by Joe Jackson
“I was simply asking if you should like sundries for your impending travels,” he said.
“She’s with us; we’ll give her what she needs,” Starlenia answered him.
“Do your people trade stories about the great battle against the demon king in the south?” Leighandra asked the shopkeeper while she slipped on the leather bracers.
There was something about the man’s face that made him look to always be smiling, and Leighandra found it was a contagious thing, intentional or not. His voice was jovial to go along with his features, and an interesting accent flowed through in his words. “I have heard the stories, but I cannot recall many of the details. I know only that a great many forces aligned to fight off the demon.”
“Do you know anything of a powerful sword being brought this way after the battle?”
The shopkeeper shook his head. “Nothing of that sort, no. You could always check with the great wizard they have at Drazika Sul’Tenari.”
“Where?”
“Drazika Sul’Tenari. I believe those in the south have shortened it to Castle Tenari over the years.”
Leighandra considered the name and snorted as she figured out how the nickname came into being. “Who is the great wizard there?”
“Not sure of his name, but he is an old fures-rir wizard. Been around many centuries, from what I have heard. How is the fit?”
“Just need to tighten some of the straps and ties and I think it will work perfectly,” the chronicler said, dancing around the open area of the shop a bit to gauge how restrictive and heavy the armor was. Fortunately, it was more than acceptable on both fronts. Human armor didn’t always fit properly due to her slightly slimmer half-elven frame, so she was glad to find a good fit without alterations. “How much do I owe you for the set, good sir?”
“Just put whatever it is on our bill,” Starlenia said dismissively.
“Did you bring a lot of coin with you?”
“Let’s just say I found some things along the way,” the rogue answered. “Plus there was the coin that necromancer in Solaris was carrying.”
“Necromancer?” the shopkeeper blurted, going still. “Are you looking into the trouble that has been plaguing our lands?”
“Yes, we are. We were sent this way by Archmagus Karinda Bakhor and are on our way up to Castle Tenari,” Delkantar answered. “Why, are you having problems here? Anything we can perhaps assist you with?”
The shopkeeper made a shooing gesture toward the door. “No; just go. Take what you need and be on your way. No charge. Go with our thanks and prayers.”
“Are you certain?” Leighandra asked, and the shopkeeper bowed to them. While she appreciated the gesture, she hesitated to let someone potentially ruin their livelihood to lend them aid. Still, she knew better than to insult a gift-giver. “Thank you, sir. We appreciate the help.”
They returned to the inn, and Starlenia began laying out the things they would need. She had all the basic gear for setting up a campsite in the cold and high winds, heavy undergarments of various sizes – though none were well-fitted for her – cloaks, oil for blades and armor, and various other sundries. When Leighandra considered the cost of the armor she wore, she realized the shopkeeper had surrendered a considerable amount of money in giving these things away.
They shared dinner and then turned in early, determined to catch a good night’s rest and get underway as soon as possible. The shopkeeper’s comments had put a bit more urgency in them, and Galadon was certain they were being led to Kalamaris’ sword.
Max lay on his bed in his undergarments, making an obvious effort to remain somewhat proper in Leighandra’s presence. He was staring at the ceiling, though, and she resolved to try to ease his tensions. “What troubles you, my friend? You seemed distant sitting by the fire alone.”
He remained quiet for a minute. “I feel torn,” he said at last. “I should go home, be with my wife and daughters, but I cannot abandon you. At the same time, I feel drawn to follow this path before us to find out as much as I can about my father. It is as though finding his sword and bringing it home might earn me some redemption in his sight.”
“What do you mean?”
He sat up and crossed his legs, hunched over a bit, and Leighandra looked at all of the crisscrossing lines that looked like scars, just as Starlenia had mentioned. She had caught glimpses of them before, but not to this extent. He roused her from her thoughts when he answered, “My father loved me; I have no doubts about that. He brought me up in the ways of our Christian faith and the path of a paladin. But there was always a bit of coldness between us, and there is likewise little doubt in my mind as to why: I killed my mother.”
“Oh, Max,” Leighandra said, putting a hand to her mouth. She shook her head. “Do you mean in childbirth? Surely you know that wasn’t your fault…”
“I know. But it was ever a wedge between us, I fear. And then I lost him to that damned demon king before I could ever prove my worth to him. This may sound silly or perhaps even savage to you, but as his seventh son, I inherited these golden bands. I was supposed to be his successor. I was supposed to become him when his time as king or here on Citaria as a whole was done. And yet here I am, chasing pride and ghosts across the continent, leaving my brother to rule in my stead, and leaving my wife to sing our daughters to sleep without me.”
Leighandra rose and sat on the end of his bed, and she lifted his lupine chin to meet his icy blue eyes. “Your father left his people when the situation demanded it,” she said. “He would be proud of you, Max. Your family is well cared-for; you said so yourself. They miss you, I’m sure, but you are not chasing pride and ghosts. You are standing up for righteousness, and no man, woman, or child worth their salt would ever fault you for that.”
His ears went back, but the eyes said he was ashamed, not angry. She continued, “And you’re neither expected to nor should you try to become your father, Max. You are your own man, and that’s the man your wife loves, your daughters look up to, and your people will follow when the time comes to assume the crown.”
“You must think me a fool,” he whispered, “to sit and whine like a child.”
“You’re a young man with a lot of weight on your shoulders. Don’t try to take it all on yourself, Max. Share your burdens. Anytime you need to talk, I’m here to listen. We’re in this together, all of us.”
“Thank you,” he said.
“May I ask you a personal question, though? Would that be too forward of me?” she asked, and he shook his head and gestured for her to speak. “Max, did your father beat you? Are those really birthmarks on your back and arms, or are they scars of abuse?”
His eyes went wide. “No, they are birthmarks,” he said. “I have had them since the day I was born. My people are quite superstitious about them – as are the gnolls – but I place little stock in superstition.”
She was about to press him on that, but there was a commotion in the next room. After exchanging a glance, they went to knock on the door. “Galadon? Is that you?” Max called.
“Yiilu! Get in here, quickly!” Delkantar called from within.
Max opened the door and rushed in, but he stopped short just inside. Leighandra went around to his side and gasped when she beheld Galadon spilled upon the floor as though he’d been struck down. He was shaking, and Max knelt beside him and put a hand to the knight’s shoulder. Yiilu and Starlenia came in after, and the druidess took up position across from Max.
“What happened?” Leighandra asked.
Delkantar shrugged. “I’ve no idea. We were asleep, and then he sat up and shouted No before he jumped up and started flailing at some unseen foe. Then he just fell down and started shaking. I had no idea what to do.”
Galadon suddenly sat bolt upright and shouted, “No!”
“Be at peace. You are safe with your friends,” Yiilu hushed him. Vo’rii padded into the room and licked the paladin’s face, and that seemed to finally break him free of whatever waking nightmare had gri
pped him.
“Oh, by the Shepherd, that was… that was so intense,” he wheezed, trying to get his breath. Max and Delkantar helped him get back up to sit on the edge of his bed, and he hung his head in his hands for a minute. No one troubled him to speak until he was ready, but Starlenia put a wet rag on the back of his neck.
“The dream went further this time,” he said. “We charged into battle behind Kalamaris, but he was knocked from Galrinthor easily; he wasn’t a practiced combat rider. But he charged after Arku and began to fight the demon king in single combat. And then… he was gone. I got there too late, but I took his place and pressed the demon king.”
Galadon’s arms suddenly came up in a parrying pose. “He shattered my sword. Arku destroyed my sword, but he failed to kill me, and I picked up Kalamaris’ sword. And then I… he… I think we killed each other. Or at the very least, I hurt him enough that the rest of the army was able to drive him off. And the last thing I remember was… lying on the ground, staring into Kalamaris’ eyes.”
Max sat on the edge of Delkantar’s bed across from Galadon. “You took up my father’s sword after he was killed?”
“It was the closest weapon at hand after Arku shattered my own.”
The luranar shook his head. “I am not criticizing, my friend. Just wondering if that may be the reason the sword calls to you now. Perhaps it recognizes you as the last man to wield it, and it wants to be in your possession again.”
“It was your father’s sword, and it should have passed to you,” Galadon said. “I make no claims on your father’s blade.”
“Perhaps not. But it may be making a claim on you.”
Starlenia shook her head. “This has gotten a lot more complicated than I expected when we decided to go search the cemetery in Solaris. What have we unearthed here?”
“Karinda will explain when we return from Castle Tenari; I am sure of it,” Yiilu said. “I cannot help but think she sent us this way to see if these very events might happen, and now, if she believes these, too, are among the signs she has been observing, she may be able to enlighten us to the true purpose.”
“If she knows, and she can,” Starlenia corrected.
Galadon stood up. “All I can say is that destiny is what awaits us at Castle Tenari, and we must make every effort to get there quickly. Which means I need a drink, or I’m never going to get back to sleep.”
The others laughed, and though Galadon invited them all, only Delkantar went with him to get a nightcap. Max and Leighandra returned to their shared room. The luranar sat on the edge of his bed and looked up at Leighandra when she approached.
“Don’t even say it,” the chronicler preempted him. “Whatever reason the sword might be calling to Galadon, remember something: You could feel the evil in the west when none of the rest of us could. We each have our part to play. Try not to read too much into what yours is until all is revealed.”
The luranar paladin smirked. “I was just going to say goodnight,” he quipped.
Chapter VIII – Eldest
For all the tension of the mountain passes, the trek across the frozen wastelands wasn’t anywhere near as interesting. Leighandra assumed she probably missed a lot of the subtleties of this land, her focus on solving riddles and chronicling their journey in her mind. Delkantar and Starlenia would be more aware of what lay among the expanses, whether white with old snow and ice or those few stretches where life had tried to break free of winter’s endless grip. Despite its “natural” state, Yiilu didn’t seem to hold any particular fondness for the fures-rir homeland.
What struck Leighandra as most interesting and amusing were the wolves, and the way they regarded the passing party. Certainly, they found Vo’rii’s presence alarming initially, but then puzzling when they saw she traveled among men instead of her own kind. What, then, did they think of Auremax? Did the six-foot-tall luranar strike them as an alpha? Did he simply come across as a man to them? Or did they consider him a monster, even?
Those were questions the chronicler knew better than to ask. Max didn’t seem touchy about his lupine features when Starlenia teased him, but that was their relationship dynamic, and not what Leighandra wanted between herself and the paladin. For all she knew, he wanted to throttle the little woman and simply refrained from doing so out of some combination of respect, chivalry, and honor. The luranar were an interesting people to Leighandra, so different and yet still so easily relatable, but she was wary of treating Max like a novelty.
Drazika Sul’Tenari was everything Leighandra had dreamed of and more. While it wasn’t made of actual ice, it was crystalline in appearance, some of its walls opaque while others were translucent or even transparent. The sun’s reflection off of its glass-like structure was nothing short of astounding, casting rainbows and glares in innumerable hues across the walls and streets, giving the entire city an ethereal quality like the gossamer wings of a lunar moth. Leighandra could safely say it was the most “magical” city she had ever seen, if one took the definition of the word loosely.
The temperature was bitterly cold this far north and at such an elevation, especially with the waning summer. It was only made worse by the thin air and vicious coastal winds that whipped along the cliff faces to the north and west. The rings from Karinda, coupled with appropriate attire, kept Leighandra and her friends warm and comfortable, but this was an unforgiving land. The streets were icy in many places, a feature that didn’t seem to bother the nearly homogenous fures-rir population whatsoever. They walked across ice as if it wasn’t there, and the flimsy outfits on some of the fures-rir people nearly made the chronicler laugh aloud to see them. The fact that the people were immune to the cold didn’t dispel the oddness of seeing mostly-naked people in the frigid chill.
Leighandra wasn’t the only one to take in the people with confusion and wonder. The entire group found the homogenous makeup striking, the fact that every single fures-rir had blue hair and eyes making it difficult to discern differences at first glance. Leighandra, as a poet, writer, and general chronicler, was more accustomed to picking out finer details, so she saw the differences in brows, snouts, shades of eye and hair color, and even the overbite that marked those who lived on the city’s edges. But to those who didn’t look at those finer details, she imagined the city might look like a legion of rir clones.
There was no reason for them to request an audience with the queen, but Galadon led them right to the main keep, following the pull of Kalamaris’ sword. While the entire city was referred to as Castle Tenari, the keep itself was of considerable size, more so than Galadon’s old palace in Dira Ch’Tori. Its spires and towers suggested that many important people lived here in addition to the monarchy, and staring up at the sky-tickling spires, Leighandra hoped the city’s resident archmage would be among them. Either way, Galadon seemed sure he could lead them right to the sword.
That plan, however, ended at the main staircase to the audience hall, where two guards halted their progress with saw-toothed glaives. It might not have been an optimal weapon for a castle guard to wield, but it certainly made its point without a word being spoken. The guards looked similar enough before one took their fures-rir features into account, but were slim and stylishly armored rather than bulky and fully covered in plate. One of them said, in an odd but wonderfully-accented voice, “The queen is not receiving visitors at this time. Should you need to see her, go and speak with her seneschal, up the stairs to the west.”
“We are actually here to see a powerful wizard; does he live here in the castle? And would he accept visitors?” Max asked.
The guard on the left indicated a hallway beside the stairs. “Follow this corridor, then take the first left onto the spiral stairs. They will lead up to the wizard’s tower.”
“And how should we address him?” Galadon inquired.
“Old Rexis? Simply call him by name, sir. He isn’t one to stand on ceremony.”
“Thank the gods for that,” Starlenia muttered, and the friends continued
as indicated.
The spiraling staircase was steep, but thankfully, being indoors, it wasn’t slippery like the city outside. The interior of the castle wasn’t what Leighandra would call warm, but it was kept at a more agreeable temperature, likely to accommodate visitors and diplomats. What was amazing was the lack of windows; the walls were simply translucent or transparent in the appropriate places to allow light to shine in or visitors to look out. It wasn’t the magic that Karinda had used in her tower, but it was impressive nonetheless.
And thankfully, she mused, it means that frigid wind isn’t blowing into the keep.
The stairs led up a considerable distance, and when they passed another of the narrow “windows,” Leighandra saw they had ascended high above the other rooftops. From here, she could see out over the northern ocean, and caught a glimpse of a few fishing vessels. With a smile, she and her friends continued until they came to a heavy wooden door at the top.
Starlenia wasted little time in knocking, and the door swung open immediately. There was no one there, but that hardly stopped the rogue from striding in. She paused after a few steps when she saw just how markedly different this wizard’s study was than Karinda’s home.
While there were bookshelves here, the room was dominated by curiosities of all kinds, from an astrolabe to several telescopes – uncommon, but Leighandra had seen and heard of them on many occasions; numerous display cases that boasted antique weapons, jewels, books, an odd glove that looked to be made of chainmail, and one that was full of odd sorts of eyewear; a water clock, which was a double curiosity in this frozen land; a modest-sized dragon skull mounted on the wall; a full set of bubbling, burping alchemical equipment; and, not the least, a taxidermied crocodile suspended high above the center of the room. Leighandra considered that, concluding it had to have come from overseas somewhere. She wasn’t aware of the creatures living anywhere on Terrassia, not even on the southern coasts.
The dragon skull got her attention more than the swamp reptile, but before she could make her way over to it, the wizard made his appearance. “Yes, Your Majesty, what…,” came the oddly-accented voice of a fures-rir male before he stopped and beheld the party in confusion. “Who in the hell are you people?”
