The Alabaster Throne (The Fall of Atlantis Book 1)

by Wilson Harp

  “She was cold and didn’t know what she was doing,” Tal said. “Go get some sleep.”

  Jubaas left the fire and Tal was left with his thoughts. The hours passed slow as Tal imagined the battle over and over. The man in the dream told Tal to share in his glory. That was why Praset’s chariot was beside him, and Brotin was on the far side of Tal, at the beginning of the battle instead of directly behind him.

  Galius had taken an arrow in the back during the initial charge of his battle. If Praset had wanted to kill the sons of Fa'amuil, then battle would give him the opportunity. Tal shook his head. He didn’t want to entertain that possibility. He would ask the prophet.

  The sky in the east had just lightened a shade when Daelcor rose and staggered out of the camp to relieve himself. Meleus yawned and sat up, then dropped his head back down.

  Tal stood, stretched and looked at the sky. It would be time to leave soon, and he checked on the pot of rabbit stew which was settled on the coals from the night before.

  “Don’t eat all of that, others might want some too,” said Daelcor.

  The others woke as the smell of the stew filled the camp and soon they were all fed and ready for their day’s journey.

  “We won’t reach it tonight?” Meleus said as he looked up the trail before them. “If the shrine is at the top, it seems as if it were less than we walked yesterday.”

  “It may be less steps, but they are steps upwards. Your legs will grow tired long before you might believe,” said Jubaas.

  The others discovered the scout was right. By the time the sun was at the noon hour, Tal’s legs burned and his pace had slowed, and not just to allow for the others. He called a halt in their walk to rest and to refresh with some food. After he had eaten, he took his bow and walked to the edge of the trail. There, just beyond a screen of trees, he looked out on a broad meadow which graced the side of the mountain. He stepped to the edge of the meadow and drank in the sight of the brightly colored wildflowers which had bloomed. Above the beautiful scene, an eagle floated on the air with the grace and majesty which announced his position as a messenger of Balket.

  “It’s a spectacular view, isn’t it?” Siande said.

  Tal smiled as she spoke. Her voice always made him smile. “It is, and it serves to remind us life continues away from our problems and intrigues.”

  “After this is over, perhaps we can travel the countryside and see more of this beauty.”

  “Together?” Tal asked.

  “Would that not be something you would enjoy?”

  Tal stared in the distance for a few moments. “Were your blankets warm enough last night?” he finally asked.

  “I was a little chilled, so I drew near for warmth. Did that please you?”

  Tal smiled. “It did indeed, though I didn’t realize it until now.”

  Two birds burst from the trees above them and flew above the meadow. Siande laughed as the birds flitted and whirled in the air, a mating dance which was chaotic and beautiful.

  “They’re so happy and carefree. I wonder if I will ever be so,” she said.

  “I am sure you will be,” said Tal. He looked at her and saw the woman she was quickly growing to become.

  Her eyes opened wide and her mouth fell open. “Oh no!” she cried as she looked skyward.

  Tal had the bow in his hand and an arrow out of the quiver before he saw what terrified her. The eagle which had been in his majestic height hurtled downward toward the pair of young birds who danced and flitted above the meadow.

  Tal’s eyes focused and his jaw clenched. He pulled the bow string taut as he knocked his arrow and aimed about five spans in front of the diving bird. He loosed the arrow and felt a deep satisfaction as the arrow found its mark and plunged deep into the eagle’s chest.

  The shot was clean and the eagle fell into the tall grass without a sound, but Tal heard the sharp gasp from beside him.

  “What did you do?” asked Siande. “Do you know what you’ve done? That was an eagle, a messenger of Balket.”

  “He should have stayed in the air and not threatened those young lovers.”

  “But you’ve angered Balket.”

  “I did what’s right,” said Tal. He looked at Siande and took her hand. “I will always do what’s right. Even if the gods disapprove.”

  “You would defy the gods for birds?”

  “I would defy the gods to see you smile.”

  She smiled and he smiled back at her.

  “Come,” he said. “The others will grow concerned. We still have a half day journey ahead of us, and the mountain does not care if we smile or not.”

  The climb grew steeper with every hour, and soon even Jubaas had slowed to a stagger.

  “We are almost to the top of this ridge,” he said. “The ascent to the shrine will be easier from there.”

  “I can see why many have never visited the shrine,” Daelcor said. “No one would make this climb unless they had great need.”

  The priest had stopped his complaints several hours earlier, and Tal knew he must truly be exhausted and pained.

  Meleus was pale in the face and his jaw was set. He looked ill, but denied it whenever anyone asked.

  “Let’s push on,” Tal said. “We will crest the ridge and find a place to set camp. Tomorrow we can have an easier day of travel.”

  Jubaas didn’t speak in response, he just nodded and quickened his pace. The others followed as best they could, the promise of sleep and rest gave them added encouragement.

  The sun drifted closer to the edge of the trees as they climbed and Tal feared they would be plunged into dark before they reached the top. He wanted to find a good place to build a fire and sleep, and where they were offered few good choices. The ground was rocky and the trees, while numerous, did not provide good protection from the strong, cold wind which buffeted them for the last several hours.

  “We’re here,” Jubaas said. He turned back and helped Meleus forward.

  “You need rest,” he told the pale man.

  Tal’s arms and legs both ached, but he turned to help Siande.

  “Do you need help?” he asked. They had given her the lightest load by at least half after the first day, but she still struggled.

  “I’ll be fine, my prince. I just long for my blankets.”

  “As do we all,” said Tal.

  They climbed a few steep feet and found themselves on a rocky shelf which gave a wide view to the east. Daelcor and Meleus sat on the ground and Jubaas scanned the trees that blanketed the side of the mountain to the west.

  “We’ll have rest when we find a camp site,” Tal said.

  “His wound has opened again,” Daelcor said. “He can’t carry this pack anymore.”

  “Siande, carry my spear,” Tal said.

  He handed her his weapon and lifted the pack which Meleus had borne. It was the heaviest pack and Tal struggled under the additional weight.

  “Let’s find a place to camp,” he told Jubaas. “It doesn’t have to be ideal, just out of this wind and dry if possible.”

  Jubaas trotted toward the trees as Daelcor helped Meleus to his feet.

  “I’m sorry, my prince, I don’t mean for you to carry so much.”

  “It’s no real burden, Meleus. We need to get you to a fire where you can be tended.”

  Tal moved toward the trees where Jubaas had disappeared. As much as the others, he desired to fall asleep and rest. His body ached and the wind cut through his light clothing. It was a warm late spring day when they had left Mestor, and yet a day’s walk up the mountain had transported them to a cold autumn night. He longed for his thick tunics and heavy cloaks, or at least a warm fire and a place out of the wind.

  Jubaas appeared and motioned them to follow. By the time Tal reached him, the scout had cleared a place for a fire and had piled several small branches in place.

  “Will Meleus be well?” Siande asked as she dropped her pack by a tree and handed Tal his spear.

  “I don’
t know, Daelcor said his wound opened again. I don’t know how bad he’s injured.”

  The priest led Meleus to a large pine tree and had him sit with his back against the trunk. He set down his pack and started his examination of Meleus.

  “Come, you can help me and Jubaas start the fire,” Tal said to Siande.

  By the time the fire burned bright, the sun had hidden itself behind the mountain and the cold crept in even closer.

  Daelcor had washed and examined the seeping wound on Meleus’ chest. He made a poultice of herbs and wrapped it with a fresh bandage. Tal watched from the fire, his brow creased.

  “I shouldn’t have let him come,” he muttered.

  “I don’t think he would have been left behind. You had more chance convincing the girl to let you out of her sight,” Jubaas said.

  Tal looked over at Siande as she arranged her blankets near where he had set his own.

  “I suppose you are right. But I still should have realized he would not be at his full strength. And I should have tested his pack to see how heavy it was.”

  “We will eat and drink out of his pack tonight and tomorrow morning. When we reach the shrine, we can rid ourselves of things we’ll not need on the trip back.”

  Tal nodded. “That is wisdom, though it might be better to spend time there until Meleus is able to travel without worry.”

  “I’ll need to leave no more than three mornings from now. I must tend to the fields and make sure they are planted,” Jubaas said.

  “Can others do it for you?”

  “There is no other. My mother doesn’t have the strength to pull the plow and I’m the only man there.”

  “That’s a heavy burden.”

  “No more than others face. This is life. We work hard, we have moments of happiness, and we hope to have a good, peaceful death surrounded by those we love.”

  Tal could only nod. He never thought about the men who marched to battle. They went because they were ordered by the king, and they were taken from their fields or positions in the city. If they were slain on the field, there was always another to replace them. At least when the army was summoned. But if they were slain, there was no one to replace them in their homes. There was no one to plow the fields, to tend the flocks, to bring home food from their day of labor.

  “We should eat something before sleep takes us,” Tal said.

  “Soon,” said Jubaas looking back toward the road. “But first, we have visitors.”

  Tal looked to where Jubaas motioned. Several dark figures moved toward their fire.

  “Daelcor, we need you. As we discussed,” Tal said.

  When they planned this journey, it was decided anyone who came upon them would be told Daelcor, as a priest, was summoned to the shrine and he traveled with a small retinue of servants.

  Tal and Jubaas took their spears and waited by the fire. Siande left her preparations and went to where Meleus sat, while Daelcor wiped his hands and stepped into the light of the fire to watch the men approach.

  “Hail, travelers,” one of the men said as they slowed just outside the light of the fire. “You travel in hostile lands, but I see you are armed and aware, that’s wise.”

  “You hail us as travelers, yet are you not as well?” Daelcor asked.

  “We are looking for someone.”

  “You have found several someones. Who do you seek?”

  “Are you not a priest?” asked the man.

  “I am,” said Daelcor. “And headed to the shrine. We’ll arrive tomorrow.”

  “The road is dangerous and we have been sent to escort you.”

  “If you have been sent by the shrine, then you are welcome at our fire,” Tal said. He motioned with his spear for them to come forward, as his left hand slipped to the handle of his knife.

  The men stepped toward the fire and their reek reached Tal’s nose. He saw the weapons in their hands and the smiles on their faces as they stepped into the light. They thought they would catch travelers unaware, but Tal had another plan for these bandits.

  Chapter 10

  Tal exhaled, though his body wanted to hold the breath in. He didn’t want to reveal he knew the men were bandits until they stepped close enough that the light from the fire was in their eyes. He chanced a quick glance at Jubaas and saw the scout shift his weight to his right leg. He was ready for the attack.

  Two of the bandits stepped close to him and Jubaas. The one nearest Jubaas had a shield and a small wood axe, while the one who approached closer to Tal had a short spear and was the one who spoke. He had fringes of grey around his rough beard and had lost most of his hair from the front. His eyes darted to all of the people in the camp, and his mouth tugged into a slight smile when he saw Siande.

  He turned to speak to Tal, his breath reeked of strong drink and his body and clothes needed washing. What words he would say Tal would never know, and he would never get his needed bath.

  Tal pulled his long knife from his belt and stabbed into the man’s stomach in a single motion. The man jerked back and swung his spear wildly in the air. Tal turned and used his shoulder to shove the wounded man into his partner. Jubaas had attempted to trip the other man with his spear, but the bandits were used to combat, and the man was nimble. He hopped over the butt of the spear, but was knocked forward when Tal shoved his leader into his back.

  Jubaas jumped back and pulled his knife as his spear was trapped beneath the fallen men.

  “Kill them,” one of the other bandits cried. He and his fellow bandit charged Tal and Jubaas with their spear points down.

  Tal knocked away one of the spears and he heard Jubaas dart into the darkness away from the bandits. Tal twisted away from the second spear, and swung high with his own. He needed to keep them in front of himself if he could.

  A hand grabbed his ankle, and he jumped back out of its reach. Both of the men on the ground pulled to their knees as one of the spearmen drove him back to the fire. Tal rebalanced himself and thrust low at the spearman cutting him along the leg.

  The man cried in pain and struck a light blow with the shaft of his spear on Tal’s arm. The one with the shield and axe cried in pain as Jubaas stabbed him in the back as he tried to stand.

  “Push him, grab the girl,” the grey beard cried.

  Tal knew his knife had gone deep and the man would likely die before the night was out, but for now he still had some fight in him.

  Siande screamed and Tal’s head jerked in response. He saw one of the spearmen headed toward her and Meleus, who was crouched by the tree.

  The blade of a spear slashed close to his face, and Tal’s attention was focused on the fight in front of him again. As the spearman pulled his weapon back to take another thrust, Tal leaped at him and twisted his own spear around his opponent’s. The blade sunk deep and pierced the bandit’s ribs.

  A spray of blood hit the side of Tal’s face as he wrenched his spear free. He spun toward the other bandit and jerked his head back from the blade which slashed right at him. The blade caught his face, though, and he stumbled back. He made a wild thrust with his spear as the sting from his wound caused his jaw to clench. The bandit pushed forward and lifted the long knife to stab downward. His blow wavered and Tal rolled to his right. The man fell face down in the dirt and didn’t move.

  “My prince,” Jubaas said. “Are you hurt?”

  Tal looked up at the scout with a bloody knife in his hand.

  “I think I was hit, but not bad,” said Tal. “Are they dead or did some run?”

  Jubaas looked around the camp site. “I count four down,” he said. “Were there more?”

  “Four was all I saw,” Tal said as he climbed to his feet.

  He looked around the camp to make sure all the others were well. Siande stood with her back to a tree. She had a metal pot in her hand. Meleus was next to her, crouched over a bandit. His spear’s blade shimmered red in the light from the fire.

  “Tal, are you hurt?” said Daelcor.

  Tal threw his
spear onto the ground. “Where were you?” he bellowed at the priest. “I count two men killed by him,” he pointed at Jubaas, “and one taken by my own spear. And you? You found a place to hide. Even Meleus took up a spear. He did his duty.”

  “My prince, you are wounded,” said Jubaas. “Please allow the priest to tend to you.”

  Daelcor was pale with fright and shook as he looked away. “I did not know what to do, my lord. I have never been in combat before.”

  Tal wiped his cheek and looked at his hand. It was soaked in blood and the slight sting he had felt grew into an agony.

  “Please sit, my prince,” said Jubaas as he lowered Tal to the ground. “We are soldiers, trained in arms and combat. Even Meleus has practiced the spear in the yard. The priest would no none of these things.”

  Tal took a deep breath and motioned for Daelcor to approach.

  “I am sorry, Tal. I didn’t—“

  Tal cut him off with a motion. “It wasn’t your fault. You’ve never faced it before. I spoke in haste. Let’s all forget the words were spoken.”

  Daelcor poured water from a skin into a bowl and then slowly poured it over Tal’s face. The wound burned and Tal winced as the priest examined him.

  “It’s a long, deep cut. Just a bit higher and he would have taken your eye. Chew on this,” Daelcor said as he handed Tal a bundle of dried herbs.

  “This will heal me?”

  “Dull the pain. It’s a leaf from Del’rak. It will cause your mind to float a bit, but your pain will diminish.”

  Tal put the bundle in his mouth and bit down. Pain shot through his head.

  “I will need to sew it shut.” Daelcor said.

  “It will scar?” Tal asked.

  Daelcor nodded. “I’m afraid so. I don’t know how bad it will be. Morning will show us better, but the skin needs to be sewn together.”

  “Check the bodies,” Tal said to Jubaas as he sat near. “See if any live. Meleus, please attend me.”

  Meleus moved to where Tal could see him as the priest worked.

  “Thank you for protecting Siande. Even injured you served me beyond what would be expected.”