Heirs of Prophecy

by M. A. Rothman

  Ryan taken black guards near Ezra. Going toward fountain.

  The crowds seemed torn between fear and curiosity. The people closest tried to get out of the guards’ way, but the ones farther out pressed in to see what was going on, making it impossible for anyone to clear a path. The guards resorted to elbowing their way forward rather violently.

  Ryan closed his eyes again and heard the mutterings from the townspeople.

  “Poor lad.”

  “At least it isn’t me.”

  “Damned wizard’s guards.”

  As they passed beyond the outer walls of the market, a familiar voice rose above the din.

  “Halt!”

  The guards stopped, wheeling Ryan around. There before them stood two men: Ryan’s father and Throll Lancaster. Now the crowd backed away, apparently sensing a coming conflict.

  Ryan decided it was time to drop his ruse of unconsciousness. He “awoke” and stood tall on his own two feet.

  “I am Throll Lancaster, Protector General of Trimoria,” the ranger boomed. “Why have you seized this young man?”

  “We are taking him in for questioning,” said the guard clutching Ryan’s left arm.

  “This boy is a thief,” added the guard on Ryan’s right.

  “I am not a thief,” Ryan protested.

  Another guard smacked him on the back of the head with a gauntleted fist. “Shut up, boy!”

  Dad’s eyes went wide with rage. He looked like he was fighting the urge to skewer the guard with a bolt of lightning. But Throll held an arm in front of Dad to calm him.

  “I know this boy,” Throll said evenly. “I will vouch for his honesty. He is no thief.”

  The guard holding Ryan’s right arm pulled a piece of paper from his pocket. “This is a complaint filed against the smithy’s son. He’s been accused of stealing a wagon full of miscellaneous supplies two months ago. Moreover, he stands accused as a ringleader of a thieving organization led by a boy named Dominic Sweeney. Sweeney is currently missing.”

  Throll laughed. “Dominic Sweeney and this boy, ringleaders of a thieving organization? That has to be a joke. Who’s made this accusation?”

  The guard looked at the paper. “Sling Breneven.”

  Throll dismissed this with a wave of his hand. “In that case, you are pursuing a false report, and I demand you hand this boy over to me. Sling is a known bully, a child who has already attacked this boy once before—a charge for which he’s only recently been released from labor camp. It seems the work detail did not have the desired effect.”

  The guard sneered. “No chance. Sling gave me the report directly.” The guard pointed behind him toward the fountain. “In addition, he also stands accused of making the fountain—”

  Before he could finish that sentence, the guard behind him gave him a tremendous smack on the back of the head.

  The guard grunted, then continued. “The boy is a thief. We will be questioning him. We’ll let you know the results, Protector.”

  As the guard finished his pronouncement, two horses came galloping toward them, with Aaron and Ohaobbok riding, and Silver on their heels. The crowd backed further away, and as Aaron and Ohaobbok dismounted beside Throll and Dad, all four of them drew their swords.

  “Why are you holding my little brother?” Ohaobbok rumbled.

  Ryan took advantage of the distraction to gently shock the hands holding him, shake loose of the guards, and race to join his rescuers. Silver was the last to arrive. He stood in front of the guards and growled darkly, his hackles raised.

  The black guards gave each other uncertain looks.

  The standoff lasted a long, tense moment. Then the guard who seemed to be in charge pointed at Throll menacingly.

  “This isn’t over, Protector,” he said. “Azazel expects thieves to be punished. If you will not uphold the law, we will.”

  “I’ll be sure to get to the bottom of the situation,” Throll retorted. “You can rest easy knowing that the proper person will be punished.”

  The guard made a disgusted grunt, then led his companions away.

  Throll and Dad took Ryan by the arms just as the guards had done, and pulled him in the direction of the Lancaster home. Striding ahead, Aaron and Ohaobbok escorted their horses through the crowds. Silver brought up the rear, making a deep and constant purr.

  “That was a close call,” Throll said in a low voice.

  “I’m guessing you guys got my message,” Ryan said.

  Dad nodded. “We all did.”

  Aaron looked back over his shoulder. “Ohaobbok and I were practicing our sword strokes when the vibrations came. I’m just lucky Ohaobbok’s still slow, because he was mid-stroke when the message started.” He ribbed his much larger friend. “I could’ve lost my head.”

  “I nearly choked on my ale,” Dad said. “It’s lucky Throll and I were down here already, looking for a gift for your mother and Gwen.”

  “What did you get them?” Ryan asked.

  Dad looked sheepish. “Your message interrupted us before we finished shopping.”

  “Your father stretches the truth,” Throll said with a chuckle. “We were held off by the allure of my favorite ale cart.”

  Ryan chuckled too. “After what you guys just did, I’m happy to keep your secret.”

  Unfortunately, the hadn’t even made it home yet when they ran into more trouble from the bully Sling. They were out on the open road, and Ryan was just beginning to relax again, when an arrow whistled past his ear. The pain followed a second later, and when he reached up to touch his ear, he felt blood on his fingers. Apparently he’d been nicked, although it wasn’t serious.

  He wheeled around to find Sling standing in the tall grass, a bow aimed directly at him, another arrow already pulled back.

  “You’re dead,” the bully slurred. It was obvious why the boy had missed. He was drunk. “You won’t fight fair, and you’ve ruined my life. This is how it ends.”

  Ryan’s heart raced. Sling looked wobbly, but there was no guarantee he would miss a second time.

  “Don’t do this, Sling,” Throll shouted. “Let’s talk—”

  Sling let loose his arrow.

  Time seemed to slow for Ryan as the arrow sailed directly at his chest. Acting entirely on reflex, he concentrated his energy on the arrow in flight, and sparks shot from his fingers.

  The arrow was incinerated just an instant before it reached him.

  Dad had reacted as well, and unfortunately, he had much less control of his power than Ryan did. He erupted with a massive stream of energy that shot right through the arrow and consumed Sling in a wild torrent of flames. In seconds, all that remained of Sling was a burning pile of charred bones.

  Ryan looked at Dad in silent shock.

  But Dad looked even more horrified than Ryan was. “I didn’t mean to—”

  “He was trying to kill you,” Ohaobbok said. “You were defending yourself.”

  Throll nodded. “Agreed. Neither of you has fault in this. This is what happens when you mix trouble with alcohol… and a little stupidity.”

  Aaron shook his head. “That was more than just a little stupidity. What was he thinking? That he was going to be able to kill all four of us? Or that we were just going to watch him kill Ryan and then let him go?”

  Dad remained silent, but Throll worked his hand over the hilt of his sword. “Enough on this subject. Let’s bury the remains. If anyone asks, the boy named Sling is simply missing. I’ll let Azazel’s guards know that I went to question the witness but couldn’t find him. This should clear Ryan’s name in the process, given that Sling was the only ‘witness’ to this trumped-up charge.”

  And as they began dealing with the remains of the unfortunate Sling, Ryan couldn’t help but notice his father’s pensive silence.

  A New Arrival

  Jared sat on the steps before the Lancaster home, watching Throll pace nervously. “What did you expect Gwen to do?” he asked with a smile. “I realize you want to be ther
e for her, but there’s very little a man can do in these situations.”

  Throll stopped pacing. “I know, but I feel so helpless. She’s in so much pain, it’s driving me crazy.”

  “How does this compare to the previous birth? Is she acting differently?”

  Throll smiled fondly. “So far, this one is much easier. When Sloane started to come, Gwen threw things at me and threatened to tie me up in the barn if I didn’t leave her alone.”

  Jared laughed. “That does seem like progress. Don’t worry; Aubrey’s tending her. She’ll make sure nothing goes wrong.”

  The birth went remarkably well under Aubrey’s guidance, and to everyone’s surprise, Gwen was not only up and about the very next day, she wanted to take her new baby boy to the fountain as soon as possible.

  “Are you sure, my love?” Throll asked her. “I worry that you’re pushing yourself too hard. You just gave birth.”

  Gwen lovingly cupped his cheek with her hand. “I’m fine. Aubrey’s healing bath did wonders for me. For us both, really.” She gazed down at the baby tucked in the crook of her arm. “You can see for yourself how happy and healthy he is. Even his belly button is completely healed. Truth be told, I feel better now than I have in my entire life.”

  Throll turned to Aubrey. “You have my sincere thanks for helping my wife and son through this ordeal. I thank all of the odd coincidences and prophecies in this world that you and your family collided with ours.”

  “No need for thanks,” Aubrey said. “I’m more interested to know what you plan on calling this beautiful boy of yours.”

  Throll looked to Gwen. “Have you decided? Can we name him after who we discussed?”

  Gwen nodded.

  With a huge smile, Throll looked down at the sleeping baby in her arms. “Welcome to this world, Zenethar Lancaster.”

  “Zenethar?” Ryan asked.

  “Zenethar was the name of the First Protector,” Throll explained. “A name of honor. I hope it will serve my son well, and lead to a healthy and long life filled with honor and happiness.”

  “Amen,” the others said in unison.

  Since the wizard’s guards were still about, Throll insisted that they take Zenethar for his ritual bath under cover of night. As they approached the fountain, he turned to Ohaobbok.

  “Your night vision is best. Do you see any guards?”

  The ogre shook his head. “No. I see no one.”

  Throll adjusted the sleeping baby in his arms. “Well then, it’s time.”

  With Gwen at his side, he strode up to the fountain. The two parents exchanged a look, and then Throll lowered little Zenethar into the water.

  The moment the baby disappeared beneath the water’s surface, the blood in Throll’s veins turned to ice as the orb atop the statue flared with a shockingly bright light. A flock of birds cawed loudly and scattered from the same tree where they’d been before.

  Throll lifted his son once more and clutched the soaking, crying baby to his chest. “Let’s go,” he said. “Quickly.” He put an arm around his wife, who was now also crying. “Forget the omens, my love. I’ll allow no harm to come to our child.”

  That night, Throll couldn’t sleep. Despite the comforting words he’d given his wife, his mind was busy fretting on what the omen might mean for his son’s future.

  Then, as if in answer, a vision appeared before his eyes.

  The body of the First Protector lies on a dais, shielded by a strange cocoon of effervescent mist. At times, the mist looks transparent; at other moments, it takes on opaque rainbow hues.

  A gray-robed apparition stands over him. A woman, ancient, her wrinkled face surrounded by a disheveled mass of gray hair. She waves one gnarled arthritic hand over the mist, and the sparkling barrier dissipates.

  For the first time in five hundred years, the First Protector sits up.

  With a flash of white, a new scene unfolded before Throll’s eyes.

  A familiar-looking and handsome young man, his armor and sword glowing with a fiery-red glint, rides his horse through a vast army, barking directions. The soldiers around him include not only humans but dwarves, and also what might be elves.

  The general unsheathes his sword, waves it above his head, and points ahead. In the distance, a large black cloud, radiating despair, hovers over another army—one borne of nightmare.

  Another flash of white, and Throll shook his head, scarcely able to believe what he’d seen. But before he could even think about what it meant, another vision arrived.

  A giant ogre crosses a natural stone bridge across a deep chasm. He is equipped in plate armor that glows a pristine white and emits sparks with every movement. At his side is a great sword larger than any Throll has ever seen. Its blade is sheathed, but its pommel is red.

  Following the ogre is a young wizard. In one hand he holds a sparking metal staff; in the other, a brilliant diamond the size of a melon. It pulses with radiant power.

  Crossing the bridge from the opposite side of the chasm is a fiend of blackness and fire. It matches the ogre in size and wields an equally giant sword, this one branded with flame.

  As the ogre meets the fiend at the middle of the bridge, a dark presence of palpable evil appears on the far side. It’s enormous, dwarfing both fiend and ogre.

  The wizard raises the diamond above his head.

  The scene flashed white, and Throll shook his head.

  Time had passed. It was morning. The baby slept peacefully in his bassinet, but beside him, Gwen sat up with a start.

  “Did you just have a strange dream about the First Protector?” she asked, shivering with fear, moisture spilling from her eyes. “Not the normal dream?”

  Throll nodded. “Yes. It appears our guests’ children will play significant roles in Trimoria’s future. The ogre, as well.”

  “Things are going to be changing soon, aren’t they?” Gwen whispered.

  Throll hugged her gently. “Time will tell…”

  As everyone sat at the table for breakfast, they compared notes on the vision.

  “I think we can conclude that the dream confirms the dwarfish prophecy,” Throll said. “I’m afraid that the people around this table hold the destiny of Trimoria in their hands.”

  Aaron felt anxious and excited at the same time. “I can’t believe I’ll be leading an army of humans, dwarves, and elves!” He furrowed his brow. “We’ll need to meet with the dwarves to discuss the matter. But how will we get into the mountains? The cliff Ohaobbok fell from can’t be climbed. I’ve tried.”

  “I didn’t fall,” Ohaobbok said. “I was thrown, remember?”

  Aaron nodded. “I know. Your mother is a little meaner than mine.”

  His mother glared. “Oh, I’m only a little nicer?”

  “Sorry, Mom. But back to my point: how do I find these dwarves for my army if we can’t get up into the mountains?”

  “Easy there, General Aaron,” Throll said with a smile. “You’re not exactly going to be leading that army tomorrow. The vision suggests we have years to prepare. When the time comes, I’m sure we’ll figure something out.”

  “What about the elves?” Sloane asked, her eyes twinkling. “Do you think it’s true that some of them live in the woods nearby?”

  Gwen shook her head. “Those are just idle rumors and legends.”

  “We should ask that girl that Aubrey healed. She was in those woods.” She flicked her eyes impishly toward Ryan. Aaron had told her about how Ryan had practically gawked at the girl. “I forget… what was her name?”

  “Arabelle,” Ryan said quickly, his cheeks growing red.

  Sloane grinned. “Ryan, you should find her, ask her if she saw any elves.”

  Ryan’s cheeks only grew redder. He had a thing for that girl—that was obvious.

  “I’ve been thinking about a more pressing matter,” Dad said. “If all of us had these visions, it’s likely that everyone else in Trimoria had it as well. Aaron and Ryan, you were both clearly visible in the visi
ons—and I don’t want you getting recognized, especially by the wizards’ guards. So I insist that neither of you goes into town until the caravan and those guards are gone. And even then, only when necessary.”

  Aaron sulked.

  Throll turned to Ohaobbok. “I ‘m concerned for you as well. We already hide your face, but I’d like to ask you to sleep in the house instead of the barn. I know it won’t be as comfortable, as we can’t easily fit a bed your size in here, but I’d like to have all of us under the same roof so we can watch out for each other.”

  Ohaobbok shook his head. “Don’t fear for me. I can look out for myself. And for the rest of you, too. What I would like to know is whether you will continue to train us. According to that vision, I’m going to be facing a fearsome foe. I mean to face him well prepared.”

  Throll nodded. “Training will definitely continue. In fact, given what we now know about your fates, I suggest we increase the pace.”

  Aaron felt his excitement swell.

  “You’ll need a new sword, Ohaobbok,” Dad said. “I’ve already been thinking that the sword you now carry is too small for your strength, and now… well, I’m thinking I can make something that resembles the one in the vision. That would be a two-handed sword for most people, but I suspect you’ll be wielding it with one hand.”

  “That’s an excellent idea,” said Throll. “But Jared, when you go the smithy, might I suggest that you take a horse from now on? I know it’s only a short walk, and you enjoy it, but if an emergency goes out on our rings…”

  “Agreed,” Dad said.

  “What about me?” Ryan asked. “It wasn’t even exactly clear what I was going to do. How should I prepare?”

  “I would think, just keep working on your magic,” Dad said.

  “There is more you can do,” added Throll. “I have a number of old books in my library. Perhaps you can see if they give you any information on the abyss from the vision. Or even on magic itself. But please be careful with them; time has rendered them brittle.”