by P R Glazier
Chapter 5. A Trunk Full of Memories
In the morning Nar’Allia came downstairs yawning. Her father and the twins were sitting at the table playing a game of Clastitor. Minervar was in the kitchen preparing breakfast. She went around the table and kissed her father and the twins before making her way to the kitchen to help with the breakfast preparations.
“Good morning Narny, not the best night of sleep I see?” Said Minervar with a raised eyebrow.
“No, my mind would not settle, so much was whizzing about in it.” Nar’Allia busied herself stirring some oat meal that bubbled away over the hot plate above the range. She withdrew the spoon and after making sure it was cool used her finger to pick up some of the brew, she licked the oat meal from her finger. Then as nonchalantly as possible she said almost to the surrounding air, “I saw the arrows in the quiver again last night, but not until I picked the bow from the wall.”
Minervar remained quiet.
Nar’Allia took another lick of the oatmeal and glanced sidelong at Minervar. “What happened to Serinae Momma? You would never say, yet she was your best friend, you knew her so well, it can’t be that you do not have your thoughts and suspicions?”
Minervar sighed, she turned from the bowl of washing up and dried her hands on a tea towel then turning to face Nar’Allia said, “I’m sorry Narny, I don’t know really, well not for sure. All I know is that she went freely somewhere beyond our reach. There are places that are hidden to us, but such places still exist all the same, yet the doors remain closed. Certain people and certain events can open these doors. Serinae was shown such an open door and received an invitation to go through. She decided for whatever reason that she would like to accept this invitation. It’s as simple as that.”
Then as if in her own thoughts she said, “dear Seri, she tried hard many times to explain things to me.” Here Minervar shrugged her shoulders, “I think I understood some of it, but what I do know is that the world, this world, is but a fleck of dust within a much bigger place. We see this world, we exist within it. What we don’t see are all the connections that this world has with other places. The Keepers know how to bridge some of these gaps, even travel between the voids, to an extent they can bend time and space. But where Seri has gone I don’t think even they have access to. What I do know is this larger place of which I speak is so vast it is beyond imagining, it may go on forever without limits or any boundary. Our ancient forefathers knew more, they had closer dealings with many aspects of this greater, outer void perhaps.” Here she hesitated as if deep in thought, she giggled and said, “Seri used to speak of a place, Elit G’fedrel she called it. I don’t know if this is where she went, I think she hoped to go there. She used to speak of how links could be made between voids, she explained to me once that was how her quiver worked.” She looked at her step daughter and smiling said, “well maybe in Amentura we can learn more eh?”
Nar’Allia thought about Amentura and the conversations they had with Solin, she asked, “momma, Solin hinted that you held other items, other things that belonged to Serinae perhaps?”
Minervar smiled, she looked quickly at Iolrreas who smiled and gave a small nod of his head as if to acknowledge some unasked question with a yes. So taking Nar’Allia’s hands Minervar said, “yes, there are certain things I kept of hers, she gave them to me, well she discarded them, no longer needing them where she went, but because they were hers and were therefore regarded as T’Iea, my companions allowed me to take them. I have not taken them out to look at in years. At first I thought someone may come to claim them, to use them again, for although they have seen battle and are tools of war, they are beautiful to behold. Like the black longbow, they are things that belong to a bygone age, crafted many ages ago by the smiths of old having great skills and knowledge, perhaps none with this knowledge now remain within this world, at least none that are able to fashion such things. I wonder sometimes if in fact items like that bow and quiver were actually made here at all, perhaps the T’Iea brought them here long ago from some other place and we have just forgotten. Perhaps such a place may be Elit G’fedrel, who knows.” She looked long and hard into her step daughter’s eyes, “perhaps we should take these things, take them to Amentura, they may be better stored there in that place, there amongst other things from many ages past.”
Nar’Allia became excited. “What are these items Momma of which you speak? I’d like to see them if you would show me please.”
Minervar hesitated and then sighed, “Yes my daughter, I’ll do what you ask. But in the meantime you have two hungry siblings and a father all expecting breakfast, so let us see to them first.”
True to her word after breakfast Minervar led Nar’Allia into hers and Iolrreas’s bedroom and sliding an ornately woven throw from off something at the foot of the bed revealed an old travelling trunk. Opening the trunk she removed sheets and other household paraphernalia. Nar’Allia watched with eager eyes as her mother’s belongings were removed from the trunk and carefully laid to one side. Nar’Allia wondered at the wedding dress that was removed, she remembered Minervar wearing this dress on that happy day along with the dried and pressed bouquet of flowers. Distracted, Nar’Allia stroked the silken material of the dress with her fingertips whilst her mother removed more from the trunk. Minervar then paused for a moment looking into the deep trunk before she reached in and from the very bottom removed a number of items of different shapes wrapped in a travel worn green cloak.
She laid this upon the bed and stood back looking at the old cloak that lay there. She then seemed to come to a decision and moving forward, she started to unfold the cloak. Nar’Allia stood close by looking down with great anticipation. The first thing to appear was a little picture, Minervar looked long at it, Nar’Allia thought she saw a tear run down Minervar’s cheek as she handed the picture to Nar’Allia. Nar’Allia looked from Minervar to the picture in her hands. There were three T’Iea in the picture, a male, a female and a young girl with light coloured hair and green eyes.
“This is Serinae and her family isn’t it?”
Minervar nodded, then with some sadness in her voice she said, “yes it is. Long ago I went to Ter’Fin’Ealle, I sort something, I felt cheated that our friendship had been cut short. In those last days we both lost a great deal and I think I wanted to heal along with Seri, but she decided otherwise, she took another route, opened a separate chapter in the great life book from the one I then chose to read. I think I wanted to somehow discover more about her and what she stood for, somehow grasp a little more of that lost friendship, console myself with a little more knowledge and understanding. In the end all I could discover was this, a picture.”
They both stared long at the figures represented within. Minervar finally stood the picture upon her dressing table and returned to the other things she had removed from the trunk. She took out a leather belt wrapped about two scabbards, two short swords within showed their detailed hilts, highly polished leather, intricately woven around silver metalwork of obvious T’Iea design. She held these up in front of her. Nar’Allia admired the stitch work the suppleness and sheen of the finely worked leather. It looked brand new as if it had come straight from the artisan who had made it. The ornate hilts of the two swords invited her to grasp them. She did so, slowly drawing one of the swords out from its resting place. It made a metallic ringing noise as it was drawn. Nar’Allia held the sword up in front of her, the blade was bright, not a single blemish to be seen upon its surface, not a single mark or stain, not a single hint of any tarnishing of the bright metal. She could see her bedraggled hair and slightly puffy eyes reflected in the mirror-like quality of the blade. The single edge looked so sharp, wickedly sharp; it seemed to Nar’Allia that if she were to rest the edge on a piece of wood just the weight of the sword alone would slice the wood in two.
Nar’Allia’s attention was then drawn to what Minervar now had in her hands. A pair of bronze coloured vambraces had been taken from the cloak, again finely
worked in their design and construction, also most definitely T’Iea in the making. Nar’Allia could not decide from what material they were fashioned. It could have been metal or leather, or maybe something completely different, some material no longer known in the world, at least this world. Minervar indicated that Nar’Allia should try them on. So placing the sword carefully upon the bed, she offered her forearms so that Minervar could slide the vambraces up her arms before pulling on the straps that held them tight against her. They felt light as a feather to wear and as she moved her arms around admiring the workmanship. She noticed that the blade lying upon the bed gave of a feint glow as the vambraces were passed over it. It was similar to the glow she saw from the arrows in the quiver, for although it was the glow of some form of light, this light did not illuminate any surfaces surrounding it.
She went to take up the blade, hesitated a moment for as her hand got close to the pommel the blade glowed quite brightly as if anticipating her grasp upon it. Once in her grasp however, the blade which had been just plain highly polished metal became covered in etched runes, it was if they had formed out of the metal itself. Surprisingly the blade that had been quite heavy when she had first picked it out of its scabbard, now felt as light as a feather, she smiled and took some practice swings. Minervar ducked and held up her hands. Nar’Allia expressed her apologies. It was amazing she felt she could swing this blade all day without tiring. She pulled the other sword from its scabbard and smiled as this one behaved in exactly the same way. She admired them both, marvelled at the workmanship and skill that had gone into fashioning these items.
Eventually Nar’Allia placed the swords back into their scabbards, she noticed that when she opened her hands to let go of the sword hilts her hands felt like they were still attracted to grasping the swords, it was almost as if the swords did not want to be released from her hands. But she did so and as she withdrew her hands the runes upon each blade dimmed and extinguished once more.
But Minervar had again reached into the folded cloak and now held up the most amazing chain mail coat that Nar’Allia had ever seen. Each ring shone bright, not a notch or cut could be seen across the whole item, it was magnificent. It made a melodious tinkling noise as Minervar turned it this way and that. Nar’Allia took up the offered chain mail coat. It felt warm and smooth as silk, each ring slid over her fingers like soft oil. Nar’Allia marvelled for she was expecting a heavy item, yet it weighed little, she gauged the weight no more than that expected of a similar item fashioned from cloth. Pretty designs had been etched onto each individual rings around the collar and cuffs, overall designs depicting the heavens, of stars and, moons and comets. The fastenings down the front were designed with that of a double headed axe motif, Nar’Allia immediately recognised this as the motif of the city of Gwéldølĩn, the Grûndén city beneath the mountains of the Tolle’Ambrunista, for she had seen the design many times adorning the Grûndén soldiers and their gear as they marched through Tent Town.
At this moment Iolrreas walked into the room. “So what are you two up to eh? Ah, having a fashion parade I see”. He stood there in the doorway as Nar’Allia slipped the chainmail over her head and pushing her arms through the sleeves allowed the mail to slip down over her breast and body. Minervar helped her do up the fastenings. It fitted perfectly. She moved her arms up and down stretched, breathed in deeply. No discomfort did she feel, no restricting pressure from the many metal rings that now hung snugly about her person.
Minervar smiled, “you know, Master Łinwéé once told me that this chain mail has a value far greater than the total value of all the gold that all the mining guilds in Gwéldølĩn could hope to obtain in a year. The metal from which it is made does not come from this world, but from another, a place described as being within the voids. The Grûndén had an arrangement with the Keepers to allow them access to mine in the voids, maybe they still do. But this mail shirt will deflect all known weapons used in this world. It may not stop a broken rib or cracked shoulder from a blow by a heavy weapon, but it will stop any penetration of the body.”
“Serinae must have been a very rich woman,” remarked Nar’Allia as she looked down at the chainmail glinting around her torso.
“That she was indeed Narny, but not just in the way you may think. She was very special. She was a warrior second to none; she would have willingly died for her friends, or for what she believed in, she almost did. She was totally committed, totally faithful and totally honourable above everything. She fought in all ways for the good in this world and beyond it; she would not suffer evil in any of its many forms. She would not, could not, tolerate it, even when presented to her in a form that was close to her heart. She was a window into an age now gone, a time of different values, and I loved her for it.”
Minervar wiped a tear from her eye, Iolrreas hugged her close. Nar’Allia had moved to help Minervar pack away the items, but her step mother had said that she would do it and Nar’Allia, after removing the mail shirt, left the room to get ready for the day.
Minervar remained, she looked down at the items laid out before her and Iolrreas rested his hands upon his wife’s shoulders as he too stared at the array of objects that lay there upon their bed. “Take these to Amentura Mini, they belong there, they have too many memories to keep hidden here. They should be honoured for all to see.”
Minervar looked into his eyes and smiled.