The Rising Past: Book 2 in The Keepers of the Orbs Series

by J. G. Gatewood

  Raythum tried to protest. “A thousand years ago? How can it be possible?”

  “That is a conversation for another time. I assure you we will one day discuss it, but you are neither the right age to bear this burden nor is the time right to get into this story.” Raythum tried to say something else, but Norlun cut him off. “I think it is time you made your way back to your own quarters.” He hustled the boy out into the hall. “You can rest easy knowing I will handle the situation. Now be off with you.” He made a waving gesture with his hands, sending the boy down the dimly lit corridor, before closing his door.

  Raythum had more questions now, than he had before he came to speak with the old man. But even with all of the new questions, his mind felt more at ease, and he felt confident in his decision. At least whatever Tirell planned wouldn’t land on his shoulders alone.

  As the days and weeks passed, Raythum found himself watching and following his older brother, an uneasy task for a ten-year old who already spent a large deal of his time in his studies—both in combat and academia. He should be spending his time playing with friends, adventuring in the vast forest surrounding Havenbrook. Tirell seemed less infatuated with the diary, and as far as Raythum could tell, his older brother no longer spent countless hours studying the book, evident by the fact he no longer carried it around with him everywhere he went.

  Norlun had increased Tirell’s studies and now he seemed to be satisfied with the more difficult spells he was taught. In place of the diary, Tirell carried around the large tome the old wizard used, which put Raythum more at ease. He found a hope his brother appeared to be on a much better path and would be toeing-the-line from here on out.

  He stopped following him, convinced by his transformation, and he no longer lay awake at night worrying about the deeds his brother concocted—a mistake he would dread for many years to come. On a hot summer evening Raythum awoke in bed, startled by a terrifying dream involving torture—by whom he didn’t know. He walked to the window and gazed upon the courtyard; still yawning and not yet awake, but not yet ready to return to the land of slumber—afraid of what might greet him.

  He didn’t know if he could fall back asleep on his own, but figured the chef would be prepping the kitchen for the morning’s breakfast service. This meant he could finagle a warm cup of milk from him; considering this wasn’t the first time he had made a late night, or early morning request for something to settle his nerves.

  He went to turn from the window when a bright white light caught his attention from across the courtyard—nothing more than a flash and it lasted but a second, but enough to draw his attention. He squinted, as he stared into the distance, trying to determine the source of the brilliant light, but couldn’t see anything. This new phenomena disturbed and intrigued him enough to want to know more.

  He pulled on a dirty tunic, a pair of breeches, and his walking boots, before he made his way through the palace. He would draw too much attention if he tried to walk out the front gate, so he made his way to the palace cellar and left through a service entrance—with no risk of running into a guard at this time of day.

  He stepped outside where the brisk wind cascaded over the hill the palace sat upon, hit him in the face. He wished he had grabbed a cloak to fend of the biting wind, but he couldn’t go back now. The chance the source of the light remained outside was a small one, but any delay would only decrease those chances, and he had to know.

  He made his way to the courtyard, but changed his mind and slowed his pace. After all, he didn’t know the root cause of the phenomena and didn’t want to risk running into trouble, so he took a longer, but more concealed route taking him through the garden. He tiptoed, watching where he put his feet so as not to inadvertently step on a downed branch or twig and alert someone to his presence.

  Several natural trees filled the courtyard, and a garden surrounded them. Raythum crept up behind one of the larger oak trees and peered around the trunk. Another bright, white flash illuminated the thick vegetation. In the light provided by the flash, Raythum saw the figure for the first time. The man wore a black cloak with the hood flipped back, revealing the porcelain white skin and short black hair of his brother. His old feelings of suspicion returned, and he sighed. It seemed some things never changed.

  Tirell crouched down on his knees with his hands outstretched, palms facing each other, with a swirling white globe no larger than a grapefruit between them. He uttered an incantation and fixed his attention on the ball of swirling energy. Raythum stared long and hard, focusing on the intense face of his brother. His gaze locked on Tirell’s eyes and he jumped when he realized they were a milky white, glazed over, and appeared to be swirling in sync with the white globe dancing between his palms.

  The light disappeared and Raythum resumed his watch, peering around the hulking trunk separating him from his brother. He thought he had been sly and had taken every precaution necessary to prevent him from alerting his brother to his presence, but then Tirell spoke up.

  “I thought I warned you before, it isn’t polite to spy on your siblings.” He turned his head to look at his younger brother. Raythum felt relieved when he noticed that his brother’s eyes had returned to their normal color, but seemed embarrassed by the capture. “I’m just practicing. You needn’t be worried,” he said in a sarcastic tone with a smirk on his face.

  Now that his brother noticed his presence, hiding behind the tree no longer seemed necessary. He walked out and said, “But it is the middle of the night. Your actions would lead one to believe you’re trying to hide something. You can’t tell me you need to work on your studies during the morning hours, unless you don’t want people to see what you are doing.”

  Tirell stood up and approached him. “I’m telling you there is nothing you need to worry about. I couldn’t sleep so I came out to the garden to practice the lessons I learned yesterday.” He put his arm around his brother’s neck. “Besides, it’s easier to concentrate when the whole world is asleep.” He looked his brother in the face. “But that leads me to another question. What were you doing in the garden at such a late, or should I say, early hour?”

  Raythum turned red embarrassed he had been caught in the act. “I woke up from a nightmare and walked to the window to get an idea of the time. I wanted a warm glass of milk and needed to know if anyone would be in the kitchen. I spotted the white light and had to investigate, which is when I came to the garden. I wasn’t spying on you. I didn’t know who I was spying on.”

  Tirell chuckled. “I don’t know how much of it I believe. Especially considering you ran to Norlun and told him I read Luther’s diary,” he snarled.

  Raythum froze. “I, I, I…” he stammered, once again turning beet red.

  “You didn’t think I knew it was you, did you? You were the only one who knew, and when Norlun changed his attitude and my lessons when he returned, I put it together rather easily.” He waited for Raythum to respond. When he didn’t, Tirell continued. “It’s okay. At least I’m learning some more advanced spells now.” He started walking back toward the palace with his arm still around his brother. “If anything, I should thank you. And I’m more focused on my studies now than ever.”

  Raythum was surprised how the events had transpired since he woke. He followed after his brother. He didn’t know how much he believed him, but it didn’t appear he intended anything mischievous, so he let it go.

  A Regular Watch

  Havenbrook sat in a thick fog on a fall morning. The sun had yet to crest the horizon and a crisp wind blew from the west, chilling Raythum down to the bone. The council had given him a watch at the age of fourteen on a semi-regular occasion. This felt more important now than ever as the Rintana approached from the seas to the west. Havenbrook had had no contact with the Rintana in a few centuries, but they were renowned as a warrior race, set on conquering other civilizations to increase their land, and ever their reach.

  The reported news from scouts mentioned hundreds of warships, frigate
s, and galleons on a course due east toward Havenbrook. The sheer numbers could only mean one thing, an invasion.

  The Rintana hailed from the continent of D’rakal, a much smaller land than Askabar. Over the previous centuries, the Rintana had conquered much, if not all, of D’rakal. Rumor had it they had set their eyes on Askabar, before taking on the rest of the world. The Rintana were known for the loyalty of their soldiers, and their military prowess on the field of battle.

  Not to say they were invincible and couldn’t be defeated; they had lost many fights throughout their long and blood-filled history. The Rintana were different from the other races of Nithor in that they were conquest-driven and blood thirsty warriors. They considered surrender an unacceptable option with no quarter offered.

  D’rakal was an arid and dry continent with sparse water, and the desert stretched in all directions. The lack of water and excess heat made the soldiers more formidable enemies. They could march for days in the burning summer heat and require far less water than the average Human. The winter season appeared to be the one time the Rintana were at a disadvantage.

  Raythum looked out at the horizon through a spyglass. His nerves were on edge and he could no longer handle the wait. It had been over a week and they hadn’t sighted the enemy ships yet. He pulled the spyglass down and issued the all clear to the messenger, who would deliver it to the rest of the wall.

  It had been a long evening, and Raythum felt exhausted. To keep up appearances with the other troops, though, he couldn’t rest. His watch would be over soon and he would climb into his warm bed to get some rest. At times such as these, he envied his brother. Tirell could continue his normal routine, although his training had been increased with spells that would be productive in battle. The conclave had inducted and welcomed Tirell into it as an apprentice at the age of sixteen. Raythum was happy about this, because by all outward appearances his brother had given up his quest to learn more about Luther.

  The sun began to crest the western horizon when a trumpet blared out in a long dull blast, indicating a change in troops. Raythum looked relieved. He scanned the horizon one last time giving the all clear, before handing the spyglass to his replacement.

  His legs were shaky and ready to give out as he made his way down from the wall; he hadn’t sat down in twelve hours. His stomach grumbled and he had a decision to make. Grab something to eat, or crawl into bed. Exhaustion won over and he decided to skip breakfast. He would welcome even a couple hours of sleep, especially if the enemy arrived soon. Besides, he could eat later.

  He made his way to the palace, which felt like a long walk for an exhausted teenager. Several people tried to stop him as he made his way to his quarters. He did his best to be polite, but excused himself; his bed screamed his name now. He took off his boiled leather armor, piece by piece before climbing into his bed; eyes closing before his head even hit the pillow.

  To Raythum it seemed only minutes had gone by, but hours after he first fell asleep, a trumpet sounded and he jumped out of bed because of his years of training. He gathered his armor and strapped it on before heading out into the hallway to make his way to the wall. His heart raced and he wished he had gotten a bite to eat before putting himself in bed.

  Upon stepping outside, he couldn’t believe how warm the day had become, considering the chill of the morning hours. Still not awake, he yawned as he made his way to the central access. Troops massed and space tightened as he made his way up the narrow, dark stairway. Adrenaline coursed through his body now that the battle felt all too real.

  Once on top of the wall, he gazed out upon the ocean. He squinted to look through the bright sunlight reflecting off the rough water, and noticed the hundreds of dark specs filling the horizon.

  He scanned the mass of soldiers accumulating on the wall to try to find his captain. He spotted the stern man barking orders to several troops a hundred paces down the wall. He moved through the mob and forced his way to the officer. When he approached, he saluted.

  “Captain, how bad does it look?” He released his salute.

  The captain looked surprised. “Raythum! What are you doing up here?”

  “I heard the trumpets and made haste to see how I could be of assistance.”

  “Raythum, you are very adept with the sword and I’m sure one day you will make a fine soldier, but son, you are still a boy.” He noticed the dissatisfied look on Raythum’s face. “I didn’t mean it as a criticism. I think you could be a benefit to this battle, but I doubt your father would want you here risking your life.”

  Raythum straightened up and composed himself. “With all due respect, sir, I have been training with the sword my entire life, however short it may be. Give me the opportunity to prove myself. I may just be fourteen, but I feel I can be of use.” The captain furrowed his brow, as he looked the boy over. “Besides, my father always says it is good for the troops to see you out fighting alongside them; risking your life no differently than they are. Although I may be young, it is my honor and duty to contribute to the battle, one way or another.” He was satisfied with the way he defended himself for the first time in his life, and felt he handled it like a real man. His father would’ve been proud.

  The captain ran his hands through his thick gray hair, unsettled and unsure how he should proceed. “I only agreed to allow you up here during the middle of the night when you weren’t at risk. But, I see the same stubbornness in you that I see in your father, so I know you won’t let this go.” He sighed as a grin crossed the length of Raythum’s face. “I will find you something to do, until then, stay out of the way.”

  Raythum spun on his heels and looked out over the ocean at the oncoming fleet. He couldn’t hold back how elated he felt, and it filled his face. He didn’t want the officer to think he gloated. Although the captain was well aware of how he felt.

  “What do you think their strategy will be?” Raythum asked the officer.

  “I think they will continue on their current course to secure the harbor first,” he replied.

  Raythum turned and faced his superior. “Why would they come to the harbor? I know it is important, but I would assume they would make land fall southwest of here, far from the range of our weapons. They would know we would never leave the confines of our city, and the walls protecting it,” he paused before continuing. “This would allow them to gather their troops before making their way to the city. If they come to the harbor, they will be sitting ducks. Our catapults and trebuchets would make quick work of the ships, and our archers would pick off the soldiers. I would have to disagree with you.” Raythum stood, silently hoping he hadn’t misspoken.

  The officer took in everything Raythum had said, nodding at points, allowing him to reach the logical conclusion. “Very good Your assumptions match up with my estimations, and it is the strategy I’m trying to plan for, and ultimately thwart.”

  A smile crept on both their faces. “So you were testing me then?”

  “Yes, I was. And I agree with most of your points. There is only one area where we differ. I hope the Rintana believe, as you did, we won’t leave the safety of the city walls. In fact, I’m counting on it. I already have a garrison stationed just to the east of where I believe they will make landfall. They have catapults and wizards with them to ambush the enemy. Our troops will be outnumbered, but I’m hoping the element of surprise will decrease the enemy numbers before they ever make it to the city.” The officer smiled, stunned by the understanding this young boy already had of tactics. He would make a fine ruler one day.

  Raythum looked surprised. He hadn’t anticipated this type of response, although he had to admit he thought it refreshing. Instead of sticking to basic war tactics, the captain used creativity and thought outside the proverbial box—although this tactic had risks of its own.

  “Won’t that put many of the troops at risk?” He could sense agitation growing in the officer. “Don’t get me wrong, I think it is not only a good first move, but a smart one at that. I’m ju
st surprised the general signed off on these orders.”

  “The general is an old man, and stuck in his ways,” he chuckled. “It took a bit of convincing, but I had your father on my side.”

  “Then it all makes sense. My father has always liked suggestions which stray from the ordinary,” he grinned feeling both proud and satisfied. He looked once more to the sea and watched the ever-growing fleet fill the horizon. “What task will you assign to me then, sir?”

  “I think you should assist the other privates in preparation for the battle. Ensure the ammunition is well stocked, and I would be sure to get a good meal too, since you don’t know when you will have a chance to eat again.”

  Raythum saluted the captain before assisting the other troops in preparation, excited to be participating.

  The afternoon wore on as the heat increased. Raythum had still yet to get anything to eat, and his grumbling stomach served as a constant reminder. He glanced out over the horizon and noticed the invading army had made landfall far to the southwest as expected. Relief flooded his body as something went as planned. Hopefully the ambush had commenced, and the enemy numbers would dwindle without taking too many casualties of their own.

  Raythum wiped the beading sweat from his brow. He looked at the soldiers busy with their tasks up and down the wall. He spotted a trio of younger boys delivering water and strips of dried lamb to the soldiers and he waved them over. They delivered water from wooden buckets.

  A servant offered a ladle of fresh water to Raythum. He thrust out his arms and reached for it; gulping it down before asking for more. He stuffed his mouth with strips of the dried meat and finished it off with another ladleful of water.

  Commotion arose in the courtyard below the interior wall. He spotted his father and several of his guards approaching on horseback. The soldiers on the ground fell into ranks, and the soldiers on the wall looked on with great interest as their king approached.