“I screamed for the guards, doing my best to keep him away from me until they arrived,” Gregor said. “Before they did, he managed to escape again.”
“What exactly is The Blade of Loss?” Kilren asked.
“Maybe the worst weapon ever forged,” Garik answered. “It actually severs body and soul. It binds your spirit to Areon when it kills you to make sure you can't be raised from the dead.”
“That's a little vicious,” the lieutenant replied.
“Of course,” Gregor continued, “at the time, I had no idea that was the weapon the assassin used. I only knew someone had murdered my parents, that they couldn't be raised from the dead, and that I was the next target. I decided to leave my cousin as regent while I searched for answers. The first thing I wanted to find out was why my parents couldn't be brought back to life. Now, I think I know.”
“I know it's a harsh topic, lad,” Ian said, gazing at the young man with sympathy in his eyes, “but even if their souls were free, surely by this time their bodies...”
“Oh, no!” Gregor interrupted. “The priests preserved them using the power of the Eilian. If their souls weren't bound in Havlas, they could still be saved.”
“I don't see how they could be,” Darian replied, shaking his head. “I'm extremely sorry, Gregor. Even if you could somehow find the gates, in order to open them, the Eilian would have to give you the power you needed to do it. I don't believe they would.”
“Unless Gwendolyn really is the key,” Kilren said, turning to look at the young sorceress.
“Even if she were,” the knight said, “which I don't happen to believe, it would be wrong for anyone to open them. You heard what Ian said. Just imagine the poor souls who might unintentionally wander beyond the protection of Havlas.”
“You're probably right,” Gregor said, turning toward the knight, “but I can't just give up. My parents’ souls could be trapped there.”
“I understand,” the young Telian said with a sigh, “but all we can do is hope that they're not. I don't believe the gates of death will ever be opened before the end of all things.”
This statement brought the conversation to a close. Most of the members of the band were wrapped in sleep just minutes later. It was long, however, before the young lord laid his head down in rest.
Chapter 8: A Parting of the Ways
The party rose as the first golden rays of sun gently brushed the treetops above their heads. They were given just enough time to eat a very hurried breakfast before Lord Andor summoned them all to another council of war.
“Here, we once again divide ourselves into two groups,” the aged Telian began. “Most, if not all, of us who are fit for war will head toward the rendezvous with all due haste. The remainder of our friends and family members will make their way as quickly as possible to Talsier, taking the rather roundabout route King Illfas has proposed.”
“Will they need an escort?” Darian immediately asked.
“Not at all,” one of the elvish commanders replied. “They'll be traveling through the heart of Innalas. All they need is a guide, and any of my men can serve them in that capacity.”
“If that's the case,” the young Telian said, “things seem simple enough. All of us who are ready to fight can go with Lord Andor, while everyone else makes their way to the capital.”
“I agree,” Garik interjected, having silently slunk over to join the council. “Let's get going.”
“You think you're ready for war, little man?” Kilren asked with a smile.
“Compared to some,” Garik said, gazing at him from under a single raised eyebrow, “old man.”
“You're not going,” Darian replied, shaking his head. “You can escort our parents.”
“They don't need an escort,” the boy asserted.
“You're still not going,” his father said, having just joined the group himself. “I am, and I want you to watch over your mother.”
“What about Gwendolyn?” Gregor asked.
“You think she needs to protect my mother?” Darian asked.
“No,” the young lord said slowly, shaking his head as he spoke. “I think it may be a good idea to keep her out of the coming conflict.”
“I can take care of myself,” the maiden replied.
“You've more than proven that, my lady,” Gregor said with a slight bow. “I'm just not sure it's a good idea, under the circumstances, for you to risk yourself in the turmoil of battle. Anything might happen. Especially with Lord Valrak so close at hand.”
The emphasis he put on the name did not go unobserved.
“You make a very valid point,” Daegon agreed. “I think, Lord Andor, it would be best to keep Gwendolyn away from any major battles.”
“I'm not going to be left behind,” the maiden replied, “You may need...”
“Gwendolyn, my dear,” the girl's father interrupted, “your mother and I have decided to leave these decisions to you and Lord Andor, but you need to keep in mind that they're not to be taken lightly. This could be more than you simply risking your life.”
“You're quite right, Lord Faelor” Lord Andor nodded. “Gwendolyn, I'm afraid that circumstances have changed. I can't allow you to join us.”
“You can't just not let me come!” she exclaimed. “You may need my help. I don't want to stand idly by while my friends are risking their lives for us all.”
“I can certainly understand that,” Gregor said with a smile, “but maybe you won't have to.”
“What do you mean?” she asked.
“I mean,” the young lord continued, “that I think our talents might be wasted on the battlefield.”
“I don't see that,” Kilren chuckled. “We've been more than useful in the past.”
“Perhaps wasted is too strong a word,” Gregor admitted. “I just mean that it's possible we could be even more helpful by not rushing straight into battle.”
“How?” Tealor asked, his eyes locked on the young lord.
“Well,” he replied, “it strikes me that some of the people of Mikral might be less than thrilled with this war. The kingdoms have been at peace throughout most of their histories and King Palnar ended a war weeks ago only to immediately start another. The lords have done well under his reign, but the taxes are high and young men are constantly being forced into the ranks. At least, that's what Ian's told me.”
“Aye, lad,” the bard nodded. “And every word of it is true.”
“Then, there's the fact,” Gregor continued, “that many of the citizens of Mikral are of Solarin descent. Innalas did what it could to help Solarin during the war and, although there was little that could be done, I imagine the former Solarins still remember that kindness.”
“They should,” Ian asserted. “King Illfas generously opened his arms to the refugees. Some of them lived here for more than a year before making their way back home.”
“So we may very well have both gratitude and malcontent working for us,” the young lord explained.
“What exactly are you suggesting?” Daegon asked.
“That we try to start a rebellion,” Gregor replied with a wide smile. “If you want to restore the kingdom of Solarin, you could hardly pick a better cause to support than stopping this conflict. The people of Mikral are likely war weary. King Palnar is never going to stop. He seems to want to rule all of Areon. If there's ever going to be peace, his reign will have to be brought to an end.
“At the moment, he can throw all of his forces against Innalas. If we could incite some of the people near the border to rebel, we could force him to fight a war on two fronts.”
“Even if we succeeded in starting an uprising,” Tealor said, shaking his head, “King Palnar would crush it the moment it reared its head.”
“Not if King Illfas continues to put pressure on him,” Gregor disagreed. “There also won't be any need for us to take the field against King Palnar's forces. We can strike and fade, forcing him to withdraw some of his men from the front lines, without u
s actually having to engage them.”
“So you think,” Kilren mused, “that having Gwendolyn come with us behind enemy lines to try to stir up dissent and start a civil war is a good way to keep her safe. Is that right?”
“It's not about keeping her safe,” Gregor replied. “She can keep herself safe.”
“Why, thank you!” Gwendolyn said with a smile.
“Since I'll be there to protect her,” Darian asserted, taking a step nearer the maiden, “she won't even have to.”
“Thank you, too!” she said.
“It will keep her out of the reach of certain people whose company we'd all rather she didn't have to endure,” Gregor added. “It will also give us all the opportunity to have a greater effect on the war than we'd likely have if we simply rode into battle. Not to mention the fact that it could very well be a first step toward the restoration of Solarin.”
“I think I agree,” Lord Andor nodded. “It does seem to be an idea with some promise. Who do you think should lead the party?”
“Sir Darian is the obvious choice,” Gregor asserted. “As a Telian Knight, the people will respect him. Whatever he says will carry a great deal of weight.”
“We just need to make sure he says the right things,” Kilren added. “Erana and I will obviously have to go along to keep him out of trouble.”
“With your permission, my lord, I'll go as well,” Ian said. “As much aid as I could offer on the battlefield, I expect I'll be more help to them.”
“I'd also like to join you, Sir Darian,” Jalek interjected. “I've heard of many of your exploits, but I've witnessed very few of them. I admit, I'd like to see more.”
“Then let's get going,” Garik said. “Eight of us can get the job done. We don't need to take half an army with us.”
“You're going with your mother,” Malfas insisted.
“The seven of you should be more than enough for the task at hand,” Daegon asserted. “The question in my mind is: where should you begin?”
“The village of Rakklin,” Lord Faelor suggested. “It's to the south-east of us. The blacksmith's name is Willrak and he's the grandson of Sir Treslas. That unfortunate knight was killed during the war and his family was left impoverished. Willrak's father, who was a friend of mine, died almost ten years ago, having spent almost a decade eking out a living on a small farm in the hills. From what I've heard, few of the villagers have any great love for Mikral or King Palnar. Especially Willrak, who should be lord of the lands he serves as a smith.”
“That sounds like a promising thread on which to pull,” Ian nodded.
“The sooner we start pulling,” Gregor said, “the sooner we may be able to unravel King Palnar's conquest.”
“Then, let's get on our way,” Darian replied.
Minutes later, the seven companions were riding to the south-east, heading as directly as they could toward the village of Rakklin. Ian, being the only one of their party who knew where their destination was, had taken the lead. Jalek rode at the dwarf's side, who had begun to complain about the difficulties of riding a full sized horse for a person his size. He pointed out that he'd had to do it quite a bit lately and assured the young wizard that he fully intended to buy a new pony at the first opportunity.
Behind this pair rode the knight, the lord, and the lady. Gwendolyn seemed to be enjoying having a handsome young man on each side of her, each obviously doing his best to be even more gallant than the other. Although Gregor clearly had the greater skill at this particular occupation, the maiden found that she enjoyed Darian's rather less successful attempts a great deal more.
At the rear of the party, just beyond the hearing of the others, the lieutenant, the ranger, and the faithful Rragor traveled along together. Kilren's inability to attract the elvish maiden's attention for more than a few seconds, no matter what subject he tried, told him that something was clearly on her mind. Their time together had taught him to broach the subject before she did. If he waited, she would certainly tell him what was bothering her, but it was equally certain that by that time she absolutely wouldn't be in a good mood.
“What's wrong?” he asked with a hint of rising inflection.
“Nothing,” she sighed.
“Something's wrong,” he chuckled, “otherwise you wouldn't have said it like that.”
“If it's not bothering you,” she replied, her voice slightly edged. “it shouldn't be bothering me.”
“Oh, I agree,” he nodded. “It's just that it is bothering me. A great deal, in fact.”
“It is?” she asked, somewhat incredulously. “Then, why haven't you mentioned it?”
“Why haven't you?” Kilren bluffed.
“Because there's nothing we can do about it!” she almost snapped.
“That was one of the reasons I didn't mention it.”
“One of the reasons?” she asked. “You have more than one?”
“I have at least two.”
“What's the second one?”
“I don't know what it is.”
“You don't know what your other reason is?”
“No,” he corrected. “I don't know what's bothering us.”
This admission caused the maiden to glare at the path ahead of them in angry silence.
“Look, dear,” he said, gazing at her with a wide smile, “just because I don't know what it is, doesn't mean it's not upsetting me. I assure you, it is. Anything that bothers you, bothers me. It's just hard for me to see what you have to be upset about at the moment. Here we are, riding side by side, through the beautiful lands of Innalas able to fully enjoy one another's company without interruption. That's more than enough to make me quite contented.”
“I would be more than content,” she replied, “if we weren't riding in the wrong direction.”
“Is Ian on the wrong path?”
“That's not what I mean!”
“Alright,” he sighed. “Would you mind explaining what you do mean?”
“We're riding away from Innalas,” she said, pointing back down the trail. “We're riding away from my father. We're riding away from our engagement!”
“Only for the moment,” he replied, hoping to comfort her.
“We don't know how long that moment might be,” she pointed out. “We could be in Mikral for months.”
“I suppose that's true,” he admitted.
“Meaning: We might not get to speak to my father for months,” she continued. “Meaning that: Having waited patiently for almost a year, now we have to wait we don't know how much longer.”
“You're right,” Kilren nodded, “that's a really good reason to be upset.”
“I'm glad you agree.”
“I just hadn't thought about it in those terms. Really, I think of us as engaged already.”
“Well, we're not.”
“No,” he agreed, “but we will be. Once we are, we can ask your father to take however much time we had to wait to get his approval off the engagement period. If he would allow us to do that, it would basically balance things out. We'll have had to wait longer to get engaged, but as long as it doesn't delay our wedding, what difference does that make?”
“You're right!” she replied, her mood instantly improving. “In fact, I'm basically sure there's some kind of precedent for that. It will be a lot easier to get my father to do it if he knows it's been done before. We need to talk to Ian about it.”
“Yes,” Kilren said with a smile. “Yes, we do.”
“What's got you so quiet all of a sudden?” Gwendolyn asked, turning her gaze to Gregor.
“I'm just thinking,” he replied with a slight smile.
“About what?” the maiden asked.
“The same thing I was thinking about most of last night,” he answered with a sigh. “How I can go about trying to rescue my parents’ souls.”
For almost a minute the three companions rode along in pensive silence.
“Even if you're right,” Darian said, “and their souls are trapped in Hav
las, they're not actually lost. At the end of all things, they'll make their way to Kaldor before the judgment, just like the rest of us.”
“But until then,” Gregor replied, “they'll have no idea who they are, where they are, or why they're there. They'll only know that they long to be somewhere else and that they have no idea how to get there.”
“That's true,” the Telian admitted, “but they won't remember any of it once they reach Kaldor.”
“I'm afraid that doesn't make me feel a great deal better,” the young lord said, turning his eyes to the knight. “If it were your parents, would that thought give you comfort?”
“Probably not much,” Darian replied, shaking his head.
“What would you be willing to do to rescue them?”
“Almost anything,” Gwendolyn said sympathetically.
“Anything at all,” the knight asserted. “Provided it wasn't against the will of the Eilian.”
Once again, silence fell among the trio. After several minutes, Gregor spoke again.
“You're certain that the Eilian wouldn't approve of opening the gates?” the lord asked, his gaze locked on the path ahead.
“I wouldn't say I was certain,” Darian admitted. “I know how they want us to live our lives, what they consider virtuous, and what they've forbidden us to do. I don't, however, know how they'll answer every prayer that's made to them.”
“So, then,” Gregor replied, “you feel that it is possible that they would open them?”
“Almost anything is possible,” the knight replied, shaking his head. “There is no law laid down by the Creator concerning Havlas. It didn't even exist when he spoke the great laws. So, they can certainly open it if they want to. I just find it hard to believe that they would, simply because they never have before. At least, I don't think they have. Ian knows a lot more about it than I do, but I'm pretty sure that, if the Gates of Death had ever been opened before, he would have told us last night. Provided that he knew anything about it, obviously.
“I don't want to discourage you, Gregor. I really don't. But this is an impossible task. Even assuming the Gates of Death are literally in Areon – and not merely a physical depiction of something spiritual – you'd have to find them. According to Ian, he's never heard or read anything about where they might be. Then, even if the Eilian decided to guide you right to them, you'd have to find a way to open them. Seeing as how they were sealed by two of the gods working in unison, I doubt anyone alive would have the power to do it.”
The Lords of Areon (The Chronicles of Areon Book 3) Page 14