by Rex Hazelton
“It's clear to all that their failure abrogated their heritage, a heritage which the Warl's Magic wisely transferred to our fathers and to all who would walk in their footsteps. The old bloodline of the Fane J'Shrym is cursed! If you're of this lineage... then you are an enemy, that is, unless you reject your wicked ancestry and submit to the Tsadal Way. Will you do this?”
“Can a tree reject its roots?” Jeaf quietly replied. “Then neither can I renounce who I am.”
Smiling like a cat who had caught a bird, Trycanor concluded. “Well than, Fane J'Shrym, you've sealed your fate. Unstrap him! It's time to take him to the Hall of Light.”
****
“Heretic!” Trycanor shouted to the council of elders as his black robe flailed about a step behind his waving arms. Unlike the chimney-shaped Baptismal Chamber, the Hall of Light was long and narrow with towering walls that reached up to a wood-covered ceiling. Beyond the elders, a throng of more than five-hundred people stood in the impressive edifice, those whose position in the community had gained them a place in the hall.
“He willingly admits that he's from the cursed lineage of the Fane J'Shrym our fathers told us would try to subjugate us under its cruel fist.” Lifting the hammer for all to see, the Grand Inquisitor, putting on his best oratorical air as easily as he changed garments, cried out, “And this is the instrument he would use to accomplish this! He claims to be the Hammer Bearer, but he is nothing more than a usurper who would try to invalidate our calling as the Chosen Ones. No doubt, he's the agent of the ancient evil that prophecy tells us will manifest itself at the end of the age. Therefore, I demand that he be made to pass through the Fires of Cleansing so that our valley may be purified from the defilement he has brought with him.”
Goldan, who could not contain himself any longer, did a thing that neither he nor any other Tsadal had done for as long as anyone could remember, he challenged the Chief Elder. Stepping up on the judgment dais, coming to stand beside Jeaf, he spoke as the young Woodswane's advocate. “I oppose Torqanor's judgment and ask that the elders not sentence this man to death!”
“Who's to say he would die, Commander?” Trycanor was taken aback by Goldan's effrontery and had to tread water while he tried to reclaim the emotional momentum he lost by this unprecedented challenge.
“What if he did survive the fire? You'd just claim this was proof that evil magic empowers him.” Goldan, who argued valiantly to protect the young Woodswane from the Grand Inquisitor, was risking his position in the Tsadal community. “I was with Trycanor in the Baptismal Chamber, I can testify that he is more interested in having Jeaf Oakenfel silenced than he is in finding out the truth!”
As the Commander of Tsadal's military, Goldan didn't lack influence, and he would use all of it now. “The dreaded army of darkness that prophecy has told us would assail Nyeg Warl at the end of the age is already here. The death of the hunchman proves this, as well as Prince Phelp's correspondence I received just this morning. In it, he warns us of an impending fight between Nyeg Warl and Koyer's hordes. He says that the fate of our warl will be decided in this battle and asks for our help. If this is true, as I believe it is, where is the Hammer Bearer who prophecy says will appear to lead us into battle?”
Stepping over to Trycanor, Goldan took the hammer out of the startled man's hand. Then, pointing to Jeaf, he continued. “Here is a man who could be the Hammer Bearer. Do we have another challenger? No... I thought not!” The Tsadal commander handed the hammer to Jeaf and added, “If I were you, I wouldn't kill this Hammer Bearer before you find another to take his place.”
By the time Goldan had finished speaking, Trycanor was back in full-form. Signaling a guard, he had Jeaf divested of the hammer and had it given back to him. “Where does it say the Hammer Bearer is a Woodswane? Would any dare contradict the wisdom of the Council of Credylnor? I, myself, would not doubt their interpretations of prophecy, though Koyer himself now sat where our honored king does.”
“Then you'are a fool!” Goldan shouted.
“And you, Commander, are under this man's spell.” Trycanor accused the renowned leader. “If you are not careful, you'll be joining him in the fire. The impudence you have displayed against our revered fathers is abominable!”
Creydlnor's elders began shouting divergent opinions, filling the Hall of Light with the heat of dissention for the first time in its sterile history. In time, the arguing ended, and a vote was taken. One-hundred-and-one out of two-hundred elders voted to have Jeaf pass through the Fires of Cleansing.
Enraged, the elders who voted against Jeaf couldn't wait another moment to carry out their sentence. So, they rushed out of the Hall of Light, carrying the young Woodswane on their shoulders, all trussed up like a sheep being taken to the slaughter.
Those who had dissented stood by confused.
In a few moments time, the incensed elders arrived at the Court of Recompense where a large pile of kindling awaited their arrival. Only a few of the elders knew that Trycanor had it placed there long before Jeaf was taken into the Baptismal Chamber. In short order, Jeaf was tied to a metal spike that rose out of a large platform of stone. The news of the day's events, passing through Creydlnor like wildfire, had already brought droves of Tsadal into the public arena to witness the coming spectacle. While wood was being stacked about the young Woodswane's legs, a mixture of revulsion, excitement and, strangest of all, contentment appeared on the Tsadal faces. This later emotion was elicited by the sense of rightness that this dreaded liturgy provided them. The horror of the usurper's death would highlight the glory of their way of life. His failure would signal their victory. Fear began taking hold of Jeaf's mind as death drew ever closer. But even as his emotions began to get the best of him, the sound of music, drifting out from a nearby hill, magically stirred up a belief that everything would somehow work itself out.
Once the wood was in place, a brace of trumpets sounded, marking the beginning of the ancient rite of the Fires of Cleansing. The one hundred-one elders, those who had voted for the young Woodswane's death, stood about the metal spike, holding torches they would throw into the wood as the consummating act of the Tsadal voting process.
Looking like a caged lion, Goldan paced back and forth in front of his troops; a torrid battle was raging inside his brain. The belief that Jeaf was the Hammer Bearer of prophecy, was assailing his loyalty to his fathers. The pressure mounting up inside him was so great that he thought his mind would snap, leaving him to wander through life in slobbering insanity. How could he oppose that which he had spent a lifetime fighting for? What would happen to him if he did? Would his family understand what he was thinking of doing? And the soldiers who so faithfully followed him, what about them?
Finally, making a decision that would forever change his life, Goldan turned to his troops. Facing those who had risked their lives with him before, he called upon the bond of trust that had been developed over the many summers they had served together. “Men… I'm asking you to follow my lead. The elders are right when they say a cloud of unrighteousness is covering our beloved valley this day, but it isn't the Woodswane who is at fault; the Royal Inquisitor, and those who voted his will, are responsible for its arrival. I can't stand by and let them shed this innocent man's blood. If you'll help me stop this travesty, I want to thank you for your aid. If you can't find it in your heart to help, I'm asking you to not interfere.” Reaching for his sword the Commander added, “I swear on my honor as a Tsadal, I believe Jeaf Oakenfel is the Hammer Bearer; I will not let our elders' shortsightedness rob Nyeg Warl of her champion!”
The trumpets sounded a second time before Trycanor read aloud the crimes that the young Woodswane was found guilty of committing. Once he had finished reading the Parchment of Accusation, he touched it to a nearby torch. Throwing it on the wood engulfing Jeaf's lower body, the tinder caught fire. A moment later, the elders began tossing their torches, one-by-one, into the wood. Slowly, the fire grew as if it were reticent to touch the young man who was s
urrounded by the tinder it fed upon.
But before more than a handful of torches had reached their mark, Goldan stepped into the fray and shouted, “Stop this regrettable act before it is too late!” The Tsadal commander's voice rang out through the arena now filled with myriads of impassioned people. “This man is not worthy of death! He must be released!”
Goldan's words made Trycanor his undoubted enemy. The stage was now set for the two leaders to battle one another for the hearts and minds of the Tsadal multitudes. Goldan was the first one to act. Signaling the warriors, they moved forward to knock the burning wood away from the young Woodswane's body.
The Grand Inquisitor, stepping forward, shouted his reply, “Stop! Will you men resist the will of the elders?”
“The elders' will is divided, Trycanor!” Goldan's words unmasked the uncertainty surrounding this execution. “This man's judgment was carried by one vote! Look now! Only one-hundred-and-one elders stand in agreement with this tragic decision. There are ninety-nine others who are sitting among your ranks who are not convinced that this is the right thing to do.”
“Dear Tsadal! Listen to me!” Trycanor lifted the hammer to wrest the crowds' attention away from Jeaf's advocate. “The Book of Discernment teaches us that all matters shall be decided by the majority vote of the elders; these you see standing here represent that majority. There can be no further argument. The will of our father's is well known to everyone here. Do not challenge their wisdom!
“The whole reason we live is to make certain the heritage they gave us continues unchallenged and untainted by error. This man, who illegitimately claims to be the Hammer Bearer, has done these very things. Therefore, he must be cleansed for his crimes. And by this act of faith, on our part, Credylnor will be purified from the evil that he has brought with him.”
“Purified in the Fires of Cleansing? These words are no more than garnish on a bloody plate of slaughtered meat. This man is not being cleansed, he's being executed.” The commander's golden hair swept off his shoulders as he wheeled about to make eye contact with the masses sitting in the circular arena. “So, he claims to be Fane J'Shrym and the Hammer Bearer. What damage does that do to us? It doesn't harm a single hair on a Tsadal head.”
Pointing at Jeaf, he explained, “This man didn't come here of his own volition. He was forced to do so by my own hand, an act that I now regret having done. Listen to me! We won't win the hearts of Nyeg Warl's kingdoms to our way of life by using the point of the sword or the threat of death. Our fathers taught us this will only be accomplished when we deliver Nyeg Warl from a terrifying army of darkness, an army that is even now pouring out of the Isle of Regret. We won't save Nyeg Warl by executing those who don't fit into our mold. Rather, this will only be accomplished by displaying our courage in its defense when we follow the Hammer Bearer into battle. And where is the Hammer Bearer, seeing that the forces of wickedness have already arrived to fulfill their part in prophecy? The only one I know who is claiming to be the Promised One is this man here!”
Goldan leapt onto the stone and encouraged his men to continue dismantling the fuel before continuing. “We must let him live! If he really is the Hammer Bearer, and we have him killed, history won't record that the Tsadal people were those who liberated the warl from destruction. No! Because of our fear, we will be remembered as the very instrument that sealed her doom. If he isn't the Hammer Bearer, let him roam about claiming to be the Promised One, what is that to us? Will his boasts keep the true Hammer Bearer from arriving? I think not! So, stand back, for this man will not die today!”
Vibrating with rage, Trycanor realized Goldan was determined to circumvent the will of the elders. So, he lept up onto the stone, even as Jeaf was being escorted away in the protective custody of Goldan's warriors, and shouted, “Dear people, we must not bring into doubt our fathers' veracity! They have faithfully guided us up until now and will continue to do so in the future. We will cease to be a people, if we entertain even a single thought that says their council might not reflect the Singer's complete inerrant will. This man, who claims to be the promised one, must be expunged from the Warl less others fall under his evil spell as the Commander has. If we do not do this thing, the rebellion you have witnessed here today will spread like a disease through our valley and destroy the Tsadal way of life!”
Seeing Jeaf had been safely removed, Goldan replied, “I'm not saying we should discount our father's wisdom, nor cast off our Tsadal ways. I have risked my life for the Tsadal way of life more times than I care to remember and I'm ready to do so again. But all that I have done and all I have risked was fueled by the belief that I was fighting for truth. I have done this for so long I cannot do otherwise, though the truth I perceive differs, in part, with our fathers' teachings. But to say they were wrong in part doesn't mean their teachings are invalid.”
Tsadal people, listen to me!” Goldan's reputation kept the crowd at bay, for if it were not he who was speaking, none would be listening. “Our fathers did what they did and said what they said, because they believed it was the truth. They were pioneers who were willing to blaze new trails for us to follow. Why are we, who are their children, afraid to follow their example? Why are we afraid to be as bold as they once were? Could it possibly be that our unyielding defense of their ways and teachings has made us something they weren't? Have we now become those who, if our fathers were alive today, would resist their unabashed pursuit of the truth? Would we allow them to amend their teachings, those that time has proven are off the mark?
“They taught us that the Hammer Bearer would arrive in a time when a vast army of darkness was threatening to consume Nyeg Warl. They said he would be a Tsadal. What if they were wrong in assuming the Promised One would come from their own camp, but they were right about everything else? Can we adjust to this discrepancy without going to an extreme that either silences the facts that have emerged or completely casts off our fathers' wisdom.”
Goldan pointed to Jeaf and then to the hammer that Trycanor held as he concluded his defense. “Over there is a Fane J'Shrym who claims to be the Hammer Bearer. Here, in the Chief Elder's hand is his hammer. The war that will consummate the end of the age has arrived. Where then is the Tsadal who claims to be the Promised One who will lead us into battle against the tidal wave of darkness that is already washing over the Nyeg?”
Trycanor, like a bulldog guarding a bone, was not going to let Jeaf slip between his fingers. So, he decided that he must act boldly to champion the fathers' cause. Often, he had wondered if the Warl's Magic would call upon him, or one of his sons, to fulfill the role as the Hammer Bearer. This sense of destiny began to well up in Chief Elder's heart while the heat of dissention filled the Valley of the Tsadals as it never had before. He knew desperate times called for desperate measures. Besides, wasn't the hammer in his hand?
His whole life had been given to preserve the Tsadal way of life. He wasn't about to let some Woodswane diminish his labors, even in the minutest way. Hadn't he become the Chief Elder and Guardian of the Book of Discernment? Hadn't destiny dictated that he would be the Grand Inquisitor who ruled both the Baptismal Chamber as well as the Court of Recompense? Wasn't it also destiny that had this Woodswane deliver the hammer into his hands, a hammer whose magic vibrated in his arm?
The conclusion of this line of reasoning was sending a wave of excitement through his body. Yes, he thought. I must be the Chosen One! Now I see clearly! I am the Hammer Bearer who will lead the Tsadal armies on their crusade to free Nyeg Warl and usher in the Tsadal Age of Parm Warl.
It was all coming together in Trycanor's mind. Lifting the ruby-adorned hammer high over head, he shouted, “Goldan is wrong! The fathers were right! The Hammer Bearer is a Tsadal.”
The audience looked puzzled by the Chief Elder's words.
“I have just received a revelation that the Promised One stands in your midst this very day. He's the one whose hand destiny has seen fit to deliver the Hammer of Power.”
The Tsa
dal warriors and elders stood in hushed shock over what the Grand Inquisitor was about to say.
Seeing their dismay, Trycanor tried to soothe their fears. “Don't be afraid, My People! It's all clear to me now. I am the Hammer Bearer! I will lead the Tsadal armies forth to spread the glory of our ways into the confused and disheartened kingdoms of Nyeg Warl.”
Jeaf and the warriors protecting him couldn't believe what they heard coming out of the old man's mouth. But before anyone could respond to Trycanor's insane declaration, the Inquisitor shouted, “Behold the power of the hammer!” Swinging it over his head, he struck Vlad'War's Child against the stone that he and Goldan stood upon.
Instantly, a sound as loud as a thunder clap shook the Court of Recompense, throwing Goldan off the stone and out to where Jeaf stood. A blue flame, accompanying the resonating clap of thunder, engulfed the Grand Inquisitor as he shouted out in excitement over the magic that surrounded him. But his shouts soon turned into cries of terror as the flames began to burn him. In a twinkling of an eye, the blue flames devoured his garments, exposing the Inquisitor's frail nudity to all those present.
The sight of the old man being ravaged by the flames' power was more than the young Woodswane could bear to watch, so he turned his face away until he heard the hammer fall clanging upon the stone. When he finally turned to look, a pile of burnt ashes lay where the old man once stood.
Goldan, who had not flinched at the display of magic, regained his feet and went to pick up the hammer. Then going over to Jeaf, the Tsadal bowed his head and returned the Hammer of Power to the young Woodswane.
Chapter 27: The Road to Thundyrkynd
Two days later, Jeaf, Goldan and fifty warriors rode past the ferryboat that sat on the western banks of the Norstlyk River, leaving the Valley of the Tsadal gripped in the birth pangs of reexamining its view of itself and the warl it stood in. In the days since Trycanor's death, Goldan had relinquished the Tsadal armies to the capable leadership of Palanor, his second in command, so he could commit himself to serving the young Woodswane in his quest to undo the ancient evil that had lifted its horrific head above Nyeg Warl's landscape. The fifty Tsadal warriors, accompanying him and Jeaf, would only travel with them until the outskirts of Thundyrkynd came within sight.
