The Eight Walls of Rogar: An Epic Fantasy Adventure Series! (The Lost Kingdoms of Laotswend Trilogy--Book One) (7 page)

“Stop it!” Trilla demanded.  “Can you two not go even one day without bickering like children?”

Ashel’s eyes flashed, his spine stiffening.  He opened his mouth to respond, then apparently thought better of it, and shut it again.  After a moment, he cleared his throat and, with an expression that was as prideful as it was indignant, gave her a curt nod.  “Now, as I was saying, Andaris, before I was
interrupted
, I do not believe you are insane.”

“Well, that’s a comfort,” Andaris told him.  “Then what
is
happening?”

Ashel leaned forward and laced his fingers together.  “As I see it, there are three possibilities.  Either you have forgotten who you are, you are lying to us, or you have entered into our world through a temporal and or dimensional portal.  Let it be noted that I consider the third possibility to be highly unlikely.”

“A temporal or what?” Andaris asked.

“A por…tal,” Ashel repeated, over enunciating each syllable as if speaking to a child.  “A window between two points, two times, and or two worlds.”

Andaris shook his head.  “Sounds like something out of a storybook.”

Ashel arched an eyebrow at him.  “You’re not saying that you don’t believe in the existence of portals, are you?”

“Well, I don’t really know.  So much has happened…it’s difficult to know what to think.  But yes, I suppose even with everything I’ve seen, I still have a hard time believing in magic.”

Ashel’s eyes widened.  “You’re not actually suggesting that magic, one of the most fundamental forces in the universe, doesn’t exist?”

Andaris nodded, trying his best to look meek.

Ashel stood up.  “I take it back,” he declared.  “He is mad!”  Trilla started to say something in Andaris’ defense, but Ashel waved her off.  “This,” he said, raising his right hand above his head, “is magic!”

A small sphere of fire materialized above Ashel’s open palm.  It floated there for several seconds, growing and shrinking.  Then he shouted, “Akna vei!” and flung it at a nearby tree.  It hit with a sharp crack, splitting the trunk in two and engulfing the tree in flames.  A second sphere immediately followed the first, except this one was blue-white, glinting like liquid silver, elongating until it became teardrop shaped.  When it hit the tree, the silver spread out, extinguishing the flames and encasing both trunk and branches in a thick layer of ice.  Next, with a low rumbling, came a sphere of black.  It flew through the air as though shot from a cannon, striking with such force that the tree shattered, exploding outward into thousands of tiny pieces.

Andaris covered his face with his hands as the ice shards came hurtling towards him, certain he was about to be ripped to shreds.  At the last moment, Ashel waved his arms and halted the pieces in midair, then waved them again and sent them flying back together in a blur.  There was a violent gust of wind accompanied by a bright flash of light.  Andaris shut his eyes against the light.  When he opened them, the tree was once again whole and undamaged.

Ashel wobbled, almost fell and, with a feverish gleam in his eyes, spun to face Andaris.  “That, my ignorant friend,” he panted, “is magic!”

Andaris took a step back, fighting the urge to run.

“Good job, oh
mighty
wizard,” Gaven said.  “Look, you’ve terrified him.  Don’t you worry, Andaris, he’s all smoke and mirrors.  You were never in any danger.”

“You mean…it wasn’t real?” Andaris asked.

“That’s right,” Gaven explained.  “It was all an illusion.  Nothing that you just saw actually happened.”

“Not in the strictest sense,” Ashel confessed.  “But it seemed real, didn’t it?  That’s the main thing.  You smelled the fire.  You felt the heat.”

A smile tugged at the corner of Andaris’ mouth.  He felt like a child after his first visit to a carnival.  “Yes, yes I did,” he agreed.  “And it was wonderful.”

“You see, Gaven,” Ashel said, looking very pleased with himself, “some people appreciate my abilities.”

“I’ll admit it’s impressive when you play with your balls,” teased Gaven, his smile large and smarmy.  “You just have to be careful not to overdue it, else you’re laid up for days, having to be nursed like a wee babe.”

“Not all my magic is illusory in nature,” Ashel warned.  The two men glowered at one another, and then in unison turned to face Trilla.  She put her hands on her hips, a storm brewing in her eyes.  They looked down, cowed by her anger.

She’s a feisty one
, Andaris thought.  She couldn’t weigh much more than a hundred pounds, and yet clearly neither of them wanted to cross her.

When they were once again seated around the fire, Andaris coughed into his hand and said, “By the time I found my way out of the caverns, everything had changed, even the stars.  Could there have been a portal in one of the caves?”

“Certainly a possibility,” Ashel answered, his expression of cool superiority returning.  “As far as portals go, one place is as likely as another.  The location is the prerogative of whomever or
whatever
put it there.”

“If I did get here through a portal, how do I get back?  How do I get home?”

“It’s difficult to say with any degree of certainty.  Some portals close after a single use, never to reopen again.  Some only open from one direction.  Some are created, while others occur naturally.  It’s possible you could find the answers you seek in Rogar.  There is one there who might be willing to help, should he find you worthy.  But even if he doesn’t, the archives beneath the castle are extensive.  Many books have been written about portals over the centuries, so if by some bizarre act of fate your people did come from here, you might be able to find some mention of them.  You can trace certain names back thousands of years.”

“That’s where we’re headed,” Trilla said.  “Rogar Castle—our home.  It will be a long and difficult journey, perhaps even perilous at times, though we cannot let that deter us.  King Laris has sent out a plea requesting aid.  Our worst fears, it seems, have been realized.  The Lost One and his army of shapelings are massing again, after more than two hundred years of peace, preparing to march against Rogar’s western border.  You see, Andaris, Rogar guards the boundary between the four civilized kingdoms and the Great Waste.”  Her eyes shone with pride, adding conviction to her words.  “No force has ever breached the castle’s inner gates, yet it has never faced an army as great as the one moving against it now.  It is an ancient evil Rogar stands against, the same evil that made the construction of the
Eight Walls
necessary more than a thousand years ago.”

Andaris found himself becoming enthralled by her, by the soft lilt of her voice, and full red lips. 
What would it be like to kiss those lips?
 
Stop it,
he thought, feeling contemptible. 
This is neither the time nor the place.

“Throughout history,” she continued, “we have beaten back the hordes of the Lost One.  Each time the evil sprouts anew, threatening us again, but this time the long peace has made us complacent.  There are scarce few who were alive during the Battle of the Reckoning, and even fewer who can be of any help to us now.  We are headed home because we know if we are to prevail, Rogar must stand.  The reports say the scourge gathering in the Waste is immense, many times the number at the castle.  The men there are strong and true, most possessing the blood of kings, direct descendents of the original Alderi Shune, like Gaven here.”

Gaven swelled with the compliment, held eye contact with Trilla for a moment, then became self-conscious and looked away.

“But it isn’t enough,” she said, shaking her head.  “The other kingdoms must come to bolster our numbers, or I fear all will be lost.”

The hushed pause that followed was filled by Gaven’s deep voice.  “If Rogar were to fall,” he said, “the enemy would sweep across the remaining kingdoms like a tide.”

Trilla sighed, milk-white bosoms pressing against the blue silk of her dress.  “In Rogar, there is a man, a magic user, who might be able to help you.  His name is Elkar.”  She turned to Ashel.  “I assume he is who you meant?”

Ashel nodded, picking up where she’d left off.  “He is very old, and among the most venerable in Rogar.  He was at the Battle of the Reckoning, and at the time wasn’t much older than we are now, but even then his power was legendary.  Without him, that battle, upon which hung the fate of the realm and possibly even the world, would have been lost.  Elkar grows weaker by the year, though is still the strongest of his order.  His magic sustains him.  He is a great man.”

“And kind,” said Trilla.  “I studied with him for several years to develop my healing arts, and never did I have a more patient instructor.”

“You?” Andaris asked.

“Oh, I’m afraid it’s quite true,” the mage assured him, envy flashing across the surface of his serenity.  “You see, Trilla here is a princess.”

“She certainly looks like a princess,” Andaris said softly.

Jade laid her head on his arm and whined.

“Uh, what I mean to say is,” he backpedaled, cheeks burning with embarrassment, “whenever you hear of princesses in stories, they always have blue eyes and blonde hair.”

“Yes, of course,” said Ashel.

Andaris could tell he saw right through him.  He only hoped Trilla wasn’t as astute.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Trilla said.

“You do?”

“Yes, you’re no doubt wondering what we are doing so far from home.”

“Oh, well…yes,” he said, relieved.  “I suppose I was.”

  She took a deep breath.  “I’m almost ashamed to tell you.  You see, a year ago my father tried to force me to marry against my will, so I ran away.  My father’s not a bad man,” she added, seeing Andaris’ look of concern.  “He truly believed he was doing what was best for both me and Rogar, but I just couldn’t bear it…so I escaped!”

Andaris grinned at her.  Her eyes lit with mischief and she grinned back.  He felt a thrill course up his spine. 
Easy
, he thought
,
she’s just a girl.  Yeah, just a girl princess out of a fairytale.

“We’ve been gone ever since,” she said with a sigh.

“We?” he asked.

She smiled lovingly at Gaven and Ashel.  “They helped me,” she explained.  “The three of us have been friends since we were little.  They couldn’t stand to see me so unhappy, any more than I could stand to be so unhappy.”

Now Andaris understood, seeing the deep affection in their eyes, what kept the two men from killing one another.  They absolutely adored her—both of them.

“So, here we are,” she concluded, putting on a brave face, “on our way back.  We’ve decided, whatever the punishment, we will face it.  We cannot ignore my father’s plea for help.”

Ashel pointed at Andaris in an accusatory manner.  “Quite a situation you find yourself in, isn’t it, Mr. Rocaren?”

“So this Elkar,” Andaris said, feeling overwhelmed, “you really believe he can help me?”

“Perhaps,” answered Ashel.  “Perhaps not.  I can promise nothing.”

“Isn’t Stonegarden on the way to Rogar?” Andaris asked.  “I was hoping to talk with Shamilla’s friend, Lindolin, at least to tell him what happened.  I’d hate for him to go calling on Shamilla, only to find his grave, with no one to explain things to him.”

“No, I’m afraid it’s not,” Trilla said, sounding sympathetic.  “In fact, from where we are now, it’s in the exact opposite direction, by at least a day’s walk.  You must have been quite turned around if that’s where you were headed when you found us.  Here, look at the map.”  His eyes followed her finger as it traced slowly from right to left.  “Stonegarden is here, we’re roughly here, and Rogar is way over here to the west, through the dense forest and marshlands of Nelvin, across the rolling hills of Mindere and open grasslands of Sokerra, all the way on the other side of the Onarri Mountains.  You know, Andaris, I can understand you wanting to find Shamilla’s friend.  I really can.  I commend you for the sentiment.  Your heart’s in the right place, but we simply don’t have the time.  If you go, you’ll have to go alone, which I really don’t think would be wise.”

She paused, eyes narrowed in thought, smoothed the front of her dress with her palms, and said, “As you have already begun to discover, there are many dangers in this part of the world that can prove deadly to someone who isn’t familiar with them, things much worse than what you have encountered thus far.  You have been very fortunate, Andaris.”

“I for one would be glad for the extra company,” Gaven declared.  “Safety in numbers and all that.  After all, you must be fairly handy with that crossbow to have dispatched two krikkens.”

Andaris smiled at the compliment, though suspected Gaven was just stroking his ego.  “Luck, I assure you.  To be honest, I’d never used it before.”

Trilla placed her hand on his knee.  He inhaled sharply, every nerve in his body awaking to her touch.  “I truly believe you are more likely to find what you seek in Rogar,” she said, looking him in the eyes.  “As you saw, Stonegarden is a speck on the map by comparison.”  With her other hand, she reached around and patted him on the back.  “I’ll tell you what, if I’m wrong and for some reason Elkar is unable to help you, then I’ll provide an escort for you to Stonegarden, or even back to the caverns.  Once we get home, I think you’ll find I’m a good person to know.  So…what do you say?”