by Joe Jackson
“I’ll tell you along the way,” Leighandra said.
Starlenia looked at the others, gesturing toward Leighandra with her thumb. “She keeps telling us stories, we’re going to have to start paying her.”
“The only thing you need to pay is attention. So, this is what I know of the mystical Temple of Archons…”
Chapter XIII – The Squire
The winds shifted as they headed farther south. The Khalarin Desert comprised much of the southern portion of Terrassia, its arid edges abutting the Roaring Plains south of the Dragon Mountains. While the plains and the forests to the north of them remained temperate, the change in the winds altered the climate dramatically as one passed south. Within a few days of leaving Fireblade’s lair, the wind shifted from the northwest to the southwest, and the sole respite from the southern heat was cut off.
The land was sun-drenched for most of the days, only early evening showers giving the companions any relief whatsoever. Before they had even reached the edge of the desert, Max shed his armor. Galadon was able to bear it a little longer, but after a couple of days of the oppressive heat, he shed his as well. Both knights seemed embarrassed to use Galrinthor as a pack mule, but the charger didn’t raise any protests. They made sure to keep him well-watered and covered from the sunlight as much as they could, and the horse trudged along stoically.
Alissiri handled the heat well and showed no signs of duress from all the walking. She was severely limited in communication, only able to speak with Max and Audrei, and even with them, there was a dialect barrier where they didn’t always understand. If nothing else, though, the woman was of no trouble, which would’ve made it easy to forget about her altogether, if not for the fact that she was a medusa. Leighandra was looking forward to being able to speak to the woman at some point, and not through an intermediary, if that became possible.
“Are the Badlands not as hot as the desert?” Starlenia asked while they traveled.
“Portions of them are,” Max answered, panting lightly. “The kwarrasti prefer the hotter, more arid parts of our homeland near to the Khalarin border. The gnolls prefer the rockier crags to the east, as well as the coastline where they can fish and hunt. Our people live in a lush valley higher up that stays green all year long; we are far from used to extremes.”
“I would’ve expected your people to come from the lands of ice and snow,” the rogue said with a shrug. “Especially if your father was called the Winter Wolf.”
“I suspect that had less to do with the weather than his temperament,” Max muttered.
Audrei looked up at the sun, which Leighandra would’ve sworn appeared to be growing larger. “Perhaps we should travel by night. There are few enough clouds from what we’ve seen, and the star- and moonlight should be enough for our human friends to see by.”
“I was going to suggest the same if that thing’s still pulling south,” Delkantar said.
“Yes,” Yiilu answered, holding the seal in her hands. “Look there. I will convince that stand of trees to give us shade until twilight. Let us rest and do as Audrei suggests.”
“The nights do seem bright enough,” Galadon said. “Especially with the two white moons near their fuller phase.”
They settled down to rest. There was some green grass for Galrinthor to graze upon, and the companions got what sleep they could. Audrei convinced their medusa guest to doze until they roused her. Delkantar scouted ahead, and Yiilu remained on watch after calling forth what water she could using her druidic power. The land was generous despite what little it had to give, and she was able to fill a couple of their jugs and skins. There was more than enough to let Galrinthor sate his thirst after grazing.
“How much worse is this going to get?” Max asked, lying on his back in naught but his loincloth. Audrei lay beside him but gave him space so they could stay cool.
Leighandra looked around. Yiilu was meditating intermittently; Starlenia and Galadon were both asleep, as was Audrei; and Delkantar had yet to return from scouting.
“If we travel at night, you’ll find it much more bearable,” the chronicler answered. “But we’re going to need to invest in tents to sleep in, especially during the days in the desert, to keep the sun off of us.”
“Hopefully we are not pulled too far south,” the paladin returned. “Are there any cities of the shakna-rir in our path?”
Leighandra thought to herself. She wasn’t the tracker Delkantar was, but she was fairly sure they’d headed straight south since leaving the mountains. “Phoenix would be a few days to the southwest of us, I think,” she said. “Darksands is somewhere to the southeast, but I’m not sure exactly where.”
“Where is the seal leading us, then?”
“To the next seal,” Yiilu answered. “At least according to our chronicler’s tale.”
Leighandra nodded. “That’s what the legends say. It will lead us to the next, and that will lead us to the next, until all of them have been recovered. I’m just nervous to see what might hold the next one, if an ancient and volatile red dragon held the first.”
Max sighed and went quiet.
After a short while, Yiilu finished her meditation and then looked to Leighandra. “What do you make of the markings?” the druidess asked, but she turned to Delkantar when he arrived back in the camp. “Anything?”
“About a mile to the south of us, there’s a rise… and then a sea of sand beyond it. We are completely unprepared for a journey into the desert. No tents, no veils to keep the sand out of our faces, not nearly enough water. You’re powerful, Yiilu, but asking you to shelter us from the desert itself may be a bit much, certainly for days on end. Traveling at night isn’t going to make a difference without being able to find shelter for sleeping during the day.”
“No, you are correct,” the druidess returned, no trace of feeling insulted in her voice. “Traveling by night will mitigate some of it, but we must decide if we truly wish to test our resourcefulness by entering the desert so ill-prepared. I can keep Vo’rii comfortable, at least.”
“Is it possible Audrei can summon us water? Priests are usually able to call upon some divine sustenance,” Leighandra wondered aloud.
Delkantar leaned over, obviously trying to see if either of the luranar were awake. “She’s no priestess,” he said. “If she has any training in the divine, it doesn’t show.”
“I am not sure I agree,” Yiilu said. “Her faith is incredibly strong. Strong enough that I could feel it bolster my own when I was carving the steps into the mountainside.”
The ranger shrugged, using the sharp edge of a dagger to cut off some of the excess growth on his chin. “I’m not trying to speak ill of her; I just don’t know that it’d be a good idea to assume she can summon us water or food if we continue onward.”
“What do you think?” the druidess asked, turning to Leighandra.
The chronicler, too, glanced at the luranar and hoped they weren’t listening. “As I said several days ago, I don’t know terribly much about their faith. To be honest, I thought their god was always more of a philosophy than a proper deity. I don’t know that their people have priests and priestesses the way our pantheon does, but Max being a paladin does make me wonder.”
“Can you summon enough water to fill every container we have?” Delkantar asked.
The elf nodded. “I will do what I may once I have taken my rest. With that said, if you two are prepared to stand watch, I will do so now.”
“Sure, go ahead,” the ranger agreed. “We may just want to have Max and Audrei stay here with Galrinthor and Vo’rii. Maybe Galadon, too, if he can’t wear his armor and we don’t have a horse to carry it.”
“We can discuss it come nightfall, when everyone is awake again,” Leighandra returned.
Her watch passed quietly, and then Galadon and Starlenia woke and let the chronicler and ranger get their due rest. Leighandra slept well, but dreamlessly. She felt safe with her friends watching over her, and her mind seemed to drown out all o
f the issues vying for her unconscious attention. When she woke up, she was almost thankful for the blissful ignorance.
She rose to a curious sight, and glances at her friends said she wasn’t the only one who found it to be so. Max was standing in only his loincloth, having not gotten dressed yet. Audrei knelt before him, looking up to meet his eyes, and he absently stroked the side of her face and snout. Despite the suggestive pose, Leighandra could see it wasn’t what it appeared at first glance, and she wondered what they were saying to each other in the luranar tongue.
“Remind me, the next time we’re in a city, to look for a book on how to speak luranish,” Starlenia joked in a whisper. Yiilu put a hand over the Okonashai woman’s mouth, and Starlenia shook in a silent chuckle.
Max said something and then turned away, and Audrei frowned and dropped her gaze to the ground. After a few moments, she sighed and got to her feet, then came over to the campfire with the others. She sighed again through her nose and began to prepare breakfast.
“Is everything all right?” Leighandra asked.
The luranar woman started to respond but turned when Max called her name. He came up and wrapped her in a tight embrace, and the chronicler was close enough to see the traces of tears in his eyes. They split apart just far enough to take each other’s faces in hand, and they touched their foreheads and noses together, just as they’d done when reunited in Solaris. It took Max a moment to find his voice, but then he said something excitedly to his wife.
Audrei rubbed the side of her snout against his, tickling each other’s whiskers, and she smiled and responded in their tongue. Both had the good grace to seem embarrassed by all the attention their conversation was getting. Soon, they split apart completely, and Audrei kept her hand to Max’s face until he at last pulled away to go and get properly dressed. Now, when the luranar woman knelt by the fire to tend to the cooking, she looked content.
“Everything all right?” Starlenia asked.
Audrei sighed, but less tensely this time. “Yes, thank you.”
Leighandra caught Delkantar’s eye, and she gave a subtle nod to the south. The ranger excused himself to go water the trees, and Galadon suddenly remembered wanting to check on Galrinthor. Audrei watched the men rise and depart, but she didn’t seem to think anything of it.
“There, we got rid of the boys,” Leighandra said. “Is there something you need or want to talk about?”
Audrei looked at her three women friends and smiled shyly. “No, it’s just… I suppose the timing was a bit awkward. I had a bellyache last evening, and that’s usually the first warning sign we luranar feel.”
“Great Spirit, are you pregnant?” Starlenia gasped.
The woman sighed wistfully. “No. But autumn is passing quickly, and the season is upon us. I asked Max if he would like to try again for a son. As I said, the timing is not right, with everything before us.”
“You could always go home and have children,” Leighandra said. “Lady Karinda even told us that if we failed or refused the task before us, it would simply be appointed to another.”
“No,” Audrei insisted with a playful swipe at the air. “We will have plenty of time for that when all is said and done. We must have faith that the Lord will see us through.” She made strong eye contact with each of the other three women. “We will not abandon you to see to selfish desires. We’ve pledged our aid and friendship to you, as you have to us. And so we’ll stand by your side.”
Vo’rii padded up and licked Audrei on the side of her snout affectionately. “And we are honored and glad to have both of you,” Yiilu returned. Leighandra noted that the elf smiled much more around this group than seemed typical for her mother’s people.
There was something that bothered Max when he spoke of his wife and children, and now the chronicler thought she understood. It wasn’t an unusual thing among royalty, yet she hadn’t quite expected the same thing from the luranar. The luranar were patriarchal, and so they had hoped – prayed, even – for a son. It was unfortunate that they had failed to produce one when Audrei gave birth to multiples, but then it wasn’t all that unusual even among animals – a thought Leighandra was happy to keep to herself.
The chronicler looked across at Starlenia, hoping the Okonashai woman wouldn’t come to the same conclusion and be less inclined to keep quiet on it. “You have two daughters, yes?” she asked, trying to make sure it didn’t come up.
“Ariana and Alexis,” the luranar woman answered with a smile. “Two little bundles of mischief and wiles, just like their uncles.”
“If Max is the seventh son of a seventh son, I imagine they must have a lot of those.”
Audrei nodded. “They have more aunts and uncles than I can count! King Kalamaris had nearly a dozen siblings. Max has six brothers and four sisters. His mother bore a large and strong bloodline for King Kalamaris.”
“But she died giving birth to Max?” Leighandra asked before she realized it.
The luranar woman straightened out, then looked over her shoulder at her husband. She was perturbed when she turned back, and stuttered, “It’s best not to speak of such things. Max is very sensitive about his parents, so please don’t bring them up with him if you can help it. I know his father has a lot to do with what we’re doing now, but please…” The three women agreed with nods, and Audrei sighed. “Max’s mother was old when she became pregnant with him. Older than should have been possible to still bear children. And then she gave birth to him, a single birth… there’s a lot of superstition around him among our people, and he doesn’t believe in any of it, so he finds it quite upsetting.”
“And he had those… birthmarks when he was born?” Starlenia asked. “Karinda said he touched on a couple of superstitions, being the seventh son of a seventh son and something about a striped man… carrying the scars of another.”
Audrei looked toward the men again, but they were joking around near Galrinthor. If the chronicler wasn’t mistaken, even the horse was amused. Just what were they up to?
“Our people think…,” the luranar woman began, turning back, but then she shook her head. “No. No, it’s best if I don’t say anything about it. Suffice to say that Max finds speaking of those, too, to be upsetting, and it’s best if you just keep quiet about it.”
“He said something about not being… what was it? Christ Incarnate?” Starlenia pressed, and Audrei’s ears angled back. “Yeah, he got very upset by it.”
“It’s hard to explain, but yes, that superstition among our people makes him furious. It’s best if that subject is just left alone unless he brings it up.”
Leighandra looked to the others, and they each agreed in turn. The chronicler was a curious woman by nature, and so she wanted to know everything about her new friends. What was Max hiding? He seemed so forthright and honest about most things, but he kept his personal life tucked away, seeming afraid or even angry at the thought of anyone else becoming privy to it. Audrei was a little more open, but she was mindful of her husband’s privacy and wishes, and it was clear she didn’t want to betray his trust.
“We’ll leave it to him to share if he wants to,” the chronicler offered.
Audrei bowed her head in thanks and began serving breakfast, which was technically dinner. The men came back and had their fill, and Delkantar gave them details of what to expect once they went into the desert. He was blunt, holding nothing back, and his explanation sounded more like a dire warning for them to turn back to a city and get supplied before they waded into the sea of sand. With the seal giving them no indication of how far away their destination was, Leighandra was starting to think he was right to warn them off going out among the dunes.
It took them little time to reach the rise that looked over the near edge of the desert. “It’s hard to believe it was once a rainforest,” Starlenia commented.
“Indeed,” Yiilu agreed. “Nature should have reclaimed these lands at some point, but it is as though something – or perhaps someone – keeps the Earth Mothe
r at bay. Did the wizards change the very makeup of the land when they did battle with the Tempis’ra? I do not think it possible, but what other explanation could there be for such a drastic and long-lasting change in the overall climate?”
“I’ll say it one more time: We should turn back,” Delkantar warned. “At the most, if we proceed, we should travel no more than a day’s journey in. If the seal still pulls toward nothing, we must ignore it and head to one of the nearby cities, or else make our way back out.”
“Why not just head to the closest city within the Khalarin?” Galadon asked. “No one says we have to go straight for the next seal. Which city would be closest?”
Leighandra thought about it. She had seen plenty of maps, but rarely traveled into the land of the shakna-rir. “I believe Phoenix, to the southwest, would be the closer city, but it will still take more than a day to reach. Darksands is to the southeast, but I believe it’s farther south than its sister city.”
“Do we turn back, then?”
“No,” Yiilu answered. “I will see to forming us some shelter even from this unforgiving land when the sun begins to rise.”
“What can you build from sand?” Delkantar asked, trying – unsuccessfully – to keep the edge out of his voice.
“That depends how deeply it sits where we find ourselves at the light of morning,” the druidess returned. “I cannot sense water beneath us, but there may be rock that I can call up to form a shallow cave, at least.”
The ranger sighed but didn’t argue further. “Well, I suppose I’d be a fool to doubt you after your display at Fireblade’s lair,” he said, prompting Yiilu to smile.
“Do the shakna-rir truly build cities among this?” Max asked. He wasn’t panting anymore, as the night had cooled off enough already to make a marked difference. Audrei, too, looked far more comfortable. If anyone looked slightly uncomfortable now, it was Alissiri, but her heavy cloak was drawn closely around her to ward off any chill.
