Saturday, October 25, 2008


CHAPTER THREE

“Some ancient historians believed they were the
offspring of humans and monsters.”
- the Venerable Iglasalan




I was much more popular after that day, with a wide variety of people. Mother Cenefra never mentioned anything again, but somehow Bernall was no longer my equal in the group. He was still her other favorite, but I had gained a new stature in her sight. No matter how hard he tried to gain her attention, she only spoke to him at her wish. She still smiled at him, but not with the same sparkle as before.

Also, Captain Radamant conversed with me the very next day. I was studying the forested coastline we were passing – gigantic dead logs like columns for a giant’s home were scattered over the beaches - and before I was aware of it, he was standing next to me.

“When you shouted at my victory, I thought of my son and how old he would be.”

“It was a stirring sight, Captain. I have been in one battle, but never have I seen a real duel. Is your son back at home? With your kin?” I had not heard “would be” because I was quite nervous by his presence.

“Yes, in a way. I was married many years ago to a beautiful woman. I loved no other as I loved her. After a year of marriage, she was with child and about to give birth. She started to run a very high fever and the child began fighting to leave the safety of her womb. She died giving birth to him, a slight smile on her lips when I kissed her for the last time. My son died three days later, and I buried him next to her beneath a huge tree in the yard of my ancestral home. I packed some clothing and joined the Sacred Fleet. A ship has been my home for over twenty years.”

“That is very sad, sir. I wish I could say more than that. At least they are with Our Gracious Lady. I imagine the heartache never really leaves one. Do you ever go back and pay honor to them at the graves?”

He slowly strolled away. “My sister runs the estate. I have never crossed the threshold after the burial. But I can see it from the ocean.”

And, strangely enough, old Broken Nose practically adopted me as his long lost nephew or something like that. I knew it was because I never mentioned his part in my venture
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into Labarna despite being questioned by the marines a few times that bizarre day. He told me his name, Dizil, but it was not his “real name” because he had killed three or four men in various port cities when he was young. He made sure I ate better than the other novices and gave me a better blanket. Dizil would also take time out from his day to regale me and Cumall about his knowledge of the ocean, as well as to recite wonderfully gory tales of pirates and tantalizing immoral tavern maids and haunted ships manned by crews of lost spirits doomed forever to wander the seas.

Not surprisingly, I was held in higher esteem by my fellow novices and novitiates. I was not an aristocrat but yet I was brave and did what many others had dreamed of doing. Following Father’s example, I often shared my extra food with others and asked nothing in return. If the Lady of Eldin ever did make it to the Blessed Isles, I was counting on having a few friends already there when I landed. Cumall gloried in this attention for it made him seem more important. Everyone knew that we were already good comrades and he almost began to act as my handler. I avoided Bernall’s aristocratic friends without rushing away from them. I think some of them secretly admired me, but they had already cast their lot in with Bernall, and I was but a poor farm boy anyway.

++++++

As we sailed farther North, the weather became warmer and the lands were even more fertile than Labarna. Watch towers were a common site, protected by Imperial guards who would send out a trumpet call to hail us and ask us how we were faring. Our reply was always a brisk volley of notes signifying all was well.

Rotund merchant ships hugging the coast were a daily sight. Loaded down with foodstuffs or with manufactured goods, I was gaining a greater appreciation for the wealth of the Empire. The merchants were glad to see us, and Great Mother Cenefra would sometimes personally bless them as they sailed by. If not her, there was always one of her Sisters to perform the ritual.

Captain Radamant explained the warmer weather conditions to me. “The world is a sphere just as the Moon is, made in its image of perfection. There is greater warmth as we head toward the Great Middle, in my layman’s opinion, because the Goddess Moon has her divine sanctuary located in the middle of the Moon. There must be greater warmth in the middle with such a concentration of perpetual glory, and our Great Middle receives this glory and therefore bursts with heat and lush vegetation.”

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I nodded my head politely. I wasn’t even sure what he meant, really.

“Some philosophers on the Island of Men say that the increase in heat is caused because the Great Middle is closer to the middle of the wondrous Moon and its heat. But if that were true, why is the night colder than the day even when the Moon is in Full Sphere?”

I shrugged. “Maybe it has something to do with the Sun. The Sun’s light dominates the day.”

“That has been debated also, but does it make sense that the Sun would cause so much heat when it is so far away and has not the vital powers of the Moon? It does seem to burn as an inferno, but the Sacred Texts say almost nothing about it in the workings of the Heavens. I still lean toward the idea of the Great Lady’s sanctuary being located at the middle of Her silver domain.”

“What about the stars?”

“They seem so small and so far away. The Scroll of Creation says that Our Lady created them for fun, sort of stepping stones through the Heavens, but the text doesn’t say what they are made of. They glow, but is the glow only a cold reflection of the Moon’s light? I’m no Scholar. You will get a chance to think on these things, Skell. I hope you will be happy in that endeavor.”

As we sailed to the Great Middle, the forests became thicker and thicker, more like jungle terrain. The Lady of Eldin was coasting past the land of Astygares when Captain Radamant ordered the navigator to take the ship closer to shore. Cumall and I were studying the land when the jungle thinned out and a great plantation of fruit trees spread out as far as the eye could see. An immense palace stood in the middle of the grove, the light glistening from its rose colored tiles.

Captain Radamant gestured towards me. I ran to the upper deck at the stern of the vessel. His eyes reddened and a mist seemed to cover his face.

“That is, or was, my home, Skell,” he whispered. “The sweetest oranges to be found anywhere. I used to gather them with the field workers as a boy.”

“Oh, Captain, stop the ship and go ashore in one of the boats. It might make you feel better, sir. Really.”

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“No, Skell. I have made my bargain with grief. But I shall write to my sister when we make port at the Blessed Isle… Yes, I shall write her a very long letter.”

++++++

The very next day, as if to mimic the captain’s sadness, the ships were engulfed by a great fog. We sailed with more caution, burning lanterns in the middle of the day and night, and also blasting out trumpet calls of recognition every half hour. So did our companion ships.

Everyone was on edge, even Dizil. I asked him why we didn’t sail further out away from the shore where a collision would have less chance of happening.

Smoking a bit of gee weed in his bone pipe, Dizil shook his head. “We know pure nothin’ of the Great Deep, Skell. Our baby ships hug the coast as a mother, afraid of losing our way in the vast reaches of the Eastern Ocean. Aye, we got good maps to miss the rocky parts on the coast, but we hold our bearings by the land. A good navigator knows his stars, yes, his constellations, but that don’t give us a good fix for location. We got maps and the land. The Eastern Pirates, may they forever be accursed, got the Great Deep.”

“How far away are their islands?”

Cumall chimed in, “Yes, Dizil. Why don’t we invade them instead of the other way around, you know?

He smothered a laugh, the smoke erupting from his nose.“Oh, you is a brave lad, yes, yes. We have captured pirates at times, and even had slaves escape a pirate ship and git back home, but the Eastern Islands be far off. Captains say if a ship was to take the Northern Current out to ‘em, the ship wouldn’t see land for over twenty – yes, twenty and some - days. And that be if’n with no storms and knowing where you is heading. The return on the Southern Current takes even longer. Who wants to risk such? To sail off into the endless ocean and die of starvation and madness?”

“How do they know the way?”

“Hard to tell. Most pirate prisoners don’t say nothin’ and they kills themselves in their cells, hating the very thought of being trapped under a roof for life. Some say it’s water

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witchcraft. Others say knowing the stars. But these prisoners was bribed by a good meal and wine and a chance at freedom. Were they speaking truth? I doubt it for spit.”

The fog dissipated in two days and we were clearly in the Great Middle region. The air was hot and a mist wrapped the jungles in secrets. There were no more Imperial guard towers. Strangest of all, the leaves were now mostly yellowish with green veins showing where the life of the plant ran through them. The trees were immensely high,
each one resembling a castle made by nature spirits. The mist concealed the tops.

The noises of unseen birds and animals seemed never ending behind the curtain of mist.

Bernall strutted past me, kicking me in the leg. “You don’t look so damn brave now, Skell, fighter of the Ruk. Should we send Great Mother Cenefra to you, to act as your wet nurse?”

His little band sneered behind him, strength in numbers.

“No need, Bernall son of Bernall. If she came out here to help me, she’d have to clean up all of the piss running down your shaking knees.”

Bernall raised his fist to strike. I was ready, crouched to jump right at his throat. Then Dizil appeared, a mop in hand as a weapon, knocking heads and rear ends.

“Go run off, you rich scum! Git! Git!”

As he ran off, Bernall stared at Dizil. “Watch yourself, old man. Accidents happen to the best of men, much less the feeble-minded.”

Dizil just laughed and sat down, motioning to the jungle. “Land of the Eetoy. No worry here, lad. They love the Gracious Lady and the Mothers and Sisters. Safer here than around the Blessed Isle, for a fact.” He stared at Bernall far away. “I hope that ass comes to a bad end. Hah! I made a pun ... And our Eetoy mates, ha, they’s just li’l runts, but got hearts as big as giants.”

A deep voice bellowed, “Bohemoth! Bohemoth! Starboard!”

Tingles ran up my spine as I stared over the side, not sure exactly what I would see. I’d seen whales go by in Eldin, but never a behemoth, never a sea dragon.

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I recall seeing the ocean moving funny in one spot, then I could see that the ocean was of a different green and blue color. In a snap, the waters weren’t water, they were the
bohemoth’s back, rising slightly above the waves, moving almost like a snake, rippling up and down and around.

Up popped the neck, about twenty feet high, with a rather small head. Much like a lizard. The behemoth was around fifty feet away. I estimated him to be about sixty feet long by the way the water rippled in its wake.

“It doesn’t have a head like a monster,” Cumall exhaled with disappointment. “I thought it would have burning red eyes, demon eyes of glowing coal and howl.”

“It ain’t a fierce sea dragon,” Dizil barked from behind us. “He’s mostly a beast that eats big fish and such. Not humans, thank the Gracious Lady.”

The behemoth slowly turned and seemed to be staring straight at our ship. Without any visible concern, it ducked back down beneath the waves.

“Cumall, don’t git all in a lather. When you git to see a real flesh-eater, you’ll wish that dragon was kin to this behemoth.”

Captain Radamant was not pleased at the sight of the behemoth. I could hear him order extra lookouts for the rest of the day and through the night, with many torches to be lit on all three ships.

I looked at Dizil, who was off duty and was packing a pinch of gee weed into his pipe. “Them Eastern devils sometimes follow dragons and bohemoths for good luck. They worship them as water gods, or something as such. They see them as guides to the kill.”

That evening, as the sun was setting in the East, a lookout eyed a couple ships with black sails slipping out from a fog bank a couple of miles away. Unfortunately, Radamant had been correct. The ships were as narrow as knives, slicing through the sea at great speed, heading in our direction. Man-made dragons. A sick, sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. I wished I’d never left home when I saw those raiders.

But the ships went quickly into action. The warships’ crews began stacking weapons and lead balls for the catapults. The marines put on helmets and armor and the archers went to their positions. The sailors armed themselves also. Both warships maneuvered to the starboard of the Lady of Eldin, creating a barrier between us and the pirates.
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On the “Lady E”, as the sailors dubbed her, the novices and novitiates were busy obeying the marines – stacking swords and arrows and lances, as well as filling up barrels with water to extinguish any possible fire arrows from the pirates.

I shouted to Dizil, “Didn’t they make a mistake by letting us see them too early?”

Dizil, still a wee bit loopy, shrugged. “I think they thinks we might run scared, having a Great Mother’s ship along, but they don’t know old Radamant. He’s a mean old sea shark!”

“How many ships will attack?”

“Eight. They attacks in packs of eight, a magical number to them devils.”

From a locked closet below the prow, the marines rolled out a small bow-catapult and locked it in place with chains. It shot thick bronze shafts with spiky heads.

To all of our surprise, Great Mother Cenefra emerged up top, clad in gleaming armor and holding a short sword. Everyone shouted with joy.

“I am a priestess and a warrior, a member of the Society of Inistra. Every Sister aboard not only prays but fights, and we will care for the wounded as well! No surrender! None! Death to them all! Send their stinking bones to the bottom of the deep, deep sea!”

We all screamed at the top of our lungs. High emotion can block out fear for awhile.

Cumall cozied up to me. “Is there a port we’re making for?”

“No. The Eetoy have no cities like us, and none on the coast. I heard a marine mention the Eetoy-Eelaana, a large river where our ships go for safety or to unload cargo, things like that.”

Cumall was close to tears. I hugged him and dried his eyes with a rag.

“Cumall, the Moon is almost full. The Lady’s powers are great. They won’t attack us now. Pray hard and do as you’re told. That’s all we can do.”

“As you say, Skell. You got them Ruk and we’ll get these villains.”
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As the activity calmed down slightly, the strategy began. After a long wait, the warships shot out fiery cloth balls dipped in pitch. After a dozen or so were shot out over the black waters, a couple of pirate vessels were spotted drifting in towards us, preparing to attack at dawn. Once the marines spotted the closest ship, they kept firing the fiery balls until one hit the narrow body of the ship – and was put out quickly by the pirates – but the other hit the top of their sail, setting it afire. The marines were delighted. With a target to aim for, both warships shot out the heavy metal balls, one after another after another after another…

The pirates pulled back away but too late. One ball split the mast, sending it down upon the crew and leaving it dead in the water. Before they could get out their oars, the other shots cracked into the prow at the water line. It began to sink amid our cheers and prayers of thanksgiving to the Lady.

Their other ships slipped back and waited for any of their companions to swim to them. None wanted a similar fate.

I stared into Cumall’s eyes.”See? One down and seven to go.”

++++++

The dawn brought sheer terror. With the deep jungle only two hundred yards to port, the battle really began. Life can be nothing but fear at times.

All seven pirate ships attacked one warship, Leead 10. They shot arrows, fiery arrows, flung rocks from deadly slings, threw spears, and hurled chained hooks or ropes to connect to the ship’s side. Most of the brigands had shaved heads covered with tattoos of circles, rows of dots or waves or dragons. They fought without heavy armor, but they had large square shields for defense. When they weren’t fighting, they were yelling at us or drinking something from big buckets. Later, a marine said it was a beverage of water and Eastern Islands’ mushrooms that drove the pirates into a frenzy.

I caught sight of the sea dragon skeleton heads they hang on their bows. They paint them up in fierce colors. Sea dragon bones dangled from the sides of the swift ships.

We couldn’t shoot our arrows or the bow-catapult without hitting our own forces. Radamant slowed down the Lady E, in order to get some angles of fire at the attackers’ ships. It helped somewhat, as our archers at the stern could now harm a few of the ships, as well as giving the bow-catapult a shot at our enemies. Leead 12 turned back
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towards its brother ship, adding to the mayhem. One pirate vessel was so banged up by the metal balls from both warships, that it broke off from the fight and headed out to open seas, wobbling badly.

I shouted to Dizil, “Where’s it going? It’s going to sink!”

“Out there’s the Dragon Mother. It’s a big lunker out in the fog, a few miles off. That’s where they dumps their treasure and then fights again, or go back to git more weapons. Only the eight attack. The Dragon Mother stays out of harm’s way.”

Within minutes, dozens of pirates were crawling over the Leead 10, in bloody hand-to-hand combat with our marines and sailors. As our men fell back toward the prow, there was no doubt as to the outcome.

“Jump! Jump!” Radamant shouted to our men aboard, and they began leaping over the side, ditching their weapons.

I wondered why he was giving up so quickly. Was he frightened? My hero?

The answer was forthcoming and to the point.

At close range, the Lady E fired bolts right into Leead 10’s hull, a few making holes at the waterline. Leead 12’s catapult filled the vessel with balls of fire. Soon, the pirates were retreating back to their ships while our men were paddling straight to the Lady E.

The pirates again pulled back to avoid the flames and the sinking warship, and they had gained no spoils of war. Leead 10 sank sadly offshore, planks of wood rolling onto the beach with the waves, some still smoldering.

We helped the sailors and marines climb up the side with rope ladders, then the novices and novitiates distributed bread and wine to them, as well as helping the Sisters with any wounds. Thirty or so made it aboard. Ten were wounded badly.

Radamant bellowed through the horn at us,” We will give them nothing but death, I swear by the Lady Moon! I’ve never lost to these wretches in a fair fight and we’ve got one!”

Mother Cenefra chanted a prayer for victory and we tried to relax for a short while.

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The six pirate ships clustered together at a very safe distance, obviously discussing strategy and dealing with their wounded. We could see them tossing bodies into the waters.

A marine next to me, with just a few cuts, was calming himself down and enjoying his wine. “They kill their badly wounded. No compassion with those scum.”

“What will they do next?”

“They always attack, but how or when is the question. We are two days from the Eetoy-Eelaana and they are sizing us up. They are drooling over the Lady of Eldin, so there will be more bloodshed. If we can reach the river in decent shape, we have a slight chance.”

A slight chance. All of us young ones near him were frozen with fear at his words. We had dreams of great futures on the Blessed Isle, but now the odds of life appeared to doom us to an ugly death or an uglier slavery at the hands of brutes.

A Sister strode by. “Say your prayers. Do not forget to pray. The Great Lady is always listening.”

But would she do anything about it? The prerogative of the Deity is rarely known.

Radamant had Leead 12 line up fifty feet beyond our stern, the land still protecting us on the other side. I was holding a shield for an archer who could do a fine job when the ships came within reach. He had a curious gleam in his eyes and kissed a silver medal of Inistra.

The six ships wove in and out, dodging our missiles and metal balls with sharp curves as they approached again. One ship went round Leead 12 and created a second front, filling the warship with arrows and lances. Three more quickly aimed for the ship also, while the other two attacked us cautiously, still weaving to and fro among the waves.

My archer ran to the stern and I followed. As he skillfully aimed his bolts, the pirates on the second front were scrambling over the 12’s side. I envisioned them as horrid warring beetles attacking helpless insects on a huge brown leaf. The image made me sick. I started throwing up, mostly water.


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“Marines, rally to me! Rally to me!” Radamant was no helpless insect. “We shall extend ropes to Number Twelve and retake her from the swine! On my count!”

The marines tied lines to the Lady E and threw them into the melee on the warship.

“Three! Two! One! For the honor of the Great Lady!”

Captain Radamant disappeared over the stern.

++++++

The night was clear. The Sphere of Our Lady floated in the blackness of divine space. I laid on the deck, face up to the sky and wondered what Father would do in such a situation.

There were drum beats from the five remaining pirate craft. Their singers belted out victory songs, preparing their filthy pack for sunrise. But they did not sound all that confident to me, or at least my imagination wanted to believe that.

Radamant had been marvelous. His marines not only saved Leead 12 (though it was in awful shape), but they had freed the catapult from its mooring and shoved it over the side, right into the pirate vessel that had encircled them. The catapult smashed through the top deck, and then cracked the bottom of the black-painted hull. The fiends jumped for safety, most of them swimming ashore. A few campfires could be seen on the beach, but not many. Almost the entire crew had perished.

But we needed something else now. Five against the Lady E and a hobbled warship were not good odds. No doubt during the night they would re-arm and maybe even get a new influx of fighters from the Dragon Mother.

Father had used craft against the Ruk. One-Eye had even said that Father had success against the Easterners. Craft is skill… skill is the use of the wits … the wits are used in many things … even games … games of skill … or even chance … games. A game. Strategy is nothing but a game played for life or death. Nothing different. But no one goes home after they’ve been “killed” or “captured”. I had a glimmer but I didn’t know how to approach Captain Radamant without looking utterly foolish.

Cumall was next to me, praying. I think he can read minds occasionally, quite a gift for someone so dense. “What’s looking foolish compared to being dead?” he muttered to me.
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The leaders were in Cenefra’s room, the greatest in size. The Great Mother was instructing several Sisters on wrapping up sacred objects to keep them out of the pirates’ hands. They were to be weighted down and sent to the bottom. Unfortunately, we were quite close to shore, and Cenefra was so digusted at the idea of pirate divers touching her things that she was swearing out loud in front of laymen.

I blushed for her. She gave me the slightest glance, then turned and touched Radamant’s knee. She sat down. “You possess a stratagem?”

Radamant was very tired and drinking wine to dull the pain of his wounds. “Boy, I know you mean well, but what could you possibly know that we haven’t already thought of and discussed a thousand times? We make for the river and pray for victory. True enough?”

I nodded and bowed. “Back in Eldin, we have a game called Protect-the-Post.”

“And what can that possibly have to do with our current situation?”

++++++

During the night, Leead 12 was filled with as many marines as possible. Sailors pounded away to give them as much protection as possible from planks and boards and even tables taken from the Lady E. The mast was strengthened to hopefully maintain a mainsail in strong winds.

Mother Cenefra gave each man a special blessing and a taste of sacred honey, complete with the entire rite for Sanctification as Battle Nears. They were fortified to meet the Great Lady in the Perfect Sphere.

Aboard the Lady E, anything heavy that did no good for defense was cast overboard, except, of course, for sacred objects and some supplies.

Every novice was armed. I had a lance. Cumall a sword. Bernall an axe. He tried his best to keep up his smirk, but it was not impressing anyone. I shook inside, but somehow I appeared calm on the outside. Father had that gift too, I realized.

The Sun rose lazily in the East, greeted by more singing by the barbarians.


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The water demons again approached, weaving in and out, three for the Lady of Eldin and two for the battered warship.

Now the game. Captain Zeel of the Leead 12 raised his horn and began screaming at Radamant on the stern. He ranted on and on about doing his best and how he could not let his men die for no reason and how he’d always hated Radamant and wished a curse on him.

Then Leead 12 began turning and heading South, the tillers doing their work, cutting against the blue-green waters.

The pirate ships halted, wary of the theater before them, their captains yelling amongst themselves.

But, to their disbelief, old Twelve kept going South, leaving the prize ship to swim alone among the hungry dragons.

We had our sail for the North and we were flying rapidly, free of much of our luggage. The brigands had to make up their minds. And soon. We were a day from the Eetoy-Elaana, but a day goes quickly with a strong wind.

Greed won the day. All five of the Dragon Mother’s children swam to us, sails billowing with wind and lust for riches.

I stood with Radamant and Cenefra (in her armor) on the stern deck, frightened but proud. Cumall was behind me, pushing his chest out at Bernall.

Despite the speed we had gained with the unloading, the dragon’s brood was soon close at hand, blind to the game.

Radamant nodded to the trumpeter. He held Cenefra’s hand for a moment, then gazed calmly right into my eyes. “My lady has a very clever student. Now we will see if they know Protect-the-Post.”

The clarion notes rang out, aimed South to the Leead 12.

I could see some of the pirates halting at their work, a captain reflecting on what this signal meant.

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Back across the waters came the dim, metallic voice of the warship’s reply.

All five of the brood hesitated. All of their lookouts peered at the distant enemy vessel cowardly escaping.

With a drama and grace worthy of a great actor on stage at the finest theater on the Blessed Isle, the warship ceased its Southerly course and veered East, East toward the Dragon Mother, visible on the horizon as it followed its greedy children.

The Easterners screamed at the threat to the Dragon Mother, at the very abomination of a ship manned by the moronic land lovers daring to seize their ocean-born fort. Four vessels broke off, desperately trying to find the best angle to catch the winds back to protect the Dragon Mother. They also broke out the oars and pulled mightily. Only one stayed with us, but it stayed back, doing us no harm and watching the plight of its brethren.

Mother Cenefra stepped forward. “Now pray, all of you. Pray for a strong wind for us. Pray for the bravery of our marines aboard the warship. Pray for the victory of the Great Lady!”

And we did. With an eye to the distant ships, however.

Because of my hand in the scheme, Radamant let me and Cumall watch from the stern with him. The Dragon Mother headed out into deeper waters, yet she still followed us North. A sign of trust in the four rescuers, even though it would take a long time to reach the ship threatening their floating home.

Old 12 was doing fine until the mast weakened and the crew had to go at a slower pace in order to keep any canvass up at all. My throat choked up. The conflict would come sooner than we had hoped. But, the winds favored us and we moved closer and closer to safety with every wave the bow cut through.

Finally, however, the inevitable happened. The four reached the warship. However, they were so far away that only imagination could fill in as an eye witness. I could see the pirates being stunned by the strength of numbers aboard Old 12. And no matter the odds, that many Sacred Marines would be a ferocious creature to deal with.

After almost an hour, smoke billowed up. The marines had taken a pirate vessel as planned and set the torch to Old 12. One down. Tears welled up in my eyes as I thought
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of the mixture of heroism and fear our men must have been feeling. Doomed to die in order to give us a chance at freedom.

(That sad and yet monumental event has stayed with me my entire life. It has given me a certain fatalistic perspective through all of my struggles.)

After another hour or so and the end came, but with another victory. As the pirate vessel the marines had captured was finally sinking, the marines had accomplished another powerful feat, securing another Eastern ship with lines and chains and hauling the foul thing down with them, and in doing so, giving them more time to stay afloat and to kill or maim more pirates. They had made a pledge to die rather than face certain torture for their assault on the Dragon Mother. They went to sleep in the ocean knowing they were free to enter the dwelling of the Goddess Moon, Our Mother and Our Comfort.

A chant began spontaneously on the Lady of Eldin.

“Brave are the sons and daughters who fall in the quest;
To hold the Truth before them as they enter into the fray;
None shall stand between them and the silver visions,
Sights too beautiful for our mortal eyes to bear,
The Realm of Perfection and Our Lady’s delight.”

Our attention now turned to the race for the river, and there was a calmness after the chanting had ceased. Great Mother Cenefra actually hugged me, not as a priestess or spiritual authority, but as a woman. Simply a tired woman.

“Skell, if we live through this, you have my pledge of indebtedness to you. Bless you, Dyess urnif Skell.”

She moved away to comfort others. Out of the corner of my eye, I could make out Bernall. He had a false smile and his eyes shone with pure jealousy. I knew that if we did make it to the Blessed Isle, he would be my enemy until his last breath.

Two black-sailed vessels came North. They rode the same winds as we, and their sails were billowing with speed and hatred. The third still did not attack nor hinder us. I was praying to accept the will of the Great Lady, no matter what, but the wind blowing through my hair gave me hope.

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Radamant already had his charts out, judiciously studying them.

He whispered to himself, the charts upon his knee as he sat. “Protect-the Post has done its part. We cannot reach the river until sunset, and those bastards will reach us before then. We need to find a landing place just below… Somewhere that offers a soft landing and a chance for survival for young ones … and my Cenefra, of course…”

He stared back at the Dragon Mother’s two ruthless offspring. He studied the wind filling our mainsail.

“The sand bars?... A few more hours…” He stood up and looked around the stern deck. “Where is Great Mother Cenefra?”

++++++

The sun crawled across the sky, heading West like a lazy dog. That’s what fear does to you. The minutes drag on so you can feel your sweat and heart palpitations, dry mouth and irrational thoughts telling you to jump off the ship, scream or try to go crazy. How do you go crazy on purpose?

But the launch was being prepared. The sacred objects and other items of value were gathered on the main deck next to it. Some marines were chosen to man it when it was to depart, and that would leave the Lady E with mostly sailors and children to battle the Eastern demons.

The two pirate ships chasing were getting much closer. The third was moving slowly over towards us. We could not make the Eetoy-Eelaana until sundown. They would reach us before then.

Along the coast, fingers of the beach began jutting out occasionally into the ocean. The Lady E sailed precariously close to them. Cumall and I stayed close together at the stern, eyes on the pirates, but something was indeed going on with Radamant’s plans.

Without an order, the marines tumbled over the side and filled up the launch, grabbing the oars and raising the small sail. Sailors threw down the valuables in bundles to them. Great Mother Cenefra hugged Captain Radamant then climbed down the rope ladder for there was no time to put down the plank. A few Sisters followed her.


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“Bless all of you!” Cenefra shouted. “We shall rendezvous on the beach soon, my children!”

The launch sped off for the nearest finger of sand. Within moments, one of the following pirate ships changed its course, going closer to the beach, intent on gaining whatever treasure was surely being whisked away.

The launch scraped the sand. Out jumped the marines, carrying Cenefra and the valuables, the Sisters being pulled along. They were running straight to the thick, curious yellow and green jungle.

We sailed on another half mile before Radamant spoke again. “Tiller men, take us in!”

On both sides of the stern, each tiller man steered the great ship between two narrow fingers of land pointing out into the blue-green waters.

“Novices! Novitiates! When we run aground, the plank will be set out. Run with all of your strength into the jungle. Those fearsome pirates have a great fear of this jungle, and for good reason. Sailors stay behind with me! We shall show these tattooed barbarians what our mettle is made of!”

The ship lurched, shook terribly and groaned as if it were a wounded whale. Then it stopped. The plank went down. The girls rushed out first, but many lads were right with them, including Bernall and his friends.

I ran to the captain and kissed his ivory ring. “You’re my hero, sir. I’d like to stay behind –“

“Shut up, Skell! Get off my ship, now! That is my direct order!”

He kicked my rear and laughed slightly. “We’ll swim on the beach together, you and me and that lumpy Cumall.”

I ran toward the gangplank, Cumall right behind me. We made sure that we pushed no one aside. As we landed on the sand, my mind changed into a different mode of thought for but a moment. The white sand was beautiful beyond belief. It lay before us like a great, soft white bed. I wanted to lie down upon it and sleep, to deny that any of these events were happening.

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“Git! Git, you slow-moving turd!” Dizil pushed me forward, an axe in his hand.

“Aren’t you staying behind to fight with the captain?” Cumall asked hurriedly.

“I can do much more for the Great Lady by helping you young pups stay alive in the jungle. I was shipwrecked here once, and stayed alive for many days before the Eetoy rescued me.”

We ran towards the line of thick foliage. It was farther away that I thought it would be. I looked over my shoulder. A pirate ship was sliding onto the sand at the wavebreak.
I peered down the coast at the launch. The second ship had already landed and the pirates were leaping off.

“The third ship is attacking the Lady E,” huffed Cumall, as he turned back to run. “Radamant and the others will cut them to pieces. I just know it!”

We kept running. The yellow and green trees seemed to stand so far away.

Then the Jungle itself spoke with a great voice. “Eetoy!”

A thousand arrows came from the wall of trees, flying for the pirates landing behind us.

Sixty devils had been running upon the sand before the Jungle spoke. I fell down on the sand and turned around quickly. Three stood now. They froze. Unable to comprehend what had just happened.

Down the coast near the launch, maybe five pirates were upright, waving like little palm trees in a storm.

The Jungle spoke again.”Eetoy!”

A horde of short, yellow-skinned warriors wearing almost nothing ran toward the Lady E and the two pirate ships, bows and knives in hand.

They raced right past us. The Eastern ship near us was overcome in a matter of moments, not a pirate soul left alive.

The Easterners down near the launch at least had pushed their ship back into the water before the human wave took their lives.
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They raced up the gangplank as Radamant and the sailors attacked the pirates with a new heart and fury. The Lady E was safe within minutes, then the Eetoy archers killed every pirate on the ship hooked to our vessel.

Cumall, Dizil and I had not even had time to flex a muscle, much less stand. We had gone from the hunted to the victors within a few snaps of a finger, or so it seemed.

Out at sea, a black pillar of smoke rose from the Dragon Mother. I imagined that some horrid, demonic pirate priest had seen their utter defeat and began stoking up a fire in a cauldron to grieve for their humiliating loss. Or perhaps to appease a dragon god or spirit.

The Dragon Mother would return to the Eastern Islands alone, its hateful spawn all vanquished.


Saturday, July 12, 2008

CHAPTER TWO

Imperial Captain
An Imperial Warship
Captain Radamant


A Sister praying


A Merchant Ship





CHAPTER TWO

“Traveling is a bright open gate. The anxiety is what may
be on the other side.”
Hyrsuzlas : The Commentaries

++++++

We stood on the dilapidated dock, both of us staring at the ships as workers and sailors quickly toiled around us, ensuring that the vessels were properly secured. I had only seen a true seaworthy ship up close when one had floundered on the rocks not far from the hamlet, but these ships were all larger.

Two were clearly warships. They had ramming beaks on the waterline many feet ahead of the curved prows. Both had a small protected deck erected behind the prow where archers could ply their deadly skills. The pilot and the crew were defended by a roof spreading over the raised deck. Portholes were cut in the walls to allow the firing of arrows or the hurling of other weapons. On each main deck near the mast, one catapult stood, waiting as silent giant to fling objects at the enemy.

But the largest ship was for carrying cargo and passengers. On this trip, the passengers were the children of Eldin sworn to serve the Gracious Lady. On the prow was a beautifully carved figure of a Leead wearing a crown and wielding a sword. The ship was also lavishly painted in white, silver and various shades of blue, an even more beautiful sight than our shrine back home. Silver lanterns burnt sweet incense that disappeared in the rough ocean breeze. Wooden statues of the Great Goddess and Venerable Ones were in abundance. It was mysterious yet welcoming. A floating temple tempting the follower to come aboard.

“The Great Mother in command will be on that ship,” Father said sadly.” Do you wish to visit it now? We can wait in Ailgen at a tavern and return tomorrow.”

I didn’t know what to say. We had only been up on Freill Mount two hours ago celebrating the past and now I was looking directly at my new and uncertain future. I stood there mute.

We stood side by side. Silent. Uncomfortable. I wanted to run away. Someone else broke the impasse.

24

“Who are you, down there?” The voice was feminine and commanding.

I barely had the courage to glance up. “I am promised to the White Lady, madam, but we came by these parts for another purpose and I’m not sure what I am to do.”

The tall, slender woman came marching smoothly down the gangplank. She wore light blue robes and her head was covered with a white veil adorned with jewels.

Father went to his knees, whispering,”A Great Mother.” I kneeled immediately.

A gigantic diamond ring was on her right hand. She walked with a staff made of silver, an image of the Moon at the top. Her robes covered her feet. She held out the hem of her longest garment. Father kissed the silver thread on the hem. I again followed his action.

“How blessed is the day when the land of Eldin is graced by such sanctity,” Father testified firmly.

She gently touched Father’s head. “I am always happy to visit my children.”

She took my face by the chin and raised my head so that I should view her closely. I shut my eyes, terrified.

“Open.” I barely cracked my eyelids.

“Behold Cenefra, your spiritual mother. I am the Patroness of Eldin, a Great Mother of the Second Rank, a priestess in the High Mysteries with the authority to practice all solemn rites in the Celestial Temple of the Goddess Moon on the Blessed Island.”

I have no idea how her face seemed to me that first time. I only recall the veil and the jewels and her firm hand. She smelled of jasmine. I thought I might pass out if something didn’t happen very soon.

She relaxed her grip and I dropped my head to the wood of the dock.

“I am certain you have a name.”

“Dyess urnif Skell.”


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“Well, Skell son of Dyess, I know what you will do. You will board my ship and my guards shall escort your father back to your home. He will collect anything you would have normally brought when you would have answered the Call, hearing of my arrival in Ailgen.”

++++++

After Father left, I felt extremely lonely and, indeed, despondent. Great Mother Cenefra’s time was consumed with working with her Scribes and couriers in sending out the Call to all of Eldin. Dozens of couriers either rode out on horseback into the countryside every day. I climbed up Freill Mount or surveyed the tiny crooked streets of Ailgen-on-the-Coast. It was the largest town I had ever been in and I am rather ashamed to admit that I was impressed with it. Soon, I gained a measure of pride in knowing my way through all of Ailgen and gaining the acquaintance of a few citizens. I saw several families preparing to send children upon the voyage, most were maidens.

One day up on the Mount, I fell through a hole that had been covered up with thin sod and tall grasses. I went down only a few feet, but it was manmade and I vowed to explore it further. I got a torch in Ailgen and rushed back up, making sure that no one was following me. I lit the torch and went down on purpose this time, feet first. I slid down at a gradual sloping about fifteen feet, my sandals finally touching ancient clay bricks. I held out the torch into the darkness. I was in a corridor about six feet high. I stepped away from the narrow cone of light shining from above.

The walls were covered with Old Eldinic murals. The first was Skell the Hero-King himself, holding an axe in one hand and a wild beast in the other. He had a large black beard and long hair. He did resemble the Skell in my dream somewhat. Next to that picture there was Skell fighting the demon Hikk, a fiercesome thing, and then Skell slaying a number of Ruk warriors. A few feet further, after pictures of dolphins, Skell was shown building the fort on Mount Freill. The last mural depicted the Hero-King fighting the huge White Bear, blood dripping from his many wounds. He would not defeat that opponent. I tingled from head-to-toe. Here was my ancient blood relative glorified in these faded scenes, a glimpse into the past when we ruled ourselves.

A sour taste was in my mouth as I thought of the Imperial idiot and whoever ordered him to our district. There must be a better way. Yes, and these murals must see the full light of day once again, with fresh paint upon the images. I climbed up and extinguished the torch in the dust. I carefully covered up the hole once again. Somehow I was sure that I was not the only guest to view these beauties. As I strode down to
26

Ailgen-on-the-Coast, I felt a pride swell within my heart, a coursing of blood in my veins.

After all of the couriers had been sent, Cenefra invited me to have lunch in her cabin. My heart beat out of my chest as I made my way to her door and knocked. The door was painted with intertwined Desdrads dancing on the Moon.

“Entrance is granted.”

I opened the door and knelt, my forehead on the carpeted floor.

“Rise, Dyess urnif Skell, and dine with your new mother.”

I rose and went to a lower chair on the opposite side from her at a table laden with foods and fruit. She was leaning back into a plush divan and she was not wearing a veil, only a scarf that covered her long, dark, braided hair. Her skin was pale and she was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen up to that day in my life. Father later explained to me that the Great Mother wore cosmetics, something not done by rural Eldinic women.

Such was her grace that within a few minutes she had me opening up about my family life and tales of my innocent existence. She acted as if these juvenile escapades were fascinating and kept handing me tiny glasses of the most exquisite wine. I was babbling like a fool.

However, when I mentioned the ambush at the ravine, my ill-prepared lunge at Scar Face and my role as the rikka, her gaze changed somewhat. I believe she was actually impressed with my courage, yet something else was veiled in her look and I was not mature enough to decipher it.

“Skell, have you not pondered what your life will be as a celibate Scholar or Scribe?”

I stopped and my thick tongue had no words. Girls were nice but I had never swooned over anyone in the hamlet.”Uh, no, no… I enjoy study and… no.”

She smiled knowingly. “You are unspoiled and do not yet miss the fruit you have not tasted.”


27

Blushing, I bit my tongue and nodded. Father had told me about sex as animal behavior but nothing more. I had seen the farm animals at mating, of course, and a friend of mine had gotten a girl with child and was forced to marry her when he was barely fourteen. I had no wish for a wife in that way.

“As you mature, you may find that the need for sexual love will become your greatest temptation on the Blessed Island. I have seen many a maid and many a man succumb to the pleasures of the body outside of matrimony.”

I shrugged. “Since I am not mature, I guess I must wait.”

She reached over and patted my hand. “I am speaking of this delicate matter because you are a handsome lad and from the day you arrive on the island, there will be maids seeking to corrupt you, generally serving girls.”

“I am chosen to serve the Great Lady. There can be no other.”

She chuckled lightly. “I expected no better answer. Dear son, I must attend to other duties now, so kiss my hand and leave me with my blessing.”

She extended the hand with the large diamond. I brushed her hand with my lips.

“A warning, Skell of Eldin. Do not return to the fort on Mount Freill. “

My mouth was agape. I thought I had been careful.

“The murals are wonderful art but they must remain hidden. I allow them to exist because of my love for my Eldinic children. Secrecy and tolerance are not the same as full acceptance. I would not have some lout of the Emperor spoil those paintings.”

++++++

Within a week, the children and family members began to appear along with returning couriers. Some voyagers were joyous, others wary, others obviously afraid. Family
members also showed mixed emotions.

Father returned and checked into a tavern. He used a silver link on the chain to finance the only vacation of his life and tried hard to enjoy himself, despite the shadow of loss that followed throughout town or when we hiked up in the hill country (but avoiding
28

the fort). He brought me two tunics with inner pockets sewn in by Mother. One carried the three silver pieces, the other my circlet of pearls.

“These may be of great importance to you on the Blessed Island. Use them wisely,” Father counseled.” There is much wealth at the Sacred Court and I don’t know what you will be given as a struggling novice. Let no one know of the pearls.”

As more and more passengers arrived, the situation aboard Cenefra’s ship became rapidly organized. Young males were given thin cotton mattresses and a blanket and assigned to sleep on deck. The young maidens were given berths down below. Times of prayer and worship were begun regularly, led by Sisters and occasionally by Great Mother Cenefra.

The ship was filling up. The tension and excitement of departure built every day. All three ships were stocked with enough provisions to make the voyage.

Finally the day of departure was announced. We were all allowed to spend time with our families that night. Father and I ate a grand feast at the tavern, where we even joined in with the balladeer in singing traditional songs and folk dancing in the main hall. Father was quite lively, but warned me never to tell Mother about our celebration.

Father and I drifted out into the night, wandering out to the seashore near the pier. We picked up a few stones and hurled them into the breaking waves. I gathered up about a dozen shells and handed them to Father to give to my brothers and sisters. He studied them and sat down on a sand dune high up on the beach.

“I’m leaving tonight, Skell.”

“Why not see me off, Father? Have you run out of money for the tavern?”

“No. Don’t worry about me… I can’t bear to watch you sail away, son. My spirit is low and I might be moved to mourning tomorrow, and I don’t want to lose the little bit of dignity I have.”

I rushed over to him and hugged him. He broke out into tears, his chest heaving with buried grief and pain.



29

“You have more honor, Father, than all of those who rule us or any great landowner, for that matter. Old One-Eye told me about our lineage and about your courage in past troubles with the Ruk and the pirates.”

He pulled me close.” But I cannot keep you here with me and the ones who love you. I am powerless. And that is why I will take to the road tonight. Give me a kiss and go to the ship and your future. Say your prayers and sleep well. When you leave in the morning, I will be long gone but I will relive your life as I walk, from the time you were born until this night.”

I kissed him on the cheek and then he held me at arm’s length. I was to leave.

++++++

I tossed and turned on my mattress all night, as did nearly everyone else. I felt that my load was heavier that night than the others, but looking back I’m certain all of the new children of the Great Lady were dealing with strong anxieties and doubts. I could hear crying in the dark but no one made a cutting remark about it. The evening prayers had helped, but we faced the dawn alone. I held on to the circlet of prayer beads and desired my old shabby home as I had never before.

Fortunately, the hint of dawn brought forth a flurry of activity from the sailors and the marines and the Sisters ordering us to clear away the deck. The wind was blowing strong and the tide was right for departure. A crowd gathered on the dock, spilling far back into the streets of Ailgen.

Spontaneous singing and chanting erupted from the crowd. They sang “The Call of the White Lady” many times, a favorite folk tune in Eldin with a lonely melody but words of great devotion to the One Above All Others.

Great Mother Cenefra made a dramatic entrance in rich robes and white veil as she marched up to the stern deck with two Sisters carrying a scroll of official prayers kept in a covering of shimmering jewels.

The crowd shouted,” Blessings upon the Great Mother! Praise be to the Great Lady! Hail to the True Religion!” Feelings were running strong. The crowd was pressing towards the main ship.


30

Cenefra lifted her hands toward the sky. A hush fell over the people. The Sisters unrolled the scroll.

Cenefra’s voice was powerful, cutting through the wind, yet I didn’t feel that she prayed as a devoted priestess, but more as a highborn woman with an obligation to fill.

“Great Queen of the winds and sea, O Mother of Us All! Grant a safe journey for these three ships as we head toward your island.. Save us from tempests and all manner of danger at sea. Protect us in body and soul and may we be in constant praise of you, Great Lady, as we travel upon the waters that you have created for our use!”

The crowd bellowed with joy. People began pounding drums and blowing horns.

The Sisters rolled up the scroll. Cenefra crossed her arms over her bosom, signaling the end of the prayer.

“Let loose the ropes! Unfurl the sail! Make way out into the harbor!” boomed Captain Radamant from the main deck. He was a tall, gaunt man with a long black beard, swarthy skin and braided hair.

The two warships preceded us. I felt the great ship jolt and then move away from the pier, the wind filling the sail with power and joy. We passengers rushed to the side, flushed with inner fears. The people kept waving and chanting and singing. The power of the Goddess Moon was evident.

Several young males and females suddenly became distraught and attempted to jump overboard, but the marines were prepared and hustled them down below. (Later, at our first stop, they were discreetly removed from the ship and returned home).

As we left the harbor, I could feel the power of the ocean as it rocked the ship. Within seconds, over half of all novices and novitiates were at a side of the ship either throwing up or preparing to heave. I was one of them. After purging myself, I glanced up at the shore. For the first time in my life I was seeing Eldin from an entirely different view. We had all been raised on fairy tales where children flew up to the
Moon with a Leead and would stare back at the world in disbelief. I felt just like that. The Continent was very large and there were many ways of looking at it, of understanding it.


31

The vomiting gave way to constant nausea and that I could deal with, making small talk with a few other passengers. A sailor here or there smirked, but overall they pretended to ignore the sea sickness.

Cenefra was still standing on the stern deck. “Our great journey has begun, as we repeat the voyages taken by thousands of previous souls chosen to be in the service of Our Gracious Lady. I will begin studies for you all here on the main deck.”

Four marines of the Sacred Guard placed a great chair, almost a throne, on the deck and the Great Mother proceeded to hold court as we all sat on the wooden deck before her. I wondered what she was doing. It seemed so callous and cold-hearted.

“The ship you now call your home is named the Lady of Eldin, in honor of my position as Eldin’s Patroness. The two warships that protect us are known as Leead 10 and Leead 12. In the Sacred Fleet, we give numbers to our warships in order to promote the status of the greater vessels. However, you will still show the same respect to the marines and crew of the other vessels. Understood?”

There was a chorus of agreement. I just wanted to be left alone to sulk somewhere, to steady my feet and body, to breathe. I wanted my father.

Cenefra studied the group before her, her eyes shielded by her veil. “Bernall urnif Bernall, what are the accepted Sacred Texts from the First Age?”

Bernall stood. He was short and cocky with a scarred muscular body and black hair. He was from a large landowning family, but a few novices enjoyed joking that he was from Ruk stock. Bernall was always ready for a fight and called them liars, but the claim could have easily been true. In olden days, there had been mixing of the bloods during the conquest period.

“The Scroll of Creation, the Lives of the Great Ancestors, the Wisdom Sayings, and the Songs of the Leeads and Desdrads,” he answered confidently.

Cenefra waved Bernall to sit.” Dyess urnif Skell, how long did the First Age last?”

I stood, my leg shaking.” Around 5,000 years according to the estimates of some of our greatest Scholars.”

“And how did it end?”
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“The Goddess Moon descended to the world as Inistra, the warrior queen and priestess. She instituted the True Religion and created the Holy Community to spread Her teachings throughout the world. After many great deeds, She ascended back to Her great throne on the Celestial Sphere.”

“Name the Sacred Texts from the Second Age.”

I became flustered, not expecting her to continue questioning me. “Uh, there is…”

“The Deeds of Inistra,” she spat out, tapping her fingernails on the arm of the chair.

“Yes, Great Mother, and the Divine Accords for the Holy Community… and the Great Code for Believers, with the Chronicles of the Venerable Ones, a very stirring manuscript, and the Collected Writings of the Venerable Ones, and finally the Deeds of the Sacred Women.” I hoped I had recovered well enough.

“How long did the Second Age last?

“2,000 years is the widely accepted length, Great Mother.”

“Why did it end?”

“The Great Lady was saddened that despite the spread of the True Religion, the nations and peoples of the Continent still warred among themselves. She appeared in a vision to Eduans, the king of Meslanteam, one of the Three Islands, and commanded him to bring order to the Continent. Eduans rallied the people of the Three Islands on a grand crusade, to create the Empire and bring order and peace to all peoples.”

“How long has the Third Age, the Age of the Empire, lasted?

“Scholars are certain that it has lasted 983 years.”

Cenefra noted stiffly, “Long may the Empire prosper.” She stood abruptly, signaling the end of the class. “We shall discuss important matters throughout the voyage. I expect everyone to review their lessons and to be prepared to take part in our little dialogs. Prayer groups are often the best form.” She turned and went downstairs. The marines removed the grand chair.


33

The novices started chattering like caged up bees. Bernall was already being surrounded by some adoring mates. A chubby lad I had spoken with before, Cumall, rushed towards me.

“Well done, Skell, well done!” He shook my hand with obvious delight. “At least Bernall didn’t get all of the attention. I think the Great Mother has picked you two out as the ones with the most abilities. Can we study together?”

“Flattery can be a moral mistake, Cumall,” I replied, trying to sound above it all. “Why do you think Great Mother Cenefra halted our discussion with the beginning of the Third Age?”

“I don’t rightly know, Skell, but I heard a few marines talking about how the Imperial Navy and the Sacred Fleet have nothing to do with each other. They didn’t talk too highly of the Dread Emperor neither. By the way, what are the Sacred Texts for our age, Sir Know-It-All?”

I playfully cuffed Cumall on the back of his head.”You should know, son of Eldin, if you wish to study with me. The Testimony of Eduans and the Scroll of Emaklee. They were written at the start of the Age of the Empire and there’s been nothing allowed into the Holy Collection since them.”

I stared over the side of the ship at the coastline. I had forgotten about my seasickness and my separation from my homeland. I studied the rocky coast and the bare plains leading up into the hills. I realized that Cenefra was not just teaching a class that day. She was starting to pull our hearts and minds away from our childhoods.

Cumall asked,”When was the text of Eduans written?” Cumall stared over at the land and became immediately aware of his queasy feelings. He ran to the side of the ship and started coughing but nothing came out. He kept his head over the side, breathing in the salty, fresh air.

“Eduans wrote it a few weeks after he saw the vision of Inistra standing atop a small hill on Meslanteam. As proof of the vision, the tree she stood beneath flowered continuously for nine years. As for Emaklee, she was a common Sister who served the poor and injured during the Imperial Wars. Such was her holiness that she was said to have wrought many miracles. She worked out truces between the fighting armies also, to allow for help to the injured and even truces of surrender to halt slaughters.”

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Cumall, slightly less green, gazed up at me.”I hope I get my sea legs soon. I love to eat.”

++++++

Two days later, I had my eyes keenly set on the coastline near our farm. The waves broke over the jagged rocks that stood out from the beach. The few trees, like scarecrows, were bent back from the constant ocean winds. A pain struck me in my chest, a longing for familiar things and people and a sorrow that life keeps on going, day after day after day, and no one can stop it, not even the Glorious Lady. I was hoping to see Father standing atop the steep cliff, but I saw no one except sea gulls drifting along on the currents of air. He was surely still traveling the dusty roads back home. I vowed to return, no matter what it would take me to do it.

I sensed a presence of someone behind me. Then the smell of jasmine.

“Do not turn around, Skell. Study your home and remember every curve and angle, the colors and smells and sounds. For good and for the ill.”

“Yes, Great Mother.”

“I heard a story about a lonely girl of an aristocratic family. Her mother had died when she was five, giving birth to a stillborn son. Her father commanded the fortress overlooking the town and served in the Imperial Army. He had no time for her. He was a man of action, a man who loved hunting and dueling and drinking and – how shall I say it? – dangerous women. He never married again, so this lonely girl was raised by a succession of servants, some good, some not so good. In her despair, she made up wonderful fantasies about finding a husband who would love her deeply and they would raise a bevy of children together, far away from her father. As she reached courting age, her father arranged a marriage between his daughter and with an aging, powerful, wealthy merchant. She refused and tried to kill herself with a dagger. He locked her up in a storage room. She would not relent. One night, a hooded man kidnapped her and took her aboard a merchant ship. Many days later, she caught her first glance of the Blessed Isle and felt as if she were home.”

“What happened to the young lady?”

“Oh, I don’t know. The Sister who told me the story never finished it. So, remember Skell son of Dyess, changes can turn out to be enticing roses, wondrous yet as painful as any thorns.”
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“Very true, Great Mother. Should I bow to you?”

“Keep your eyes on your homeland and remember.” Her steps trailed away.

++++++

We sailed along the Eldin coast for many days and nights. It was much the same everywhere as my home, though I did see a few small towns and forts guarded by Imperial troops. Occasionally a tubby merchant ship would pass us heading South, the captain always begging for a blessing. One of the Sisters would shout one out and wave incense sticks to push the prayer more quickly up to the Moon.

We reached the Northernmost reach of Eldin, a point where the mountains ended at the edge of the coast. A fort stood there, the seat of power for the Imperial Governor. The walls were not too high for the fort itself rested upon a plateau among the lower peaks. It was a cloudy day with rain falling off and on all day. No trumpets sounded as we passed. Perhaps the fort was a very sleepy place and the guard patrol was dozing.

A week later we anchored at the port city of Labarna. It was here that the novices and novitiates who had panicked on the first day were hustled away on a launch and not seen again on our voyage.

Labarna was a much larger city than Ailgen-on-the-Coast. There were many tall buildings and towers made of fitted stone and mortar. At least ten merchant ships were moored on the docks being loaded or unloaded. There was a busy mood in the streets.

The land surrounding the city was also better than the mediocre farm land of home. There were large, flourishing farms and many orchards. The hills were greener than the rocky mounds of Eldin.

Captain Radamant marched past me, paused and chuckled,” Put your eyes back in your head, lad. Labarna is a nice little place but there are many greater cities you are going to lay your eyes upon. Eldin may not be the end of the world, but you can see it from there.” He resumed his gait, stroking his long braid. “No, that would be the lands of the Ruk, aye? At the very Southern tip of the Continent?”

“Yes, Captain Radamant. They are our blood enemies from time before memory.”


36

“I sailed under the Horn of the Continent, right past the Ruk, on an expedition. Some came out to us in narrow, wooden boats with carved animal heads on the prows. They paddled very close to us and, to their manly credit, discharged many arrows at us. We returned fire, of course, and they fled, but I was impressed by their warlike nature for being in such rough lands.”

During the next few days, we had to undergo etiguette classes from the Sisters. Great Mother Cenefra would occasionally view the process, but said not a word. We leaned how to bow properly, how to prostrate ourselves without looking foolish, how to eat a meal in a gracious manner, and other mundane acts. But they did matter, the Sisters kept intoning. Uncouth behavior could doom one to a lesser status.

During this time, I also took great pains to study the decorative qualities on the Lady of Eldin. The painting and woodwork were of the highest quality. The wooden statues of the Venerable Ones, situated in key places, were obviously carved by master artists. At evenings with the incense braziers going and the hymns and prayers being chanted, the presence of the Gracious Lady was overwhelming, much aided by the statues.

One day, the Sisters were instructing us how to dance properly. A group of marines played harps, lyres, drums, flutes and tambourines as the session bumbled along. Cumall, like most of the novices, was totally pathetic in performing stately moves. I fared better but the undoubted stars of the day were Bernall and his aristocratic friends.

It came to a halt when an Imperial ship entered the bay. Unlike the blue and white of our vessels, the Imperial galley had a crimson sail with a bright golden crown emblazoned upon it. The painted details were all in shades of gold, yellow and red. Even the oars powering the ship toward the pier were painted red.

Captain Radamant ordered his trumpeter to play a proper salute. The notes carried over the waves, but no reply came back. The trumpeter was ready to sound the salute again, but an insulted Radamant signaled him to do no such thing.

As the galley grew closer we could hear the crack of the whips and the beat of the drums to keep the rowers in time. I could make out no image of the Great Lady upon the vessel. I was shocked beyond belief.



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Cenefra stormed came out from below and stood at the starboard side of the ship, nearest the galley as it skimmed past. She wore no veil and her face was livid. She held up her silver staff in warning.

“Do not mock me or I shall call upon the Goddess Moon to curse you!” Cenefra screamed. “Do not dare to ignore me! You’ve been warned!”

Within a few seconds, a returning salute from a brass trumpet erupted, stiff and with no spirit.

A man in painted golden armor, the captain, took up a speaking horn. “Pardon for the slight, Great Mother. We were unsure about the nature of your ship with all of the flighty music we heard! We thought it might be a floating house of pleasure!”

His crew and marines laughed heartily.

Cenefra pointed her staff straight at him. “Even if I were to stand upon my head, Captain Nobody, I am a Great Mother and deserve the homage given to the Empress!”

The laughter ceased. The captain was back on his horn. “To bring a curse upon an Imperial ship is illegal, madam, no matter who the witch might be!”

The last line was heinous. He was comparing Cenefra to women who practiced magic without the approval of the Great Mothers.

Furious, Captain Radamant grabbed a bow from a nearby archer and strung an arrow, aiming directly at the Captain.

“Renounce your sacrilege!” he yelled at the top of his lungs.” Great Mother Cenefra is of the Second Order, a far more ancient caste than the scoundrels you demand you to lick their filthy sandals!”

The captain merely turned around, his ship moving beyond our anchored vessel, the oars pulling them on as the sail was being gathered in.

Radamant let loose the arrow. It hummed through the breeze, knocking off the captain’s golden helmet. Spontaneously, we all let out a cheer.


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The captain turned and held up his sword, challenging Captain Radamant to a duel in the midst of his angry crew. Radamant dropped the bow and defiantly held up his blade, accepting the challenge.

Cenefra took a few steps toward Radamant. He went to his knees. She bid him to rise and she gave him a decorous kiss on the cheek. We cheered wildly.

Cenefra waved us to be silent.” Wine and sweet meats for all aboard! Great is the Lady and wondrous are Her loyal children!”

As the food was passed out, rumors swirled throughout the Lady of Eldin about what would happen. Two launches, each from the warships and carrying officers, sailed over to us and the staff met with Captain Radamant and Cenefra in private.

Cumall and I situated ourselves by a circle of sailors near the bow. They all were proud of their captain but as to the duel, there was no unanimous belief. One aged sailor with a broken nose mumbled at the end of the gossiping,” Well, we be far away enough from them Three Islands for some blood. Radamant is carrying the very Patroness of Eldin back to the Verandedar. Cenefra has a lot of pull with them old ladies, and I hear is even cozy with the Old One herself.”

Cumall and I retreated a few feet away. “It would be like an adventure story if we got to see them fight it out,” Cumall blathered.” Right out of the legends. Swords clashing between great duelists over the honor of a high-born lady.”

“It would be a dream come true,” I agreed, “but don’t get your hopes up too high. They’ll probably sort it out and the Imperial captain pay a fine for his snooty talk.”

Cumall shoved more sweet meats into his mouth. “Don’t ruin my fun,Skell.” He started choking as he spoke and I slapped him hard on the back.

++++++

The answer was quickly known. That night, the small barge with its blue awning was lowered over the side. The sailors were joined by Cenefra, Captain Radamant and the top officer of the marines. The barge rowed directly for the Imperial warship, docked only a few hundred yards away.


39

Everyone’s eyes were fixed upon the barge landing on the dock right next to the warship. The Sisters read aloud from the Collected Writings of the Venerable Ones to calm us down. No one listened to a word.

Within an hour, the barge returned. Radamant nimbly assisted Cenefra up the step ladder and onto the main deck. The ship was silent until the Great Mother lifted up her arms and smiled.

“Captain Radamant has proven his devotion to the Great Lady and to my humble self. He will face the Imperial captain, whose name I will not utter here, tomorrow at an official duel on the gaming green in Labarna. The Imperial Governor will be the judge for the test of courage. The terms are fair – it is not to the death but only the first wound.”

The sailors began stomping their feet in unison as Captain Radamant went up to the stern deck. The marines took out their swords and clanged them upon their shields. Finally the novices and novitiates joined in, whooping and hollering.

Captain Radamant gracefully soaked this all in, his hands without the slightest shake.

I glanced over at Cenefra. Her expression was one of cool delight, as a noble lady who had just purchased an invincible stallion.

Someone shouted out, “May we witness this act of devotion?”

Cenefra replied sweetly, “Ah, I wish it could be so, but it must be a very private affair because of possible repercussions and all of those such matters.”

My heart sunk. Being out of Eldin was beginning to have some reward to it and then the Great Mother threw cold water all over my naïve craving for feats of daring.

Broken Nose slid up next to me, whispering, “Ya know, lads, there’s a dinghy that’s got to go into Labarna and pick vittles and such for the cook. Going right about the time of the duel, yep.”

“What are you hinting at, sir?” I asked with a dull voice, holding down my excitement.



40

“I lives a lonely life. You lads couldn’t know. My dear old wife is dead and all my kin are scattered to the winds. A little silver can always help an old man through them cold winters, waiting for the next ship.”

“I’m not a noble, sir. But I can probably borrow one silver coin.”

He smiled devilishly.“ Git ready to help the cook staff, lad.”

I rushed away, Cumall right at my heels. “What about me, Skell?”

“Can you get a silver piece?”

He hung his head like a pup.

“I’ll tell you how the duel goes, if I even get to see it at all. This sad old sailor might be playing pirate with me.”

But he was not. Come morning, a sailor’s hat and cloak over my clothes, I was aboard the dinghy heading for the pier. I had my pearls and the remaining two silver coins in my hidden pockets. Broken Nose was beaming at me as if I was one of his long lost bastard sons, showing off the few gnarly teeth still in his head.

The pier was also the fish market. The yelling and smells were overwhelming, but Broken Nose pushed me through the crowd to the edge of the city and a main boulevard winding its way up a hill.

“Go on up this grand street, here. Don’t veer off no way, no how. It goes to the top, and at the top there’s the green and the fortress, and that’s where the duel will be at. Remember if you git caught, I had nothing to do with this, true?”

I nodded. We shook hands and off I went, a puff of smoke up a chimney.

Close to the pier was the unseemly section of Labarna. I saw my first pleasure houses, a fancy word for taverns with absolutely no morals. Eldin was not only poor but a land where open vice brought quick retaliation. Not in Labarna and the reason was obvious, most of the men frequenting the pleasure houses were Imperial troops. Many were passed out on the cobbled street right in front of the doors. Thick incense poured out from inside the darkened rooms.

41

Within a few blocks, the surroundings improved. I noticed a small altar to The Great Lady beneath a lovely statue, and there were enough offerings on the altar to show that piety was not dead in Labarna.

I noticed a band of Sisters out shopping for groceries among a row of vegetable stalls. There they were, talking and laughing, holding hands as they carried their wicker baskets. I had never seen that in my entire life. The hamlet was too far away from the Sanctuary for the Sisters to just stroll in and shop. They grew their own food. Here were living, breathing Sisters out having a chat, not being all serious or preaching about virtue.

“They’re just girls,” I muttered to myself. Two were very pretty, even.

The buildings began turning into fine mansions with guards out front to ward off any unwanted guests. Fine women were carried about in sedan chairs and a few nobles were riding mules because of the steep tilt of the boulevard. No one gave me a thought.

I spotted a statue standing at the crest of the hill, an ancient bronze work of a warrior, the metal long gone to a dusky green over the centuries. Halting at the base of the warrior, I caught my breath and gazed upon the green.

It was a field of short clover with statues sitting on the edges. No seats or stands.

At one end, several men were tossing javelins with a practiced style. At the other, a group of children were leaping over a short fence made of long poles. Various runners jogged about the green at different speeds, each one in his own thoughts.

I suddenly felt ashamed of what I was doing, like some sort of thief who was not stealing from folks asleep, but stealing honor from men dueling for the sake of honor, the honor of Great Mother Cenefra, the honor of the Goddess Moon.

What was I thinking? I felt ashamed and wondered if I was just another hayseed from a backward land pretending to be something I was not. What had I ever done to be among the elite, those with culture and wealth and art and true sports? I turned to head back down.

Coming up the boulevard was a serious Captain Radamant marching beside Cenefra, who was astride a pure white mule, leading a few officers from our ships. Behind them

42

came the Imperial captain and his band, drinking rather merrily and brandishing swords in jest.

Between the two groups was a corpulent man in an open sedan chair, his red finery draped in medallions and honors; clearly the Governor of Labarna here to act as the judge. He was scowling and twitching in his padded seat. His poor servants groaned under his weight, the poles bending.

I turned and ran across the green, going straight for the nearest bushes. Near a crumbling statue of a muscular man holding a spear, I dove headfirst into the shrubbery. Keeping on my stomach, I turned and viewed the dueling parties stepping across the green to an open space. They had not seen me.

Captain Radamant and the Imperial captain began warming up, stretching their bodies slowly, then taking swords and working them slowly, especially Radamant who moved the blade in slow motion, thinking about each movement.

Cenefra stayed upon the mule. “What is your name, captain? I would know the man who holds the Gracious Lady in such low esteem.”

The captain bowed slightly. “Captain Montesphoro, a pure son of the Island of the Emperors, madam. I do not hold the Goddess Moon in low esteem. I hold the tradition of the Dread Emperor with greater loyalty, that is all.”

The Governor butted in,” Radamant…. Montesphoro… I am impartial in this matter, thus I beg you once more to set aside the duel for the unity of the True Religion and the Empire.”

Both men shook their heads. Radamant chose a three-foot short sword and a dagger. Montesphoro grabbed a longer, heavier blade and tied a tiny shield upon his left forearm, his weak arm.

One of the Imperial officers handed a golden cup to Montesphoro. He poured out a trickle of wine on the grass. “An offering to the Emperor and to the Lady Moon who made him the Great Lord.” He drank the rest in one gulp and tossed it over his shoulder for good luck.

The same officer handed Radamant a silver cup. He knelt and poured most of the wine on the grass. “All that I am belongs to the Blessed Lady, the One above all others, the
43

Mother of us all.” He took a tiny sip and stood. “And, of course, in honor of my great friend and spiritual guide, Great Mother Cenefra.” He drank again then handed the cup to the Governor.

The two stood ten paces apart from each other. The Governor held up a red scarf with his crest upon it. “A duel of honor to the first wound, gentlemen. No more.”

“Or no less,” Captain Montesphoro quipped with a grin.

The Governor dropped the scarf.

Montesphoro charged straight at Radamant, taking a huge swing at his head. Radamant calmly blocked it and let him slide a few steps on past him.

The tactics were obvious from the start. Montesphoro was younger and stronger and quicker, thus he meant to simply wear Radamant down. Radamant was thoughtful, used as little motion as possible, looking for the exact right moment to strike.

After several intense minutes, Radamant looked to be at the disadvantage. Montesphoro had come very close to wounding him twice while Radamant had never even gotten close. I was seized with anxiety for my captain. Montesphoro did not mean to wound him, at least not a slight wound to satisfy honor.

“A-ha!” barked Montesphoro as he lowered his blade. He had struck Radamant on his left shoulder, drawing a trickle of blood. “But that is not a wound, is it Captain Radamant? More of a scratch, aye?”

Radamant didn’t even look at the shoulder. “Less than a scratch.”

As Montesphoro readied to attack again, Radamant went to one knee, holding up his sword and dagger.

“Are you conceding, you coward?” Montesphoro spat out.

“Hardly, lad. I’ve known real war, son. This is play.”

Red with anger, Montesphoro charged. From where I was I could see what Radamant had done. He had become a tiny target and was down very low. I held my breath.

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Montesphoro swung down at Radamant who deflected the blow with his sword, stuck out his balancing leg and tripped the hothead at his ankles. As Montesphoro fell, Radamant sliced his ear off with his dagger, as the young lion went face down in the clover, blood pooling around his head.

“A trick! A damn trick!” he screamed as he felt for his ear. “It’s gone! Find it! Find it!” His panic grew. He cried. “I demand an apology, and, and…. reparations, yes, reparations for such a sham.”

His fellow officers rushed to his side.

Radamant turned to the Governor, who shouted, “The duel is finished! There has been a serious wound after great bravery exhibited by both gentlemen. To hospital for Captain Montesphoro, at my palace nearby. Let him use my chair!” He turned to Radamant and bowed. He kissed Cenefra’s hand.

Without a thought in my head, I ran out and yelled victoriously. Great Mother Cenefra, beaming with victory, beckoned me with her finger.

++++++

Back at the Lady of Eldin, my punishment was swift and sure. Cenefra chose one of the marines to strip off my tunic at the top and tie me to the side of the ship on the main deck.

She intoned to the crowd, “I expect to be obeyed. Dyess urnif Skell disobeyed my direct command. He must be punished, no matter what his motivation may have been.”

The marine held a flexible rod in his hand and commenced to briskly whip me six times. I had already sworn to myself that I wouldn’t utter a sound, not a whimper or even a tear. I did not, though my back was hot with pain. I didn’t swoon as they released me.

Before I could move, though, Cenefra was right behind me, whispering into my ear. “You’re a brave young man, Skell. I admire your will and cunning.”

She rushed off. I turned around, quite dizzy, to view Cumall coming up to me with a cup of water and an apple, a very mothering expression on his worried face.

Thursday, June 5, 2008

Chapter One


Goddess Moon Statue



Mural of Skell,The Hero-King







Eldinic Militia Man


Ruk Warrior

THE
GODDESS MOON

PART ONE

“JOURNEY”

Six Chapters


Written by Gary K. Nomeland

A Serial Novel Created for Diversion
and
Serious Thought When the Reader is So Inclined


New West Crash Books
Copyright 2008




CHAPTER ONE

“Service to the Glorious Lady is the highest merit”
The Scroll of Emaklee

++++++

I write this to my beloved ones, so that you may know
what truly happened

++++++

Before I ever left my mother’s womb, I was already dedicated to serving Her. My parents were tenant farmers, struggling to raise a family on a plot of dirt close to the Eldin coast. My mother was terrified that a woman who hated her had put a curse on her after a nasty fight in the marketplace. The woman was thought to be dangerous. She was extremely beautiful and didn’t seem to age normally, thus the locals believed she might be consorting with spirits. And she was often seen heading out to Winding Snake Canyon, a known habitat of troublesome demons. Driven by her terror, Mother consecrated me before birth to the Goddess, an act certain to break any curse. I don’t know if this odd woman had any power to harm my mother, but I hold no resentment towards Mother for choosing my path before I ever took a breath. She did what she thought was best for the family. Of that I have no doubt.

As an infant, a tiny copper image of the Moon was hung about my neck with a leather string. I was never allowed to take it off, not even when I bathed. Not even when I went swimming naked with my companions in the cold sweetness of the Ocean, the waves toying with us like bobbing wooden dolls.

The first time I remember visiting our local shrine I was four years of age. The holy site stood atop a low hill, a clay wall encircling a white statue of Her in long flowing robes. Her hair rolled down her back as if sea foam, a jeweled crown gleaming upon the statue’s head. Her face was passive but seemed to radiate a serene maternal concern. Behind Her, on a wall of painted brick, were constellations and comets and falling stars (Her special omens), all dominated by a massive full Moon. Silver white. Encrusted with pearls. And Eldin was a poor, poor land. Such was the power of the Goddess in Eldin.



2

Mother was holding my sweaty hand. An ancient skeletal Sister, burning sacred herbs on hissing coals in a brazier and hawking cures for all sorts of diseases, noticed my lunar image and made her way through the ragged mass of worshippers.

She muttered a prayer over me and set her bony fingers upon my unruly hair. Then she sighed. It was a very sad sound. A mournful exhale full of a long life and expressing much heartache and pain. As I think about it now, maybe she was communicating something else to me, something I was to discover later in my life. Acceptance of Fate? The death of dreams?

Eldin was a difficult land to raise a family. I was the oldest of six, four boys and two girls. The coast was rugged, tilting up to the coastal plain, a region of thin soil where most people lived on small farms in mud-walled, thatched-roofed homes. Ours was a long rectangle composed of one room, though we did have a mud floor covered with straw for warmth. There was a tiny wooden shack for tools behind the house and a low storage room, only three feet high, made of stacked stones and a roof of tree limbs also nearby. Father, as most of the other farmers, would fish in the Ocean’s coves and hunt for meat, mostly rabbits or wild goats or the small coastal deer. We had a small “escape hole” in the back wall in case of a robber or an attack by the Ruk.

The plain, thinly covered with scrub trees, worked its way toward the foothills to the West, where more adventuresome farmers lived. They hunted more and their homes were made of wooden logs. Further up into the mountains, the Eldin folk were hunters, loggers and even a few miners. They dug for copper and semi-precious stones that had some value after being polished. We had little to do with them other than commerce. They spoke our language strangely and seemed uncomfortable when the number of people near them was more than a handful.

The mountain peaks were uninhabited, unless you counted demons or ghosts. On the other side was the West, where the mountains supposedly fell sharply down, melting into a never ending plain. There were supposedly no passes through to the West, only the Moon reigning above the snowy peaks.

All of us were fascinated by the Moon. We watched it wax and wane. Observed it sail across the night sky as a boat of light, designating the months and seasons of our lives.

We suffered extreme fear when it was entirely eaten up by the Night. I can still hear my little sisters weeping and moaning in terror as Mother and Father consoled them. I

3

didn’t cry much, but I shook like a leaf in the wind, my teeth chattering, afraid to search the sky until the silver disk appeared again.

The Scroll of Creation said that the Glorious Lady did not want to be observed constantly, so she selected Huyal, the Dark Cloud, to slowly cover the Moon in a regular pattern. She might have desired it so, but we found it terrifying when the Sacred Orb was only a sliver in the heavens above.

Daytime was for labor and mundane affairs. The nights were for contemplation of the Great Lady and Her Sacred Truths. We chanted and prayed before we went to our blankets spread over low wooden pallets, building up the resolve to face another day of struggling in the fields.

A small observatory run by the Society of Scholars stood on a hill near our farm. It was composed of a tower with a room at the very top with an opening out upon the sky. Lodd, the rotund Scholar stationed there, had only a small piece of glass called a “magnifier” and mirrors to study the Moon. He was one of my favorite adults to pester. We spent many nights studying the Sacred Orb, with Lodd endlessly pontificating (especially when he had been smoking gee weed) and me acting as a sponge for his numerous theories and wild ruminations.

When I was about eight, I asked Lodd if the Sun had a goddess or god.

Lodd snorted crudely, insulted by my stupidity. “The Sun is a sphere populated by demons, ghosts and evil spirits. Can you stare directly at it? No! Because it would blind you, it would give you horrible headaches and even drive you insane. What type of deity would live in such a hostile world? Aye? The Sun is needed in the cosmos, but it has no deity. There is only one deity, the Goddess Moon, and we know that she came down to our pitiful world in the guise of Inistra, taught us how to live and understand life, created the True Religion, and defeated many monsters intent upon destroying our race! Haven’t you been listening to the Sacred Stories?”

He puffed on his clay pipe. The gee weed made his eyelids droop. I could tell by his darting eyes that he was seeing things. “I’ve actually made out a few of the palaces located up there. I’ve been mapping the surface for years, preparing to release the penultimate document concerning the Sacred World. I will be returned to the elite of the Society once again, dining in the magnificent halls of the Three Islands, lauded far and wide as a mind of the first magnitude.”

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Lodd gazed about him at the cluttered room, dusty charts and manuscripts covering everything, madly searching for his leather pouch of gee weed. “If you’re fortunate, you’ll become a Scholar, not some lowly Scribe, and instruct the high and mighty Sisters and the Great Mothers. They’re often so lax in their studies. Lazy. Indolent. Pampered. All they crave are beautiful robes and to stand out at the gaudy rituals… women…”

“I would hope some day to write something grand as a Scholar, Master Lodd.”

“When you get to the Blessed Island, don’t be afraid to have your own opinions and to stand up to all of the official nonsense. You’re a smart lad.”

His words shocked me, showing a degree of fondness I had never felt from him before. I almost felt like hugging him.

Lodd finally located his pouch of gee weed beneath a stack of drawings.

“By the Emperor’s ugly teeth, Skell, how come you were too stupid to find my pouch?”

So much for tender affection. Yet he was still my mentor and loaned me every text I ever read out of school when I was a child. Whenever I returned them, he’d always give the works a thorough examination to make certain I hadn’t rumpled them even more than he had done. Frankly, they were all in shabby condition.

Lodd was also the first person to show me in the Scroll of Creation an obscure passage where the Goddess Moon has a conversation with a spirit referred to as “The Master of Daylight Hours”. However, he would not discuss it with me. He even marked out the reference with his quill and ink.

Three years later, old Lodd fell out of the tower and broke his neck on the rocks below. Folks claimed that his pipe, filled with gee weed, was found next to his lifeless body. His works never reached the Blessed Isle. A group of Imperial soldiers came by and cleaned out the tower, burning all of his personal works, and turned the observatory into a guard post. I was the only native at his funeral, chanting the prayers for his soul’s ascent to the Sacred Orb along with a cranky younger Sister who came over from the nearby Sanctuary to perform the ritual as a meritorious act.

++++++


5

In our hamlet, the education was handled by a Scribe, not a Scholar. Gammen was young and always seemed very nervous and agitated. He kept trying to grow a beard even though he could only produce patches of reddish fuzz on his cheeks. He always smelled of sweat and his breath was awful. None of us ever wanted him to get too close to us in class.

Gammen loved the Scroll of Creation. He would crouch over the manuscript and read it as if he were an actor performing in a grand theater. “All was darkness/ A shooting star traveled through the arc of the black sky/ The Goddess, as the Mother of All, gazed about in loneliness/ She took some of the darkness in Her hands and rubbed it so quickly that it heated up and glowed white/ She tossed it out and it became the Moon/ She stood upon Her new domain/ Out of the shining soil She formed the Leeads and Desdrads to serve Her/ They set about building Her palace and gardens.”

“How big was the palace?” questioned an eager, pious girl with no front teeth.

“Bigger than the Continent.”

Some ooh’s and ah’s gave him a superior smile. Gammen loved to feel that he was better than common rural folk. But, he came from a village up North much like ours and prayed constantly to be sent to a fine city to teach.

“Back to our readings… Then Our Gracious Lady beheld the darkness below Her and desired to fill it up/ She cut strands of Her hair and dropped them/ These became the dry land and mountains/ She sliced a vein with a dagger and released Her precious blood, drop by drop, and these became the oceans and rivers/ Beholding that She had a place to stand, She stepped down and molded the world even more/ To create plants, She blew upon the waters and made ice and carved them/ When she stuck them into the earth, they blossomed and grew/ She wanted animals to play among the forests, so She molded them out of the clay of the Sacred River Ish/ As soon as the mud dried, they became alive/ She sculpted the fishes and the sea creatures from rocks at the bottom of the Great Lake/ The Divine One gazed all about Her and the sheer beauty of the created world made Her cry/ Her tears dropped onto the dust and instantly transformed themselves into men and women and children/ Thus the human race was born.”

I blurted out, “How was the Sun created?”

Gammen raised his eyebrow at me then glanced further down the scroll. “As our ancestors hunted and fished and farmed to stay alive, they grumbled to the Divine Lady
6

about always working in the darkness of the Night/ This displeased Her, but She cared for these new creatures, thus She captured the reflection of the Moon in the ocean and polished it brightly with Her robes/ She hurled it into the sky, and Day was created/ However, She did not want the Sun to become puffed up about himself/ She commanded the Sun to stay hidden behind a huge blue mountain in the sky for at least half of the time/ And ordained that the Moon would also be present in the light of Day.”

He stared out through a window at the Sun’s position.” We’ve studied enough. Time to return to help your families with their work. Go, go! Without work our lives have very little meaning.”

Everybody trudged out, most not wanting to face their chores.

“Skell.”

I turned around and faced Gammen, making a deep bow from the waist to impress him.

“When you are taken into the service of the Gracious Lady, don’t meddle with questions concerning the Sun.”

“Why not, Scribe Gammen?”

“It’s a very controversial subject on the Three Islands, better left alone. The Sisters and Great Mothers will lead you in the ways you should follow. That eccentric Lodd, the Scholar in the tower, did he ever put any strange ideas in your head?”

“Never, Scribe Gammen. Master Lodd always praised the traditional teachings.”

“Run along then, and think of other things, Skell.”

I bowed again and ran out of the thatch roofed schoolhouse, looking for some friends to catch up with on the way back to our farm.

Of course, when I grew older, I didn’t heed his advice. How much simpler my life would have been had I listened.

++++++

7

I was thirteen. It was my time to join the society of men. Roughly twenty of us budding men were brought together during the Halas Festival, celebrating the first half of the calendar year. Our fathers, or closest adult male relative, built small huts of branches on the beach and ordered all of the women to stay away. The women cheerfully performed the ceremonial Grumbling Ritual (my mother was particularly good at it) and then took off on their own, ready to enjoy several days without any men. Some of the women got drunk or smoked gee weed, while others prayed, chanted and gossiped at the shrine to the Blessed Lady. I heard later that Mother fell in with the first group, putting away cups of wine, singing melancholy songs of love, complaining about her life of drudgery and spewing forth memories of a young lad she once loved who had drowned in the Ocean.

Father and I went into the hut we shared with three other pairs. My father was a very quiet man, hunched over with years of back breaking labor, yet he was very kind to man
and beast. Mother was the disciplinarian in our family. She ruled the roost until Father would take her out into the fields and impress his opinion upon her. She never went against his wishes.

The initiation gave me my fondest memories of him. I saw him as a strong man for the first time. Every man deferred to his guidance during the rituals, and he had a kind word for everyone.

On the first day, we fasted all day long in our various huts. Father lit a small fire, grabbed a small drum and began a quiet rhythm as he spoke in our ancestral tongue, not the Common Language.

“Our fathers came to Eldin in the Time of Mists, when monsters and heroes and demigods still roamed this region. The first Hero-King was Skell. He built the Stone Fort, which stands at the top of Freill Mount. He defeated the demon Hikk, the protector of the Ruk Folk, whom he drove down to the lands to the South. He won many battles against the Ruk chieftans, built a ring of forts to protect our people, and set up many stone altars to the ancient demigods. This was before the True Religion came to us centuries later, thus we must not harshly judge the greatest Hero-King in this matter. When he died fighting the giant White Bear, he was buried in the Field of Flowers below the Stone Fort, where all of our Hero-Kings were buried.”

Father went through a swift chronicle of the Hero-Kings until Eldin was conquered by the Dread Emperor. “Let us now be silent and contemplate our great heritage, and hope

8

if the Glorious Lady is willing, we may again have our own Hero-Kings to rule us from the Stone Fort.”

The hut was totally silent. I couldn’t believe my ears. Father had just expressed, on the face of it, treason against the reigning Emperor and not one man had blinked at the words. I had the sense that the world was not at all what it seemed to be. Father had never said one political comment to me in my entire life. Now he had just stated that the men of Eldin cared nothing for the Imperial rule, and this was no simple complaining of the poor. They wanted our own rulers. Another boy gulped with terror. We really were joining the society of men.

Father glanced outside the hut. The Sun was going to sleep in a bed of pinks and oranges. “Outside. The initiates must cast off their childhood.”

Within minutes, all of us were standing at the shore, the Sun half-covered by the mountain peaks.

“Strip off your clothes!” Father intoned sternly.

All of the initiates stripped down and piled our clothes near the cliff wall.

“Bathe in the great Ocean, but do not swim! No playing! No cavorting around!”

We slid through the breaking waves until we reached waist-high water and began bathing. A pair of jaunty dolphins swam nearby. Everybody smiled. A good omen.

Back on the beach, the men herded us back into our huts with switches, drawing stingers of blood on our salty skins. Once inside, Father stoked up the fire with dried junilap leaves. The smoke was overwhelming, causing all of us to cough harshly. I sat there waiting for more talk from him, but nothing was said.

I suddenly jerked up, realizing I had passed out by staring at the dead fire and the smoke barely evident in the hut. I cleared my throat, noticing that the other initiates had only awakened also.

Father stared at me. “What did you dream?”

“Nothing.”

9

“What did you dream?”

A picture leaped into my forehead. I was in the ancient army of Skell the King, fighting a wild band of Ruk warriors in a marshy area. My arms were exhausted from swinging my war axe, yet they kept coming at me. A Ruk jumped me from behind, taking me down into the fetid water. I thrashed about, certain I would drown. Suddenly, I was pulled up by the scruff of the neck by the Hero-King himself, a muscular man with a great beard, his shield protecting me from the flint arrowheads of the Ruk archers.

He leaned in close to me, his wide face a mass of scars, and he chuckled, “Remember to hold your breath.” That was all. I told Father.

“And you have a question for me.”

Without thinking, I blurted out something which had nothing to do with the dream. “How do you and Mother feel about me leaving you for holy service?’

Father, taken aback, tilted his head down, eyes upon his lap. He tried to keep his voice firm, but I could hear the emotion behind it. “We’re proud of your service to the Great Lady, of course… of course… We are fortunate to have your brothers and sisters to console us and to help us run the farm in your absence.” He glanced up at me, a slight moistness in his eyes. “Of course, we regret the terrible incident with that mad woman that led to the promise, for we have always wanted all of our children to live close by, to give us the chance to see you raise your own families, to be grandparents… We hope and pray you will be assigned by the Great Mothers back here in Eldin if such a chance should arise.”

I barely touched Father’s knee. “I want to return.”

He smiled sadly and turned to an initiate next to him and the discussion of their dreams began. I wondered what the morning would bring.

++++++

It brought about us sitting in a group on the beach, still without a bite of food, listening to Father and others drone on about the ancient code of law given to us by Skell the Hero-King, laws such as, “If a man accidentally stabs another man with his dagger after drinking wine or beer, he shall be brought forth before the village elders and the witnesses shall attest to the matter. The offender shall give the injured man
10

one-fourth of his belongings. If the offender owns nothing, he will be stabbed in his weak arm by an elder and not allowed to partake of strong drink for 60 days.”

All of the initiates began nodding off out of sheer boredom and hunger.

When the recitation of the code was finished, the men started painting our bodies with red, green and blue paint made from berries. We were covered with drawings of animals and fish and conical helmets and weapons. After the painting was finished, we initiates each gobbled down a single piece of thin bread, often eaten by ancestral soldiers during long marches. We sat in front of fires learning long chants and poems extolling the virtues of our people, again in the Eldinic tongue. We crawled into the huts for sleep at a very late hour.

The morning brought profound change. The men dragged us out into the Ocean where they playfully dunked us in the waves, washing off every vestige of the paint. Then we feasted upon a grand breakfast, including as much wine and beer as our hearts desired.

Needless to say, there was a lot of vomiting afterwards. As we ate, the men wove kilts of thick grasses for us – the common attire of our ancestors in hot weather – and put them on us, giving us plenty of hugs and friendly slaps on the backs. They talked to us in a more respectful tone and used words to describe us as true men.

Father instructed us to wear these kilts for five days before we could return to our usual clothing. Every adult hugged each “new man” and uttered a blessing, “Live in the honor of the ancestors.” Father even kissed me on my lips, highly unusual for him.

The grand conclusion was a game of ablal between the newly confirmed men and the elders. In ablal, each team kicks a leather ball high into the air and members of either side try to catch it in the midst of a rough melee. If you catch a ball kicked by a teammate, you get a point. If your opponents catch it, they get to kick. To win the game a team must score 19 points. The game is exceedingly rough and our elders slaughtered us in three games, but we did score a few points to uphold our pride.

Father kicked the ball higher than anyone else and he also jumped very well in the crowd fighting for the ball. When the games were finished, the other men fashioned him a crown of leaves and named him the “master of the festival”. After singing a song, “Skell and the White Bear”, we went off toward our homes.


11

As we walked home, Father said that the ancient ones played ablal with the head of a Ruk stuffed with straw. He claimed that we originally learned the game from the Ruk
who played the game with the severed heads of our ancestors. I was glad we had the leather ball.

When we arrived back home, Mother called me her “second husband” (a traditional phrase for the new adult) and handed me a new blanket to sleep on. She set about doing my chores for that day despite being queasy with too much drink. She warned me not to harm the kilt for it was to be put aside as a family memento. I did detect a look of pride in her face.

I did not get to wear the kilt the full five days because a Ruk war band entered our area the next evening.

++++++

I was in the doorway watching Father hoeing out in the fields, rejoicing in my newfound manhood and trying not to think of my future already given to the Great Lady. Two exhausted men riding boney nags rode up a trail to reach him. He offered them water as they wildly waived their arms, obviously upset. Father came striding rapidly to the house through the crops.

Father charged in, heading straight for his battered chest against the wall.

Mother, who was cleaning out a few clay pots, asked, “Why’re you so agitated, Dyess? If it’s about the cloth I bought –“

Father barked out, “Don’t be so foolish, woman! A band of Ruk attacked some of the outer farms at dusk, burning and pillaging. Talk is they’ve killed around twenty folk and have taken another thirty as slaves. Those damn, worthless Imperial guards!

Father pulled out a dull, short, bronze sword and a sharpening stone. He immediately began working over the blade.

“Skell! Out in the shed is a spear behind the rakes and tools. Bring it here! And take off your ceremonial kilt!”

When I returned with the spear, Mother already had the other children gathered around and held a big shawl full of food.
12

Father placed his hand on Mother’s shoulder.” If they break through the militia, go to the cave near Old Woman Rock. They have never found it.”

Mother hugged him warmly, holding on for a few moments longer as tears streamed down her cheeks. She then gently ruffled up my hair and touched my cheek. “Do whatever Father says. He’s a wise man in a scrape.”

Father and I hugged my siblings as they rushed out behind Mother.

Father and I were in the meeting field in a half hour. There were already more than a hundred men arguing loudly about what to do. The Lord of the Tower (the post created after Lodd died) was an idiotic drunk from the Three Islands, sent down to Eldin to keep obvious disgrace from his family. Everyone was ignoring him which made him act even more like a petulant child. He had cavalrymen and archers with him.

Finally he screamed. The men quieted down somewhat. “I have already drawn up a plan for the defense of my district! It is my duty and my right. These stinking barbarians are trying to gain revenge for last year’s raid to gain tribute for the Dread Emperor. They will make for the shrine to profane it and not the Sister’s Sanctuary because the Sanctuary is defended by a high wall and over fifty guards. Stay in bands and roam about as spies. If you find them, send a messenger and get me at the shrine!”

A few men applauded politely. Most were silent. In a huff, the Lord rode off with dirty glances from most of the men. An older man with one gouged out eye climbed up on the stones piled in the field’s center. “Now that the fop is gone who forces us to pay taxes to an unseen ruler, what are we really going to do with these Ruk bastards?”

More heated debate followed. Without my knowing, Father had inched his way through the crowd and toward the stones. The One-Eyed Man pulled him up. The throng slowly calmed down.

“What are the Ruk really looking for?” Father shouted.

“Revenge against us!” bellowed several gruff voices.

“Our Lord Protector knows little of the centuries our blood feud has lasted, and it may never end! The Ruk are here to steal and burn and kill until they’ve had enough and then they’ll run back home. The shrine is too close to the Ocean.”

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“What do we do?” asked the One-Eyed Man.

“They’ll attack tomorrow morning when the Goddess’ powers are lessened by the Daytime, probably picking off more farms out towards the hills. Their war band will move down further tonight, probably at the Skor Ravine, to surprise anybody still left behind.”

“And? And?” Voices cried from the milling crowd.

“We take the entire militia to the ravine now, blend in with the rocks and shrubbery while it’s Night. When they come sneaking down, we will be ready. The Ruk hate surprises.”

Father’s plan was approved overwhelmingly by a voice vote and the quick march began in earnest.

The trek up to the ravine was difficult. Father was at the head of the ragged line, consulting with other militia leaders. I found myself half-running alongside the One-
Eyed Man, who was chewing gee weed and spitting every so often, but he still had his wits about him.

“Why do the men listen to my father?”

“Dyess is a damn good militia man. Over the past twenty years or so, he’s shown his bravery against the Ruk and even a pirate band or two. He cares nothing for glory, only the people.”

My heart swelled with pride. Father had never mentioned any brave exploits.

“Of course, it helps that your father is in the line of descent of Skell the Great, may his memory be honored forever.”

“What?” I was flabbergasted.

“Oh, there’s plenty of folks who can claim that too, but Dyess has a damn good blood line. If we weren’t ruled by the Empire, your father would likely be a high constable, commanding an outpost with soldiers under his command.”


14

I blinked at him with disbelief. Again I had that sense that life was not what it seemed to be. All of my life, we were nothing but poor tenant farmers struggling to feed ourselves. Now I discovered that we were a family wronged by conquest and the affairs of the world. A very unkind world. We had lineage back to Skell the Great King, a figure of myth and reverence. I felt unsteady. The very earth was topsy-turvy.

“He doesn’t whine about the harsh lives we lead. He trusts life to the Goddess and goes about his business with dignity.”

I raced towards Father still in the lead. I bumped into him accidentally. He could see a new light in my eyes.

“Are you feeling well?”

“Extremely well, Father.”

“Make certain you stay right next to me during the fighting. I’ll keep an eye on you and you keep an eye on your old geezer,” he laughed as he tweaked my nose. I sensed that he was actually enjoying the prospect of physical danger. I dropped a few feet back and let the militia leaders continue their discussion.

We deployed on both sides of the ravine, stacking boulders and brush to hide our positions. The sunset faded out. Father stood up, waved his sword and everyone went completely silent and into hiding.

We sat for hours. We never spoke. Father kept an eye out for any suspicious movement while I gathered more rocks and brush for our defense. He sharpened his blade with a slow, constant rhythm. Each new minute made him a hair more anxious. He feared his strategy was wrong, but he tried to hide it from me, giving me an occasional grim smile.

It was a quarter Moon. The powers of the Great Lady would not be all-powerful.

There was a slight thrashing of bushes near us. It was the One-Eyed Man. He whispered, “The others say you are wrong. They want to retreat to the Eckriss farm, where the two streams meet, and talk things over.”

Father shook his head no and held up one finger.

“One more hour? What if you’re wrong?”
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Father kept up his solitary index finger.

“One more hour!” The One-Eyed Man slipped away.

A cloud rolled in front of the Sacred Orb. Father glanced up, beads of sweat covering his forehead. He mumbled a prayer.

“Ancestral guides… Hero-Kings… friends of hearth and field… send our enemies into our hands and I will honor you with drink offerings at the altar on Freill Mount.”

The cloud drifted on. The pale moonlight revealed a row of Ruk raiders lazily picking their way down the center of the ravine. Father sighed and grabbed a handful of earth.

They moved in a sloppy fashion, fully confident of being alone. Some even stopped to relieve themselves on bushes and rocks, giggling lightly and obviously making crude jokes. The Ruk are a small, dark folk – black hair and eyes, leather brown skin. Skell the Great’s victories drove them to the bottom of the Continent, a harsh region bedeviled by cruel weather. They build their villages along the rocky coast in tiny harbors where the men launch out in long canoes to hunt seals and to fish. They also kill bears and other wild beasts on land. Their women gather berries and nuts from trees to bring back to their huts made of animal skins. The raiders wore clothing of stitched skins or fur.

Father whistled out the call of the night hawk.

Someone answered from the other side of the ravine.

The Ruk plodded on, carrying their spears and short bows and war sticks, foot long wooden shafts imbedded with sharpened bone, lethal enough to rip an enemy’s skin to ribbons.

Someone else tried to warble out another night hawk call, but he did it so poorly that the Ruk recognized a human voice. As if with one mind, they turned and ran frantically back up the ravine.

Father stood and shouted, “Out of the bag! Out of the bag!” He grabbed me by the shoulder and pulled me down into the ravine, scraping me up terribly.


16

The first Ruk to reach the top ran into a hail of arrows from our archers lying in wait. Ten of the raiders were hit, turning them back down, screaming profanities and begging for assistance from the animal deities they worshipped.

Ever since Father dragged me out from hiding, nothing seemed real to me. It was as if I were jumping out of a tree except that I could never quite land. Everybody was moving in an odd motion. Even sounds were garbled.

Men were hacking men, rolling around in the dirt, cursing and screaming in each other’s
faces. Howls of pain almost like animals. Father fought with a calm ferocity I could not believe as I protected his back. A Ruk swung a war stick at him. He deftly stepped back, cracked it apart with his sword, and sliced the man’s arm at the elbow. Another raider charged at him with a spear tipped with a sharpened antler. He grabbed the shaft
under his armpit, pulled the surprised Ruk in a circle until he tripped. Father jumped on him and plunged the blade into his thigh.

I could smell the fear mingled with the blood and sweat and fur. One of the boys from the initiation ran past me, his shoulder and arm hanging limp at his side, crushed by a club, headed for safety. Another newly-designated man was lying on the ground, hugging his knees, whimpering like a pup.

We were winning the fight, but the Ruk spirit was far from broken. They pulled back into a circle located around a fierce warrior, a Ruk man tall for their race who wore a headband of bear’s teeth over his long black mane. A ragged scar divided his bent nose. His will alone kept them from crumbling.

Father rushed at Scar Face from behind, but he turned slightly and Father glanced off his hip, unable to cut him or knock him down. Scar Face turned to find Father, who was crawling off into a row of bushes to gather his wind. Scar Face raised his battle stick and went after Father.

Without even thinking, I lunged at him, a whelp trying to bring down a mountain lion. He swirled about, trying to shake me loose, but I grabbed onto his thick hair. I was losing my hold. I reached for his neck. Instead my fingers became entangled in his circlet of teeth. It broke and I rolled off into the blackness, bouncing over a boulder and splashing into a shallow stream.

Scar Face was one me in a flash, his hands choking me, my head beneath the water. I felt a purple darkness overcome me. I consigned my soul to the Great Lady.
17

Suddenly, I was yanked up, coughing and spitting water out of my lungs. The darkness subsided. I lay on the dirt staring up at Father. Scar Face, Father’s sword sticking out of his back, was next to me, shaking with the tremors of oncoming death.

Father leaned in close to my face.”Remember to hold your breath.”

The dream. But Father spoke instead of the Hero-King. I tingled all over, sensing the power of the unseen world swirling all around us and within us. Reality seemed a dark forest beast that scared the wits out of me.

A rock landed on my leg causing me to jerk with pain. The moment was lost.

Father roared hoarsely,”We must follow the birds back to the nest!” In other words, a few Ruk must be allowed to escape in order for us to find their camp and rescue our kin.

At the ravine’s crown, the archers purposefully shot wide of their targets allowing a half dozen raiders to scramble away over the hill.

Thirty men stayed behind to bind the captured Ruk. One Eye claimed the duty of determining who of the enemy was truly dead. He began jabbing the still bodies with a bloody pike, giving the death blow to a few Ruk who were still barely alive.

Father led the rest of us, now down to around sixty, following the Ruk escapees at a safe distance.

++++++

We didn’t reach the encampment until sunrise, a fact that caused some shudders throughout our militia, shudders that the Great Lady was not at Her full powers.

“Trust the ways of the Goddess Moon always ,”Father chided them.” Anyway, we outnumber them five to one, and I can still see Her in the sky.” He pointed at the faded Moon.

The men’s faces lightened up with that consolation.

The Ruk camp was in a small glen filled with trees. When we arrived, they were just beginning to move out, the half dozen survivors of the ravine joining ten warriors

18

guarding the prisoners. There were roughly forty prisoners – children, women, men – tied to the trees, both feet and hands, with stout rope.

Father bellowed something out to them in the Ruk tongue, sending them scurrying around like rodents. A few went over to the prisoners and held obsidian blades to the throats of the young girls.

“They are cowards,” I muttered to Father. “Beasts with no souls.”

“They are frightened and want to talk terms. Go down with me.”

Father and I slowly stepped down into the glen. A Ruk battle chief took a few steps out to meet us in a neutral spot.

“We have you surrounded, “Father said in our language.” You have no escape.”

The battle chief shrugged and responded crudely,”If… we, us… die, many caught… dead.”

“We don’t want you. We want our folk back. You leave them behind, you leave unharmed.”

“What is the rikka, the… the…”

“I know what rikka means. My son, Skell, will be the rikka.”

The Ruk thought it over. I hadn’t a clue to what I meant in the scheme of this haggling. Finally he let out a slight diabolical smile, nodded, and Father turned to me. “Go with him. Stay among the captives and do not move. When the Ruk are gone, we’ll come and get you all.”

My knees nearly collapsed. My own father had made me into some sort of bond to secure their safety. I felt abandoned.

“Can’t you pick an old man?”

“He knows I value you. I might use an old man to trick them and kill them anyway after the prisoners are free.”

19

The battle chief held out his hand. Father put my hand in his and he led me into the area where the captives were bound. Several of the Ruk warriors sneered at me, barely able to contain their desire for revenge, but the chief pushed them away.

The battle chief personally cut every rope with his battle stick. He gestured for everyone to stand. He held up two fingers to Father. Father nodded yes.

Two Ruk warriors disappeared into the forest. The chief pushed five prisoners toward our militia.

This continued until only the battle chief remained with me and a woman.

He smiled again at Father. “You… true… keep balance… with…” Then he jabbered in Ruk for a few minutes.

Father bowed. “There must always be a balance among the sea and sky and land and the animal chieftans in the stars.”

Then he was gone. The woman rushed towards Father. I took my time.

++++++

First came the days of mourning. Father had commanded over 150 men at the ravine. Seventeen died and another forty were wounded, some grievously. Four or five of them died later in the year. At the burying hill, the women sewed burial hoods for the men, an Eldinic tradition having nothing to do with the True Religion. Each hood was in the likeness of the deceased and placed over his head as he was lowered feet first into the “posthole grave”. All of our people are buried, as it were, “standing up”, prepared to meet the next life. Trinkets and mementos are tossed in with the corpse, again for traditional folk beliefs. The Mother and Sisters stood back as we did such rituals, respecting our old ways.

The women at the Sanctuary were so thankful for our triumph that the entire complement of Sisters and even the aged Mother conducted the funerals. They mixed together the holy herbs and spread them over the corpses, as well as daubing the heads with sacred oil made only on the Blessed Isle, just before we covered them with earth. The Mother spoke the Words of Departure.


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“Let go of your corporeal form,
And follow the glow of the silver orb,
The home of the Goddess Moon,
Who summons you to the great feast
In the palaces of the Lunar Paradise,
Where the virtuous souls are welcomed
And immortality is bestowed upon all
Who eat the food and drink the wine
Served at Her illustrious table.”


The Sacred Guards chanted a special hymn in their honor and wept tears of sadness at the courage of the local militia, wishing they had been able to fight with them.

The Lord of the Tower stayed away from the funerals, such was his disgrace and anger at being robbed of his first bloody glory. He claimed that he and his troops were searching the hill country for more bandits.

A feast day of victory followed soon after. The Lord of the Tower did attend this event, basically to get his hands on our prisoners. The Ruk war band had numbered around sixty and sixteen fled at the encampment. Twenty-five had been slain and another twenty were captives, mostly wounded. Instead of following our traditions - having the Ruk men work as laborers for five years and then set free to return home - the Lord felt the need to make himself look powerful.

During the festivities, his men hung all of the captives and shot arrows at the bodies hanging from the trees, laughing and drinking themselves into senselessness. We all knew that the Ruk would hear of this and exact their revenge, hopefully against the Imperial idiot and not us. We had kin captured and living among the Ruk, thus to ultimately release the prisoners meant we might see our neighbors again too. A gloom was cast over the thanksgiving due to this evil man.

Father received many toasts and accolades. Mother got herself appropriately drunk and was most happy to see the gifts of food, clothing and furniture bestowed upon our family. She sunk into a silent moodiness when Father distributed over half of the gifts to the widows and orphans. However, Father knew this was the proper action to take and was pleased to do so. This only increased his honor and prestige among the community.

21

In the burst of charity and goodwill that swept over the feast, even the drunken Lord of the Tower tried to regain some stature. He gifted Father with a silver chain, increasing Father’s wealth a hundredfold. Mother’s moodiness ended. She hid the chain in her undergarments. Without lifting a finger, the family could stay alive on that silver for ten years.

And with Father choosing me as the rikka, I was also hailed as a gallant young man. The Tower Master gave me three silver coins as I kneeled before him. He faked his goodwill then passed out in the grass. But he was outdone by the Mother of the Sanctuary. Since I was promised to the Great Lady, I was led before her, a chubby woman in blue robes sitting in a sedan chair carried by servants.

I prostrated myself fully on the ground before her.

She had a music in her voice even though she spoke with all seriousness.”Our Glorious One has a need of young men such as you in Her service. For whatever you will become, you already are a warrior in the tradition of great holy warriors.”

She dropped a circlet of prayer beads into my hands, each bead an exquisitely polished pearl. I was astounded with such a noble gift and my peasant mind went giddy. Except for two large landowners, I was probably the wealthiest man in the hamlet’s precinct because of the circlet. I immediately hid it beneath my tattered shirt. “A friend tonight and a thief tomorrow”, as the saying went.

“Stay true to the wishes of Our Lady.” I heard the creak of the wooden sedan chair as the servants picked it up and headed back to the Sanctuary.

++++++

Father and I were distant but polite the following days. In my mind I knew what he had done was right, but in my heart I could not believe he would use me as a pawn when others were available.

Father came to me in the fields when I was struggling with a particularly nasty clump of weeds.

“Drop your work and fill a pack for six days. I must fulfill the promise I made on the night of the ambush.” He pivoted and walked away.

22

Father prayed a long time out in the fields all night. Owls circled him a few times, he said, a certain sign of The Lady’s blessing.

We left the next morning. Very early. My treasures were buried in a vegetable patch. Father’s in a row of corn. Only Mother knew where they were located. Father kissed her on the cheek and we walked down the path, each with a walking stick. Father had his sword. I carried the spear.

Despite our limited conversation, Father was in an excellent mood. He pointed out everything to me as if we were in school. He told me about every bird he spotted. He discussed every type of tree and its various purposes. He noted all sorts of animals, wild and domesticated, and spoke in great depth about them. He would pull up herbs and roots and detail the food and healing qualities they possessed.

Once it rained and we found cover beneath the cover of thick trees. We piled leaves over us to help keep in the warmth. Father told a few stories about my grandfather, a good but sickly man who died from a chill. Father then took over as the man of the household at the age of fourteen because Grandmother swore never to marry another man.

At night, we always stayed in a hostel run by Sisters. Safe lodging. Hot food. Just for the price of a little hard work, usually chopping wood. Father told me for the first time that he had a sister who had wanted to join the Holy Community, but she was killed in a Ruk raid before she was ten years old. I was gaining even more respect for this not-so-distant stranger who was my father.

On the fourth day we reached Freill Mount as it rose above the small harbor town of Ailgen-on-the-Coast and the Ocean below. The mount was dotted with dozens of piles of stones covered with thick, mossy grass and wildflowers. These were the graves of the Hero-Kings. Father knelt at every grave and kissed the stones, muttering prayers I had never heard before in Old Eldinish.

All that was left of the fort was the outer wall, and it was covered in long grasses, vines, bushes and small trees sprouting from the rocks and broken mortar. The wall only stood about ten or twelve feet high where it was clearly better preserved. There was one entrance, a narrow gateway about eight feet wide. The lintel beam that had once been the top had been missing for many centuries. As we searched about the site, we found some copper and flint arrowheads buried in the grasses. This had been the seat of Skell’s power, but now it was a home for loneliness and desolation.

23

“We can rebuild it again, make it even greater,” Father stated firmly. “There will be justice for our descendents.”

We came to the resting place of Skell the Great himself. It was a circle of cracked bricks five feet high with a roof of one large slab of narrow stone. Before it was an altar of crumbling brick standing like a leaning pedestal, a brazier at the top. Father gathered dry grasses to fill the brazier and took out a clay cup and a gourd filled with wine. Others had left gifts of wine jugs, spear heads and clay dolls in the likeness of Skell.

He lit the grasses with his striking stone and poured small amounts of wine into the fire from the cup, just enough to allow the fire to burn.

“I give you thanks, Great Skell, Father of our people, for the victory you gave to us at the ravine. I do this in no way lessening the glory deserved to the Glorious Lady Moon, but as a son of Eldin. I know that you are not among the truly blessed on the Sacred Orb, yet you still reside in the Garden of Virtue reserved for the meritorious during the Time of Ignorance, and that your powers were allowed to assist us. Honor to you, Father Skell, and to the ancestors who rest with you in the Garden.”

Father poured all of the wine on the flames, reducing them to sweet smoke. He waved his hands through the smoke and gestured for me to do the same. He sat down by the altar, gazing at all of the beauty that lay below us. I sat down also, but not too close.

“Skell, if I would have lost you I would’ve wanted to die, for you are my favorite child and the soul I feel the closest to. But I have no regrets concerning the rikka agreement. It was my great love for you that made the accord possible. Sometimes one must risk what is most dear in order for your enemy to trust you.” Tears illumined his eyes.

Slowly, I reached out for his hand and held it. “I know you were right, Father. I’m just a silly boy who thinks he knows what is best, and now I see that I know close to nothing.”

“Son, I would not lose you for the world.”

My eyes wandered towards the Ocean, giving Father time to gather his composure. The Sun had burnt off most of the morning fog and a number of fishing boats were out. A small, tubby merchant ship, one that likely only traveled a few hundred miles up and down the coast, was being unloaded on the dock. Our unimportant place in the world seemed safe. Sea gulls floated through the stiff breeze.
24

A ship rounded the great rock bounding one side of the harbor.

Another ship came right after it, its sail billowed out by the wind.

And a third. A much larger vessel. A much finer craft from where I could see.

All of the sails were blue and bore the insignia of a full white moon in the center.

I pointed to them. “Father. That is almost a whole fleet for Ailgen.”

Father gazed up and swallowed thickly. “Emissaries from the Sacred Court of the Blessed Island. There will be a Great Mother aboard the large ship.”