‘Then please speak.’
Issa nodded. ‘You will no doubt have already spoken to Domenon about what I’m about to say… I ask that you let pass through your lands several friendly armies. One of Karalanths from the north and east, dwarves from the north, elves by ship from Myrn, and Atalanphians from the south. There will also be Feylint Halanoi from King Navarr, and mercenaries from Lans Himay—though these details I do not as yet know. There will be several thousand soldiers and warriors. We require them to have safe passage through your lands so that we might rendezvous at your southern ports before heading to Venosia.
‘From there we will launch a full-scale attack with the intent to recolonise our lost lands. We would be overjoyed if you joined our armies with your own Davonian soldiers.’ Issa finished, surprised at the succinctness of her words. The queen wanted frankness and that was as frank as it came.
The Queen’s face remained emotionless as Issa spoke and then she burst into deep, rich laughter that echoed around them. ‘My dear girl, if this is true, you have managed to do what no one in the world has done: organise a joint attack beyond simply the Feylint Halanoi. And how will you contain this rabble? Dwarves and Karalanths are bitter enemies, and elves despise everyone. Lans Himay is no friend of ours. A wary truce holds. How can I be sure all these armies won’t then turn on us, their host, and take what they want for themselves?’
‘I cannot offer any guarantees, my Queen. All I know is that if we do nothing, Baelthrom will soon take Frayon and all will fall.’
‘Baelthrom will win sooner, don’t you mean?’ the Queen said leaning forwards, her eyes hard.
‘If I did not have a shred of hope that we could fight this darkness, I wouldn’t be standing before you now,’ Issa said.
‘If we attack now, will we not lose something undefended? North Frayon perhaps?’ asked the Queen.
‘It is possible, my Queen,’ Issa conceded, ‘but all the time we defend we are also losing. We must attack to show our strength, harry the enemy, and invade now.’ She didn’t add that the Karalanths were determined to attack with or without the queen’s say, even if it was a suicide mission.
The Queen looked away and rested her chin on her palm. She stared into the middle distance, her cigar trailing a thin line of dense smoke above her. ‘We have not been attacked by Maphraxie ships in a year. Peace has improved trade, allowed us to fix our defences and fill our army. I would be a fool to think Davono is still standing because of our might. Davono only stands because Baelthrom has his eyes on Frayon. Everyone knows this but dare not say it. I do not want to organise war, not when my husband…War was Sott’s expertise.’
‘We are all afraid of war,’ said Issa. The queen side-glanced her, looking her up and down as Issa spoke. ‘People are more afraid of fighting for their freedom than of living in a world ruled by Baelthrom. They do not realise the Immortal Lord’s plan is to drag us into the Dark Rift—even though they see the scar in our night sky growing and coming ever closer. If that is allowed to happen, we will be food for those who live within it, our souls plunged into oblivion. Perhaps, for most, oblivion has become more desirable than the pain of fighting for what is left.’
Issa’s own words unnerved her. They were words from the heart and having spoken them, she wished she didn’t feel that they were true. Needing to end on a strong note, she said, ‘I for one would rather die on the battlefield before I’ll ever see that happen.’
‘Well said,’ the Queen nodded, a new kind of respect growing in her eyes. ‘I see now what this Raven Queen is made of. Maybe I’ll even begin to believe in her.’
Issa dared to take a single step up the dais closer to the queen. ‘Will you do it? Will you allow them passage to your south-eastern shores?’
The queen held her gaze for a long time, searching Issa for truth and the strength to pull this off.
‘You are too young to command this war,’ the Queen sighed and sunk back into her chair, worrying her sleeve with her free hand. Ash from her cigar fell unnoticed to the floor as the Queen lost herself in her thoughts. ‘You will need the very best and experienced commanders at your side.’
Issa’s heart sank, feeling that the queen would say no, halt the invasion and risk battles with Karalanths and any others determined to still attack Venosia.
‘I have a few already,’ she murmured thinking of Asaph, Marakon, Bokaard and the small but growing Knights of the Raven. ‘Won’t you agree to this, my Queen? Don’t you dare to make the first stand against the Immortal Lord?’ Issa’s voice was barely a whisper.
The Queen gave her a hard look, always measuring her up, working her out. ‘All of me wants to say no, war is just too costly and their outcomes uncertain, but always a question niggles my mind: What have we to lose? Baelthrom will not stop, so to not attack is suicide in the same manner that attacking surely is. I just wish it didn’t have to be me—to be Davono—doing the attacking. If we fail, Baelthrom’s retaliation will be swift and brutal and we will bear the brunt of it.’
‘But you will also have more than five armies converging on your lands and a number of knights and mercenaries to boot.’ Issa thought of Asaph bringing the dragons but didn’t say anything. ‘So you’ll say yes?’
The Queen pursed her lips, her brown eyes holding Issa’s for a long time. ‘Yes, but on one condition.’ Issa struggled to keep her composure as the queen continued. ‘My most trusted advisor, Domenon, will be by your side and you will hold Davono’s safety in the forefront of your mind. If you fail, all returning armies will remain on Davono’s soil to protect her from retaliation and they do not leave until the mess is sorted. Do I make myself clear?’
‘Yes, my Queen,’ said Issa, bowing her head dutifully. ‘I will die rather than fail.’
‘See to it that you don’t.’ The Queen sighed and looked out of the dark window. ‘I will prepare the Davonian army so that they will be ready to leave within the week.’
‘Thank you, my Queen.’
The Queen picked up a small bell from the table beside her and rang it. Domenon rather than the butler or guards entered the room.
‘We are finished here,’ said Thora.
Domenon bowed and beckoned to Issa. Issa bowed slightly to the queen, who stared unseeing at the glowing tip of her cigar, then followed the wizard out.
‘You look like you need a drink. I have some of the finest wine in Davono sitting in my library,’ Domenon said, folding her hand over his arm.
‘I’m rather tired,’ said Issa, though the thought of a glass of wine sounded good. ‘After that meeting, I guess I could do with relaxing.’
Meeting the Queen, or any royalty for that matter, she always found rather nerve-racking. The Queen’s manner and the nature of her request had left her rather wrought.
They took a winding, marble staircase overlaid with red carpet up to another floor and walked along a wide, wood-panelled corridor decorated with paintings of nature. Domenon paused by the door at the end, took out a key and opened it. With an indulgent smile, he spread his arm wide to let her pass through first.
‘Your library must be very special to keep it locked,’ said Issa, stepping inside.
‘Oh yes,’ said Domenon, his smile deepening. ‘No wizard leaves magical books and artefacts just lying around for the cleaners to meddle with.’
She entered a mid-sized room and stared at the filled to the brim bookcases that lined every wall and, in several rows, reached from floor to ceiling. It certainly was a packed library. A brief scan of the titles showed many to be books of magic, history or science.
‘You’ve read all of these?’ asked Issa, open-mouthed. There must be thousands of books in here. No one could read this many books and still be alive, it would take a lifetime to read them all.
‘Yes, apart from the row in the far corner beside the chaise longue. Those are the books I’m working through,’ replied the wizard as he busied himself with a decanter and glasses, placing them on the wine table.
&nbs
p; Issa looked at the red velvet chaise longue that had gold legs and was covered in soft-looking cushions. She sank onto it gratefully. Domenon smiled as he passed her a crystal glass full of claret and took the deep chair opposite. He sipped his wine and set it on the small table beside him.
‘I suppose you want me to tell you what I talked about with the Queen,’ Issa said sipping her wine. It was deliciously smooth and she felt herself instantly relaxing, despite being in Domenon’s presence.
‘No. Queen Thora will tell me later if she wishes. And she usually does,’ he replied.
‘Well, she agreed to allow the armies through her lands and add to it with her own soldiers. Tomorrow I will scry for Freydel and all wizards and seers—’ Issa paused as Domenon cut her off.
‘You will not be able to scry for anyone whilst within Castle Rebben. Only I am able to reach beyond the protective wards placed here by myself and only from within this room. It is for the protection of the Queen and the whole of Davono. After what happened to you in Teramides, I’m sure you can understand.’
Issa’s initial scowl softened and she nodded slowly. She took several sips of her wine thinking on that. She’d wondered why she couldn’t scry earlier nor even project her thoughts to Asaph to feel for where he was. Of course, protecting the queen and thus the kingdom was a priority for her key advisor and protector. Issa was foolish to think otherwise.
‘I see that Queen Thora is very thorough, which can only be a good thing,’ she said.
‘Very thorough,’ agreed Domenon. ‘If you so much as touch the Flow, I will feel it.’ There was a glitter in his eyes that wasn’t menacing but proved that he meant what he said.
‘I only use magic to do good,’ she said, jutting her chin and meaning it as a challenge.
‘Then that is all right,’ Domenon smiled, not rising to it.
He reached for the wine bottle and topped up first her glass, then his. Setting the bottle down, he pulled out of his pocket a small black rock that shimmered with gold and silver specks. She breathed in. It was just like her raven talisman, the trilithon in the desert and some of the standing stones around the star portal. One side was smooth and polished but the rest was rough and jagged.
‘Where did you get that?’ she asked, wide-eyed.
‘I see you recognise it,’ he said and smiled, turning the rock over in his hand.
‘You broke it off the sacred mound?’ The thought was sacrilege.
‘Not exactly. You think so little of me,’ Domenon sighed. ‘There was a storm several years ago. It was really quite epic and lightening even flared erratically against Myrn’s protective shield. We can’t be sure but we think it was Baelthrom’s doing. The ground shook too, and one of the stones surrounding the sacred mound suffered when a tree fell on it. A piece was shorn off. This piece.’ He tossed it to her and she struggled to catch it without spilling her wine.
She held it in her hand. It was the same stone as her talisman, its depths filled with beautiful stars.
‘Farla in ah iot issalena,’ Domenon spoke in a flowing foreign language.
She blinked and looked up at him. There was an enigmatic smile on his face.
‘What did you say?’ She frowned, there was something about those words she should know.
‘Farla in ah iot issalena. Yissen en ah Sharafeya,’ Domenon said easily, clearly understanding the strange language he spoke.
The words moved Issa and she stared at the wizard spellbound. The language was flowing and smooth, almost Elven in its sound but with less melody.
‘I said,’ Domenon leant forwards, his eyes sparkling. ‘… “Lady of the blue moonlight. Blessed by the Goddess.”. It is Tusarzan. A beautiful language that is sadly lost like many others.
‘You speak Tusarzan?’ Issa asked.
‘I speak most languages, even dead ones,’ said Domenon.
‘But it’s ancient,’ said Issa, wondering again how old Domenon was.
‘Indeed. I am a voracious reader and an adept and fast learner,’ said the wizard.
Issa felt uneducated and ignorant. The man knew more about her ancestral home than she did.
‘I have books on it if you would like to read them and learn a little of your ancient language,’ he said.
‘What’s the point in learning a dead language?’
Domenon laughed. ‘Ah, the impatience of humans. Life is just too short for them.’
‘You’re human too, remember,’ she scowled. ‘There isn’t any point lounging around learning dead languages when the planet is about to be destroyed, now is there?’
Domenon looked away and took a sip of his wine.
‘There is power in words, and in every language,’ he finally said, looking at her and folding a hand over his knee. ‘You might find greater meaning to things when expressed in another language. Words are power. Words control the Flow. Many of the spells wizards use are from dead languages, but the power remains.’
Issa felt even more ignorant as the wizard spoke.
‘If you became my pupil, I could teach you many of these things,’ said Domenon.
‘You would teach me?’ The thought excited her but then she realised Freydel wouldn’t like it. Was that why Domenon was offering?
‘Of course I would,’ said the wizard. ‘I will teach any with the ability and desire to learn.’
Issa stared down at the rock in her hand, working through her feelings. ‘There isn’t enough time. And besides, I don’t think my calling is a wizard’s calling.’
‘Ah sena vey iot ena ah un drens phelan,’ said Domenon.
Issa felt magic move and looked up at the wizard quizzically.
‘...“The stone glows blue for the one who’s true,”’ said Domenon. ‘Look.’ He gestured to the stone in her hands with a grin.
Issa gasped. The stone was glowing blue; a beautiful, soft indigo aura sparkling with life.
‘The stone is from Aralansia,’ she breathed, tears filling her eyes.
The indigo colour suddenly spread over her arms like cool silk sliding over her skin. ‘What is happening?’ she gasped.
There was surprise on Domenon’s face, and he perched himself on the edge of his seat. She sensed he was in the Flow.
Over her shoulders and face the blue spread, soothing and pure, calming the overwhelming emotions she suddenly felt. The blue cooled her cheeks that the wine had made red and she blinked back the tears for the destroyed planet and its people.
‘This is most interesting,’ whispered Domenon. ‘Ancient seer scripture recorded an inscription on an even more ancient temple in Tusarza where a sparkling stone was kept. Both stone and temple were long ago destroyed. “Ah sena vey iot ena ah un drens phelan,” is what it read. I have thought about it often. When I saw you with the raven talisman, I knew it was made of the same stone. I do not know what it means, but I know that your name means “moonlight,” and I had a thought to try it. So tell me then, Moonlight, all about this Aralansia you seem to know about.’
Issa swallowed, realising she had put her foot in it. She set the stone on the table and watched as the blue faded away. Taking a sip of wine, she quickly set her glass down, suddenly realising she had almost drunk a second glass and it was going straight to her head.
‘We can take time,’ Domenon smiled. ‘The night is early still.’
He seemed a little blurry in her vision but still handsome with his black hair and strong, chiselled features. Issa felt embarrassed for noticing these things. I’m just tipsy, that is all.
‘It was just a place I saw in a vision once,’ she tried to dismiss it.
‘It sounds more than that,’ Domenon said. ‘Has anyone else seen this place?’
‘Well, yes. Freydel,’ she said, then cursed herself for blurting it out. Freydel had told her not to talk about this until he had spoken to the Wizards’ Circle about his inter-dimensional time travelling. But why hasn’t he talked to the wizards about Ayeth and Baelthrom yet? It is of utmost importance. He probably wasn�
��t ever going to, Issa thought suspiciously. Perhaps Domenon should know, but then again his story isn’t mine to tell and Domenon is not a good or safe person to confide in.
‘Oh really?’ the wizard said conversationally. ‘So how did you both see this place if it was just a vision for you?’
‘Well, he used his orb.’ Issa tried to stop herself from speaking but it came out anyway. ‘Hmm, I think I’m overtired and should go to bed. My tongue sometimes gets the better of me and I can talk nonsense after a wine.’ Her voice was slightly slurred too. She began to worry.
Maybe Domenon spotted this too for he said, ‘Well there’s nothing to be concerned about here, in Queen Thora’s castle. We’re very safe and just chatting. But on the contrary, I think you need to relax a bit more,’ said the wizard. He filled his glass then stood to reach hers.
‘No—’ she tried to protest but he insisted.
‘Nonsense. You are a guest in my house and I promised myself to lavish you with the finest wine Davono can offer. You’ll not find this quality anywhere else. You cannot turn down the best host in the land.’
He smiled and sat down next to her on the chaise longue. Perhaps this was his way of apologising for his roughness over Orphinius. He held his glass up and, with a defeated sigh, she picked hers up and they chinked glasses. It certainly was the most delicious wine she had ever tasted, if a little strong, and it would be rude to turn down her host. His eyes never left hers as she sipped.
He set his glass down. ‘Now then, tell me some more. Maybe these stones all come from this place called Aralansia. Like the lettering marking the top of this sacred mound?’
‘Yes,’ said Issa, surprised. ‘You’ve been to the sacred mound, or star portal as some call it?’
‘I found it once a long time ago but I could not enter,’ said Domenon, further shocking Issa. She thought only witches and seers ever found the star portal, and only women at that. But then again the portal was there for anyone able to find it.
‘Did Freydel manage to enter?’ Domenon repeated the question.
Dragons of the Dawn Bringer: The Goddess Prophecies Fantasy Series Book 5 Page 29