The Redemption, Volume 1

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The Redemption, Volume 1 Page 62

by Clyde B Northrup


  “What happened?” Tevvy asked Rokwolf.

  The seklesi sighed and sat down next to a cooking fire. “Did you get the staff?” he asked.

  Tevvy nodded, coming to sit nearby, then pointed back at Klaybear and Klare, still surrounded by green light; Thal joined them. The sounds of battle were fewer and farther away; Klaybear sobbed again, but his voice was muffled.

  “A couple of hours after sunrise,” Rokwolf began, but Tevvy interrupted him.

  “I meant after we left,” Tevvy said.

  “Sorry,” Rokwolf said, and he explained how they had watched over Klare’s mother and sister through the night, with a growing sense of dread, and how he had discovered the looters moving through the ruins; how her sister had run off and was killed by the looters; how he and Klare had been trying to move her mother at the time, and how she had fallen off their makeshift stretcher, which had hastened her end. “Two hours after the sun rose, we left the village with the horses,” he went on, “hoping to avoid any more notice of the looters, but we did not get far: the purem appeared from nowhere and captured us; the way was clear; I checked, and then they were suddenly all around us.”

  Thal nodded. “I’d bet that when those sent to catch us reported, the morgle sent those who captured you directly to you in the same way that we found and came to you. We learned from Shigmar how to do this with the sword and staff.”

  “What happened when Blakstar arrived?” Tevvy asked.

  Rokwolf shook his head. “Lucky for him and you,” Rokwolf replied, “my guards had turned to watch . . . ,” he hesitated, “watch what the others were doing to Klare. Otherwise, he might have had a bigger fight on his hands, but then again, maybe it would not have mattered. When he came through, he was completely out of his mind, berserk, as we say, and nothing could stand in the face of his wrath. He was like a golden fire, surrounded by light, his sword a tongue of flame that cut them down like dry grass. He just destroyed an entire company of purem, all by himself. None of their weapons seemed to touch him; their ortheks simply bounced off him, and when they realized their danger, they began to flee from him; that was when the rest of you arrived.”

  “But that was only seconds after he left us!” Tevvy exclaimed.

  Rokwolf nodded. “I would not believe you,” he said in a defeated voice, “if you had seen it and I had not.”

  “Help me,” Klaybear croaked.

  They turned to look at him; he was no longer encased in light, although the nimbus still surrounded Klare and pulsed with the slow beating of her heart.

  “I have done all that I can,” Klaybear went on, his voice cracking, “I have healed her body, but something has happened to her mind.”

  Thal stood up and moved quickly to his side, shifting his awareness so that he could look into Klare’s mind. Are you with me? he asked Klaybear.

  Klaybear nodded once, keeping his mouth closed for fear of sobbing again.

  Thal looked into the patterns of Klare’s mind and saw that her whole mind was clouded by a darkness whose source he could not see. How does it compare to the way it was when you, with the help of the One, knit it back together? he thought to Klaybear.

  It looks the same, but it is hard to tell through the darkness, Klaybear thought back.

  It is the source of the darkness that we must find, Thal thought, and deal with. You should stay here, on the surface, while I try and locate the source; that way, if I get lost in the darkness, you can guide me back out without further disturbing her mind.

  Okay, Klaybear thought back weakly.

  Thal allowed his awareness to sink into Klare’s mind; he moved carefully past the surface, moving slowly through the spaces in the patterns. Her mind was complex beyond most that he had seen; Thal thought that it rivaled his mother’s mind for the intricacies of the patterns of Klare’s thought. He had seen nothing like this in any other mind that he had seen, except for one, and thinking of that mind made the blood rise to his cheeks. He pulled his thoughts back to the present, knowing that a single distraction could cause irreversible damage to Klare’s mind, if it hadn’t already happened, and he feared it had. He wove his way past the upper levels, following the darkness like a beacon, moving lower and deeper into her mind. Finally, after what seemed an age, he found what he sought at the lowest levels, where he knew the autonomic impulses had their source, keeping the body breathing, the heart beating, along with a multitude of other automatic functions. He circled around the source of the dark clouds, analyzing the pattern, and what he saw surprised him at first, and then he laughed.

  What is it? Klaybear’s thought floated to him from a great distance. I heard you laugh.

  Yes, I did, Thal thought back. When you had help knitting her mind back together, who was working on this side, down here?

  Klaybear thought back to that moment that seemed so long ago, trying to remember who worked on that side and low. He thought it was the feminine voice, who the One called his “mother.” If the One is our ultimate Father, he thought to Thal, then it was our ultimate Mother who repaired that area.

  Thal laughed again. Yes, that makes sense.

  What? Klaybear thought.

  Unless I’m mistaken, Thal thought, and I will check again to be sure, but it looks like she put a slipknot in the pattern, here, where the damage is, and if I pull that knot loose, this section of the pattern will unravel, and the damage will no longer exist, so the darkness clouding her mind will dissipate.

  Do you want me to come and help? Klaybear asked.

  No, Thal thought back, it will be difficult enough for me to leave without altering anything else. If you come down here the chances for accidental alterations increases exponentially.

  Won’t untying that knot change her? Klaybear thought.

  Yes. Thal replied.

  How? Klaybear asked.

  I cannot say for sure, Thal replied, nor can I say that it will eliminate all of the damage. Days may pass before we know, maybe even months and years. But if we do nothing, the darkness will continue to grow, consuming her mind.

  For a time, there was silence. Thal waited, examining the knot and the probable effects of untying that knot.

  I can see no alternative, Klaybear thought.

  I’m going over it again right now, to be sure, then I’ll untie the knot and watch it until it stops, Thal noted, in case anything goes wrong.

  Thal was not surprised that Klaybear did not respond; he could hardly imagine how he must feel. It amazed him that the pattern had been knit together here in such a way that the damage could be undone, but as he examined it for the second time, he could see that it would only be partially undone, that parts of the damage to the pattern would remain. He reached out with his mental fingers and pulled the knot loose; threads of the pattern began to unravel, slowly at first, then faster, then slower, until it ceased. Thal let out a mental sigh, and watched as the darkness dimmed and nearly winked out, but the clouds across the patterns above remained. He knew they would dissipate, in time. He looked back at the area that had been dark, and he wondered if it could be repaired with the Rod of Melbarth. He checked the places at the edges of the damage, ensuring that the pattern would not unravel further. Satisfied, he began the slow journey back to the surface of her mind and out.

  It’s done, Thal thought to Klaybear.

  You’ve undone the damage? Klaybear thought back.

  As much as could be, at this point. If I had the rod, I think I could repair it all. He paused, waiting for a response from Klaybear. After a few moments, he went on. What amazes me is that our ultimate mother could have anticipated this damage to Klare in her future, and built into the pattern as she knitted it back together an area that I could later unravel, without the entire structure of her mind unraveling. Only someone who was a master of knitting could have accomplished such a feat. He fell silent, weaving his way carefully through the complex patterns of Klare’s mind.

  How will she be? Klaybear thought as Thal neared the surface.
<
br />   I do not know, Thal thought back. The kind of trauma that she has suffered, both physical and mental, may take a long time to heal. Add to this trauma, the sorrow that she must feel at losing all of her family in a single day. Thal reached the surface of her mind, then switched his awareness back to normal. He saw Klaybear still holding Klare tightly to his chest, still sobbing into her dirty hair; the green nimbus surrounding her faded, although the emerald eye of breath-giver continued to glow and pulse in time with her heart. He looked around and saw Tevvy watching them, saw Rokwolf sitting next to Tevvy, head held in his hands. He heard a sound beyond them and saw Blakstar forming out of the shadows under the trees. The kortexi held the hilt of his sword, but the point dragged across the springy loam under the trees; that was the sound he had heard.

  “It is done,” Blakstar said hoarsely. “All who had a part in what happened here are dead.”

  Klaybear sobbed again; Thal looked at him, then stood up and turned, to face the others. “I think we should leave here quickly,” he noted, “before the morgle sends another company to capture us.”

  “A company would not be enough,” Blakstar said in the same hoarse voice. He stood, still facing them; he was covered in blood.

  Rokwolf looked up and noticed; he turned to Tevvy. “The lake is about half-a-mile in that direction. Take our valiant kortexi to it and help him wash the blood from his clothes, armor, and weapon. I don’t think it would be wise for him to come near Klare looking–or smelling–like that.”

  “Her condition is very delicate,” Thal said. “We will have to be very careful around her for a while, until we are sure she has recovered.”

  Tevvy nodded. “Come, Sir Blakstar,” he said formally, “we will go and wash away the stains of battle.” He took Blakstar’s left hand and led him toward the lake, sword point still dragging across the ground.

  Chapter 18

  Of all the races, the vedem are the most enigmatic and reclusive; they rebuff all efforts toward friendship and turn back all delegations, refusing to treat with, or even speak to, anyone not of their race. Thus, we know little of them or their ways. . . .

  from Annals of Melbarth, Fifth Series, Early Lectures of the Hierarchs

  Lecture by Sedra Melbarth

  “I do not think we should go directly to the hill,” Rokwolf said. They sat around the fire; Klaybear still knelt off to the side, holding the unconscious Klare, now wrapped in a blanket, tightly to his chest. “Everything that has happened, especially the way Gar and the morgle have anticipated our every move, tells me they will know where we will go when we have the staff.”

  “How could they know that we have gotten the staff?” Tevvy asked.

  “The morgle should know by now, as he has the rod,” Thal said. “We will not be safe anywhere until we get the rod, as whoever holds the rod can locate us in an instant.”

  “I had forgotten,” Tevvy admitted, “but I thought the verghrenum masked our location,” he added, holding up his arms.

  “They mask us from mental scrying and attack,” Thal said, “but the sword, rod, and staff are connected, so anyone who knows how, can, holding one of the three keys, find the other two.”

  “Which is exactly why,” Rokwolf said, “I think going directly to the hilltop would be a mistake.”

  “And it is also why,” Thal added, “we cannot stay here, or any other place, for much longer.”

  Tevvy looked around nervously. “Perhaps we have already stayed here too long.”

  Rokwolf nodded. “We need to get Klare to a safe place,” he said, lowering his voice.

  “Why not our sanctuary beneath Shigmar?” Tevvy suggested.

  “We closed the door when we left,” Thal said, “so time, in the chamber has stopped, and I do not think even the sword or staff could penetrate.”

  “Why not open a door to the entrance hall, or the sewers?” Tevvy asked.

  “Or the school Infirmary,” Rokwolf added.

  Thal was shaking his head. “When any city is under attack,” he said, “defensive ortheks are enacted that will prevent someone hostile from teleporting directly into the city.”

  “But you said the sword and staff did not use teleportation teka,” Tevvy protested.

  “Not in the same way,” Thal replied, “but it was Melbarth who designed the teka, with the help of Shigmar, so I’m certain they would have included the three keys in that defensive teka, in case the keys fell into the wrong hands. We could try,” he added after a moment, “just be prepared for failure.”

  Blakstar stood up, drawing his sword. He thought for a moment. “How about the room where we met with the Headmaster?”

  Thal shrugged. “That’s as good as any.”

  The kortexi drew the circle on the ground, his sword surrounded by golden light, then drew the arch in the air; nothing happened.

  Thal smiled, but said nothing.

  Tevvy stood suddenly. “I know where,” he said, checking his pockets and pulling out a rusty key.

  The others looked at him, surprised. Thal looked closely at the key. “Isn’t that the key the Headmaster gave you to open the sewer gate?”

  Tevvy nodded, grinning.

  “So you are suggesting we go to that shelf of rock, and enter the sewers?” Thal asked.

  Tevvy nodded again.

  “It won’t work,” Blakstar said, “we could not take the horses onto that shelf, let alone, take them into the sewers.”

  “We could put Klare on my pony,” Tevvy suggested, “it would fit, and I could take Klare to our sanctuary, or up into the school, for that matter.”

  “You couldn’t get into the school, since the passage into the dungeon collapsed,” Klaybear said.

  “I could use a different sewer grate,” Tevvy said, “or enter the teleport house. They would take her, a fellow, injured kailu, to the school.”

  Klaybear looked up; he spoke in twin. “You must go with her,” he croaked, “since I cannot. I must destroy those who have hurt her.”

  Rokwolf opened his mouth to protest but stopped when he saw the look in his twin brother’s eyes. He nodded. “Get your pony,” Rokwolf said to Tevvy. He looked to Blakstar and Thal. “You’ll have to take the other horses with you. I think it would be best if you made several doorways, moving to several different places: that might confuse, or at least, slow down, the morgle. I’d go to the place we left when we opened a door into Kalbant to escape pursuit.”

  They nodded, following Tevvy to retrieve the horses. Rokwolf moved to his brother’s side. “I’m sorry, bearman,” he whispered in twin; “I failed you.”

  “No, wolfman,” Klaybear replied, “you did not fail, not here, not when Marilee was given the illness that marked her and Delgart. Thal’s right, these kinds of things will continue to happen to us as long as someone among our enemies holds the rod.” He looked up, his face grim. “We will catch the beast on the battlefield and destroy him along with his army, and then the rod will be ours, and Thal can repair the damage done to my mate.” His eyes grew distant. “And then, we will destroy Gar, and end this once and for all.”

  Rokwolf looked at his twin for a long moment before nodding; the look on Klaybear’s face was frightening, filled with anger and granite resolve. But then his face changed, and he looked around.

  “What is that sound?” Klaybear asked.

  “I hear it,” Rokwolf replied, looking down. “Your staff,” he said.

  Klaybear picked up the staff where he had dropped it beside him, felt it humming as the sword had done. “We’ve got to get out of here,” Klaybear said.

  “Give me Klare,” Rokwolf replied, “and open a doorway to that shelf Tevvy spoke of.” He took Klare as Klaybear stood. They heard the sounds of running feet and hooves; Klaybear turned and jogged toward Tevvy. “You heard?” Rokwolf asked without turning.

  “We did,” Thal replied.

  “I did not see the shelf outside the sewers,” Klaybear noted, “so I cannot open the door.”

  “But
if I open the door,” Tevvy protested, “the staff will be with me.”

  “Both of you hold the staff!” Thal exclaimed, “Tevvy can open the door, then step through and release the staff to Klaybear.”

  “Are you sure it will work?” Klaybear asked.

  “No time,” Tevvy replied, pointing at an archway starting to open. He grabbed the staff below Klaybear’s hand and started to draw, green light flaring from the emerald eye; nearby, Blakstar was doing the same, his sword surrounded by golden flames. Tevvy’s doorway opened first, and Rokwolf leapt through carrying Klare. Tevvy followed, releasing the staff and leading his pony through. Thal sent forked lightning against the purem who had come through the morgle’s doorway. Blakstar’s door opened; Klaybear lifted his staff and closed the door, and he turned and sent a bolt of green fire through the door opened by the morgle, striking the purem leaping through. Thal stepped into the archway leading three of their horses; Klaybear sent another bolt of green fire into the morgle’s arch as he took the reins of Blakstar’s horse and his own, stepping through the archway. The kortexi followed, lifting his sword and closing the archway, rolling forward to dodge the bolt of red fire that followed him through, winking out as soon as the archway closed.

  “Well that was . . . ,” Blakstar started to say, but before the words were out, a net fell over his head, dragging him to the ground; he felt a blow to his head, his consciousness winking out, wondering how they could have been so stupid.

  When Rokwolf reached the gate, he paused to place Klare’s limp body onto Tevvy’s pony, and Tevvy took out the rusty key given to him by the Headmaster and unlocked the gate. Rokwolf led the pony through; Tevvy closed the gate again and tried to lock it and cursed.

  “What’s wrong?” Rokwolf asked, wrapping a cloth around his mouth.

  “The key won’t come out!” he exclaimed. He fiddled with the lock for a moment. “I can lock the gate, but the key will not come out, or I can leave the gate unlocked and take the key.”

 

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