»You are a brave, courageous warrior, my son. Next week the school begins, and Lord Befen will be the foster father for you until I come back with your mother«.
Atesch nodded silently, holding on to his father’s neck with both hands. After some time, he released himself carefully and gave him a gentle kiss on his forehead.
»I love you, Atesch.«
»I love you too, father.«
Adar rose, handed Befen his arm. Then he sat up and rode away. In the gate, he turned around once more and raised his hand to greet them.
Befen and Atesch greeted in the same way. Then Adar was gone.
The Administrator laid both hands on Atesch’s shoulders. He turned around, pressed Befen’s legs, and began to cry. Befen bent down to him, lifted him, and pushed him to his chest. So he carried the child to the residence. »Cry, my little Atesch. It’s all right. Even great warriors may be sad. Even we can cry. For we have deep feelings for those who are essential to us.« He stroked the boy’s almost black hair soothingly.
Adar was now gone. But he had left behind a great treasure. Befen fervently hoped that one day, his friend would return for this treasure. Now he was responsible for the boy. He would replace his father as best he could. It was better for Atesch if Adar succeeded in what he intended. Atesch needed father and mother, and Adar needed Maioshan to live.
Six - Adar in the land of Emeishan
Adar rode eastwards towards the wall. He knew that somewhere, there was a hidden entrance from which one could enter the land. Maioshan had spoken of this place. The only place where tendrils grew on the rock. So far, he had not found such a place, but the wall stretched along the entire border and beyond. Perhaps this place did not exist in Ized at all but in one of the neighboring countries. The way there was bleak. Everywhere the land seemed still burned, even if in some places, plants grew out of the ground again.
Adar’s respect for the considerable wall had existed since the first visit during his education. Between the wall and the adjoining forest lay one hundred steps of pure rock. There was absolutely nothing on this piece of bare rock. There were no plants, not even grass or moss. As soon as one entered the ungrown strip, it became incredibly quiet. There was only here the phenomenon of absolute silence. Then also the behavior of the animals was strange. He had never discovered deer, wolves, or bears here. Even small reptiles, such as spiders or beetles, did not dare to climb on the ground and avoid the proximity of the rock face. Not even birds flew over the strip of land. The place was shunned by all living as if danger threatened from it.
The area was simply uncanny. Even the rustling of the leaves from the forest stopped as soon as one entered the rock. It was as if not only life but also time did not exist in this place. Magic was at work here. He had always felt that. It wasn’t just powerful magic; it was a threatening, dangerous magic.
Adar was now determined to learn more about the border, but above all, about the land beyond the wall.
Sitting on his horse, he watched the stone wall between the charred tree stumps, but he felt helpless. In which direction should he turn? The wall stretched along the entire border and beyond. He closed his eyes and felt in himself. His longing for Maioshan was omnipresent and drove him north. He gave in to the feeling, but still rode north under the protection of the burnt forest. It was strange, but the distance of the wood from the wall remained the same. It didn’t seem to change at all. It confirmed his view that the border was not of natural origin.
Towards evening the area seemed familiar to him. Then he remembered. The spring where they had found Maioshan years ago must have been nearby. Immediately he drove the horse, and soon after, Adar reached the place. Since there was some grass and especially water for the animals, he stopped. He freed both horses from the load and let them graze. Then he took something to eat from the food bag. Thoughtfully he ate it, staring at the big spot near the spring. It was the place where they had found Maioshan. The spot was still dark from the blood that had seeped into the ground here years ago. It had dried, now a bit faded, but he knew better. The huge stain came from her blood. When it got dark, he lay down, wrapped in the blanket right next to it on the floor. He clawed his fingers into the earth.
Adar could not prevent uncontrolled tears from running down his cheeks. Being without Maioshan caused incredible pain. He regretted never having asked her what had hurt her so badly — neither where she had been hurt nor how she got to that source. For a long time, he thought about what the causes could be. But at some point, sleep overwhelmed him.
In the night, he dreamed of Maioshan. She stood in front of him and stroked his cheek. He could feel the warm and gentle touch. A shiver overflowed him. It was so real. Sadly looking at him, she spoke to him without moving her lips. »Turn around, my dear, turn around. I am in sorrow about you. Emeishan is dangerous. The Red must never learn of you and Atesch. Otherwise, he will kill you because he can hurt me with it. Please turn back and take care of our son. I love you. I beg you, live! Live your life and do not come to me, not yet. Only when the golden streaks are running through the ring.«
He panicked and woke up. The moon stood high in the sky. His face was wet with tears. No, he would not turn back, for then he died. He had tried it! He had tried to live without her! Every day without her warmth, without her closeness, let die something in him. If he did not survive in the fight with the Red, then at least he died in the battle. That was worthy of a warrior. If his future was death, it was fate, and he would accept it. He preferred the death that occurred him in battle to the slow death he had felt for weeks. He wrapped himself in the blanket again and closed his eyes. At some point, he fell into another restless sleep.
The next morning he filled the water hoses. Let the horses drink from the spring, refreshed himself, and put the luggage on the back of the pack animal. He finally saddled the mount and rode on. Always along the border.
Around noon he noticed something on the steep wall in the distance. Plants! There were indeed plants there! It had to be the tendrils Maioshan had spoken of. So far, it was the only place where he had discovered plants. Adar drove the horses and stopped at it, across the rocky surface.
Yes, they were long tendrils winding down the entire wall. They grew very densely, not allowing a view of the rock below. As he approached the plants, the feeling crept upon him that they were moving. They really moved, but not as if it was the wind because there was no wind here. It was more as if they were moving back in front of him, the closer he came to them.
When he now stopped directly in front of the curtain and carefully stretched out his hand to touch the plant, it suddenly moved to the side. Shocked, Adar tore his animal back, breathed deeply, and stared into the gorge that had previously been hidden. Did magic create this? He had never seen such strange tendrils moving by themselves before. That was undoubtedly only done with the help of magic. His heart was beating strongly, and Adar rejoiced inwardly. He was sure he had already found the only way to the mysterious land of Emeishan.
Adar hesitated for a moment to surround himself and the animals with a mental shield. Then he drove the horse forward and followed it with the luggage. Both animals seemed nervous, just as he was. When he took a quick look behind him, the tendrils again formed a living wall that hid the entrance from view.
Behind the first bend, it steadily went uphill, further and further. Adar was uncomfortable, looking up again and again. The narrow gorge offered no cover whatsoever in the event of an attack from above. He would be helplessly at the mercy of a hail of arrows. He decided not to stop anywhere and to leave the place behind as quickly as possible. The way was long and arduous. When he finally arrived on the plateau with the horses, it was early evening. Adar was happy that the sun touched the horizon. There was an incredible heat up here. The sun had been heating the rocks all day. The air even flickered from the rising heat.
Adar looked around. As far as he could see, there was only the smooth rock. Nowhere did he discover trees or mou
ntains that provided shade. Although he only stayed here for a short time, the sweat ran down his temples. And not alone there. His clothes were stuck to his body. He decided to ride all night and hoped to find shade somewhere before morning.
Again he listened into himself. Where did his feeling drive him this time? Soon afterward, he steered the horse north and rode on.
When night fell, and he could no longer see the bumps on the rock, he had to stop and pause until the moon rose. While he waited, he ate and drank something. In a hollow he found in the rock, he gave the horses of the water from one of the hoses.
But as soon as the moon had risen, he sat up and rode on. He had to get as far as he could. By day, riding in the heat of the sun would cost both him and the animals too much strength and increase water consumption. So he drove the horses as long as they were healthy. When the moon went down, he stopped again. As soon as dawn showed, he searched the horizon. Far away, he discovered some trees. The small grove gave him hope, and he held out towards the group of trees. The heat quickly became unbearable. The horses only trotted slowly ahead, and it was difficult for him to hold himself upright in the saddle. He felt how he became increasingly dizzy. One of the water hoses was almost empty because the animals also needed water. Even more urgent than him, for without them, he would die in the blazing heat.
He reached the few trees that gave him at least some shade and freed the animals from their burden.
The horses were looking for something to eat between the trees as he climbed one of the higher trees to investigate the terrain. In the distance, he recognized more trees. The following night he would ride there. A little more east of his position. Hopefully, he found water there. He descended again and gave the horses the rest of the water of the first hose. He took one sip from the other and ate from the supplies. Then he lay down in the shade of a tree and dozed. Soon he fell asleep.
In the late afternoon, he was woken up by a screech. At first, he thought he had a bad dream, but the screeching sounded again. The horses neigh and getting nervous. Adar rose, stepped up to them to calmed the animals. He was on the lookout. First, he crossed the rocky plain, where he discovered nothing. Again it screamed. Adar looked up at the sky. Far away, something moved towards him from the south. It looked like a massive snake with wings and approached with tremendous speed. He attached the nervous animals to one of the trees. Then he took the baton with the blades out of the weapon bag, loosened the leather sleeves from the sharp edges, and made sure, that the dagger was stuck in his belt.
The strange animal did not look as if it wanted to be stroked. All of Adar’s warrior’s senses were on the highest alert. Already this eerie creature jumped at him, but he led the baton safely, and within seconds, it was over. The animal rolled on the rock and died. At the moment of death, the snake vanished in smoke and disappeared. Adar pulled up an eyebrow in amazement. He had never experienced anything like it before. Magic create this thing, that was for sure. In Emeishan, everything seemed to be related to magic. The curtain that covered the entrance to the land, the gorge itself, now this black-winged snake. The hot rock plateau was also related to magic.
Since the sun almost touched the horizon, he gave the horses water again, drank something himself, and loaded the animals. He had to find water urgently; otherwise, he would die. So he rode off at dusk to reach the larger group of trees. Again he rode all night long, and before dawn, he entered the small forest. There was no water here, either. But within sight, the landscape seemed to change. Should he risk it to ride on? A look at the water bag made the decision easy. He just had to. Once again, he gave the animals water. He only drank a little himself, hardly moistened his lips. There was almost nothing left. He sat up and rode off, although even today, the sun would shine mercilessly down from the sky.
Only slowly did he come closer to the saving green. Shortly before the finish, he had to get off the horse and lead both animals. They, too, had reached the end of their strength. With the last sip of water, he wanted to wait until he reached the green.
In the meantime, he didn’t sweat anymore. He was dehydrated. The blood flowed sluggishly through his veins, and in his head, the pain pounded. He dragged himself on with difficulty. He had to reach the green; he just had to! It was the first juicy stretch of land he saw in this country. There he could rest and regain his strength.
Finally, he reached the goal and let himself fall into the fresh grass in the shadow of a tree. The horses began to graze, and the young and exhausted man lost consciousness.
A pleasant coolness surrounded Adar when he woke up. He immediately realized that he was no longer lying on the meadow. A soft crackle revealed the fire near him. Then he opened his eyes carefully and could see some thick beams covered with shingles above him. He was in a building. The straw bed on which he lay was comfortable and smelled good. He lay on a thick blanket. Another was spread over him, and he felt a damp cloth on his forehead. His lips were dry and brittle. Thirst, he felt terrible thirst. He tried to moisten his lips with his tongue, but his mouth was dry. He looked around vigilantly.
A few feet away from him, a fire was burning in the middle of the room. A large pot hung above it on a simple tripod frame, in which something was simmering that spread a beautiful scent. A woman stood with her back to him and stirred it with a long wooden spoon. The smoke of the fire climbed up into the roof and pulled out through some cracks between the shingles.
In the room, there were some three-legged seats spread around a heavy wooden table. Through a small window, a little light fell in. A sturdy wooden door secured the room. The walls of the house were made of stone. On the walls, there were several wooden chests next to each other.
At the edge of the fire in the embers lay a more significant, flat stone. Shortly before, the woman had put a thin flat cake of bread dough on it, which slowly began to smell. She turned it so that it would be well baked from both sides.
Adar breathed deeply. His stomach growled loudly. None of this could be a dream. The woman seemed to have heard him and turned around. A fleeting smile scurried over her features, and then she bowed her head courteously. She walked to the door, opened it, and called out a few words in a foreign language. Then she took care of the bread and the stew again. Shortly afterward, two men came in. The younger of them seemed to be similar to Adar’s age, a little over thirty years old. He carried a bucket of water and placed it next to the fire on the floor. The second one, several years older, could be the father of the young man. There was a certain similarity. He went over to the woman and spoke quietly to her in the unknown language. Perhaps he was the wife’s husband. She seemed to be about his age.
The young man looked at Adar from a distance with blatant curiosity.
Moments later, a young woman with a small infant and a girl about thirteen or fourteen years old stepped through the door. The young woman came to the bed and laid the infant on another blanket lying on the straw. Then she looked at him and asked something in the same language as the woman had spoken before. He could tell from her voice that it was a question. Slowly, without hectic movements, he lifted his elbows and took the cloth off his forehead. He didn’t want to frighten anyone.
»Forgive me, but I don’t understand you, lady,« Adar said in a rough voice. His throat felt dry, and it was hard for him to swallow. His thirst was overwhelming.
Then, however, he suddenly became attentive, for hardly had he said anything, not only were all eyes on him. These people here seemed to be amazed. He felt everyone holding their breath. Now the older man, carried by curiosity, came closer to him and looked at him closely. Then he closed his eyes and shook his head.
»You are not a priest, yet you speak the ancient language that the priest speaks. Where do you come from, stranger?«
Adar breathed a sigh of relief. Not only did they understand him, but they could also speak his language.
»I come from the land of Ized, beyond the plateau and the wall. I must thank you. You have saved my l
ife. The rocky plain was terrible, and although I had plenty of water with me, it was still too little.«
»My son Balor found you last night on the edge of the wasteland. The boiling heat in the area has already become the fate of many. But never before has anyone voluntarily come from there. If so, then the people fled from Emeishan.«
The man briefly pointed over to the younger one as he spoke. Adar looked at him and bowed his head gratefully. What time of day might be? He had spent at least the whole night here unconscious because daylight came in through the window.
»He saw your horses, and as he approached, he found you and brought you to our village. You need a lot more water than we have been able to give you so far. Here, drink of the water.«
He handed him a cup of fired clay with clear water in it. »I thank you. Without you, I would probably be dead by now.« Adar painfully sat up. The lack of water had consumed his strength. He took the cup and drank a small sip and then another. He knew it was much better to feed the body with the cool water in small doses and forced himself to do so. He would have liked to drink a whole hose of water at once. After the cup was empty, the girl approached him and gave him more from a jug.
»Thank you, my lady.«
She smiled shyly.
»What brings you to our land, stranger? As already mentioned, it’s rare for anyone to cross the rocky plain.«
»My name is Adar, and I came here to look for the priestess Maioshan.«
Adar noticed all those present flinchings and staring at him in disbelief as he pronounced her name. The woman had turned pale and dropped her wooden spoon. Now she hectically picked it up and wiped it with a damp cloth. »By the Stone Dagger and the Holy Silver Cup, he seeks the priestess of the Brown,« she whispered.
Ized- the Ancestors Page 22
