The Olvion Reality (The Chronicles of Olvion Book 1)

by Larry Robbins

  He then pointed back to me. “Tag-gar.”

  I shook my head. “No. Taggart” I said, carefully enunciating both syllables.

  “Tag-gar”.

  Okay, I decided I would work on this later. For right now I was Tag-gar. I absently began to pet Tinker, prompting another soft purr. This put my new best buddy Vynn back into a renewed state of wonder. He leaned slightly forward and spoke, not to me but to Tinker.

  In my head I experienced another of what I had come to refer to as a ‘realization’, which seemed to happen each time Tinker reached out to me and my subconscious mind. I heard no clear words like just before the battle with the grey people but I did get a feeling that I should explain who I was and how I’d gotten there. I knew Vynn could not understand me so I really didn’t get the point. But what the hell, it couldn’t hurt anything and we were going nowhere until the little lady revived anyway.

  I looked at the man and said “I really don’t know how I got here. I woke up one day and found myself here. I am from another place, maybe even another world.”

  It seemed that a nod of the head meant the same thing here as back home. Vynn nodded and looked pensive. The only reason for that action would be that he had received a realization from Tinker. As if my life hadn’t been confusing enough lately, it now appeared that my little Tinker was capable of interpreting thoughts as well as transmitting them.

  I would have enjoyed pondering longer on this latest development but the woman behind us moaned and began to move her legs. Vynn went to her and offered her a drink from the bucket, lifting her head gently. She accepted, draining the ladle and indicating a desire for more. When she finished she exchanged words with the young man by her side. Eventually she must have asked him something about me because he made his reply and inclined his head in my direction. I heard the name Tag-gar being used. She raised herself up on one elbow to look at me, then spoke. I confess that I was more interested in what was exposed when she raised up than her words. When I could not reply to her questions she beckoned for me to come closer.

  I picked Tinker up and struggled to my feet, favoring my wounded leg. This earned me raised eyebrows from the young woman. I carried my little companion with me as I approached. My index finger scratched Tinker under the chin and she loved it, purring loudly. When I was close enough I knelt stiffly on one knee beside her.

  “I hope you’re feeling better.” I said.

  Instead of indicating that she did not understand the language I was speaking she shot an astonished look at Tinker. There was a mixture of fear and wonder in her eyes. Vynn laid a hand on her shoulder and said something to her that calmed her. She was obviously pondering something. Then she looked at me and smiled. That was when I realized how beautiful she was. Her hair was long and dark brown, almost to the point of being black. Her complexion, though somewhat sunburnt, was like a dark tan, and she had high cheekbones and a beautifully dainty jawline. Her eyes, like those of her fellow survivor, were a deep brown. She conferred briefly with her friend again, then turned to Tinker and spoke. In my mind the words formed very clearly:

  “Are you the legend?”

  As you might imagine, my reactions to that occurrence were many and varied. First, I was now absolutely certain about Tinker’s psychic abilities. What little doubt I had been harboring was washed away completely. There was simply no reason to continue denying the obvious. Second, what the hell did she mean by her comment? Legend? What legend? Third, I was delighted that I would be able to communicate with these people with the help of my incredible little pal.

  But under the circumstances I would have preferred to leave this blood-spattered camp, putting distance between us and this bloodstained place. My unease at possibly being found by friends of the grey-skinned beasts was still very much in my mind. But the two people I had discovered did not seem to be eager to move. Surely if there were any great urgency to run and hide they would be trying to do so. Especially after what they had evidently been through. So I calmed my fears a bit and decided to get a better grasp of my new circumstances. I tried to squat down next to the young woman again but the pain in my thigh was becoming too great. The man, Vynn, came over and helped me lower myself to the ground. I was a little embarrassed to need the help. Call it manly pride. Once settled I turned back to her. Vynn had now sat beside her and was listening intently to us.

  Tinker seemed to realize my need to communicate further. She crawled out of my lap and stationed herself between us, raised up high on her rear legs. Her head swiveled in my direction.

  “I don’t know what you mean by legend,” I said. Seconds later she smiled and looked in my eyes. She spoke and in my head I heard a voice, an actual woman’s voice as Tinker shifted her gaze back to the female.

  “Forgive me,” The woman’s voice said. “I had forgotten. The legend appears with no recollection of past or knowledge of purpose.”

  The manner in which I received these psychic emissions from Tinker was astonishing. When the woman spoke my ears heard her actual voice using her language. But simultaneously in my mind I was able to hear the same voice using my language. It was mindboggling. And wonderful.

  “Well that’s almost my situation,” I answered, “I remember my past but I sure don’t know my purpose here.”

  Vynn leaned over to whisper something in her ear. She smiled again, putting her hand up to cover her mouth. It was a very shy and endearing action. I couldn’t help but notice how pretty her exposed shoulders were as she held the skin pelt in front of her with one hand. She spoke again.

  “Forgive me again, I have not offered names. I am Dwan Ca’ Ayla. I am a healer. This is Vynn Da’ Olinn, warrior of Olvion. I…we… are in obligation to you Tag-Gar.”

  Two days ago I was naked and kneeling in the dust alone and crying. Now I was crouched before a beautiful woman, having survived a medieval sword fight and having a conversation through the telepathic services of a little white animal. My head was swimming. Once more I started to correct her over the pronunciation of my name. But then I stopped. It really didn’t seem that important at the moment. Besides, I was in a different world, maybe I needed a different name.

  I made a waving away motion. “There is no obligation. I’m just happy to see other people. I was beginning to think I was here all by myself. But if you really feel obligated maybe you could answer some questions for me?”

  I got another look at that dazzling smile.

  “I will answer all that I am capable of, Tag-Gar. But first, let me obey my oath and treat the wounds you have suffered.” She opened the leather bag I’d found and began removing some of the small jars. “We can talk while I work”.

  Dwan took the clothing from the bag and mimed for Vynn and me to turn around so she could dress. I admit I was hard pressed not to sneak a peek but, with great restraint, I conducted myself as a gentleman.

  When she was done Dwan began the task of acquainting me with the realities of my new home. While we spoke back and forth through Tinker she worked on my wounds. With Vynn’s assistance she removed my vest, tunic and belt. I’d gotten a shallow slice on my side along the ribcage. It was not serious but it bled a lot. She stitched it using a needle from the packet in her bag while I tried to bear the pain in silence. There was a bruise on my back where the war hammer had struck. There was not much to do there except rub a kind of salve on it. The pain began to ease almost at once. The only wound that approached being serious was the one in my thigh. The knife blade had penetrated several inches and the pain in that area was significant. Dwan pulled my trousers down with no trace of embarrassment to examine the injury. She stuffed some jellied concoction into the lips of the wound then stitched it closed. She definitely had a delicate touch. She pulled a soft woven cloth from the bag and used it like a bandage. After helping me pull my pants back up she used another needle and thread to repair the tear in the trousers.

  While we talked Vynn began gathering objects from the camp, putting them into a pile. He seemed
to have overcome the exhaustion he had been showing earlier. He armed himself with a sword and lance, looking at me with an expression that seemed to be asking permission to do so, as if I might resent the action. I smiled to reassure him. He found a sheath for the sword and tied it to his waist. He then started dragging bodies away from the camp and over to the trash dump. I started to rise as if to help but he motioned that I was to remain seated.

  The story Dwan told was amazing and scary. Olvion was the name of this world and also the name of one of four large kingdoms on the continent of Maltania. The kingdom sat in a huge valley between the Hounds Teeth and Kneeling Warrior mountain ranges. This location made it the most remote of all the kingdoms and also the most important. The other three kingdoms were all on the coast of a huge ocean. The only way to reach them was to go between those two mountain ranges. So Olvion was the protector of the ‘Lion’s Road’ as it was called. Any force intending to attack the Coastal Kingdoms must first attack and overcome Olvion’s defenses or approach them from the ocean which had never happened. No one knew what, if anything, lay beyond the sea. An enemy might be able to fight their way around the Olvion stronghold but no military commander would leave such a dangerous fortification behind it, inviting a rear assault.

  Olvion was protected by its own troops and those of the other three kingdoms, Aspell, Archer’s Gate and Northland. All of these troops were under the command of Olvion’s King Zander. Zander was in the eighth year of his second ten-year term. Theirs was a complicated system of government with monarchs actually being elected by the people and a Parliament to represent specific areas of the kingdom. Once elected, a good king could serve for his entire life if he had the people behind him and kept being re-elected. Dwan strongly suspected this would be the case with Zander. He was smart, kind and an excellent politician.

  I would note here that, when I use terms such as ‘year’, ‘king’, ‘mountains’, etc., I am using the names by which I knew them in my former life, their “Earth” names. The local population had their own terms for things such as the complete rotation of the planet around their (presumed) Red Dwarf sun. But to use the Olvioni names in a document such as this would be confusing and meaningless.

  Anyway, there are two major species in this world, Humans and what are referred to as Grey Ones or simply Greys. The Greys were regarded by some as human and by others as less than that. I could see the reason for the confusion. This species wore little clothing, used weapons and were obviously more intelligent than other animals but their apparent lack of empathy and cannibalistic tendencies indicated an absence of humanity. They did not appear to have a soul. According to Dwan, they had first appeared over two hundred years ago with huge raiding parties coming over a third huge mountain range at the eastern edge of Olvion’s territory. These were called the Grey Mountains, obviously because they were the home of the sub-humans. They set about slaughtering and devouring the occupants of the outlying Olvion farms and settlements. There was a great war that stretched many years. Ausloe, the reigning king of Olvion at that time, supported by troops from the other three kingdoms, fought valiantly but humans eventually found themselves on the edge of genocide. Then, The Legend had appeared. No one knew from where he had come, but he was always accompanied by a Child of the Mountains which interpreted his odd language. He was a giant of a man and a powerful warrior whose presence and effectiveness on the battlefield gave other warriors courage. Slowly the tide of the war began to change. The invaders were driven back to the mountains. In a final great battle, King Ausloe was killed but the Legend rallied the warriors. Shouting the words “Ausloe” and “Olvion”, the newly energized warriors drove forward slaying thousands. The rest of the invading horde eventually lost heart and escaped back into the mountains.

  No one recalled what happened to The Legend after that. He was asked to be King of Olvion but refused. There were stories that he simply disappeared, walking out into the wilderness. Others said he took a beautiful woman as his mate and lived out his life peacefully by the shore in the kingdom of Northland. But it was said by the old ones that he would return if he was needed.

  No more was heard of the Grey Ones until five years previous to my arriving here. Once more they poured out of the mountains, razing villages and slaughtering man, woman and child.

  King Zander gathered his people behind the walls of The Stronghold. This was apparently an impressive and ancient construct that ran between the mountain ranges and blocked the center of Lion’s Road. He then rode out with a thousand warriors to confront the invaders. Attempts at negotiation were ended before they began. There was a battle. Zander’s forces prevailed but it was a costly victory. The ferocity of the Greys was terrible to behold. The human forces, true to their training and pride, engaged the Greys one-on-one. They paid an expensive price to learn that these bestial killers were stronger and more ruthless than any human adversary.

  After the battle Zander established outposts leaving soldiers there to keep watch for more of the Greys descending from the mountains into Olvion territory. It wasn’t long before signal fires announced the arrival of new raiders.

  And so had begun the war that had lasted some five years. Olvion, reinforced by warriors from Aspell, Northland and Archer’s Gate, had so far been able to hold the Lion’s Road. They had scored small but important victories over the grey aggressors. The beasts usually did not usually attack in great numbers, preferring to engage in smaller attacks and ambushes. But that was changing and there appeared to be no end to them. They flowed over the mountains into Olvion’s green and yellow valley by the thousands, breaking up into smaller raiding parties. The king was forced to divide his forces and seek out the individual groups of attackers. The rate of attrition for Zander’s warriors was now becoming a concern. If the flow of intruders into the valley did not diminish soon there could be real disaster ahead.

  At this point in the dialogue Dwan looked at me with an expression of confusion on her face.

  “Tell me, Tag-Gar,” she asked, “How did you do it?” When it was obvious that I did not understand the question she continued. “The Greys. How did you defeat them? It is now accepted that the best way to overcome them is by engaging them two-to-one. Only a few of our strongest warriors, Zander among them, are able to stand against them alone. Yet you walk into their camp without fear and slay a tenfold. You saved my life and that of Vynn. If you are not The Legend, how was this possible?”

  I was embarrassed at the question. To be honest I didn’t know how I’d done it. I tried to explain it to her as best I could.

  “To me, the things you call “Grey Ones” were not very strong or quick. More importantly, they were not very smart, either. But even with all that they were very close to doing me in. You say I killed a tenfold. I didn’t. I killed nine. You saved my life by killing the tenth. You are the reason I am still alive. Don’t forget that.”

  Dwan smiled and looked down. Tinker had moved closer to her now, squatting by her foot. Dwan slowly extended her hand and tentatively touched the little animal. Instead of retreating, Tinker moved closer, nuzzling the woman’s delicate hand. The delight was obvious on Dwan’s face.

  “What can you tell me about her?” I asked, nodding at Tinker.

  She looked up from stroking the white fur with her finger.

  “She is a Child of the Mountain. Some think they do not exist but my mother told me she saw one once. They live in the same mountain ranges that the Grey Ones cross to invade our kingdom. We have been told by our old ones that they have magical powers. I know now that this is true. I hear your words in another tongue with my ears, but my mind hears them in my language. I’m not sure this is magic. But it is certainly wonderful. And unlike anything I have ever known.”

  “She seems much more intelligent than any other animal I’ve ever seen,” I observed.

  Dwan nodded. “Stories say…at least some stories… that they are as intelligent as we are. Others say they have only as much knowledge as our ch
ildren. That is why they are called Children of the Mountains. When The Legend appeared he spoke to our people through one of them. A white one”

  “Aren’t all of them white?” I asked.

  Dwan shook her head. “In the entire history of our people the Children that have been seen were all brown. Only the Child that spoke for The Legend was said to be white. Which is one more reason for me to believe that you are he.”

  I didn’t really have an answer for that. As the back-and-forth waned Dwan began poking into the leather satchel I’d found. Apparently it had been hers and was purloined by one of her captors. She pulled out some of the jars and small clay vessels, uncorking them to sniff the contents.

  When she became distracted by taking inventory of her medical supplies I hefted myself up, favoring my wounded leg and stretched. Tinker looked content to stay with Dwan so I started helping Vynn drag the bodies of the fallen Greys to the trash heap. It was unpleasant work but he had already finished most of it by the time I joined in. Vynn then involved himself in digging a grave for the remains of their fallen comrade. I decided to make another inspection of the camp, picking up the few things I thought would be useful to us. I found an especially evil-looking dagger that I slid into my belt. Also discovered was a smaller sword which was held in a beautifully-carved wooden sheath. The steel was of an excellent quality, not the lumpy, greyish type exhibited by the weapons of the Grey Ones. I slung it over my shoulder, intending it for Dwan. I didn’t know what to expect in the coming days but I would feel better knowing we were all armed.

  When we were done Vynn and I returned to where Dwan and Tinker were still sitting in the shade. Somewhat to my delight, Tinker leapt from her lap and scampered up my leg and onto my shoulder. I gave her a scratch and she purred. I turned to Vynn.

  “So, Vynn, you’re the warrior. What should we do here? Should we put some distance between us and this place in case there are more of these Greys about or should we rest here tonight and get an early start in the morning? For that matter…where should we go?”