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

by Harrison Davies

They took into account the votes of the temple congregations in their cities and townships. One by one a brother here and a sister there sat and showed their approval. A minute later all votes had been cast. To Coinin’s delight, not one soul remained standing. Such respect this woman must command.

  Laliala Menin allowed herself just a moment of indulgent satisfaction. ‘Thank you, my friends. Know this, that I will continue the great works of Orodor, and ensure that this order will once again thrive as it once did. We will begin the initiation ceremony in one hour. May the gods bless us all.’

  ❖

  Aniol herded Coinin back to his chambers the moment breakfast had finished. He had been instructed to bathe thoroughly, shave and ensure that he was pure for the ceremony that would anoint him as Curator.

  Upon arrival at his chambers, a copper bath had been set up, and steaming water fogged his little window. Aniol remained outside while he stripped, and for the first time in his life, he submerged himself in a bath of hot water. He was so used to cold washes by the river that this new sensation relaxed him to the point that he nodded off.

  It was twenty minutes later that he was awoken by Aniol banging on his door. ‘Coinin, Sir. We shall be late. What are you doing?’

  Coinin awoke, momentarily confused. He sat up quickly and water spilt onto the floor. He noted how cold the water had become and shivered as he quickly exited the bath, and then slipped on the wet floor. He dried himself as fast as he could, and then donned his outfit once more, before breathlessly opening the door. He stood there with a wide grin on his face. ‘Sorry, I fell asleep.’

  Aniol looked at him, dismayed, and said nothing as she smoothed his garments for the second time that day. ‘Well, I suppose it’ll have to do, but we are going to have to run.’

  Coinin sighed.

  Aniol ignored him and sped off towards the main stairwell with Coinin trying his best to keep up with her. He eventually caught up and huffed and puffed as he jogged alongside her. She took the steps three at a time to the disapproving looks of those ascending the stairs, especially when they had to sidestep to avoid her.

  She raced into the bright morning sunlight and headed down the main stairwell, and then took a sharp left. Skirting the small training arena, she continued on for a hundred yards before diving into a walled garden. Rushing past row after row of roses, she breathed in their scent. After checking Coinin was behind her, she stopped at the bottom of the garden where a fast-flowing river ran. She stepped onto a wooden deck where a small boat had been tethered. It gently bobbed in the water and strained the rope holding it fast to the deck. Coinin stopped short of the edge, took a look at the boat and sighed. Last time he had taken a boat ride, it was not a very pleasant experience.

  ‘Please tell me we aren’t going on another boat ride,’ Coinin asked, attempting to catch his breath.

  ‘It’s a short one, no magic or sudden drops if that’s what you mean?’

  ‘Well, that’s good at least. Where are we going anyway?’ Coinin stepped into the boat and then sat down on a rather damp seat. He turned his nose up at the wetness that seeped through his leggings.

  Aniol also stepped into the boat and undid the rope that held it fast. ‘We are heading to the Hall of Oaths, and this is the only way for an initiate to get to it.’ She reached for each oar in turn and secured them in the boat’s oar locks at the midline. She then pushed off and pulled stroke after stroke.

  The going was easy thanks to the flow of the river. Coinin marvelled at how large the volcano must be, considering the distance they were covering, and how diverse the land inside had become. He would never have guessed a dormant volcano could hold such diversity of life, and he knew then why the volcano was chosen as an ideal place to hide. Who would want to explore what normally would be a desolate, lifeless environment? For Soliath Wulf, the location had been the perfect choice for him. He enjoyed using his magic to create. He could experiment and mould the landscape to his liking. If the volcano were to wake, all would be gone in the blink of an eye. Soliath had faith in his God that this land was sacred, that he was free to build in this place, and his fellow worshippers would reside here for eternity.

  Coinin was brought back to the present by a piercing whistle from Aniol.

  ‘We have arrived,’ she said brightly.

  Indeed they had arrived, and Coinin was awestruck. Here before him was yet another testament to what great architects The Brotherhood were.

  A high-domed building made from white marble glared in the morning sun. It reminded him of his mother’s bread oven she used in the village of Arrom, just far grander and on a massive scale. Running the circumference, an iron walkway held members of The Order, who began to clap upon seeing Coinin. Above them ran small windows several feet apart, and at the bottom of the dome, what appeared to be the only entrance loomed.

  An archway made from marble bricks the size of a man spanned the river, and they were heading straight into it. It was a short tunnel leading directly inside the dome. For a brief moment, the sunlight faded to gloom, and then returned through windows high in the building that cast shafts of light and intersected at a single point on an elevated platform at the centre of the expanse. The river bisected the dome and exited swiftly through a second tunnel opposite them. The boat drifted smoothly into the space, and just at the right moment, Aniol threw a rope to a waiting guard, who secured the line to a mooring post set into a marble platform at river level. She then stepped from the boat lithely and offered her hand to Coinin to join her on the walkway.

  Coinin hopped out of the vessel and was immediately filled with a sense of wonder. Above him on several levels were parapets that ran full circle around the dome, spiralling from top to bottom, each filled to capacity with onlookers, and all wearing a similar outfit to his own. Behind them, Coinin could see row upon row of shelves stacked with books. Was this yet another library? Around the circumference of the dome, the constellations of Rinoch’s Belt had been etched into the very wall, the stars themselves represented by large cut diamonds that glinted in the ever-changing light, Coinin thought, very much like the real night sky. He also noted exquisite representations of the planets Er’ath, Rol’as and Tal, and puzzled at the existence of two unknown globes that had been carved opposite the triplets. He made a mental note to ask about the mysterious pair when he next had a moment.

  Laliala Menin looked dazzling in white as she marched up to him, all smiles. ‘Welcome, Coinin, to the Hall of Oaths. I’m afraid we are in for a very long day today. I trust your breakfast was sufficient?’

  ‘It was perfect, thank you,’ Coinin replied, wondering how long a day it was going to be exactly.

  The musical note of a horn sounded, which reverberated around the dome. The hall quieted almost immediately. Upon the raised platform, the Chief Scribe Polinus, whom he had met at breakfast, held up his right hand, while the other held a large, leather-bound volume. There was writing on it in gold leaf, except from this distance, Coinin could not read it.

  ‘Assembled brothers and sisters. As Chief Scribe, it falls to me to perform a most sacred duty. One that has been the honour of the Chief Scribe for countless generations.’ The wizened old man coughed slightly. He had twinkling eyes and pinz nez on a chain. ‘I hold in my hand the Codex of Oaths, from which today’s readings will be taken.’ He held the large tome aloft, and Coinin visibly sagged.

  ‘He’s going to read that whole thing?’ he whispered to Laliala Menin.

  Menin chuckled. ‘Almost, and yes it’s lengthy, so we should take our seats,’ she whispered from the corner of her mouth and guided him to a seat upon a high plinth opposite the central platform.

  Coinin sat and tried to concentrate as the scribe droned on and on ceaselessly. He was starting to get thirsty and thought it rude to ask for water, so he crossed his arms and pretended to listen. Twenty minutes later he felt a nudge, and he woke quickly to hear the scribe still prattling on.

  ‘You were snoring,’ Menin whispered. ‘Pl
ease wake me if I do the same.’ She smirked, her eyes shining.

  ‘Isn’t this important?’ Coinin wondered.

  ‘The important bit is this evening. Right now, let him waffle on, he’ll be at it for hours droning on about the history of The Brotherhood,’ Menin whispered.

  Coinin almost snorted with laughter. For such a significant person, Laliala had a wonderful sense of humour. He knew, of course, she was just putting him at ease, and she did, in fact, take the proceedings very seriously.

  ‘Let’s make a pact. I’ll take the first watch if you want to have a snooze. I expect the same in return.’

  Coinin smiled at her. ‘Thanks, I’m fine for now. Why don’t you have a snooze?’

  ‘Well, I am partial to a mid-morning nap, so don’t mind if I do.’ Menin pulled the hood of her cloak over her head and closed her eyes, her secret hidden to all but Coinin.

  ❖

  Several naps later, Coinin was becoming restless and hungry. The sun had made its way across the sky, and it was getting dark rapidly.

  ‘Is he ever going to stop?’ Coinin asked in a hushed tone.

  Menin took a moment to listen. ‘He’s nearly finished. How he’s kept going this long without a break, I don’t know. I recommend we keep alert; he may call on us at any moment. It is many years since I sat through this, and I’m not exactly sure at which point he will stop.’

  Coinin sat upright and stretched his legs, trying to wake them up in a desperate attempt to relieve the pins and needles he had endured for the last thirty minutes.

  ‘—within our midst at the closing of the battle the descendants did smite the evil with the sword of ages, and the demon was vanquished. Rindor, the most wise and powerful Lord of the skies, did spare Er’ath and granted the gift of life to them as a reward. Thus concludes the history and prophecy of The Brotherhood of The Wulf.’ Chief Scribe Polinus concluded his sermon and shut his book with a clap. The noise reverberated around the room, stirring many from their slumber.

  The dome seemed to ooze relief, and Coinin sensed a collective sigh. He looked about him to see others standing and stretching, and then sitting down, while others rubbed sore buttocks and nudged neighbours who had not woken.

  ‘I now call upon our new initiate to join me on the platform. Coinin Wulf,’ Polinus announced loudly.

  The room visibly stiffened, taking a great deal of notice now. Coinin felt every set of eyes focused on him and he turned bright red.

  ‘Off you go, my boy, head on up to the platform,’ Menin prompted with a nod.

  Coinin rose stiffly and limped to an iron circular stairwell that wound its way up to the dais, high above the river that ran through the dome. He started to climb and wished that his legs would wake up; every step was like standing on shards of glass with the pins and needles failing to subside. Several tiring minutes later, after his excruciating climb, he stood on the small podium in full view of everyone present and felt suddenly very small.

  Polinus did not look amused that it had taken him as long as it had to reach the platform, evidenced by the glare he gave over the top of his eyeglasses. ‘You took your time,’ he said grumpily.

  Coinin looked apologetic and preferred not to look down. He was at a great height, and he and heights did not see eye to eye.

  ‘Coinin Wulf, a descendant of Soliath Wulf, it is the decree of Archmage Orodor that you succeed Laliala Menin as Curator of the Great Library and protector of our faith. Do you accept this honour wholeheartedly and of your own free will?’ Polinus questioned.

  Coinin was not ready for the question and opened and closed his mouth like a fish out of water.

  Polinus frowned and leant in close. ‘If you agree, then say I do,’ Polinus prompted.

  Coinin recovered and said softly, ‘I do.’

  ‘Louder,’ Polinus requested. ‘They need to hear you.’

  ‘I do,’ Coinin called loudly.

  A murmur of delight circled the dome, and he saw many faces smiling and nodding, or commenting to one another.

  ‘Son of Soliath, do you swear to uphold the laws of the temple, to guard the most cherished library, and guide our family in the ways of Rindor as passed down from the mighty creator himself?’ Polinus nodded he should answer.

  Coinin cleared his throat. ‘I swear it.’ He was beginning to feel he belonged and his confidence grew.

  ‘Do you agree to undergo the Ritual of The Wulf, and accept upon your person the mark of devotion?’

  Coinin was suddenly worried. What did he mean by the mark of devotion? Were they going to hurt him in some way?

  Polinus sensed his unease and leant in close once more. ‘Don’t worry, boy, it’s quite painless.’

  Coinin was not reassured in the slightest, yet he had come too far to back out now. Psyching himself to answer, he spoke loudly. ‘I agree.’

  A small ripple of applause circled the dome. The attendees were becoming excited. It had been many years since the Ritual of The Wulf had been seen, and the outcome varied from initiate to initiate. Polinus did not appear to approve and glared at those daring to disturb him mid flow. The crowd hushed almost immediately, admonished by the elderly gentleman.

  Polinus reached into his long cloak and extracted a small, thin scroll. Finely decorated gold rollers held the yellowing parchment in place. He handed this to Coinin, who took it, puzzled.

  ‘Inside this scroll is the Oath of Office. You must recite the words transcribed therein, and the scroll will seal itself if you are of pure intentions. If your heart is not true, the scroll will not seal itself, and you will be cast out of The Brotherhood forthwith. This will act as your badge of office, your official right to bear the title Curator. When you are ready, you may begin,’ Polinus urged.

  Coinin looked at the scroll with dread. He had not expected to read in front of people, and he silently thanked Rindor that Draken had kept up his studies and encouraged him to read during the years he had spent with him.

  He broke a delicate, ornate wax seal that bore the symbol of The Order of The Wulf and the Office of The Curator together. The free edge of the scroll flapped free which he then took and unfurled. Written exquisitely by hand in bright blue ink and surrounded by gold leaf motifs the oath said, ‘Oath and Allegiance for The Office of The Curator’. He looked up and around him, gulped nervously and began reading.

  ‘The Oath and Allegiance for The Office of The Curator. I, Coinin Wulf, do solemnly and with a sound mind, submit to the authority of our Lord Rindor and of the Archmage, and take the Office of The Curator willingly and without duress.’ Coinin paused briefly, drinking in the silence as everyone listened quietly and expectantly. ‘I will enforce the laws and precepts handed down by our Lord Rindor, and maintain order throughout the lands of Er’ath. I will ensure the safety and security of the Archmage, the Golden Temple, and outlying temples in other lands. I will protect and hold secure the Great Library and its scribes. I will maintain a garrison of elite battlemages who will come to the King of Rosthagaar’s aid in times of need and secure the Sanctuary in times of distress. Above all, I will ensure through my actions and those under my charge that the Office of Curator is held without reproach. Finally, I pledge my undying allegiance to our Lord Rindor, the Archmage and The Brotherhood of The Wulf, till my last breath.’

  The second he finished the oath, the scroll left his hands and hovered in mid-air. Before his eyes, a new seal made from a thin metal band of gold slithered from a slit in the edge of one of the rollers and began to wind itself around the scroll, sealing it from view. Once completed, it radiated heat and light that bonded the gold rollers to the golden band, encasing the scroll in an airtight container. Completed, the manuscript fell into his hands once more, and the dome erupted in cheers and clapping.

  Chief Scribe Polinus took the scroll from Coinin and buried it deep inside his robes. ‘Coinin Wulf has taken the Oath of Office, yet there is still the Ritual of The Wulf to perform.’ He paused for a moment and looked into the night sky throu
gh the circular cut-out at the summit of the dome. He nodded to himself, satisfied, and turned to the audience. ‘Brothers and sisters, the hour is upon us and the Ritual of The Wulf must take place. For all those who have not witnessed or partaken of this most sacred rite, I will explain the process. In a moment I will ask you all to please join hands, and we will begin chanting the sacred rite. This, combined with the forces trapped within the moon, will infuse the might and the power of the wolf within our initiate. The combined knowledge and experience of countless Curators stored in this vast library will then be absorbed by our new Curator.’

  Coinin was both mystified and apprehensive about the events yet to transpire. Polinus had said it would not hurt; he just did not believe him.

  Polinus looked again at the moon, now peeking into the dome. ‘The time has come. Please close your eyes, hold hands and repeat after me. Tomik’cluh Tu’lock Forahets’l, Tomik’cluh Tu’lock Forahets’l,’ he chanted.

  On cue, the assembled Brotherhood began to chant. The effect was electrifying and sent a shiver down Coinin’s back. Polinus, his job complete, retreated down the steps of the platform leaving Coinin alone to witness the grand spectacle before him.

  A crack like thunder, then a second, and a third bounced off the walls of the dome and rang his ears. Coinin spun on the spot trying to place the source and there it was, the constellations embedded in the walls had begun to glow an effervescent blue. A fourth crack and a new constellation came to life until all the constellations began to glow a pulsating blue.

  Coinin looked down at his feet as moonlight from the cut-out at the top of the dome crept along his boot and then bathed his leg until finally his entire being was caught in a great shaft of light. He felt oddly lightheaded, and without warning, he was whisked into the air, and still the chanting continued, growing to a fever pitch. Round and round the words beat faster and faster and all the while Coinin began to feel a pulse of energy building within him.