Burden of Stones

by James Dale

  "I don't think...no," Braedan whispered. "Judas Bloody Hell."

  "I didn't say those things to scare you lad," Malik smiled. "Turn the coin over and look at Deathbane's side. You have heard it called the Sword of Life?"

  "I have."

  "Ljmarn raised the dead with Sunheart. I'm not talking about something like what happened with the Galekindar at Tanaevar either. There one minute and gone the next. I still have no idea how you did that by the way. Regardless. It can raise the dead. I'm talking about warriors, cold and stiff, their blood already soaked into the ground around them. Deathbane can mend flesh, can make shattered bones whole, and can breathe life back into a man knocking on the doors of Heaven."

  "How?" Braedan asked. "How did he do it?" With the Sword of Life, he would never have to lose another Lion! No more Kaegel's. No more monuments lining the streets. Here was something he could finally use.

  "That I don't know," Malik shrugged.

  "But you said..."

  "I said I can tell you what Deathbane can do, not how it does it," the general replied. "Lords have been pondering the how for eight hundred years. They can't do it with their staffs, though they can do wondrous things. No one has ever wielded the Sword of Life but Ljmarn, and he didn't bother to pass that bit of information along, as far as I know. Unless you walk the Elohara again and ask him, I imagine you'll have to figure it out for yourself. Dragonslayer can't raise the dead. Nor can Grim-blade."

  "Jack," Malik sighed, "think about what Graith became with the Bloodstone in his hands. He was the next closest thing to Yh’gar walking the earth again. If Ljmarn and Sunheart hadn't stopped him, he would have become almost a god. Have you ever been told you how Ljmarn died?" he suddenly asked.

  "No," Braedan admitted. "I've never heard the tale."

  "Only Cilidon knows for sure," the general said quietly, "As far as I know, he's never spoken of it. The Staffclave knows. It's one of the last things they learn before being raised to full Lords. And they don't tell. But I've read things on Lordsisle, things an Adept had no business reading. And I can guess even more."

  "When Ljmarn died he was eighty-eight years old. For an Ailfar like Princess Ailicia, that’s barely grown, but for anyone not of that race it would be getting on in age. Ljmarn didn't look a day over thirty. In time, the Bloodstone would have made Graith a god. Sunheart would have done the same for Ljmarn. If he'd wanted, he could have lived for a thousand years. The world could have been his footstool. Can you imagine what that kind of power could do to a man? It wasn't by chance Yh’Adan placed the most powerful talisman ever created in his hands. When Ljmarn learned... discovered what he could become, was becoming, do you know what I he did?"

  "What?" Jack whispered.

  "He simply put Yhswyndyr aside. Rather than become a god, he gave up Sunheart, and he just...died," Malik said quietly. "None of the other Highswords possess such power. Ljmarn was given the Sword of Life, because he was the only man alive Yh’Adan could trust to choose to not become a god. Will you have the same strength when the time comes Jack Braedan? Power corrupts. Absolute power corrupts absolutely. Will you be strong enough to resist the temptation? Strong enough to set Deathbane aside and leave this world? Leave Annawyn?"

  "I...don't know," Braedan replied hesitantly. Annawyn was the only reason he cared anything about Yhswyndyr. He needed it to keep her safe. Once the Bloodstone was destroyed and it could trouble her or the world no longer, what would become of him? Power was like an addictive drug, easier to accept the more you used it, harder to give up when it became a way of life. He was already giving orders to kings and princes without a second thought, expecting his words to be taken as law. After he held the power of Sunheart in his hands, had been seduced by what he could do with the blade, would he be strong enough to throw away such power? Ljmarn had, and from what Malik had said, doing it had robbed him of his will to live. Could he make the same sacrifice? Even for Annawyn? He would gladly die for her, but if...if he became a god...would his feelings for her change?

  "I don't know," he sighed again.

  "I think you can," Malik replied. "But if the day comes, and you...you decide you'd rather be a live god than a dead hero, don't be surprised if the Staffclave makes the choice for you. It's their duty to protect the earth. From a darkness like Graith would bring, but also from any man who would be a god. Don't be surprised if they decide a god's place is in heaven, not on earth."

  "So, I'm dead either way? There's no hope for me no matter what I decide?"

  "There's always hope lad," Malik smiled. "If there's anyone alive who can figure out a how to live with Sunheart, or put it away without killing himself, I'm betting it'll be you. I'm betting Yh’Adan thinks the same way. That's why he made Aaracus wait so long to bring back an heir. He was just waiting on the right man for the job."

  "I hope you're right," Jack sighed. "I don't want to be a live god, or a dead hero."

  "Of course, I am," the general grinned. "Just ask Maadim. Well, you could if you hadn’t sent him away. Wait until we get to Lordsisle, they'll tell you...On second thought, better not ask any of the Lords, they're probably still pissed at me for...Of course I'm right. Why don't we go find something to drink? All this talking has made me thirsty."

  "That's the first thing usable thing you've said all day," Jack smiled. “What say we find Prince Kirstaen and see what the Annothians consider “strong” drink on their ships?”

  “I think you’ll like it,” Malik laughed. “It’s akin to mead, but twice as potent.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Leviathan

  Hours passed slowly aboard Muriel's Revenge. This time of year, the seas off southern Aralon were calm and peaceful. Early spring was the time of storms. In this part of the world, Aeralnen Widewater would remain a sailor's paradise until the beginning of fall. They would be long returned from Lordsisle before the storms came blowing again from the uncharted expanse of the west. A week from Yh's Finger and with still ten or twelve days until Lordsisle, Braedan would have actually welcomed the excitement of a bit of wind and rain. Riding upon the strong current of Erlik's Stream, Muriel's Revenge may as well have been a pleasure cruise.

  With no more stomach for Malik's dire instructions on Deathbane, Braedan sought out other things to occupy his time. Swordplay was his first diversion of choice, but after manhandling his way through Golden Lions, Ailfar Rangers and Dragon Guardsmen, everyone soon began to avoid him when he appeared on deck with Grimrorr in his hand. The only person onboard ship who would accept the challenge of the new Swordmaster after three days of this was Gain Ellgereth. Long ago it seemed now, at the reception for the Ljmarn Haelfest contestants in the Immer palace, a grizzled veteran had lamented the fact Gain wasn't competing. Braedan soon learned why.

  The White Horse Knight was a superior swordsman. He was certainly better than anyone he'd ever faced besides Kiathan. Perhaps he was even better than the former duke of Raashan. Though the only way Braedan could have fairly judged between them would be to actually fight the knight, not shuffle around the deck of Muriel's Revenge fencing. Barring some catastrophe however, that day would never come. Though their simulated battle did provide great amusement for the bored passengers. Led by a quickly recovering Erlwin, the swordsmen onboard Revenge took the opportunity to place a few wagers on their duel.

  "Come on my Lord," Cassy shouted disapprovingly. "This is embarrassing! You've been going at it for half an hour and you haven't even touched the boy!"

  "Boy?" Braedan grunted, parrying a daring thrust. Both he and Gain were wearing Ithlemere and using bare swords, Jack using Dorad’s sword since even Gain's Ithlemere could not withstand the edge of his Ailfar forged Grimrorr. With any other pair of swordsmen, such play would have been dangerous, but Braedan and Gain Ellgereth were too skilled to hurt each other by mere accident. The biggest danger would be a few painful bruises. If either man could slip his sword through his opponent's defenses. It remained to be seen.

  "Boy?" Gain shout
ed, then barely avoided a lightning riposte from Dorad's boyhood blade.

  "That's right! Boy!" Cassy snorted. It didn't take a genius to figure out where his money was wagered. "What are you doing here? Does your mama know you ran away from home?"

  "You're next old man!" Gain shouted with a grin.

  Braedan was laughing so hard it was all he could do to keep Gain's sword at bay. If he couldn't finish this quickly... if he...Something was suddenly very wrong. Darkness began to pound like a hammer behind his eyes. He slowly lowered his sword, but Gain hesitated to take advantage of the opening, suspecting he was being baited by the new Swordmaster.

  "My Lord! What are you doing?" Cassaban cried in disbelief. "You're not...you're flaming giving up!"

  "Now Sir Gain!" Arrgenn shouted, revealing where he'd placed his coin. "Just touch him!"

  "Quiet," Braedan hissed, the pain in his head now almost blinding. Whatever was causing it was coming closer. And fast!

  "Do it!" Dunnahel urged. "You don't have to..."

  "Quiet!" Braedan roared, stunning the onlookers to silence. It was almost here! He pushed his way through the confused circle of people who'd been watching the duel and ran to the ship's railing, first searching the dazzling blue sky then...the water! He suddenly knew without a doubt the danger he sensed rushing towards them was in the water! Beneath the water!

  "My Lord?" Cassy asked, his voice now full of concern, and not about his money. He didn't know what was wrong, but he knew trouble when he saw it. And he definitely saw it now.

  "Something's...out there," Jack hissed. "In the water."

  The words were no sooner out of his mouth when the deck beneath their feet shuddered.

  "What the..." It happened again.

  Everyone on the ship now had their own swords out, searching for the unseen threat. They were in Deep Ocean, with no possibility of running aground. Something...must have struck the ship. Something big enough to rattle Muriel's Revenge was something big!

  "Arrinor!"

  "I felt it too!" the Ailfar prince replied as he emerged on deck. He didn't mean the bump. Lady Ara’fael was at his side. The Spellweaver was encased in a glowing blue light and had a dangerous look on her face that made everyone, including the tough crew of the Annothian dreadnought, step back in fear.

  The pressure in Braedan's head was building to a painful climax, then just as suddenly as it had come upon him, it began fading away. Fading, fading, then gone. "What the hell was that?" he whispered, falling against the ship's railing as the passing of the darkness left him barely strong enough to stand.

  "I...I don't know," Arrinor replied quietly.

  "A whale?" someone suggested.

  "Whales don't swim Erlik's Stream this time of year," answered a seasoned sailor with a shake of his head.

  "And whales don't ram ships," Captain Anaekin said uneasily as he joined them. "Not even when you sail right through their breeding grounds."

  "Then what was it?" Jack demanded.

  "I can't say," Anaekin replied. Though he wasn't a Mindspeaker like Braedan or Arrinor, and hadn't sensed the wrongness they had, for some reason he appeared just as troubled.

  "Post lookouts along the railing," Braedan instructed him. His stomach still in knots even though the feeling of danger had vanished. "If anyone sees anything...unusual, I want to know about it yesterday."

  "Aye, Lord," the captain saluted, and turned to begin issuing orders.

  "Stay Captain Anaekin," Braedan said, laying a hand on the Annothian's arm.

  "Sir?" Anaekin asked.

  "We need to talk."

  "As you command," the captain nodded. He called over Fors Egaellsonn, Muriel's Revenge first mate, and relayed Braedan's instruction to his officer then waited on Ljmarn's Heir.

  When only Anaekin, Arrinor and the Lady Ara’fael stood at the railing with him, Braedan explained why he'd asked the captain to stay. "You said you can't say captain, not you didn't know."

  "I have a suspicion, nothing more," the Annothian replied hesitantly. "There is an ancient legend..."

  "Stop," Ara’fael interrupted sharply. "We should move somewhere with fewer ears," she ordered, though no one was within thirty feet of them.

  Braedan opened his mouth to question the Spellweaver, but the look she gave him caused it to close with a snap. Once bitten, twice shy. Ljmarn's Heir or not, he had learned with Ara’fael you did what she said with a “yes ma'am” and were quick about it. Being something as inconsequential in her eyes as the claimant to Yhswyndyr certainly wasn't enough to spare him from her sharp tongue. He followed the Ailfar without a word. When they had retired to the quarters the Spell-weaver shared with Princess Ailicia, he finally felt confident enough to speak, though he was still the picture of humility.

  "Lady Ara’fael," he ventured quietly, "you know what struck the ship."

  "I fear I do," she nodded. "If you felt the same darkness as Arrinor."

  "I did," Jack shuddered.

  "Would you like me to tell him?" Ara’fael asked, turning to Captain Anaekin.

  "I am a sailor not a storyteller," Muriel's Revenge commander replied. "There is likely much I do not know about the beast. Or know wrongly."

  "Would one of you please tell me?" Jack sighed. "Before it comes back?"

  "Lady Ara’fael," the captain deferred.

  "It is called Rhondiayna," the Spellweaver said quietly.

  "Rhond? Great?" Braedan struggled to translate the unfamiliar word. It was Ailfar, but a form he could not quite grasp. "What is Iayna? Snake?"

  "Serpent," Ara’fael nodded. "Rhondiayna means Great Serpent. Leviathan in the common tongue."

  "What is it?" asked Jack.

  "Leviathan is not it," the Ailfar replied. "Leviathan is who. Leviathan was Hae’adan. During the First War of the Stones," she explained, "the Arch-angel Hae’adan sided with Yh’gar and became his greatest captain. He was as strong, if not stronger, than the other archangels. Hae’adan, in old Ailfara, translates as 'Prince.' Hae’adan was the Prince of Heaven. He was the father of the first Jahrkirin. He came to be only a step below Yh’gar in power. And in evil.

  'When the First War of the Stones ended after Yh’Adan was raised, Yh’gar was bound with chains and caste into Ul'gogrond. The Seven were banished with their master, but remained prisoners only because they were bound to the Bloodstone. Hae’adan...suffered another fate. Yh'Adan transformed him into a...sea creature and made the ocean his prison. You might ask why he was not banished to Ul'gogrond with the other demons? I cannot say. The Creator's thoughts are higher than our thoughts, His ways higher than our ways. Legend says Leviathan…Hae’adan... Prince of the Air,” had a beautiful pair of wings and could fly from one end of the Earthe to the other in a single hour. Perhaps it is why, I think, he was punished for his rebellion against the Most High by being sentenced to live for eternity in the total darkness of the crushing depths of the ocean, his bed a sediment of mud, his food the cold fish of the sea.

  "It was the end of his tale for countless centuries. Hae’adan faded into legend and Leviathan faded into myth. Then the Bloodstone rose from the belly of the earth, vomited to the surface by the force of Yh’gar's hate to torment the Children of Yh once more. With a new master wielding the stone, Leviathan remembered his past glory, how far he had fallen, and slithered up from his dark, watery prison to reap what vengeance it could. Many ships were lost mysteriously during the Second War of the Stones without a trace. King Muriel and the Highsword Seaguarder disappeared in this same manner. It is believed by many...Lords of the Staffclave and others as well, King Muriel fell in battle against Leviathan. For it was the purpose Yh’Adan fashioned Seaguarder. To oppose Rhondiayna."

  "Do you think he's back?" Braedan asked. "With Graith awake again?"

  "If you and Arrinor felt what I imagine you did? Yes," Ara’fael nodded.

  "Okay," he sighed heavily, "What do we do?"

  "What can we do?" Ara’fael shrugged. "Seaguarder failed to destroy Leviathan, an
d we have no talisman with a fraction of the strength of a Highsword. Only your Grimrorr or Thonicil’s Talon would be lucky to even pierce its hide. A single Spellweaver will be like throwing pebbles at a dragon. The only thing we can do is make best speed to Lordsisle and hope he has no knowledge of who sails aboard Muriel's Revenge. Or...we will most likely be added to the list of mysterious disappearances."

  The mood of the crew as Braedan and Captain Anaekin emerged from Ara’fael's quarters was one of nervous watchfulness. Though they did not realize the full extent of the danger their ship faced, the troubled look of their captain as he ordered crews to man the borelstrades around the clock, in addition to doubling the number of lookouts, was enough to convince them it was no small threat. If any of them connected the old legend of Leviathan with the unseen thing which had struck their ship, they kept the suspicion to themselves. It was simply too frightening to voice aloud.

  Braedan held no similar qualms about sharing what he had learned. He called Tarsus, Malik, Captain d'Kenna and Sir Gain to his quarters and quietly informed them of the danger.

  "Leviathan," Malik whispered. "This...this isn't good."

  "Sea monsters," Tarsus muttered, "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised with you onboard, Jack."

  "What are we going to do, High Prince?" Captain d'Kenna asked quietly.

  "Make full speed to Lordsisle," Braedan replied. "It probably wouldn't hurt to pray either."

  He sought out Arrinor after informing the others, finding him alone at the bow of the ship, staring out to sea. "Arri," he said quietly, "you've been a Mindspeaker longer than I've been alive. Is there...is there some way I can shut Leviathan out of my head?"

  "You mean you do not know how to shield against him?" the Ailfar prince asked, taken aback.

  "I can shield my own thoughts," Jack nodded. "I can tune out Eaudreuil, well, most of the time anyway, but...but his mind was so strong. It felt like my brain was trying to escape from my eye sockets."