Prelude (The Songs of Aarda Book 1)

by K Schultz

  “I began to realize he was involved with a bad bunch o’ sick fellas. Anyhow, things went downhill. He told me about his friends.”

  Her accent disappeared when she mimicked her former husband’s pronunciation: “These men have powerful friends. They can help us get what we want and make our lives better. Don’t you want more for our son?”

  “He tol’ me this more’n once, so I went along with it hopin’ for the best but fearin’ the worst. No woman wants to believe her man is bad.

  “Afterwards, I realized he was goin’ to the temple late at night. I hoped it would do him some good, and religion might turn him ‘round. I didn’t know it then, but the temple in Narragan is not for worshipin’ the Creator. He took me along with him one night.

  “They was not worshipin’ the Creator like my ma and pa and my granthers. They was doin’ evil things in the dark o’ night. Killin’ and torturin’ animals as blood sacrifices to the Dark Ones. It made me sick, seein’ creatures bein’ treated like that, and it was even worse when the Dark Ones started appearin’ in the middle o’ these ceremonies. They was enough to make a body crawl right out o’ their skin.

  “Then things took a worse turn when he began askin’ me to do things that was just not right. They wanted to use my blood for their offerin’s at the temple. When I refused, my husband beat me, and he tried to make me do worse things than bleedin’.”

  Rehaak nudged Laakea, but Laakea, engrossed in the story, ignored Rehaak.

  “When I couldn’t take no more, I packed up young Eyhan and ran back to my folks. Leastways, I tried to. By the time I was most of the way home, my man and his friends caught up with me on the trail. I figured they would fetch me back to the city or just take Eyhan away from me and leave me alone, but they had other plans.

  “They came with me to the farm where my parents still was livin’. They tied me to a tree near the house and left me there while they dragged my poor Ma and Pa outside.” Isil paused for a moment, and tears rolled down her leathery cheeks.

  Rehaak and Laakea waited for her to resume, although it looked like she might not be able to continue, she rallied and began again.

  “My husband was holdin’ our little one while his friends pulled my folks out o’ the house. I watched him, hopin’ he would put a stop to what was goin’ on. He turned his head to look at me. I can’t rightly explain what I seen in his eyes just then, but there was no hope o’ any rescue in them.

  “I hope to never see nothin’ like that again. That man’s eyes was shinin’ with pure evil wickedness. Then he smiled—it was the smile he give me when we first met, the smile that won my heart, leastways that’s how it looked on the outside. When I seen them eyes and that evil smile, I had to turn away ‘cause I thought I was gonna get sick to my stomach. When I did, I heard my son scream. He was twistin’ Eyhan’s arm to hurt him so’s he would yell and get me lookin’ his way again. By this time, his partners had driven stakes in the ground and tied my parents naked and spread-eagled.”

  She paused again as if to gather strength.

  “You need not go on,” Rehaak murmured. “I think we can see where this is going.”

  “No! I need to tell someone. Besides, this is important. I couldn’t remember it before, but now it’s come back to me, and there is somethin’ you got to understand,” she said.

  “Alright, go on then,” Rehaak said, and Laakea agreed with a nod.

  “Anyway, like I was sayin’, they had my folks staked out on the ground. They started chantin’ some kind o’ ritual, and they danced around wavin’ long knives...” Isil’s voice trailed off.

  “Wait,” Laakea interrupted. “Were the knives like the ones carried by Rehaak’s attackers?”

  “Exactly the same.”

  Rehaak blanched and covered his face with his hands.

  Isil’s Revelation

  “Isil, what was your husband’s name?” Laakea asked.

  “I vowed never to say his name again, but they call him Voerkett.” She spat on the floor after saying the name as if it tasted foul to her.

  “Your husband, Voerkett,” Laakea continued. “He was part of a group of people following the Dark Ones, and these knives are part of their religious ceremonies. Is that right?”

  “Yes. They use them to sacrifice to the Dark Ones. From what my husband tol’ me, anything they kills with them knives gives power to the Dark Ones. When the Dark Ones is strong enough, they’ll take a physical form and walk among men again.

  My husband tol’ me that when this happens, they and their followers is gonna rule Aarda. That’s what him and his friends was after from the beginnin’, and they claimed to be gettin’ closer to it with every sacrifice. They called the Nethera they served Ashd’eravaak. They said when he came with his army, they would take back all the lands from the Eniila and make them pay for what they done to the Abrhaani.”

  She looked at Laakea, waiting for any sign of offense.

  “How many of them are there?” Rehaak asked, ending his silence and breaking into the conversation.

  “I can’t say. This was more’n ten years back and Voerkett,” she spat on the floor again, “he claimed they was gainin’ followers every day. I suspect that the travelin’ we done when we was first together was him settin’ up a network o’ these people.”

  “They have been preparing and planning a war with the Eniila for over ten years!” Laakea said.

  “Oh, it be worse than that, lad. They is tryin’ to wipe out followers o’ the Ol’ Way too, and near as I can tell, you, Rehaak, and the Millers be the only ones left.”

  “What’s the Old Way?” Laakea’s forehead creased.

  “The Old Way is what Isil’s family and their neighbors called believing in and following the Creator, or the Faithful One,” Rehaak explained.

  “How do you know they are trying to destroy the Creator’s followers, Isil?”

  “Because on the day I was tellin’ you about...the day when they skinned my folks alive! The day when they cut my baby’s throat as an offerin’ to Ashd’eravaak while I watched...” Her words tumbled out in a rush, but tears flowed again, and her explanation stalled.

  “I’m sorry, Isil, but if they intended to wipe out the Creator’s followers... I don’t understand, do you?” said Laakea. He looked at Rehaak in the faint hope that his friend would explain it to him.

  He paused while Isil tried to control her emotions, and Rehaak just looked puzzled.

  They sat silent and waited for Isil’s tears to subside so she could complete her explanation, but she howled with grief as an emotional floodgate burst. Her pain poured out in a torrent from the reservoir of her broken heart. It was as if hearing her own story spoken aloud in her own voice for the first time had broken it free, and it swept her along in its powerful current.

  “This is something I don’t understand either, Laakea,” Rehaak said. “If they tried to rid Aarda of all the Creator’s followers...” Rehaak balanced his volume so Laakea could hear him above Isil’s sobbing but not disrupt her grief.

  “I know,” he replied, matching Rehaak’s volume. “Why’d they let her live? If she’s a follower of the Old Way, they should have killed her too.”

  Isil stopped sobbing and looked at the two men leaning toward each other in conversation, her grief overcome by another stronger emotion. She hung her head, and her face flushed under the overall darkness of her complexion. Both men turned to her in response to her sudden silence, realizing she had overheard their discussion.

  “I can answer that for you,” she murmured. Her eyes never left the floor in front of her while she spoke. “They made me one of them.”

  “What!” both men blurted, and then fell silent, waiting for an explanation.

  Isil raised her head. Her eyes blazed. “I’m tellin’ you plain as I can, I swore a Blood Oath what made me a follower of Ashd’eravaak.”

  Aelfric’s Dream

  Aelfric had waited throughout the spring rain and the summer heat, lighting a l
amp in the window every night while he prayed for Laakea’s return. When the days shortened as fall approached, he abandoned hope. He drove the sheep from the pen and packed his belongings and supplies.

  Five days later he reached the sheltered cove with its rocky beach. Memories had drawn him back to his landing spot, where he first felt Khel Braah’s earth beneath him. Aelfric looked along the stone strewn shoreline, his recollections as vivid as the sun glinting off the water. When dusk arrived, he lit a fire to fend off the chill and rolled up in his blankets to meet Shelhera again in his dreams.

  .

  Shelhera walked through the dream-mist toward Aelfric and took his hand. “You fought the Abrhaani because they trespassed on our lands, my love. The coastal cities have fallen, and the Abrhaani who remain in our land now work in the mines and smelters as our slaves. The massacre at Sethria is not your fault. Your brother Aelrin should have taken control after you came home, but he let the men run wild.”

  Aelfric stroked Shelhera’s hair with a scarred and calloused hand. “I gave my word the Abrhaani could leave in peace once the war ended. Instead, our men raped and pillaged and enslaved the survivors. Now the Council of Barons has demanded a meeting.”

  The mist swirled around Aelfric, and he stood before the council. Lord Arven spoke. “The slaughter was not your fault, but it was your responsibility. You should never have abandoned your command during the battle for Sethria. Instead, you ran to your woman’s bedside while she whelped your stillborn child.

  “The city and the captives belong to us as spoils of war. Your offer of clemency to the Abrhaani survivors betrayed our people. It enraged our men, who then ran amok and killed many Ahbraani who we could have sold as slaves. Your sympathies for the Abrhaani and your obsession with the fletcher’s daughter has made you soft.

  “To prove your loyalty and restore our faith in your leadership, you must give up Shelhera and marry one of our girls. Eskel, Broder, and I all have daughters of marriageable ages who can bear plenty of healthy sons. You have a tenday to divorce the fletcher’s daughter and choose a more suitable wife.”

  Aelfric glared at Aelrin. “Brother, is this how you let them treat me after my years of leadership?” Aelrin turned away and whispered to Arven. Arven shook his head.

  Aelfric said, “I gave my word to the Abrhaani, and my honor demands I keep my vow despite your decree. Although you don’t yet see it, the practice of slavery weakens us. Someday you will regret taking Abrhaani survivors as slaves. Aelrin, my brother, what have they promised so you would agree with them? You shamed yourself and our people when you lost control of the men in Sethria.”

  Eskel raised his three-fingered hand and pointed at Aelfric. “Submit to the decree or face the consequences.”

  The council chamber faded from view, and Shelhera appeared in its place. Aelfric wrapped her in his arms. “I do not trust the council or my brother. Unless I bow to their wishes, I fear they will kill you, although it will appear accidental.”

  “What else can we do, beloved?”

  “I could join the Brotherhood.”

  Shelhera laughed. “Beloved, you would make a terrible monk. You are too proud of your golden locks to shave your head or trade your armor for the Brotherhood’s white robes. You could give in to their demands and marry one of those girls. I love you, but I understand. What’s best for our people and for you matters more than your feelings or mine. No one else can lead our people as well as you can.”

  Aelfric glared at her and shook his head.

  With a wink and a sly grin, Shelhera added, “Besides, I hear they are all quite lovely.”

  “Never!” Aelfric slashed the air with his hand like a swordsman fending off a blow. “Stop talking nonsense. Our people lived well enough without my leadership, and I care nothing for any of those women. There is another option. I will go to Khel Braah; perhaps I can make amends to the Abrhaani there.”

  “If you do this, I will come with you. We can make a life together on Khel Braah away from Baradon’s intrigues and jealousies.”

  The dream shifted, again and Aelfric stood with Shelhera on the dock at Camikola bargaining with the Abrhaani ship’s captain for their passage. “No one else, just my wife and me,” Aelfric said with his moneybag in hand.

  “My ship is full of my people leaving Baradon. There’s no room to spare for two Whites who wants to take a pleasure cruise.” The plump Abrhaani’s lip curled.

  Aelfric shook the heavy purse in his hand. The gold inside clinked, and the captain’s eyes widened. “And how much are they paying you for passage to Khel Braah? How much more do you need to make room for us?”

  With a lighter purse, they boarded the craft and sailed into the fog-shrouded waters.

  The fog cleared, and Shelhera, gaunt and pale from seasickness, sat in the skiff’s prow as it bobbed toward the coast of Khel Braah with their goods piled high in the stern. “Almost there, my love. Almost free to live as we see fit.”

  When the boat neared land and its keel scraped on the gravel, Shelhera jumped out of the boat into the water. She laughed, relief written plain on her face, when her feet touched the rocky bottom. She stood in the knee-high surf, free of the heaving ocean, with solid land beneath her again.

  The beach faded, and the forest surrounded him as he walked to their campsite.

  Shelhera stooped to exit the tent as he approached.

  “I found jarnbrák in the bog nearby. Praise the gods for iron to refine, wood for charcoal, and the nearby stream. With my blacksmithing talent and your farming skill, we can make a good life, and when children come, we’ll build a legacy for our youngsters.”

  Then the shadow fell. Shelhera screamed and burst into flame, and Aelfric shot out of his bedroll, trembling.

  “No, not again!” he shouted to the brightening sky. I can’t lose you again.” He pulled his dagger and set it to his throat. Blood trickled along the razor-sharp edge.

  Abused

  “I’m sorry, Isil. I do not understand how you could be—”

  “The oath! They made me forswear the Old Way and swear allegiance to Ashd’eravaak. A Blood Oath.” She lowered her eyes again, slumped, and spoke into her own chest.

  “How did they compel you to swear an oath?”

  “By tellin’ me they was gonna murder my baby if I didn’t do what they said.”

  “Didn’t you just tell us they cut his throat while they forced you to watch?”

  “They made me swear the oath first. Voerkett told me that great power demands great sacrifices, and we should be willin’ to offer the greatest sacrifice, the life o’ our son. So Voerkett killed Eyhan himself, right there...right in front of me. He drained the life out of our baby and laughed at me the whole time he done it,” she snarled.

  Rehaak and Laakea exchanged glances before she began again.

  “Ashd’eravaak came, an ugly black shadow he was, and touched me...touched my face just for a moment. He...drained life out o’ me, and I thought he had stole my soul. The men cut me loose then and said they had another use for me, a use that would seal my covenant with Ashd’eravaak.

  “They took turns ruttin’ on me, and I let them ‘cause I didn’t care about nothin’ anymore. It was like my soul had withered away inside me, and I was just an empty husk. When I saw my face once I got home, I was no longer young or pretty, but like you sees me now.”

  “It is impolite to ask a lady her age,” Rehaak began with trepidation, “but how old are you?”

  “It’s a fair question, I suppose. I seen thirty-seven summers.”

  “Isil’s not much older than you, Rehaak!” Laakea said.

  “Ashd’eravaak did it when he stole my youth and my beauty, and then those men stole my innocence. That leaves me with you and the lad, tryin’ to make amends for what I done.”

  “I don’t understand why you must make amends for anything. You were a victim, not...” Laakea struggled to find the words.

  “Yes.” Rehaak jumped into the silence.
“You made your oath under duress, and they violated the terms of the oath when they killed your son. Such an oath is not binding.”

  “But still and all, I submitted to their vile uses, and I be unclean. I didn’t resist,” Isil said, looking at the floor again. “I’ll never feel clean again, but at least I’m free o’ their power now.”

  “You never had a choice, Isil. They raped you.” Laakea rose from his seat, walked over to the older woman, and knelt beside her. He wrapped his arms around her while Rehaak watched without comment. Rehaak had never seen Laakea offer physical comfort before. He waited a moment before joining the youngster in embracing Isil. Before long, all three of them were weeping together for her loss. Isil had emboldened them both to share their frailty and failings with each other because of her honest confession.

  “There’s just one more thing. I thought there weren’t none o’ the Faithful One’s followers left until I met you, Rehaak. I cried when you sang your song o’ thanksgiving over that first meal we shared, because...that day somethin’ in my heart broke free. I begun rememberin’ all the stuff I forgot. Not just the bad stuff I done told you ‘bout, but good things too. Things my folks told me ‘bout the Creator. It was like I came alive again after bein’ dead so many years. That be the real reason I’s here to join you. I be alive again, and I wants to make it right with the Creator.”

  Rehaak looked at Isil as they held her in their embrace. She gazed into his eyes with tears streaming down her face.

  “I’m free, and you was the one what done it for me with your song, so they got no more power over me. I got my soul back, but they wants power over all of Khel Braah. Ashd’eravaak can’t rule Aarda until all of us is dead, or we is worshipin’ the Dark Ones. They can’t carry out their plans as long as there is followers of the Creator.”

  “Do you know how we prevent them from taking over Aarda?” Rehaak asked when he and Laakea released her from their embrace.