A Tide of Shadows

by Tom Bielawski

  Shalthazar had visited hundreds of towns with an array of cultures during his life. And as he arrived, he could see this one was little different than many on his home world. As he made his way deeper into the town, he saw peasants and nobility, wealthy merchants and average citizens, monks and priests, warriors and those he assumed were knights of a sort. In the poor areas of the Outer City he saw run down multifamily homes piled on top of each other with little space between. He saw the occasional lower class merchant storefront, or open-air fishmonger, or farmer selling produce. He saw many who appeared to be poor, yet he never saw a beggar or street thief. There were few citizens about and those that were appeared to be moving to and fro apurpose, eyes downcast as though hoping to draw little attention to themselves. Their attire was quite frugal, which seemed in concert with the accommodations of this neighborhood. There was no recognition on the faces of these peasants as he ambled through the Outer City. Shalthazar wondered how Umber had been able to maintain the illusion of “Lord of Justice” for so long, when the rest of the world knew otherwise. As he rode on, his mind focused on his plan, the Outer City gave way to the wealthier Inner Mount.

  Gradually homes became larger and farther apart as the road climbed higher, people here had a somewhat better lifestyle than that of those in the Outer City. Some homes were decorated with mosaics, and murals, and others with fanciful, if somewhat modest, gardens. The people here appeared to be content, if not cheerful, and decidedly more pleasant smelling than those in the Outer City. Many of the residents in this part of town took great interest in the warrior-monk. A procession of sorts had gathered behind him and the elf heard the excited questions amongst the gathering citizens.

  “Could it be?”

  “Is that a warrior monk of Ilian Nah-Lum?”

  “Is the prophecy being fulfilled?”

  “Prophet-General!”

  As word of his passage began to spread, more and more gathered to watch the arrival of the Bringer of Glory. Crowds began to form and soon the street was lined with townspeople. It was a much different reception here where the people had a modicum of education and at least some sense of the outside world. However, in the Outer City it was much like other cities the elf had visited. The peasant classes had little care for what transpired outside of their own bleak existence; they had little reason to. Although there were plenty who watched with interest, the crowds were not disorderly, riotous, or even jubilant. But they were decidedly curious and even excited. He decided he liked the quiet reservation of these people.

  The climb became steeper as he made his way closer to the castle mount, and the farther he went he saw homes that were larger and made with much marble. These homes and buildings were far more beautifully designed with domed roofs, oval shaped outbuildings and oval shaped doors. Some modest temples appeared, each with a tall spire reaching for the heavens from the top of a bulbous-shaped roof. Of all the shrines, modest chapels and temples he saw, all served Ilian Nah. The people who resided in this higher section of the city were clearly from the upper classes of Nashian society; they wore fine silks, soft cottons, and some of the men wore cylindrical hats and pointy boots. Curiously, Shalthazar noticed that even though many of these citizens were dressed in fine clothing, none of it was ostentatious or flashy; a reflection of these conservative people.

  Looking behind, Shalthazar saw that a procession of children now followed after him. Many of the citizens, wealthy and not, lined the sidewalks and saluted him. The people of this land held their military in high regard and bringing glory to the Suldom of Nah was the highest honor a citizen could earn. It was widely believed among the people that the Prophet-General would bring eternal glory to the land and prosperity for all.

  The elf smirked; he was pleased that he would be able to use this belief to his advantage. Now with an escort of happy citizens which, he noted were both Keneerie and human, Shalthazar made his way into the section of the city he would later learn was called Gold Street. Here was where the wealthiest of merchants and businessmen dwelled alongside the members of the ruling families of the Suldom. Mansions of marble and gold with lush green gardens and large lawns lined the street. In larger squares, statues spouted running water into large bowls where thirsty citizens could drink. Even though the wealth of this section was not hidden with modesty, it was clear that the upper class here welcomed the lower classes into their midst. Even though there were differences of station, Nashians believed they were all children of Ilian Nah. Shalthazar smiled at such foolishness. The depth of the deception to which this dark god was capable was truly brilliant.

  Shalthazar brought his attention back to the matter at hand and realized he was now at the main gate leading to the Palace of the Sul. He stopped and waited as the guards, who by now had been informed of his coming, snapped to attention and swiftly raised the gate to the castle compound.

  Upon entering the courtyard, the palace guard had turned out and was waiting in formation. The guards were sharply uniformed and bore an orderly appearance. Each wore brightly polished shields and shiny leather boots and armor. With meticulous precision, each soldier stood exactly even with the man in front, behind, and to the sides; creating perfect alignment. Shalthazar marveled at their snap and polish, and their stoic bearing. These men would likely be efficient and unflappable killers in battle. The kind of soldiers he was accustomed to typically consisted of unwilling farmers and peasants who were sloppily dressed, poorly trained and equipped, and forced to protect the lands of their lords. He was impressed by the apparent discipline and purpose that was uniformly displayed by these regulars. Shalthazar knew well the advantage of having trained professional soldiers over unwilling farmers and he was truly excited at the prospect of the devastation these troops were going to impart on the peoples of the Western Havens.

  The gate slid down and locked into place with a loud echoing boom as he continued into the palace courtyard.

  “Present...arms!” barked the commander of the assembled guards. In response his men smartly saluted as one unit. Shalthazar raised his arm in a return salute as was proper, then lowered it to his side as he continued on toward the castle entrance. Here, he stopped and dropped lightly to the ground, handing over the reins to a nearby stable hand. The nightmare at first appeared as though she wanted to go with the elf and refused to budge. However, after a glance from her master, the intelligent beast silently accepted and followed the stable hand, snorting and blowing her displeasure.

  Shalthazar turned back to face the honor guard and stood face to face with a man in shining armor, fist placed over left breast as he bowed deeply. Shalthazar noticed that there was a picture of crossed swords painted in flat black below the man’s left collarbone, the rank of a captain.

  “I am Captain Ral-An Huhl, commander of the First Company of the Sun Legion. It is my honor to escort you to the presence of the Council of the Sun,” the man said humbly. “Will you follow me, sir?”

  Shalthazar well knew the battle hardened history of the Sun Legion and its favor by the Sul himself.

  “Lead on, Captain.” It was all the elf could do to keep from swaggering, he was so pleased with himself.

  Shalthazar was led deeper into the palace through a series of passageways. Everything about the palace decor paid homage to Ilian Nah and the glory of the Suldom. The murals depicted glorious battle scenes at the moment of Nashian victory. Had he not been educated in the history of this land, he would have guessed the murals fanciful at best. Indeed, the Nashian Army was so effective in battle that they routinely destroyed enemies of vastly superior numbers. One particular painting gave the elf pause. Here was depicted a grizzly scene of gored bodies with one man kneeling among the carnage, his sword tip in a man’s chest, and his head bowed and resting on the hilt.

  “Ah, the Prophet-General admires this painting, yes?” asked Captain Huhl.

  Shalthazar nodded.

  “The Battle of Sun Pass, it is called,” the man said reverently. He was quiet for
a long moment staring at the painting, welling with pride.

  “The finest moment in Nashian battle history, some say. This battle was pivotal in the formation of the Suldom of Nah as we know it today. On that day, Tassan Mo-Sul, led one hundred men to their deaths while defending the Sun Pass against an invasion by our hated enemies, the Azomites. Tassan Mo-Sul survived the onslaught and was the last man alive after killing the last soldier of the Azomites, only to succumb to his own wounds. On that battlefield, Tassan Mo-Sul died.

  “As the ravens and buzzards descended to feed on the flesh of the dead, the Lord Ilian Nah himself descended from the heavens. Ilian Nah raised Tassan Mo-Sul from the dead and proclaimed him lord of this land. Ilian Nah showed Tassan that he had in fact been betrayed by his own king. As Tassan Mo-Sul battled our hated enemies, King Baran Romana treated with the Azomites and sold the Sun Pass to the Azomite king for three of the Azomite king’s daughters. Ilian Nah told Tassan that the whimsical king was no longer fit to rule this great land and instructed him to confront and kill King Romana. With the promise of great power at his disposal, Tassan returned to the king’s palace to confront him. The king was terrified of his general and issued a death warrant for Tassan. Tassan’s popularity outweighed that of the pitiful king and soon, many of the king’s men had flocked to Tassan’s standard.

  “Tassan and his followers gathered the corpses of all the men who died in that pass, friend and foe alike, and deposited them in front of the palace gate. They drove the points of every sword into the ground at the foot of each soldier and placed a helm atop each one, all in perfect military alignment with each other. He wanted the king to feel the cost of betrayal before he killed him. With the king locked away in the palace, Tassan assumed command of the realm. He announced a truce with the Azomites and invited them to grieve the senseless loss of their soldiers with our own people.

  “Eventually, Tassan Mo-Sul forced his way into the palace and captured the king and hanged him from the ramparts above the palace gate. The Azomites felt betrayed by their own king and they too led a bloody revolution. The Azomites have been fast friends to the Nashians ever since and have come to our defense on many occasions.

  “Tassan Mo-Sul is considered the founder of the modern Suldom of Nah and every ruler since has born the title ‘Sul’.”

  “I believe I am familiar with that tale, Captain,” Shalthazar said in a polite, but pointed tone.

  “Forgive me, Prophet-General. I have wasted too much of your time, yes? If you will follow me, sir?” Captain Huhl snapped to attention and sheepishly turned to lead Shalthazar down the hallway.

  The elf had in fact learned some of that tale but he had misunderstood the value these people placed on mortal life. He knew that in order to be successful on this mission he was going to have to adjust his views of what lives were worth to the people he commanded. Formerly, the wizard bore responsibility for no one but himself and the cost of another’s life had always been considered a necessary means to a desired end. However, in this military oriented society, he would be responsible for those beneath him. He had to come to grips with placing value on the lives of those in his employ, or at least act like he did.

  Shalthazar found himself at the end of the richly decorated hallway lit with flickering oil lamps. Standing before a beautiful wooden door was a Keneerie man dressed in highly polished ceremonial armor full of swirling designs, and richly worked in gold and silver. On most of Llars, Keneerie were considered a race below that of the other more reclusive Elvish races and existed in vast numbers across Llars. Keneerie males were known to be successful soldiers and they had an innate understanding of tactics and warfare. They were commonly found among those human societies who considered them more human than Elvish. In the lands of Nah, Keneerie were considered equals in society to humans. They held positions in the noble classes, the warrior classes, and the peasant classes alike. In fact, several generations of Keneerie generals had claimed the title of Sul and ruled Nah over two hundred years ago.

  The Keneerie officer dropped to one knee before Shalthazar and held his sword before him, head bowed low. “My Lord, for five centuries the people of Nah have awaited your coming. I am Graphus of House Harkendu, Supreme Commander of the Forces of the Suldom of Nah. Please accept my sword on behalf of my own lord, Arman Sul.”

  “Very well,” said Shalthazar as he received the sword from Graphus. He brought the pommel of the man’s sword to his forehead, saluting Graphus, then lowered the tip of the blade to Graphus’ head, as was proper.

  “Graphus, I accept your service in the name of Most Holy Ilian Nah.” Shalthazar then commanded Graphus to stand and returned the sword to him.

  “Prophet-General, if you will please follow me I will present you to the court of Arman Sul.”

  “After you, Supreme Commander,” the elf smiled and marveled inwardly at how efficiently Umber’s plan was going. Supreme Commander Graphus opened the massive door with reverence and stepped inside. He then positioned himself at attention and announced, “The Prophet-General of Ilian Nah!”

  A quiet but respectful murmur rippled through the crowd of assembled dignitaries, nobles, and generals.

  Shalthazar was impressed at what he saw here. The room was paneled in dark wood, not unlike a rich cherry. At regular intervals along the walls were large wooden pillars beautifully worked with silver and gold swirling designs. The floor was black marble with a deep red carpet that led from the door to what could only be viewed as a throne. Alongside the carpeted pathway were several rows of individual high-backed chairs, richly worked with those swirling designs and thick cushions. Between the rows of chairs and the throne was an open area with two ornate wooden tables, each with two high-backed chairs. The table on the left was occupied by a pair of commoners, while someone who appeared rather lordly sat at the table to the right. The throne was occupied by a man in armor very similar to that of Supreme Commander Graphus. This man was clearly human with deep lines on his face, hard eyes that had seen much battle and death, angular jaws that were bulging with muscles developed from too much clenching. His gaze commanded respect, and he cast that gaze at Shalthazar and his escort. Off to one side of the room were two rows of raised seats. To the elf, each appeared to be quite like the throne upon which the Sul was seated and their occupants quite lordly in their demeanor.

  “Thank you, Supreme Commander,” Shalthazar said as he returned the Supreme Commander’s salute.

  Graphus and Huhl turned away from Shalthazar and dropped to one knee, fist raised to forehead in salute to their Sul. Shalthazar strode down the scarlet and gold carpet that covered the walkway between the sections of chairs and stood before the Sul. A simple golden circlet adorned with three small rubies rested atop the Sul’s brow, his armor was adorned with intricate designs of silver and gold and a few more well-placed rubies. The power of the Shadow Sigil enhanced Shalthazar’s already keen senses and allowed him to see the magical currents of energy flowing around him; the armor the Sul was wearing glowed like a beacon to the wizard.

  As Shalthazar approached the throne the murmurings continued, yet Arman Sul remained silent; waiting, assessing whether this strange man was really the prophesied Prophet-General. Shalthazar’s station as Prophet-General would be considered equal to that of the Sul of Nah, although he would have no power over the Sul and he would have no power to govern the people. After a tense moment, the Sul stood and smiled warmly at Shalthazar reaching out his hand to the elf. Interestingly, the wizard noted that for one brief moment, this most imperturbable and unflappable being centuries in age was glad - actually glad! - that the Sul dropped his stern gaze and smiled at him. Irritably, the dark elf decided he would have to go and kill or torture someone later to gain back his emotional balance.

  “Welcome, Prophet-General! Ilian Nah has blessed us with your arrival. The glory of our land is at hand!” The Sul turned and faced the visitors to his court seated in the rows of high backed chairs near the entrance. Shalthazar saw that a
mong them were minor nobles and commoners, Keneerie and humans, military men and those who were clearly civilian. The one thing that they all had in common was not lost on the dark elf: zeal. All of these people were devoted to their Sul and faithful to their god. Even the dais where the major nobles sat in judgment appeared respectful and loyal to the Sul; there would be little trouble from this lot. A conservative round of applause with a scattering of cheers came from the courtiers.

  “Those across the sea shall finally pay for the wrongs they have done to us over the centuries!” the Sul shouted, encouraging his people.

  Shalthazar was somewhat surprised at this sentiment. As far as he knew, the other peoples of Llars (but for a few learned sages) had forgotten the existence of the land of Nah. The gathered nobles and officers cheered with the Sul. Then the grizzled war leader began introducing Shalthazar to some of his gathered advisers. Lower level advisers of little import, the elf thought to himself. A palace chamberlain who ran the day to day affairs of the palace and could get the Prophet-General whatever supplies he needed; the Constable General who was in charge of internal security and keeping peace and order throughout the Suldom; a few of the Constable General’s command staff; the mayor of the capital city; the palace treasurer, who may be useful to know; an ambassador from the Azomite Autonomous Region; the Chancellor General who acted as the official representative of the Sul while on diplomatic missions; and others not worth recalling although the elf put on a masterful show of interest and enthusiasm.