by Janet Woods
The mood of the people changed. It was with a lightness of heart they went about their daily tasks. They began to laugh and sing again, but not when the few loyal to the usurper were around, for they would keep the secret hidden.
* * * *
The season turned, the new one bringing with it the bright summer moon.
There came a time of enchantment. The sky was filled with drifts of sparkling dust through which the stars glowed with many colors. A ray of light shafted down through the trees to touch upon the crystal surface. The pod split open and melted into the sand.
A breeze blew down from The High Place. It filled Kavan’s nostrils, inflated his chest and pressed caresses against his eyelids. He woke to discover Tiana snuggled against him. She was breathing deeply and easily. Her hair had grown long again. It fell softly about her shoulders and glowed with a faint luminosity. He pressed a kiss against each of her eyelids. “My own true love,” he murmured, for his mind was filled with her and only her.
The jewels of her eyes were revealed to him. Her smile was soft with love. She touched his beard, smiled, and then stretched against him in one sinuous movement. “Mmmm, I feel so good. Did I hear you say you loved me, Bramble-face?”
A smile played around his mouth. Dappled with moonlight, her skin seemed embraced with magic. He thought his heart might burst from loving her, his body with its urgency to possess her. “I adore every part of you. You make my heart sing with joy and my body . . .?” He chuckled. “You must be well aware of my body.”
A smile curved against his face. “I’m aware, and of my own to receive you. You’re still alive and so am I. Love me, Kavan, this place has a special feel to it.”
His loins throbbed with his own power when he reached for her. Above them, the watchers’ eyes blinked shut.
For days the lovers’ minds and bodies were as one in the enchanted place. They bathed in the healing waters of the lake, listened to the music of the fall and ate the delicacies the watchers’ left for them.
Kavan showed off for his lady, dazzling her eyes with his feats of daring as he rode Shazah standing upright and at breakneck speed, or somersaulted over the fall in a perfect dive. She teased him with laughter and song and hid from him.
By day, the sun shone, the flowers bloomed and the air was polished with a seductive perfume. By night enchanted moon-dust fell on their bodies, clouded their sight for anything but each other, and drew them into a web of sensual pleasure.
They listened to the watchers as they told of Finn’s deception.
A tiny seed took root deep in Tiana’s body.
At dusk one day, they exchanged a regretful glance and knew the outside world was calling them back.
Kavan pulled her close. “We must return to the manor tomorrow and I must challenge Finn. Whatever the outcome I’ll never forget this time with you, Tiana of my heart.”
Her eyes filled with love when they met his. “Nor I, Kavan, my lord . . . ” mischief filled her eyes, “. . . and my master.”
When he laughed, birds flew, startled, from the forest canopy to circle overhead.
* * * *
Out gathering firewood, a trooper whose life had been saved by Tiana heard the laughter. He rubbed a finger down the scar down his middle, which had begun to tingle. Was this the sign they’d all been waiting for? He must make sure.
Nobody saw him slip into the forest after curfew. He crept through the undergrowth towards the sacred place. Though it was banned to all, he must make sure he was not mistaken. He came across footsteps in the sand. Shazah grazed by the side of the lake and there was a man, and a woman with hair the color of moonlight.
He was back a little while later, his eyes wide with the importance of his news. He sought out Torma at his lodging, slipping into the house of Benlogan by a secret passage.
With Torma at his side he grinned at the assembly of Kavan’s troopers, all dressed in the outlawed colors of purple and silver. He was proud to be the bearer of the glad tidings. “Our Lord and Lady are back. They are at the High Place.
The troopers crowded round him, eager for news. “How did they seem? Were they well? What did they say?”
The trooper’s face cracked into a grin. “They were . . . um . . . engaged with other, more pressing matters. I left him a sign on a rock, my trooper’s insignia on the only track out of the place. If he can take his eyes off his lady he cannot miss seeing it.”
A chorus of ribald remarks, grins and elbow shoving went on.
Torma cracked his knuckles to bring it to an end. He drew his sword and held it high. Light reflected along its length when he said quietly. “My life for my Lord and his Lady.”
The replies came as one voice. “My life.”
* * * *
The whole troop was lined up on the battlements when Kavan rode in under cover of darkness.
Torma smiled with delight as he greeted him, then he reached up to lift Tiana down from Shazah. Undetected, he managed to press a kiss on her cheek when the others crowded silently around Kavan. To his delight, though her smile chided him, she hugged him in return.
By the time the inhabitants of the manor stirred, all the troopers were in position, their uniforms disguised by voluminous grey cloaks.
The grievance court was held early. Matters were dealt with in a haphazard manner, for Lord Javros preferred being entertained to the tedium of administration. He’d reintroduced the old sport of gibber wrestling, where a condemned prisoner was dropped into a pit with a pair of hungry gibber monkeys.
Today, they had a woman prisoner. The mother of a young Truarc maid, she’d sent her daughter into hiding rather than give in to the right of her lord to claim the girl. The match had been widely publicized, and was sure to flush the young woman out. When it did she would join her mother in the pit. It promised to be an exciting match.
Benlogan bowed to him when the court was dismissed. “There’s a traveler who seeks an audience, sire.”
“The court is over for the day.”
“He’s heard of your bravery in bringing together the rift, and bears a gift.”
Finn waved a languid hand at Benlogan. “What sort of gift?”
“A woman for your pleasure, sire. It’s said she’s a Truarc maid of good birth and great beauty. She would make you a suitable partner.”
Chrisany exclaimed with annoyance. “Lord Javros can have any woman he likes. He doesn’t need a permanent partner, however beautiful she thinks she is.” She slapped away the hand of an infant who tried to cling to her skirt. “Go away and find your nurse.”
The toddler stuck her thumb in her mouth and stared up at her mother, tears gathering in her eyes.
The way the ruler glared at Chrisany informed everyone he was tired of her interference. “It’s for me to decide whether I want the woman or not.”
Benlogan leaned over and whispered in his ear. “There are whispers that the traveler brings you the Truarc maid you so desired, Lord. It is said she wishes to beg for her mother’s life.”
Eyes sharpening, his attention fully on Benlogan now Javros nodded. He plucked a ripe peach from a bowl and peeled it with a show of great boredom. “I’ll give her a few tix of my time to plead her cause, no more.”
Kavan pulled his cowl over his head and made his way forward. Placing the sack on the floor he opened the end. There was a shower of silver and purple sparkles and Tiana appeared.
“You?” Javros said, shooting to his feet. The color drained from his face when Kavan flung back the cowl. The peach dropped to the floor in a splat of wet flesh. “What trickery is this, Kavan? The pair of you died by my own hand.”
An ominous rumble of discontent fired through the crowd.
Tiana bowed low. “Felicitations, you gangrenous maggot! You condemn yourself with your own filthy confession.”
She has a deliciously waspish way with words, Kavan thought when a gasp of delight went through the audience. They began to clap and cheer. The child copied them, and then smiled
widely at Tiana. “Pretty, Lady,” she lisped.
Tiana smiled back at the child and wiggled her fingers. A furry toy appeared in her arms. The child gazed down at it with wondering eyes, then giggled with delight.
Chrisany stepped forward, her eyes hard and calculating. “Forgive my son, Lord Kavan. He knows not what he says. His confession was born out of grief, which has twisted his thoughts to make him appear more powerful in his own eyes. We thought you were dead. Everyone did.”
“That’s not your son,” Kavan said, as gently as possible for one about to kill him. “When Javros surrendered his will to the usurper he sought to exchange it for everlasting life, riches and power. All he got was death. Your son was weak and chose the easy path, Chrisany. His body is all that’s left of him, and it plays host to the soul of Finn, the evil apprentice.”
Chrisany gazed from one to the other, desperation in her eyes, obviously unwilling, or unable to believe what she was hearing.
When Kavan advanced on Finn, the eyes of Javros engaged his and tried to get the better of him by mesmer.
Kavan laughed. “The pivot stone drained you of any power you had.”
“I challenge you. I demand trial by combat, as is my right,” Finn screamed out desperately.
He looked fit, Kavan thought. Obviously Finn had not allowed the fine body he’d inhabited to soften through lack of exercise.
Finn leapt from his seat to lunge at Kavan, his sword drawn.
Kavan sidestepped and gave a sharp whistle. Torma’s sword came flying through the air into his hand. His knuckles closed comfortably around the hilt like an old friend. Around the hall, twenty troopers cast aside their cloaks and slit the throats of twenty usurpers, who were acting as guards and leveling stun guns. Before the blood had time to run the troopers silently dragged the bodies away.
Sparks flew as two swords met overhead. Despite his appearance, Finn was out of condition, Kavan thought, as they slashed and parried at each other. They’d hardly started and already he was puffing and panting like an old hound.
A trickle of smoke came from Finn’s mouth. Kavan laughed out loud. He was weakening, trying to summon up his magic power. “Nice try, Finn, but the little magic you have left has been blocked. It’s going to be mortal against mortal. Javros was a skilled swordsman but you haven’t kept the practice up and you don’t have his staying power.”
Desperation in his eyes Finn turned tail and tried to run. His escape was blocked by a trooper. Spun round, a foot in the seat of his pants sent him stumbling back to Kavan. Giving a scream of rage he brought the sword over his head with both hands.
It was all over in minitix. One blow from Kavan spun the sword from Finn’s hand, the second cut through his aorta. It was a more merciful death than Finn deserved and Kavan wasn’t even out of breath.
Chrisany screamed in anguish. Dropping to her knees she cradled the body of her son in her arms and gazed at Kavan with hate in her eyes. From the fold of her skirt she dragged a stun gun and took aim. She was too close to miss. In the split second it took Tiana’s eyes to widen there was a blinding flash and the woman’s head exploded.
Kavan looked for the child, but Tiana got there first, shielding her from the bloody sight of her mother. She cuddled the girl tight against her and every part of her body was on the defensive when she glanced his way. Did she still consider him to be a barbarian who would slay an innocent child?
His reassuring smile earned him a loving look. She relaxed, handed the child to Athene and moved into the circle of his arms. The hall erupted into clapping and cheering.
“There’ll be feasting tonight,” he shouted. “Let’s make merry.
Casually Tiana announced she was going to inspect their quarters. Kavan followed her out. He couldn’t allow her to inspect them alone.
* * * *
Child’s play, the alchemist thought. He dropped a few grains of black powder on top of a green liquid. There was an almighty bang and smoke billowed. The end of his beard caught fire and he had a coughing fit when someone threw water in his face to douse the flames.
He dried his face on the skirt of his black working robe and asked the boy who'd thrown it, “Who are you?” He was surprised for though a companion for him was predicted, he’d expected someone who looked to fit the position.
“Santo. I’m your new apprentice.”
“You’re a bit on the short side, aren’t you?”
“I was born with a twisted spine and have only lately gained the strength to walk. Will that matter?”
“Not in the least. I can teach you how to make yourself taller if you like. It’s handy if you need to reach the top shelves. I didn’t summon you, did I?”
“No, I decided to join you after I saw you a few times in the library. I came through the portal tunnel and secretly watched you work. I had to be sure this time, you see.”
“You saw me?” The alchemist spooned a portion of blue powder on to his scales as he looked him over. “Hmmm, I suppose you must have. How did you get into this dimension? Do you know any chemistry?”
“I’ve always been able to pass through into this dimension. And although I’m not skilled in chemistry I’ve discovered I can read, and I’m quick to learn.”
The alchemist’s hand waved over the shelves of books in the outside dimension. “You’ll have to be if you want to become an alchemist, there’s more to it than a few magic tricks. Start with volume one and I’ll test you every orbit for the next decade.”
Santo edged closer to him. He picked up a vial containing silver crystals, shook a few into his palm and sniffed them. “This dimension you live in, is it in the past or the future?”
“I have no idea. It’s something I’ve never been able to figure out.”
“What are you trying to do?”
“Make a formula. I’ve got a theory that certain elements give you freedom. If I can get it right I’ll be able to walk abroad instead of being confined to the library and my tomb. Brrr! So dark in there now and swirling with muddy water.”
“Have you ever tried it?”
“Tried what?”
“Walking abroad. Sybilla told me that sometimes the hardest things are the simplest to achieve. You just do them.” Santo brushed the crystals from his palm. As they touched the singed end of the alchemist’s beard, blue smoke engulfed him.
The alchemist fanned it away with a pass of his hand. “A lateral thinker, our Sybilla. Hmmm, yes it might just work . . . I’ve never really tried, my mind doesn’t work along such simple lines. Take my arm, Santo. We’ll test this theory of hers.”
A few moments later the alchemist sucked in a deep breath and gazed up at the sky for a moment. His expression was one of quiet satisfaction. “Beautiful . . . just beautiful. One of my better creations, even if it was colonized by mortals at the beginning of the game. It’s a fitting legacy for my second great grandson.”
Santo stared him in awe. “You created all this?”
The old man nodded. “It was fashioned on a planet called Terra, an idea brought into cogent form by Sol, one of the short-lived offspring of the sun god. None of us expected the godling forms that grew there to assume an intelligent, mortal nature the way they did. It’s quite interesting though. The gods are fond of Sol’s mortals, and most are sworn to protect and help them on their journeying.”
He seemed to tire of the subject. “How is my grand daughter? Has she brought the god-child into the world yet? I’ve got so much to teach him.”
Santo jumped when Sybilla stepped out from behind a shrub. She placed her hands on her hips and admonished, “When I told you to exercise your legs I didn’t say you could come this far.” She smiled at the alchemist. “I should have realized he’d make himself known to you. Don’t let him become a nuisance.”
“It’s all right, Sybilla. I enjoy his company.”
She placed her head to one side and stared at him, her eyes as brown and liquid bright as those of Santo. “How do you know me?”
“We’ve met before,” the alchemist said, and felt glad that in this manifestation Sybilla was not only handsome in body and face, but would have a long and happy mortal life. “I hear you’re going to wed General Torma.”
Sybilla blushed. “Torma’s a fine man, and has been good to Santo. Glory be, who would have guessed I had a nephew waiting for me on Cabrilan.” She ruffled Santo’s hair. “I go to the manor to welcome the arrival of the infant. Would the pair of you care to accompany me?”
The Alchemist took his cane from the folds of his gown, polished it on his sleeve and smiled. “I’ll be but half a tix, I’ll just change into something more fitting for the event.”
* * * *
Kavan held court in the great hall, but his mind was not on the Truarc dignitaries with their tiresome petitions and endless debates.
His patience was growing thin. How long could an infant take to come into the world?
He crossed to the window for a moment’s peace and it came to him . . . her joy bubbling into his mind like wine. His heart lifted.
Signaling to The High One he strode rapidly through the people, stopping to smile at a group of three people standing apart from the rest. The others had edged nervously away from them and he could understand why. A barrier of purple light pulsated around them.
One was Torma’s woman, Sybilla, a peach ripe for the plucking if ever he saw one. Of the two with her, Santo was looking as pleased as cheese with himself, as well he might in such fine company.
He felt a rare stab of familiarity with the old man, and started when he smiled and raised his hand in a blessing. Wonder of wonders. The Grand Alchemist! And all of a shimmer in silver thread, glittering jewels and rich, purple velvet. Tiana would be pleased by the honor he paid her with this manifestation. He was pleased, himself.
But he must remember to acknowledge him. Kneeling, he took the alchemist’s hand and pressed it against his forehead. Rising, he said for all to hear, “Grandfather, you honor us.”