Servants and Followers (The Legends of Arria, Volume 2)

by Courtney Bowen

  “I am Monika, and I bind this Sword to me.” She said, grasping the hilt. “I need help now more than ever, oh gods and goddesses listening to me.” She said, bowing her head in prayer.

  “Can someone please explain to me…” Oaka started to say.

  “Swords of Arria, Oaka.” Fato frowned, considering everything that had happend to him and his friends on this trip. It was a strange turn of events, but perhaps he should have expected something like this to occur again.

  “Knights of Arria Swords?” Oaka asked after a short pause. “Swords that the Knights of Arria wielded? And we’ve got one?”

  “Two, Oaka.” Basha said. “Don’t forget mine from Coe Anji.” He remarked. “I knew that wasn’t its right name.”

  “Swords plural.” Oaka laughed. “You two have got the most powerful weapons in all of creation…” He gasped, leaning forward as he started to hyperventilate. “We have got…”

  “Breathe in and out, Oaka!” Fato called, trying to calm him down. “We’re going to get through this!” He insisted. “We will!”

  “Only one is in our hands.” Monika said, withdrawing the blue scabbard and the Blue Sword from the crack made in the cave floor by water dripping down, now that she was finished with her prayer. She had to get used to her new weapon, and the new identity that might come with it, if the lore was to be believed. The crest and trough of a wave could be seen in the shapes of the scabbard, and the Sword withdrawn from it. The hilt was made of leather dyed lapis lazuli and opal. She could hear the ocean chopping away at the shore, etching the landscape and herself into a different shape.

  She practiced the swing of the Sword, getting used to the idea that she possessed such a powerful weapon that seemed to be constantly moving, never still, with what lurked beneath its surface. How the water swelled and retreated with the constant turning of the Earth, the force that seemed to make everything go down, or come back up again with the swing. She was amazed by, and relished such a power. It belonged to her.

  “We have got to get the other one back from Lord Fobata and Captain Goga.” Monika said, sheathing the Blue Sword before she was tempted to use it for real. She had that feeling of never being still, of always hiding who she truly was, even from those she trusted most. She wanted to stop fighting, and be still for once.

  “I’ll get it!” Gnat cried, rushing off towards the cave mouth. Gnat had listened to everything that was happening in amazement, and wanted to be a part of it somehow. This was her chance.

  “Are you sure?” Basha started to say, turning around.

  “Please, Basha.” Gnat said, turning back towards him. “If it’s that important, we can’t let it get into their hands.” She said, “I’ll fetch it back, don’t worry,” as she started to climb out.

  “Hurray for Gnat!” Fato cried, flapping his wings.

  “Be careful!” Basha called out to the servant girl, and then sat down to wait once she was gone. There was nothing else he could do. Oaka started to calm down for a moment.

  “You knew, Monika.” Basha accused her. “You knew it was a Sword, my Sword, and this…” He waved at the Blue Sword she held. “You knew it was here, didn’t you?”

  “I didn’t know. Or at least I didn’t know that this Sword was here until just before I got into the cave mouth,” Monika said, indicating her Blue Sword, “And then I guessed that your Sword was...but I didn’t know exactly.” Monika explained.

  “You knew it was…” Oaka gasped again.

  “Breathe in, Oaka, don’t lose it again!” Fato cried. “And please stop blaming her for everything,” Fato told Oaka as Fato and Oaka started arguing with each other again, except quietly this time around. (“I don’t blame her for everything,” Oaka said. “You do, Oaka.” Fato insisted. “Only for what she has done.” “What has she done?” “Kept secrets from us!” Oaka cried. and so forth.)

  Basha shook his head. “Which Sword is it, the one I have?” He asked.

  “The Black Sword, I imagine,” Monika whispered.

  “What does that mean?” Basha asked.

  “The Black Sword of Death.” Monika said, louder as Fato’s and Oaka’s fight esclated. “Tau’s Sword it was nicknamed.”

  “You knew it was a Sword of Arria!” Oaka cried, accusing Fato. “You knew they were both Swords of Arria!”

  “What?” Both Basha and Monika said, turning around.

  “I didn’t…I might have…recognized them.” Fato said, clearing his throat. “I do have my animal instincts, after all, and I definitely could feel something coming off of them, the magical power they contained, especially with the Black Sword. The Black Sword felt terrible to me, especially when Basha was using it, back in the warehouse. The Blue Sword is not as bad as the Black Sword, at least to me. I can stand it, but I can still feel that water power.” He insisted.

  “That’s why you were shrieking so much back at the warehouse.” Basha remarked, staring at the bird as he remembered its reaction during the fight.

  “But there’s more, isn’t there?” Oaka asked. “Your sense of perception couldn’t tell you that these things were specifically Swords of Arria. You knew when I didn’t.”

  “You can’t figure anything out!” Fato cried.

  “You knew, but I didn’t, and I could feel the Blue Sword just now, just the same as you can. I could feel the water!” Oaka cried. “I could feel the water, pushing against me like the tide, and I could feel the death coming off of Basha’s Sword, back at the warehouse, although I had no clue what it was properly then.” He said. “It just felt wrong, cold, disturbing. Something that I could never forget.”

  The others fell silent. Basha stared at his older brother and stepped forward, almost wishing that he could comfort Oaka. Whatever the Black Sword was, it wasn’t him. He had only used it because he needed it back in the warehouse. He almost wished that he had not picked it up. Almost, because he might still need it.

  “I have seen at least one other Sword of Arria,” Fato admitted, turning to them, “Back in Coe Kiki. About ten years ago, before I was born, they were doing some digging or cleaning near the old fortress on the palace grounds, and they found the Brown Sword, the Sword of Earth, either buried beneath the soil or beneath some possessions in a basement. There was a bit of an uproar amongst the noblemen over who owned or could claim the Brown Sword as their own, although I don’t know why. They did some research, and passed on the Sword to a young nobleman named Pacaben, who was knighted a few years later. Sir Pacaben.” Fato remarked.

  The group gaped at Fato. “We didn’t know they had found a Sword in Coe Kiki!” Basha gasped. “We thought they were all lost!”

  “Well, it was sort of hushed-up.” Fato remarked. “Most of the noblemen who were living in Coe Kiki at the time of the Sword’s discovery became aware of the fact, or at least the rumor of its existence. But those higher up, all the way to King Sonnagh himself, didn’t want to spread the word amongst common people and foreigners, to protect Pacaben’s identity and keep this weapon a secret in case they needed to use it. So they dispelled the fact as much as possible. However, that secret sort of has been leaking out over the last few months, especially when Sir Pacaben has been showing off the Sword.” Fato scoffed. “Idiot. It was only a matter of time before even you people in Coe Baba would have heard of it. Your friends and family members probably know about it now.”

  The others glanced at each other, uncertain about what this could mean to their possession of the Black and Blue Swords, if somebody else in Coe Kiki could claim them.

  “Say, Monika,” Oaka started to say, deciding to change the subject, “The Black Sword of Death, how could it be called Tau’s Sword? Wouldn’t it be Loqwa’s, and why would it be a god’s sword in the first place if it is a Knight’s Sword?”

  “What does that have to do with anything?” Fato asked Oaka.

  “The Swords are associated with the gods because…the first thing you three should know about magic is that magic is performed using ten elemen
ts,” Monika said, “Which are bone, stone, earth, air, water, plant, fire, spirit, shadow and death.” She recited quickly.

  The two young men and the falcon repeated her words slowly, trying to remember the elements so that they would be prepared in case such knowledge proved important. Monika reminded them of a few once or twice, and then added, “Ten of the gods are each associated with one element that falls under their domain. Dalan is bone, as he is the god of animals…”

  “Woo-hoo! Dalan has an element!” Fato cried, thrusting a wing up into the air.

  “Whoop-de-do and hullabaloo,” Oaka said sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

  “And the god of the body, one might say.” Monika continued. “Popo is the god of stone, as he molded the mountains. Qei is the god of the harvest and farmers, so he is the god of the earth, as he tends to the earth so that it might be fit for the seed. Then…”

  “So Tau is Death?” Basha asked, jumping ahead. “I still don’t understand, why wouldn’t it be spirit, or…”

  “Loqwa is spirit because he leads the dead into the underworld. He protects the dead, and it is even said he leads the dead out to be reborn in new bodies.” Monika said.

  “New bodies?” Oaka scoffed. “That’s not what I heard. The dead stay dead, end of discussion.”

  “It’s a common belief in places like Kiwata and Angora.” Fato said before Monika had a chance to speak. “Sometimes in Pinal and Pakka as well.”

  “He’s right about that.” Monika said, slightly surprised Fato was so knowledgeable.

  “Why would it be like this?” Oaka asked. “Why would people get reborn?”

  “It gives people, or animals, a second chance at life, in case they did something wrong or weren’t perfect.” Fato said. “I would like to believe that I had a previous life before I was stuck here with this one,” He muttered, glancing at Oaka. “Traveling with you.”

  “Death itself is the realm of the mortal, of nature.” Monika said, trying to ignore the pair. “Loqwa does not take away life, he only acts after it is gone. Men and nature cause death.” She said. “Tau is associated with death because he is the king of the gods, the most powerful god, who created humans and gave us mortality in the process. He also gives power to kings and leaders that decide who lives and who dies, and nature…Tau is the god of thunder and lightning, and causes other disasters. What could be more powerful than that in nature?” Monika asked.

  Basha shuddered. It seemed almost disturbing to think of the creator god, the most powerful god, as also the ‘death’ god, the one that brought about misery and torture, although there was one legend…maybe it was true, then. And he had held the Death Sword, wielded the Black Sword, Tau’s Sword? He had used it to maim, possibly kill those smugglers? Did it really have a touch of Tau’s power in it? Was this why the Knights of Arria were so powerful, feared by their enemies, able to claim and take over a kingdom? It was rumored the Swords of Arria could split a mountain, especially if they were combined. Did they really have the powers of the gods in them?

  “What is wrong with…why are you still traveling with us?” Oaka asked Fato.

  “You were probably a monkey or a rat in a previous lifetime!” Fato told Oaka.

  “Forget it,” Oaka said, turning to Monika. “Do you know magic then?” He asked.

  “Well, a little bit.” She said, turning away from him.

  “I have…” Oaka hesitated, and then was silent for a moment. It was difficult to see him in the darkness, as sunlight started to fade above, but then there was a flash of light. They could feel warmth from the flames. Monika gasped and leaned towards Oaka, as Fato, startled, flapped away from him.

  “Couldn’t you give a bird a word of warning next time!” Fato cried.

  “Whoops, sorry,” Oaka said sarcastically, as flames burned on the tips of his right hand fingers before he turned to Monika. “So this is what I have. Menthar’s power, right?”

  “Right, the power of fire.” Monika sighed, staring at him.

  “Not exactly your favorite god, am I right? How did I get it in the first place?” Oaka asked. “And how do I get rid of it forever?”

  “You can control it, right?” Basha asked, staring at his brother. He remembered the fire Oaka had started at the militia tryouts, igniting his and Hastin’s wooden swords, frightening the townspeople, but Basha had not been afraid of Oaka. In fact, he had wanted to protect his brother from the townspeople’s wrath. He had known then, or suspected, that Oaka had a bit of magic in him, but he had not questioned it. In fact, he had always known Oaka had some magic in him, from the way he acted, laughed, and sang. Oaka had that attitude about him that conveyed the sort of magic charming people had. Basha had never really thought he had any of that power inside of him.

  “I think so. It started…” Oaka sighed. The flames flickered, growing stronger and weaker with Oaka’s speech and thoughts. “It started around the time I got really serious with Sisilia, like a year or so ago. It happens every time I lose control of my temper, like when I’m really angry, or when I get...really passionate,” He cleared his throat, and remarked, “It usually lays dormant at other times. I can control it, restrain the power completely if I try to control and calm myself down. Lose the temper, cool my passion, that sort of thing. At other times, I can...concentrate, perhaps, and expel some of the power on my own if I want, to a specific target. Call upon my temper or my passion to help me out a little bit, like I did with Hastin at the militia tryouts.” Oaka remarked. “I think I can do it.” He said, staring at the flames. “I didn’t use it against Goga because I was afraid and I didn’t want him to know what I could do. And I didn’t know how to use it with the Black Wolves.”

  “Whoa, Oaka, I…” Fato laughed nervously. “Nice to have you on our side.” He said.

  “Thanks, bird.” Oaka muttered.

  “So how you got it in the first place,” Monika said. “Generally it is passed down through generations, from mothers and fathers to their offspring.” She said.

  “Blame your mother!” Fato exclaimed and laughed.

  “But as to getting rid of it, you can’t, not really.” Monika said. “You have to learn how to control it. You might be able to shrink it down, repress it for a very long time, years even, but eventually it will pop up again.” She said.

  Oaka closed his eyes, and Basha could well imagine what he was thinking: who was to blame? His mother Habala or his father Geda? If it was a family trait, who had the fire in them? The flames faded completely away from Oaka’s hands then, and the cave felt colder and darker without them.

  “We never knew, Monika.” Basha said, turning to her. “We never knew our parents…wait a minute.” He said. “Do you think I had power in my family?”

  Monika shrugged. “As to that, I don’t know, Basha. I don’t know about your parents, if they had power, and if the Black Sword is really your power, death, then do you have any of that power within you?” She asked.

  “I don’t know. Maybe.” Basha whispered, remembering what Iibala had said to him that fateful night, just before he proposed to Jawen…‘you have death hidden within you, nothingness.’ But he did not think…could it be true that he had death hidden within him? He did not fear the darkness of night sometimes, but he feared something more sinister lurking within him. He did not want that nothingness. And how did Iibala know that he had such power when he didn’t at the time?

  “Where is Gnat? What’s taking her so long?” Fato cried.

  Gnat snuck back in through the hole in the curtain wall, excited at the prospect of helping her new friends, especially Basha, whom she admired more than she could say. But it was also the prospect of doing something worthwhile and important that excited her, as she had been longing for this opportunity for a long time. Ever since Janus had latched onto her when he first arrived in Coe Aela, she had been waiting for the chance to prove his trust in her.

  He had seen her lurking in the corners, quiet and diminutive to avoid being noticed by Captai
n Goga and some of the other servants who would beat her whenever she was unsatisfactory in her chores, or whenever they just felt like it. Immediately he had asked her if she was willing to join in his rebellion against Lord Fobata. Gnat had been shocked at first at the idea of rebelling, afraid of what would happen to her if she was caught in such a conspiracy, but Janus had convinced her as well as dozens of other servants that it was the right thing to do.

  Lord Fobata was a traitor, he said, a Follower of Doomba who had turned against King Sonnagh and Arria. And he promised them that if they escaped Coe Aela and went to Coe Kiki, they would find better treatment elsewhere, especially if they told the king the terrible things Lord Fobata had done to them and others. All they would have to do in this rebellion was to spread the word to the other servants they trusted, and be prepared to march out of Coe Aela when the time was right and everything was ready. Gnat didn’t know for certain at the time if what Janus had said was true, but she had wanted to believe it, and trusted Janus, and now she was certain it was true.

  Gnat had done her part to assist Janus in delivering messages to the other servants, and even volunteered to hold a sword if they needed to fight on the way out of Coe Aela. But instead he had given her drumsticks and a drum to play, teaching her the simple rhythm of a march. He told her she was too young to fight, but he needed someone who would ‘lead them from lowly servants to true citizens’, or something like that, a drummer who would help them stand tall. She didn’t quite understand or accept what he had to say, but she knew he wanted her to stay safe, so she had accepted the drum. She would fight another day.

  She went through the west bailey, the cracked, dry fountains in mourning for the water that would never flow through them again, and entered the front bailey. As she neared the stables, she stopped at the sight of a familiar figure standing at its opening—Goga. She slipped into the kennels, quieted the dogs that threatened to bark, and slid down to hide herself amidst the warm, furry bodies, tongues lolling as they lied on the ground or peered out through the fence, occasionally going to drink some water at the trough or munch on some dinners scraps.