“Forgiveness for sins is not mine to give, but friendship and trust I have a plenty,” said Nostr. “I ask you one favor, prince of the Keltar.”
“Name it,” stated Granu.
“If you decide to take up the ax and fight for your people, you must remember the most important part of such an action,” said Nostr.
“Which is?” asked Granu.
“Knowing when to put it back down,” replied Nostr. “Too often men have turned to the blade in the name of justice, only to evolve into the unjust. Power breeds arrogance and arrogance leads to corruption. The Deceiver would have us convince ourselves that all we do is in the name of right. Often, the cloak of justice surrounds the servant of evil.
“When you leave this place, leave with the knowledge that one day, if Avra be served, the ax will be returned, and peace, not war will be the true gift of Gretcha beautiful heart.”
Granu set his jaw and turned to the dais upon which the remains of his forefather lay. He strode forward and put his hand on the handle of the ax.
“I swear on the name of Awoi that when my people are safe I will lay down the ax, and only then will the creations of Avra truly begin to live the way he intended.”
The giant slid the handle from between the arms of Awoi’s bones and held it aloft. Nostr smiled and bowed his head, muttering a quick prayer. A dumbfounded Cefiz stared at the scene in front of him. Never in all his years did he expect to be standing in the tomb of Awoi with mortal enemies, listening to a proclamation of peace. He eyed the Ulrog.
“Master Nostr...?” interrupted Cefiz hesitantly.
Nostr allowed a slight smile, then continued.
“I felt a great power surge within me. The Ulrog on the mountainside went silent and I stepped from my pit. Sulgor snarled and spat on the ground.
“ ‘It is corrupted by the tainted soil,’ growled Sulgor. ‘The blood of the weak one flows through its body. Destroy it.’
“The Ulrog priests closest to me drew their cleavers and set to cut me down. They raised their blades and slashed down upon me. Instantly, a brilliant rainbow of light surrounded me. The priest’s cleavers rebounded from the aura and sprang from their hands. Sulgor fumed.
“ ‘If the blood of Awoi can flow from its wounds, it can die.’ snapped the Malveel.
“Sulgor’s eyes glowed crimson. A crown of flame encased his head and molten gauntlets appeared upon his claws. The Malveel king charged me.
“ ‘Be not afraid,’ said the voice in my head. ‘I am the Deliverer.’
“I stood steadfast, confident in the Word. Sulgor met the colorful aura about me and was thrown into the pit from whence I was created. The voice spoke through me, ringing clear in the gorge.
“ ‘All the creations of my creations are my children. Do not attempt to stand in my stead. Arrogance will be your undoing.’
“ Sulgor rallied from the pit and attacked once more. Again he was thrown back. The Ulrog on the mountainside shrank from the rainbow of brilliant light. The priests chanted but the Malveel’s power waned.
“ ‘None will hurt this one,’ boomed the voice. ‘It will be a seer and show the way to others.’
“The Ulrog fled from the mountainside as Sulgor stole from my birthing pit and crept from the firelight. I buried the Zodrian sacrifices in the pits beside the Ulrog priests who would never be raised. The sun rose in a shimmer of yellow and pink as clouds drifted in from west to east. By midmorning the rain started and continued all day. I sat in the rain staring at the muddied field around me, watching all signs of the previous evenings events wash away.
“My creation, my life, it began there. I was called upon by a being I knew not, but I knew the choice was mine. I waited and thought. In the morning I stood and began to hike the Scythtar. I studied the world around me. I reveled in the creations of Avra. This was my life for ten seasons.
“I traveled the Scythtar with no purpose in mind but to experience the world. When I encountered an Ulrog pack, they either fled or ignored me. I was given free rein to travel where I will, but never did I truly interact with another.
“Then one day, the voice returned. It told me to travel southeast. I obeyed. I wanted to obey.
“I climbed down from the place known as Tar Tamor and looked across a beautiful plain, filled with flowing fields of grass. A figure emerged from the grasses. He held a gray robe in his hands. He approached me and held out the robe. I put it on without a word and followed him south.
“When I arrived at the sacred Lake of Delvi, I was taken to a small chamber that was prepared for me. I knew the place. I had seen it in my dreams. In fact, I beheld much of my life in the Tower before I ever laid eyes upon the Tower itself.
“The Prelate Tican called for me. I knew his face before I entered his chambers. He was old, wise and kind. He said he waited a long time for me and greeted me warmly. He told me I was chosen. I was given a gift and he hoped I would use it for good. Then he asked me if I wished to be trained. Did I wish to be taught how to interpret the things I had seen and those I would see?
“I nodded yes and on that day my instruction commenced. With each passing day the dreams and visions came more frequently. Often I discussed them with Prelate Tican and other times I simply entered them in the book of Scribes, as was custom.
“Time passed and Tican weakened. One evening I was summoned to his chambers. The Prelate was dying. He passed the Quill on to me. I was chosen Prelate. It has been my responsibility these many years.”
The Ulrog scribe stopped and surveyed the tomb of Awoi. Both Granu and Cefiz looked exhausted.
“It is time for you to rest now,” stated Nostr. “The tomb shall protect you from the elements. The Ulrog have discarded ample torches around the stone door. Collect them and they will provide a source of heat. I will venture back over the barricade and ensure the Malveel abides by his word. Neither the demon nor his Hackles will enter this tomb tonight. Rest well.”
The scribe turned and strode from Awoi’s tomb. Granu and Cefiz faced one another for a moment in silence, then complied with Nostr’s commands and slept.
CHAPTER 7: THE FLOATING PALACE
The Horsemen provided mounts for Eidyn and Kael. The group rode east. Tarader led the proceeding and Hai rode close beside Ader. The Eru horses arrayed around the Seraph and his giant gray refused to pass the weary stallion. Tarader’s proud bearing returned and although the horse was exhausted, a certain dance that Kael had not seen in the last few days returned to his step.
Within the hour the party crested a small hill and viewed a large encampment of tents spread out across the grassy plains to the east. Yurts made of animal skins, leather ties and stiff poles dotted the plains for nearly a league. Sentries on horseback exchanged passwords with Hai and the group moved deeper and deeper into the encampment. Often the sentries displayed surprise at the sight of Tarader and the Seraph. They quickly bowed their heads then stared in awe at the beautiful gray stallion.
“The hall of Temujen,” said Hai suddenly.
Kael looked up from his perusal of the yurts and people to see a massive round tent laid out before him. The horses halted and the group dismounted. Guards stood at attention beneath a wide overhang that sheltered the entry point to the tent. A warm glow seeped from within the structure’s confines and music could be heard. A guard quickly disappeared into the tent as Hai handed the reins of his horse to an attendant. Eidyn and Kael followed suit. Ader dropped from the back of the gray and Tarader immediately strolled from sight as attendants and soldiers alike bowed before the horse.
“Please gentlemen,” stated Hai, “my father awaits.”
The Eru horseman led the procession into the tents of his father. Kael followed and halted in the shadows just inside the tent’s opening. The tent’s contents surprised the Southland boy. Lavish rugs covered every inch of the dirt and grass floor. Intricate tapestries covered the walls and small yet beautifully appointed furniture filled the space. At least two dozen elder Eru dignitar
ies sat or reclined throughout the enormous tent and a group of five children sat on a plush couch playing various instruments. Hai noted the wonder in Kael’s eyes.
“Some from your region of the world believe a palace must be of stone and mortar to convey the power and majesty of its owner,” grinned the rider. “They think us simple because we choose not to be rooted to one place. One can find power and majesty anywhere on Avra’s world, but he must first be willing to step from his self made cavern and seek it.”
Kael’s eyes followed the path of the guard that slipped into the tent before his group. The guard slid between several couches and halted next to an older man covered in black robes similar to those worn by Hai. The bronze faced man beamed at the children as they played an up tempo reel on their instruments and waved the guard close. After a brief exchange, the Eru elder stood and his eyes searched the shadows of the tents opening. His smile broadened and he lightly bowed to Ader. The Seraph returned the bow as the Eru chieftain waved him over.
Ader wove his way through the reclining Eru and immediately men and women sprang to their feet as they recognized the Seraph. The children’s music faded during the commotion. Quickly Ader motioned the Eru to remain seated then turned to the children.
“Please, please,” begged a smiling Ader, “continue your lively reel. It’s the only thing that has put a bounce in my step in months.”
The children smiled and resumed their song. Ader and Hai led Kael and Eidyn through the throng. The Eru elders settled back into their seats with one eye on the children and the other on the guests. Several couches were cleared near the bronze faced man and Ader stepped forward into his open embrace.
“The Giftgiver showers my tent in honor with his visit,” announced the man. “The hour is late and the locale somewhat north for such a visit. Therefore, my head tells me our commune comes from necessity not fraternity, but anytime the Giftgiver appears amongst the Eru is a time for celebration.”
“I wish my visit to the tents of Temujen were for simple community,” replied Ader. “For your hospitality has always been the finest in all the lands. But alas, events forced me in your direction.”
Temujen turned to his son and smiled.
“You are well, my son?” asked the Eru chieftain.
Hai bowed deeply.
“Yes, Father,” returned Hai.
“Your riders?”
“All in excellent health,” answered Hai. “A few minor wounds and scrapes, but nothing dire.”
“Wounds?” questioned Temujen eyeing Ader.
“We encountered Ulrog packs in the ravines,” stated Hai.
“The ravines?” exclaimed Temujen. “That is far south for the Ulrog.”
Several Eru elders sitting near the group heard the exchange and Kael noticed concerned glances pass between them. Temujen furrowed his brow and frowned.
“Certainly disconcerting news,” stated the chieftain. “Twas fortunate that you came across them at night and within that confining battleground or you might be chasing down the pack over the course of a week.”
Temujen pondered the news a moment longer.
“Such a foolish path for the Ulrog to choose in Eru lands,” commented the chieftain.
“It was not their choice, Father,” responded Hai glancing at Ader. “It was rather, where they were led.”
Kael and Eidyn turned to the Seraph as well. Ader remained stone faced. Temujen smiled.
“A bit of a gamble, I should say,” said Temujen to Ader. “The hunted enters the snare to ensnare the hunter? You could not be sure the Eru riders were near.”
“The Eru are renown for vigilance of their northern borders,” replied Ader. “I simply used that knowledge to my advantage.”
“It is fortunate we camped to the west,” said Temujen.
“Quite fortunate,” whispered the Seraph.
“Pardon my rudeness,” said the chieftain to Kael and Eidyn. “I ignore the other guests to my tent. I am Temujen of the Erutre. We do not receive many of the People of the Woods in our tents. It is a rare honor to host a pair of representatives from the Almar Palace.”
Kael returned the bow as a raven haired, wiry woman seated on a small divan behind Temujen rose and approached the group. She stared intently at the boy. Before Kael found a moment to introduce himself, the woman interrupted the proceedings.
“Forgive me, husband,” said the woman, “but we are blessed by the presence of two kingdom’s thrones if I am not mistaken. One of the White City and the other that of the Amethyst throne.”
One eye appraised Kael from head to toe as the other quickly glanced to Ader. Temujen followed his wife’s look and his eyes questioned Ader as well. The Seraph wearily smiled and nodded to the woman, who immediately stepped forward and passionately embraced Kael. She quickly placed a kiss on each of the boy’s cheeks in the Erutre custom, then stepped back to appraise him once more. Kael reddened deeply and felt his blood rush through his body as all eyes within the tent locked on him. The woman finished her inspection with a smile and a quick nod of approval.
“He looks well maintained and healthy,” said the woman turning to Ader. “I approve.”
“Thank you, Fondith,” said Ader. “He has been well cared for since I removed him from your charge.”
“Forcibly removed from my charge,” scowled the woman at both Ader and her husband.
Temujen sighed and dropped his head as if the complaint was one he heard many times. Ader pursed his lips and lightly bowed his head. He too had obviously been on the opposite end of this grievance before.
Kael’s brow rose in confusion. Were they talking about him? What was going on? Ader read the confusion in the boy’s eyes?
“I fled Astel with a newborn in my charge,” stated Ader. “I possessed no means to care for you and other issues pressed hard upon me. Fondith gave birth to Hai about the same time. She accepted you and nursed you beside her own son.”
“Nursed?” mumbled Kael, reddening further.
“You were but a babe, Kael,” scoffed Ader. “You needed to eat.”
“My boys,” smiled Fondith wrapping an arm about both Kael and Hai, “together again as it should have been.”
Ader sighed and Temujen looked awkwardly to the floor of the tent. Kael stood speechless, stunned and embarrassed all at once. The musical reel played by the children continued, but all eyes remained fixed on the flushed young man. Fondith frowned and quickly intervened. The commanding woman swept both Kael and Hai through the maze of furniture to the tent’s exit.
“My two babies,” she laughed. “We shall retire to my private tents and I will hear stories of your first adventure together.”
Hai appeared as stunned as Kael and displayed a weak smile as he agreed to his mother’s wishes. Kael’s neck craned backward as he tried to find some direction from Ader, but the Seraph simply smiled and waved him away as the tent flap dropped.
Kael spent the better part of an hour sitting in a plushly furnished small tent describing his life at “The King’s Service” to the rapt attention of both Fondith and her son Hai. The woman showed particular interest in the tales of his mother, Yanwin. At each mention of her name, Fondith’s eyes bore in on the boy and Kael felt her trying to read deeper into his thoughts and emotions.
Servants came and went carrying refreshments ordered respectfully by the Chieftess of the Erutre. Kael related his early relationship with both Ader and Manfir. At the mention of the prince’s name, Hai smiled and his mother gave the boy a knowing wink. The pair prompted Kael forward and he told of his journey to Luxlor.
The boy halted and stammered over his words as the memory of Aemmon swept over him. Shame filled him again as he realized he had not thought of his brother in days. Fondith sensed his despair and moved beside him. A tiny arm wrapped about the boy’s shoulder and drew him close. The intense, commanding presence of the Eru Chieftess transformed into one of deep tenderness.
“He was lost?” she whispered to the boy.
/> “Yes,” replied Kael almost inaudibly.
“Then he is with Avra,” she softly replied. “ A place has been created for us all.”
The conviction in her eyes and the power of her belief quieted Kael’s heart. He found reassurance and strength from this tiny, determined woman. Fondith held him close and hummed a light tune that Kael found strangely calming. He closed his eyes and let his mind and body relax for the first time since his departure from Zodra. It was as if being in the arms of this woman, slowly rocking back and forth was the safest place in the world to Kael.
After a long moment, Kael opened his eyes and looked into those of Hai. A peaceful gaze returned the stare and a placid smile lay across the lips of the Eru lad.
“It is the lullaby she sang to me as a child,” smiled Hai. “It always calms my heart.”
“It is the lullaby I sang to the pair of you,” corrected Fondith. “The only one that calmed you both.”
She gave Kael a light kiss on the cheek and the boy turned to face her.
“How long ....,” hesitated Kael. “Was I with you long?”
“About ten months,” replied Fondith. “The Giftgiver returned to your homeland and tried to rally the Astelans against the forces of Amird. However, the torrent of Ulrog flooding from the valley of Mnim grew too great. Izgra and the Fangs of the Devil took up residence in the great castle and Astel was lost.”
“The Giftgiver?” questioned Kael turning to Hai. “You call Ader by that name as well. Why?”
Mother and son smiled at one another.
“Lord Ader presented the line of Finepion to man, in particular to Eru,” returned Hai. “Avra blessed us with a great gift and a great responsibility through his Guide, Ader.”
Kael shook his head trying to make sense of what he just heard.
“Do you mean to say the ancestors of Tarader ....er, Finepion were given to your ancestors by Ader thousands of years ago?” asked Kael.
“Uh, yes and no,” said Hai frowning and looking to his mother.
Fondith frowned as well.
The Trees And The Night (Book 3) Page 8
