Voice of the Chosen (Spirit of Empire, Book Three)

by Lawrence White

  “I can try.”

  “Okay. I want you to prepare an imaginary setting for us. I want him to wake up in a forest clearing at night with a fire between us. Can you do that?”

  “Yes.”

  “He can’t know at that point that he’s on the ship.”

  “I understand. It will appear to him that he is in a clearing in the forest. It will be just you two, the forest, and the fire. Correct?”

  “No. I need two other things. He needs a sword, and so do I.”

  “Imaginary swords?”

  “Yes, but he’s to believe they’re real. You need to help me on this: I’ve never fought with a sword. I need to counter each strike that he makes, as if I’m an expert. Can you do that?”

  “Together we can.”

  “I might bring other things into this if it works, like a night sky filled with stars.”

  “I can do that.”

  “You have one other task. I don’t know how thoughts work on the net, but we need to develop translator devices that convert his language. I can’t stay in the net with him forever.”

  “I will work on that, but it takes time.”

  * * * * *

  Washburn waited tensely as the man on the other side of the fire stirred. Long, matted hair just beginning to gray and a beard and mustache of the same hid the man’s face from him. The man sat up, confused. The dim light of the fire created deep shadows around his eyes, and Washburn felt a sudden wave of déjà vu, as if he himself was one of his ancestors sitting around such a fire. The stranger rose to a sitting position, then suddenly a crouch, and his eyes swept the clearing. Those eyes took in Washburn sitting on the far side of the fire, but they kept moving to take in the rest of his surroundings. This man was, clearly, an instinctual survivor. In the blink of an eye, he was on his feet, his heavy sword held out before him. Washburn rose to meet him, his own sword held at the ready.

  The man, his wide-spaced eyes glinting inside deep pools of shadow, sidestepped around the fire. Washburn moved with him, keeping the fire between them, but he remained silent. With this man, certain things had to happen before talking could begin.

  Suddenly, the man was on him, having jumped over the fire. Washburn met him squarely, sword upon sword, using all his strength to hold that sword at bay. Though the man was no match against Washburn’s brute strength, a lifetime of living by the sword compensated fully. A foot lashed out at Washburn who parried with a twist and disengaged. He moved back, but the man stayed with him, the sword cutting a horizontal swath that Washburn barely avoided. He brought his own sword down from right to left with both hands. The man’s sword moved faster than thought and the two blades met hard. A quick riposte by Washburn met with another clash, then the man twisted his sword and nearly skewered Washburn. He dodged right, then parried with a slash that was met and countered with ease.

  “Well met,” Washburn thought.

  The strangers mouth lifted into a thin grin as his sword rose in both hands, then slashed down. Washburn was no longer there, having moved a pace to his left, and he moved in with his sword down to hold the strangers sword down. His foot lashed out, but the stranger lifted a leg to take the brunt of the kick on his thigh. As he did so, his sword swung up and around, slashing at Washburn’s neck from the right.

  Washburn moved in close, too close for the sword to cut, and used the butt of his sword to cudgel the man. The man didn’t even blink. He just stepped back, shook his head, then came at Washburn again with an upward thrust.

  Washburn stepped away, then both swords clashed as Washburn’s rose and the others’ descended. Washburn thrust the man from him and took a step back, placing the tip of his sword into the ground and leaning on it.

  “Enough?”

  “Who are you?” the man asked.

  “The man who killed the beast.”

  “You killed the demon?”

  “Not a demon, just a beast.”

  “You were there?”

  “I was. It is dead.”

  “My men?”

  “All dead.”

  The stranger stared hard at him, his own sword now held low. Then, he too stuck his sword into the ground and leaned on it with a sigh. “I am dead.”

  “You’re not dead, but you nearly were. Look at your armor.”

  The man looked down at the shredded armor on his torso, then took one hand from his sword to feel the wounds. Dangerous eyes lifted back to Washburn.

  “I don’t know you.”

  “Nor I you, but together we fought the beast and won.”

  “Perhaps. This time.”

  “There are many more of them. Together we can prevail. Your people can prevail.”

  “My people? Who are you?”

  “An outsider, but one who offers help. Will you talk?”

  “You are a fighter.”

  “We are both warriors. Join me in my fight against the beasts.”

  “The demons.”

  Washburn lowered his head in a nod. “To you they are demons. Work with me and I will show that they are but beasts you can kill.”

  “How? We can’t even see them.”

  “Do you believe in dreams?”

  “Is this one?”

  “In a way. Look at your armor. Your wounds were fatal, yet you live and your wounds are healing.”

  The man’s hand went to his torso again. “Because we’re in a dream.”

  “When the dream ends, you will still have the wounds. I have bound them up and saved you. I need a partner if I am to continue fighting the beasts.”

  “You are but one man.”

  “I am many men. Listen to me, and I will explain. But first, you must put down your sword. I will do the same. Do this in the name of your people.”

  The man stared at him, the hard look of a warrior meeting the hard look of a warrior. After a time, he set his sword beside himself. Washburn did the same, then stepped up to him.

  “I am a friend, and I speak for others when I say we will not desert you. I have many friends, and if you and I can come to an accord, we will help you defeat the beasts.”

  “You know how to fight the demons?”

  “I do. Sit with me and let me explain.”

  Washburn moved toward the fire and sat. The stranger, still not certain, sat across from him, his sword within easy reach.

  “What is your name?”

  “I am Sir Galborae.”

  Washburn nodded. “I am Terry Washburn.”

  “I do not know you. You are not from here.”

  “I am not, and that is part of my story.” Washburn looked up through the small opening in the forest to look at the stars. “What do you see up there?”

  “Just the night sky.”

  “And the tiny points of light?”

  “Just that.”

  “This is where it gets hard. Each of those tiny points of light is another sun, just like your own.”

  “You speak strangely, but this is, after all, only a dream.”

  “Some of those points of light, those suns, are the homes of other people, including mine. I’m from there.” The man just stared at him. “So, too, are the beasts,” Washburn added after a time.

  Sir Galborae’s head nodded. “They appeared suddenly. I do not know where they came from, but they are not from here. The gods must have sent them.”

  “What, you’re so terrible that you must suffer for your sins?”

  “Just so.”

  “Not so. They are beasts, and they are from another world. They were brought here by my enemies.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know. It doesn’t matter. I wage battles on many fronts. This is just one of them. My battles do not concern you, but the beasts do. I am prepared to give you the tools to defeat them, but you will be sorely pressed. Will you open your mind to new ideas?”

  “I serve my King. If defeating the beasts requires new ideas, I will learn new ideas.”

  “I will teach you. Our presence is a da
nger to your world, perhaps a danger to your most fundamental beliefs, but if the beasts are to be defeated, we need your help. I call on you to open your mind, to accept new concepts. If you do, I believe your King and his people will survive this menace. Does anything else matter?”

  Sir Galborae considered. “Nothing else matters for the moment. You must be a mighty warrior to command such armies.”

  “I do not command. I’m just a scout. But you might command such armies one day.”

  “Why do I suddenly feel like this sword is a relic?”

  “Do not feel so. Keep it and wear it proudly. But you will be given different weapons to fight the beasts. Most important, you will give guidance to my people who will fight beside your own. This is all for the sake of your people and your King. If your mind is open, it is time to end the dream.”

  “It is time to end the dream, and it is a time for warriors to save my people.”

  “Then wake up. Know that when you do you will find yourself in a strange place. I do not know your language yet, and speaking will be difficult, but I will be there to guide you. You might feel like you are still in a dream, but the dream is ended. What you are about to see is real. Give us a chance, and you will understand.”

  They stood, and the man placed his sword back in its scabbard. As they stared at each other, Terry Washburn slowly disappeared.

  * * * * *

  Washburn lifted the helmet from the man’s head and sat across the room in a chair waiting for him to awaken. No one else was in the room.

  The man stirred, then came all the way awake. He stared at the ceiling of sick bay, then looked around him in fright at all the strange machines. Everything was strange in this all-white room. His eyes settled on Washburn.

  They stared at each other, then Washburn rose and presented the man’s real sword to him. Sir Galborae rose to a sitting position, his hand going to his stomach as the pain intruded, but he pushed the pain aside. He reached out for the sword, took it, then looked around at the strange room again. His gaze rose to Washburn as he placed the sword at the foot of his bed.

  He spoke, and Washburn held out his hands in the age old gesture of helplessness. Sir Galborae’s lips thinned, then he spoke more harshly.

  Washburn shook his head, then pointed to himself. “Terry Washburn.” He pointed at the knight and said, “Sir Galborae.” He motioned the man to follow him, then stepped closer and offered his hand.

  Sir Galborae declined the offered hand and stood, then the blood left his head. Washburn reached out and steadied him until the color returned to the man’s face. He kept his arm around the knight and led him from the room into the corridor. Sir Galborae looked around in fear as Washburn led him to a nearby room. There, a meal awaited.

  They both sat in chairs beside the table. Washburn dug into his food, and Sir Galborae was not far behind, though the amount of food before him was not substantial. He finished and looked for more, but Washburn shook his head and pointed to the man’s wounds.

  Sir Galborae felt stronger the next day. Washburn held a helmet out to him, then indicated he should place it over his head. When he did, Washburn lowered the visor to restrict the man’s view and donned his own helmet. They re-met in the net. It was just the two of them. They were back in the same clearing, though it was daylight this time.

  “We can talk now,” Washburn said.

  “I like this dream better. It doesn’t hurt as much.”

  Washburn smiled. “I know. Your wounds are healing. We have a great healer here.”

  “I would thank her.”

  “In time. She will check on you regularly, and she might mother you a little, but that’s the way of healers. Welcome to our world, Sir Galborae.”

  “A strange world if ever I saw one.”

  “There is more strangeness, I promise you. Your beliefs will be sorely tested, but know that you are among friends, that we speak true, and know that our purpose includes freeing your world of the beasts.”

  “The demons.”

  “When you have seen what I have to show you, you will understand that they are not demons. Mortal men will vanquish them, and you will guide those men.”

  “Where am I?”

  “You are on a ship, a great ship. Let me show you your home as it really is.”

  George enclosed them in a small room. Walls solidified around them, then he created windows.

  Sir Galborae looked around with fear in his eyes. “This is truly a dream.”

  “It seems like one, but it is not. One of my crewmembers is creating what you see. It is only like this when you wear the helmet. Understand?”

  “No.”

  “Will you trust me? This is part of your training to defeat the beasts. We are soon going to fly like a bird, but you will not fall and you cannot be hurt by the experience . . . unless it drives you crazy.”

  Sir Galborae smiled a grim smile. “I am crazy. If this is what it takes to kill the demons, get on with it.”

  George lifted them slowly until they were just above the trees. Sir Galborae’s hands tightened on his seat and his body went rigid, but he forced himself to look out the windows.

  Washburn waited a long time, but Sir Galborae eventually got used to the sensation.

  “Amazing,” he grumbled.

  “It gets more amazing. We’re going higher, then we will visit your home.”

  George took them higher, not very high, but there was no question that they were flying like a bird as the ground receded. Then the room moved ahead and trees, lakes, and hills sped by. In no time at all, they approached a fortress. George descended and stopped before the main gates, then hovered slowly across the town.

  “It’s my town,” Sir Galborae stated in awe. “I recognize the people. Why do they not see us?”

  “We’re in a dream, remember?”

  Sir Galborae nodded. “So it is not real.”

  “Actually, this was once real. It is not real now. We’re leaving your town and going higher, much higher. It might be difficult for you, but you must understand the nature of your home before you can understand my place here. Are you ready?”

  Sir Galborae nodded grimly, his hands tight about his seat again. George was in no hurry. The room gently rose, and the town remained in view out the window. After a time, the town was just a scar on the surface, so small had it become. Roads and fields became harder and harder to make out as the room rose. Mountains, high mountains came into view, then the shore of an ocean.

  “Do you know where you are?” Washburn asked.

  “I have been to the great mountains but not beyond. I have heard of the great ocean.”

  “This is your world, Sir Galborae, but there is more to it.”

  The room moved ahead, and the great ocean came under them. Land disappeared behind them, and it seemed like an eternity before more land appeared before them. They crossed that land for a long time.

  “Does it go forever?” Sir Galborae asked in awe.

  “No, it does not, but it has no end. I will show you what I mean.”

  The room rose higher, then higher until a definite curve could be seen. It continued higher, then suddenly the true shape of the planet became known to Sir Galborae. He stared in utter amazement, but Washburn could see that he understood.

  “This is your world, my friend. We are in the sky we looked at last night, the place with all the tiny lights that we call stars.”

  Sir Galborae rose from his chair to stare down at his world, then he lifted his eyes up to look at his sun. He stared for a while, then moved to the other side of the room and looked out on the stars. He nodded his head and said, “Those are other worlds.”

  “Your world is just one among many. I come from one of those other worlds.”

  “In a great ship. You travel to all those worlds?”

  “No. There are too many, but I have been to quite a few. Is this lesson enough for one day?”

  “The demons do not wait. People are dying. Are the demons eve
rywhere on my world?”

  “They are. More will come, but together we will stop them. Tell me, how have you fought the beasts if you cannot see them?”

  “Poorly. At great cost. Our melds help.”

  “Those were the creatures we saw attacking the beast when you were injured?”

  Sir Galborae shrugged. “They cannot see the demons, but they can sense them. They guide us.”

  “How do they guide you?”

  “We know their thoughts.”

  “You read their minds?”

  “We know their thoughts. Actually, we each know the thoughts of just one. They bond to one of us when they are born, and they partner with us for as long as they live. Mine is a she-meld.”

  “You’re telling me that you know the thoughts of one particular meld?”

  “I do. Only one. Her name is Limam.”

  Washburn stood in amazement and joined Sir Galborae at the window. “Are you in touch with her right now?”

  “I am. She is wounded, but she returned to the town.”

  “She knows you’re alive?”

  “She does.”

  “Does she have hands? Can she hold a weapon?”

  “No, but she is not defenseless. She can be vicious when necessary.”

  “We’re going on a long journey. Can she be separated from you?”

  “No. She will not survive a long separation.”

  “Hmm. That presents a problem, but I would definitely like to meet her and learn more about her. I think your lesson is over for now. I must meet with my associates.”

  “Can they join us in our dream? I would like to know what is said.”

  “They could, but I don’t think you’re ready for them, my friend. Remember, we come from many different worlds, and not all members of our society look like us. We have some very strange creatures on this ship.”

  Sir Galborae took a deep breath. “If meeting them will speed this process, I will meet them.”

  “You will, but not yet. It’s too soon, and it’s not necessary yet. When you do meet them, it will be here in the dream. You will know their thoughts, so it will not be so frightening. For now, we’re going to leave the dream. We’ll be back in your room, and we can remove the helmets. I have to leave you, but I will return. It would be best if you stay in your room.”