Although Celóndas was Romarus’s elder by more than twenty-five years, the boy king would jest with her about how she should become his wife. Londenia found the relationship the two had together, innocent and genuine.
Celóndas sang out to the entire party with a smile on her face, “Remember there are tribes in this forest. The ones in these parts are generally friendly but struggle with the Known Tongue. If we come across them, show them your empty hands as a gesture of peace. Do not smile until they smile at you first. Let’s go.” Her cheerful energy was that of a tal taking her learners on an expedition.
There was a clear path winding its way through the giant trunks. The trees were widely spaced, giving Hal’s Forest an open feel, with little other vegetation. The sheer size of the tree canopies roofed the landscape. The only sunlight reaching the floor was a dim blue, filtered by the wide cyan hackle leaves. Distant squawks broke the silence of the forest as the party slowly snaked in between the trunks.
King Romarus looked up at the leaves and brushed his hand over every silvery buttress-route and trunk he passed. Londenia realized this must have been the first time the boy had ever seen a tree, or anything other than sand for that matter. Looking equally as stunned and out of place, were their dunebacks. All were without their riders and being led through the forest. Their constant chewing picked up a nervous pace. She gave the one she had by the reigns, a scratch behind the ear to calm it, and received a thankful deep mortal-like groan in return.
Darkness gained on them gradually as the light began to fade. Londenia’s eyes grew used to the gloom. The hugging white cottons she wore warmed her legs but her bare arms began to prickle. She was very conscious that her nipples had become visible through her thin white bodysuit so she pulled away a warm fur that was slung over her duneback’s back and wrapped it around her shoulders and chest. Eventually, they lit five fire sticks spread throughout the worming line of near thirty guards as it weaved its way along the forest path. The fire was for the benefit of those with brown eyes who began to slow and fumble. Celóndas, Londenia and Romarus, with their blue-sight, strode along the path with little need to be close to one of the torches. Bwick stuck close to his king and seemed as startled as the dunebacks by his new surroundings and growing darkness but tried to hide his angst unconvincingly if anybody looked his way.
“We’re not far, Your Grace,” Celóndas said, turning her head to Romarus as she marched at the front of their line. “We are less than five hundred footfalls from the valley. Then you will see the temple fires.”
Romarus barely seemed to take notice. He kept looking above and all around.
The path began to climb gradually. At the point Londenia felt herself getting out of breath, it leveled out and they were overlooking a clearing below. The light from the broken moon lit the sharp lines of a massive, gray pyramid with torches running up the sloping edges. The temple of Hal Tal must have been seventy footfalls in all directions—including up. In random intervals on the stepped slopes of the great structure, trees were growing. None were hackle trees like the surrounding forest, and each looked different. Some of the trunks were gnarled and twisted, while others curved with perfect form. Around the bottom of Hal Tal, there was a black gap, making the pyramid look as if it was floating.
They descended the slope, the temple growing in front of them as they neared it. Londenia watched Celóndas. The healer beamed a proud smile as she led them to what was her home and had been her place of learning for so long.
“So this is why you complain your chambers are too small, Celo?” Londenia shouted in jest to the front of the line.
Her friend laughed and turned her head, shouting back, “Wait until you see the size of their baths, Londi.”
A bath! How wonderful that will be in a place as tranquil as this.
The gray stone of Hal Tal had a roughness to it and was covered in blue-green moss. Its imperfections made the slanting, floating pyramid blend into its surroundings. The temple was, of course, not floating. As she passed under it, and her eyes became used to the further darkness, Londenia saw the substantial stone pillars holding up the structure above. It was as if a square version of the forest had been created with a heavier stone roof in place of the blue leaf canopy they had come from. The pillar in the center of the structure was round—thicker than the others—and had an archway leading to a spiraling stair, lit with fire torches. A robed figure emerged from the warmly lit stairwell.
“Tal Marith, you have not aged a day,” Celóndas called to the old (but healthy looking) woman who took her hood down to reveal a pleasant, welcoming smile.
“My clever Celóndas, you are far too kind,” the tal called back in a motherly tone, her arms outstretched. All over the Ten Kingdoms, those most knowledgeable in their craft would gain the title of tal, which meant they passed on their knowledge to others. Tal Marith looked to be sixty (if she was a day) but had a healthy glow to her pale skin and brown eyes. Her silver hair was cut short like a boy’s and her teeth shone a bright white. “We were surprised to hear of your travels and are informed that seven of the ten kings travel to Mor. Is this true?”
“I will let my royal Queen Londenia and King Romarus inform you of the details but yes, this is indeed true,” Celóndas said, incorrectly introducing a queen before a king.
I doubt Romarus will mind, he seems rather distracted with his first trip through a forest and this large mass of rock above our heads.
Celóndas continued, “May I introduce His Grace, King Romarus, son of Locutus and ruler of Last Kingdom.”
The boy king stood five footfalls away from the tal, still looking up, musing at the stone, looming overhead.
When he didn’t step forward at this introduction, Tal Marith went forward and knelt in front of one of the guards. “King Romarus, it is an honor to meet you. I met your father when he was but a boy and…”
The scene was so awkward that Londenia found herself frozen, watching it unfold.
Romarus had heard his name enough times to snap out of his daydream and went forward to the kneeling tal. “They did not tell me that tals were so delightful.” He raised her to her feet with a gentle lift of her right hand and pressed his lips to the back of it.
Charmer, Londenia thought as she watched her boy king do what he does best.
Tal Marith, for all her years, seemed like a giggling girl. “Please forgive me, Your Grace. I did not expect one so youthful of face.”
“It’s fine. This place is…amazing. I’ve never seen so many trees before.” The pair began to walk towards the large round pillar that housed the staircase. “And this place…Hal Tal…it’s far bigger than anything in Last Kingdom.”
Marith walked beside Romarus. “You know that Hal Tal was raised by the god of life, healing and death to provide a place to study the infusions and healing properties of His forest.” She spoke of how Hal plucked the rock from the ground and carved it into shape. She sounded like a grandmother telling tales to her favorite grandchild. Romarus listened intently, for once.
“I suppose we follow them in?” Londenia called to Celóndas with a shrug and pursed lips after being ‘left on the doorstep’ as it were.
“Our king has made a good impression, it seems,” Celóndas mumbled out of one side of her mouth. “I will show you to the guest quarters, assuming they haven’t changed the layout since I left.” She beckoned the thirty-strong party inside.
The staircase was only wide enough for two to stand side by side as they climbed. Their bodies moving past the torches made the orange flames dance on the walls. The stairwell opened up into a large space, which took up the entire length and breadth of Hal Tal. There were no rooms dividing it and the north-facing wall was clear. It looked out onto the wide forest beyond, bathed in soft white moonlight from Scarred Nahar. A soft carpet was underfoot. Although in such a large space with a roof three times Londenia’s height, it felt homely and comforting. A hundred fire torches in stands edged the room, lighting it dimly.
Romarus stood at the large glass wall with Tal Marith next to him, pointing out to the forest. Her hands danced, forming shapes as her gentle voice drifted across the restful space. Londenia heard Tal Marith pass on her knowledge to the boy king: “Hal is not the most powerful of the Ten because he is the god of life… He is the most powerful because he is also the god of death; something that all mortals must face…at least once.” Tal Marith ruffled Romarus’s hair as if he were an infant, then turned to face the rest of the party, smiling. “Celóndas, perhaps you could show everybody to their living quarters. They are on the sixth platform. I wish to speak to Queen Londenia and King Romarus, to hear of their news from Mor.”
Celóndas smiled and bowed her head, turning to Londenia with wide eyes.
“This is fine, Celo,” Londenia told her. “And thank you for guiding us. Sleep well and we will speak in the morning.” She then dismissed the guards. They bowed their heads to her, then turned to Romarus, clashing their fists in front of their chest in salute to him and were led to a doorway on the east wall.
The three of them stood in the warmth of the great hall in the temple of Hal Tal, looking out on the endless forest. The blue leaves looked a dark gray in the muted light from Scarred Nahar.
“You have a most wondrous home here,” said Londenia.
“We mustn’t think of this as our home. We are guests in Hal’s home…in His forest,” Tal Marith corrected, soft and precise.
“Of course, then we are all very lucky to be guests in His home.” As Londenia spoke she felt such calmness from the old tal.
“I fear that the tidings you received from Mor were not of a good nature.” Her warm tones were directed at Londenia.
“They were…worrying, yes. They spoke of a threat to our very way of life that could rival the Great Poison.”
“If it is something potentially more terrible than the Great Poison, then this is indeed most grave. Even we who study the art of healing, still do not understand the full nature of the Great Poison that the gods brought upon those disbelievers. And we have had near one thousand years to learn of it. The poison that Hal brought, took nearly half of all women and all but a few men of blue-sight.
“It was a horrible death that killed within hours. Millions were wiped out in the space of a moon-turn. Faces blackened, nails withered, the hairs would fall from your scalp. A fever would burn through you and your own body would turn against itself until life faded. And even after the deaths, there is the matter of only those males of blue-sight being able to breed…although I am sure you are aware that, over the centuries, this seems to be changing. Villages all over the kingdoms grow in number without influence of males with blue-sight. Or so we are led to believe, but the kings and blue-eyed lords deny such rumors, of course.” When Marith finished explaining, she looked to Londenia.
As the old tal turned her back on Romarus, he took the opportunity to put his hands on the huge glass wall. Londenia found his childish exploring distracting. He began to press his lips against the surface and puff his cheeks out. Thank the Ten she can’t see this. “I cannot comprehend a thing more terrible than the Great Poison. Magister Caline was adamant in his letter that the kings should see their evidence of this new threat for themselves.”
“But not all of the kings as I understand it.”
“No, they only requested Long Kingdom, Last Kingdom, the Broken Arm, the Bay, the Dead Cities and the Wetlands. And of course your own Watch King.”
“My lady, we do not belong to any of the kingdoms. We serve them all. But yes, we do work closely with King Servin and his people,” the old tal politely corrected. “But why not the other three?” As Tal Marith asked this, Londenia suspected she already knew the answer.
Romarus continued to amuse himself by breathing on the glass and drawing pictures. She endeavored to remain focused. “They tried to speak with them first. They sent ambassadors to the Beast’s Eye but they were attacked by guards belonging to High-King Ma’leven, led by Prince Luxáran.”
“Now we mustn’t think of the High Council on the Beast’s Eye as belonging to only some of the kingdoms. Much like Hal Tal, it is for all ten.” The old tal was making correcting Londenia a habit.
You surely cannot believe that the High Council is unbiased, Londenia wanted to say but held her tongue and simply nodded politely. She brought the subject back to the message: “The magisters spoke of keeping an open mind. They felt that High-King Ma’leven, King Zi and King Sáran wouldn’t…” she hesitated, trying to think of something tactful to say.
“Do not worry, my young queen. We know of the narrow mindedness of the First, Peak and Gate Kingdoms and of the corruptions of the High Council.” Marith’s words were a relief. “I am sure we are both aware of their…histories and, shall we say, extreme interpretations of the Ten’s teachings. A direct attack on the consulate from the Still Cities would not have helped matters.”
“Indeed. And I was glad to see that the magisters did not lump the Ten Kingdoms into one.”
“The magisters of the Still Cities may not be believers in the Ten, but they are not fools. I wonder, however, if they have received word back from King Anthony. The King of the Dead Cities has been rather quiet of late. We have regular contact with all of the kingdoms as you well know but we have not had any communication with him in over a year. Some say he has crossed the forbidden boundaries of the Dead Cities and found new knowledge that he does not wish to share with anybody outside of his kingdom.”
Marith spoke of the kingdom that Londenia found the most strange. It was a place where the people lived in the land between the largest cities in the Mortal Realm. But the cities themselves lay empty. Vast sprawls of structures (some far taller than Hal Tal) lay waste and nature had all but reclaimed them. Great fear surrounded the five Dead Cities that the gods and mortals once inhabited together back in the Gods’ Age. It is said death follows those who enter. But the Kingdom of the Dead Cities has never been an aggressive one. Its king was generally held in great regard by the others. After all, he was the one charged with guarding the forbidden boundaries of the five Dead Cities and entrusted never to enter them.
Trying to ignore Romarus’s breath-art on the glass, Londenia suggested, “If he has entered the cities then he is likely dead.”
“We have word that he is still alive and I hope for this to be true, as King Anthony, and his line before him, have done nothing but serve the kingdoms. It would be a great loss. But it is concerning that he has become almost reclusive towards the other kingdoms. It is said that the gods left great knowledge within those long dead cities, and great power. Devices containing unexplained sorcery—tools that you could not imagine in your wildest of dreams. King Anthony will be well aware that the Ten cursed those cities and poisoned them until the day we are ready to learn such information and wield such power. The King of the Dead Cities swears an oath mentioning such curses and secrets,” the old tal explained, still unaware of Romarus’s capers behind her.
“If King Anthony has returned from the Dead Cities alive, perhaps this means we are ready to learn,” Londenia said, wondering why Tal Marith seemed so concerned. “I look forward to meeting King Anthony on our journey.”
“Perhaps you are right. I just fear that such power and knowledge would be dangerous in the hands of just one king. Even one from such a kind and righteous line as King Anthony. Do you not agree, King Romarus?” As the tal turned, Romarus jumped back from the glass, trying to look as casual and intelligent as possible.
The boy king looked blank. “Yes, I agree.”
Fabulous performance, Romarus… Well done, Londenia mused to herself, sarcastically.
“Where do you go to…It’s just I need to…” Romarus fumbled with his hands.
“Your Grace, do you mean you must pass water? Speak true in these walls. We are healers and there is not a bodily function that we have not witnessed.” She laughed softly.
“I need to take a shit,” King Romarus blurted ou
t.
Brilliant… Londenia was sure her face did not hide her bemusement at the king’s candidness.
The old tal had a wonderful nature about her. She simply chuckled and pointed to the doorway that the rest of the party went through earlier. “Turn left and you will find a place ten footfalls on your right.”
Once the king left the large room, they both turned to look out onto the forest again. “Does Celóndas treat him well?” Marith asked.
“Celóndas is wonderful. She has such a kind heart.” Londenia praised her good friend.
“She truly is a loving soul. I was pleased when she found a place in King Locutus’s court and that his son decided to keep her as his chief healer. Or was that under your guidance by any chance, Queen Londenia?” It was as if the old tal was trying to get to a point.
“Yes, I did recommend to Romarus that Celóndas would serve him well.”
“You guide him ably, my young queen. And you know that you will have to do this many times to come?” Marith put a calming hand on Londenia’s shoulder as if she could sense the burden she faced.
“He is just a boy.”
“A boy who must rule a kingdom and face whatever news is coming to him in the Still Cities,” the old tal pointed out sharply but gave a reassuring squeeze of the shoulder. “I do not doubt the boy’s nature. He has a pure heart and a charming way of him but his mind is still very…unpredictable. He will need you.” Without another word, just a consoling glance, Tal Marith left the room.
Londenia gazed back out into the night, across the hackle trees, wishing her father was here, longing to see his bald head and comforting wise face. King Kalon always knew the correct action to take, or perhaps it just seemed that way because he was her indestructible father. He was the man who raised Romarus’s father and this was also true of King Stewart of the Wetlands, who they would be meeting within the coming quarter moon-turn. Other kings trusted her father enough to send their firstborn to be raised under his guidance. All would be right when she looked on his wise old face again.
A Poisoned Land (Book 1: Faith, Lies and Blue Eyes) Page 7