by Robert Beers
* * * *
“I ... am ... holding the last words Labad wrote in his own hand.” The librarian's hand trembled as he held the parchment given him by Milward. “How ... how did you come by such a treasure? All scholars and clerics the world over thought this lost. Lost forever.” He turned his head to look back at the wizard. “How?”
Milward pointed a finger of the hand draped over the top of his staff at Adam. “From him.”
The librarian looked at Adam as if he were seeing a statue that had just come to life. “Him? This ... youth, had possession of the Prophecy of Labad?” The librarian's voice rose in pitch and volume as he went on. “Are you telling me this ... this... sprout was walking around with the most precious, prized treasure of knowledge in the world as casually as ... as ... as if he were carrying a shopping list?”
“Youth? Sprout?” Adam looked to Milward for support.
“Ease up, old friend.” Milward lay a soothing hand onto the librarian's shoulder. “The Dwarves gave it to him and his sister, along with the rest of Labad's legacy. According to the letter, he is one half of the promise.”
The Librarian ‘s eyes bounced back and forth between Milward and Adam. “Letter? What letter?”
“Show him the letter, Adam.” Milward turned back to look at the Book of Vision.
Adam reached into his pouch and pulled out the letter that accompanied the prophecy. “Here, but it could be talking about anybody.” He handed it to the librarian.
The old man placed the parchment containing the prophecy onto the reading desk with extreme care, and then unfolded the letter. He ran his fingers along the swirls of the cursive text as he read.
I write this assuming the dwarves have fulfilled their obligation, yet to be done, to me. I write this also knowing my death is sure, as sure as the breath I take. You are of my kin though you know me not. Nor could you ever, for the mists of centuries separate us and my bones are now dust.
I have watched your lives. They have disturbed my rest for many seasons. I cannot tell you how to walk the paths destiny has set before you for both tragedy and triumph await you. Yet I can, through my faithful dwarves, give you tools to aide your way. I know you will be man and woman ... in time. My sword is the man's, my bow, for the woman. I caution you to obey me in this completely, though your feelings will guide you. Test them, you will see the truth in what I write.
I have provided clothing and coin, as much as I can. May the creator guide your steps within the balance. Let the rule of three be your guide and your victory in the dark days to come. Keep safe the vision I have penned, the wolves and the Winglord will show you its truth.
I am
Labad, Lord of the known lands, Philosopher King.
The librarian set the letter down with a sigh.
Milward leaned on his staff and nodded in sympathy. “It is profound, being witness to history. You'd best retrieve your letter, Adam. That's proof of your legacy.”
Adam leaned across the librarian, collected the letter, refolded it and placed it back into his pouch. “It could be talking about someone else,” he said hopefully.
Milward patted him on the shoulder as he went past. “You just keep telling yourself that, my lad.” He chuckled.
Adam saw Felsten looking at him with huge eyes. “Well, it could.”
The librarian turned and bowed his head at Adam. “Forgive me, your majesty, for calling you a youth and a sprout. They were merely expressions of surprise and anger.”
“I am not your majesty! I'm not your ... anything. I ... don't know what I am, but I sure don't feel like anyone's Emperor.”
“You're not.” Milward snorted. “At least, not yet.”
The old Wizard held up a hand to forestall Adam's protest. “I think now is a good time to look at the prophecy. Tell me, old man, do you want to read what Labad really said? Are you open for a little compare and contrast?”
The librarian's eyes lit up like a new bride's. “Here, let me lay the two next to each other. Felsten!”
“Here, master.” Felsten stepped out from behind Milward.
“Oh, there you are. Where've you been hiding? Hold this flat for me. Careful, now, it's the real thing. Legend has it, Labad himself wrote it using his dagger and his own blood.” The librarian ignored Felsten's grimace.
“Ok, old friend. Here is where the past comes back to life. You are right, by the way.” Milward said in an aside. “Those symbols are Labad's blood. The dragons confirmed it.”
The librarian looked a bit more closely at Labad's prophecy. “Indeed. Yes, you can see where it clotted within the fibers of the parchment. Hmmm, Yes, it reads as so;
"The two shall come from the outside, through Emerald and Dragon Fire they come. Sword and bow will be their sign. Unequaled in prowess though light in years. Brother and sister from another world, born of the blood of Labad.
“Destiny will push them and terror will stalk them but yet they prevail.
War will divide them when friends fight to the death. One to the North and one to the South.
Emperor's champion becomes the bow and the sword becomes King.
Through his power the destroyer is born, through his power only will it die.
Friend of wolf and dragon, master of steel. Through these you will know him.
Guide to Elven Chance, master of warriors, Earl's doom. Through these shall you know her.
The wise will feel the growth of power and know the time is here.
Without guidance the Two shall fail and fall into great tribulation, but guidance sometimes comes in strange guise.
Son will kill father but pay the price of pride's severing.
Creation will hang in the balance when the shadow comes. Only the promised ones may prevent its destruction.
All this I have seen. All this I have written. Labad, Philosopher King, Lord of the Western Lands."
The librarian straightened and rubbed his chin. “There are differences. Major differences. They change the entire tone of the prophecy.”
“Oh?” Milward leaned over the reading desk with a smile. “Where?”
“Here, for one.” The old man traced a line underneath the symbol for prevail in Labad's prophecy. “In my copy it's translated as persevere, and...”
The Librarian looked at Milward with a wry expression. “You knew about this already, didn't you? This is the reason for those pointed questions of yours earlier, isn't it? You've already read the prophecy and compared it to other copies.”
“You have me at the point, old friend. Yes, I've already committed the true prophecy to memory, as well as compared it to the copy held by the clerics in Ulsta. Your copy is an exact duplicate of theirs.”
Felsten moved over to stand next to Adam. “They're gonna be at this for hours, your majesty.”
Adam hissed in a fierce whisper. “Don't call me that!”
“But ... the letter. The prophecy.”
“We don't know for certain they mean me ... or my sister. I'm not going to step into boots that big unless there's no other choice.” Adam looked away from Felsten to where Milward and the librarian huddled over the prophecy and its copy.
“I'd always wondered why Aunt and Uncle knew so much, but lived like the poorest of peasants. I'm starting to understand why,” Adam mused to himself.
“What was that, Milord?” Felsten asked.
Adam turned back with his mouth open to admonish the apprentice, but stopped before uttering it. “I guess Milord will have to do. It's probably too much to expect just plain Adam out of you.”
Felsten nodded. “I just wouldn't feel right about it, Milord.” He smiled. “I've got a drop of good ale on tap, and a bit of stew on the simmer, if you'd care to join me.”
Adam's stomach growled.
Felsten smiled at the sound. “Shall I take that as a yes, Milord?”
The old woman set a steaming bowl of stew along with a small loaf of dark bread in front of Adam. She favored Felsten with a small smile from the side
of her mouth. “You kin git yer own, sprout.”
Felsten rose from the plank top table in the kitchen and went about the business of dishing himself a helping of bread and stew.
Adam tore a chunk of bread off of the loaf and dipped it into the stew. He looked at the old woman over the dripping piece of bread. “Aren't you going to join us?”
The old woman started from her watching Felsten in his task. “Wha...? Who, me sit with a Lord at table? Naw, I think not, Milord. I'd be so nervous I'd git no food down me throat. It'd land in me lap, most likely. No thank'ee, Milord. I'll be happier at me own place an’ in me own place, iffn ye catch me meanin'.”
Adam took a bite of the bread and stew mixture. It was thick and tasty with a peppery accent. He nodded in understanding of the old woman's feelings. “Yes, I believe I do catch your meaning. I won't insist on something that would make you uncomfortable. By all means, do what you think best.”
“Thank'ee, Milord. I'm much obliged.” She bowed away, walking backwards for a few steps.
Felsten took his place across from Adam at the table just as Adam tore another chunk off the bread with a bit more vigor than was necessary. “What's wrong, Milord? Is the stew not to your liking?”
Adam dipped the bread into the stew. “No, that's not it.”
“Was it Lisbeth? Did she say something to insult you? I'm so sorry, Milord. She's old and set in her ways. She meant nothing by it. I'll...”
Adam stopped Felsten's tirade of worry by stuffing a piece of bread into the boy's mouth. “Here. Eat, don't talk. The only thing that's bothering me is all this, ‘yes, Milord', ‘no, Milord', ‘if you please, Milord'. Don't you people realize that all this makes me more than a little uneasy?
“I was raised poor, along with my twin sister, Charity. The only titles we ever heard were those that the other kids of the village made up to insult us. We bloodied a few noses along the way, until they learned to treat us with at least a grudging respect.
“Please try to understand, Felsten. This sword, as much as I find it useful, scares the bowels right out of me. It's very strong evidence, this,” he waved in the air with his left hand, “...prophesy may be what Milward says it is. I'm not prepared for that to be true right now. Not at all.
“None of this would be happening at all if we hadn't gone out to that creek.”
Felsten thought it wise to not ask about this creek. If the new emperor wanted to be treated ... well, unemperor-like, it certainly wasn't his place to say otherwise.
He finished chewing the bread Adam had stuffed into his mouth, and swallowed. “What would you have me do...” He halted before saying the word Milord.
Adam dipped his bread again, smiling a little at the apparent swallowed word. “That's a good start.”
He bit into the bread, chewing and swallowing before speaking again. “I'd like to know about some stuff, but I'd also prefer to hear it from someone closer to my age. You look like you'd fit that description better than the librarian or Lisbeth.
“You could also get that drop of good Ale you promised me.”
Felsten jumped to his feet. “Oh! Oh, forgive me, Milord. I forgot. I forgot. I'll get it right now. Oh, I'm such a gnomic.”
Adam smiled wryly to himself as Felsten rushed from the kitchen. It was going to take a lot of work, but he'd get the boy to treat him less formally, so help him, he would.
Felsten returned with two foaming tankards and set them onto the table between them. He waited for Adam to choose which one to take and then picked up the one remaining.
He drank deeply and set the tankard back down, sighing and smacking his lips. “Ahhhh. That's a fine one, that is. Now, what questions do you want to be askin’ me, Milord?”
Inwardly, Adam sighed. It looked like the best he was going to get. At least the boy wasn't groveling and kissing his hand.
He sipped some of the ale. Felsten was right. It was good. Medium bodied with a nutty sweetness. “There are some questions. The first one is about something that Labad put into the note he wrote to my sister and me. The Dragons and the wolves also talked about it.”
Felsten's eyes widened at Adam's casual reference to speaking with dragons and wolves.
Adam continued. “Labad said, Let the Rule of Three be your guide and your victory in the dark days to come. I know what the Dragons and wolves had to say about it, but I haven't heard a single person say a thing. Not even that priest in Silgert.”
“You talk to Dragons and wolves?”
Adam shrugged. “I didn't have much choice. Milward took me to see them. Before he introduced me to the wolves, he performed a shaping, that's magik, that allowed me to speak with them. It gave me a headache. A bad headache, along with some other delightful symptoms.”
“But you talked to Dragons and wolves.”
Adam hid his smile behind another sip of the ale. “Let's try to get past that, ok? What can you tell me about this Rule of Three?”
Felsten scratched the back of his head. “Don't know much, Milord. Not being a cleric an’ all.”
“Just tell me what you know of it,” Adam pressed.
“I'll try, Milord.” Felsten wet his throat. “Best as I recall the Rule of Three, from the church teachin's I heard, talks about the way of Bardoc, the way of man an’ the way of nature an’ how they all fit together.”
“Go on.” Adam sipped some more Ale after taking another bite of bread and stew.
“Don't know much more ‘bout it, milord.” Felsten said apologetically. “I heard some talk about how man needs to see Bardoc movin’ in the clouds an’ the rain an’ the sun an’ all. Most, it seemed to be a lot of common sense mixed into religious talk.”
“How so?” Adam finished his helping of stew. He wondered if there was any more.
Felsten was becoming comfortable talking with this young Lord, despite the fact he may be the rightful Emperor. “Well ... it makes sense, don't it, Milord? I mean ... Bardoc makes the world an’ man an’ nature an all ... I mean, it kinda fits together, don't it? I mean, you don't see your wolves thievin’ from the bears. Do you? An you sure don't have no chickens or foxes fightin’ no wars gainst each other, do you? Seems common enough sense to me. Kinda why I like being apprentice in this place. Ain't no wars nor thievin’ going on.”
Adam figured Felsten was pretty close to the mark in his estimation of the basis for the teaching, but what Labad meant in his letter could something entirely different.
He drained the last of his ale and stood up. “I suppose Milward and your master are going to be at it until dawn.”
Felsten grinned. “You got that right, Milord. He loves it when he gets a chance to argue over the old writings. Come with me. I'll show you where you can doss down for the night.”
“Thanks.” Adam separated himself from the table's bench. “Would you know of any books or parchments on Labad? If he's my ancestor, I should probably get to know more about him.”
“Should be one or two lyin’ around here, Milord.” Felsten laughed. “I mean, this is a library.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
“I can see the city walls.” Thaylli called out from her perch high upon Drinaugh's neck.
“Well, I certainly hope the people inside those walls will be more interested in talking than the ones we've come across so far,” Drinaugh grumped. You'd think they'd never heard of Dragons before; and he wasn't even fully grown. What would they have done if Mashglach settled down amongst them?
At the approach of the young Dragon and his wolf pack, the highway cleared of traffic as if swept by a giant broom. They passed abandoned carts and stalls. Many of then tipped with their goods scattered across the verge alongside the highway.
“The pack is nervous.” The Alpha wolf came up alongside the Dragon's right flank. “It is good your presence keeps the two legs away.”
Drinaugh looked at the wolf. “Yes, I suppose so, but how are we going to find my friend, your packmate, in all of that,” He pointed at the distant city. “I
f we can't ask questions?”
“The way the wolves have always known,” the wolf replied. “The way of the hunt, the scent of the prey, the path of blood. Our noses will tell us if he is there in the pack of the two legs.”
“What are you talking about?” Thaylli called down. “I can't understand all that growling and barking.”
Drinaugh cocked an eye upward at the young woman on his neck. “The wolves say they can find Adam by using their noses.”
“Well, tell them to start looking. I mean, sniffing.” Thaylli patted the soft hide beneath her.
“You don't tell wolves to do anything.” Drinaugh admonished gently. “You ask, and hope they're willing. If not, you just do it yourself.”
“Oh.” Thaylli's reply was contrite. “Will they please try to find Adam? I really miss him a lot.”
Drinaugh did so.
“Tell the female we will find her mate,” the Alpha Wolf's mate growled. One of the pack members, a female with husky-like markings ran ahead along the highway, and soon vanished in the distance.
A merchant caravan approached the group from the south until Drinaugh turned his head to see the source of what his sensitive dragon hearing picked up. The oxen pulling the lead wagon caught a whiff of the combined scent of wolf and dragon, and refused to take one step further. The wagon driver snapped the reins a few times, and then looked up to see the dragon towering over the wolf pack.
“They're backing up,” Drinaugh said, disappointment shadowing his voice.
“They're afraid. They've never seen a dragon before.” Thaylli watched the frantic efforts of the wagon drivers as they tried to get their teams off the road and turned around.
“But I thought everyone knew about dragons. Everyone.” Drinaugh wailed plaintively.
“I didn't.” Thaylli reminded him. “But I do now and I'm glad.” She hugged the back of the young dragon's neck.
“Thank you,” Drinaugh murmured.
“Our packmate returns,” the Alpha Wolf stated. A gray shape appeared out of the haze between the city walls and where they stood.
Thaylli leaned out from her seat between Drinaugh's neck ridges to watch the wolf approach. The female came in at a dead run, and slowed only a few paces from the rest of the pack. She sat before the Alpha Wolf, her tongue lolling as she panted.