Aniol looked conflicted. ‘Protocol forbids it for junior ranks.’
‘Who makes these protocols?’
‘I believe it is the Office of The Curator.’
‘Then you should call me Coinin in private until I can change that silly rule,’ Coinin announced. ‘Follow me.’
Aniol smiled in admiration. She liked this strange young man. He might look out of place, a bit young, and an odd choice for Curator, though she had a good feeling about him.
‘Hey, wait for me,’ Aniol called and jogged after him.
‘Some guard you are.’
‘I’m new, give me a chance.’
It took twenty minutes to walk the length of the tunnel, and Coinin was thirsty after the long hike. He was relieved to find a drinking fountain set into the side of the tunnel a few feet from the exit. He drank thirstily from the fresh, clear water, and felt almost immediately revived. He gave Aniol time to do the same and then exited the tunnel.
He felt annoyance that there was not a training area in sight, just a dense green hedgerow far too high for him to see over, and far too broad to bypass. Directly opposite was a door-shaped gap in the hedge. With no other physical means to continue, he marched forward, followed by Aniol.
Once inside the hedgerow, it yielded no clues as to where he was. Opposite was a second wall of the hedge, and now he had a choice, left or right down a small corridor of foliage.
Coinin shook his head, perplexed, and looked at Aniol for guidance.
‘It’s a maze.’
‘A what?’
‘It’s a kind of game; there are many twists and turns, but only one way out. The idea is to find a way out as quickly as you can.’
‘Fine then, you know this game, lead the way.’
‘I’m afraid I must follow you, this is your test, not mine.’ Aniol shook her head, then immediately realised her mistake and visibly bit her lip.
‘Oh, so it is a test. For what exactly?’
Aniol looked guilty. ‘I shouldn’t have told you that. Don’t tell anyone I let it slip.’ she pleaded.
‘You worry too much, I shan’t tell. Please, tell me the reason. Why are we here?’
Aniol smiled gratefully. ‘Beats me. I think every initiate of importance, accepted into The Brotherhood has to complete it. Something about knowing your limits and knowing your choices affect the outcome, and I do believe it’s different for everyone who undergoes it. My test didn’t include this section.’
‘Why? You are just as important as I.’
Aniol blushed brightly at this, bewildered by this strange boy.
Coinin looked first left, then right, and chose the latter. He traipsed off, and let his hand run along the soft leafy sides of the corridor. After a few moments, he was forced to take a left, at which point he checked Aniol was still behind him and forged on. Turn after turn, choice after choice, the maze wound on, and Coinin had become irritated.
He rounded one last corner, and to his relief, the corridor widened to form a large arena. He ventured deeper, and behind him, without warning, an iron gate slammed shut against a frame inset into the hedge. He whirled around and noticed Aniol had vanished. He quickly turned back into the open space just in time to see a second iron gate shut on the far side of the arena.
He felt trapped, and his heart began to pound. Was this a trick all along to make him drop his guard? Was he about to die a gruesome death for someone’s twisted idea of entertainment? These thoughts and more flew through his mind, and all the time he turned in slow circles in expectation of the worst.
For what seemed to be an age nothing happened, and then two holes, roughly three feet in diameter, appeared on the ground like the earth had just given way to an earthquake. The holes were approximately sixty feet in front of him, and forty feet apart. The ground shook with a low rumble that travelled up his legs, and after a few moments, something began to emerge from each of the holes. It took a moment for Coinin to make sense of the sight before him.
Rising from the earth on columns of marble were his brother Marrok and his new friend Aniol. Both were bound and gagged and were in danger of falling at any moment into fiery pits that had opened before the columns. Coinin rushed forward and found his way blocked. From nowhere, two men in black with large swords barred his way.
A deafening voice reverberated the air and broke the silence in the arena.
‘Coinin Wulf, a choice is set before you. On the one hand your brother, and the other, no one of importance to you. Both are in mortal danger, and the choice is clear. Choose to save your brother and the other dies. Save the other, and your brother shall perish. You have one minute in which to make a decision.’
Coinin glanced from Marrok to Aniol in desperation. He could not believe these people were asking him to choose to save the life of only one of them. Had he been right all along, were these people monsters?
He forced himself to think clearly and focus on the task at hand. Was there a way he could rescue both? That hope was dashed the moment it surfaced. One of the men in black hoods grunted and poked him with the point of a sword. This he took as a sign that he should hurry to make a decision.
He brought his hands to the sides of his head and grabbed at fistfuls of hair, and almost tore clumps of it from his scalp. He thought about his life with Marrok, the good times and the bad. He was the only remnant of his family left, save for Draken, and he knew he would be lost without his sibling. Did the life of a stranger compare to that? Suddenly, like a bolt out of the blue, something Aniol said thirty minutes ago about this being a test sparked a new hope in him.
Of course, why hadn’t he realised it before? They were testing him. This was a question, so what was the answer?
If he chose his brother, would that show selfishness, or would it show loyalty to family? If he chose Aniol, would that show compassion for his comrade or disloyalty to his brother? The real question was what did they seek in a Curator. Before he had time to come to a conclusion, a gong sounded in the distance, and he knew time had run out.
‘Son of Soliath. Speak your answer,’ the faceless voice boomed.
Coinin took a deep breath and one final look at each of the captives, his only thought that they would not kill Marrok, they needed him too much. ‘I choose to save Aniol.’ He closed his eyes, and half expected to reopen them to find his brother burning horribly in a fiery pit.
With puffs of smoke, Marrok and Aniol disappeared, the columns retracted and the pits resealed to become grass once more. The hooded figures vanished with a pop. The gates to the arena withdrew, and from behind him, Aniol emerged into the open space all smiles.
‘There you are, I lost you for a moment. Try not to wander off like that,’ Aniol pleaded.
Coinin ignored her. Aniol appeared unaware of the incident that had just occurred, and this served to prove it had all been a test. His relief was palpable when his legs buckled, and he collapsed on the ground.
Aniol rushed to his aid. ‘Sir? Coinin, what ails you?’
‘It’s nothing, I’m fine. I guess I’m a little hungry, that’s all,’ Coinin replied, perhaps a little too gruffly in his haste to hide that he had been shaken.
Aniol did not seem to notice Coinin’s gruffness or had simply chosen to ignore it. She nodded and drew a slab of cured meat and a small crust of bread from a leather pouch.
‘Here, my ration should serve you well,’ said Aniol, and offered the food.
Coinin did not feel the slightest bit hungry, yet felt he needed to keep up the appearance that he was strong. People were relying on him to be a leader, yet the belief that he was weak and just a fisherman’s son gnawed at him like a stray dog over a mouldy old bone.
He took the food and nibbled at it, and then gave Aniol his best smile, though inside he felt tremendously ill.
‘When you are ready, we should get moving, there is much yet to do,’ Aniol said.
Coinin glanced at her and offered a weak nod. ‘I suppose you are correct. Lead on.�
�
Coinin, as if weighed down by a heavy object, heaved himself up from the floor and followed Aniol to the exit of the arena.
Aniol had begun to whistle a merry tune, unaware that moments ago, Coinin had chosen to spare her life and sacrifice Marrok’s.
Although only a test, Coinin still felt sick to the stomach at his final decision and vowed never to reveal his actions to his brother.
Aniol led him through an iron gateway at the far end of the arena, and into a wooded area.
In front of them, a small stream cheerily wound its way over smooth rocks, and ahead was a curved wooden bridge with handrails that spanned the stream. Aniol silenced her whistle and turned to face Coinin, a frown upon her brow.
‘Now this one’s tricky, I remember that. After you.’ Aniol gestured.
‘Thank you.’
He stepped forward and did the first thing anyone in his situation would do. He grabbed the handrail of the small bridge and stepped on to it. In a few short steps, he had crossed the bridge, only something not quite right had happened. Instead of reaching the other side, he had become turned around and was now back where he had started. He gave Aniol a bemused look, turned around and repeated his actions, to yet again find he was faced in completely the wrong direction.
He bit his lip in frustration. What had he missed? What little clue eluded him that indicated what his next action should be? He thought about it carefully, and many minutes passed before he had exhausted all ideas. Even his aborted attempt to wade the stream had failed in the same way as the bridge and merely served to soak his boots.
‘Fine, I give up. I need your help.’
Aniol smiled. ‘I’d be glad to help,’ she said cheerfully.
Coinin shrugged his shoulders and raised his hands. ‘How do I cross the bridge?’
‘That’s the problem, you are trying to get across the bridge.’
Coinin cocked his head with a frown, and then the answer hit him like a bolt out of the blue.
‘I’m not supposed to cross the bridge alone, am I? Will you help me?’
Aniol smiled. ‘You asked me for help, and that’s the key. The only way across is if I carry thee.’
Coinin rolled his eyes. ‘Very poetic.’
‘Yes, it was. Now, we waste time, let me help you up onto my back.’ Aniol turned her back to Coinin, who cursed to himself at how unseemly this would appear to anyone watching and clambered reluctantly onto her. He wrapped his arms around the young woman’s shoulders and prayed he would not hurt her.
Aniol huffed her way across the bridge and quickly dropped him on the far side.
‘You are heavier than you appear.’ Aniol blew hard.
‘Sorry,’ said Coinin with a sheepish grin. ‘What exactly was all that about?’
‘No idea. I was just instructed to assist you across if asked for help.’
‘Thank you for doing so, I think I would’ve gone mad trying to work it out.’
‘I too. I was there three hours before I caved in.’ Aniol laughed. ‘Stubborn to the last, my grandmother always said.’
Aniol, ever on the move, began to walk slowly up an incline and followed a well-worn pathway cut into the neatly trimmed grass. Coinin had little choice but to follow his companion.
‘Where are we going now?’ he asked as he trotted to keep up with her.
‘Your final test,’ she replied, and worriedly looked about her to make sure she had not been overheard.
Coinin merely nodded and tried to think positive thoughts as he followed his young guard through a small grove of trees, huddled together on the top of the crest of a hill. As they exited the other side, he was overwhelmed. There in front of him were three gigantic marble statues, at least ten times as tall as an average man. The sun reflected brightly from the structures and gave off slightly different hues of colour thanks to the unique properties of each. The unnatural glare made him squint, so he turned to face Aniol instead.
‘Who are they?’
Aniol looked at Coinin curiously. ‘They’re the Gods Rindor and Maresh, and there is the Goddess Taminoth.’ She pointed to the leftmost statue. ‘How do you not know this?’
Coinin, of course, knew of the gods and was taught to worship each religiously. However, he had never seen their visage quite like this, until now, and certainly not since he was seven years old.
‘I grew up in a small village. The only comparison I have would be three roughly carved busts, and these great hunks of stone would have seemed out of place in the village square,’ he said.
‘I grew up in Rostha, the capital city. There are many statues like this there, though not as grand.’
‘Perhaps one day I shall visit this place and see for myself,’
Aniol smiled. ‘That would be wonderful; you’d be most welcome at my home.’
Coinin was astounded; here was this girl he had just met, offering him a place to stay should he visit Rostha. He could not help but think there was an ulterior motive behind it.
The answer, of course, was that he was part of a Brotherhood, a global community of like-minded individuals who really cared about their fellow creation, and their brethren even more so. He suddenly realised that fact, and it left him with a warm inner glow and a feeling of belonging.
‘Come on, this way,’ said Aniol, and trotted down the hillside towards the statues at its base.
Coinin reluctantly followed. ‘What’s going to happen now?’
‘I have no idea, each task is different.’
Coinin did not like the sound of that one little bit and wondered if he should just turn around and forget the whole thing. Then he remembered the trials he had just come through. His quitting would serve no purpose other than to show he was unworthy, and he was not ready to admit that just yet. Despite his inner doubts, he could be as stubborn as a mule.
Aniol led him to a raised platform, carved in marble, that stood a few feet in front of the three statues of the gods. Coinin had to crane his neck to see the tops of the figures, and this accentuated a stiffness there that he had felt for a while. With a grunt, he gently massaged the back of his neck, his fingers kneading the painful muscle fibres and loosening the knots. He observed that Rindor held aloft a marble sword similar in design to that of Trenobin’s, only larger, and wondered if this was the fifth sword Orodor had mentioned.
A low rumble ahead stopped him mid-knead. With wide eyes, he looked up at the central statue. Its head had moved and was looking down at him.
He froze with fright as the marble stonework spoke in a deep tone.
He looked to see what Aniol was doing, and found her to be prostrated on the ground and so he quickly followed suit, forgetting entirely about his sore neck.
‘Coinin Wulf. Do you know who I am?’ the middle, and by far the largest, statue asked.
‘You are a statue depicting the High King of the gods, Rindor,’ Coinin replied.
‘You are one of only a handful that has correctly identified this. Often they forget I am a representation and not Rindor himself. Yet you bow before me, and that shows your true heart.’ The statue paused a moment for these words to sink in. ‘You are even now wondering what lies ahead, what test I have for you. Rest easy, boy, for my task is simple. Return to me this day with the heart of the one you love most dear.’
Coinin raised his head, puzzled. ‘You want me to kill someone I love, and bring their heart to you?’
The statue remained silent, unmoving, staring unseeingly into the distance.
‘But that is abhorrent, I shall not do that. I will not!’ Coinin shouted at the statue and jumped to his feet, furious that he should be asked to perform such a despicable deed. Had he not suffered enough with the death of his mother and father?
Still, the statue remained the same silent, cold, and immobile marble. Coinin looked from it to Aniol and back again, lost.
‘Aniol, what do I do? I cannot murder my brother,’ he cried, his voice breaking.
‘You are thinking too liter
ally, Coinin,’ said a voice behind him.
Coinin flicked his head to the source and saw no one. ‘Who is there?’ he asked, suddenly frightened.
‘Forgotten your friend so soon?’ Laliala Menin chuckled and then materialised in front of him.
‘Of course not, Laliala,’ Coinin replied, looking ready to burst into tears. He hung his head until she stepped up to him and put a comforting arm around him.
‘What troubles you?’ she asked warmly.
Coinin sat on the edge of the marble platform and his legs dangled off the edge.
‘I am confused. I thought Rindor was a just and merciful God, and yet, since coming here, I have heard things that quite frankly disturb me. Now, Rindor wants me to kill my brother and offer up his heart.’ Coinin stumbled over his words and retched at the thought.
‘Are you sure?’ said Menin softly.
‘How sure do you want me to be?’ Coinin snapped. ‘‘Return to me this day with the heart of the one you love most dear.’ I don’t think it gets any clearer than that.’
Laliala Menin sat next to Coinin, took his hand, and looked at him intently. ‘Do you know what all these tests were for?’ she asked.
Coinin frowned for a moment. ‘I assume they are initiation tests,’ he replied, without looking at her, instead preferring to focus on his feet.
Laliala took a finger and gently lifted Coinin’s chin so that his eyes met hers. Her brow furrowed. ‘No, they are designed to get the measure of the man. What I can tell you is that so far you have passed each test admirably, and have shown your true colours. Despite a little help.’ Menin cast a meaningful glance at Aniol, who turned a bright red and looked away hurriedly.
‘That’s all well and good, but no matter how much I love Rindor, I will not kill Marrok,’ said Coinin flatly.
‘Then you have already passed this test. However, it still must be completed. Can you not think why Rindor should require your brother’s, heart?’
Coinin threw his hands in the air in frustration. ‘I don’t know. Marrok has never forgiven Rindor for the deaths of our parents. He has not believed in him since that day, and he certainly doesn’t love him.’
The Aduramis Chronicles: Volumes 1-3: The Definitive Collection Page 22