by R. L. Poston
“Now what have you learned by this?” asked Jaris. “And, if the first thing out of your mouth isn’t that you’ve learned to come to me with problems that you can’t handle, I’m going to demote you.”
* * * * *
The next afternoon, an older, pleasant-looking man with calm features and thinning brown hair found Larken in his office.
“I am Sam, sir,” he said as he entered with a slight bow. “I’ve been assigned as your personal assistant.”
“Welcome, Sam,” said Larken as he rose to meet him. “How do we start this? You’ll find that I’m a novice on a lot of stuff.”
“That’s good, sir,” said Sam, taking the seat that Larken indicated. “That means we can set our own course. Why don’t we talk about your duties, and let me suggest where I can help? I have a couple of lads assigned to me to help. By the way, let me say how much I’m looking forward to this. The castle is buzzing with rumors about you, and I’m going to enjoy being the person who will work with you.”
Larken found that he really enjoyed Sam’s company as the day progressed. During the next few weeks, they settled down into a comfortable routine. Sam was able to take much of the normal load off Larken’s shoulders and was even able to juggle his schedule to make it more efficient. Larken began to suspect that there had to be a Talent for administration, because Sam seemed to work miracles behind his back.
As the time pressure on Larken faded, his mood turned more positive and he began to feel in control of his situation. After three months of Sam’s adept management of his schedule, Larken had to admit to Gahen one evening that he actually had begun to enjoy being a Warder and looked forward to each new challenge. An added benefit that he did not share with Gahen was that he and Melona were able to spend more time together, even having the luxury of scheduling regular meals with each other. Sam would not admit it, but Larken suspected that Sam took considerable efforts to help Melona and Larken in that endeavor.
Chapter 12: Strange Request from the Elves
Larken’s frequent interactions with the High Council, with Jaris, and with the other second-ranked Warders made him increasingly more at ease with his peers and himself. Larken began to accept himself as a valuable member of the Warder hierarchy and was not particularly surprised by the request for his presence at another High Council meeting. Entering the room, he spotted the other second rank Warders scattered throughout the room, seated in chairs along the walls. He noted the presence of several of the Healers and took a seat beside Gahen.
Along with the others, he rose for the entrance of King Andreas, First Chair Henkri, First Healer Amanda, and Commander Jaris. A murmur of surprise swept softly through the room when a tall Elf accompanied them into the room.
After beginning the meeting with the formal words of ceremony, Henkri quickly moved to speak of the purpose of the meeting. “We have known for a while that there have been frequent raids on our sister kingdom Norland in the north. The raids are mixed in nature. Some are by large bands, some by small bands, a few by organized militia. Overall, the raiders seem to be testing the defenses of Norland more than seriously trying to invade it. Yesterday, our Elven neighbors brought us a report of forays by small bands of strange Elves within the forests of the Sarkan Mountains. The raids on Norland and the Sarkan Mountains seem to be linked by the medallions that some of the Elves and the raiders wear. We have a few of them with us today. Please examine them as we pass them around. I am particularly interested in knowing if anyone has seen them before.”
One of the medallions was passed to Larken. It was a flat ebony stone set in silver. The stone itself had no markings, but the silver edges were engraved with a cross-hatched pattern. Larken flinched when he first touched the medallion and then gingerly passed it to Tragen.
First Chair Henkri did not miss Larken’s reaction. “What do you make of the medallion, Warder Larken? You seem to be ill at ease with it.”
Larken was silent for a moment, collecting his emotions more than his thoughts. “It has the same kind of feeling as the power that I struggled with during my Bonding. If I may ask, sir, what is known of this?”
“Little, Warder Larken,” Henkri answered. “But your comment, along with a request from our Elven comrades, is going to cause much disquiet in our kingdom, I fear. In the way of explanation, allow me to recognize Algowinon, bearing a message from our Elven brothers.” Nodding to the tall Elf, who was seated against the wall, the first chair took his seat.
The Elf rose and moved to stand at the corner of the table so that he could be seen and could see all in the room. Speaking carefully, he began, “I am Algowinon. Pardon my misuse of your language. I learned it late in life and not perfectly.” He paused for a moment, as if debating his next words, then continued. “As some know, we are guided by a Council also. Our Council has sent me with a request for your assistance. We can sense the approach of a large bag—no—a large group, north of the Seagrave. We believe it is the sending of someone like the Dark One. You call him the Dread King. We believe that either he is alive or someone has become like him.”
The effect on the room was predictable. Several people began to ask questions at once. Others talked excitedly with their neighbors. Algowinon waited in silence. The first chair rose and extended his arms for silence. “If I may,” said the first chair to the room, “allow me to put our questions in rational order to Friend Algowinon.” Receiving nods from most, he turned to Algowinon. “First, tell us how you can sense the approach of a large group from so far away. We believed that your perception of life was just as limited as our normal sight.”
“You are not wrong,” answered Algowinon. “But in melding—in combing minds into one—the word is correct?” At this, he received a nod from Henkri. “With melding, we can perceive large groupings together as one. In that way, we knew a large group was approaching.”
“You mean that the Council can meld their minds together to perceive large groups of life at a distance?” clarified the first chair. Algowinon nodded acquiescence. The first chair continued, “What do you mean by ‘north of the Seagrave’? There is only sea north of the Seagrave. Also, how large is this group that you believe is approaching.”
“There is sea, but there is land there next to the sea,” answered Algowinon. “I do not know how to say it. The group moves next to the sea north of the Seagrave.”
“Ah, you mean along the northern border of the Seagrave, where the Seagrave Desert meets the sea. Along the shore, as we would call it.” Again, Algowinon nodded.
“How large is the group?” asked Henkri for the second time.
“We do not know. We guess that it is close to five thousands.”
“Why come to us?” asked Henkri. “Won't the invasion come to Norland?”
“Yes,” answered Algowinon. “We have sent others to tell them. But the invaders may turn aside from Norland and come to us here instead.”
“OK,” said Henkri. “Then we must be prepared to fight them on our northern borders. But, tell me, why do you believe that this involves someone like the Dread King?”
Algowinon answered, “The Elves that invade us are from the Dristan Mountains. That was his region. The medallions are carried by both Elves and men. Someone has brought men and Elves together. That hasn’t been done since the Dark One. Then there are the attacks. It is like him.”
“Do you mean,” interjected Henkri, “that the attacks are similar to the historical records of how they fought before or that only one like him would attack our nations?”
“Both. The attacks are like him. They seek only to kill and destroy, not to take. But only he would attack us. We know of no other kingdom that could attack us from there.”
“Do you seriously entertain the idea that it actually could be the Dark One himself?” asked the first chair. This question caused several frowns of puzzlement among the room’s occupants, but no one interrupted the first chair. King Andreas gave a nod of approval at the question.
“I
have been sent because I have long studied the Dark One’s works and am most familiar with his powers,” answered Algowinon. “I believe that he is still alive. If he is not, then another has become like him.”
“Why have you come now?” asked Henkri. “To ask our help in repelling these attacks?”
“Yes. And because of him,” answered Algowinon, pointing to Larken.
In contrast to the outburst in the room at his first speech, dead silence now prevailed. Larken was painfully aware of the silence. “Go on,” said Henkri calmly.
“We have watched him long, as you know. He has much power. We believe it is time for him to help us. We ask his help now.”
“Why?” asked Henkri.
“Because of the approach of the Dark One’s army,” said Algowinon.
“No,” returned Henkri. “That only gives us the timing of your request. What is the rest of the reason for it? Why do you need Warder Larken?”
“I have said that one like the Dark One may exist. I do not think this. I have studied the ways of the Dark One for a long time as you would count the years,” answered Algowinon. “I believe that he still lives.”
“Then why haven’t we seen evidence of him before?” interrupted King Andreas with a scowl.
“I believe that he was alive, but not aware,” answered Algowinon.
“You mean that you think the Dark One, as you call him, was asleep, dormant, since his defeat?” asked Henkri.
“Yes,” answered Algowinon. “But I believe he was not sleeping. I believe that his attention was turned elsewhere.”
“Where?” asked Henkri. “And, again, why would Warder Larken need to be involved?”
“I believe that the Dark One has been focused on the Source,” answered Algowinon. “To where the Talents come from.”
Several in the room interrupted to voice their confusion. Henkri asked for order and, receiving it, said to Algowinon, “This is new to us. Perhaps you should explain this ‘Source’ to us and also explain your studies. Again, I must ask you, ‘Why do you need Warder Larken?’”
Algowinon nodded. “I will explain. About the Source—some believe that Talent comes from the person. Some believe that Talent comes from outside the person. I believe that Talent comes from outside the person. That the person uses Talent but does not hold it. Many years ago, the question did not matter. I believe now it does.
“I have studied the Dark One a long time. He left behind many…I apologize. I do not know the word. It is like a footprint, or shadow, but more like the heat from a log that had burned but not now.”
“Try ‘traces,’” suggested Henkri.
Algowinon nodded. “I studied things and places that held these traces of his power. I tried to understand what kind of Talent the Dark One used. It was my life work, but I hurried because the traces faded each year. I traveled far. I sailed on the North Sea to the east, but I did not land. When I came near the east edge of the Seagrave, I turned back. I felt there the Dark One’s power. Not a trace, as you call it, but a present power. It did not find me because it was turned elsewhere—to the Source.”
“I came back. I told all to our Council. I have sailed many times since. The last time, the Dark One found me. He was not turned elsewhere. He was aware. I escaped, but not easily. I was far away when he found me. He is alive. He is awake. The Dark One is not asleep.”
Henkri had already held up his hand to stifle any reaction, and those in the room waited for his lead. “You have yet to tell us why you need Warder Larken,” observed Henkri. “Perhaps we need to know what the Dark One is doing with this Source.”
Algowinon bowed his acquiescence. “First, I will tell you of the Dark One’s doing. Allow me to ask a question. You have seen a littling of Talent in time past and recently, yes?”
A murmur swept the room. “Yes, we have, a decrease,” answered Henkri, giving Algowinon the proper word. “It has worried us for years and has alarmed us during the recent months. It has not been discussed out of this room, however, and is not common knowledge. What has that to do with the Dark One?”
“I believe that he has studied long the Source. I believe he tries to block the Source from all but him. I believe he has learned how to do so. The Fellowship has seen a decrease in Talent in recent years, but, like you, they have seen more decrease now.”
Commander Jaris rose from his seat at this point. “Excuse me, First Chair, but my head is swimming. May I?” Getting a nod from Henkri, he turned to Algowinon. “Are you saying that the Dark One, as you call him, is cutting us off from the Source of Talent?”
Algowinon simply nodded.
“That’s incredible. First you say that he is alive. Then you say that he is cutting us off from our Talent. I’m not sure that I can believe that. If you are correct, we have a much bigger problem than we thought. Can he cut us off completely?”
There was a long silence. Then Algowinon answered, “The Source cannot be shielded by him all at once. It would awaken to its own danger and would prevent it.”
At this point, the whole room was swept by questions. Several people, including King Andreas, had reacted to Algowinon’s statement with complete amazement. Henkri had to pound the table for order. After order had been restored, Henkri said, “This may take a while, but I think that we need to understand your last statement, Algowinon. Can you explain it?” At this point, Henkri was interrupted by an old, thin, bowed Healer who approached the head of the table.
“If I may, First Chair. I am Gwendolyn. It has been my responsibility and joy these many years to study the nature of Talent. Perhaps I can guide the discussion better.”
Henkri bowed approval and sat down, obviously relieved to have someone else lead the session for the moment.
Gwendolyn addressed the meeting. “First, let me tell you something of what we have been able to learn about the Source, as Algowinon calls it. It is not in a localized place. It is not a thing that we can compare to anything else. It seems to react to happenings in our world, almost as if it were aware. It seems to grow stronger in times of need and become weaker in times of peace. That is the best explanation I can give you in a short period of time.” Turning to Algowinon, she asked, “Is that your understanding?”
Algowinon answered, “Yes.”
“Please tell us more about how the Dark One would block the Source from us.”
Algowinon was silent for a few seconds. At last, he began, “Block is a good word. The Source is everywhere; at least it can be touched from everywhere. I don’t know if the Source grows stronger and weaker at some times or if we are closer or further away from it at some times. The Dark One seeks to weaken our ability to use the Source. Either he has discovered a way to weaken it, to put it asleep, or to make it more difficult for us to find it. I will need more study to know this. I believed for a long time that if he tried to block it all, he will create a greater need for it, and it will grow stronger or closer. It would wake, or, else, we would find it more, so that the Dark One could not weaken us. Now, I am not sure.”
“I would like to discuss this with you privately later,” said Gwendolyn. “Some of the other Talented students would also like to hear of your studies. But, in the meanwhile, can you tell us how Warder Larken can help you?”
“Yes,” replied Algowinon. “The Dark One tries to strengthen his Talent while weakening ours. I believe that he”—he pointed to Larken—“shares the same path to the Source that the Dark One uses. It is unblocked and grows more powerful.”
Oblivious to others’ reactions in the room, Gwendolyn said, “You think that the Dark One has maintained a private channel for himself to the Source while shutting down the other channels?”
“Yes,” replied Algowinon. “I think so. Others, Bonded to him, use the channel.”
“But Larken is not Bonded to him,” objected Henkri.
“No,” replied Algowinon, “but his mother fled the Dark One. He did something to her that hurt her mind. The child shared that hurt. The child was
touched by the Dark One’s power.”
The discussion continued late into the evening. It was apparent that, even with his long study, Algowinon had many unanswered questions. It was also apparent that Algowinon would not divulge the full purpose of the Elven Council’s desire for Larken’s presence. Algowinon did reveal that the Elven Council wished Larken to take part in a melding of the Fellowship, but he would not reveal its full purpose. The High Council finally excused Algowinon and continued the debate in his absence.
“Sire, I am suspicious of their intent,” said Jaris, summing up the Warders’ thoughts. “It isn’t clear to me what they think they can accomplish with Sub-commander Larken’s presence, and Algowinon has refused repeatedly to explain it. I fear that they will test Larken in some way that may be dangerous to him, or they may harm him if he were to fail the test. I do not want to put any of my Warders in danger, and I particularly don’t want to risk losing my newest sub-commander.”
“I agree with all your sentiments, Commander,” answered King Andreas. “However, it appears that the Elves know much more about the decrease of Talent than we do. I don’t believe that a childhood myth has come alive to threaten us, but something has definitely happened to decrease Talent. If they think that Sub-commander Larken’s presence can help them, can we take the risk not to send him?”
Henkri turned to Larken. “Well, Warder Larken, you have heard all that we know on the subject. What say you?”
Larken had long since made up his mind. He had again chosen to be silent about the possibility that the Dark One, as Algowinon called him, was his father. That news was too dramatic to share before he was certain of both its truth and its effect on him. Larken assumed from Algowinon’s silence on the matter that he also did not want to reveal Larken’s possible genealogy to the Council. Larken supposed that the Elven Council wished to either determine the veracity of that possibility or else explore the link between the Dark One and Larken in light of the possible kinship. Having knowledge of his possible heritage from the Dark One made the Elven request more sensible to Larken than to the rest of the Council. However, he still was unwilling to share his innermost dread with the Council.