She jumped out of bed and splashed cool water from the night stand jug on her face. It had been a pleasant dream though, and so real. It would do no harm to dream of being swept off her feet and into a palace. Even by a village boy. Well, young man really. About two or three years older than her she reckoned. And, he was very nice looking after all, and always polite. Not like that horrid boy from the Jacklins who kept mooning about the stables hoping to steal a kiss. Last time he tried Desare had swung a huge open handed slap that had set his head ringing for days. She giggled again at the memory, completely forgetting the sharp vengeful look that had been in Nasser Jacklins eyes as he ran off. Come to think of it, he hadn't been back since. Desare leaned her elbows on the window sill of their small loom and watched the day dawning. It had been weeks now since the village had been attacked. Most of the warrior maidens had gone off somewhere. Adventuring she supposed. She sighed. She never had adventures. Her parents always needed help in running the inn. Her sisters were too young to do much. Mostly they played, or simply got under foot.
Desare leaned out a bit further. Something had moved in the grey dawn shadows out by the chicken run. She could hear their restless clucking. What was it? Too large for an animal. Someone stealing eggs? Impossible. All anyone had to do was ask, and they could have all they wanted. The movement had stopped, but Desare's pensive mood had broken. The pleasant dream was fading, as surely as the sun was rising. Well, one day she would wear the yellow dress, but now she may as well get ready for the days tasks. The Trader, Annan Hamar, was going to continue her lessons today. He was teaching her to read and write. He was staying right here in the inn. Another Trader had turned up some time back, along with two friends of Antonin's. Shortly after it seemed that nearly everyone had disappeared, except the two Traders. They spent long hours with their heads together in a corner of the common room discussing something of importance. When not doing that, Master Hamar was teaching Desare. He said she must learn much, as quickly as she could. Even her father and mother thought it so important she was let off doing chores much of the time. While Master Hamar was teaching, the other trader was busy refitting both wagons. It looked to Desare like a very big journey was being planned.
●Chapter 19
The lessons went well. She was now able to read some of the stories in the piles of books that the Trader had lugged up in great chests to her room. Stories about ancient times. Stories about strange people. Stories about Kings and Queens from ages past. She never had realized how many ages there had been. They went back into the dimness of time, uncountable thousands of years. Whole empires risen and fallen, and long forgotten, except in the books that The Trader, Master Hamar insisted she read. Why, there were even books that said that the very land had changed. Great upheavals of mountains and new seas being formed. Desare couldn't see how that could be, but the books said it was so.
One disturbing book told of a time so long ago that even the author could not place it when the battle with the Dark One had all but wiped all living things from the face of the world. Only vast scorched blank glass areas remaining where once large cities had stood. It had only stopped when there was no one left who knew how to continue the battle.
Desare eyed the pile of books, and piles of paper, and piles of work she had done.
"Oh well, it's more interesting than cleaning the stables." She thought. Why she was doing all this learning she couldn't even guess. There seemed no need in a small village, but Father and Mother wanted it, so it was done.
Desare knew she was of an age now to be welcomed to the Women's Circle, but so far no invitation had come. Perhaps all the turmoil of the last weeks and months had caused such a small thing to be forgotten for the moment.
Desare turned from the window to begin dressing. Just as her back turned to the window she heard a 'chink' sound from the yard. She spun around and peered out into the yard. There! It was that Jacklin's boy, she was sure. What could he be up to out there in the early dawn. Or was it? The shadow within the shadow moved, and seemed to flow with a liquid movement as it travelled away across the open space toward the north. It had no definite shape, and suddenly Desare realized that she was covered in goose bumps from head to foot. Even the hair on the nape of her neck was trying to stand up. She backed away from the window until she bumped into her bed. She wished Antonin were here now. What? Desare clicked her tongue. Silly girl. It was a dream, remember. Time to get dressed and go down to begin the day. Unnoticed, the air in one part of the room took on a crystalline shine like frosty fog on a subzero night, while unheard in The Inn of the Blind Man the box beneath the bed of Tallbar the Innkeeper was hammering on the floor fit to burst the floorboards. Antonin in far away Hua Guo suddenly clutched his head and groaned. His friends looked at him in alarm, but it passed quickly, leaving him blinking and wondering what had happened.
Desare continued to dress, unaware of all this, and finally ran lightly down the stairs to the kitchen.
The cooks were hard at work already, preparing the early morning meals. Had anyone seen anything near the hen house? No one had yet been outside, so nothing had been seen. Desare shrugged and forgot it. She didn't know it, but she was considered by many to be very beautiful. Long pale hair, uncommon in the region, fanned across her shoulders and hung almost to her slim waist. She had fair skin, like all the family. Blue eyes with the slightest almond shape and a small nose with just the hint of the curved bridge of the people from the East. Her wide mouth was quick to smile, and many a local boy delighted in the game of 'steal a kiss' on festival days. Desare herself enjoyed the fun of the games, and her slim build and long legs made her popular on the dance floor. Skirts swirling up to show trim ankles and calves, her chest rising and falling with exertion ensured every young man in the village sought her out. Desare had eyes for none, and enjoyed the attention of all. Except that Jacklins boy. She clicked her tongue in vexation this time. Why was that boy in her mind so much this morning. The head cook looked her way as she muttered to herself over the mug of tea she had made.
She banged the mug down and headed for the back door. If that boy was out there in the yard she would take a pitch fork to him this time. He had no right skulking about the place in the early dawn. Desare headed up the yard to the chicken pen. There was nothing there. A look along the wall where she had seen the strange shadow revealed nothing. No foot prints in the dust, nothing. Strange. She was sure she had seen something there. The sun was now just up, and the whole area well lit. No shadows to hide anything. Maybe it was just a left over part of her dream.
Desare walked across the yard and went back inside. Her parents and sisters were now all seated around the kitchen table, cook serving up the mornings fare of bacon, eggs, oats, milk and honey.
"Daga," said his wife. "You should have got up to see what was disturbing the chickens." Desare blinked, her mouth open about to speak.
"What is it girl?" Said her father. "You look like you've seen a dream walker."
"Er, no father. I also heard a noise by the chicken pen, but just now I could find no sign of anything or anyone."
The Trader, Annan Hamar walked into the room, holding the Seal of the Creator in his outstretched hand. It glowed and pulsed with a strange green light.
"What do you make of this Daga?" He asked the innkeeper. "It started just before dawn, it shone so brightly. It has almost faded now, and warmed to the touch. It had gone so cold when it woke me that frost had formed on its surface."
The hair on Desare's arms began to prickle again. She told her mother of her dream. Most of it anyway, but it still brought a rose to her cheeks. Jolin smiled kindly. Her daughter's dreams were her own, but what she told was interesting. She didn't mention that her own dream had also featured her daughter, wed in the yellow dress to the King of the Malachites, her daughter a Lady, a Queen.
Daga listened to his daughter's retelling and kept his lips sealed. He would not embarrass his daughter by telling how he had dreamt of her wed, in the yellow
dress, to the lord of the Dragon Armies returned, to Antonin, son of a local farmer. He thought it strange that their dreams were much the same though. He would speak of it with his wife when they were alone, later.
Desare reached out her hand toward the Great Seal. She didn't dare touch it. She had seen what it could do. As her hand approached, it changed abruptly to give off a bright yellow glowing aura. She withdrew her hand and the misty haze surrounding the Seal changed to a deep blue and steadied.
The Trader looked at the Seal, and looked at Desare as if seeing her for the first time. He looked back at the Seal, now warm in his hand and glowing with a steady blue light.
"Something." He cleared his throat. "Something came in the early dawn. I believe it may have been... umm, er, " The Trader was actually shuffling his feet."Um, seeking out, um, your daughter Desare." He cleared his throat again. the Trader was a huge man by anyone's standards. To see him so ill at ease was as much of a surprise as what he had just said. Daga was on his feet, his tea slopping over and dripping down his fingers onto the floor. It must have been hot, but he didn't feel it. Desare's mother had gone as white as a sheet. Desare had just blinked. Antonin would take care of her. She blinked again. What was this madness? That was a dream. She stamped her foot. Perhaps she was still in the dream? It didn't feel like it though.
"Master Hamar, how do you know this?" She asked.
"I don't know," he replied. "I think the Great Seal tells me. I can - feel it - hear it. Like words in my head. that's what drew me down here. I could feel something drawing me down here with great urgency. As soon as you drew near it changed to a feeling of, well, safety. I could sense the young man Antonin in this somewhere. Has he returned?"
Desare nearly fainted. This was a dream after all. She started crying, the tears streaming down her face as she sobbed uncontrollably. What had she done to deserve this? A lovely dream within a dream was turning into a nightmare. Perhaps if she lay down again, she would then wake up and everything would be normal again. Desare fled from the room, up the stairs and dove into her bed, puling the sheets over her head to block out the light. It was only light in her dream, but it would still keep her awake. The bed shook from time to time as deep sobs gripped her. It was so unfair. Trapped here in a bad dream when Antonin in the good dream could rescue her, just like in the stories she had read. The hero and the girl living happily in their castle, lots of pretty children running through the halls. Finally Desare drifted into a fitful sleep again. Unknown to her, her mother had watched quietly from the door as the sobs subsided, and steady breathing told her that her daughter had gone back to sleep. This was not good. She would tell her husband of her own dream. The Trader, the keeper of the Great Seal should also be told. He was strangely linked to the Seal, and it was a guard against evil such as had not been seen. Her family must be protected. She would do it even if it meant never sleeping again.
Desare drifted in her sleep. She was dreaming again. She seemed to be in some kind of thick fog. It was suffused with a deep blue light that seemed to have no source. She could feel that she was drifting through this fog as though she had no body, only consciousness. Drifting toward something. She knew she was asleep again. It was as though she was conscious and in another place. It didn't seem threatening, so Desare decided to just drift, and see where the dream took her. She knew beyond any doubt that she could step out of the dream and back into her bed anytime she wanted. The fog began to thin ahead of her. Strange towers thrust up out of the cloud ahead of there. The stone work appeared to be ancient. The design was recognisable but old. Nothing like these towers had been built in any age that she know off. The towers were round, and seemed numberless, faint outlines of many more glimpsed through the fog. They were very high, all castellated at the top, some with smaller spires projecting from within the rooftop walls. These carried pennants of a jet black, with golden dragons emblazoned on them. The great five clawed beasts of legend seeming to be alive as the pennants stirred lazily in the wind. The stone work of the towers was a deep blue. Desare had never seen anything like it. She would ask Master Hamar about it when she awoke. At the thought of the Traders name, the fog cleared instantly. One minute it as there. The next not. With a start Desare realized she was far above the ground, floating bodiless in her dream. As if to test the dream state she thought of her own bed, and could actually feel herself asleep in her room. She could even sense that her mother stood watching from the door.
Something kept her in the dream though. Some feeling that this was important. Those blue towers were very important. Desare let out a yell of surprise as she suddenly found herself standing on the porch of one of the towers, a huge brass bound oak door in front of her. Looking around, she could see that this was all part of a huge castle. The deep blue of the stone work seemed to mute everything. All other colour seemed drained, as though looking through a shard of blue glass. The doorway was a double door, wide enough for two or three horsemen abreast to go through, and certainly high enough to give plenty of clearance to such.
Desare looked down at herself. With a start she realized that not only could she now see herself, she was also completely unclothed. With another squeal of embarrassment she wished she had some decent clothes on. Should anyone see her, she would die of shame. Her cheeks were burning even now, and no one was in sight. With a start she found that she was smoothing the folds of a skirt across her hips. She had dressed herself into her own plain working clothes. Brown long skirt that covered even her ankles. Stout shoes on her feet. Her white blouse buttoned up to her chin, and her long puffed sleeves giving her plenty of room to move about her tasks when helping in the inn. She never worked in the Common Room of course. Her father would not let her near the coarse types who frequented that part of the inn. She didn't think they were coarse though. Mostly farmers and village men, simply relaxing away from the strictures of family life and a life of toil and hardship that seemed to be as unending as the seasons that came and went. Father's word was law though, so Desare kept to the rest of the inn and didn't complain. She often found herself working though, where she could overhear the talk from the common room. Even as a child, she wanted to know everything about everyone. She stored up the knowledge as a dam stores water. Calm on the surface, but with great depth.
Finding herself in a blue tower, at least in front of a blue tower meant a chance to learn what was happening. "Perhaps Antonin was here?" She said aloud. Desare jumped, as at the thought of Antonin's name a deep boom had sounded as though the largest bell in the world had been struck. The very air vibrated. Desare could feel the deep waves of sound in the stone on which she stood. Even her eyes vibrated. Slowly, ever so slowly the sound died away. Nothing else changed. Unknown to Desare, every Wind Reader in the world stopped dead in her tracks, or sat bolt upright awakened from sleep as though the bell had sounded right in their heads. As did the others, Mei'An gave a cry and clutched her head in her hands, tears springing from her eyes. Such pain as she had never felt. Who could have struck the warning bell so loudly. No Wind Reader had such power, never since the beginning of time. Even then only legend told of the old powers. Luan was on his feet, sword out, looking for enemies. Mei'An rocked back and forth in her chair, clutching her head still. Luan could not help - only guard her.
To Desare it had only been a deep sounding bell, even if it had dislodged the mortar in the stone work about her. "Is anyone there?" She called out a little timidly. She was after all only a girl, and not yet even old enough to wear her hair up in the fashion of the older girls and women of the village. There was no answer. She noticed her cloths had changed again to those of a little girl. A short floral printed skirt that showed her knees. Sandals on her feet, and a rag doll in her hand. Desare giggled.
"So this is how I looked as a child." The clothes flickered to her best festival dress. this was fun. "If only Antonin could see me now." She said. Somewhere the huge bell boomed, more mortar dust drifting into the air. The huge doors in front of Desare swung o
pen on silent hinges. Along with Mei'An, Wind Readers everywhere were almost prostrate with the pain of the bell's echo in their minds. Unnoticed by everyone else, Antonin himself felt as though he was in the middle of a wild electrical storm. The hairs on his arms were standing up straight. He could hear the boom of the bell, but although loud, it wasn't uncomfortable. He could not even begin to imagine what was happening.
Desare connected the bell's sounding with the saying of ... her friends ... name. Could it be? A very intelligent girl, Desare decided to test it one last time to be sure. She didn't want to bring down the whole stone tower accidentally after all.
"Antonin?" She called aloud, the question in her voice. This time she got a real fright. The bell sounded as though it had broken loose from where ever it was secured and was now rolling down a grassy hill. Some muted, some loud enough to shake the foundations of the towers.
"oops." Gulped Desare.
Mei'An was on the floor, chairs and tables scattered as she howled in pain. Her eyes were squeezed shut, but the tears leaked out regardless. Luan cradled her in his arms until her writhing stopped. She was gasping for breath. Panting, she was trying to speak. The common room was in uproar. The look on Luan's face enough to freeze blood in veins. No one knew what was happening though, not even Luan. In other parts of the world it was chaos. Antonin was staggering on his feet, the Wind Reader Sarweio, only moments before calm, though clutching her head for some reason, was now writing on the floor and howling in pain. The Maidens were on their toes, poised to strike in any direction, if only the danger would show itself. The Companion, after a quick appraisal of any likely danger, was cradling Sarweio so she didn't hurt herself.
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