Chapter 3
Their journey across the plains was uneventful. There was little sign of people and he was worried if this was normal. How long it would take for the other cities to receive word of the attack on Selane? Bastra seemed to be uncaring about what others did or did not do or know, but Mach was full of curiosity.
They did not see many merchants out on the roads either. That also seemed odd to him. There should be at least some traders going from one city to another with their caravans. As often as Selane got land traders through mountain paths, surely there should be more out here on the open fields than there seemed to be.
Just as he had been promised the night last, they reached Eldour just before the last sun was setting.
When they neared the capital, he could see that it was as well fortified as he had always heard and as large as he had imagined. Selane could fit inside of it several times over with plenty of room to spare. Soldiers patrolled the top of the walls several dozen feet high above the ground. The walls were made of stone, metal and brick, it was intimidating to look at. Anyone daring enough to try to take this place by siege would have to be crazy. Alternatively, they would have to have a very large army.
Surely, everyone was safe within the walls of the capital unlike the tiny walls that protected Selane.
The city proper was bustling with life when he and Bastra entered. Hundreds of people were running around as though their business was of the utmost importance and the people they bumped into were nothing. Businesses littered the roads inside and out of the gates, in buildings, and on the streets sides.
Some vendors had even gone as far as to carry their goods with them while walking around with trays tied around their necks selling everything from healing tonics to sugar covered apples. Cheap, plaster armor to steel plating and other assorted goods could be found everywhere he looked. Bastra did not bother to look at anything as they walked down the road. He acted as though this was a normal. Perhaps it was for him.
On the other hand, Mach was trying to take in as much as possible. The smell of forges as blacksmiths worked their trade, the scents of a hard day’s work coming from all around, the smell of freshly cooked meats and breads, of pies and ales. These things made his mouth water with every passing moment and they reminded him of home, even the groups of people talking in front of a store as though they were trying to catch up on old times.
Mach watched everything as he passed it, regardless of whether he was caught staring or not. Mules were pulling carts down the road full of materials that he could only guess what they were. The eye dazzling sights of signs in windows advertising items that Mach had no clue what they were.
Their course took them straight down the main road, leading them toward the castle walls. The walls of the city had blocked the view of the castle from the outside, but as they neared the walls surrounding the palace, he saw that it was as magnificent as he had heard. Surrounded by walls and battlements, the castle was the very picture of wealth and power that he had always dreamed.
They stopped at an inn that was close to the palace gates. Bastra gave him several silver coins and charged him with paying for their rooms. The Gargoyle claimed he had a few things to take care of and wanted to do them alone. That left Mach with time to explore this section of the capital while he was gone.
He stowed what little gear he had in their room and left to see what the city held with rising excitement. One of the first shops he had noticed near the inn was a shop dedicated for sailors. Odd as it was for a shop dealing with sailors gear to be found so far inland, Mach was very pleased to find it. Of course, when he thought about it, the sea was not so far away for someone that had horses or a carriage for transport.
He started browsing the store for all the things he use to see on the merchant ships back home and saw a stand that held several different kinds of maps of the Five Empire’s Seas and the surrounding lands both north and south of Eldour. Some were on animal skins others on thin, oiled tree bark. Still some were on another kind of material that he could not remember the name of, though he knew he had seen it more than once.
He began browsing through them until the signature on one caught his eye. It was a map of Eldour and the immediate area. It was signed 'D. Derune.'
He looked up at the shopkeeper who had been eyeing him strangely since he had entered the shop. “Excuse me, sir. Do you know who penned this map?” he asked the man while holding out the map.
The shopkeeper walked around the counter and went to Mach. All the while never taking his light silver blue eyes off Mach. Mach noticed the man was tall and thin, he was up in his age with the roughened hands and the grizzled look of an adventurer. A person that may have had the need for such a map in his past. The man barely glanced at the map before answering, “Why yes, young sir, he and I traveled together for many years. Daniel was one of the best men I ever had the pleasure of being acquainted with.”
“Daniel!” Mach whispered to himself, could it be? “My father was named Daniel, though everyone just called him Dan.” Then he said aloud to the old shopkeeper. “Sir, how much to buy this map from you?”
“Well son, I would normally price this map at around fifty gold, which is cheap for one of his maps. They are the best there is after all. But for you, well…” the old man paused a moment and looked Mach straight in the eyes before continuing, “it’s free. It is the least I can do.” The old man took it from Mach, put it in a leather bound map tube, and handed it back to him. “Here you are Mach, take good care of it now.”
“Thank you sir.” He said as he turned to walk away. He stopped and turned around, “Wait, how did you know my name?”
“You have the look of your father, the same eyes and nose. You look just like he did. All accept your hair. Your mothers’ hair, he always talked about the hair of a sun goddess whenever he spoke of her. Your father bragged about you all the time my boy, he loved you and your mother very much.”
“He did?” Mach asked.
“All the time, lad. In fact, you were the last thing he thought of when he died.”
“You were there, when it happened”
“A sadder day I have not seen in my life, least not since my own wife died.” The old man said grievously.
“What did my father say?”
“What was it now, oh yes? He had chuckled when he said it, chuckled through the physical and emotional pain that he was going through. Always in good humor he was. 'I was going to take my boy out,' he told us 'make a sailor out of him, like me. Goddess protect my boy'. And that was it, with his last breath he asked the gods to watch over you, lad.”
Mach was a little bewildered. His father had been the kind of person to never ask anyone for help, especially the gods. He had never been a religious man. Fact was, he believed too many of them to be wrong in their doings that he shunned them all. But, to ask the gods for help. That was something else. “He said that. He actually thought of me when it happened?”
“You and your mother. Though his prayers for her went out without words.” Mach could see the tears forming in the man’s eyes. “He was an excellent man.” Silence fell between them.
Bastra walked in on the two of them, breaking the silence that had deepened so much they could hear each other breathing. “Didn’t see you at the inn, thought I would find you here. Hello Carsen.”
“Bastra. Doing well I take it? Are you here on business? Or pleasure?”
Bastra just nodded and beckoned Mach to follow. He followed closely, unaware that he still had his father’s map in his hands. Together they went back toward the inn.
“Tomorrow morning we meet with the king and his advisors.” Bastra informed Mach. “Remember what I said about speaking. The king is ill tempered nowadays and likely to take you as a vagrant as anything else.”
He had not even noticed where he was until Bastra held the door open to the inn, being as lost in his own thoughts as he was. Night had fallen in full by now and the lanterns hanging
from the building walls were lit brightly. This city was so busy he had not noticed the darkness envelop the sky. Even at night, the lit torches made it look like mid-afternoon on the streets.
“Get some sleep Mach. I have a feeling that tomorrow is just the beginning.” Bastra said sitting himself onto a bench chair in the corner of the inns main dining hall.
Mach went up the stairs to his room contemplating what Bastra had said. His last thoughts before falling asleep was what the Gargoyle had last said before sitting at a table in the pub that was downstairs. Tomorrow is just the beginning.
Mach dreamt again of the day Selane was attacked with the smell of fire and smoke in the air, the screaming and explosions all around. Of George, rushing off to the docks ready to fight to the death to protect those he loved. Could Mach do such a thing? Could he fight and kill people he knew nothing of? Or even those he did know?
Everything changed.
He was standing in a field surrounded by smoke again. He could not see but for a few yards in any direction. He knew he was surrounded, but he could not see a single person. He could feel the presence of thousands of people all around him. He could hear the clash of swords and the cries of pain. His sword was not the one he carried with him. It was red and silver with black markings. Such power he had never known before. Such power he thought he never would know.
Then came the laughter, insane yet confident. The laughter that made him shiver to his very core.“You think you can take me on boy,” the voice said from somewhere just out of sight, “you don’t have a chance.”
“I will stop you,” Mach yelled out, his anger and courage gathering within him to give him strength. His eyes began searching the smoke for his enemy. The enemy he knew he must kill if he were to survive this day. “If not for myself, then just to keep you from hurting anyone ever again.”
The laughter grew louder, “Your father didn’t stand a chance and neither will you.” Suddenly from out of the smoke and mist, a vague human shape charged out and struck at him, its blood red eyes staring into his with delight. A sword glinted on the dull sun light...
“Mach get up!” Bastra's voice boomed from somewhere in the distance, jerking him out of his dream. All he could do was to lay there in a cold sweat, thinking of the dream that had just occurred. It was the same dream he had not long ago, the same fear gripped him now as it had before.
After a few moments, he got up and left his room and walked downstairs. He turned his mind back to why he was here in the capital city to begin with and what he needed to do. He could only hope that they could get this over with quickly. He needed to get back and find out what was happening. Then again, did he want to?
“Let's get this over with.” He said as he came down the last few steps of the stairs and Bastra came into view. “I want to get back home already.”
Bastra simply turned and walked out the door leaving him to hurry to catch up. Two guards were stationed at the palace gates. When he and Bastra approached, they simply opened the gate and let the two in without a word. A path took them straight to a pair of large doors on the palace wall.
The doors stood twelve feet high and were wide enough to allow two or three carriages through at the same time. They looked as if they weighed at least as much as a black bear. But Bastra pushed them open with the ease of a child’s toy and it swung open effortlessly.
Two guards met them inside. Both were young, probably somewhere around Mach’s own age. They turned and walked in step with Bastra and Mach as they approached and guided them down a series of hallways to another pair of large double doors. These doors were just as impressive as the ones they went through when they came in, though much smaller.
They entered into a large meeting hall, the guards fell behind at the door leaving the two to continue into the hall by themselves. The room they entered was massive and scarcely lit. It was high ceilinged and wide enough to hold a several houses within its walls. Their footsteps echoed loudly as they walked.
Wooden benches were placed much as one would see in a church. Each one could fit at least ten people with elbowroom to spare. They walked the length of the hall down a single long isle that led to a large wooden table with several chairs around it. Beyond the table there was a huge chair draped in scarlet cloth, sitting on a raised floor.
This was obviously where the king would sit he would bet anything on it. With silk draping and velvet padding, the chair was embroidered with gems of all sorts. Only the king could afford something like that.
They reached the front of the room and Mach sat down at one of the tables. Bastra stood by his side. A good idea, Mach thought mockingly, his size would have probably broken any of the chairs that are here. The two did not have long to wait though. A small door hidden behind the king’s throne opened and a man walked out. It was hard to see him in the dark, but Mach was able to see a few things by the light coming from the hallway.
He wore white robes that hung low to the ground. His white hair was long and was tied together behind him. His beard was very short, only as long as the width of a hand. It was just as white as his robes and hair but none of it gave the man a look of being elderly.
The man gave off an aura of power. He could not think of how he knew or how he could feel it, but somehow he knew this man was one of the Mages that had survived the wars long ago. If he was right, this man was one of the Healers he had heard so much about from his father. He could feel the power emanating from this man.
The man in the white robe looked at the two for a brief moment before turning his head upward and muttering something to the ceiling. He raised his hands upward and with a gesture flicked his fingertips outward.
Light flared in all the candles and the dark hall burst with light and warmth. Mach jumped backward and almost fell from his seat. Magic! Here in the capital! That was no healing spell! How was this possible? His mind raced and he could only barely keep up with what he was thinking.
Mages were supposed to be long gone, they died out ages ago! Only the Healers were allowed to live and this Mage just did something with fire. Was it possible that things had changed here in the capital? If any had survived, they would surely not be anywhere in the open like this unless things had changed drastically!
The white robed Mage stood by the chair calmly and waited impassively. Now that light flooded the room, and his own heart had begun to calm down, he could see something spectacular that he had missed in the dark. Something that drove the idea of their being a true Mage in the same room as him far from his mind.
The walls were covered in tapestries, every one of them different. They were not just any pictorials that had been woven into the fabrics, but pictorials that depicted battles of some great significance. All of them portrayed a different person or creature. Some had men, others had the race of Gargoyle’s like Bastra. Each one depicted someone fighting deadly and horrible looking creatures. Some were beasts Mach’s father had told him during bedtime stories like the hydra or the great snakes of legend. Horrid beasts that could spit acid, or shake the very ground you stood on.
Yet some had been of dragons. Although, the dragons that were depicted in the fabrics were done so as heroes. That is absurd, Mach thought to himself. Dragons cannot be heroes, they are the destroyers of towns and killers of livestock!
Mach almost laughed at the idea before catching himself. There must surely be a reason for such a thing to be on these walls and he was in no position to say what was true or not.
Mach glanced back at the robed Mage. Another man had entered the room without him noticing and was already speaking with the white robed man quietly. This one had the look of a soldier. Sword on his belt, chained armor and leggings, he looked ready for battle and more than capable of winning. He stood on the left side of the chair and merely glanced at the two of them with polite interest.
A moment passed by in silence before another man walked into the room from the rear door. He was garbed in a bright red robes speckled wi
th beautiful gems along the collar and cuffs and down the front of his robes.
This was the man that Bastra had come to speak with. Short and broad in the shoulders, his dark black hair and brown eyes gave him an odd look of someone that had been digging in mines all his life. This was not how Mach had ever thought a king would look but it gave him a sense of reality when he realized the king was nothing more than a mere man.
He had a face that looked like it was chiseled from stone by an artist that had missed a few classes or had been half-asleep. Mach had the feeling women would only chase this man for his status.
He went straight for the chair and sat down with a grace that did not suite him. He looked at Bastra then at Mach with a curious look on his face. He turned his eyes back to the Gargoyle at last and spoke in a voice that easily carried throughout the room.
“Lord Bastra, Guardian of our lands.” the king said with a small bow of honor. “It is good to see you again.”
“It is exceptional to find you in good health, my Lord.” Bastra replied just as cordially.
“I take it this is not a friendly visit.” The king asked with a glance at Mach.
Bastra bowed his head slightly. “I am afraid not, my Lord. I bring you ill news.”
“Oh dear, and the day started so good, too.” the king said with a chuckle in his voice and a crack in his smile. “Tell me what news you bring then, Guardian.”
He was amazed at the ease in which Bastra spoke to the king. He thought it would have been much more formal with words that were meaningless banter to fill empty space. It seemed to him that these two had known each other for ages. Not just known perhaps, but maybe had been friends at some point.
“My lord, this young man with me, his name is Mach Derune. He hails from the port town of Selane in the north.” There was recognition in the king's eyes.
“Derune, huh. I knew your father. He was a good man, a great man, really. He was in my employ a time or two and I must confess I would have been lost without him and his work.”
“Indeed, my lord.” Bastra interrupted “it seems that Selane was attacked just the other day.”
Mach could see the king’s face go through the same emotions that George’s had when the attack had begun that horrible day. In an instant, Mach saw the happiness fade into fright then to fury. A deep pain shot through Mach as he remembered George running off toward the docks, explosions destroying buildings all around him. And all I could do was run away!
“What is this?” The king could barely contain the rage in his voice. The sound of his voice snapped him back to what was happening. “Tell me what you know, boy!”
Mach looked to Bastra, wondering whether he should speak or not. The Gargoyle nodded his head and raised his hand, gesturing that he should tell his tale.
“Um... My lord, Selane was attacked just the other day,” he proceeded to tell his tale from the moment he left his home that morning to when Bastra had found him fighting the chimera.
The king sat there and listened, his anger visibly rising with every word. There was astonishment that showed as well. Astonishment that a mere boy could take on a beast like a chimera and live, even if he had help. Amazement that a child could handle such events. When he finished his tale, the king had a worried look on his face and his chest rose and fell as if were out of breath. Perhaps worry was the wrong word. Maybe it was something more than mere worry. Mach thought the king might even look sick.
The king turned to the white robed man. “Mendoll, is this what you had seen coming?”
The man named Mendoll nodded. “More or less, sire. I could not tell how or when, but this follows the basics of our information close enough that it could be it.”
“This is ill news indeed. Captain,” the king said to the other man who stood beside him. The Captain leaned his head to the king, “I want the entire army readied. Sharpen their skills and blades. I want a garrison sent to Selane, a couple dozen or so at the least. We need information and quickly, the enemy may very well have left already, but perhaps we can still spot some sign of them and find out if our guess is right about who is responsible.”
The Captain nodded and turned away. The man practically ran from the king’s side, heading passed Mach and out the same door in which Mach and Bastra had entered the hall.
“Thank you for the news, the both of you. Much needs to be done, please, stay within the city for a day or two. I will have orders for you soon, Bastra. You are both dismissed.” The king said as he got to his feet.
“Mendoll, I want you to send word to their inn, they are now here on my business. Their stay will be paid for by the palace, food and all. Forgive me, I must gather the council to discuss our options.” The king turned and hurried to the side door he had entered and left the room without another word. Mendoll merely stood in place long enough to give an acquisitive look to Bastra and then a look of curiosity at Mach before he turned and followed in the king’s wake, his long robes fluttering slightly with every step.
Mach and Bastra left the palace and went straight to their inn. Mach was completely confused. He had not thought he would be told to stay here after he had told the king what had happened. He needed to go and find his mother. Who knew if she was injured or not? Why would the king want him to stay here? He can’t stay here. What he needed to do was get back to the forest and find his mother.
And then what?
What could he possibly do? What if he found her and she was already dead? Would he not just get in the way of the ones searching the forested hills? Perhaps he should just stay out of their way! He might be a hindrance that may cause more to die if he were there!
Mach thought about it all that morning over a breakfast of sausage and eggs. Could he even find her at all? Would he not just get himself killed if he tried searching out there by himself?
Forcing those thoughts from his mind, he sat there dwelling instead on what he would do if he ever caught the person responsible for the destruction of his home. Perhaps that is what he should do. Seek out the one responsible and kill them. And yet, what of his mother? Not knowing whether he was all right or not.
What if she was out there right now searching for him and he had left her behind to go on some quest of vengeance? If that were the case, how could he justify leaving her? He reminded himself of Bastra's promise. Surely the people of Madtu would inform her of what he was doing when they found her. Surely they would tell her that he had been called to the capital.
But would they really tell her what was going on?
Just a little before mid-day, a page came to the inn with a summons from the king. They wasted no time and quickly marched their way to the palace, he was still unsure why he was following anyone’s orders. He should be following his own heart. The only problem was he was not sure what he wanted to do.
Again he and Bastra went through the palace gates without so much as a second glance from the guards and down the hall to the audience chamber. They only waited a moment before the king and the Captain came through the back door. The old man in the white robes was nowhere to be seen this time. The king sat down heavily while the captain stood by his side.
“You are now official on kings business, the both of you.” the king stated bluntly.
“Yes, my liege.” Bastra answered quickly with a slight bow. Mach was a little stunned at the words but held his tongue.
Why was he even considering listening to this man?
“I want both of you to head to the west forts along our border with Sirunre, and if possible, I want you to go into Sirunre. Once there, I want the two of you to gather information. If you can, I want you to go into Gehnith itself and see if you can find out anything substantial. It is our belief that the culprit of the attack is from those lands. Check it out and report the information back to us.”
“My lord,” Bastra asked tentatively “are you sure about this? I know I am more than capable, but the lad is far from seasoned. He may get himself into trouble he can
't get out of.” Mach looked at Bastra incredulously. He may not be a seasoned fighter but he could take care of himself just fine. Besides, who says I am going to go with him anyways. Mach thought childishly.
The king raised his hand slowly, stopping Bastra from saying anything else. The king did not look as angry as Mach thought he would be after being interrupted. Was the man merely hiding it? “Lord Bastra, Guardian of the Old, do you think this task is too much for you to handle?” the king asked with a smirk that grew into a full smile on his face. “Don’t worry, we have thought about that. We believe it wise to take the boy with you. I am sending someone along to aid the both of you in your task. Between the two of you, I am sure you can protect the boy and keep him out of too much trouble.”
“As you wish, my lord.” Was all Bastra could say in reply.
The king’s expression sobered as he spoke next. “As I said, you are on official kings business. So, you will take this letter.” The Captain walked down from beside the king and handed Bastra an envelope. “As this is official business, you may have anything from the army stores at your disposal that you may need to complete your job. This letter will allow you to obtain weapons and armor free of charge, along with some of the basic survival gear the Guard has available.”
Bastra had opened the letter and was reading it thoroughly as the king continued looking at Mach. “And you, my boy, you will join the Captain’s Guard for a session of survival and combat training. If you do anything else today, you should take advantage of this. It should help in more ways than one.”
“Yes, Sir.” Mach said heavily. What he was getting himself into? It was true that the basic training would help a lot. After all, the only skills he had were what he had worked out for himself over the years of playing in the woods. And truth be told his skills were not the sharpest. What am I doing? Why am I even thinking of following?
The king stood and turned away from them. “Now off with the two of you. I have too many things to take care of since you brought me that piece of news this morning and I would very much like to find myself relaxing at some point in the day.”
Both Bastra and Mach bowed their way out of the chamber and walked straight to the inn. Mach was thinking of laying down for a bit longer when they reached the inn, never mind what the king said he should do. But when they arrived there was someone waiting for the both of them in the front room.
“Greetings!” Said a voice and there sitting on a chair in the inns dining hall was the man named Mendoll, still garbed in the white robes he had worn earlier. “Come, sit. We have much to discuss.”
The two quickly joined Mendoll at the table and each ordered their meal for their dinner. “So you are going on another adventure. Aren’t you, old friend?” Mendoll asked looking at Bastra with a smile on his lips and a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.
“I suppose I am, yes.”
“Well you might be happy to know that I will be joining you. The king insists on having a Healer with you and not to sound smug, but I am the best the king has to offer.”
“Again, you old bat!” Bastra said with a bark of a laugh but there was a look in the Gargoyle’s eye that held another emotion altogether. “All this wasn't the king’s idea was it, you just can’t stay out of a good fight can you? I don’t know, even with your sorcerers ways, how much help could such an old man possibly be? You’re a washed up old Guardian, you know that!”
“Sorcerers ways?” Mach looked inquisitively at Bastra. Sorcerer could only mean a Mage of some kind. When he turned his eyes back to Mendoll, Mach noticed what he had missed before. The Man had eyes as silver as clouds during a warm summer day. That was when it hit him and he remembered something that his father had told him when he was still alive. Silver eyes were the mark of most Mages.
Mach thought of himself for a brief moment before disregarding the idea. It was impossible for his family to have any Mage lineage. If they had, they would surely all be dead or in service to the king.
But Mendoll answered Mach’s curious look without any prompting. “I am a Mage, one of the people thought to be all but extinct since the Damnation. However, Healers are valuable assets to have. And who better to declare a Mage subdued and under control, than a king.”
Mach had learned of those times from the few classes he took in Selane. The lessons of his instructors came to his mind as he sat there. It had been a time where magic could be found almost everywhere, and in practically every village. But they had supposedly been killed off when the wars began and the Mages had all attacked the great cities of old.
“Not all were killed, my boy.” Mendoll said as if reading his mind “I am what is known as a white Mage, a Mage of the Healing cloth, and other than that little spell for lighting candles, I can only heal and protect. But even that harmless kind of magic can really come in handy in a fight and it is enough to cause my death if our king was not the good man that he is.”
He finished his meal as Bastra and Mendoll talked about old times and all the trouble they had once been in together. They had been in several fights on most of their journeys. They had even sailed the Seas for a while with a full crew and had explored a lot of the areas that he had only dreamed possible.
Mach was only paying attention half-heartedly. By this time, his eyes were closing on him, despite his best intentions and he did not know if it was possible for him to stay awake any longer.
Evening had come without his realizing it. By the looks of the shadows outside the inn the second sun had already set and the third and last was well on its way over the horizon. Soon enough night would fall over the city. It had been a little while since he had a full night’s sleep, let alone two nights worth and he was just thinking of how good it would be to sleep when he nodded off into his plate of bread and stew.
“Mach,” Bastra said, startling him out of his sleepy thoughts. “Why don’t you go take a bath and get some rest? Tomorrow we stock up on the supplies we are going to need. We leave the day after. Don’t forget that you have the basic training with the guards, perhaps in the morning you can get it over with? You should be well rested for that.”
He was barely able to make it up onto his feet and gladly took that invitation to head off in search of a hot bath. The smell of steam and soap was enough to draw his nose right to the room he wanted and with speed much faster than he would have given himself credit for, he stripped down and climbed into the tub to soak away some of his worries.
The moment Mach was out of sight, and more importantly out of hearing, Bastra turned to Mendoll. “You talked to the king in depth already, didn't you?” Bastra asked.
“Yes Bastra, I did. About many things but mostly about the boy.” Mendoll said with a mournful look on his face, “I think he has the right to know who his father’s executioner was. I don’t think that he remembers it too well, after all he had only been what, six maybe seven at the time. But I don’t think it is time yet that he find out. He needs a lot of training before he is ready to stand up to him.”
“So, I take it you know who attacked Selane then?”
“I have a theory. And if my guess is correct the two people are the same.” Mendoll said taking a heavy drink from his ale mug. “Do you remember what Dan was looking for when he was killed?”
“Yes, the Stones.” Bastra said with astonishment, “you don’t really think that it was Rubious that struck Selane? That would be an insane thing for him to do. I mean, that would most definitely cause a war. He just does not have the supplies or the resources needed to support any engagement for any length of time.”
“That is exactly who I think it is, old friend. He got a hint of the Stones on our ship, and I bet by now he knows what they are and what they can do. What is worse, I think he may have thought that Selane held one of them and that is why he attacked. It is all speculation right now, but I am sure that even you can agree that Rubious would be that crazy. Especially if it meant more power under his control.”
“That is not
a good thing, Mendoll. And you honestly want to bring the kid into this? Are you mad?” Bastra asked concern thick in his voice.
“If there is to be a confrontation, the lad will have to be ready. That much is for certain. Who better to train the boy than old friends of his father? Besides, from what I can tell of the lad, he is already too much like his father and do you honestly think that he will not try and find the one who destroyed Selane, once he finds his mother.” Mendoll said it not as a question, but more as a fact. “I personally would rather have him by my side, and yours, if the time comes to find Rubious. The lad is not stupid, eventually he will find out who did it and probably why. And when that happens I want him to be as prepared as possible. I have already had to witness the death of an old friend, I would rather not repeat that with his son.”
“That is too true.” Bastra said with a look of hopelessness on his face. “The kid sure is like his old man, isn’t he? Do you really think it will come to that though?”
“Bastra, this task is more than just information gathering. I have been giving permission to do what I feel is needed. If Rubious is indeed after the Stones, we need to stop him. Granted, it is highly unlikely that he will ever find them, but the mere legend of those Stones makes almost anything possible.” Mendoll informed Bastra. “And when anything is possible, we must be ready for it.”
“Do you still hold to what you said before we left each other’s company? Do you really think that this Derune family is indeed that family?”
“Bastra, I can honestly say that I am mostly sure. However, I can’t say that I am completely. I mean, how many families with that name have those eyes.”
“I know, I just think it might be better not to bring him into their world, is all. In this age, the less he knows the less danger he will be in.”
“I know, old friend. I know all too well.”
The Stones of Magic Page 3