Part 5 (1/2)
”I cannot tell you where it is because it has veiled itself. It walks unseen through this world. But I can tell you where you can find Gerin Atreyano.”
Tyne didn't care much about the man who awakened the demon. Why should he? Did he know what it would do? But the more he thought about it, the more he felt he should be interested in this man. If he did call the thing, maybe he can tell me how to find it. If he won't help me willingly, I'll make him tell me. Once I understand the stone, he won't be able to keep from me what I want. And when I have what I need, I'll kill him. If he called the demon, he'll feel my wrath. And anyone who helped him.
”Who is this Gerin Atreyano, and where can I find him?”
”He is the King of Khedesh,” said the stranger. ”He is also a wizard, a devious and manipulative creature who is said to have killed his own father to take the throne. He used his magic to awaken the Vanil. You would do all of Osseria a service by eliminating his pernicious influence.”
”A king! How do you expect me to kill a king! You must be mad!”
”You have the power to kill a king, or make him bend his knee to you,” the stranger said. ”I told you, I know what it is you found, and I also know that you have no idea what it is or how to use it. That is how I can help you.”
Tyne's hand reflexively fell to the stone to protect it. ”I won't give it to you if that's what you're thinking. Not even for a second.”
A thin, cold smile touched the stranger's mouth. ”I have no need to touch it. I've already explained that its power is of no value to me. But it is of great value to a creature such as yourself.”
Tyne didn't much like being called a creature, but he also didn't think now was the time to argue the point. ”What it is then?”
”It is called the Commanding Stone. It is ancient beyond measure, older even than the hills the Vanil raised over their sacred chambers. I will not bore you with a lengthy recounting of its history. None of it matters now. What does matter is that you can use the Stone to summon and control the dragons of which you dream.”
Tyne was startled to realize this being could peer into his sleeping mind. Who knows what a divine being can do? he thought.
”How do I control them? I've dreamed of them, and I can feel a...connection between me and them, something binding us together. But I don't know how to make them do what I want.”
”Are you asking for my help? Do you want me to teach you how to use the Stone?”
”Yes.”
”And in return, will you kill Gerin Atreyano?”
Tyne answered without hesitation. ”He deserves to die for calling the thing that killed my brother. But I'm going to kill the demon, too. Let's just get that out of the way right now.”
”If you feel you must, then I will not interfere.”
Tyne did not like the look on the stranger's face when he spoke. It was what his mama called a knowing look-that the stranger knew something he didn't and was absolutely not going to tell him what it was.
To the Pit with him and his smugness. I don't care. Just so he tells me how to use the Stone. That's all I care about. That's all I need.
”It will be hard to use it, especially at first,” said the stranger. ”It will weaken you, and if you are not cautious, it will kill you.”
”I'll be careful. Just tell me what to do.”
”The connection is not yet strong enough for you to attempt to control the dragons. Keep the Stone with you at all times. Touch it with your flesh as much as you can. That will strengthen the bond. When you are ready to take the next step, I will return.”
”Can't you tell me how to-”
The stranger was gone. One moment he simply...was not.
”To the Pit with him, then,” he murmured. ”I'll keep the Stone close, and if he doesn't come back I'll figure out how to use it without him.”
Images of the Vanil writhing in its death throes filled his thoughts as he started walking. Kill the demon, kill the king who called it, and then...raise an empire from the ashes. One to match-no, to better!-Helca's Empire. I'll be someone to be reckoned with. I already am. That fool who tried to rob me already found that out. His hand dropped to the sword at his side.
No one would ever take from him again. He would make sure of that.
4.
The origins of the Seawall of Istameth were wreathed in myth and legend. The first inhabitants of Istameth, the Persa, who arrived long before the coming of the Pashti, believed the ma.s.sive cliffs facing the Gulf of Gedsuel and the Maurelian Sea had been formed during a t.i.tanic battle between their chief G.o.d and his son, who was attempting to usurp his father's throne. The G.o.d had cursed his son to the everlasting darkness and slain him with a thrust of his spear. The son fell back, and in doing so dragged his sword across the land, cutting away the original coastline and forming the face of the cliffs.
The Pashti held that a land bridge had once connected Istameth to the Pelkland Islands. Because of the constant raids from the Pelklanders, the shamans of the Pashti fas.h.i.+oned a great spell that caused the waters to rise and swallow the land bridge in a terrible tumult, leaving the seawall as an eternal sign of warning to the Pelklanders to leave the sh.o.r.es unmolested.
The Raimen who later conquered the Pashti believed that a promontory had thrust into the sea from where the cliffs now stood. The promontory was the home to a wicked people who wors.h.i.+pped demons to whom they sacrificed outsiders. They raided villages and towns, clad in black and wearing fearsome masks. They kidnapped men for their altars and to serve as slaves, and virgins to be wed to their leaders. Some of the Raimen villages sent armed parties onto the promontory to retrieve their lost kin and punish their kidnappers, but none ever returned.
One of the wicked people's raiding parties took a priest of Paerendras and made him a slave on their sh.o.r.es, tending to the fis.h.i.+ng nets placed along the rocky shoals of the promontory. After witnessing the rape of a young Raimen girl by a gang of men who tossed her screaming onto a raging bonfire when they were finished with her, the priest bent all his will toward the sea G.o.d and beseeched him to punish these people for their wicked deeds, even if it meant his own death.
Paerendras heard the priest and answered his prayer. He raised a mighty wave above the promontory, which drowned the wicked people and sank the promontory into the sea. No trace of the people or their civilization remained. Even their name was forgotten, erased by the sea G.o.d's curse.
”And your sister Reshel told you all these tales?” asked Laysa.
”She did indeed,” said Therain Atreyano. ”She loved to read about things like that-she practically lived in the castle library, her nose buried in some old book or another. And she was gifted in telling them. Far more so than I am.”
”I like those stories, the way they try to explain the world around us. But they can't all be true. Which one are we to believe?” she asked with a sly grin.
Therain knew she was teasing him. It was one of the things he loved most about his new bride-how playful she was.
”Since we are the proud descendants of the Raimen, I believe it's our duty to believe that particular tale,” he said with mock solemnity.
”Yes, but if everyone died, how do we know what the priest did?”
He rolled his eyes. ”My wife the heretic and doubter. Best be careful what you say, else you'll find the ghost of Khedesh himself haunting you, sending you foul dreams of drowned lands, wicked masked riders, and a painful nighttime indigestion.”
”Ah, but how would I tell the haunting of Khedesh from the meals concocted by our stalwart company of soldiers?”
”You can't, which means the haunting may have already started.”
She laughed, which made him smile. He wanted to reach out and take her hand, but could not. He needed to grip the reins of his horse with the only hand he had. He glanced down at the stump of his left arm, concealed beneath a decorative steel and leather cap. There were times he almost forgot about his maimed arm. Then there were times, like this, when he was acutely, painfully, aware of it.
”We're near the Seawall now?” she asked.
Self-conscious about the stump of his arm, Therain gestured to the left with a tilt of his head rather than pointing. ”To the northeast, maybe five miles or so. You can't see it from here because of the woods, but the ground starts to rise the closer it gets to the coast, until suddenly it all just drops straight down into the sea.”
She gave him an earnest look from beneath the hood of her riding cloak. ”I hope we'll be able to see it. Please?”
Therain craned his neck to look at Captain Rundgar, riding a few paces behind him. ”Captain, I do believe we'll take a minor detour to the coast.”
His broad face as expressionless as stone, the captain said, ”As you wish, my lord.”
Therain, Laysa, and the soldiers with them adjusted their course. They rode in silence for a while, Laysa by his side. He was enjoying himself immensely. He had never expected to find married life so...comfortable. So easy, as if he'd been missing a part of his life and only recognized its absence after he'd found it. Of course Laysa has everything to do with that. Father picked well when he made these arrangements, though the G.o.ds know why he never did anything about it. Before Abran's death, he'd made overtures to the Oldanns of Rentioch, but a formal engagement had never been made. Of course, there'd been an invasion to deal with.