Their debate concluded, they sent for both Lord Serant and King Jarom and the two quickly and graciously withdrew to hear the count as it was written, and within the span of a few minutes retook their positions back in the main section of the chamber. The chancellors followed the two and moved to the center of the great hall.
Regally, Chancellor Van’te stood and raised his eyes to gaze unto the throng. Harshly, he cleared his voice and then began to speak these words, “Let it be known that on this day and henceforth all contentions surrounding our most regal office have justly and fairly been settled. All in attendance have been afforded the opportunity to voice their minds and have done so. I hold in my hands the official count, signed by representatives of opposing parties. These words inscribed herein are law, and henceforth will they ring throughout our lands. Lord Serant of the Western Territories rise. King Jarom of Vostok rise.”
Chancellor Van’te paused and took a deep breath. “Do you, Lord Serant, understand the law of just dispute?”
“Yes, of course. You know I do.”
“Do you King Jarom understand the law of just dispute?”
“Yes, certainly.”
“Then do you both agree to the trial?”
“Yes.”
“Yes.”
“To ensure the absoluteness of the ruling set forth this day, Lord Serant and King Jarom have agreed to settle their dispute according to the rules of the commoner.”
Hurriedly, the three raced back to the square. All appeared to be normal as the crowd dispersed, but Seth could still feel an overwhelming sense of evil emanating from somewhere within the throng of people. His mind reeled and went back through the past piece by piece, searching. “Had I been so preoccupied with the dilemma that I had failed to notice its source? How could I be so foolish?” he thought to himself as he traversed the maze in his mind.
As they approached closer to the platform, the presence grew stronger. He looked with horror to the platform. The Queen-Mother, Tsandra, Ylad’, Nikol, Ontyv, and Samyuehl were all there, circled around Valam’s fallen form. He tried to reach out to them with his mind and warn them; he could not. They were all trapped in the enticement as he had been; nothing could reach them.
Seth carefully signaled Cagan and Liyan to sweep around to the backside of the platform. He made the signals with his hands, for now he dared not risk even using the simplest of his powers any more. As one the three jumped onto the dais, they knew the creature perceived their approach and they also knew they were too late.
Valam rose as the vile being spawned within his body. In the single sweeping of its clawed hands it raked through the onlookers. Tsandra, Ylad’, and Nikol fell to the ground. Their bodies offered but a single shudder as their threads were released to the winds and as readily as a babe hungrily laps its mother’s milk, the creature devoured their waning souls.
Together, Seth, Cagan, and Liyan descended upon the creature, knocking it back to the ground. They held it there only for an instant while the creature mocked their feeble attempt to stop it. It bathed in their anger and then laughed a deep hideous laugh.
“King Mark sends his warmest greetings!” it boomed as it gripped Cagan and Liyan around the throat. Seth battered the being’s head heavily onto the platform to no avail. Cagan and Liyan were drawn with it downward, struggling to free the death grip from around their throats as they fell.
Brother Ontyv slowly reclaimed his senses. He saw the struggle and knew the danger, yet his first priority lay with the safety of the Queen-Mother. It was not until after Ontyv had pulled her from the platform that she regained her senses. As she did, the shock of the events hit her and she knew why the creature had won its way into their inner selves. She knew why it had been able to mask its presence from them, and why it had so enticed them. She also knew how it must be destroyed.
Finally, Cagan and Liyan managed to free themselves and now held down the creature’s arms. Seth held the dark one’s head down with one hand and unsheathed his dagger with the other. He plunged it fully into the being’s heart.
The creature only laughed louder and smiled as its strength grew with each passing second. Seth sank the dagger into its chest repeatedly, until he began to feel his energy ebb. He could do nothing except wait as his end came. The creature drank in his soul.
The Queen-Mother rang these words out across the reaches of time and across the lengths of the land, “There is nothing but love in my heart. Only joy and love abide herein, for I am the Queen-Mother. Only love and harmony exist in my mind. Love for all dwells within my heart. My body is one with all in peace and harmony. I hold love in my heart for Valam.”
Tears flowed freely down the Queen-Mother’s cheeks, as never before, as the vision began to fade and dim. Her whole inner spirit writhed and shouted out to her senses to stop what she had set in motion before it was too late. She wondered at the price the Father had paid to bestow upon her the gift. She understood the wrong that must be corrected and the repercussions if she didn’t, but she couldn’t force herself to move.
She closed her eyes and replayed the images in her mind; vividly they lingered. They raced faster and faster and in the span of a single heartbeat, she was back on the platform, watching as the creature killed her brethren. She saw Valam run into the crown and watched again as they trampled him. She watched as the life drained forever from his lips.
The Queen-Mother strove to deny the truth of the warning, but it would not be disclaimed. She knew what she must do, and so she did it, as she had done before. In a burst of emotion, she opened her eyes and retreated from the tower window. She ran, faster than she had ever run before, down the stairs.
“Valam! Wait! Oh, please wait! I can find love for you!” screamed the Queen-Mother, as she ran. “I mean. I will honor our union and I will try to find the truth of my heart.” She almost bit her lip on the last few words. They had issued from her so effortlessly, without meaning, until she said them. After she said them, she could not deny their truth.
Valam stopped cold as he entered the hall adjacent to the tower. He turned and strained his ears to ensure that what he heard was real. When the words repeated in his mind, he knew they indeed were real and not his imagination. He replied loudly in kind, repeating her words to him.
He raced back up the winding stairs, his hearted pounding rapidly as he did so, and his body began to tremble as he crossed the few last steps that remained between them. He grasped the queen’s outstretched hands in his own and pulled her close to him.
They pressed closer and closer together, staring deeply into each other’s eyes; the sound of their deep breathing resounded through the tower. They stood thus, afraid to move for what seemed an eternity but was actually only a moment in time.
Finally the queen inched her lips forward until they touched Valam’s, then she pressed them full against his. He returned her caress with equal fervor. Suddenly the queen pulled away as a thought returned to her mind.
She held tightly to one of Valam’s hands as she raced down the stairs, almost pulling him behind her. “What is it?” he protested. “We must hurry! Come!” responded the queen.
They reached the bottom of the stairs but did not stop running. The queen raced through several narrow corridors with Valam a pace behind her. As they turned a corner into the central hall, they had to halt to avoid smacking into Evgej. With only a slight hesitation, the queen continued down the corridor. Valam returned Evgej’s puzzled look and waved for him to follow.
The queen went straight through the audience hall that Seth and his red-clad followers filled, out the great doors, down the stairs, and into the courtyard. The crowd of brown-clad warriors parted the way as she mounted the central platform in a slow, stately manner, fully regaining her composure.
“What is it? What is happening?” yelled Evgej as he followed Valam and the queen. “I don’t know!” replied Valam.
“No! Really, what is it?”
“I really don’t know!” yelled Valam as
he struggled to keep up.
“Tsandra!”
“Yes, my queen,” came the response.
“Come here.”
Tsandra mounted the platform and whispered into the queen’s mind, “You needn’t tell me, I already know what you will say. I, we all, heard your pledge.”
The Queen-Mother gazed out into the crowd and knew Tsandra’s words to be true. “My daughter, let me look into your eyes and see your heart.” Hesitantly, Tsandra obeyed. The queen smiled. “It is I who am sorry.”
“This day has been doubly blessed! Our hopes have been fulfilled. Last night the future of two peoples has been insured. The child of East and West will be! Also, I have been allowed the gift of sight and in so doing, the Father has also given his blessing to my greatest wish. I have been allowed to love someone as I have never known before if it is in my heart to do so and I think it may be. Valam and I may one day be as one, but the time still lies in the distant future. We must first win a war! To do that, we must prepare a defense like none has ever seen before. We must continue on schedule with our plans. Today’s departure must remain on time!”
The Queen-Mother paused during the loud cheering of the crowd. A chant began to grow; it was the chant of greatest rejoicing for the return of the king, a song that had not been heard in generations.
Tsandra searched for the proper words to begin what she needed to say; unable to find anything she thought suitable, she just stumbled into it, “Queen-Mother, may I offer the services of the Order of the Brown. It will prove my faith to you.”
“Brother Seth, it is up to you?”
“Valam?”
“It would be an honor.”
“Thank you,” spoke Tsandra enthusiastically. She began barking commands to her order to form up and stand ready then excused herself to begin the preparations. “Shall we prepare to depart?” Seth asked Valam. Valam was slow to respond. Hesitantly he turned his gaze from the queen and turned to Seth.
“Ahh, yes. Is there anything that needs to be readied?”
“All preparations are basically set. We need only to find Cagan and Liyan, my queen.”
“Yes, Brother Seth, follow everything as planned. You have my permission.”
“Thank you.”
Valam leaned close to the queen and quietly intoned, “I—I.”
“I, too. You must go!” said the queen, harsher than she wished, as she strained to hold at bay the emotions within her. She quickly added, “I think I know where you can find Cagan and Liyan. Try the docks.”
“That is what I thought,” said Seth as he departed, followed by Evgej and Valam. Valam looked back just before he exited the square, but the platform was already empty. The three walked toward the docks and, as expected, Cagan’s boat was just returning. Evgej caught the line Cagan offered and tied the ship to the dock. He held back a laugh when Liyan stepped off the boat after Cagan.
The Queen-Mother watched from a window high above. She nodded her head in approval as they hurriedly moved back into the palace. A man clad in dark-colored robes walked out onto the balcony beside her. He whispered into her mind, “My queen, is it time?”
“No,” came the response into his thoughts, “just follow; I will tell you when it is time.”
By early afternoon, a large contingent was mounted and waiting before the far gates of the palace with Tsandra, Seth, Liyan, Cagan, Valam, and Evgej at the fore of the group; a mass of brown clad riders filed in long columns behind the lead six. A second formation of riders stretched horizontally across the courtyard.
The queen crossed to her platform, her emotions controlled behind the mask of her face as she looked over the group from rear to front, wishing each rider a safer return. She paused at the last rider and wished him her love. She ordered the central gates opened and bid the group a final farewell.
The brigade slowly strode through the city. A gate in a hillside near the outer walls lead to a wide tunnel that carried them beneath the waters of the great lake. At the exit of the tunnel on the opposite shore they were forced to wait until the supply caravans joined them; then they continued on their way. As they rode away, Valam occasionally looked back toward Leklorall’s spiraling towers and mighty walls. His heart was not in riding this day; he longed to be somewhere else but knew he could not.
The vision flowed strongly; it would not fade. Vilmos felt the surge of strength within him peak beyond the limits of his mind. The power became him and he became the power. He could not control it, nor could it control him. They were two entities wrapped in turmoil in each other’s arms.
“Where will you go now, my friend? Where is it you think you can hide? There is no place to flee to; you only run from yourself.”
“But I know where I must go and what I must do.”
“Do not lie to me, for you cannot lie to yourself.”
“Still your tongue or I will invoke pain within you that will be so great your soul will cry out for death, but I will not let you pass. I will hold your spirit at bay until the pain grows within you to such an intensity that your spirit will wish itself from existence.”
“You most of all should know true death, but lest you not forget its curse, I will welcome the day I return to walk through the halls of your memories, as I already have and will throughout eternity.”
“Then it is you, old friend.”
“Of course it is I, who else could it be?”
“But you are dead.”
“So are you; we are both long since passed.”
“Yes! Last time we met, I defeated you.”
“No, we destroyed each other.”
“Correction! I destroyed you both!”
“I do not understand; why, then, am I here?”
“Yes, why?”
“I have brought you back to learn from. I need your knowledge, and I will have it.”
“Do you think you can order us, as if we were children? Each of us has the power to utterly destroy you at will and yet you talk to us as if we were token pawns.”
“You are quite right. You are token pawns, the fools on the board, and I am your master.”
Vilmos received a crushing blow to the head; excruciating pain filled every fiber of his being. He cried out into the darkness of the night. He searched within his mind striving to force the vision away. The two would not go; they could not go. The third spoke in a voice that caused Vilmos’ mind to recoil. The image of the last began to clear, and though it was a shadow of himself, Vilmos failed to recognize it. He could not, for he did not want to.
Vilmos watched as the three began to circle each other methodically, each assessing the other. The two old friends smiled cynically at the third. They knew what they must do, and so they did it. Wildly, they attacked each other, creating a vortex of swirling energies.
“Go away!” cried out a small voice, “Go away now!”
The thoughts would not go. They demanded to be heard and recognized. They demanded to be alive. Vilmos clasped his ears and pounded his head into the ground, until the wetness of blood dripping down his face soaked the ground about him. The pain within him was replaced by the pain from without; only then at the moment of unconsciousness did the voices fade from his thoughts.
Nijal raced his mount toward the leader, his sword and dagger raised ready to plunge. He screamed his battle cry of defiance strong and true; then the two horses collided. The leader had not expected Nijal to reach him; the shock was evident on his face as he was knocked sprawling.
In an instant, the other riders stopped; they thirstily began to circle Nijal. He did not flinch under their scrutiny. His weapons remained erect and challenging.
“Your death will come easy, put down your weapons and we will not harm you!”
“I spit on your offering of surrender; no free man ever surrenders willingly. I am a free man.”
“And will die as such!” the words rang out before Nijal could finish them. “The free man’s code, where did you learn it?”
“Why,
from my father of course,” said Nijal spurring his mount into a charge at the speaker. He leapt from his mount, throwing the rider back to the ground. Nijal dropped his sword to free his hand to hold the man, while his other held a dagger firm against the man’s throat.
“Tell them to stop the attack. Tell them now or you will die!”
“I cannot. We will both die then.”
“Tell them, or I’ll slit your throat!” yelled Nijal while he pulled the man’s head back by his hair with his free hand. The other stared into Nijal’s eyes unafraid.
The light of torches increased about them while the two struggled. Nijal knew his fate was soon coming. He had accomplished what he had hoped for. He had given his friends a chance to escape, and that was all he had wanted. He would die, but he would take this man with him.
“I, Nijal, son of Geoffrey, take your life with that of mine!” said Nijal as he raised his dagger to plunge deeply, insuring the other’s demise. The man released a blood curdling cry, “Nijal? No! Nijal, don’t.” It was too late; Nijal thrust downwards with his blade.
Strong hands grabbed Nijal’s arm and held his dagger at bay. Nijal gritted his teeth and cursed, thrusting downward with all his weight, never faltering in his determination. “Nijal, son of Geoffrey—don’t! It is I,” screamed the other.
Thoughts and sounds exploded in Nijal’s mind; with a puzzled frown, he allowed his weapon to be pulled from his hand. “Release him at once! Stop! Stop! Go now and tell them to stop the chase. Go! These are friends!”
Shchander continued to yell and wave his hands wildly in the air until everyone began to listen to him. He helped Nijal to his feet, grabbed the nearest torch and pushed it close to Nijal’s face. “Look!” he yelled, “It is Nijal. Nijal, I tell you. Get Geoffrey quickly!”
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