Prophecy's Quest

by A. S. Hamilton

  Speaking of capturing the slaves, the captains of the patrols he was directing sent confirmation that they were in position and ready.

  'Remember,' Akileena sent to all the soldiers, 'not one of the slaves is to be harmed. Nathan has ordered that they are taken in custody completely intact.'

  Day 3 – Before Dawn

  Serenvale Plains (Near Kadita Marshlands)

  Sentary woke with a start. He frowned, trying to figure out what had caused him to wake. Pushing aside his blankets, he sat up. They all slept peacefully. Hagen and Te-eira were curled up together, as was Reya, Kiril and Ana. Where was Rose? That made him straighten up. Rose was supposed to be on watch.

  Rising, Sentary started to move towards the edge of the little clearing. It was possible Rose was just walking about the perimeter, they all did that when they drew the later shifts to help them stay awake.

  A rustling in the bushes drew his attention and as he turned to move towards it, he froze. He had been smiling, expecting that it was Rose. And Rose was there…

  With a soldier holding a knife to her throat.

  The terror on her face tugged at his heart, but he had not grabbed his bow. Sariah would have taken her bow with her. Or a knife. She would have had a weapon. Sentary could only stand there helplessly, knowing that if he made a noise, the soldier would kill Rose.

  He raised his hands, to show they were empty. Was it just one soldier? he wondered. That was unlikely, soldiers always travelled in groups of at least eight. He looked over his shoulder, and his suspicions were confirmed as the shadows moving forward resolved into men. Some held spears, others swords, but all were poised, ready to strike.

  Identifying a leader by his uniform Sentary said softly, 'Please. We will not fight. We are just slaves. Let me wake them. The children do not deserve the fright your blade at their throats will cause.'

  The leader hesitated. He frowned, as if listening to someone Sentary could not hear. That was when he realised the soldier was being guided by a mage. A mage had found them and guided the patrol to them. Finally, the soldier nodded.

  Sentary crouched by Hagen first, gently shaking him awake. The human's gold-brown eyes met his and he knew by Sentary's expression that something was seriously wrong.

  'We are surrounded by soldiers,' Sentary explained. 'I have promised them we will not resist to ensure the safety of the children. Wake Te-eira carefully.'

  He woke Reya and as he explained their circumstances her expression shifted from confusion to panic, but she understood their predicament and kept her fear under control. Once they were all awake, the soldiers moved in. Searching them for weapons and restraining them.

  'You made a wise decision,' the Captain told Sentary as he checked his bindings.

  'What will you do with us?'

  The Captain ignored him, moving on to check the restraints of the others.

  'Right,' he said to one of the soldiers when he finished. 'Get those four,' he pointed to Sentary, Hagen, Te-eira and Rose, 'onto horses. They'll come with us. Thane Kennelm will meet up with us, so we need to start heading towards him.'

  Another man, another captain from the look of his uniform, spoke up, 'Are we staying with you?'

  The first captain nodded. 'Thane Kennelm expects the rebels will try to get this lot back. So we're to stay together and Neil's patrol will take the remaining three to Denas.' The Captain turned to the soldier he had first addressed. 'So get those ones,' he pointed to Reya, Ana, and Kiril, 'on horses with Neil's men.'

  The Captain's directions disturbed Sentary. Why were they splitting them up? He threw a glance at the three being sent to Denas, catching Reya's gaze. He wished he could tell her not to worry, but he did not know that he could. When soldiers split up groups of slaves, it was never for a good reason.

  Sentary cursed himself silently. After all the bravado he had shown Janeth. After all the reassurances he had given to Riqu. And there was Sariah… She had found a mage to come and help her get him free. He had failed them all.

  Day 3 – Morning

  At-hara Desert

  The oasis was not natural. Brynn had created it turns ago when learning how to combine his talents. The effort had not all been sheer talent though, for he had needed to learn about ecosystems, foundations, water tables, and even a little construction to build the desert garden and set it up so it could thrive without attention.

  The trees were all hardy and used to an arid environment. A ground covering of shrubs and native grasses protected the tree's root-system. He had also added several desert flowers, more for Belon's sake. The garden was structured in sets of tiered curves, arranged in such a manner as to make the garden seem larger than what it was. The spring was split into two pools, with a sluice system, so they could portion off water for bathing without tainting the main pools.

  The project had not been so large as to include constructed shelters or a healing station, but he had built a large, sealed storage area and stocked it with medical supplies and preserved foods as well as extra water skins and similar gear. This place was only meant as an emergency refuge, the longer-term refuges were further in, discouraging pursuit. When he and Baschia had parted ways so she could create the false trail to lead off Nathan, Brynn had suggested they meet up here at the end of their respective tasks and journey back to Caradon together. Baschia had said she would be accompanied by may-en-ghi who were native to the desert to lead them along a short cut to Caradon, but the may-en-ghi were not here yet, as they had been delayed by a sandstorm. Brynn was not troubled by this news, Fate was just gifting them with more time to rest, a reward they had earned.

  He had set Daniel up on a padded mat with an inbuilt cooling system and administered a catheter in order to intravenously restore his fluids. Jador had the other cooling mat. He and Sariah were content to do without. Living so close to the desert had acclimatised Brynn, but he was still careful to keep his skin covered or shaded. The heat was a minor discomfort, but sunburn was to be avoided as much as possible.

  He stood and stretched, groaning as stiff muscles protested. Catching sight of Sershja, he grinned, the horse was now a mottled mix of brown, grey and white patches.

  'How would you like a bath, Sershja?' he asked lightly.

  'Does it mean I'll be rid of this irritating dye?' the horse replied grumpily.

  'I guarantee it,' Brynn confirmed as he re-adjusted the scarf protecting his head and ears. A hat would have been more convenient, but he had not thought to pack one. Brynn opened the sluice gate, filling the bathing pool, which would cover Sershja to his shoulders if he got down on his belly. Originally, he had put it in because he had taken Sershja with him and the horse had complained that he was hot and he had nowhere to swim. The bathing pool was not large enough for the horse to swim in, but it did give him a way to cool down.

  Once the bathing pool was full, Sershja lumbered over and immersed himself, causing Brynn to chuckle. 'Getting to you, was it?' he said, feeling sorry for the horse; it was hard for him to scratch.

  Brynn found his brush and some soap Belon insisted he store. At the time, Brynn could not imagine actually needing it... Again, Belon had proved her wisdom. It was not that he doubted the depth of her care for him, Belon often spoke to him with affection. But at times it seemed impossible to live up to her standards, particularly when he was training. It also made being wrong much harder to bear.

  'Dunk your head, too, and then stand up,' he instructed.

  Reluctantly, Sershja did as directed, dipping his head totally under the water and bringing it up with a splash and a snort as he rose. Gently, Brynn scrubbed Sershja's muzzle and face before he bounced up onto his back and worked on mane and neck. He was careful to avoid getting soap in Sershja's eyes, nostrils or mouth. Sariah and Jador chuckled at Sershja's expression, the horse clearly did not feel as enthusiastic about his impromptu bath as Brynn did. When he finally rinsed him off, Sershja was back to his white and grey self. The horse shook himself and ambled out of the pool. 'Do
not dare roll in the dirt, or I will wash you again,' Brynn warned.

  Jador stared at the newly-washed horse and his mouth fell open in bewilderment.

  'He... He...' Jador stuttered.

  'Is the mysterious elvan your thane had you chasing about the countryside,' Sariah finished.

  Jador had related how he came to be in the desert rescuing his nephew.

  Jador nodded. 'The elvan on the Saviour's horse! They thought you were his servant trying to draw the patrols off. How is it they are no longer on your trail?'

  'Oh, well,' Brynn replied, ' that's because they were following my may-en-ghi companions.'

  'May-en-ghi? As in the mythical dragon-panther?'

  Brynn and Sariah nodded.

  Jador spent a moment taking this in. Both elvan seemed perfectly serious. The elder tracker's wrinkled face creased further with his puzzlement. 'You were never there?'

  Brynn shook his head in response.

  'These may-en-ghi did it all?'

  Brynn grinned. 'Yes.'

  'Why… How amazing! Even I was fooled into believing you were with an ani-uh— may-en-ghi. How did it take the purses and knives?'

  'They have their ways.' Brynn smiled at Jador's disbelief. Moving to his gear, he took up the wrapped sword. 'I am going over that hill,' he said, nodding to indicate the direction, 'to meditate.'

  Jador barely noted Brynn's departure, as he considered the ramifications of his own role in this clever plan. It was astonishing to think that he had set Nathan on the false trail. The very servant of the Saviour Nathan wanted so badly was right here! This meant... It meant the Saviour was real. Didn't it? And what about the may-en-ghi? He recalled the size of the footprints, just how big were they?

  Brynn knelt before the sword, still wrapped in the blanket. Hand-woven with an intricate tattoo-like design, Brynn thought he could study the covering for hours. It was tempting, but he knew he would just be procrastinating. It was time...

  The sword rose at Brynn's will and the blanket unwrapped itself revealing an imposing gold hilt followed by a striking tan leather scabbard with gold accents inlaid along its length. One third of the amber amulet Toormeena had given him part of was set in the pommel, glittering with a light of its own. To say third was to imply three equal parts but that was not so. Brynn's third and the piece in the sword would have appeared to be the entirety of the amulet, with the exception of a sliver. Missing? He had thought so. But no, it was not missing, just not in his possession.

  The hand-guard was made up of four scythe-like arms, two arcing upwards, away from the blade and alongside the hilt, and two sweeping out and then down, curving in towards the blade. A second stone, this one white and of diamond shape, was set at the juncture of the hilt and hand-guard. The blade alone was just over a meter in length.

  Still using his talent, Brynn removed the scabbard and examined the blade. There was an intricate script inscribed upon the blade and the scythe-like arms of the guard. He recognised several words; guardian, death, and references to a chosen. Brynn frowned, not sure of their meaning. He guessed understanding would come once he learned the talent that had been imbued into the weapon.

  The sword would not really have a 'will' of its own, as warriors like Sariah feared. However, a mage could use a thread of their spirit to bind talent into an object, and, like an echo, the mage's spirit would linger, keeping the talent bound to the object, but also making it seem like it had its own will.

  Brynn manoeuvred the sword so that the hilt lay in his lap with the side of the pommel that the amulet had been cut from facing upwards. Withdrawing the amulet from about his neck, he cut the cord securing it with his knife. He took a deep breath and then apprehensively placed his piece upon its kin. He watched as the pieces of gemstone melded perfectly.

  Moving to his ghanri, he sealed himself off using a barrier designed by the may-en-ghi to completely enclose a spirit, and thus shielding it from any planes-bound spirits. These barriers took a significant amount of energy to maintain and could only be used for short periods of time. The absolute peace in his mind created by the shields was close to euphoric.

  There was a disadvantage to having talent — the noise. If you were not trained in using effective blocks, the sounds of all those thoughts and vibrations gave little room to think. Fortunately, elvan infants inherited the barriers of their parents and could adapt them to their own needs. Although there were many cases where these barriers were not enough and needed the intervention of a mage.

  Brynn inhaled slowly and deeply for several minutes, allowing his heartbeat and body to settle into a gentle, restful rhythm. Then between one breath and the next, he gripped the sword and sought out the talent bound into it.

  Abruptly, he was on a plane crafted by the sword's creator and then drawn along a path created within the plane. For an instant, he resisted, for the talent had taken over his will, which would leave him utterly vulnerable, and all his instincts railed against that. Brynn reminded himself that Toormeena had led him to this sword and she would not endanger him. Quelling all resistance, he relinquished control.

  What he discovered was terrifying. The sword was not just able to be used like any other sword, but was able to collect that with which it had been imbued — spirit energy. For those struck by this blade there was no beyond, no ascendance to higher planes or forms. The blade was able to consume the souls of its opponents, and it could distinguish through Brynn who was a friend and who was foe. Even now he could sense the sword's drive. It not only wanted his foes, it wanted one particular foe. A foe from whom the blade had already tasted in part, but somehow, not been able to fully devour. It was quite disturbing, how the blade seemed to have a personality and ambition all its own. It was almost an intelligence of a kind, which was quite unlike what Linuk had taught him.

  This was his introduction to Soul's Death, Eirra-ghi, for in comparison to everything after it, death was the least of the damage this sword could deliver.

  Day 3 – Afternoon

  At-hara Desert

  Sariah and Kaydyr watched Brynn silently. She had found a shady spot at a distance she judged was not intrusive but allowed her to openly observe him. The warrior sat cross-legged with Kaydyr on her shoulder. She was worried his tainted sword might end up doing something the young mage could not handle. Not that she could do a lot about it if it did. Her plan was to send to Riqu. But so far, Brynn seemed fine. He had taken the sword to the far side of the oasis and even though he sat in the shade he still wore the cream scarf over his head. Strands of ebony and silver hair had escaped, and the silver flashed in the sun. At first, she had the impression he was definitely doing something with talent, there had been a… Sariah was not sure how to describe it, but she had seen enough mages using their talent to know the feel and the look of it. Because there was a 'feeling' to it, a kind of tangible atmospheric change. But now Brynn seemed to be simply meditating. Riqu adopted that same slow, deep breathing rhythm when he was meditating, and the calm stillness of Brynn's expression echoed her father's.

  When she had asked Riqu what he meditated on, he said that often he did not meditate on a particular subject. He explained he was actually clearing his mind so when he came out of meditation, he could deal with the problems before him with a fresh view. Mayhap that was what Brynn was doing. He had mentioned he needed time to think.

  Brynn rose after a short while, and, after removing the scarf and tying his hair back, retrieved the sword. Initially, he swung the blade experimentally, first with one hand, and then the other, as if testing the weight and feel of the sword. Then he began a series of exercises, moving smoothly through each routine.

  'Would you practice with me?'

  The voice brought both her and Kaydyr out of their reverie and she looked into smiling blue eyes. They must have drifted off without realising it.

  'I need to get used to the feel of the sword, mayhap you would like a training session yourself?' Brynn suggested.

  Sariah nodded. 'Y
es. A bit of practice would do me a realm of good.'

  Brynn followed her back over to the camp and looked for a fairly flat surface. He smiled at the sight of Jador and Daniel; Jador had fallen asleep, leaning on the tree next to Daniel.

  Sariah stretched for a few minutes, before approaching Brynn, signalling she was ready.

  'If it is agreeable to you,' Brynn said, 'I will place talented shields over us to protect us against accidents.'

  'Since we are not familiar with practicing together, that is a sensible idea considering swords like ours are not always stopped by armour,' Sariah agreed. 'I think we should also use formal training routines, as we are not familiar practicing partners.'

  Sariah drew one blade and bowed from the waist slightly with her sword out to the side in a curtsy-like movement. 'Let us finish the talking and get to the practice. Place your shields, Brynn,' as she finished speaking, her helm activated.

  Brynn performed the same movement, bowing to Sariah, before initiating the first move.

  Sword tips tapped lightly as they went through their paces. After half an hour, they drew apart.

  'May I?' Brynn asked, gesturing to her sword.

  Sariah indicated an affirmative and passed it over hilt first. She was not offended when he did not offer his, she did not want to hold it. The warrior retracted her armour and used her shirt to wipe the sweat from her face.