“My lord?”
“I want to go north into the foothills, this afternoon or tomorrow; to find an old friend. Would you consent to bear the lady Ka’en?”
Something flickered deep in the horse’s eyes and there was solemn pride in his voice as he answered. “It would be an honor, my lord.”
“Very well. Thank you.” Aram glanced past him, down the avenue toward the river. “Here come the wolves. Jared, if you will, fetch your man Nikolus and bring him back to the city. Tell him that he may bring Timmon if he likes.”
“At once, my lord.”
As the rangy brown horse galloped off across the rolling hills of the valley toward the southeast, the wolves came up, the men of Derosa returned with their belongings, and Aram invited everyone into the city’s great hall. Findaen set about making kolfa. The others piled their stuff against a wall.
Aram found a table that was large enough for all of them with benches that were still in good repair and invited everyone to sit. He sat at the end of the table, near the wall, with Ka’en on his left. Mallet sat on his right, two seats down, leaving room for Findaen. Jonwood and Wamlak sat beyond Mallet. Leorg sat down on the floor to Aram’s left, between him and Ka’en. Gorfang sat behind Ka’en, surprisingly near her, and studied the men of Derosa opposite for a moment before turning and fixing his gaze on Aram.
Alvern stepped carefully along the aisle, like an old man unsure of his footing, and then hopped up onto the bench to sit beyond Ka’en, on Aram’s left. Thaniel and Huram faced Aram from the other end of the table, standing side by side, looking at him along its length.
Aram stood. “Jared will return momentarily with Nikolus. There is a thing that I must fetch from my room. I will return shortly.”
He went up through the city to his room below the tower and retrieved the sacks of gold coins. Before returning to the hall, he went out on the great porch, walked to its southern end and called for Willet. After a few moments the hawk came gliding up to hover on the air. Aram looked up at him.
“Is Cree on the nest, my friend?”
“Yes.” The bird answered. “But I may spell her if you need her, my lord.”
Aram shook his head. “I only need to know if she can spare you for an hour or so, my friend.”
“She will sit the nest for most of this day, my lord.” The bird answered. “I am at your service.”
“Will you come into my great hall, Willet?”
The hawk looked up at the arches at the front of the city and then returned his gaze to Aram. “Out from under the sky?”
“Yes.”
“If you wish it, my lord.”
“Then come.”
The bird twisted down and sat on his shoulder and they went inside. When they entered the hall, Willet lit on the bench near Alvern and Aram returned to his seat, placing the bags containing the gold on the floor near him. A steaming cup of kolfa sat on the table in front of him. With a grateful nod to Findaen, he took the cup and drank deeply.
Within minutes, Jared, Nikolus, and Timmon arrived and took their places at the table, the two men sitting on his left, beyond the birds, and Jared lining up beside Thaniel.
Aram sipped at his kolfa and looked around at them all, six men, three horses, two wolves, an eagle, a hawk, and Ka’en. He stood.
“My friends, none of us here want to go to war. We all want the same thing – to live in peace and freedom and to find–” He glanced at Ka’en “– happiness. The Maker meant for the world to be thus, in fact, the three powers were appointed to see that it was so, to provide the world with guidance and counsel. But the ways of the Maker have been brought to naught. I have met two of the three gods –”
Astonishment rippled around the table at this stunning statement, leaving only Thaniel unaffected.
“– and I can tell you that neither will help us further. Lord Florm, Thaniel and I stood not long ago in the halls of Ferros; afterward I climbed the mountain of Kelven to seek his aid and guidance. Lord Kelven did indeed help – he has already aided us to the length of his ability, in a way that I will demonstrate to you shortly. Ferros, however, cares for nothing that is done on the surface of the world, and we may expect nothing from him.
“Manon, as all should know by now, has abandoned the ways of the Maker and has turned to evil. Know this – if he has his way, all life upon earth will be nothing more than fodder for his wicked intentions.” He met the eyes of everyone at the table, holding each for a long moment. “It falls to us to stop him. I mean to do it.”
He paused for a moment and looked down at the table. “I am not looking for expressions of fealty, only advice.” He looked up. “I trust everyone at this table. I will tell you what I believe must happen and then I will listen to your thoughts on the matter. First, however, you must witness something.”
Glancing about the hall, he spied a ray of the morning sunlight falling upon a table further down the aisle toward the dais at the front. He moved toward it, drawing the sword of heaven as he went.
“You may need to cover your ears.” He said.
Sixteen
The blade started singing as Aram walked toward the sunlight, the high-pitched sound growing more intense by the second; he’d neglected to wear the hood and his ears began to ring and his head to ache. He held the blade beneath the shaft of light and after a moment flames began to swirl back and forth along its length. Deliberately, he angled the sword in his grip so that it hung suspended with the point of its blade pointing downward toward the surface of the table.
He let it drop.
The blade slid through the six-inch stone slab like a hot knife through butter, pausing only for a moment when the wings of the hilt struck the surface. Then the hilt began to slide through as well as the table melted. Quickly, Aram reached out with his gauntleted hand and grabbed the sword before it could fall through and impact the floor of the hall.
The song of the sword and the flames ceased as he slid it back into its sheath, but the table continued to melt, spreading like thick gray mud upon the floor. Aram returned to the table by the others and smiled at the astonishment of his friends. They had risen and were staring at the fluid, smoking ruin into which the table had been rendered by contact with the sword. The stone was cooling now, hardening into its new shape.
Findaen looked at him, his blue eyes wide. “What in heaven’s name is that thing?”
“The sword of heaven. The weapon in Kelven’s Riddle. Our best hope for defeating Manon – if I can get close enough to him to use it.”
Jared and Huram backed up a pace as Aram approached. Jared glanced at Thaniel but the big horse stood unflinching. Jared looked back at Aram.
“Where did you acquire such a weapon, Lord Aram?”
Aram gave him a slight smile. “From the heavens, my friend. That is why it is called the sword of heaven. It a mighty gift, attained with the help of Lord Kelven himself. It will change our fortunes.”
“You found it on the mountain?”
Aram hesitated. “I found it by going to the mountain, Jared.”
He saw a frown cross Ka’en’s face at this statement but ignored it.
He motioned for them all to return to their seats and then he sat again at the head of the table.
“I stated a moment ago that I had met two of the three gods. Now, I must meet the other. It is my fate to stand before the enemy of the world. Somehow, I and this sword must face Manon. That is the singular event that is at the end of this road that I now walk. You, my friends – if you will – must help me find the end of that road.” He paused and looked around, meeting every gaze. “If I could bypass war, sparing everyone else, and go straight to him, I would; and then I would end it.
“But Manon has many armies between himself and me. They will not let me pass easily. I have seen those armies and they are vast, and welltrained. The road to Manon is choked with their numbers. I must clear that road, and I cannot do it alone. Will you help me?”
Ka’en rose suddenly, and she was shak
ing as she looked down at him. “Aram – what do you mean – the end of the road?”
He stood as well and gazed back at her without comprehension. She had gone completely pale and her lovely eyes were wide. Her face was set in an expression of mounting fear. Then he understood, and he quickly grasped her hands in his. He leaned forward and looked into her eyes.
“For him, my love, for him. It will be the end of the road for him.” He shook his head slowly. “This sword was made to accomplish his destruction, not mine – or any other’s. The road of my life passes beyond that event and returns here, to you. I will always return to you, Ka’en.”
He hated exposing his deepest emotions to those assembled, but the fear in her eyes drove him to dispel it. He tightened his grip on her small hands. “Nothing will keep me from you. I will return, my love. Always.”
Mallet stood suddenly, and his eyes glistened beneath his bushy brows. “We will make sure of it, my lady,” he said, and his voice quivered with emotion. He turned to look at Aram. “My lord, if a road needs clearing, then I’m your man. Not much will stand between me and something that needs doing.”
Jonwood stood as well, followed by Wamlak. Wamlak spoke. “Mallet will be flanked by us, my lord.” Jonwood nodded silently.
At the end of the table, Jared shifted his weight impatiently. “No one is going to war without me.” He said, and beside him, Nikolus rose to his feet.
“And Jared’s not going without me.”
Next to Nikolus, Timmon stood, wiping his eyes, but grinning. “You’ll need someone to help sort out the small things, my lord.”
“I will go wherever you send me, Lord Aram.” Huram said matter-offactly.
“And I will watch the skies above you.” Alvern stated.
Willet hopped up onto the table. “I am at your service ever, my lord.”
Leorg looked at Gorfang and then stood. “You are our master. You command, and we act. It will ever be so.”
Findaen got to his feet and went around to stand by his sister. He kissed her on the temple and looked at Aram. “With me, that’s everyone. As for myself; I would willingly die, if necessary, to see your will accomplished.”
Aram slowly shook his head, pulled his gaze away from Ka’en and looked at him. “I don’t want any one of you to die, Findaen.”
Findaen smiled slowly, and fierce realization shone in his eyes. “There is not a one of us here, Lord Aram, that does not understand the import of all that you have said. We know that the way before us is dark and deadly if we are to bring you to the grim lord’s tower.” His smile faded, but the fierceness in his eyes remained. “It is not likely that we will all survive such a desperate journey. Surely, you – more than anyone else in the world – must know this. Some of us – maybe all of us – will die. But we will go with you, nonetheless.”
Aram started to speak, but Findaen held up a hand and looked around at the assembly before returning his gaze to Aram. “We all of us, my lord, willingly pledge our loyalty and our lives to the task ahead. You need but to command us and – like the wolf said – we will do.” He gently returned his sister to her seat and motioned for everyone else to sit as well. Then he went back to Aram’s other side and sat down, looking up at him.
“Now,” he said, “what will you have us do?”
Aram was deeply moved by the expressions of fealty, and by the depth of Ka’en’s concern for him. But he had already exhibited his personal feelings more than he wished in a public setting. He sat down and folded his hands on the table and deliberately turned the conversation to logistical matters. He looked over at Findaen.
“We need armor.” He said. “For both men and horses. We’ll need metal and we’ll need craftsmen to work the metal. Any ideas?”
Findaen nodded. “Arthrus Kornell.” He said simply.
Aram raised his eyebrows in question.
Findaen went on. “There’s a man in Derosa named Arthrus Kornell. He builds and repairs plows and things for the farmers. He comes from a long line of metalworkers. Years ago, in Stell, his grandfather ran a shop. When our people were pushed from the plains by Manon, the old man brought his expertise to Derosa and taught his son and later his grandson, Arthrus. Arthrus knows how to work metal and he’ll know how to acquire it as well.”
The young man frowned suddenly. “But it will not be cheap, my lord. These days things like metal must be acquired on the sly, away from the eyes of authority – especially Manon’s authority, his overseers and lashers. The men who acquire such things are dangerous, and they do not work for free.” His frown deepened. “My father has some money that is recognized outside the borders of Wallensia, but not much. Certainly not enough to purchase the amounts that we will need.”
Aram watched him a moment as the copper-haired young man cast about in his mind for a solution; then he reached down and lifted one of the bags up from the floor. Loosening the top, he spilled its contents upon the table. Golden discs, some showing the side with the four-pointed star inside the circle, some showing the side with the profile of the ancient king, gleamed as they slid across one another and came to rest.
Findaen sucked in a sharp breath and gaped at the stunning pile of gold, as did all the men. The horses, wolves, and birds showed mild interest but nothing further. Findaen’s hand shook as he reached out and picked up one of the pieces of money.
“Monarchs!” He stammered. “Golden monarchs. I have never seen this many.” He looked at Aram in amazement. “In fact, I have seen only two in the whole course of my life. My father has one – it is part of Ka’en’s dowry. Kemul’s family held the other. How – where –?”
Aram indicated the pile of coins. “Are these very valuable, then? Is this a sizeable amount?”
Mallet roared with astonished laughter, as did Wamlak and the other men. Even the stolid Jonwood smiled. Findaen looked at him with wide, stunned eyes. “My lord, you are easily the richest man in the world.” He held up the coin so that it caught the light. “Just one of these is worth the value of many men’s holdings. Some of the wealthiest people in Derosa would trade all that they have to possess one monarch.”
Aram ignored the looks of astonishment and stubbornly repeated his question. “Then this will buy the metal that we need?”
“Oh, yes, my lord.”
“But we will need thousands of suits of armor, eventually. And you said that the men who acquire such things as metal do not work cheaply. Plus, we must pay the craftsmen for their labor.”
Findaen frowned and replaced the coin, trying to judge the size of the pile. Finally, he nodded. “My lord, I believe that you could purchase all the metal in the world with this many monarchs.”
“There is more, if necessary.”
Findaen’s eyes widened again. “More?”
Aram reached down, retrieved the second bag and spilled its contents by the first. Every man gasped. Ka’en’s eyes went wide.
“And there is even more yet, if required.” Aram stated quietly. “I intend to build a large army, Findaen.”
The young man struggled to speak. “My lord, you astound me. How –?”
“My ancestors were kings, Findaen.” Aram answered mildly. He tapped the portrait on one of the coins. “This man was one of them – I’m not sure which. They were wealthy long before the coming of the evil of Manon. Now, they have released this treasure to me when our need is great. I ask you again – will it suffice?”
“Yes, my lord.” Findaen nodded. “It will more than suffice.”
For a moment, Aram considered the wisdom of describing the true extent of his wealth to those assembled, but the effect of the gold on these men, all of whom he trusted to one degree or another, made him uneasy. He decided that only those that should know need know – and for now that was none of them. He could not afford to have any of his allies derailed by greed. As unfamiliar as he was with the ways of the world beyond his valley, he would have to learn to act as if he were the wisest of all men in those ways.
&nb
sp; “Alright.” He nodded. “Then we will enlist the aid of this Arthrus when we go to Derosa. Now let’s turn to other matters.”
He decided to let the gold rest on the table, even though the men had trouble looking at anything else. Hopefully, the longer it remained casually in view, and the less of a fuss he himself made of it, the more it would seem like just a tool to be put to use than a fortune to be possessed, rendering it mundane. He looked along the table at Thaniel.
“How long will the horses stay with us this summer, Thaniel?”
Thaniel shifted his great weight, changing the position of his massive hooves on the stone floor. “Lord Florm has placed that judgment entirely into your hands, my lord. He knows that we are now at war. They will stay as long as you wish – even through the winter if necessary.”
Aram saw the men of Derosa start and turn to gaze at the horse wide-eyed as his voice broke in upon their minds. Findaen, who had been instructed by the great horse earlier that day in the removal of his armor, and Nikolus and Timmon were used to it by now and showed no surprise but Jonwood, Mallet, and Wamlak were stunned to hear the voice of the horse inside their heads. Aram nodded at Thaniel’s answer.
“Good. Findaen, we will need to provide an opportunity for the men of your town and the horses to pair up, so that we may know how many will ride, and how many, like Mallet, will not.”
Findaen pulled his gaze away from Thaniel and looked at Aram, nodding. “Certainly, my lord. Of course.”
Aram glanced down the table. “Timmon – you are very adept at sorting things out, as you said earlier.”
Timmon grinned. “I like to think so, my lord.”
“We need to find a way that the horses can transport a thousand swords, a thousand spear points, and ten thousand or so arrow points to Derosa. Do you have any ideas on this matter?”
The man with the thinning hair frowned down at the table for a moment, tapping his fingers on the hard surface. After a moment, he looked up. “If we could get our hands on some wood-working tools, then we could construct crates that we could then attach to the horses, my lord.”
Kelven's Riddle Book Two Page 25
