"My husband has come to put great store by what Omun does. Many of the blacksmiths in the town do."
"He is a far more powerful aid in this world than you think. Protect him." The old woman poured some brottrunk for herself and drank it down. "So, my child, how has your spinning and weaving been?"
"That is what I came to you about Great Mother. I need some of your weaving materials. Uwain has surmised that he and the other chieftains in the south are on their own. I want them be victorious over the Ohdrufrid. It will come to war. I feel it. but I need your weaving materials."
"I will give you all that you need and hurry back. I met Uwain and his party some days ago in the wood. I said to them that you will be having visitors soon enough. Visitors from far away. I perceive that one with them has a special destiny. Tell the men do not molest these men nor harm them. Take them in if possible and be generous. It will go well with the people if this is done. And do not forget Idwil, child, to make the bread drink before you set yourself to weaving. It will give strength and clarity of mind where you need it."
. . .
They were guests - and prisoners. Thane Uwain had a very large house, the Great House, made of timber and stone and inside was covered in great thick fur rugs and hangings. In the great hall burned a fire. Hounds bayed at their presence when they had rode into town. People stopped to gawk at them, or eyed the new men with suspicion. There were not many smiles among the onlookers. There were, to their own shock, a few giants among the Grunholders, most taller than Injol. Injol gave the chieftain a sidelong glance at seeing them. There were two other men there that looked very much like the men of Rapheth's company. And an inquisitive young man named Moraven.
"Here are two men that fled with me during that dark time when Queen Taliat overthrew Khalit's court. Ruz, the eunuch to the royal harem and his brother Omun. Omun is a Golden Alchemist and swordsmith. If you can find a way to make yourselves useful I may have less trouble with my men in keeping you here."
"I perceive there is a war brewing." Said Parso.
"Perceptive. We came from dark times in Hybron only to have them fall upon us here. I have business but I shall be back. There is much I miss about Hybron." A woman, heavily pregnant was sitting in a chair in the front room weaving a cloak. She wore her long, strawberry blond hair in a braid coiled once around her head while then the rest hung down her back. Her blue eyes were piercing and unflinching but not unkind.
"Who are these men, husband?" She asked.
"This is my wife Idwil, the lady of the house. Idwil, these men travel with a prince." Uwain said casting a glance upon Rapheth. "They, like I did years before, fled Hybron but are looking to make their way back home."
"It would seem Hybron is casting off its people left and right. I hope you men do not find Dyrland too cold a clime."
"No lady." Said Parso gently.
"I thank you, my lady Idwil and your husband for your hospitality." Said Rapheth.
"Supper shall be made in a few hours. Ruz and Omun show them their quarters for the time being." Said Uwain. Then he left.
"The Great Mother said there would be strange visitors." Said Moraven excitedly. The woman put a slender finger to her lips to quiet him. She had them fed, a supper of roasted beef and roots and boiled potatoes and a thick rye-bread with butter. They, in turn, having nothing much but the wild boar they had killed made some of this as a gift to the house, of which she graciously accepted. She left the men in the great hall to eat and drink to their content, lighting the front hall with candles and a few lanterns for light. The outside the immediate perimeter of the light faded into shadow and darkness. They could hear rain, mixed with snow, coming down hard upon the rooftops as they ate in silence.
Moraven stayed with them, pouring them a freshly brewed beer from the kitchen, curious about the new visitors. Ruz and Omun were the happiest they had ever been to see men from the Middle World Kingdoms after years of exile.
"You!" Ruz stared at Rapheth. "You are the one Zigal took, saved from death. You are Khalit's heir."
"I am King Khalit's son. I speak the truth."
'Then the serpent queen was your mother." Said Omun.
"She was."
"How did you make it to manhood?"
"God only knows. The first queen's maidservant stole me away. She raised me as her own and I was raised under Ilim the prophet."
"The prophet. I knew of him. Used to listen to him speak. Is he still alive? Or did they finally catch him?" Asked Omun.
"He was still alive when we fled. Now, I do not know. I pray that he is." Rapheth had not given Ilim's possible capture and death much thought. Pain jabbed his bowls to even think of it. It had always been possible. Ilim had often said his work was dangerous.
"She sent tinmak scorpions to kill us and to capture Rapheth." Said Shukala. Omun made a whistling sound through his teeth at Rapheth.
"Tinmak. That's black business," he said.
"You know what those things are?" Asked Shukala.
"I know something about alchemy and I have seen what those things can do. Those things were built to kill in secret. They are mechanical assassins. One form of them, anyway."
"So, how did you two find yourselves here?" Asked Rhajit after a coughing fit.
"Well," began Ruz, "When it was found that Zigal had fled and the baby was gone it was surmised that she took him. Before that the first queen had asked me to send Zigal a message. I will never forget the look upon her face. Stricken, knowing her doom was near is the only way I can explain it. I feared for her but could do nothing. Right before the queen was alerted of the missing baby," he looked at Rapheth and then he smiled, "I fled. It was the night after Zigal had fled. I sensed I would be killed along with all of the king's and Lady Diti's closest and most loyal servants. I fled by the servant's quarters. One man tried to stop me and inform on me and I had to kill him and hide his body into the tunnels. I went to Omun's house to stay. But one week later, at night, Black Alchemists came for us."
"Why?"
"The queen had quietly ushered in some of them from the Black Guild of Thaumaturgists and Alchemists of Egium into the land and they meant to establish themselves as the eminent guild in Hybron, the fist behind the throne. The queen herself, though not a Black Alchemist in name, knew a great deal of their arts in poisons and venoms. Their intentions are far-reaching and they work toward their goal patiently over decades. People do not know what they are about until it is too late. They do not want to see the White or the Gold to take hold either. Anyone practicing alchemy that was not part of the Black Guild in Hybron had to flee for their lives. All this is secret, mind you. Most of the people do not know this."
"Dear gods." Said Baudolino. "It is just like in my own land. They are trying to take over, town by town. I dare say they nearly have."
"The world is becoming far darker than I imagined it would. The dark gods are active in the world." Said Ruz. He glanced at Rapheth again. "But you are determined to go back?"
"If one has nowhere else to go one must face the demons at home and destroy them. Hybron is my destiny. I will cast the evil there out. And bring back all that was good in Assenna. Like Alchemy used for good purpose. Men like you would be respected and play an important role there. Men like the Black alchemists would be severely punished. Not rewarded." This brightened the mood of the two brothers even more.
"How?" Asked Omun and Ruz together.
"I need an army. How I will get one I do not know, yet. I can only trust that a way will be found to either find one or build one."
"It seems a sad day when a boy of prophecy is chased from his own land when he should be ruling it. What has happened?"
"The serpent queen is dead." Said Rhajit.
"Now her uncle rules." Said Ephron.
"So what is happening here?" Asked Shukala. "I hear reports of monstrous things." Moraven cleared his throat. The others, nearly forgetting his presence all turned toward the direction of his voice.
"
You are in the land of Dyrland. The Ohdrufrid and the Wodrufrid have risen again and are attacking the people. The Ohdrufrid and Wodrufrid are races of giants." He glanced at Injol as he said this. "I suppose they are not the only races of giants in the world. The Ohdrufrid are from the south and the Wodrufrid from the west. Long ago they left the first ways and served other gods. Evil ones. Many of our people followed them but some centuries ago Elufern the Wise convinced the people to turn away from these dark ways, which displeased the gods. It displeased the giants as well for they themselves were worshiped as demi-gods. When the gift offerings and sacrifices stopped it enraged them and we have been fighting with them ever since. Or fleeing. Over the years many southern Dyrlanders have been killed by the giants or by the other tribes in the north. We were once a vast and mighty people. No more. We are afraid of dwindling. Even though we are cousin and kin to some in the giant clans, as you might have seen some of them have intermarried with our people, we did not have much hope until Omun came. Omun has a skill that may turn the tide against the giants for good."
"What is that?" asked Rapheth.
"The swords he makes are unlike anything we have ever seen. Light as water, stronger than iron, much stronger, and durable as rock. They even seem to sing through the air. Magical things! These swords are becoming legendary in the land. Every fighting man wants one and the Great Thane has ordered that not just the chieftains and thanes have them but every fighting man must have these swords. Perhaps I might have one some day." The young man said hopefully, looking at Omun.
"If the Great Thane has spoken it, it will be done to the best of my ability." Said Omun. "Every man in this town shall have a sword to defend his home, his family, his life. Those were the Thane's words."
"That important? That every man must have a sword?" Asked Baudolino.
"Oh yes. It is a grand undertaking. It is about survival. I think we can all understand the need for survival." Said Ruz hopefully. "Including the king. Soon we will be summoned before him. I think the king has called for a war council."
"Swords that sing. That is what we need in Hybron." Said Rapheth.
"I wish that I could help you but most of my brothers and kin that practice the Golden work use the soft metals. Gold. Silver and bronze." Said Baudolino.
"We can muster up men, gather them to you." said Rhajit.
"How can that be? From where will they come from?" Said Omun.
"They will come from God."
"Well, many say that. Khalit said he was the hand of God and so did his queen. Look what happened there."
"But Hybron is our home. It was not their home. We do not fit in here and not all these men are happy about our presence. We are outlanders." Said Rapheth.
"I have been here for some years. I am doing quite well." Said Omun.
"Where is your wife then?" Asked Ephron. Omun's face darkened. Rapheth boldly took this opportunity to expand on the matter.
"A man is nothing without a wife and children to carry on his name and his trade. Being men who are aliens in the land what man will allow you to marry his daughters here? If you could put that knowledge to use in my cause, corruption would end. I am the king's son. I belong on the throne of Hybron." Omun did not look convinced but he said nothing more on the subject.
"Still, it is good to see men like me." He said.
"The singing swords. I believe the magic is in the alloy, is it not?" Asked Parso. Omun's attention snapped to him.
"Yes. I hesitate to say more. . .are you an alchemist?"
"I am not but I met some great ones in my travels. I will not press you if you do not want to reveal it, but such a weapon would surely seem magical to those who have weaker swords." Omun's eyes lit up and he nodded. He gave Parso and Baudolino a knowing look.
"Where have you traveled?" asked Moraven.
"Many places. Such as Qutan, Tisran, Funda, Egi, Volgur and other places besides." Said Parso.
"Many things in the world that seem like magic when they are more closely examined are really some clever machine or invention." Said Baudolino.
"A leap in the knowledge of man that some have not yet acquired." Said Parso. "Like the chilyabe, those great thaumaturgic devices of old." He added. "It is so strange to me, though. What could possibly be more powerful than iron. Iron turns the whole red world."
"There are things stronger than iron but they are made of iron, so iron remains. I will tell you a secret I should not, but no one is here from the guild to stop me. Will you be offended Baudolino?"
"I am of the White, not the Gold, my friend. Speak away."
"The metal these new swords I have created are made from an alloy of iron. It is called stel, or, steel. I first learned the technique from a Hidushian blacksmith."
"I have never heard of it." Said Parso.
"Steel is made from iron. That is what gives the steel its strength. It is a new metal I tell you. Created it quite by accident. I know of no other alchemist-smiths in ancient times that created it. They all used iron or bronze. But this is the thing to create a new age." His eyes were wide and lit with a fire within when talking about his craft.
Rapheth listened quietly and took it all in and then his mind made a leap in understanding though he knew nothing of alchemy. The land in the north of Hybron was in certain places littered with rock; iron rock from the heavens. If he could convince Omun to come with him back home or find a skilled swordsmith like him, a group of them, such prized and special iron rock that fell from the celestial palaces could make swords of this new alloy unlike anything else in the world. If only he could see a way to build an army. The First Pillar will see to it, somehow. He did not see it yet, but if a way was made. . .
. . .
The town of Grunhold was a large town. Its buildings were wide, stout and made of the timber of the surrounding forests. The larger more important homes were also made with gray stone and rock. Most had chimneys constantly seeping smoke. It was built in two semi-circles, with the largest and most important buildings and homes near the epicenter and at the very center there was the market. There were some outlying homes but most were ensconced firmly behind Grunhold's thick wooden walls; great logs fastened together with pitch. It seemed like a little oasis in the middle of a great sea of dark green, red and black trees. Thane Uwain's house was imposing but not frightening. It was warm in its darkness of wood and wools and rugs of furs, thick tapestries that decorated the walls and kept the cold out of the great lodge. Most rooms in this house had a hearth. The men sat and talked and caught each other up on events as they saw and knew them in Hybron. Moraven came again with another cask of the deep, dark strong beer.
The Thane had come back and joined them at supper. Uwain, now comfortable and at table, he spoke of his time in Hybron under the house of King Khalit. How he, the youngest son of his father was driven from his own home by his stepmother after his father fell ill and was on death's door. His folk had succumbed to the ways and the influences of the giants and when he refused to follow them they would not take him in. One night while out in the cold sleeping under a large hollowed-out tree, she, working with the Ohdrufrid, sought his blood. He fled for his life and did not stop until he reached the Pirvuk, near Oshen, the high north land at the end of the Snowflake River. From there he traveled with traders headed south and with them he learned how to fight. His adventures with them led him to Hybron where he proved himself valiant and mighty during the summer games and races on the outskirts of Hybron back when they still held such games. He had impressed Khalit so that he brought him on as a Queen's guard. There he met the Queen Diti. He had fallen in love with her but knew this could mean death and kept his feelings to himself. He was a fair and red man in a desert sun country. A stranger there in many ways but it was a life he did not regret. He once again had to flee when upheaval happened. It started when Zarammelech and Aquilam had come back from the battle to make a report. He had never got along with the new queen and her people her father brought from Egi and hearin
g nothing but bad things coming from Egi did not help matters. He had hated that Khalit put Diti aside, a virtuous and good queen if ever there was once. He saw doom coming when he heard the word that the king was putting her away. After Taliat's father died under mysterious circumstances he was on full alert for danger. Not long after Lady Diti had died. Fallen from her balcony window. Or, in his opinion and the opinions of many others, was assassinated. When he'd heard that the king was killed in battle he took his leave secretly. He'd met Ruz and his brother by accident in a port town, who were also in hiding. Omun had some money and Uwain had a destination so they all went off together traveling to Dyrland, Ruz and Omun needing to get far away from the Black Guild of Thaumaturgists and Alchemists.
Uwain's folk, the Eostur, like the Gilphaens in Egi, were very much related to the giants in long lineage. Long ago some had intermarried and mated with giants and some Dyrlanders had the blood in them as well. Some still kept this practice so that a few Dyrlanders had giants as mates. These giants, of Ohdrufrid or Wodrufrid blood but had left the ways of their kinfolk were called simply Drufrid, meaning giants. These were friendly and allies with the Dyrlander folk. Which was why so many Dyrlanders were tall, strong people. Giant blood flowed through them.
Arnulf played softly upon his lute as they all sat in front of the fire nibbling meat or sipping beer when they all heard a sound that curdled the blood. At first it sounded like drums beating, groaning and then a high pitched wail that ascended into a scream, then another. These yet were far away but close enough to be heard.
"What in the red world was that?" Asked Baudolino. Everyone fell silent.
"The Ohdrufrid. On certain nights when the moons are black, closed against the night's face they creep around in the woods. They are far away, farther than the last time." Said Uwain. He wondered now if it would be wise to even leave. He had so much to worry over. If they were planning another attack soon he could never leave the town nor could his men. His hounds, sitting at his feet at his big chair, growled, low and ominous. The Ohdrufrid were planning something great and terrible. This was the third time they chanted, venturing from their mountain caves when not making war on some town or village.
Red World Trilogy Page 88