by Sam Ferguson
“Hatcha mo, no’aka,” she said as she bowed briefly before turning and continuing on around the house.
“Odd reaction to strangers,” Rafe commented.
Erik nodded and watched as the old woman disappeared from sight. The door opened again, and an elderly man came out. He had a toothless smile and walked with a cane.
“Come,” he said in Common Tongue. “I take you. Come.” He motioned for Erik and the others to follow him. His upper body was slightly stooped over, with a noticeable hump in his back over the right side of his spine at the base of his neck, but he maintained a quick pace as he walked, leading them down a dirt path toward the mountain.
“Not at all what I expected,” Rafe whispered to Erik.
“Me either,” Erik replied. Where were the wizards and the strange relics? Where were the books and the weapons? What kind of cult cares for herds of caribou and keeps itself tucked away in the furthest reaches of the Impassable Spine mountain range?
They walked another mile or so until they approached a large dome made of gray stone. There were no windows, and only a single door in the structure. The old man turned and held out his cane to stop Erik and the others.
“You wait here. I go.”
They watched as he went to the door and gave a series of taps with his cane.
The door opened and three individuals came out, all female. Nothing about this encounter turned out the way Erik had imagined. Instead of fancy clothes, the women all wore rough spun robes of brown. Their feet were protected with sandals, something which was never worn anywhere in the Middle Kingdom except inside of large homes when the weather was too hot to use slippers comfortably. Each of the women wore smiles, with their hair in braided buns atop their heads.
“Welcome, strangers,” the black-haired woman in the middle said as they approached. The old man waved and smiled as he left Erik and the others alone with the women.
“How may we be of assistance?” a woman with gray hair asked.
“We… um…” Erik couldn’t think of how to introduce himself. He had expected to find a peculiar group of people dabbling in occult magic and rituals, not farmers and simple folk.
“I’m sorry, but we have come looking for the Cult of Zammin,” Lady Arkyn said openly. “Have we come to the wrong place?”
The three women bowed at the waist. “That is the name outsiders call us by, though it is not the true name of our settlement,” the red haired woman stated politely. “We are the Followers of Zammin.”
Lady Arkyn bowed her head in slight deference. “No insult intended.”
“None taken,” the black haired woman said. “I am Zefra, the woman on my right is Oria, and this is our mother, Dora.”
“I am Lady Arkyn, an agent to King Mathias,” Lady Arkyn offered.
“My name is Rafe,” Rafe said quickly, suspiciously leaving out his surname.
“I am Erik Lokton, the Champion of Truth,” Erik added finally.
Zefra approached Erik and held her hand out toward him, palm out and level with his eyes. “You have a strange aura about you,” she said. “Are you sahale?” Erik bristled while Rafe and Lady Arkyn tensed and prepared to reach for their weapons. “I have startled you,” Zefra said apologetically as she pulled her hand back. “No harm was meant.”
“She is the high priestess of Zammin,” Dora put in proudly. “She has a gift for sensing gifts other people possess.”
Zefra turned to Lady Arkyn and smiled. “May I?”
Lady Arkyn nodded.
Zefra raised her hand and closed her eyes. “Lady Arkyn is not only a skilled archer, but has powerful magic running through her.”
“Destructive?” Dora asked.
Zefra shook her head. “No, mostly it is the ability to communicate with animals, though she does possess some healing abilities as well.” Zefra then turned to face Rafe. She started to raise her hand, but he reached out and gently pressed it back down.
“I’d rather you didn’t do that with me,” he said.
“If the high priestess is to invite you inside, then she must inspect you,” Oria explained. “It will not harm you.”
“Well then, if it’s all the same to you, I’d rather wait outside.”
Erik nodded, figuring that Rafe was trying to protect the secret of his blood. “He can wait out here,” Erik told Zefra. “He will not cause any trouble.”
Zefra nodded her head and relaxed her arm. “Then, the two of you wish to come inside and join us, but he will remain out here and live with the caribou?”
“Live with the caribou?” Rafe echoed. “We didn’t come to join your little commune, we—”
Erik held up a hand. “Actually, I just have some questions. We are here on official business.”
“We do not recognize the authority of King Mathias here,” Zefra pointed out. “These lands do not belong to him, nor do they belong to the dragons.”
Erik called upon his power and did a bit of inspecting for himself. He checked all three of the women very carefully, and found only peaceful intentions within them. Knowing this, he felt he had a good idea of how to start the discussion. “I will be plain and straightforward,” Erik said. “Recently, many sahale were murdered. I have taken up the investigation to find the party responsible. Now, I don’t believe any of you three to be involved, but I have come because of a very special kind of magic.”
“He speaks of the binding spell,” Zefra told the other women.
“Zefra, are you certain we can trust him?” Dora asked.
“Yes, I am,” she replied evenly. “We know of the magic you speak of. It was placed within our care many centuries ago, and has remained here in our stewardship until it was recently stolen.”
Erik frowned. “You didn’t create the spell that prevents a sahale from taking their dragon form?”
Zefra shook her head. “We have no need for such a spell. We live in peace, hundreds of miles away from anyone that would wish to do us any harm. We do not venture beyond our borders, and others do not trespass upon our territory.”
“Then who gave you the spell?” Lady Arkyn asked.
Zefra nodded slowly. “It is best if we speak inside. The dome protects us from outsiders that would pry into our private lives with their unholy scrying magic.”
Lady Arkyn and Erik shared a look. Now it made sense why Njar couldn’t find the Cult of Zammin. The dome was deflecting the magic he used.
Rafe went and found a large rock to sit on while Erik and Lady Arkyn followed the women back toward the dome. Immediately upon walking through the portal, Erik noticed that the temperature was much warmer inside than outside. It wasn’t unpleasant, but had he been wearing anything heavier than the covering of leaves and the patchwork pants, it very well might have been. The interior of the dome was not an open space, as he had suspected. There were hallways and doors in each direction he looked. In many respects, it resembled the interior of a large fortress. While the outer shell may have been rounded, everything on the inside was square.
Zefra led them into the hallway straight ahead and stopped at the third door on the right. She opened it and gestured for Erik and Lady Arkyn to go inside. “Will you be in need of refreshment? We have caribou milk, goat cheese, different types of fruits, and other items available at your request.” Erik thought the idea of caribou milk sounded intriguing. He opted for some of that, while Lady Arkyn graciously declined the offer, insisting that she was not yet hungry. Zefra nodded and then looked to her mother. Dora bowed and then walked down the hall, presumably to fetch the drink. Zefra then looked at Erik’s clothing. “The Followers of Zammin do not occupy their time in the pursuit of elegant clothing, but I think I can safely say that we might have something that would offer you better protection than what you are currently wearing.
Erik wiggled his dirty, bare toes and smiled. “I would be happy for anything you could provide.” Zefra nodded and then looked to Oria. The red head smiled and started to walk, but Erik held up a hand and calle
d out to her. “If I may impose, Rafe could also use a fresh change of clothes.”
Oria bowed at the waist.
“Thank you,” Erik said. “I’m afraid that I don’t have money to pay you for your hospitality.”
“The Followers of Zammin take pleasure in serving others. We have no use for money. Your thanks is more than enough to repay us for this small offering.” Zefra pointed toward a simple bed. “If you wish to rest, please make yourself comfortable.”
“I thought we were going to talk,” Erik replied.
Zefra nodded. “Yes, once you have changed and refreshed yourselves, then we will speak. Please, take your time. I shall have a wash basin brought in for you.” Zefra closed the door and walked down the hall.
Lady Arkyn moved to the door and quietly tested the knob. “Well, at least she didn’t lock us in,” she commented.
Erik smiled. “It’s all right, they mean us no harm. I checked.”
“And what if your powers are as useless here as they were in the Natchy Moors?”
Erik shrugged and took off the tunic of leaves and vines before dropping himself down onto the bed at the end of the room. “This is much better than hollowed out trees or marshy grass,” he said as he closed his eyes.”
“You act as though you have never slept in a bed before,” Lady Arkyn teased.
“Well, it feels like I have never been in a bed so comfortable before.” He patted a spot next to him. “Come and see for yourself.”
“This is hardly the time for a nap,” Lady Arkyn commented.
Erik ignored her and flopped an arm over his eyes. He could hear her soft footsteps coming toward him. She settled into a cuddling position with him and placed her head and left hand on his chest. This was the most intimate they had been since reuniting, and though it excited Erik, it also made him slightly nervous. He put his arm around her and held her tight. Neither of them spoke. They laid there silently, enjoying each other’s company and drifting on the edge of sleep and consciousness. Erik listened as Minrielle’s breathing became deeper and more rhythmic. She didn’t snore, but he could tell that she had slipped into slumber. Erik might have as well, except he was afraid of having a nightmare while so close to her, so he remained awake, thinking about the times they had shared before he had insisted they separate for a while. Lying here with her now, he felt foolish for sending her away. He realized now that her reassurances over the last couple of weeks had been far more powerful at calming his demons than any amount of meditating he performed at the monastery far to the south. She gave him a surge of strength that couldn’t be imitated or replaced. Was that the difference between love and lust? The uplifting bond that made him more than he could be on his own, and demanded that he help her in the same way? Perhaps he had been a fool for sending her away. He had been unconscious back in the Natchy Moors, and neither she nor Rafe had complained about him thrashing about with nightmares.
A knock came at the door, pulling him from his thoughts. He slowly sat up as Minrielle woke and moved off of the bed before the door opened and a woman they hadn’t met came in, struggling to carry a large, stone basin. She set it in the middle of the floor as another woman entered with two buckets of water and a large sea sponge. She set the items near the basin and then bowed as she left the room.
Erik went to the basin and poured a bit of water in so he could begin washing his feet. While he was doing that, Dora returned with a small wooden cup of caribou milk, and Oria came with a fresh change of clothes. Erik finished cleaning his feet and did a quick once over on his upper body with the sponge before dressing himself in the provided pants, tunic, and boots. Lady Arkyn used the remaining fresh water to wash her face, neck, and arms.
“Shall we go?” she asked as Erik downed the caribou milk.
Erik nodded. They went to the door and opened it to find Zefra standing just down the hall. She smiled at them and motioned for them to follow her.
“Do the clothes suit you?” she asked.
“They are excellent, thank you,” Erik replied. He was surprised that they had managed to guess his size so accurately, but everything fit perfectly, even the boots. They walked down the hall and then turned right along a new corridor before finally coming to a large door. Zefra opened it and the three went into a library roughly twenty feet square.
Erik smiled. This was more like it. There were shelves of books lining the walls, more bookcases standing along the floor, and a large table in the center of the room for studying. Many of the tomes had languages written upon their spines that he could identify, but many more had foreign languages that he did not recognize.
“Do you know much of Zammin?” Zefra asked as she gestured for them to sit.
They both answered that they did not and sat down.
“No, I suppose most outsiders have little knowledge of our founder,” Zefra said with a hesitant smile. “Well, in any case we do not often receive visitors. In your case, I could sense an urgency, however, and so I have allowed for a breach in our protocol and brought you directly into our inner library. I do not wish our society to be affiliated with the murders you spoke of. While we did care for the spell, it was neither of our design, nor could we use it ourselves. Our magical abilities align more with the pursuit of knowledge and peace. In a way, we seek to be like the Natural Races of Terramyr, trying to find harmony and balance within the world.”
“I have to ask,” Erik interrupted. “What do you know of the Four Horsemen?”
The color drained from Zefra’s face. “I was not aware that was one of your interests,” she replied.
Erik nodded. “We are here because of the murders, but, before we talk about those, I have to know something. Do you, any of you, know how to defeat the Four Horsemen?”
Zefra studied Erik curiously for a few moments while she chewed on her lower lip. “The Four Horsemen are not a topic we like to discuss. Before I answer, I must know why you ask.”
Erik called upon his power once more and scanned Zefra to ensure that her intentions were indeed friendly. Afterward, he recounted to her his entire history with Tu’luh, starting with his training in Kuldiga Academy, and ending with the battle at Fort Drake. He was careful to emphasize how Tu’luh’s vision had given him doubts concerning the fate of Terramyr, and that he wished to find a way to prevent the Four Horsemen from coming if he could, but that in the event they came, he wanted to know how to stop them from destroying the world. After he finished his recounting, Zefra sat quietly for a long time.
“I’m sorry to bore you with the details,” Erik said. “But, I wanted to make sure you knew who I really am, and why I need to know everything I can about the Four Horsemen.”
Zefra nodded. “I could tell you were special when I first met you, but I had no idea that you were so important.”
Erik frowned. “I wasn’t meaning to boast,” he assured her.
“No, it isn’t that,” Zefra responded quickly. “What I mean is that there have been turning points in our history that many are unaware of. In the early days of our society, the Followers of Zammin were like you, battle-weary and looking for answers. Many of them had heard about the Four Horsemen as well, and so they began to study them intently. Unfortunately, most races and societies have either forgotten about the Four Horsemen, or they choose not to believe in them or their power. Those that do still believe in their existence are too afraid to discuss them openly, as you do. That is why your question took me by surprise. I have not heard mention of them by anyone outside of this dome for a very long time.”
“You speak as though you have the life span of an elf,” Lady Arkyn said.
Zefra nodded and gave a smile. “I may look young, but I am over three hundred years old.”
“Do all of your people live that long?” Erik asked.
Zefra shook her head. “Only those who are descendants of the original founding members. There is a magic that runs through us which extends our life. Others who join us can live to the fullest of their norma
l lifespans, sometimes a few years longer, but we are the longest living people here, and as such the responsibilities of governing and protecting our society falls to us, as well as recording our history. When I am four hundred, I shall relinquish my station and give it to my younger sister, and the cycle shall continue.”
“So, do you know something about the Four Horsemen then?” Erik pressed.
Zefra hesitated. “Not exactly,” she said. “While it is true that many of our earlier members researched the topic greatly, in the last several centuries, we have become less interested in this area of study.”
Erik turned his hands up on the table in a questioning gesture. “Why? What could be more interesting than this exact subject? What could have a more profound impact on Terramyr as a whole?”
Zefra nodded. “I understand your insistence, but you have to understand. We collected the best, most complete collection of materials on the Four Horsemen. None of the Followers of Zammin ever found a single clue to their weaknesses. In fact, we discovered only the opposite. The Four Horsemen have no weaknesses. Once they come to a world, and deem it worthy of destruction, there is nothing that can stop them. Our world is one of many in a vast universe that most mortals cannot comprehend. Many have lived and died before us, and one day, Terramyr will die as well.”
“So you gave up,” Erik concluded for her.
Zefra shook her head. “No, we just learned that sometimes there are problems for which no solutions exist. The only sure way to keep the Four Horsemen from coming to our world is to live in balance and harmony. That is what we have devoted ourselves to now. We have over three thousand people that live here, and not once during my lifetime has there ever been a theft, murder, or even a lie told.”
“Truly?” Lady Arkyn asked incredulously.
Zefra nodded. “The Followers of Zammin are devout, and dedicated to keeping balance. While other humans give themselves to lust and greed, we temper ourselves and share all that we possess. We are not without disputes, of course, but by the time a child reaches the age of twelve, they are expected to behave in the proper manner.”