by Robert Day
The Equinary of the Black Lion Clan sat in his appointed position, while Valdieron moved to the center of their circle, studying each quickly. They all appeared similar, of middling years with lithe and worn bodies that were a mark of their harsh lifestyles. Some had sparse grey hair, while one had gleaming white hair, while one was short for a Darishi at probably a head shorter than Valdieron, and another looked as if he would brush his head against the seven foot ceiling if he stood, such was his lankiness.
It was the white haired Equinary who addressed him, not rising or giving any indication of who he was, though the Foal emblem on his cloak marked him as the Equinary of the Daris Clan, which Valdieron would have probably guessed anyhow.
“Valdieron of Tyr. It has come to our attention through our esteemed compatriot that you have been accused of murdering the Chieftain and future Heir of the Black Lion Clan. Your story has been imparted unto us, but we would hear it from your mouth so as to get some perspective on it, if you would.” He did not mention if Khalan had already given them his version of the story, but Valdieron figured the brother's story would have been heard almost immediately.
Valdieron frowned in thought, though knew it was not a good idea, probably giving these men the impression he was trying to recall a story, not a chain of events, but he began his telling quickly, beginning with his first crossing into Darishi, then his meeting with the brothers and the Haita'kar. During his telling, the Equinaries were silent, obviously weighing his words carefully, but occasionally one would nod imperceptibly or furrow their brows in concern or thought. Knowing these supposedly wise men would probably see through any exaggeration or overacting on his part, he kept his story monotonous and to the point.
When he finished, there was silence as if the nine men were waiting for more, but they were probably waiting for the Daris Clan's Equinary to rise and dismiss him, which he did after a thoughtful pause. He had expected some questioning, so the dismissal surprised him. Maybe there was no need in their minds to go over anything or clear anything up, which made him shudder slightly.
“Valdieron of Tyr, the Council have heard your words and will weigh them appropriately against what other details have been presented. Return and rest, for on the morrow your decision will be made public.
At that, a guard pulled back a flap and motioned to accompany him, which Valdieron did almost mechanically. He had a terrible feeling from being near these men that they had already made their decision, and it was not a good one for him. His mind, though shocked, screamed for him to try and escape. It told him that come the morning, his fate (and perhaps that of the rest of the Realms), would rest in the hands of nine old Equinaries from the plains of Kil’Tar. Should he have told them of his quest: of the portals and the demons? Somehow he did not think they would believe him.
Wondering then at how fickle destiny could be, he hardly noticed as he was returned to Jalek and his bedroll, past the gazes of a hundred clansmen and more. Food was pressed into his hands and he ate, this also without taste or desire, and when he was done, he rolled over to sleep, his mind restless and jumbled. Sleep was not easy in coming, and when on occasion he did look around, he saw that double the usual amount of guards were surrounding him. Obviously the Equinaries did not want him to wander during the night.
After a time, he did find some solace in sleep, though it was troubled and for some reason he could not enter Kel'Valor, despite his trying, and the dreams that replaced it were not the most calming, with most of them entailing his demise in many number of ways, though all incorporated snakes. So it was, that when a hand shook him firmly to awaken and he looked up into the eyes of Jalek, he thought he had better take a good look at the rising sun, because it would probably be his last. Surprisingly, he accepted this, knowing to fight it would mean an even worse fate. At least this way, he would have his dignity as he accepted that which had handed to him, however grim.
With this newfound tranquility, he rose to meet with the Council of Equinaries.
Chapter 11
Valdieron could not have hoped for a better morning, considering it would probably be his last. The sun was beginning to climb over the low walls of Stonemere, bathing it in pure light. There were no clouds to break its efforts, nor would there likely be throughout its sojourn over the lands. A sense of purity marked this morning, which seemed somehow fitting and lamentable.
The Pavilion was already packed with members of the royal families as his entourage of guards, led by Jalek, brought Valdieron to it. From the press of people, servants included, the nine Equinaries emerged wearing pure white capes with only the Symbol of their Clans covering the upper half, both front and back. They formed a line at the perimeter of the stone platform, while Valdieron was left below them. 'Not a promising position!' he mused, though he did this with a smile, seeing some mirth in it somewhere, but not quite recalling where.
It was the Equinary of the Daris Clan who addressed the collective Clans turned out to view the sentence of the council. Surprisingly, there was a pervading silence among the usually flamboyant clansmen as they waited, as if expressing their attitudes towards the coming event.
“Fair morning, Clansmen of the Darishi!” Valdieron did not know this man's name, having not heard it spoken, and he suddenly wished to have known the name of the man who would be sending him to his doom. It was only a minor thing, but it was one of the many things he rued not having done or known. Not surprisingly, his mind began to wander as the weight of his demise pressed at him, and many images came to him, mostly of people he had met in his past. They included his father and brother, Kylaran, Natasha, Kitara, Kalamar, portly Will Otterman and old Bart Letterman, who he would liked to have gotten to know better. There was Thorgast and Llewellyn, Nagus and Hubert the drunk Wagoner, with whom he had shared his first hangover. There was also the woman, Kaylara, who had seduced him at the Inn at Garthtown, whose face seemed to loom clearer than the others, while the spectral face of Astan-Valar and Ka'Varel made sudden appearances and were gone.
“It is by the Order of the Council of Equinaries...”
The words came to him, rousing from his sudden trance, and he shook himself, wondering how he had seen these images so clearly in only a moment's passing. With a wry smile at yet another mystery he would not be able to ponder, he cast his gaze up at the Equinary, a faint smile played across his face as if he were watching a play by the village youngsters back at Shadowvale.
“...that Valdieron of Tyr be sentenced to the Sacrifice of the Serpent for the murder of Dhalan, Chieftain of the Black Lion Clan. All taint shall be consumed by the serpent, cleansing his soul for its passage into the Spirit world, our last and most gracious gift for him.” The words became more grave and commanding as the Equinary spoke, and every clansman seemed to hang on the next words, but the pause gave way to some lamenting whispering, and a few soft cries of ‘false justice’, and ‘take the fall’, were heard over the quiet, but the Equinary continued as if he had heard nothing.
“Let those who would perform the ritual step forward!”
A buzz ran through the assembled Clansmen as heads turned. Moments passed. Valdieron got the impression that either none of the clansmen were willing to partake in his killing, something he did not believe, despite how many he might have touched with his honesty and charisma, or that the task required would be hazardous to any who would participate in it. He smiled at this idea, feeling there may be some justice, though it was only a passing fancy, with no cruelty or coldness in it.
Suddenly there were points and calls as a figure made forward through the press from the rear. Faces and bodies shifted as blades of grass parted by the wind, and the two figures of Akor and Jalek stepped up beside Valdieron, both with eyes cast up at the Equinary as if for acceptance, though moisture seemed to be pooled in Akor's eyes.
The Equinary nodded after a time, during which the crowd had grown hushed. “Honor to you and your families, Akor and Jalek of the Black Lion Clan. Should you not return, you
r memories-”
“I will go, also!”
This new voice, cutting off the Equinary, caused a gasp of astonishment from the crowd, then another of disbelief and shock as Javin stepped forward. He was dressed as if for battle, with a thin chain hauberk beneath his heavy black Ulster, and his twin sabers at his hips. His hair was plaited as usual, but this time secured with gold bands. His face was stern as he looked up at the Equinary, a gleam of challenge evident in his eyes.
“Chieftain Javin,” the Equinary said as he lifted his head up so as to stare down at Javin in a manner that showed he was above interruption and challenge. “The Ritual of the Serpent is limited to those-”
“Who wish to take part, regardless of Rank or position! I have read the laws, Equinary, and I know my rights.”
If the Equinary was taken aback by Javin’s rebuttal, he did not show it. “And you would risk yourself for this Dak'marian?” It was no more a question than statement, as if his participation would somehow lessen Javin's honor or social standing.
“No,” answered Javin. “I risk it for a friend and warrior, as would you if you were a warrior such as us.”
The words seemed as bold an insult as Javin could manage without starting a Clan war, though many in the crowd reached for arms and shouted their disapproval of his words. Answering cries from Javin’s Clansmen threatened to escalate the situation, but the Equinary forced silence through raised fist. A thin smile greeted Javin, and he finally nodded, almost mockingly. “Granted, then. Javin of the Water Seekers Clan will partake in the ritual.”
At this, the crowd burst into shouts and yells as others wished to enlist their services, but the Equinary raised his hands for silence, which came quickly, though grudgingly.
“There will be no more participants. Three shall be more than enough to see the Sacrifice is placed before the Serpent ere the next moon is new. Return to your duties, and let the charged be readied for his journey.”
An almost angry crowd slowly dispersed, leaving Valdieron and the three Darishi before the platform. Valdieron watched as the Equinary returned to the confines of the inner chamber after speaking softly with the other gathered Equinaries, and one seemed to linger, casting a rueful glance at them, and Valdieron noted it was the Equinary of the Water Seekers Clan. The man gave an encouraging nod, whether to them all or to his son he could not tell, and then disappeared after the others without word.
Akor and Jalek disappeared momentarily, returning with weapons, clothing and a small pack each, while Javin shifted to a pile of equipment atop the platform and picked up several items. Valdieron recognized his own gear, and when Javin came to him, he carried his Dragonsword and Llewellyn's rapier along with a light cloak and a long silver cord, finely wrought into a plaid.
After Valdieron put on his cloak and secured his weapons, Rapier at his waist and Dragonsword on his back, Javin came to him and held the silvery cord up before Valdieron, who eyed him and the chain curiously before realizing what it was for. Without comment he held his arms up, hands clasped together, as Javin carefully secured his wrists, not too tight as to cause major discomfort, but not loose enough that he could wriggle free without losing a lot of skin and blood in the process.
“I am sorry, friend. It is our way!”
Valdieron realized the apology for what it was, and nodded in return. He understood these three had taken on a great responsibility, and he would do nothing to cause them dishonor.
“Is there anything else you wish to take with you to your doom?”
These words were from Jalek; his tone indicating it was a customary question. Valdieron merely shook his head.
“Let us be gone, then,” stated Javin, taking up his small pack. “It is seventy leagues to the Spider Ravine, and we have eleven or twelve days before Qantari is new.”
Akor and Jalek nodded, motioning for Valdieron to begin, another part of the ritual, and Valdieron started towards where they motioned, away from the rising sun. He realized they would not be riding to this place called the Spider Ravine, which would make the seventy-league trip quite arduous and demanding. Another part of the ritual, he guessed, and he wondered what they would have done if his sentence had taken place two days before, when Santari was about to begin its new cycle.
He would have plenty of time for thought, he knew, as the four began a fast walk, Valdieron hampered only slightly by his bonds. He turned back once and cast a long look back to where the horses were, and where he knew Shakk and Kaz were, and he bid them a silent goodbye. The notion made him suddenly sad, and he realized the bonds were well placed as the reality hit him and a wave of desperation rolled over him. It passed quickly, however, but from that point onwards he did not smile, but instead wore a frown of dismay.
The small fire crackled, seeming louder to defy the oppressive darkness of the scarce light from the waning Qantari. Santari had not shown himself, seeking to hide his new face from the stars and his brother.
Javin shifted from beside the fire after setting the new pieces to burn, and returned to Valdieron's side. The whole day they had walked, until the stars were easily visible in the evening sky, before Javin had called a halt. Nobody had spoken all day, and Valdieron did not know if that was part of the ritual, but he took a chance and broke the silence.
“I need you to do something for me.”
Javin turned slowly to him, regarding him with sad eyes, much as his father used to have when he had to put down a lame horse, and the image stunned Valdieron before he continued. Obviously he was not banned from speaking.
“Do you remember Kitara, daughter of the King of Thorhus? She was present at the tournament.”
Javin nodded.
“I want Shakk and Kaz returned to her if at all possible, and I need you to give to her a message for me. It is not of vital importance, but it is something I would like to be done. I could write her a note, but I do not think you had cause to bring ink and parchment.” He gave a chuckle at his own attempt at humor, though the Darishi did not. He did nod, however, and Valdieron gave a sigh before continuing.
“Tell her she must give the pendant to whoever she thinks can replace me, and that my honor keeps me from returning for it. Can you tell her that?”
Javin nodded slowly. “Aye, Valdieron. I will do that for you. It is the least I can do for you, considering that which my people have done to you.”
Valdieron smiled thankfully. “Do not defend your people, Javin. The decision was the right one considering the information they had. In the same position, I would have done the same. Let's face it; my story wasn't exactly the most trustworthy, was it.”
Javin shook his head, but there was still regret in his frown. “No, but they looked not at the facts but at the people involved. On one side there was Khalan, a decorated and respected Cavalier of the Black Lion Clan, and there was you, a stranger to our lands who does not know of our customs or ways. Surely they knew Khalan had eyes on the leadership of the Black Lion Clan. It was so obvious, even Dhalan suspected some foul play may one day occur, though I did not think he would fall victim to it. He was a great warrior, and far more skilled than Khalan.”
“The Hara'kar were using some poison that night, so it is likely Dhalan was slowed by its effects, or they defeated him through force of numbers. That is how they got me.”
“Can you tell me what happened?” There was a need in Javin's words that made Valdieron pause. He almost thought the Darishi meant to avenge this outrage against him.
“I will tell you, but do not do something that will jeopardize yourself on my behalf. I have accepted what will happen, and you must also.”
If the Darishi knew what Valdieron meant he did not show it, returning his gaze to the fire awaiting Valdieron's story. Valdieron paused, seeing Akor and Jalek draw closer to hear, and he began to relate to them the true happenings of the night the Hara'kar attacked, and Dhalan was killed by his own brother.
Not surprisingly, their expressions showed their true concerns for what
he was telling them, and he knew by their rapture that they were taking his account as truth, which made him feel better. He felt he had their trust, which was important to him, considering he was facing death for his supposed actions. Akor appeared the most perturbed by his accounts, his face showing his anger, not only at Khalan for his horrific act, but at his kinsmen for their sentencing this innocent man to his death.
Jalek was as somber as usual, though his brow furrowed occasionally and he nodded to himself as if some truths and feelings were forced home, but he said nothing as Valdieron finished his tale.
Javin could only shake his head, in an action that showed he was both shamed and frustrated. If Valdieron thought he noticed moisture reflected in the dim firelight, the proud Darishi hid it as he rose and moved to the edge of the camp, deep in thought. Akor also said nothing, but rested a comforting hand on Valdieron's shoulder before shifting to his own area of the camp and dropping to his bedroll.
With a sigh that epitomized his own misfortune and lamented the worries he had caused these three Darishi he had come to know as well as any, Valdieron rolled back and looked up at the stars. Sparse cloud gathered on the western horizon, the possible front of a storm, which he felt would be more suitable ten days hence.
“It is thought among our people that the stars are the souls of those who have died.” The whispered words of Jalek caught Valdieron by surprise, and he turned to find the old warrior resting back to also view the heavens. “There are countless many, and those we see more clearly are the souls of those who were counted great among our people.”
Valdieron's keen gaze caught the flash of one small heavenly body shooting across the dark veil. “What about the falling stars?” he asked curiously. He had not heard of these religious beliefs of the Darishi, and it gave him an even greater insight into the ways of these spiritual and nomadic people.
