by Luna Lais
"Thanks," Eranen said calmly. "How did you know?"
"There are seven horses outside," Darien answered. "So the prophecy has been fulfilled," he said looking around at the bodies on the ground.
Yes," Eranen rose and nodded in reply. "Now the path to what ever destiny the Gods have set upon us has begun."
Darien was not sure why, but his thoughts drifted to his family at that moment and he was suddenly concerned for their well being. Already the first light of dawn was in the sky. It was time for him to return home. "Let us clean this mess up."
"What should we do with the horses?" Eranen asked Darien a few hours later as he threw the last of the bodies on the fire they had built behind the barn.
"It is a rare man who ever knows the worth of his life," Darien said looking at the seven spectacular black stallions. "Your life is valued at seven black stallions. I suppose you should keep what you need and sell the rest if you want." Darien was busy loading his packs on Nog for his return journey. "You should be able to finish you house, library included with the money they bring. They are fine animals."
Eranen looked over the seven black stallions tied a short distance from the barn. "They are worth a king's ransom at least. In all fairness half belongs to you. You did kill an equal number of the attackers." Eranen looked at Darien. He had not looked well every since their battle that morning. He was distracted by something and was in a definite hurry to leave.
"I have no need for the money and still I feel as if I did not truly save your life. Your dagger was in the man as well as my sword." Darien said tightening his saddle on Nog.
"Do you return to Calandoria, then?" Eranen asked.
"Yes, to Rorgrim." Darien turned his eyes to stare down the road. After a few moments he turned his eyes to Eranen. "I must leave you now Eranen Palek. If ever you find that you are in need seek the House of Raven my friend."
"Thank you and the same to you and yours. I am just a simple farmer, but if there is ever anything I can do for you. My debt to you is great," Eranen said smiling at Darien. They briefly clasp hands in understanding. After the exchange Darien mounted Nog and looked down at Eranen. "You are much more than a simple farmer Eranen Palek or the Gods would not involve you in their plans. Until we meet again my friend," Darien said as he urged Nog forward at a rapid pace. At last he was heading home.
Chapter 8
Three days later as Darien was breaking camp on his journey home from Eranen's farm and he was smiling. He was making remarkable time. He was half a day's ride from where he had met Horace. If the weather stayed fair he would be home in a week's time. His journey this far had been uneventful and he preferred that. He was not looking for more adventure. All he wanted now was to see for himself, that his family was safe.
As he readied Nog for the day's ride he noticed a lone figure coming down the road. The traveler was still to far off to recognize, but Darien was not interested in seeing if he knew the individual. He had to admit he was curious about the traveler though. The distance between them was still great, but Darien knew the color of that robe. In the entire world only those belonging to the Order of Colondone wore robes that color. This woman did not walk like a member of the Order he noticed. They took small dainty steps. This woman took long strides and walked with purpose.
Darien could not actually confirm it was a woman that approached him from this distance, but given the stature of the traveler, if it was a male then he could not be of his majority yet.
Darien tore his eyes away from the road. "I am not interested, "he said to Nog. He had delayed his journey long enough. Every time he met someone new on the road he ended up being delayed further. This time for the sake of his family he was going to let the stranger pass without even uttering a "good day" as she went by.
That is what Darien told himself, but it was not in his nature. Now that the woman was closer he could see the tears in her robes and the mud stains. Members of the Order seldom left the Moon's Soul and when they did it was on horse, not on foot, Darien cursed under his breath. His sister belonged to the Order; he could not turn his back on one of them in need. Darien mounted his horse and headed towards the woman.
It occurred to him that she was actually forbidden by the moon to be in his presence alone, so when he was half way to her. He purposely slowed down and slowly walked Nog closer. As he approached the woman stopped and watched him. Not wanting to frighten her he stopped twenty feet away and dismounted. He then shouted, "Good day my Lady are you in need of assistance?"
"Darien," the robed figured replied. He recognized that voice. "Darien," she shouted with relief and ran towards him. As she did the hood of her robe fell back and Darien could make out her features.
"Lissandra!" he caught her in a hug and twirled her around before sitting her in front of him. She had changed much since he had seen her last. Then she had been an awkward teenage girl. Now she was a beautiful woman. Her face was still round and soft. Her eyes had always been such a pale gray they looked almost silver. What caught Darien was the maturity he saw in them. She still had the pert nose and full lips of their mother, but gone where the last remnants of the freckles she had as a child. He had always thought she would grow to be pretty, he had never expected beautiful. She was laughing and smiling down at him as he spun her.
"Darien, praise the Gods I have found you." She said holding him close as he placed her feet back on the ground.
"What is amiss that would cause the Order to send you to find me?" Darien asked with concern. "Is our family well?" He remembered the uneasiness he had felt before leaving Eranen's farm.
"The last I heard from Rorgrim all was well," Lissandra replied. "You mistook my words, brother. I have been traveling alone for the past several days and I must say more than once I have feared for my safety." Lissandra explained. "Of all the travelers to meet on an abandoned road, who better than ones own brother?"
"Where is your horse, Lissandra and why are you traveling?" Darien asked. "Have you mastered the art of the Moon so quickly the Order sends you to fulfill the will of the Moon?"
Lissandra's face fell as he asked his questions. "I have run away from the Order Darien and I am no longer accepted by the Moon." She said flatly.
"But why?" Darien asked knowing there was much she was not saying. The Order seldom discharged a sister and once the ceremony to reject a woman from the Order was complete, she no longer was allowed to wear the robes.
"They were going to kill me and my only chance at surviving was to flee." She looked in his eyes expecting to see anger on her behalf instead she saw doubt.
"Lissandra, I am sure you have blown something out of proportion. If the Order no longer wanted you, you would have had your powers stripped and been expelled, not murdered." Her anger grew with each word out of his mouth. Now was not the time for him to act as if she were still a child and he the all knowing big brother. She was in a bad mood to say the least; his doubt only fueled her temper.
"You do not believe me," she yelled as she pushed herself from him. "Your own sister comes to you and tells you someone is trying to kill her and you just dismiss it!" She was weary from coming so far alone with no provisions and without a horse. Her anger was not just at Darien, but at herself as well. It had been years since they had seen each other last. Both had been changed by their paths, Darien was not the same man as she remembered and she was not the same naïve girl.
"Lissandra, calm down. That is not what I meant at all," he said to ease her tension. He could see raging anger behind her eyes. "I just meant to ask why the Order would want you dead so much that they would risk the wrath of the king."
"The Moon's Soul may lie in Calandoria, brother, but the Order does not consider itself ruled by any man. Only the Moon can rule the Order." Her words came out short and harsh, "They are above mortal kings."
"Perhaps that is true," he agreed knowing well the pressures the Order placed on the kingdom, "but why would they kill you rather than expel you? It does not make an
y sense. What offense could you commit to warrant death?"
"Offense," Lissandra gasped. "I committed no offense. I did everything they ever asked of me without even questioning why." She dropped her head with fear. Her situation was hopeless, even with Darien's help she might never find what she sought. Already the Order would be looking for her. The penalty for leaving the temple without first relinquishing her powers would be death.
"Then why kill you?" Darien asked again feeling as if they were going in circles.
"Why," Lissandra said harshly. "Why" She looked hard at Darien then pointed to a small bush standing just off the road. "This is why," she whispered loud enough to still be heard. The bush Lissandra was pointing at erupted into flames. Darien could only stare speechless at the bush. With a slight wave of her hand Lissandra produced a small gray cloud over the bush and rain began to fall extinguishing the fire.
Once the fire was completely gone the little cloud evaporated into nothing. Darien turned back to Lissandra. "You know the Sun Arts?" he questioned.
"Yes" was her only response. She could not explain further because she did not understand herself.
"How is this possible? Have you lost your ability to use the Art of the Moon?" Darien asked.
"Did you not see the rain put the fire out, brother?" She turned away from him. "I can control both Arts."
Darien looked at his sister, she no longer looked angry, she looked scared. "If you are in danger Lissandra why are you not heading to Rorgrim where you will be safe?" he asked. Darien knew her situation was dire, but surely Jimreth could see her safe against the Order.
"I must go south. I seek a book, a special book." She pulled the book she had taken with her from the temple from her robe and held it in her arms. "The book I am searching for lies in the South with a wise man." She gasped as Darien spun her around and met her eyes.
"Why would you say that?" He asked her.
"Say what?" she asked startled by his reaction to her words. "I only say what I have read from this," she said holding the book out for him to see.
"Why would you use the word wise man?" he asked again, "Why those exact words?"
"Prophecy chose those words not me, brother. I found this in the Glory of the Moon." She handed the book to Darien. "I take my instructions from it." She placed her own hand over the book pressing it into his hands when it seemed he would not take it from her.
"There will be a wise man in the South who holds the volume to reveal the reasons for my abilities. I will be safe only with this man until the harvest is reaped from the fields."
"Safe," Darien whispered to himself. He held the book up and examined it. It had no markings on the plain brown cover. It looked old and well worn, but not like a book of any importance.
"I must continue south until I find this man. My life is only safe in his presence."
Darien sighed handed the book back to her; "The Gods are laughing at me." He said looking at her and smiling. "Every time I am within a week's ride from home, prophecy turns me south. Come Lissandra," he said mounting his horse and holding his hand out for her. "I know the man you seek and he owes me a favor."
"Really" she exclaimed. "You really know the man I speak of?" She could hardly believe what he was telling her.
"Yes," Darien replied. "I never thought to see him again so soon." Darien added as he once again turned Nog south and began the journey back to Eranen's farm.
"The riders have returned," Abby said entering the Mother's sanctuary within of the Temple of the Moon's Soul. She sat at the wooden table in the chamber joining her sisters who were already sitting around it. The table and surrounding chairs were the only furnishings in the stone room. There were no windows and only one door in the chamber. The conversations held within were for no ones ears, but their own. "They can find no trace of her in the country side or in the royal city."
"We must double our efforts or we are doomed" cried Norah.
"Calm down ladies," Claudette spoke quietly from the head of the table. "We know she is heading to Rorgrim, where else would she go? She will try to hide behind her brother's crown, but she will discover the Moon does not bow before any mortal regardless of the title he places on himself."
"What do you suppose our next course of action should be, Claudette?" Norah asked.
Claudette was not the leader of the Moon's Soul; a council of three all sharing equal powers lead the Order and shared in all decisions. They were the elders of the temple, the wisest and oldest among them. Despite the sharing of powers, the others that made up the council, Abby and Norah often looked to Claudette for guidance. She was the Holy Mother having been a master of the Moon Arts longer than any of the other two women who served on the council.
"The time has come for us to travel to Rorgrim." Claudette said. "If the House of Raven will not listen to our heeds and deliver the abomination to us then the people themselves will force their hand. We must listen to the words of the Acumen. The girl must die or the Raven's can not be allowed to continue their rule. One or the other the choice will be cast to them." Claudette stood. She knew the Orders future was uncertain. It was for that reason she had begin to plot against the Ronans even before Lissandra's new powers had been revealed. "Why else have we sought the favor of the Moon on the people's behalf and allowed them to enter our temple seeking blessings if not to have them defend the Moon's Soul in the face adversity?" Claudette started for the door of the room. "Sleep well sisters we ride at first light."
Abby and Norah watched in silence as Claudette left the room. Both knew what the Acumen had said, both also knew that eliminating the House of Raven was easier said than done. King Jimreth was dead, but the youngest male Makren had returned. While it was rumored Darien had died in the war for Pearoandorn they could not be certain. Death seemed the most likely reason for delaying his return home from a war that ended two years ago, but perhaps not the only reason. Regardless, in the end they would still have to find Lissandra and kill her as well. Better to find her before she had time to fulfill her prophecy. It would be easier to eliminate just the one.
Chapter 9
"Rachel," Makren called to her form the entrance of her chamber. They had buried their brother three days earlier. To her and everyone else it appeared that Jimreth had ended his own life, but not to Makren. He refused to believe it possible. He had questioned her for hours trying to determine the precise time Jimreth had died. Over and over she had retold him the events of the last day she had seen Jimreth. She was numb from the events of the last month and in no mood to relive that day again. He had not been around for twelve years. Why could he not believe Jimreth had taken his own life and let it be over? Relieving the tragedies over and over again was wearing on her soul. How much more could she bear? "Go away, Makren." She sat in a large stuffed chair by the fire reading a book of poems Jimreth had given her last year for her birthday. How she wished she could lock the world out for a little while and just read. She had always loved reading, it was her escape. She could do anything or be anyone in a book.
"Sorry" he said as he entered the room, "I wish I could give you a moment to yourself, but matters of the kingdom must take precedence over our own needs."
She looked up at him. His appearance had improved much since he returned. He now dressed as a prince instead of a beggar. He had the tailor at the castle fit him for new clothes, even while he questioned witnesses to the events that led to Jimreth's death. Now he was wearing a dark black tunic and pants with freshly polished boots. A sword was belted around his waist, a sharp contrast from the white lace that adorned the cuffs of his shirt. He still wore the two long braids in his hair, but the rest had been neatly trimmed. She had thought he would have cut the braids, but perhaps he needed more time. He had told her some of what had happened to him over the past twelve years. She knew he held parts of it from her, but she did not push him. When he was ready he would tell her everything, if that time never came however she would not complain. The pain she knew that he ha
d endured in his captivity gave her nightmares. That he had endured at all was a testament to his strength and courage.
She was also wearing black; they were in mourning for their family. Looking at his soft gray eyes, she could tell he was just as tired and maybe even more confused as she was. He was dealing not only with the lost of Jimreth, but for their father as well. "Your right," she said somberly, "Duty to Calandoria before ourselves." She had heard her own father and brother say those same words countless times. Only now did she feel the pain that went with them. As the youngest of five children she had always expect someone else to be around to handle the "duty" instead of her.
"The people are demanding a regent to be named to rule until Darien returns. They do not share your belief that he will return before the harvest. Many scarcely believe he still lives after all this time." Makren sat in a chair opposite to Rachel's. "For reasons I can not explain, I can not take on this burden. It must fall to you. I am still a stranger to the people. They will trust you and will follow your rule."