‘Very well, I shall make preparations, and then I shall return to my work. You, in the meantime, please eat something.’ Truelove handed him a bowl of broth that swirled with steam.
He took it and looked at it, no longer hungry. Now that he had time to think, he was clouded by grief; his wife’s death was akin to a knife through the heart.
Eliana Truelove left him sat in his chair to stare at his bowl. She furrowed her brow in concern for him, and a tear ran down her cheek that she wiped away with her sleeve. She had fond memories of Eraywen. Even as a child they had played together, and now to lose her so young wrenched her heart.
She left Jericho where he sat, raced to the farthest corner of the dormitory, and pushed aside a secret door set within a dusty old bookcase. It swung aside to reveal a dark and narrow staircase that led upwards. She slipped inside and wound her way to the top as quickly as she dared. At the top, she opened a small wooden door. Sunlight made her squint, and she was forced to shield her eyes from the glare.
She entered a brightly lit room. The space itself was aft of the infirmary and was minus a rear wall. Only a thick rope cordoned off the drop.
The paintwork had lost much of its finesse, the weather had not agreed with it. Any furniture had long been removed and replaced with an oddly shaped contraption in the centre of the room that included a large ship’s compass sitting in a wooden frame, and a tiller that hung from the edge of the chamber.
Eliana glanced at a map of the known continents of Er’ath that had been pinned to the wall opposite her. From this crude document, and a check of the sun, she determined the necessary course. Once done, she manoeuvred the wooden tiller to make the desired course correction. All the while she kept half an eye on the compass for accuracy. Satisfied, she lashed the control to its current heading and grasped a second handle that protruded from a wooden wheel. She turned this with vigour and listened to the sounds of the mast rising from its horizontal position to vertical. She felt the building heave as the wind caught the sail and altered their course. Completed, she locked the handle in place, and then wiped her sweaty brow as she retreated from the room.
She entered her study a few minutes later to find Jericho asleep in his chair, and his food untouched. She quietly retrieved a woollen blanket, carefully draped it across her brother, and then joined him in the chair opposite. She would let him sleep, that was the best medicine.
TRIALS AND TRIBULATIONS
Following his unscheduled meeting with former Archmage Orodor, Coinin had rejoined Marrok in his chambers and received a grilling for his disappearance with Menin for three days.
‘I hadn’t realised the time,’ said Coinin.
‘That’s an excuse you use with Uncle, not me,’ said Marrok, who sounded like an annoyed father whose son had not kept a curfew. ‘Just a quick word telling me where you were wouldn’t have hurt.’
‘I know. I’m sorry. Let’s not argue about this, I have so much to tell you.’ Coinin stood to look out across the lawn from the only window in the room. He could hardly tell that a battle had taken place some three weeks ago. The cleanup appeared to be going well.
‘What is it, brother?’ Marrok asked, a worried tone creeping into his voice.
‘I have decided to follow my destiny and take the Curatorship of The Brotherhood of The Wulf,’ said Coinin proudly.
‘I thought you were against this idea.’
‘I believe you need to know the bigger picture. It seems we haven’t followed Rindor’s greatest directive, and as a result, we may very well pay the price of failure.’
‘What directive? What do we have to do with it?’
‘I’ll get to the directive in a minute. But I think it’s important you should know that we are the last in the line of the family Wulf, charged with defending the beliefs handed down by the gods. Father was training us to take the honour of serving the temple. That was until his death, and then everything changed. Uncle Draken failed to heed the importance of our upbringing, so never continued father’s work fully. We were chosen for this, and our coming has been foretold for millennia. Now, Archmage Orodor has passed the keys to his Office to Menin, and that paves the way for me to take her place,’ said Coinin grandly.
‘Won’t he need his keys then?’ Marrok joked.
‘No, Marrok, he won’t, he’s dead. He now resides in a new plane of existence and watches over us.’
‘Plane of what?’
‘It’s a kind of spiritual realm.’
‘Oh,’ Marrok replied, although he still didn’t understand.
Marrok looked at Coinin. There was something new about him. He seemed to have grown and matured in the past three days. He no longer appeared a boy, but a man with a heavy weight upon his shoulders.
‘Where do I fit into this?’ Marrok enquired.
‘A special duty befitting your talents has been chosen for you.’ Coinin smiled. ‘You are to become a general of the temple guard.’
‘And if I don’t choose this path?’
‘I’ve tried avoiding my destiny, it doesn’t work. Although I would have thought your promise to father to care for me would persuade you to take up this duty.’
Marrok looked away, angered that Coinin would use his promise to his dying father against him in this manner. It felt like emotional blackmail, and he did not like it. There were other considerations he had to think about. He had found the girl of his dreams and had set his heart on marrying her. How would she feel about him regularly travelling to one battle after another?
‘I don’t think I can do it. I have found a new love and want to settle down, and I just don’t have any love for your gods, if they even exist. If they do, they’ve only ever brought us misery and pain. Where were they when mother and father were murdered? Besides, it was only days ago you wanted to end this,’ said Marrok after deliberation.
Coinin ignored him; he had heard this argument before. ‘Do you remember I told you that if Death somehow managed to insert his name in the Scroll of Life, the lives of everyone on Er’ath would be at risk?’
‘Yes.’
Coinin frowned. ‘It seems there’s a little added complication. If he succeeds, he would be free to return to the heavens, which he is forbidden to do.’
‘That’s not so bad.’
‘It is if you consider what I’m about to tell you.’
‘I’m not going to like this, am I?’ Marrok asked.
‘Most likely not. It seems King Hantestum has broken an ancient decree from the gods and as a result, sacred swords belonging to Rindor have been all but forgotten, and it’s up to you and me to recover them.’
‘For what purpose?’
‘If we do not, then in just a few short years, our failure will give Death the opportunity to challenge Rindor for the right to rule, and I’d rather not have Death as High King of the heavens.’
‘That’s a fair point.’ Marrok nodded.
‘Our lives and that of the world are at great risk, and we have only a short amount of time in which to stop Death’s plans. We have a mere five years in which to recover the swords.’
‘What you say makes sense, though I still can’t get away from the fact I just don’t believe in these gods of yours,’ said Marrok quietly.
‘I’m not asking you to believe, I’m asking you to help me find the swords.’
Marrok sat heavily next to Coinin on the bed, a mixture of annoyance and disappointment on his face.
He sighed deeply. ‘Fine, I guess she’ll wait for me. I can see there’s still much to do, just as long as you know I’m doing this for you, and not some imaginary beings in the clouds.’ Marrok put an arm around Coinin and gave a squeeze.
‘Thank you, Marrok, I am grateful, though I don’t think I could do this without your strength,’ said Coinin, who looked like a young boy again.
‘Nonsense, you’re stronger than I, and you have one thing I don’t.’
‘What’s that?’
‘A big nose.’ Marrok laughed
.
The door to the balcony creaked open behind them, a shaft of sunlight cast their shadows across the wooden floor, and a moment later, a third joined theirs.
‘Such devotion,’ Draken sneered. ‘I have listened to your speech. When do you begin your training? I tire of this place.’
Marrok jumped up and faced the old man. ‘Then leave, Draken. You have proven to be worthless, pathetic as an ally even,’ he spat.
Draken moved forward and went to strike Marrok, but backed away almost immediately at a look from Coinin, and lowered his arm. If he made a wrong move now, he would lose them both, and perhaps a chance to use Coinin for his own ends.
‘I’m sorry, it’s just that I am an old man, I no longer possess the youth that you do, and I grow fearful of harm,’ Draken responded, to appease his nephew.
‘Well, we have many enemies, and more arriving by the day. If that’s something you do not care for, the door is that way.’
‘Leave him be, Marrok. He may no longer be the man he once was. He is our uncle, and deserves respect.’
Marrok took a long sideways glance at Coinin, shrugged his shoulders, and stormed out of the room.
Coinin shook his head. His uncle appeared distraught.
‘Don’t fret, Uncle. You know how Marrok is, he will simmer down eventually. But you don’t make things easy for yourself talking and acting the way you do towards him.’
Draken didn’t care for Marrok and secretly wished that he would leave. Coinin was the one who mattered, the strong one, and the one who would see him to his goal. It was a pity Marrok had not turned down Coinin in favour of the girl. That would have left Coinin free to manipulate in his own recovery for the Swords of Cerathil. No matter, Marrok could be dispatched quietly in the night, should he turn out to be troublesome.
‘Something troubles you, Uncle?’ Coinin asked, noting the distant stare in his eyes.
‘No, no, I am merely concerned that Marrok is not up to the challenge. How do you intend to obtain these swords?’ Draken probed.
‘I’m unsure, as I’ve little experience in these matters; I’ll have to rely on others for guidance.’ Coinin flushed.
‘I may not be the great warrior I once was, but I do know a thing or two about exploration. For example, your father and I once climbed the high Peak of Hudspith in order to retrieve the Archmage’s golden sandals. Orodor had toured the grounds, as was his daily custom, and left his sandals at the entrance to the prayer stone if you know where that is.’
Coinin shook his head.
‘A giant eagle had swooped into the compound, attracted by the glint of gold of the sandals, and promptly snatched them as he flew by. A guard of the watch had spotted this, and your father and I had the task of tracking the beast.’
Coinin laughed at the thought of the Archmage running about the grounds barefoot, shaking a fist at a swiftly disappearing eagle.
This spurred Draken to continue. He had gained the boy’s ear. ‘After we had climbed roughly halfway up the peak, out of nowhere, a dwarf popped his head out of a cave and tried to push us off with a spear. Your father saw red and promptly picked up the dwarf, stuffed him in his pack and carried him up the rest of the way. This thing was squealing like a pig the entire time, and your father eventually said to him that if he didn’t shut up, he would be fed to the eagle. He soon shut up.’ Draken paused for breath before continuing.
‘We eventually reached the top, and could not find the sandals anywhere. We fought off the eagle and had almost given up when the dwarf started yelling again and asked to be set free. Well, we had almost forgotten about him he’d been so quiet. Your father let him out, and would you believe, he was wearing the damned things. How we hadn’t spotted them sooner, I don’t know. I have never seen anything so funny in all my life, a full-bearded dwarf, looking like he had rolled in the mud, and a pair of golden sandals, shining away like the sun, tied with twine to his tiny feet.’
Draken paused and scratched his nose. ‘I asked him where he’d found them, and he said in his deep voice that they were hanging on a branch outside of his cave, and thought they looked pretty. Can you believe that a dwarf thinking something looked pretty? I asked him what he meant, and he said that he had been cast out from his village because he liked unusual and beautiful things. As strange as this was, we had a task to do, and that was retrieving the sandals.
‘After we demanded them, the dwarf said he would rather die before parting with them. It was then that your father simply reminded him that if they tied him up and left him in the eagle’s nest, he would quickly be lunch. That soon changed his mind, and he gave them up after that. We headed home the short way, and after telling the Archmage the tale, he never wore them again. Instead, he donated them to the dwarf for his inconvenience, such was Orodor’s kindness. Guess who had to take them back, too? So you see, for all my faults, I have certain skills such as tracking that could prove to be useful. I presume you will be inviting me along on your quest?’
Coinin was hysterical. He clutched his sides in pain, his laughter uncontrollable, and it was a few minutes before the giggles subsided.
‘I never heard my father tell tales about himself, always about others. I would like to hear more,’ Coinin remarked and wiped tears from his eyes.
‘Certainly, I would be only too happy to tell you more. Yet you fail to answer my question.’
‘Come with us? Oh yes, of course, I see there are some skills you possess that we may be able to use.’
Draken walked to the small window of the room and looked out, satisfied he had guaranteed his place at his nephew’s side.
A knock on the door brought any thought of further conversation to an end. Coinin answered the door and promptly received a salute from a young guard. As short as Coinin himself, she was dressed in fine red robes and a gold-inlaid breastplate, with the now familiar paw print of a wolf embossed into it. In her left hand, she held a ceremonial spear, and a sword sat sheathed at her side. She wore a metal full-face helmet. Her hair was auburn, judging by the look of the tuft that hung loosely from under her headgear. Her eyes shone a deep blue and had the eagerness of youth about them.
‘Curator Menin requires your company in the training compound,’ said the young guard with a slight bow.
‘Thank you. Can you take me there?’
‘I have been instructed to do so,’ the guard replied with a hint of pride.
Coinin turned to Draken. ‘I will see you later, Uncle.’
Draken did not reply and merely waved the boy away, his mind deep in thought as he peered through the open window. A self-satisfied smile lit his face.
‘Lead on, then.’ Coinin smiled at the guard. ‘I am Coinin, by the way, Coinin Wulf.’
‘I know who you are, Sir,’ the guard responded. ‘I am Aniol, Office of The Curator.’
‘It’s nice to meet you. Have you been with The Brotherhood long?’
Aniol looked oddly at Coinin, and then away. She was not used to being spoken to in such a manner or asked such questions by her superiors. She was more used to orders barked at her.
’I am quite new, maybe three months. Why do you ask?’
‘No reason, other than your armour appears a little oversized.’
Aniol laughed and then proceeded to turn a shade of beetroot. ‘Yes, they couldn’t find my size. They said I would need beefing up and would grow into it.’
‘You and I have the same problem.’ Coinin smiled and pulled at his baggy clothing in an attempt to take away her embarrassment.
Both laughed, and a new friendship was born.
❖
The wooden gates to the training compound were adorned with exquisite carvings of fighters who warred against mythical creatures, flying birds the type of which Coinin had never seen, and armies pitted against armies. The frame was strengthened with thick iron, and big studs every few inches.
As seemed to be the case anywhere important, two guards secured the entrance and stood stock still and unfli
nching. However, on this occasion, they crossed spears above Coinin to form an archway. They saluted with clenched fists across the chest, and the metal of their wristbands clashed with their breastplates.
Coinin looked at Aniol and pulled a face. ‘That hasn’t happened before.’
‘Word is getting around about you.’
‘Oh, I see, all good, I hope?’ Coinin raised his brow.
‘Now that would be telling.’
The pair stepped through the honour guard and into a long domed tunnel of red brick that passed under the extinct volcano. A pinprick of white light was visible at the other end, and regular torches lit the way.
‘Not far to go then,’ Coinin muttered sarcastically. ‘Why is nothing ever straightforward in this place?’
‘Where’s the fun in that?’ Aniol said, sounding like Menin, and sidestepped a puddle of water that had formed in the gravel underfoot.
At thirty feet intervals, the tunnel branched off, left or right, or held thick wooden doors set into its sides. Nevertheless Aniol continued to head to the dim and distant light.
‘Are you excited?’ Aniol asked.
‘To be truthful, I don’t know what I’m to expect, so if anything I feel nervous. It’s obvious you know the role that’s in store for me, and when it comes to Laliala Menin, those are big boots to fill.’
Aniol stopped short and looked at him in awe. ‘So it’s true, you really are to become the next Curator?’
‘That’s the plan, although I’m not looking forward to it, I can tell you.’
‘Hah! You’ll do well. Look at me, I’m to be your personal guard,’ said Aniol, open-armed.
Coinin burst into laughter. ‘You and I make a fine pair, but I’m happy you are here, a friend I share something with, even if it is that our clothes don’t fit. Come on, I’m eager to get this over and done with.’
‘After you, Sir.’ Aniol bowed and inwardly smiled at being called a friend.
‘Call me Coinin. I am no-one of importance.’
The Aduramis Chronicles: Volumes 1-3: The Definitive Collection Page 21