Whispers of War: The War for the North: Book One

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Whispers of War: The War for the North: Book One Page 19

by Sean Rodden


  “Asrayal looked to the East and saw Yriel’s fortifications and armouries in a darker light, for the Shadow of Ilurin had fallen across his heart, and he believed others to be covetous of his wealth of shiny things. And so, under the guise of friendship, Asrayal did bid Yriel attend his court, so that he might test the King of the East, and discover for himself the truth of his brother’s heart. When Yriel came to the South, Asrayal displayed for him the trove of gold and precious stones he had amassed, and Yriel’s eyes widened in wonder and love for the treasure. And though the light in Yriel’s gaze was of innocent appreciation for the treasure rather than desire for it, Asrayal saw otherwise, and in a rage he struck down the King of the East and slew him. So came death and murder into the Tale of First Earth.

  “Ilurin laughed in blackest joy, and urged Asrayal to make war upon the orphaned land of the East, lest another King rise to power and seek to avenge Yriel’s death. So it was that Asrayal marched upon the East with a host of unnumbered thousands. And they were met in battle by Defurien, and the land of the East was made red with blood. And though Defurien fought bravely and well, the enemy were too many, and they had been empowered with rage and hate. Defurien sent emissaries West and North, begging aid, but Gavrayel refused him, saying he would not partake in war, and Micyll debated overlong on the rightness of the issue.

  “When Micyll did at last march to Defurien’s aid, he came over-late, for the war for the East had long been lost, and Asrayal had taken the fortress of Yriel, and had claimed it for his own. Defurien had only a small scattering of warriors left to him, and with these and the help of beasts of fur and feather, he fought a war of attrition from the wilderness. Upon seeing for himself the devastation of the land of the East, a wasteland of corpses and ruin, Micyll was wroth, and called Defurien to him, and together they besieged Asrayal in his stolen fortress. Of the Athair of First Earth, Micyll was the mightiest, and his host most strong and numerous, and he destroyed the hosts of Asrayal, and broke the walls of his refuge, dragging the usurper from his purloined throne and throwing him upon the blood-grimed ground at his feet.

  “There did Micyll hear the truth at the heart of Asrayal’s treachery, and knew Ilurin to be the core and cause of it, and he swore to rid the Earth of her enemy or die in the trying. And he forbade the name of Ilurin to ever be spoken again, rather the fallen Hiath would be known as Unluvin the Treacher. But upon Asrayal he took some pity, and left his fate to Defurien, and Defurien declared that Asrayal be banished from the lands of the Athair, that he be as dead in the hearts and minds of all the Earth’s Children. And Asrayal laughed, and spat upon Defurien’s boots, and fled far into the South and Shadow.

  “Unluvin the Treacher saw that the Athair were much weakened, that their eastern and southern kingdoms were virtually destroyed, and that Micyll’s entire host was assembled in the East, weary and vulnerable. And so swiftly he attacked – though he dared not sally forth himself, for he feared the great Athain lords – and he unleashed the hordes of demons dark and foul that he had secreted deep in the bowels of the Earth. The valour of the hosts of Micyll and Defurien served them well against all hope, and long they held the field of war against a foe tenfold their numbers. But Asrayal came again from the South with another force, and Micyll and Defurien knew their dooms were nigh.

  “But lo! A voice there was awing the western wind, and unlooked for from the forests of the West came the hosts of Gavrayel, the Seven Princes in their van, Sun Lords all, and for each Lord a thousand Knights. And the Sun Knights of the West fell upon the foul forces of Ilurin and Asrayal like a summer storm. Following a long and costly war, the land was cleansed of evil and Shadow was driven into the sea. Asrayal was taken by Defurien, and in single combat was the traitor slain by that glorious Lord, and in that manner was good Yriel avenged.

  “But with his dying words, Asrayal cursed Defurien with the Creeping Doom, a deep and dark magic he had gleaned from Unluvin. And Defurien and his people became afflicted with mortality – death by age and illness, not very unlike the fates of the Men of Second Earth – though Defurien’s people remained long-lived and hardy. So it was that the fiannari, the Deathward, came into the Tale, and they suffer under the Plague, the Curse of Asrayal, even unto this day.”

  “I presume, Shield Maiden, the Defurien of which you speak is the same whose likeness stands in stone and gold beneath the Silver Stair – the founder and Father and First Lord of the Fiannar.”

  “That is so.”

  Axennus stroked his smooth square chin. Wonder swirled in his hazel eyes.

  “Then it is true that the Fiannar are of the Athair, not of Mankind.”

  Caelle smiled.

  “The Fiannar are a people unto themselves, warders of marches and mountains, fenders of forest and fen. We are less than what we once were, but more than what our enemy would have had us become. We are the Fiannar. Neither Ath nor Man, but something there between.” She paused, and her smile faded, and something like sorrow stole into her voice. “And we are not long for this world.”

  “Shield Maiden?”

  The Fiann did not immediately respond, but gazed at the Ambassador with deep, damp eyes.

  Then, “My tale is not yet done, Ambassador.”

  Axennus took her small hand in his own.

  “You have my ear, Shield Maiden.”

  “With the Curse of Asrayal came also the blessing of procreation to the Fiannar, for in the law of the Teller, all must be balanced, darkness with light, death with life. Of the love of Defurien for his wife Fircuine came Palladian and Vallian, twin sons, the first of the Born to come into the Tale. Vallian was hale and healthy, but Palladian was a sickly child, and was entrusted to the care of Gavrayel in the West, there to be fostered until such time that he be cured of his ills. Of Vallian much is told, but Palladian’s fate remains unknown, and it is thought that he succumbed to his affliction, for his name does not come again into this tale nor any other. And the people of Defurien began to age, and die, but they produced many children, and thereby was the pain of the Plague greatly lessened.

  “The Fiannar did not suffer the Curse of Asrayal alone, for the creatures of the Earth that loved and served them also shared in their doom. The ivory coats of their elliamir turned grey and their golden manes silvered, and they aged and foaled, and became the mirarra; the lupine tararri, fierce and loyal, became the savage warokka, the great war wolves of the Fiannar; and the screaethri, Defurien’s wings and eyes, laid their first eggs and became the throkka of the skies.

  “And in the wake of war, there were those among the surviving people of Asrayal who had not partaken in their King’s treachery, or who had done and had since repented, and their fates were debated by Micyll and Gavrayel and Defurien. The Kings and the Lord forgave them the evils of Asrayal, though Micyll and Defurien refused them sanctuary. But Gavrayel was of kinder heart, though four of his Princes and many thousands of his folk had fallen in battle, and he accepted the unhomed as his own, that they not be without kin and King.

  “Yet Sammayal, first and fiercest follower of Asrayal, in spite or in shame refused Gavrayel’s forgiveness. And he gathered many of the Folk of Asrayal to him and departed in darkness, never again to be seen upon the First Earth.

  “And then the Athair withdrew, Gavrayel going west, and Micyll returning to the North, for they had not the strength to hold the East, nor the heart to remain there amidst the wastes of war.

  “Having no land of their own – as the East was destroyed, and the South abandoned for the lingering memory of Asrayal’s evil – the Fiannar made their abodes in the farthest eastern marches of the Athain lands West and North, there to remain in wary readiness lest Unluvin return with war. And this line of defense became known as the Rillaghir Defyrine, the Pale of Defurien, a golden bulwark against the tide of Unluvin’s evil, remembered by the Fiannar to this day in the shining rillagha across their hearts.

  “Unluvin saw that the lands East and South had been forsaken by the Athai
r, and he departed his island stronghold, and unchallenged he made his lair in the ruins of murdered Yriel’s fortress. And to this he made repair, and a black bastion rose strong and grotesque, and was called Ungloth the Lightless. And darkness came to the East and to the South, the former a desert of Shadow and blasted stone, the latter a poisonous bog of mists and twisted things. And Unluvin gathered his strength, bided his time, eyes ever west and north, with the blackest of hate in his heart.

  “And ever did Unluvin test the defenses of those lands, sending innumerable sorties against the Fiannar that held the Pale of Defurien. But the Fiannar were strong and brave, and they had grown in number under the Curse of Asrayal, and the marches of the Athain Lands were become dread places where the minions of Unluvin went to die.

  “But the Athair and the Fiannar were wise, and knew that time was no friend to them, for the might of Unluvin was growing. And so they held council about the Stone of Scullain, the Cornerstone of the Earth. Defurien advised open war, but the two remaining Kings of the Athair refused him, as the numbers of their people were finite, for unlike the Fiannar, they bore no offspring, and each life lost to them was a light forever extinguished and removed from the World.

  “Micyll recommended the withdrawal of all peoples to his hidden stronghold in the mountains of the North, for he deemed it secret and unconquerable. And Gavrayel advised departure from First Earth, for its beauty was already greatly stained and beyond reclamation, and he deemed its doom certain. And though they each debated long and persuasively, they came to no consensus. So it was that Gavrayel gathered his people and sailed for Second Earth. And Micyll went with his mighty folk deep into the northern mountains.

  “But the Fiannar would neither flee nor hide, and they alone remained to hold unto death the Pale of their Lord. A hundred Houses did they have, noble clans proud and true, and of these Defurien’s and Eccuron’s and Hiridion’s were most in might. And the Masters of the Houses of the Fiannar gathered for counsel amongst themselves, for they knew their time was short, that Unluvin would soon come upon them in all his might, and that the Pale could not be long held. And so they mustered the fullness of their force, and in courage or in folly, they marched upon Ungloth, that they might meet the Enemy in a last battle upon the lands that had once been their own, to find there victory – or honour in death and final glory.

  “And so war came again to the East. So great were the wrath and courage of the Fiannar that they held the field for forty days and forty nights, and battered the very gates of Ungloth the Lightless. But Unluvin had withheld his most potent weapons, and now he unleashed them upon the Fiannar; great dragons and worms of wing and fire, and the kuarokur, most powerful and formidable of all demons. The Fiannar saw the coming of their Tale’s End, and they assembled amongst their countless dead in a final stand worthy of great praise and song, though none might remain to remember. And there, beneath a bleeding moon, they awaited their doom.

  “But word had come to Micyll in his mountain fastness of the plight of the Fiannar, and so moved was he by their valour that he mustered all his might, and rode to Ungloth in the fullness of his strength. Timely did he come to the aid of Defurien, for few there were remaining of the Fiannar, and these were gathered behind a shield wall atop a hill of death, engulfed in foes one hundred-fold their numbers. But Micyll broke through the hordes of Unluvin, and so came to Defurien’s side, and they smiled in love for one another, as brothers in arms do, and together they held back the hosts of Darkness for many sailings of the sun.

  “In those days of blood and battle were many great deeds done. Eccuron slew Attametton, the Father of Dragons, with his own hand; Rafayel, Captain of the Folk of Micyll, threw down the Beast of Bazaal, and took its head; bold Hiridion of the Fiannar smote a kuarok into a ruin of ash; in mighty contest did Vallian bring Sithra, Lieutenant of Unluvin, to the end of her Tale. And Defurien fought as would Cothra, and none could stay him, and no foe would stand against him.

  “But alas, the forces of Unluvin were too many and overly strong. And for all their valour and courage, the Athair of Micyll and the Fiannar of Defurien knew their dooms had been decreed, that their Names were to be removed forever from the Tale. Under banners battered and bloodied, and beneath the battle-call of “Dooooom!”, they assembled for their own slaughter.

  “So it was that the black gates of Ungloth opened, and Unluvin came forth at last to claim his victory, for he felt there was nothing more to fear. In this alone did Unluvin err, for in his pride he deemed himself overmighty, that neither Ath nor Fian could assail him. And he found little cause for thought otherwise when first he strode, a great black shadow of iron and ruin, upon the fields of war.

  “The hammer of Unluvin broke the ranks of Athair and Fiannar alike, falling upon them with such force that might sunder the Earth, and none could withstand him, until he came at last to a place where Defurien stood alone. There did the Lord of the Fiannar meet the Lord of Darkness in battle, and long did they fight under moon and sun and star, and Defurien wounded Unluvin with many wounds. But mortal Defurien grew over-weary before a foe that did not tire, and his feet slowed, and Unluvin smote him a great blow that broke him, bone and body.

  “But Micyll was of the Athair, and among that shining people he was most mighty, and he knew neither fatigue nor fear. And Micyll fought his way to the side of Defurien, and having splintered his own blade he took up Defurien’s sword, and he drew Unluvin away from the smitten Lord of the Fiannar, that young Vallian might tend his father, or hear his last words should Defurien have been beyond recall of healing.

  “Athain King and fallen Hiath fought before the walls of Ungloth, and they fought on mountain peak and in ruined vale, in caverns deep and across storming skies, in fire and in sea, on plain and over bog and in forest aflame. Well-matched were Micyll and the Lord of Darkness in might and mettle, for the former was made strong with Light and righteous wrath, and the latter was bloated with hate and rage. But Unluvin had been sorely wounded in his felling of brave Defurien. Dear and costly had been the price paid for his besting of the Lord of the Fiannar, and from Unluvin’s many wounds his strength bled as lava from the shattered sides of a mountain. And the Earth quaked with the throes of the combat between Micyll and Unluvin, and split where they passed in mortal contest, until at last Micyll threw his foe into a great crack in the World, and pursued him down into darkness. And at the very heart of the Earth did Micyll at last cast Unluvin down, and stood above his foe in final blazing triumph.

  “And Unluvin begged Micyll to spare him, as a mongrel might beg a morsel of its master. But Micyll was mindful of Unluvin’s many dishonoured oaths, and was not moved by Unluvin’s cries for mercy, and with a mighty stroke of Defurien’s sword did he cleave through the ironbound neck of Unluvin, and he threw his foe’s severed head and rent body into the fires of the Earth’s heart. And the Earth devoured Unluvin, flesh and iron, until all that remained of him was the impotent ash of memory.

  “So passed Unluvin the Treacher from the Tale of First Earth. And the slaves of Shadow were bereft of the will that had commanded them, and they looked upon their foes so fell and so fair, and they knew fear, and they fled. The Athair and the Fiannar hunted them, until all that could be found were cleansed from the World, though some it is known escaped into the deepest places where their pursuers did not go.

  “Micyll, in triumph and glory, but also in great sorrow, came to the side of dying Defurien, and he kissed the brow of that noble Lord, and returned to him his sword, and wept. But Defurien smiled, as one relieved of a great burden, and with final fleeting breath did he bid farewell his wife and son and friends, and he passed into a sleep from which there would be no waking. So died Defurien, Father and First Lord of the Fiannar, the noblest soul ever to come into the Tale of the Three Earths.

  “Few there remained of the Athair, and of these many were gravely wounded, but most would heal with time and care. But the World itself could not be healed, and so there was a hollown
ess to their victory, and weary with woe and war and the cares of the broken World, the Athair of Micyll made ready to return to the Light whence they had come. For they were a people greatly beloved of the Teller, and he had bidden them return to his side, that they might bask in the Light for all eternity.

  “But to the Light the surviving Fiannar could not go, for they yet suffered under the Curse of Asrayal, and will do so until they pass forever from the Three Worlds. And so Vallian, Second Lord of the Fiannar, took leave of Micyll, the Last King of First Earth, and set sail with all that remained to him of his Deathward folk across the mists of time and the seas of space.

  “So it was that the Fiannar, the people of Defurien, came to the stony shores of Second Earth.”

  Axennus looked upon Caelle with the wonder-widened eyes of a child bedazzled. He fought to find his voice, and once found, fought to keep it from shaking with emotion.

  “Well-blessed am I, Shield Maiden, to be gifted with a tale of such tragic beauty.” He inclined his head reverently. “Once more do I find myself in your debt.”

  “And I say again, Ambassador Teagh,” replied the Fiann, “there are no debts among friends.”

  Axennus felt something small and soft and warm in the fold of his palm, and was pleasantly surprised to find that he yet held Caelle’s hand in his own.

  “And we are friends, Shield Maiden. Yes. The dearest of friends.”

  Caelle smiled beautifully, and gave his hand a gentle squeeze.

  “May there come a time that the tale be told of the friendship of Axennus of Hiridith and Caelle of the Fiannar.”

 

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