The Heretic's Song (The Song's Of Aarda Book 1)

by K Schultz

  “How many of them are there?” Rehaak asked, ending his silence and breaking into the conversation.

  “I can’t say, dis wuz more’n ten years back and Voerkett,” she spat on the floor again, “claimed dey wuz gainin followers every day. I suspect dat duh travelin we done, when we wuz first together, was him settin up a network o’ dese people.”

  “So they have been preparing for over ten years and are planning a war with the Eniila?” Laakea questioned.

  “Oh it be wors’n dat lad. Dey also be tryin tuh wipe out dose who follows duh Ol’ Way too, and near as I can tell, duh three of us, an duh Millers be duh only ones left.”

  “What’s the Old Way?” Laakea looked puzzled.

  “The Old Way is what Isil’s people called believing in and following The Creator, or The Faithful One,” Rehaak explained to Laakea.

  “How do you know they are trying to destroy those who follow The Creator Isil?”

  “Because on duh day I wuz tellin yuh bout. Duh day when dey skinned my folks alive! Duh day when dey cut muh baby’s throat as an offerin tuh Ashd’eravaak while I watched!” Her words tumbled out, as if the answer should be clear.

  “I’m sorry Isil, but if they intended to wipe out The Creator’s followers — I don’t understand, do you?” said Laakea, as looked at Rehaak.

  He paused while Isil tried to control her emotions, and Rehaak just looked puzzled.

  They sat silent for a few moments more, while Isil fought to control her feelings and complete her explanation. She contained her emotions for a while, but howled with grief now, as an inner floodgate of sorrow burst. Her grief poured out in a torrent from the reservoir of her broken heart. Hearing her own story, spoken aloud for the first time, in her own voice had broken it free and it swept her along in its powerful current.

  “This is something I don’t understand either, Laakea. If they tried get rid of all The Creator’s followers —” Rehaak balanced his volume so that Laakea could hear him above Isil’s sobbing, but not disrupt her grief.

  “I know,” he replied, matching Rehaak’s volume. “Why’d they let her live? If she’s a follower of the Old Way, they should have killed her too.”

  Isil stopped sobbing as he was speaking. He spoke those words into that momentary silence. She looked up at the two men leaning toward each other in conversation, her grief overcome by another stronger emotion. She hung her head as her face flushed, under the overall darkness of her complexion. Both men turned to her, in response to her sudden silence, realizing that she had overheard their discussion. It was their turn to be embarrassed.

  “I can answer dat for yuh,” she murmured. Her eyes never left the floor in front of her while she spoke. “Dey made me one of dem.”

  “What!” both men blurted simultaneously, and then fell silent, waiting for an explanation.

  “Dey made me one of dem,” she repeated, looking up from the floor, anger blazed in her eyes, as if the answer was plain to the dullest person in Aarda.

  “I’m sorry Isil. I do not see how they could —”

  She took a deep breath, as if she prepared to lift something weighty.

  “Duh oath,” she paused. “Dey made me forswear duh Old Way, and made me swear allegiance tuh Ashd’eravaak. A blood oath.” She lowered her eyes to the floor again, speaking into her own chest.

  “How did they compel you to swear an oath?”

  “By tellin me dey was gonna murder muh baby if I didn’ do what dey said.” The men could feel her anger rising again, as she spoke.

  “How’s that possible? Didn’t you just tell us they cut his throat while they forced you to watch?”

  “Dey made me swear duh oath first. Voerkett tol’ me dat great power demands great sacrifices, and we should be willin tuh offer duh greatest sacrifice he could think of, duh life of our son. So he killed Eyhan right dere himself — right in front of me. He drained duh life out of our baby right dere and laughed at me duh whole time he done it,” she snarled.

  Rehaak and Laakea exchanged glances, before she began again.

  “Ashd’eravaak came, a black shadow he was, an touched me den — touched muh face just for a moment. I felt his power, as he drained life outta me. I thought he had stole muh soul. Dey cut me loose den and said dey had anudder use for me, a use dat would seal my covenant with Ashd’eravaak.”

  Dey took turns ruttin on me, and I let dem cause I didn’ feel nuthin anymore. It wuz like muh soul withered away inside me, and I wuz just an empty husk. When I saw muh face, once I got home, I looked like I felt. I wuz no longer young or pretty, but as yuh sees me now.”

  “It is impolite to ask a lady her age,” Rehaak began with trepidation. “But, how old are you?”

  “It’s a fair question I s’ppose. I have seen thirty-seven summers.”

  “She’s not much older than you, Rehaak!” Laakea said, in astonishment.

  “Ashd’eravaak did it when he touched me. He stole muh life and he took muh innocence. Dat leaves me with you and duh lad, trying tuh make amends for what I done.”

  “I don’t understand why you must make amends for anything,” Laakea breathed. “You were a victim not —” he struggled to find the words.

  “Yes.” Rehaak jumped into the silence. “You made your oath under duress, and they violated the terms of the oath when they killed your son, An oath like that is not binding.”

  “But still and all, I submitted tuh dere vile uses and I still feel unclean. I didn’t try tuh resist,” Isil said, looking at the floor again. “I don’ know if I’ll ever feel clean again, but at least I’m free of dere power now.”

  “You never had a choice, Isil. They raped you.”

  Laakea rose from his seat, walked over to the older woman and knelt beside her. He wrapped his arms around her, while Rehaak watched without comment. Rehaak had never seen Laakea offer physical comfort to anyone. He waited a moment before joining the youngster in embracing Isil. Before long, all three of them were weeping together for her loss. She had emboldened them both to share their common frailty with each other, because of her honest confession.

  “Dere’s just one more thing tuh tell. I thought dere wuz none o’ us left till I met yuh Rehaak. I cried when yuh sang your song o’ thanksgiving over dat first meal we shared, because — dat day — somethin in my heart broke free. I began tuh remember all duh stuff I had forgotten, not just duh bad stuff I done told yuh, but good stuff too. Stuff muh folks used tuh tell me about duh Creator. It wuz like I came alive again, after bein dead fer so many years. Dat’s duh real reason I am here tuh join yuh. I am alive again and I wants tuh make it right with duh Creator.”

  Rehaak looked at Isil, as they still held her in their embrace. She was looking into his eyes with tears streaming down her face.

  “I’m free, an you wuz duh one what done it for me. I got muh soul back. Yuh set me free with your song, so dey got no more power over me, but dey wants power over all of Khel Braah. As long as dere is followers of duh Creator here, dey can’t have duh power dey wants fer some reason. Dey can’t, til all of us be dead, or worshipin duh Dark Ones. We be a threat tuh dere plans.”

  “Do you know what we do that prevents them from taking over Aarda?” Rehaak asked, as he and Laakea released her from their embrace.

  “I don’ know if’n it’s what we do, or if’n it’s who we are, or what we are dat does it,” She said.

  “I don’t understand Isil,” said Laakea, as he moved back to his seat.

  “Neither does I,” she replied.

  “I think we better find out soon, before they send a larger force against us. So far, we have been dealing with small groups, like raiding parties. If they can find us and track us long enough, they may send an irresistible force. We are lucky there were no survivors, from the encounters, to send word about our location,” Laakea said, deep concern showing on his face.

  Rehaak and Isil shuddered, as if the room had grown colder.

  “What is wrong with the two of you?” Laakea
asked noticing their strange behavior.

  “Dere wuz survivors Laakea, two of dem from duh first fight Rehaak and I had on duh trail, did he not tell yuh bout dat.”

  “Yes he told me, but he never mentioned survivors.”

  “I did not think it was important. How was I to know?”

  “We must move quickly then, before they locate us here. It’s too late to go tonight, and I won’t go unprepared. We may as well hear your story now Rehaak,” said Laakea. “Then I’ll tell mine. I think it’s important to have as much information as possible, before we continue.”

  Chapter 25

  While Rehaak prepared, they all sat silently, digesting the information Isil had given them.

  Rehaak was calm, ready to expose his shortcomings to the only two people he cared for, or for that matter, cared for him. Laakea and Isil had saved his life. He owed them a decent explanation, since they risked everything for him; they must understand what sort of man he was. After hearing Isil’s story, he could do no less. Once they knew everything, he hoped they would forget joining him on the quest that devoured so many years of his life.

  “Well,” he began. “I will start in the middle, with a few bits of preamble to anchor it in time.”

  “Once I became convinced of The Creator’s existence, I realized our tales and histories contained blanks, but there were clues to greater knowledge of Him. I wandered for years throughout western Kel Braah, to places spoken of in lore and written in legend, places lost to memory, haunted barren wastelands that were once great cities. I prowled forgotten ruins, covered by the dust of a thousand years, and walked on cratered streets that had not felt human footsteps in a hundred generations. My voice echoed in marketplaces abandoned by vendors and hawkers centuries ago. I wandered those streets and saw wonders and marvels men have not seen for millennia, all crumbling into dust and decay.”

  “Sometimes I struggled to decipher fragments of drawings and writings on stone and parchment until I thought I might go mad, or blind, or both. I once spent a week deciphering a half-discernible scrawl that read, ‘For a good time see’ —”

  “My mind struggled to understand the purpose of incredible machinery, abandoned and left to rust. I lived in caves and makeshift shelters or whatever lodging the ancient places afforded. My obsession led me to abandoned libraries in the ancient cities. I questioned the oldest inhabitants of places I visited. It was a miracle I found so much, but my discoveries never brought me closer to the Aetheriad.”

  “What did you do for supplies?” Laakea interrupted.

  “When the money from my family ran out, I either worked odd jobs, ate what I found along the road or went hungry. Later on I discovered a gift for healing, which stood me in good stead with people in the places I visited. That, however, is just the beginning. Through my explorations, first, I found out several things, men were more numerous in the distant past; second, we had knowledge and technology far beyond our imagining, knowledge lost for many generations; third, the three species of mankind lived together in peace, for millennia, long ago.”

  Rehaak paused for effect, “Cooperation dissolved into mistrust, and then degenerated into outright warfare. That war continued for centuries, and ended in the complete separation of our three species. The Eniila and the Abrhaani stayed close enough to continue skirmishing, until we stopped fighting little more than a decade ago, but the Sokai disappeared during the conflict. No one has or seen them in many generations. They might have perished in the wars, although no record of their involvement in the fighting exists.”

  “I needed more information, and every librarian I met told me I might find what I needed in the Scriptorium of Narragansett.”

  “I traveled to Narragansett with a caravan and when I arrived, I headed straight for the Scriptorium. When I got there, the sheer volume of material shocked me. Imagine seeing stacks of scrolls, manuscripts, and bound volumes filling enormous rooms. What I needed may still be there but it was like trying to find a single pearl dropped at the bottom of the Syn Gersuul.”

  “I sorted through much of it. Fortune smiled upon me, because their method of keeping similar types of documents together worked in my favor. I was looking for the oldest records. A delightful soul had stored the oldest parchments in a room by themselves. Most scholars did not bother with the most ancient writings, since they believed those writings were mere legends with no basis in reality.”

  Those scrolls had fallen out of use and many were crumbling into dust. It was an enormous task, but I found material that corroborated my theories and several works mentioned an even older volume. A book called the Aetheriad, also known as the Chronicles of Aarda. Then I ran into a dead end. There were clues about its contents, and vague hints of its location at the time of the writings, but nothing about its present location. That is just background information.”

  “The real story, as Isil says, is this,” Rehaak gathered his resolve.

  “The real story is — I abandoned the Faithfull One and the quest he gave me. Isil, they coerced you into renouncing Him, but I forsook Him of my own free will. I bear the full blame for my own sins.”

  Isil and Laakea sat without comment watching their friend confess. They detected the shame in his tone and expressions, and withheld their comments as they waited for Rehaak to pick up the thread of his story and continue.

  “The problem, I suppose, was that I became famous. I had nothing most of my life. I craved the ability to live in affluence. People sought me for my wisdom and they paid me for my counsel. Soon I became wealthy and well known. Powerful men sought my council and beautiful women sought my bed. Money flowed through my fingers as water flows through rocks in a streambed. I spent my nights in drinking and debauchery and my days advising people who paid for my services. Selfishness and greed took root in my heart and I no longer cared for the truth or for the people and their problems. My only interest was what people would pay me and what I could gain with that wealth.”

  “I tried to convince myself of my importance and significance, but I knew my accomplishments were hollow. I knew I should continue my search for proof of The Creator’s existence and that I should share my knowledge of Him with others. My sloth, my greed, and my desire for importance trapped me in a prison without walls, a prison I created.”

  “Soon I began telling people what they wanted to hear instead of the truth, and lost my credibility.”

  “Then, in the midst of the debauchery and deceit, The Creator proved why people call him the Faithful One. In spite of my abandoning Him, He spoke and gave me a message for our people. My job was to warn them of the destruction threatening to overtake Aarda, unless they sought Him and followed Him once more. He alone has the power to protect us from the coming holocaust.”

  “Because I had squandered the currency of my respect and integrity, no one believed me. When they could tolerate my ranting no longer, they exiled me from Narragansett. Once again, I had failed The Creator.”

  “In anger and frustration, I renounced The Creator for a second time, and headed south toward New Hope, where you found me on the trail, Isil. The time I spent in the forest clearing would have continued if Laakea, had not joined me there. So once again, external circumstances thwarted my slothfulness. The consistent pattern of my life has been, I do nothing, unless driven to it. I am an undisciplined beast that a herdsman must goad into action. How can you trust my fickle nature?”

  “It seems more important than ever that we join you,” Laakea murmured. “If the Faithful One won’t let you give up your mission, it must be very important.”

  Rehaak shook his head slowly from side to side in disbelief.

  “If you need Isil and me to keep you focused on The Creator’s plan then so be it. I have sworn a Sword Oath to you and it cannot be discharged short of death, either yours or mine.”

  “But how can you be sure I won’t desert you when things get difficult? Why should you trust me when I am unreliable, unscrupulous, and undisciplined and do not e
ven trust myself?”

  “I’d say yuh got it backwards. It’s not you we be trustin, but duh Creator. He be duh one what is moving all of us along like driftwood in duh current. He will get us where we needs tuh be. If yuh ain’t figured dat out yet, yuh be a whole lot dumber dan we thinks. We all got our faults. Don’t think yuh be any different dan duh rest of us. We take yuh as yuh are just like yuh done for us. Right lad?”

  “That’s right Rehaak, you didn’t ask questions when I came to live with you. You accepted me without knowing me, or my past, so I must accept you too.”

  “Yes, but I am a fraud.”

  “And we don’t pay it no mind,” Isil snorted.

  “That’s fine Laakea, except my life did not depend on you. I was safe. It cost me nothing except —”

  “You still say that after what you seen me capable of?” interrupted Laakea, his anger rising. “Stepping into a Blood Debt between my father and me could have cost your life. You didn’t know what you were getting into with either of us. I might fail you. I could have left you to die at the hands of those assassins or killed you myself!”

  “But you did not, and proved you are an honorable man while I am a deceitful, shiftless, oath breaker!” Rehaak protested.

  “You had no way of knowing that, when you rescued me. You are who you are, and I am a cold-blooded killer!” Laakea shouted.

  Isil stepped between the two angry men and pushed them apart. She looked from one to the other. “Yuh both be right, and I am a whore used by Ashd’eravaak’s followers. Yet we is duh ones duh Creator has picked fer dis job. If yuh wants tuh argue with anybody, argue with Him.”

  “But Isil,” Rehaak objected. “We are not sure what The Creator wants from us.”

  “I say we continue as we have, and trust He is not called the Faithful One without cause,” Laakea argued forcefully. “Things are becoming clearer as we go. We must move quickly but we need not panic just yet. My father used to say, ‘Although the outcome of a battle is uncertain, giving up, ensures defeat.’ We must fight or die.”