Rohvim #1: Metal and Flesh (40 page)

BOOK: Rohvim #1: Metal and Flesh
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Priam, Yoruth, and their companion kept a steady pace for many weeks, aiming to arrive in Ramath well before the company. “I won’t be able to enter the city—not unless they fail, of course …” Priam trailed off.

“They will not fail. It is prophesied to be so—knowledge from the creator himself given to man.” Yoruth muttered, breathing heavily from exertion.

“I don’t know, Aeden is a good swordsman, and the rest of them are very talented. But I just don’t see how …”

Yoruth interrupted, “You don’t see how because you do not see at all! Have you not studied the words from the prophesies I’ve shown you? The one—the rohva of the first kind that the king of healers himself shall choose, along with the second, shall be the instruments of change in the hands of the Creator himself. And this one here—” Yoruth motioned back to their companion, “—we’re not dragging this one around for fun! It’s all in the Chronicles. All of it! That is why I have taken great pains to preserve those close to him—that is one of the reasons you’re here and not dead on the field of the great Puertamandian plain. It is because I willed it and I only willed it because the Chronicles demand it. And they demand it so that I … we, can change the world. It is prophesied.”

Priam hushed up at this, not wishing to stir Yoruth’s ire more. At last, though, he continued, “Who is the creator?”

Yoruth smiled, and replied, “The creator sits at the top of the mountains, and he awaits us there. And we will find him. Just as Ilien the fair. Just as Galen Thunderspeak. We will find him.”

“He’s a man?”

“Man? Woman? Rohva? Divine being? Does it matter? But we will find him, and at last the prophecies will be fulfilled. And we, my dear, will fulfill them. To the praise of all.”

 

To:          
[email protected]

From:    
[email protected]

Date:
  
Wed, Feb 22, 2012 at 7:53 PM

Cc:          
[email protected]

Subject: Was it ok?

 

Dear Mr. Luista,

By now you should have received and possibly finished reading the manuscript. Is it ok? Did you like it? I hope you had as much fun reading it as my wife had editing it—which took so much of her time that she insisted on receiving 50% of the revenue, which means I’ll be losing several hundred dollars on every book I write for you after I take into account your 50%, her 50%, and the fees for the illustrator and cover artist. But hey, I would have wasted the time every night playing videogames, so I consider it time well spent.

Did you find any loose ends? Plot holes? Character development issues? You should, since I found many, and a few were intentional, but really, I think we can fix many of them in the next book of the series, which I have already started.

By the way, you mentioned you wanted a platform for addressing your fans. I’m not sure that you actually have any fans, but, ok, whatever, I made a website for you that you can fill up with whatever your brilliant robot mind sees fit. Its
www.siestaluista.com
.
I’ve even linked my own website,
www.endiwebb.com
to it. I also made you a Facebook account. I can’t help you much with that, since I have one of my own.

My daughter asked me to thank you for the Burger King crown you gave her.

Sincerely,

Dr. Endi Webb

 

 

To:          
[email protected]

From:    
[email protected]

Date:
  
Wed, Feb 23, 2012 at 11:01 PM

Cc:          
[email protected]

Subject: Re: Was it ok?

 

My shrewd scientist, I am overjoyed, simply overjoyed to receive your latest electronic message. Take heart, my friend, it was quite honestly the most brilliant piece of literary masterpieceship that I have read in my entire life! I hyperbolize not! With my ideas, and your word typing abilities, I think we have the beginning of something very profitable indeed.

Worry not over your many errors. You’ve followed a proven recipe for success: a young male protagonist with no easily discernable faults or imperfections—none to my eyes at least, a love interest whose only weakness is her eerie lack of any—maybe a little unnatural but hey, you’re the ghost writer—a fat kid good for a laugh, the comic relief friend of the love interest, a quest, a mystical power, strange objects, a mysterious dark lord, you’ve got it all!

I thought you were going to include some “moral lessons” as you call them. What happened? Anyway, I’m glad you changed your mind. Better profits this way.

Great Rohva, this is awkward. Concerning your daughter. Would you mind dropping my crown off at my hotel when you can? I hadn’t meant to leave it there. Truly sorry.

Well, my good man, my adequate business partner, my not quite sub-par associate, until next time. Please let me know when the book launches—I’ll be sure to fill up my webpage with a large steamy pile of words in preparation for the big day. Do you have any friends or family that would like to ghost write my blog? All this writing has made me a little dizzy, I’m afraid.

 

Magnificently,

Siesta Luista

 

 

Epilogue

 

 

The three arrived at the shopkeeper’s home, after some cajoling and convincing of Lady Rossam, and Betha welcomed them inside.

“Mother, please meet Betha Solvinstra, daughter of Solfim Solvinstra,” Aeden said, turning to Betha’s father, “who, before he retired, held the rank of lieutenant in the royal guard.”

Lady Rossam angled her head a little, bowed it slightly, and the old man bowed deeply before her, taking her hand in his.

“Lady Rossam. It is truly an honor to have you here in our home. What is ours is yours.”

She raised him up graciously, and said, “Master Solvinstra. I must thank you, profusely thank you for allowing your daughter to protect my son on their errand from the king. He has told me she is quite the swordswoman, and I am in your debt, and hers.” She took Betha’s hand and pulled her in tightly, embracing the surprised young woman.

A little red in the face, Betha motioned to the newcomers, “Please, friends, this way,” and led them into a small room. A table, humbly set with dented steel plates and clay cups, beckoned invitingly to them, candles arrayed upon it, releasing smoke up to the wooden and steel ceiling.

They sat, and talked over wine and water for several minutes before Betha left the room, returning with a large steel plate full of steaming hunks of freshly baked bread. They partook, buttering the sweet, wheaty chunks, sprinkled with coarse salt, and conversed, quite content. The lady’s mood loosened as she became acquainted with the man and his daughter, and began to laugh freely at the jokes and anecdotes passed around. Betha left once more and returned with a roasted chicken, sweetened with savory herbs growing in their rear courtyard.

Betha’s father said, “I have something to report to the rest of you. One of my contacts in the royal guard passed through here the night before last, on his way to prepare fortifications of the northern cities, for reasons which I will tell you now. He reported that the diplomatic missions from the northern kingdoms of Volda, Vaasa and Ramala had sought an audience before the king. While at court, they protested what they called incursions of raiding parties, led by sorcerers and witches, that had been terrorizing the southern parts of their kingdoms. They protested the army that the king has been raising with the goal of repatriating Elbeth, and did not believe that a foreign army of unknown origin had conquered it. The king claimed innocence, and assured the ambassadors of the purpose of our army, but during his speech to them, one of the trusted advisors to the king stepped forward, lightning sprouting from his fingertips, and within a moment, the ambassador from Volda lay dead. “As you commanded, my lord” he said, bowing to the king. The diplomatic missions left in a hurry to return to their lands, and my contact fears war is brewing.”

After several moments of solemn silence, the Lady Rossam spoke, “My sons. You told me much about your journeys and adventures last night, but I feel that not all is aright, especially now, hearing these evil tidings from Sir Solvinstra, and I confess that not all of your story is terribly convincing. Perhaps Betha would like to fill in some of the details you have left out?” The four others looked at each other across the table for a few moments, and Aeden nodded.

“Mother, you are indeed correct, there is something we have not told you yet.” He breathed in deeply, collecting his thoughts. “Do you think it odd, that the king, seeing his land invaded, would send a group of healers to confront the evil?”

“Yes, I do. It has troubled me greatly for months.”

“Well, the king knows that the society of healers is a little more than a society … of healers. He knows that we have more abilities than that, though even he knows little …”

She interrupted, “I suspected it was a society of sorcerers and witches, using dark powers of the evil one …”

“No, Madam.” Betha’s father spoke firmly, “Excuse my zeal, my lady, but I am a true believer in the Creator and his word that he has revealed to us. I would never associate myself with wizards or magicians or what have you. No, the society is different.” He paused, “Do go on, Aeden, and excuse my interruption.”

The boy continued, “Mother, We, all of us—you too—I mean the whole human race, as far as we know, is … different. Not what we think it is. The animals, the trees, all other living things are made of earth and flesh and blood. We too have flesh and blood, but we alone of all the Creator’s creations have metal within us.” He picked up a chicken bone, “Fowl have white bones such as this. And when you bend them ever so slightly,” the bone snapped dramatically, a bit of meat shooting across the table, “they break. We have bones of metal that break under only the most terrible force.”

The lady shook her head, “This is common knowledge, my son. The Chronicles teach us …”

Aeden interrupted, “And the Chronicles are not wrong, mother. The book of the Creator is true and the work of the Creator is good. But, perhaps, the human race has misunderstood the words of the Creator. What I’m trying to tell you is, we are all mechanical beings. We are like the saw mill near the stream in Elbeth that uses the power of water to move the gears and the saws. Except, instead of water, we have captured within us the power of the clouds and skies. Our souls are made of the stuff of the heavens, and give power to our bodies of steel and flesh. And as such, knowing our true natures, we can use it to the benefit of all rohvim. Permit me to show you?”

The lady hesitated, then nodded. Aeden and Cyrus extended their hands, resting them on her head, and entered, pulling her with them, explaining all to her in just a minute or so—according to those who watched.

 

 

 

Well, here we are. You, me, and Siesta Luista, but don't worry, he's sitting in the corner, totally distracted with angry birds on my phone. While I've got you here by myself, might I ask something of you? You made it to the end of the book, so you clearly either liked it, or have a very high tolerance for pain. If the former, please consider leaving a review. If the latter, I'd actually like to hear from you too. Leave a review and tell me how the book could be better. I read every review and would love your help to polish it up and make it shine. Or at least give it a grimy sheen. And also ... oh crap, here he comes ... Oh, Hi Siesta! Did you like the phone? Oh, this here is someone who just finished... yes ... yes ... yes ... uh huh ... yeah, I'm pretty sure they paid for it ... no, we can't do that ... no, Siesta, that would be stealing ... uh huh ... uh huh ... look, why don't you go over there and, hey! Here's my tablet. That's right, go play with that. Now then ... uh, hello? Are you there? Hello? Dangit, Siesta, you scared them off!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Table of Contents

Prologue

Act I

Chapter one

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

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