Thankfully, at that moment Gin and Nicoldani returned from riding. As they were approaching, Nicoldani was sharing Gin’s wide smile but he allowed it to slip from his face when they got near and he return to his normal stoic expression.
“Did you see me Jak? Did you see me? Wasn’t I good? I can ride good, can’t I?” Gin said, clapping her hands excitedly and bouncing on her toes.
Even though Jak hadn’t really been watching her ride, the little girl’s enthusiasm was infectious and he answered, “Yes, you are very good.”
Jak was happy that Gin seemed to be taking a liking to Nicoldani. When the big man was around her, he seemed to drop his guard a little. For that matter, he would even drop his stony veneer around Jak sometimes as well. Jak wouldn’t have suspected this from a man like Nicoldani. He seemed like the kind of man that wouldn’t have time for children; they would just be an annoyance to him. But it turned out not to be the case with Nicoldani. There were times the big man seemed unsure of what to do when it came to the youngsters, but the more time they had spent with him the more he seemed to open up.
Sometimes, Nicoldani even reminded Jak of a big kid. In some things, it was as if the man was discovering the world for the first time. This was odd, since the big man was old enough to be Jak’s father, if not grandfather. Nicoldani was well traveled and educated, but there were things concerning everyday life that he seemed to have never experienced before. However, whenever there were other grown-ups around, his mask would return stoic, serious, and showing little emotion.
Everyone spent the rest of the afternoon relaxing and enjoying the short break from traveling. Jak hadn’t felt this relaxed since that night in the cave with Brigette, just before he heard the woman calling to him. He was enjoying himself so much and was relaxed enough that he even took a bath in the river that was nearby. Benjim said it was called the Sanchi River. The bath was much needed and refreshing, and it made Jak feel even better.
Jak had enough free time on his hands that he began to look around and notice that there were many varieties of trees and shrubs here that he had never seen before. Having been born and raised in the high country of Hlifglynn, the plants and trees surrounding that area were the only ones he was familiar with. It was almost like being in a different world for him with all strange new flowers, bushes, and trees. But on the other hand, there were still plenty of familiar ones as well, since they hadn’t traveled that far from Elsdon yet.
The thought staggered Jak, that before now he had never left Hlifglynn. The farthest that his father or older brothers would ever go was Kragston, to trade for supplies. Jak had now traveled farther than any of them had ever gone, even though he really hadn’t gone very far yet. He guessed, considering the road ahead, they hadn’t really even begun their journey. That thought excited him in a way since there was a whole huge new world out there to explore.
Later in the day, Gin wanted to go exploring in the areas surrounding their campsite and asked Jak to go with her. Surprisingly Benjim asked if he could go along, saying a nice walk would be good for him.
It wasn’t long before Jak thought Gin had been right when she said that the old man knew everything. When Gin would ask, what is this …..or what kind of tree is that…….or just about anything, the old man always had the answer. Maybe he didn’t know everything, but he did seem to know a great deal about most things. Neither of the youngsters had been able to ask the old man a question that he did not know the answer.
As sunset approached, they gathered around the fire for the evening meal. Overall, Jak thought it had been a pretty good day. Everyone ate in relative silence without much conversation. Afterwards, Jak decided to turn-in since they were going to be leaving early the next morning. Benjim and Gin decide they would go to bed as well. Nicoldani, who seemed like he never needed sleep, said he would remain awake for a time.
It took Jak a little while before he could actually fall asleep, but when he did manage to find sleep, the bad dreams and nightmares greeted him like and old friend. He dreamt of killing the people at this grandparent’s farm. He dreamt of Brigette, who was not really herself, calling to him, beckoning him to follow her, and of course, he dreamt of his mother. He could not seem to escape the horrible nightmares of her.
When morning finally came, Jak felt less rested than when he went to sleep. But they needed to be on their way, so they gathered their belongings and set out south.
The winding road followed fairly near the banks of the Sanchi River, meandering its way south. The Achii Mountains ran a jagged saw tooth line alongside to the east, but Jak wasn’t sure why they were called mountains since they looked more like large hills to him. After all, there was hardly any snow that he could see. With only a small amount of snow visible at the very tops, they didn’t seem that much bigger than the low rolling foothills off to the west, on the other side of the river.
The North Sanchi Road, as it was called, wasn’t much of a road. It was not well traveled this far north, and was even washed out with deep ruts in several areas. The way was slow and sometimes tedious, and it seemed to Jak that it was getting hotter. He was used to the cooler mountain air of Elsdon. This seemed much hotter and he even had to unlace his shirt. He found himself wishing he had a hat to shade his head from the sun.
Gin was doing surprisingly well on her little mare, Hofsi. She had no trouble keeping up with the larger horses, especially considering the pace was so slow.
Nicoldani lead the way, with Benjim and Gin following behind him, and Jak bringing up the rear. Gin had been trying to talk with Benjim all morning, but the old man was not his talkative self. His answers to her questions were abruptly short, if at all, and he didn’t elaborate or explain further as he usually would.
The old man seemed to be in his own little world. Jak began to notice that the old man seemed to be studying … everything. Wherever Benjim looked, it was with intent and purpose, seeming to want to capture every detail, cataloguing and filing it away.
Jak even noticed him studying the other members of their small party, including himself. It was odd, and made him feel like he was being watched, perhaps because he really was, since the old man made no effort to disguise the fact. Jak supposed it all had to do with the conversation he had with the old man the day before about living history, or something like that.
Gin finally gave up on Benjim and moved on to Nicoldani. “Where are we going?” she almost had to shout up at him. It was a comical sight, with Gin on her tiny mare, riding next to the giant of a man on his large warhorse.
“What? Oh,” Nicoldani said, glancing down at her, “we are going south.” He said absently, as his eyes returned to scanning the road ahead.
“I know that silly,” If Gin weren’t on horseback, she would have been standing with her hands on her hips, giving the big man a long-suffering look, “but where are we going?”
Nicoldani’s rough exterior began to melt a little talking to the little girl. “Don’t you worry about it little one. You’ll know when we get there.”
“But how will I know?” she asked, before adding, with a pouty look for the big man, “And I’m not little.”
Nicoldani smiled, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to say you were, Gineara. How about I tell you when we get there, that way you will know that we have arrived.”
“I told you, you can call me Gin. And I don’t want to wait until we get there. Why can’t I know now?”
When Nicoldani wouldn’t give her a straight answer, she gave up on that line of questioning.
“Where are you from Nic?”
Nicoldani gave her a sideways look before answering. “From the west, a place called Dallonburo.”
“Dallonburo, that sounds like a nice place. How big is it?”
“Very big”
“As big as Kragston?” Gin asked expectantly.
Nicoldani laughed. “Much larger than Kragston, you could fit many, many villages the size of Kragston in Dallonburo, and still have room for more.”
“Yes, it is very big, and there is even a queen in Dallonburo. Her palace in the capital city of Dallonburo but she is the queen of all Odessia.”
“A Queen? Is she nice? How big is Odessia?”
The barrage continued for quite some time and Jak eventually stopped listening, becoming lost in his own thoughts.
The rest of the day remained uneventful, and when they finally stopped for the night, Jak was relieved since he was starting to get tender from being in the saddle so long. He wasn’t used to riding in a saddle, and especially not riding all day long.
Shortly after setting up camp, Jak noticed that Benjim was back to his usual self, friendly and talkative. He was not preoccupied like he had been most of the ride that day. The abrupt change in the old man seemed a little odd to Jak, but he just shrugged it off.
By the time they had eaten and the dishes were cleaned up, Gin was already nodding off, being tired from the long day of riding. Jak picked her up and laid her down in her bedroll, pulling her blanket up around her shoulders. “Good night Gin,” he said softly.
“Good night,” she murmured, before falling off to sleep.
Jak was feeling tired so he decided to turn in as well, but Nicoldani and Benjim remained talking near the fire. Jak was lying a little ways from the two men, but still within earshot. He was having a difficult time falling asleep, afraid that the nightmares would come again. As he lay there, he was halfway listening to what the older men were saying. After a time, he heard Nicoldani asking something about the old man. Jak was almost asleep by then, but something the old man said caught his attention.
“Some might consider me a historian. I prefer to think of myself more as a student of history, a Watcher.” The word watcher implied more. The emphasis Benjim put on the word said “The Watcher” rather than a watcher. It piqued Jak’s interest, and he started listening to the conversation.
“What about you? Unless fashions have changed from what I remember, you would be one of the Brotherhood of the Watch,” Benjim said casually.
Nicoldani’s head shot up and his eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?” Nicoldani said noncommittally, not really understanding what the old man was implying.
“Judging by your Kalna in your hair, and the Kerpai you carry…. if I am not mistaken, that would make you Tovani, The Brotherhood of the Watch.
Nicoldani sat there with his mouth gaping open and his eyes wide, struggling for words that would not come. Finally his mouth snapped shut, then he licked his lips before he spoke, “I am Tovani. I don’t know this brotherhood of the watch you speak of.
Benjim shook his head in sadness and disbelief. “So much is lost,” he muttered to himself, “You do not know? Tovani, in the old tongue means Brotherhood of the Watch.
Nicoldani’s eyes danced from side to side and he shifted uncomfortable on his seat, as he struggle to make sense of what the old man was saying.
“Do you think I am so old, and my eyes are so blind, that I didn’t notice them in your hair and behind your belt? They are a beacon to anyone who knows. But then again, it is my fear that few, if any, are left that really know.
Do you, Brother of the Watch, truly know?” Benjim asked with a penetrating look.
‘Know what? What are you getting at old man?” Nicoldani wore a frown and irritation was beginning to creep into his voice.
“Do you truly know your purpose? Do you know what being Tovani means?” The old man asked in a tone that demanded and answer.
“Of course I do. I trained all my life for it. It is my life.” The big man said as if trying to convince himself. “We stand guard over the Blood Witch’s prison at Gethseena to ensure that she can never break free,” but there was bitterness in his voice at the last.
“Is that so?” Benjim said with a patient smile, “then why is she free?”
Nicoldani glared, with his lips pressed tight together and brows lowered until they almost covered his fierce eyes. Nicoldani was not the type of man you wanted angry with you, and Benjim was treading on dangerous ground. But the old man seemed not to notice and instead, he continued unperturbed. “But do you know the truth?”
“I know the truth,” Nicoldani snapped. “I know….” he bit off his words abruptly, unwilling to give up the secrets the High Priest had unveiled to him at Gethseena.
Benjim sat there for several moments shaking his head and muttering about lost things. Finally he spoke, “Do you think the purpose of the Tovani was to guard the witch’s prison cell? Or is it that you thought you were guarding the Staff of Power? Or was it something else you were guarding?”
Nicoldani, too shocked to answer just shook his head. How did this old man know these things, especially about the staff? With the death of the High Priest, Nicoldani thought that he was the only one still living who knew that dangerous secret.
“Tovani mean’s Brotherhood of the Watch, not brotherhood of the guards,” Benjim continued in a lecturing tone.
“What were you guarding? If you were guarding the Blood Witch, then why is she now free? The fact is, you were not supposed to be guarding anything. You were supposed to be watching.
The prophecies foretold that the witch would break free once again, there was nothing you, or anyone could do to stop it. You were not supposed to be guarding, but watching.”
“We were guarding the witch’s staff, so if she broke free she could not retrieve it,” Nicoldani blurted out before he realized what he was saying.”
Immediately, he wished he had his words back. He had spoken in haste and anger, divulging the secret the High Priest had entrusted to him. The location of the staff was supposed to be a secret from all. Although this old man seemed to somehow already know that secret.
Benjim sat there shaking his head back and forth while chuckling, “Son, do you think King Erlandas and the mordji would have been so short sighted as to actually put the staff in the place where it was announced the Blood Witch was being imprisoned? Do you not think that eventually her followers would try and break her free from where they believed she was being held? What good would the trickery do if all it served was to put the staff into the hands of her followers, who were trying to break her free?
The objective of a good ruse is misdirection and misinformation. The witch was never imprisoned at Gethseena. I think you already know that by now. But the staff was never there either. All of the rumors and deceptions were to confuse and confound. If it would have played out as intended the witch would still be imprisoned. However, time passes and history rewrites itself. What was intended is not what happens.”
“What do you mean? Wasn’t the intention to keep the witch’s cell a secret so her followers could not break her free?” The anger was gone from Nicoldani’s eyes, replaced by doubt and inquiry.
“Oh, but she is free, is she not? So did it really matter if they knew exactly where she was or not?”
Nicoldani had no answer for that.
“You see, neither the witch, nor her staff was ever at Gethseena. Their location remained a secret known only to the ones that hid them and to none else.
Gethseena was to serve as a cover, a decoy so to speak. There were to be four of the Arch-Mordji at Gethseena, one facing north, one south, east, and west, to watch and maintain the wards.
Four other locations were also to be maintained, each having four mordji at each of the four points of the compass. These mordji were the Watchers. In this way, the shield on the witch’s prison could never be broken, that is, at least not without an extremely coordinated effort and knowledge of the location of all the mordji. The attackers would have to know where all of the twenty mordji that maintained the shield were located, and destroy them simultaneously. Such an undertaking would be all but impossible.
But as time passes and memory fades to myth and is forgotten, the very institution that was set to watch deteriorated.
In the beginning, the Tovan
i were assigned to protect the mordji. But more importantly, they were set to watch for signs of the witch’s impending freeing and the gathering of her followers. There were five thousand Tovani in those days. If fanatics rose up, the Tovani could squash any rebellions quickly. Or in the unlikely event that the witch was somehow freed, they could stop her followers from flocking to her, giving the mordji time to deal with her. The Tovani were to be the Brotherhood of the Watch. All and all it, was a nearly perfect system that had been established.
But as the watchers watched year after year, century after century, with nothing happening they began to loose faith. They changed the rites and forgot their purpose.
After enough time passed, the mordji grew weaker in their arts. Secrets were lost and complacency set in.
Eventually, the last of the mordji all but died out, but not before they passed their duties on to the priests of Ashteri.
By this time however, the lore and information that was commonly believed concerning the witch, and more especially their duties as Watchers, was far from the truth. They had distorted the truth to the point where some actually believed the Blood Witch was imprisoned at Gethseena. And some took up the other deception, that is was the staff that was there.
You see, pride took over and they believed it was better to guard something, rather than watch for nothing, as they supposed. I am sure you can relate to that.” The old man finished with a knowing look.
Nicoldani shook his head slowly, knowing all too well what the old man meant. When it was first revealed to him that he had not been guarding the Blood Witch, as he had believed all his life, it was a blow to his pride and made him doubt his purpose.
Benjim continued as if he was teaching a student, “The Tovani dwindled in numbers as did the priests, to the point where, from what I last heard, only five hundred Tovani stood guard, and less than fifteen priests, with none of them really knowing their true purpose.
Their failure in keeping the faith, and the Watch, was the very thing that allowed the prophecy to be fulfilled and the witch to be unleashed.
The Blood Witch (The Blood Reign Chronicles Book 1) Page 17