The Exodus Sagas: Book III - Of Ghosts And Mountains (54 page)

“So I heard four in the messages, one being dead, who are these four then?”

“Diamond of the Mountain, Emerald of the Ocean, Ruby of the Sea, and Silk of the River. Quadruplets, all brown hair and brown eyes, three boys, and Silk is the sister. I had them since shortly after birth, ingenious of me, I might add. Once you see the small moles and scars, you will know who is who. Took me years.”

“Impressive.” Phillip could barely tell that Silk of the River was a girl, they were all identical in hair, eyes, skin, and motion. Only the girl was a bit smaller and had some feminine curves that she tried to hide.

“Speaking of, Diamond, did you get the woman responsible for these little hit and run attacks upon us?”

Diamond of the Mountain shook his head.

“No? She is well trained this Kivanite woman.”

Diamond unfolded a dagger from a black cloth, his curved dagger he found on the hall floor, still red with the womans’ blood. “I will track her, Prince Johnas. It will be easy with this.”

“Excellent, at least we have something.” Johnas nodded back.

“They can track with just the blood? I could use those skills here indeed.” Phillip watched as the black robed assassins moved about the room, sharpened blades, all in silence.

“Silk and Diamond will be staying here, with you. My gift. However, Ruby and Emerald will be travelling to Devonmir. Meet with Cadius and Chalas there, meet with the old sorcerer lords, and send me word of what will need to be done to keep the peace and prosperity.” Johnas stood, having no further business in Harlaheim that he could think of.

“My Patriarch, my Prince, it has been a pleasure. I will knight many loyal blades, kill our enemies, and see Harlaheim to better days. Then, to Willborne.” Phillip put his crown back upon his head, stepped over the blood pools on the floor, and walked Prince Johnas out of L’Herrim.

“Remember to announce my position as regent of Harlaheim, the papers are already signed and in the vaults. That peace agreement explains my need for soldiers, make that public as well. Send money every month, I have taken as much as the ship will hold for now.” The Prince of Valhirst walked down the halls, receiving bows and curtsies just as King Phillip did. His king, his man, so his kingdom.

“The mess in the upper hall, will…”

“Yes, the eight will have your agents take care of the bodies. You will meet your contacts and branded members soon, but you only have twenty or so in the city. Harlaheim has been a sorespot for me, here in the capital, and in Devonmir. You have your work cut out for you, I expect great things, King Phillip.” Johnas turned and embraced him having seen his men from Chazzrynn waiting for him at the western gates to L’Herrim Castle.

“Safe journey, good conquest, and next I hear from you it will be
King
Johnas Valhera of Chazzrynn, no?” Phillip waved.

“Yes, yes indeed it will.” Johnas walked with his armed guards and soldiers to the docks and piers that had the Morninghawk and another five thousand soldiers that would be returning to Valhirst with him. He breathed in deep the fresh salty air, people waving and bowing as he passed. Here he was already regal and noble beyond that of an ordinary man. In Chazzrynn, he knew, he had some wars to wage and men to kill to achieve that. Johnas smiled more at the thought of it. Despite some loose ends here, this felt more like his seat than in Chazzrynn, it felt like victory. The Prince of Valhirst nodded to the captain, and boarded the Morninghawk, destined for home.

Lavress III:IV

Temple of the Whitemoon, Central Chazzrynn

Liogan Andellis was in a daze. The grass moved and spoke to him, the trees whispered his name, naked dryads with perky breasts and leaves in their hair snickered at him. Everything moved, the touch of air made his entire body tingle. He stumbled, the stones outside moved right in front of him. “Hello there, smooth white stones, hello.”

Hello Liogan

“The stones talk too, what about the trees?”

We hear you, can you hear us?

“Yes, banyans, you all hear me. This is like a dream.”

He wandered the grove, talking, touching, sitting, standing, and meandering in a newfound world of pleasure and mystery.

“How long will this last, the king---“

“I told you, no interfering. If it is Her will, he will go to his king and save him. Too much time fighting the wicked and being surrounded by humans has dulled your sense of her mystery, Lavress. Your faith is not what it likely was when you were taken by the Hedim Anah.” Grnikol stood outside the stairs, next to the deadly elven hunter, watching this young boy with the gift of the Goddess.

“Time is precious, this kingdom is in great danger. The men who rule Chazzrynn will not survive what I fear brews in the west. Eliah Shendrynn, in league with Salah Cam, the ogre of Avegarne and the trolls of Mun Parr, it is a force that a kingdom without a king could not stop. This Johnas Valhera, he plots from the east and has the kings’ son captive. Were the king to die, all of Chazzrynn may fall from our lack of action.” Lavress stewed, will or no will, he still wished to do what could be done to stop his enemies.

“Perhaps the Goddess sees what you cannot, what no one can. The kingdoms of men are likely not her concern as much as the preservation of life. Do not judge or love by titles, names, or words. I am an ogre, cast out due to my size and raised by the temple, but still an ogre. Do you think me an enemy?” Grnikol stood, spear of twisted and enchanted wood secure in his hands, resting upon it as he watched Liogan dance and frolick in the grass.

“Of course not. You are the guardian and protector of Princess Ramaya-nun, of her temple, and of all within.”

“And all that was given to me was Her will, not my doing. Great things come from patience, men think great things come from destruction, conquest, and the rush of word and blade over others. That is why they live short lives of a most meaningless existence. They have forgotten Her, and for the most part, have forgotten her children. Alden, who gave his wings and blood to them on the earth, is the only one they still pay any mind to. Is that what it takes? For men to worship and believe, they need to see and see with blood and with their own eyes. Even then, they will eventually twist the faith, forget, and shed blood of innocents in the name of their worship. It is not what the Carician Gods of the Whitemoon set out to achieve for the world, for it to survive the dark father. Men are corrupt, and you may learn that in the most painful way, Lavress Tilaniun.” Grnikol watched as Liogan climbed the hill, twirling and touching everything, then he stopped and stared, frozen. Grnikol turned and walked down the stairs.

“But not this morning, Grnikol, not today.” Lavress smiled and stared at the wonder of Liogan and his behavior.

Liogan crawled like an animal on the hunt, closer to the top of the hill he crept. Peeking, then ducking, then peering over, he spotted the tents in the distance. Curious, he ran closer, hiding behind each tree and stone. The horses looked at him, and he to them.

“Magnificent stallion, who lives here?”

The men that ride us, the king’s men. What are you doing?

“I am hunting, what should I be doing?”

Your king is dying, I think they wait for someone to heal him.

“Where? I might know someone.”

In the big white and blue tent, the one with the falcon flags.

“Thank you great beast, I will see what I can do for you.”

Liogan crept, on all fours, to the tent with the pictures of falcons that moved when the wind told them to move. Men moved out of his way, a pretty robed lady in black waved her hand and they listened. She opened the flap for him, and in he went. Marcus shook his head and looked to the grass then began to pray quietly to Alden.

There was a man Liogan recognized, gray and black trimmed beard, round old face and very little hair on top of it. He was pale, peaceful, dressed in nice clothing, except for his chest and arm that had white cloths and red stains. He sniffed, the arm smelled bad, so did the shoulder and his chest. The man was barely breathing, but his eyes opened.

“
Young…Liogan…Andellis…you look different…what…is…it? Tell…your…king.”
He could barely see, hardly talk, and this young boy of Southwind had a golden glow around him. He knew he was dying, or already dead perhaps.

“You smell sick, what is your name?”

“
I am…Mikhail…Salganat…your…king.”

“I can make you better, but you have to promise me something first.” Liogan sat, like a dog, his tail would wag were he to have one.

Lavress stood outside the tent, next to Aelaine and the Chancellor, fifty men gathered close.

“What is he doing? He is like an animal in there, on the floor, licking things. What did they do to him?” She was angry, nervous, the king had stopped breathing twice this morning, only to resume with much blood in his coughs. The silent men, some of Vallakazz, some Southwind, yet all of Chazzrynn, watched with disapproving eyes.

“I have no control over the will of Seirena or her priests. We cannot interfere.” Lavress was calm, patient, standing in front of the flaps of the tent like a guardian himself.

“He is asking strange questions, like it is not him. Can this be hurried?” Father Marcus was frustrated, yet not as much as Aelaine.

“No, it cannot.”

“
I…will…promise to forget…this place…and remember…to…honor…God more…often…yes.”
Mikhail was fading.

“And, give Liogan,
that’s me of course
, a knighthood and let him go with Lavress Tilaniun wherever he wants.” Liogan scratched in various places that a grown man would refrain from scratching in front of a king.

“
I promise…to…ahhh..uhhh…eh
…” Mikhail’s eyes closed, his last breath gave out.

“Then may you, Mikhail Salganat, have all that I have inside me, I heal your injuries and infections, and hold you to your words. Do not forget what I have shown you, do not forget to give my children honor!” The voice was not his own, his hand touched the king’s shoulder, golden light brighter than the sun flashed.

“That
was not
Liogan’s voice, that was a
woman’s
voice! Who is in there with our
king
!?” Aelaine fought to get in, Lavress would not let her pass. Marcus Mederris stood with him.

“Stop, Lady of Lazlette, please. We cannot interfere.” He restrained her arms, shielded her eyes, he knew that voice and that glow, and who was truly in there.

The soldiers were divided, they wanted to see and help Aelaine, yet they were afraid to disrupt whatever was happening. Then they heard it, loud and clear after the stange glow faded, laughter. Jovial, sincere, laughter rose in the tent from their king and Liogan Andellis.

Lavress let go of the Lady of Vallakazz, let the men pass him by, it was their moment, not his. He stood in the flaps of the tent, watching the soldiers crowd around Mikhail. His bandages were removed, the wound never was if one were to look. Marcus Mederris saw the flush and full face of his king and hit his knees, feathered cross in hand. Aelaine wept, standing as the king stood before her, her hands over her mouth, fingers trembling. Liogan was laughing, Mikhail was laughing, though they knew not why.

“Lady Aelaine, Chancellor Marcus, Liogan Andellis, I thank you all and all of you fine men of Chazzrynn. I could not be more blessed to have such loyalty and love in my kingdom. Now, now that I feel well enough for my armor, where is the army?” Mikhail did indeed look healthier than he had appeared in a decade.

“In Southwind your majesty, they await orders, or our return.” Chancellor Marcus, still on his knees, gave the update.

“And the battle there, you were victorious I recall. Where is that elf, Lavress Tilaniun? Ah, hiding outside the tent I see. Come in my brave elven warrior, come in.”

“Your highness, glad to see you alive and well.” Lavress bowed.

“Much thanks to you. I am indebted to you and your order, whoever they are. I cannot recall much, but that I know.” He smiled to the savage elf.

“I am honored only that it succeeded, and that you are well, your majesty.” Lavress smiled to Liogan, knowing it was him that truly saved the king, though neither of them would remember much of it.

“Now, what news of my son? How goes the siege in Valhirst?”

That decade of refreshing vigor faded, Mikhail read the faces of Aelaine and Lavress. No one else made comment, just looked to one another as if someone else had the answer. The Lady of Lazlette and the hunter of the Hedim Anah just lowered their heads, trying to remain still. Without words, they gave away to the king that there was something they did not want to say, eyes they did not want to meet his on this subject, and Mikhail sat back down.

“Tell me. Tell me what has happened to my only son.”

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The rock hit him in the chest this time.
Clack, clack, clack
.

Another, this boy was ruthless, it hit the leg.
Clack, clack
.

“You are not much of a prince now. I think you are good target practice for stones though.” Oggidan had been sent by Vermillion of the South to keep an eye on the prisoners, Prince Bryant Salganat most of all.