The Black Sword Trilogy: The Four Nations

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by VanMeter, Jeffery


  “What question is that?”

  “Do the curtains match the drapes?”

  The mother gasped and the others started laughing.

  “I just wanted to break the tension!” He cried out as his brothers started throwing food at him.

  “You stop that all of you!” The Mother yelled. “Stop that or I’ll make you all clean it up with your tongues!”

  After the meal was finished, the Morgrils at the table began picking up the plates, bowls and cups and carrying them to the small door. The one next to Kenner handed him an empty plate and Kenner didn’t seem to know what to do with it.

  “Don’t be shy,” The Morgril said to him. “It’s our tradition that everyone at the table helps clean up afterwards. Yes, even guests.”

  “Will your mother hit me with the spoon if I don’t?” Terri asked.

  “Not with that spoon. She’s got one that she carved out of a mace that she saves for hitting rude guests.”

  Terri and Kenner followed them into a kitchen where everyone was busy washing pots, pans and cups. Terri helped washing the plates and it reminded her of being back on the farm. She remembered meals with her family and that everyone had a specific job to do after each. Her and her mother washed dishes, her younger brothers swept floors and the older two went out to get firewood, no matter how cold it was or if it was raining or snowing. Once again, she was reminded of home and she was glad of it.

  Kenner was helping to sweep the floor of the dining room with the Morgril with the tan fur. The mother was sitting in a chair and smoking a pipe.

  “Why do you call him ‘The Father’?” He asked.

  “Who,” The Morgril asked.

  “The big guy on the pedestal?”

  “Oh, you mean the Father?”

  “Yes…him. Why do you call him the Father?”

  “Because he is the Father.”

  “Oh…he’s the father of this family.”

  “He’s the father of everyone in this city.” The mother spoke up.

  “How so?”

  She sighed and took a deep draw of her pipe.

  “How old do you think he might be?” She asked Kenner.

  “Pretty old, I guess.”

  “Try a number.”

  Kenner thought for a moment.

  “Seventy? Seventy five?”

  The woman laughed heartily.

  “You’re not even close.”

  “A hundred?”

  The Morgril with the tan fur laughed.

  “You’re still not in the same country.” He chuckled.

  “How old is he, then?” Kenner asked.

  “No one knows for sure.” The mother told him. “The only thing we know of his age is that he hasn’t moved out of that chair for two hundred years.”

  Kenner almost dropped his broom.

  “You’re kidding?” He exclaimed.

  “I’m afraid not.”

  “That’s interesting, but it still doesn’t tell me why you call him ‘The Father’.”

  The Morgril woman lowered her head and then had a very sad look on her face.

  “Do you know anything about our history?” She asked Kenner.

  “A Morgril named Saab told me you were once great thinkers and builders.”

  Kenner then noticed the younger Morgril stop sweeping and an angry look cross his face.

  “Let it go.” The Mother said to the young Morgril.

  He went back to his sweeping and Kenner almost asked what had happened, but the mother began talking again.

  “Yes we were,” She continued. “We were the most advanced people in the known world. At one time, we were the most populace as well. We had hundreds of cities all over the land, some on the surface with great towers, buildings and statues, others like this one, built underground. We helped your people a lot when you first started coming out of your caves, but eventually you began to envy us and fear us. Your ancestors drove us from our farms and fields in Walechia and the Lords of Masallah started pushing us back from the mountains and hills we had terraced to support us there. But it was never enough. No matter how much we gave in for the sake of peace, your ancestors could never have enough.”

  “What they feared the most was the possibility that we would use our knowledge to build weapons and fight back. So the Kings of Walechia slaughtered our people, burned our cities and then drove us completely out. The Lords of Masallah and the early kings began doing similar, but then one King decided it wasn’t enough to simply win one war or another. He started systematically exterminating us. To make a long story short, we were reduced to only one male and three females. From those few, we began repopulating and moving back into the city you are in now.”

  “That’s not the same story that Saab told me.” Kenner said.

  “That’s because he’s a liar and a traitor!” The younger Morgril growled.

  Just at that moment, a tall Morgril with black fur knocked at the door and entered.

  “I’m sorry to disturb you, Madam.” He said to the woman. “But the father says it’s time.”

  Kenner noticed that they were all looking at him and felt concern from Shela. He knew that the Morgril was talking about him.

  Chapter Forty One

  “What do you mean the King won’t take his medicine?” Bleylock asked his servant from the fire.

  Leyews, on his knees trembled before his master.

  “I’ve tried, Master. He simply refuses to take it. He has his guards in front of his bed and he’s given orders that no one is to bring him anything but wine and the wine has to be tasted. He’s refusing to eat and won’t sleep. The only one allowed within five steps of his bed is that girl.”

  “The paranoia is expected,” Bleylock added. “But his body should be desperate for the medicine at this point. How long has it been?”

  “Three days, Master.”

  “Three days? He must be in terrible pain.”

  “Most terrible, Master. He screams and howls throughout the day and night. He weeps like a child…”

  “I don’t care about the noises he makes.” Bleylock said sharply. “I need him to be taking that medicine so that I can control him. This is not a good time for him to suddenly become unpredictable.”

  “But what if he dies?” Leyews asked in a hopeful voice. “Then all of our problems would be solved.”

  “If he dies the Congress will elect a new King; perhaps even a strong King and it will take years for me to gain control of him. No, I need Melkur alive and under control.”

  “But I don’t understand.”

  “It is not your place to understand!” Bleylock shouted through the flames. They flared out of the fireplace and Leyews was nearly burned by them. The flames died down for a second while Bleylock thought.

  “This development is unfortunate, but not fatal.” Bleylock continued. “You must find a way to get him the potion, no matter what the obstacle.”

  “But how, my Master?”

  “Must I think of everything for you?”

  Still trembling, the servant did not answer.

  “Very well,” Bleylock said. “Every man has a price. His guards may not be bought with money, but their time can be borrowed. Go into the city and hire the most beautiful prostitutes you can find.”

  “These are loyal guards, Master. They will not leave their posts…”

  “Do not interrupt me!”

  The flames flared again.

  “Bring them into the Kings chamber with wine laced with a sleeping potion. Once they have fallen asleep, give the King his medicine no matter what his objections. Pour it down his throat if you have to.”

  It did not take long for Leyews to find two beautiful, young prostitutes and with the silver he offered them and the promise of a night in the palace, they were more than willing. After he brought them into the palace, he had to bribe every guard he came across in order to sneak them through to the King’s private chamber. On a table outside the chamber door was a platter with a bottle
of wine and two stone goblets. Leyews poured the wine into the two goblets and then added drops of a potion from a glass vial.

  When he entered the chamber, the two guards immediately snapped to attention and drew their swords.

  “It is late, Doctor,” One of them said firmly. “No one is allowed near the King at this hour.”

  “I have brought you both some company.” He said smiling at them.

  The two girls followed after him and smiled alluringly at the guards while each held a goblet of wine in their hands.

  “We will not leave our posts, conjurer.”

  “I’m not asking you to leave your posts. I know the nights can be long and boring and I brought you these ladies simply for some company and conversation.”

  “Just so?”

  “I swear it on my life.”

  They looked at each other with suspicious looks and then sheathed their swords.

  “If that is so, it’s very kind of you, Doctor.”

  The girls gave the wine to the guards and within moments they fell to the floor asleep. Leyews told the girls to find empty rooms in the palace to sleep and he was then alone with the King, or so he thought.

  With the cup full of potion in his hand, he pulled back the curtain surrounding the King’s bed. Melkur was pale and sweaty. His breathing and labored and he trembled all over. Leyews tried to rouse the King by shaking him, but Melkur only mumbled something he couldn’t hear. He resolved that what would have to do was pour the potion into the King’s open mouth and then hold his nose closed so that he would swallow it.

  He leaned over Melkur’s body and placed the cup over the King’s face. As he started to tip the cup so that the potion would pour into Melkur’s mouth, the girl in the bed suddenly awoke.

  “What are you doing?” She said in a start.

  “Be quiet girl.” Leyews tried whispering angrily at her, but she was soon shouting and struggling with Leyews.

  “Guard! Guard!” She yelled. “He’s trying to poison the King! He’s trying to poison the King!”

  One of the guards heard this and dizzily began to wake up. Through bleary eyes, he saw a man standing over the bed and holding something in his raised hand. By instinct, he drew his blade and stumbled out of the chair he’d fallen in to. Using his sword almost like a cane he stood up again and plunged his sword into the back of the blurry figure.

  High up in a Blackwood tree, Kayla was cradled softly by branches and vines that intertwined to make her bed. She was more than comfortable as even the normally hard wood had softened and conformed to her every curve and the leaves had formed a soft, down-like pillow. But she could not sleep.

  She hadn’t been able to sleep an entire night since the attack by the creature and her being called beyond the veil. Painful truths had been revealed to her about people she thought she knew and their awful intentions. Even Saab, one of her closest friends and advisors had been proven to be a traitor. She had discovered that he was watching her for the Dark Lord Bleylock and was supposed to assassinate her when he had the chance. For when she was dead, a new Lady of the Woods would then be chosen; one that would more likely continue their traditional policy of staying out of the world’s business.

  But what was she to do, she worried? She could confront him, she thought; perhaps even kill him. But he had been so loyal. He’d been a good friend when she had needed one. There had been times when he was there for her when she could turn to no one else. She’d shared secrets with him and opened her heart to him. Had he been human, she may even have loved him. Why hadn’t he murdered her before? What was he waiting for?

  She started to drift off to sleep when she heard the voices from the Sanctuary. They were low and quiet at first; barely whispers. She thought they might have been merely part of a dream at first and tried to ignore them. They soon grew louder and clearer. A name was being called over and over. When she realized the name, she awoke with a start.

  The branches gently lowered her to the ground and she almost ran to the Sanctuary. When she reached the steps, she heard Saab call out to her.

  “Is everything alright, My Lady?” He asked her.

  She froze for a moment. She was alone with no guards or archers watching her. She was vulnerable. Was this the moment he had been waiting for? An even more frightening thought occurred to her. Had the Sanctuary been calling her to her own murder? Had the woods decided her fate?

  She looked at him and he was merely standing near her. She didn’t say anything at first. She tried to compose herself and not give away that she knew his intention. She also still wondered if she had been misinformed. Perhaps he wasn’t her murderer. She peered at him through the darker light. He had no weapon that she could see. Perhaps it wasn’t the time or he didn’t really intend to kill her, she thought.

  “Everything’s fine,” she said in an attempt at a calm voice. “I just need to look at something in the Sanctuary.”

  “It’s very late, My Lady,” he told her. “Perhaps you shouldn’t be out here alone at this hour.”

  She forced a smile and a laugh.

  “What have I to fear in the forest?” She asked in a teasing voice.

  She heard his familiar grunt that was as close to a laugh as she knew she would get from him. She started up the steps and half way up, looked back at him to see if he had followed her. He was still at the bottom of the steps looking up at her, but when she looked at him, he turned and walked away to her great relief.

  By the time she entered the Sanctuary, the voices had stopped calling. Looking around, she didn’t see her, but could feel her presence. She must have gone behind the veil, she thought. She was slightly startled by the sound of the doors closing, but felt safer inside the Sanctuary.

  She knew that the only thing she could do was wait. It reminded her of the time that Terri was called behind the veil, but this was different. She was jealous of Terri being called, but happy for her. Something good and wonderful had happened then; something with a great promise. She was apprehensive now. This didn’t feel as hopeful or promising. This felt darker and troubling. She wanted to know what was happening and was frustrated by the fact that she could only wait.

  She examined the Sanctuary which still looked unfamiliar. The grass had grown and was beginning to look wild. Many of the flowers had withered, but new blooms had appeared. The stream still trickled quietly and there was still a tear down the center of the veil. There was a stillness inside the Sanctuary that she’d only known when she visited at night. It was as if it were resting but not quite sleeping.

  She walked in the grass for only a few moments but it had felt like longer. The older woman then walked from behind the veil with a sad, but determined expression. Kayla then knew why she had been called behind the veil and her heart sunk.

  “Why does it have to be you?” She asked her almost crying.

  The older woman looked up at her and her eyes penetrated Kayla’s heart.

  “Because I’m the only one who can accomplish this task.” She said sadly.

  “That can’t be true. I can go. I can do it.”

  “No. It has to be me.”

  “But he will destroy you.” Kayla implored her.

  The woman nodded sadly, but then looked at Kayla with serious eyes.

  “There can only one Lady of the Woods at a time.” She told Kayla. “And I’ve hidden from Kenner long enough.”

  In the palace of Glahm, King Kryam walked from behind the curtain that separated him from the rest of the world. It had been two hundred years since a King of Masallah had come out to face his people in the great hall, but never before thought Kryam had it ever been more necessary. The throne, cut out of a block of the mountain and rising high above the floor of the hall sat in between the two statues of Kings Ellorid and Gregor, both in imposing poses and wielding an image of the Stone Hammer. When he looked down on the royal court they were on their knees and bowing with their faces to the floor for no one was allowed to look the King of Masallah in the fa
ce.

  “The time has come my people,” He announced in his booming voice, “For the great people of Masallah to unite in the face of war! It is a war we do not ask for, but it is a war that we can not avoid! The forces of Walechia are crossing the Serpent River and will move toward the pass of Paribas. In three short months they will come through the mountains to take from us that which the Great Mother has given. They mean to kill Masallah’s sons, violate Masallah’s daughters and defile our sacred lands. But they will not find us unprepared. Today, I send forth my generals throughout my Kingdom to build an army the likes of which the world has never seen. One Hundred Thousand of Masallah’s sons will be called to fight our enemy. They will be called from the mountains. They will be called from the foothills. They will be called from the farms and from the fields. And if need be, we will enlist the Morgrils to fight in our cause. When the army of Walechia comes through the mountains, they will find us ready and waiting to crush them to the last man. And when that task is done, we will march forth to unite the land under the true and rightful King descended from the Great Mother herself. We will avenge the men who have died at the hands of Walechia and bring a last and permanent peace under the just rule of the descendants of the Mother. With the sacred Stone Hammer in my hands, I will ride at the head of my army and shatter everything that stands in my way until justice prevails and peace reigns forever!”

  Chapter Forty Three

  Kenner was surprised by what he saw when he passed through the door. It was a simple path through the forest. It was no tunnel of light or grand temple at the top of a mountain. It was just a little path that led through the forest to what looked like a clearing less than a moment’s walk away. He still felt the presence he felt back in the temple, but it didn’t seem as imposing as before. It was all around him, but not threatening. He felt neither fear nor comfort from it being near. It was simply there.

  Another presence was there as well and a familiar one. He felt a little comforted by the presence of Shadow, but he was still apprehensive at the moment. He looked behind him to the door and she was there. She was bathed in a silvery light much like the light from the city and she bore her familiar sweet smile.

 

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