Primeval Origins : Paths of Anguish - Award Winning, New Epic Fantasy / Science Fiction (The Primeval Origins Saga Book 1)

by Brett Vonsik

  “Father’s stature,” Rogaan finished flatly, with a slight hint of contempt. Imtaesus’ brown face deepened in color. Rogaan was not fond of House Isin’s obsession with his father’s height, though he did come to accept their mocking comments about Mother being the taller of the two, almost by a hand. With a start, Rogaan recalled his purpose for returning to the house, and that his father was in trouble, and blurted the information out before thinking of how it would affect his mother. “Father has been arrested by the Tusaa’Ner and is being taken somewhere! He must be rescued! I am going to free him!”

  “Rogaan, no.” Sarafi stared down her son with those penetrating green eyes and tightened her grip on his forearm. “You can do your father no good with such action.”

  “Mother,” Rogaan said in an authoritative tone, uncommon with him when speaking with his parents. “Father must be rescued. He has done nothing to justify being arrested.”

  “He is a threat to the leaders of Brigum and Farratum,” Sarafi announced matter-of-factly as she held her son’s eyes with her own. Rogaan went numb and his face must have shown his shock, from the sympathetic look she returned. Sarafi remained silent for a moment, hesitating, and with uncertain eyes -- something he rarely saw in her. To Rogaan, his mother appeared to be considering something, words she should say, what she could say. After a few uncomfortable moments, she continued. “As they see it. Your father is not a simple craftsman you think him to be, my son. He has been involved in the affairs of Brigum and Shuruppak since before you were born...since before I was born, for that matter. He holds no ruling scepter, nor does he wear a crown, but he has influence and allies spread across these lands.”

  “He’s made enemies, too,” Imtaesus added seriously. Sarafi snapped him a sharp look, but he seemed not too concerned by it.

  Returning her attention to Rogaan, she continued. “Your father was an ambassador from Turil long ago, when Shuruppak was less a nation and more a cobbling of regional powers and more aggressive to its neighbors, mostly Turil. Your father helped bring an end to years of conflict, but was exiled from Turil for reasons unknown, even to me. He came to live here in Brigum and took up metal crafting as his clan in Turil was renowned for, but he kept a hand in the affairs of Brigum and Shuruppak. He became ally of House Isin and others in Shuruppak’s Civil War, and helped bring that struggle to an end, too, before you were born. Since the time the Proclamation of the Govern was signed by Shuruppak’s city-states, your father has kept to his metal-making while less openly continuing to forge agreements and alliances across Shuruppak. He did this for the purpose of keeping the nation stable and friendly to its neighbors...Turil.”

  “How was it I never knew any of this?” Rogaan asked with the simmering heat of anger and embarrassment that he so lacked the skill to see his father’s dealings while growing up under the same roof. Then his spine shivered with realization that his mother was sharing long-held secrets. Something must be very wrong. “Why are you telling me this…now?”

  “Your father is very good at what he does.” Sarafi spoke with a pride that would be difficult to fake. “A master at metal-making, diplomacy, and strategy. You would not see anything he did if he did not want you to see. As for why I am speaking of this at this time…it was your father’s wish that it be so.”

  “What are you saying?” Rogaan felt utterly confused and concerned that things were truly not well.

  “You are to be his successor,” Sarafi replied with a warm smile. “He was to begin your teachings after your Zagdu-i-Kuzu ceremony.”

  A wave of shame washed over Rogaan at how he had treated and disobeyed his father concerning the Hunt and his shunir’ra. He had not the first inkling of his father’s plans for him -- and with a vibrant prickling of his skin, Rogaan felt a renewed sense of urgency to see his father free, again.

  “Why was Father taken?” Rogaan asked seriously with a determined voice.

  “I am uncertain,” Sarafi confessed, with a lost and sad look upon her face. “He knew this would come to pass and set plans in motion -- I do not pretend to understand for the most of it. He sent you away on the Hunt to avoid the trouble of a few days ago and had House Isin...and another house...prepare to keep you hidden away upon your return. Imtaesus was to see you escorted to my Father’s estate. Your father then left on the day the Farratum Tusaa’Ner arrived…to keep me from harm, I think. The Tusaa’Ner arrested him, then came here in search of the Isell-Dingir they claim as hidden wealth subject to the new tax imposed by Farratum.”

  “What happened here?” Pax asked from somewhere behind Rogaan.

  All turned and saw Pax and Suhd standing timidly near the cook room door. Sarafi let out an exasperated sigh. In Rogaan’s mind he saw the expression on her face. She was not pleased, especially since Pax had likely overheard their words. In truth, Rogaan had forgotten about Pax and Suhd the moment he saw the blood spatters on the floor. Looking at his mother to read her reaction to Pax’s presence, he caught a glint of blade in Imtaesus’ hand that suddenly disappeared after Sarafi placed a blood-stained restraining hand on her brother’s arm.

  “They are Rogaan’s friends.” Sarafi spoke with a forced smile that Rogaan did not know how to read. Imtaesus then tilted his head, slightly, to acknowledge the two.

  “I mean, da blood and all,” Pax continued. “Ya seem ta be not too safe here. If ya ask me...pardon me?” That last Pax added after Suhd gave him a sharp elbow in the side.

  “True,” Imtaesus replied with a half-sweep of his left arm toward the front door, the knife now gone. “We were attacked by a Keeper of the Ways as we entered the house. I think we surprised him and struggled with him, Igim and I, before he cut me and fled. Igim is off in chase.”

  “How is it you know him as a Keeper?” Sarafi asked skeptically. She was genuinely surprised by her brother’s announcement of who had harmed them. She seemed to not have known.

  “His marking...on the forehead,” Imtaesus replied matter-of-factly, as if it were obvious to everyone. “The Keepers’ dagger and flame. I’ve crossed a few times. They have influence in the east, but I’ve not known them to show themselves this far west. He seemed a cut-throat or poorly trained thief.”

  “Lugasum?” Rogaan turned to Imtaesus, alarmed and demanding an answer. Imtaesus kept silent with a face of stone then glanced to Sarafi, who chewed words for a few moments before speaking.

  “Your father feared more than the reach of Shuruppak.” She spoke solemnly and carefully. “There are those who consider all of our lives today an offense to the Ancients and fearing their retribution would see us return to the ways of old when the Ancients ruled with a visible and stern hand. I fear this...lugasum was such a person sent by the Keepers of the Way to silence your father’s heart and guiding hand.”

  “And you,” Imtaesus added while staring at Rogaan before suffering a glaring protest from his sister. Imtaesus returned an argumentative look then continued once she looked away in frustration. “Rogaan is in danger, too. This assassin wasn’t here only for your father or mother. You must return with me to House Isin, immediately.”

  “No, Imtaesus.” Sarafi’s calm protest came with her eyes fixed on the front door, but her gaze was more distant. She appeared troubled, struggling with a decision. “That is not Mithraam’s wish. Not now, with cut-throats among us. My One left instructions for our son if an attempt was made on his life before he could be placed under Isin’s protection. Again, I do not understand fully My One, but his strategies have always proven best.”

  Imtaesus looked as if his eyes would pop out of their sockets. He clearly didn’t know this part of the plan. He made to protest by straightening his stance and puffing out his chest, but was cut off by another of Sarafi’s famous penetrating glares.

  “Rogaan is to go to the Ebon Circle,” Sarafi announced, so that there would be no challenge to her words.

  “No!” Imtaesus replied angrily. All cordial pretenses were gone from his tone, and his face darkened. Gasps from so
mewhere behind Rogaan echoed in the room. “That just isn’t to be. Better the assassin than to take the youngling there.”

  “Imtaesus, this is Mithraam’s wish.” Sarafi spoke with the authority of a queen. “He was very clear on this. Somehow he anticipated this possibility. This is to be.”

  Sarafi briskly waved her hand at Imtaesus, stopping his objection before it burst out. “Imtaesus, you have been away for some years and do not understand the present relationship between House Isin, Mithraam, and the dark robes.”

  She settled her gaze on Rogaan. Her eyes turned sad, glassy. She then looked at Pax and Suhd and seemed to be considering something new, then looked back to Rogaan. “I am sorry, my son, but you will be leaving this home, this town, and its people so that you can remain alive. I do not know when you will be able to return, but it is not safe for you here. Your father was insistent that if this came to pass, only the dark robes of the Ebon Circle would be capable of protecting you.”

  “They say the dark robes sacrifice people to the Ancients.” Suhd spoke in a broken voice, her eyes every bit as glassy as Sarafi’s. “They’ll do the unspeakable to Rogaan.”

  “Would no want that even for da worse folks,” Pax stated with a stunned expression.

  “Sarafi, you can’t want this?” Imtaesus asked, almost demanded of her in a low voice.

  “My wants do not matter.” Sarafi spoke with strong resolve. “I have already lost My One to the guard, and I will not lose my son. I cannot think Mithraam would send Rogaan to his capture or death, so I will trust. I must trust.”

  Tears trickled down Sarafi’s face as she struggled to regain control of herself with hand over her mouth. Rogaan could not remember the last time his mother cried. Maybe never. She was clearly shaken, and that worried Rogaan more than all other things, a hundred-fold.

  “You must leave soon.” Sarafi wiped her face with her hand. She turned her attention to Pax and Suhd. “Neither of you should be in serious trouble for your associations with us, but you now have knowledge that you should not, and that is a danger to Rogaan.”

  “I be helpin’ me ma and father!” Pax growled with a conviction that he would be successful. “Da guard took ‘em and I mean ta see ‘em free. Darken ‘em all.”

  “What are you speaking of?” Sarafi asked, honestly confused.

  “Their mother and father were taken by the Tusaa’Ner, too.” Rogaan explained. “By force. They were shoved into the jailer’s wagon with Father.”

  Sarafi and Imtaesus exchanged questioning glances. Imtaesus shook his head slowly left then right, as if answering an unspoken question posed by his sister, then stiffened his back with a slight grimace. “Younglings, there is nothing you can do to help them, now. The Guard means to take them from Brigum -- likely to Farratum, where they will be tried for some crime.”

  “Ya would do nothin’ to help ‘em!” Pax protested.

  “What will happen to them?” Suhd asked with tears streaming down her face.

  Imtaesus looked at Sarafi again with raised eyebrows, as if asking an unspoken question. She gestured with a tilt of her head toward Suhd and Pax. Imtaesus cleared his throat. “They will be tried in a Hall of Justice and likely found guilty.”

  “No!” Pax protested again. “We need ta stop da jail wagon and free ‘em. Me father and mother have done nothin’.”

  “That is of no matter,” Imtaesus replied coldly. “They are in the hands of the authority. If they committed even the smallest disobedience...as small as arguing with a law-arm, they will find themselves in a Farratum jail or quarry pits.”

  Suhd broke down in uncontrollable tears. Pax hugged his sister into his arms, his face a tortured contrast of anger and sadness. Rogaan felt his tears welling up for Suhd then fought them back. Suhd continued weeping until she looked exhausted, and Pax held her tight while wearing the glare of a madman bent on murder and a mountain of trouble.

  “What will become of Father?” Rogaan asked quietly.

  Sarafi and Imtaesus exchanged uneasy glances, and she looked near to tears. Imtaesus’ face softened, just a little, before he answered reluctantly. “The jail and pits are the least of your father’s fates. He’ll likely suffer a public execution or the Arena for being so troublesome to those in authority.”

  Rogaan was stunned. Execution! Put to death! Rogaan felt his world collapse. The thought that his father would no longer be in his life frightened him more than anything he had dreamt about or before considered. “No! We must stop this.”

  “Rogaan, we can’t,” Imtaesus stated. “They are many, and they must have the blessing of the Regional Hall of Laws to reach this far west in Brigum.”

  “Coward!” Rogaan growled.

  “Rogaan!” Sarafi chided. “Imtaesus is no coward. He is War Sworn trained and here to protect us.”

  Pax and Suhd both looked to Imtaesus with asking eyes; Pax still held that murderous look. Rogaan fought his rage and his fear. He wanted to do something -- had to do something, or he would explode, but he held his tongue as his father had often taught him when upset, and as his mother now demanded. Rogaan’s rage slowly transformed to a simmering, determined anger-enough for him to speak though through clenched teeth.

  “If you are War Sworn, then help us.” Rogaan asked with heated eyes. “You know the way of battle. You are exactly the help we need.”

  “Knowing the ways of battle is but a small part in understanding war.” Imtaesus spoke as a teacher, calm and certain. “Understanding your enemy is the true means to gaining victory -- whether you use the sword, quill, or tongue.”

  “You make no sense.” Pax made his accusation with a sneer. Suhd still clung tightly to him, but now with calmer tears and only the occasional sniffle.

  Rogaan stood staring at the floor, chewing his thoughts of the many lessons given to him by his father. At the time his father taught him the Philosophy of Conflict, as the tellen interpreted it, he never conceived of actually using it, even less understanding it, but Imtaesus’ words were familiar and made sense to him…somehow. “We do not even know who we are fighting fully other than those who were sent to do a guardsman’s work…and this Keeper cut-throat. They are many and we few and we have no plan. We need one. We need help.”

  They argued for some time about what to do and who would do it. Arguments were mostly between Sarafi and Imtaesus, though Rogaan managed to get a few of his ideas across and influenced some of the discussion despite his overall frustration. Imtaesus argued for Rogaan to travel to House Isin’s land holding south of Brigum, where he could be protected by the small army of guardsmen loyal to the Isin family. Sarafi was unbending in her insistence that Rogaan follow Mithraam’s wishes and seek protection in the Ebon Circle. The thought of the dark robes in the Ebon Circle unsettled Rogaan the more they talked about it. Though his father was always even-handed concerning what he said about the secretive cult. Others in Brigum spoke often of their evil deeds and atrocities. This left Rogaan uncertain as to what was true, but the dark robes frightened him. Pax appeared appalled at the discussion, but kept silent mostly while leaning against the wall, brooding a dark thunderstorm of thoughts. He made it clear to everyone that he would free his parents with or without help. Suhd kept her tongue mostly, with only her sniffling and occasional weeping that let everyone know she was still in the room. With their discussion near an end, Igim returned agitated and empty-handed. The burly man offered several sincere apologies to Imtaesus and Sarafi for his failure to take captive the wounded cut-throat. He made no excuses, though offered a report that told of much boldness on the part of the Keeper to evade capture, so much so that even Imtaesus seemed impressed.

  “It is settled,” Sarafi announced after Igim made his report.

  “What’s settled, Sarafi?” Imtaesus was surprised and clearly not pleased with his sister’s declaration and tone.

  She finished washing her brother’s blood from her hands in a water basin she had poured herself just before Igim burst through the front doo
rs unannounced. “The...cut-throat still lives, Imtaesus, and Rogaan remains in peril. As long as that is true, House Isin’s estates, both here in town and to the south, are not safe enough for my son. Mithraam has confidence enough in the Ebon Circle. I must trust his judgment.”

  Imtaesus made to protest, again, but was cut short by a brisk wave of his sister’s hand and her hard, penetrating stare. Rogaan shivered for him. Once she made up her mind, nothing short of the Ancients could change it, and that would be a fight. “Pax and Suhd, you will find protection in our family’s estate south of Brigum until the return of your parents.”

  “I be going after me ma and father,” Pax shot back flatly. His eyes still burned with murderous intent.

  “You know too much,” Sarafi replied, also flatly. “Rogaan is in danger if you talk.”

  “No talkin’ by me and not of me friend,” Pax countered in a serious tone. He played with a blade in his hand that he pulled from somewhere. “I be going with him. So if I be caught and talk, it no be mattering.”

  “Pax, no,” Suhd whispered fearfully. “Don’t leave me. What will happen to me?”

  Pax made to answer, but Sarafi acted first, placing two comforting hands upon Suhd’s shoulders while holding Pax’s eyes with her own, measuring him and his conviction. “Are you certain, Pax?”

  Pax nodded with steady eyes, matching Sarafi’s stare. “Will House Isin still protect Suhd?”

  “Yes,” Sarafi answered with the authority of a queen speaking for her kingdom. “She will be protected well away from the workings of Brigum. Igim will see to her safe travel with me while Imtaesus accompanies you two to the Ebon Circle, tonight.”

  Imtaesus’ eyes grew wide. He stared at his sister for a few moments, a bit angry and with a challenge in his eyes. “You’re not thinking clear? The road is no place to be at night, and you know that.”