Schisms
Book One of the Red World trilogy
By V. A. Jeffrey
Copyright © 2012
All rights reserved.
Artwork By Ferdinand Ladera
An Epistle Publishing book
The stories contained in this book are works of fiction. Names and characters are the product of the author’s imagination and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, past or present is entirely coincidental. All rights reserved.
Table of Contents
Book I
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Appendixes
Author Notes
Notes and Information
I.
Long ago during the Age of the Void when God sat alone He made six Pillars, He being the first. They were great engines of stardust and cloud and He set them in seven places in the universe. Then He made a small world. Beautiful it was and He named it Chialis, which means: Red Jewel. He set it in the very center of the Pillars and covered it with a mantle of stardust and cloud and inside it was the spark of His Essence. These things were the primordial makings of Man. Then He made others like Himself, lesser gods, and after the Void of time these set to work throughout the heavens. The mantle of veils was lifted from time and space and these gods made the other stars and the worlds of the heavens. Then they asked to see the jewel God had made, Chialis, the Red Eye of heaven, the Eye of God. Some gods set to work crafting and weaving life here from the spark and during the Age of Creation the Eye began to thrust out its light and beauty. There are many worlds in the heavens but Chialis is the very birthplace of life and greater than all others for it was made from the First Pillar of Creation.
- Sha 1:1, Translations of The Holy Aishanna
Chapter One
1650 A. T. V.
The way was long and the road invisible to all but the hardy peoples of the desert. They knew the land from one end of the horizon to the other, whether the endless dunes and deep powder sands of the deep desert, the rocky ground and tough greenery of the plains or the mountainous regions of the high deserts in the north, with their mazes of gorges and caves. They had secret ways through the sands, hidden from unfriendly eyes. A protection in the dark days. They used these on the hottest days of the year, when an entire tribe was on the move or during a Great Gathering such as this.
The soft eye of the first milk moon had risen and the sky had settled in a hazy mass of deep blue and violet. The blue evening star Elitaph shined like a sapphire set in a kingly diadem. Dahlan had first perceived the blood mark in the sky. Not the usual red-pink, orange or lilac colors, depending upon the season or the weather, but the blood-red that always heralded a change in the affairs of mankind.
“The red! The red! He is come!” He'd said to the other elders. For days he proclaimed it. And so they were in keen expectation of the prophecy from then on.
The other moon had already set and would rise again just before dawn, leaving them with less light to see by. It was a good thing they'd managed to ford the Mowret before darkness had fallen. They were traveling to the Plain of The White Bones, a shallow, wide valley of flat rock and sand of the mountainous land north of Hybron. A Great Gathering had not happened since the Destruction and before that, since the Revolt of Tribes, a time so long ago that it was no longer counted in years by the tribes. But something had changed. Every man and woman who still lived among their tribe, the ones that kept the old ways, knew it. It was on the lips of many in the outlying towns and villages and even some among the soft epolei in the cities that still knew their tribal roots: “A king will rise again and set matters straight respecting kingdoms and princedoms and tribes and peoples.”
“Signs and portents I have studied for years and I have lived long enough to see a promise come alive. It will be the last time I see such a thing.” Said Dahlan.
“I wonder it is that you can still see anything. I cannot!” Said his friend.
“Mighty, Dahlan has always been! He still leads us now, even from his palanquin!” Said another elder. The others laughed, joking with him good-naturedly.
“Perhaps, my brothers, but truly, it will be the last time. I feel the death in my bones and my soul these days. I wonder if it will lie with my great-grandson?” He thought of Khalit. The child was not yet six years. His brothers showed no indication of seeking kingship. There was precious little time left and he would likely not see the child grow up.
“It may.” Said one of the men. “The seed has been spread among us. Your sons have always been mighty, Dahlan. Perhaps the king shall really come from your seed.”
“I hope to know of it before I go. My youngest nephew's elixirs have kept me alive these many years. Where is Jabi, eh? He must stay close! I could die at any moment!” Cried Dahlan in mock panic.
“Jabi's quass keeps us all alive longer than we deserve but he will not give up his secrets.” He laughed and the others laughed again but there was a note of sadness in it. Dahlan, foremost elder and head chieftain of the Karig had lived to be one hundred and forty-five years old. Men did not live that long anymore. Most died before reaching one hundred and twenty years and men in the cities did not even live to be that long. With him would go the oldest living memory of stories, histories and great wisdom of the past.
The tribal elders and tribal mothers, one thousand in all among the Karig, streamed toward the line of large cactus that told that they were getting close to the plains. Shaikhs and tribal mothers from other tribes were streaming from all directions: the Karigites and the Raeanites – the most numerous and powerful, the Petrites and Gilphaens from the north and west, the Makebites of the South Lands, Elapu and Holamites of southern Hybron, Corelians of the east in Zapulia and the Nalianites from the west.
The tribes were the progenitors of all of the peoples of Chialis that settled all over the world. Many city people had forgotten this fact but a tribesman never did, whether he worshiped the First Pillar or not. Not all tribes followed the old ways. Many chose other gods. Even so, some from each kept the worship of the First Pillar. And most from the Raea and Karig tribes did so.
Once they had converged there were thousands, as if many caravans were converging on a great caravan city. Dahlan felt his heart leap. The oneness of the tribes was strongest when they gathered in sacred places. He reveled in the feeling. All had seen and heard of the mysterious man, a new desert holy father who came to some in dreams and visions, to awaken the people to prepare for what lay ahead.
After a few hours they all entered the Plain of the White Bones. Originally, in this place there had been a mighty battle between two male yaryebu, and both had died. It had another significance. A terrible war happened here ages ago between those that wanted empire and those that wanted the wild ways. It left countless
dead. It was the scene and birthplace of many empires, kingdoms and massacres. When the carcasses of the god-elephants rotted away until there were only mountains of bleached bones left, resembling the ruins of primeval temples it became a sacred meeting place for the tribes. The bones gleamed bright in the pale moonlight. They began dislodging from their camels and horses and unloading the pack animals and lead them down the gentle slope to set up the camps. Tents were raised and pinioned and the cooking fires were stoked. Evening faded into an ocean of deep violet-black with the stars splayed across like sea-spray. The young fighting men chosen to accompany this great host all stood apart until the elders had all settled onto the low plain and they set up camp all around the ridge. Their torches ringed the ridge, glowing and flickering like firebugs. The red ram's horn call was made on the ring of the plain. Another inside the low plain was made in response. But this time there would not be the traditional Night Prayers.
The man appeared during the call, in robes seemingly made of pure, white starlight. The light of the fires paled in comparison. His eyes seemed to burn with an inner fire and even those gathered along the ridge could perceive the figure in white clearly.
“You know the time is coming.” His voice was like that of rushing waters. “Dispersed within you is the seed of the line of the Red Kings, the true kings! Airend-Ur has gathered you together to look for the coming of the new king. Many of you will die before he rises but he will come in your sons' generation. The corruption of the priesthood has been noted and they will be called to account. He will come to cleanse the temple and raise the kingdom of Hybron again for its rightful heirs. Some will rise up against you and persecute you but take heart! God will deliver His promise. He will come like a flaming star-sword and you must follow in the fiery wake! Do not do the way the treacherous Ainash have done in defiling the Holy Writings and the temple and oppressing the people! Keep true and the king will rise among you and lead you to victory! Those that die shall go to paradise!”
“Hool! Hool! Hool!” They all shouted the exclamation of joy. The plains roared and echoed with the thousands of voices,
“Airend-Ur shall give a sign, one sign for you this night to tell your children and grandchildren that He is with you people!” Said the man and he pointed to the sky. Suddenly in the sky all around them there appeared spirits, what looked like visions of gods in the mists - it was the army of heaven at God's right hand, dazzling like the stars. There were gasps of shock and shouts of elation.
“Fear not you people for He is with you!”
“He is with His people!” The gathered crowd shouted in near frenzy.
“Blessed be His will and His name, the First Pillar who set all others in their places. He is the First and the Last. He rises up through the sands of time a king in His name. Ellah Kaifah!” He intoned.
“Ellah Kaifah!” The crowd roared in agreement. “Hool! Hool! Hool!”
Thus, it began.
In the year 1663 A. T. V. Khalit Ka Dahlan of the Karigites rose up against the Kushigyar of Jhis and gathered many valiant, mighty men to himself to put the Kushigyar to death by the sword and he took power. During a night of festival when the rulers were drunk amidst revelries he rose up against them with Zarammelech and Aquillam who were in the City Guard and with three thousand men he overtook the city. He then tore down the walls of Rhuctium and of Haiga and established himself as ruler over all the attendant city-states of Hybron that used to be under the ancient kingdom, except Zapulia, which was also called Ellah. Egi then rose up in rebellion against him and with a great military force he came by way of the north and destroyed towns and cities in the north of Egi. Then he went to its capital, Egium, and threatened the ruling chieftain with destruction of his land and execution of all his family. Egi then also submitted under him. He then waged war against Temuz the king of Zapulia, also called Ellah, the one making it difficult for the people in Jhis because of his waging war against them and his waging war on the Karigites. He then defeated King Temuz and King Temuz went limping back to Zapulia. After these things occurred, Khalit then became king of Hybron and he was called Khalit-Aisu, meaning “King by God's Hand”, or “First True King”. And he went rebuilding the walls of the cities in the land and expanding his army and exacting tribute to increase the treasury. It was then, when he took power that he turned away completely from serving Airend-Ur.
- The Third Book of the Kings 14:2, Translations of The Holy Aishanna
1685 A. T. V.
“I am in a mood, Bakku!”
“My king? Would you like music? Theater, perhaps? There is a new play in the. . .”
“No! I am in a mood for a new wife. You know I hate theater. What is the matter with you?”
“There are many worthy concubines you already have. One of them could be queen?” Bakku quested, watching the king with a sidelong glance. The king gave him a withering look. Bakku bowed low and started again.
“There are high-born chieftains' daughters and noblewomen here and in the surrounding cities. I shall send word out.”
“Discreetly. I do not want the queen to get wind of it, yet. The woman is barren as the high desert. All my concubines have given me children. Healthy sons! But none from the queen. There is some evil design here, I think.”
“Of that I have no doubt, Your Greatness. Yet, there is the one from Egi. Chieftain Tenan Seht's daughter.”
“The Strabian woman, again?” The king said in exasperation. Bakku cleared his throat quietly.
“She is high-born, Your Greatness.” Far higher born than you, barbarian! He thought contemptuously. “She is a lady. The Strabians have taken root within the cities hundreds of years ago, as I've said before. Wildness has been bred out of them. She would be an excellent choice for queen, Your Greatness. Refined they are, well bred. Also, there is the matter of her family wealth and strength. King Kufun continues to raid the southern borders and King Temuz keeps spreading the wicked lie that you are a usurper and the son of cannibals. Yet, he controls cities that used to be part of this land. Important trade cities. Trade cities that might be won back, Your Greatness.” Bakku stressed. He watched intently as the king's face darkened in anger. Bakku continued.
“They both become bolder with each passing year. Soon you will have to go to war again and you need more monies and more forces at your disposal, Your Greatness.”
“I defeated them.”
“You did not destroy them, my king.” There was a long silence.
“Any inheritance from her family goes to her brothers. Strabians are not like those of my tribe. Their women can inherit nothing on their own.”
“They are the highest caste tribe in the region, in all regions, in fact. They are also the wealthiest and most of all, the house of Seht. In fact, they are not even truly counted or thought of as a tribe any longer but an ethnic people that dominate the city of Egium. Her father is very old. She is still young and unmarried. Some say he may die before the year is out.”
“Which means her brothers will inherit his wealth.”
“Oh, but did you not hear the news, my king? His sons are dead. Only the daughter remains.”
“How? Why did I not hear of this?”
“No one knows for sure. I only very recently heard this news. But may I remind you that the likelihood of the two rival kings on your borders making an alliance is growing. You have only half of what you began with in the treasury, fighting wars and securing the borders. Lady Taliat is now the proper heir to her father's fortune and household and the many warriors of that land.”
“And when her father dies with no sons, it will go to his brother.” Insisted the king. Bakku sighed in irritation but was careful to do so quietly. He marveled at how such a fool could seize power and hold on to it for as long as he did. Bakku hated the wild people. They were luti! Filth! They refused to live in the cities, could not read and were as ignorant as the day was long. No refinement. No education. This usurping king being the prime example of desert filth.
But King Khalit was charismatic and had the love of the people of Hybron. They saw him as a so-called hero, liberating them from the ruling Kushimen and the Kushigyar. He still remembered seeing the body of the Kushigyar he had served being dragged through the main boulevard behind the king's chariot after the execution. He remembered the riotous, deafening cheers of the people. A threat to the rest of the ruling Kushimen like him of the city if they did not bow to the tyrant king. He shuddered inwardly, knowing he and his fellow Kushimen narrowly missed that same fate. He swept those dark thoughts from his mind. Bakku had a plan and needed to make sure the plan succeeded.
“Oh, my king,” he began again, folding his hands together. “That is true only if she remains unmarried at his death. If she is married, or betrothed before that happens, the wealth goes to her husband.” He remained silent, letting it sink in. The king gazed at him for a long time.
“She is very beautiful, is she not?” He finally said. Bakku nodded slyly.
“And wealthy.”
“How old is he? Her father? One hundred years, I think.”
“One hundred twenty-five.”
“Mighty in age.”
“Indeed, but no man can live forever.” The king fingered his signet ring.
“Take a delegation with you Bakku and go to Egium. Let it be known that we seek a wife from the House of Seht, the great chieftain, lord of Egi. Report back to me. If everything is satisfactory you will bring her up from Egi, a very great retinue with much fanfare. Wedding preparations will begin the same week of confirmation of the marriage betrothal. Be sure you are right about this, Bakku.”
“I am sure of it, my king or I would never have made mention of it. It would be an excellent match.”
“Call for my secretary. I will have letters written and you must be ready to leave in three days for Egi. As for the queen, I will tell her myself. You may go, Bakku.” The king handed him one of his signet rings with the golden lion figurine.
“Anyone seeing this ring will know that you bring messages from the king.” With a feeling of deep satisfaction welling up in him, Bakku took the ring and hid it in one of the deep folds of his robe, bowed low and left quickly on the king's business.
Schisms Page 1