by Philip Blood
"Hold!" Gandarel yelled, and even Yearl and Tocor stopped moving for a moment. "I am commanding that the city be sealed; no one shall leave, not even you, Mara. I will see that you are protected, so you don't need to fear."
Aerin, Lor, and Dono dropped to the ground from the rooftops at that moment. Gandarel took them in with a glance, but couldn't spare the time for anything more.
Gandarel continued, "However, I also state that I will NOT be leaving my post during this time of crisis, not for anyone. We have a defense to mount and we best get on with it. Any interference with these commands, by anyone, WILL be considered treason against the state. Am I clear?"
Mara glowered at Gandarel for a moment, but she did not signal to Tocor or Yearl. Then she spoke in one more effort to convince Gandarel, "Darel, listen to me, this could mean the difference in winning and losing the entire war! This cannot be allowed; you must leave..."
"I have stated my intent and will brook no more arguments! I will not abandon my post, not for Prophecy, and not from fear of my duty. Mara, do not make me arrest you, please?"
Mara's head bowed, as she fought for control of her emotions.
Gandarel took this as a sign of defeat. He turned and headed from the courtyard, his Guardsmen and council members following.
Hork and his priests were the last to go; the priest sent a glance of pure hatred at Mara and the Willowman. He took a step forward toward Yearl but stopped when Tocor pulled down his hood exposing his bald head and golden eyes for Hork to see. At this sight, the High Priest's eyes nearly bugged out of his head.
Tocor peeled off one of the black leather gloves he always wore, exposing the four tentacles that grew from his wrist, where a human hand would normally have been. He pointed at the priests with one of them while the others writhed around, seeming independently alive. Tocor's deep voice rolled out into the air, “Do not approach my friend with your hatred, priest, it is offensive."
Hork fell to the ground in his haste to back away from the suddenly revealed Quarian in their midst. Incantations of protection tumbled from his lips as he found himself in the company, of what he believed, was a demon. He scrambled to his feet, the dirt smudging the white robe of his office. All his battle priests now had weapons drawn as they backed out of the courtyard, protecting their High Priest from what they saw as the evil one's minion.
When they were gone, and Katek had closed the gate, Mara wearily sagged onto her cane. "That could have gone better," she noted in obvious understatement. "Somewhere the Dreadmaster is laughing, for we fell sway to his powers today, and lost a battle for which I have been preparing for more years than you can imagine."
Aerin approached his sad looking teacher, "We're going to lose to the Togroths?"
Mara looked at Aerin, and pulled the young boy against her side, "No, not yet, anyway, but we lost something more important than this siege."
"What have we lost?” he asked.
Mara's gaze was far away, but an answer came in a whisper from her lips that Aerin just caught, "We have lost our way; we have entered the Dark Prophecies."
Chapter Ten
"I saw the heir to Ragol's power taken by the betrayer into the enemy's camp, and the world was cast into a darkness not seen since the coming of the first Dreadmaster."
- From the Dark Prophecies
Early the following morning, during the false dawn before the sun had actually crested over the eastern horizon, Aerin, Lor and Dono climbed high atop a city roof to watch the ocean of Togroths approaching the sealed city. Their numbers were too many to count and covered the land as far as they could see, like a tide of metal. Some still carried lit torches that had been used to move through the night, as well as to burn farms and homesteads outside the city. Fires could be seen glowing in the distance where Togroths had ravaged the land. The torchlight glinted off flat spearheads, helms, shields, and armor.
The friends sat in silence, each pondering their own thoughts at the approach of the fell army. It was the first time either Dono or Lor had faced their mortality. There was no doubt in any of their minds; they could not win against such a hoard.
"Gedin, there are a lot of them," Lor finally muttered, breaking the silence.
Aerin remembered the stories he had read of the Togroth armies of old, their descriptions had been much like what he was seeing, but then it had just been a story, now they were real and coming for his blood.
Aerin spoke in a subdued voice. "Mara has often said that the Final War was a joke, at last, I understand what she meant. We never defeated the Dreadmaster, we only made him wait. He has once again come to take what he wants."
"How can the Guardsmen stop them? They are outnumbered fifty-to-one, a hundred-to-one, it might even be worse," Dono noted glumly.
"The walls will stop them," Lor noted, though her voice was uncertain.
Aerin sat upright, "The sewers, they came in through the sewers when we saw them in that church, do you think that was a test?"
Lor and Dono were also up now, and Lor said, "Yes, we need to warn the Guard!"
The three friends headed over the rooftops at a run, as they headed for the familiar large stone structure of the Seat. Worried about the first Togroths arriving at the tunnels before they could sound the alarm, Lor took a chancy route that she seldom considered, and never before with Aerin. There was one jump that required a perfectly executed, headfirst leap to a horizontal flagpole, which she used to swing herself up and onto a ledge. It was a very dangerous jump.
Lor called back to Aerin, "There is a tough move up ahead, don't try it if you are afraid."
"I'm fine," Aerin called back.
Lor accelerated to get slightly ahead of her two followers, so they could watch her leap. That would give them time to see how to make the jump, or stop if they weren't sure.
She saw the spot up ahead and gauged her speed. Her leap took her head first out over the fifty-foot drop to the street below. Her hands struck the pole and she let her momentum swing her body around in an arc underneath. As her body snapped through the bottom of the arc she released the pole and bent at the waist into a pike position before straightening out and landing lightly on the ledge.
Immediately Lor looked back to see how her friends fared. Aerin was already in the air. Lor realized he must have leaped while she was still flying. Aerin hit the bar a little strong, but close enough to make the grab and start the swing underneath. The pole bent slightly more with his greater weight, and he released a little early. He came in low and Lor grabbed his arm and the back of his jerkin to help pull him all the way onto the ledge.
"Thanks!" Aerin said with his face flushed red.
Lor smiled, "Don't mention it."
Dono landed lightly beside them, though he too was flushed from the danger of that jump. "Let's not do that one on a regular basis, OK?"
Lor nodded, "I usually save that one for life and death chases, or when I'm bored," she added with a wink, and then headed off at a run toward the nearby gate into the Seat.
They descended rapidly and arrived at the large gate a few minutes later.
Aerin acted as spokesman to the Guardsman at the gate.
"We need to speak with Gandarel Trelic, it is of utmost urgency to the defense of the city," Aerin explained.
The Guardsman frowned at the three young people, "He's much too busy for the likes of you three street urchins. Be on your way!"
Dono bristled, "I'll have you know we saved Gandarel's life! It was Aerin and Lor who sounded the alarm when the Togroths would have slain you and your pals in your cots!"
The Guardsman scowled at Dono, "And I'm the Dreadmaster's mother."
"Listen, if you don't tell them..." Lor began, but the Guardsman interrupted.
"You'll what?” he growled, "Cry?"
Lor stepped toward the man and then suddenly extended the movement into a spin that brought her boney elbow into his gut. His breath came out in a whoosh. Lor snagged the hilt of his sheathed sword, and as she dance
d away she pulled out the sword and took it with her. She stopped a few feet away and planted the sword, point first, between two cobblestones, so that it stood up in the street.
"I'll break your legs for that, you little shit," the Guardsman said when his breath came back.
Lor stepped in front of the blade.
The Guardsman took a swing at her and she used a low spin kick to cut his legs out from under him. He fell to the street with a groan.
Another Guardsman stepped out and pulled his sword. When he saw just three youngsters, holding no weapons, and not challenging him in any way he paused. From inside the gate, another voice called out, "What's the ruckus out there?"
The Guardsman, with the sword in his hand, called back, "Just a young..." he looked hard at Lor and noted the cinched jerking that outlined her modest chest. "…lady out here kicking the crap out of Jonnsen."
"This I gotta see," the voice said, and a Guardsmen corporal stepped out. Jonnsen was just getting off the cobblestones with a grimace of pain.
"Is that slip of a wench kicking your behind?” the corporal said with a laugh.
"I want her arrested; she assaulted a Guardsman and stole my sword!” he gasped.
Lor pointed at the sword stuck between the stones, "I don't have his sword, it is right there."
"So it is," the Corporal noted. "Best tell me what this is all about."
When Aerin finished his account the Corporal had them enter the gate and then ordered them held under watch while he reported up the chain of command.
It was about ten minutes before Gandarel showed up, with councilmen Enolive at his heels. "What is this I hear about you attacking Guardsmen?" Gandarel asked with a frown.
"We weren't, we were just getting him to take us seriously. We have important information you need!" Lor stated.
"All right, what is it?" Gandarel prompted.
Aerin started to explain about the sewers, but Gandarel interrupted.
"We know about that, remember the attack on the Seat? All sewer entrances that come into the city were sealed. That was done months ago, and just in case, there are also watchmen down at each one during this emergency. Is there anything else?"
His three friends looked ashamed that their news was not news at all, but Aerin finally spoke, "What's happening, Gandarel? I caught the end of that scene yesterday..."
"I'm done practicing, that's what. I have to face up to my responsibilities. Assuming we get out of this mess alive, I am old enough to go and accept my heritage. We're not children anymore, Aerin. It's time we put aside our play on the roofs and our practice with teachers."
"We won't be seeing you anymore?" Dono asked.
"I didn't say that I just won't be coming to practices at Mara's anymore. I am beyond her teachings now."
The councilman behind him nodded in encouragement.
Gandarel continued, "But you are my friends and you can come to see me when I have time. I'll see that this scene does not repeat itself in the future, but until this crisis is done, perhaps it is best if you do spend your time protecting Mara. I do care about her, still," he added as if that was in doubt.
"All right, if that is the way it needs to be," Aerin agreed.
"It is, but for now, I have to get back. We're making a battle plan to protect the city. Keep your eyes peeled and if you see something... from high up, don't hesitate to stop by and let the Guardsmen know. They'll listen to you, next time," he stated, casting a frown at the chagrinned looking Jonnsen.
Aerin decided to stop by the Villa to see if Mara had emerged from her room yet. Dono and Lor headed back to check on the Togroth army. When Aerin arrived he found the courtyard empty. Since the confrontation with the council the day before, Mara had disappeared into her rooms. Aerin considered going up to see her; he was concerned about Mara's mental state. He remembered the past times she had become moody and withdrawn, and they were nothing compared the depression he had glimpsed yesterday.
He nearly jumped out of his skin when Yearl touched his elbow and said, "Mara has been asking for you."
"How do you DO that?” he demanded when he had swallowed his heart.
Yearl shrugged, "I don't do anything, people just aren't interested enough to notice me."
Aerin looked at him skeptically. "Is this something Willowmen do, or is it just you?"
"People find us all uninteresting, I'm just particularly uninteresting. It's a gift," he acknowledged.
Aerin shook his head as if that would clear up the confusion he felt; sometimes he thought that having the answer was more confusing than the unanswered question.
Yearl nodded toward the stairs, "I don't think you should keep Mara waiting, she's in a bad mood."
Aerin looked at her closed door with a little consternation.
"She won't bite," added the Willowman, "well, she won't bite hard."
Aerin climbed the stairs slowly, but eventually he stood before the door and had to knock.
"Come in here, Aerin," Mara's voice called instantly.
Aerin sighed, he thought about asking her how she knew who it was, but he figured that he would probably just be more confused by the answer. He opened the door not knowing what to expect.
Mara was dressed as normal, wearing her long sleeved blouse, brown skirts, and shawl. Her long hair was up in a hastily arranged bun, though a few strands had escaped here and there. Papers covered her bed and her desk, old ones, of the kind he had seen in her room before when he had read the line from the old prophecy. As he looked at these papers he revised his estimate, these looked even older, and the writing was less flowing, harder to read. He tore his eyes away as he realized he was about to start reading them, and he didn't want Mara angry with him again.
He noted a worn wooden box, of about the right size to house the old papers, sitting at the back of the desk; he had never seen it before.
Mara looked up from the page she had been reading, and Aerin noticed the dark circles under her eyes. Aerin figured that she must have been reading all through the night. He wondered if she wanted to discuss what she had read.
"I bet you are wondering why I have asked you up here," Mara began.
Aerin hoped she wasn't reading his mind or something.
"No, I'm not reading your mind, it's an obvious question. I want to know what is going on with Gandarel. You have been to see him?"
It was almost more of a statement than a question, but Aerin answered, "Yes, a few minutes ago."
"Good; and what transpired?"
Aerin recounted the meeting and Mara did not interrupt. When he was through she closed her eyes and was silent.
Aerin waited and started to wonder if Mara had fallen asleep. He was just about to say something when she jumped to her feet. Her sudden move startled him. Mara began pacing around the room.
"This just won't do!” she exclaimed. "He doesn't realize the danger he is in, the danger the world is in because of his foolish actions."
Aerin was worried by her words, "You mean the Togroths are going to get into the city?"
Mara paused, as if noticing him again, he wondered briefly if this was how Yearl felt when people finally noticed him.
"No, though they will. What I am more concerned with is what fool things he will do to place himself in their hands. You do realize that they have come for him, not the city?"
Aerin realized nothing of the sort, but he let it go, this was far more than Mara usually confided in him, and he didn't want to spoil things.
"If he had just left with us yesterday the Togroths would be leaving by now. By staying here their prize is within their grasp! Here, look at this," she said, snatching up one of the old documents and putting it before his face.
Aerin took the document and read from the top, "And during the siege, the snake in the grass will crawl into the nest of stone, curling itself around the heart of the heir. And during the dark days of terror, the heir will go to the enemy, and his heart will be turned in fear, distrust and falsehood. And, i
f he leaves the city in the company of the enemy, he shall..."
"Give me that," Mara stated, snatching the document from him as if he had picked it up to read on his own. "Aerin, you must convince Gandarel to listen to me."
Aerin swallowed hard; there had been no give in Gandarel when they had last spoken. "Mara, he is going to need time to cool down, time for emotions to calm and reason to return. I don't think I can..."
"We don't have a choice!” she barked.
Aerin snapped his mouth shut at her yell and stood rigid.
A moment passed and Mara's voice was back under control. "I'm sorry I snapped at you, none of this is your fault." She placed a hand on his shoulder and sighed. "This is my fault, if anyone’s, so I should yell at myself. I should have been ready for this; I should not have been so arrogant as to think that I had things on track with the Prophecies of Gold. For so many years I had things going nearly line for line, I didn't even bother to look at the other possibilities, like the Dark Prophecies. Now we have to deal with that reality, and believe me, you don't want to know what I know, Aerin."
"What can I do to help?" Aerin asked.
Mara looked at him, her eyes really focusing on him for the first time since he had entered the room. She hugged him to her with both arms. "If only you had been the heir to the Seat, Aerin, things would be different."
"I'm sorry, Mara."
She took him by the shoulder tops with her hands and move back slightly so she could look into his eyes. "I am not blaming you for being who you are, Aerin. I am blessed that I have found such a true and good friend, I will never be disappointed in you, nor expect you to be anything more than yourself."
Aerin blushed from her praise.
Mara continued, "However, we will have to play with the cards we have been dealt. You and I have much trouble ahead."
"What about Dono, Lor, and Katek?" Aerin asked.
Mara smiled, "Oh, there is plenty of trouble to spread around; they will have theirs as well. But let's talk about Gandarel, and what we can do to blunt the damage. Gandarel MUST not fall into the hands of the enemy. I will do what I can, but you can get close to him, both physically and in his heart. Keep him safe, and keep him from doing something stupid. He will see his duty above all else…"
