Overture

by K R Schultz

  Overture

  Book Two of

  The Songs of Aarda

  by

  K. R. Schultz

  The Songs of Aarda Series

  Prelude

  Overture

  The Heretic’s Song (Prelude and Overture combined)

  (Forthcoming)

  Nocturne

  Rondo

  Crescendo

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  http://krschultzauthor.com

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  © 2019 by K. R. Schultz

  All rights reserved.

  Overture is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locations is entirely coincidental.

  ISBN 10: 81090717894

  ISBN 13: 97881090717894

  Printed in the United States of America

  To those who dream and dare to believe, and to Patricia and those who encouraged me to continue writing, dreaming, and believing.

  To Stevie, Jovie, Aidan, Roan, Nate, and Benjamin. May you find truth and adventure in equal measure throughout your lives.

  Glossary

  Home

  Discovery

  Eideron’s Dream

  Kyonna

  Revelation

  Recovery

  Aeron Suul

  Rumble

  Himish and Leela

  Ehlbringa Weapons

  Simea’s Friends

  Morning Meeting

  Booking Passage

  Options

  Kyonna Begs

  Upward

  Choices

  Dinner Party

  Hemmed In

  Voerkett

  Aelfric and Kett

  Shared Dreams

  Rejection

  Kett’s Prophecy

  Censure

  Herron’s Secret

  Secret Meeting

  Aelfric’s Quandary

  Eideron’s Plan

  Aibby’s Stalker

  Departure

  Return to Sethria

  Wasteland Night

  Shifting

  Vanished

  Return

  Rescue

  The Book of Songs

  Prayer-Songs

  Dark Canyon

  Captured

  Welcome to Sethria

  New Offer

  Torture

  Bad News

  The Cave

  Kett’s Reveal

  Doubts

  Shared Dream

  Unexpected

  Return to Forge

  Recovery

  The Saga Continues

  Nocturne

  Mato

  Glossary

  The Characters

  Aamori: see the song “Aamori’s House”

  Aelfric: Laakea’s father

  Aelrin: King of the Eniila, Aelfric’s twin brother

  Aert: innkeeper at the Dancing Dog in Dun Dale

  Ak’eldemea: Eniila god of metalcraft

  Aibhera/Aibby: Sokai girl

  Amoreya: Speaker of the Sokai Synod

  Ashd’eravaak: the Abrhaani’s god

  Baeddan: Narragan’s herald

  Bajan Lanier: Rehaak’s fellow scholar

  Bram: miller’s eight-year-old son

  Breisha: Aert the innkeeper’s youngest daughter

  Digon: Golden Crown innkeeper

  Dreynar Asan: Voerkett’s second in command

  Eideron: Sokai elder

  Eskel: a Council of Barons member

  Eyhan: Isil’s son

  Gael: the miller

  Gil/Gillam: miller’s eleven-year-old son

  Herron: Sokai rising star

  Himish: Sokai elder

  Harmish: Abrhaani sea captain

  Isilakari/Isil/Lucky: mithun drover, Rehaak’s friend

  Jesh’zed’haak: Eniila god of war

  Keria: Rehaak’s sister

  Kett: Abrhaani businessman

  Kyonna/Ky: Aibhera’s younger sister, Windrider

  Laakea: thirteen-year-old Eniila youth

  Latonia: Raamya’s wife

  Leda: barmaid at the Golden Crown Inn

  Leoned: Aibhera and Kyonna’s stepfather

  Lord Arven: a member of the Council of Barons

  Mato: Raamya’s fourteen-year-old youngest son

  Nailah: Sokai healer, Simea’s friend

  Naom’han: author of The Aetheriad, Aethera scribe

  Pippali/Pip: Sokai youth Simea’s friend

  Ogun: Raamya’s sixteen-year-old middle son

  Radik: Raamya’s nineteen-year-old eldest son

  Raith: chandler in North Narragan

  Raamya: the sawyer

  Radomir: an Abrhaani historian

  Rehaak Eskolar/Spot: scholar, healer (and heretic)

  Riata: the miller’s wife

  Riessa: Aibhera and Kyonna’s mother

  Rais: Sokai youth, Kyonna’s friend (fellow Windrider)

  Rogan: The Gilded Swan innkeeper

  S’ek’zekaar: god of death

  S’enkashaar: god of storms

  Sahki Lorg: confectioner in Dun Dale

  Sa’khalin, G’haelarin, Sh’imbalaan: Rehaak’s Aethera guardians

  Selvyn: the last Eniila to work with ehlbringa

  Shel’gharim: Aethera in charge of the Sokai

  Shelhera: Laakea’s mother

  Simea/Sim: Sokai youth

  Steen: miller’s five-year-old child

  Tano: Rehaak’s older brother

  Uele: miller’s four-year-old daughter

  Voerkett Telmakus: Isil’s husband

  The Odium: a secret society of assassins

  Peoples

  Abrhaani/Greens: a green-skinned, nature-worshipping species

  Aethera: powerful spirit-beings of the Aetherial plane

  Eniila/Whites: a large, pale-skinned, warlike species

  Nethera: corrupted spirits/fallen Aethera

  Sokai: a vanished species

  Places

  Aetherial Plane: a plane of existence of pure energy

  Aeron Suul: port on Khel Braah’s south coast

  Arkad: the great hall of the Eniila afterlife

  Baradon: the Eniila homeland (continent)

  Berossus: city abandoned by the Sokai millennia ago

  Camikola: a coastal city in Baradon

  Chavanel: a volcanic crater east of Lake Korath

  Cherith Pass: the only pass through The Spine

  Dun Dale: logging village in south Khel Braah

  Home

  Everyone needs a home, a place where they are valued and protected. Some are born into it. Home surrounds those lucky few from the moment of birth like the air they breathe. They inhale support and approval, unaware of the blessing they have received and heedless of its worth unless that gift is suddenly lost.

  Others wander lonely roads, desiccated by the winds of chance, stripped to the bone by adversity, and yet they never find a place to belong. Their souls shrivel as they breathe the poisonous dust of disappointment. Bitterness stings their eyes like sand and blinds them. They blunder past places of refuge. They forever seek their home but never reach it.

  Still others wander those roads reaching a home only after a prolonged search. They arrive bruised and broken, their vision sharpened by adversity, forever grateful for the precious gifts of family and home.

  Reflections on Traveling by Amur Auriga-Plafox

  CHAPTER ONE

  Discovery

  Isil and Rehaak awakened to the sound of rain dripping from the thatched roof of Laakea’s home. While Rehaak gathered kindling, lit a fire in the h
earth and made breakfast, Isil straightened her bed and then swept the flagstone floor. Isil poked her head into Laakea’s room, meaning to wake him. “Wake up sleepyhead.” Puzzlement replaced the smile when she spotted the rumpled blankets strewn across the empty bed. They were the only evidence he had slept there.

  “Laakea must’a gone to light the forge mighty early this mornin’. I’ll holler at him if breakfast be ready,” Isil said.

  “Yes, please do. By the time Laakea washes up, breakfast will be on the table.”

  Isil swung open the door and shouted into the downpour, “Laakea, breakfast be ready. Come wash up so’s we can eat.” Rain splashed on the wet earth outside, and dishes clattered inside the house behind her. She shouted louder, “Laakea, stop what you’re doin’. Breakfast be ready. It ain’t like you to miss a meal.” After her second attempt to hail Laakea got no response from the workshop, she said to Rehaak, “I’ll just go fetch him and tell him. He likely couldn’t hear me over the sound of the storm.”

  Isil grabbed her coat, draped it over her shoulders, and dashed toward the smithy in a vain attempt to stay dry, but the frigid droplets soaked her hair, ran down the back of her neck, and left her shivering after the first few steps. Clouds shrouded the clearing in gloom, and her feet squelched and slipped on the muddy earth as she sped across the space between the house and the smithy. Once inside the building, she wiped the raindrops from her eyes. There was no fire in the hearth, and deep shadow filled the building’s interior. The structure appeared deserted. “Laakea, where in all the hells did you go, lad?”

  Isil was about to leave the smithy, but when her eyes adjusted to the gloom, she spotted Laakea’s naked body between the anvil and the hearth. She shrieked, sprang across the distance, and knelt beside the boy. She bent to touch Laakea’s brow, yelped in pain, and jerked her scalded hand away. Water dripping from her hair steamed when it touched his skin and hung in the chill air like smoke above his body. She slipped off her coat, turned it backward, knelt beside Laakea, and slid her hands into the arms so she could comfort him. Despite the layers of cloth between them, sweat beaded on her forehead. “Rehaak, come quick!” Isil shrieked as she knelt on the earthen floor, supporting Laakea.

  Within moments, Rehaak skidded to a halt in the smithy’s doorway. “What’s wrong? Where’s—?” His eyes dropped, finding Isil kneeling near Laakea’s body. “The boy is steaming like a kettle. What happened to him?”

  “No idea. I found him like this. He’s burnin’ up. Let’s get him into the house where we can doctor him. You must have herbs to cure a fever.”

  “I do, but this is no ordinary fever.” Rehaak knelt beside them and held his hand above Laakea’s brow. “The youngster’s skin is searing hot. I dare not touch him without gloves.” He motioned for Isil to rise.” An Abrhaani could never survive a temperature that high. Fetch a blanket so we can carry him.” Rehaak stood watching over Laakea as he waited for Isil’s return. The boy’s body, as he lay on the packed earth floor of the forge-house, still steamed like hot porridge on a wintry morning.

  The moment Isil returned with the blanket, Rehaak rolled Laakea onto it, protecting his hands, then wrapped him in it. He grabbed Laakea under the arms while Isil fished gloves out of her coat pockets, donned them, and grasped his ankles. Together, they hauled Laakea out into the rain. “He’s heavier than I remember from the last time I dragged him through the rain,” Rehaak said.

  Isil kept a firm grip on Laakea’s ankles. Her gloves made the heat tolerable. They carried him toward the house while the rain misted and evaporated off his face as fast as it landed. Isil and Rehaak struggled to keep their footing while avoiding becoming entangled in the floppy blanket, which dragged in the muddy pathway. “Do you s’pose we ought to stow him outside to cool him down?”

  “You are right, Isil. I think Laakea’s skin has cooled from the rain while we carried him. Fetch another blanket, and I will stay out here with him. If the fever subsides, we will bring him in and lay him on his bed.”

  Rehaak leaned back against the wall cradling Laakea against his chest while he waited for Isil to return. If Laakea dies, it is my fault. Once he is gone, I will leave before Isil falls victim to my foolishness and the curse that seems to follow me. I don’t know what caused this or what to do about it, but I won’t let it be said Laakea perished because I didn’t provide adequate care.

  Once they reached the house, Rehaak plopped on the bench beside the door and propped Laakea beside him. “This is all my fault, Isil. I should never have allowed this child to stay with me. I should have taken him to Twinbridge or sent him somewhere far away from me. I am toxic.”

  “That be utter nonsense.” Isil slung a blanket over Rehaak’s shoulders as he cradled Laakea in his arms. “Let me bring you somewhat to eat afore you catches a fever yourself.”

  “The pain in my gut is more guilt than hunger.”

  About midday, Laakea’s temperature had dropped, so Rehaak and Isil brought him inside and laid him on his bed. As they covered him with the rain-soaked blanket to further cool him, Rehaak’s brow furrowed. “It’s my fault, Isil. If Laakea had not met me, I would not have drawn him into my quest, and he would not lay there near death,” He stooped over Laakea and tugged the sodden blanket around the boy’s chin. “It is dangerous for anyone to stay near me. I am a threat to you too. You and Laakea would be safer if you never met me. I am cursed.”

  “Stop talkin’ nonsense. You rescued the boy from an icy death in the rain, and from what Laakea says, you gave him a place to hide out from his pa. More’n that you gave him a place to belong. We’s both lucky to have met you. I can’t speak for Laakea, but I’s been searchin’ for you ever since I heard ’bout you back in Narragan.”

  Rehaak straightened up and gaped in wide-eyed astonishment. “You knew of me in Narragan?”

  “When you prayed over that first meal we ate together, I figured out you was the fella what got exiled for heresy. I went a-lookin’ for you, but you skedaddled afore I got to The Gilded Swan. When I met you in the grassland, I had my suspicions, but until you prayed to the Creator, I weren’t sure.”

  Rehaak raised his open palms to his sides. “You never mentioned it. Why not?”

  “Never thought it were important till now.” She pointed her bony forefinger at him. “You needs to understand…there be a purpose to our meetin.”

  “I felt guilty about keeping my secret. If you knew about my message of the Nethera invasion, why didn’t you say something?”

  “I figured it weren’t my business to pry it out o’ you. You would tell me at the right time. The Creator brung us together, and He is the one what guides us. We doesn’t see His plan, but he works through us and even in spite o’ us. Even when we makes stupid mistakes, He is wise, and He is powerful enough to change things.

  “We belongs together. The Ecclesiarches turfed you out o’ Narragan because o’ your message. Laakea had to run away from home because he thunk his pa wanted to kill him. You left your family behind to follow the Faithful One, Laakea lost his ma and his pa, and I lost my folks too. We were all exiles, but together we’re a family, a family created by the one what created everythin’. We have to stay together and have faith. You told me you prayed for another chance just afore Laakea stumbled into your life. Don’t that mean nothin’ to you? Don’t it tell you we needs each other?”

  “I want to believe that, but whenever I do, tragedy strikes, and people around me get hurt.” Rehaak pointed at Laakea lying on the bed. “That’s man-child is merely the latest example.” Rehaak scowled and bit his lower lip. “There’s no more we can do for Laakea now. We should eat, keep up our strength.”

  Isil’s jaw clenched, and her eyes filled with steely determination. “We can’t stop just ’cause things gets hard. Our mission be too important. Trust me, Laakea will recover, and we’ll all be fine,”

  CHAPTER TWO

  Eideron’s Dream

  Eideron awoke, uneasy, bothered by his dreams. Nightly vision
s had troubled his sleep for weeks now, but once he awoke, he never remembered the details. Still, the omens bothered him. Eideron wished he understood what they meant or at least recalled the warnings they contained. He rose as usual and prepared for his day at the Synod Council.

  Eideron’s halo of curly white hair framed the weathered ocher skin of his wrinkled face. He stretched to ease the pain in his arthritic joints and ran his fingers through his hair. Trapped between darkness and dawn with a sour taste in his mouth, he washed the sleep from his eyes, rinsed his mouth with water, and spat it in the bathroom sink. The sink, like his dwelling, was carved from the stone walls of the caldera where the Sokai lived.

  The burden of leadership lay heavy on his weary old shoulders this morning. How could he lead the Sokai when he, a senior leader, could not discern the path? Eideron supposed that he represented, in miniature, the rest of his beloved people. Thoughts spun in his head like dust caught in the desert winds outside their protected sanctuary.

  The Sokai feared the violent madness of the Abrhaani, and the Eniila would taint them. They fled to Abalon centuries ago, to live protected and isolated from the rest of humankind. During their long years of isolation, they succumbed to their own peculiar form of madness. The Synod met daily and engaged in endless debates, and the discussions always centered on which activities and actions comprised purity and sanctity. Eideron hated the internal conflict but couldn’t escape the endless rounds of nitpicking and navel-gazing. That interminable strife led nowhere, except to prevent new insights. The Sokai had become fearful of change; they believed any divergence from the status quo threatened their way of life.

  We should abandon this valley, but I doubt I ever will. It has become a prison. Abalon is my birthplace, and it will be my tomb. My wife’s grave is here, and her bones lie in the crypt atop thirty generations of our forebears. I am too old to cross the barren desert and seek the Abrhaani and Eniila. If I was younger—

  He broke from his thoughts and instead spoke aloud as if addressing the council. “We have become like insects trapped in amber. Perfectly preserved and permanently incapacitated by the instrument of our preservation.” Eideron smiled. I like the analogy, and I will use it in the Synod Council if the opportunity arises.