Yorien's Hand (The Minstrel's Song Book 3)

by Jenelle Leanne Schmidt

  A man entered the room, closing the door behind him. He appeared to be approximately ten years older than Ina though there was no gray in his light brown hair or the beard that covered part of an old scar running down the length of the right side of his face. He carried a small sack over one shoulder and he walked with a bit of a limp. But there was strength and wisdom in the lines of his face, and he moved with spirit. He took in the sight of the company seated around the room and his lips turned up in a welcoming grin.

  “This is a change,” he said in a cheery tone. “Ina dinner smells good, who are our guests?”

  Brant stood. “Colas,” he said taking the man’s hand in both of his own, a warmth in his expression that Oraeyn was unaccustomed to seeing.

  Colas took Brant’s hand with a puzzled tilt to his head. “Do I know you, sir?” he asked.

  “We met once before,” Brant said. “My name now is Brant, though you knew me by my childhood name. Do you not recognize me?”

  Colas peered hard at Brant’s face and recognition dawned. “Rhoyan?” he asked incredulously.

  “I have returned.”

  “But… but you’ve barely aged ten years, though it was no less than forty since you were here before!” Colas looked wondering. “Truly, the same amount of time must have passed for us both, yet now I appear to be your senior, though you must certainly be at least as old as I.”

  “Older,” Brant responded.

  “Ina, the man looks no different than he did when he last visited.”

  Ina nodded, her gaze was distant and unseeing, but her voice was strong. “Perhaps he does not look any different, however, we are all of us changed since last we met in this very room. We have all grown much since then. You have grown too, Rhoyan. I can tell that you have endured trials of your own although the years might have been kinder to you than they have to us.”

  Brant chuckled. “It’s in the blood.”

  Ina’s answering smile was fierce. “Yes, I know.”

  Oraeyn cleared his throat and half rose from his seat, unable to abide not knowing what was going on any longer. “Brant, I don’t mean to be rude, but who are these people?” he asked, keeping his voice even. “What are we doing here?”

  “Yes,” Ina said demurely. “Introduce us to your friends, please.”

  “Forgive me,” Brant said. “I was so caught up in the joy of finding you still here... of course I need to explain. Ina, Colas, these are King Oraeyn and Princess Kamarie of Aom-igh, the minstrel: Kiernan Kane, and Thorayenak, Rhimmell, and Yole, dragons of Aom-igh. They are my friends.” He bowed his head slightly and then turned to the rest of the company. “I told you that I journeyed here once before. There is not time to explain the entire story, but I met Ina, Colas, and their mother when I first came here. Ina’s mother was a guardian of sorts and she helped me find Yorien’s Hand.”

  Oraeyn sat back down, mollified, though not completely satisfied. Colas and Ina joined the small company by sitting down and relaxing with them. Ina and Colas were warm, hospitable people, and the small company soon felt very much at ease. Colas regaled them with tales of his adventures at sea. He had apprenticed under a man named Captain Delmar a few years after Brant’s first visit to Emnolae, and the two men were mutual acquaintances of the gruff sea captain. Though the others did not know Captain Delmar, the stories Brant and Colas shared were ones they could all enjoy. Then Brant told brief snatches of how things had turned out for him, and they all listened intently, Oraeyn most of all. The warrior did not talk about himself often, and Oraeyn was always eager to find out more about the mysteries that wrapped themselves around Brant in a heavy, impenetrable cloak.

  “Ah,” Colas said after Brant finished telling about the battle between Aom-igh and Llycaelon. “It is good to see you again, Rhoy…” he caught himself. “I mean, Brant. But what is it that brings you back to Emnolae? Surely you did not come all this way with six companions, three of whom are dragons, to catch up with a remnant of your past.”

  Brant’s face turned serious. “Have you heard of Ghrendourak?”

  Colas’s friendly look turned strained. “That is an ill name to speak so freely, even in daylight. Word of that evil creature has reached us even here.”

  “You are right, the name is a fell one, but my speaking it cannot summon him. Though he would have wished to stop us from arriving here, he will be wary of Emnolae. The greatest threat to his power rests here.”

  Ina stirred and rubbed her arms. “You have come for Yorien’s Gift once more, have you?”

  “We intend to destroy him before he gets any stronger,” Kiernan affirmed.

  “So that’s what you’ve come for, eh?” Colas nodded. “Come to see if you can’t master the star a second time around.”

  Brant shook his head. “Not I,” he gestured to Oraeyn. “If the prophecies are to be believed. Oraeyn, show them your sword.”

  Oraeyn hesitated, but Brant nodded his encouragement and Oraeyn stood reluctantly. He drew his sword and held it up for Colas to see. The golden blade flickered in the light cast by the fire in the hearth, and Colas caught his breath sharply. It was Ina who moved first though.

  She walked over to Oraeyn, her steps careful but certain, staring blankly. She stopped in front of the young king and touched the blade. Then she laid a light hand upon Oraeyn’s arm. Oraeyn shuddered, a sudden chill sweeping through him. The woman turned her blank gaze around the room and she stopped when she came to Kiernan Kane. Meaningful wordlessness passed between them, and Oraeyn ached to know what was communicated in that strange, sightless gaze.

  “Guide them well, fool,” Ina said in a hushed voice, “but do not be misled yourself, the prophecy is not as clear as you believe it to be.”

  ❖ ❖ ❖

  “Something is wrong, Sire,” Devrin exclaimed as he dashed up to Jemson. He was panting and his voice was hoarse. When he saw the two wizardesses he drew himself to a halt. He made an apologetic bow. “Forgive me,” he gasped. “I did not know you had visitors.”

  “You must be Devrin, the dragon ward,” Leila said. “Please, join us.”

  Devrin made a strange face and looked to the king for clarification. Jemson nodded.

  “Yes, this involves all of us. You should hear what they have to say. And I would like to know what it was you were about to say as well.”

  “It’s Shentallyia, Sire, she says she can feel an ominous presence approaching, an evil that threatens all the lands. She tried to reach King Rhendak in Aom-igh with her thoughts, but could not find him. I don’t really understand it, but she said I should come talk to you.”

  Jemson turned to the two wizardesses. “I get the idea that this has to do with what you came to tell me about?”

  Dylanna nodded. “As I said, there is much to tell, Your Majesty.”

  Jemson’s face tightened and he raised his hand to his chin, then swiftly dropped it back down, letting his fingers play with the pommel of his sword instead. “I see.”

  “Who are these people?” Devrin asked suddenly.

  “Forgive me,” Jemson said. “Devrin, this is Dylanna and Leila, they are wizardesses from Aom-igh and dear friends of my uncle.”

  “Ah,” Devrin replied, “pleased to meet you.”

  “You said that your dragon cannot contact anyone in Aom-igh?” Dylanna asked.

  “That is correct. She is very concerned, and I am worried for her.”

  Dylanna crossed her arms. “This is the very reason we were sent to you. An ancient Enemy has risen from beyond the Nameless Isles and the safety of all Tellurae Aquaous is threatened. We received reports of his armies marching uncontested through Yochathain, Efoin-Ebedd, and Kallayohm.”

  Jemson’s expression grew worried. “Tell me,” he said.

  Dylanna explained about how she and Leila had gotten trapped in the portal. Then she informed Jemson about how his uncle and the rest of the company had come to find them and told of their continuing quest to Emnolae
in the search for Yorien’s Hand.

  “Then no one is safe,” Jemson said. “And the seheowks are not really gone.”

  “The seheowks are the least of your worries, Majesty,” Leila replied. “I have seen this enemy, he calls himself Ghrendourak. I have seen his plans for our world. The seheowks are the smallest and most insignificant of the were-folk that comprise his army. There are monsters that make dragons look small, creatures so warped and twisted that what they once were is impossible to even guess. His power is fell and terrible indeed, based on lies and hate and cruelty. He feeds on our vices and wields them as his weapons.”

  Jemson rose. “We must ready the men and warn our people. We do not seek war, but neither do we run from it.” He turned and met Dylanna’s steady gaze. “The two of you must speak with Shentallyia and see if you can discover what is happening in Aom-igh. Surely this enemy cannot have moved so quickly as to overwhelm our sister country in so short a time.”

  “I hope not, Sire.” Dylanna replied gravely.

  “Captain Devrin,” Jemson said, “take the wizardesses to meet with Shentallyia. Perhaps their combined strength can reach the dragon king. We must unite our efforts to fight this threat.” He turned to the wizardesses. “Do what you can, and thank you for the warning, without which we would have no hope at all.”

  CHAPTER

  TWENTY

  Though Oraeyn had been eager to set off towards the mountain right away, Ina and Colas had urged them to spend the night in their cabin first. In light of the lack of rest any of them had gotten the previous night, it had not taken much convincing.

  The next morning the travelers gathered once more in Ina’s kitchen to eat. An air of peace permeated the cabin, surrounding them and easing their cares while bolstering their courage and determination.

  Ina had food waiting on the table. As the travelers ate, they snuck glances at Brant, wondering how long he was planning on remaining. For the first time since they had departed Aom-igh they felt safe; however, they were also anxious to see the end of their journey.

  Brant, however, did not appear to be in any kind of hurry to resume their quest. He sat at the table and ate slowly, savoring each bite. Oraeyn noticed him shooting furtive glances about the room. A while later, Brant got up and paced about, tilting his head and examining first the books on a desk and next the large shells that adorned a small shelf. When everyone else was finished eating, Ina busied herself washing the dishes and Kamarie helped.

  The conversation of the previous evening between Brant and Colas had paused because the travelers were exhausted, but Brant seemed eager to return to it now that they were rested and fed. The small company stayed silent for the most part.

  Kiernan brooded in a chair that he had pushed back into a remote corner of the room. Oraeyn sat and listened, wondering when they were going to get back to their quest. The dragons eventually got up and stalked outside, edgy and restless. Ina and Kamarie finished the dishes and returned to the main part of the room. Ina sat, straight-backed and prim, next to her brother, but Kamarie remained standing.

  “So what are you doing back here on Emnolae?” Brant asked Colas.

  Colas shifted in his chair. “I stayed with the good captain for a long while. He was always like a father to me, and when he offered to take me aboard as part of his crew I jumped at the chance, though it nearly broke my heart to leave my mother and Ina behind. We sailed all over the named world and I saw more wonders than I ever could have dreamed. But Captain Delmar could not stay away from Emnolae forever, and after several years, we returned here.

  “He came with every intention of marrying my mother and retiring from his life at sea. He had saved up quite a good sum of money, and he felt he had enough to offer her—enough to live comfortably anyway. But we were almost too late as it was. Mother was very ill when we returned, and Ina herself had a horrible fever. Mother had obviously been caring for Ina when she caught the fever herself and collapsed on the floor. Ina was so weak all she could manage was to drag herself out of bed and curl up on the floor next to our mother. How long they had been like that when we found them is anyone’s guess. Ina doesn’t remember, already the sickness had taken her sight and day and night blurred together for her in feverish dreams.

  “We did everything we could, but Mother never recovered. The fever eventually broke, but it had done its damage. She was blind then too, and she could hardly breathe without pain. Ina had pulled through, and though she was weak we believed she would continue to improve. Mother drew her close and passed her legacy on, and then she begged Captain Delmar to take care of us. He agreed to do whatever she wished, all the while promising that she would get better soon, all the while knowing it was a lie. She was dying. He kept his promise though. We buried her out next to Father and Delmar stayed with us and raised us. He never went back to sea. He died four years ago, and it has just been Ina and me since then.”

  “How do you do it? All by yourselves way out here?” Kamarie asked.

  “We get by,” Colas said. “Neither one of us likes the bustle and busy mood of even small settlements. I’ve been in cities and don’t care for them. Delmar took us into town once, but Ina received such a negative reaction that we never went back. The younger ones pointed and whispered that she was an evil that should have been destroyed rather than let live. The older ones hurried by like prolonged contact might contaminate them. The bolder ones threw rocks and hurled insults.

  “She was just a child, and neither Delmar nor I could bear to see her tears. So, we grew our own food, made our own clothes, and if we ever needed anything, Delmar would go into town to get it for us.”

  Kamarie made a sympathetic noise and moved forward to take Ina’s hand in her own. Ina leaned against Kamarie and murmured a comforting word in her ear. Then she straightened.

  “I was stronger than my brother or Delmar believed,” Ina said in a clear and steady voice. “Yes, I cried, but not for myself. They will never see as clearly as I do. I merely lost my eyesight; those who jeered at me had lost all their sight. Their insults stung, true, but more than that I pitied them their loss.”

  Kamarie stared at the woman. “How can you say such a thing? They were so awful to you.”

  “They hurt themselves more than they ever could have hurt me,” Ina replied. “You have a gentle heart. Your young man is very lucky to have such a woman for his betrothed.”

  Kamarie blushed and peeked across the room at Oraeyn. She half hoped that he had not heard the comment because she did not want him to feel self-conscious or awkward. He did not look embarrassed by the woman’s words.

  “Yes, I know,” he replied simply.

  “And whatever happened to Dru?” Brant was asking. “Did he stay with Captain Delmar after they left Llycaelon?”

  Colas laughed. “A real pirate, that one. Better seaman than most I’ve seen, but a thief through and through. He sailed with us for a time. I think he felt obligated to look after me, he knew it was what you would have wanted, but his only real loyalty was to you, Rhoyan... Brant, sorry. After a time he acquired a ship of his own…”

  “You mean he stole it,” Brant guffawed.

  “Of course,” Colas replied, his shoulders lifting in a hint of a shrug. “Then he gathered his own crew and left with Captain Delmar’s somewhat dubious blessing. The last I heard the man was terrorizing the western seas. Anyway, I believe he’s a wealthy old pirate now. He’s not quite as noble as he’d like people to think, certainly he keeps a portion of that which he steals for himself and his crew, so he’s probably living like a king on the high seas. He’s more of a name to frighten children with than anything else these days. I haven’t heard tell of any real attacks in several years. They probably pulled into an obscure port and retired once they were all rich enough.”

  “Captain Dru, the pirate. It sounds about right,” Brant mused in a fond tone.

  “Brant,” Ina spoke up. “What are you here for? I know why you have come
to Emnolae, but why did you come here, to this house? Surely you came here for more than a place to sleep and a meal. You had no idea we were still alive, let alone still residing here; what did you hope to gain by returning? Your quest is of great importance, time presses at you, and yet you linger, much to the perturbation of your friends, I might add. Why?”

  “You truly have your mother’s sight,” Brant sighed. “Your mother had a key. She was a gatekeeper, in her own way. She not only kept the memories of Emnolae alive, but protected its greatest treasure as well. A long time ago, she trusted me with that treasure enough to aid a young boy in a foolish quest for the ignoble goal of glory and an exciting adventure. What she saw in that boy I’ll never know or understand. But I had hoped she might trust me with the key once again, this time not for glory or honor, and not for myself at all, but rather to save Tellurae Aquaous from that which threatens to destroy us all. But since she is no longer among the living, I suppose we will just have to find another way into the mountain.”

  Ina shook her head, a sad, quiet look on her fine features. “No, you shall have what you seek. My mother passed her legacy to me, along with her memories and the treasures of Tellurae Aquaous she was bound to protect. Emnolae is the center, it always has been. Here High Kings have risen and fallen. If Yorien indeed existed and is more than merely a legend, then this is where he decided to place his gift, the one weapon he could grant against the evil that has threatened from the edges of the world throughout time. This is where the heart of our world beats, and I guard it. The key is mine to protect and to give.”

  “You have the key to the tunnel under the mountain? Your mother once trusted me with it, will you trust me once again?”

  “You are a very different person than the impetuous boy who wandered into this house by accident so many years ago. Rhoyan came seeking glory and adventure, but Brant seeks healing and truth. I said then that Rhoyan would bring the healer, and he has, he has brought the new High King to Emnolae. Long ago my mother trusted Rhoyan with the past, now I shall trust Brant with the future,” she reached into the pocket of her apron and then held out her hand, a simple, rusty key lay in her outstretched palm and she offered it to Brant. “Take it, Brant. May you find freedom for us all.”