Kelven's Riddle Book Five

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Kelven's Riddle Book Five Page 2

by Daniel Hylton


  “She’s hungry, I think,” said Dunna.

  Ka’en held out her arms. “May I have her, my love? Let’s see if she will eat.”

  Aram handed down the precious bundle and then sat on the side of the bed as Ka’en held the child to her breast. In but moments, the tiny girl was suckling contentedly. Ka’en smiled up into Aram’s eyes.

  “Are you pleased?”

  Aram didn’t trust himself to speak. He nodded silently and returned her smile. After the distress and pain of the last few weeks, the miracle of his child’s birth lightened his heart in ways that could not be measured.

  Behind him, the door moved on its hinges.

  “Ah – it’s a wee lass, is it?”

  Aram turned to see Eoarl standing with Dunna near the door. Eoarl inclined his head to Aram. “Congratulations, my lord, on the birth of your daughter.”

  “Thank you, my friend.”

  “Yes, it is a great thing – and a great day.” The older man smiled broadly. “Well, then, my Dunnie and me will leave the little family alone for a while.”

  “I’ll go, too, mistress,” Cala told Ka’en. “Just call for me if you have any need.”

  After they’d gone, Aram turned back to Ka’en. Noting again the lines of fatigue around her eyes, he asked her once more, “Are you sure you are alright?”

  “Yes,” she assured him. “Although I am very tired, and sleepy. After she eats, I think Mae and I will get some rest.”

  He nodded. “I’ll stay until you’re both asleep,” he replied. Leaning down, he kissed her on her forehead.

  When they slept, he stayed for an hour, watching the gentle rise and fall of the breast of the woman that meant more to him than life, and the tiny fair-haired likeness of her that lay asleep in her arms. For the first time in many days, the world receded beyond the horizons of his life and took its troubles with it. He smiled happily upon his sleeping wife and child; then he stretched out in his chair, closed his eyes, and rested.

  Later, when the small, hungry cries of her child woke her, Ka’en was surprised to find her husband asleep in his chair.

  Though his heavy, slow breathing affirmed that his sleep was deep and sound, his face nonetheless wore a smile.

  Unseen by her husband, she returned that smile.

  And she wondered if it might be that beneath those lids, above that smile, the hard, frightening green ice deep in his eyes had finally melted away.

  And she was made strangely glad by that hopeful thought.

  For another week after the birth of his daughter, Aram stayed in the valley, resisting the demands of destiny for the sake of his heart.

  Every day, after the sun climbed high enough in the sky to make the world below sufficiently warm, he held his daughter in his arms while he and Ka’en strolled back and forth along the southern end of the great porch. As the days passed, Ka’en recovered her strength. Aram was at last able to let go of his worry over her, and instead simply enjoyed the novelty of being a father. Cree often came down and sat on Aram’s shoulder as he walked.

  “That is a fine child,” the hawk reiterated more than once. “A fine child. Beautiful – like her mother.”

  During those pleasant days, Aram had his first taste of what life might be like if the world was made free of the overhanging malice of Manon, and to a lesser extent, that of the likes of Rahm Imrid. Deliberately, he put thoughts of his enemies away and enjoyed each day to its fullest.

  Then one morning he awoke to find a rime of frost lining the blades of grass in the low spots near the city, and he knew that the thing which he intended to do before winter could be put off no longer.

  After lunch, when Ka’en had fed Maelee and they were sitting together in the sunlight on the veranda of their house, Aram turned to his wife.

  “I must go away for a few days,” he told her abruptly, but as gently as he could. “It cannot be avoided. But I will be gone no more than fourteen or fifteen days, and then I will return and we will have a quiet winter.”

  He watched her after he finished speaking but she kept silent, with her gaze turned away from him and out over the valley.

  “Ka’en?”

  Finally, she drew in a deep breath, let it out slowly, and looked at him. A soft, sad smile touched her mouth.

  “I knew,” she said.

  He frowned. “What is it that you knew?”

  “That you would be going away.”

  His frown deepened. “How did you know?”

  “Because I know you, my love.” She reached out her hand and entwined her fingers in his. “And I know when something besides me is on your mind.” She squeezed his hand and looked away. “Something has changed in you because of – because of all this; I can feel it – and see it.”

  He stiffened at the tenor of her words. “I have not changed at all toward you, Ka’en. I love you – more each day.”

  “I did not mean to suggest it,” she answered and shook her head, still looking away. “I know you love me, and I love you. But you are different and it frightens me.”

  Hearing the distress in her voice, knowing why it was there, and what had caused it, Aram felt the deep, pent-up fury that had smoldered inside him since the day of the dragons begin to surge. With an effort, he fought it back and lowered his voice in an attempt to keep that fierce anger from coloring his tone as he replied. “Manon sent his beasts to kill you, Ka’en. He intended to take you from me – to use my grief against me to manipulate me for his own purposes.” He drew in a calming breath and glanced over at the wolf lying asleep in the sun. “If it had not been for Gorfang, they – and he – would have succeeded.”

  After a moment, he went on, “And there is another thing…”

  She turned her head and looked at him. “What other thing?”

  “You were right in coming here,” he told her. “And I was wrong to try to prevent it. The dragons came for you, Ka’en – there is no other explanation. Manon meant to harm me in a way that would destroy me, drive me mad and cause me to behave rashly, granting him ultimate victory.” Aram looked away, toward the southeast. “If you had remained in Derosa, the dragons would have found you easily, and would have burned that town to the ground, killing everyone, just as they did with River’s Bend.”

  He continued to look away from her and his voice broke. “It is only because you were able to get under the mountain that you survived. I thank the Maker that you were here, in the city – and not still in Derosa.”

  She let the silence lengthen out for a few moments and held tightly to his hand as he looked toward the southern end of the valley. “Where are you going?” She asked then.

  “Elam,” he said simply.

  Her eyes flew wide. “Elam – again? Why?”

  He felt his gaze harden involuntarily as he moved his head to look back toward the western reaches of the southern horizon. “To remove an impediment.”

  Ka’en felt her heart skip and catch. “You’re going back to war?”

  “No.”

  She watched him, holding tightly to his hand, and staring at the thick black hair on the back of his head as he gazed toward the southwest. She tried to gauge his mood through his posture and in the flesh of his fingers but saw – and felt – only determination. “What are you going to do, my love?”

  “As I said – I am going to remove an impediment.”

  Her quiet voice softened until he barely heard her.

  “An impediment to what?”

  He turned and looked at her. The green ice deep in his eyes that had appeared on the day he slew the dragons but had been absent since the birth of Maelee was there once more. And it was as hard and cold as ever.

  “My path to Manon,” he replied.

  She watched him with widened eyes for a long moment and then she closed her eyes and put her head against his shoulder. She asked no further question, for she feared the answer.

  He stroked her hair gently for a time and then he stirred himself. “I will leave on the mo
rrow,” he said. “Today, however, I need to find Borlus.”

  She lifted her head, leaned back, and stared. “Borlus? Why?”

  He smiled at her. “I need his advice on something.”

  She sat up straighter. “Can Mae and I go with you? I would love to see Borlus and Hilla. I haven’t seen them since – that day.”

  Regretfully, he shook his head. “Borlus’ advice will undoubtedly send me further on into the hills. And I must travel light and fast.” He thought for a moment. “I won’t be long in Elam. When I return, if it is still warm enough, we will take Mae and go see them together.”

  She watched him for another moment and then agreed. “I will hold you to that, my love.”

  He nodded and stood. “I need to find Thaniel and go, then. I will be back before supper.”

  4.

  Borlus was overjoyed to see Aram come up the small valley where he and his family made their home. As Aram dismounted from Thaniel’s back, the bear rumbled up gladly.

  “Welcome, master, welcome! The hawks tell us that you are now a father.”

  Aram smiled a greeting. “Hello, old friend. “Yes – Mistress Ka’en and I have a daughter.” He winced as he said it, but Borlus, whose own daughter had been lost in the battle for the city, seemed not to take notice.

  “I am very glad for you, Lord Aram.”

  “Thank you for that, my friend,” Aram responded, and he inclined his head respectfully to Borlus’ mate, Hilla, who had come up to sit behind her husband. “If you and Hilla are agreeable, I will bring my family to visit in two weeks or so, before the winter – before you sleep.”

  “We would be honored, master.”

  Aram glanced toward the grotto where the bears lived and then looked around the narrow valley, frowning. “Where is your son, my namesake – where is Aram?”

  Borlus sat back on his haunches and his small eyes gleamed. “He has gone north, into the hills, to find a mate.”

  Aram’s smile returned. “I remember when his father went northward into those same hills for the same reason. May he be as fortunate in his search as you were in yours, my friend.”

  The bear was watching Aram closely. “I see that you have come for a purpose, master. How may I assist you?”

  “You are as perceptive as ever, old friend,” Aram laughed. Then he grew serious. “Where is a cave, or another deep place, where I might get under the earth? I need to send a message to Lord Ferros, if possible.”

  Borlus tiny eyes widened. “I sometimes forget that I am friends with him who talks with gods.” He turned and looked toward his own home. “You are welcome to use our dwelling, master. I know that you met him there once before.”

  Aram shook his head. “No, it was not Ferros, but his servant, Bendan. It is Bendan that I wish to meet with again.” He looked up the valley at the opening to the bears’ grotto and then, after a moment, shook his head again. “It is true that I met him there once before, but on that occasion I informed him that I was in that place to visit a friend. He will know that it is your home, and might not respond to my presence there.” He looked back at Borlus. “No, my friend; I need to find a place where he will interpret my action as a need for his assistance.”

  Borlus thought for a moment, and then he rose and pivoted to face west. “At the end of this valley, where this stream arises from the earth below the mountain, there is a small cave. I once considered it for a home, but as I said, it is small.” He lifted his head and studied Aram. “It is not tall, master, but I believe that you may be able to stand in the center, just inside the opening. But will Lord Ferros’ servant require more room?”

  “I think not,” Aram replied. “I am not certain, but I do not think that rock is an impediment to his kind.” He looked beyond the bear, up the valley. “This small cave is next to the mountain?”

  “Yes, master, at its base. When you reach the place where this stream arises from the earth, look up and to your right. It is there at the base of the mountain.”

  “I will go and find it.” Aram reached out and touched Borlus on his shoulder. “Thank you, my friend. I will bring Ka’en and Maelee to see you in a few days’ time.”

  “Maelee – that is your daughter’s name?”

  Aram nodded. “It was the name of my sister.”

  The bear was silent for a moment. “She it was that the evil one took from you.”

  “Yes.” Aram frowned at him. “How did you know?”

  “Leorg the wolf told me.”

  Aram considered. “He must have known it from Durlrang.”

  “I am sorry for the loss of your friend, master,” Borlus said.

  Aram hesitated as he rose to move away toward Thaniel. He looked away from Borlus, down the valley, and then looked back at him. “We all lost much – too much – and I am sorry for us all. Farewell, my friend. Ka’en, Mae, and I will come before winter.”

  “Farewell, master.”

  The cave pierced the slope of the mountain several yards above the spring that fed the stream, atop a grassy hill that ended at the base of the rock. Leaving Thaniel in the meadow among the lush grass by the place where the spring of the valley stream bubbled up from the earth, Aram climbed the slope to the opening and stepped inside. Though small, it was perhaps not as cramped as Borlus remembered.

  He found a place where the ceiling of the chamber allowed him to stand fully upright and turned his back upon the bright day outside. As he peered into the darkness of the depths where the cave narrowed down to nothing, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the dimness, he wondered if Ferros would remember his promise and honor it once again.

  He needn’t have doubted.

  Within moments, the shadowed interior brightened with a faint reddish glow. A moment later, Bendan appeared.

  The servant of Ferros bowed to Aram and surprised him with the use of his title. “You have come under the earth, Lord Aram. Are you in need of my master’s aid?”

  Aram inclined his head in respectful response. “I am in need of information which I believe your master, Lord Ferros, might be able to provide, sir. Greetings, Bendan,” he said then. “Thank you for coming. I did not know if Lord Ferros would remember me.”

  “Lord Ferros remembers all, and always keeps his word,” Bendan replied. “I am here at his command. What is your need?”

  “I wish to know if there are more dragons loose in the world other than the two that I slew in my valley. I need to know this for the security of those I love.”

  Bendan’s response to this was to stiffen and stare at him, his gray-orange eyes seeming to glow in the darkness. “You slew – dragons?”

  “I slew them,” Aram affirmed, surprised by Bendan’s response. “There were two. The grim lord sent them to burn and kill in my valley. I need to know from Lord Ferros if there are more that threaten the world. Will you ask him – or do you yourself know the answer to this?”

  Bendan, his eyes still round with astonishment, held up his hand. “Please wait here, my lord, if you will.”

  The servant of Ferros disappeared on the instant.

  As he waited for him to reappear, Aram kept his back to the sunlit opening of the cave and thought about his immediate plans. If Ferros could verify there were no more dragons abroad in the world, he would feel more comfortable with leaving Ka’en in the valley as he went to see about his business with Elam. Padrik had sent almost a hundred of his wolves into the hills north of Aram’s valley in order to strengthen Leorg’s diminished numbers and the hawks between the valley and the far north remained on constant alert. Ka’en would be as safe in the valley as she could be anywhere – so long as there were no more of those alien monsters to threaten her.

  The red glow strengthened once more.

  But it was not Bendan this time.

  Aram was astonished to see the smooth head and face and the fiery eyes of Lord Ferros himself appear inside the small cavern.

  Quickly, respectfully, he bowed. “Lord Ferros! I did not mean to trouble you
–”

  Ferros impatiently waved Aram’s protestations away. The god gazed at him with burning eyes. “I am told that you slew the dragons that my brother loosed upon the world. Is this true?”

  Aram nodded cautiously. “It is true, my lord.” He lifted one hand to indicate the Sword upon his back. “Though I must confess that it was the power of this weapon that doomed them,” he said.

  Ferros’ glowing eyes glanced briefly at the Sword. “Yes, there is sufficient power in that weapon to wreak havoc down into the very foundations of the world – as I learned when you so callously and deliberately pierced a mountain with it. But you wield it, Aram. That weapon can do nothing on its own. So – in truth, you slew them, if indeed they have perished.” He leaned forward. “They are dead? Their carcasses lie upon the earth? I require proof.”

  “They are dead, my lord,” Aram contended. “I swear it. You may look upon their carcasses, if you like. The bodies burned after their deaths, and only their bones remain.” He moved his hand, indicating the outside. “I will gladly show you, my lord.”

  “There is no need for that.” Ferros leaned closer, his fiery, fearsome eyes coming close to Aram’s. “I will know the truth by your answer to one question. The bones of these beasts – how do they appear? Describe them.”

  “They appear as if they are made of burnished metal – steel perhaps, or another metal unknown to me,” Aram replied, mystified by the question. “I do not think it is steel, but whatever it is, it is similar in appearance.”

  The god watched him for a moment longer and then leaned back and nodded slowly. “I see that you speak the truth; they are slain.” Ferros straightened and smiled coldly. “No, it is not steel. You are right in that assertion. The substance of their bones is not found on this world.”

  He studied Aram for some time in silence. “The Astra – they aided you?”

  “Yes, my lord.”

  “But it was not their strength that slew the dragons?” The god persisted.

  “No, my lord,” Aram answered. “Their aid, as always, was invaluable. But as I stated, it was the Sword that destroyed the beasts.”

 

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