The Banished Lands- The Complete Series

by Benjamin Mester

  Conversation waned as Straiah gave each their portion of meat, King Froamb greedily devouring his own while praising his cooks. By the time it fell to carve himself a slice of savory meat, performers on lively instruments began to fill the hall with a festive tune. As he daintily wiped the corners of his mouth, a slow smile grew on the king's face and he cast his gaze toward Estrien.

  “Though it is my kingly right to have any fair maiden to dance with, I hesitate to give those of more feeble courage the time to find their strength.”

  The words escaped his lips just as Straiah lifted the first bite of food. But clenching his jaw, he set the fork down and arose, extending his hand to Estrien. Estrien took his hand and arose, bowing to the king but was suddenly tugged away mid-motion to the amusement of all the watchers. But none more than King Froamb, who turned to the rest, laughing loudly and slapping his hand on the table.

  “Finally the fool has taken the reins!”

  Straiah sighed as the pair took their place among the dancers.

  “That man might be the end of me.”

  “All your life, you've survived insurmountable odds against an unconquerable foe,” Estrien smiled. “But a few days of lavish comfort in a castle might be the end of you?”

  Straiah nodded sheepishly until another eruption of loud laughter from King Froamb drew their attention and a subsequent joyous laugh from each. It was truly a perfect day. Straiah wouldn't change a thing. Though he barely had a moment with Estrien since arriving, everything was perfect now.

  He still couldn't believe a woman like her wanted to be with a man like him. He had never been lucky in love and had resigned himself to the fate of the solitary. But he had taken to her so quickly. There was something in her manner that drew him...caused him to risk the fate of the world for her safety.

  But the lively song ended and strains of ethereal notes now dropped lightly from the once fervent strings. She pressed her head to his chest and an unexpected chill ran down his spine as though a cold breeze had just blown past him.

  “Your hands are cold,” she commented.

  “I told you this place was trying to kill me.”

  As the song ended, a hand suddenly dropped onto Straiah's shoulder.

  “The masterful elegance of such dancing, fair maiden, has rarely been seen in this great hall,” the king said. “I beg you for the next dance.”

  Glancing at Straiah and smiling at the king's indifference to Straiah's presence, she nodded her head in acceptance. Straiah obliged him and turned to leave, but noticed Sheabor making his way to stone pavilion where the Athel sat overlooking the city.

  Outside, in the darkness, the music trailed away. The moon had already risen to its pinnacle and the wind was blowing up cold from the south. Sheabor was at the edge of the platform, standing near the Athel stone, lost in the abyss of his thoughts. Straiah came up next to him, and for many moments, the two stood silently facing the plains.

  “You haven't been sleeping,” Straiah said, which drew a sidelong glace from his friend.

  “Just old tracking habits,” Straiah said. “I wasn’t spying.”

  Sheabor nodded and smiled.

  “Something must be on your mind.”

  “There's still a lot of planning to do. I've been thinking about how best to unify this continent.”

  But Straiah was struck by a pang of guilt. He knew full well that it wasn't simply planning for the future that kept his best friend up in the midnight watches.

  “I'm sorry I didn't get back before Pallin and Durian left from Ogrindal,” Straiah said. “I hope we haven't lost too much time in coming here.”

  Sheabor nodded slowly at his friend's apology, knowing what he was really apologizing for – that because Straiah had used the hammer to rescue Estrien and Suriya, they hadn't all been able to flee with Durian and Pallin to the Banished Lands.

  “We'll make for Ogrindal first thing in the morning. With luck, we'll reach Pallin and Durian before they make it far into Kester.”

  “That's good,” Straiah replied. “I don't think I could handle another day of lively King Froamb.”

  “What do you mean?” Sheabor asked. “He's coming with us. I thought you knew that.”

  “What?”

  “He didn't tell you?”

  Straiah sighed.

  “Good King Froamb has the notion that Ogrindal is somehow a part of his kingdom. He's coming with us to greet his potential new subjects.”

  “I bet Gwaren will have a thing or two to say about that.”

  “Should be interesting to watch.”

  In Ogrindal

  The orangy petals of dawn were peeling opening one by one, as sunlight slowly filtered through the trees, waking the city Ogrindal. But two individuals had no intention of getting out of bed. These hopes, however, were quickly drowned in a sudden drenching of water. In unison, the brothers, each with a graceless bound, found themselves out of bed and stumbling toward a chuckling assailant.

  The instigator, seeing their intent, stepped to one side and lightly shoved Baron into Blair, knocking both to the floor where they lay breathless for many moments.

  “Is that all you've got?” the man asked, still chuckling. “How do you ever expect to survive these perilous times?”

  “By getting enough sleep,” Baron groaned.

  “Sleep!” the man exclaimed. “It's fifteen minutes past sunrise already.”

  Blair let out a groan to Baron.

  “Finally, I've found someone I like less than you!”

  The man threw his head back in laughter and Baron, seeing his opportunity, jumped to his feet and hooked him around the waist, bringing him to the floor with the assistance of Blair. The man laughed heartily at his own misfortune, water dripping on his face from the hair of Baron and Blair. But at length they relented and stood to their feet.

  The man's name was Dahlgrin and he was the twin's guardian while in Ogrindal. After the battle with Malfur, Baron and Blair had asked to stay behind in Ogrindal to help repair the city. Though they didn't know it, they were actually a sort of ransom. The elders of Ogrindal had yet to make a decision concerning the fate of Gwaren, and in lieu of imprisoning him, they gave him leave to travel with Sheabor, as long as the twins remained in Ogrindal.

  Dahlgrin led them wherever they wanted to go, except in their request to get a glimpse of the Night Wanderers. But they did learn from Dahlgrin that a ceremony for the burial of King Behlyn, whose tomb had been under the Lorimor tree, was happening in the next couple of days. The twins might get their chance to see them after all.

  “Hurry up and get ready,” Dahlgrin said. “I want to take you somewhere special today.”

  “What about the work?” Baron asked.

  “It's not going anywhere.”

  Baron and Blair had been working daily for nearly two weeks, along with the rest of the city. Winter was approaching fast, and many homes had been destroyed in the fire.

  “Dress warmly,” Dahlgrin said, the door closing behind him.

  Within minutes, the pair emerged into the brightening glow of dawn, the lanes already crowded with persons off to meet their tasks. Baron spent enough time watching them come and go that it caught Blair's attention. Blair followed Baron's line of sight until his eyes landed on a girl in her early twenties, beautiful, with long locks of brown hair, and undoubtedly the same hazel eyes so common in Ogrindal. After the girl passed beyond sight Baron turned to Blair and just shook his head, a slow smile ending in a prolonged sigh.

  “Speechless?” Blair said in wonder. “Now that’s quite a feat. I need to find this girl and bribe her to come with us wherever we go.”

  “Don’t worry, little brother. I’m working on that part.”

  Blair chuckled. Baron was always making bold declarations. But something was different now. Thrust into the middle of a conflict twelve centuries in the making, the two brothers from Suriya had matured more this last month than anything a former year had produced.

  “W
hat do you think of her?” Baron asked.

  “Well, I barely caught a glimpse of her.”

  “But you’ve seen her before,” Baron said. “The first night we arrived, she came into the meeting hall briefly and spoke with one of the elders.”

  “Oh,” said Blair. “I guess I don’t remember.”

  Baron smirked.

  “That answers my question then.”

  “I may have been somewhat preoccupied with the imminent threat of death.”

  Baron laughed.

  “Do you know anything about her?” Blair asked.

  “Not much,” Baron replied. “I’ve seen her a lot around town but haven't talked with her. She’s cleaning up the rubble that fell from the Ruhkan Mountains, I think.”

  Suriyan girls had often caught Baron's eye in the past, and little would stop him from making an introduction and a fool of himself in the process. This was the most reserved that Blair had ever seen him.

  “Well I suppose with us leaving soon, it would be a stupid idea to talk with her,” Blair offered.

  Baron turned to him with a glimmer in his eye.

  “That settles it then. I’m doing it.”

  The old Baron wasn’t completely gone after all.

  “Shall we be off then?” Dahlgrin asked, extending his hand toward the looming mountains.

  The mountains were ominous in form and breadth, rising vertically many hundreds of paces over the city. The twins thought of Pallin and Durian who only days earlier had climbed the range in hopes of reaching the lands of Kester on the other side. Had they made it?

  The three set off toward the rear of the town, a place they'd seldom visited. At length, they came to an old, weathered wooden post stuck fast in the ground. The mountain stretched above as far as eye could see, partially obscured in morning mist. Dahlgrin turned to the mountain and pulled himself up the sheer face, groping about for handholds. The twins were taken aback. Neither of them were by any means mountaineers.

  “It gets easier,” Dahlgrin said.

  “After you, little brother,” Baron said.

  Blair smirked and grabbed hold of the rock, testing different spots, but finding nothing reasonably sound, and simply pulled with all his might, hoping for the best.

  “You should have talked with the girl this morning,” Blair said and struggled to ascend even a few feet up. “I’m not so sure we’re coming back from this hike.”

  Baron chuckled and shook his head, having never been fond of heights. But Dahlgrin was right, after a brief vertical climb, the angle of ascent leveled off, and the trio moved forward at more of a walk than a climb. And soon, the low-lying mist gave way to the bright blue sky, offering a wonderful view of the city below. The trio set off along a navigable path, turning round a bend and away from the city.

  “They say there’s a city buried somewhere in the Ruhkan Mountain range – a city from the First Age,” Dahlgrin began. “It was built just like Eulsiphion, with stones that show the hearts of those who dwell there. It was said to be a gift for those whose descendants now live in Melanor, who call things to life which have no breath.”

  Dahlgrin stopped short as he neared an obstacle in their path. It was a boulder than seemed to have come down recently – perhaps even in the recent war with Malfur. But they navigated it and moved on.

  “What happened to the city?” Baron asked.

  “It was destroyed,” Dahlgrin continued. “During the great cataclysm that tore the world in two, the quaking and tremors shook the ground with such violence that a section of the mountain broke off and landed on the city, burying it. They say that the people living there let out such a cry of angst that the stones of the city came alive, filled with a dark malice. Many have tried to find the hidden city. There have always been rumors of its location to the north. But none have seen it and returned to tell their tale.”

  Baron and Blair marveled at the story, and for many long minutes, there was silence. It was such a wonder to them, the wide world. Having grown up in a simple fishing village, neither could have dreamed that the rest of the world was filled with such magic and mystery. They continued on, but after a few minutes of walking, the pathway seemed to end in a broad cleft. Dahlgrin stopped and turned his gaze outward.

  They too, in like manner, gazed out over the sweeping landscape. It was a beautiful scene, the forest of Thay Iphilus stretching out toward the distant horizon and the plains of the east glimmering faintly of gold. Neither of the brothers had ever seen such a sight, and Baron had the distinct sense that, had he grown up with a view like this to gaze upon, a deeper reflection would have arisen over his life and a greater confidence to strive in the direction of his dreams. There was something perfect here, something indefinable and rare that led his mind to wander about a sphere of dreams larger than those possible down in the civilized world below.

  “On a clear summer day, one can see all the way to Eulsiphion,” Dahlgrin said.

  Baron let his gaze wander slowly, taking in the sweeping panorama of the landscape. But something caught the corner of his eye, a distant object of some kind, and it almost seemed to glimmer, like sunlight off a window. Turning his attention, the object had vanished again.

  Baron turned to ask Dahlgrin what it might be, but as he did so the object seemed to flash out of the corner of his eye again. Glancing a second time, it had likewise disappeared. But then, all at once, the world seemed suddenly to spin until, only an instant later, he felt the sensation of falling.

  Sounds grew dull, and he heard muffled yells. Someone was calling his name. Instinctively, he held his hands in front of his face. They hit something that felt soft and his body came to a halt. Then things went black.

  Baron awoke to a strong tug on his shirt. Opening his eyes to Blair's frantic face, his heart began to pound at the memory of his fall. But he sat up in surprise under his own power.

  “Are you hurt badly?” Dahlgrin questioned.

  Baron lifted his arms and hands and looked himself over. Beyond a few cuts and scrapes, he didn’t feel anything wrong.

  “I feel fine,” he responded. “What happened?”

  “I don’t know,” Blair said. “You suddenly fell from the ledge.”

  Blair motioned with his hands to the ledge twenty feet above. The sight sent a chill up Baron’s spine.

  “I fell from all the way up there? But how…”

  He could see in their faces they harbored the same thoughts and he tried to remember back to what had happened before he passed out.

  “It was a strange sensation,” Baron said. “I remember falling into these rocks. But it didn't feel like rocks. It felt like clay or something soft.”

  Blair glanced to Dahlgrin to see if that made sense. But Dahlgrin still studied Baron, pulling on his arms in disbelief that he had survived unharmed.

  “I saw something glimmer in the forest,” Baron continued, standing to his feet. “It seemed to flash just before I fell.”

  The statement struck Dahlgrin and he turned to Blair.

  “I didn't see anything,” Blair said.

  “It happens sometimes,” Dahlgrin concluded. “The height and thin air can cause a sudden collapse. I think it’s time we head back.”

  Dahlgrin moved off, climbing toward the main path. Blair followed, but Baron knelt down and ran his hand along the jagged rock that stopped his fall. How had he not been injured? It didn't make sense. He picked up one of the loose stones about his feet and then set off after Blair.

  Back on the main pathway, his eyes couldn’t help but wander to the place where he had seen the glimmering object. All was still again and soon they came round a bend and out of sight, returning to the city.

  “I need to report what happened,” Dahlgrin said. “I'll seek the elders for counsel on what you may have seen in the forest.”

  Then Dahlgrin set off.

  “I guess it's back to work then,” Baron said. “But I'm starving. Let's get some breakfast.”

  “Are you sure you'r
e feeling alright?” Blair asked.

  “Never better.”

  But Blair gazed at him warily. Baron laughed and slapped him on the shoulder.

  “Come on, little brother.”

  The two returned home and made a bite to eat before joining one of the work sites. Baron labored the full of the day with little ill effect, and Baron was convinced that the heights, combined with the lack of food, not only caused his collapse, but also his hallucination of the gleaming object. At day's end, they ambled with the rest of the city toward the evening meal until Dahlgrin came to find them.

  “How are you?” Dahlgrin asked, while lifting Baron's arms to check for swelling or bruising.

  “I could do without the prodding,” Baron said, pulling his arms back to his sides. “But I feel perfectly normal.”

  “And you?” Dahlgrin asked Blair.

  “Me?” Blair asked. “What do you mean?”

  “Has anything like this ever happened to either of you before?”

  “No,” Baron replied. “But we don't routinely climb up deadly mountains right at the break of dawn.”

  “What about any other twins in Suriya?”

  “We don't know any other twins,” Blair replied. “Why?”

  Dahlgrin thought for a moment.

  “Ogrindal is an old city. We trace our heritage from just after the Great War. In those days, some of our people still carried their powers, like you have seen with those from Melanor. Quickly it began to vanish, until none any longer could manipulate the trees and wood of the forest. But for some reason beyond our knowledge, every so often, a pair of twins would be born who still seemed to have some remnant of the powers of the First Age. But since they had no one to teach them, the skills never fully manifested. Twins are the only ones in Ogrindal who ever seem to develop abilities.”

  “What are you talking about?” asked Baron. “What abilities?”

  “I don’t know. It’s just strange,” Dahlgrin continued. “You said that the rocks felt almost soft and pliable when you landed on them, almost as though you manipulated them to cushion your fall. You may have the heritage of Cavanah, the Builders – Sheabor's people. Perhaps, because of the sudden danger, your ability manifested to save your life.”