When Aram finished, Kelven smiled. “We need to talk when you have rested. I have been given specific instructions that are to be passed on to you.” He stood. “Perhaps tomorrow or the next day – I need to rest as well. Sleep well, Aram. You know the way to your room.”
He turned to go, stopped and pivoted.
“Never unsheathe the sword, Aram, unless you intend to use it – unless the need to use it is dire. It may bring unwanted attention upon you. Certainly, do not unsheathe it on this mountain.”
Aram was weary, body and mind, and found it difficult to focus. “What do you mean, my lord? Whose attention?”
Kelven spread his hands. “That of many, Aram. Did you not hear the great lords? There are many that covet this thing.”
He was exhausted, his mind numb. “Why?” He blurted out.
The god was exasperated at his stupidity, born of weariness though it was. “Do you really not understand? Do you really not know what this thing is? It is a conduit for the very energy that powers the universe. It is a work of the Maker Himself.”
Aram roused himself at this and frowned. “But Sera called it the Sword of Humber.”
“Yes.” Kelven nodded. “It was, in fact, Humber’s hand that constructed it. But the Maker devised it and instructed Humber in its making. It is His work. There are many in the heavens and upon the earth that would go to great lengths to possess it if they could.” He sighed. “Especially Manon. When he learns of its presence here, he, above all others, will want it.”
The god came closer to the table and leaned forward slightly, gazing at Aram earnestly. “You must understand, Aram, that those in authority have taken a great chance in placing this weapon in your hands – it puts many things at risk.”
Aram stood, adjusting the sword on his back, needing rest desperately and tired of the discussion. “With all due respect, my lord, if something isn’t done to stop Manon; it is my people who are most at risk.”
“Maybe.” The god agreed but his eyes narrowed. “And maybe that risk is compounded by your possession of a thing of such power.”
There it was again, Aram realized – suspicion and uncertainty about his character and how future actions on his part might very well render that suspicion well-founded. He felt his anger rise and was too tired to check it. “If my having this thing terrifies everyone so much; then why give it to me? Why go to such great lengths to make sure that I do, in fact, possess it?”
Kelven held up his hands, palms outward. “Because it is not really our choice, Aram. The Maker in His wisdom has decided that it must be one of your people that destroys Manon – that punishes him for his evil. It must be a man. And you have been chosen.”
“Then we come to that which matters most to me.” Aram stated flatly. “This weapon will, in fact, destroy Manon?”
“It will.” Kelven answered. “It was made for that purpose.”
Aram pushed in his chair and stood behind it, fixing the god with cold eyes. “Then that is all that I will require of it. Afterwards, you may have it back. I do not covet it – I only want it for what it can do for my people. You may believe that or not, my lord; I do not care. Anyway, I have it now and I will keep it. It will remain in my possession until my work is finished or I am dead.”
Kelven met his gaze for a long moment. The only sound in the room was the crackling of the fireplace. Then he nodded slightly, turned away and faded from view, going toward the eastern side of the house.
Aram watched him go and then went to his room. His whole body ached and his head felt as if a bell had been rung incessantly and insistently inside its confines for hours. He pulled off the thin metal boots, laid the sword on the bed and curled up beside it. Then, even though it was a bright, full morning outside the window, he fell asleep almost instantly.
Sometime later, he awoke for a moment and the world outside was dark. He stared at the bright stars twinkling in the thin air above the trees and then closed his eyes and faded again.
He awoke to find the courtyard beyond the window in deep shadow and the sky above the dark trees colored pink, whether with sunset or sunrise he could not tell. After a time the sky lightened toward morning and he got up, though he sat awhile on the side of the bed, for he was still stiff and sore, his muscles aching, as if his entire body had suffered a severe beating.
By the time morning broke over the courtyard outside, he had washed and dressed into his borrowed clothes and gone in search of breakfast. He took the sword with him, slung over his back. Sera sat in the dining hall alone, in Kelven’s seat. She had prepared food and placed it on the end of the table near Aram’s customary chair.
“Good morning, my lord,” she said, surprising him with a respectful tone as she used the title. “How are you feeling today?”
He smiled as he sat and eyed her good food. “A bit rough, but better.”
She pointed at the hilt of the sword protruding above his left shoulder. “Is that it?”
He glanced up at her. “It is.”
“Then you are the man, indeed.”
“So it appears. Time will tell, my lady.”
She was silent for a while as he ate. Having slept for twenty hours or so, he was ravenous and Sera’s food was some of the finest fare he’d ever eaten. He intended to make the most of it for he’d already had the thought that morning that he might not be Kelven’s guest much longer. Now that he’d acquired that for which he’d come, he found that he was anxious to leave and re-enter the world below, winter or not.
Kelven’s mountain had not been exactly as he’d imagined. Rather than the seat of the god’s power, it was instead a mausoleum, the tomb of his lost potency, and the lonely woman sitting across from him was its sad caretaker.
Sera remained at the table while he finished his breakfast and it finally occurred to him that she wanted to talk. So when he had finished he raised his gaze and waited. She was staring at the fireplace which at this time contained only ashes, but she knew that his eye was upon her. Finally she turned and faced him.
“Lord Aram,” she said, and she turned back toward the fireplace as she continued, “my great master has been reduced – by his own actions – and he can do little or nothing to aid you directly.”
“I know.”
She looked at him. “Then do you also know why he stays?”
“I suppose it is because he would like to know how all this ends?”
“No.” She shook her head emphatically. “He could go to his long home and know how it ends – the very moment it ends. There are many among the stars that are watching very closely. He could go there and join them, and be whole again.”
She shook her head again and her eyes welled up. “No, Lord Aram. He stays because he is good.”
“I would never think of him otherwise, my lady.”
She dabbed at her eyes with a cloth and regained her composure. “He knows that the world can never be as it was, with the three powers guiding its course. Manon has turned to evil, and no one knows to what extent that evil runs. Ferros has gone into his deep realm and cares nothing for the concerns of others.
“And my great lord, who used to manage the life of this world with a fair and vibrant hand, can never affect its courses again. He knows that age is passed and cannot be restored.” She stood and walked to the dark and cold fireplace and a fierce undertone entered her voice. “But he refuses to leave while the future of this world is in such grave jeopardy. He will stay as long as there is hope of ending the madness and ushering in a new age – an age, Aram, in which your people will chart the courses of this world, free of the tyranny of Manon. He cannot go to his long home until it is finished.”
She glanced toward the eastern part of the house and her eyes softened. “He stays for the hope that he may yet have some part in restoring order and balance to this world. Whether he will admit it or not – and whether you know it or not – you are now the bearer of his hope.” She turned her head away and spoke more softly. “And of my hope.�
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Aram frowned. “My lady?”
Sera sighed deeply. “I will never leave Lord Kelven’s side. But I have lived on this mountain, surrounded by the ruins of everything that mattered to him for ten thousand years – years filled with regret and despair. There is nothing for us here. But, if Manon could be destroyed –”
“Ah.”
She smiled ruefully. “You carry the hopes of so many, Lord Aram. The addition of mine will surely not add that much to your burden?”
“There is only one burden upon me, my lady; and all our hopes are intertwined together in it.” He stood up. “It is the solution to everything. Manon must be destroyed and it has fallen to me to attempt it. So, I shall attempt it.”
He reached around with his right hand and patted the hilt of the sword. “Lord Kelven has made it possible for the fight to be more equal than it has ever been. I will go back into the world now and when the time is right, I will take that fight to Manon. It may be that I will prevail.”
She cocked her head and frowned at him in sudden comprehension. “My lord, you are leaving us?”
“I think so.”
“But it is the depths of winter.”
“It is,” he agreed. “But with Lord Kelven’s armor the cold will not be so bad, and I would like to be in my own land at the coming of spring.”
“Surely you will not leave without talking again with him?”
“No, my lady.”
“But he is at rest now.”
“I will wait,” he assured her, “until it is convenient for him to see me. I will not leave without his blessing.”
“Thank you for that.” She turned to go but he stopped her.
“My lady?”
She stopped and faced him.
“My lady, you said that men used to come here before the way was closed. What did you mean by that? Is there, or was there once, better access to this mountain than crossing the barren plain?”
She nodded. “There is a road that runs due south across the plain and through a cut in the crater wall toward the land of Seneca. Before it was closed it allowed men to cross the plain and ascend the mountain in oxcarts.”
“Oxcarts? Why not ride horses? The mountain road is not too steep.”
“No.” She agreed. “But the horse people never came onto the mountain of Kelven. I don’t know why. I heard once that they flatly refused to cross the heated plain even though the road surface is a bit cooler than the plain around it. I don’t know if that was the true reason but they never came here. And after the way was closed only the hardiest of men could gain access. Of course, after the war, there were no men to come up the mountain, anyway.” An expression of significance entered her voice as she looked at him. “Until now.”
“Why was the way closed?”
“Seneca joined Joktan in his fight against Manon. When Manon brought his army to the mountain, he sent lashers into the forests of Seneca, killing and burning. Once, there were great cities in that land, among the oceans of trees. But Manon’s lashers burned the cities and towns and slaughtered the land’s inhabitants. What people remain there now, I understand, live as wild folk – hunters; living off the land, though there may be scattered towns and villages. They were great archers once, those people; Lord Kelven himself commented on their prowess with the bow.”
She stopped for a moment, frowning. “What did you ask? Oh, yes – the closing of the way. When Manon was finished with Seneca, before he assaulted the mountain, he broke the walls of the crater on either side of the pass, tumbling great rocks onto the road, closing it.”
Aram thought about it a moment. “Still, it ought to be easier to leave the crater that way than by attempting an ascent of the sheer walls where I came down. Faster, too.”
“Probably.” She agreed. “Though I cannot speak to that with certainty.”
He tentatively indicated the chair she had sat in earlier. “My lady, you know much of the world that I do not. May I ask you more questions?”
She hesitated a moment and then smiled as she returned to her chair. “Of course. The pace of my schedule these days is not overwhelming.”
Aram sat as well. “My lady, what do you know of the great cities to the south, near the ocean? Were they involved in the war with Manon?”
“It is my understanding that they mainly tried to stay out of it.”
“Why?” He frowned at her. “Do they not value their freedom?”
“I don’t think they saw it as cast in exactly those terms. I believe that they viewed the whole affair as a war between others and something that need not touch them directly.” She studied him for a moment. “Have you ever heard of the great civil war of our people?”
“Yes.” He nodded. “Florm told me of it.”
“Before that war, Lord Aram, our people were one. They were scattered far and wide across the earth, but they were one people. Though many never saw the wonders of Regamun Mediar, they nonetheless honored him as their king who ruled there.” She looked down at her hands, folded upon the table. “But the war lasted a long time, and it was vicious and bitter. Afterwards, the cities and lands that lied at great distances from the capitol became largely autonomous – even during the peace of Joktan.
“When war flared with Manon, it was Joktan and those people directly under his rule – the people of the king’s valley, Vallenvale, Wallensia, Seneca, the people of the great plains, and the horses, of course, that mainly fought that war. They were the greatest of all peoples, that alliance, it is true, but they were only a portion of the population of the world.
“Those people out beyond the direct reach of the conflict – the cities by the southern ocean, those that dwell on the isles of the sea, and those that live to the east of Kelven’s mountain, in that which is called the land of Farlong – tried to stay out of the fires of that war. They would abet one side and then the other, as they had during the civil war, hoping to gain favor with whoever won it all in the end.
“When Joktan was defeated and the great battle of the mountain finished and Manon reduced – I’m sure they thought him dead – they supposed that the age of gods and kings had gone forever and they turned largely inward and lived unto themselves, forgetting the past. They now had peace and plenty and cared not how it had been attained, or what its attainment had cost others.”
With the delivery of these lines, her voice had become laden with contempt and she fell silent as if regretting the exposure of her feelings and turned her head away and gazed again into the empty, cold fireplace.
Her revelations hinted to Aram that his hope for allies among those people might in fact be false, so he pressed her. “But the servants of Manon have come back among them these last few centuries.” He pointed out. “So now they know better. He is alive and powerful again and intends conquest. Surely, if given the opportunity and the means, they will resist him.”
Sera turned and smiled at him gently. “They are not like you, Aram. Have not been like you for a long time. The people of those cities care only for their commerce and their wealth and if they must give a portion of it in tribute to Manon and his servants to assuage him, they will think it a bargain.”
“But Manon wants more than mere tribute.” Aram protested.
“Of course he does.” She agreed. “He wants far more than their money or even their obedience. But he will let them think what they want as long as it serves his purposes. By the time they know better, as you put it, it will be much too late.”
“What is it that Manon wants, my lady? Other than the subjugation of the world, I mean. I’ve heard hints and speculation of something more but nothing definitive. Do you know what it is?”
Her features clouded over and her eyes grew troubled. “That is the great question, Aram. It vexes the gods daily. It certainly distresses Lord Kelven. I have observed him deep in anguished thought many times. No one knows for sure how far Manon means to reach, but he certainly wants more than just this one world. Although, somehow, in a way n
o one understands, the earth is the fulcrum by which he means to move the stars.”
“Then that is why the people of this world must stop him.” Aram said quietly.
Her eyes flashed as she gazed back at him. “And that is why those who will not join you – and I am afraid you will find them to be many – are so terribly foolish when they believe they can bargain with Manon. They are but kindling for the fire he intends to start in the universe.”
Aram hesitated. “My lady, that brings me to a question for which I can find no satisfactory answer.”
“What is it, Lord Aram?”
He held her gaze for a moment. “Why will the Maker not take a hand in this? Manon is doing, and intending to do, great evil. Why does not the Maker stop him?”
“I have often wondered. It is a question I have often put to Lord Kelven.” As she spoke her lord’s name, she rose and turned toward the east end of the hall. “But I can give you no answer, for I do not have one to give. That is a question you will have to put to Lord Kelven though I have done so myself many times without satisfaction. I think it likely that he does not have the answer, and it troubles him as it does you. I must go now, Lord Aram. Lunch will be served as usual.”
He watched her go and then left the house, going out into the front courtyard. It was a pleasant morning, as it always was on this mountain, and he decided to wander out to the end of the valley and look down upon the world. Probably, it would be hidden in the clouds of winter, but he needed to loosen his aching muscles and stretch his legs after his twenty hours of sleep and he also wanted to get away from the house for a while.
He went out the road between the tall trees and south across the dead valley until he came out through the gap to where the steep slope of the mountain fell away. Other than a few scattered thin clouds here and there over the world below him, the atmosphere was clear, except to the west beyond the plateau. There were thick clouds hanging over Vallenvale but the rest of the world was open to his view. There was bright snow everywhere, covering everything except the floor of the crater surrounding the mountain. Because of the eternal heat generated by that plain, snow could not last there.
Kelven's Riddle Book Two Page 9
