"Rapheth, stop!" Someone shouted behind him. "Rapheth! Do not chase after him, it may be a trap!" Rapheth reluctantly slowed to a halt and turned, breathing labored.
"Why not?"
"A trap. That man, he was the one once in King Baldric's court. He must be."
"But to just let him stay out here in the wild? To let him go free? He must be partly behind all this trouble your people have endured!"
"I know it. But to go charging headlong into an unknown den is foolishness. You are a prince from another land trying to get back home. You will have your own evils to fight once you return. Leave him and his ilca to me. One day I will deal with him. As for you, son of King Khalit-Aisu, live to fight another day."
From then on, Uwain, with all the chieftains from the south and the small company of northern warriors sent by the king led many raids on the giants' tribal caves and soon there was a great massacre of the Ohdrufrid and even some Wodrufrid. Uwain and his men with their cloaks became known as the Men Who Ran Between The Leaves And Air. Rapheth and his own fighting men themselves had begun to win renown as swordsmen. The last battle saw at least a third of these warriors and all the chieftains on horseback. When they had finally finished the campaign to defeat the giants, they piled as many heads as they had taken on the Field of Sollus, a grassy plain cleared of trees and bushes on a hill, where a great stone altar to the sun god sat, burned them and then came home in victory. Uwain had not a few heads as trophies of some of the most powerful Ohdrufrid chiefs. They hung from the side of his steed in a rawhide sack. Rapheth rode his horse close to Rhajit.
"Your lessons. Thank you. I owe you my life for what you taught my friends and I."
"You already had decent training before." Said Rhajit. He had a long, stitched up gash on his right cheek
"An old swordsman. Kudush was his name. He has probably passed on from the world now. Very old but also good."
"See?" Rhajit grinned. "You had a foundation. I merely finished your training. A bit. It gives a rush of blood and passion to the bones, not knowing if you will survive in a fight. War and battle is the real training. At least that was how it was for me when I was young."
"But now there is a purpose. I wonder though. Parso said something to me that bothered me when we went to the castle."
"What was that?" Asked Rhajit. Rapheth leaned in close.
"He said that something was not right about the place. About Aldeberg. A certain mood."
"You know I am not one much for mysticism, Rapheth. I see and go by what I see. Life is easier that way. It could have been that since he is an outlander he was feeling mistrust, even hostility from some of the men there. We are foreign. Besides that, they have been waging battles against monsters who are trying to destroy their way of life. They do not trust anyone at this point. Perhaps it was because of that. Do not worry overmuch!" Rapheth though on this.
"You might be right. Though, most people here are courteous enough." Still, Rapheth was extremely sensitive to such things and resolved to be as watchful as he could. A king could start out with good intentions and be a good king for a long time and still be corrupted, even at the end of his life. A disturbing thought. He was also beginning to understand that each man had different strengths. Rhajit had his strengths and seeing the life behind things was not one of them. Nor was it a quality of Ephron's. And Ephron of late had become more challenging and distant toward him. But not today. Today was a day for victory.
They celebrated in Uwain's hall and this time many tables and benches had been brought out. Rapheth, Rhajit and Injol were all allowed a spot at his table for Uwain had traveled and served in Hybron and gave them great respect and they had gained more respect fighting under him. While the others of Rapheth's band of men were given seats at lesser tables this only further insulted Ephron but Shukala sat with the other warriors at a table close to the hearth and the others were simply happy to be there and were in great joy over the victory of the Thane and of their own lives being saved.
Idwil herself was accorded great respect and fame for her cloaks and during the week long town celebration her name was on many lips as a wise woman. Later that night she went into labor and the next morning Uwain had a newborn son.
Parso was sitting by the fire when Rapheth came to join him
"I was thinking on what you said at the castle."
"And what do you think?"
"I think that someone really is in league with these giants. Like the king, though there is no proof anyone can bring. In fact, I saw a Man in Black, as they are called in this land. He was there near Mount Blacry. I tried to catch him but he escaped right after the battle. It was so misty up there that I could barely see. But he was there, dressed in all black. The Thane does not trust the king and many men here feel the same as the Great Thane. The war against them is not over."
"I agree with you Rapheth but be careful what you say. The king has sent some of his own here in the south. One may never know if there are spies among those northern warriors who will report back to the king."
"And who may be working in some way with that man I saw in the wood."
"It could be anything. I do not think it likely that the warriors have anything to do with him. It is dangerous enough that they are aligned with the king, whose heart is not complete toward his people or their gods any longer. He is a fox, that one. And then there are the Wodrufrid to worry about. Uwain says they have been very quiet of late." Said Parso. He sipped on a large mug of honey mead.
"Yes. We battled some of them. They are getting encouragement from somewhere. From someone besides their gods. The question is why. Those giants, I get the feeling once they obtained their objective they would simply take over and rule the land like they did before. Why would they even have to listen to any Man In Black or anyone else? Especially if they used to be gods in the eyes of the people?"
"That is the mystery. However, I hope before that question has to be answered that we can move on from here. Uwain is an excellent host but at some point we must be on our way. You have your own battles to fight and they have not even begun."
"Parso, we need Omun and his skills, besides Baudolino. We have to somehow get Omun back here. He was willing to come home with us. If I am to do what I must, I need him."
"I feel too that Omun is unfairly imprisoned in Aldeberg but, Rapheth, you seem to have forgotten the most important person here."
"Who?"
"Airend-Ur. Because of Him the tide in Hybron will change. Without Him you cannot do this. Whether Omun comes or not, it is His purpose that drives you. Do not forget to put your trust in that."
"You know Parso?, Sometimes you sound like a philosopher rather than a counselor."
"Did I not just give you counsel?"
"I need practical counsel Parso!"
"Did I not just give you practical counsel?"
"No, you did not!" Rapheth felt himself becoming angry at Parso. He was not sure why. Parso saw it too and he sat down and softened his voice.
"Look, I know that from a human standpoint just having faith and trust sounds foolish. But look at our situation. We should all be dead. We are in a strange land among its people and involved int heir conflict. We survived the dragon and the attack in Pallinona. This is not to say that we are not capable men but we are also greatly fortunate in our travails so far. Do you not see His hand in things?"
"Of course. But if I am to rule practical matters will come up daily. I need to know which men are going to be useful to me. Omun is one of them."
"Useful! Only that, eh? Men are machines to be used now are they? Is that what the prophet taught you?" Rapheth felt his face growing hot. How dare he! I am a king!
"I am to be king! Do not speak to me in this way!" Rapheth said. Parso, without standing gathered himself up looked him directly in the eye.
"Oh? I will now speak to you as a prophet admonishes a wayward king then. It is not just men who are useful you will need around you when you ascend the throne, Your
Supernal Greatness," he added with a sharp bite of sarcasm, "but good men too. Omun is a man, not simply a tool to be used. Those are the ideas of Black Alchemy and it would seem the king of this land has been infected by them. Will you be infected too? How will poor Omun fare under you if this is the way you are going? I have noticed a change in you and it disturbs me but I have said nothing on the matter."
"Then let it not disturb you. You harangue me with nonsense and chatter when I see the way out of the difficulties of a king without an army!"
"It seems difficult because you have not put your trust in the one who promised you the kingdom. All these men around here trust in and make offerings to their gods! Even the Ohdrufrid are faithful to those they worship. What about you? What have you done lately to give thanks for your present fortune? For being preserved alive and healthy in all your troubles throughout your life? I will say this and then I will go. There are good people and bad people. Yet the complexity lies in your ability to discern the difference. That is where holy training and trust in the First Pillar of strength is of the greatest value; it trumps mere pragmatic concerns. A king must have about him effective men but also good men, principled men. Which means he himself must start from principle."
"We have had this discussion before, Parso."
"And it seems it did not get through. Some men have good hearts but have lost their way, others are good in every outward appearance but inside are as black as bitumen pits. The second group are very good at only looking at what is practical. Holy training can help you to discern these complexities in men when you alone cannot. However, it will only aid you if you are a spiritual man yourself. Begin down the path of mere pragmatism without principle and your own rule will be as corrupt as your predecessors." Parso got up, ready to leave when Rapheth stayed him. Rapheth took a deep breath.
"I am sorry Parso. I am just. . .stressed. Is all."
"I know. Prayer is what will help in this matter."
"And I do not view Omun as a tool to be used. it just occurred to me that perhaps it was a felicitous thing, our meeting he and his brother in Dyrland."
"I believe it is. But his knowledge can corrupt a man. I mean King Baldric. It would be good to see Omun again. If only the king would allow it. I do not think he will part with such a man with such precious talent."
"Omun has instructed many in this art of making steel. Many here in this town, for instance. Surely he will let him go?" Rapheth said.
"Let us pray on the matter. Each step we take is a step closer to the true goal." Rapheth had been hesitant for a long time to pray. It was the mark of Abgaron that haunted him and he loathed to tell Parso of it. These days it hurt, caused him searing pain whenever he prayed. One more thing it seemed to impart, was a sense of when other evil things were around, when evil lurked, not necessarily with the dragon but it was a mark that was turning Rapheth into a human hound. It made him dimly aware that there were people in the north in league with the giants.
And something was trying to prevent him from coming before his own god. When he tried to pray these days something would distract him in the middle of prayer. a bird, someone walking by, any sound became unbearable to him during prayer. But he could not bring himself to speak of this matter to anyone. Especially not Parso. It was a growing weight he carried alone.
The next morning the Thane received message from the king's falcons that he and his men were invited to a great feast in his honor of the great defeat of the Ohdrufrid. Rapheth spoke to him and told him that it would be a good time for he and his men to take his leave.
"Not before you are given a good store of goods for your journey." Said Lady Idwil. "And besides, you men have been invited along with my husband. The king wants to meet you again."
"I do not trust the king." Rapheth said one day to his friends while they were packing.
"Why not? You do not know him. I think alchemy is twisting your mind, Rapheth. It makes you see things that are not there. I keep telling you it is an evil but you do not listen to me." Ephron snapped and left the room. Baudolino gave him a hard look as he left but remained patiently quiet. Of late he'd endured many insults to his profession from Ephron.
"I do not care what Ephron says. We need Omun. Not just his skills do we need but it is not fair that he should be forced to languish in a dungeon smithy when his people, his own brother, will be leaving soon."
"I agree. But what can we do about it?" Said Baudolino.
"There has to be a way. There just has to be." Rapheth and Baudolino wandered back toward the front of the house. Uwain was in the front hall feeding his hounds.
"I over heard your conversation with your friend." He glanced at Rapheth. "I do not trust him either. But he is the king."
"I am sorry." Said Rapheth. "I meant no disrespect to the king of Dyrland."
"No need for all that. I have lived long enough to see much treachery and wickedness in kingly households. I do not revere any man who is not fit for such reverence but I do respect the position until the gods see fit to change the order of things. Come with me and my men. You and yours have earned honor with us. The banquet is for you as well. If you and your men will leave us I would have you celebrate with us in a kingly fashion. Besides, for this great victory the king, by ancient custom, will owe his thanes and chieftains gifts. If he allows for it, I will ask him to make a great gift." He said heartily. Uwain left for his bedchamber. What does that mean? thought Rapheth. Baudolino turned to Rapheth.
"Keep all knowledge of the chilyabium safe from hearing ears, or the king will demand that as well."
Chapter Thirteen
An untold number of people were streaming to the schismatics and it was becoming more difficult to keep up with these growing groups. They needed more men of priestly families to work, more leaders.
He was sitting amidst a storm of letters from the older men, reading of the goings-on in the groups in other towns and cities. So far things were stable but that would change. He picked up the red leather-bound book. The Book of Nagilla. Lady Trione had given it to him. He could not convince her to leave Jhis. She was so rooted in Jhis that it was difficult for her to imagine starting life somewhere else.
"I am too old to grow new roots, Zarhaz." She said sadly. He remembered her elegant face and kind smile. He remembered the sad letter from one of his sources a few months ago, letting him know that she had passed away. He thought perhaps he should send out a letter to see if there were any distant relations still in Jhis. It made him suddenly think of her son, Demos. It saddened him even more to know that his parents had died without ever knowing what happened to him. Zarhaz hoped that where ever Demos was in the world that he was well. The thing was, paper was becoming scarce and he had to conserve it. It was expensive and as he was now banished from the Golden Temple and all of the other smaller temples in the land he no longer had access to the same things he once did.
The schismatics had now become a serious threat that the Ainash wanted to eradicate. Thankfully, they met in secret and the priesthood did not know who they were. Men like himself were hidden by friends and moved from place to place to keep from being found by the temple guard.
There was a quiet knock on the door. Zarhaz got up and peered through the window. He was upstairs where he could see who was approaching the house or the street. It was Luriah, one of his trusted elder men still operating in the temple. He hurried downstairs and opened the door. Luriah slipped in, his face covered and wearing worn, poor robes as to not draw attention to himself. Zarhaz quickly shut the door and locked it behind him.
"I have moved upstairs for the time being. The family who used to live here moved to Galieh so for now I have the house to myself." Luriah peered around.
"Quite spacious. Try to stay here as long as you can."
"So what news, my brother?"
"You heard they took poor Seriah and his family and threw them all in prison? It was last night they came for them. I did not hear about it before I could send someone to
warn them. I get the feeling I am being shut out of certain circles, Zarhaz."
"That is what happened to me. Do they suspect you?"
"I do not know. I fear suspicion."
"We must do something to get them out. They will be tortured, even the children. The Ainash are merciless."
"I am thinking of a plan. But there is something that took me by surprise."
"Speak!"
"The priesthood is in trouble with the king. The High Priest's father, Lord Tybbl-Awat is dead. He died suddenly at the king's banquet feast."
"He was old as the mountains."
"Yes but this was an unnatural death and guess who was the cause of it?"
"Who?"
"The prophet. He was struck down dead at Ilim's word."
"Ilim never said anything about it! Neither did Anet!"
"I know but this is what I am hearing everywhere at the temple and in other places. A letter arrived from the Golden Temple saying as much. Something is different, Zarhaz. The priesthood is afraid. I have never seen them like this before. There are factions starting to form and they are fighting amongst each other. They do not want the manner of Lord Tybble-Awat's death to get out. And not only that, but the High Priest himself has been arrested!" Zarhaz's mouth dropped open.
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