The Third Corridor

by The third corridor (NCP) (lit)

  "Nai," Phoebe nodded. "Merati was even willing to challenge Sondra."

  Sera’s ears perked up. "Who?"

  "She greatly desired my brother. Whenever she visited our Corridor, she would always follow him about doing that woman thing with her eyes."

  Phoebe’s awkward demonstration of batting eyelashes made Sera laugh.

  "Her feelings for Jerad were quite zealous, and she had the skill to match Sondra," Mesari added.

  "She was beautiful too!" Phoebe exclaimed. "And also very nice. Not like Sondra who always pinched my ears."

  "So why didn’t she challenge Sondra?"

  Should she even care?

  Yes she cared.

  "Jerad told her not to. He told her he would not offer her his crest."

  "Hmph," Sera sighed. She had a lot to think about.

  Phoebe held up a mirror so Sera could examine her hair. Sera nodded her approval, and then looked over her new wardrobe. There were two more pairs of trousers, a couple of blouses and vests, knee breeches, and another dress and skirt.

  "Where are my jammies?"

  "Your what?" Mesari questioned, unfamiliar with the term.

  "Ya know, nightshirts, stuff to sleep in?"

  Mesari chuckled. "I don’t believe the Noble requested any."

  Argh! The man was utterly incorrigible! Sera threw up her hands and marched from the bedchamber. Would she ever have any control of her own life in this place?

  Her forward progress was briskly arrested. She slammed into Jerad’s hard chest with a resounding oomph that was expelled from her lungs. He grabbed her shoulders to steady her and then held her at arms length.

  "Are you alright, Sera?"

  "Fine," she grumbled. "Just fine."

  "You look beautiful wife."

  "Thank you." She lowered her lashes and blushed prettily.

  Good god!

  Was she really that daft that a simple compliment from him could make her weak in the knees?

  Apparently.

  Sera looked up to meet his gaze. Gracious if that man didn’t take her breath away!

  Oh well, sleeping naked with him might have its advantages. She chose to ignore the perilous fluttering in her heart.

  Chapter Sixteen

  The Great hall was brimming with Nobles when Jerad and Sera arrived. They entered to the sounds of merry conversations and laughter. The aroma of roasting food wafted through the air as serving attendants scurried about, keeping the cups of the guests well filled.

  Sera looked around curiously.

  Long aisles on each side of the hall were separated from the large main area by thick, stone columns that ran both lengths of the enormous room. The columns jutted upward to meet the high ceiling, and were joined to their adjacent pillars by intricately molded arches. Below each arch, spindled railings enclosed a second floor. There were citizens along the upper level, many standing against the balustrades to watch the activity below. A large banner was suspended from a vaulted ceiling. It displayed the Tenth Zone’s coat of arms. Three smaller banners hung beside it, baring the blazonry of the allegiance Zones. The majestic room served as a refectory, as well as, a place for entertainment. It was warmly lit, cheerful and welcoming, despite its expansive size.

  Jerad scanned the room as they moved through the crowd. Sera couldn’t help but notice that he seemed a bit edgy, but did not get the chance to question him about it amidst the constant greetings they received. Sera watched as yet another Noble approached Jerad. Their raised palms met in a strong clasp followed by a fisted knuckle to knuckle strike. To Sera, the Noble respectfully nodded.

  The supper gong clanged, indicating that the meal was about to be served. Jerad and Sera took their seats at the table on the dais, a place occupied by the highest ranking Nobles in the hall. Presently, it was the Magistrate Council and their consorts.

  "I see that Aryan remains absent," Jason remarked.

  All eyes drifted to the two empty chairs reserved for Aryan and Ezra. Sera took notice of the cogitative glances exchanged between the Council members, but did not understand. Sera gave Jerad a perplexing look, hoping he would explain what was happening.

  He did not.

  Sera should have been irritated by that, but something deep within her entrails warned her that she would prefer not to know. She also surmised that it was likely she would find out soon enough.

  "Perhaps it is a favorable circumstance?" Fremi offered.

  Jerad cast a glance toward his sire. Shegarth stroked his beard as he returned a doubtful visage.

  "I think it is not likely," Jerad stated dryly.

  With a resigned sigh, Shegarth motioned toward the next table. As it was the custom for every chair on the dais to be filled, he requested Mekal and Herus to step up. They readily obliged, of course. Sitting at the prominent table was an honor not to be refused.

  Mekal kissed Sera lightly on the cheek as he took the vacant seat next to her, surprised by how spontaneously forthright it seemed. The gesture was an accolade of sorts, he supposed. He was fond of her and nothing more.

  Sera looked at Jerad and shrugged.

  Jerad eyed Mekal with circumspect. His unconscious self was telling him that Mekal was safe refuge for Sera, but his conscious self had weighty objection with Mekal touching her.

  It was irrational thinking.

  He trusted Mekal.

  Jerad willed the negative feeling away.

  When the guests in the Great Hall had eaten their fill, and the plates were cleared, they coalesced into small gatherings. A company of musicians began playing an upbeat tune. Some of the Nobles danced. Others tapped their feet as they chatted with their acquaintances. Many indulged in drink and game playing.

  Mekal followed Jerad and Sera to the gaming tables, now set up along one side of the hall. They sat down to play a game called merrills. The game boards contained three concentrically placed squares connected at the mid points of their sides. Peg holes were evenly spaced around each square. The object of the game was to get three pegs in a line. This was called a mill. Once a mill was formed, one of the opponent's pieces could be removed from the board. Each time a player lost a peg he could choose to quit and take his losses, or he could add a gemstone to the ante and continue. The game was won once a player reduced an opponent's remaining pieces to two.

  Jerad explained the rules to Sera and she challenged Mekal. She found her skill without haste, winning two of every three matches against him. Mekal finally threw up his hands after losing a handful of gems to her and turned the board over to Jerad, who smiled wickedly at Sera. He was a master at this pastime. His arrogance was quickly stifled. Sera defeated Jerad with little effort, drawing an appreciative chuckle from his lips.

  "You are ruthless, wife."

  "Yes, yes I am," Sera replied smugly as she scooped her winnings over to her side of the table.

  "It seems you have met your match, Jerad." Ezra joined them, softly tittering at the double meaning behind her statement.

  A rhymester approached the table. He was adorned in clashing colors--a block styled tunic of red and purple, and stockings striped in orange and blue. He looked quite comical. Sera nearly laughed at his motley appearance. Ezra did laugh.

  The rhymester threw a fist to his shoulder and bowed so low, Sera thought he might fall over. He then bolted upright and stretched an open palm towards Mekal, cleared his throat and began to speak.

  "The artist!" he announced. "Unwavering hands that hold the tool to dance the paint in final song."

  He turned to Sera and tipped his head.

  "Beauty preserved in endless time."

  "Kudos!" Mekal reached into his cloak, withdrew a stone and flipped it to the man.

  The bard bowed his thanks.

  Sera assessed her collection of gems, pointed to a green one and looked up at Jerad. He shook his head. She pointed to a blue one and he nodded, letting her know it was a worthy reward for his short verse. Sera dropped the recompense into the man’s palm. He lo
oked at the gem and blinked. He dropped to a bent knee and kissed her hand before dancing merrily to the next table.

  "How much did I just give him, Jerad?"

  "Enough to keep him happy for seven rises."

  "Enough to keep his woman happy for seven rises," Ezra corrected. She rolled her eyes. Such generosity was in Jerad’s nature.

  He was a good man.

  It made what she was about to tell him that much more difficult.

  She inhaled deeply, and her voice grew somber. "Aryan follows behind me, Jerad. He means to declare his claim this luna."

  Jerad closed his eyes and nodded. "I expected as much."

  "What’s going on Jerad?" Sera asked.

  Jerad held Sera’s hands. "I wanted to spare you the worry, but…"

  He was interrupted by the increase in mutterings and the crowd parting around them.

  Aryan was stalking toward them, his boots treading against the floor with intense and hostile purpose. His expression roared with an unheard growl so fierce that Sera shuddered.

  Oh, this does not look good.

  He stopped an arm’s length away from them. His eyes bore through Sera and then moved to do the same to Jerad.

  Ezra grabbed Sera’s forearm and motioned her to back away from the two men. Mekal came up behind Ezra and Sera, put a hand on each of their shoulders, and pulled them both even farther back. Many others were also moving away.

  Aryan snapped his head back and curled an upper lip. Herus stepped forward along with other warriors, ready to pull the two men apart. They would not allow the Challenge to erupt in the Great Hall where others might be hurt.

  "You must have dug her up from the muck in the Seventh Zone," Aryan snarled at Jerad.

  Jerad went rigid with anger and his hand flew like lightening to Aryan’s throat. "Consider this fair warning. Do not insult my wife."

  This was the second time Sera had heard a deprecating reference about the Seventh Zone.

  "Ezra, tell me about the Seventh Zone."

  "Ochi, Sera. I do not think that you wish for me to expand on Aryan’s insult."

  "I do," Sera pressed. "How am I supposed to defend myself with ignorance?"

  "I suppose it is only fair Sera, if you wish to know.

  The citizens of the Seventh Zone are descendants of Himeros and Dionysis. They are hedonistic, incestuous and prone to overindulge in intoxication. The men are vile and aggressive, and the women lewd and shameless. Many are laden with scabs and diseases from a multiple of encounters with unclean men. Their offspring, many sired by couples who share the same bloodline, are often deformed or daft. That is, if they even survive the birth."

  Well, Sera bristled, that was quite a hefty insult.

  She was deeply offended and blushed with embarrassment.

  Jerad stepped closer to Aryan. "Let it go, Aryan."

  Aryan shoved him.

  The murmurs in the crowd grew louder as the Nobles in the hall began to debate the issue amongst themselves.

  "Your deceit brings misery to my family."

  "That was never my intent, Aryan."

  "You degrade your own bloodline by mixing it with a Seventh Zone whore."

  Aryan was pointing directly at Sera, but his eyes remained fixed on Jerad. "I know where you found her and frankly, my Noble, I am disgusted and flabbergasted!"

  Jerad felt the burning rush to his head as his fury escalated. He clenched his fists. At that moment he wanted to kill Aryan for his slander.

  "My clan will not condone this revolting act of disparage. By justifiable cause sanctioned by the Magistrate Council of the Corridors in the Tenth Zone…"

  Aryan swiftly drew his sword and jammed his blade into the wooden floor. It landed solidly between Jerad’s feet. Jerad stood unflinching. Having sported the sword against Aryan on many occasions, he knew the warrior’s precision with the blade was impeccable. He also knew that this would not be the time or the place that Aryan would choose to splay him open.

  "Death Challenge!" Aryan spit venomously.

  The hall fell silent.

  A Death Challenge.

  The glass Ezra was holding slipped from her hand, hit the floor and shattered. She truly did not believe that her husband would go this far.

  Jerad had thought it, and now it had been declared. He was not in the least astounded that it had come to this.

  "Aryan! Jerad! Is this necessary? Will an Honor Challenge not suffice?" Shegarth bellowed.

  "Indeed Nobles. We can forbid this type of Challenge," Jason asserted.

  Aryan turned a hostile leer to the Council members. "Do you tell me that my sister’s life is worth naught?"

  "State your terms, Aryan!" Shegarth snapped at him.

  "If I am victor, it will be his blood in exchange for my sister’s blood." Aryan looked pointedly at Jerad, "and this hypocrisy of a union will be forever severed! If I lose, Sera will give servitude in my house."

  The members of the Council nodded. It was both appropriate and acceptable. Shegarth had no recourse to disagree. He was outnumbered.

  His heart grew sick with worry. He knew Aryan and he knew his son. It would be a brutal battle, as both warriors were fearless and unrelenting, and they were equally matched. Neither would yield to the other’s sword. There could truly be no winner in all of this.

  "Do you accept Noble Jerad?" Shegarth’s voice actually cracked with the agony he was feeling.

  "I accept."

  What other choice did he have? The Council had given their consent.

  Ezra moved forward, but was stopped when Mekal grabbed her upper arm. "Do not interfere Ezra. This matter must be settled. It is better for a man to face his anger than live a life in agony and merely pretend he is happy. This way is often the remedy."

  "I am the one who killed Sondra." Sera wrenched her hands, feeling suddenly faint. "Why does he challenge Jerad instead of me?"

  A strangled noise that was half chuckle, half cry emerged from Ezra’s throat. "He could not have Sera. Look at you, and look at him."

  Sera glanced down at her body, then to Aryan. It would be pure insanity to think she could fight a man that size even if he was blindfolded and had both his hands and feet tied.

  "I can fight," Sera defended herself.

  "Not like a warrior, Sera, and most definitely not with a sword."

  "Can’t the Magistrate Council stop this?"

  Mekal gave Sera a sympathetic look. "It is they who approved it. The Challenges are a civilized way of diffusing anger, of settling disputes."

  Civilized?

  If Sera hadn’t been so upset, she would have laughed in Mekal’s face.

  "But one of them will die!"

  "It is possible."

  "No," she whispered.

  "It is the way of things, Sera."

  "I am so sick and tired of hearing that."

  A fight arose behind them, and it was then that Mekal realized that many arguments and riotous aggressions were erupting in the Great Hall. He had to remove Sera, else he may have to guard the Ptino Asteri in the midst of a chaotic melee.

  That could prove difficult.

  Mekal grabbed Sera’s wrist, ushered her through the columns and into one of the side aisles. At the same time he signaled his page. The boy was immediately at his side.

  "Cry the herald, boy. A Death Challenge has been issued."

  Mekal then dragged Sera down the aisle and hustled her away from the Great Hall.

  Jerad turned to catch a glimpse of Sera leaving with Mekal.

  "Nai, I see how faithful your whore is," Aryan taunted. "She has already chosen your successor."

  Jerad growled and punched Aryan in the nose. Aryan moved to retaliate. They were both subdued without haste.

  Chapter Seventeen

  By these teachings we unveil the prophecy which will come to pass. Heed our warning, a great evil will descend upon you whose course will be to eradicate the power of justice with a wave of great devastation, the likes of which you canno
t comprehend nor have ever witnessed afore.

  Be not caught unaware, for a baneful warrior through the line of Nyx will seek to annihilate your people and claim that which is not his to hold. A messenger will be sent from Gaia carried through the belt of Orion and arising from the Mountains of Eksaf ‘anise. Know these signs that the Edict is upon you. There will be two in number, separated by past and present but linked, and whose presence among you will both stir chaos and destroy it. One will be called the Ptino asteri who in truth will be of spirit, but flesh to the touch. The Ptino asteri will be pure of mind, will have dominion over creatures, and will forge a bond with the Keeper of the Key. This bond will be a joining so inherently seamless it will cross the boundaries of the heavens. Not a citizen, assemblage, beast, or natural substance will have the power to put it asunder.

  There within this melding, the mysteries of the key will be revealed as the bonded are torn apart by flesh but not of spirit. The Ptino asteri will deliver unto you the prior one. They will face and exterminate thine enemy. Look riseward and your eyes shall be opened. This edict will have come to pass. Doubt no more the prophecies of the Origins.

  Sera studied the Edict of the Oneroi. A shivering chill blew threw her spine.

  Pure of mind.

  Her memory loss. It’s what Jerad had told her.

  Sera rubbed her thighs and arms. She was definitely flesh to the touch, but what did the Edict mean by who in truth will be of spirit? Jerad thought she was a spirit when he first saw her.

  She didn’t feel like a spirit.

  …the one prior--Argilos or Tomas?

  She was bonded to the Keeper of the Key--Jerad. His self-fulfilling prophecy maybe?

  What if it wasn’t?

  …within this melding, the mysteries of the key will be revealed as the bonded are torn apart…

  Sera closed her eyes and began to tremble.

  The Death Challenge.

  Was Jerad about to die?

  "Go to hell, Orion." Sera waited for the lightening bolt to strike her down.

  She had to protect him. She could not allow Jerad to face death for her. The thought of losing him was pure anguish. He gave life to the very blood that coursed through her.