~~~~
II
Master’s Message
It was strange following this Man Merlin, the old and wise, powerful teacher of the Knights of the Round Table. It seemed as if he was lost. Not in the sense that he did not know which direction to go in, but it was as if he was retracing a path he had taken, struggling to piece together the road from fragments of a long forgotten memory. He would take a path then backtrack and try another. His movements were erratic and obviously difficult to follow and impossible to predict. He stayed clear of the roads that ran through the Empire and the Ulin planes. Rol wondered just how old he was. And how these lands must have been so many years ago. Most, if not all, of the villages that made up the Empire had been there for the best part of ten generations, some growing some not. In the more northerly territory north of the Fortress of Mielach there were younger villages and towns spawning from the good trade with the Dwarves. Rol had learned from his master the history of these lands but that history was only from the days of Arthur and Camelot. This Merlin had been a wielder, warrior, healer and teacher long before Arthur was even born. Rol had kept his distance and as an added precaution left his fifty kinsfolk a number of miles away. They were all skilled trackers but with their target’s random behaviour it was for the best.
Merlin was heading south now and unless Rol was wrong, he was heading straight for the Han Bridge. Maybe this Merlin was aware of the young healer within the isolated southern villages. Rol dismissed the thought. There were over twenty towns and villages between here and the Han Bridge. It was more likely that he was heading to one of them, or at least that is what Rol tried to convince himself. He doubted that Merlin knew they were following. Distance was obviously a factor and in no way was Rol more powerful, but his skills in detecting magic were far stronger. Rol slowly made his way back to his brothers keeping a strong lock on the powerful wielder who now purposefully headed south. They had melted into the woods and were completely out of sight even to Rol. A slight grin pulled at his lips at his brothers’ skills.
‘It is I!’ Rol boomed. Four appeared instantly out of the brush.
‘He is heading south towards the bridge, we follow at a steady pace, no sound and do not allow yourself to be seen.’ Rol commanded.
All who were hiding appeared and started south. The passage south was across open plains and there were a number of towns that had high watchtowers that allowed them to see close to sixty miles in all directions. A mass of fifty Elemamtels would easily be seen. Darz had taught them the skills of bending light so that they could not be seen by ordinary folk and it would be unlikely that a wielder would take to standing upon a watchtower. The smaller villages mostly skirted the R’hop River, but the towns were further into the plains taking advantage of the lush ground for farming and herding. Some of these towns had sprung up around natural springs that were now dug out wells that supplied the town with safe, clean drinking water for all to use. Rol was born in one of these towns. But those days of his life were forgotten memories that were so incomplete he doubted whether they were real at all. He somewhat envied Man. They were not powerful or overly intelligent. But they were strong. He had seen Men outnumbered and outmatched in every way, stand their ground, fight and die in the pursuit of freedom, or to save another. Rol was no stranger to fear. Darz used it constantly as a way to control but courage was an unknown emotion to him. He had no need of it. Even when battling Elemamtels or Men within the walls of Heeden. Some had been larger, more skilled and more powerful then he. He had lost a number of battles but each time on rematch he had been successful. He had fought a few times within battalions of Men, but fighting Men in such a battle was not too difficult. However he had never crossed blades or fists with a wielder or any being vastly superior to himself, with the exception of Lancelot of course.
They were passing Jessuin, the second largest and second furthest of the five towns that surrounded Heeden. Rol had surmised that Merlin must have been heading to the southern villages, but he was still being erratic. Jessuin’s high hill top location meant it had little need for fortification like Heeden and Mielach. Its watchtowers allowed them to see for many leagues. He instructed his Elemamtels accordingly. Moments after they had confirmed his orders he stumbled, falling out of his light bending bubble. His master’s voice had powered into his mind. It was not the first time he had done so and Rol found this means of communication difficult and demanding, but each time he had it was to impart important news or instructions. Rol found a soft patch of grass that was not water sodden. Kneeling he pulled out a small stone cauldron from his bag and emptied half his water skin into it. Placing his hand to his forehead and the other to the surface of the water Rol waited. It did not take long before Darz had homed in on Rol and his face rippled into existence on the surface of the water.
‘Master’ Rol muttered and bowed his head.
‘Rol, Jul is dead.’ Darz spoke through the ripples of the water.
‘WHAT?’ Rol had shouted in anger.
‘I have tried many times to contact him as I am contacting you now. Even if an Elemamtel closes themselves to me I can still feel them. I cannot feel him or find him in my viewer.’ There was a measure of pain in Darz’s voice that Rol had never witnessed before.
Rol was seething, Jul was a gifted tracker, in fact Rol had been going to recommend for him to have the same training he had.
‘I command you to find him or return his body to Heeden. Put whomever you wish in command of your group but make them know that if they fail to hide themselves, Merlin will destroy them’.
‘I will run with all speed master.’ Rol declared loudly.
‘You will need to, winter will prevent your passage south very soon.’ Rol bowed his head as Darz’s face rippled and faded from the cauldron of water.
‘Reebon.’ Rol called ignoring his own orders not to be seen or heard. He appeared almost out of nowhere.
‘I will be leaving you, you are in command now, do not be seen or felt, if you do Merlin will slay you where you stand. Stay hidden to all, understand?’
Reebon nodded not liking what he saw in his commander’s eyes.
‘What has happened?’ He asked wearily. Rol cleared his throat.
‘Jul has been murdered, I go to find out who, how and why.’ Reebon nodded, struggling to hide his own anger at the news of Jul’s demise.
Rol unwisely flipped over the water from the cauldron instead of drinking it but anger had consumed him. He replaced it into his bag, strapped it firmly around him and sprang into a run. It was late afternoon barely an hour of sunlight remained so Rol used his anger to fuel his magic and quicken his pace. He ran hard trying desperately to rid himself of the thought that he had sent Jul to his death. Darz’s decision to send Jul had been on his recommendation but that mattered little. Jul had been struggling, any fool could have seen that, but he was the most astute at detecting magic other that Rol himself. Going over it again and again in his mind there was no other he could have sent in his stead, even if he had not recommended Jul it was almost certain that Darz would have chosen him anyway. This had been his decision and he would have to learn to live with it.
He ran all through the night and the following morning, stopping only to relieve himself and drink from his water skin. It was dangerously empty but the R’hop River was only half a days’ travel away. Rol had grown accustomed to being on his own and with this latest quest he was glad of it. Guilt had crept into his psyche and would not clear. The only thought that gave him comfort was the fact that now he would stop at nothing to avenge Jul’s death. He skirted the R’hop River for over three leagues before he found a suitable bank where he could rest and refill his water skin. Rol had many years ago mastered the art of cleaning water using magic, destroying the parasites and microbes that lived within the water. He had often marvelled that without his magical education his knowledge of the natural world would be limited and considered that it was a silver lining to
the cloud that was his conversion into a dark and difficult life.
A stinging wind flew down from the Rubicon Falls as he made his way towards the Han Bridge. There was no one in view, which was not surprising as it was late in the day. Nervousness was creeping in on him. Something told him he would not be fast enough to get past the marshes before winter would flood and freeze them. After a number of calculations Rol was almost certain he would fail to get anywhere near the villages. He could attempt to navigate the Paladin Fields, and the Harana Mountain range. Even with his tracking skills he doubted he could do it. The Paladin Fields were notorious in claiming the lives of Men, Elves and even wielders who tried to navigate them. He also remembered once overhearing Crimson say that the Harana Mountains was the home of one of his kin. As Rol knew it they had not joined with Crimson in the service of Nala-Kahn, but neither had they fought against him. But still it was a road Rol could not take. He had nothing to shelter him from the cold and very few supplies. He did not want to do it but he needed to contact his master.
He waited for Darz to appear in the same cauldron he used only a few days ago. When his master appeared Rol could sense a measure of discomfort from him.
‘Master, I will not make it to the southern villages.’ Darz’s annoyance was obvious but also thankfully not entirely directed at him.
‘Pousin is moored at Heeden. Make your way here. I will pay Pousin and his cut-throats to attack the coastal village to cover your investigation.’ Rol seemed shocked. Darz hated dealing with Men when he had to and Pousin was a Man that even Rol despised.
‘I will be at Heeden within a day, forgive me.’
‘Rol. You are my Elemamtel, my servant, I am your master, but I grow tired of being addressed as such. You would have to displease me greatly before I demand the same show of subservience I expect from the rest of your kin.’ Darz boomed. Rol simply bowed his head unsure what had stirred in his master.
‘Make your best speed so you can rest. Pousin will attack in two days time.’ Darz’s face rippled and disappeared. This time Rol drank the water. Now he could return to Heeden and his kin. He wondered whether Darz had told the rest of them.
Late the following day he walked through the gates of Heeden, which were strangely open, but it was a sight that still warmed his heart. It did not take long to figure why the gates were open. Seven of his kin had arrived and they had been well travelled, their cloth was proof of that.
‘Tod!’ Rol boomed. Tod spun round and embraced Rol. They both had known each other almost all their lives.
‘You look tired. Where are the others?’ Rol said concerned, Tod chuckled.
‘You worry too much.’ Rol smirked.
‘Where are the others?’
‘Eating. We lost the Wielder we were tracking, on the boundary of the Paladin Fields.’ Tod said slowly, obviously concerned how he was going to tell their master. Rol let out a long breath of surprise that they had even thought of venturing anywhere near there. This was too much of a coincidence. It must have been a wielder that had killed Jul, maybe not this one mind, but it must have been one, perhaps his master or student.
‘Eat my friend, then gather everyone in the banqueting hall, I need to tell them something.’
Tod nodded and watched his troubled friend head towards their master’s chambers. Darz was waiting for him.
‘Master.’ Rol muttered.
‘Rol, good, Pousin awaits in the drawing room, a Wielder is with him, he is not a servant of Nala-Kahn but neither is he our enemy.’ Rol understood his master’s words. This Wielder was not someone Nala-Kahn knew of, if he did he would move to acquire his talents or destroy him and for some reason Darz did not wish this to happen. Chances are this Wielder was the reason the Pousin’s cutthroats had been so relentless in recent months. Rol followed Darz into the castle and eventually into the drawing room. The stinking monster of a Man was sitting in one of his master’s favourite chairs something that would anger Darz greatly. He was Captain Pousin. The Wielder stood behind Pousin his hands clasped behind his back. Rol could feel his magic, which was strong; similar to the experienced wielder he had felt in Ne-aan. It was obvious this Man was deadly and Darz was aware of this fact.
‘Ah, so this is our passenger, so why do you wish to travel to the southern villages, Elemamtel? The women there have been unspoilt mostly, but there is a measure of strength amongst them.’ Pousin asked between goblets of wine. Rol looked over to Darz who nodded for him to explain.
‘Aw, look at that Iruc, like a mutt, asking for permission.’ Pousin boomed.
Rol reacted instinctively, using magic he swung one of the many weapons that hung on the walls and smashed it into the side of the Wielder’s face. In the same moment Rol drew his sword and rested the razor sharp blade across Pousin’s neck. Iruc landed in a heap but recovered quickly staring with pure loathing at Rol but unwilling or unable to retaliate. Darz boomed with laughter, pride spreading across his face.
‘I would hate to admit it, but Lancelot has trained him well hasn’t he?’ Crimson said strolling into the room.
Darz glanced at the spectre but in the moment could not be angry with him as he was in agreement. He looked down at the fear-ridden Pousin who had now spilled his wine over himself. He looked pathetic.
‘Yes, Pousin, Rol is my servant, and right now, my servant has a rather powerful sword waiting to slice your throat. And your Wielder, powerful as he is, is unable to protect you.’ Darz added glancing at Iruc.
‘So I think this would be the perfect time to renegotiate.’ Darz muttered, a pleased grin upon his face. Pousin’s eyes flared with rage but he dared not open his mouth.
‘You will be given half of our original agreement and you will leave immediately, am I understood, Captain?’ Darz asked forcefully.
‘I still do not know why I cannot fly Rol south it would be quicker.’ Crimson muttered to Darz as if Pousin and Iruc were not here. Darz was in agreement again with Crimson but Nala-Kahn wanted to use Pousin.
‘The southern villages need to be reminded of the order of things, Pousin you have mine and Nala-Kahn’s leave to do what you wish, AFTER!’ Darz shouted making both Pousin and Iruc recoil.
‘You transport Rol safely, secretly and fully fit, now get out of here, Strem.’ Darz seethed.
The Legend of Alundi - Journey to the Emerald Skull Page 27
