Ritual of the Stones (Ballad of Frindoth)

by Donovan, Rob

“He said that if I joined him, I would control Brimsgrove, my lord,” Hamsun said, looking warily at Tulber.

  Brimsgrove was the smallest region in Frindoth. Its borders touched four other regions, one of them being Hamsun’s Luciana. Despite its size and being the only region without a significant coastline, it was an area of land that was much desired. Its rich soil and vast grasslands made it ideal for farming. Any food that came out of Brimsgrove was generally considered to be the finest in Frindoth. It was a shrewd proposition by Vashna. It would give Hamsun a handsome reward, but not too much land as to be a threat once he was king.

  Tulber’s anger was evident. He was a tall middle-aged man and had been one of the longest serving on the council. His pragmatic approach to battle and ruling his region were two of the reasons for this. He had survived many a campaign. His face had gone bright red; with his goatee beard and face pitted with scars, he looked like a drunkard.

  Before he could speak, Jacquard raised a hand to get their attention. He noticed Tulber clenching his hands as they rested on the table. He was shaking in an effort to control himself.

  “What was your response, Hamsun?” Jacquard asked.

  Everyone’s attention returned to Hamsun. Jacquard knew they were all expecting him to be offended by the question, but Hamsun was an intelligent man and would not have dismissed the proposal lightly.

  “I told him his offer was generous and I would see what you had to say,” Hamsun replied.

  “Outrageous!!! You barbaric whore! My lord, are you going to stand for this intolerance?” Tulber screamed, rising to his feet and gesturing wildly.

  “Mind your tongue, Tulber, I would hate to cut it out,” Hamsun said, joining him in standing.

  Soon all of the warlords were shouting. Old feuds were brought up. If there had been swords in the room they would have been drawn.

  “SILENCE!” Jacquard shouted. The warlords ceased their squabbling instantly. “Tulber, you will remember where we are. I asked Hamsun a question and he has answered it honestly. You will all be seated.”

  As the others sat down, Jacquard himself got up and paced around the room. After circling the table for the second time, he addressed Hamsun.

  “If you have come here to negotiate more land, you will be disappointed. I am not interested in entering a bidding war for your services. I offer you nothing more than the protection you have already. We both know that if the west were to rise up against the rest of us and you are on their side, they will still have to march through your region, stripping your land of resources.

  “Any battle will likely be fought on yours and Kana’s territory. More than likely it will be staged over the canyon. The biggest loser in the war will be Luciana. Your land will be ravaged by war, your people considered an acceptable casualty. If you side with the rest of us, we can ride out to meet Vashna on his own land and deplete his land of resources.

  “You have come today to hear what I have to say. I say that seated around this table are eight warlords, eight great warriors who are being threatened by only three power hungry regions, for I refuse to believe that Prandor would involve himself with Vashna. You want to know what I have to say? I say choose your side carefully, Hamsun.”

  Hamsun bowed his head in acknowledgement. “That is what I was hoping to hear, my king,” he said. Jacquard looked around the room. Everyone seemed tense and dazed by the news Hamsun had imparted.

  “To the rest of you, I say that we have all had to digest a lot of information today. Some of you may be wondering what the best course of action is for your friends and family. The Ritual is in twenty-three days. Go home if you wish, talk amongst your kin, I expect you back here the day before the sacrifice.”

  The council stood. They looked relieved to be escaping the room. Jacquard watched them leave one by one, wondering how many he could trust as they left. As Kana walked past with his head lowered, Jacquard touched him lightly on the arm.

  “A moment if you will, Kana?”

  He waited until all the others had left the room and motioned for Kana to sit. Althalos and Jefferson also now took seats at the table. Kana licked his lips and looked nervously at the three of them.

  “It seems strange that Vashna would contact Hamsun and not you,” Jacquard said. “After all, you are the most direct route through to Lilyon.”

  “I, I, I don’t know what you want me to say, my lord,” Kana stuttered.

  “I don’t want you to say anything unless there is something to say, Kana. If Vashna contacted you, now is the time to speak. You saw from how I treated Hamsun, you will not be harmed and will be free to leave,” Jacquard said.

  “It is worth bearing in mind, that we will find out if you are being untruthful,” Jefferson said as he leaned forward.

  Jacquard made a show of wincing at the unspoken threat, but it was a well-rehearsed routine between the two of them. It had the desired affect; Kana’s face paint began to run where he was perspiring under the scrutiny. He wrestled with his conscience before finding an inner resolve.

  “I have not seen nor spoken to Vashna since the last council, my lord,” Kana said.

  Jacquard studied him for a little longer before breaking into a smile.

  “Thank you, you may leave. We will see you at the solstice,” Jacquard said.

  Kana did not need telling twice. He stood swiftly and said his farewell before practically running out of the room.

  “Do you believe him?” Jacquard asked.

  “Not in the slightest,” Jefferson said quickly. “The Shangonites are never to be trusted. Any man that hides behind a mask is afraid of his true self.”

  Jacquard turned to his son. Althalos had a habit of remaining silent unless directly spoken to. Whilst this behaviour was a good quality when he was young, he needed to grow out of the habit now that he was a man. Jacquard had come to trust his son’s instincts and found him highly perceptive.

  Althalos considered the question. He had inherited Jacquard’s smooth skin complexion that was quick to tan, leaving him a handsome bronze colour most of the time. He had decided to opt against growing the traditional beard that most Rivervale folk adopted. Instead he had decided to shave on a regular basis, so that he had permanent stubble on his face. His most striking features were his eyes. He had inherited these from his mother. They were a myriad of colours; mostly green but with blue and brown specks. Every time Jacquard looked into those eyes, he saw Mirinda and felt a mixture of joy and sadness.

  “I believe that Kana told the truth from his point of view. He has not spoken to Vashna himself, but I believe that the Yuridorians have contacted him. I believe that they have threatened his land and told him to stay silent. He is afraid and does not know what to do,” Althalos said.

  Jacquard beamed at his son and squeezed his hand. It was exactly what he had thought. If Althalos was pleased at this fatherly gesture, he didn’t let on.

  “I could investigate further with your permission?” Althalos suggested and then realised he could not possibly do this with the Ritual hanging over his head.

  Jacquard’s smile faded. He saw a lot of himself in his son. When he was his son’s age, he too had been keen to learn the art of war, to be treated as any other soldier and step out from his father’s shadow.

  “I’m afraid you have to remain in Lilyon, my son, until after the Ritual,” Jacquard said sadly.

  He could feel Jefferson’s gaze on him and was reminded of his friend’s suggestion to pretend Althalos was not one of the twelve selected. He had not made the news public knowledge yet.

  Why Jacquard had chosen not to divulge this information, he could not say. He certainly had not changed his mind. There would be no stopping Althalos from fulfilling his duty anyway. In an effort to steer the conversation away from the Ritual, he turned to Jefferson.

  “How can our information be so out of date? How could Vashna dominate his region so utterly and we be so unaware?” Althalos asked.

  Jefferson raised his hands in a hel
pless gesture.

  “I have no idea, my prince. I will have to investigate further. I don’t believe Vashna has infiltrated my network of spies. Even he could not have become that powerful so soon,” Jefferson said.

  “We must not underestimate him. We do not know what he has been doing over on the west coast. We have been deceived and must presume he has been concealing his true intentions from us for quite a while,” Althalos said.

  “Wise words but I have been an advisor for a number of years and do not need to be told the obvious. You are not king yet, you are still a child and have much to learn,” Jefferson said, annoyance in his tone.

  “Althalos is right. We must proceed with caution from now on and take nothing for granted,” Jacquard said, giving Jefferson a warning glance.

  “In that case, I will travel to Yurisdoria myself to see what I can discover,” Jefferson said.

  Jacquard dismissed the notion.

  “I appreciate the sentiment, but you are in no fit state to be gallivanting across Frindoth, my friend. Besides, I need you here for the Ritual. Send your most trusted man,” Jacquard said.

  “I know just the man,” Jefferson said, suppressing a grin.

  Chapter 11

  It was well into the morning when Rhact and his family caught sight of Mertyn’s wagon disappearing over the summit of the next hill. Rhact was determined not to let his relationship with his best friend fall apart and thus had prepared to meet Mertyn at sunrise to accompany them most of the way to Lilyon. The plan was to then pretend to turn back to Longcombe, but really find someplace in Frindoth to safely hide until he could figure out what to do. However, Mertyn, it seemed, had other ideas.

  His thoughts turned to last night. He had returned to his house after seeing the witch to find Kiana desperately trying to console Janna. She had one hand over her mouth trying to stifle the screams and was whispering soothing words in her ear. Janna looked like a terrified animal trapped in a cage that sensed its hunter was near. Her eyes were wide and looked around the room without really concentrating on anything in particular.

  For a moment, Rhact could only stand and stare at the scene. It was Jensen appearing behind him that prompted him into action. Not able to think of anything more constructive to do, he slapped Janna around the face for the first time in his life. When she did not stop screaming, he had done it a second time. This time she stopped and raised a hand to her swelling cheek, a look of disbelief on her face.

  He had been mortified and had thrown his arms around her and apologised. This had been followed by a knock at the door from a concerned neighbour. Jensen had got rid of them and dismissed Janna’s screams as a nightmare, nothing more. He had been impressed with his son’s quick thinking. He and Kiana had spent the rest of the night talking to Janna and easing her fears, whilst Jensen packed their belongings.

  After her initial emergence from the trance, Janna had been remarkably calm and lucid. She did not remember anything from the last couple of days, which worried Rhact, but once she showed a healthy appetite by wolfing down some mutton stew, he felt slightly easier.

  She was frightened and full of questions, but overall Rhact had managed to placate her fears by stressing he would not let anything happen to her. Jensen, on the other hand, had proved trickier. His son had packed their clothes and food under heavy protest, repeatedly criticising Rhact’s plan and calling him irresponsible.

  Rhact had tried reasoning with him and then finally snapped. He had picked up a chair in the kitchen and hurled it against a wall, causing it to shatter upon impact. He had then grabbed Jensen by his shirt and spun him round in a full circle before throwing him against the wall.

  “For once, do not argue against me. Do what every normal son does, and respect and obey your father’s judgement!” he had said.

  Jensen once again had been shocked by his display of rage.

  “Yes, s-s-s-sir,” he had stammered.

  In the past couple of nights, he had slapped his daughter and man-handled his son twice. Something, he had always told himself he would never do. They said the Ritual changed a family; he hoped this was not the effect it would have on him.

  This morning the atmosphere had been uneasy at best. Rhact noticed that Jensen now watched him out of the corner of his eye, as if he saw him in a new light. Kiana kissed him on the cheek as she settled next to him on the wagon, but it had done little to make him feel better.

  They travelled most of the morning. Under different circumstances, the journey would have been quite pleasant. It had been well over a week since he had saddled his horse “Flame” and attached the wagon to her. Rhact had accepted her as payment from a wealthy land owner over three years ago. At the time he had been disgruntled not to have received coin, but the land owner assured him of her pedigree. The man had been right, Flame was more than worth her weight in gold, pulling his wagon effortlessly.

  They traversed through the woods and were now out in the open fields. The ride to Lilyon was straightforward. The road was smooth and the scenery pleasant. There had been a lot of dew on the fields, the kind that shimmered in the sun.

  Janna was acting like her old self, asking question after question, to which Kiana was more than happy to respond. Even Jensen, who had been sitting in a sulk in the back of the wagon, had begun to talk a bit more. It was a lot for them to take. His children were only just beginning to understand what it was to be an adult.

  He normally loved Janna’s inquisitive nature and the way Jensen did not just simply follow orders, but liked to know why he was being asked to do something. They were good qualities to have. However, at the moment he just wanted to protect them from the world and in order to do that, they had to trust him.

  “So why can’t we tell them that I have a stone?” Janna asked again.

  “It is too dangerous, we do not know how they will react,” Kiana replied.

  “But they are our best friends,” Janna tried again.

  “Yes, but that does not mean they have the same ideas as us. Father tried to suggest they flee, honey, but Mertyn was very firm they should carry out their duty,” Kiana said.

  “Isn’t he right? Isn’t that what you should be doing with me?” Janna said.

  Kiana sighed. Rhact thought she looked even more tired. The last few days had taken it out of her just as much as anyone else.

  “That is what is expected of us, but your father and I do not want to place you in the position where you might be sacrificed.”

  “But, I want to be in that position. I would prefer not to be, but if that is my duty, then I want to carry it out.”

  Kiana smiled at her daughter.

  “And you are a very brave girl for wanting to do so.”

  “Please don’t patronise me. I do not want to be known in the bards’ songs as the only girl who refused to attend the Ritual and carry out her duty,” Janna insisted.

  “You see,” Jensen said, sensing he had support at last. “Even Janna wants to go through with the Ritual. Surely it is her choice as the stoneholder?”

  “Jensen, you are not helping!” Kiana said.

  “That is because I am not trying to help. For Gloom’s sake. Can you not see that this is wrong! This is not about looking after a member of our family. We do not have that luxury. This is about protecting Frindoth and appeasing the Gloom. You don’t get the choice of whether or not you want to join in the ancient custom.”

  Rhact pulled sharply on the reins and Flame came to a sudden halt, whinnying in protest. The packs that had been stacked on top of each other toppled to the floor of the wagon, narrowly missing Jensen. Rhact spun around in his seat to confront his children.

  “For Gloom’s sake, keep your voice down, you fool,” he said.

  He cringed as Jensen winced, bracing himself for the expectant blow. They all knew there was no one around to hear them. They had not seen another soul since they had started out this morning. Now they were out in the open space of the fields, they could see all around them. He
wanted to hold both of his children there and then, to reassure them he would never strike them again.

  “Tell them, sweetheart,” Kiana whispered in his ear.

  “Tell us what?” Jensen said.

  Rhact looked at his children. They seemed so frightened. It was unfair to ask them to go along with his plan without an explanation. They were right to question his motives. From their point of view, they just saw two parents that were being selfish and deluded in thinking they could protect their daughter.

  “Father?” Janna said expectantly.

  “I have been approached by the witch,” he said. A look of alarm spread across his children’s faces and so he continued quickly. “I don’t know what she wants. She sent Jon Slow to deliver a message for me to go and see her last night. She did not say too much, but I got the impression she will protect us if we do not go to Lilyon. She seems to be interested only in us. That is why we are not telling anyone of our plans.”

  “Can we trust her?” Janna asked.

  “No. Probably not,” Rhact conceded, “but I would rather take my chances with her than risk taking you to the Ritual.”

  Janna nodded, she seemed to accept this. Jensen, on the other hand, was not totally satisfied.

  “But she hasn’t actually said she will help us? So instead of going to Lilyon and knowing what we have to deal with, you are happy to consult with a witch whom we know nothing about?” he said.

  Rhact stared at his son. Why could he never just go along with what he said?

  “Yes, son, that is about the crux of it,” Rhact said.

  “So why are we chasing after your good friend?” Jensen said. He sneered as he emphasised the word “good”. Rhact bristled at the insinuation. “Why are we even bothering?”

  “Because,” Rhact said through gritted teeth. “He is my best friend and I don’t want to leave him having had the exchange of words we had last night.”

  “So you want to see him one more time to make amends before you betray him?” Jensen said.

  Rhact did not reply. He was not prepared to add anything more. He was exhausted from arguing with his son. Jensen sensed this, snorted in disgust and slipped back into his sulk. It was then Kiana caught sight of Mertyn’s wagon disappearing over the apex of the next hill. Rhact whipped his horse to give chase. The sandy-coloured mare responded immediately, eager to stretch her legs.