Tossindoo ignored the superstitious rant. “Secure the gates! No one leaves the city until I say otherwise. Search everywhere. We will find this assassin.” His heart was hammering away in his chest. He had to fight to keep his emotions in check. “Once we have examined the bodies thoroughly, prepare them for the ancient cleansing ritual.”
The bodies of the Emperor and his wife, and son, would be placed on a funeral pyre hundreds of feet high, and set ablaze in front of the entire tribe.
A single tear ran down Tossindoo’s stern face. Shanbo had been like a father to him. Tossindoo had been an orphan that was taken into the palace as a child. He excelled in the skills of war, and eventually, through hard work and discipline, was made the High Commander of the Imperial Guard, the personal protector of the Emperor. How could this have happened, how did these assassins get in here without being seen? Tossindoo's mind raced looking for an answer. It seemed impossible. The emperor’s palace was extremely well protected. The Imperial Guards are the finest soldiers in all of Vorea. His eyes widened in shock. No one had reported anything about the princess. Last he heard she had been outside the palace. She could still be alive. His head swung to one of his lieutenants.
"Yoshin, send out men to search for the Princess, quickly. If she still lives, she is in great danger, and outside of the protection of the palace. She is all that is left of the Imperial Family." A deep look of pain ran across Tossindoo's face, he looked back over his shoulder at two of his officers standing behind him. “Find out whom else is dead and who will soon follow for their failure in protecting the emperor!!" The two lieutenants raced off. Tossindoo’s face softened to a look of sorrow. In a whisper, he said to himself. "I will join them in the ceremony of honor."
Eyes of the Seer
Lucian and Eliath strolled through the market in the village of Yavasura. It was the third day of the week and the bazaar was in full swing. People from all over were coming to try to sell their wares. A full spectrum of smells assaulted them as they walked past booths of a variety of foods. Lucian especially liked the garlic sausage links. He always tried to get one when he came to the market. There were different types of ham for sale, some smothered in honey, some in a spicy, thick sauce. There were sweet potato dishes, and stews. Anything you could think to eat was here at the market. The smells of different cooked meats had Lucian putting his nose in the air and breathing in deeply. He spotted the sausage stand on the way to the butcher. He and Eliath both asked for one and the lady selling them looked up and her face broke into a big smile.
"Anything for two strong, handsome, men like yourselves."
Lucian knew the flattery was just a good sales tactic. He was sure that if they were to walk away without paying that she would sound out in alarm for the village guard. He smiled at her and thanked her for the sausages, giving her a few copper coins. It was just about all the money he had. But the butcher would pay well for some of the Fen that he brought. It would be enough money to buy supplies that would last a month.
Aside from the market that took place, Yavasura went mostly unnoticed. It was one of the smaller tribes in the south. They actually had a mix of many tribes living there, so actual, full-blooded Yavasurans, were few and far between. The village had a decent militia but any of the surrounding tribes could route them easily if they so desired. But for the most part they were left alone in peace. Lucian figured that was because of the market, a small version of what Vorea boasted.
The butcher, Leramy, was in the middle of slicing away slabs of meat from a large boar. He had noticed Lucian and Eliath standing there and set down his huge knife. Leramy was a large man, slightly taller than Lucian, but weighing significantly more with rosy plump cheeks and a thick reddish brown beard which sported more hair then his balding scalp. He clasped Lucian’s shoulder with a big meaty hand. "How goes it young Lucian? What have you brought for me today?"
Lucian smiled while he held up the two hind leg sections for the butcher to see, "Only a Fen this time, Master Leramy."
Leramy's eyes lit up and he looked as if he would jump up with glee, almost. It would have been quite the sight, to see the large man do such a thing.
"Only a Fen?” he asked in mock surprise. “Boy, you are the finest hunter I’ve ever known!" He grabbed Lucian by the shoulders shaking him excitedly. "No one has brought in a Fen this year except you, and this is your fourth."
Leramy stared at Lucian with marveled eyes until Lucian’s cheeks started to heat with embarrassment. He was never good at taking compliments.
The rotund butcher then pointed at Eliath. "And don’t think I wouldn’t know that you helped too Eli, you two are the finest pair of hunters in Los, I would bet on it!!"
Eliath bowed in thanks and Leramy let out a deep guttural laugh, "Always a man of few words this one."
He continued to chuckle to himself as he reached back around behind his booth and pulled out a small sack. He stuffed his thick hand inside and pulled out some coins. "You deserve this boy, and if you even think to reject it, I will have to carve you up next!" He scowled hard as he stuck his hand out over Lucian’s open palm and dropped two silver coins into it.
Lucian rocked back on his heels at the sight of the two silver pieces and thought to deny the excessive payment, but one look into Leramy’s eyes told him that the burly man was in no way going to give in, and might even do what he had promised if the gift was rejected.
"My thanks for your generosity,” said Lucian, bowing his head low. “You have been a great friend to my family.”
Leramy waved his hand through the air. "Bah....you, my boy, are the greatest hunter I know, and your parents are wonderful folk. Think nothing of it." He went back to cutting away at the boar. "Now I've got work to do. Tell your mother that my wife looks forward to seeing her on the weeks end."
Lucian bowed again. "I will master Leramy.”
He and Eliath started toward the Chief Counselors home. It was beyond the market near the western edge of the village. They were on the outskirts of the market when Lucian heard the hard footsteps coming at him from behind. He spun around, crouching defensively, but he was not prepared for what hit him.
Gwendaline jumped and landed on Lucian with her legs wrapping around his torso and her arms around his neck in a death lock. He almost fell backwards but steadied himself and began trying to pry the young woman off of him while she planted kisses all over his face. She was a beautiful girl, with long curly blond locks, blue eyes, and a very well developed body. Men all over the village squabbled over her, and she was infatuated with Lucian. After attempting to pry her off did not work, he finally convinced her to get down by telling her that his back was hurting.
She hopped down and stood with her hands on her hips, cutting him a glare. She wore an exquisitely tailored dress of a light blue color, made from a very thin fabric that flowed over her curves, heightening her beauty and highlighting her eyes. Glimmering silver bracelets covered both wrists and an expensive pearl necklace hung down to her breasts which were only slightly covered by the low cut dress. She was indeed beautiful, he thought.
Lucian changed the subject. "Well met Gwen, where is your father? We need to speak to him about something important. Is he here in the market?"
She slowly swaggered toward him trying to look as tempting as she could. "What is it you must tell him?" she said with mock interest. She really never cared about anything but herself.
Lucian put a hand out to keep her from latching onto him again. "It really is important Gwen. We must speak with him right away."
Gwendaline's face pinched up as she huffed from his in-affection. She stomped her foot like a child and turned away. "Come on, he is over by the bard with some of the other counselors." She bounced off quickly. Lucian and Eliath had to jog to catch up to her.
As they neared the area where the bard performed, Lucian could hear his song. It was a wonderful tune, starting off slow and then building up to a fast, catchy pace. His mastery of the small stringed in
strument called the niloiv, had everyone dancing merrily in the square around him. The Chief Counselor, and a few others, were sitting off to the side and seemed to be in a heated discussion, for it was obvious that they weren't listening to the bards beautiful song.
Gwendaline skipped over to her father, leaned in, and planted a big kiss on his cheek. He smiled up at her and saw Lucian and Eliath standing in the background.
"Ahh Lucian, my daughter has been going on about wanting to dance. My old bones can’t keep up with her so be a good lad and take her to the floor, would you?"
Orland, the Chief Counselor, was the highest power in Yavasura, like a king in a way but with no royal blood. He was a good diplomat and was voted on the counsel at a young age. He quickly moved up among the ranks to become Chief Counselor. He didn’t look his age for his overly plump face smoothed away wrinkles. His carefully groomed beard was thick and rounded off just above his collar bone. The expensive robes that he wore were a rich umber color, and he was covered in more jewelry than his beautiful daughter. As for his temper, he was a good-natured man, but he had his mean streaks.
As if the bard heard the Counselors last remark, he started singing a lively tune perfect for a dancing couple. Lucian did not want to waste time, not even with the beautiful Gwendaline. He decided to just blurt out what he had to say and get it over with "We were attacked by a worvak yesterday, only an hour’s ride from the village."
The laughs died out instantly. Orland looked at him for a moment, his expression turned serious. "We must speak in private. Come with me to my home, and we will discuss this matter."
Lucian shared a worried look with Eliath as the three of them walked on toward the Chief Counselor’s estate.
Orland wasted no time in starting the conversation. “So you saw a worvak near the village?” he was resting his chin in his hand with his elbow on the table.
“Yes, maybe an hour or so outside the borders. It attacked us after we killed a Fen,” said Lucian. “We think it was stalking the Fen, and came upon our scent,” he added.
Orland was rubbing his chin, staring off in thought. Lucian thought it odd that the man didn’t seem too surprised at the news. “We have had many attacks by worvak around the village lately, at least a dozen.” he said at length.
Lucian was set back a bit, he had heard Eolic say the same, but thought he was exaggerating.
“But this news is not the most unsettling,” continued Orland. “We have also received word that the tribes of the north are uniting.”
“But what are they uniting for?” asked Lucian, astounded by this new information.
Eliath spoke almost before Lucian finished as if he knew what his friend was thinking before he said it. “They unite for war.”
“Your friend is wise, Lucian,” said Orland as he nodded at Eliath. “The merchants say they unite under a man called Thaluzont, a ruthless tyrant who has been sweeping through the northern tribes, either killing them, or forcing them to serve under his banner. But this is all rumor thus far, it may all be just another bard’s tale.” He let the statement linger, obviously holding something back.
Lucian looked to Eliath who seemed lost in thought. “What does this have to do with the worvak?”
“Ah, the question I was waiting for,” answered Orland. “Since the attacks started an old prophecy has been uncovered that tells of the worvak coming down from the northern swamps. The prophecy said that the attacks would be the ushering of a tyrannical leader from the north.” He paused and looked back and forth from Lucian to Eliath while rubbing his chin. “My boys, the village is in a stir over this nonsense, they fear that a war might be coming.”
Lucian couldn’t believe all that he was learning. He suddenly felt like a hermit that had been secluded in the mountains knowing nothing of the goings on in the world around him. “But what will happen? The southern tribes are not united. Moreover, they are usually at each other’s throats!”
Orland stared at a space on the table. “I don’t know if war is coming Lucian, but I fear for my people. We are a small tribe, with a small militia. What could we possibly do if one did arise? The tribe would be better off not getting involved.”
Lucian stood from his chair, placing his hands on the table as he leaned toward the Chief Counselor. “We must send out envoys to the surrounding clans. We must try to unite!”
“Steady yourself Lucian, your brother seems to think differently.”
“What, he knows of this?” asked Lucian, startled a bit.
“Yes, he feels that our tribe is small and we may be overlooked, to later align with the victor. He thinks we should keep these attacks secret for now, so as not to further frighten the people, until we can find out more.”
Lucian straightened with a jolt knocking his chair over. “Is he daft? Counselor, one northern tribe could ransack our village with little effort, you know this. We are at the crossroads of the southern trade route. They will not overlook us! How could Eolic not see that?”
Orland was already shaking his head. “Your brother has been a valuable asset to this tribe. You should speak with him about this matter. My decision has been made.”
Lucian realized that the argument would go no further. Eolic had Orland’s ear on such matters, and it would not be easy to convince him otherwise.
"Thank you for your generosity, Counselor Orland. Eliath and I must be on our way."
Orland looked up from the table, trying hard to erase the worry from his old face. He smiled an unconvincing smile. "Good to see you again Lucian my boy, make sure you find my Gwen before you leave, and say goodbye, you know she will be heartbroken if you do not." This time his smile was warm as he stood and clutched Lucian’s shoulders.
Lucian studied the old Counselors eyes. It was a mixed look. One of sadness, worry and doubt. He felt sorry for the man. His whole life seemed to be changing and he did not know how to react to it.
Lucian and Eliath took their leave and left him be with his contemplations.
Eliath patted Lucian on the shoulder as they exited the home. “I am sorry that he would not hear your plea. I fear he is being led astray by your brother.”
Lucian just shook his head. Eolic was no fool, but it seemed he had a hard time not acting like one.
They had just entered the market square, looking for Gwen, and hoping that they would not find her, when they noticed a large crowd gathered near to where the bard had been singing, yet no song filled the air. The crowd seemed to be rapt in silent suspense. As he closed behind the crowd, Lucian expected the bard to be spinning a wondrous tale, but it was a woman talking. Everyone was listening intently to what she had to say. She was going on about a prophecy.
Eliath nudged him with an elbow. "She is a seer."
Lucian had heard of such people before. They had the gift of prophecy. Some said it was given to them by the great Father. Others said it was from the Fallen Lord. Lucian turned his ear towards her, to better hear what she was saying. He could barely make it out. But what he did hear troubled him deeply.
"The worvak will come down from their swamps to the north and will bring terror with them, for following in their wake will be the armies of doom. They will come forth led by a sword, wielded by the Fallen Lord himself!"
People started shouting out questions to her but she only kept repeating the same words. Lucian wanted to see her so he pulled over a crate and stood up on it. The woman was very old, and she too was standing on a crate. She couldn't have been more than five feet in height. Her bony, wrinkled arms waved about as she repeated the prophecy. Her long, snow-white, disheveled hair stood out in all directions, but what caught Lucian's attention most were her eyes. They were a bright cloudy grey. He thought that she must be blind, but no sooner did he think it, than her eyes stopped on him. They seeming to lock him in, and peer into his soul. She began speaking again, only this time, the words were different.
"Only the chosen one can bring an end to the suffering that will come from the servant o
f the Fallen Lord. He who will command the Legions of the Great Father and wield the Sword of Flame will be mankind’s only chance to bring light back into the world of darkness."
The old woman’s eyes had stayed on Lucian the entire time she was speaking. Lucian was paralyzed. This woman was blind, yet he knew without doubt that she looked directly at him. She had been smiling while she spoke the last words but now a look of sorrow came over her face. Everything seemed to go quiet when she spoke again.
"I am sorry for your loss my boy. Take joy in knowing that the Great Father has accepted them into his loving arms."
Lucian almost fell off of the crate. He felt as though he was pierced through the abdomen by a spear. The villagers were turned around now, staring at him curiously. The old woman’s gaze wavered, and she seemed to be blind again. She got off her crate, grabbed a long stick, and briskly walked through the back of the crowd, waving the stick out in front of her. Lucian jumped down in a panic. He had to get to her and ask her what she meant.
Who was she talking about? Was she talking to him? Yes, he was sure of it.
He tried to weave his way through the crowd but was having a hard time of it and lost sight of the old woman.
"No!" he screamed to himself. "What did she mean?" a powerful hand seized his arm. It was Eliath.
"Come brother, we must go home." Eliath had a look on his face that made Lucian forget about the seer. "I fear something is wrong, we must get back quickly."
A wave of fear and panic washed over Lucian. Thoughts flooded his mind as he ran with Eliath out of the village toward their home.
My loss? Did the old lady mean something had happened to my parents? Lucian’s mind whirled as he remembered what he had been told about Seers, how they prophesied over future events. He stretched his legs as far as they would go, his lungs burned from the exertion. Every muscle in his body seemed as if they were going to snap. He could hear his heart pounding in his ears. His thoughts spun out of control. He felt something too, just like Eliath. Something was horribly wrong.
Revelations of Doom Page 4
