by Sandra Kopp
Davon’s head jerked up and down.
Arris tightened his lips. Shock gave way to anger. “Davon, you know that was not me. The deceiver moves. He troubled my dreams one night, and the following morning I saw his visage on the mountain, as did a herdsman who accompanied me. Now he entices Nedra and today sought her husband’s life. He saw you alone and splashed my face on the mountainside to frighten you.” Arris’ scowl deepened. “Given your present demeanor, I perceive he succeeded magnificently!”
Davon’s shoulders slumped. “Forgive me, Arris. So suddenly and so vividly did your likeness appear that it—”
“You said it spoke to you,” Arris broke in. “What did it say?”
“It referenced a maiden with flaming hair, broken open and her blood spilled, a fitting sacrifice.” Worry clouded Davon’s face. “Melinda Greene has auburn hair.”
“As does the entire Schiff clan, which includes at least a dozen maidens,” Arris returned. “Also, the Ellisons’ two daughters have red hair.”
“I can’t help but fear for Melinda,” Davon murmured.
Arris sighed heavily. “She adamantly expressed to you her desire to remain here, and Felicia could not dissuade her from marrying Rand. She made a choice, and at nineteen—”
“I know; she’s a grown woman.”
Arris cocked his head. “Those words could pertain to several people. I would think the Serpent would target more prominent citizens, such as the Ellisons. A mishap to one of them and Teptiel would raise an outcry that reverberated to the very heavens. I have seen Melinda Greene. Compared to the others I mentioned, her hair appears more brown than red in color, and not at all what I consider ‘flaming.’ The Schiffs have flaming hair, as do the Ellisons; Melinda does not.”
Davon shrugged in resignation. “I suppose that’s true.”
“The situation has intensified. For Hans’ sake, I must write Angelika today. Rest assured, I will include what you told me.”
Davon hesitated. “I would reconsider asking our council for help. You know Eldor Rand holds a seat, as do several of his ilk. Rand opposes us already—”
“And would swiftly bar any action on our behalf,” Arris finished grimly. “Oh, yes, I can see nothing but a lot of shouting and arguing.” He rubbed his chin as he pondered. “Actually, another king should take the matter to Theodus. Perhaps Angelika would speak to King Euratio.”
“That would prove more fruitful. I am sure Euratio would act.”
“I shall ask her.”
Davon nodded shortly. “Good.” He glanced out the window. “It’s getting late. Do you require my assistance any longer?”
Arris shook his head. “No. Hans is safe and resting comfortably.”
“Then I shall return home.”
Arris caught his breath. “Given what transpired here, perhaps I should ride part of the way with you.”
Davon smiled. “I do not fear the serpent. I have asked for God’s protection. He will travel with me.”
“You are indeed safe then.” Arris opened the library door and followed Davon outside to his waiting horse.
Davon untied Trevor and mounted. “Let me know if you need me.”
“I shall. Safe journey now.”
Davon touched a hand to his forehead, and as he rode away he thought someone whispered his name.
Arris sat at the desk in his study, brow furrowed as he thought. What he asked of his sister endangered her sanity and perhaps her life, for as a High Arganian she already employed powers precariously bordering those of the Black Arts. She must discern the nature of the spirit speaking to her, a difficult task, for the demon spirits disguised themselves well.
He pondered a moment longer, then dipped his quill and wrote:
Dearest Angelika, I hope this letter finds you in excellent health and spirits. Our foothills abound with lush pastures, flourishing fields and carpets of flowers so colorful they resemble a rainbow poured out upon the ground. Yet when I gaze at those snow-white cliffs soaring into the heavens I remember the beauty of Aerie and the people I hold so dear—especially you, my beloved sister.
However, a dark cloud hovers. A maniacal beast tried to kill a wartime confederate who traveled to meet me. While safe in my house now, he brings troubling news of impending war and the rebuilding of the sorcerer’s castle. Worst of all, a voice from the Abyss entices his wife. I may have mentioned her: Nedra, daughter of. . .
Arris dropped his quill and buried his face in his hands. “How do I broach this? How can I draw my little sister into a realm I myself will not enter and that may destroy her?” He sighed and looked up, resting his chin on his hands.
How, indeed? ‘Tis a man’s province, a man’s fight! But you relinquished your power and now rely on your younger sister to do what you will not.
Arris gaped at the wall before him. That airy whisper, resembling wind coupled with a serpent’s hiss, penetrated his mind with chilling clarity. The power behind that voice had seduced Aurelius Marchant, transformed him into Ryadok, used and then destroyed him. Now it spoke to Arris.
Reclaim your power and rightful destiny, Arris Marchant. You need give up nothing. Reclaim your power and stem the rising madness. You are strong, my friend, stronger and wiser than any before you, for you entered the demonic realm and returned unscathed with your honor intact. Even your cousin, Aurelius, a good and noble man in his own right, could not accomplish that.
Arris’ eyes flashed. “Anhuapta!”
Haaaaaaaaaaaa! The Serpent’s hiss resembled the sound of water poured onto hot stones.
“Yes! I know your name, and even as a mortal have smelled your foul stench.” Arris stood. “Aurelius possessed neither goodness nor nobility. From his youth he proved himself evil. I do not esteem his memory and I’ll have no part of you. Begone, liar!”
Fool! Many will die because events you could have foreseen and altered will befall them, or because you lack the healing power necessary to save their lives! Yes! That knowledge can flee your remembrance faster than a snowflake melts in fire! Everyone you love will curse you as you show yourself feeble and weak, uncaring and self-absorbed. Concerning your friend, you fear his wife! Even as an Arganian you feared her. Behind your feigned fidelity, you find her enticing and secretly yearn for her.
“It is appointed unto men to die, and trials serve to test, temper and strengthen us. You present yourself as a loving benefactor, Anhuapta, when in fact you would turn all of mankind into sheep to be herded, manipulated, and finally slaughtered by a heartless tyrant stripped of his own will and inhabited by you.
“And I do not abandon my friends. As God gives me strength I help them. Through suffering and even death I will accept nothing you offer, for your path leads only to damnation. I yearn only for my lawful wife to whom I have bound myself for life, with no regrets. Now begone, liar, for I’ll neither listen to nor speak with you further.”
Deathly silence met his words. After several seconds the Serpent spoke. No matter. I have in Liedor a more worthy son. Him will I exalt while you cower behind a woman’s skirtsssssssss. . . The ominous whisper evaporated into silence.
Arris returned to his desk. “Good! Now, where was I?” He scanned the page, studying its contents, and then dipped his quill.
. . .Arronmyl of San-Leyon, who exhibited second sight in matters pertaining to Ryadok and his breeding colony at Rissling. This same power seduces her again, and her husband fears she will succumb unless someone intervenes. Would you speak to Baldimora on Nedra’s behalf? While I lost favor with him, I trust and respect his wisdom above anyone’s.
Concerning my friend: Hans Ogilvie dwells among the Rauths, who prepare for battle to regain farm lands stolen from them by Liedor, leaving them little arable land. Hans feels that returning those lands, especially the Rauwyar Valley, will appease them. In this, Hans stands alone. I would petition King Euratio to speak with Theodus, king of Liedor. Would you do so on Hans’ behalf? If necessary, I will travel to Aerie to meet with Baldimora and Kin
g Euratio.
Davon and I have both witnessed the serpent’s likeness on Mitrovnia’s face. It said nothing to me, but to Davon referenced the blood of a maiden with flaming hair poured out as a sacrifice. Davon believes the maiden to be Melinda Greene, niece to a former comrade, Edwin.
Dearest sister, please let me hear from you soon. With deepest love and warm regards, Arris.
Arris returned the quill to its pouch, studied the letter, and then rose and went outside to commence the half-mile walk across the meadow to his parents’ house. Passing the barn, he noticed Makaya and two other ponies waiting patiently outside the paddock. Inside, two boys watched intently as Pharen examined the cow and twin calves. Pointing and gesturing, he spoke rapidly in the Wyar tongue, pausing occasionally to answer questions. His eager pupils followed every move and, under Pharen’s tutelage, conducted their own inspection of one of the calves.
Makaya turned her head and nickered softly. Arris chuckled and walked over to tousle her creamy mane. “How’s the cow look?” he called to Pharen.
Pharen climbed onto the fence, swung over the top, and dropped. “Cow good. Calves good, too.” He gestured to the boys, who clambered over the fence and stood beside him. “These my sons. The tall one is Soren, the other Mahanna.”
The boys smiled shyly as Arris acknowledged them.
Pharen rubbed a hand on his pant leg. “Cow completely healed. All three healthy. I think we take them back to the pasture.” He paused. “Mr. Arris, I wonder if next month you could let us go a few days. My clan has a celebration in the foothills.”
Arris nodded. “Take as long as you need. Just let me know when you’re leaving.”
“I do that. Thank you.” Pharen and his sons mounted their horses. Pharen rode to the paddock gate and opened it. Makaya backed away while the cow and calves ventured out and then, followed by Soren and Mahanna, trailed them to the pasture.
Arris continued across the meadow. The walk relaxed him, and the wind blowing through his thick hair soothed him. Breathing deeply, he savored the beauty around him, momentarily forgetting the gravity of his errand.
As he approached a grove of quaking aspens, a gust of wind roared through the branches and then abated, leaving waves of fluttering leaves in its wake. Arris would have walked past, but a strange shimmering near one tree caught his eye. Head cocked, he turned to investigate.
The air seemed to thicken and then shimmered and turned light green. A woman’s shape appeared in its midst. Arris gasped as her features grew more distinct. “Angelika!”
“Hello, Arris.” The mist dissipated. Angelika’s clear blue eyes sparkled beneath a mane of golden hair. A long robe made of a filmy light green material covered her slim form.
“I was about to send you a letter. Angelika, how long have you. . .when did you attain this ability?”
She laughed softly. “I’m a High Arganian now, remember?”
“You possess every whit the capacity Baldimora did when I saw him two years ago.”
“You, too, would enjoy such skill, had you stayed.” Angelika held up a hand as Arris started to speak. “I remember your reasons, particularly concerning our power’s source.” Angelika paused. “I know the contents of the letter you carry. Anhuapta has begun to move.”
“You know his name.”
Angelika regarded him sagely. “Only a fool does not know his enemies, Arris. Had Aurelius known him better he might not have succumbed.”
“Aurelius was power mad and would have believed he could manipulate even the prince of demons.” Arris paused. “How do we reach Nedra? And can we persuade King Euratio to stand with us before Theodus?”
“I cannot say what King Euratio will do, but will speak with him upon my return.” Angelika frowned. “Nedra possesses the same weakness Aurelius did. And she really had joined Ryadok, but faltered when Ryadok failed to deliver what he promised. Liedor and Valhalea, he told her, schemed together to plunder San-Leyon’s resources and enslave its people. He promised Nedra that she would be chief ruler of San-Leyon, a defender of her people and fierce protector of the land and forest. Ryadok also promised that she would possess you, and thought to ensnare you through her charms.”
“I thought as much,” Arris muttered.
“I will work with Nedra,” Angelika continued. “I can sow seeds of doubt in her mind to make her question Anhuapta.”
“I fear for you. I had hoped you might seek Baldimora’s guidance first.” Arris sighed. “This should be my undertaking—not yours.”
Angelika drew herself taller and regarded him narrowly. “You consider a woman incapable?”
“I contended with Anhuapta face to face. I know his subtlety. Already he has spoken to me. Besides, you’re my little sister. I don’t want you harmed.” Arris thoughtfully chewed his lip. “If Baldimora would grant me empathic power, at least.”
“He will not. First, you employed your powers outside of Nimbia, and then afterward renounced your commission and left Aerie altogether.” Angelika took Arris’ hand. “Arris, you still possess wisdom. You possess discernment—and integrity. You remember how to make healing powders and draughts and can still accomplish much.”
“Anhuapta told me I may lose that knowledge as well.”
“Stand firm, Arris. Maintain your integrity and remember who you are. I will also petition King Euratio on your behalf.”
“Can Arronmyl’s life be spared?”
“Arronmyl is an old man whose time has come. Even Arganians cannot extend life indefinitely.”
Arris sighed and looked askance. Angelika cocked her head, a little smile tugging the corners of her mouth as she studied him. “What are you thinking, Arris?”
Arris met her gaze again. “I withdraw my request.”
Her smile disappeared. “What?”
“I withdraw my request. I don’t want you contending with Anhuapta. You can’t do anything with Nedra without planting yourself in death’s path. When you enter the universal corridor you will find Anhuapta there, waiting.”
“You would cast Nedra aside?” Angelika reproached him. “If she becomes the next sorcerer. . .Arris, I understand your concern, but do not cave in to fear. I do not contend with Anhuapta alone. Already the High Order has united against him. Nedra will hear many voices but believe they come from the same entity. When the messages conflict, she will recall Ryadok’s deceit.”
“I hope so.” Arris hesitated. “Do you know the identity of the maiden with flaming hair whose blood will be shed?”
“That has not been revealed but I shall seek her out. Now, we’ve much work to do. I must deal with Nedra first of all. You must protect Hans.”
“Can Hans return safely home?”
“You need God’s help more than ours. While the High Order has united against Anhuapta, God has the final authority. He holds ultimate power.” Angelika squeezed her brother’s hand and released it. “Farewell, my brother.”
“Farewell, my sister.”
Angelika closed her eyes and clasped her hands together. The air around her grew misty. When after a moment it cleared, Arris found himself alone. He stared for a moment at the letter in his hand and then turned and started for home.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
The sun beamed down from its midday perch as Hans lumbered toward the barn. Three days of rest, along with Arris’ healing potions, had restored him to health, although he still favored his right leg and suffered an occasional twinge to his ribs. His face, however, displayed little more than miniscule scars which Arris felt would soon fade altogether.
Arris had just hung his saddle over a rail near one side of the tack room. He turned as Hans appeared in the doorway. “You’re looking much better.”
“Aye, thanks to those Nimbian draughts of yours. I don’t know what I would have done had you returned to Aerie.” His face fell as he continued softly, “I don’t know what I’ll do if I meet such misfortune after returning to Rama-Rauth.”
“You’re not thinking of leaving al
ready.”
“Aye. While I’ve enjoyed your hospitality and appreciate your care these past days it’s time I went my way. I must speak to Theodus, if he’ll hear me, and then see how Nedra fares.” He smiled then and, stepping into the room, clapped Arris on the shoulder. “’Twas wonderful seeing you and Merewyn again. You’ve a grand place here and a grander son who will become every whit as noble as his father. Jonah Ramon, eh? A grand name, as are the men who bore those names before him.”
“Indeed.” Arris smiled back. “Thank you for your kind words. I only wish we had met under happier circumstances.
“Aye.” Hans sobered and stroked his beard. “I don’t suppose you’ve heard from your sister.”
Arris shook his head. “No. I sent another message to her yesterday, but. . .”
Hans waved a dismissive hand. “No matter. I’m sure Euratio will act at the proper time and that Angelika already works to secure Nedra’s safety.”
“Angelika urges us to seek God’s help more than hers—especially you as you return home.”
“I’ve done that.” Hans ambled to his own saddle, hanging on the rail beside Arris’, and rummaged through his gear. A frown creased his rugged face. “I’ve lost my dagger. The sheath was still hanging on my belt, but the blamed knife must have fallen out during the attack.” He paused and clicked his tongue. “I don’t suppose I’ll ever find it out there.”
“Probably not. You’re lucky you weren’t stabbed with it,” Arris returned dryly. “Let’s drive into town. Peter Rainer has some fine knives at the mercantile. Or, if you prefer, we can visit the smithy. I’ll hitch the buggy. That little bay I just bought needs some exercise, and it’ll give Parsius another day to rest. You’d just as well wait until morning to go back; otherwise, you won’t reach Langhorn till after nightfall, and I don’t want you traveling in the dark. I’ll gather a few supplies and ride part of the way with you, at least.”
Hans closed the flap on his saddlebag and strapped it. “I appreciate your offer but respectfully decline. Times being what they are, I don’t want you leaving your family. I’ll have my guard up, never fear.”
