All that Glitters (Stavin DragonBlessed Book 1) (39 page)

"
Inatat, son of Corat, Sixteenth King of Vaskan, came to power upon the death of his father
," Stavin read as he reviewed the beginning of the ancient book. "Well, of course.
The death of King Corat had been long and painful, and the Priests of Eshokanal decreed that his personal servants should be sent with him to the Skyholm. In accordance with the priest's decree, twenty servants of the late king were bound and placed among the timbers—
could that be logs?—
of his pyre.
Didn't they at least kill them first?" he asked, looking at Sharindis with a disturbed expression on his face.

Sharindis shook her head. "Probably not. I've read other histories that mentioned sacrifices like that. Thank the Gods Above the practice ended."

"Gods Below, that's horrible. Actually, I'd expect something like that from the Gods Below. Anyway,
Inatat stood as close to his father's pyre as he dared as lamp oil was poured over the timbers. The muffled cries of the servants
—they were alive—
reached his ears, but not his heart. When the sacred oil had been poured, Devat, High Priest of Eshokanal, handed a torch to Inatat. 'It is your duty and honor, King Inatat, to send your father to Skyholm.' Inatat took the torch and walked sunward around his father's pyre, lighting it at the five sacred points.
It sounds like we inherited the Gods Above and the Gods Below from these people as well as the glyphs."

Sharindis sat back and nodded. "It's possible. However, it's possible that they inherited them from Dandarshandrake or another dragon. Remember, according to Solavan, Scribe of Emperor Helakan Zel'Lastal, Dandarshandrake was supposed to have mentioned the Old Gods in his early decrees to the people of Lux, long before they had formed the empire."

Stavin grunted his agreement. "Even dragons fear the Old Gods," he murmured. "I wonder if—"

"No," Sharindis said in a firm tone. "You are not climbing back up to that cave to ask the dragon if it will tell you of the Old Gods."

"But, Shari, it would only take—"

"No, Stavin," Sharindis said again as she turned toward him. "Dad and the Elders have made the cave off limits to everyone. Gods Below, do you want to risk making the dragon angry? Up until you went up there, everyone just ran away. Now they know what the fear is, and what the pile of gold really is as well. While you were gone there were about fifty boys making plans to go up there and see if they could get dragon scale armor and Dragon's Tongues like yours. It took an official decree from the Council and three examples to get the boys to settle down."

"Examples?" Stavin asked.

Sharindis sighed. "Two boys went together, and Dad and three warriors had to go get them. They caught them halfway up the slope and brought them back bare-butt naked, then set them to hauling water. They were both in their last year, but Dad set them back two years so they could learn how to follow orders."

"You said three."

Now Sharindis looked sad as she replied, "The third one went alone, like you did. His body was found outside the cave. There was no mark on him, and no sign that he actually entered the cave, but that was enough to stop the boys."

"The dragon said it didn't eat humans. It didn't say anything about killing us." Stavin sighed gustily. "I guess I'll just have to be satisfied researching it in the archive."

The winter turned bitter, and everyone turned to quiet, energy-saving pastimes to conserve food and fuel. At Master Kel'Zorgan's insistence, they stopped going to the archive so no charcoal would be used to heat the rooms of boxes. Soon even the classrooms were closed, and the students kept home. It set them back, but the big classrooms took too much charcoal to heat, and were too cold without it.

Stavin and Sharindis spent their days by the one window in the Kel'Aniston house that faced south so Sharindis had enough light to read by. Stavin used her old crystal to help him read the damaged portions of the book of Inatat and copy, while Sharindis used the stronger lens to write down the translation.

The eleven days of the Mid Winter Festival were soon upon them, and Stavin and Shari joined the mourners, remembering their dead for the first five days as tradition decreed. Stavin had a lot of people to remember.

Mid Winter Day dawned clear and cold, but there was no fire in Kavinston. Every fire had been extinguished at mid night, and the hearths and stoves were cleaned to prepare them for the fresh fires of the New Year. No food was served, and only suckling babes were fed at all. Even the livestock was restricted to just water on this day.

Chief Elder Kel'Davin led the Elders Council to the platform in the center of town and looked out over the sea of faces. Dark brown or black clothing wrapped tightly around shivering people was all he saw.

"As is the custom from the time of our ancestors, Mid Winter is when we remember and honor our dead." He pulled a scroll from the pocket of his cloak and began reading.

One by one, the Elders read the Roll-Call of the Honored Dead. Stavin knew every name on those rolls. It had been one of his duties to copy them when the old scrolls had begun to fade.

Elder Kel'Kaffrey, as the most recent addition to the Council, went last, reading the scroll that held the names of the most recently lost warriors, and Stavin couldn't help catching his breath when Cordon's and Ivalin's names were read.

Chief Elder Kel'Davin once again stepped forward and addressed the crowd. "We mourn this day the passing of another year, and the passing of our friends. Remember them with honor." With that he turned and led the Elders from the platform, then everyone returned to their homes.

As the sun went down, the people huddled together for warmth in darkened houses, telling the histories of their families and singing dirges in the dark.

Sunrise was greeted with joy by the people of Kavinston. At every house the youngest child was given the honor of starting the first fire of the New Year. Stavin knelt by the tinder that had been laid on the clean hearth and blew on his fingers to warm them enough to use the flint and steel of the fire starter. Sparks flew, spraying onto the dry grass and twigs, and he blew the flames of a New Year to life, then placed them among the kindling and charcoal of the family fire. Then they changed into their brightest festival garb and the party began.

For five days, the people celebrated the birth of the New Year, and the hope of a bright future. Even the training grounds were empty to let the boys play in the snow.

Soon after Mid Winter Sharindis became ill, and Stavin feared for her life. Sorandis and their parents sat with him while Healer Kel'Kadus was with Sharindis. When the Healer came out of their room, Stavin rushed to face him. "Is she all right? She isn't going to die, is she?" he asked anxiously.

Healer Kel'Kadus laughed merrily. "Of course she's all right, Stavin. She isn't sick—she's pregnant!" Then he stepped forward in concern. “Did he just faint?”

End of Book One

The adventures of Stavin Kel'Aniston will continue in

Traders and Traitors
March 2017.

A U. S. Navy veteran, Loren K. Jones served as a nuclear reactor operator on attack submarines for six years before his honorable discharge in 1986. Loren makes his living as an instrumentation and controls technician, and writes because the stories won't leave him alone until he does.