“Oh yes. The girls. Do you remember the old stories?” She asked in reply. “Those tales told around fires at eventide. They speak of the guardians of the King. Warriors so brave and fearless that they will take a spear to protect the head of the ruling house. Or any member of it. So compassionate that they abandon battle to flee into the wastes with only the children, should they see a King fall and the House lost. The children are saved at huge cost to those fighting the rear guard. Few survived. Many lost. Many warriors. Many children. Whole Houses wiped out. The Tharsians know no mercy, and at that time, still fought for the Dark Lord. So did the Morgoth. It was only when the combined strength of the Wind Readers was channelled into the Seal of the Creator that the Dark Lord was surprised and overcome. With him subdued the Tharsians broke away followed by the Morgoth. The battle lines were broken. The Tharsians scattered into their forests, and the Morgoth simply – vanished. Slowly the warriors of the Mare Altan and Asha Altan came to settle on the Star Field Plain. Those the warriors yet guarded were plain people who had fled with them. Children of the older families. Only one group from the major houses survived. The children of that group were the survivors of the King, and the houses of the Malachites.”
Mei’An paused. The serving girls had entered quietly meantime, and now stood with mouths agape. They were hearing a tale straight out of the prophesies and they knew it to be the truth for a Wind Reader was telling it. Mei’An continued. “That group settled by a river and built a stone fortress. That fortress was built atop the Great Seal. Only by taking the fortress could any attacker hope to retrieve the seal. Even then they would have to remove the fortress stone by stone. The Great Seal was never seen again. The fortress was never taken. In time, people forgot. Facts became legends, legends became stories. The stories became children’s fables. Eventually the stones of the castle fortress were removed to build farm houses. To build inns. To build sept houses. Eventually, after an age of ages, all trace of the fortress was gone. The Seal of the Creator long forgotten. The purpose of the warriors long blurred into new duties. The Great Seal is there still, guarded by two who have been given eternal life to guard it. Such is their duty that they live as long as the Seal is at risk. You know the village. You know the people. Riadia and Jardine. The village is Xu Gui. The guards are still the Mare Altan and the Asha Altan. The only others who remember, are the Traders and the Wind Readers.” Mei’An paused to sip a glass of water. “Long has been our quest. The Traders were those who drove the wagons carrying supplies into the wasteland. It was they who kept the villages supplied as time rolled on. They came out of distant lands, and through high mountain passes. They were always alone, and as they posed no threat, they were rarely troubled. The Wind Readers began the search for the village of the Kings just as the Traders began the search for the Great Seal.”
Mei’An drew her breath and sipped her water. No one in the room moved. Hardly daring to breathe.
“Only recently could we, the Wind Readers, detect a glow permeating our plane. This was known to us, as the stories spoke of such a feeling, a glow as it were, being present when the Great Seal, and Malachite Kings were together in the same room. The Inn of Daga Domain. He found the Seal, and brought it into the presence of the village where all the descendants gather on festival days. It was thus that I alone took the Great North Road in search of the place where the resonance of the Seal was strongest. It was, it seemed to be, the fulfilling of part of the prophesies. It was then that Dagar Domain handed the Seal of the Creator to The Trader. They were its original guardians. They were bound to it all those ages ago. I know this. It happened after we left the village. The Last battle is coming. The Morgoth now know it. You.,” Mei’An pointed to Antonin. “Were seen and recognised. Once again the Mare Altan must take up their place guarding the King. The new King. Their honour and his depend on it. His life, the life of everyone in the world.”
Mei’An seemed to grow in size. Her power filled the room. Her voice came like a wind before a storm.
“If the Mare Altan fail in their duty, then all is lost. You will guard the King – only he knows how to place the key, and fuse it with the Great Seal. Be prepared at any moment.”
Her voice echoed around the room like sound in a vast cavern. One of the serving girls feinted. Another was on her knees in fear, a jug of ale pouring onto the floor unnoticed. Two stood clasping each other, eyes wide in terror, their trays of food forgotten on the sideboard.
Mei’An sat. Hands clasped together on the table in front of her. She was satisfied that she had impressed the gravity of the situation upon all present.
“… and now, unseen in the prophesies. The Tharsians have taken the Key. Not the Morgoth as was foretold.”
There was utter silence. Mei’An said quietly.
“So you see Antonin, truly you are the only descendant. Your father is past doing battle and he knows it. So do you. I believe you feel it yourself. Why else would a farmer be as skilled as you are in the arts of sword and staff? You Catharina, are his friend. You are also much more.”
Mei’An’s arched eyebrow brought a flush to her cheeks again, but Mei’An continued. “You are the guardian of his life and your honour is staked on it. It has always been so. Elsa also, a guardian of the lesser houses. To you both now will rally the other Mare Altan. Riadia and Jardine do not come with them over the Dragon Spine. The Asher Altan come to take up station under Rees. The Guardians will return the Key, the honour guards will return the King.” She hesitated. “It is foretold. Let the Light guide our steps.”
Rees sat looking from one to the other, hands flat on the table with his jaw clenched. His lips drawn into a thin line, his eyes narrow slits. He tried to take in all that he had heard. A village boy. A blacksmiths son. Descended from a noble house. To lead men into battle. A battle he still thought of as an old bed time story, if he hadn’t seen recent events with his own eyes.
Elsa and Catharina exchange proud smiles. This is what they had trained for. This was adventure beyond their wildest dreams. Their names would be immortal. Riadia and Jardine were immortals, tied to the Great Seal forever it seemed. What honour to be a part of their house. Catharina almost danced on the spot with joy. Elsa, in between glancing around looking for signs of trouble, grasped her friend by the forearm and gently shook her friend.
“Catharina, what a task.” Suddenly she whirled to face the spot where she had just been standing. “Danger!” She yelled. She had seen something reflected in the eyes of her friend.
In a space shorter than a heart beat Luan had his sword out. Elsa and Catharina both poised with short killing spears. Rees and Antonin on their feet wildly looking about.
Tallbar tried to struggle to his feet out of his chair. The serving girls screamed and fled. It was too much.
The air in the corner of the room was glittering like the night air on a misty mid-winters night. Ice crystals floated like motes in the air. Everyone stood poised. What was it? The faint outline of a door began to take shape in the glittering haze. It slowly resolved into an archway. The view through this archway began to clear and take form. Low hills, a road winding away into the distance. Strange multi tiered buildings stood on some of the hill tops.
“Those are the temples of Hua Guo.” Whispered Mei’An, The whole thing blinked out like a candle flame being snuffed. Gone in an instant.
“Antonin,” said Mei’An. “I fear that you are the one who summoned that doorway. I spoke once of a power that the ancients had. The power to travel through portals summoned at will. It was the power only of the Kings. These are the travelling portals that we have spoken of. Not the strange machines that lay buried beneath our feet. What were you thinking of that brought this portal into being?”
“I was wishing with all my heart that I was somewhere far away.” Replied Antonin with downcast eyes.
“Well, I wish you would warn us next time, you woolly headed sheep herder!” Yelled Catharina, whacking Antonin across the shoulders with the haft o
f her spear. Elsa relaxed and laughed aloud at her own discomfort.
Tallbar the innkeeper cleared his throat. He felt very much out of place. He had come to tell the group some news he thought they should know, and ended up hearing things he thought he would rather not know.
“Should we not take morning meal?” He asked quietly, looking around. He took a small bell from his pocket and shook it. The tinkling brought the serving girls hurrying back in to clean up and bring fresh ale and tea. The innkeeper drew out his pipe and with a lot of sucking and puffing began to emit huge clouds of smoke.
Luan didn’t seem to relax a single muscle. He stood to one side, sword drawn, eyes flittering around the room taking everything in. Cinnabar would not escape a second time. Gradually Luan relaxed and sheathed his sword. The clouds of smoke being generated by the innkeeper would surely blanket the room before too long.
Rees set all in motion by helping himself to a large portion of the breads and cheeses now on the table. His huge mug of ale brimmed over and he set to eating with enthusiasm. It was he who remembered the innkeeper had a tale to tell.
“Master Tallbar,” he said between sips of ale. “You had something to tell us?”
“Well, yes,” replied the innkeeper. “But nothing so important I fear as what I have just heard.” He paused. “I would first ask the Wind Reader a question?” He looked at Mei’An with a questioning glance. She nodded slightly.
“These youth be the ones to save the Seal?” He paused. Mei’An nodded again. He continued. "To save the world by leading the forces of the Light against Lightsbane himself?” Again Mei’An nodded assent. “And this is truly the Malachite King come again?” The innkeeper indicate Antonin.
Antonin’s eyes were wide. He was on his feet. “No. I am not this king you speak of. I have no powers. I am a simple farmer from a small village. I will not be dragged into this mess. You speak of ages long past. You speak calmly of fables and stories and of ages long past that we have all heard of since the cradle, as though they were truth. Had I these strange powers to travel through portals that you speak of, why only now can I supposedly do this thing? I will help if needed, but I am not this king you speak of, returned from a grave surely sealed a thousand years ago.” Antonin paused, breathing deeply. He looked at Catharina with pleading in his eyes. “Catharina, I am not this king. Tell them you know me.”
Catharina could say nothing, but the look of compassion in her face told of her pain for her friend. She could not doubt the word of a Wind Reader. With downcast eyes for a second, she spread her hands by her side. What could she say?
“You are drawn into the web that controls all things Antonin,” said Mei’An. “The threads tighten around you and all things gravitate to you like a weight placed in the centre of a stretched sheet. To fight against this now is to give more time to the Dark Lord.”
Antonin stared at Mei’An, his mouth working as he tried to find words. “If I am truly the King of the Malachites now and have such powers, why can I not use it to create a portal now?” He was growing increasingly angry. His whole world was being changed and he felt he was losing control. As he shouted the words he flung out his arm, pointing to the corner where the shimmering portal had previously appeared. With the hiss of steam escaping from a kettle, a glittering arch winked into place in the room corner. It appeared as solid as a rock this time, yet where it would touch the existing walls and floor, seemed to go right through them. Antonin’s jaw hung open. A tiny squeak escaped him. His finger still pointed at the apparition. No one moved. Also clearly visible, and looking directly at the gathered people in the room was a man leading a horse along a dusty road that seemed to lead directly into the portal. He stared in surprise for a moment then turned and fled back along the road as fast as he could run. He left the horse standing, and it started to graze on the grassy verge. The man could still be seen getting smaller as he fled along the road into the distance.
The same icy motes twinkled in the air around the portal. Antonin lowered his arm. The portal stayed. The candles in the room flickered as a breeze stirred through the portal. The horse could be heard chewing the grass. Bees could be heard in the roadside flowers.
“Mei’An,” whispered Elsa. “Where is this place?”
“Ask Antonin.” She replied firmly.
“I.. I don’t know. I only thought to point to the portal leading to a palace. If indeed I was the Malachite King, then I would know how to reach my own palace. That’s what I thought.”
“You only lack control of this skill Antonin. Nothing more.”
Mei’An was surprised at the power that Antonin had used. She had felt it flow from him. The archway he had created was still visible and appeared to be as solid as stone. Which it seemed to be made of. The others in the room were relaxing now, looking through the archway to see what this other strange land might hold. The serving girls were giving it a wide berth as they brought the meals in. They knew better than to say anything. This inn was the seat of many strange events, and the girls knew their place, even though surprises were tinged with fear.
“Perhaps,” said Luan. “You had best remove this portal. There is no point in frightening more of the peasants out of their wits.”
Antonin looked at the portal, and back at Luan. “I have no idea how I put it there. Even less idea of how to remove it!” He cried. The portal stood firm, glittering in the corner of the room.
Antonin waved his arms at it. “Go!” He shouted. It stayed.
Elsa walked over to the portal entrance, standing just at its edge where it crossed the floor. She reached out with a spear and waved it about through the gateway. Nothing stirred but the icy motes in the air. She whistled to attract the horse. It looked up for a moment then went back to eating the grass. It seemed to be content to wait for its master who had long since disappeared over the rolling hills in the distance.
“Antonin, do not try to close this gateway just yet.” She said over her shoulder. Without waiting she stepped through. The motes swirled around her and she could feel her skin prickle as she stepped across the threshold. She stood on the dusty road. The air was warm, the sun high overhead. It appeared to be spring time where ever it was that she stood. She whirled about. Only now thinking to make sure the portal was equally visible on her side. She let out a sigh when she saw it was. It seemed to sit squarely on the road. As if it had been built there by hand. Except that instead of the road continuing through it, she could clearly see the others gathered in the room of the inn. It all seemed very strange. Elsa giggled at the thought of what must have gone through the mind of the man who had fled over the hills, leaving a fine horse untended. She looked about. They were alone. Her and the horse. There were no trees that she could see, and the road continued it path on the other side of where the portal stood. She could make out a cross roads in the distance.
“I shall return in a moment.” Elsa said to those in the inn. She stuck an arrow in the ground where she stood, then set out at a trot toward the cross road. Those in the inn lost sight of her as she passed around the portal.
In her experience all such crossroads were marked with sign posts. Perhaps this one was also. It might indicate where she was. It took only a few minutes to reach the cross roads. Sure enough, there were markers on each road. The symbols were unknown to Elsa, but drawing a charcoal stick from her belt pouch she copied the symbols onto her arm. Perhaps Mei’An would know. She dashed back toward the portal. From this other side, it was only a hazy shimmer across the road. Circling around it where the arrow was stuck in the ground brought the others in the inn back into view. Pulling up her arrow she stepped back into the room. As her feet touched the floor proper, the portal winked out. “Ahh!” Yelled Elsa. It felt like the portal had almost closed with her still in it. “Careful my Lord.” She quipped as she quickly stepped forward, her hands going involuntarily toward her bottom.
“But… I did nothing.” Said Antonin with a worried look on his face.
Master Ta
llbar the innkeeper cleared his throat again and puffed mightily at his pipe. Clouds of smoke billowed around him.
“It do be time I told you of what I know of these things. I have kept this thing that was traded to me many years ago. It do be the crown of the King of the Malachites.” He rummaged in the huge pocket of his apron and drew out a fine gold headband. No thicker than a child’s finger, it was of the finest workmanship. A fine script flowed around its circumference, like fine lace.
There were many drawings and painting of the ancient heroes of legend, and all those of the Malachite King showed him wearing just such a golden band on his head, sitting smoothly on his forehead as though moulded.
Antonin looked at the golden band. He could feel a tingling sensation that seemed to penetrate his very bones. Without thinking – he reached his fingers out and took the golden circlet. It fit perfectly to his head as though it had been there forever. The room began to fill with a bright light that seemed to be formed of a golden haze. It flashed into momentary brilliance then was gone. Antonin was clutching the fireplace trying to keep his feet. The band pulsed through his system like a living thing. He could feel the knowledge of the ages coursing into his memory. Just as he thought he could take no more, it stopped.
Mei’An had her fingers on his temples, and was making a low crooning sound.
“Slowly my king,” she whispered. “You must go slowly.”
Antonin rested his head on the fireplace arch, getting his breath back. Mei’An stepped back away from him and faced the others.
“The Malachite King has returned.” Was all she said. She looked at each person in the room in turn. The two girls, Catharina and Elsa were the first to move. They knelt before Antonin, right knee bent, left hand with knuckles on the floor.
“Our honour is to serve our king.” They spoke together. “The king of light, leader against the marshalled hosts of the Evil One.”
Antonin whirled around, pain in his eyes.
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