by Nelson, J P
“This,” he said, referring to his drink, “I have always had imported directly from N’Ville, and these particular beans are grown only in Lh’Gohria, until now. Often times I would receive a news writing from N’Ville, and what I might gain from couriers traveling here and there. Of course, now …” there was no reason for him to continue.
When he said until now, Hoscoe was referring to my major contribution for his comfort, here. I had managed to *Heal* some of his roasted beans and cause some of them to sprout. Most of the plants in his quarters were coffee bean plants. I tended them regularly and touched them often, keeping them continually producing beans. Sometimes he called them bonsai beans, but they were full sized and still carried that rich flavor he loved. I had to admit I had grown to like it as well.
Together we sipped coffee and said nothing. And then I asked, “Why?”
Hoscoe wiped his mouth, and then said, “I do not know. You see, I cannot find a motive. Many believe this world is going to end when the alignment occurs. Many believe the gods are coming. Others seem to be planning a world conquest after the alignment.”
Turning to look at his map he thought some more and said, “If I were planning something like this, however … if I were positioning armies in such a way … if I were on a quest for continental, or even world conquest …”
Very deliberately, as if making a critical move in a chess game with someone whose tactics he didn’t know, Hoscoe then said, “It is my gut feeling that someone is planning to make war, before the alignment. And the objective has nothing to do with territorial resources or some sort of vendetta.”
Getting up and moving back to the map he said, “It is my feeling … that the prize these armies are after must be won precluding the eve of transition from 5168 to 5169 ED. That is approximately thirty-five years from now.
“I do not know what the prize might be, or why they want it, but I believe it is here.” He pointed at a very specific place in the middle of the Phabeon Sea, a place where a blurred image representing a city was painted in. “And to get to it,” he added gravely, “they will have to grow gills … or drain the entire basin.”
I got up and walked over to look for myself, but I didn’t really need to. Hoscoe’s finger was dead on the ancient elvin city of Phabeous. ‘To drain the entire sea,’ I thought. In a subtle blur I saw a line I hadn’t noticed before, the original river bed of the Teshucarr River.
If the sea were drained, based on the contours of the land and any possible course the Teshucarr might take in its flow to the ocean, it would place the ancient city to the east of the river, regardless. And of all the forces Hoscoe had identified on his map, these cognobins would have an easy go of getting there first.
Looking back at the original map of the entire Jho’Menquita Territory, I traced an imaginary line between the bulk of cognobin forces and the Pehnaché River Canyon Bridge. The young city of Kiubejhan was right in the middle, and based on what Hoscoe was saying, they weren’t going to wait thirty-five years.
Chapter 40
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THE EMDEJON FALLS were estimated to be three hundred and eighty-five feet tall, and believed to be the tallest waterfall in the world. Hoscoe said it was the only way to drain the Phabeon Sea, if that was to be done at all. What he meant was, to drain the Phabeon, the falls would have to be somehow destroyed.
“As you know, the sea has not always been here. It was created during the Kl’Duryq War, when the Symboli Maidens were brought down to choke up the river. There is a painting of it in the Cahf Nl’Ouan. Twin pillars of rock standing, oh, way high, like a colossal fork up to the heavens.
“The Teshucarr flowed east of the Emdejon Hills, down through Leuma’s Gap and still winds south to fall into the Argos Ocean.” Hoscoe’s face became one of awe. “Magnificent, truly a work of natural beauty. The falls are perhaps a bit more than one hundred and sixty feet high and you can see a cave or two behind the water. There is no way to get in there, though. Sailors believe there is a guardian dragon living in there, although no one has ever seen it, nor is there any evidence it exists.
“Those who sail around Cape D’Vhall like to journey past the Teshucarr Falls to see the splendor. It is one of the wonders of the world, and when the sun hits it just right, you can see all of the colors of the prism.”
“You speak like you’ve seen it, Hoscoe.”
He smiled an old smile, in his eyes were a haunted look, “Yes, Wolf. I have seen it.”
“What?! When?”
I couldn’t tell if Hoscoe was trying to decide what not to tell me, or if it were so long ago he was trying to remember. Then he explained, “It has been many years past. A group of eleven of us came looking for an artifact called the ‘Eye of Anu-Rah.’ Reportedly one could gain knowledge of past, present and even the future.”
He said sort of sheepishly, “I had hoped to solve the puzzle of Oshang, myself, and it sounded like the best way to gain some information.” He raised his eyebrows, “Well, it was a thought. But, we never found it.
“Two of us were caught in those damned Lihtosax webs, Tiskites accounted for three more and … well … anyway. Only four of us made it out.”
Hoscoe turned to the Territory map and pointed along the Teshucarr River, “Around here, maybe four easy days ride from where the Brosman Iron Mine is now, there is a cul-de-sac with an ancient gateway built into the side of the mountain.
“We had found an old man whose tongue had been removed, but who supposedly knew the magical password to get us through. When we got there, however, none of us could pronounce it correctly. Or else it was fraud. According to story, there is a tunnel called Cherron’s Road, and if you make it through, there is an ancient staircase down to the Teshucarr River.
“There is supposed to be an old trail which you can travel past the worst of the rapids, and there are supposed to be several which could be class five. In any case, there is a flat place where a small wood grows. From there, an old hanging bridge is supposed to carry you to the other side.
“We had hoped to go that way and perhaps find Xibalba and hunt around, or even go in there. But we were caught in a bloody fight with the Tiskites and five of us were captured. We were all wounded, but managed to break free and finally made it to the Pehnaché Bridge.
“Before we made the bridge, though, we had to fend off attacks from Attaracks, and us without weapons.”
There was a moment of silence before he continued, “There … was nothing we could do. I can still hear him scream.” Hoscoe closed his eyes and shook his head.
Pulling up his mantle, he exposed his back. I saw a network of scars from what looked like claw marks and teeth. “He was my good friend. The others had to pull me out of there.
“Telling his wife was a challenge, and looking into the brown eyes of his little son. Well … we go on. We must. It is a part of being a man, or woman, of war. When you battle long enough, you eventually lose someone you care about. And it will happen more than once. The best thing you can do is honor their memory from time to time.”
He seemed to shake himself out of his thoughts and came back to the puzzle, “The falls. I do not know how they could be brought down. It would take something huge, and even then probably something magical.”
“I was thinking about the elemental creatures, you know, when Meidra disappeared.”
“Yes, Wolf, so was I.”
“So, what do we do? What can we do?”
Hoscoe glanced at me with a chuckle, thought, and clicked his tongue against his teeth, “Now you are thinking like Oshang.”
I scowled and he chuckled some more, “We keep our eyes open. And then we do what needs be done, when the time comes.”
“But what would that be? We’re kept in here in the city, you aren’t allowed to ride, and what would we be looking for? How much can we do, anyway?”
“What our parts in the play might be, who knows? Something to remember, however, one person can oft times make
all of the difference. In the meantime, we look for what is not natural. Then we plot our solution and carry on from there.”
He looked out the window, “When the cognobins first started making appearances, it was summer time and there were strange changes in the weather. I think we may be out of the city soon, but Wolf, I do not think the cognobins are the real problem.”
“Then, what is the real problem?”
His breath was deep, and then he replied, “I am still working on that issue, but I do not think we’ve seen it yet. In fact, I am sure we have not.”
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Before leaving that evening, Hoscoe took the time to say, “About Gohruvae, he has a solid reputation. I think you have made a good friend. Actually, I think you have made several good friends. You have done well.”
I started to go to my quarters when he stopped me, “How about Riana?”
“What about her?” I began to flush a bit.
Hoscoe winked at me, “I think you should call on her. She seems like a nice young lady.”
I walked to my quarters. Yes, she was. And I had thought about her several times. But what about Lath? She still came to my mind as well. And I had only seen her that once, well twice, over three years ago.
At chow the next morning I asked Izner about, what if, there had been a girl, you know, somewhere way off, and you felt something, but didn’t know what, but you saw someone else who was nice, but what about …
Izner had a mouth full of eggs, morning steak and biscuit. He tried to talk, bounced his head while trying to chew in a hurry, then washed it down with hot tea and wiping his mouth with a napkin asked, “You mean Riana?”
Looking around a bit, I answered, “Yeah.”
He laughed and said, “Hey mate, she’s nice, and I hear she really likes you. But it ain’t like your goin’ to marry her. See her, like her, and it’s okay. You could have your pick of the girls, you know? But decide what kind of reputation you want. Cause she’ll tell everyone, whatever you do.” He then went on about his string of broken hearts going back to when he was six years old, or something like that.
Izner’s words brought back the many times Hoscoe had talked about treating a lady right. “Women will respect a gentleman, but many tend to sleep with gnolls. But don’t you be the fool, either. There is a proper and improper way about everything. The thing to do is be a man of class from beginning to end, regardless.”
Humday continued to be my night at Baldwin’s, and I played with the Dom and band on Munday and Thursday evenings.
Ander went with me one afternoon and we stopped in at the Lynmire Dress Boutique. Sure enough, Riana was in there and when she saw me she got real excited. It had been two weeks since the ball, but she knew soldiers are real busy, or so she said. Anyway, we talked a little and we set an evening when I could come over to her parent’s home to have tea.
We did that several times; it was real nice and her family was very pleasant. Every time I was with her, though, I would always get this hot feeling all throughout my body. It wasn’t something I was used to, but it felt good, almost empowering.
Something was bothering me though. I was becoming irritable a lot lately. There was nothing I could pinpoint as being wrong, but deep down inside I felt angry; angry and agitated. Once I snapped off a comment to Ander, and then immediately apologized.
“Hey, mate, it’s alright.” He said. “What’s wrong? Do you want to talk about it? Did Riana say or do something?”
“No.” I answered. Shaking my head I said, “I don’t know what it is.” And with that I excused myself and went to my quarters. Even playing the guitar was sometimes irritating, and I was still having trouble sleeping at night.
For two months Riana and I met occasionally for tea, and one evening we went to the rooftop to look at the stars. It was our first time actually being alone. Courting in the city was a carefully watched over affair. They say in Malone guys and gals just go out all over the place, no chaperones or anything. But here, it was very formal, a lot like they say it is in Vedoa.
I felt a little awkward, but we started talking about the strange weather patterns, the clear sky and the stars. I pointed out the Archer and some other constellations and after a while we were just quiet. I found her hand in mine and warmth went all through my body. It got a little tough for me to breathe and then I felt power surge up through me. I found it hard to control, for I had nothing to use it for and no reason for it to be manifesting. A gentle wind blew and my hair got that tingling feeling again. I looked at her and her red hair was blowing as well.
Riana looked up at me and I knew she could feel something, and she took my other hand. I could feel my energy gently flow into her and her eyes widened a little. She took a deep breath and smiled at me. When our lips touched for the first time, it was like nothing I could ever explain.
Leaving her home that night I had a hard time keeping my feet on the ground. I mean I felt so empowered I might could have floated to the moons. But it touched something else too, something deep within me. Kissing Riana was the sweetest moment I had ever experienced, so what was this other thing? It almost felt like an awakening.
My breath came in hard and labored for a brief time, and I had to shake my head to clear my thoughts. I felt like an animal, like something primitive and wild. Arriving at my quarters and laying down, I had a hard time getting to sleep.
The next day I felt crabby and had to watch myself carefully, so as not to get into an argument with anyone.
When evening came, and it was time for me to work out with Hoscoe, I didn’t want to be there. I don’t know where I wanted to be, but not there. He came in and was watching me carefully. In fact, I noticed he had been watching me a lot lately. When I would ask him why, he would shrug his shoulders and hold his hands up as if to say, nothing in particular.
But that look was starting to get on my nerves, and it aggravated me now. If he had something to say, why didn’t he go ahead and say it. I shook my head violently to clear my thoughts.
Casually, but with what seemed like a subtle edge to his voice, Hoscoe asked, “What’s the problem? Are you shirking your education?”
I looked at him suddenly and with anger. What was he talking about? Shirking? I wasn’t shirking anything. “I’m here aren’t I?” I retorted. What was wrong with me? I had no business talking with him that way.
Calmly, Hoscoe poured his coffee, and then walked to the center of the floor.
“Whenever you’re ready …” He took a sip and I vaulted at him and slashed hard as he met my blade with an effortless movement. It dawned upon me I had not taken time to give him salute or exchange any form of courtesy. But inside, I felt that burn. Suddenly I didn’t care. It was a silly custom, anyway. This was about fighting!
With rapid fire, I levied assault after assault at Hoscoe. Each time he kept batting me away, touching this body part or that, but he said not a word. I struck at him hard, and watched him sip that damned coffee mug while smacking my hand numb, knocking my blade out of hand, and then sweeping me off of my feet.
Anger … no, rage … was it rage? What was this filling me, begging for release?
“Again,” Hoscoe said, and as I got to my feet he flipped my sword to me off of the floor with his own blade tip. What an insult.
My next charge should have worked, it really should have. I wanted to catch him off guard with a sudden movement, so the moment I caught the sword I lunged, but he brushed me off easily and with a kick to the rump sent me hard into a post. From deep within I felt the rage meet the heat from So’Yeth. Leaning my head against the post I tried to shake my head clear, but it wasn’t working.
That primitive, wild feeling of raw power rushed through me and pounded my skull, seeking, begging for release. My hands were trembling and my breathing became very deep. Something wanted out.
“What is your problem?” asked Hoscoe, almost contemptuously, “Is that all you’ve got?”
When I opened my e
yes I felt a rush of energy from my feet to my head. The hairs of my arm tingled and I felt my eyes narrow to slits. From my throat came a low growl, such as might come from a savage beast. I let it go.
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Turning around I saw the room and smelled sweat. I heard the rustle of mice scurry from the room. Through the hard packed dirt below my feet I was *Aware* of something repeatedly pelting the ground outside. A surge of something like electricity charged my body, and I liked it.
The man before me stood with a training sword in hand. Where he had been standing in a relaxed cat stance, he now slowly adjusted his posture and his demeanor changed.
I knew this man, this human. His name was Hoscoe. He had been a general once, then a guard, and he had been training me for three years. But now he was my opponent and he was taunting me into a fight. Was that a cup he held in the one hand? Did he not know that cup was useless? It was nothing more than a distraction, a taunt. Nothing more.
No, the real objective was there, his center. I could see his heat underneath his garments as my elvin vision was intensified. His heat; my target. It was so clear. I could smell him strongly over here, from thirty feet away. His scent was changing.
I stalked him the way a predator would stalk its prey. His movements became precise and deliberate. I thought I saw him wave the mug, but my focus was the heat, the center of his being.
When I launched my attack he sprang like a cat and met me with a clash of steel. I could feel the power course through my veins and muscles as I let go. The clang-clang of our blades sounded hard through the hall as I pressed this man. All I could see was the heat, the movement of his blade was only in my way.
I could feel myself growling like an animal as I let it all flow out as the human came back with all he had. Press-press-faster-faster-faster. The human couldn’t possibly move that quick, so nimble, but he did. Across the fighting hall we made the steel sing. Faster-faster-more power.