by Geno Allen
Zam found himself walking along a precipice. Before him and to the right lay Valkiliar. Though he had never seen it before, he knew it. Griss was walking beside him. To his left was a sheer, thousand foot drop. Raim Sabbar was flying there beside him using slow, deep strokes of his wing to keep pace with his friends. It was tiring work flying that way, and weariness was creeping into Raim Sabbar’s face with every stroke.
Ahead the precipice turned and followed the path they were on. Zam looked around. Every path had a precipice to the left. Surely there is a path Raim Sabbar can travel and not be wearied. He looked across an open field to the right, and as he planned where they would walk a path appeared there, and a precipice opened to the left of it. There was no safe place for Raim Sabbar.
Zam looked back. Behind them there was no drop. Only open land. The beautiful fiery and emerald trees were scattered here and there as were several large boulders. Zam stopped and turned fully back that direction. The precipice vanished completely. Both Raim Sabbar and Griss were standing on solid ground. Can this mean I am to turn back?
He felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned. It was Tearis reaching as high as she could to tap him. “You can’t turn back, Zam, or you’ll miss your chance to save Raine.”
He knew it was true, and the dream's point struck home. He turned back to Raim Sabbar as Tearis vanished. “You cannot come with us.”
Raim Sabbar didn’t understand. “But I am bound to you, to protect you. I must come.”
With sorrow in his voice Zam replied, “I too feel bound to you, to this country of Darlandis, but I must go on and you must turn back. You will not survive if you come, and I could not bear that. You are the last Tal'kyon. I cannot be party to seeing your noble race end.”
Raim Sabbar struggled to find words.
Griss, who had remained silent until now, spoke, “You know he speaks truth, Raim Sabbar. You know in your heart. You must go back, though I wish you could come.” Griss wrapped his arms around the large creature’s neck, and bade him farewell. Zam followed in like fashion.
As Raim Sabbar turned and walked toward the trees, the others turned back toward Valkiliar, which seemed nearer somehow. Zam stole one last glance at Raim Sabbar who had just reached the trees. Suddenly the boulders awoke and many Tal’kyon ceased their slumber.
Zam awoke to the rising sun streaming through the window.
“Good Morning, Zam,” Griss said as he strapped his sword to his side and pulled his boots back on.
“Good morning.”
Griss looked closely at him. “Did you sleep well?”
“Comfortably... yes...”
“Are you all right, Zam?” Griss asked with genuine concern.
Zam wiped sleep, and a hint of tears, from his eyes as he pondered his dream a moment, in particular the end. “I know what must be done for Raim Sabbar... though I do not like it.”
Griss sat back down. “Tell me.”
When Bondur came to the window, Griss and Zam had eaten the remaining fruit and discussed their travel plans. “Did you see the present I left for you, Zam?”
“I apologize, Bondur. I did not see….”
“That’s all right, Zam. There.” He motioned with his front leg. “Beside the bed.”
Where Bondur had pointed lay a sword. Its golden sheath decorated with engraved banners bearing the names of soldiers who had used it in ages past. He pulled it from its sheath and it was so clean and sharp it seemed as though it had never seen battle.
Bondur scuttled over beside Zam, standing only to the height of his shin. “It’s a sight better than what you had, but not much in the grand scheme. It’s no dragon blade.”
“It’s wonderful! It’s the grandest sword I’ve ever seen. Thank you.” Zam continued to look it over.
“Well, it’s nothing. I mean to say, you are welcome. There is an armory here that was left well stocked when men abandoned this land. I merely cleaned it for you.”
“Again, thank you. It is one of the finest gifts I have ever received.”
Bondur bowed slightly. “It has been long since one so young has come to Noralie and I. You have a good heart, and we want it to be protected. Master Griss may search the armory for anything he feels may help in your journey.”
Griss bowed and thanked him.
Bondur walked toward the window. “Now, if the two of you would like, Raim Sabbar has gone ahead to the School of Trees. I believe he intended for you to follow. I will lead the way.”
They followed Bondur out the window and down the ladder. The courtyard seemed a much more pleasant place in the daylight, save for the dead man in the web.
Bondur noticed Zam looking at it. “Ah yes... that, Zam, was one who came to destroy the School of Trees. When our guardians caught him he died, and... well, I am not one to waste food. But fear not, I have never hunted nor killed a man myself.”
“I suppose Noralie hasn’t either?”
Bondur replied nonchalantly, “Oh, no. She has.”
They continued around the inside wall of the courtyard past the presenting area with the dais and thrones. From here the wall extended far past the edge of the outpost around an open area—presumably once used for training—and on to enclose a large grouping of trees.
Bondur said, “Beyond the wall on the far side, is a sheer drop for hundreds of feet. That is how the School is protected from the north.”
Zam asked, “Bondur, how did you get the trees and vines to be your guardians?”
“Well, that’s simple, don’t you think?” He looked at Zam, and realized it was not simple to him, nor to Griss. “Hmm... well, we befriended them. How else do you get one’s help?” He looked again at the two men. “Doesn’t make sense to you, does it? Hmm... I will just have to let Raim Sabbar explain. He has more experience speaking with men. I could count with my legs the number of men I have conversed with in all my years... and they are long.” He glanced up. “Ah, we’re almost there.”
Zam would have never thought to enjoy the company of a spider, but he found Bondur friendly and engaging. Every word the hairy spider spoke seemed to bring him joy. He looked over at what he assumed was the old training area and found remnants of wooden men that had been used as archery targets. He looked again to the trees ahead, a few were highlighted to his mind. Those are the trees from my dream. He looked for the boulders he'd seen, but there were none.
As they passed through the trees Zam felt a certainty that he would succeed in his quest. The fiery and emerald trees were all that populated this place, and when Bondur and his guests reached the center of the trees, they found a wide, round clearing. In the center was another circular arrangement of stones, similar to the presenting area. Directly across from where they entered, one quarter of the circle was raised. Raim Sabbar stood atop the raised portion, looking as though he belonged there, as if it had been raised just for him. He had his eyes closed and was listening.
Zam could hear nothing, but felt a sadness growing, then exhilaration, and a moment later a peaceful lull. He looked again to Raim Sabbar, who was whispering something softer than the gentlest breeze. Another moment and the Tal'kyon was listening again. Fear crept into Zam and lingered a moment, but then a sense of determination filled him almost to bursting.
Raim Sabbar opened his eyes, immediately fixing his gaze on Zam. He bowed, whispered something and stepped from the raised stones. When he did the peaceful lull returned. “Good morning, Windwater... Griss.”
Noralie, who had been standing beside him, followed. “Yes. Good morning you two. Did you feel that?” she asked joyously. She knew they had.
Zam looked at Griss, who had obviously felt it too, then back to Noralie. “What was that?”
She looked to Raim Sabbar, who approached them and sat down. The previous night’s sadness had lifted. “I was talking with the School of Trees. There are few left on earth who recall their language, and fewer who can speak it.”
“I heard nothing,” Zam said.
Norali
e answered. “Most only feel emotion or the intent of their words… and that is what you felt.”
Zam puzzled at that. “This is the School of Trees?”
“In ancient days it was called the Council of Trees. Kings would come here with their generals and one of their loyal dragons. The dragon would stand there.” She motioned to where Raim Sabbar had been. “Though I think it better suited to a Tal'kyon. The dragon would then act as translator for the king and his men.”
Griss looked about the clearing and recognized some of the markings on the stones. It was, from what he could read, a place of war and counsel. “Noralie, why is it now called the School of Trees?”
“That, good warrior, is a well-asked question. The answer tells the tale of the fall of Darlandis, or at least the beginning of the tale.” Noralie suggested they sit, then moved to the center of the circle. “Years ago....” She looked at Zam, and a thought flickered inside her. “Would you like to venture a guess, young one?”
Before he could say that he did not know, his mind crossed back to the morning before, when he was standing at the entrance to the cave in Ellerion's wall, to the history that had unfolded in his mind. It had not all fit before, but now… he stood and paced slowly as he spoke. A wash of information poured through him. “Years ago there were many such places throughout Darlandis.” The pieces began to fall together. “Kings and the lords who served them met and took counsel with one another… from a distance. They would discuss matters of import, and the dragon with them would pass it to the trees. They in turn passed it among their kind over long distances to the trees of another Council, the trees then to the dragon there, and on to the leaders. In this way a lesser lord could receive his king’s decree within hours, not having to wait weeks for messengers.”
Raim Sabbar was amazed at Zam’s words. Noralie bade him continue.
Zam thought hard of all he had seen in his vision. “Well, when the Great Dragon Mim chose to serve the Seritheen, it was many years before mankind knew. By that time many trees had long since lost their understanding of man speech, and were used to pass falsehoods to the distant outposts. Over time the decrees of many kings were disobeyed because of that treachery. Lords and their subjects lost their lives at the hands of other lords, peoples became divided, and the rulers began to mistrust even their most faithful servants. Several of the Councils were burned and are no more. Three remain, this being one of them. Many of the tyrannical kings of Darlandis became tyrants through fear born of those deceptions.”
Raim Sabbar spoke his astonishment. “That is no guess! You speak history!”
Griss looked at Zam. “Was it the trees that told you this?”
Bondur spoke. “This knowledge came from no tree. It bears the mark of Elyon. Zam, you needed this knowledge for your quest.”
Zam couldn’t understand how such knowledge would help him save Raine, but he felt it was true. He did need to know.
“There is more for you to know,” Noralie added. “When men deserted these lands, Bondur and I were compelled to protect the remaining Councils. Our children we sent to guard the others as we guard Vandaris.”
Griss found that odd. “I thought the trees were your guardians?”
Bondur answered. “Both are true.” He walked up the side of Raim Sabbar and stood on his shoulder. “What is the best way to explain? Were men to attack, the trees protect themselves, as you learned, Griss. In that way they keep us from battle and are our guardians. Be it something more foul, we protect them. Not even a dragon can break our webs,” he said with pride, then tapped Raim Sabbar’s shoulder knowingly. “Although he can. When he first awoke, he did. He stumbled right through one of our webs and nearly crushed me.” Raim Sabbar smiled an awkward smile and Bondur added, “I almost didn’t move. No creature before him could break our webs, and to this day his kind are the only ones I’ve found who can. In a way, Raim Sabbar is also our guardian. More the reason we feared his drifting into sleep. Many times when we have captured an encroaching dragon, he has come to dispose of it and see that its flames are extinguished, thus protecting the School.”
Zam realized Griss’ question had not yet been answered. “But Bondur, why is it now called a School?”
“Once it was a place where men communicated with other men. The trees merely passed along the words of others. When the outpost was abandoned and Noralie and I came, we began asking things of the trees themselves. We were told much regarding the ways of the kings and the lords, of the fall of the kingdom, as well as what had become of Zamora and Kamm... and darker tales. Noralie and I learned here.”
She joined the explanation. “We discovered there were many more trees willing to share than had ever been spoken too, older trees who knew deep histories. With all we learned, and still learn, School seemed a more fitting title than Council, and thus it has been called for many years.”
Griss pondered that. “It is a well-chosen name.”
Zam looked at Raim Sabbar, who seemed pleased about something.
“What is it?”
Raim Sabbar replied with an almost whimsical air. “A hope I am holding on to.” In a moment his face turned solemn again and he said no more on the subject.
The five of them talked throughout the morning and Zam learned many fascinating things about Darlandis, and much about the ways of the old kingdom. He even learned a bit about the lands northeast of Darlandis where the good kings set up their rule when they departed. At one point he asked, “So Cairemia was founded because the Brother Kings fled Darlandis?”
“Correct, Zam,” Noralie said “And they instructed their people to do the same. The land had become too wild. The Brother Kings had never had any dealings with the Tal'kyon, and as such knew not the strength they had at their command—though fewer and fewer of them walked the woods in that day. Zamora believed it the will of Elyon that they depart to the wild lands beyond. For his part he may have been right.”
All that Zam learned was fascinating, but as the morning wore on the need to depart grew stronger. He still had to talk with Raim Sabbar before he and Griss could leave, and he wanted to know what help Noralie and Bondur could provide.
Noralie had just finished explaining the nature of Fierisen trees when she sensed disquiet in Zam. “…So their light is light indeed. Oh…” she looked at Zam sympathetically. “I am so sorry, Young One. Here we have run on telling of that which interests us and have forgotten altogether why you are here. It is not often we have visitors.” She walked over to where he sat on the grass beside the stone circle and placed her front leg comfortingly on his knee.
“Raim Sabbar has told us of your quest,” she said with motherly concern. “I, as he, understand your urgency. I too believe this leg of your journey to be the beginning only. Bondur and I knew we would help you before you arrived, if you proved to be the one we hoped you were. Last night you asked what help we could be. The answer, we have waiting for you in the armory. Only once before in all our long years have we given such a gift. And more we will pass to you than to any before. Let us return to the outpost.”
In the night Noralie and Bondur had cleared the way into the armory. The door was quite easily large enough for Raim Sabbar, for it had been built to accommodate dragons. Along the walls were swords, axes, great bows with ornate quivers full of arrows, suits of mail and armor. All was dusty, but otherwise well preserved. The style in which they were crafted was unlike any weaponry or armor Zam had ever seen.
As they passed from the hall into the main chamber it seemed to Zam a cavernous place. Most likely to accommodate a dragons’ great size. That thought that was confirmed when he noticed chainmail and armor sized and fit for dragons. Zam thought of the sword Bondur had given him, and wondered what other gifts he might receive.
He looked at a grand suit of mail that had obviously been made for a squire his size. That would be wonderful protection. There were many other items he thought could be of assistance. Each gleamed with something that spoke of adventure.
>
Griss set to evaluating many of the weapons and devices to aid them in their travel while Zam and Raim Sabbar continued following Noralie and Bondur. At the far end of the armory were two articles in stark contrast. First a stand that looked very much like a throne held an ancient king’s armor. It was stunning, etched here and there with runes that told tales of elder days in victory. It was polished nearly to a mirror’s shine. A cloak was draped across the shoulder guards of the armor and clasped with a strong chain, bound by golden leaves at either end.
Second, on the wall beside the armor, hung a gleaming white tunic. It was nearly identical to the one Zam was wearing but for the pure white. Below the tunic hung a pair of sturdy, dark trousers, again similar to those that Zam was wearing. Beside both hung a cloak of a color too deep to determine in the dim light. It was made in the fashion of the cloak that hung from the king’s armor.
Zam was taking it all in and imagining himself in the armor when Bondur spoke. “Zam, as I have said, you have a good heart and we desire it be protected. To that end, we offer you a choice.” Bondur motioned to Raim Sabbar who lit a torch on either side of the items with his breath, lending light to the clothing and armor. Zam could see the trousers were nearly black, and both cloaks were a deep forest green.
Bondur climbed up the wall and positioned himself between the armor and the tunic. “The choice is between the clothes and the armor. You decide. You may take whichever you desire to aid you in your quest.” The light flickered and the armor seemed almost to shimmer in its glow.
Griss approached again, having determined what he would take on the road to Valkiliar. He stood close, listening. Zam wondered at the choice he was given. There is so much here that could be of help, and these are all they will offer? Not even both, but one or the other? Do I need new clothes or do I need the armor? Well, Zam, it’s obvious isn’t it? You will need the armor, and that cloak is a sight better than the one I have now.