The Banished Lands- The Complete Series

by Benjamin Mester

  “It was the place she loved most,” Pallin said.

  Durian was surprised by his declaration. For what he had been wondering about was what was so special about the Shady Marshes.

  “King Euthor constructed a large mound of stone there, not unlike Mt Skultira, but much smaller. She loved the sunset view along the plains and they would often wander there near evening. He wrote a poem for her in the early days of their union, of the two of them wandering to the Shady Marshes. When I recalled the poem to mind, I could think of no other place he would have entombed her.”

  The group followed the river throughout the night, mostly north until it veered to the east. They filled their water skins and rested. Then, after morning had dawned, they set off to the west.

  “We will arrive at the Shady Marshes by evening,” Pallin declared.

  Durian's mind was consumed in thought, with visions of the dreams flashing through his mind and lines of the poem inscribed into the Hammer of Haladrin popping in and out of the foreground of thought. What other mysteries lay hidden, waiting for them to find?

  By midday, the ground grew spongy around them. The grass changed to tufted bundles of swamp grass the horses wouldn't eat. And in the distance slowly rose the only feature in the landscape, a large mound of stone, shaped like a gray loaf of bread.

  It was leagues away and took the rest of the afternoon to reach. But by the time they arrived, Durian could see why the place had been named the Shady Marshes. For the thirty foot tall stone cast a long shadow over the marshes in the light of the setting sun.

  As they approached, they saw that the rock itself lay within a small pool of crystal blue water and seemed largely featureless. Pallin dismounted his horse and waded through the chest high water to the stone's edge. Running his hand along the smooth surface, he traversed along the stone, searching for a clue to its entrance.

  Durian glanced to the west. Already the sun was waning low atop the far horizon. Durian longed to climb atop the rock, to stand in the place where the great king and his beloved wife would share in the joy of living.

  “Pallin, what if we need the hammer to get inside?” Sheabor asked.

  “I do not believe so,” Pallin replied. “He would not have wanted us to damage or destroy this place.”

  Sheabor dismounted as well and entered the pool.

  “There's an opening!” Pallin exclaimed. “At the base of the stone. A small tunnel.”

  The three Suriyans dismounted and came to the edge of the pool. Though they were in a swamp, the pool of water around the stone was a deep blue. Entering the icy water, they waded toward Sheabor, who waited at the stone where Pallin had disappeared. Baron went first, taking a deep breath and disappearing into the waters. Blair followed. Sheabor helped Durian, pushing on his legs when he had submerged beneath.

  Durian felt around and kicked with his feet. The tunnel was dark and circular, ascending upward into the stone's interior. After a few moments, he popped up inside a dark cavern with a single shaft of sunlight coming down brightly from above. The light fell upon a large, rectangular stone sarcophagus, over which Pallin already stood.

  Just then, Sheabor popped up beside him. The sarcophagus lay on a small mound. Durian and the others approached it with reverence, Durian's heart beating quickly, not knowing what he was going to find. But even his wildest imagination couldn't have prepared him for what he was about to see.

  For coming the short distance, he found that the stone sarcophagus contained no lid. Inside the lidless tomb was a pool of solid and perfectly clear crystal. Lying motionless within the crystal was the undecayed form of a beautiful woman in a white silken dress. She looked so peaceful and fair, as though merely asleep beneath tranquil waters. But her face carried a hint of sorrow, barely perceptible.

  Durian's heart beat wildly. For the woman before him was the same woman he had seen in his dreams. But how could that be? His mind raced for an answer that never formed. But he noticed that at the base of the sarcophagus was a stone tablet that seemed to have writing etched into it. Durian came over to read it:

  Our footsteps amble down the dusty lane.

  Daylight sinks to twilight once again.

  And her, her tender, far-off looking eyes

  Watch the changing colors fill the skies.

  And I, my thoughts are drawn to distant lands,

  Where we could flee beyond the world's demands,

  And live, disburdened from the many pains,

  That ever keep the race of men in chains...

  The final beams of sunlight warm her face.

  I feel pervading goodness in this place.

  A breeze picks up and stirs her silken hair

  And I catch the scent of goodness everywhere.

  The poem brought a mist to Durian's eyes. It was beautiful and overwhelming to read in the presence of the woman to whom it had been written. Durian came back to the head of the tomb, gazing once more at the form of Sheyla. His mind was a jumble. Had King Euthor done this for him, to show him that the dreams were real?

  But he sensed there was something deeper at work, some other purpose to which he wasn't privy. Baron and Blair began to wander the confines of the small cavern. Sheabor turned to Pallin for his thoughts. Baron came to the far side of the room and bent down.

  “This looks like Shade Stone,” Baron said. “And I see a keyhole.”

  The rest came to see. It indeed was a square floor of Shade Stone with a keyhole in the direct center.

  “There must be a key around somewhere,” Baron continued and arose to look about the room.

  Pallin's gaze grew distant, as did Sheabor's. Where would King Euthor have left a key, and what was inside the compartment? But Baron saw something on the far wall and hurried over to it. It was a shaft of metal sticking out from the wall. Just beside it on both sides were indents that seemed to be made by fingertips. There were ten of them in total surrounding the key, like fingertips sunk slowly into wet sand and then pulled free again. Baron placed his fingers into one side of them and pulled on the metal shaft. Though it seemed to move, it didn't come loose.

  “I think I found what we need the hammer for,” Baron said. “I think he buried the key inside the wall.”

  The rest came to examine his findings.

  “It felt like it moved,” Baron said. “Sheabor, you try it.”

  Sheabor grasped the metal and pulled with all his might for a few long moments.

  “It didn't budge.”

  Baron took it again, placing his fingers again in the indents on the right side.

  “I could've sworn it moved when I pulled on it. Don't just stand there, little brother. Help me.”

  Blair took up the other side, placing one hand on Baron's and the other in the finger indents surrounding the key. Then, pushing against the wall and pulling on the shaft, somehow, the key began to move. Sheabor joined in, helping to pull on the hands of the twins. And at length, the key was freed from the wall.

  “How did you do that?” marveled Durian.

  “I don't know,” said Baron. “The wall just seemed to soften a bit. Did you feel it?”

  “I'm not sure,” Blair responded.

  Pallin gazed gravely at the wall and also at the two twins from Suriya standing before him. But Sheabor wasted little time. Taking the key to the other side of the room, he plunged it into the keyhole with a half turn. A loud click emanated from within.

  He pulled the door open. The compartment seemed to glisten with a golden glow. Sheabor knelt town and took an item in hand. Raising it up, he produced a large dual-bladed axe whose head was formed of Shade Stone and handle was made of gleaming Candlewood. Nearly identical in type to the Hammer of Haladrin, this weapon was both larger and more menacing, clearly unique in the world.

  Kneeling back down, he produced a large shield. The shield was of a different wood than Candlewood. It was white, not unlike Estrien's bow. But the front of the shield seemed recessed, and within the recess was a layer of pure Sh
ade Stone. It was large, able to shield the whole person when kneeling. And a spike of Shade Stone protruded from the bottom tip of the shield, which would allow the shield to be fastened to the ground against attack.

  Sheabor admired the two objects now in his hand, swinging each slowly through the air to get a feel for their weight and balance. But Baron bent down and thrust his hand into the compartment. After a moments digging, he pulled up another weapon. It was a spiked mace, whose head was of Shade Stone and whose handle was of Candlewood.

  Laying the weapon at Sheabor's feet, he reached in again, this time pulling out a chest-piece of armor. More complex than any piece of armor they'd ever seen, this chest-piece was a combination of hardened leather, metal, and stone. The leather was woven throughout the metal breastplate, binding plates of Shade Stone to the metal base.

  Baron laid the chest-piece down at Sheabor's feet and produced three identical others before declaring the chamber empty. Sheabor stood chuckling to himself, holding a large shield, mace and battle-axe, with four suits of armor piled at his feet.

  “I suppose you'd like me to fight this war by myself.”

  Durian didn't know why, but he was wary to take hold of any of the weapons or armor. He wasn't a warrior, and it felt out of place for him to carry such ancient and powerful items. It was clear that the others felt the same way. These weapons and pieces of armor clearly hadn't been constructed for such as them. But Pallin smiled and stepped forward. He took one of the chest-pieces of armor and held his hand out for one of the weapons. Sheabor handed him the mace. Baron and Blair also took a chest-piece, leaving Durian the odd man out. But Durian, glancing down at the compartment, seemed to notice a very faint blue glow.

  “I think there's something more.”

  Stepping down into the compartment, he took hold of a crystal, glowing faintly blue in the darkness. Durian climbed free of the compartment and held the crystal up to Pallin and Sheabor. As he turned it toward them, the glow intensified a brighter blue. Pallin took it in hand and gazed intently into it.

  “What is it?”

  “It seems to be some sort of compass,” Pallin replied. “It glows brightest when pointed to the west. Perhaps this is the key to finding our way to the tomb of King Euthor.”

  The group returned to the side of Sheyla, paying their respects one last time, and then, left the tomb of Sheyla behind. The light was dazzling as the sun hung low over the horizon in front of them. Already, a beautiful orangy red was filling the sky, a testament to the verse inscribed just inside.

  Durian came out of the water more quickly than the others, skirting the base of the rock on the other side and searching for a way up. Finding small handholds gouged in the stone, he ascended with ease and stood atop the broad stone. The others soon joined him.

  The view was beautiful – the distant dark treeline silhouetted in the bright orb of the sun; the golden plains beyond the marshland swaying in the gentle breeze. And above, the crimson orange of the sky was darkening to deep purple. Durian tried to recall the poem inscribed at the foot of the sarcophagus.

  And her, her tender, far-off looking eyes

  Watch the changing colors fill the skies.

  And I, my thoughts are drawn to distant lands,

  Where we could flee beyond the world's demands...

  If only they had gotten their wish. But dark times had befallen and had changed the face of their world. The group lingered until the sun had set and then descended. Sheabor patted his horse's head and spoke to it, as though an old friend.

  “I had a horse just like this – white with tan spots,” Sheabor said. “My first horse. He was smaller in stature than most, but bigger in heart. I got him on my fourteenth birthday.”

  Durian himself had scarcely ever ridden a horse. Suriyans rarely traveled and mules were better beasts of burden. The group mounted and then huddled together round Pallin to see where their course would take them.

  “Thay Iphilus Forest is near and there are no barbarian settlements between us and its bounds. If we can enter the forest unnoticed, we'll travel north through cover of trees and at last come to the edge of the barbarian kingdom.”

  “Why not just travel west and come out the other side of the forest?” Blair asked.

  “Because the Ruhkan Mountain splits the forest in two. It runs roughly north and south nearly the whole length of the continent.”

  Durian had heard of Thay Iphilus Forest before, but never in a fond context. It was said to be haunted with disembodied spirits known as the Night Wanderers.

  “There are many leagues of open plains between here and there, so be on your guard.”

  The group departed just as darkness took hold of the land. Durian gazed back at the large stone until it faded into the pervading dark. One day, he would come back to this place. Sheyla and Euthor would finally get the burial worthy of the greatest of heroes.

  A Reunion of Old Friends

  The night was cold as a lone, cloaked wanderer descended from the highlands toward the newly conquered city, Eulsiphion. Skirting the base of the mountains along the river, he came to a deep blue lake, standing there a moment, watching the waterfall shatter the orb of the full moon held within the waters. But then, he dove into the lake and disappeared.

  Within the castle, Eulsiphion, the barbarians reveled in the palace hall, over which a thick cloud had formed, lightly dropping snow. And on the throne silently watching, Malfur, Keeper of the Winter Wind, purveyed.

  The cloaked wanderer ascended the pitch black tunnel, groping about in the darkness. At length, he reached the end, finding the secret latch and pushing the door slowly open. The sound of laughter and feasting came to ear. He hesitated. Would he reach Malfur before they struck him dead?

  He crept into the king's bed chamber, coming to the near wall next to the door. Then he listened and waited. Finding the chamber rooms unguarded, he moved in silence toward the main hall, sliding his footsteps along the smooth stone floor.

  He arrived to the entrance of the main hall. He stood there for many moments in silence, listening and waiting. There was still time to turn back, to abandon his plan. But at length, he breathed in deep and stepped into the hall.

  For the moment, he went unnoticed by the dozens of barbarians at the banquet table. But two of them sprang to their feet, grabbing the axes beside them. Malfur, only paces from him, shot his head round, his eyes widening in great surprise as they met the new arrival.

  “I don't believe it!” said Malfur, standing to his feet. “My brother, Aravas.”

  Aravas took another step into the hall.

  “Hello, brother.”

  The barbarians rushed forward, axes poised, but hesitated to strike him dead. Still, they moved to detain the new arrival and bind his hands. But Malfur held up his hand to stay their ground.

  “Thank you,” said Aravas.

  The two were silent, each gazing firmly into the eyes of the other. All commotion in the hall ceased as Malfur sought to read the intentions of the new arrival. Aravas wore an entertained expression, trying to fathom what Malfur could be making of his unannounced appearance.

  “Why are you here?” Malfur asked at length.

  “I came to see for myself if the rumors were true – that my brother, Malfur, Keeper of the North Wind was alive and well.”

  Malfur's eyes narrowed.

  “And now that you've seen? What do you intend now? Go back on your merry way to your friends, the Melanorians?”

  Aravas let a slow smile grow on his face.

  “I came for your help, actually.”

  “My help?”

  Malfur lifted his head back in laughter, the barbarians joining in at the bold declaration. But Aravas began walking away toward the other side of the hall. The barbarians quickly cut him off, crossing their axes in front of him.

  “I want to show you something,” Aravas said.

  “Let him pass.”

  The barbarians raised their axes, allowing Aravas to arrive a
t his destination, the statue of King Euthor. He gazed at it for long moments and the hammer resting at the statue's side.

  “Do you know why the Hammer of Haladrin was formed?” Aravas asked, turning his eyes back to Malfur.

  “I'm not interested in a history lesson, Aravas.”

  “You will find it less historical, and more imminently pressing than you suppose.”

  Then Aravas walked back toward Malfur.

  “The Hammer of Haladrin was formed because of a choice...a choice made by three brothers fearing the fourth was dead.”

  Again Malfur's eyes narrowed. He sat slowly down in the throne, leaning back, his brow furrowed.

  “I don't know what kind of deal you've made with Corcoran,” Aravas continued. “But I'm going to tell you a secret. I hope that the years haven't dulled your wits, that you have sense enough to side with your brothers over Corcoran's heedless malice.”

  Aravas paused, letting the suspense grow thick in the room.

  “But first, tell me. When you first arrived at our lands, did you find them strange?”

  Malfur didn't speak for many moments, but Aravas could see his question had struck some kind of a chord with Malfur.

  “In what way?” Malfur responded.

  Aravas only smiled.

  “Did you wonder why you never felt the powers of any of your brothers on the wind? Or were you too busy planning the slaughter of innocent townspeople to notice?”

  Malfur stood to his feet.

  “Enough of your games, Aravas.”

  “Very well. I will tell you. At the end of the Great War, after we loosed our powers onto the world, forming the cyclone that split the world in two, Pallin, Faigean and I found one another as the world fell to chaos. But we did not find our brother, Malfur. Fearing him dead and seeing what havoc we had loosed, we made a vow to never again use our powers.

  With the help of King Euthor, we imprisoned our powers into an orb of Shade Stone, which he took with him to his grave, never to be found. And now you know why the Hammer of Haladrin was formed. It was made by King Euthor, inscribed with the farewell poem to his wife, Sheyla, so that if the fateful day ever came for Corcoran's return, the Windbearers could once more take up their powers.”