The Exodus Sagas: Book III - Of Ghosts And Mountains

by Jason R Jones

  “I shall inform Johnas of our arrival and await his commands.” Fadim sat next to the mirrors, having been taught how to use them as all the Emerald Eight had. “Alone.”

  “Yes, of course. None of my concern, I would not know what was written there anyway in that odd language you use, no.”

  “I would meet with Avegarne, see the ogre now, Eliah. Take me to him.” Vanessa needed to know that the ogre king was still in the war, still thirsted for blood, and still honored the deals of Salah Cam and Johnas Valhera.

  “Quite a walk to the old Teirenshire castle, will master Fadim find us? We could wait.”

  “He will find us, when he has finished.”

  “Follow me then, follow me. Errand boy I am, it would seem.”

  Heading south, over lakes of brackish water, Vanessa followed Eliah Shendrynn. His pace slowed, past the trolls, into dark cavern with dripping drops from above. He slowed more. His eyes focused, concentrating on his bats in the study. His eyes of teal closed, glowed orange from under the lids, putting his sight into his pets. He wanted to know what words this Fadim would send to Johnas, if he suspected what had transpired, his paranoia forced him to spy.

  “What is it, why do we stop?”

  “I see something, on the surface, yes, hold on one moment, I need to concentrate.” He lied again, holding still.

  The tablets were out, the arcane phrases and words of passage had been traced by the Altestani assassin. He was writing, but not to Johnas. Salah Cam watched, he studied the words being traced on the white tablet, mirrored by a secret code that changed on the black one. Through the sight of his bats above Fadim, he looked back and forth, deciphering what was written in the arcane tongue.

  Jhaleem

  I am in the ruins of Arouland, and it is far from destroyed. The man you and our emperors inquire of, Johnas Valhera, indeed has an army comprised of ogre, trolls, and shapeshifting creatures. He employs women and allows them to use the blade and learn the arcane. He now has an elf from Kilikala and a sorcerer that has learned the secrets of necronomy and controls the dead. He plans to take Harlaheim, Chazzrynn, and deals with Willborne and Caberra as well. His webs run deeper than you had thought. It has taken years, but I now know all of his positions and members. He does little to seek out those that killed our cousins on the trade visit, he is not concerned. This man Johnas is aware of me, his whore surely has told him of her suspicions. Send your fastest ship and meet me along the coast of the Vateric Ocean, north of here. I will leave when I have destroyed the dead, these thieves of the arcane, and the elf. Something lurks in a pit, it whispers to me, the powers of these people have once again risen. It is time to act.

  Glory to Altestan, glory to Yjaros, glory to the Emperors,

  Your brother of the Yaj Alinahre

  Fadim

  Salah Cam smiled, Eliah’s face that he now had followed his emotions as his own body. He watched as Fadim sent another, shorter, message to Johnas Valhera in Harlaheim. It stated simply that they had arrived and all was as it should be.

  “What is it?” Vanessa watched as the strange arcane sight vanished and Eliah’s eyes opened.

  “How well do you know this companion of yours, this Fadim?”

  “He is of our highest order, like myself, that is all you need to know. Why?”

  Eliah snapped his fingers, trolls came with claws scraping stone, red eyes closing in, dozens appeared from the outer darkness under the ruined city.

  “He just sent a very informative message to someone.”

  “Of course, to Johnas. We have our orders to---“

  “No, my scarred beauty. He sent it to Altestan, to his brother.”

  “How could you see that…what do I do?” Vanessa did not want to believe it, but she knew his allegiance was questionable.

  “My bats, my pets above saw it. You have a traitor with you, Miss Blackflame. I have heard what Johnas does to traitors.”

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  The outer stones that marked the sacred territory brought painful memories to his heart. Lavress paused, waiting for the trees of summer and the warm winds to send him a sign that he was allowed to pass within. Glancing over his shoulder, at the caravan of fifty that waited with the dying King of Chazzrynn, the wood elf hunter prayed in the sylvan tongue, he prayed silently that they would stay back where he had instructed and not get curious. The wind answered, the grasses blew and the trees whisked, all the greens below and blue sky above told him without a word to enter. He went further inside the grove, passing where Jevendial had been killed, not a sign. Then strode to the stones where Bedesh the satyr had lay bleeding to death and fired an arrow into the Nadderi elf, Kendari.

  The temple doors of enchanted stone were open, soft melodies rang from inside, and the flitting of small forms caught his attention. Lavress knelt and waited, as was custom, and made the sign of peace to the Mother, from heart to lips to brow.

  “You bring a splendid gift, and foul company, blessed of the Hedim Anah. Rise.”

  The voice was deep, not at all happy, and heavy steps came forward as Lavress stood and looked forward. An ogre, yet not as the ones he had seen in Southwind Keep. This one was perhaps seven or so feet all, stunted, with small tusks and deep purple eyes. He was stocky and strong, yet had a peaceful disposition unlike his heritage, his hides of animal skins clean, and he held a spear of twisted wood at his side.

  “I have a dying king, the ruler of Chazzrynn with me. I need your help, the help of Princess Ramaya-nun.”

  “It was folly to bring them here. You know the laws. She cannot leave the sanctum underneath, and he cannot enter.”

  “Then I will ask for an exception to be made.”

  “Humans are not welcome here, they are a poison to her realm, you know this. They spread like disease, and bring more suffering and death than the worst of plagues.” The runt of the ogre kind shook his head.

  “I will speak to the princess, and beg mercy for a dying man then. I gave my word I would try.”

  “You have permission to enter, I was sent to greet you. I am Grnikol, guardian of the temple for Ramaya-nun. Her priest waits to meet you as well, Lavress Tilaniun of the Hedim Anah.” Grnikol turned, glancing up out of the grove toward the distant humans that waited, shaking his head.

  “You are an ogre, is that correct?” Lavress followed to the steps.

  “No, I was born to the ogre. Small and weak I was, and in the city of Bloodskull, the runts are tossed down the mountain to lure food closer to the hunting grounds. I lay screaming for days they said, waiting to be eaten, kinsmen watching above to kill what came for me. A hiroon found me, took me mercifully, and brought me to a temple long ago.”

  “I knew a hiroon, Jevendial, brave warriors indeed.”

  “I know them all, seventy four of them that survive. Jevendial was a good friend, he is missed.”

  “I will find the Nadderi that killed him, and my friend the satyr as well. Someday soon, I hope.”

  “When the Goddess wills it, it will be done. Her will is what saves us, and we are the few that can hear her voice from wherever she is.” Grnikol took a knee deep in the earth, making the sign of the mother. Lavress did the same.

  The stone was as clay, the earth was dry down here, like Caberra though they were far south in Chazzrynn. The stones were rounded and smooth, sandstone, and the trees that grew underground had a myriad of blue and orange leaves that hid the hundreds of sprites, nixies, pixies, and all manner of little fey that watched and played.

  “Lavress, we have heard so much of you, young one. Blessings upon you from Seirena.”

  Her voice was full of laughter, light hearted cheer, and Lavress smiled as he looked to the dark twisting throne of vines, illumination and sparkling essence dancing throughout the sacred chambers.

  “Princess Ramaya-nun, daughter of Lanaru-fin, daughter of Seirena, I come to you with urgent need. The king of Chazzrynn is dying, his only heir a prisoner, and I have vowed to help. I have completed m
y tasks set forth by the Order of the Whitemoon, I have recovered the last stolen book.” Lavress took the golden tome from his sachel, laying it below the feet of the fairy that ruled this temple.

  Her hair flowed like whirlwinds, twirling in circles of red curls atop her fair skin and deep green eyes. Rings that glistened, jewels sparkling, and her smile seemed to control it all. Just under three feet of majestic beauty and divine grace, Ramaya-nun looked to the book, then motioned to her priest to her left to inspect.

  “Niastae, great sphinx, and priestess of my house, would you be so kind?”

  A fourlegged lion with white wings and the face of a beautiful woman strode from the temple proper, sniffing the book and bowing to her princess. “Yes, it is indeed what the Hedim Anah promised. We must travel to Gualidura and see it safely to Queen Ganidaea.”

  The hair of the petite princess fell over her pointed ears, the twirling and flowing stopped, and her face went stern.“You may not heal this king of men, nor may he enter, nor may I leave. It is forbidden, no exceptions for men.” Ramaya-nun answered coldly.

  Lavress had not mentioned and exception, not yet. She had read his heart and mind quickly without him even knowing. “Then what shall I do, your highness, for he is dying.”

  “Choose. One who does not practice the arcane, one that is not a priest, one of no relation to us or him. Bring a man to me, a pure man, if he passes the test of the Goddess, if he can withstand her will through me, he may pass the gift on to this king and save him. If he fails, he will use it on himself, he will relish in the fleeting feelings of it, and it will slowly vanish. Then, your king will die, and we must kill the pure one. It is the only way.”

  “I do not know these men that ride escort, I, how would I know?”

  “I do not know them either.”

  “This is most unfair, to place the life of a king in the hands of a stranger.” Lavress felt a twinge of anger in his voice.

  “It is most unfair? That one of the Hedim Anah brings humans to a sacred temple? Some would say it most unfair I do not see you stripped of honors and title for this transgression.” The small voice of Princess Ramaya-nun held power, love, but no compassion for the men outside.

  “My title and honors mean nothing in the face of a dying king, in a realm ready to fall into wicked hands, with the ogre and trolls, and war---“

  “Then if title and honors mean nothing, you merely bring me a dying man. You surely have seen many, why this one do you wish to save? Are others imposing upon you, or did you offer?”

  “No, he is a good man, a good king. His son is imprisoned, and should he fail to save him, the realm…will of the Goddess be done.” Lavress looked to his feet, he knew he had to go and find a pure man. The voice of Seirena flowed through her grandaughters, it was not right to question them. He bowed and ran out of the sanctum, past Grnikol and the swarming giggling sprites, and to the stairs up to the surface.

  “Best hurry, Lavress Tilaniun, he does not have long.” Ramaya-nun smiled, her hair wisping like tornadoes once more, her voice carrying to the elven hunter.

  “He still does not understand at times, it would seem.” Niastae bowed her head with a braided white mane, stretched her wings, then lay down over the golden tome.

  “No, he is young, just a few centuries old. He will learn to hear her will with ease in time. Never like us, he is male.” Ramaya-nun looked to Grnikol, the orphan runt of the ogre, her guardian and protector of the temple.

  “Hmmmm…grrrr…hrmmpphh!” Grnikol walked toward the entrance, not liking the games his princess played at times.

  Lavress ran, harder, faster, the summer sun setting soon in the east. Up the hills, through the groves of banyan trees, and into the camp he sprinted. The tents were set, the horses tied, and the men looked at him with suspicion.

  “Liogan, Liogan Andellis!” He searched for his young archer, the brave boy of Southwind, looking nearly in panic.

  “Here master Lavress! What is it?”

  Men stood, crowding to hear what the bother was, if their king would live or no. Aelaine and Marcus appeared from the king’s tent, waiting for word from their elven guide. Tension that was already present tightened more.

  “I need you, now. Come with me.” Lavress grabbed his arm and began to run back to the temple.

  “What word, Lavress, will they take him in?” Aelaine asked, almost pleading as the Chancellor shook his head.

  “We will return soon.” was all Lavress said.

  “Where are we going, why am I going? Liogan ran, not truly in objection, just nervous.

  “Are you a virgin?”

  “What does that have to do---“ he received a stare from his savage elf friend.

  “Well, yes, but do not tell the men. I don’t want them to know.” He blushed.

  “Your secret is safe with me. It may have just saved your king.”

  “The fact I am a virgin? What are you going to make me do?”

  “Nothing like that, serious now Liogan Andellis. Mind my words. Whatever you receive, you must give away with no thoughts of yourself, do you hear me?”

  “Yes, allright.”

  “Whatever you hear, whatever they say or promise, remember your king is dying in his tent.”

  “Anything else?” Liogan was scared, curious, but more fearful of the unknown than ever.

  “Yes. Do not touch anything or anyone.” Lavress smiled, running to the stairs where Grnikol the stunted ogre guardian waited for them.

  “Greetings, Liogan Andellis, we have been expecting you. Lavress, you must wait here.” Grnikol smiled to Lavress, receiving the same in return.

  “How do they know me here?” Liogan looked frightened.

  “Do not worry, they know more than you and I can imagine.”

  Exodus III:IX

  Southern Doors, City of Marlennak

  “Outeessiddllee grlllooo.” Dalliunn Cloudwatcher whispered and padded ahead in the dark of night, gazing overhead at the stars, leading the five companions past the open door.

  Azenairk kept close to the lewirja, and kept quiet. His mind was wandering to his flight from Boraduum, out the south doors there as well. It brought back memories of his father, his promise, and all the trouble he had left behind. It weighed on him, yet carrying on was the only relief he ever felt from it.

  Gwenneth followed Zen, taking in the fresh air and open spaces once more. Shinayne and Saberrak walked past the door, nodding to the guards that thought they were going out scouting with Dalliunn and would be back soon. Marshall Tannek could not be found, nor his brother, and Zen did not wish to wait any longer. James struggled in the rear, his head throbbing and stomach churning. Even the crescent light from the white moon and the millions of stars at night hurt his eyes.

  The magnificent pillars and stairs, the grandeur of Marlennak, all of it was behind them as they walked west back toward the pass from days previous. No one spoke, they had already said what needed to be said, heard what needed to be heard. It was weighing on Zen, and the rest of them knew it. It was time to leave to their journey once more.

  As they passed the tunnels, the valley of Deadman’s Pass opened from east and west before them. Zen stopped. He pulled his brother’s shield from his back, then a warhammer of black steel he had purchased in Blackbridge. He set them down on the rock, then drew his warhammer, the one from his father, having had it passed down since he was a child.

  “I know ye’ can’t understand me, Dalliunn. But, here goes anyhow. Ye’ done saved us in the pass, three times over I think, and I got no beads for ye’. But, my father gave me this when I was a boy, and I carried it with honor me’ whole sixty odd years now. I want ye’ to have it.” The dwarven priest handed it, two hands holding it out, nice and polished.

  “Frlllyym mougasssi?” Dalliunn reached for the warhammer, his eyes wide.

  “Yes, for you.”

  The fourlegged lion-man took his crude edged stone hammer with the bone handle and handed it to the black bearded dwarf be
fore him. “Frlllymmo trrrlllga.”

  “For me? Well I don’t really…allright, a trade then.” Zen took the weapon, putting it on his left side and hefting the blacksteel hammer of Marlennak over his shoulder as he picked up his shield.

  Dalliunn swung the hammer, lighter steel than the heavy black they used here. He seemed to like it. “Hiiilousii neerrllga?”

  “Yes, we are heading west, that way.” Zen pointed to the right. “A long way to go, my friend.”

  Dalliunn, not letting go of the warhammer for a moment, licked Azenairk on the cheek. Then to Shinayne, Gwenneth, and James the same. Saberrak gave him a pat on the shoulder and nodded, giving the hint not to try it. He jumped up, licked a horn, and padded of back to Marlennak, swinging the hammer round and round with every few steps and watching the sky.

  “Ye got the fresh water and food for travel?” Zen asked, staring to the west in the dark of night.

  “Yes, we are set. Are you sure you want to leave this way, Zen?” Shinayne asked quietly.

  “Aye. They don’t believe it, they be tryin’ to have Gwenneth talk me out of it, and you all as well I am sure. We be just goin’ on faith and promises anyway, why wait around for more opinions? I know what they will say, I have heard them all before.”

  Zen waited, waited for contradictions from the ladies, maybe James even. There was silence, the mountains made more noise than his friends did right now.

  “Are we going to start out, or stand here til morning?” James spoke first, someone had to. He walked to the west.

  “No objections then?” Zen turned to face them.

  “Plenty actually. But I would not be here if they mattered in comparison.” Gwenneth smiled to her dwarven companion and walked ahead with James.

  “Elf, minotaur, any last words?”