Sword and Illusion

by Nancy S. Brandt

Then she opened her trunk of clothing and began to dress.

  ****

  Varian stopped before he got to the edge of the Glacier Shrine. He looked up at a column of marble that shone so brightly even in the darkness that he wondered if there were flames inside of it.

  Moonrazer and Lucan stood about four strides from him, but they were not important now. The door to the Shine was in front of him, and the facets of the carved ice shone in colors so vivid they looked like gems.

  The music and the voices he could now make out absorbed his attention.

  One by one, the people staring at the misty glacier began walking toward it, each one seemingly following some individual calling. Varian felt an intensity growing within him as he yearned for his own call.

  Suddenly, he felt a pulling sensation in the center of his chest, and he took a step toward the edge of the glacier. He wanted to run toward the sounds but the surface was slippery. Still, something held him upright as he continued walking, climbing without looking at his feet.

  He entered the mist and could no longer see any of the others. However, he did not feel alone.

  In fact, he felt surrounded by a love he'd never known before, unconditionally accepting and more trustworthy than even the love of his sisters. He nearly wept with the glory of it.

  After a few more steps, the pulling ended, and he stopped.

  The mist swirled around him, and his mind was filled with the most beautiful song he could imagine. Somehow he knew it was his alone, and he would never forget it.

  "Hush, little one."

  The voice was soft, almost unheard through the music. However, he did hear and turned toward it.

  "Hush, go to sleep."

  Varian followed the sound, and found himself in a forest clearing. Violetta was there, kneeling by a rock in a stream, holding a baby to her shoulder. She was singing a lullaby.

  He looked at the image of his late wife and thought about what she had done to his daughter, the hope for his world.

  "How could you have done this?" he whispered. "You killed our child."

  Violetta looked around, as if hearing something. Then she looked at the baby.

  The gentle lullaby began again, and he watched Violetta wipe a tear from her eye.

  He gasped as if in pain as she took the baby from her shoulder and laid it on the rock. He tried to move forward, but the images threatened to fade, and he stopped, helpless before the terrible vision.

  Violetta looked down at the baby and gently touched the child's face. Tears flowed down her cheeks as she looked toward the heavens.

  Her lips moved but Varian heard no words. Yet as she spoke, the music in his heart turned mournful. He felt her fear and anguish.

  She fell to her knees, picked up the baby, and held it close to her breast, rocking back and forth. Her rhythmic sobbing blended with the music, and he pleaded with her not to abandon their little girl.

  Despite his efforts, she laid the little one down again and walked away.

  Falling to his knees, he gazed at his daughter. Her small pink face looked out from the cloths in which she was wrapped. The crescent-shaped pin of red stones he had given Violetta when he proposed was used to hold the swaddling around the small body.

  He reached for her but his hand passed through the image. From that instant, the vision began to dissipate.

  The only thing he could see now was Violetta. She bent and picked a Borromean thistle.

  She looked around and closed her eyes, clutching the flower against her chest.

  In his heart, Varian knew she'd prayed to the Holy One about the baby she feared to care for, and he knew the thistle symbolized her hope for the baby's rescue.

  He had left her as she was dying, and tears of shame burned his eyes.

  "I'm sorry, my wife. I know you can't hear me, but I forgive you. I realize my deception about the world of Tellan drove you to this."

  A soft voice spoke. "Thank you, Varian."

  Suddenly before him, Violetta stood looking as she had on her death bed. Her eyes radiated tranquility.

  "I can die peacefully now." She faded.

  The music ended, leaving him feeling empty and lost, but only for an instant.

  He saw the others who had come to the glacier starting their journeys home.

  Standing up, he took a deep breath. His heart was lighter than it had been in months.

  The sky was brighter now that the sun had begun its ascent. Three moons hovered in close proximity, pink, orange, and violet hues coloring their faces.

  "Violetta, you have my forgiveness and my love. Rest now with the Holy One. Find joy in Paradise."

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Lucan hesitated as Moonrazer jumped off Wind Rider. She took several strides toward the shrine before she realized he wasn't with her.

  "You have to come. They are waiting for you."

  She wouldn't understand his reluctance. He climbed off the horse.

  They walked to their place in a ragged line of Sarl warriors, men, and children, who stared at the foggy air hiding the glacier.

  "You must follow them." Moonrazer's eyes were on the mist, and a moment later, she walked into it.

  Warmth filled Lucan's chest as though he'd drunk a mug of mulled cider. He looked at the mists and felt compelled to go and find the comfort and love he'd looked for his whole life. Music that promised rest and acceptance filled his head.

  Even though the ice was slick, he had no trouble keeping his footing as he walked toward the sound of a song sung only for him. If he followed it, he'd find answers about the path he was on.

  After walking some way into the fog, he stopped, knowing this was where he was supposed to be.

  The music continued.

  "Lucan," a gruff voice called out.

  Looking around, he saw that he was on Smokey Traveler in the plains outside of High Ground, the village where his clan had settled.

  This was a place he’d always loved. The land around the village was thick with green grass.

  He was herding the horses as he had done many times in the past, leading them toward the safety of the corrals within the city walls.

  What day was it?

  Suddenly, the horses spooked.

  Lucan reacted instinctively and rode around the panicked animals before they could stampede. Once the horses were relatively calm, he saw a dire cat approach, crouched, ready to pounce.

  Eying the cat, Lucan felt his heart sink. He knew this day. Why was he here?

  He kicked Smokey Traveler sharply and turned about, taking the long sword from the sheath on his back, and rode toward the cat.

  Its body was as large as any horse, but its legs were shorter, more muscular, and a ridge of long hair ran along the length of its back. Great fangs, nearly two handspans long, protruded from its gaping mouth.

  Lucan leaned out of his saddle and sped toward the cat, his sword arm outstretched. The cat charged toward him.

  Everything depended now on coordination between man and horse. Lucan felt the adrenaline rush as he and Smokey maneuvered together.

  He held his breath till they were within striking range. Smokey veered at the last instant, and Lucan swung his sword. A long wound opened along the side of the cat. It howled and collapsed to the ground.

  The blood pouring out of the wound created a large red patch in the grass that would draw other dire cats. Lucan had to get the horses inside the village walls as soon as possible.

  Lucan's brother, Orios, arrived. His herd was already inside the walls.

  "There's a dead dire cat back there," Lucan said. "I need to get the horses in before others arrive."

  "Right," Orios said. He immediately rode his horse to the other side of the herd, and together they got the animals to the village in time.

  "We need to go back," Lucan said. "I don't know how many cats will come but they can't be this close to the village."

  "Let's just close the gate," Orios said. "We've got the herds safe. We don't need t
o be putting ourselves in danger."

  The vision was playing out exactly as it had in reality.

  Lucan knew how this day would end and wondered if he could change it.

  "Maybe you're right," he said, jumping off Smokey Traveler. "Odds are the cats won't come closer to the village wall." He started toward the stable, but Orios stopped him.

  "No."

  Lucan turned back. Orios stared at him.

  "That is not what happened." A soft voice spoke from behind him and Lucan looked around.

  No one was there.

  "The past is written," the voice said. "It cannot be changed."

  "This was not a good day. I don't want to remember it."

  "It is part of you. You cannot deny it. You must face the truth, and see the lessons to be learned."

  "Are you going back out there?" Orios asked.

  Lucan looked at him, sighing. "It is the right thing to do."

  "I will go with you."

  The two men rode out. When they returned to the site of the kill, three dire cats were feasting on the dead one.

  Lucan knew the older, bigger one, sitting to the side, was the matriarch of the pack.

  The two men stopped their horses far enough away that they wouldn't disturb the animals.

  "I didn't realize there was a matriarch in this area," Lucan said. "We should kill her to protect the horses."

  Orios shook his head. "Surely she has had kittens already. Killing these three will do little to keep us safe. We should tell Father to keep the horses inside the walls."

  Lucan stared at him. He had respected Orios as a strong fighter. Their father had told Lucan many stories about Orios's victories over dangerous beasts, bandits, and horse thieves.

  Now he was suggesting they run from a fight?

  Lucan pulled out his sword. "Let us fight the cats together. They will be no match for the Filolden brothers."

  Orios started to leave, but the cats caught their scent. The matriarch roared.

  The two toms faced the men and crouched.

  One of them reached Orios, and Lucan swung his sword. He scored a clean kill, severing the beast's neck.

  The second tom charged, and Orios swung his own sword. He missed, and the cat circled behind Lucan.

  The beast knocked him off his horse. With Lucan on his back on the ground, the cat jumped at him.

  The only way to wrestle the cats was to reach past the claws, and grab the animal's mane with one hand and its lower jaw with the other. If the maneuver were done correctly, a man could break a cat's neck.

  Lucan had practiced with de-fanged pets during training. However, he had never tried to break an animal's neck or deal with real claws.

  He slid his right hand along the fur and grabbed the cat's jaw with his left.

  His heart began to pound. This wasn't the way it had felt in training. Slippery blood coated the underside of the jaw. He nearly lost his grip.

  Twisting the creature's neck, however, was more difficult than he anticipated.

  This would end badly, but fear and adrenaline shot through him with the same force it had then.

  He felt the bone break under his hands.

  When the animal's body went limp, he pushed it aside and got back to his feet.

  Orios stood over the dead matriarch. "I got her."

  "I needed help with this male," Lucan said. "You could have killed him easily."

  "That would have left me vulnerable to the matriarch," Orios said. "Besides, the female is the bigger problem. She would have made more kittens."

  "We would have handled her after the males were killed. She would never have left the carcass unless she was threatened. I could have been killed." Lucan kicked the dead cat.

  Orios shrugged. "Only because you are weak."

  Lucan blinked. What was his brother talking about? He'd killed the two males, one with his bare hands. How did that make him weak?

  The vision shifted forward in time, and the two brothers were now riding home, bloodied from their encounter.

  Lucan silently seethed over his brother's unwillingness to kill the second male.

  As they approached the family home, Lucan's father, Kyrildor, strode out to meet them.

  Kyrildor was a stout, wide man, built like a furnace, and he was dressed in robes of hemp died with royal ochre, indicating his position as Herd Holder. The hem of the garment was embroidered with gold thread, as befit a king of the plains.

  He carried the coveted Red Sword, a curved blade of blood-colored metal borne by champions who defeated the dire cats.

  Orios charged ahead and leaped from his horse. "Father, I killed the matriarch of a clowder of dire cats."

  His father clapped his shoulders and gave him a huge smile. "That's wonderful, son. I didn't even realize we had another clowder in the area." He saw Lucan. "Did your brother do well?"

  Lucan wanted the vision to stop. He wanted nothing more than to forget this. However, events continued.

  He dismounted. Blood leaked around the bandaged scratch marks he bore on each arm.

  Orios smiled at Lucan. "He helped a bit, Father. He's getting better. I think he will be an adequate hunter one day."

  "One day?" Lucan asked. "I killed two males." He held out his bandaged arms. "One of them nearly slashed my arms to ribbons."

  Kyrildor eyed the bandages. "Orios, is that true? Did he kill two males?"

  Orios shrugged. "Well, it's a bit of an exaggeration. He killed one with a lucky strike. The other I killed while it was trying to eat him."

  Kyrildor scowled at Lucan. "What have I told you about lying, son?"

  Lucan gritted his teeth. "Orios is lying, Father. I killed the two males without any help from him. He was focused on the female, which wasn't attacking us."

  Lucan's father slapped him. "Don't speak about your brother that way."

  "But he lied." Lucan spat blood on the ground.

  Kyrildor glared. "He has no need to lie. You, however, want to make yourself more important in my eyes. I am ashamed to call you my son." Their father handed the Red Sword to Orios. "Hail, the mighty killer of dire cats."

  Lucan eyed the sword. He remembered the pain of his father's rejection that day.

  He'd never desired the Red Sword, but it had always been understood in the family that the son who received it held Kyrildor's highest favor. That, Lucan coveted more than anything.

  The sword looked wrong. It didn't quite match his memory of the weapon.

  Reaching out his hand, he stepped forward to get a better look.

  Kyrildor pushed him aside. "I'm warning you, son. You will defer to Orios now as though to me. Mind your place."

  Lucan stared at his father. Why would his father treat him so? What had he ever done to deserve this kind of condemnation?

  "I have no place here," Lucan said, leaping onto Smokey's back. "However, I will find a place I will be respected for myself and not rejected because I was unlucky enough to have been born sixth."

  The vision faded, and Lucan found himself sitting on the ground with mists swirling all around him.

  Orios had deceived his father to gain the honor of the Red Sword.

  Did his father favor Orios because he was the only son borne to his favorite wife, Lianae? Was that all it was?

  Why had the Crystal Spirits shown him this, and why had the Red Sword looked wrong?

  Suddenly, he realized that the Sword in his vision had resembled the Sword of Justice.

  Even though Lucan had never coveted the Red Sword, it represented the love he desired, but never received as the sixth son.

  Perhaps Whiteshadow, too, had been denied love and acceptance because of her birth position.

  It wasn't fair. He was sure she would have been a better Exalted Warrior. He knew what his vision meant and what he had to do.

  The mists cleared. He could see the ice and hear the music again.

  Moonrazer stood near him, smiling. "Did you lose yourself?" She was teasing him, but in trut
h, he didn't know how to respond. Certainly his fears hadn't lessened.

  After a moment, he said, "The Crystal Spirits are not easy to understand."

  "Sometimes the words of the Spirits are hard, but they are always for our good." She climbed on Wind Rider's back.