The Last Pantheon: of spiders and falcons

by Jason Jones

  “Saberrak, what is it? What is really going on here?” the elf hushed to his side, whispering as much for possible eavesdroppers as for the possibility of James waking from his wine induced sleep.

  “The man that gave me this, James described the room exactly as I saw it. He described the man. Something, when I look at this, I feel I must learn it. James knows of it.”

  “So? He probably stumbled in there recently, saw what you saw. What is so important about that?” The elf was not following the minotaur's thinking, having very little idea of what he was hiding. She looked at James, asleep in the chair, then walked over and carefully placed the bottle on the table before it fell from his hand again.

  “No. No man could have gotten into that part of Unlinn and made it out alive. He said the other night he had not been there in thirteen years. How could that man have survived there for that long and looked that healthy?” Saberrak shook his head.

  “I think you are taking James a bit too seriously. He has been through much, and if you hadn’t noticed, he has a bit of an issue with wine. He could have been there months ago and thought it was years. Besides, what does it matter?”

  “Shinayne, the man was being torn apart by trolls, yet had not a mark on him when I freed him, then he vanished. After that, my wounds were healed too, I am not even sure if he touched me. Something, something is telling me that James saw the same thing a long time ago, the same place. We need to go.”

  The gray warrior rolled up the scroll carefully, placing it in his new leather pack already full of dried meat, bread and mixtures of dried fruits and nuts. The castle was warm, safe, and protected, yet the minotaur knew that things of value were never safe and always coveted by those nearest. The arena life of Unlinn had taught him that for many years.

  “Go? With him like that?” Shinayne pointed to the passed out knight, clothes and gear clean and pristine now, but still passed out. “We must stay and respect the hospitality of the Lord of the Keep, at least tonight. Three men died in that skirmish saving us, and seven more are at the mission with injuries. Alexei and Kaya have sent food, wine, servants all day, and did not even ask for payment for the supplies they gave us. A little...”

  “More time to plan how they will take the scroll from me.” The minotaur huffed hard under his horns, certain that danger was near and that this place would not be safe much longer. He had made up his mind.

  “Oh, Siril help me. Saberrak, you are paranoid, the animosity you sense, so do I. It has to do with James and his past here, not with us or that scroll. What is it besides some treasure to sell off anyway?” Shinayne knew there was no turning his mind around and knew she could not stop him either. His resolute gaze did not waver.

  “It is more than that.”

  “How so, horned one?”

  “Look.” Saberrak traced his fingers along the spindle of stone, lightly, delicate brushes of his calloused hands. Blue mist rose from the letters and words, escaping from inside the rolled parchment, and trickling slowly up his arm.

  “Very well, it is valuable and mystical, so we---“

  “Shinayne.”

  As Saberrak gestured his hand up for her to be silent, the mist rolled through the air about them. It flowed into his breath, inhaling and exhaling from his nostrils, a blue light flashed in his eyes. Shinayne stared, unblinking, trying to find words in which to put this aside. She could not.

  “It speaks to me, not in words though. It is saying I must know of it. Of him.”

  “Who?”

  “I do not know. But it is desperate, strong, and some force drives the voice.” Saberrak lowered his horns and looked at the scroll, then back to the elven woman. “I have to go.”

  “I was hoping to find Lavress, at least pick up his trail again. Or find Bedesh. Where is it you plan on going? Vallakazz?”

  “More answers there, right?”

  “Yes, but it is many days journey on horse, longer on foot. I do not know the roads and dangers here in Chazzrynn.”

  “James does.”

  “James is not going to help us. It is winter, traveling alone is not wise. I tried it and now I have lost people close to me. Promise me we will try and find Bedesh.”

  “I make no promises, but we will be heading northeast, so perhaps we will pick up his trail. And James will help, I will make sure of it,” snorted the minotaur.

  “We have to cross the Garalan River, and there are few bridges and ferries …very well then. What about him?”

  Shinayne tried to rationalize all of it, yet her chances of finding her lover were slim if she stayed in a civilized area like this, as Lavress stayed to the wilderness. He had come close to here on his journey south, but it was doubtful he would take the same trail twice, he never did. Hope, and a bit of luck. With that Shinayne resolved the conflict within herself that heading east across Chazzrynn with present company would be the best choice.

  “I will carry him. Do you have money for horses with all your riches?”

  “I have plenty of funds, if that is what you mean, but you cannot ride a horse my large horned friend. You will have to ride a trained brahma, if they have one. I would not pay to put a horse through what you would do to its poor back and legs.” The elven noble checked her coins, she had plenty, always did, and always traveled with men who did not. That notion put a smile on her face, for even her lover disdained currency and jingling coins. She felt her hidden purse, the one with the cut stones, and she felt even more assured.

  The minotaur pulled up his polished greataxe, hearing the doors open with plenty of boot steps behind them. The doors swooshed, revealing Lord Alexei and Lady Kaya, several knights of Southwind, and a few serving staff.

  “Good evening, you look rested and refreshed. I hope we have been accommodating?” The lord of the keep met their eyes, save for the sleeping knight, whom he merely glanced at, paying no mind.

  “You have been most gracious Lord T’Vellon, Lady Kaya, our thanks. We have decided however, to take our leave and were hoping you would have steeds we could purchase at your stables,” Shinayne said with a slight bow, eyeing the gray horned warrior, making sure the axe was lowered.

  “We do, certainly. It seems your friend James Andellis will be unable to ride, however.”

  “He will ride, I can make sure of that.” Saberrak snorted with a small grin, knowing James would be hating his life and his stomach in but a few hours.

  “He has debts here in the keep and in Elcram, debts we cannot pay and many wish repaid. They have been flooding in all this day, unfortunately. We would like to escort you to Vallakazz, so you are protected, yet it would tarnish our name if we let him go freely.” Kaya smiled slightly, a bit of pity in her eyes.

  “Is that so?” Saberrak huffed.

  “Rather quick indeed, and after thirteen years, no doubt.” Shinayne added.

  “Yes, yes indeed.” Kaya spoke sincerely, knowing that many a merchant had come the last day to see her brother, having heard of the return of James Andellis, placing old debts into writing. She had made sure.

  “How much? And how do you know we are heading to Vallakazz, my Lady?” the elven woman smiled, glancing at Evril Alvander, who shied his eyes down, and then back at Alexei. Shinayne knew the priest would not have said a word.

  “I am afraid the total adds to twenty three and one half pounds, in silver that is. And I believe father Sancadiun mentioned sending recommendation to a few places, Vallakazz being much closer than Shalokahn, I assumed, Lady Shinayne.” Alexei covered his sister's statements quickly.

  The elf knew, from her youth in court, that he may be telling the truth, yet the young spy had given himself up with his eye contact already. Now Shinayne wondered who else the boy was talking to.

  “Thank you Lord Alexei, but who mentioned Shalokahn?” Shinayne looked to them both with innocent eyes, but now she knew.

  “How much coin is that, exactly?” whispered the minotaur to his slender eared ally.

  “Around two hundred thi
rty five gold coins, roughly speaking. Surely inflated and if I offer half that they will most likely take it,” she whispered back. Shinayne knew how these things worked as well, dealing with seedy merchants on sail in the Carisian Sea for years. “It is a lot, and we leave it there.”

  She reached into her purse, feeling for the cut stones she had, two should cover the debt and the steeds, all they needed to get out of this place. She produced two marquis cut round and brilliant sapphires the size of small marbles. “Will this take care of our transport and his debt, my Lord T’Vellon?”

  Shocked looks from the Lord and Lady of Southwind Keep, as well as the other ten behind them. None were expecting such precious stones to be carried on a traveling swordswoman, elven or not. Alexei stepped forward, eyeing the sparkle and quality of the cuts. He knew they were worth more than was needed by quite a sum. He also knew that was the elf’s intention, to put him in a position that he could only answer favorably to. Diamonds and emeralds were worth much, rubies a bit more, but blue eyed Altestani had held sapphires supreme for thousands of years, and Agara had carried that value through time. Alexei had never seen one so perfectly cut of such a size, until just now.

  “Of course Lady Shinayne, more than acceptable.”

  Shinayne looked, peripherally, and watched as the young Evril cast a quick eyeshot to Lady Kaya. The lady did not look back, but kept staring at the elf and the stones in disbelief. Yet Shinayne had what she needed. The boy was a rat to the Lady for he was desperately trying for eye contact. And there was most likely something more to it. She assumed that the Lord’s information came through his sister, who changed its origins and picked out the pieces she would tell him, saving some for herself, the best parts. Shinayne T’Sarrin knew that the priest did not go to the Lord and Lady and tell them of his assumptions, he went to write letters and left through a different exit.

  Lady Kaya had told her brother what the truth was, her truth, and got him to act. It was a skill seen often at high court, a skill that took many years to perfect. Shinayne made eye contact with Kaya, smiling, and bowed to the lady, her elven arrogance shining through every pore of her golden skin. The elf smiled wide, smiled in silent victory. They had been told of the silver, the platinum perhaps, but coins alone. And, Shinayne had been ready for such a social maneuver, more than ready.

  “Shall I arrange the caravan to Vallakazz, brother?” Kaya T’Vellon tried her best to seem unwavering.

  “Perhaps, Lady Kaya, the serving boy has heard something in error. If you have time again, you could question him more thoroughly. For I do not enjoy having servants spreading misinformation on conversations. In Kilakala, such an action would be severely punished.” Shinayne commented with a stare to end stares. She handed the two sapphires to Evril, and crossed her arms slowly.

  At that, Kaya turned and walked through her servants and men down the hallway, silently.

  “I will arrange for dinner in Andellis Hall. Dine with us tonight while preparations are made for your escort. I will ensure the letters being sent arrive safely through what men I can assemble with the church. I shall give you some privacy. You are invited guests, and as such, please accept my apology on this matter.” Lord Alexei, young and noble, with his composure intact as always, went to see to his sister.

  Rising from the slight bow that he had never performed until watching the elf today, Saberrak looked at his elven companion. “And what was all that staring about, elf?”

  “Just something between women, nothing more my horned friend, nothing more.” Shinayne knew now that the Lady of Southwind had spies and plans that others were unaware of. Now she fully agreed that their stay would have to be short.

  “I know little of women.”

  “That woman is hiding more than we, or her brother, knows about.”

  “Told you. What is it she hides?” Saberrak huffed.

  “Not sure I want to find out.” Shinayne looked to the minotaur, then the scroll, and lastly to James asleep on the sofa.

  LCMVXIIXVIIILCMVXIIXVIIILCMVXIIXVIIILCMV

  The next morning James felt the food hit his stomach like bricks, churning bricks, to go along with his pounding head and sweats. The next day was the same, a delay from writing and scribes he had heard. The nausea was making the smell of the stables like a nemesis with the sole purpose of destroying him. He barely knew where he was or how long he had stayed, thankfully having at least drowned out that anxiety. His moaning with each step did not even catch a comment or glance from his companions, as they had no pity for the pain he inflicted upon himself. Despite his improved appearance and a final shine to his steel, James Andellis still felt much less than human after five bottles of wine. He did not even recall the bath or the trimming of beard and hair.

  Looking up from his boots, he realized, yes, he had been in Southwind Keep, it was not a nightmare. He paced beside the white mare, vomiting into the frosted dirt and manure a third time. Shinayne waited patiently atop a brown stallion trimmed with white on the face, and the minotaur high in the air saddled on the two ton shaggy brahma.

  The giant, black haired, gnarled horned beast of burden let out a low moan as Saberrak pulled back on the reins.

  “You would not be so sick, had you not drank like a starved troll, Andellis.” His patience was wearing thin, wanting to be away from here, alone with his companions, where he could get some sober answers from James about the man under the ruins in the west.

  “I don’t get sick when I drink wine, minotaur. I get sick when I eat, or fall asleep with it in my stomach, and from the smell of horse shit on an empty belly. I get sick when I go too long without it, a dangerous change in---” Another heave, but there was not much left. His eyes watered and pain ached in his gut, James was empty. He glanced at the pack on his horse and noticed the stable boy had hid and wrapped the bottles, as he had begged him to. James had given him leave to do so, said it was a knightly charge for an important mission.

  “They are sending us with four knights, Saberrak. Must be dangerous territory.” Shinayne speculated about that many being with them, especially with Evril among them.

  “From here to Vallakazz is hardly dangerous, Shinayne.” James whispered. “It is the second most travelled road in the south, connecting Elcram, Vallakazz, Roricdale, and ending in Valhirst.”

  “Interesting,” Shinayne whispered back.

  “My guests, I hope we have been of assistance and may your journey be safe and swift to Vallakazz.” Lord T’Vellon, son after his lordly father, waved the entourage on, not waiting for James Andellis to get comfortable on his steed.

  “Evril Alvander, my sister sends word that the church has requested you to accompany the messenger to the mission in Shalokahn. You will take the north road to Silverbridge, then the Rivertrail through the Bori Mountains to Willborne. A guide will be at the mission in Claumoore to take you through to Baily. From there follow the Erinsburg Way through to Harlaheim and on to the mission in eastern Shalokahn. You two of Dunmoor ride with him, it is an imperative quest of the church, and I shall rely upon your bravery.”

  “And them, my lord?” The priest nodded toward the three strangers with the scroll.

  “These brave warriors will only be needing a small escort for four days ride. Let no man or beast stand in their way that does not wish a foul end. Farewell!” the Lord finished giving his orders.

  “That answers that I suppose,” snorted the minotaur to the elf, happy with fewer prying ears on their travel.

  “A thousand thanks Lord T’Vellon, for your hospitality and assistance.” Shinayne bowed her head and kicked the stallion to follow the men of Southwind, keeping an eye on James. She let her eyes follow the others heading north, sensing something was not as it should be, but powerless to do much about it.

  Bright sunshine beamed in the cold crisp Chazzrynn air, and the road was hard frozen mud with drifts of snow blanketing the way from time to time. Crows and hawks, snow vultures and blackbirds all circled above, fighting each other for
aerial territory and the smoldering meal of ogre from the three days’ old battle.

  Saberrak had some difficulty with his stubborn steed, pulling back the horns many a time to have a heated discussion about where the road was and how to follow the horses. Warmer now they would be, with blankets and gears purchased. The minotaur pulled his blankets around his shoulders and thought. He had seen a castle, dined with knights and lords, ridden this thing, and learned much about the scroll he had been given. Now his eyes watched the two ahead of them, en route to some new place on the surface, smelling that this was too easy and the two men far too quiet. His mind raced with questions.

  “James, we need to talk, you and I.” huffed the gray.

  “Agreed.” James nodded in return.

  “Not now, we are still too close.” Shinayne talked down toward her saddle.

  “I will not have as much wine, not out here. If I said anything that---“

  “Not about that, about the man you saw under the ruins.” Saberrak snorted.

  “Not yet, prying ears close by, Saberrak.” Shinayne hushed once more.

  “How do you know of that, minotaur?” James thought he had to heave again, held his hand over his mouth, the motion of the horse not assisting.

  “Last night, you spoke of it, remember? And the night before that.”

  “No, I cannot say that I do.” James hung his head, the entire stay was nothing but blackness in his mind, and his first memory was the fresh cold air hitting him not one hour past.

  Hunters I:II

  Tower of Salah-Cam

  Sullan Swamps

  He saw three trolls, green and shivering to his left, and a dozen more ahead on the lower floors of the tower. Lavress had already drawn his forward curved kukri dagger and matching falcata, had already moved within a few hundred feet of the foul place in the dark of night. His blades shone green in the eerie light of the moon, the dark green of the troll guards he had silently killed an hour ago in the frozen swamps. The painted hunter’s elven ears could hear the trolls speaking slower, less viciously than he recalled. He concluded that this was due to being tired and fed, but hopefully not fed the forest creature he had come to retrieve. A satyr they had almost lost, Lavress assumed, seeing tracks to confirm an escape attempt a few days back west and north.