote on the tan sheet and handed it to me. "Bring that back tomorrow morning and the others will get you ready for your trial."
I rotated the paper around so I could read it. "This is wrong." I handed it back to him.
"What are you talking about?" He stared at me as if I was mad.
I pointed to the error. "It says Nolan ra Hamis. I am Nolan ra Sinjaria."
He laughed. His laughter rippled through his jowls and belly. Anger fired through me and I clamped my jaw shut. I knew what his next words would be and I wanted to jam a fist in his mouth so they'd never get out. "Sinjaria was conquered. As of this spring it is a duchy administered by King Tirrell of Hamis. You are Nolan ra Hamis."
"No!" I crumpled the paper and threw it at the table. It bounced up and hit him in his ample nose. "I wasn't conquered! I owe no allegiance to him or his puppet, Duke Vidor."
The clerk stood. Fury flushed color into his cheeks, and the veins in his neck struggled to stand out. My eyes narrowed and I set myself to trade barbs or hit him if he hit me. Then, wordlessly, he eased back and looked down.
They surrounded me. Erlan stood at my right and the two other Talions he spoke to earlier positioned themselves at my left. The shorter one only came up to my throat. Although his seamed face and leathery skin conspired to make him look old, his jet black hair and lively brown eyes defeated their attempt. He wore brown leathers and had an Elite hawk ensign on his left breast just like Erlan.
The other man towered over me by a
head, which made him very tall indeed. Whipcord lean like the shorter man, he had penetrating brown eyes and a shaven head. He had a very angular cast to his features, which would have made him look emotionless except for the smoldering fire in his eyes. He wore a black robe cinched loosely at his slender waist with a knotted cord. He had a white death's-head on the left breast of his robe—seeing it sent a shiver down my spine. He was a Justice!
The tall man spoke in a low, gentle, yet firm voice. "Is there a problem here?"
The clerk seated himself and shuffled his papers. "No, my Lord Hansur, there is no problem. The youth was confused concerning geography." The clerk reached for the crumpled ball on his desk and smoothed it out.
"I am not confused." I protested and pointed at the paper. "I am Nolan ra Sinjaria and he wrote 'ra Hamis.' "
Lord Hansur took the slip from the desk and read it. His fingers were incredibly long and well callused. He passed the parchment to the Elite beside him and stared down at the clerk. "The slip is incorrect. And it is also incomplete. Have you forgotten the information we need?"
The clerk paled and swallowed hard. "No, my lord."
Lord Hansur looked down at me. "You are Nolan ra Sinjaria?"
I nodded. "Yes."
"Family?"
"None, I am an orphan." As I answered Lord Hansur's questions the clerk copied my responses onto a new slip of parchment.
Lord Hansur paused for a second. "I am sorry for you. How many summers have you seen?"
I hesitated. "Twelve, but..."
The clerk would have written twelve but Lord Hansur flicked his left hand in that direction to stop him. "You do know your own age?"
I smiled nervously and glanced down at my feet for a heartbeat. "I was born very early in the fall, just at the end of the summer. I didn't see my first summer, but I didn't miss it by much either."
Again Lord Hansur paused. His eyes narrowed momentarily and he folded his arms so that his hands disappeared into the sleeves of his black woolen robe. "Understand this, Nolan, we use age to determine the difficulty of the trial for our novices. The trial will be less demanding for someone who is twelve than someone who is thirteen. You may try to become a Thirteen if you wish, but it is your choice."
Talion Revenant Page 3
