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The Shards

Page 8

by Gary Alan Wassner


  They all dismounted and let the horses graze momentarily without taking their eyes off of the tower in the distance. The sensations they all were experiencing distracted them and disrupted their equilibrium for just a few seconds.

  “Is everyone alright?” Cairn asked, concerned now that the feeling had passed.

  “I am fine. Just a bit dizzy,” Filaree responded.

  “Yes, I am okay too. I just feel a little weak, but it is nothing to be worried about,” Davmiran answered, though his voice was unsteady.

  Robyn did not seem to be paying much attention to his companion’s words. One of his arms was raised above his shoulder, and he extended his long, slim fingers until the tips were arched and curved like the supple bows of the elves. A ripple of power surged through the air around them all. Filaree gasped. Calyx hovered protectively over Cairn and Davmiran who was standing beside him. He stood high upon his hind feet and bellowed in the air. Robyn remained perfectly still.

  “The image of the Tower has grown blurry. Do you see it too?” Filaree asked.

  “Yes. I can barely make the spire out any longer,” Cairn responded, squinting his eyes in the direction of Parth.

  “What do you suppose it is? Only a moment ago, it was as clear as could be,” Filaree asked.

  “What do you think that was that rushed by us?” Cairn asked, more concerned at the moment for their own safety and security.

  “Robyn?” Davmiran called. “What do you see?”

  “There is a shield of sorts around the Tower. I cannot decipher its origins. It feels like nothing I have ever experienced before,” he replied to the boy with his eyes still closed. “Join me here,” he beckoned to him. “Take my hand, Dav,” Robyn said, and reached backward with his free hand outstretched.

  Davmiran walked over to him and clasped his strong hand in his own.

  “Close your eyes, son. Tell me what you feel.”

  The boy shut his eyes tightly and concentrated while the others joined them, standing in a semicircle facing Parth.

  “It comes from the Tower, whatever it is,” the boy said after a moment, his voice having regained its strength.

  “Yes, I know,” Robyn replied quietly.

  “It is almost solid in feeling. I cannot penetrate it very far.”

  “Odd, is it not? “ Robyn said as if to himself. “It is full of the earth power, organic in nature, but no Lalas has placed this barrier here. I know of no Chosen who would barricade Parth. I wonder…”

  “It seems to come from within the Tower, not without,” Dav said.

  Calyx growled, and another rush of power cascaded by them, causing each one of the group to sway slightly and seek out each other for support.

  “What was that?” Cairn asked after they all regained their footing.

  “Something powerful is probing the Tower, and we just happen to be in its path,” Robyn said.

  “Probing? Who would ever do such a thing? To what purpose?” Filaree asked. “Does Colton’s reach extend this far north? What of the convergence here? I thought this area was protected.”

  “It is. Or it was,” he said, his eyes dark. “But protection need not stem from the trees themselves in all cases,” Robyn replied thoughtfully. “The taint of evil is unmistakable, though it is well concealed,” he continued, as he opened up his senses to the passing currents of power that continued to wash over them.

  “If we are not the target of this delving, I hope we do not become its victims,” Filaree warned.

  “Should we conceal ourselves?” Cairn asked. “We are quite exposed here, standing and talking like this.”

  “We are safe for now,” Robyn assured them. “Our problem will be how to penetrate the barrier around Parth, not how to avoid this reconnoitering.”

  “Maybe Parth is not the best place for us to seek shelter at this time. We should gather the horses,” she said, disturbed by the uncertainty that had so suddenly overtaken them.

  Dav was standing next to Cairn and he rested his graceful arm on his friend’s shoulder. Softly and quietly, with his eyes half closed, he began to recite out loud,

  “Tomorrow’s wind, a premonition,

  through the trees it blows.

  Upon its wings, fate doth travel

  with the breezes, to and fro.

  Must we join the fray so soon?

  Must the sunlight fade to gloom?

  Must the singers change their tune?

  Must the darkness shroud this moon?

  Those of you who bear the weight,

  the disquiet that will not abate,

  the memory of pain and hate,

  an urgency that cannot wait,

  with courage still to challenge fate,

  Walk down the road that none dare tread,

  the path of conscience, the single thread,

  as you watch the darkness spread,

  without the fear and burning dread,

  of what it is that lies ahead,

  but heed the words your father said,

  should you alone survive the dead.”

  “Where did that come from?” Filaree asked, as Davmiran opened his eyes and looked at the others, dazed and confused.

  “I do not know. Honestly, the words just started to flow by themselves,” Dav said a bit dumbfounded. “I cannot recall ever hearing it before or reading it.”

  “I cannot place it either. Do you remember the words still?” Cairn asked.

  “I think so. I could repeat them if I tried,” the boy responded, tilting his head in a quizzical manner.

  “Why did it come to you now?” Robyn asked, not expecting the boy to answer. “What must we garner from it?”

  “It should not be that hard to decipher. Perhaps you three are looking into it too deeply,” Filaree said. “It is the last line that concerns me the most. The rest seems quite understandable.”

  “You may be right, Filaree,” Cairn replied. “Though I wish I knew its derivation. Are you sure you cannot place it anywhere?” he asked both Davmiran and Robyn.

  “My memory is limited,” Dav said. “You know I cannot remember anything prior to my reawakening!” he exclaimed. “Could it be Mira speaking through me once again?”

  “It is possible. She was a wise woman and more connected to the trees than anyone ever realized. It would not be unlikely that she would have recited poems such as this to you as a child. She knew you Dav, and she knew what you were destined for. She gave her life for that,” Robyn reminded them.

  “But still her legacy is strong!” Cairn said, squeezing the boy’s arm and nodding.

  “In order to understand this, we must know whom the words refer to. It cannot be you, Cairn. You never did know your fathier, did you?” Filaree asked.

  “That is true. No, it cannot be me,” he said somewhat sadly, recalling his lonely childhood and solitary upbringing.

  “My father was always reminding me of my obligations,” Filaree continued. “He was a wise man and he had so much to teach.”

  “My father too, could be the one to whom the words refer,” Robyn echoed.

  “And mine?” Davmiran asked. “Did any of you know my father? I cannot remember him at all,” he said, his smooth forehead creased with the strain of recollection. “All I know is what you have told me until now.”

  “I knew of him, as did we all. But we had never met. During the last years of the kingdom there was little contact with the outside world. Not much news escaped,” Robyn said. “Mira was one of the few who communicated regularly, and that communication too ceased by the final year.”

  “Everyone knew of him, Dav. He had accomplished so much. I even remember when my mother told me that something was tragically amiss in Gwendolen,” Filaree said, musing on those moments. “We were sitting in the chamber above the Great Hall. It has a huge window that overlooks the courtyard. We would often sit there and talk. You feel as if the entire world is at your feet in that room.” It was evident on Filaree’s face just how much she missed Avalain a
nd her mother. After a moment, she continued her narrative. “We sat in complete silence, as we often did. It was so peaceful, and after my father died, my mother needed those private moments more frequently. I was fortunate that she included me,” she smiled. “My mother laid her hands upon mine and looked me deeply in the eyes. The only other time she did that quite so intensely was the day my father died. Immediately, I was concerned. She told me that great changes were overtaking our world, and that the kingdom of Gwendolen was now shut off from the rest of us. She said that the King had sealed the borders and ceased all communication with the outside world. She also told me that she suspected that the Dark Lord’s mark was upon this occurrence and that it boded ill for us all. Mostly, I remember shivering in response. The chill that crept across my skin was the most unwelcome feeling I had ever had,” she said, as she felt a shiver run down her forearms now too, causing goose-bumps to rise unwittingly.

  “I lived alone,” Cairn said suddenly, and drew everyone’s attention. “I had so little contact with the outside world at that time, you would think that these events would have passed me by. I too knew precisely when Gwendolen succumbed to Colton’s advances. I felt the change gradually, though I was unsure of exactly what its origins were in the beginning. When your father, the King, finally cut off all contact with the trees and the Chosen, I was sitting before the stream by my cottage. There are some moments in my life that I could never forget,” he said shaking his shaven head. “Calyx howled. He knew it even before I did. Then I felt it too. The water seemed to stop flowing and the wind ceased to blow. The woods grew perfectly silent and still. No one told me what was happening, but I knew. The stain of evil was upon everything. And the air felt empty, as if its essence had been withdrawn and only a deathly vacuum remained. The feeling has never fully passed since that day,” he said, and he stared downcast at the ground.

  “The effect of his loss upon us all is a telling indication of how important he was, though it unfortunately tells you nothing of what kind of a man he was,” Robyn said. “But Dav, I believe that it is he to whom the words refer. Think of the final line. Were you not in fact the only one to survive when the kingdom finally yielded?”

  “It is a warning, though, to ‘heed the words’. Dav has already ‘survived the dead’. So, what are the words he now needs to heed?”

  “If he listened to his father’s words then, and if Mira listened as well, he would not have survived. The King’s spirit and soul had been compromised by the deceptions and trickery,” Filaree said.

  “And by the manipulations of the witch who so successfully worked her way into the very heart of the circle surrounding the royal family,” Robyn said.

  “So how is this ever to be helpful? “ Davmiran asked perplexed. “I cannot remember anything!”

  “But you did recall the poem,” Cairn said. “Now you just have to recollect what it was that your father tried to tell you.”

  “Cairn is right. This poem perhaps is the trigger that will eventually release the memory from the captivity of your mind,” Robyn said.

  “I think we should talk about this at another time,” Filaree warned, and the others raised their heads and gazed in the direction she was already staring.

  The energy that surged through the woods had finally met the wall of power surrounding Parth. The area of impact was beginning to spark and glow dangerously. They could hear the various, disparate sounds, none of which were comforting.

  “Gather the horses,” Filaree said to the others. “We had best be gone from here soon.”

  “Yes,” Robyn agreed. “This may be our one opportunity in a while to make our way into Parth,” he said, and the others stared at him incredulously.

  “Into Parth?” they all repeated at once.

  Chapter Eight

  “Be still! You gain nothing by speaking,” he said, snapping the chains taught.

  Unlike ordinary metal links, the irons that bound him were forged within the mind of the most evil of beings, and they reacted to the master’s moods as if they were extensions of his limbs. He needed only will it and they responded. They pulsated and slithered around his wrists and ankles, and around his throat as well, making it impossible now for him to do anything other than gag.

  He was so weak that he could barely keep his eyes open. He knew though that if he closed them, he may never open them again, and so he fought the impulse to surrender and allow sleep to overtake him.

  What are these chains made of? he wondered. If I could only pierce their surface I could find a way to loosen them.

  Premoran drew whatever power he still retained into his right wrist, knowing full well that doing so would weaken the rest of his extremities beyond the danger point. He waited for his brother to turn away from him, and then he quickly probed the links. A shock coursed through his entire body, and his head thrust backward sharply and involuntarily. He could feel the warm blood dripping down the back of his neck, but he could also sense that he had utilized the exact amount of force needed to penetrate the ingeniously woven fetters that were being used to constrain him.

  That was worth the pain, he thought, and he blinked back the tears that had filled his red and swollen eyes. Their derivation is of the earth as I suspected. So my brother could not stop himself from utilizing it still. He smiled slightly and took a deep breath. It is so sad, so tragic for us all. If he was not so deadly, then the irony would almost be heartbreaking.

  He hung from the stone wall, partway up from the floor to the ceiling. Nothing visible shackled him to the wall, suspending him thus. The chains bound his arms and legs and caused him pain and discomfort, but they did not help to hold him in place. When his brother entered the room their ends sprung toward his hands like iron to a magnet stone. The air around him was buoyant, though dry and stale, and it felt lighter than it should have. It was the air around him that kept him from falling to the surface of the chamber. Colton had infused it with a resilience that the prisoner could not pierce.

  When Premoran awoke what now seemed like weeks ago, the first thing he saw was his brother’s enraged face peering at him from below. He thought he was dreaming still, for in reality, he never expected to survive the battle that he entered into when he left his friends in Seramour. All that concerned him was that the boy, the heir, was given the time and opportunity to escape his brother’s madly obsessive pursuit. In that respect he succeeded, and as far as he was concerned, victory was his. Colton’s efforts were once again thwarted. But he knew fully well that he would pay a great price for that.

  It would have been easier for me if he had killed me, he thought, as excruciating waves of pain washed over him, compelling him to search deeply for the light of salvation within his soul. But, with life, there is hope, he reminded himself.

  “You could stop this at any moment, brother,” Colton said to him, though his voice was not audible to the ear. It echoed across his numbed consciousness. “As allies, we would be unstoppable,” he hissed.

  Premoran resisted responding to him, but in his weakened state, he could not control himself as he would have wished.

  “So you realize that you are stoppable now?” he asked.

  The chain around his neck constricted immediately, making it impossible for him to speak another word.

  “You are a fool! You insist upon provoking me still? What have you to gain, Premoran?” he asked, knowing that his captive could not respond. “I am winning already, and you are aware of that too. It will just take time. No one can defeat me. They have rebuffed my assaults up until now, but with each blow that I deal them, they weaken and I grow stronger. I care not for the losses I incur. You know that,” he said. He turned his back on Premoran nonchalantly and allowed the chains to relax just enough so that he could breathe more comfortably.

  There was a subtle hint of doubt in Colton’s voice though he tried so hard to conceal it, and Premoran noticed it immediately. He looked at him through half opened eyes, and it seemed almost as if his image was
fading slightly. The wizard shook his head and squinted his eyes in order to clear them.

  Thank the First, I can at least move some part of me, he thought. Why is he keeping me alive? I was certain he would have killed me this time as soon as he had the chance. Is it still so hard for him to sever the ties completely, I wonder? How can I use this to help us all?

  Premoran searched the chamber perfunctorily, as his weakened physical condition did not allow him to do anything more thoroughly. And, as he suspected, he discovered no obvious weaknesses in the structure of his prison.

  “What did you expect to find?” Colton quipped.

  “You have already surprised me, brother. I am alive,” he replied.

  “Do not think you are alive because I still harbor some affection for you,” he hissed back. “There are things you have not yet revealed to me. I wish to know them before I terminate your life,” he said matter-of-factly. “And there is something I need you to do.”

  Does he reason still? I expected him to be far madder than he appears, the wizard thought.

  “You must see what I have accomplished here,” Colton said to him, as if he was a visitor coming to Sedahar for the first time. “When you and your ‘friends’ forced me to leave, your disdain was so obvious. Surely, had they lived, they would marvel at me now! What a shame that they cannot share this experience with you.”

  He cares even to this day. He has not overcome his rancor. I must turn this weakness to my advantage.

  “Calista would not have been surprised,” Premoran replied.

  Colton’s head snapped around at the mention of the Lady of the Island, but he kept silent. It was obvious that he had touched a sensitive nerve, and he wanted to probe it further and determine the depth of his concern.

  “She always believed that you were destined for great things,” he continued despite the dryness in his throat and the incredible pain. Even as a young man, Colton could not conceal his need for praise.

 

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