by Paul Latham
Tinted red . . . no, that was the Chalice, glowing scarlet within arm’s reach to his right. And it looked like a chalice, he noted. A goblet of swirling crystal with the mouth closed by an oblong orb.
He reached for it but paused as he remembered the vision. Or hallucination. Or something. The sights, the sounds, the warrior lingered fresh in the front of his mind. After a second more of hesitation, Velar gripped the Chalice by its neck and waited. The red glow intensified momentarily but Velar felt nothing, saw nothing. With a grunt through gritted teeth, he pushed to his feet.
"Velar!" Shilandra screamed.
He didn't have the strength to shout back. With a last look at the serpent, coiled belly up with its mouth agape, Velar made his way back to the entrance by the light of the Chalice.
"Velar, people are coming!"
After tying the Chalice to his belt with a length of leather from his boot, Velar gripped the rope and pulled himself up.
"Riders, three of them!" Shilandra cried from somewhere near the door.
Cold sweat beaded his forehead. As hard as he tried he could not keep the rough braid of the rope away from his skinless chest. He reached the stone lip of the opening and with some effort pulled himself through, rolling onto the sand and willing the pain to subside.
"Velar!" Shilandra dashed from the door to his side. "It's Eshlex. One of them carries a banner and I can see the falcon. There's three of them and-" Her hand went to her mouth. "Your chest." Her eyes widened. "The Chalice!" She reached for it and he caught her wrist.
"Don't touch it."
"But-"
"Help me up."
She pulled back and he rose to his feet.
"Stay here," he said and walked to the door.
Chapter Sixteen
Shilandra had lit torches and thrust them into the sand just outside the doorway. The three riders stood just inside the circle of light, still mounted, waiting.
Velar could feel it building as he knew it would. The anger, the rage. They presumed to stand in his way. Just as Gelai had and would again. He had fought, he had bled, and the Chalice was his. And they would take it.
He focused the pain and fed it to the anger.
"That's it," one said and pointed. "That must be it."
The one in the center, scarred and weathered with gray hair, nodded.
"You're about a miserable sight, boy," he said. "Give us the Chalice and we'll go. You've been through enough."
Velar nodded. "Yes," he said in a low voice. "I've been through enough." The anger boiled and seethed in his chest.
The one to the left of the leader drew his sword and urged his mount forward several steps.
"We will take it if we have to, wretch," he spat.
Velar cocked his head to one side and narrowed his eyes.
"I think not," Velar replied. Lifting his hand almost casually, he focused.
Destruction is simple.
Laces of blue energy bolted from his fingertips and lanced through the warrior's head. He fell dead from the saddle as his mount bolted into the darkness.
The leader pulled an axe from a boot on his saddle and charged. Velar released, and a circle of blue flame emerged from his body and moved forward as it expanded. As the leader and his mount passed through the circle, they fell to ash. The flames dissipated.
Velar turned to the last warrior. He didn't have the strength and felt the rush of relief as the warrior turned his mount and vanished into the darkness.
His legs felt elastic and insubstantial. But he had to stand. He had to make sure the warrior rode well away.
"Velar?"
With eyes wide, she walked around him giving him a wide berth.
"You did it," she said.
He tried to nod but the darkness spiraled in, his legs buckled, and he fell to the sand.
* * *
"Well done," the warrior said.
The battlefield again. Red mist swirled and swallowed the legions of dead. The warrior sat casually with his back against a gnarled tree.
"What's this place?" Velar asked.
"An in-between of sorts."
Velar nodded. "And you would be the last warrior king."
"I was the last then?" He snorted. "Damned priests were right. Imagine that."
"What's your name?"
The warrior lifted an eyebrow. "Impertinence. Another good sign."
"Sign of what?"
"Khurin."
Velar frowned. "What's Khurin?"
"My name."
Velar nodded.
Khurin's eyes appeared to glaze over for a moment. "The woman needs you."
Velar felt the sand against his face and Shilandra pulling on his arm.
"Please, Velar, you have to get on your horse."
His arms felt numb, his legs like stone.
"Pull me up," he wheezed as he rolled on to his back.
With Shilandra pulling, Velar staggered to his feet. Nausea clenched his gut and brought bile boiling to his throat.
"Bring Akeil."
"He's right here."
Velar turned and saw the massive steed only a step or two away.
"Tap his front leg and tell him to kneel."
Shilandra did so but Akeil only snorted and stomped.
"Stupid horse," Shilandra snapped.
"Tap his leg again."
She patted his knee.
"Kneel," Velar ordered and Akeil did so.
Velar limped over and, steadied by Shilandra, swung into the saddle.
"Tie me on," Velar said. "When we get out of the Canyon, go east along the mountains for a ways and then turn south."
Shilandra nodded.
The darkness swirled in again and Velar surrendered to it.
* * *
"I'm Velar."
Khurin nodded. "A fair name. Stately even."
"What happens now?" Velar asked.
"Good question," Khurin replied. "What does happen now?"
Velar shrugged. "I suppose I take you, or the Chalice actually, back to Aylos." Velar lowered himself to the ground. "Present the Chalice to the Chancellor and my oath is fulfilled."
"Your oath?" Khurin lifted a thick eyebrow. "What exactly are you, boy? You fight like a devil and image better than the priests of my day."
"I am a knight of Anocren."
"Knight?" Khurin leaned forward. "Anocren? What in all the hells? Anocren? That pompous windbag."
"You knew Anocren?"
"Knew him," Khurin snorted. "The bastard served me as one of my generals. Couldn't be trusted. Serious ethic problem."
Velar frowned. "He lacked ethics."
Khurin shook his head. "Quite the contrary. Never could get anything done without his mouth inserting some opinion on the ethics of the situation. Damned irritating. But he added some balance to the councils."
"So, you see ethics as obstacles?"
Khurin fixed Velar with a hard stare. "It was war. It was conquest. Ethics has little to do with hacking your way through legions of the enemy to achieve your purpose."
"And your purpose is conquest."
"Yes," Khurin replied with a grim smile. "There are those that are born to rule. Those like yourself."
Velar shook his head. "I have no desire to rule. I'm satisfied to serve."
"Such a lack of desire only fuels the fires of destiny."
"No."
"You must, Velar." Khurin's eyes burned. "You will. My essence will blend with your essence and together we will take the lands. Damn. Your woman is in a panic again."
* * *
"Velar." She gently slapped his face. "Wake up. Please, wake up."
"What . . .?" His throat felt raw and full of grit. "Water," he coughed.
Shilandra put the lip of a water skin to his mouth. The warm liquid eased the fire in his throat.
"Where are we?" Velar asked and tried to rise to a sitting position but pain like tiny explosion erupted through his entire body. Groaning, he eased back onto the sands.
&n
bsp; "We rode all night and all day and its night again. I found a high point and set up the torches like Coka did. But if the shrykes come you can't fight and-"
"Have you heard them?"
Shilandra frowned then shook her head.
"Then we're probably safe."
"I don't think so," Shilandra said, her voice shuddering slightly.
Velar tried to smile. Her face appeared drawn and thin. Exhaustion rimmed her eyes along with welling tears.
"You're really very beautiful," Velar said.
"You're really very delirious."
Velar pushed himself up. Pain exploded again but he channeled it away. "Bring one of the saddles."
Shilandra scurried over and pulled Akeil's saddle to Velar's side.
"I'll keep watch," Velar said. "If I hear the call, I'll wake you and we'll make a run for it."
Shilandra threw up her hands in a hopeless gesture and surveyed the surrounding darkness. "I can't sleep."
"Then just lay down and rest."
With some effort, Velar positioned himself, so he could lean against the saddle. Shilandra retrieved a blanket and unfurled it beside Velar. Minutes later she lay curled in a tight ball snoring softly.
Velar felt for the Chalice and found it, still tied to his waist with a leather strap. He pulled it into his lap.
What to do?
Return the relic to the Chancellor and be done with it.
But Velar somehow doubted that the Chancellor expected this. To be imbued with the essence of Khurin. If Khurin would even accept the Chancellor as a host.
Velar heaved a painful sigh. He wouldn't of course. He would wait for someone more rugged, more warrior-like with a reasonable lack of ethics. Jocaris wouldn't do. Colmar might. Velar had no idea as to the General Elite's level of ambition. Khurin wanted to conquer, to again rule over all the lands. That meant war. The Chancellor wanted the Chalice as a symbol of power and unity. Whatever his intent, Velar could reason that all-out war was what the Chancellor hoped to avoid.
What to do?
Throw the thing into the desert. Let the Sands swallow Khurin's essence and tell the Chancellor a fanciful tale.
Or the truth. That the last warrior king only wanted his lands back.
But the Chancellor wouldn't believe him. Jocaris wouldn't believe him. Colmar wouldn't care. There was some comfort there.
Duty. Honor. Glory. He would take it back.
Duty.
As he had sworn to do.
Honor.
He would try to explain to the Chancellor and other of his experience and warn him.
"Duty, honor and glory," Khurin said. "High ideals."
The warrior king stood only a few feet away, shimmering in the starlight.
Velar concealed his surprise. "You can take my thoughts?"
Khurin nodded as he stroked his beard and scanned the night sky. "I have a finger or two pressing against your spirit. You see, the priests designed the Chalice so that the first person that touched it would receive my essence."
"It didn't work."
Khurin lowered his gaze. "If I were forced to speculate, I would say it has something to do with your powers of command. I doubt even you know how developed you are."
"So, I have to consent to the bonding?"
"It would appear so."
"I will not."
Khurin nodded as he casually walked to one of the torches and passed his spectral hand through the flames several times.
"So, tell me of honor, Velar."
"What is there to tell?"
"It guards your soul, does it not?"
"It is the foundation of my principles."
"Foundation." Khurin nodded thoughtfully.
"You seem lacking."
"In honor?"
Velar nodded.
"Depends on your definition," Khurin said. "During my time I brought a thousand petty, bickering lords under one crown and demanded peace. I crushed those that would not submit, coddled those that would and gave the people something to live for."
"Something to live for?"
"Hope." Khurin crossed his arms on his chest and cast his eyes again upwards. "It's a difficult life for those pitiful souls that live in the dirt, scraping food from dusty fields to fill noble bellies. Nothing is sacred. They come and take your food, rape your women, treat your children as dogs then throw you under the feet of the first invader that crosses the border. I changed that. My word. My law. My soldiers enforcing that law."
Velar nodded.
Khurin grunted and continued. "I see that as honorable."
"As do I," Velar commented.
"But my methods," Khurin held up a finger. "My methods were less than honorable, and I freely admit it. I made alliances with men I normally wouldn't bother to piss on. And I broke alliances and treaties with better men. All for the cause. All for the purpose."
"You played the game," Velar said.
"Yes," Khurin said, nodding. "I played the game. And I won. The common man won. The nobles won. The priests won." He spread his arms wide. "All the known lands won."
"You want them to win again."
Khurin lowered his arms as his gaze dropped to Velar. "Yes," he said. "Tell me the lands aren't once again divided."
"They are."
"Can you even tell me all the factions involved?"
"No."
"Is not what I propose an honorable venture?"
"It is."
"Then join me."
"I cannot."
Khurin sighed and let his chin fall to his chest.
"Duty serves honor," he said. "And your duty is to return the Chalice to," he waved a hand erratically in the air "whomever."
"Correct."
"The greater cause I speak of moves you not at all."
"On the contrary," Velar said. "It moves me a great deal. But it is not my place to rule. Your time to rule has past and this," He gripped the Chalice and held it up, "this has little to do with your cause. You and your priests have found a way to extend your life. I can easily question your motivation in this matter."
"I was given the opportunity," Khurin replied, his voice rising. "What man would refuse if so offered."
"Few that I know," Velar said. "But did you truly have the condition of the realm in mind when you accepted."
"I did."
"Did the Fall occur before or after you accepted?"
Khurin's face grew lined and severe. "What difference would that make?"
"All the difference. If you accepted after, then I could perhaps be persuaded to accept your honorable intentions."
"The priests had predicted the Fall," Khurin snapped. "It would have happened either way."
"So, you went before."
Khurin closed his mouth and squared his shoulders.
Velar continued.
"So, the lands lose their king, the warrior king that united them."
"I did not cause the Fall," Khurin said evenly.
"And your intentions were honorable, and you had only the good of the people at heart."
"I did not cause the Fall," Khurin growled through grinding teeth.
Velar sprang to his feet, concealed the shock of the pain with a sneer. "How would you know?" he said. "You weren't even there."
Khurin stepped back.
"Impertinence," he muttered. "I said I admired it."
He turned and faded slowly from view.
Velar collapsed back into the sand and laid his head on the saddle as he slowly released a long slow breath.
"Velar, who were you talking to?" Shilandra muttered beside him.
"Just arguing with the last warrior king."
"Oh."
Her snoring resumed.
Chapter Seventeen
"Why can't I touch it?" Shilandra asked.
Velar winced. He tried to remember what life consisted of before pain. His raw skin and the flesh of his chest cracked, peeled and oozed. It hurt to cover it, but the sun baked and boiled, and new flashe
s of agony made themselves apparent with each plodding step Akeil took.
"Velar," Shilandra said.
"What?"
"Why can't I touch it?"
Sweat flowed into his wounds.
"There are effects."
"You said that."
"Then what do you want?" By the Order, was silence too much to ask? His misery provided adequate company.
"I want to know what affects you experienced."
"I think that's irrelevant."
"It is not irrelevant when the artifact I've spent a good part of my life searching for is within arm’s reach and someone won't let me touch it."
"Shilandra" Dark shapes clouded his vision as his stomach heaved and his throat clenched. "I think you had better tie me to the saddle again," he gasped.
Shilandra dismounted and rushed to Akeil's side. Quickly, she tied Velar's legs to the stirrup straps and his hands to the horn of the saddle.
"Don't touch it Shilandra," Velar hissed. "You'll regret it."
"Is that a threat?"
Velar shook his head. "Please trust me."
She looked at him for a long moment.
Then, as darkness swirled in, she nodded.
* * *
"Fine woman," Khurin said.
Velar sighed as he found himself on the battlefield again.
"I'm tired of talking," he said.
"Unfortunately, there's still much to talk about."
Velar moved to a large boulder and sat down.
"Talk, then."
Khurin walked casually to the mangled remains of a corpse that clung with gnarled hands to a dying tree. He unsheathed his sword and thrust it deftly into the body. The dead soldier quivered and jerked spasmodically.
"What would you die for, Velar?"
"Whatever my commander tells me to die for."
"Pat answer. Relieves you of responsibility."
"I don't see how."
"You have no soul, Velar. Duty dictates that you blindly follow the commands of your superior."
"I wouldn't say blindly."
"I would."
"Yes, you would. But that is not the case."
Khurin pulled the sword from the corpse, walked slowly towards Velar and put the tip of the blade to Velar's throat.
"Would you die for this, Velar?"
"For the Chalice?" Velar looked down at the polished finish of the blade. "No."
"So, if I kill you in this place, this in-between, your body would be free for the taking."
