Chapter 26 – Out of Nowhere
Nineteenth of Learning 1142
Eric wasn’t sure what to expect when he opened his eyes, but this wasn’t it. The last remnants of dawn still painted the sky. Dahr was sleeping. His undead captors were both still in the front seat, bringing them closer and closer to The Fellowship, and nothing seemed wrong. The chirkir, which had spoken to him from a video game, had told him he had to wake up, and he did, almost immediately. The sense of urgency that had accompanied the command was not lost on him.
Eric stood up in the cart and looked around. There was something in the air. A foreboding. A sense of danger. The idea amused him. He was in a cart, being taken to the Fellowship by his undead captors, and yet he felt relatively
safe. But that was about to change. He could feel it. Was there something off to the left, in the distance? What was that? His captors hadn’t seemed to notice it.
“Dahr, wake up?”
“Huh?”
“Something is coming.”
At that, Eldiss pulled on the reins, and the horses came to a stop. Aisha jumped off first, followed by Eldiss, who looked in the same direction Eric was staring.
“I don’t see anything.”
“It’s a cloud.”
“A cloud?”
“I don’t know what else to call it. It’s brown and moving in our direction.”
A couple of minutes later, they could all see it. It looked almost like a dust storm, but a low one to be sure. Five minutes later, they knew what they were dealing with. Eldiss’s voice, raised above the approaching din, rumbled like thunder.
“By the Undead King’s beard.”
“The Undead King has a beard?” asked Dahr.
Eric shook his head. “Not the time, Dahr.”
Eric had seen centaurs before, but not this many together at one time. There had to be a hundred of them, maybe more, geared in matching armor, carrying spears, swords, or halberds. They had no chance against such numbers.
The centaurs moved in unison, their sleek, black horse-like bodies in perfect lockstep. Their tanned muscular human torsos rose above their bodies, and though he couldn’t clearly see their faces yet, he could imagine their grim and determined expressions. It never ceased to amaze Eric how human they looked from the waist up. But they weren’t human. They had different thought processes, different lifestyles, different beliefs. Centaurs were a different species and when dealing with them it was important to remember that.
They came to a stop a short distance away, an unmoving wall of warriors, their solid black horse bodies completely identical, while their human bodies varied in coloration and build.
“What is this?” asked Eldiss, his baritone carrying easily across the distance between them.
One of the centaurs galloped forward, closing about half the distance. He had swarthy skin, dark eyes and long black hair that flowed into a mane halfway down his back. His square, clean-shaven jaw made him look set on his course of action. He’d seen that same stubborn look on Dahr’s face on more than one occasion, which made it harder for him to take the threat it represented as seriously.
“We are here to relieve you of your cargo.”
“We have an understanding,” said Eldiss.
“We had an understanding. That was before the gods declared their support for High King Terrence.”
High King Terrence? What was that about. Eric felt dizzy at the implications.
“It happened in the throne room in Rish. The gods of order have chosen their champion. It was one thing to support your king when the gods hadn’t involved themselves directly, but this is a different matter. Those of us with classes can’t afford to ignore the will of our patrons.”
“Centaurs have no honor,” growled Eldiss.
The centaur shrugged. “If you try to stop us, we will take them and kill you. This far from Xarinos, you will not come back. We’re giving you a chance to walk away.”
“You will regret this.”
“That is a possibility. But allying with the Undead King now is untenable. We can not ask our people to stop leveling for your king.”
“You could have turned a blind eye,” said Aisha.
“Could we have? You don’t think the gods would see our lack of support for their cause. They were all there when they named Terrence the High King of Thysandrika; Sylinar, Sheba, Iorana, Se Karn, Mitra even Sarith. If I were you, I wouldn’t expect to have many friends coming to your aid.”
“We still have the Fellowship. Like us, they don’t depend on the gods for their skills.”
“What will you do with us?” asked Eric.
“Nothing, Your Highness. We will protect you, and return you to your father.”
Dahr stood up, looking panicked. “We can’t go back,” he said to Eric. “Don’t let them take us.”
Eric glanced at Dahr, then walked forward toward the centaurs. He knew Dahr had been warming to their captors, and though Eric himself remained skeptical, he tried not to show it. The undead were the enemy. They had always been the enemy. A few conversations and a meal weren’t going to change that. Not for him. His father had nearly been killed in the undead war. He had failed to protect his mother in the Other Realm against them. Sheba would not have trained him to fight undead if they weren’t the enemy.
But Dahr was right. This was where Sheba wanted them to be. Eric didn’t know why but didn’t have to.
“I’m sorry, my friend, but we can’t go with you. We will make sure my father knows that you tried to save us. But we have a destiny of our own, and it involves us continuing our journey. Thank you for your offer of help, but we are exactly where we’re supposed to be.”
The centaur regarded him uncertainly. “Truly?”
Eric summoned his shield, and the centaur moved to reach for a weapon, but held off when he saw no offensive armaments in play. The symbol on his shield glowed brightly.
“I swear it on my goddess Sheba, who has tasked us to follow this through to the end. That you would intervene on our behalf speaks well of your people and your tribe. But our journey must not be interrupted.”
The centaur didn’t say anything else. He turned and galloped back to his people.
Eric walked back to Eldiss and Aisha.
“We should get going.”
“I don’t understand what’s happening here,” said Eldiss.
Dahr shrugged. “We aren’t trying to escape because our goddess wants us here. What’s not to understand?”
Aisha and Eldiss shared a glance, but it was Aisha who spoke. “Perhaps it’s time we stop seeing you as captives and start seeing you as companions.”
Eric nodded. “You have treated us fairly. I do not know the truth of what you’ve said, but I feel it would only be right to keep an open mind and hear what the Undead Queen has to say when we finally meet her. I apologize for my previous hostility, but I’m sure you can understand why it exists.”
Eric held Eldiss’s gaze, considering the words he had just spoken. He hadn’t lied, but he hadn’t told the complete truth either. Was that dishonorable? He had no idea, but he was proud of himself for navigating the gap between what he felt and what he thought his goddess wanted of him.
Dahr looked surprised at Eric’s words but nodded approval. When he spoke, his voice was filled with the kind of hope that Eric could only think of as naive.
“If we could make peace between our peoples, that would end the undead threat as much as anything. It has to be better than war.”
“You should eat and get some rest. We’ll reach the ferry to the Fellowship by tomorrow,” said Eldiss.
Dahr jumped off the cart. He offered Eric a water skin. Eric took it gratefully. The day wasn’t hot, but it was dry, and the dust from the road had irritated his throat. The centaurs had turned and were in the process of galloping back the way they had come. Eric watched them thoughtfully.
He doubted that the centaurs had had a representative in the throne room, and wondered how they had found out about his father’s ascension to high king so quickly. He hadn’t thought to ask, and now it was too late. Yet another thing to ponder for a day at least. And then they’d reach the Fellowship, and he’d have a whole new set of problems to consider.
It was all leading to something, but Eric had no idea what it was, or why Sheba wanted them there. Surely not to sign a treaty. Not if the gods of order had declared war. Eric sighed. He wished he had some clue as to what he was supposed to do when he finally reached the Plains of Xarinos.
*
The Temple of Sylinar in Rish spanned a good portion of the Plaza of the Gods. An ornate truncated pyramid in shades of blue and gold, the temple towered over everything else. Statues of every god surrounded it, even the most minor. And above them all, Sylinar rested atop the structure, standing tall, arms raised in a blessing. Such was her power that no matter where you viewed her from, she was always facing you. This of course meant that no one had ever seen the back of the statue, and speculation about what it might look like was a favorite past time of those who worshipped her.
The square was always busy during daylight hours, but today in particular, it was packed, as somehow word had gotten out that the Queen herself would be making an appearance.
Lady Mere and Lady Trask walked beside Queen Treya, surrounded by a group of guards, predominately from Lady Trask’s household, since the royal guard was mostly occupied.
“What in the world is going on?” asked Lady Mere as she surveyed the crowd.
“Perhaps people have come to see Queen Treya,” replied Lady Trask.
“How could they possibly know she was coming?”
Queen Treya smiled. “I assume Lady Trask might have mentioned it to a servant or two last night.”
Lady Trask ducked her head to hide her smile.
“Alice, what were you thinking?”
“The Queen wants people to be aware that we deal with a certain furniture store. That requires people to see those dealings. I would imagine the poor man will probably have to hire some help after this.”
“That was well done, Lady Trask,” said Treya, surveying the crowd. “I should have thought of it myself.”
Lady Trask tsked. “You knew I’d do this, didn’t you?”
Treya shrugged. “I didn’t know, no. But I considered it a strong possibility.”
Lady Mere chuckled. “I don’t know which of the two of you is worse.”
“Thank you,” said the Queen and Lady Trask at the same time.
All three broke into laughter as the guards pushed through the throng. When they entered the temple, it was considerably less crowded. A middle-aged man awaited them, shifting from foot to foot.
“Good morning, Lek”, said Queen Treya.
“Good morning, Your Majesty.”
Though she had asked Lek to call her Treya, she didn’t correct him this time. She understood that in public, it would have been far less comfortable for him. Others would judge him, no matter her will.
“I’d like you to meet my friends, Lady Mere and Lady Trask. They would like to take a look at the shop with me after this.”
While the bulk of the crowd had remained outside, there were enough worshipers present to assure that people would talk. Lek swallowed nervously. Treya led him to the room she’d been given to treat him, a small parlor with enough chairs so that everyone could be comfortable. Pastel, sunset colors were used to great effect, the subtle variations both beautiful and relaxing.
Lek took his usual seat, while Lady Mere and Lady Trask each settled into comfortable armchairs nearby, allowing them to watch without being close enough to distract. A priest had entered behind them, just in case something went wrong, and a healer needed to be brought in. It wasn’t that the priests didn’t trust Queen Treya, but none of them had ever heard of Sheba providing a soul healing skill, and it was better to be safe when dealing with unknown injuries, particularly soul damage.
Treya began as she always did, asking Lek how he’d been, and making small talk. Neither of her friends spoke at all. When she cast Soul Salve, Queen Treya grew silent. Though no one else in the room could see what she saw, they understood she needed to concentrate. Whatever their individual thoughts, no one voiced them.
Once again, the near perfection that was Lek’s soul was arranged before her. Once again it was obvious where the damage was, and what would have to occur for Lek’s soul to be made whole again, but Treya had no real idea how she could make that happen. She had tried visualizing the soul as it should have been, but that had accomplished nothing. Now she went to the very edge of the damage, and attempted to pull it closed by guiding it with her mind. Again, there was no result.
Treya couldn’t believe that Sheba would give her a skill that allowed her to see damage without being able to fix it. That would be unnecessarily cruel. Not only for her, but for the person she was treating, who finally had some hope that they might be healed.
Treya examined the damage more closely. She could no longer see the room or the people that were in it. As she focused her attention, she drew closer, the damage filling her vision until it was all she could see. She could almost feel the soul straining to repair itself. To morph into its perfect form. That was new. She hadn’t sensed that before. What did that mean?
Perhaps she had been going about this the wrong way. Was the wound itself something that prevented the soul from healing, rather than being the gash she had thought it was? She studied the wound, instead of the soul. Was there something present in that void? Did she dare enter it?
She projected herself further into Lek’s soul. She could see it in front of her, and then it was around her. No matter which way she turned her head, color, texture and movement suffused her. It was as if she were watching a slow dance composed of thousands of rainbow clouds. But the wrongness was there, off to the side. She focused on it again, drew closer, saw the damage, but this time, she also saw the cause. A piece of the thing that had touched him was still lodged in his soul. Treya shuddered, despite the beauty around her. Whatever had damaged him was still inside, like a piece of a blade breaking off and causing problems.
She moved toward it, terrified and determined at the same time. It didn’t feel evil to her, just wrong. What was it? Surely it wasn’t soul matter. It seemed more like a splinter of something that had broken off. Perhaps it had once been powerful, but now it was inert— an echo of an event that had happened. The last remnant of that long ago attack.
She pushed against it with her will and at first nothing happened. Then, to her surprise, it fought back. Not dead then. Whatever it was had the desire to survive. She could feel its frantic struggles, but she was stronger. Much stronger. She did not doubt that the enemy had once been more robust, but years had passed since it had entered. It was a shadow of its former self.
But what was it? She tried to see it now, really see it, as if she were examining a soul itself.
It was cold. Dark. There was power behind it but not within it. She pushed with her mind and could feel it move. Deeper. Away from Lek. And above it, she could see the edges of the wound in Lek’s soul begin to draw together. Just a bit, but it was a beginning. Progress.
The thing, whatever it was, fought back. Not a physical fight, like a tug of war. It tried to play with her mind. She experienced fear but fought through it. Images of the times in her life when she was most vulnerable started to appear around her. She watched herself alone and lost as a child. She watched numerous betrayals she had experienced throughout her life. She watched Terrence telling her that he had broken their marital vows. She re-experienced giving birth to her second son. The pain of it all. The weight of it in her mind.
But those things had already happened, and though she couldn’t see him, she knew Lek sat across from her. Lek was the important one now, not her. She pushed back against the creature, and it fought furiously to find purchase in her mind, but Treya would not allow it.
She pushed with every ounce of her will. She thought of Lek on the battlefield, risking his life for Rish. For Twyl. For Terrence. She thought about Lord Ormund, and how his damage was so much worse than this. If she failed here, if she couldn’t heal Lek, then what could she possibly do to help Lord Ormund? The thought spurred her forward. She redoubled her effort, though where the energy to do so came from, she had no idea.
A moment passed, then another. The disruption in Lek’s soul was forced back further. Further. Her will coalesced now in a way it never had before, and she strained with all her mind.
She didn’t feel the sweat forming on her brow, dripping into her eyes. She didn’t hear the worried voices of her friends asking if she was all right, or the concern expressed by the priest. Her focus was complete, and bit by bit, she pushed against the corruption.
One minute, two, ten. Striving was all that existed in the universe. And then, when she thought she could strive no more, it was done. The damage to Lek’s soul was still there, but there was nothing to prevent it from healing. Already she could sense the wound beginning to close, but it would take time. Exhausted, she canceled the spell and collapsed back into the chair, ignoring the swarm of concerned voices that surrounded her.
And far away, in a place she had neither been to nor heard of, the Undead King straightened up and looked in what would have been her direction had they actually been in the same universe.
“Well done, Queen Treya. Bravo. I don’t know how you managed it, but I have to say, I’m impressed. Enjoy this victory. You have just become my number one priority.”
He returned his attention to the computer monitor but could no longer remember what he had been working on. In frustration, he switched it off.
He hadn’t been particularly worried about the High King and his impending invasion. He could always retreat back into the plains where he was strongest. He knew that Terrence entertained some fantasy about following him, but none of them, not even the gods, understood the source of his power. In truth, he really didn’t understand it himself, but he knew that on his home turf, no one would be able to harm him.
But Treya had just done something he’d have thought was impossible. She had taken one of his hidden assets and removed it from the game board. If she could do that, who knew what else she could do. Had he been so focused on Terrence that he’d ignored an even bigger threat?
The Undead King didn’t know. But it was absolutely vital that he find out.
The Book of Lost Wisdom continues with Chapter 25 – The Wanderers, coming soon