by Greg Curtis
“However, I'm afraid I can't stay too long right at the moment. My wife is ill from her years of ill-treatment and she needs to be with her family and the healers soonest. In the meantime I've brought you some gifts, compliments of the King, whoever he is and even if he doesn't know it.”
He couldn't help but let the smile gracing his face grow broader as he uttered the last, for which Ryshal scolded him gently. Such a thing was too close to revenge for an elf to accept. Or maybe it was just that they shouldn't say such things in front of an elder. The priests might be called!
“First, for the foot weary, sixty of Fair Field's finest war horses. All well trained in the ways of combat, some still saddled, and all in the peak of condition. They will carry your soldiers proudly into battle, or pull the heaviest of wagons.” On cue the wizard looked up to see the black mass of horses behind him, all following Sam and the scouts happily. His face gave nothing away though – save maybe disappointment in a morally challenged half human's behaviour. Beside him though, War Master Seille looked at them appreciatively.
The horses were not what an elf would normally choose to ride, as they had been bred for strength and stamina rather than speed and grace, but for all that they were magnificent creatures and were both loyal and brave. At the very least they would be useful in that they could pull a heavy wagon. Perhaps with some dye, to change their appearance a little as they passed through Fair Fields.
“Also, for the journey ahead, some gold and precious stones to buy provisions.” He tossed the sceptre at War Master Wyldred, a relatively young and fit elder who had carried out much of his initial interrogation at Torin Vale. Sam watched with satisfaction as the elf staggered back a step or two in surprise at the weight. It was a gentle reminder to the elves that Sam was a true soldier as well as a wizard, and not someone to be trifled with.
All around the War Master the other soldiers stared wide eyed at the golden sceptre, trying to calculate just how much wealth he had casually thrown at them, and what they could buy with it. Even Sam didn't know. He estimated the gold alone at being the equivalent of five hundred to a thousand pieces, and even a truly magnificent horse would cost less than one. As for the stones, only the buyers could tell them that.
“I should mention that the sceptre was lost in the same fire that levelled the throne room of Fall Keep, and a couple of floors underneath. It doesn't exist any longer as far as people know. I'd suggest that it would be best if it remained that way.” Sam watched Elder Bela's eyes close briefly as he clearly tried to suppress a groan at his morally challenged ways, and chose to ignore him. The Elder hadn't been there, he hadn't suffered as had Sam and Ry, and he had no right to judge.
“Finally, for yourself and the other learned elders, the best part of the library of Fall Keep relating to either magic, prophecy or the Dragon Wars. In fact it is all I could gather at such short notice. It was a rather ... hurried visit!”
He wondered how long it would take for word of exactly what had happened in Fall Keep to reach the elves as they entered Fair Fields, and then no doubt for them to give him another dressing down. Probably not long. For all that they were strangers in a human realm, they were good listeners. And after that he was sure the priests would be annoying him day and night. It had been so much easier when he had lived some distance from town. But that was something for tomorrow to worry about. For the moment Ryshal's family came first.
He grabbed the reigns and gave them a flick as he guided Tyla on, but then pulled her up short as Ry nudged him in the ribs reminding him of the rest of what he had to tell them. Ry had told him what the elves would do if he didn't, and somehow had even managed to convince him of it. Despite the madness of it, they would return Sam's gifts to the king if they thought they were ill gotten. It didn't matter that the people needed them or what they could purchase with them. That they would end up suffering even more misfortune as the king sent an army of assassins and maybe even soldiers to them, having inevitably decided to blame them for his attack. The elves would do anything to be sure of the righteousness of their actions. And to accept wrongfully obtained wares was to accept the wrong that had been done to obtain them. They had endless stories from their history to support that view. And the priests had endless sermons!
“Lest you imagine otherwise Elder, none of these gifts are stolen. All are mine by right, mine to do with as I see fit.”
“The books like the others you now hold are mine by right both as the son of King Hanor and the ranking fire wizard in Fair Fields. I did not steal them, and I am no rogue. They are mine to hold or to give away and no one may say otherwise.”
“Likewise the horses and the sceptre were my half-brother's. He claimed ownership of them in his own name.” Of course the reason he could do that was that Heri claimed ownership of nearly everything. He claimed ownership of all of the kingdom's taxes as his as well. It was theft of course. Pure and simple. But the theft was “legal” since the king also wrote the law.
“They were his, and now they are mine. They became mine by way of penalty that I as the elder brother have exacted upon him for his crimes against our family. Since our father is dead, I as the older brother am the head of the house of Hanor if not ruler of the kingdom. I claim the position of laurena of the family, and as such I have the right to decide his punishment.”
It was perhaps unwise claiming the position. The laurena or trunk of the family was the one that supported the rest of the family. As such he was the one that held the final say on family decisions. And Ry was right that in order to claim the property of his little brother as his he had to claim the position. But claiming it also meant he was in some respects responsible for what Heri did. And Heri had committed a great many crimes, and not just against his family.
“These are merely partial restitution for all the wrongs he has committed against my wife and I, and against her parents. A slap on the wrist. Whether he would admit it or not, Heri is a wayward child who has wronged his own family. He valued these things because of the stature that he thought they brought him. So as laurena I claimed them as a lesson that no man is above the needs of his family. Their loss will bring him humility. I hope it will instil in him a valuable lesson.” Of course the only lesson that Heri was likely to learn would be one of fear and hatred, but that was good enough for Sam.
“And though it may trouble you to hear this, these are but the beginnings of the reparations I will demand of him should Heri cross my path again.”
The Elder didn't look too happy when he said that, but then he didn't have what could be called a naturally happy face. His features were too long and serious for that. If anything he looked thoughtful at best – though his thoughts could have been travelling to some unhappy places. But he didn't say anything as Sam continued.
“The loss of a few trinkets and a little face is but a very small beginning to his lesson, and had I not made a bargain with the little toad to free Ry, he would be suffering much more now. Assuming he still lives he could not nay say that in front of me or anyone else, and thus they are mine to give freely. Mine and my wife's. But again I wouldn't mention that to anyone in the Realm.”
“My brother has always hated the truth and the thought that anyone might have dominion over him, least of all me, would send him screaming further into the grip of insanity.” His grin only became wider, and Ry nudged him in the ribs again as she saw it. It was not acceptable to take pleasure in another's suffering. But at least he was allowed to say it, because it was the truth. The priests might still be visiting though.
Yet there was still one more thing he had to say. A thing which had weighed heavily on his thoughts as they rode back, and which he would have much preferred never to be uttered aloud, least of all in the company of Ry.
“Lastly, as we travelled back here I did some reading of the books and scrolls from the keep. I had time to study many of them in detail. Everything in those histories tells me those golems we met were not golems. As I suspected, they are tru
e machina. They match the descriptions perfectly. They even move in the same way. Plus those damnable glowing red eyes are mentioned in practically every telling. Worse still, their style of attack – raiding the smaller realms first, using the cover of dark, attacking without warning, and killing everyone they can for no reason is the same as that described of the Dragon himself thousands of years ago.”
As was one thing more, though he didn't have to remind them of it. That the machina and the Dragon Wars had ended the entire world of the ancients. In fact they had destroyed it. The Elder knew that as did every child who had ever had a history lesson. Even though the ancients had survived and their descendants had rebuilt the world over the last five thousand years, the terrible destruction the machina had wrought could not be forgotten. And they had not struck in just one land, nor only once. There had been years of war and every land had been attacked.
“I know you don't want to hear this, least of all while trying to keep the people together after such a terrible attack that has slain so many innocents and devastated the spirits of those who survive, but I fear you must. This fight is not over. Far from it. This is a war. I fear that the attack on Shavarra was only the start of what is to come.”
“This is more than a hunch. Every fibre of my being – and I have trained all my life in the tactics and strategy of warfare as well as magic and combat – tells me that this is only the beginning. I don't know who's behind this, what's happening out there in the rest of the lands, or even what's coming, but this battle is far from just one against a rogue alchemist. This enemy's far too powerful for that, and his goals are far from modest.”
Sam took a deep breath before saying the next part. Speaking the words he did not want to speak and that surely no one wanted to hear.
“Perhaps this is the beginning of a new Dragon War, or perhaps it's something else. But whatever his intent, our enemy has greater plans in mind than we have yet seen.” He took another deep breath to quiet his emotions and let his thoughts flow more easily.
“Also, I don't know why this stanza is important, but I believe it is:”
“- and when the golems hunt,
the cities shall fall,
and the people shall know fear.”
“If somebody – anybody – could just remember which book of prophecy that verse is taken from I would be very grateful. It's been running around in the back of my head for weeks. Ever since the night I first heard about the golems, and even more so when I first saw them. I think it may be important.”
“For now though honoured Elders, I must go. I apologise for my rudeness, but I must bring my wife safely back to the arms of her family and then on to the healers.” He even managed another small bow to them, something Ry had schooled into him, just for this meeting.
The elders in turn nodded to him, unhappy he was leaving so abruptly he suspected, but acknowledging his need to go.
Everything he needed to say having been said, Sam flicked Tyla's reigns once more and they left the elders and made their way down the wagon caravan. A caravan that seemed to have grown since he'd last been there.
It was still perhaps only three or four leagues long, but the wagons were stacked three and four wide on the flat roads leading to Fair Fields. Which could only mean they'd evacuated some of the other towns in Shavarra. Whitel Lee, Espellen Vale, Braellar's Falls, and so forth. All up he guessed, if they evacuated the whole province they could have as many as two or three hundred thousand people, and what he was seeing in front of him could well have been that many. He just hoped that the rest of the towns hadn't come under attack before they'd chosen to leave.
“So many!”
If Sam had been taken aback by seeing so many more elves now in the caravan, he suddenly realised the shock must have been a hundred times worse for Ryshal who hadn't seen any of them at all before. He had told her of what had passed a week after they left the castle – once he thought she was strong enough to take the terrible news. But telling someone something and actually seeing it were completely different things.
Especially when so many of those they passed still showed the scars of the battle, even weeks later. Unless there had been another battle since? There were too many still wearing bandages as though they were clothes, many more missing arms or legs, and above all else, so many sad, tired and defeated faces. That last more than anything else was what told the sorry tale. Elves weren't known as a sad people. To the contrary they were a happy, merry people. There was always music being played somewhere, the children were constantly running around and dancing, while even their more correct parents hummed quietly now and then. But that wasn't happening on this journey.
Without exception as they passed by the countless wagons, they could see a story of suffering, loss and hopelessness in the faces of those they passed. It was something Sam hadn't quite taken in before. But then he'd only been with them on the trail for a day or so, most of that asleep and the rest being interrogated. Besides, at that time the predominant feeling had been one of fear as the elves had been worried about when the golems might catch up. At some point while on the trail though, that had clearly changed, and the elves no longer feared that. They knew they were safe. Now they were counting the cost of that safety.
Sam had seen that look on people's faces only once before. It had been in the village of Deep Vale to the south of Fall Keep after a party of bandits had gone through it, killing half the men, wounding the rest and kidnapping the young women. Those who managed to survive were left with nothing as the bandits burnt their homes and farms, and stole everything of value. The elves looked just like them. Defeated, still trying to cope with their loss, and at the same time wondering what to do with the rest of their lives. But those villagers had had one advantage there that these elves did not. They still had a home they could rebuild. Until the enemy was hunted down and killed the elves of Shavarra knew they could never return home.
“But they're all alive Beloved. That's what's important. They may be homeless and fleeing for their lives, but they are alive. And one day, when this evil is defeated, they can all go home. We can all go home.”
He gave her the best comfort he could, but even he wasn't certain the evil would be so easily defeated. First they had to find out exactly what it was, and then who was behind it. Nor was he entirely certain that the elves had the strength to return if and when the enemy was defeated. But he was absolutely certain they didn't have the will to fight anymore.
“And I promise you now before the All Father, that I will lend all of my strength to their cause. My sword and my magic are theirs, and I will not rest until they are safe and home once again. Your people will be as safe as I can keep them. I swear that as both your husband and as a knight of Hanor.”
“I know that my love. I've always known that. You don't need to swear something so obvious to me.” Ry sighed with what sounded like exasperation, her moment of despair having passed, but she also kissed his cheek.
“You would do it anyway. It's not a matter of honour or even duty. You are your father's son, and just like him, a good and decent man. That's simply who and what you are. It's why I love you so much. It's why I married you. And it's why I pray that we can one day have a family together. Our children would be so blessed to have you as a father.”
“And you as their mother. They will need someone to teach them of grace and beauty, of love and compassion; laughter, music and dance.” It was only the truth.
“I will teach you to dance yet my beautiful man. That oath I will keep.”
He laughed, it was so good to hear the laughter in her voice as she promised to teach him what she had tried to many years before. Unfortunately he was about as graceful as a drunken ox, and Ry had made it one of her missions in life from even before their marriage to teach him. She hadn't forgotten.
“Ahh my love, you might have better luck starting with Tyla. She has the natural grace of her kind, and at least the good sense not to trip over her own feet.”
“Mother! Father!” Even as she was calling out to them, Ry was trying to dismount. Sam though held her securely around the waist and wouldn't let her go. Instead Sam nudged Tyla and they cantered the last fifty or so yards between them.
Mere heartbeats later, Ry and her parents were reunited in an explosion of cries and happy tears, and as Sam lowered her carefully into their waiting arms, the tears and cries became even louder. But that was as it should be for such a joyous event. There were even tears in his own eyes as he finally knew he was home, and though he was a soldier born and raised he didn't begrudge them one little bit.
In that moment he knew his journey had ended. Or one journey anyway. He had got Ryshal back. Now he had a new journey before him. He had to keep her and her people safe, help defeat their enemy, and finally bring them home.
It was a much more difficult task than what he had already faced, a far longer and more treacherous road. But he vowed to the All Father and the Goddess both that he would travel it to the end.