The Bellringer

by William Timothy Murray

  O, Blindness of the Night,

  Thou Lord of the Shadow Legions,

  Drinker of Nightmare, Crusher of Bones,

  Thy command is nigh upon completion. I am nigh upon he whom thou sent me to discover and soon he will be brought to thee by my hand. Though thy reason for desiring him is yet a mystery to me, I obey, and will protect him from all until he is before thee. Watch for us at the melting of the snows.

  Thy Servant,

  Bailorg.

  "May the stars preserve us!" Billy uttered, sitting down heavily on a bench.

  Robby looked up from the paper and saw the aghast faces before him.

  "What? What is it?"

  "Yer voice, that's what!" Billy exclaimed. "I never heard such a sound!"

  "You just read from a letter written in the First Tongue, Robby," Ashlord said. "A message conveying evil intent. That tongue cannot be uttered by any except those who were here from the beginning. But, when uttered, it is understood by all who hear it, with the full intent of the words."

  Robby shook his head, confused. Suddenly, the parchment he held began to smoke.

  "Throw it away!" cried Ullin stepping forward.

  "Whoa!" Robby cried dropping it onto the table as it burst into flame. In a flash of yellow light and black smoke it burned away to nothing, not even ash, leaving the letters that were written on it squirming around in confusion, hiding into cracks in the table and leaping off the side onto the floor. Mirabella and Sheila leapt out of their chairs and backed away with Robby as the letter-creatures disappeared into various cracks in the floorboards like tiny insects scurrying away from sudden light. A scent of sulfur lingered in the air, and all remained still with Robby looking at Ashlord and the others, who returned his confused gaze with confused looks of their own. Sheila slowly nodded her head, as if some unspoken question had been answered for her. Billy had his mouth open, and, when Robby looked at him, he saw surprise and bewilderment in his eyes. Ullin tilted his head, and, though Robby could not read his face, his brow was furrowed with concern. His mother looked at her feet, where the last of the bug-like letters had escaped through a small knothole in the floor. The fireplace crackled loudly and sprang back to life, the lamps seemed to give better light, and a dreamy atmosphere settled upon the room. Ashlord looked at Robby with clear sympathy, a sad smile upon his lips.

  "You speak the First Tongue," he said. "A language that few know, not even I, but all understand. Parchment cannot bear the power of being read aloud, the very letters written become as living beings, as you saw. It is a living language, and may only be borrowed. It gives itself only to those who were here first on this earth, and those most closely connected to it."

  "You have spoken that tongue to me," Sheila said softly. "We talked about it. Except the sound was different."

  "Because the spirit of what Robby had to say was different," nodded Ashlord.

  Then Ashlord looked at Mirabella, who was as pale as a living human could be, and, if her expression could be described, it was one part terror and the other part deep sadness. She stared at the coarse grain of the floor, her hair hanging about both sides of her bowed face, shielding it from the view of the others (who were, anyway, still gaping at Robby) so that they could not see the tears falling from her eyes and landing as glittery splotches on the floor about her feet. Ashlord's heart broke for her. He saw that she knew what this meant, what all the signs meant, and though Ashlord needed no further confirmation of his recent suspicions, those tears granted him the final proof of the theory that had slowly formed in his mind over the past months since the Bell was rung.

  "What does it all mean?" asked Robby.

  "It means you are coming of age, my boy," Ashlord said. "And that, someday, you may be King."

  "King?" Billy cried, "We've already been through that—"

  "Yes, King," Ashlord said, cutting Billy off. "That is why Bailorg was sent, though he did not know it. His mission was to discover who would ring the Great Bell of Tulith Attis, yes, and to bring to his master the one who threatens to reveal his identity. But it so happens that the Bellringer, the one who may reveal the traitor of Tulith Attis, is also the one who may discover the name of the King, and so become King himself. Do you not know the old rhyme?

  All the world shall know his might,

  Every land in dark and light.

  Faere and Mortal a friend shall find,

  Who looks upon the heart and mind.

  Hope's lost dream he shall defend,

  Arriving at long ages' end,

  To cause all bells on earth to ring,

  The Hidden One who shall name the King."

  Mirabella sat back down, her hands flat on the table, her head still bowed.

  "But none can name the King whose name is known," Ullin repeated Billy's earlier argument.

  "That is true. But we do not know Robby's name, only what he has been called by his parents," Ashlord stated.

  "What?" Robby cried out, looking at his mother. She looked up at him and nodded, glistening tracks crossing down her cheeks.

  "I am sorry," she said, smiling even though a sob cracked her voice as she reached out for him. Taking his hand, she looked into his confused face as he sat beside her, and she tried to smile again.

  "You are my son," she said to him, pushing a curl from his brow as if he was a little boy. "And you are the son of your father. It is true, what Ashlord says. You were named in the Old Way, and not even I know your true name. No one knows from where the next Unknown King may come, but it is said he will be friend to both Men and Elifaen, as in the rhyme. So, accordingly, an offspring of the two races is taken to a dying elder for naming. Your father honored the old ways by allowing this. When my time to bear you neared, we traveled to your father's grandfather who had been ailing for many weeks and who lived in a small cottage near to Boskland. There we stayed, my time growing nearer and your great grandfather growing weaker. You were born there. A few weeks after your birth, as your great grandfather's health rapidly failed, you were taken to him in his deathbed. We asked your great grandfather to name you and to give you your name by saying it thrice to you. Your father and I left you alone with him. Later, when we looked in on the two of you, we found you swaddled in the arms of your great grandfather, who had died. He held, too, a note, written by him, saying, 'It is done.' "

  "So your name is known only to the departed," Ashlord said. "You are indeed the Hidden One that Queen Serith Ellyn foresaw. I think she knew it was you, though there was another that some suspected."

  Ashlord turned his gaze to Ullin, who had his hand on the mantel and was now looking deep into the fire. Turning to face them, Robby thought him to be a noble figure, far more suited to be a king than himself, who knew nothing of the world and was merely a clerk.

  "Truly, I am relieved it is not I," Ullin said. "My true name, too, was given to me by a passing relative, and, like you, Robby, I do not know it. As Mira said, it is the way of my family." Turning to Ashlord he said, "Yet I am not destined to become Elifaen. And I am glad that I am not destined to be king."

  "I'm not, either!" Robby stated. "And I have no wish to be a king. I know nothing about such things. I know little enough about this realm, much less those others now at war. My home is Passdale and my land is Barley, and now they are overtaken by the Redvests. It is with them that I have business, not with Duinnor!"

  "Well said, my son," Mirabella told him. "But if I understand things rightly, it is with Duinnor that the Redvests ultimately seek to contend. Not only do they seek possession of these realms, but also to have dominion over all the realms." She looked at Ashlord and continued. "Can there be no way from it?"

  Ashlord shook his head slowly.

  "I'm afraid we must each make our own decisions," he said to Robby. "I can but advise you and help you as I may. You are not safe here. Your identity is safe with us, but the Sun King and the Lord King of Duinnor and the traitor of Tulith Attis all seek you. If the Redvests learn of you, they, t
oo, will place a price on your head. The King sees the end of his days coming, and he will do anything to forestall it. Other attempts have been made on his throne during the long centuries he has reigned, and all before he has thwarted. He knows there is only one way for him to thwart this one. That is to kill the one who might take his place, and all those who may aid the upstart. If he cannot do it himself, he will send his agents. He is not above using those of his enemies, either. And if all fails, he has the armies of many realms sworn to his service." Ashlord glanced at Ullin, who was nodding as if coming to some understanding within himself. "And there is One other whose name is rarely heard but in tales. His aims are dark beyond scrutiny, as is his nature. He is patient. He has waited since before the days of the First Age, and he waits still. He knows Duinnor is weak and wishes it to become weaker. He plays every part against every other part, and desires that no new King come to rekindle the glory of the west. His ways are subtle, yet his agents walk in every land, serving him unwittingly or knowingly, and are with every court and with every people. Whatever Duinnor learns, he will learn. Whatever the Dragonfolk know, he will soon know as well. You must decide what to do."

  "You speak of Secundur, the Lord of Shadow," Ullin said softly. "He who brought about the Fall of the Faere."

  "Yes, Secundur."

  "Then our enemies are dreadful, indeed."

  "Aye, and whilst they may be set against one another, they but play at the end of strings they cannot see, tugged to their doom by a shadowed hand."

  "So what you are saying is that I may become King, but I don't have to become King. Is that right?" Robby asked.

  "I cannot make the decision for you," Ashlord said. "There are many ways you could fail, if you tried to become King. But, yes, you may try to become King, or you may turn away. Either road is fraught with danger, and whether you become King or not, your way will be difficult. Your choice will mean the changing of you. Either way, you will be tried and tested. And you may not survive."

  "This is too much!" Billy exclaimed. "A king! Not just any king, neither. THE King. Ruler of the Seven Realms. Lord of Duinnor, the most mightiest an' powerfullest of any! If Robby becomes King of Duinnor, he can send armies to take back Barley. Why, he'd be able to set things straight!"

  "Aye, your power to do good will be matched only by your power to do evil," Ullin put forth.

  "It is true," Ashlord nodded. "You would be able to do a great many things, according to your desire, whether good or not so good."

  Robby thought about this for a moment, then said, "If Tracia succeeds, then Duinnor will fall, and there will be no new King at all and no realm to rule! And Secundur? The very name fills me with dread! What can we do against such powers? Meanwhile, there are our people that need caring for, and many who are prisoners of the Redvests. I must do something to help! If I leave, what can I do?"

  "It may be enough for you to just stay alive," Mirabella said. "If staying here puts you in danger, then you must go."

  "But whar to?" Billy asked. "Anywhar ye go, them agents Ashlord told of is bound to find out an' foller."

  "Glareth by the Sea would be the safest place," Sheila said. "Did you not say that was where Queen Serith Ellyn went? Surely if she is safe there, you will be, too."

  "For a time, perhaps," Ashlord said. "But how long can you stay even in Glareth before being found out? Your enemies have vast resources of gold and silver, titles of land, and many other things that may tempt your friends and even members of your own family. And can you live your life in hiding, year after year, thinking each moment could be your last?"

  "We'd never betray Robby!" Billy said, indignant at the notion.

  "No?" Ashlord said, putting his walking stick back against the column and taking out his pipe. As he loaded it, he spoke. "Then what of your duty and allegiance to your present King? Would you betray one to stand loyal to the other? Some of you here have taken oaths to serve the King without question. Will you break your oath? And if you do, what good would your word be to a New King? Who will you choose to dishonor?"

  Ashlord's eyes fell upon Ullin, the Kingsman, who stood now sternly at the fire, his arms crossed over his chest and his head down. When he raised his face to the others, it was filled with determination.

  "True enough. I have sworn an oath to protect and serve the throne," he said. "To show no mercy to the enemies of Duinnor. Presently there is a king on that throne, and I serve him. I do not know how I would act if commanded to betray my kinsman, here, but I would sooner die than to see harm come to Robby. This I swear to you all: I pledge my protection, such as it is, over Robby, son of Robigor. If he is to be King, I will then give him any pledge he demands of me. Until then, no one will learn from me who he is."

  Billy got up and walked over to Robby and held out his hand.

  "I reckon I'm the Master of Boskland, now," Billy said to Robby. "An' I give ye me word upon me ol' man's ashes, I'll stand with ye."

  Robby awkwardly shook Billy's hand, then sat down at the far end of the table and did not return the gaze of those around him. He seemed even to ignore them, or at least not to notice that they, like he, looked inward at their own thoughts. Instead, he stared at the table, his hands spread out, intent upon the grain of the wood beneath his fingers.

  "It doesn't sound like I have much choice," Robby said, looking up at last. "I am too ignorant of the world and of things in general to be King, yet that way seems the only hope of protecting those I hold truest and most dear to me. I must do something. Can I turn my back on my homeland? Yet what hope do I have, truly, of becoming King? My ignorance is too great!"

  "Ignorance has never been a stumbling block to those who seek power," Ashlord stated. "Even so, there are many who are trustworthy and who may teach and counsel you. In this room, you have the beginnings of learning. Sheila and Billy, here, are your friends and through them you have already learned much of what is most important in life. Your father has also taught you much, too, for it is widely known that he values fairness and honesty above silver and gold, and you yourself are a credit to him. Your mother, Ullin, and I may teach you other things that you are needful of, each of us to our own ways of knowledge. All these things are important, and they will serve you well in your dealings with the problems of leadership, whether you become King or not. And there is the rub, for to escape the claws of your enemies, you must use all of your cunning and craft, all of your knowledge and skill, and all of your heart and might and mind. For your enemies will not be restrained from using theirs against you!"

  "But there is so little time!" Robby said. "If what you say is true, war will soon tear apart the Seven Realms. Armies are on the march, and Duinnor is too weak to resist. If the Dragonkind take the lands to the west, how will the eastern lands fare? The might of Tracia will be unopposed, and, even if they leave in the spring, they will surely be back."

  "Glareth, at least, will surely oppose the Redvests," Ullin said. "Long have they been at odds, at sea and on land. And there are many Tracian exiles who long to free their homeland. There are others, too, who may join with Glareth."

  "Still," argued Robby, "if I were to somehow manage to become King today, this very day, how would I know how to unite the Realms? I would just be a bumbling fool!"

  Ullin was silent to this retort, and he looked to Ashlord and shrugged.

  "There is a way," Ashlord said, with some reluctance. "A way that you could possibly gain the knowledge and skills that you presently lack. It is an ancient way." He looked at Mirabella who was shaking her head at Ashlord.

  "No, Collandoth," Mirabella said. "He cannot go there."

  "What would you have him do?"

  The others said nothing, wondering what they were talking about, sensing the tension in Mirabella's voice.

  "I would rather keep my son, than to gain a king."

  "If Robby does nothing," Ashlord replied, "you may soon have neither."

  "But that way has not been used for years, if not ages," she said
. "And it is said the doors of that place are forever closed."

  "I do not think so. And you forget," Ashlord replied, "no door, nor any lock, may bar his path."

  "Surely you are not talking about Griferis?" asked Ullin.

  Robby's back stiffened at the name, Sheila looked at Ullin in horror, and Billy, seeing their reaction, turned his head back and forth from one to another.

  "What are ye talkin' 'bout? What place?" he asked the group.

  "A place of death, surely," Sheila breathed. "You may have heard it called Bonewalker's Valley."

  Billy visibly paled at the name. Disobedient little boys and girls were threatened with the name by cruel parents.

  "Griferis lies beyond that place you speak of, which is rightly called Shatuum. It is called by many names, all with some bits of truth in them," Ashlord said. "Yet Griferis is the one place where Robby may acquire the skills to rule and perhaps allies as well."

  "The old books say that, some day, one who will pass through that place will be true King of all peoples," Ullin said. "And that no other will rule afterwards forsoever the sun shines on this earth."

  "The old writings may be read that way, yes," replied Ashlord. "And many other ways, besides."

  "I have heard," said Robby at last, "that it is far from here, ever shrouded in gray mists, and that the men who live in those parts have ice for blood and cannot be touched by fire. They say it is in a wild place where not even the Faere folk go."

  "I've heard the seasons thar change from summer to winter in a day," added Billy. "An' one day's as likely to be spring as it is fall the day before, an' so frightful is the land that even the stars fear to shine upon it even though it is always night time."

  "Yes, yes, I'm sure there are all manner of tales told about the place," said Ashlord impatiently. "Not all that is said of it, or even written of it, is true. If Robby is to be King, he must be tested and made ready. If he is not to be King, no effort of ours will make him so. Yet, consider the many years that the present Unknown King has ruled. How many fathers have been born and have lived and died since his reign began? For nearly an age he has ruled. Duinnor has prospered, and for the most part the Seven Realms have known peace. But old wounds still fester, and old hatreds have not been quelled. The King grows weak, as does Duinnor under his rule. Tracia breaks away. The Dragonkind reassert their power. Lost are the teachings of the elders, and few now know the lore of old. In many parts, new gods have arisen amongst the people, and blood sacrifice is made. Warlords reign over the greater part of the Thunder Mountains. The rift between Elifaen and Men deepens with every year. Dark powers and insidious forces connive to drive those loyal to Duinnor away. The King himself unwittingly aids his enemies by his treatment of his own subjects and allies. His rule fails. It is time for a New King to rule and to reunite the lands. What more signs will you have? They are everywhere, even in the heavens and woods, in the fields and flocks. Nowhere may you turn and not see, if you but look with eyes open. This age ends. And there," Ashlord pointed at Robby, "sits the only hope of the age that comes upon us."