The Dead Wind

by Dennis Monaghan

  “Yes, sir!” The three saluted.

  “I will also give each of you a staff,” Grandfather Lute said as he led them to a barrel of staves next to the woodworking bench. He chose three rattan poles and trimmed them with a saw at the bench. He handed each their staff and said, “Some scouts still carry a staff. Bell’s father often went with a staff. These are cut to be the length from the ground to the tip of your nose. One day soon I will teach you the basic staff set.”

  The twins twirled their staves and were on the verge of squaring off, when Grandfather stepped between them and said, “I suggest you cross Mill Creek behind the forge and follow the tributary back up toward the ridge. Be careful, scouts.”

  The youngsters saluted again and dashed out the back door to the stream.

  The Butte

  “You are alone old man,” the rough man said, pointing his spear at Noster, who was sitting motionless in his stone chair. “Give us your treasures and we will let you live.”

  Noster smiled in anticipation. These three were the first to respond to his call. Robbers and muggers, undisciplined and unsuitable—except as his first meal. Noster beckoned the man closer. “Here,” he said. “I have the treasure here. Come close, and I will show you.”

  The thug leaned in. Noster grabbed the man by the throat and lifted him, kicking, to his mouth. Clamping his jaws over the man’s mouth, Noster sucked in his victim’s life force. A sweet energy filled Noster with strength, and he threw the used and lifeless body to the floor.

  The other two muggers tried to run, but Noster blasted them with a bolt of clear wavy energy from the palm of his hand. They fell to the paved floor, unconscious. Noster sprang from his throne and sucked in their energy. When he dropped the last body to the floor, Noster saw watching from the portal the very man he had envisioned his lure would attract: arrogant, commanding, ruthless, ambitious, and greedy. This man had witnessed Noster sucking the life from his victims, yet his yellow eyes glowed and he smiled with appreciation.

  “My lord, Noster,” the man said, stepping forward, “I am Bast, ruler of Pinnacle and surrounding lands. I lead a well-trained experienced force. In my sleep I have received your offer of conquest and riches. Oddly, I found it beyond my power to resist. I was concerned, however, that I was going to be compelled to serve a weak master. The displays of power I have just witnessed dispel any such reservation. Will you accept me?”

  “You are my commander, Bast. You will establish support for my revenge on the people of the City Bay Region. You will direct my efforts to take the City.”

  Noster moved to the Altar Stone and placed a hand on its top. In that moment, a red glow flashed and then subsided. “There are other Altar Stones in the City Bay Region,” he told Bast. “I need to subvert them to boost my power. I detect only one other Altar Stone; it’s vibrating someplace near the City. I know there must be more. I need at least one other Altar Stone to be activated if I am to have any results.

  “Before that, you have much to do. Outside this portal is a passage to a cavern with three cave mouths on the south side of the Butte. Place your troops in the barracks in this cavern or, if you need more space, in the valley to the south. Once you’re settled, select a team I can train. I will show them how to prepare Crim mushrooms for the newly hatched blood riders. And I will need teams to tend and train the blood riders.”

  “Blood riders, Lord?” Bast said.

  “They will be of great help,” Noster said. “You shall see.” He added, “Tomorrow I want you to take the town of Bottom, just to the north and in the hills that front the bay. Send a force to occupy Bottom. They are to kill as few as they can and still take the town. In time, the people of Bottom will return to daily life. But under you. Resistance will be met with the punishment of your choosing. You will bring and keep enough hostages to fill my daily needs, or else your own troops will be my sustenance. Now, go. I await the arrival of your team.”

  “Yes, Lord Noster. All will be done.”

  Woodside Mill

  While the young would-be scouts splashed across Mill Stream on their secret mission, Big Red and Harp led their saddled horses to the forge. Just as they arrived, Grandfather Lute stepped outside.

  The scout and her navigator mounted, and Grandfather Lute walked over to Big Red's horse. “Be careful,” he said. “The safety of the children is of utmost importance. We don’t want to put them in any more danger than they already are. If you can't safely free them now, return and we will come up with another course of action.”

  Big Red nodded. “We'll be back by sunset.” The two riders spurred their horses to the Mill Road. Soon, they were up to Ridge Road and headed toward the Roadside Inn.

  The fog was beginning to lift. Harp stood in the stirrup and peered ahead. “Looks like there are wagons and people at the inn.”

  “Doesn’t look like Rude. Let's go see.”

  Standing beside the road were eight wagons, loaded with household belongings. Children darted around, and young adults tended to the animals.

  As Big Red and Harp approached on horseback, he called out to her, “These are some of the children Rude held. I see Poppy and Joe Little.”

  Big Red dismounted. A young woman came forward and asked, “Are you from around here?”

  “In a manner of speaking,” Big Red replied, “yes, we are. You’ve just arrived?”

  “About an hour ago; we chased off a band of about ten riders. They left a bunch of children in the inn.”

  “Are the children all right?”

  “They seem to be,” the woman said. “They said that Rude didn’t want them anymore. They were too much work.”

  “This solves a problem for us,” Big Red said. She turned her gaze to the wagons. “What are your plans here?”

  “We left the City right after the Dead Wind. Corpses everywhere, looting, fire. It was horrible. Hoodeye told the sisters to look for Lute Miller of Woodside Mill. We understand the mill is somewhere near the Roadhouse Inn.”

  “Yes,” said Big Red, “Woodside Mill is close by. Are the sisters your leaders?”

  “Yes. The two of them are inside the inn checking the abandoned children. They were welcome to stay with us, the sisters said, since we are all orphans of the Dead Wind.”

  “I’ll go speak with the sisters,” replied Big Red. “Thank you.”

  Big Red entered the inn’s double doors. The room had been straightened since the last time she’d seen it, and there was a small girl sweeping the hearth. Big Red saw two women sitting at a table and presumed that these must be the sisters. Both were a bit younger than Grandfather Lute. They looked fit and well groomed. One was fair, and one was dark-skinned. Big Red knew what she would call them.

  “Well, look, Sister, a scout,” said Fair Sister.

  “Come join us, dear,” Dark Sister said, gesturing toward a chair at their table.

  As she approached the table, Big Red noticed that there were children all around the room. Some worked or prepared food; some played; some slept. The place felt calm and quite unlike the energy Big Red had experienced the last time she was here. She took a chair and sat.

  “Wine?” Fair Sister pushed a glass across the table.

  “Thank you. My name is Big Red. As you guessed, I am a scout and I’m passing through. If you are looking to settle in this area, you would be best served by discussing your options with Grandfather Lute—that’s Lute Miller down at Woodside Mill.”

  “Oh, Grandfather! I like the sound of that!”

  “Don't get excited, Sister. He is probably as old as your last City suitor.”

  Big Red saw that the two women were dressed in the style of the well-to-do: wool traveling jackets and pants, silk shirts and handcrafted boots. “Forgive me for saying this,” she told them, “but you don’t look like farmers.”

  They laughed. Fair Sister said, “Sister and I don't intend to do any actual farming. That’s for the young people. Living in the City, we've learned some very useful organizational
skills. We plan to assist in that area.”

  “We long for the country air,” Dark Sister said. “The peace of the redwoods, you know. And we will be delighted to talk to Grandfather Lute Miller.” She gave a coy little smile. “That’s just who Master Akien sent us to see.”

  Big Red stood up. “I will ride down to the mill and arrange a meeting. I'll send Harp back with the time.”

  “You will do no such thing!” protested Dark Sister.

  “We insist on going this instant!” Fair Sister said. “Buggy, please!” she called into the air.

  Big Red saw three of the older children head out the back door. The two sisters rose from the table and sailed to the front door. Protesting would be futile. Big Red followed them, shaking her head.

  A fine convertible-topped buggy arrived from around the inn. The driver, a girl, hopped to the ground so the sisters could climb onto the leather seat. Dark Sister took the reins, and the buggy headed onto Ridge Road.

  Big Red mounted her horse, waved Harp to his, and then caught up with the sisters.

  As they approached Woodside Mill, they could hear the trip hammer pounding in the forge. Big Red led the buggy through the gate and up under the live oaks in at the entrance to the forge.

  Grandfather Lute, shirtless and carrying a small sledgehammer, came out the forge door and started to wave. When he saw the sisters, he ducked back into the forge and reappeared a moment later, pulling on a shirt.

  “Grandfather, indeed!” said Dark Sister.

  “My, yes!” said Fair Sister.

  Grandfather Lute frowned at Big Red. She shrugged.

  “Welcome,” Grandfather said to the two women in the buggy. “I'm Lute Miller.” He offered his hand.

  “Yes,” said Fair Sister, taking his hand and stepping down from the buggy. “We are the sisters, sent by Master Akien.”

  Dark Sister slid across the seat of the buggy, and Grandfather Lute offered his hand to her.

  “What a lovely place you have, Mr. Miller,” said Fair Sister.

  “Thank you, Miss, ah, Sister,” Grandfather Lute stammered. “What can I do for you ladies?”

  “This lovely scout suggested we discuss with you our interest in settling in this area.”

  “Hmm.” Grandfather Lute glanced at Big Red. “Just the two of you?”

  “Oh! My, no!” laughed Fair Sister. “We have a whole company of young strong farmers ready to tend the land.”

  “What we propose is to divide up the available farms among the young ones who are capable and willing to run them,” Dark Sister said. “We will then assist and supervise them from the Roadhouse Inn.”

  “Which, of course, we will open for business,” concluded Fair Sister with a beaming smile.

  Big Red could see Grandfather Lute pondering this new plan. Plainly, he was a little uncomfortable around the women. He led everyone to the garden area under the live oaks.

  “Harp, run and get your sister and the boys. I think they’re in the mill. Bell and the twins are still playing scout back up behind the forge. I don't think you'll find them. I'll make some tea, and we can discuss the matter at hand.”

  Everyone gathered, even Bell and the twins, who had just returned. Grandfather Lute served tea.

  The sisters went over their proposal once again. After a brief discussion, it was agreed that the sisters and their company would be welcome.

  Shell and Matt asked after the captured children. The sisters assured them that the children seemed healthy, even if they weren’t quite over their fright, and that they could easily become part of the sisters' company. For a time, everyone chatted. Matt, Mark, Shell and Harp decided to ride up to the inn with the sisters and see with the people they knew, to find out firsthand how things were with them.

  Grandfather Lute handed the sisters back into their buggy. “So, as you suggested earlier, two days from today, all of you will come back here for a welcome feast. You sure that gives you enough time to settle the farms, Sister?”

  “Yes, you dear man, plenty of time to get a start,” smiled Fair Sister.

  “Bye, bye!” Dark Sister called with a wave, as she drove the buggy around the yard and out the gate.

  Grandfather Lute watched them around the turn and out of sight. He wondered how he had been maneuvered into having the welcome feast. He turned with a face that looked so forlorn and confused that Big Red burst out laughing. “Double trouble!” she said.

  “Oh dear, oh dear!' Grandfather Lute replied. “Come, Big Red. Come look at your sword. The most amazing thing has happened. While working the metal, I open to the One Wave. This expanded my being during the tempering and made me a channel through which a vibrant energy flowed into the blade. It was extraordinary! I strongly suspect the blade is carrying your own personal vibration.”

  Inside the forge, Grandfather Lute pinned a temporary wooden work handle to the tang and offered the unfinished blade to Big Red. The metal touched her skin, and she was stunned by a scintillating joy and sense of comfort. It was her own energy. It was unmistakable. She was in union with the blade. Big Red grinned and, with reverence, said, “By the One Wave!”

  She took a calming breath and inspected the steel. The slightly curved blade reached from the tip of her finger to her shoulder cap; a through-tang added another two hand spans. The new blade looked a bit unfinished, but even in this state, Big Red could tell she held the finest blade ever made. The edge was a marriage of steels, the wavy union was plain to see. The chisel point gleamed in the light as she went through a quick sword set to test the balance—which was perfect.

  “This sword is magnificent!” she said, beaming. “You do me great honor, Grandfather Lute. Somehow you have managed to match the blade to my vibration. It feels like a part of me. It is a part of me.”

  Grandfather Lute said, “I’ve been thinking that, since the Dead Wind, my connection with the One Wave is much stronger. I will try to make more blades in this manner. If I hold the intention to instill a particular personal vibration, say Bell’s, for example, the process should work the same as with your sword.” Grandfather Lute gestured toward the machine. “The improved hammer also makes my life easier. But as you can see, there is still a lot of finish-work to do on your sword.”

  Big Red returned the blade. “How long before it’s completed? I don't mean to sound in a hurry but …”

  “I understand, Big Red. The children are safe and your duty to the City calls. You are in a hurry. But you’ll have to wait at least two days for me to finish this blade properly. Besides,” he said with a wry smile, “you have to be here to protect me from the sisters at the welcome feast.”

  Tanan Shrine

  Astride her horse, Jana reveled in the feel of the fresh wind off the ocean. She felt rested, and she was resolved to not let what was happening around her keep her from doing her Tanan practices. She opened to the One Wave and allowed her senses to flow into the vibrations of the environment. A dozen or so bushtits chattered on the fennel; a fog hung around the crest of Glass Hill. She rode toward the edge of the Estates District, near the first redwoods, where the old Tanan Shrine stood. She remembered the autumn she had spent with Master Aiken at the shrine when she was a little girl. Master Aiken was amused when she’d called the Tanan Shrine “the little big building.” But that is how the shrine seemed to her: not physically large but built on a scale that made it seemed grand.

  Reaching a small rise, Jana could see the green copper roof gleaming through the trees. Coming closer, she could make out the shrine’s hand-polished corner posts and their beams, across which lay curved rafter ends that softened the steep roof. Seven wide, stone stairs of worn grey flagstone ran on all sides of the building.

  As Jana dismounted, the energy of the place overtook her. She breathed deeply and looked about. When Jana was a child, Master Aiken had said that the people forgot the Way of the Tanan because they had lost the ability to experience the presence of the One Wave. But after the Dead Wind, the shrine was alive with
the One Wave. The vibration filled her. She ascended the stone stairs.

  The walls were hinged and could be folded from center to corner post, exposing the interior. They were closed now, except for the center panel, which stood ajar. Jana stepped into the square altar room. Other panels on both sides of the shrine were open, casting sunlight on the Altar Stone in the center of the chamber. The waist-high blue-gray rock looked like a misshapen cube, as if the corners had melted slightly.

  Three children—Jana guessed they were eleven or twelve—approached her. The one in the middle, a slim girl, spoke: “Welcome, Scout Jana. Hoodeye has been expecting you. Please come with us.” She gave a little bow, and the three turned and walked along the shrine’s east wall.

  The building was a double square. The front square housed the Altar Stone, the second half housed quarters and facilities for students and teachers. When Jana's eyes adjusted to the light, she could see the intricate carvings of vines and leaves on the wood framing. Unlit candles in wrought metal sconces stood ready around the pillars.

  Jana stopped next to the Altar Stone reminiscing how, in the earliest years; she could barely feel the pulse of the One Wave. She rubbed her finger along the groove near the top north corner as she had as a child, and the Stone vibrated with power. She staggered back in surprise. The purity of the emanation filled her with wonder and at the same time invigorated her like a breath of fresh, sea air. She placed her palms on the Altar Stone, open to the One Wave. She was filled with strength, saturated with a buoyant peace. Master Akien taught that the key was to carry this energy with you at all times. Jana longed for that ability.

  Jana turned back to the children. They led her to a sliding wood-and-paper panel in the wall that divided the two halves of the shrine. Jana slid the panel open and stepped into a long hallway. Other panel doors lined both sides of the hall. Three additional hallways branched off at right angles. The girl who’d greeted her pointed toward the end of the hall and then slid the door closed.