Chronicles Of Aronshae (3 Book Omnibus)

by J. K. Barber

  “Somewhere more comfortable and a bit less dirty, too,” she said jokingly. Talas smiled and laughed heartily.

  “Perhaps, but no place is as truly quiet and holy as here. Shall we?” He gestured for her to go first up the stairs. Once at the top, Talas indicated he would need to gather his few belongings from his cell before leaving. Traversing the soft grass of the garden to his room, Sasha’s curiosity got the best of her.

  “Brother Talas now is it?” she asked.

  “Yes,” he smiled. “I will tell you about my reclaimed title, but that will require me to tell you a little of my past too.” Sasha gestured for him to continue. “Very well, I was once a priest of the Great Mother, a member of the Order of Arms that traveled with the King’s Army. I… well let’s just say something happened… and I left with a disquieted heart to become a mercenary for most of my adult life. Recent events and specifically what happened between you and your sister in the catacombs have brought me back into the Great Mother’s service.” He paused as they reached his door. “Do I have time to wash up before the meeting?”

  “You should, it isn’t for another two hours. I didn’t know how long it would take to get you, so I left as soon as I was given your summons,” Sasha replied, leaning casually against the doorframe.

  There was no lock on his door, just a latch accessible from either side. He opened it, went inside and began to take off his outer garments. The room really was tiny with only a cot, a small dresser with a mirror, and a wash basin.

  “Shall I wait outside, Ta… Brother Talas, while you freshen up?” Sasha asked.

  “No, please come in. I only want to splash some water on my face. You know, we should get some lunch here before heading back to the palace; there is no telling how long the meeting will take and I am famished.” The middle-aged man moved his chain shirt off the cot so that Sasha could sit down and regarded the woman thoughtfully as she seated herself. “Continuing our previous conversation from outside, I wanted to ask you something that is very important to me. Please, if you don’t mind my asking, tell me what you remember of you and Katya being joined in the catacombs.” He took off his tabard and undershirt, folding them neatly on the dresser. His chest was toned from years of wielding weaponry and covered in old battle scars. Sasha thought of the new scar on her left cheek where she had battled a bear while on patrol outside of Snowhaven a few months back. Will I have as many scars as Talas does at his age if I continue down the path of a warrior? She dismissed the thought for a later date and returned her attention to her friend. A plain chain with a simple silver ring strung on it hung from his neck. He poured a pitcher of fresh water into the basin and dipped a rough cloth into it. While he wiped down his face, neck and hands, Sasha recounted the occurrence in the catacombs.

  “Well, after I took the wound to my stomach,” she indicated with her finger where the slash contacted her just below the base of her plate chest piece, “I blacked out after I lost too much blood. I remember Katya standing over me before I lost consciousness. The next thing I remember was a…” she struggled for the right word, “a warm surge. I opened my eyes and words came out of my mouth that were not entirely mine. I was aware of my sister with me, her mind and thoughts melded to my own. There was a third presence with us though. She was strong, beautiful… intoxicating. The power that welled up from her into us… I can’t describe it. She spoke our name, Akor’shi-kai. I knew that we had to use our combined skills to defeat the corruption before us. We fought as one; Katya’s staff in one hand, my sword in the other, and the third presence pumping power into our attacks to strengthen them tenfold.”

  Talas finished cleaning up and tried to place the cloth on the pitcher’s rim. His hand shook though and it fell to the floor. Sasha regarded him curiously. He turned to her, his eyes wild. Sasha’s heart beat hard with sudden nervousness. He bent to one knee before her.

  “Sister, you truly have felt Her divine self within your own body. I am humbled before your grace and am honored to know one of Her Chosen.”

  “Talas, I don’t understand. Please, stop calling me a Sister and tell me what you truly know of all this,” Sasha asked as she stood, pulling him up to stand before her.

  “What do you believe in, Sasha?” he asked.

  “I believe that the Great Mother, Aronshae’s very heart, watches over us throughout our lives and guides us. Other than that I believe in steel and in loyalty.”

  Talas nodded and was silent. He turned away to pull on his shirt first and then the chain armor. He covered these with his green tabard and belted it all together. He placed his mace in its loop in his belt. Sasha stood with her hands on her hips, still expecting a response to her question.

  “Will you walk with me?” Talas asked as he ushered her out of his room back into the garden, his hand on her elbow. “I can’t tell you exactly what happened to you and your sister, Sasha, other than She chose you to be Her avatar. In the histories, there is only one reference to a time when She chose a champion.” He directed her toward the rear building, passing over the small stream on an arched wooden bridge. “I am not of the Order of Knowledge so I haven’t studied the texts, but I hear from other priests that it happened at a time of darkness fueled by a single individual of great evil, much like now with the Empress of Ice. To maintain the balance of light and dark, the Great Mother chose a champion to face him. What I fear for you Sister, is that when Her avatar’s purpose was complete and the evil was vanquished, the Chosen was no longer needed either. Once Chosen, the power granted cannot be taken away. He simply disappeared. What also perplexes me is that both you and your sister were Chosen. The bond between twin sisters must have allowed you both to be selected.” He looked up to see if she was following his explanation.

  Sasha’s face was drawn and pale. She looked like she was going to cry. Seeing him struggling for words to console her she pleaded, “I am not sure I believe all of this, Ta… Brother Talas. Let’s not speak of it anymore for now please.”

  Talas regretted the effect his story had on the young woman and feared he may have said too much. “I am sorry, Sasha. I didn’t mean to frighten you or cause you distress. Here we are.” The older man opened an oaken side door to the rear building for the swordswoman. “Let’s get some food in our bodies before we pass out from the effort of all this serious talk.” Talas winked at her, hoping to distract her from her worries.

  Sasha breathed a sigh of relief.

  “I am hungry,” she said, some pink returning to her cheeks.

  “Good, please sit down. I’ll get us some food.” He sat her at a long narrow, wooden table lined with matching benches. Looking around while Talas ducked into another room that must be the kitchen, the swordswoman noticed the table could possibly seat upwards of fifty people. About twenty people sat along its length watching her curiously out of the corner of their eyes. To avoid their gazes, Sasha returned her attention to the building around her; the table wasn’t one piece of wood but several tables simply pulled together. Wooden beams stretched the entire length of the room’s roof, supporting its weight. The walls were stone and decorated with tapestries of forest scenes. The door Talas went through had a twin further down the wall where he appeared shortly thereafter with a tray of dried meat, cheese, a round of bread, a couple of plates, and two goblets of wine. As he sat down across from her, she glimpsed a pair of double doors on the opposite wall.

  “Where do those lead?” she asked, inclining her head at the doors while fixing herself a plate.

  “Ah, those lead to the library and alchemical lab where the Order of Knowledge and Order of Alchemy study.”

  “You mentioned earlier you were, er… are a member of the Order of Arms. How many Orders are there within the Temple of the Great Mother and what is their purpose?” she inquired and bit into a strip of meat, chewing thoughtfully.

  “There are three Orders: Arms, Knowledge, and Alchemy. All practice our beliefs within their own field. There are three beliefs. Under the Great Mothe
r’s direction, we believe in the goodness of Man, the protection of the “Holy Vessel” which is Aronshae, and in Balance where man can live in harmony with Nature. The Order of Knowledge is comprised of historians, who document events as far back as mankind has existed. The Order of Alchemy focuses on working with herbs to cure disease and heal wounds, and those in the Order of Arms are the Great Mother’s protectors. My order, the Order of Arms, travels a good bit. We also oversee marriages, births, deaths, protect the temple and all its priests, and even travel sometimes with the King’s Army in times of war to guide the troops in matters of faith.” Now it was Talas’ turn to dig into his plate of food, his answer given.

  “While there was no Temple of the Great Mother in Snowhaven, these Orders of yours are not far from how we lived our lives there. The Sorcerer School worked with herbs and potions of rapid healing as well as collected information in their books. The corresponding Snowhaven Warrior School protects the sorcerers and defends the town,” Sasha related. “It makes sense also since Snowhaven is a part of the Kingdom of Illyander. Things are just different and bit more relaxed at the border towns I guess.”

  “Indeed. Now you understand a bit better.” Talas smiled.

  An elderly woman with her long white hair bound in tight braid that lay over her robed shoulder and almost brushed the floor sat down on the bench next to Talas.

  “Greetings of the day to you, Brother Talas. I heard from Brother Simon that King Morgan has summoned you to him,” the woman said in a kindly voice. Her face was wrinkled from age, but her smile still showed strength and vitality.

  “Mother Maya, greetings,” Talas said, standing and bowing to the High Priestess. “May I introduce you to Sasha Ironwright,” he added, inclining his head across the table to the swordswoman.

  “Greetings, Sasha. Not a Sister yet, eh? Which order are you training under?” Mother Maya asked, her eyes glancing at the ivy etching on Sasha’s armor. The older woman motioned to Talas to take his seat again with the wave of a hand, to which he complied.

  “Greetings, Mother Maya,” Sasha replied. “I do beg your pardon but I am not in training as you say. I am a graduate from the Snowhaven Warrior School. The King sent me for Brother Talas.”

  “Begging your pardon, I should know better at my age than to assume anything,” the older woman said with a chuckle. “I simply saw the Mother’s mark on your armor and my mind got ahead of me. Forgive me. It is a shame to hear your home is in the hands of a madwoman. Hopefully the King’s Army can reclaim it.” Mother Maya stood and placed a hand on Talas’ shoulder. “I meant only to stop by and say goodbye to Brother Talas. A Royal Summons hints that King Morgan will take you away from us for a time on an important mission. Our king is lucky to have you by his side, old friend,” she said patting his shoulder. Turning her head to speak to them equally, she continued, “May the Great Mother bless you both and guide you safely home.”

  “Thank you, Venerable One,” the older man said and patted her hand on his shoulder. “You have my thanks, also, for your forgiveness. The bitterness of loss blinded me in my impulsive youth. I will not doubt Her purpose again.”

  The woman smiled warmly. “The Great Mother perhaps, like any mother, finds it hard not to take a remorseful child back into Her arms. We are glad to have you back, Brother Talas. Take care… both of you. It was a pleasure to meet you, Sasha. You are, of course, welcome anytime. Don’t let Brothers Simon’s coarse disposition get to you,” she winked. “All are welcome to the Temple of the Great Mother, we just like to keep track of who comes in and out as a precaution. Good day.” With one last smile the matron left the companions to finish their meal.

  Jared breathed in, letting the scents of the royal gardens fill his nostrils and enjoying the feel of the summer sun on his skin. He had removed his boots and leather jerkin, leaving them in a pile on the soft grass. He wore only his faded leather breeches and a light rough-spun cotton shirt. Jared exhaled, doing his best to let the tension and feelings of being trapped leave his body. Ever since he had arrived in Aeirsga, the hunter had felt as though every wall he saw and every roof he stood under were gilded bars, pretty cages that made him feel anxious to leave. Jared inhaled again, allowing the warmth of the sun to penetrate his skin and warm the blood and muscles beneath. How long had it been since he had been beyond the walls of Aeirsga? How long had it been since he had spent a night beneath the stars? Jared knew that it had only been a couple of weeks, but being in the largest city in the kingdom, perhaps the largest city in the world for all the woodsman knew, had been making him feel increasingly uneasy.

  It was only here, in King Morgan’s private gardens, a small parcel of the Mother’s wilderness in the middle of the metropolis, that Jared felt the oppression of the city’s stone walls ease, even if just a little. Bordered on one side by the wall that surrounded the Royal Palace and on the other by the Palace itself, the wooded grounds were large by Aeirsga standards. However, to Jared, who was used to running trail in the expansive wilds of the great forests of Illyander, the wooded enclosure was tiny in comparison. The hunter couldn’t help but scoff a little inside at the garden around him. There were rigidly defined walkways, bordered by well-tended flowers and a handful of short trees, their growth held in check by frequently pruned and sometimes bound limbs. This small preserve of the natural world wasn’t very natural at all. Still, the king had been kind enough to allow Jared access to the Royal Gardens and for that the woodsman was grateful.

  “Of course,” King Morgan had said. “Anything for one of the heroes that saved the palace.” Jared had only bowed and quietly thanked the king for his kindness, unsure of what to do in the face of such praise and gratitude, especially from King Morgan himself. Since then, Jared had made time each day to come to the royal gardens and reconnect with the Great Mother.

  The woodsman’s thoughts turned to his friend Talas, the lapsed priest. What has the old man been up to, Jared wondered. He had barely seen Talas since the meeting with the king and his advisors, following the battle in the catacombs beneath Aeirsga. The aged veteran would disappear for days at a time into the city, returning occasionally and only briefly to see “how he was getting along” as the old man would say, and then vanish again. Jared had been into the city a couple of times himself, but the unease he felt between the tall buildings of Aeirsga and under the watchful eyes of the people in the city caused him to return to the palace. Word had gotten out that there had been an attack of some kind on the royal residence itself, and though few details had been made privy to the general citizenry, the populace knew that strangers had lately arrived to see King Morgan and the attack on their monarch had followed soon after. As such, merchants and tavern keepers had been giving anyone and everyone they were not familiar with subtly hostile glances and sidelong looks. Adding this behavior to Jared’s already nervous feelings about traveling in the city and the scents of so many people packed into such a confined space constantly assaulting his nose, it was no surprise that the woodsman spent most of his days over the past couple of weeks within the palace walls.

  Jared returned his attention to his surroundings. Though beautifully tended and full of well-manicured, if short, trees, the King’s Garden held no wildlife. Unless he counted the small birds, squirrels and the occasional hawk, Jared did not feel the presence of any larger animals in the lightly wooded enclave. Though he only rarely saw them while travelling through the world, the company of the forest’s denizens was sorely and unexpectedly missed. Like the singing of crickets in the summertime, Jared hadn’t really noticed the other creatures’ existences until they were absent.

  Jared relaxed further and reached out with his mind to the wildlife around him, attempting to find a squirrel or large bird in the area. Though he found it easier to make contact with larger animals, especially predators in general and canines specifically, Jared longed for the camaraderie of a creature, any creature, of the wild.

  Once, years ago, the woodsman had tried to make contact w
ith a cockroach he had found in his room in Sirus’ forest cabin. The insect had turned its antennae towards him for the briefest of moments and then with an almost human display of dismissal had gone back to its buggy activities. Jared had asked his mentor about it the next day, to which Sirus responded with raucous laughter. “Not all of the Mother’s creatures want to talk to us,” the huge man had said, rubbing his thickly bearded chin. “It’s probably a good thing too. No telling what the thoughts of an insect would feel like to us warm-bloods.” As an afterthought the elder woodsman had added, “Probably best you don’t try to talk to any snakes just yet. There’s a strangeness to the mind of a reptile that I can’t even begin to describe.” Jared had pressed his mentor for more information about reptiles but had been rebuked thoroughly with admonitions that he was just beginning to learn about contacting animals similar to him. He didn’t need to be “messing up his head any further trying to figure out creatures he had no business talking to anyway.”

  Jared caught movement in his mind’s eye and tore his thoughts away from animals, and people, of the past. Reaching out a little more, Jared saw a squirrel come around the trunk of the tree in front of him. The woodsman smiled and gently touched the small rodent’s mind. Sending the mental image of a nest inside the trunk of a tree, Jared tried to project a place of comfort and safety while holding out an open hand to the tiny creature. Sniffing the air, the squirrel moved forward in short darting motions, occasionally dancing left and right assessing any threat Jared might offer. The woodsman kept his body relaxed and his thoughts calm.

  Jared felt a sudden flash of terror from the squirrel and the tiny animal darted back behind the trunk of the tree from which it came. The image of a giant figure looming up behind Jared was the last thing the woodsman received from the squirrel before breaking contact. Rolling forward on one shoulder, Jared snatched up his sword from the ground in front of him, slinging the sheath from the blade as he hopped to his bare feet in a crouching position, two and a half feet of curved sword held in a defensive position before him.