The Aduramis Chronicles: Volumes 1-3: The Definitive Collection

by Harrison Davies

  ‘There is your answer, Coinin.’ Laliala smiled.

  Coinin looked away, confused. His eyes flicked to the statue of Rindor. The plinth upon which the marble effigy rested held a small brass plaque, and engraved on its surface, a single word. His eyes widened, and he jumped from the platform to double-check the lettering. He ran his finger over each of the letters, tracing the outline. He had not misread, the one single word had not changed, yet it gave him the clue he needed. That word was Love.

  He turned to Menin, who was sat smiling at him broadly from the platform.

  ‘Worked it out, have you?’ she asked.

  ‘I think so. Rindor did not mean you should bring him a real heart, did he?’ Coinin asked, a look of hopeful desperation on his face.

  ‘Orodor was right, give him a little nudge, and he will go far. Yes, you are correct; Rindor did not mean a heart in that sense. Can you think what heart he was talking about?’ Menin asked.

  Coinin looked at her blankly and shrugged his shoulders before his eyes brightened once more. ‘The heart is love. I must show Marrok that Rindor loves him, that he will welcome him back, and that it is acceptable for him to love his god once more. I can’t believe I didn’t see it before.’ He slammed the flat of his palm to his forehead.

  Menin beamed at him and gave him a series of deliberate nods.

  ‘My only problem now is how to show Marrok the way back to Rindor.’

  ‘With that, I cannot help. Only you know your brother intimately. You must find a way into his heart. Now go, time is running short,’ said Menin, and dematerialised like a wisp of mist.

  Coinin blew out hard with relief, and his bottom lip quivered slightly.

  ‘Are you well, Sir?’ Aniol asked, taking up a position in front of him.

  ‘I’m feeling better than I was five minutes ago. I don’t have an idea how to win Marrok’s heart, however.’

  ‘Perhaps if you tell me about him, maybe I can spot something that you mightn’t.’

  ‘That’s an excellent idea.’ Coinin stared at the midday sun, his time was running short. ‘Perhaps if we walk and talk? Would you take me back to the temple, please?’

  Aniol nodded, reached for the spear she had propped against the platform, and led him back up the small hill in the direction of the temple, which could be seen in the distance beyond the maze, glittering gold.

  ‘What I find odd is, you know someone all your life, and then you’re asked to describe them or talk about their life, and your mind just goes completely blank.’

  ‘You’re entirely correct. I was asked to say a few words about my grandmother at her funeral, and for the life of me, I couldn’t find anything to say. In the end, my uncle had to help me.’

  ‘Maybe I need help. The only other person who knows Marrok well would be Draken. Perhaps he can shed some light on how his mind works,’ Coinin thought out loud. ‘Is there not a quicker way back to the temple?’ he added as an afterthought.

  ‘Unfortunately not.’

  ‘Let’s make haste then,’ said Coinin, and raced off up the hillside.

  THE GOD OF LOVE

  An hour later, Coinin and Aniol had finally reached the temple steps. Coinin was very red about the face, though Aniol appeared unaffected by the impromptu exercise.

  Coinin paused briefly to catch his breath, his hands resting on his knees as his chest inflated and deflated quickly with each breath.

  ‘Aniol, would you go and find my uncle for me?’ Coinin asked, between breaths.

  ‘Of course, I’ll return shortly.’ Aniol saluted and rushed away to find Draken.

  ‘I will be right here,’ Coinin called after her, and then sat down heavily, exhausted.

  Alone, he was free to think and consider his options. It had been expressed to him that he and Marrok were crucial to The Order and that they were deemed to be the best hope of finding the Swords of Cerathil. He prayed to Rindor that they were right.

  Coinin needed Marrok on side. Yes, he had the promise of help from his brother, though it seemed Rindor required more than promises; he needed devotion. Or was it more simply that anyone inducted into The Order was obliged to show faith in their god?

  He was not sure, but he was certain, minus Marrok’s aid, he would never recover the swords, and without his brother’s belief in the love of his god, he would fail in his task. That left a big question mark over the fate of the planet.

  ‘Coinin, my boy, what is so urgent that it requires my assistance?’ Draken asked as he stepped down the last few steps, followed closely by Aniol.

  ‘Ah, Uncle, thank you for coming so quickly. It seems we’re at a crossroads, and I need your help. It has become necessary to show Marrok that Rindor loves him, and I hoped you could assist me.’

  ‘I don’t know what makes you think that I can help in any way. Marrok and I have never really seen eye to eye.’

  ‘I know that. I need your help, so please think hard.’

  Draken shook his head. ‘I would really like to help you, but what do I know of the boy?’

  Coinin stepped away for a moment. He had endured two trials designed to truly test him, and he felt too tired to play games. Out of desperation, he lunged at Draken and took hold of his collar and thrust him against the low wall of the stairway. Draken almost bent in half and howled in pain.

  ‘Please, Coinin, you mustn’t,’ Aniol cried and attempted to prise him from the old man.

  Coinin shrugged her off and fixed a stare on Draken, his face mere inches from the man. He recoiled slightly at the stench of his uncle’s breath, and his nose wrinkled in disgust.

  ‘Now is not the time for your games, old man. I have endured years of your torments, and I have had enough. So tell me how to get Marrok on side, or consider this our goodbye.’ Coinin ground his teeth.

  Draken gulped, his eyes wide. He had had no idea his nephew was so strong, and he was sure Coinin meant the sentiment, there was no doubt about that, the contempt in his eyes said it all.

  ‘I’m not sure, I don’t know,’ he stammered.

  Coinin took a long, hard look into his uncle’s eyes. Perhaps the man was telling the truth. He reluctantly released him and stepped away.

  ‘Then perhaps you are as worthless as Marrok maintains. Maybe it is better if you leave this place,’ said Coinin sadly, and slumped to the ground, with his head in his hands.

  Draken appeared shaken, though not angry. He knelt in front of Coinin with a look of concern on his face.

  ‘I make no apologies for my behaviour over the years,’ Draken began. ‘What I did, I did for your benefit.’ He sighed and looked to the skies. ‘It was my attempt to try and make you into a man who could cope with all of life’s trials.’

  ‘Well, that really worked,’ said Coinin sarcastically. ‘I feel such a man. Rindor gave me a test which I cannot complete without help.’

  Draken panicked. He had never seen his nephew so down and withdrawn. His own confidence in Coinin helping him to locate the swords was waning. He had to think of some way to assist the boy.

  ‘Tell me more about this test,’ said Draken, with a nervous rub of the back of his neck.

  Coinin looked at him. ‘The statue of Rindor asked me to bring to it the heart of the one I loved most dear. I have since learnt that this means Marrok must worship Rindor as he once did, and show his love willingly.’

  Draken exhaled, and a deep frown wrinkled his brow. ‘That is by no means an easy task. He hasn’t followed the teachings for many years.’

  ‘He blames Rindor for the death of our parents.’

  ‘Why would he think that? It was the Madorine, was it not? At least that’s the story I gleaned,’ said Draken, and thought back to the day two tearful and shocked boys appeared magically in his home.

  ‘You and I know that, but Marrok is full of hatred. He is blinded by the belief that Rindor permitted mother and father to die. I know of course that it was part of Death’s plan.’

  ‘Then tell him that,’ Draken urged.


  ‘He knows this; he has lived too long without the love of the gods in his heart to listen to reason.’

  Draken paced back and forth and wracked his brains for a solution. It was a full five minutes before he faced Coinin with half an idea.

  ‘He mentioned a girl, in his chambers. Someone he had just met,’ Draken recalled.

  Coinin nodded and cocked his head, intrigued. ‘Yes, a new love he desires to marry.’

  ‘This may be our way in.’

  ‘How so?’

  ‘For Marrok to marry this girl, he must surrender himself to The Order, and worship the gods. He cannot marry her without devoting his life to them. If she is truly devout, then she will demand it.’

  ‘So what you are saying is, unless Marrok shows Rindor his pure heart, and devotes his life to the temple, then he cannot have his temple sweetheart.’

  ‘Exactly.’ Draken raised his brows in satisfaction.

  ‘Well, he’s not going to like that one little bit.’

  He turned to face the temple, its beauty lost on him for now. Frustration clouded his mind. He had an almost impossible task ahead of him, and time was of the essence. He needed to implant the idea into Marrok’s brain that he could not have his woman without devotion, and then watch the idea germinate, although he did not have near enough time for that.

  There was no other option, he had to be blunt and to the point. He had never told a lie to Marrok, and now more than ever he needed to be truthful and openly honest with his brother.

  He turned to Draken and Aniol. ‘Then I guess the decision is made. I must tell Marrok how it is to be.’ Coinin sighed. ‘Does anyone have an idea where he is?’

  ‘He’ll be with the woman of course,’ Draken said. ‘She’s new and exciting to him, so he will want to spend as much time with her as possible. It’s quite sickening really when you think about it.’

  ‘She’ll likely be assigned to the restoration workers. Last I heard they were rebuilding the rear of the temple,’ Aniol offered brightly.

  ‘Then let’s go, there’s no time to waste. Uncle, I thank you for your assistance, and I regret my earlier actions.’ Coinin bowed his head.

  Draken considered chastising the boy but thought better of it. It would have served no purpose other than to alienate him a little further. Instead, he grasped him firmly around the neck and smiled at him. ‘I can understand, my boy, the pressure you must be under, so we will say no more on the matter.’

  ‘Thank you for your gracious words, Uncle.’

  ‘If you will follow me, gentlemen, I’ll show you the way,’ Aniol said.

  She strode ahead of the duo and up the steps to the temple, then skirted the main entrance and led them along a covered walkway to the right of the building that was lined along its length with marble pillars. The sun was getting low in the sky and made them squint as it cast its light into the walkway.

  Aniol quickened her pace to a gentle jog, and Coinin and Draken followed suit, although the old man appeared quite unhappy at the sudden change of pace.

  In mere minutes, they had circumvented the temple and were confronted with a group of roughly one hundred workers gathered in the gardens. Many were busily sweeping up remnants of statues and other garden furniture into piles, while others sorted broken brickwork or wood, seeking items to reuse in the rebuilding project. Not far from the assembled mass, a wooden table had been set up, and an elderly man with a long flowing beard, though not as long as Orodor’s had been, peered at a long strip of paper that covered the table from end to end. He held in his hand a contraption that appeared to be a circular piece of glass. He looked up briefly, still holding the contraption, and gave Coinin a start. The old man’s eye was horribly enlarged.

  Draken laughed loudly. ‘That’s just old Prentis, the architect. He’s as blind as a bat. That thing he’s holding is a magnifying glass. It magnifies whatever he looks at. His eye isn’t that large.’

  ‘Thank heaven for that. I would have told him to go and seek a healer.’

  Draken and Aniol chortled in response and turned to look at the temple, following Coinin’s example.

  Coinin noted a gaping hole leading to the Great Hall. It was prominent in the rear of the temple wall, and what remained of a stained glass window lay in piles on the ground outside. A huge boulder had been manhandled to the side of the hole, evident by the deep scratch marks it had left on the marble stonework outside. He took a quick look inside to see a scene of utter devastation. A handful of pews remained intact, and a projectile had all but destroyed the glass roof. The wooden floor seemed to have caved in where the boulder had struck before coming to rest on the far side of the temple wall.

  ‘I had no idea the attack had been so devastating,’ said Coinin.

  ‘Well, you were unconscious for weeks, you couldn’t have known,’ Aniol reminded him.

  ‘True enough,’ Coinin replied absently and turned to scan the grounds. ‘We must find Marrok, and quickly. Please ask those people over there, and see if they have seen him,’ he said, pointing to a group of workers busily sorting debris.

  Draken and Aniol hurried away to speak to the workers, while Coinin stayed behind to attempt to locate Marrok with his mind.

  He sat cross-legged on the cold marble and focused his mind on his brother as he had done many times before. Quickly, he sank deep into a relaxed state. The sounds of the workers around him faded, and a warm energy began to build inside him.

  Like an explosion, the trail burst forth and snaked its way ahead of him. It hovered momentarily in mid-air and waited for him to join it, then flitted away, as if caught by a breeze. Coinin’s mind followed its path, and he noted each twist and turn. Colourful outlines of workers surrounded him, and the more muted colours of his surroundings gave off their light and defined shapes.

  Once free from obstacles in its path, the trail zoomed away at speed and wound its way through a grove of trees to finally rest outside of an old barn. It seemed the glowing trail was unable to penetrate the building.

  He brought himself slowly out from his trance-like state and blinked at the sun low in the sky. He looked about him for Draken and Aniol, and spotted them some distance away, talking animatedly to a group of workers. He uncrossed his legs and stood up, and took a moment to steady himself against a pillar, due to a slight dizziness that had overcome him.

  Recovered sufficiently, he stepped down from the covered walkway via a set of steps and onto the garden at the rear of the temple.

  He wound his way through people and objects until he was a few feet away from Draken and Aniol.

  ‘Uncle, Aniol, I have found him.’ Coinin waved.

  Aniol heard him first and smiled. ‘Which way?’

  ‘He’s inside a barn, and no doubt with the woman. At least I think it’s a barn, over that way somewhere.’ He pointed further through the garden.

  Aniol looked puzzled for a moment. ‘A barn? The only barn near here is used as a feed store for the horses. Why would they be there?’

  Draken coughed and raised a dark brow. ‘If you need an answer to that question, then you truly are wet behind the ears.’

  Aniol thought a moment before her mouth formed a circle of understanding, and her blushes accentuated her naivety.

  ‘Of course, you understand that our bargaining chip may just be null and void,’ Draken announced.

  ‘You mean if she has already succumbed to his charms outside of the faith, then it’s likely we may have lost her as our only weapon?’ Coinin frowned.

  ‘Exactly, although we could have this totally wrong, in which case we may still yet have a chance of convincing your brother of the right path,’ Draken responded.

  ‘Then let’s hope so, for all our sakes,’ Coinin prayed, and then quickly set off in the direction he had indicated, followed closely by his companions.

  The general hubbub of the workers subsided as they progressed further into the gardens, much to Coinin’s relief. He hated noise.

  Dot
ted here and there, finely trimmed trees of a dozen or more elegant designs offered their shade, and from these several varieties of fruit hung. They rounded an ornate marble fountain, crowned with the form of a proud and noble wolf. It bayed at a globe of marble that floated in mid-air and represented the moon. From its open mouth spouted a torrent of water.

  After a short while, they circumvented a series of hedgerows, and the neatly manicured lawns grew somewhat wilder, not unkempt, though not as keenly maintained by the head gardener. Coinin assumed the series of natural barriers they had passed marked the end of the visible gardens as viewed from the temple itself.

  In the distance, embedded in a cluster of pear trees, a small weatherworn barn sat and reflected the ever-waning sun. Outside, two horses, saddle-heavy, had been tethered to a ring set into the side of the barn doors. They placidly tore at the lush green grass under hoof and waited patiently.

  Coinin swept past the horses, patting the hindquarters of the closest reassuringly, and rapped on the barn door.

  ‘Marrok, I know you are in there, now open up,’ he demanded.

  Inside, there was a shuffling and rustling of straw before the barn door opened, and a dark haired, green eyed half-elf looked out.

  ‘Where is Marrok?’ Coinin asked, trying to spy his brother behind the female.

  ‘Who are you?’ she asked brusquely.

  ‘I am Coinin Wulf. Marrok is my brother.’

  ‘I am sorry, I am Talina Rend. Forgive my rudeness; I am in pain, you see.’ She bowed her head and then opened the barn door wider still.

  ‘In pain?’ Coinin asked. ‘Why?’

  ‘I stupidly fell from my mount and landed hard. I have twisted my ankle.’ The elf lifted her foot as evidence. ‘Marrok went to the river to fetch some water to take the swelling down. He helped me inside to rest while he did so.’ She winced and retreated into the barn, and then rested on a bale of hay. She raised her foot and placed it gingerly on a nearby straw bale. The swelling to her ankle was evident and glowed with a nasty shade of blue, tinted with a sickly green.

  ‘That looks nasty,’ said Aniol. ‘Perhaps I should take a look at it for you.’