By Efrona Mor
Copyright by Efrona Mor 2011
Prologue
Chaps
The Century of Kings 1194
He was magnificent as he raced through the thick of the forest. The large Shadow demon was covered in blood. He had fled his realm high in the sky, killing a dozen demons following him to Red Isle’s King’s Forest in the human lands, yet his strength did not wane. He was royal, and few rivaled his power or cunning. He peered around the trees and motioned to Arya there was another following them. She was his companion and was covered in as much blood as he, but she held a precious bundle in her arms they protected.
The forest was dense with tall trees, and she motioned to stop. He nodded and once she stopped her body ceased. She limped towards a red tree burrow, pointing to hide. He knew she could go no further. He looked at her leather breastplate, cut in two places, pauldrons barely hanging on, and a gash down the side of her face. His eyes spoke grateful words to her with a quick glance. He removed her quarterstaff from her back and handed it to her. “Do not move. Thou fought well.” He dragged a dead branch over the burrow as she sunk inside, gripping the staff with her right hand and the bundle in her left. Her eyes were bloodshot from the journey, and her body weak as she exhaled, relieved to be in the burrow. “It will be well,” he whispered. She nodded, and he vanished.
Crystals were weaved through his black braids down to his waist. They caught the sun cascading through the trees as he moved swiftly through the forest floor, leading the pursuer away from the burrow. Hills spread out before him, rich and full, its beauty of spring even in this moment impressed him. He moved without sound, now waiting.
“Thou doth die this day, Royal Shadow Domis,” whispered the demon pursuing him in a hissing tone.
Domis saw him. “An immoral named Gillis.” None were stronger or more powerful lest a king demon. “Would thou choose my grave marker, Gillis?”
“Turn over Arya and live.” Gillis looked cautiously around him, nervous, not sure where Domis was.
Domis leaped from the tree facing him. “I would spare thy life in return for silence, but a traitor such as thee deserves death.” Domis stood in fine royal armor, black leather gilded in silver layered over his shoulder pauldrons down his arms in an intricate design. Siberal’s sigil of an albino dragon on each side of a purple shield glistened on his steel breastplate between spatters of dried blood, now dark and hard. His tall boots with shinny greaves were caked in mud.
Both unsheathed their double-edged swords, holding them vertically at each other. The sun appeared to touch the blades in flickering light. Slowly the tips touched as the two glared at each other. The sharp edges slid forward and back. They both yelled, and pounding steel hit edge on edge. When Domis angled the edge of his sword over the top of Gillis, he quickly slid it down to the hilt with great strength. The steel hissed in a satisfying ring. He pressed downward, lowering the immoral’s sword to his waist, gritting his teeth, then thrust upward with his jeweled pommel into Gillis’s face. The thrust was so hard it crushed his lower jaw, knockings his head backward. The immoral winced in deep growl of pain, spitting blood, and Domis swiftly in a downward pull, sliced Gillis’s breastplate while he wailed in pain. It cut through the steel in one long slash as if cutting tapestry.
Gillis stumbled. “Die! You die slow,” the immoral yelled, finding his feet. His mouth bled profusely. Lunging towards Domis in an overhead slash, he pulled a blade from his war belt as Domis raised his sword, leaving this torso open, but Domis twisted out of reach. Their swords crossed, hissing and hitting blade on blade over and over until Gillis slid in towards Domis and sliced his thigh open and rose as he pulled the blade through his leg guard and into his flesh. Domis winced and stepped inward with the weight of his body, swinging his swords with full shoulder strength, slicing Gillis below the ribcage.
“They shall find thee, Domis!” He held his side. Blood gushed as he stumbled against a tree.
Domis swung his sword in a circle from the ground over his head and thrust it into Gillis’s heart, twisting. “May the light of the Ancients find peace in thy death!” He pulled his sword out and the immoral crumpled to the ground. He lay facedown deep in the leaves, and Domis placed his foot over Gillis’s back, bowing his head. “All death shall be mourned!” After a long minute, he leaped back into the forest, finding Arya. She came out of the burrow, leaping into his arms, and he held her gently. “We must find the king.”
She frowned, knowing what it meant. “I shall do as we agreed, but I shan’t smile doing it.” She pulled a cloth from her belt and wrapped his leg.
“A smile shall rise, knowing our people shan’t survive if we fail.” She shook her head, and he grabbed her. “Siberal will hunt me if I live. They shall capture me eventually and use our knowledge against our people… and the king will kill me if I do not kill myself. I have no options.”
She picked up the bundle.” How do you know where to find the king?”
“I have watched him wonder near here often. We shall find him. We have food for several days if needed.” He leaned his head on hers, and she smiled, but scaresly felt it. “Yea, a smile.”
“What if the king rejects me?”
“We know he shan’t, Arya. How could he? Come now. No more said.”
They searched the forest after having something to eat, and the late sun was overhead when Arya pointed. “Domis, someone hums.”
He reached for the bundle, and it squirmed in his arms. “Shusss,” he smiled. “Follow behind me unseen until I speak with the king. When he accepts my offering and is bound to it, only then shall thou show thy face.” She could not muster a smile. “Every demon the king encounters tries to snuff his life. He shall think the same of me and kill me, Arya, out of pure habit… the vow I offer him he must take. It shall secures thee and,” he looked at the bundle, “and this one.
He held the white bundle in his arm as he followed the humming, and nothing would deter him. Bending down, he examined tracks, knowing he was close. He had been to King’s Forest many times over the last moons and knew the trees. When he saw King Odo, he stood up quickly and walked toward him without fear.
Odo was as tall as the demon, and he looked him straight in the eyes. His black wavy hair showed no grey in his young age of twenty-four cycles, but his expression showed age. He reached for his kingsword with no tolerance for a demon. Especially this day, his coronation. He clinched the opal hilt of his kingsword but hesitated, seeing the large warrior carried an infant demon, called a pup, in his arm, swaddled in white, smeared with blood. Fine royal armor with Siberal’s sigil. Odo’s first thoughts were chaos. “Who are you?!”
Remaining at a distance, Domis stared at Odo like an unmoved tree as the pup cooed softly. The Shadow laid the pup in the thick leaves covering the ground and stood in absolute strength. He removed his war belt laden with weapons, his scabbard, and dirks lining his tall leather boots, throwing them aside. Odo watched curiously as the demon revealed the last two weapons. The first was a tiny dirk he used to jab himself through his collar bone without flinching, leaving it there to prevent his body from returning to Siberal. Royal demons and youth were gifted with the power to transport themselves and what they wore or held back to their birth realms upon death, lest he pierces this bone precisely.
He does not want his body returned to Siberal. Why? thought Odo, anticipating something odd to happen. “Why are you silent?”
The demon then pulled the second and last weapon, a short sword that he drew over the inside of his left wrist, cutting deep. Blood flowed down his hand, dripping onto the detritus of the forest floor as Odo stood in amazement.
He is ending his life! “Who are you?”
The Shadow then picked up the pup and pulled him close to his chest. His eyes brimmed as a father’s would for the pup as he slowly moved closer to Odo through the thick leaves crunching under his feet. When he was about three arms-length away, he fell to his knees and said in his deep, bright clear voice, “I lay my weapons aside and offer my blood to claim the Ancients Code of Life.”
Odo could not have been more surprised. His hands fell to his side. He was breathless, glancing over at the weapons half-buried in the leaves and to the pup. It was a code amongst the Seven Realms that if a warrior offered his life to save the innocent, his enemy would grant life to another of his choosing.
When Odo did not answer, the Shadow looked up at him from on his knees, bleeding to his death. He held up the pup and spoke again. “I Domis Barathir Royal Shadow of Siberal, doth forfeit my life and ask life be given.”
Odo continued unmoved. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, thinking. Usually, the Code of Life was performed during a battle between two realms. However, he was not at war with the Shadow, regardless that the demon Realm Siberal was his enemy. Siberal had separated from the Seven Realms a millennium past, and all demons were to be killed upon sight. “You are in the human lands and request the impossible, Domis Barathir!” replied Odo as he approached cautiously and pulled a flask from his belt. He bent down, still suspicious, looking around.
“My war belt…” whispered the demon. “… scrolls for the pup.” Odo looked over at the belt again and back to the demon as he opened the flask. He held it to the demon’s mouth. The Shadow took it, gulping, then paused. His flickering yellow eyes begged Odo. “What say thee, King?”
Odo exhaled, looking yet again at the pup. “I…I cannot accept.”
“Thou art of the old ways sworn to uphold their beliefs. Doth thou renounce truth, sire?” His voice was strong as the waves of the sea, even as his life drained from him.
“You jest? A demon bestows a pup of Siberal to a half-human half-Seltan king? In all the power of my human kingship, or the power of Nohar from the Seven Realms, I am useless to this pup. She… he, deserves his own kind, not a man like me?”
The demon breathed slow. “Thou knows not the truth. The blood of kings and the great wise stronghold prevails because thou liveth. Thou bends the knee to the old creeds of justice! Will thou deny me the Code of Life, sire?”
Odo looked behind the demon’s eyes seeing death neared and lowered his head, confused. He nodded with a quick jerk of his head. “The great wise stronghold, you say?” Odo chuckled. “What do you know of me that the gods do not?” In his sarcasm, he found truth. “This oath cannot be pledged without utter devotion.”
“Thou art more than thy reflection as king, sire, a… accept before I die… doth thou deny thy vow to the old ways?”
“Ancient Ways?” Odo shook his head. “Yes, my knee is bent to the true hope… but…”
“Thou canst deny me.” Domis motioned with his eyes to Odo’s royal tunic. “Doth thy human kingdom, sire, question thy sigil? A winged hilt: one a black taloned smooth wing, and one of white feathers?” Domis grinned slightly. “Tis the ancient belief that all are equal…”
“… From the time when demons lived side by side with the rest of the realms as one… ’Tis ch…changed.” Odo hung his head and ran his hand over his face seeing the demon die. “You know I cannot deny you. That is why you… you drain your life…” Odo stood up and put his hands on his head. He felt something inside him rip at his heart, and he panicked, seeing Domis was near gone. “I, Odo Mercer shall honor the Code of Life,” he said abruptly, knowing the demon had seconds. “Why me, Domis? Why?”
The Shadow exhaled, and his eyes became soft as he looked at Odo with gratitude. “Arya, she shall teach y…you.” Domis glanced at the pup one last time before he collapsed. Dead. The pup, still safely in his arms, made no sounds.
“Arya?” He looked around and heard no one. He waited, confused about what happened, then bent down, taking the bundle into his arms. The pup’s wrap was bloody. He was awake and looked at Odo as quiet as a still lake, staring into his eyes as if he knew him. Odo smiled, feeling delirious. “It is a bloody damn day in the bloody damn forest, little one.” He looked around again and exhaled. “What shall I do with you? We are enemies. Enemies.” Odo paused, terrified at the pup’s eyes following his. “I shall lose my life if the realms discover I honor the Code of Life to save you.” Odo looked around again, closed his eyes a moment, and took a deep breath.
When Arya burst through the forest. Odo backed up, looking behind her. She saw the pup in Odo’s arms and crumbled to her knees over the chest of the Shadow. Tears fell like hard rain.
Odo jostled, holding the pup. She was from the land of Avar, with golden brown skin, long black hair, and skin brandings, marking her a slave stolen at birth and raised in Siberal. She looked up at Odo, afraid to move or speak.
“Vergth, de chorz opyth?” he asked her, and she swallowed, afraid. “Vergth, de chorz opyth?” he asked again.
She quickly stood. “I am Arya… Scholar of Siberal and companion to the Shadow Domis… I speak thy tongue of Ropian, sire.” She spoke as if she practiced it for moons, while wiping back her tears and swallowing. “I…I shall give care to thy pup.” Her face paled, fearing he would send her away as another tear fell.
“My pup?” He took a breath. “My pup? Today was my coronation and ascension to my throne… I am king only this day. King Odo Mercer, King of Red Isle, but I cannot care for this pup alone.” He scrutinized her, seeing her face begged him as the Shadow’s did and he looked at Domis, then her again. “Come.”
“By your will, sire.” She bowed and looked down at the Shadow. “I beg a grave for Domis,” she said softly.
“Now you ask favors of me?”
“Yea, I ask, sire.” She was bold, but her eyes showed fear as he moved towards her, yet she did not budge.
He stopped close to her, staring. “If you would have left him, I would not trust you to care for the pup. I give you more than a grave. I shall place him in my crypt for the pup to honor when he is grown.”
She fell to her knees. “We are grateful!”
“Why be grateful? I am bound. This is not by my will.”
“You believe in the ancient—”
“Domis covered that. Yes, and my will and belief are challenged to the weight of my strength that all beings are equal. He shall be cared for as he were of my house!” Odo exhaled, calming himself, and looked at the pup. He was still staring at Odo. “Chapsalus. That is your name.”
The female looked up at Odo. “You give him a name meaning bright eyes in demon tongue?”
“Forgive me. Does he have a name?”
“No, sire.
“Is this one well chosen?” She nodded as he placed the pup in her arms. “Arya, we must leave before we are discovered.” He noticed her face deeply cut. “My healer shall take care of that.” Odo gathered his war belt, sword, and belongings, strapping them on himself, and then lifted Domis over his shoulder. “Great kings, he is heavy.” Arya stared, and Odo saw the fear in her eyes melt away. “Come, we… we have much to do.” He waited, and she said nothing. “Do we have much to do?” His attempt to jest made her feel at ease as she pulled Chapsalus close, holding back her tears.
“Yes, sire. Yes, we have much to do!” Arya and Odo quickly found a path and vanished over a small hill.
***
Arriving to Brun Manor, Odo’s home he stopped looking at her. “Cover yourself. Those skin marking will be our death. We must hide Domis’ body here outside the walls of Brun, lest they know he is demon. Worry not, we shall retrieve him this eve. I have a secure place away from animals. He took her to a path leading to a hidden chamber underground. The entrance was low and Odo bent over entering. Placing Domis and his weapons inside and close the door.
She lay Chaps down and rummaged through her satchel, finding a thin cloak to cover her skin markings. “Sire, is this the famous Brun Manor?” For a brief moment she noticed its beauty. “The realms speak of her.”
“Yes and she is my home. I do not abide in the castle. Brun was built for the people of the realms. It is the only place in the human lands where Nohar’s powers abide.” He glanced over at her, seeing her pain. She trembled. “I am sorry for his death.” He gave her a flask. “Cognac… I should have tried to save him. I am one of old believers, yet I had no inclining to save him until it was too late.” He hung his head as he covered the tracks to the door and they continued.
She saw the Manor’s limestone over the tops of the trees. “’Tis beautiful and grand.”
Odo stared up at the tower in the distance. “What do I tell the knights guarding the gate?” He stared longer then threw his hands up. “I am king. I may say what I please, who shall stop me?” He took a breath as they approached.
“Your Grace, thank the gods. The Royalguard deploys a search for you. The King’s Second Fisher just entered.” The guard smiled realizing Odo was this day king. “Y..your king’s second.”
“Call the Healer to my solar.” He waved his hand as the door opened. “Yes… and summon Fisher.” The heavy iron gate crept open, and Arya followed Odo saying nothing. The stares and mumblings rose as the two crossed the sculptured gardens and entered Sun Keep, the family chambers. “We go to my solar, Arya. It is safe to speak there.”
Healer Zeb and Fisher Soren the King’s Second, rushed in not long after and saw the bloody woman. “Secure the door, Fisher. No one enters,” said Odo.
“What has happened, sire?” Fisher stared at the woman.
Arya slowly pointed at Fisher giving him a long gaze.
She had removed the cloak and he saw the skin markings. “A slave of Siberal, sire… You left your celebration, and we feared you abdicated before you began.” Fisher’s tone was disappointment.
Odo frowned and wiped his brow as he began to explain, motioning for Fisher to sit.
“A Shadow you say?” asked Fisher, watching Zeb go to her.
Zeb saw her facial wound festering. He grabbed his satchel and sat beside her, motioning, thinking she did not speak their language. She nodded, and he cleaned it and then placed his palm over the gash, healing it with the powers of Nohar his palm lit healing her wound. Odo loved that about Zeb. That he cared for others regardless of who they were.
Odo continued to explain and Zeb listened saddened to hear of her loss.
“I share your will and honor, sire, but how is this possible.” Fisher leaned back.
A glimpse around the room and Arya trembled. Zeb gave her a flask from his satchel. “You lost someone dear to you. I am sorry for it. This shall ease things.” She did not respond. “You do not understand a word I say.” He held up the flask and she gulped it. Her eyes were heavy laden with sorrow and she now saw it was not only the king to convince. It frightened her.
Odo finished explaining. “I had no choice but to accept the Code of Life.”
Zeb stood up. “I am not lacking compassion, but a code does not keep us alive! How shall we hide a demon pup? He… has talons… a a tail.” Zeb eyed Arya. “How can we trust her. You speak now as if she is one of us.” Zeb was the same age as Odo and still wet behind the ears as a healer who trained in the powers of Nohar’s. His thick sandy-colored hair waved down to his shoulder, and his facial stubble darkened his chin. But it was always his eyes others remembered. Hazel. Sharp as a knife or soft and warm as spring rain. There was no in between.
“Sire, you ascended this day. Are you well?” Fisher was a short man with graying hair and a beard well kept.
“I am as well as ever, Fisher.” Odo looked to Zeb for support, and Zeb gave him a sympathetic look but did not speak.
“Zeb, you have been my closest friend since we were boys, and Fisher, you trained me. You are second to me on my throne. There are so few who have survived the Era of Traitors… We vowed! Vowed to uphold these truths. I know not this Domis Barathir, but honor ran in his veins as it does ours. We cannot turn our back on the very belief we have sacrificed everything for.”
Fisher looked at Arya and the pup. “Mother and pup compromise our plans to remove the usurpers in the realms. It shall take all we have to restore this beaten-down old manor.”
“Seven hundred cycles of power lay in these walls, Fisher. Can we not use a little of it to hide a pup’s talons?”
“Your Grace, with due respect, this human crown you wear did not come without a price.”
“I am aware of my history—”
“You know I love you like a son and respect you as my king. I served your father, mother and now bend a knee to you. But you are still a pup, Odo, and this is foolish.”
“What am I missing Fisher. Should I have killed them in forest and buried the pup?”
Fisher sighed and shook his head frustrated. “No… but this?” He pointed to Arya, holding the pup. “You risk too much. They will kill you… When your human father wed Nettie, a Seltan woman of Nohar’s power, the realm sent me to Red Isle to make sure Nettie did not use her powers in the human world. They accused her of self gain and treason against her realm and assassinated her without a trial. When your father died last cycle and you had sprouted with more power than a half-human should, Realm Selta imprisoned you to prevent a man of power from ascending to the human throne. You fought them, sire, and you won but only because you have something they want. We all know what it is. It was then we laid our plan with careful strategies to retake the realms when Brun’s powers were strong enough to claim independence. But it is done by foolery, they believe we restore Brun Manor for the glory of Selta, that you shall build your kingdom for what they covet. We are the last of the Warriors of Seltan able to restore the Ancient ways to the Seven Realms. So, tell me, my lord, would you in your right mind risk all now for a maddened shadow carrying his son into the forest? A son with talons.”
“I can hide his talons,” Arya’s voice was small and almost weak, yet determination fiercely shown through her eyes.
“What?” Fisher and Zeb both threw their hands up. Fisher’s fingers tightened around his hilt. “She speaks Unity tongue! And you allowed me to ramble on revealing our secrets? Sire, she now must die.”
They stared speechless as she lay the pup down and pulled Domis’ scrolls from his belongings. “If it is to be my end, so be it, Lord Fisher. Here are his birth runes. Shall I read it to you?” She stood up and looked at them. “The Code of Life is a vow of fealty amongst other things. I shan’t never harm, my king…”
“So says the mother with a pup.” Fisher swiveled away.
“The pup is not my son, nor is he Domis’. He is the son of peasants. House of Grafturth. His mother Frgurthi, father Holder.”
“A peasant?” said Fisher. “A peasant… There is more to this story.” He glared, crossing the room, taking her arm reading the markings. “A slave, stollen at birth.” He could not stop staring at her. “You were chained to a pleasure chamber destined to never see sunlight. Yet,” he looked at Odo, “she reads and writes, speaking several languages. ’Tis a trick of Selta? Or a desperate royal of Siberal fleeing the realms?”
Arya stood up. “Why would a royal of Siberal come to a human king or a Seltan? We are enemies. It is simple, Lord Fisher. Early yesterday Domis was given the order to slay the House of Grafturth. We fought and killed our own and gave up a life of luxury to arrive to this precarious predicament.” She spoke, not realizing how odd it sounded, and she sat down again worried.
Fisher pointed. “There is more. Why does she hide it?” His eyes widened, and he pointed. “Who is the pup? “No one would claim the Code of Life for a peasant.” ” He paced and turned around. “No one!”
“Domis Barathir managed it, Fisher,” said Odo standing up. He gave Arya a curious look. “A peasant?”
She held out the runes. “I was a peasant’s daughter too.” Her voice was stronger this time, and they noticed.
“I was the son of a baker,” Zeb shrugged. “Given a title to befriend the prince.” Zeb pointed at Odo.
“What say you?” asked Fisher. “You two were two peas in a pod.”
“’Twas true, but I was not of high birth. Lady Vica Brun, knew I would not be allowed in the royal quarters as the lowly son of a baker and made me a lord. We were brothers from the day we met fighting with peasants over a mud puddle at age ten,” Zeb cracked a smile remembering. “If we do not stand by the Code, we are unworthy to hail ourselves Warriors of Seltan.” said Zeb, moving towards the pup. “I can send for goat’s milk.” Arya’s eyes said yes.
“Fisher?” said Odo. “What say you?”
“Where the king goes, I follow, sire.” His voice was saddened with doom. “I though must point out…whether it be peasant, lord, or cook, matters not if we are all dead.” Fisher shook his head at Chaps. “How does an Avarian slave know how to hide a pups talons?”
“What can I give you to prove my loyalty?” she asked boldly, still staring at him oddly.
“This is your moment to make your case by example. Domis Barathir gave his life,” snapped Fisher. “He knew no other path would sway a king.” Fisher did not move a muscle. “We would succumb to nothing if we were to deny the Shadow. I vow to honor the Code of Life.” He sighed. “Yet, we shall never know if you are a spy or a liar, but I know this. You are no slave. When a female babe is taken by Siberal. She is trained from age twelve. To pleasure the lords if she is beautiful. To pleasure the warriors if she is average. To work in the hollows if she is ugly. But worse, their toes are removed from their right foot so that their walk is recognized, and that she might never escape.”
“You have been to Siberal, Lord Fisher. No slaves ever leave once brought there.”
“So, how shall you die? A liar or a spy?”
Odo now felt the fool. How could he be fooled so easily? “Kill her,” Odo whispered.
“What of the pup?” she asked.
“I honor the Code.” Odo looked her straight in the eyes.
Her face showed great joy and it confused them. Fisher moved towards her, and she grabbed her staff and leaped over him, thrusting him backward. He slid into the hearth. Odo and Zeb pulled their swords. She looked up at the two blades holding her when she removed her shoe.
“No toes,” said Fisher. “No toes.”
“You do not remember me. I hailed you White.”
“Sire, lower your swords.” Fisher stood up and approached her. “You…who are you?”
“I brought you locha root to cure your infections that turned your skin white.”
Zeb and Odo did not understand. “I rarely speak of it, sire, but you are privy to my capture in Selta when taken to Siberal during the Era of Traitors. My cycle there would have ended in death if a little slave girl had not snuck food and medicine to me.”
Tears began pouring down her cheeks. “’Twas you… you, my lord, who taught me to read.” She wiped her face and dirt-smeared over it. “Because of that, I ended up in the temple and became an honor scholar. I was too ugly for the lords, too short for the warriors, and too smart for the hollows because I could read Unity tongue. A rare skill then.”
He stared remembering and then exhaled. “W… why sacrifice yourself? It makes no sense.” She did not answer and Fisher backed up and fell to his knee, pulling his sword.
Zeb followed him and kneeled beside him, laying his sword crossed over Fisher’s, followed by Odo. Three swords resembled a star. When Arya lay her staff over the top, tears brimmed, and she bowed to them, falling to her knees, completing the circle. “I vow to share the knowledge of his birth and reveal the Book of Light and all its secrets.” Silent tears continued to fall.
Odo watched her. “What is the knowledge of his birth and the secrets of this book?”
“I shall teach you the four dialects of Siberal’s language. The secrets of the pure codes of Siberal. Domis was here many times before this day watching you. He hid the volumes of books needed in your forest. Rare books, sire, that King Barthtow ordered burned. I offer you Siberal’s fighting technique Ka’ado, and I offer you proof that Chaps’s birth is writ in the stars as a power that shall bring our realms to justice.”
The three could not have been more still as Zeb cleared his throat. “Why not say that from the beginning?”
“If you would not honor the Code of Life, how could I trust you with one of the most precious births in a millennium,” she watched them hoping. “Brun’s powers in all its glory cannot change the devastating effects over the last few hundred cycles without Chaps. With him you shall find three more writ in the stars needed to change our worlds. With him, this precious little one shall teach you the secrets to all races as was writ in the Era of Justice.”
“Why me?” asked Odo.
“We have labored for thirty cycles, sire, seeking survivors to raise the old ways again. Domis has a spy in Selta who witnessed your plea before the courts to revive Brun and rule in the human lands. The stars speak of one who raises the four writ in the stars. We think it is you and we had no other hope. It was you or death.”
Fisher took her hand motioned to sit. “You were brave then and I see now little changes.”
“I am a scholar, Lord Fisher. I have studied the Ancients. All eight of them.” She pointed to Odo. “He can protect those who shall eventually stop babes from being stolen and turned into slaves. I do not see anything past this. I see no starvation, I see no realms falling from the sky, I see me over and over in each babe that arrives to Siberal since the Era of Traitors. I do not know life other than Siberal’s cruelty and Domis love. But I can prove that Siberal’s old ways are not cruel or unkind they are just and beautiful as Domis was. I took a vow as a scholar to follow justice. I wish to see Siberal rescued.”
“Who are the others you claim writ in the stars?” asked Odo.
“I know not yet. But I possess the scrolls to prove they come, and knowledge to find them. All my knowledge is all yours, sire.” Arya was weak and her weighted eye lids were near closing.
“You should rest and we then shall see your proof.”
She nodded, pointing to her satchel. “The scrolls are there. Mistra your protector shall be able to verify much of what I claim.”
“Mistra?”
“Sire, she is Guardian Protector of Selta. Commissioned to save the Ancient that once was here at Brun.”
“She is indeed trusted as one of us.” Odo could not wait he went to the satchel feeling a chilling excitement.
“We have so much to speak of. Forgive my doubt,” said Fisher
“I would have done the same, White.” She smiled slightly with a grateful glance.
“I remember you never came without a smile even after they beat you.”
“I was ugly, thus, it mattered not about my scars.” Her eyes were tired and mournful.
“You need to mourn Domis.” She nodded.
“I shall arrange a bath and a chamber for her privacy,” said Odo.
Fisher bowed to Odo. “Your judgment this day is above me, Your Grace.” He turned and bent over Chaps. “I was told they do not grow back, so we cannot remove them.” He touched Chap’s little fingers, and a tiny talon appeared. “Mother gods,” he gulped and then smiled. “I have never seen such beauty.”
Zeb and Odo were all poking their heads around him. “Shines like a jewel,” smiled Zeb.
“His name means bright eyes,” said Odo, like a proud father.
Zeb’s curiosity grew and he turned to Arya. “How are you able to walk?”
“Ka’ado. Domis taught me. I am able to walk, run, leap.”
“Ka’ado! Now for that goat’s milk. I smell oba leaf. It keeps a babe quiet.”
“Yes, I regret using it. But if he cried in the forest, we might be dead. It does not hurt him if used only once.” Zeb hurried out of the room for the milk, and the three spoke until he returned. He handed her a warm cup of milk and honey and began feeding Chaps. “Will you look at that? The little one is hungry.”
When Olivia Brun’s voice was heard yelling at the knights, three men scrambled. “Your bride-to-be, sire, how do we explain this?”
Olivia burst through the door. Her reddish hair softly billowed around her beautiful features and down he back. When she moved, it was graceful and poised. “My lord. I was frantic!” She stared at the room wearing an elaborate gown for his coronation.
“My lady betrothed,” replied Odo. He pointed. “May I introduce Arya Barath. Her husband Benai Brath, a knight of Avar, forfeited his life to save mine from an attack this day. Rogue demons would have ended my life, but his bravery extended it. They were strolling with their son when it happened.” Zeb and Fisher grinned with his story exchanging glances.
Olivia’s eyes expressed concern to have near lost Odo. “My lady. ’Tis a most terrible sadness,” said Olivia showing Arya compassionate eyes.
Arya said nothing, but she bowed in her seat.
“She is clearly in shock,” said Olivia.
“Avar does not honor the wives of fallen knights.” She looked at Odo. “My King, her husband saved you, our king! We shall grant her the honor of a lord’s chamber in the citadel, as the widow of the fallen knight…B…Bena”
“…Benai Brath.”
“Yes, Benai Brath. With honor, she shall be hailed Dome Arya Brath… and the poor babe.” The men prayed she did not move towards the pup and accidentally see his talons.
Odo walked over to her kissing her hand to prevent her from approaching Chaps. “My lady, it is as I would wish from my future queen. Perhaps when the boy is old enough, he shall serve me as my personal page and squire to become the knight his father was.”
Fisher moved close to Zeb. “This could not go better,” he whispered. Zeb nudged him.
Olivia bowed pleased to have made him glad. “Why has Nomi not been summoned to bathe her?” She looked around the room. “She is in mourning and in need of privacy.”
“Our customs, my lady, do not allow such pleasure as one to bathe another while in mourning. I shall bathe myself and my babe if it does not offend the future queen.”
Olivia smiled being hailed the future queen. “Of course, Dome Arya.”
Zeb urged Olivia from Chaps by crossing the room to pick Chaps up. “Allow me to heal Arya and make sure the babe is well.” He nodded to Olivia as if deciding for her.
“I shall take her to the citadel my self,” said Fisher.
Olivia smiled. “I shall have a maid prepare the bath in the apartment over the King’s Garden and send clothing, food and supplies.”
Arya bowed. “I am grateful!”
“’Tis the royal house of Mercer and Brun grateful to Benai and it shall not be forgotten.” Olivia smiled at Odo wanting ever so much to please him and he walked her out the door and down the stairs, talking.
Fisher exhaled as the door closed. “It begins. How shall we hide the truth?”
“I spoke the truth. I can hide his talons with the help of the healer.”
Zeb felt nauseous and reached for the cognac, but Fisher grabbed it from him and gulped it. When he was done he handed it to Zeb. “Time is already running out. A pup in the castle?”
“Better than Brun where Seltan’s lurk around every corner.” Both he and Zeb sunk down in their seats.
