“I’m afraid it’s rumor no more,” Jarvus announced, striding around the corner of a large bookshelf. “The rebellion has begun.”
“What?” Tiberius exclaimed, jumping to his feet. Gormond paused mid-bite.
“You heard me,” Jarvus rolled his eyes. “Men have crept into the palace, and there is fighting in the streets.”
“And Brodan?” Tiberius said in alarm.
“I’m afraid he has escaped,” Jarvus replied. “I saw him being escorted by armed men.”
Gormond swallowed. “By the All Father…”
“We must get him back,” Jelénna said. “He cannot be allowed to roam free.”
“That will not be possible,” Jarvus said with an eerie confidence.
“Why is that?” Tiberius demanded. “I requested extra guards be assigned to the palace to prevent this very thing.”
“I’m afraid some of the new guards are fighting alongside the rebels against the loyal palace guard.”
“Betrayal!” Tiberius moaned.
“Yes,” Jarvus agreed. “Unfortunately, everything I saw indicated we are greatly outnumbered. I believe the palace will fall.”
“This can’t be happening,” Tiberius groaned.
“And yet it is,” Jarvus said, sounding exasperated.
“I hope the kitchen is alright. We need food!” Gormond moaned.
“Adrias!” Jelénna cried out abruptly. “I must go to him.”
“The way back into the palace is swarming with rebels. The truth is, he may be safer where he is,” Jarvus sighed. “I overheard a group of rebel soldiers receive orders for both of you to be captured alive. Brodan means to have control of the palace before nightfall.”
“All Father save us!” Jelénna gasped.
“What about me?” Gormond mumbled, taking another bite from his sandwich.
Jarvus gave the obese noble a flat look. “I sincerely doubt they’ll be specifically looking for you.”
Tiberius sighed. “I supported my son when he argued against having Brodan assassinated, as it seemed the right thing to do. Now, that act of kindness has led to this.”
“An act of kindness which may see you in the dungeon,” Jarvus retorted. A sudden loud bang from the distant wooden door reverberated through the cold stone library. “I barred the doors behind me, but I fear it will not hold for long.”
“What will we do?” Jelénna moaned. “My poor Adrias!”
Tiberius grabbed his pipe and tapping out the dottle. “I would stand and fight against that monster if I could, but I have neither a weapon, nor the strength. However, I don’t believe our capture would facilitate anything.”
“Personally, I recommend living to fight another day,” Jarvus said with barely veiled sarcasm. “You must leave your books if we are to have a chance.”
“Yes, I realize that!” Tiberius snapped, but he still looked at the tomes spread out on the table before him with longing.
“We cannot leave without my son!” Jelénna blurted, glancing back as another crash reverberated at the blockaded library door. “I will not leave Adrias behind.”
“As Jarvus said, he may be safer…”
“No! Out of the question.”
Tiberius nodded, but looked grim. “I have no idea how we’ll retrieve the boy, but perhaps we’ll think of something.”
Jarvus cleared his throat. “If you must rescue the...boy, we could try the servant’s entrance in the rear of the palace. It’s close to his classroom, and Brodan will not be aware of its existence. That scoundrel is too arrogant to know anything of what servants do.”
Tiberius scratched his beard. “Can this be done without risking the boy’s safety, or ours?”
“I’m afraid I don’t know.”
“Tiberius, I must save my son!”
“Jelénna…” Tiberius began, but paused when he saw the look of worry and consternation on the face of his daughter-in-law. In any case, he did not relish the thought of leaving his grandson to an unknown fate. “Alright, let’s give it a try.”
“I will stay here and delay them,” Gormond announced, putting his food down on the table and standing. “Jarvus said they wouldn’t care about me and I think he’s right. You should go.”
Tiberius stashed his pipe in a pocket. “Are you certain? It could still be dangerous.”
Gormond nodded, and looked at Jelénna. “Go get your son.”
She nodded silent thanks, for once seeing the true nobility of the huge man. They walked towards the front of the library, leaving the stout noble with his sandwich. Jarvus led them out through the front entrance, and down an empty street. No one was in sight, but they could hear screams and the clash of steel coming from the front of the palace. They stuck to the shadows on one side of the street, as they skulked around to the back of the main palace.
Several maids ran past as they turned into the darkened alley leading to the servant’s entrance. The women ran for their lives, neither speaking nor pausing in their flight from the mayhem of the rebellion. They saw no one else in the dark alley, and when they arrived at the plain door used by the servants, it was unguarded.
Without a word, they entered the besieged palace and crept along several dim service halls towards the classrooms. Twice they managed to avoid wandering rebel mercenaries by hiding in shadowed doorways along darkened halls. Arriving at Adrias’ classroom without incident, they darted inside to collect the boy and escape the beleaguered city.
Inside the classroom, they came to an abrupt halt when they found themselves confronted by none other than the former prisoner Brodan, along with several stern and well-armed rebel soldiers. Terrified children and teachers cowered in one corner of the room, sobbing and crying. Several rebels stood guard over the group, yelling at them to be quiet and brandishing their swords.
One man, who had a nasty scar down one cheek and was sweating profusely, stood apart from the others and had an iron grip on Adrias. The boy struggled against his captor, but called out when he saw his mother enter the room.
Brodan sported a large grin. “My dear Jelénna, and the traitor Tiberius. What took you so long?”
Tiberius knew he needed to defuse the situation for the sake of his family. “I’m surprised to see you here Brodan, but I’m sure you were only concerned for the children’s safety. I want to thank you for not allowing any harm to come to our Adrias.”
Brodan forced a laugh, although he did not sound particularly amused. “You would assume that Tiberius. But as long as you both cooperate, the children will remain unharmed.” The former regent stepped over to the still struggling Adrias and looked directly at Jelénna with a malevolent grin. “I’m certain no one wants anything to happen to them, especially this little gem.”
“Please don’t…” Jelénna moaned.
Brodan picked up a shiny red apple from a nearby desk and unsheathed a long dagger, plain enough to have been provided by one of the rebels. Peeling the crimson fruit and whistling, he turned back to Adrias and leered while several of the rebels bound Tiberius and Jelénna.
“Jarvus, my ever faithful servant,” Brodan abruptly announced. “I’m certain you are excited at the return of your true master. Escort the beautiful Jelénna to my room.” The former prisoner capered about the room once, whistling a jaunty tune. He stopped abruptly and tossed an apple peel to the floor with a grimace. Pointing his dagger at the rebels, he ordered, “You lot show Tiberius to my cell in the dungeon; the perfect place for a traitor!”
Tiberius scowled, but said nothing. A look of irritation flashed across Brodan’s face, but then he shook his head and grinned. “Nothing to say traitor? I’ll take your silence as consent of your guilt. You imprisoned the rightful king, and allowed an impostor to take my place, lying to the people about his true identity. Once I have that scheming Illyrian prince and your traitorous son, the triumvirate of traitors will be complete!”
Tiberius lost his control. “My son is no traitor! If it wasn’t for Aldrick, you would have alrea
dy been put to death for your crimes!”
Brodan sputtered in disbelief, and stabbed the apple dramatically. “Crimes? Is it a crime to love your country? Is it a crime to protect it from a devious Illyrian plot?”
“Ridiculous!” Tiberius scoffed. “You coveted the kingship and the power that goes with it, and systematically murdered anyone who you thought stood in your way! I am ashamed to have ever considered you as a son, you malevolent bastard.”
Tiberius struggled to rein in his anger. He did not want this madman to lose his temper and take his anger out on Jelénna and Adrias, or the innocent school children still cowering in one corner of the room.
“I will hear no more of this!” Brodan shouted. “Take him away! Keep him alive for now, but see to it that he seriously regrets his treason against his country.” He removed the knife and cut another bit of skin from the apple. Eating the peel, he threw the rest of the fruit against the wall.
The former regent swiveled to the scarred man who still fought to hold onto the struggling Adrias. “Bring the little rat along. I may need him to keep his mother in line.”
Chapter 18
“Aldrick,” a deep friendly voice called to him.
Aldrick opened his eyes and saw his beleaguered companions frozen in place, immobilized mid-action as if captured in a painting. Aelianna stood motionless with an arrow in her bow, the string nocked back in preparation to shoot. Dathan was caught in mid sword swing, partially hidden behind one leg of the towering statue, and Garrick was paused in mid-roll, narrowly avoiding a fatal strike from the giant flaming sword. Warren, who had lost his sword in the forest, cowered against the far wall frozen in panic.
While the others remained frozen and immobile, the image of Kian turned towards him and stepped out of the living painting, flourishing a beneficent smile. His appearance changed as he approached, morphing from the towering statue of living stone into something more human in size and appearance. He gained a slight translucence, surrounded by an ethereal glow that did not seem to be a reflection of the surrounding eternal torchlight. Aldrick neither moved nor reached towards his swords, and the deity soon stood before him.
“Thou art Aldrick, son of Tiberius,” the persona of Kian said, but it was not a question.
“Yes,” Aldrick replied.
“Thou dost not attack me, as thine companions didst?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“We did not come here to fight,” Aldrick said with confidence.
“Why didst thou come hither?”
Aldrick suspected Kian already knew the answer, but he responded anyway. “We came here to gain the power to protect our people from a great evil spreading in Illyria.”
“Indeed,” Kian said with a twinkle in his eye. “Dost thou believe then, that thou art worthy of such power?”
Aldrick grimaced. “Worthy? By the All Father, no I’m not worthy. But I…we are apparently the only ones to do it. A man named Merrek sent us on this quest.”
“Merrek it was? Indeed. A sole question doth remain. What do thou and thine companions truly seek?”
Aldrick knew this was the important question. He was not certain how he knew, but he felt their hope of attaining their objective lay in his correct answer. Turning back to the wall showing the creation story, Aldrick quickly scanned the images carved into the marble. Running over the story in his mind, he went through each part step by step. He knew the answer lay here. The truth was here.
He found his eyes naturally focusing on the starry globe created by the All Father to bind all of existence together. He was drawn to the image of the All Father splitting the Tritaph into thirds, one piece for each child. Following the dark wedge through the sky to its landing place near the ocean, Aldrick had a sudden flash of his vision, and he knew. Strangely, Aldrick felt he had always known the answer, but had been too myopic to see it.
“The Tritaph,” Aldrick whispered, stunned at both his knowledge, and the astonishing implications of that answer. Turning back to Kian he repeated louder, “The Tritaph.”
The warm, knowing smile returned, and Kian nodded. “Verily, it is the Tritaph, though in truth I possess but one third.”
“Yes, the third given to Kian to protect,” Aldrick agreed, still scarcely able to reconcile the entire conversation.
“Dost thou still disbelieve?” Kian asked, though not unkindly.
“I know it’s true, and yet I find all this very difficult to believe,” Aldrick admitted. “It violates everything I grew up believing in.”
“Logic hath served thee well,” Kian said. “We share the trait, among others.”
Aldrick smiled, and Kian stepped back towards the frozen scene behind him. “Logic shall continue to serve thee well Aldrick, son of Tiberius, for therein lies your nature. Yet thou must now embrace truth as well. Thou didst believe Logic and Truth to be the same, yet verily they are not.”
“I’m beginning to see that,” Aldrick admitted.
“Change cometh to all things, Aldrick son of Tiberius. Thou must embrace it,” Kian said with a warm smile. “Remember, all will not be as it may seem. I doth believe thou wilt know what thou must do.”
He slowly receded, reverting to the towering stone monolith; paralyzed with the others in the midst of combat. Aldrick had time for one slow breath, and when he blinked the painting before him spun into action. Aelianna let fly her arrow, Garrick finished his roll and Warren resumed panicking.
“STOP!” Aldrick shouted as loudly as he could, running towards the battle. “STOP!”
All heads turned his way. Garrick narrowly dodged a fiery return swing, and retorted, “Are you crazy?”
“Put your weapons away!” Aldrick commanded, rejoining them. “I know what we’re here for, but we cannot get it by fighting. If you have ever trusted me, please do so now!”
With doubtful looks, his companions paused for a moment, and looked at each other. Slowly, they lowered their weapons. Garrick closed his eyes and grimaced, waiting for a looming blow to finish him. The giant stone Kian halted in mid-swing and lowered his flaming sword, standing erect and completely still. Garrick and Dathan sheathed their swords and Aelianna slung her bow over her shoulder, and the fiery weapon abruptly blinked out of existence.
“I’ll be damned,” Garrick wondered aloud.
Aelianna adjusted her bow on her shoulder. “How you know this?”
“It’s a long story,” Aldrick said, “but I can tell you what we are here for…the Tritaph.”
Gasps of recognition echoed around the room, and everyone but Aelianna stared at him with disbelieving expressions.
“The bloody Tritaph?”
“You must be joking!” Garrick said.
“I’m afraid not. The power we have come all this way to retrieve is the actual Tritaph itself, straight out of legend. More accurately, one third of it; we are here for the piece given to Kian after it was split.”
Aelianna raised an eyebrow. “What is Tritaph?”
“Nothing less than the cornerstone of all existence.”
“Where are the other two bloody pieces?”
“I have no idea where the other pieces are hidden…” Aldrick began, but was interrupted by the sound of grinding stone. A hidden section in the chest of the statue opened, and Kian reached inside and retrieved an immense wedge of dark obsidian. The form of Kian knelt down before them and held out the cart-sized third of the Tritaph.
“That is quite large,” Garrick observed. “I’m not carrying that back up the cliff.”
Before anyone could reply the dark wedge began to shrink, from nearly the size of a horse cart down to about the diameter of a small loaf of bread.
“That’s bloody brilliant,” Dathan grinned.
Aldrick stepped forward and reached out to take the Tritaph piece, but Garrick cried out, “Stay back! Don’t touch it!”
Aldrick yanked his hand back. “What’s wrong?”
“I feel a great danger here.”
Wa
rren glanced around the chamber. “Are you sure? I don’t see anything.”
“Go ahead and touch it, if you don’t believe me,” Garrick retorted.
Warren grimaced, and quickly backed away from the obsidian wedge as if it was a giant spider. “I’ll take your word for it,” he said in a quavering voice.
Garrick scanned the floor, and bent to retrieve a small chunk of stone left over from the statue breaking away from its base. He tossed it at the wedge, and the moment it struck there was a flash, followed by a shower of sparks. The stone itself never landed; it had been completely disintegrated.
The Key of Creation: Book 03 - The Temple of Kian Page 15