“The Enchanter does not want it.”
Yiddin cleared his throat. “My Lord Vallorin, I believe you need elaborate on this ancient crime. As Teroux said, they are not unhappy to have you remain in power, but a crime? It will not go down well.” He lowered his voice. “Something like that leads swiftly to revolution.”
“I am aware, Yiddin, and shall now address it. Restore calm, please.” As Yiddin raised voice and staff, Torrullin bid the heirs stand with him. “The truth I tell them now is the same I would give you.”
They stood beside him as silence returned laden with curiosity.
“Valleur, I have a tale to tell. A long time ago during the Epoch of the Dancing Suns a man stood forward and claimed unassailable power. He did this because he possessed a dual nature. He was a master sorcerer and enchanter, and he fashioned a golden seat as symbol. He entered a symbiosis with a dragon. His name was Nemisin.
“Now, Nemisin was not a bad man, on the contrary, for he was a great ruler, benevolent, and took his people to great heights, and yet he was also frustrated, and frustration led to doubt.”
The silence had a bated breath quality.
“The Valleur were alone in the universe and how was a ruler to prove a Throne and a Dragon symbol were the tools to a hereditary succession? There was no enemy; why, therefore, his obsession with future generations? Yes, he was a seer, and thus he could explain what he saw of the future, and he was an enchanter, which meant nobody would challenge him, but it was not sufficient. He needed to prove danger, prove why the Throne was imperative, why the Dragon needed to be passed from Valla to Valla. He needed to have his people trust his visions.
“Few know of this, and it came to my attention only recently. Nemisin, by virtue of his symbiosis, could manipulate time, a Kallanon talent gifted by Neolone. He did so. He moved forward and discovered a powerful race, a cultured people who understood the concept royalty, loyalty, continuity, war and peace, as did the Valleur. Perfect.
“At the time of this discovery that race was in conflict, but not against each other, against the destructive forces of nature - a distinction Nemisin chose to ignore. He revealed to the Elders frantic activity, major ship building, supply gathering, units of men crisscrossing the world to warn people of coming danger, and he told them they prepared to attack Akhavar.
“He did not explain another distinction - that it was generations into the future. He needed an enemy, he found an ‘enemy’, and while it was a desire to ensure strong leadership, it was wrong. He took an army of thousands in a pre-emptive strike and left no one alive. After, Throne, Dragon and Valla were one, and still are. The Dragon remains part of us.”
Torrullin waved behind him at the symbol on both Throne and wall. “That act of selfish terror, while it worked for the Valleur, has reverberated through the ages.”
“How?” Tianoman asked.
“A good question.” Torrullin stepped off the dais to whisper to Sophi nearby.
She nodded and left the chamber. Curious eyes followed her. Torrullin returned to his place.
“Akhavar is Nemisin’s world, renewed by the efforts of my wife. I would like to think, had she not done so, none of this would have come to light, and you would now have a new Vallorin. That is not so. Saska is not the instrument of redress; I am. Akhavar, first world, Valaris, last world, and who connects them? I do. Then there is the matter of the slaughtered race. They were known as the Diluvans of Orb. Orb is now called Sanctuary, and who connects Sanctuary to this? Again, I do.”
He paused, noticing Sophi return. She carried a pitcher of water and a goblet, which she handed to him.
“Thank you.” He poured, drank deep, and she retreated to be ready if he desired more. “Nemisin did not annihilate the Diluvans entirely, for he arrived after a few left via ship to discover a new world, one without the vagaries of nature plaguing them. They found it and called it Luvanor.”
“Pardon?” Yiddin blurted.
“Yes, the Luvans were once Diluvan. Luvanor is another Valleur world, settled later, because of the Valla Dragon. We come full circle. Akhavar, Valaris, Sanctuary and Luvanor, connected, and at the head of that connection and with the power to affect redress stands one man.” He smiled. “I can do it, you know.”
Light laughter rippled through the gathered.
“It does not explain the lack of decision on the Throne’s part,” Presario remarked.
“It made a decision, Elder. It decided we must right a wrong. Then is the future secure.”
Vanar spoke next. “How would it know?”
“Come, Vanar. It was there. It knows.”
“Granted,” she muttered. “Why at this juncture?”
“Juncture is a good word. So is junction. We do stand at a crossroads …” Torrullin glanced at Tianoman, whose name, among others, meant ‘crossroad’. “Why now? The Sagorin would tell you because ‘the time is now’.”
General laughter. The Sagorin were known to speak those words often, given that they erred on the side of fate.
Le Maximillian Dalrish said, “A great tale, Torrullin, mind boggling. However, it occurs to me, if the crime, for it was a crime, reverberates to this day, fixing it will do the same into the future?”
Valleur eyes swivelled back to Torrullin as they awaited his answer.
“In a manner of speaking, yes. The future would be smoothed over by this ‘fixing’. One of these young men will be Vallorin without conditions attached, able to rule without looking over his shoulder. That is something worthy. On the other hand, a major tweak of the past could completely change everything. If we save the Diluvans, where does that leave the Luvans and, subsequently, the Senlu? Sanctuary would now be out of bounds; Akhavar would probably die a slow death, along with the Valleur. You could be on Xen, but Valaris may vanish into obscurity, and no one alive will know the difference. The Valleur will not be. Every memory and every year would dissipate as if it never was.”
Max blanched, and Valleur lost all complacency.
“This crime must be redressed at the time it happened, and that is disastrous to history. Thus, it will be redressed in another realm where it cannot influence this present or anyone’s future.”
“My Lord?” Yiddin blurted, more shocked than before.
“Do not be surprised, Elder; this is not without precedent. Of course, I cannot measure the length of absence, but I intend to be away for as brief a period as possible, as long as it takes to find a solution.”
“How does that help us?” Sirlasin demanded.
“It will know,” Torrullin said, gesturing at the Throne. “And once it knows, we go on.”
“That would change the parallel,” Tianoman murmured.
“Very intuitive, Tianoman. The simple answer is - I hope so.”
“Gods,” someone muttered.
Torrullin straightened, a pose they knew from experience heralded more serious news.
“Tristan, Teroux and Tianoman will accompany me. It is also a journey of knowing. They return then with full knowledge of what happened and it will aid the Throne in a final and unassailable choosing of leader. I am your Vallorin and this is my command. Yiddin and Vanar will go on as heads of the Elder council as they have for twenty-five years. Luvanor will be headed by Presario and Volute, and Akhavar has its fourteen. Aismonn and Mariner, I appoint you as dual heads. Sanctuary has its system and the Kaval will oversee. I leave the four connected worlds in good hands. You won’t miss us …” He grinned at their shock. “... for we won’t be gone long.”
Someone laughed.
Torrullin added, “It has been a coronation with a difference, but I am happy to see many familiar faces, and thank all for coming. The result was unexpected, but we secure our future and that, friends, is cause for celebration. Don’t you think?”
“I could use a drink!” a young man’s voice sang out.
Laughter, then, and less tension than earlier.
“When are you leaving, my Lord?” Elder Atkir asked.
“To
morrow, hopefully without a hangover,” Torrullin smiled. Then, before he released them to festivity, “Saska will be with us.” He paused and found her in the crowd with Caballa beside her. “Caballa, you also.”
She nodded as if she knew, which she likely did. Torrullin glanced at Vanar.
“This farspeaker Rose - she is coming. Have her brought to the Keep without delay. I want to meet her.”
“Is that wise?” Vanar whispered.
“That is not the issue.”
Vanar bowed.
“Now, everyone, have a good time!” Torrullin stepped off the dais and made his way to the side exit.
Yiddin caught up with him there.
“My Lord? The Throne?”
“It stays uncloaked, Yiddin, as a reminder.” He gripped the man’s shoulder. “Ease their minds, my friend. I am not hunting darak fallen this time. I know, here,” and he thumped his chest, “this must be done or we shall not rest easy again.”
Yiddin smiled. “We trust you.”
“This journey earns every trust, Yiddin.”
The Elder bowed and left his Vallorin’s side.
Torrullin vanished through the side arch, seeking unquestioning silence.
Chapter 42
Sacred; worthy of reverence or respect; venerable
Profane; showing contempt or irreverence towards sacred things; blasphemous
~ Titania Dictionary
Valaris
The Keep
MUCH WAS SAID, MORE was discussed, meeting after meeting.
Offworld heads of state begged audience, to check status quo meant what it implied. Kings and queens came to give personal greetings, as was tradition between royal rulers. Max Dalrish questioned exhaustively. Forty-two Elders required a word at various, snatched times.
A word in the courtyard, an informal meeting in the pavilion tents, private audience in the study, on and on it went.
Between it all, Tristan asked questions, Teroux needed to know what to pack, Tianoman wanted the comfort of proximity, Saska flitted in and out, sometimes on the periphery, other times smiling and chatting for him. Vanar and Rose. Rose, an attractive girl with problems; he could not fathom her and did not have the time to. Caballa took her under her wing, protecting Rose from the male population, and said population from Rose.
The great feast possessed an undertone and he understood it, but it was out of his hands. All he could do was smile, answer, converse, nibble and drink, and hope they would look back one day and laud his foresight. He noted commiserations with the heirs quietly received, and could not change that either and hoped they would soon understand.
Then it was over. The Keep and valley settled for the night, what was left of it. Caballa, Saska and Rose retired to Caballa’s room, and Tristan, Teroux and Tianoman disappeared to pack their gear.
Torrullin went to Elianas, for he could no longer bear staying away.
Sanctuary
Mariner Island
IT WAS A FEW MINUTES before dawn on the sanctuary world, and Torrullin found the cottage deserted.
He found Elianas on the lip of the cliff overlooking a mist-ridden lake. His pounding heart stilled to a less erratic rhythm. He sat beside the man and stared over the water without speaking. Gulls swooped and commenced the morning call.
“You are exhausted,” came a murmur.
Torrullin nodded. “The coronation was taxing. Status quo.”
“I am aware. It has nothing to do with my wishes, in the event you begin to wonder. The Throne is autonomous again. Status quo is enabled to allow time to remain unchanged while we journey beyond boundaries.”
“I got that, but I hated lying to the boys. Why are you not resting?” Torrullin said.
“I have rested. It is fresh, this air … this freedom. My skin harks to the sensations. This is new. Everything is new.”
Torrullin was silent and then he snorted. “Is it, Elianas? New?”
A slow swing of dark hair. “Some nuances are ancient always.”
Torrullin watched a cormorant skim the ripples below. “We meet in Grinwallin this morning. We shall begin soon after.”
“The journey, or you and me?”
Torrullin met that dark gaze at last. He inhaled for strength. “Both.”
“Torrullin, are you ready for what you will find?”
“Is anyone ever ready?”
“No, but you must understand it will not be the same after. You will change in there.”
Torrullin gazed over the water again. “It is time for that, isn’t it?”
“It is, yes.”
“Then we deal with it.” Torrullin rose. “I shall see you in Grinwallin shortly. Before I go …”
Elianas looked up.
“I need to know about the Lumin Sword.”
“While it is a sword of realms, it was not created to release me. Your sons did not surrender life and therefore the blue and green blades for this mighty sword to become my freedom. It became that when you named it mine.”
“That is … good.”
Elianas revealed no emotion. “Why would I hurt you in such a manner?”
A moment of silence ensued. “Have we not hurt each other before?”
“We are new now, brother.”
“Thus we have.”
“Many times, but that belongs to the past.”
“How do I remember, Elianas?”
Dark eyes smiled. “We journey together, in this time. We take it moment by moment.”
“Ah.”
As Torrullin vanished, Elianas rose and stretched.
Finally.
Valaris
MORNING CAME TO VALARIS, and Torrullin, his grandsons and the three women were gone by the time the exodus of guests and dignitaries began.
News of status quo soon spread throughout political halls everywhere.
Part IV
MY NAME IS NEMESIS
Chapter 43
When strangers meet, there is ever a risk of war.
~ Awl
Grinwallin
IT NEARED MIDDAY ON Tunin and Grinwallin was warm and wholesome, the sun benign with birds noisily engaged in conversation.
After the cold of Valaris, it was glorious and uplifting.
Teighlar and Declan were on the portico. Quilla and Maple were there as well, and the sight of a Tracloc set Saska’s teeth on edge.
Tristan and Teroux were astonished by his presence, while Tianoman recalled the man left Digilan with them. His hands clenched, for it meant he would now think of Digilan and his father too much.
Teighlar was clearly none too pleased to have a Tracloc in Grinwallin, but the sight of Rose brought his good manners to the fore.
He greeted her, his gaze filled with appreciation, and then swung Saska up into his arms, embracing her. Caballa was as properly greeted by the Senlu Emperor, both of them laughing.
Then, “Why is he here?” Teighlar jerked his head towards Maple.
“We need him, that is why,” Torrullin said. “Where is Sabian?”
“Here,” came a lazy drawl from the lower steps. Sabian climbed up and looked Maple over. “You subdued the Mor Feru at the portal.”
Black eyes were expressionless. “I could not catch you, however.”
Sabian grinned. “That was then.”
“Step out of line this time,” Maple murmured, “and I swear to you, you will not escape me again. I know you now.”
As Sabian laughed, Teighlar inclined his head at Torrullin. He saw the value of a Tracloc. Quilla suspected that was only one facet of the Tracloc’s value - granted, a good one.
Teighlar looked to the heirs. “We heard of yesterday’s events. I shall not put my foot in and speak needless condolences. There is a point to this delay, which, of course, escapes me.” He chuckled. “It is good to see you three again. We missed you.”
Tristan grinned. “We had good times here. Thank you.”
Teroux, who could not long keep his eyes off Rose, said, “We are going with
you, so I guess we’ll be catching up on missing years.”
Teighlar glanced at Torrullin. “They are going?”
“They are, and Saska, Rose, Caballa, and whoever you chose as companion.”
Teighlar laughed. “Not bad. I chose Dechend. He has a level head in a crisis.”
“I thought it would be him.”
“Thirteen, Torrullin?” Quilla frowned.
“Superstitious, Quilla?” Sabian taunted.
The birdman ignored him. “We need one more. I am sure it occurred to you also fourteen would serve better.”
“Indeed, and look how many I brought to the fray.”
“I am beyond relieved you saw the wisdom, but we need one more,” Quilla insisted.
“We have one more. He will join us shortly. I shall introduce him when he arrives.”
“You add many unknown entities this time, Torrullin. Why is that?”
“Where we are headed, we cannot rely only on what we are familiar with.”
Quilla squinted up. “You are saying we require the element of surprise.”
“Perhaps.” Torrullin faced Teighlar. “Will Grinwallin have leadership in your absence?”
“Like to yours, a council of Elders. Dechend would be perfect, but I prefer having him with me.”
“Nothing will go wrong. Everything enters a kind of stasis when we leave, as if time will crawl along. Nobody will feel it, but after they will remark how little changed.”
“And how do you know this?”
“Singing stones, Emperor.” Torrullin noticed Quilla touch the pouch at his side. “Akhavar’s stones.”
“Handy.”
“Very. Where is Dechend? He should be with us.”
“He is coming - organising gear.” Teighlar glanced at the ground where many packs lay about. “Gods, I have not carried more than a quiver of arrows on my back in a thousand years. I am too old to go hiking like a kid.”
Rose spluttered laughter, and there was general mirth.
Lore of Sanctum Omnibus Page 43