by Lawrence, J.
Thaniel had been a slave for seven years and yet even as one of the hold’s messengers had still maintained a relatively low profile, especially not attracting the attention of any of the nobles who ran the hold. Slaves that garnered the attention of such folk tended to get beat. Or dead. Now in one morning he had managed to gain one of the First as an enemy, and if that weren’t enough, Lisella Ontar herself now stood staring at him not ten feet away and memorizing his name. Great.
“Look at me boy.” She instructed. “Do you know what this means?” She gestured at the open door and into the chamber beyond.
Nobles… She didn’t use his name after all. Now how was he supposed to answer a question like that? He had no idea what he had done to the dra carving to make it do what it did.
“I didn’t mean to Mistress, I swear.” He stammered, shaking his head vigorously.
“You really have no idea what you are.” She reached a hand up to his cheek and smiled. If he didn’t know better he’d swear she felt sorry for him.
Lisella Ontar turned toward the open chamber and walked inside, her crimson robes flowing like blood in the ice cold breeze. The woman covered her face in her hands, looking a whole lot like she was wiping tears. She took a deep breath. Her head tilted up, the picture of nobility and grace. When her hands returned to her sides, they were clenched in fists.
She spun back around with a smile full of white teeth. If she had been crying there wasn’t any trace of that woman left.
“My people.” Her voice was filled with command. This was the Lisella Ontar he knew. “Today is a special day.” She looked right at him, eyes as cold as the night. “There will be no more processional. The Dra has spoken. It has named Thaniel, the Caller of the Dra.”
The crowd shrunk back in a surge.
Lisella Ontar strode forward and lifted him off the stone. She grasped one of his hands and thrust it onto the air like he’d won a prize.
“Tonight, because of Thaniel, you celebrate the Festival of the Caller, for real.”
Nobody moved.
“Every man, woman, and child eats and drinks their fill.”
No effect.
“One slave in ten will be set free.”
Heads swiveled and locked into place, eyes wide.
“Soldiers and servants will receive double pay this month.”
After a moment of silent shock the hall behind him erupted into shouts and applause.
Were they all insane? He couldn’t be the Caller! The Caller of the Dra was a myth. Nothing more than a reason to celebrate a festival. Everyone knew that dras weren’t real. And even if they were, who in their right mind would call one? Thaniel craned his neck trying to search her eyes for the madness that surely must be there, finding nothing.
With that settled Lisella Ontar turned and faced Thaniel fully as she purposefully traced two fingers along the thin white lines tattooed just over her eyebrows.
Irkhir did the same.
Thaniel stared at them as, with one voice, they, along with the entire First, recited the same phrase. “The code sings.”
It hadn’t stopped echoing down the hall before Lisella Ontar’s eyes darted around, looking as if she was missing something important.
“Irkhir, where is the girl?” The question silenced the hall that had already started stirring with activity. “We can’t have a Caller without a kiss.”
Somehow Elycia had managed to slip away when no one was looking.
“I definitely don’t have one of those, not now.” Thaniel could hardly believe he spoke out loud, but he didn’t have any doubt of the truth of it. Thanks to that glowing carving, Elycia didn’t want anything to do with him. He couldn’t blame her. Everyone that was smiling now about the prospect of a full belly, freedom, or more coin, had only moments before regarded him as a monster.
Lisella Ontar stepped closer to him, lifting his chin with a finger. Her gaze swept across his features, taking in every detail before she used a thumb to wipe away one of his tears. She pursed her lips thoughtfully and then a small smile curved up the corners of her mouth. Slowly her eyes dropped down to the floor.
“Oh, I think you’re wrong about that.” She said as she held up the crushed blossom between her thumb and forefinger.
Chapter 10
Blue Fresco
“Get on with it.” A soldier shoved Thaniel from behind.
Torches blazed in mounted sconces on every wall, illuminating a vast domed chamber that majestically vaulted easily a hundred feet overhead. Steep walls gradually sloped inward until they met at an ornate circle in the center. On the circle was a faded yet still dazzling fresco of a bluish dra in mid flight. From the exact center of the dome rose a vertical column at least twenty paces wide. It topped out right under the center of the ceiling, directly under the dra.
A winding path, cut in a pattern that reminded Thaniel of scales, started at the entrance and led a sinuous course towards the base of the tower. An ornate archway waited at the base of a stair that was chiseled right out of the sides of the tower. Thaniel leaned his head back to see the stairs wind around and around the tower. More of the strange arches were set intermittently up the stairs.
You might be able to skip the first one on your way up, but unless you wanted to hang off the sheer sides of the tower to do it, there was no avoiding the rest.
Thaniel craned his neck all around, at first mesmerized by the chamber as he moved forward. He tried to stare at any one spot and found it hard to do. Other than the scale patterned path he was walking on, every surface in the entire stone chamber was carved with a flowing pattern that felt like the wind itself, if wind could be seen with the naked eye that is.
With every movement he made, the room seemed to spin, like he had been swallowed alive by a creature of living wind. Thaniel forced himself to look down at the scaled walkway beneath his feet. He was grateful he wasn’t the only person who seemed taken aback. Even some of the hardened soldiers stepped a little lighter in the place.
Thaniel stopped suddenly before two sets of armored boots, happy for the opportunity to stop moving. Hot bile churned in his stomach, already threatening to erupt from just the few steps it took to make it to the base of the tower. He relished a deep slow breath.
Silence stretched.
Irkhir, standing only a few paces in front of the wall of crimson muscle he had stopped at, was staring at something over Thaniel’s head. Behind him, was Keriim.
“Where’s Elycia?” The moment Thaniel saw Keriim, the words shot out of his mouth.
The man didn’t answer. He just stood there caressing the blade of his axe with one of his thumbs. If he had the ability, Thaniel was sure the man’s glare would have burned a hole in his forehead.
Irkhir regarded Thaniel with calculating eyes. Then, he twisted. His thickly muscled neck flexed tight as he looked back over his plate mail at Keriim. The brute’s senses were uncanny. He must have felt Irkhir’s scrutiny coming because by the time he’d turned his head, Keriim had assumed the same posture as the rest of the men. He made sure Irkhir saw his eyes leave the top of the arch to regard him, as if he weren’t just an instant before that glaring at Thaniel with murderous intent. The leader of the First studied the man like a cat studies an injured bird.
“Don’t worry Caller.” Irkhir answered as if Thaniel had been speaking to him all along. “They’re bringing your girl. You’ll get your kiss before you…” His words trailed away as if the wind stole them before they left his lips.
Leather armor creaked as the men closest to him tensed. Murmurs of alarm rippled through the First. Everywhere Thaniel looked soldier’s bulging eyes were locked onto something somewhere over his head.
“By the Creator’s eyes.” One of them swore.
“We’re in it now.” Said another.
“We are dead men.”
“Shut up.” Irkhir snapped, one of his axes flying into his hand. “I will kill the first man who deserts the First.”
What were they
looking at?
Thaniel grimaced as a horrible feeling overtook the rising bile in the pit of his stomach. Slowly, he raised his head up, letting his eyes track to where everyone but Keriim was looking.
They had stopped him right under the first arch. It was so wide that, with his eyes on the floor, he hadn’t noticed either of its two bases. Thaniel wanted to be sick. Covered with the same gut wrenching pattern as the rest of the place, it vaulted twice as high as he was tall. The living pattern made it seem like the arch twisted violently as it shot out of the floor on his right, racing over his head, before it bored back down into the stone on his left. As disorienting as it was, it wasn’t really any different than the rest of the place. The entire chamber, except for the scaled path he was standing on, made him want to vomit.
He felt the blood drain from his face as he noticed what they were all really looking at. It was soft at first, just a faint accent, as if someone had highlighted its fantastic details in blue chalk. But as he watched the sickening pattern, the azure intensified, making it seem like the arch was coming to life.
Thaniel thought he might die when that dra head lit up right in front of his face. But there was something about this arch that seared his soul. It resonated down inside him, like it was part of him. A deep internal thrumming that made him feel… connected to it on some level he didn’t know existed.
In his peripheral vision, Thaniel took in Irkhir’s head shaking back and forth unbelievingly.
“Take him to the top.” His voice grated like steel being sharpened on a stone.
He was barely even aware of the men that carried him, the back of his boots thudding against the stone steps as they dragged him up the tower. They moved fast, every step a resilient march forward to the inevitable. They didn’t stop below any more aches. Not even when each of them burst into in momentary cerulean light. Thaniel wondered if the soldiers noticed the arches were getting brighter the higher they went. He could tell, even with his eyes closed.
At the top of the tower workers had just finished hanging panels of heavy chain mail from thumb thick iron loops off some sort of iron contraption. The intricate cage butted right up to the heavy stone ceiling ring that encircled the blue dra fresco. Men hastily gathered up their tools and spare iron links, all the while casting nervous glances at the picture of the dra overhead.
Behind the walls of chain, a group of five big men, led by Hobb, the master blacksmith, jerked on the interwoven panels, heaving with all of their collective might. One by one they tested each of them until finally, at his grudging nod of approval, he dismissed them all. The big men wriggled out of a small flap in the chain that formed the only way in or out, and didn’t waste any time making their way off the top of the tower. One of them literally ran down the path. Hobb muttered a curse when he heard the crash of someone dropping a few tools below.
Thaniel’s eyes followed the scaled path. It led through the two small flaps and spiraled right into the exact center of the top of the tower. There inside the walls of chain and directly under the fantastically painted blue fresco, sat a large white dais.
Irkhir started explaining what was expected of him when the time came. All Thaniel essentially had to do was go up on the dais and kneel or something. Then, supposedly the dra would come.
Thaniel looked up at the blue fresco. No matter where he stood the dra in the painting looked like it was staring hungrily at him.
Chapter 11
Dais
Finally, Lisella Ontar reached the top and strolled into view, resplendent in flowing crimson, a red jewel dangling in the middle of her forehead like a bright red sparkling warf’s egg. Her hair was pulled back into one tight bejeweled braid. Her face devoid of any emotion at all, she regarded Thaniel with a slight nod. Then, with a regal flourish, she turned and peered down over the edge of the tower on all sides.
The entire chamber was filled with crimson clad soldiers. At the base of the tower men stood shoulder to shoulder. Even the spiraling path was filled right to the top, where men of the First stood waiting.
She raised her hands.
“I am Lisella Ontar, the Bloodborn ruler of Ontar Hold.”
In response, the chamber reverberated with the thumping of axe and spear handles on stone.
“Today we are all equals, equals in that destiny has chosen us all to stand here today as the Caller’s witnesses.” More thumping.
“The dawn of the glory of Ontar will be a night remembered,” she paused to look around again, “for a thousand generations.”
The stone beneath his feet actually vibrated with the hammering of thousands of battle axe handles and short spears.
She waited, head high, until the applause subsided before she continued. Lisella Ontar pulled a necklace over her head. A bejeweled key, as big as her hand, swung back and forth in her grasp. She bent over and shoved it into a hole Thaniel hadn’t noticed before that moment.
Hobb, the master blacksmith, cringed when she had to use two hands to twist it. The man didn’t breathe until a metallic clang sounded throughout the chamber. Bits of ice shook off the tower and great domed ceiling, making it seem like even the great chamber offered its blessing on the momentous occasion. As every eye watched, the center of the ceiling where the blue dra fresco stared down at him, separated into ten equal parts and slid back into hidden recesses.
“Who here will be worthy of the blood of Ontar?” She screamed it over and over as the receding panels revealed a starlit night sky. She ran around the top of the tower, looking every bit the leader of a bunch of axe wielding warriors.
Her soldier’s response was deafening. A battle cry raged from every man in the chamber. It sounded like one of the nine hells had disgorged its contents into the room.
Lisella Ontar spun and signaled to Irkhir with a nod.
Two soldiers immediately wriggled through openings in the walls of chain. One held a long pole in place for the other to climb up on. Armor and all, the nimble man was up the pole and through the hole in the ceiling in a flash. He poked his head back over the edge and waved a looking glass from the opening.
“Last chance for your kiss, Caller.” Irkhir bellowed over the deafening roar of the men. He bent over and said something in Elycia’s ear before he shoved her towards him.
Thaniel caught her before she stumbled to the hard stone. His eyes immediately slid away as she nearly flinched when he touched her, as if she preferred to fall to the floor instead of endure his grasp.
Thaniel glared at Irkhir and gently let go of her arm, motioning for her to go back.
“I have to do this.” Elycia squeaked. Her eyes flitted back to a smiling Keriim before she looked him in the eyes.
“What are you doing? No.” He heard himself say.
“Yes, I do.” She said as she turned and grabbed him by the shoulders, forcing him to face her. She was trembling, heart hammering, and nearly ghostly white. Yet, still she leaned into him. When she closed her eyes a single tear ran down her cheek.
Thaniel stared at her. She was, even like this, beautiful. Lifted by the icy wind as it raced across the window to the heavens, a strand of her hair brushed his cheek. The long blonde curls seemed to capture every bit of the starlight that streamed down from the circular opening overhead.
He had thought of little more than this moment, this kiss, for about the last six months. It had kept him awake more nights than he could count.
She was so close that the warmth of her face seemed to wash over him, cleansing the taint that he knew must stain his soul for even thinking of kissing her like this, when instead of her wanting to, she had to.
Thaniel tried to shrug off her grip. Her eyes popped open in alarm, and relief.
“Not like this.” He whispered. “Never like this.”
“Irkhir told me that if you don’t kiss me, he will give me to him. Please.” There wasn’t any need to tell him who him was.
His heart felt like it would rip out of his chest on the spot. But what choice d
id he have? He didn’t doubt they would follow through with their threat. He couldn’t let them give her to Keriim. Thaniel glared at Irkhir, Lisella Ontar, and finally at the smiling Keriim. He hated them all. He hated them for taking her from him. This kiss would be their first, and last. After this there would be nothing he could do to win her back.
Thaniel swallowed, not able to hold back his own tears as he closed his eyes and leaned in. When her lips touched his Thaniel wanted to scream. Scream because, in spite of everything her soft touch sent a shiver of energy radiating from his lips out to every inch of his body. Scream because this would be the last time. Scream because right then the tower, the chamber filled with battle cries, all of it, just melted away. Nothing existed but the two of them. Even time itself ceased its relentless press forward.
Pangs of guilt stabbed into his heart as he knew this was all a sham for her. Nothing more than a way to dodge the obvious rape Keriim had waiting for her. But then, as he was sure she could stand it no more, as he was sure she would rip away from him and take his beating heart with her, her grip on his shoulders tightened. Ever so slightly, even if it was for an instant, she leaned in closer, her mouth open a little more. Before he knew what he was doing his arms encircled her, holding her tightly. He kissed her with his lips. His arms. If it was possible he kissed her with his soul. He wanted her to know that no matter what she thought of him now, he would love her for all time.
Finally, when he realized that he needed to breathe or die, Thaniel reached up and brushed back her hair with his fingertips.
“Maybe there is hope for you yet, Caller.” Irkhir’s grating voice cut through time, bringing back the horrid world with it. Even with the meaty hand resting on Thaniel’s shoulder, he couldn’t take his eyes of Elycia. She wouldn’t look at him. Wouldn’t confirm if she felt the same thing he did. Her eyes were riveted on the scaled path beneath her feet as she backed away.
“She’s depending on you, Caller.” Irkhir shouted above the din, momentarily stepping in front of her, purposefully eclipsing his sight of her with his massive bulk. Thaniel wasn’t sure if he was talking about Elycia or Lisella Ontar. He was pretty sure they both were now.