by Geno Allen
The young guardian’s fascination with Zam’s tale suddenly changed to terror and she instantly thought to kill him where he stood. Zam felt her fear as it peaked and the confusion that flowed with it. Now she thought she understood why Nain had said so little before he left. There hadn’t been time. Zam and Griss had been nearly at her door.
Tara pulled Zam to his feet and held her sword to his throat. Her every intent was to open his jugular, but something in his eyes stopped her. There was an intensity there, not born of the fact he may die, but rather of the duty he felt and the tale he now told. She was once again intrigued, and against her better judgment released him from her grip. “Continue.”
Zam bowed his head. “As I neared you, I saw a large man also approaching. At the sight of him, the creature Nain fled. I asked you to be freed so I could rescue my friend, but before you answered, the man standing with me spoke. I realized then he was an Argolen. He said it was unlikely that you would defy the Seritheen, that Nain and others wanted me dead, and that you might very well kill me. With that I looked into your eyes. I could see there that you were pondering all that had transpired. It was then that I awoke. I shared my dream with my companion, and he agreed that time was of the essence.”
Tara stared at Zam with a hard eye, sword still drawn, awaiting her own decision.
Zam added what little more he thought might convince her. “We have escaped our bonds, but we have brought no real harm upon any of your men, save perhaps some bruises.”
His shoulders sagged from exhaustion, both physical and emotional. “Guardian, the daughter of my good friend Molly truly has been taken to sell as a slave. I’ve come a long way to aid her. I fear the dream bodes ill for her. Time is short and she is in a terrible kind of danger.”
Tara looked like a queenly statue, unmoving, as if chiseled from stone, her authority perfectly captured by the artisan who had crafted her. She contemplated all that Zam said.
Griss took that moment to speak. “The Seritheen are seeking your undoing as well, Guardian.”
Her noble stance was broken by his statement, and her eyes flashed as she turned them on the giant before her. “I am Chief Guardian Tara Neereth, daughter of Lord Anderose Neereth. It is I who seek the undoing of others! The Seritheen, as I have shared, are my allies. They do not seek my harm!” Her anger burned. “Tell me again your name, Giant!”
Griss bowed his head slightly in honor of her position. “My name is Griss Corwise. I am a Tasudari from the northern lands. I am not a giant.”
“Griss Corwise, be silent! You are nothing!” She turned back to Zam. “But you... you are a curious boy. Do you share his belief that the Seritheen are against me?”
Zam nodded.
“Then you are both fools! Perhaps that is why Nain wants you dead... because of your disbelief–”
Zam interrupted with a start. “So Nain is real?”
The question gave the chief guardian pause. She had never said her guide’s name aloud in the presence of any other and yet this boy knew. Her authoritative stance wavered a bit.
Zam said, “Chief Guardian, I cannot believe the Seritheen have anyone’s good at heart. Please forgive me, but I must say they are evil.”
Tara was too caught up in her own thoughts to react.
“I have seen the country that once was Darlandis and the result of the Seritheen having their way. The histories you've read will probably tell you the dragons corrupted the land, but the Seritheen corrupted the dragons. You guard this border, but have you ever entered the Dark Wood and felt the weight of what they have wrought there? It was not always so.”
Tara was suddenly tired of the conversation, but she was also questioning. As if to strengthen herself, she said, “You don’t realize… the Seritheen are our friends. They want what is best for us, but only if we’ll befriend them. You are not their friend so you do not understand. Perhaps you could aid your friend if you asked their help.” A moment of emotion touched nearly on compassion for Zam’s friend, but she quickly pushed it aside. “Or perhaps the girl has refused them as well and that is why she suffers this fate.”
Zam chose his words carefully, considering how they might affect the guardian and the soldiers at her command. “Guardian Neereth, I cannot ask help of the Seritheen. It was Elyon who sent me on this quest, and directed others to help me along this road. It is his help I rely on, and his direction that I will continue to follow.”
Tara’s brow furrowed. “That name... I know it. I have heard it, though it is forbidden to be spoken.”
Outside the window the wind growled. Was that the wind? Zam looked to where the sound had come from but nothing was visible there.
Tara was startled by the growl. “Nain?” she said, not realizing she had done so aloud. There was no reply. She was frightened that her long-time companion would not enter the room with these two here. Perhaps it had been fear she heard in her guide’s voice.
Zam’s eyes locked with hers. “Have you ever crossed one?”
She recoiled at the thought. “No. Why would I? They seek what is best.”
Zam’s heart ached, and Tara could see it, as he asked, “Guardian, please tell me, how is a young, innocent girl being made a slave what is best?”
Guardian Rorin spoke out, “Chief Guardian, shall I remove–”
Tara shouted, “Silence!” The emotions Zam’s words raised were uncomfortable and made her stiffen “Likely she is not innocent.” She broke away from his gaze.
Zam paused until she looked again. “She is.”
“How do you know?” The question had venom in it and reeked of spite, but underneath Zam could tell she deeply wanted to know.
The intensity with which he spoke almost unnerved the guardian, yet it captivated her as well. “All that I can say is that to the depth of my being, I know.” He paused, letting that sink in. “When I saw her in my dream….” his voice trailed off as he recalled the sadness in Raine’s face. “All I am asking is that you allow us to leave so I may be able to free her before she truly does become a slave.”
Zam was grasping for any way to convince her. Although she was showing signs of softening, her heart had been hardened by the many cruelties she had been forced to both inflict and endure throughout the years. She was not easily moved from any course, especially when to do so would go against what the Seritheen had requested of her.
Griss could see straight to the heart of this young royal. Though her title was chief guardian, she could as easily be a princess or a queen. Her father was the Lord of Knighton, though he seemed more like Knighton’s fool for having set his daughter in the role of chief guardian so young. Griss recalled how old he was when he was first made an executioner, how he had been hardened by it, and the pain it had caused him. As he watched the conversation unfold he waited for just the right moment.
Zam implored, “She will be forced into a horrible life, to do horrible things, if I do not reach her in time. Please, Guardian, free Griss and I. And if you will, point us toward the slave market.”
It was obvious that something was working its way through the halls of the young guardian’s mind, and this was Griss’ moment. He raised up onto his knees and spoke. “Guardian Tara?” His tone was calm, and soothed right to her soul. She did not bristle at the familiar use of her name. In fact, hearing it said with Griss’ gentle concern sent little cracks running through the granite crust that surrounded her heart.
“It is a harsh world that requires innocent girls to suffer at the hands of another.”
He’d found the chink in her armor. A sliver of her heart’s crust fell away, leaving one small place exposed. Tara tensed a moment as sorrow filled her. She gazed into Griss’ eyes, looking for the compassion she’d briefly felt. It was there.
He continued. “I think you understand... deeply. Zam seeks only to save another young lady from the horrors that life will try to bring.”
Tara faltered. Here was the insight Griss had gained in the night. He knew the pla
ce to which she now returned in her mind, a place she deeply despised and to which she seldom ventured. She recalled with absolute clarity the fellow guardian who had wronged her shortly after her father sent her to Valkiliar. She stiffened and remembered the Seritheen who came to her that night, promising justice, promising that she would never be harmed again... if she remained a faithful friend of the Seritheen. The next morning, that fellow guardian was found impaled on his own sword. None could understand why, save Tara.
She returned to the present, her eyes blazing with anger and determination. She shouted, “I will not betray the Seritheen! It was they who protected me when no other would! They surround us, and help us, and give us what we–”
“Guardian Tara,” Griss interrupted in the same calm tone that had found its way through the cracks of her heart, “They surround us you say? Yet they waited to help you until after you were injured. Where were they when the injury occurred?”
Suddenly it was as if Tara were standing in the shadows of Valkiliar on a late summer evening in the moments before her great injury. She saw a creature that looked as though it could be Nain, only ugly, gaunt, and cloaked as if by shadow. It guided quietly, with subtle whispers, the one who had brought Tara her greatest harm.
She trembled, refusing to believe. She closed her eyes tight, trying to clear the image from her mind.
Griss gently asked, “Would not you rather the Seritheen had protected you first? That someone would have protected you first? That is all Zam is asking, that he be allowed to protect her first. That he be given the chance to stop a wrong before it happens to yet another young woman.”
Tara stood stalk still, struggling against the images in her mind. At last she returned once more to the present. “I do not know how you… how you could know….” A tear escaped the stone fortress that was her gaze and ran down her cheek. A mix of anger and embarrassment rushed through her. It was a feeling she despised. Turning her sword upon Griss, she held it before his heart, seeming ready to strike down the giant who had pulled tears from her for the first time since her great injury.
Zam was afraid. Shall I now lose Griss, Elyon? He didn't know how to react, or whether he should at all.
Griss did not seem afraid, nor did his demeanor change as he spoke again. “You did not finish your question, Guardian Tara.” Compassion beamed from him as he asked the question she could not. “How is it that I could know… your greatest shame?”
At the word “shame” she was undone. Her sword arm went limp and she could barely stand.
“It was Elyon. He wanted me to know... wanted me to share with you.”
Her legs faltered and she dropped her sword as she nearly swooned. Griss caught and steadied her.
Rorin and the other guard moved toward Griss to protect her, but Corben held them in check. “Stand down! She is safe.” Corben looked at Griss and nodded.
“Tara, the shame was not yours. It belonged to the guardian who wronged you, not to you.”
Tears poured from her as she searched Griss’ eyes. He let a long moment pass before he continued. “There is much that I could say on this, and I will if you allow me, but…” he glanced toward Zam. “I feel in my soul that time is short for Zam’s friend. Please, decide your allegiances later. This once… choose for yourself.”
Tara slowly regained her strength and pulled away from Griss, righting her armor and standing again with the stature of a guardian.
Griss finished by asking, “Will you allow Zam to do for this young lady what not even the Seritheen did for you?”
Griss remained kneeling as Tara wiped tears from her eyes, glared at him, and then at Zam. “I do not know what it is that you have done to me, what manner of devilry or other this may be, but... against my very being... I consent to allow the boy—Zam—to pursue this course. But you, Griss Corwise,” she said with a severity in her voice that was palpable. “You will remain in the keep until he returns with his damsel in distress.”
Griss bowed his head in gratitude and then stood. Zam was unsure what to do now. Tara tossed a small satchel to him. As he caught it he realized it was the handful of jewels Corben had handed over to his captain. Tara ordered Corben to return Zam’s sword and staff as well, and to take Griss back to his cell for the night. Looking at Griss she added sternly, “Later we shall discuss how it is that you have brought to my keep, the ancient king's sword thought lost when Targanon fell.”
Zam wanted to protest, but Griss had simply bowed his head in acceptance when they shackled him again and was being led out of the room. Just before the door he paused. Rorin and the other guard pulling him jolted to a stop. It seemed they thought they had been forcibly leading him. Once he paused, it was akin to pulling against a mountain.
“Guardian Tara, please return Zam's book also. He may have need of it.”
She looked at the large man and something stirred in her that she could not explain. She nodded and tossed the book to Zam, who nearly dropped it. With that, Griss allowed the guards to lead him away. They did so now with a much-changed attitude and Zam couldn't help but smile at that.
Corben was following and he too seemed amused by the timidity with which his fellows led the large one out.
Tara looked at Zam. “I tell you the truth... Zam... if you do not return by week’s end, I will kill the giant.” With those words still hanging in the air, Corben exited.
Now that Griss and the other guardians were gone Tara’s authority weighed on Zam. He agreed to her terms and promised he would return in the allotted time. Tara fixed her gaze as if to stare him down, but the weight Zam would have expected was not there when she spoke. “Your giant friend will be safe, if you return within the week.” Her entire demeanor softened unwillingly. “Please return within the week. I do not actually wish to kill him, but my men have heard me say that I will, and I will not be made a liar.”
“I understand, Chief Guardian. I assure you, unless my life is forfeit, I will return.”
Tara led Zam down a hall where they found Corben, who returned his sword but not his bag of jewels. Tara motioned to Corben, “My second in command will take you to the gate and point you toward the slave market. From there you are on your own.” She paused, the authority of her position regained in her countenance. “Week’s end.” She said sharply, then turned and made her way back to the study.
Corben clapped a hand on Zam’s shoulder as he began to lead him down the hall. “Some brilliant escape, Boy. I would have never expected something like that to work, but you and your friend, you have something special about you.” There was sadness in Corben’s expression if Zam read him right. Corben continued. “It’s obvious your quest is important in a grander sense.”
Zam wanted to ask where the other jewels were, and his cloak, but as they passed down the halls and through the various chambers, they were greeted by one company of soldiers then another. Each time he thought to speak, there stood another guardian who would probably find fault with Corben having kept so great a treasure from his captain.
When at last they stepped outside, the courtyard was devoid of any guardians. A chill wind whipped past them and tore at their garments. Corben removed his own purse and handed it to Zam. Opening it at Corben's instruction, he found the larger portion of the jewels. Before Zam could speak, Corben removed his own cloak and handed it to Zam. Though not made of Noradur, its embroidered edges gave it a finer look than Zam’s and denoted a position of rank. Corben raised his voice so Zam could hear him over the wind. “It’s rather cold out here. My cloak will keep you warmer, as well as dissuade the market guards from hindering you.”
Zam donned Corben’s cloak.
It was only just evening, but the darkness of the approaching storm made it seem as midnight. “I thank you, Corben for all your kindness.”
When he returned he would see to regaining his own cloak, but he had his book, his staff, and sword. He was ready to rescue Raine.
Corben led him across the courtyard toward the gat
e. “I have a question I must ask you, Zam.” The thrashing wind carried his words away.
Zam frowned. “What did you say?”
Corben motioned for them to quicken their pace to the gate. There the large stone walls acted as a wind break. A guardian under Corben’s command was standing at his post when they arrived. Corben addressed him. “Rodger, I am relieving you of your watch this evening. No man should have to stand in this cold.”
Rodger, who was obviously chilled to the bone, did not question the generosity, but saluted and quickly made his way back to the keep.
Corben faced Zam. Tension and fear were easily read in his face. “I have a question for you, Zam. This friend of yours... are you sure she will be there?”
Zam looked quizzically at him. “If I am not too late. I have been traveling several months. I was told I would find her there when the Coriaerans came to market.” There was something of substance to the fear in Corben’s voice, and it grabbed Zam. His fear that she might have already been sold began to creep in again.
Corben looked intently at him. It was unnerving. “I must know something, Zam. Your friend…” All of Corben’s soldierly strength was gone. He looked as though a broken man, “You have not named her in my presence. Why is that?” Before Zam could think of an answer Corben spoke again. “No, that is not the question. I must ask, is your friend Raine of Rivertowne? Daughter of Tolwyn and Molly?”
Zam’s mouth dropped open. “How could you know that, Corben?”
A look of both sadness and relief crossed Corben's face. “When I was young, I was conscripted into the castle guard of Cirin Cair in Artolis, the capitol of Cairemia. Later when Lord Neereth requested more troops be moved to Knighton, I was among them. My duty there was to serve in the chief fortress of Knighton, Cirin Lansis. I was later put in direct service to the lord’s son, Tantus.