by James Dale
“I saw...what you did,” she replied, her anger for the moment giving way to…fear? Fear of him? Her fear of him was even more heartbreaking than her rage. He knew her fear was also a lingering taint of the Sa’tan. If he hoped to reach her, fear of him would have to go first. “I saw you on the beach,” her anger flared again. Suddenly, there was a dagger in her hand. “In Ailicia’s bed! Betrayer! Adulterer!”
“Anna,” Jack said softly. “If you truly believe I have betrayed our love,” he willed his armor to disappear in the wink of an eye. He took his hands he ripped open his shirt, baring his chest. “Strike now and end my life. Better still,” he continued. The dagger in her hand became Yhswyndyr. It was only a dream representation of the Highsword, but here, in the Land of Dreams, summoned by his will, it would serve the same purpose. “Use it. Burn my soul from existence. Without you as my wife, without your love, I don’t want to live in this life, or the next.”
Jack knew the risk he was taking. He had come to the Land of Dreams waking. If he died here, he would die in the real world as well. Though Anna was not here bodily, the result would be the same. The enraged Horsemaiden looked at the sword. Fire sprang along its length. She raised the Yhswyndyr above her head.
“Strike, Beloved. My life is yours to save or damn as you please,” Jack whispered, and closed his eyes, willing to risk his life, risk the very fate of Aralon, maybe creation itself, on his love for her. Annawyn howled with rage and swung. He heard the blade whistle through the air. Then nothing. He slowly opened his eyes. Anna was on her knees in front of him. She’d driven Yhswyndyr a foot into the soft earth of the Greenrun.
“I hate you,” she snarled, the words vomited out like bile.
“I love you,” Jack countered softly, his words full of gentleness and warmth.
“How could you betray me?” she wailed. Her anger flared like an exploding sun, white hot and furious, then it was suddenly gone, replace solely by pain and heartbreak.
“How could I betray you?” asked Jack. Yhswyndyr disappeared, leaving nothing between them. “You are a part of me.”
“The things I saw?” For the first time, there was confusion in her eyes. Jack could see the sickness of her soul dissipating, like a fever finally beginning to break after a long illness. “They were lies?” Doubt had crept into her voice.
“Shadows and twisted dreams,” Jack replied. “Meant to exploit our weaknesses, our fears, and drive us apart.”
“I have lost you!” she wept, slumping forward.
Jack reached out to Sunheart as he caught her, he pulled Anna waking into the Land of Dreams. “You could never lose me,” he whispered, hugging his wife tightly. “You are a part of me. You are the blood in my veins, the breath of my lungs, you are the light of my soul.”
As Anna wept into his shoulder, Jack could feel the darkness crawling over her flesh like a serpent. He held her, willing away the taint of the Lord of Shadow’s influence with the love flowing through him. The evil banished at last with a power stronger even than Sunheart, Anna shuddered. She lifted her head from his shoulder and looked at him.
“Jack?” she asked.
“You are safe,” he smiled, wiping away the tears from cheeks.
“I had not…heard from you in days!” she said. “I thought…I thought you were dead! He said you were dead. I was lost in despair. I wept and wept. I had…foul dreams. Dreams of you. Dreams of…of him! He taunted me. And when he was finished taunting…he whispered, things to the emptiness of my soul…”
“Hush,” Jack said quietly, and kissed her forehead. “There will be no more lies, no more taunts or whispers. The Lord of Shadow is bound again. Sunheart has barred Graith from the Land of Dreams.”
“I saw…” Anna whispered, slowly remembering. “You have Yhswyndyr? I saw you…You went to…to…”
“I did,” Jack nodded. “Whatever evil still remains on the earthe, at least that part will trouble us no more.”
“What happens now?” she asked.
‘What happens now, indeed,’ he thought. Now comes the hard part. “Anna…”
“You have to go back?” she said softly.
“I have to go back to Lordsisle,” he nodded. “Graith will be moving soon. And you have to go back as well. Doridan must be ready when I return. I have the Lady Ara’fael, and the entire Lords of the Staffclave at my beck and call,” Jack assured her. “I promise, my trip home will not take quite as long as getting there.”
Anna nodded, knowing he spoke the truth. “Jack, I’m so sorry I doubted you,” she said, new tears coming. “How could you still love me when…”
Jack pulled her to him and kissed his wife.
“Go,” she said breathlessly, finally pushing him away. “Another minute in your arms and I will forget my duty. I have much to do.” She was once again the Queen of Doridan, with a kingdom to ready for battle. With a last, longing look, she began to fade.
“Wait!” Jack cried. “Dorad is alive. He is on Lordsisle!”
But Anna was gone. Whether she heard his last words or not, he couldn’t tell. Well, he could tell her the good news tomorrow night, and he could tell her he loved her every night until he held her in his arms again, with the Land of Dreams was cleansed. Jack stood, Yhswyndyr appearing unbidden in his hand. Summoning Sunheart once more, he whispered a single word.
“Lordsisle.”
Chapter Nineteen
Let’s Get this War Started
Jack’s eyes snapped open and he gasped for breath like a drowning man breaking the surface of a dark lake. Dorad recoiled with an involuntary curse. Tumbling backwards in his chair, he crashed to the floor. He recovered quickly though, and was up in an instant, rushing to his friend’s side.
“Jack! You scared the flaming life out of me!”
“What time is it?” asked Braedan wearily. His entire body felt stiff and logarithmic. Like he was recovering from some long illness.
“What time is it?” Dorad cried. “What time is it? We have been trying to wake you for three flaming days! The Staffclave has tried every resurrection conjuring and magik written down since the dawn of time! I think the Lady Ara’fael even invented a few more.”
The door to his room burst open and Captain d’Kenna entered, sword drawn, alarmed at the ruckus Dorad was raising.
“Go fetch High Lord Perigaen,” Dorad informed the Immerman, “The High King is awake.”
“Is…is he well?” the Hammer’s captain asked. d’Kenna had been beside himself with worry during the entire ordeal. To finally have a High King to serve, then to be helpless to do nothing more than watch his catatonic body as the Lords tried to revive him after his dream battles, it had been almost more than the knight could bear.
“Go man!” Dorad commanded. “And fetch Lord Farra as well!”
d’Kenna left with a bow as Jack digested his friend’s words. Three days? He’d been out for three days? No wonder his body ached. His hands still held Yhswyndyr’s hilt, fingers stiff and locked in place like a rigor mortis death grip. For a moment they wouldn’t let go, then his knuckles popped and cracked like snapping wood and Jack could lay Yhswyndyr aside. “Is that water over there?” he asked wearily, inclining his head toward a pitcher sitting on a nearby table. “Help me up. I feel like my mouth is full of ashes.”
“Little wonder,” Dorad replied, moving quickly to assist him. “You’ve been to the under-world and back.”
“So you know?” he asked. But it has been his intent hadn’t it? Apparently it had worked.
“The whole flaming world knows,” Dorad informed him as helped his friend from the bed. “Half the Staffclave acts as if the war is already won, while the other half plots on how to control the man who defeated the Lord of Shadows and chased all the monsters from their dreams. You look like hell by the way,” he added as he guided Jack by the arm towards the water. “No offense intended.”
“None take….” Jack stopped in shock when he saw himself in the polished mirror hanging above the basin
. Like hell? He looked like he had aged ten years! His face was drawn and weathered. There were streaks of grey in his hair and beard. His green eyes were tired and weary, haunted, as if he’d seen more of the dark than any man should. Was this the result of his battle of wills with the Sa’tan and cleansing the Land of Dreams? Or was it what Gaebrel warned him about, ‘Do not draw too much power.’
“Heal yourself.”
Jack didn’t know if Yhswyndyr had actually spoken to him or if he was hearing, sensing what he needed to do, but he reached out to Sunheart just the same. Although it was laying across the room, the power instantly responded to his call. He drew just a small portion, ‘not too much,’ and dipped his hands in the water pitcher. He splashed his face a few times then looked in the mirror again. The added years and the grey had vanished. He looked refreshed and rested. He felt the same way. All the stiffness, aches and weariness were gone.
“Flaming hell!” Dorad whispered at his reflection. “Are you a sorcerer now as well?”
“I’m hungry is what I am,” Jack realized. Could Yhswyndyr cure an empty stomach? “What time is it? You didn’t answer me before. Too early for some wine?”
“I think I’m going to need something stronger to drink than wine,” his friend sighed.
“How about we wait on those drinks for the time being?” High Lord Perigaen suggested, entering the room. Lord Farra followed behind him. When she looked at Jack her face paled and he realized his “you look like hell”...condition…hadn’t been a secret among the Lords. “It seems your services are not required after all Lord Farra.” The High Lord said, regarding Braedan curiously.
“You can come back and check on me later,” Jack suggested. “In case this doesn’t take.”
Lord Farra turned and fled.
“Leave us Prince Dorad,” Perigaen said, looking at Jack intently. “I would speak with the High King.”
“Of course,” Dorad bowed.
“Dorad, before you go,” Jack said, stopping him friend. “Gather the Ailfar, and Tarsus, Thonicil, and…On second thought, round up everyone. I’ll meet with them in an hour in the Lord’s council chamber.”
“Go on,” Perigaen nodded, when the young man hesitated. “Have Lords Dhoran, Wiegl, Faendil join them as well. Lord Farra too. Just in case.”
“So,” Jack said, when Dorad departed and he and the High Lord were alone. “In which camp do you reside, High Lord? The side who thinks the war is already won or the side who plots to control me?”
“I am of the camp who is relieved you are finally awake,” Perigaen replied simply. “The camp who only wishes the High King would think and act more…cautiously while he learns how to use the power Yhswyndyr offers. I am also the leader of the camp who wishes he would consult with the Staffclave before doing something as reckless as rushing off to Ul’gogrond to battle the Lord of Shadows.”
“Anna is safe now,” Jack shrugged. “What’s done is done. If I promised you I’ll try and stick to my more…normal…recklessness in the future, would it easy your worry?”
“It would be a start, High King,” Perigaen nodded. “It would certainly make living with the Lady Ara’fael more pleasant.” He smiled.
“Yeah,” Jack smiled slowly. “I imagine she is probably a little…upset with me?”
“You have a talent for understatement Jack Bra’Adan,” the High Lord remarked dryly. “If you can, I would avoid Ara’fael for the time being. Some of the things she called you? I think perhaps she was trying to wake you just for the pleasure of throttling the life from you herself. On a lighter note, did I hear you mention something about being hungry? Or is it only liquor you require after facing both the dark-King and the Lord of Shadow within a span of days?”
“Something a little stronger to drink than water would be nice with…breakfast?”
“No.”
“Lunch?”
The High Lord shook his head.
“With supper then,” Jack sighed. “Facing the Lord of Shadow is thirsty work.” He turned to retrieve Yhswyndyr but realized he didn’t have a sheath for the blade. He didn’t feel like walking around the keep with the Highsword in his hands, but should he leave it unattended?
“Leave it,” Perigaen said, apparently sensing his dilemma. “The blade protects itself and you will be safe enough with me for company.”
Jack looked at him with uncertainty. “Unless, you cannot part yourself from Sunheart?” the High Lord asked with raised eyebrow.
“I…don’t know,” Jack replied hesitantly. “It hasn’t left my side since I drew it.”
“Let us see then, shall we?” Perigaen suggested, taking him by the arm. He stopped and had a word with Captain d’Kenna as they exited his chamber. “Have someone fetch the sheath Chief Armorer Matthias found for Yhswyndyr yesterday,” he informed the Hammer’s captain. “In case.” He said, turning to Jack.
“Yes High Lord,” d’Kenna nodded, but fell in behind them as they began to walk.
“Immediately captain,” Perigaen said, over his shoulder. “We are only going to the kitchen. The High King will be safe until you return.”
“As you wish,” d’Kenna bowed.
“Shall we walk and talk?” the High Lord asked. Not waiting for a reply, he resumed their journey.
“Is this to be a private conversation?” Braedan asked.
“I would hear first-hand how you repaired the Word and cleansed the Land of Dreams,” Perigaen nodded. “Without other ears around. I am not so…concerned with the power you have gained so suddenly as some others.” He added. “Yh waited seven hundred years to provide a bearer for Yhswyndyr, I have faith in his judgement of you.”
“But others?”
“Are pleased with the results, but terrified at their…ease?” Perigaen suggested.
“There was none of it easy, High Lord,” Jack sighed. “You saw how it left me. And Long Tooth is…gone.”
“I misspoke,” the High Lord replied. “Ailicia informed me of your Wolf-brother’s sacrifice. I grieve for your loss. The wolf was a valuable ally. Strange to say it out loud. It seems the status of the packs is but one more thing the Staffclave needs to re-evaluate. Along with your swift bonding with Sunheart.”
“So Ljmarn took a bit longer?” Jack inquired.
“Once again, your talent for understatement is revealed,” Perigaen nodded. “To put it simply, yes. You’ve read the histories I take it?” He didn’t wait for Jack’s reply. “Then you know it was months after he was gifted with Yhswyndyr before he felt confident enough to even venture beyond Dorshev’s wall to break the siege and was almost a year before he headed east. By then…”
As they turned a corner in the hallway they encountered a pair of Lords and Perigaen immediately grew silent. Jack recognized them both but couldn’t recall their names at the moment. Both Lords bowed deeply as they passed. He didn’t need to speculate in which camp the pair belonged. The look of fear on their faces when they regarded him was painfully visible to see.
“By then Amar and Arkhand were ashes,” Jack continued, when they were again alone in the corridor. “Yes, I’ve read the histories on the Second War. One by Ljmarn himself. He didn’t bother to mention how quickly he…bonded with Sunheart during the Elohara. Neither did he hint at the extent of his power. Speaking of Ljmarn’s delay. I take it Tarsus, or Thonicil most likely, has already told you I what I plan to do now?”
“A plan you formulated even before drawing Yhswyndyr,” Perigaen nodded. “Whether reckless or bold depends on upon its success I suppose. I agree with if it, if it matters?”
“It doesn’t, but I’m pleased to hear you say it,” Jack replied.
“We are here,” Perigaen announced as they arrived at the kitchen. As they entered, cooks and servants stopped their work and bowed. If they recognized Jack, they concealed it well. The bows were for the High Lord. “We are going to dine in private,” Perigaen informed the head cook. “See no one disturbs us. Even the Princess Ailicia. I am sure she’ll be alon
g shortly when she learns we are here.”
“Yes High Lord,” the cook bowed. “We are making roast chicken tonight. It will be ready shortly.”
“That sounds wonderful,” Jack nodded, his stomach rumbling loudly.
“I will select your portion personally, Highness,” he bowed.
So they did recognize him after all.
“And some wine while we wait?” asked Jack hopefully.
“A bottle and two glasses,” Perigaen added. “The Surcca Valley I think? 780 if we still have some?”
“Excellent choice, High Lord,” the cook bowed again.
Perigaen led him to a small, but comfortable dining room, and they waited in silence until the wine was delivered. “So tell me everything,” he said to Braedan, as the cook departed and he began pouring the wine. “Leave nothing out. Not the smallest detail. The more I know the extent of your bonding with Yhswyndyr, the better I will be able to…advise you.”
“As you wish, High Lord,” Jack nodded.
Braeden told him everything, from the moment he stepped into the Land of Dreams until he had awakened in his room. He stopped only when their dinner was delivered, and continued after he’d eaten his fill. When he was finished with his tale, the bottle was empty. The High Lord sat in silence for a moment, swirling the last sip of wine in his glass.
“How much power did you drawn from Sunheart to cleanse the Land of Dreams?” he finally asked.
“As much as was needed?” Jack shrugged. “I cannot honestly say. Sometimes…it just knows, how much I need? The first time, when I went to Gorthiel, I never gave it conscious thought. I just acted and Yhswyndyr provided. It was the same with repairing the Word. To cleanse the land of dreams…I think, maybe I drew in as much as it was willing to give.”
“Willing to give? You speak as if Yhswyndyr is sentient,” Perigaen said thoughtfully.
