by Shawn Sodman
I decided that I should probably see if there was anything I could help them with. I stood up and walked to the base of the stairs as they began to walk down. The young woman's eyes took everything in.
“My name is David Michael,” I said to them. “Can I be of assistance?”
“Hello, David,” the hulking man said. “I am Sven, and this is Lyra.”
Lyra only glanced at me momentarily to say hello before she continued to look on in amazement. When they reached the bottom of the stairs, I shook Sven's hand. His grip was very firm, though I doubt he knew it.
Sven spoke up again. “Sven was wondering if Lyra could read books here. Sven and Lyra are friends of Chance Na'Moon.”
That was when I first realized who I was actually talking to. I wasn't completely certain, however, so I asked him, “Sven, your last name wouldn't be Litburg, would it?”
“Yes,” he replied. “How did you know?”
Suddenly my heart began to race. “I have read about your exploits in the Second Orcnea War!”
I started to walk briskly to the east wall to find Head Master Grunwalt's account of the war. Sven followed behind me and asked, “Someone wrote about Sven?”
“Yes,” I answered excitedly. “And it was the first historic account that I ever read.” Upon locating that book, I opened right to the page that I most enjoyed and handed it to Sven.
Lyra reached over and took the book from Sven, saying, “Sven can't read, but I can.” She then studied the pages for a few moments as Sven looked over her shoulder. Lyra asked, “Sven, you fought an ogre with your bare hands?”
“Yes,” Sven answered with a dismissive wave of his hand. “It was nothing.”
“It was far from nothing,” I said as Lyra handed me back the book. “Ever since I read this, I wanted to meet you. And now, here you are in my library. Well, not MY library, but you understand.”
Sven laughed, “See, Lyra, they are already telling tales of Sven.”
“That's great,” said Lyra. “I am very happy for you.”
“You just wait and see,” Sven stated. “Someday, all of this will be story as well.”
That was when Head Master Grunwalt emerged from the east wing through the connecting stone arch. He said, “Perhaps someday it will.” He was wearing his usual brown robe and carrying an armful of scrolls.
I rushed over to help him. “Master,” I said, “This is Sven Litburg. You wrote about him in your account of the Second Orcnea War.”
Master Grunwalt handed me the scrolls that needed to be put back into their proper place. He then adjusted his glasses as he stroked his long gray beard. “Ah, yes,” he began, “I remember now.”
Sven looked at him, puzzled, and asked, “How do you remember Sven? Sven does not believe that he has met you.”
“Oh, no. We haven't,” Grunwalt replied. “I remember you through the memories of others who fought with you in the war.”
Lyra asked him, “So, you read their minds?”
Grunwalt smiled and replied, “Yes, child.” I could see Sven's face cringe with the use of the word child to describe Lyra. However, if Grunwalt's words offended her, Lyra was polite and did not show it.
Suddenly I had a brilliant idea. “Master?” I said, trying to contain my excitement. “If it is all right with Mr. Litburg, may I use the wand of memories on him?”
Before Grunwalt had a chance to reply, Sven said, “Wait one moment. What is this 'wand of memories' you want to use on Sven?”
Master Grunwalt explained, “It is simply a tool to assist our apprentices with reading the memories of a subject until they can grow their skills to read them without it.”
Sven nodded and looked at me. “So, you wish to read Sven's memories?”
“Yes, sir,” I replied nervously. “I-if it is all right with you, of course. I would like to know what you have been doing since the Second Orcnea War, or even before it.”
Sven smiled and said to Lyra, “Do you hear that, Lyra? David wants to know Sven's story. Perhaps he will even write book about Sven.”
Lyra laughed and asked Sven, “Would I be in your story?”
“Sven certainly hopes so,” he replied with a warm smile.
Realizing that Master Grunwalt had not yet made a decision, I asked him again. “May I please read his memories, Master?”
Grunwalt answered, “I suppose there wouldn't be any harm. I'll fetch the wand and oversee the procedure.”
As Grunwalt went into the west wing of the library, Sven asked me, “What does Sven need to do?”
“Just sit down over here,” I instructed. “When I begin to use the spell, all you need to do is relax and let your mind wander. I will ask a few questions to set a starting point. After that, I can guide us through the thoughts and memories as if they were my own.”
Sven then sounded a little concerned. “So you will be able to see everything Sven has ever done?”
I answered reassuringly, “You can always take us away from certain memories if you wish. You are ultimately in control.”
“Good,” he replied. “There are certain... memories that you are a bit young to see.”
We laughed as Grunwalt returned with the wand. It was white with three pearls affixed to its base. It looked very much like a healing wand. Grunwalt handed me the wand and said, “Remember your training and you will be fine.”
Lyra asked, “How many times have you done this?”
Embarrassed, I answered, “I have only done it before in practice with the masters. Sven will be my first real subject.”
Grunwalt said, “There is nothing to be concerned about. David is the most gifted apprentice in the Historic Society.”
“Thank you, Master,” I replied humbly.
“Now, let's begin,” said Grunwalt. Sven was already sitting at a table as Lyra watched close by. Grunwalt said to Sven, “Close your eyes, and just listen to David’s words.”
Sven closed his eyes as Master Grunwalt looked at me and nodded. I took the memory wand and stood before Sven. I began to slowly circle the wand around his head. Closing my eyes, I began to let my mind wander. Soon I had the feeling that I was not alone in my drifting thoughts, so I decided to begin with my first question. “Sven, I would like you to think about your childhood.”
Suddenly there was a flash of light, and then I could see children playing on a stony beach. The air was cool, but comfortable. I said aloud to Sven, “It’s working.”
“Good,” Sven said with a calm tone. “What would you like to know?”
The truth of the matter was, I had no idea what I was looking for. I just wanted to know more about this gigantic man. I said to him, “Just let the thoughts flow about your childhood. Think of your friends, family, and anything that may have shaped you into the man—or should I say, the Goliath--that you are today.
What happened next was incredible. So many memories came at me so fast, I was struggling to sort them all out. Far too many to write here, but I can summarize that Sven was often bullied by the other boys, and that no matter how big and strong he was to the rest of the world, he was a dwarf among the half-giants. I suddenly began to feel sorry for Sven when I saw his memories of being pinned to the ground by the Goliath female, Tetyanna.
The memories quickly faded and I heard Sven's voice say to me, “That is enough of Sven's childhood.”
I couldn't have agreed more. I said to him, “Now, think about the first few years after you left Sigtuna.” Soon new memories began to flow. He was only sixteen when he left his home and ventured out into the world. He came across small farming villages and helped the villagers in exchange for steady meals and a place to stay. The hard, physical labor agreed with him, and in the next two years he would continue to grow taller while his strength became unrivaled to anyone south of the tundra.
Because of his size, he could find work as a guard, but didn't stay with it long, as he found himself being called to the sea. Goliaths are fishermen by trade and Sven was a natural aboard ship
s. This was when he met Fidelma McMurphy's father.
Once I was sifting through the memories of his time at New Waterford I heard Sven say, “Please be quick. These were not good times for Sven.”
I was able to quickly gather the information before moving on to the years that followed. Sven fought in the Second Orcnea War where he met Chance Na'Moon and King Arioch. The war lasted a year, and after that, Sven set out on a new set of adventures.
Over the next ten years, Sven traveled throughout Runefell. He was a very hard worker and was always paid well. His charismatic personality always got him work and women. There seemed to be a different woman in every town he visited. He never allowed himself to get too close as he was afraid of getting hurt once again. It seemed that when anyone fell in love with him, Sven would leave to the next town. Sven tried to distance himself from any woman that he felt would become too attached, and seemed to seek the company of the tavern wenches and whores.
There was no shortage of encounters with these women, but when I tried to look further into the memories, I could feel Sven pulling me away. He said sternly, “You have seen enough of those memories. Now, move onto something else.”
Not wanting to upset him, I moved on. I could see that not only did Sven leave behind a broken heart wherever he traveled, he also left behind other impressions. He helped save one town from a small band of barbarians. In another town, he helped rescue a family from slavers. With his great strength, he was able to help dig out the entrance to a collapsed mine and save the men of a small village. Indeed, there were songs to be sung of this man. Enough for his own book. I would have to ask Head Master Grunwalt for permission, but I was certain that he would say yes.
Soon the memories were of his short time at Copper Pass and of his meeting with the seven sisters, along with Kristieana. I took it all in as best as I could.
I ended the spell and said, “Thank you, Sven. It was truly an honor for me to see your life through your eyes. I promise that if I am chosen to write an account of this war, I will do you and your friends justice.”
Sven smiled and said, “Just make sure you don't forget Lyra. She saved Sven in Ogre's Mead.”
“Of course,” I replied. “Perhaps I could read Lyra's memories, as well.”
I looked at Lyra and could tell that she was uncertain. She finally said, “Maybe later. Right now, I would like to look around the library, if that's all right.”
Master Grunwalt replied, “Of course, please be our guest.”
Lyra began to walk around the perimeter, looking at the shelves of books and scrolls. She said, “There is so much to read. I could spend my entire life in this place.”
I laughed and said, “Many of these are nothing more than tax logs and weather accounts. Let me show you where the more interesting books are.”
We walked up the main stairs to the top level as Sven followed us. When we reached the top Sven said, “Sven will leave you to your books. Sven must be going now.”
Lyra, completely distracted, instinctively replied, “All right, I'll see you later. Thanks.” Her words seemed distant and she never looked at him. Her eyes were too busy reading the spines of the books before her.
I turned to Sven and said, “Thank you again.” He nodded as he looked past me at Lyra.
He forced a smile and said, “You’re welcome.”
Sven left the library to tend to other matters while Lyra stayed behind. It was a day I would never forget. From this point forth, the days that followed will be told from the proper perspective of the Historic Society. I am grateful that my master has allowed me to tell this small portion from my own perspective, even though it breaks with tradition and may be slightly confusing to some.
-David Michael
Chapter 33
The Refuges and the Diplomat
In the courtyard of the castle, Chance is approached by King Arioch. The King says to Chance, “It looks like the last of the refugees from Dury have arrived.”
“What are we going to do with them all?” Chance asks.
Arioch looks around at the courtyard that is now filled with makeshift shelters and tents. He says, “The lunar gate will open tomorrow. We will be able to send some through to Elonfar, but the elves have made it clear that they are only willing to take one thousand of them, and only women and children.”
“I was planning on sending Garrin to watch over Ambra and Kelik,” Chance says.
Arioch nods and replies, “I am sure they would make an exception for him. Besides, he would be of much more use to the war if he assisted with the making of weapons in the mana forge.”
Chance looks at all the people crowded into the city walls and says, “There are far more than a thousand women and children.”
“I know,” Arioch replies. “I think that after they have gathered their strength they should move on to Artos. Even though West Artos has not pledged any assistance, East Artos is currently mustering more troops and has said they will help in any way that they can.”
There is a commotion a short distance away as people begin to scatter. Chance looks up and can see the captain of the drake riders bringing his drake in for a landing. Soon the drake lands, and Belron dismounts from the flying beast as A'ranah joins the small gathering.
“King Arioch,” Belron greets him. “I have just come from scouting the north and I thought you should know that there are three orcneas approaching Sheathelm on horseback. They are flying a white, unmarked banner.”
Arioch asks, “Diplomats?”
“I believe so,” Belron replies. “They should be here in about two hours.”
Chance says to the king, “With your permission, I would like to meet with them.”
Arioch replies, “While I trust in your decision-making skills, I should go as well.”
“It would be far too risky for the King of Sheathelm to go himself,” Chance replies. “You would be a tempting target for a prisoner or an assassination attempt.”
“And so would the great 'Orcnea Slayer,'” Arioch laughs. “Or did you forget about that general we fought at Northwind?”
Chance shakes his head. “No, I didn't forget,” he replies.
A'ranah says to the king, “Arioch, I am afraid I must agree with Chance. While he would be as tempting to take prisoner as yourself, we cannot afford to risk losing you.” She turns to Chance and adds, “Not that we would ever want to lose you either.”
King Arioch looks at the sky drake and asks Belron, “Could your drake carry two people?”
“Of course,” Belron replies.
Arioch says to A'ranah. “I hope you are not fearful of heights.”
“I am not overly fond of them,” A'ranah replies with a laugh. “But I trust Belron will not let me fall.”
Belron runs his hand down the blue snout of the drake and says, “No, Nimbus and I will keep you safe.”
“The three of you will go,” Arioch says. “Chance, you will speak on my behalf. I trust in you to make the right decisions.”
“I will do my best,” Chance replies.
As A'ranah, Belron, and Chance prepare to leave, a short distance away Princess Kianna and Ya'leigh are helping bring water to the refugees. Kianna's handmaiden, Amanda, is there, along with Isen. Amanda says to the princess, “Princess, we should get you back to the castle. Your father said that you needed to change out of your travel clothes and look more like royalty than a soldier.”
Kianna, still in her armor, replies, “We can do that later. Right now, the people need us.”
Isen says, “Anyone can give them water, and you aren't a serving wench. You should get changed.”
“Then I won't be able to help,” Kianna says. “Looking like this, no one notices me, but the moment I look the part of a princess, everyone crowds around me and I can't get anything done.”
Isen surveys the surroundings and says, “Still, I think it would be safer for you in the castle.”
Ya'leigh says urgently, “Kianna, look, it's your father.�
� Ya'leigh ducks down quickly.
Kianna searches for King Arioch and when she spots him talking with Sven, Kianna ducks down as well and says, “All right, let's go back to the castle before he sees us.”
Fortunately for the princess, Sven has King Arioch's undivided attention. Sven says to him, “Sven was looking for Chance. Have you seen him?”
Arioch answers, “Yes, he just left a few minutes ago. I am not sure when he will be back, but I will let him know you are looking for him.”
“Thank you,” Sven replies.
To the north, Belron and A'ranah ride the sky drake, Nimbus, while Chance flies behind them in his eagle form. A'ranah asks Belron, “So, how is my granddaughter doing these days?”
Belron answers, “Nicari is doing well. I expect you will see her soon, though. She plans on joining us when the lunar gate opens.”
“Good,” A'ranah says with a smile. “I just hope that she hasn't let her skills become dull.”
“I am concerned with that as well,” Belron says as he looks down at the road ahead. “I even suggested that she stay in Elonfar, but she refuses to.”
“Of course she does,” A'ranah replies. “You didn't honestly expect her to stay behind while you put yourself at risk, did you?”
“No,” Belron laughs. “I suppose not.”
“Belron,” A'ranah says more solemnly. “When we reach these orcneas, I want you to watch out for anything suspicious. Chance was right not to let Arioch come, but I feel that if these beasts realize that they are negotiating with Chance, they may try to do something foolish.”
“I'll be ready,” says Belron.
A'ranah looks back at Chance for a moment, then turns back to Belron and says, “And while you watch the orcneas, I will be keeping a close watch on Chance.”
Belron, puzzled, asks, “Are you afraid that he will do something foolish?”
A'ranah sighs, “I don't know what to expect. No one hates the orcneas more than Chance. I am concerned that he could easily be provoked into a fight, and that is exactly what we must avoid. Killing messengers will only serve to motivate the enemy more than they already are.”