Kelven's Riddle Book Two

by Daniel Hylton

  He sat on a rock and examined the plain below him, immediately to the south of the mountain, which was in the center of his viewpoint. After a few moments he saw it; a thin gray line running straight outward from the base of the mountain across the plain and through a broken gap in the wall of the crater rim. The ancient road. It would mean relatively quick egress from the crater once he got off the mountain. He had been dreading the poisonous fissures of the plain and the treacherous climb up the sheer wall but this appeared to solve that problem, even if the gap to the south was filled with masses of rubble.

  He studied the lay of the world beyond the rim of the crater to the south. If he went out that way, it would bring him up onto the rim of the crater at a point a hundred miles or so southeast of the high plateau and due east of the mountains that separated the forests of Seneca from the Inland Sea and the high plains of the horses to the west.

  He looked long at those mountains. They were the range that Florm had told him were utterly impassable to horses and probably to men as well. As Aram studied them he was not so sure of this assessment. The range of mountains made a right turn, like an elbow, just to the southeast of the crater. One branch went due south, rugged and steep on both sides, and formed the border between the Inland Sea and Seneca. It would do him no good to try and go through any of those high, formidable passes. Even if he succeeded, the sea would lie between him and the high plains.

  But the other range that went west from the elbow interested him. They were every bit as rough and rugged and high but would provide direct access to the high plains if he could get through them. Because of the altitude of the plateau that bordered that range on the north which actually ended at the rim of the crater, instead of falling dramatically away from it as did the land of Seneca on the south, some of the passes through that range began just a few thousand feet or so above the level of the plateau. Once through one of those passes, he believed, his journey would be mostly downhill or at least on somewhat of a level tangent and thus more negotiable.

  His eye traveled around the rim of the crater from the gap in the south westward to where the forests of Seneca ended in rocky hills that tumbled up to the level of the plateau and into the elbow of the mountains. It was impossible to know, looking at that land from this height and distance, but he could see nothing obvious that would wreck his plans.

  The more he gazed out over the world, the more excited he became, and the more anxious to leave the mountain. The suit of armor, given to him for the retrieval of the sword, would, the Guardians had informed him, protect him from great changes in temperature. It had protected him from the heat of the furnace in the heart of the sun – though admittedly with great assistance from the Four – surely it would provide him some protection from the ravages of winter.

  He went back to the house, somewhat late for lunch, but found that food had been left for him. He did not see Sera again that day, or Kelven.

  Three days passed. He had no more interest in the grandeur of Kelven’s house or in the glass that looked toward Manon’s tower so he spent most of each morning and afternoon sitting at the southern edge of the valley, gazing out over the world below, plotting the route by which he would leave the crater and get across the rest of the country that surrounded the mountain.

  On the third day, a storm was upon the earth from Seneca all the way west over the high plains, the plateau, his valley, and Vallenvale beyond. Only the highest peaks showed above the cloud cover. Nevertheless, he stayed there for most of the morning, gazing eastward beyond the storm at the broken mesas and buttes of Farlong.

  At noon, he went back to the house. When he went in to lunch, Kelven and Sera were there, seated at the far end of the table. Kelven, as always, appeared tired. He looked up as Aram came in.

  “Sera tells me you intend to leave us.”

  “I waited for your permission to go, my lord.” Aram answered carefully. “If you need that I should stay a while, I will stay.”

  Kelven shook his head wearily. “No. You are your own man, and you have that for which you came. I would ask, however, that you spend the latter portion of this day with me. There are things I must tell you.”

  “As you wish, my lord.”

  Kelven rose and moved toward the door that led to the front of the house. “I am going to sit by the spring for a time, Aram. When you have finished eating, please join me.”

  “Yes, my lord.”

  Aram found Kelven and Sera sitting close together on the bench that faced the bubbling pool of the spring. He sat on the bench opposite and waited, enjoying the warmth of the midday sun. Kelven sat quietly for several minutes, gazing into the water. Finally, he looked at Aram and fixed him with his piercing blue eyes.

  “I think, my young friend, that you may be the most unique person ever to walk the earth.” He said.

  “Why do you say that, my lord?”

  Kelven returned his gaze to the water. “You’ll forgive me for being blunt, Aram, but never in all the ages of the world has one so low been entrusted with such great power.”

  Before he could stop himself, Aram frowned at his host. “I already told you, my lord –”

  Kelven raised a hand. “And I heard you, Aram. I have no intention of going over old ground. It was an observation, nothing more. But it is a unique situation; one that, if you act wisely, will impart to you certain advantages.”

  Aram nodded in reply but said nothing.

  Kelven gazed across the rolling pool of blue at the tall dark trees beyond. “I am to impart to you certain facts about the use of the sword and armor. Some, you have already heard, but bear repeating.”

  “I understand.”

  “First, it is yours to use, Aram. This had been specified at the highest level. But beware. When the sword is unsheathed, it will seek the sun. Literally. It will pull toward the body of the star that gave it birth. This is vital, Aram.”

  He glanced over and Aram nodded.

  “You are a strong man, but it is powerful and you will feel its urge to return. If the sun is to your left, it will pull left. If to your right, it will pull right. At night, when the sun is on the other side of the world, it will be heaviest to wield, for it will seek to penetrate the earth. It will be most dangerous to use then. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, my lord.”

  “Through the middle hours of the day, when the sun is generally overhead, it will be easiest to wield – it will be light as a feather in your hand. That is also the time – and you must hear this, Aram – when it is most powerful.”

  He glanced at Aram and again Aram nodded his understanding.

  “Only your hand may wield it, Aram. No one else must even touch it. And you must wear the gauntlets when the sword is in your hand. Otherwise, it will burn your flesh from your bones – indeed; it will destroy you if you dare to touch it unguarded. If ever you die, it cannot remain here on this world. At the moment of your death, the Guardians will take it up and return it to the place of its origin.”

  The god was silent for a long moment as his gaze wandered over his sculpted grounds. He stood and walked to the edge of the water where he turned and looked back at Aram. “This is the most important thing, Aram.”

  Aram watched him and waited.

  “It was made for one purpose – to destroy Manon.”

  “I understand, my lord. It is for that purpose that I desired it.”

  “Do not be cavalier, Aram.” The god spoke with a hard edge to his voice. “I was instructed specifically to tell you this one thing. This weapon was made to destroy Manon – not to defeat him but to destroy him.”

  Aram shook his head in consternation. “Forgive me, my lord, but what is the difference? In my mind the one means the other.”

  “That may be, Aram.” The god admitted. “I was instructed to tell you, nonetheless.”

  “Either way, my lord, I intend to remove Manon from the world – if I can.”

  Kelven nodded slowly. “If you survive the coming years
and the many battles that will be necessary to gain access to him; if you can find a way to face him alone, you will have the chance to defeat him, to destroy him. All our hopes stand upon this eventuality.”

  He moved away from the spring and came back and sat beside Sera. “Now, about the armor.”

  “Yes, my lord?”

  “You are correct in thinking that it will protect from extremes of heat and cold, but there are limits to its strength in that regard. Had it not been for the protection of the Astra inside the body of the star, you would have died inside the space of a moment, burned to less than ashes. Remember that. Also, it is a very potent material and will deflect most projectiles but, if something as strong as a lasher gets close enough to drive a pike straight into you, it can be pierced. Remember this, Aram. The armor makes you stronger and safer – greatly so – but not invincible.”

  “I will remember.”

  There was silence then for a while. The three of them sat in the discreet light of the sun and listened to the birds singing in the trees and the gentle gurgle of the spring. Kelven stirred himself.

  “So, you mean to leave.” It was a statement.

  Aram nodded. “I do, my lord.”

  “Even though it is deep in the winter everywhere below?”

  “Yes.”

  “You understand that I cannot help you in that regard? I am no longer able to affect the weather beyond this mountain.”

  “I understand, my lord.”

  Kelven nodded. “Sera will prepare you a pack of foods that are light and will last many days. And you may wish to take some clothing with you, Aram. Choose what you will from the closet, it is at your disposal. None else will ever require it.”

  “Thank you, my lord.”

  Kelven looked at him. “You will leave in the morning?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then I will see you off. Now, however, I must rest.” The god stood and turned toward the house, followed by Sera. “Good evening, Aram.”

  “Good evening, my lord.”

  In the morning, breakfast was on the table as always. Along with a new knapsack filled with dried venison and dehydrated fruits of all kinds. There was also a leather canteen, larger and better than the one that he’d made from deerskin and brought with him up the mountain. He ate and then went to his room where he collected his things, including his bow and his steel sword – he would need an everyday weapon – and found his old knapsack which, he discovered, Sera had repaired and improved.

  He went through the closet and found some trousers and a couple of shirts – green and gray, rather plain but solid, to his liking – which he packed in his old knapsack. The armor he also packed into the knapsack; he would not need it until he left the influence of the mountain. He looked around the room one last time and then went out. He found Kelven and Sera by the pool.

  The sun had not cleared the wall of the mountain to the east but its light was already angling into the western reaches of the dead valley beyond the trees.

  “It is time, my lord.” He said.

  Kelven looked up. “We will walk with you to the far side of the trees.”

  They went out through the tall dark forest to the edge of the dead land where they stood for a few moments gazing out over the valley together, and then Aram stepped several paces out beyond the trees and turned to face them. He studied Kelven’s handsome face for a moment and then bowed low.

  “Thank you, my lord, for everything.”

  Kelven smiled wryly. “I am not what you expected, am I?”

  “You are what you are, my lord” Aram answered seriously and honestly. “And you have made my path clearer to my eyes than any other has ever done. If I do not fail in the task that is before me, for which you have prepared me so well; then this meeting between us will have been the salvation of my people. I am very grateful, my lord.”

  Surprise registered on the god’s face. After a moment, he inclined his head slightly. “My thoughts will go with you, my son.” He said, and his ancient, cultured voice trembled along its edges.

  Aram bowed again and then turned to Sera. She met his gaze with solemn, earnest eyes. “The grace of the Maker go with you, Lord Aram.”

  “And with you, my lady.” He stepped back, looked at them both for a moment, and then turned away and went down the valley toward the gap in the far end. A while later, as he was climbing one of the windrowed piles of bleached lasher bones he looked toward the northern end of the valley. They had gone, back through the trees. Almost certainly, he would never see either of them again.

  Seven

  As he left the valley in the summit of the mountain, he regained the road where it left the gap and angled down across the sloping meadow. He started down it, and then stopped. The road wound down around the mountain to the right and disappeared behind a small stand of fir trees a half-mile away and a hundred feet lower. Turning, he looked to the left where the stream left the meadow and plunged over the side of the mountain.

  After thinking about it a moment, he left the road and crossed the meadow and gazed down the steep flank of the mountain as it fell toward the south. The mountainside was treacherously steep; it was true, but not impassable. And going straight down the mountain, however difficult, would get him to the crater floor much more quickly than winding down the spiraling road.

  It had taken him almost three full weeks to climb up and around the mountain on the road. It would take nearly as long to retrace his steps downward along that road and the thought of losing that much more time left him cold. There were three months of winter left, more or less, but if he were to succeed in passing through the mountains onto the high plains, then there were at least two hundred miles of unknown country to negotiate, much of it extremely rough and buried in snow. And he wanted to be on the high plains before spring; there was no luxury of time. He adjusted his weapons and his pack, and slipped over the edge.

  The next few days were a seemingly unending misery of slips down grassy slopes, and uncontrolled slides down rocky defiles, jarring his knees and all his other joints, spilling his two packs again and again. He struggled down through thick stands of tangled brush, and navigated his way over the jumbled roots of enormous trees. He fell often and became bruised and sore. But at the end of it, he was off the mountain in seven days.

  He reached the floor of the crater at the spot where the road curved down off the mountain from the east, bridged the stream one last time, and turned out across the plain toward the south. A week after bidding Kelven and Sera goodbye, he stood upon level ground, bruised and battered, and gazed southward across the crater along the straight line of a road of smooth stone that would begin his journey home.

  It was late in the day; the sun sat just above the rim of the crater to the west. The cold wind was present as always, blowing from his right to his left. He gazed southward at the broken gap in the crater’s rim, forty, perhaps fifty miles distant. Using the road, walking fast, jogging even, occasionally, he might make the distance in one long, hard day. He decided to spend another night on the mountain’s slope and go at first light on the next morning.

  He ate again of the mountain’s fresh bounty as he had during the course of his descent, saving the dried meat and fruit that Sera had packed for the tough days ahead. He slept well one last time in the warm influence of a stand of the eternally green trees on Kelven’s mountain.

  Before dawn, while the floor of the crater was still in gloom, he awoke and dressed into the armor, secured his packs and his weapons, and started along the road. He walked briskly at first but as his muscles loosened and the sun rose, he started jogging. When he grew winded, he slowed again to a brisk walk. This became his regimen for the day – alternately walking and jogging as the lofty mass of the mountain fell behind him and the rim of the crater began to rise into the southern sky.

  Though the roadway was a bit cooler than the surface of the plain that surrounded it, and he was wearing Kelven’s armor; he still did not relish the thought
of spending a night on the crater’s floor. He hoped that by moving quickly along the sound, firm rock of the roadbed, he could make the gap in the southern wall of the rim before nightfall. There would be a moon later, but it was waning and wouldn’t rise until a couple of hours before morning.

  He ate while moving, keeping doggedly on, and allowed himself ample gulps of water from his full canteen. As the sun crossed the zenith and tipped toward the west, it appeared to him that he would make the gap before the light failed that night. He didn’t look back and he seldom looked forward except to judge the diminishing distance to the crater wall, opting instead to keep his eyes on the road and his legs moving. He was in good shape despite the bruising descent, and well-rested; he ran as much as he could.

  When the sun dropped below the mountains that rose above the crater’s rim to the southwest, he looked up. The dark wall of the crater was no more than five or six miles distant. He determined to go on even after darkness fell. Full night came on but the roadbed was easy to follow, laid as it was with a whitish rock that contrasted with the darker plain around it even with nothing stronger than starlight to grant the distinction.

  He reached the crater wall two hours later and found the roadway leading up through the gap filled with huge boulders and crumbled rock from the rim above. Finding his way across that mess in the deep of night was not possible. Manon’s ancient army had accomplished their task thoroughly.

  As he prepared to bed down, Aram pondered this action those long-dead lashers had taken and found it puzzling. Why close the road? Manon, of course, had known that none of his servants would come back down from the summit of the mountain, and the lashers themselves had followed his orders without giving the matter any thought. But why would he want the road closed?

  By the time the task of sealing the mountain off from the world of men was undertaken, Joktan had already been finished, the armies of the allies destroyed, and Seneca ravaged. Who was left on the earth at that time that would have sought counsel from the mountain at the middle of the world? Perhaps, he thought, Manon had not been certain of the outcome of his confrontation with Kelven and accomplished this last act of destruction with his doomed army as a matter of course.