Meuric

  As the last of the men left through the Northern Gate, Nathan closed the gate from the inside. The Conclave Troopers waited outside the village with an empty horse. The gateway glowed red momentarily before the mage appeared upon the empty horse. They came last, following a short distance after the War Band unit. Meuric rode to the side of Jemima’s wagon.

  “You wished to talk with me, Jemima,” uttered the Daw’ra man. His tone indicated that it was a statement and not a question. “What is it that you wish to discuss?”

  Jemima gave a quiet nervous laugh. “I am a little embarrassed to be honest,” she admitted. “I know what it is that Petros and Rainier are doing but I do not appreciate it fully.”

  “I do not quite understand what you mean,” he countered quickly. He looked to Anan whose eyes seemed to gleam with a dangerous quality. “You were asked to attend the Council when Radha and I first arrived. You refused saying that you trusted the decisions that we made.”

  Jemima reddened and nodded. “I know but it was always my upbringing that the place of war is the business of men.”

  Meuric shook his head. “As Queen you will need to adapt in times of war, especially with no husband. Here in our lands the women have the equal rights of men. That is why they can sit on the War Councils and even lead armies into battle. You had better learn to do the same otherwise you may find your reign very short indeed, Jemima.”

  Anan inched towards his axe. Meuric turned to him. The large black man at least had the sense not to draw it. Even without his Gifts Meuric knew that he could still be a formidable warrior. He did not shrink away from the Daw’ra man’s cold eyes.

  “I know that you are right, Meuric,” admitted Jemima. “But another part of me was afraid to go. Since the birth of my son we have been constantly hunted, especially of late. Many have died protecting us. What happened at Ah’mos was terrible. It is a dark memory that will never leave me.” She shook her head. “And now I have displaced these people from their homes. I may have placed a mark of death on all of their heads. The last thing that I would wish on them is to antagonise them any further with pointless questions. Abram tells me that all will be well. But all that I hear is a son trying to reassure his worried mother.”

  “But you have no concerns annoying me,” chuckled Meuric. His mood shifted, becoming more sympathetic towards Jemima’s plight. “You no longer have the luxury of playing it safe. This is your life and the life of your boy and a very special boy at that. Everyone in Rabi’a recognises that. If you want to take back your nation you need to stop letting others do things for you and take charge yourself.” Jemima gazed out to a mountain range in the east. Meuric knew that she was carefully considering her next words. She stared directly at the tallest peaks, lost in cloud and covered in snow. “What you see is called the Ay’bel Mountains or the White Mountains,” he explained. “Snow covers them all year round.”

  “Snow,” muttered Jemima in wonder. “Someday I would like to see and feel it for myself.” Meuric looked at her only then remembering that she came from a desert country and she had probably never seen snow before. The Jay’keb woman composed herself. “What about the route that we take?”

  Meuric said, “We are taking boats down the rivers Ra’shel, Sa’been and Sa’cha. That will take us directly to an area known locally as Open Folly.” Seeing the quizzical look on Jemima’s face the Daw’ra man swiftly continued. “The Roz’eli has built a huge wall along the border of its northwest territories and the Kel’akh Nation which they man and patrol. One league north of the wall has been stripped of any cover so that neither side can approach the other without being seen. Naturally incursions happen all the time. Neither wants a direct war but it will be only a matter of time.

  “Do not be fooled, Jemima. The journey will not be without its dangers. There will be Roz’eli patrols and Federate Mercenaries every step of the way. General Agents and discerners hide everywhere. That does not include any Roz’eli or Dark Druid forces that will be sent after us directly.”

  Jemima nodded. She looked fearful but she would adapt, he knew. She had spent her whole life running in fear. Now was the time to fight back. He looked forward and focused on Petros. Next to him was Rainier. Flanking his other side rode Radha. All three were in deep conversation. He felt the stirrings of a new plan being hatched and was more than a little unsettled that he was not included.

  Meuric glanced skyward. He noted that the dark grey clouds were finally drifting away eastward. The scouts had at last disappeared into the distance. No signals of warning had so far been sent back. So far so good. He looked at Jemima. No more questions seemed to be forthcoming.

  “If you will excuse me,” he mumbled.

  Meuric trotted forward and fell in line with the War Band Commander and the two Knights of the Protectorate. He could feel his Gifts returning now and he could not keep the look of relief from his face. He was beginning to feel lost without them.

  Radha looked at him and smiled. “It looks like we are going on a wee trip.”

  Meuric raised his eyebrows. “Where to, may I ask?”

  “We cannot be the only Knights who have survived an attack by the Dark Druid’s men,” said Petros. “I want you two to leave on a separate mission. The first is to travel to Wardens Keep. Because the Link is down the Council of Eight need to be warned of the danger facing us and them. Update the Council on what has transpired so far. After that travel to the different parts of Terit’re. Take whichever Knight Protectors are still alive and bring them to us at Ee’ay.”

  “The Council will not allow that,” considered Meuric aloud. “And more importantly the Religious Conviction will certainly not allow that, no matter the reason. If they learned that Radha was ever here they would have her executed.” He noted Rainier staring at him with a look of horror on his face. “It is against our founding laws,” explained the Daw’ra man. “That is why you only ever see one of us in a designated region.”

  Radha went further. “It is said that far in the past the Protectorate were allowed to grow in numbers, power and wealth. Slowly the power corrupted and a civil war ensued. In fear, the armies of the world gathered against the survivors of that civil war. Everything that we were was almost lost forever but a few survived and began again.”

  “The risk is the religious leaders of the world,” continued Meuric. “Only the head of orders are privy to our actual existence. If they hear that we have gathered in one spot they must assume the worst. By the decree of the old laws they would have every right to gather the armies of the world against us.”

  “One thing at a time,” muttered Petros. “First and foremost is the warning to the Council. Next is the gathering of those of us that are still alive… if any.” He paused and composed himself. “I ask a favour of you both. If Zuleika is there and well, tell her I think of her constantly and hope to be with her again soon.” He sighed deeply. “The two of you must go now. You know our route. Maybe the Council can find a way to track the others without the use of the Link.”

  “You will be two swords down,” commented Meuric.

  “In the grand scheme of things two more swords will not make a bit of difference,” responded Petros. “The men we have are than enough to defend Abram but the two of you might make the difference rescuing others of the Protectorate that are still alive.” He looked to the Daw’ra man. “What do you think?”

  After a moment’s hesitation, “Agreed.”

  The Knight Captain smiled. “Good. You were going anyway.”

  After saying their goodbyes, Meuric and Radha veered their mounts off to the northeast. They did not look back. As was their way, they focused solely on the mission at hand.

  “Do you know where you want to start?” asked Radha after a short distance.

  The Daw’ra man nodded. “Is Baldwin still a Knight Protector of Gahp’ryel?” Radha nodded. “Then we go first to locate the Harbinger of Death before we make our way to Wardens Keep.”

  As they rode, Meuric
wondered about Ladra and his insistence over the years on protecting the boy. He wondered if the supposed Oak Seer and companion to Faeder would agree with their course of action.

  LV

  From a hilltop in the distance Faeder and Ladra watched the goings of the Rabi’a villagers, now disguised in the garb of simple peasant folk. In silence, they observed the wagon train of the village proper as they made their way to the east and into the Great Wood. The view of the land depressed him. Great swathes of the forest had already been cut away to reveal the grassy plains that lay below them.

  To the north, they watched a much smaller party make their way in the direction of Open Folly and towards the safety of the Kel’akh Nation though they had many leagues to cover before getting there. After a short while, they noticed that two of the riders split from Abram’s group.

  “It is Meuric and Radha,” stated Ladra.

  Faeder nodded. “They hope to recruit surviving Knights of the Protectorate and warn those at Wardens Keep.”

  An image burst into the deity’s mind. It was that of the standing armies of man and the Conclave, accompanied by the New Gods, moving against the might of the Dark Ones. Overhead Junives watched all. He recalled the vision of himself warning that this was the wrong path to take. He shuddered.

  “Perhaps I should open another Doorway Narration,” suggested Ladra. “They will not make it to Wardens Keep on time if at all. They certainly will not be able to save any further Knight Protectors.”

  Faeder shook his head and made a show of sniffing the air. “Can you not feel it?” Ladra shook his head. “There are markers set around the land to warn of any magick with our signature. Your Doorway Narration into Rabi’a must have alerted Malitia. She must have recognised the magick as belonging to you. Our very presence here and now may very well be compromised. We cannot help them at this time. We should go.”

  Ladra stared hard at his companion. “As you say, my Lord King,” he muttered guardedly.

  Faeder refused to look directly at the mortal, convinced he would discover the lie if he did so. He could feel Ladra’s eyes boring into him, sense his magickal attempt to pierce his barriers and probe his mind to determine the truth. As powerful a mortal as Ladra was, he had of course no chance of doing so. He made a mental note to lay down a narration around this area later in case the mage decided to return at a future stage to investigate. Junives forgive me, muttered Faeder silently to himself, the Protectorate must not be allowed to unite.

  At a word of magick, the chief deity of the New Gods and the mortal with powers similar to his own promptly vanished.

  EPILOGUE

  “And so here we are now,” continued Meuric. “Three weeks on and we now stand on a forestry hilltop overlooking the border of Gahp’ryel.”

  Dervla aimed a smile over Meuric’s shoulder. “I like her. She is good for you.”

  At some point during his rendition, Radha had woken and entered. The Daw’ra man had been completely oblivious to her so engrossed was he with his storytelling. He had even completely missed that the sun had risen. The spirit stood and turned to leave the way she had come through the forest.

  “Wait,” Meuric called after her. “You can see things from the other side. Tell me, Dervla, can I avoid my fate?”

  The shade smiled sadly at him. She reached out and lightly touched his cheek. Bright blue energy sparkled at their connection. “I am sorry, my sweet husband, but Fari has already decided your fate.”

  Dumbly Meuric nodded. “Then I will make you proud of me at the end, just as much as you and Judoc honoured me.”

  Dervla smiled then and turned to leave.

  “Wait,” called out Radha. The shade paused and turned. “Meuric told me of the vision of your death. He said how you charged into the ranks of the enemy without pause. Did you see the face of the Dark Druid as you charged?”

  Dervla seemed to hesitate before nodding. “I did.”

  “Then can you not tell us who the Dark Druid is?” asked the female protector of Kel’akh.

  The shade smiled sheepishly. “I do not need to, Radha. Meuric already knows who he is.”

  At that, she faded from view.

  THE END

  Look out for

  BEGINNINGS: Part Two

  BRADÁN