Ampheus

by Jonathan Forth

  “The scroll requests the assistance of Windstrom and its armies to come to the aid of Ampheus, and as one we will defeat Gorath once and for all. A similar plea was sent to Aquamura.” Elder Rian read the scroll, shook his head, and passed it to the Elder next to him who also studied the parchment.

  “I left Ampheus a month ago with Ambassador Martis, his retinue and twenty Amphean knights. I am the lone survivor. Dark angels and the Janshai hounded us. Ambassador Martis gave his life so that I could bring King Armanar’s message to you. He understood how critical it was.”

  The lady next to Elder Rian stood. “I am Elder Asha;” she said, “these are indeed grave missives and this is indeed a compelling petition. We need to confer; Terramis and Windstrom have been friends for a millennium. The siege of Ampheus and the death of Ambassador Martis are deeply distressing to us. However, raising Windstrom’s army is a weighty undertaking. We have to consider all implications before we make that decision; let’s not forget we have the Janshai sitting on our doorstep. I suggest you leave us to deliberate.”

  Without warning Mia banged her fist on the table. “Deliberate! Deliberate! What is there to deliberate?

  “The Ancient World is at war, have no doubt, and we must choose a side. Not just the side that may win, but the side that stands for everything that is right. Gorath’s assassins, who at this moment are camped outside our walls, already murdered our ambassador, so what more proof do we need?

  “If more Windstrom blood needs to be spilled and sacrificed in the name of truth then we must stand up for the sake of our very souls.”

  Elder Asha turned to face Mia. “My daughter, you are speaking out of turn; you have no authority here. The communion has spoken. We will consider what is best for Windstrom. You will receive our answer tomorrow. Now leave us!”

  “Nice, now who was being dramatic?” whispered Gulden to Mia as they left the room.

  They walked back to Gulden’s quarters but Gulden paused. “I would like to meet Ambassador Martis’s family to pay my respects.”

  Mia nodded. “That would be a noble gesture. Perhaps rest a little and I will fetch you later. I can also show you around Celestina. It is a most beautiful city.”

  On Mia’s return, Gulden again seemed to have made further progress in his recovery. “I am amazed that I am recovering so quickly; surely many of my wounds were life-threatening?”

  Mia smiled. “Well, we have our traditions here. Our healers’ secrets are passed down from generation to generation. These are not written down but only spoken of. We use herbs, plants, flowers and trees to help us heal and recover. We believe they have natural healing powers.

  For you we created poultices that helped your wounds mend. The poultices held a mixture of ingredients that aid the healing process. Flowers that thicken the blood so it stops flowing. Plant roots to reduce the swelling. Certain saps can be treated to create a sharp, sour-tasting liquid that cleans the cuts to minimise the likelihood of infection.

  You may not remember, as you were feverish. Our healers also believe that they can lay hands on the body to transfer energy from one to another. This can aid the body’s natural healing process. We call it Altha. Through the powers of Altha a healer can use their own energy to fortify that of the wounded. This helps to balance a body’s flow, and its energies can be harnessed to heal the damaged area of the body.”

  “How many people were walking round this room while I was feverish?” asked Gulden, feeling slightly embarrassed.

  “Don’t worry,” laughed Mia, “we did not need guards to manage the crowd. Mind you, most of the Windstrom womenfolk had not seen a naked Amphean knight before so there were a few.”

  “You are joking, right?” said Gulden, but Mia just cocked her head.

  “Look,” she said, and placed a hand on his chest. “Can you sense an energy, a warmth?”

  Gulden concentrated. “Yes,” he said, “I do, that’s amazing. My heart is beating faster and I am a little flushed.”

  “Hmm, very strange,” said Mia, “for I am not a healer!” She laughed out loud again as Gulden blushed.

  So Gulden quickly changed the subject. “I would love to see Celestina. Ambassador Martis spoke of the city with the same affection one would of a true love, but from whom he had long been parted. Lush gardens, waterfalls, brooks ambling through the city, dazzling pure white towers stretching to the sky.”

  Mia smiled. “It will be my pleasure to show you. There is a poem called Celestina,” she said.

  “Tranquil oasis in the sky,

  Rise pure and breathe new life,

  Deep in the heart of man’s desire,

  For love, for nature, for peace.”

  “That is…” Gulden paused. “Graceful, perhaps befitting the city itself.”

  Mia and Gulden strolled through the gardens barefoot, as was the custom. A light breeze cooled them, the wind skipping like a child scampering between buildings and trees, refreshed by ponds and fountains. Chimes tinkled delicately and ribbons of silk billowed in the wind.

  The houses were all founded from white marble and cool to the touch. The watchtowers with their slender frames curved up to the blue sky, the platforms above looking out to the horizons. The city was dotted with lakes reflecting the clouds and watchtowers above. Small brooks tumbled between ponds, cascading over rocky outcrops. Silver flashes of fish danced in the water.

  Mia and Gulden walked along pathways shaded by trees and bounded by a rainbow of flowers. Now and again they would pass through a shower of cherry blossom petals. The petals would gently caress their faces as they fluttered from the branches above. They crossed one of the small wooden arches that criss-crossed the brooks, stopped and sat under a trellis of trailing white blooms among the fruit trees.

  “This is by far the most breathtaking place I have ever seen,” said Gulden. “Don’t get me wrong, the meadows with their wild flowers and the woods of Terramis in the summer have their charm, though I don’t think even the gods could create something this exquisite.”

  Mia smiled and took Gulden’s arm. “Perhaps one day we can stroll together through the fields of Ampheus. I would still like to see them.”

  They walked and Gulden paused and said, “I am still mystified how you got to me so fast, just in time to save my life?”

  Mia smiled; she had a twinkle in her eye. “Perhaps I should introduce you to Storm Pride, my mount. Let’s take the steps up to the watchtower.”

  They slowly climbed up the spiral staircase to the high platform and stepped out into the light. Gulden was taken aback by the view which stretched to the horizon. His face darkened when he saw the smoke from an encampment a few leagues to the west. “The Janshai?”

  “Yes,” replied Mia.

  “I should just go down there and slaughter them one by one.”

  Mia took Gulden’s arm and squeezed it. “It’s only natural to feel that way. There are those among us who would support you. Their leader’s name was Worak. Remember that name, knight of Ampheus. But we must respect the Elders and their decision. Tomorrow all will be a little clearer.

  “Now, Storm Pride.” Mia left Gulden’s side and stepped back to what appeared to be a stable at the back of the watchtower. Mia brought Storm Pride out by her reins. She screeched, the sun glinting off her beak and golden feathers, her muscles rippling down her lion’s back and stocky legs.

  Gulden was completely taken aback. “A griffin. Storm Pride is a griffin? No wonder. She is beautiful, truly majestic.” Mia nodded while stroking her neck.

  “To some the griffin is a terrifying beast. Celestina has had an enduring affinity with the griffin. The eagle is seen as the ‘king of the birds’. The lion, the ‘king of the beasts’. So, the griffin is revered here as a majestic creature. It is said their power and beauty protects us from the evil in the world. Look to our towers, the flags, and our standards. All ha
ve the heraldry of the golden griffin.

  “Every five years a pair arrives at Celestina. We don’t know where they come from, they just materialise out of the east. Legend has it that the griffins had almost been hunted to the last. The final pair was flying to the mountains to live out their days in peace when they saw Celestina down below. So overjoyed and in awe of the beauty, they vowed that only this city was worthy of a griffin’s presence.

  “It is said that the griffins that reside here are the direct descendants of that last pair. It is also said they themselves battle one another for the right to dwell in Celestina. It is foretold that Celestina will only fall when there are no griffins making their home here. So, while Storm Pride and her ilk are here, there is hope.

  “In Windstrom there are many poems and verses written to honour them. When a new pair arrives it is traditional for the following verse to be spoken by an Elder:

  We welcome our griffin brethren to Celestina,

  The brightest star fallen from the heavens to the earth itself,

  We welcome our griffin from the mountains at the edge of the sky,

  A symbol of vigilance and strength,

  With the head of a winged eagle and body of a lion,

  You have dominion over the earth and heaven,

  Protect our bright star so it may shine for ever so.”

  Mia shrugged.

  “All girls that are in their tenth year on the arrival of the griffins are said to be ‘Sky Born’. They present themselves to the griffins. The griffins select one warrior to pair with them by a bow of their head and the tip of a beak. The selected children learn to ride and train to fight alongside the griffins and become fully-fledged warriors at the age of fifteen.

  “Like myself. I have been a sky-born warrior for five years. After twenty-five years, just as they came, they leave us and head back to the mountains. At any point in time we have ten griffins here helping to protect Celestina.

  The griffins form a strong bond with their sky born.” She chuckled, “But they can be a little tetchy to say the least with anyone else, so I suggest you don’t get too close.

  It was Storm Pride who carried you back to Celestina.”

  “Carried me back? What about you?” asked Gulden.

  She hesitated. “I stayed and faced the Janshai.”

  “You did what?” exclaimed Gulden, and gazed upon Mia with a renewed respect.

  “Courageous indeed, and more than a little rash.”

  “Ummm, my commander would agree with you.”

  He took her hand and said, “But thank you, nonetheless,” and she blushed.

  “Tell me about your mother.”

  “Really there is not too much to tell. She is one of the Elders. She too was sky born. In fact, it is very unusual for both mother and daughter to be sky born. Petty jealousies sometimes are an issue and I live under my mother’s shadow to an extent.

  “She was a great warrior and highly regarded. Some suspect in some way the griffin was prompted to choose me as a result.

  “I know that is not the case. Storm Pride chose me in my own right. With my mother being an Elder and prominent in Celestina though, it is always a taunt I will face.”

  Gulden nodded. “Well, you need to be true to yourself. Perhaps what may befall us in the coming months may be your opportunity to prove yourself and write your own legend.”

  They made their way to Ambassador Martis’s residence and, as they approached, Gulden could imagine him tending his gardens. There was an array of colours and the lawns were a wonderfully verdant green. They were a labour of love, and perhaps where a happy family would have spent much of the time.

  The Ambassador’s wife opened the door as they arrived. She had been weeping and was obviously still distraught at the news of her husband’s passing. Gulden talked her through the Ambassador’s last days. How he talked fondly of his family and how he and Gulden’s men had made the ultimate sacrifice so Gulden could reach Celestina and complete his mission. It was some comfort to the Ambassador’s wife, though could never replace the man himself. He knew that.

  In time, Gulden became aware of a little girl watching them from a nearby doorway. He beckoned her over and she approached timidly and stood behind her mother clinging on to her leg.

  He got down on one knee. “Are you Sparrow?” he asked, and she nodded. “The last thing your father did after he gave me the King’s scroll, was put this in my hand.

  “He folded it into my fist and cupped it with his hands. ‘Give this to my Sparrow,’ he said. ‘She is the most precious thing to me.’” Gulden opened his hand and passed the little girl the crude wooden carving of a bird that was held on a neck chain.

  She took it. “I made this for my father. He called me Sparrow after the sparrows that would feed on my window ledge.” Her eyes welled up with tears, and she threw herself against Gulden’s shoulder and wept.

  “I promise you I will find the man who murdered your father, and my men and I will make him pay,” vowed Gulden.

  As they were saying their farewells, a steward approached to let them know the Elders had made their decision already. Gulden and Mia headed directly back to the communion hall. The room was much fuller than earlier in the day, with other dignitaries and military officers also in attendance. Mia and Gulden stood watching from the back of the room.

  Elder Rian stood. A hush fell about the room. “I know everyone here today is aware of the events unfolding across the Ancient World. Old animosities and hatreds rear their ugly heads once more. All that is worthy in the world comes under the threat of death and darkness.

  “It is with a heavy heart that I say this as the lives of our youngest and finest may be cut short. But I also know it is the courage and bravery of our warriors that the world cries out for today.

  “Windstrom is a proud nation, one with a fine heritage and traditions worthy of great sacrifice. We will not stand by as our friends and neighbours suffer unspeakable hardships. Bonds that have lasted thousands of years will not be broken now.

  “Windstrom will go to war.

  “Prepare the armies. We march to Ampheus.”

  There was a cacophony around the room. “Troth to the Realms! Troth to the Realms!”

  The next morning, Gulden, Mia and a further fifty Windstrom knights rode out to the Janshai camp. By the time they arrived, the Janshai were already mounted with Worak resting on his horse, front and centre. “So, the Terramian dog and the Windstrom kitten that saved his life ride side by side. Hey dog, first you run away while the rest of your mongrel pack were slaughtered, then you needed to be saved by a kitten.”

  Mia shook her head at Gulden. “Oh Amphean, kitten got your tongue?” taunted Worak.

  The commander spoke: “Enough, barbarian; that’s rich from Gorath’s lapdog. Go back to your master. Tell him the Windstrom are coming. Tell him if it’s war he wants, it’s war he’ll get. And Janshai, there is nowhere for you to hide, we will find you. The Windstrom to avenge the death of their ambassador, the Amphean to lay the memories of his fallen comrades in peace.

  “Now go, do not loiter and outstay your welcome. Else the first blood that will be spilt will be that of you and your Janshai vermin that stain the earth by their mere presence on it.”

  Worak nodded. “So be it Windstrom, but remember this day, as this is the day that decided your fate.” With that he turned his horse and the Janshai rode off into the distance.

  “Did you get a good look at him?” said Mia.

  Gulden turned and looked at her. “It is a face I will never forget until I strike down its owner with my blade.” With that the Windstrom knights turned and rode back to Celestina.

  Chapter 21

  To Fight Another Day

  Queen Laila stepped into the dungeon. Rolden turned to the Luminean Guard and said, “I would appreciate it if we could find so
me blankets, food and other essentials to help make Her Majesty’s stay more comfortable.” The guard nodded.

  Rolden added, “Your Majesty, I will return as promptly as I can.” And the door shut behind him. The only light in the room came through the bars of the door and an oil lamp in the corner of the room.

  The Queen surveyed the room and muttered to herself, “I wonder if all dungeons are this depressing.”

  She was startled when a voice said, “I can assure you, Your Majesty, that all dungeons are pretty much the same.

  “You know they could paint them pink, make lace curtains and create some calming ambient lighting. But I suspect it would just show up the blood too much and it would be a bugger to clean.”

  The Queen focused on an eye, which flickered in the flame of the oil lamp. “No, black walls with some straw on the floor to soak up the blood; it’s for the best. Low maintenance you see. Plus, the rats prefer it. No self-respecting rat would be seen in a room with doilies on small side tables.”

  “Right!” said the Queen, stepping backwards. “Thank you for the insightful perspective, but who’s there? Perhaps you should introduce yourself rather than skulking in the corner!”

  The pirate stepped forward into the light. Oddly enough it was probably quicker to explain what bits of him that remained, instead of missing. He did have one leg and one arm, though only three fingers on the hand of that arm. One eye. One ear. A multitude of scars, each one likely a happy memory.

  Perhaps his most striking feature was the mass of ginger hair that matted his head and his chin.

  “Arrghh, Your Majesty. Let me introduce myself, seeing as we are going to be dungeon pals for the foreseeable future. I am the shrewdest, cunningest, cleverest, cut-throatest pirate, sorry privateer, ever to sail the Aquamuran Sea and beyond.

  “They call me…”