The Exodus Sagas: Book IV - Of Moons and Myth

by Jason R Jones

  Siril, where did you go?

  He is always here, when I am most at peace.

  I saw him, I was dancing with him, with these steel blades, like when we were so young.

  No Haddius, that was me, that was fond memory, guided by your brother.

  A trick? No, I saw him. Where are we?

  “Why have they stopped? What is going on?” James whispered, seeing both Haddius and Shinayne standing, facing each other. Their blades were low and at rest, eyes closed, yet they were humming along with Zen’s prayer.

  “Sssshhhh.” Gwenneth and Saberrak both whispered back.

  We are in the Viala Simnorr, in Kilikala, a sacred place to Siril. You have been here before, long ago, yet we are here now in spirit.

  Where is Siril, where is my brother?

  Here, there, everywhere.

  I want to see him again.

  Then go to him.

  I cannot, I am standing in a pond with you Shinayne.

  How can you tell?

  I am wet…I can feel…the water…I feel it on my… legs…

  I know.

  It is not true, it cannot be, this is false, just a trick.

  Shinayne opened her eyes in the underground temple, and looked up the ten feet to the opening eyes of Haddius. She felt to collapse now that the kata was done, never had she moved at that speed. Her eye teared, feeling the longing of Haddius for his brother, Siril. Her heart swam in the desire she felt for Elicras to touch Carice. Then the dwarven hymn stopped as her tear fell, the same moment a tear fell from the God of the Oceans. They had been one, in time with everything, and it carried over to the here and now.

  Haddius dropped the broadsword, caught his tear, and looked to Shinayne. Suddenly he felt impulses pulling him as he awoke from the spiritual dance to the here and now. He felt his mother Seirena, his father Megos, his brothers Annar, Siril, and Vundren. They were pulling him to the waters, they were close and near, yet they were nowhere to be seen.

  “It was a dream, a lovely dream, Shinayne. But as I said, my imprisonment is forever.” Haddius hung his head as reality came into view.

  “Then how is it you cry, God of the Oceans?” Shinayne whispered with a smile and a shake of her head. Her tears fell, she breathed out all the sorrow she had taken in, and raised her blade.

  Clang!

  With a stroke more furious love and heart than ancient elven skill, Shinayne T’Sarrin swung Elicras up into Carice, and the sound of steel meeting steel was as a melody from the stars beyond. The waters above fell as pouring rain over everyone on the dais, showering mortal and immortal alike. The chain of green steel that was fashioned out of its mighty pillar, was pulled as blue light and unearthly flame licked its length.

  Saberrak and James fell over backwards, chain in hand, yet nothing attached at the other end. Flashes of light brighter than their divine collision at Soujan Mountain threw them to the stone. Gwenneth lowered her head and shielded her eyes, Zen stared in awe, and Shinayne fell to her knees, too weak to stand. Water flew through the air, every direction, and winds whipped in circles around the bridge and the stone platform. A vibrating hum of hurricane storms circled, then slowed, and then all was calm as a mist settled over the bridge from the quiet waters.

  The mist parted on the dais, and a glowing form approached. It was raining upward and sideways around him, then the blue eyes of immortal light opened. And Haddius, Ruler of the Oceans, spoke in a mighty voice of the sea.

  “If I were to wish a thousand dreams, never would I have imagined this moment.” His body was wet, filling with strength through his moist immortal flesh. His white cloth toga and garments were splendid ivory, and Haddius spread his wings wide as wind whistled waves of song into the chamber that had been his prison for over two thousand years. The power radiating from his being was beyond mortal thought, and all they could do was look at him.

  Haddius looked down to the chain and pillar that was no longer entombing him. Then he met the eyes of Saberrak, James, then Gwenneth and Azenairk, and lastly Shinayne. Waters splashed upon his magnificent form, his beard became as ripe gray hanging moss, and his skin went from frail and pale to translucent strong muscled marble. The forces at work were pulling him, taking their toll on the mortals here, powers of his family that were sending feelings to him that no mortal could comprehend nor withstand for long. He saw them tiring, as if being here was too much to breath and bare for his rescuers.

  “Rest now, my saviors. I must go, the moon of my father calls and pulls beyond my will to resist. Yet gifts I will leave you, and blessings of passage through my waters will always be yours upon the asking. Thank you Shinayne, for seeing what I could not, for the dance you gave me, I shall send you a dancer for all time. Seek the lower chambers, to your mines, but beware the Gimmorian judgment and…” The waves immersed him, beyond his rising and renewed strength, and then, Haddius was gone.

  Heavy sleep and misty rest took them over as the Ruler of Oceans was pulled into his underground sea. Waters rose to protect them, the mist of the sea was as a nourishing blanket while they slept in the deep hallows of the Temple of Haddius. Dreams of moons, storms, and smiling eyes of immortal blue played through their minds. Watchful stares kept over them, from far away, with unseen stares of tearful joy and gratitude for returning another of the fallen Caricians to his rightful home. The five companions would never know of it, but at this moment, not a living soul could dare harm them. A blessed sleep no other mortal had ever experienced was occurring, for the Gods of the Whitemoon were ever vigilant, especially over their five chosen.

  Kaya IV:II

  Southern Trail to Tintasarn

  It had been a long time since her garments were not meant to be sleek and dark for midnight murders. Her shoulders chaffed with the weight of the chainmail, the straps holding the greaves and shoulderguards were awkward as they had shifted after two days of scouting on horseback. Still, Kaya T’Vellon would not complain, the freedom she felt was beyond any discomfort. The former Lady of Southwind even carried a regular sized round shield, one without the lacerating blades she so often used for surprising her targets. The Chazzrynn woman, once known as Jade of the West, had no targets in fact. Heat bore down from the harvest sky, yet she saw a weakening storm slowly falling apart to the west, and she hoped it would bring some rain.

  “Lady Kaya, if I may?” Sir Karai queried atop his stallion as they slowed their pace. The caravan was in sight, taking a southern turn to the western trek, but all seemed well at a distance.

  “You may, what is it, Knight of Saint Tarumin?” Kaya smiled, she had been cheerful the whole last few days, but hearing her name spoken with respect made her grin anew.

  “What do you think is in there, truly?” Karai went serious in tone.

  “Karai, how could anyone know an answer to that? After thousands of years, anything could have crawled in there, squatted, and reproduced an entire civilization that we will have to war.” Sir Leonard retorted with a slight chuckle and wiped his shaved head, sweat already soaking his cloth.

  “I believe, dear Leonard, that Karai was speaking spiritually? Is that correct?” Kaya let her eyes wander the hills and open skies that seemed without end. She saw forests begin to dot the rising foothills to the south, yet the stone that broke the soil in places, was different.

  “Yes, indeed. They say this place, if it is there, was the city of worship central to the whole of the continent. Now, for its few centuries before Altestani destruction had its way, mind you. What now, would you say, are we seeking in hopes to find?” Karai looked to the front of the caravan, thousands of people from Harlaheim, families, citizens that were about to lose their homes had Cristoff not ordered the evacuation of Saint Erinsburg.

  “You just said it, Sir.” Kaya thought of home, of Southwind, the gray stone of the Bori Mountains and the thick forests of pine. She saw yellow stone sporadically south, palm trees mixed with birch, it was not home. Yet, a feeling washed over her nonetheless.

  “
He did? What did he say?” Sir Leonard was half listening, he noticed new faces ahead of the caravan.

  “Seeking in hopes to find.” Kaya smiled, her slate blue eyes above a sunburned face glistened, and her auburn hair was dry at the ends and curling.

  “Yes but find what? God, other Gods from ages past, a new city, kingdom, what?” Karai waved back to the children and folk that they rode past. There were more than he remembered, a mix of ethnicity that was not present when they had left, and it seemed the numbers had grown by several thousand refugees. He knew so few of them, yet they all knew the Knights of Saint Tarumin.

  “My peace has come after great suffering, it has come from the journey. It began with them, and what they seek so shall I. With them, there is hope on Agara.” Kaya nodded respectfully to both knights.

  “Cristoff says we are in exile, jokingly mind you at times, especially now with the dwarves. Yet, exile has never suited my tongue, not in regards to us anyway.” Leonard commented.

  “So what is such a journey? Following spiritually guided heroes, across the continent, for a greater hope? Are we in exile and flight from our pursuers and past? That is how many will view it.” Kaya asked.

  “No. We are being led by one who is led by others, it is divine in origin. It is not flight as much as a path with a destination both real and spiritual. Alden have mercy on us that it exists.”Sir Karai made the symbol of the feathered cross on his chest as he spoke.

  “So what is the word for that?” Kaya looked to Karai.

  “An exodus, Lady Kaya, I suppose were are in exodus rather than exile.” Karai returned the look, his face was calm and at peace.

  “You speak of Sir James and the four with him in such regard? It is great to admire heroes, but staking ones life for it and attesting such powerful holy words from ancient scripture? I am not so sure.” Sir Leonard noticed elves ahead with the armies now, and ragged looking mercenaries, and even Shanadorian Cavalry. “It seems Lord Cristoff has gathered more blades.”

  “You have your faith in what you wish, Sir Leonard, I have mine.” Kaya rode ahead, also noticing banners, men, and women that were not here two days past when they left to scout the free lands west of Shanador. “Yes, there are more armed at the front than…”

  Kaya heard it, faintly from here with all the wagons and thousands marching in the heat, but she heard a cry of pain. She whipped her steed ahead of the two knights that had accompanied her, faster around the formed armies. She turned south past the Shanador cavalry and dwarves of Marlennak, around the front to the regal wagons of Harlaheim, and she stopped quickly and dismounted. Elves were gathered, dwarven soldiers too, Rosana’s tent was set and surrounded. Kaya pushed through the men and forced her way in.

  “Out of my way!” Lady T’Vellon pushed in, suddenly next to a kneeling Cristoff Bradswellen and a praying Garret D’Ourmas. Drodunn Anduvann was in silent prayer with his symbol of Vundren, as was the High Hammer Brunnwik. Women with herbs and feathered crosses were whispering, children were staring, and it was hard to breath in the massive canopied tent.

  “Ahhhhh! Ohhhhhh! Kaya!” Rosana screamed, tears of pain rolling down her cheeks, blood on the bedsheets.

  “Out! I want everyone out! You Garret, you Drodunn, stay. Everyone else find fans and cool water, out now!” Kaya tried not to let her tears fall, she had never given birth, yet something pulled her close to Rosana since the day they had met.

  Without word nor retort, the men left quickly. Women and children hurried to find fans and cool water, no one questioned her commands. Rosana had sweat, not just from the heat, but from fever. Kaya felt her skin, it was blazing hot to the touch. This rarely happened in the cold of Chazzrynn, but sometimes they would open all the windows in a home if it did. Unfortunately, that would do little good here.

  “Ahhhhhh….Kaya….it hurts, the baby moves so much….it burns inside and my face….ohhhhh!” Rosana was near delirious, her brown eyes squinting shut, body rolling back and forth, unable to stay still from pain.

  “I am here, I am here now sister. You need water, fresh water, and we need to cool you down. Do you think you would like a bath?” Kaya spoke as if to a child, wiping the sweat, caressing her cheeks and brushing her brown curls off her face.

  Garret, who was completely oblivious to what had transpired, finished his prayer that he had been deeply focusing on. He placed his hand on Rosana’s womb, a simmer of white light flashed a few times, and he opened his eyes. He smiled to Kaya and Rosana, then went back to prayer.

  “Is that it? What did that do, father?” Kaya snapped.

  “Ssshhh…she is resting now, not asleep, but separated from the pain. That prayer is especially long, my apologies to you and her highness. Now, I am going to purge the fever by Aldens Grace, but your ideas for fans and water will keep her comfortable. Please continue, your presence and voice seems to sooth her. She was asking for her mother, so you will have to be both mother and sister for now, Lady Kaya.” Garret nodded, his voice and sparkling brown eyes calmed her rising anger, and he knelt once more.

  Drodunn reached up his hand, stubby fingers touching Rosana’s arm. A golden light trickled from his fingers into her skin, then disappeared. “Better?”

  Rosana nodded. “Yes, thank you.”

  “And what was that, priest?” Kaya was calm, but still holding on the the anger of so many men that seemed unable to do much but make things worse by crowding a struggling woman with child.

  “She has fever, won’t eat much, so her strength be failin’ her and the baby. Me prayer, usually for babies that struggle it is, is gonna make her bout hungry as a horse, or two.” Drodunn smiled as he reached back and took a basket from his brother Tannek. The former marshall of Marlennak stepped back fast upon seeing the glare of Kaya T’Vellon when his boot entered the tent. He nodded, smiled, and closed the flaps behind him.

  “Is that…bread…cheese…I smell food Kaya.” Rosana was staring, still disillusioned and drifting in words and motion, yet she seemed aware of her sense of smell.

  “Never works that fast, me thinks another basket be needed. Be right back.” Drodunn got up, handed the heavy basket of food to Kaya, and marched out of the tent, yelling for his younger brother.

  Kaya’s eyes went wide, the basket must have weighed three pounds. She looked to petite Rosana, all belly and bosom without much else over one hundred pounds, and then lifted the basket in disbelief. She unwrapped the cloth, began to break bits of breads and cheeses to Rosana, who politely began taking the whole pieces from her hand. The tent flap opened again.

  “Allright, here we go then.” Drodunn set down another basket, same size as the first.

  “This is ridiculous, she cannot possibly eat that much. Her stomach will burst.” Kaya shook her head, then felt Rosana take another loaf of bread from her hand.

  “Well, trim it with the water that the elf and lady Julia is bringin then. Sorry, dwarven God, dwarven prayer, for dwarven childbirth.” Drodunn smiled, trying to hide his worry behind his red and gray beard.

  “What does that matter?”

  “I take it ye never seen a dwarven woman eat then, let alone one that be pregnant and have the blessing of protections from fever upon her? Aye, oh it is a bit messy, that be an understatement. Ummm…ye ever seen when a farmer throws the slop out to----“

  “I get the point, Drodunn Anduvann, thank you.” Kaya returned to Rosana and the feeding that was taking place.

  “Welcome.” Drodunn smiled and opened the flap just as an elven man with brown locks and a thin face was lurching in with a large barrel of water. A woman with short slick hair was assisting on the other side, it was enough water to quench the thirst of fifty men. “Lady Kaya, this is Julia of the Peasant Swords and Aariss of the Riverbows, they done joined up from Freemoore. Where you two find that water so fast?”

  “Stream nearby, I swore it was dry this morning. But, perhaps I was thinking of another one we passed. Anyway, it is cool and fresh, a natural spring I would imagine.�
� Aariss set it down with Julia.

  “Is that really necessary?” Kaya looked down and commented.

  “Oh aye. Ye ever seen when the summer sun is out and the mountain boars get to the trough and---“

  “Thank you, master Anduvann, I understand. Do we have a cup for the queen?”

  Aariss Diravas looked to Julia Whiteblade who then looked to Drodunn. They shook their heads and went in search of a drinking implement for the former queen of Harlaheim.

  “Talk to me Kaya, keep me awake for this food is wonderful. I whrrrm to tahrrrm of you homelrrhhhm in Southwhrrrmm Kerhhmm.” Rosana talked as she chewed, not realizing it in the least.

  Kaya thought hard. “You want to talk to me of my homeland in Southwind Keep, do you?”

  “Urrmhhh hrrmm.” Rosana nodded, mouth full of cheese.

  The flap opened, a dwarven hand appeared with a wooden cup. Kaya took it and dipped it in the barrel, then handed it to Rosana. It was gone two seconds later and she handed it back to Kaya for more.

  “Yes, talk to me of somewhere with a cool breeze, with snow, and without all this heat, sister.” Rosana took the cup a second time, not noticing the stare of disbelief from her friend. “Is that fried pork pie there?”

  “Yes, but I do not seem to have utensils for…”

  “It is fihrrrmmm, just do not tehhhrrmm anyhrmmm.” Rosana picked into the warm meat pie with potatoes and carrots, juice running on her hands and face.

  “So, Southwind…” Kaya blinked intentionally, not wanting to stare as the little queen stuffed herself rather messily. “…it is cold there nine months of thirteen, snow covers the ground, and it is a hard environ. That is why we knights thereof are the hardest breed, you see.”