by Susi Wright
The lonely guards squinted against the sunlight at the approaching army, trying to fathom their fate. The formation was certainly a similar size to the one that had left with Xian. But cloaks of various colours streamed behind the warriors, mixed with Xian black, distinguishing this as a different company. Soon, the one who led them became visible and it was not Lord Xian. They exchanged a hopeful glance, gaining enough confidence to breath a sigh of relief, because nothing could be worse than the return of that tyrant!
Behind Luminor, the two hundred fliers streamed down into the palace courtyard, coming to land at attention in ordered ranks. The promenades surrounding the central square were filling with curious or hopeful Gaian women and the elderly. They had downed cleaning tools or abandoned the kitchens to meet the returning warriors. Some recognised at once their spouses or friends with joyful cries, some realised with sudden grief, that their loved ones were absent – had not survived the battle. Individuals who had no clansmen among the warriors, looked on in wary hope, studying the lord who must have freed them from Xian’s edict. He wore a magnificent black feather cloak almost identical to the one Lord Xian had worn and was equal in build and height. His long bright hair, which fell similarly past his shoulders, was dishevelled from the conflict and the flight, but the glowing emerald eyes that now surveyed each one of them with kindness and true power, were an eloquent testimony to this lord’s entirely different character.
Lord Luminor’s presence almost convinced them, even before he spoke. His influence was pervasive, strongly attractive without being in any way threatening. It offered only protection, safety and hope.
A few of them did remember the ancient prophecy, that one day the Lord of Fire would deliver them from Dire Circumstance and find them a place to belong. Some of them knew they had been duped in the beginning, believing the Deliverer was Xian. In reality, he had turned out to be the threat itself! Fate was sometimes ironically cruel.
The sounds of cheering and grieving wails had quickly risen to a cacophony. The two sentries, now gratefully in control of their own minds, as was every other Gaian gathered in the courtyard, hurried down to welcome their victorious comrades and new brothers. They were eager to get a close look at the true Lord of Fire.
Luminor appealed for a moment’s quiet and received it. “Brothers and sisters, I have much to explain to you, but first you must attend to the humans! For the love of the Ancestors – or all you hold dear – set them free!”
There were murmurings of trepidation in the crowd, against the movement of the two sentries who chose to comply immediately with Luminor’s directive. Egor and his friend had been the two warriors left to guard the palace. They had been least in favour of keeping the humans locked up, though at the time when the prisoners had been about to riot, the others had convinced them it was the safest choice.
Ignoring the doubters, Egor and Nolas continued down the stone stairway to one side of the courtyard, easily trusting Lord Luminor would protect them from any possible violent reprisals once they unlocked the cells. The crowd grew quiet, apart from a few sniffles or the occasional sob of a grieving widow. Luminor watched the two leave the square, disappearing down the stairs that led to the dungeons, extending a calming influence to precede them. This was intended for exactly that purpose, to buffer the situation. He directed encouragement to the crowd.
“Could some of you, good sisters, please fetch water and all the dry biscuits or panna you have in the stores? Bring them quickly and wait near the top of the stairs to give to our human brothers when they come out. Offer each one an apology with the food. Do not be afraid – it will be accepted. You are not in danger. These people are weak with starvation. They will only be glad of food and freedom!”
The Gaian company waited in tense silence. Luckily, there had been no sounds of disturbance below. The first humans emerged, shading their eyes against the brightness of the sunlight which now bathed the courtyard. Gaian women who had hurried to gather food and water buckets stepped forward to give out the rations with a tin cup of water each and heartfelt apologies. As predicted, the humans accepted these gratefully and one by one went to sit against one of the sun-warmed walls of the square. They talked in subdued voices, between mouthfuls of dried panna, washed down with the first water they had been given in more than three days. The food had been longer in coming. Most could not remember when they had last eaten.
The Gaians, on the other hand, even though they had been under the edict, had only recently suffered a reduction in food. Before that, they had been free to indulge all manner of rich fare, made available to them from the palace stores. They knew full well that they could endure abstinence from food much better than the humans and would therefore do so. If their huntsmen returned with some game, there would be a celebration, a feast which they could all share – human and Gaian together.
In the lull that continued while the humans ate, Luminor explained the simple ideals of the Alliance, relaxing his calming influence while he spoke, wanting the cause to speak for itself. He wanted a genuine reaction from all the people gathered here.
“The Alliance is developing well throughout Baram, but it is a work in progress. . .Any of you who wish to have something to believe in, may choose to join us in a new life, or continue to live your own lives as before. When the Baramese army arrives, with food and other supplies, we will all begin to rebuild something here, for those of you who wish to stay. Over the coming days, I am certain that stragglers and other wanderers will turn up at the palace gates. We must turn no one away!” With that, he directed his warriors to find recreation and rest, in lieu of a meal, and turned on his heels to find his own quiet corner. The wound in his side screamed for time to heal and he slumped down exhausted, finally allowing himself some reprieve to think about his beloved family. He was drained from the mental and physical demands of the battle, recent long days and nights without sleep, loss of blood and poisoning. He fell into a heavy, dreamless slumber.
Saria had taken kindly to Sumar’s protective nature, though remained very reserved, bearing heavily the scars of her loss. In the daylight so much had changed, it would be sometime before she could see her way ahead, though she did make it clear to Sumar that she wanted to go to the palace to find her parents as soon as possible. The recent kudros attack in the highlands was reason enough not to cross the wasteland alone, even flying. He had insisted on escorting her, but had procrastinated a little, offering to take her after he had welcomed the Baramese contingent. Sumar could see the buildings would suit to serve as a medical centre without too much work, large enough to accommodate large numbers of casualties from the battle or the fires.
For one of the very few times in his life, he harboured a selfish reluctance to carry out this promise, to escort Saria to the palace. He would have to introduce her to Xandor, whom he was certain had returned with Luminor, raising uncomfortable questions and equally uncertain answers.
In the last few hours, Sumar’s small group had been busy. At dawn, the sentry in the tower had been pleasantly surprised when he discovered half a dozen small wood pigeons had flown high into the rafters of the bell tower to roost. Their morning cooing had given away their hiding place and out of necessity, three of them had become the only scant meal the group would share this day, now roasting on the fire which had finally been safe to light. Shared between them, the pigeons provided just a few mouthfuls each, but it sufficed.
Melu had fussed and tended to his patient like a mother hen, ever since they had settled him in the straw. Churian was still unconscious, his condition showing no signs of change, but Melu had remained doggedly optimistic, changing the dressing on his patients head, bathing the wound, reapplying Prian poultice and forcing drops of water between his lips. He adamantly refused to eat anything himself, gesturing kindly for the others to finish the meat and only taking a draught of water to fill his belly. Sumar smiled at the Morvian’s tenacity, wondering if others of his race were so selfless, or if indeed any more
of those besieged people would find their way to these lands as Melu’s family had done.
Melu gave Sumar his characteristic wide grin, which conveyed wide probability of that very thing, before dabbing Churian’s brow with a damp cloth.
The afternoon was passing quickly. Everyone washed in water drawn from one of the water troughs, which had been reserved for the purpose, freshening up as best they could. Sumar watched Saria cooling her tear-reddened cheeks by splashing them with water and struggling to wash her hair in a bucket; he wished more comfort and ease for her than this. Her clothing was ruined from the dust of the tunnels and crawling through the ash of the open ground outside palace. He knew that if he took her back to the palace, she would have access to a bath and a clean gown. In his heart, he could not deny her that small comfort. One eye still on her, he stood at an opening in the damaged stone wall, where he had a good view of the distant foothills and the palace, as well as the interior of the monastery grounds. He pretended surprise when she came up beside him to ask a question.
“Sumar, when will the soldiers come?” Her brow was furrowed with impatience, but her tone seemed a little brighter, lifted by the thought of being re-united with her parents.
Sumar answered truthfully, expecting to hear the call of the sentry anytime now, when they spotted the emergence of the Baramese forces from the northern hills, marching for the palace.
“It will be less than two hours until the working party is sent here. They will set a guard for Churian and start repairing the roofs, I expect.” He smiled kindly down at Saria. “Then, I will be free to take you to your parents – I know that is what you want. Will that make you feel better?”
In truth, to make her feel better was all he really wanted.
“Yes. . .thank you,” she replied simply, looking quickly away from him towards the palace. The outline of the imposing structure with its six pointed turrets was silhouetted against the orange-and-pink striped sky. A huge red sun sat beside it on the western horizon, suspended just above the blackened plain as if waiting to observe and lend a little light to the last important event of the day, before surrendering the scene to the moon. Saria stared in that direction for a few moments before she shuddered with the bad memories and her eyes welled, her voice catching. “But, if my parents were not there, I could not bear to go back to that place!”
In a reassuring gesture, Sumar moved one step closer, but not too close, and said no more. He was thinking a great deal but carefully kept it all to himself. His gaze followed hers to the place where it was inevitable that they would discover something of their futures. At this point, he had to trust in Fate because Perception was never absolute and even though he had a good feeling about the matter, he could not tell if it would go exactly the way he hoped!
The shrill whistle of the watchman sounded as the sun dropped lower over the wasteland to the west, sending long shadows from the monastery walls reaching across the open area within. The ground darkened from burnt umber to deep black. A few members of the group hurried from the stable area and courtyards, clambering up accessible places on the walls to take a look.
A sight to behold, the six hundred strong Baramese cavalry, with an additional one hundred pack animals carrying supplies, had emerged from the foothills in the distance, trotting at the same brisk pace as when they had left the Capital. Late afternoon sunlight glinted off their shields and armour, as they rode in strict formation, proud and purposeful, atop their magnificent steeds. From this distance the muscular samblars, by their lively unfaltering gait, did not appear to have suffered too much from the days of constant and gruelling travel overland. Their speed and stamina were unrivalled by any land animal. At the rate they were moving, they would be at the palace within the hour.
Then, Lord Luminor himself would come to give Churian another treatment, bringing with him many strong hands to begin work at the monastery. And Sumar would dutifully escort Saria to the palace. . . come what may.
CHAPTER 42
True Power
Luminor woke with a start. It was the loud call of the sentries announcing the approach of the Baramese army. His ribs ached damnably from the arrow wound even though it was beginning to heal. The position in which he had slumped into sleep had not helped. Doubled over for almost an hour, he now struggled to straighten his torso so he could get to his feet. He wanted to officially receive the Baramese commander.
Unannounced, Xandor seemed to appear from nowhere to give him a hand up. Wincing, Luminor nodded his thanks to the young warrior, accepting his assistance for a few steps until his body had adjusted and the ache had dulled to a bearable level.
Commander Stolis and the leading one hundred were gathered closely at attention in the central courtyard. The others remained just outside the gates, since the inner ward could not accommodate the entire company at once. Those people already gathered in the courtyard looked on warily, not sure if the sudden arrival of such a large force of heavily armed soldiers of any race, outnumbering them by many hundreds, was a good or bad sign.
Luminor greeted Commander Stolis with the customary arm-shake. “Thank the Ancestors that you have arrived safely! Welcome! We have much need of your strong men. Many towns and villages have been ravaged by Xian’s greed. Too many have died, human and Gaian. Of my own warriors, I lost fifty. Xian lost many, some by his cursed own hand! Our race can barely withstand such losses! There are other casualties and survivors who either need help to rebuild here, or safe escort to the Capital so they can be resettled in Baram. The monastery nearby will serve as the first medical camp.”
Stolis nodded deferentially. “My lord, we are here to be of use. I am just sorry – it seems we missed the battle! We passed over the plains and saw blackened woodlands. . .and the graves.” His eyes met Luminor’s, with a gleam of respect and a grim smile. “Apparently, you Gaians managed to defeat the Dark One without us! I regret the loss of your men, but at least you now have six hundred living ones to do the work. The first squadron will leave immediately for the monastery with some supplies. The remainder of the army will camp outside the walls tonight and tomorrow we will assign them to their duties. The pack animals can be unloaded here.”
All efficiency, he turned to face his soldiers, still astride their mounts. The riders looked more travel-worn than their samblars. “Some of you men have one more move for the day!” With that, he divided the soldiers in front of him into squads, directing one group to take a drink of water and ready themselves with a few pack-animals for the short push to the monastery. He dismissed the others, including all those waiting outside the walls, to unload the animals and make camp for the night. Men and samblars sorely needed food and rest. Fortunately, tonight they would get both.
Ignoring the fact that he continued to suffer the effects of fatigue from the battle and the wound, in addition to many sleepless nights and little to eat, Luminor gulped a quick draught of water which Xandor waved under his nose. Hurriedly, he mounted a borrowed samblar to accompany the Baramese squad on the ride to the monastery. He had not forgotten his dear friend Churian, still languishing between this world and the next with a terrible head injury. Luminor hoped that when it came to calling on the Supreme power once again, he would be able to muster sufficient energy to give Churian’s recovery a much-needed boost.
Evening drew in and the sickle moon rose to replace the sun. The ride across the open ground between the heaps of rubble proved uneventful, with no sign of wild animals or mercenaries. For the entire trip however, Luminor suffered a considerable amount of discomfort in his side from the jolting stride of his samblar, but it only served to keep uppermost in his mind the worse condition of many other casualties of this war.
He was, nevertheless, very grateful when they reached their destination and he could find merciful ease in dismounting, handing his samblar to one of the soldiers. He greeted the other warriors who had guarded the monastery, before they moved off to show the newcomers the work they would begin the following morning
. Slightly hunched towards his injured side, he met Sumar with a smile.
“Sumar! It is good to finally meet you! You have done your job well!”
“Thank you. I am honored to be in your service, my lord! The victor. . .but not without injury, I see!” replied Sumar, his eyes flicking down to Luminor’s ribs, where fresh blood had started to ooze through both the rough linen dressing and the drying bloodstain on his tunic.
Luminor appreciated the concern but brushed it off with an acknowledgment to the mystical powers that had saved him. “Just a flesh wound – already healing, thanks to some timely intervention to revive my energies. If I stop moving for a full day, it will be almost gone!”
Taking the small liberty, a certain familiarity, allowed to those who have weathered great trials and survived, Sumar ventured a suggestion. “Perhaps, my lord, you should stop moving for a full day then!” he quipped. “Also. . .I look forward to hearing the Telling of the battle and what became of your dragon, my lord!” He had heard a little of the news from Melu and was somewhat disappointed to notice the absence of the legendary creature from Luminor’s side. His warrior-blood made him naturally curious about the details of the victory, though he did not regret being given a different duty during the battle this time. He had seen more than enough of fighting. And everyone was always curious about legendary creatures. Whatever the occasion, a Gaian would always enjoy a good Telling. This day would indeed be one for the legends! However, this tale would be reserved for the coming celebrations. Sumar resolved to wait to hear all about it then. He walked beside Luminor towards the stable, imagining the unprecedented scene of the battle between good and evil Fire, and the appearance and subsequent disappearance of the creature. He felt unable to resist voicing a question since he himself could not see the answer. “Do you think, my lord. . . .that the dragon will return?”
