The Eight Walls of Rogar: An Epic Fantasy Adventure Series! (The Lost Kingdoms of Laotswend Trilogy--Book One) (43 page)

“You have made me proud to be your king!” he yelled, “and have shown me how strongly the blood of our forefathers runs through your veins!”  He pointed west.  “I am going to ride out that gate and join Prince Palden!  I’m through hiding behind this wall!  Against such a force, we won’t last long, so we might as well face them head on.  I will not begrudge any who wish to be on their way.  There is no shame in it, but I for one shall not allow that army to march across Rogarian soil so long as I draw breath!  Now, who’s with me?”

Nearly every Rogarian well enough to walk or ride followed him out the gate that day.  They followed him because of what they’d been through together, because they would rather die than become slaves, because they were the Alderi Shune and he was their king—but most of all, because they loved Rogar and they loved him.

Laris could hear the thundering of hooves, and could see vague shapes moving behind the dust.  It wouldn’t be long now.  Soon he would join his ancestors in Kolera.  He drew Onoray, raised it to the heavens, and shouted, “Come on, men!  Let’s give them something to remember!”  He felt the old familiar rush, the sickening euphoria he always felt before a battle.  The man to his right signaled the charge.  Swords were drawn.  “For Rogar!” Laris cried.

“For Rogar!” they answered.

Without warning, the army rushing towards them came to an abrupt halt.

Laris held up his hand and drew back on the reigns.  What were they doing?  Why had they stopped?

As the dust settled, he could begin to make out more detail—figures and bits of color.  He blinked his eyes. 
Am I imagining things,
he thought
, or is that the gold and green of Sokerra?

And then he saw the prince, sitting at the head of the army with his head held high.  The stocky fellow beside the prince wore golden armor that, despite the dust, shone like it had just been polished.  He had a bald head and a silver beard, matched only, if his son could be believed, by his silver tongue.

“King Palden,” Laris whispered.

Both father and son looked his direction, grinning at the stunned expression on his face.  Laris sheathed his sword and raised his hand in greeting.  It seemed it was a day for rejoicing after all.

Duty-Bound

T
he celebration they threw that night would be talked about for years to come.  King Laris and King Palden conversed well into the morning, drinking wine, Greenhaven Select of course, and smoking long-stemmed pipes.  King Palden turned out to be a great connoisseur of Rogarian tobacco.  The two found they had this, as well as a number of other things in common, many of which had nothing to do with their titles.

Trilla danced and laughed with her new husband late into the night.  He’d earned her respect, and even love during the brief but turbulent time since they’d been together, showing her an unwavering devotion that made her feel safe.

Gaven and Andaris drank their fill of bilberry wine and eventually lost consciousness beside the main banquet table, backs propped against the wall, faces lit with contentment.

Rather than celebrating with the others, Ashel spent the night alone in Elkar’s study, familiarizing himself with its contents.  A couple of hours before dawn, Elkar’s reflection appeared in the oval mirror hanging above the desk.  Ashel was startled, but not afraid.  Since his near-fatal encounter with Grindark, he saw life and death as they were, simply as altered states of being.  He now knew that there was no beginning and no end—only change.

“Welcome,” Ashel said.  “What may I do for you?  Is everything all right?”

Elkar nodded, looking very serene.  “Oh, yes, everything is just as it should be,” he replied, “which is one of the reasons I am here.  I want to thank you for your timely intervention, and for your courage in the face of apparent defeat.  Rogar would have fallen without you.”

“And without quite a few other people, as well,” Ashel reminded him, “including yourself, but I appreciate the compliment.”

Elkar touched his fingers to his forehead in acknowledgment.  “You’re welcome,” he said.  Now, I want you to relay a message for me, to the king.  Please tell him that Fenton Albigard was innocent of any wrongdoing, completely unaware that he was being used by the Lost One to help fulfill his dark purpose.”

“I’m sure that will come as quite a relief to him,” said Ashel.  “I would be glad to pass along such happy news.  I’ll take care of it first thing in the morning, if that is acceptable.”

“That will be fine,” replied Elkar.  “I know his Majesty is exhausted after all that he has endured.  There is no need to wake him in the middle of the night.”

“Agreed,” Ashel said.  “Now, is there anything else?  Anything at all?”

“Only this.  If ever you need me, simply stare into this mirror and recite the summoning spell on page forty-two in volume nine of the Tomes of Osilad.  I can, as I have demonstrated, come on my own, but it takes a great deal of effort.  You will find the Tomes in my private library on the top floor of my tower.  The tower is located on a small island caught between points in time and space, surrounded by a sea of emptiness.  If you wish to use the library, simply stand between the two mahogany bookshelves on the wall opposite this mirror and say, Illiath—that’s the name of the island.  A portal will appear before you.  Step through and you will be there.

Keep its existence secret, Ashel.  Even from the king.  It contains more than you can imagine.  You must study diligently if you are to be ready for the Lost One when he returns, but be careful not to absorb too much too fast, lest you burn yourself out.  Do not be surprised if you see me when you go to the tower.  Because of its unique location, I can exist there as I did here.”  Elkar’s image wavered.  “I must go now, Ashel.  Farewell, and remember, time is an illusion.  Death is neither the end nor the beginning.  Take nothing for granted.  All that you can know for certain is that you can know nothing for certain.”  And with that, he disappeared.

***

The following morning, Andaris stood and made his bleary-eyed way to the stables, being careful not to wake Gaven or Jade, the latter of whom had curled up between them at some point during the night.  The stable boy gave him an odd look when he asked him to saddle Del.  To allay his curiosity, Andaris flipped him a couple of coppers.

The ride to the Lake of the Pines should have been very enjoyable.  Everything looked fresh and new.  Birds sang from the branches, flitting with playful abandon through the crisp blue of the sky, reveling in the brightly blooming dawn and sharp, sun-filled air.

Should have been very enjoyable, but wasn’t.  Andaris rode with a hanging head, completely oblivious. 
I promised her,
he kept telling himself.  He hadn’t had the heart to say goodbye to his friends in person, so he’d written each a short letter of explanation, promising to return soon for a visit.

When he reached the lake, he dismounted and walked with mechanical deliberateness to the water’s edge, noting that, except for a few chunks here and there, all of the ice had melted.  When he submerged his head, he scarcely felt the cold, scarcely felt anything. 
Marla.  It is Andaris.  I have returned.

He repeated the call several times, pulled out his head and, with his back propped against a pine tree, began to towel dry his hair.  He waited about half an hour and tried again.  But no matter how fervent his calls, the water remained unbroken by the stunning torso of Marla the mermaid. 
Where is she?
he wondered, scanning the surface with his eyes.  Unsure what to make of her tardiness, he walked back to the tree and sat down, feeling strangely empty inside.

By the time the sun was directly overhead, he decided he had waited long enough.  He was puzzled, and even somewhat troubled by Marla’s absence, yet couldn’t help but feel somewhat relieved, as well.  He just hoped she was all right.  Climbing back onto Del, he thought about what this meant.  As far as he was concerned, he was no longer obligated to her.  He had fulfilled his end of the agreement.  She had simply not shown.

As Andaris wheeled Del around and headed back towards the castle, a figure rose from the bottom of the lake.  Marla drifted just below the surface, sapphire tears leaving streaks in the water.  She’d been watching the entire time.  Even though she knew her uncle would not allow Andaris to live with her, she’d come to see if he would keep his promise.  Every moment he’d waited had been a torment for her.  Once, when he’d checked his scale to make certain it still glowed, she had nearly lost control and gone to him.  At least he had come as he’d said he would.  That proved he loved her. 
Goodbye,
she thought. 
Until next time….

Del was frisky on the ride back, straining against his bridle.  It had been a long wait, and he had been very patient, so Andaris leaned low, snapped the reigns, and squeezed his legs together.  Del nodded his head in acknowledgment, whinnied once, and broke into a gallop.

The passing terrain soothed Andaris’ mind, awakening his senses to the world around him.  He had to smile.  It was going to be a beautiful day, like one of those perfect spring days from childhood, filled with magic and music and laughter.  The war was over and he was free.  Perhaps now, at last, he could concentrate on finding his way home.

When Andaris got back to the castle, Gaven was still snoring away beneath the banquet table.  Jade, on the other hand, was nowhere to be seen.  Andaris tiptoed past the big man and headed up the stairs to his room.  If Gaven wanted to slumber beneath banquet tables, or anywhere else for that matter, it was his business.  What Andaris needed, however, was a down-filled mattress and a big fluffy pillow.

There were few people roaming the halls.  He saw an old woman wearing what could have passed for a wedding dress, then later a young man with slick black hair and pale skin carrying a tray of roast beef sandwiches.

Last night the place had been bursting at the seams with raucous celebration, full of people caught up in the passion of the moment.  Now the halls stood all but vacant.  The Sokerran army numbered in excess of twenty thousand, a small portion of which was made up of troops from Nelvin and Mindere.  Andaris supposed most of them had been given bunks in the barracks, because they certainly weren’t here.  Either that, or they were all still asleep.

Rogar was catching her breath.  There was a subdued feeling in the air, like one might experience at a gathering after a funeral.  Wounds were being licked.  Damage was being accessed.  It would take some time to come to terms with what they had lost, and even longer to rebuild.  News between Rogar and Sokerra traveled slowly, even news of this magnitude.  It would be several days before Sokerra learned of their victory, and weeks for Rogar’s displaced citizenry to return to their homes.

Andaris went to his room, closed the drapes, climbed into bed, and fell asleep.  He’d just drifted off, when he heard a sharp tapping at his door.  He was having a very pleasant dream, so resisted coming fully conscious. 

***

His mother was baking a linberry pie while he and his father shot marbles on the floor, a game they often played while waiting for dinner.  It was their time to bond, seeing how shooting marbles was about the only thing, aside from eating, in which they shared a common interest.

***

“Who is it?” Andaris finally asked, unable to keep the irritation from his voice.

There was a pause and then a muffled, “It’s me, Ashel, I’m sorry if I’ve disturbed you.  I can come back later if you like.”

Andaris sat up and rubbed his eyes, feeling as if he’d been asleep for days.  “No… that’s all right.  Now that I’m awake, you might as well come in.”

Ashel opened the door, walked inside the room, shut the door, and turned to face the bed.

“So,” Andaris asked, “to what do I owe this privilege?”

Ashel walked to the bed without answering, his face troubled.

“What is it?” Andaris asked again.

Ashel sat on the corner of the bed, smoothing the creases from the front of his robe with his palms.  “You remember,” he began, “I told you I needed to speak to you about Jade?”

Andaris nodded.  “Yes…I remember.”

Ashel fixed him with his bulging white eyes.

“What?” Andaris asked.  “Tell me.  Has something happened to her?”

“Oh no, nothing like that.  Well…in a matter of speaking, but no.  It’s just that...you know how human she seems sometimes?”

“Yes.  So?”

Ashel took a deep breath, a crooked smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.  “She seems so human, Andaris, because she is.”

For a moment Andaris just stared at him, dumbfounded.  “Human?” he asked.

“Yes, a young woman,” Ashel said.  “Her name is Mandie.  It’s an odd name, I know, but she swears that’s it.  She was transformed many years ago.  Beyond her name, she has almost no memory of her life before, just bits and pieces, fragments within fragments.  She doesn’t know where or even when she is from.  She had been living in the wild when Shamilla took her in, for how long is anyone’s guess.”

“The name Mandie is common in Fairhaven,” Andaris whispered to himself. “A girl?  But...how?  Are you sure? “

Ashel laced his fingers together, looking more like his old self.  “Yes, of course I’m sure, and as I said, we don’t know how.  It could have been many things—a mage she chanced to offend, a curse of which she was unaware.  We just don’t know.”

Andaris felt a sudden weakness.  He heard Ashel’s words, but couldn’t believe them.

“What I do know, Andaris, is that she cares for you a great deal.  Ever since she found me, her one goal was to find you again.  You have been not only her truest companion, but her best friend.  Losing you...she was devastated.”

Andaris stared at his bare feet, feeling numb.  “Sometimes I thought I sensed something…an awareness.  I just always dismissed it as my imagination.”

“Your senses served you well.  Perhaps in the future you should listen to them.”

“Can she be changed back?” Andaris asked.  “Now that you know, can the spell be reversed?”

Ashel sighed.  “I’ve been giving that a lot of thought,” he said.  “Though without knowing who she was before and exactly what was done to her, it would be difficult.  There’s always the chance she could end up deformed, or even dead….

“But,” Andaris said.

“But,” Ashel repeated, “she is adamant that I try, no matter what the risk.  I believe, between my newfound abilities and the energy crystals in Elkar’s study, I can do it.  The trouble is, these crystals are extremely rare, and one of them, the main one I’ll need, is virtually irreplaceable.”

“So?” Andaris asked.  “What’s a crystal next to Jade’s life?”

Ashel held up his hand.  “Naturally, I agree, but you must understand, once it’s used, it becomes useless.  You see, Andaris, I asked Elkar’s spirit if he knew of some way to get you home.  He told me he did.  Unfortunately, the spell to send you home requires the same crystal as the spell to restore Ja…Mandie to her proper form.”