Now in the foothills of the Kais Mountains, I traversed fertile mound and forested valley alike, my gaze so earnestly searching the snow-capped peaks that I failed to notice other eyes upon me until I nearly trod upon their possessor as she stood on the path. A buxom beauty the likes of which I’d rarely seen barred the way, her long, golden tresses framing a lovely face, with full lips I wanted to crush beneath mine, dazzling red eyes that smoldered with lust, and a winsome intensity that made her countenance blaze with passion. I sensed at once that my manliness had already charmed her, for even during the kryllan mating season the females did not brim with such fire.
“What brings you to such a remote place, bard?” the kryll inquired in a sultry alto, moving toward me with a lithe, graceful gait.
As my eyes appraised her curves, poorly concealed beneath form-hugging leggings and an emerald tunic, I replied gallantly, “I would inquire the same of you, my lovely kryll, but first I must insist on tasting your lips, lest I perish from distress!”
A delighted smile appeared as she blushed a rosy hue. When she came to me, I swept her into an embrace from which she did not escape for many moons. My companion those nights was far more pleasurable than those of late, full of verve instead of loss, and in a glade of lush grasses did we celebrate our thirst for life. I nearly forgot the sanctity of my noble quest, such was the passion of our lovemaking, and in truth I’d have forgotten my own name had she not cried it out in pleasure so many, many times. At last did we catch respite from our heated affairs, and in that lulling moment did she inquire again as to my presence here, at which point I spoke with passion as to my cause.
Being a fine singer like all kryll, she murmured, “It sounds a wondrous gift indeed, but should you proceed beyond this point, your death will surely find you, for much peril lies above.”
“I have faced danger and abide here still. I shall not go back without that which I seek.”
With a gentle caress, she said, “I sense you risk such horrors not for the sake of all, but your own vanity. It is not fair that you should possess an opportunity, and in possessing it thereby deny others the same. This will upset many. Imagine the delight others will feel if you freely give this gift—Lierein’s gift to all, not to just one man.”
And with that she kissed me deeply, reminding me of her own generous gifts and the heights of joy to which she had taken me. Her words struck true to my heart, which she had opened with her adoration, and in fear of disappointing her I felt a new desire to share the fourth chord once I had found it. This desire I conveyed to her before departing, my urges proving stronger than her own, and in praise of my decision, she gifted me with her jhaikan-staff that I might withstand the dangers before me more readily. With fond memories of her embrace, I strode onward.
Into the Kais Mountains I ascended and soon encountered a deep blue lake shimmering in the midday sun, sheer rock walls surrounding it. The narrow trail that brought me to its shores sliced through the stone on one side, but the way forward stood blocked by an avalanche of rubble that shifted as I attempted to mount it. I stepped to the water’s edge, thinking to swim across but fearing to ruin my lute.
As I stood there, the surface parted, black curls of wet hair rising from below as a mandean’s head appeared just yards away. His indigo eyes noted me in surprise, a smile revealing rows of serrated, triangular teeth that did little to reassure me. Still, I knew the innocent nature of mandeans and stood my ground as his muscular body appeared, clad in naught but a tight loin cloth. From this hung a dagger, a sling, and a large pouch. As he walked toward me, standing taller than I, I noted the gills on his neck and the slight silver sheen to his pale skin. On seeing me, the mandean wiggled his webbed fingers, but I had never learned their finger language and shrugged my incomprehension.
“Can you help me across?” I asked, pointing to the far side.
He nodded and spoke Antarian better than I expected, air bubbles squishing out the gills on his neck with each word as he gestured to a cloth bag on the shore, in which juna, olin, and similar fruits lay. “Yes. First I go under. Take these.”
I glanced at the open sack. “Surely they will still be here upon your return.”
He shook his head, droplets falling to ripple the water at his knees. “Daekais will seize.” He gestured over the lake, and there in the distance I saw the flying menace taking flight from rock formations. Their haphazard flying helped distinguish them from their fair brothers, morkais, both humanoid save for the wings. My presence had apparently inspired their approach whereas the mandean’s had not, for he could escape beneath the surface.
“If I remain here,” I began, “it will be I they attempt to seize with their poisonous claws, and there is nowhere to hide down the trail.”
Pulling out a stone for his sling, he suggested, “I distract. You flee.”
“But I must cross!” I protested.
“Why?”
Once again I relayed my quest, albeit quickly, and upon hearing of this new chord, the mandean trembled with excitement such that I cursed myself for a fool. I should have mentioned it at the start, knowing that Lierein himself helped create mandeans, who are well known for their beautiful songs. Many a sailor has been mesmerized by their haunting melodies. This fellow and I were kin of sorts.
“I help,” he promised eagerly, putting away the sling. “You succeed, you return to share Lierein’s gift?”
“Certainly!”
I waded into the cold water, regretting only that my dear lute would be ruined. My new friend gripped my wrist and pulled me far under, propelling me through the chill water with greater speed than I would have imagined. Upon seeing my breath about to expire, he brought me to the surface and back under without slowing. This we repeated often, small rocks splashing near us as daekais pursued us from above, but my guide proved resourceful in reappearing where they did not expect us. On nearing the far shore, we dove deep down into a tunnel to emerge in an air-filled cave where more of his kin waited. He announced my quest in their musical language, and at once a sack of foodstuffs and fish were provided with such eagerness that I wept for their benevolence.
Having seen that I traveled without a means to fend off daekais, my guide gifted me with his fine sling and a pouch of smooth stones I tucked into my belt. I soon had need of them as I departed, for the daekais were not unfamiliar with the long passage I now enjoyed. As I strode into the sunlight, a clever handful appeared before me, their brown wings snapping in the mountain breeze. With shrieks they plunged toward me, yellow claws and teeth gnashing as rocks flew in my direction, shattering upon the canyon walls.
Accompanying myself with a hearty battle hymn from the empire’s glory days, I let fly at the nearest terror and split its skull, sending it crashing to the stones below. Several more followed suit until at last I stood alone against a furious female, both of us without projectiles. Seeing her advantage, her claws able to poison me into delirium, she swooped toward me until I lifted my ruined lute like a weapon. She changed course, gliding to perch on a boulder just yards away. Despite a favorable wind, I could smell her unkempt dirtiness and soiled tunic, likely stolen from riven or querra. It fit her poorly. Hissing like a mynx, she spat at me.
“What you want?” she demanded, casting a protective glance at the peaks around us, presumably at her hidden stash of treasures.
Glaring straight into her sallow eyes, I stated, “That is none of your concern.”
She snarled in response, fearful yet too greedy to back away, eyes on my lute. “Give or no pass.”
Though my instrument was ruined, I replied, “I have nothing of value but this lute, and this you may not have.”
“Give it!”
“No, without it I cannot acquire what I seek,” I replied, unsure if it was true.
Passion for my sought treasure flared in her orange eyes. “What?”
Smiling to myself, I ignored the common wisdom to hide one’s belongings from daekais, for I knew she could never lay cla
im to what I sought, though it was not yet mine. “I seek a chord none have ever possessed. It will be mine.”
“Mine!” she shouted, casting about her for some sign of it.
Laughing, I replied, “No, you will not find it here and it will forever lie beyond your reach.”
Her nasty little hands clenched into fists. “No! Mine!”
I admired her single-mindedness and finally decided upon a ruse. “If I give you this lute, will you let me pass?”
She leaned forward eagerly, arm outstretched, all fear forgotten in her greed. I sensed duplicity in her gaze but brought that to an end as I smashed the lute over her head. Even as she fell to the ground unconscious, her grasping hand strained toward me such that I recoiled in distaste. Leaving the remains of both her and my lute behind, I continued higher up into the mountains in search of my destiny.
To assist in my travels over the perilous, rocky landscape, I assembled the jhaikan-staff from several pieces into one and used it as a walking stick. I followed the well-worn dirt trail through the trees and rock outcroppings until at last I found the peril of which my kryllan lover had spoken. Or should I say, it found me. I was certain I would not have seen him had he not wanted me to, for I’d felt his presence around me for some hours but saw him not. I now stepped between two boulders to find a creature of violence and death before me, his scaly skin the greens and browns of our surroundings. Clad in naught but malevolence, with talons at the ready, he flicked a forked tongue between wicked teeth, smelling his prey. Standing on two legs, the jhaikan seemed but a youth to me, for he stood merely a foot taller than I.
Pointing at the ground, he spoke stilted Antarian in a guttural voice so deep it sounded like the rumble of thunder. “My land. Bow to me.”
I decided to humble myself in the name of hastening my journey’s completion, and so I bowed and replied, “I must pass.”
“No.”
Mindful of his terrible claws, I insisted, “But I must. I seek a chord given by Lierein to all the species and I must acquire it.”
“If here,” the jhaikan replied, a sweep of his arm indicating the mountains, “it is mine.”
Knowing jhaikan do not appreciate art, much less partake in creating it, I replied, “But you have no use for it.”
He snarled, baring serrated teeth. “You are here. You are mine.”
Unamused by his impertinence, I slammed the jhaikan-staff’s butt on the ground and its silver blades leapt into view from one end, prompting my opponent to slash the mountain air with his talon-tipped tail.
“I belong to no one.”
With a growl he replied, “Soon you belong to Krairon.”
With that he began to stalk me as we circled one another, I having no intention of visiting with the Lord of the Dead just yet. With jhaikan-staff in hand I faced the mighty man-eating creature, and so terrible was my visage that he knew fear where few jhaikan had. In the trees I heard the rustling foliage as his brothers looked on. I knew then that only one path led to freedom.
With a sweep of his arm came the first strike, which I met with the staff’s blades, shearing the arm off in a shower of blood. The jhaikan howled in pain but slowed not, incensed by the injury such that claws, teeth, and tail did snap at me in furious succession. I barely parried one blow before the next came, and long minutes passed before I again struck the beast, the cracking of its ribs echoing off the peaks around us. Such was his might that even with only one arm and now wheezing for breath, he withstood my whirling staff until I at last struck the head, dazing him. A moment later and I finally sent him upon his way to Jhaikandor, that land of dead jhaikan.
The trees shook with the fury of his companions, who would surely have attacked then had I not defeated him in single combat, earning my safe passage from jhaikan attacks for three days, provided I severed the head and took it with me. This I did, and the others lurking nearby molested me not, though they dogged my footsteps day and night. I felt their hungry eyes upon my back until at last I found the final task before me. Neither jhaikan nor riven, neither kryll nor daekais had stopped me from my course, nor the horrors of the undead. But here at last I found a temptation to sway even the most stalwart man, and it was born of my own flesh.
I came upon a cave where a full score of human women lay scantily clad in silken garments that did little to hide their feminine wares, nor were they meant to. No, indeed, their heaving bosoms, jiggling rumps, pouty lips and all were despicable traps to ensnare men. The remains of my predecessors lay strewn about the floor, poorly concealed beneath thick fur rugs and gleaming gems the likes of which I’d never seen. Truly had I stumbled upon a place of great riches such that a man might never leave. The sweet nectar of offered love enticed me more than any heady mead. A great lust burned my loins at once, nearly as strong as my desire for the fourth chord, and with a hearty battle cry I leapt upon the women to quench myself at length.
But I was no fool. Senses reeling, I knew what was required to escape where all had failed before me. I must satiate not myself, but the bounty of female flesh before me, just as the chord should not be for me, but all Llurien. It was no easy task. No, indeed, brave and robust men had failed in this final challenge where I would not. For many days and still more nights did I pierce their flesh with mine, smote their rumps, and pound their hips with the force of my manliness. The field of battle lay strewn with sated bodies as I hewed about me, my blazing manhood so afire that first one and then another lusty woman finally collapsed in exhaustion, submitting to their master, chained by adoration to the floor. And when at last I alone stood breathing heavily into the perfumed air, the long sought object of my quest did appear before me.
On a gilded pedestal waited a pristine lute bathed in sunlight, humming softly with the source of my desire, a resonance that had already ensnared the women around me. At once I stood in rapt attention as my soul drank in the wondrous sounds, ears tingling with the myriad tones—silken, harsh and everything in between. I wept in gratitude. As my tears flowed unabated, my voice rose in robust song as an unchained melody soared from the depths of my soul. The fourth chord and I were one, and when my eyes next cleared of tears, I found the Lute of Lierein cradled in my grasp, the chord imprinted upon me forever. Eager to show it to the world, I cast about for a quick passage back to safe lands.
Unwilling to risk the treasure to the heathens I’d encountered before, I sought another escape. I advanced further into the cavern until at last I emerged upon a wind-torn peak, daylight sparkling around me. Naught but a terrible fall to the jagged stones below awaited, for no way down appeared. Then a mighty perrin bird’s scream split the air as the giant menace appeared in the sky, having seen me, its prey, exposed upon the ledge. With a wingspan of over a hundred feet, it could’ve easily split me in twain with beak or talons, and yet I stood my ground, armed with a weapon more wicked than any the wild bird possessed. With lute in hand, I unleashed the new chord on my foe, my soothing strains calming the beast such that it alighted upon the rocky perch beside me in submission, unwilling to harm the source of such splendor. I knew then that the red and white-feathered bird would do my bidding but no others’.
Having thus secured my steed, I leapt upon the bird’s back and as one we launched into the azure sky, her fierce cry echoing off the snow-capped mountains with such beauty that I broke into song myself. Together we serenaded all we passed below, kings and peasants alike ceding their toils to another day. Respite had come, the weariness of ages falling away, vitality and the luster of youth restored as we soared over field and forest, lake and river, peak and valley. With tear-filled eyes did they watch us disappear over the horizon and into the fiery sun.
The magnificent bird devoted to me beyond all measure, I took it upon myself to travel fair Llurien, showering the innocent with Lierein’s gift as it flowed from the lute. Ladies fainted, men wept, lads became men, and virgin lasses blossomed in my presence, such was the power of my voice. In no time at all did fame fly before me on t
he wind, and not a door stood closed to me upon the land. With arms thrown wide in welcome did the grandest palaces, kingdoms, and empires submit to my newfound mastery of song.
Such great riches were heaped upon me that I built my life anew here on the splendid shores of the Cove of Nybor, and to my shrine of song do the faithful come in droves. Students have carried my lessons to all of fair Llurien such that my fame knows no bounds, my masterful compositions known far and wide. The pleasures I knew on the mountaintop are but a taste of my every moment now, and I am the envy of every man. I have all that a man could want and more, and yet all that I have ever truly wanted was the beauteous new chord. With it in my grasp I have known naught but peace and happiness ever since.
* * *
Having finished his tale, Ronyn cast bright eyes on his feminine audience, both the white-robed visitor and ginger-winged morkais looking suitably impressed with his exploits. His mood didn’t last long, however. The impassioned air about him soon dimmed as his present misery churned the light in his eyes to dark pools of despair.
Noticing this, the woman in white asked, “If your life is so wonderful, then why the long face and all this terrible commotion? Whatever could upset so great a happiness?”
With a bitter look at the ginger-winged morkais, Ronyn muttered, “On the wings of misery has come the dreadful news that a fifth chord exists. It lies far from here such that I must take my leave from Antaria, journeying across tempestuous seas for far away Llorus, there to find the new prize that can restore my happiness.”
“You cannot be happy without it?”
Outrage flared from Ronyn. “Knowing that it exists but not knowing its touch? No!”
The Epic of Ronyn (The Tales of Llurien Book 2) Page 2