Minzkala Read online

  I heard the deck hands talking about staying another night until the storm moved through. There’s no way they could get back to the Port of Nebal today.

  I started unloading the village’s trade goods. Normally I hang around and talk to a few of the men from Maralune. I like to get caught up with what’s going on in the mainland.

  But I felt somewhat solemn that afternoon, ever since I had that invisible premonition. Glimpses of my mother ran through my head, and of the Ancients…and the Legion’s dog-boys.

  Well, they’re not really dog-boys, I just call them that. They’re called Cerapithali, wolf-men, but I like the degrading term much better. My mother and I encountered one in the forests outside Minzkala on a trip we took just before she went to live there.

  I was nineteen at the time, and cocky. I thought I could take the beast on my own. A couple of the Court members were nearby, following us until we reached the plains near Vicete. She was trying to get their attention.

  Me? I just headed full-throttle into the Cerapithalis’ path. I drew my sword and landed a blow before the rank smelling fuzzball grabbed me by my neck.

  His hot breath spit out gooey dog drool near the side of my face as he simultaneously pinned me to the ground and began to sink his teeth into my collar.

  When I woke up, I saw it lying on the ground ten yards from me, dead. My mother had used her Cleric skills to stop the bleeding and to repair the skin.

  Had the two Court members not killed the beast, I would be a big fuzzball myself right now. Their venom alters the DNA structure of the victim over the period of around thirty days. That’s how they breed.

  I was so caught up with the memory of the incident that I didn’t notice the two elders approaching.

  “Majaswraero,” Anah called out. I nearly jumped at the recognition of his voice. It was a resounding deep voice that filled the air, very articulate, very distinguishable.

  “Anah.” I bowed my head slightly in respect to the Imperial Elder.

  “I hope you have everything you need for a while, because your mother has sent word for us to send you to Minzkala. This ship is the last one we’ll see for about a week.”

  I reached for my pouch hanging from my belt. My survival kit of sorts. In it, I have potions, charms, and a small supply of jewelry pieces to work on. I like to be prepared, even on the weekly runs to the docks. You never know what could happen in these crazy times. Hmm. Like today for example.

  “I was actually going to stop by to speak with you. Sort of had a sneaking suspicion something was up. I have everything I need to make the journey.”

  He smiled, “Good. I’ve planned for you to stay in the Inn tonight. We have a few more things for you to take with you when you go.”

  “Have any clue why she might need me?” I asked him as they were about to walk off. I looked toward the other elder, too.

  “They’re getting organized from what we can tell,” Saktar spoke up, “Warriors are being called to Rhalas and Minzkala for training. We think they’re getting serious about the situation with the Digvi’ja.”

  “Meet us at the Inn for dinner and we’ll discuss it more,” Anah said, “Oh, and Majaswraero, I hope you’ve been practicing your Cleric skills. If this is more than just a visit to see your mother, I have no doubt they mean to bring you in as a healer.”

  After they left, I walked around the Dock District’s Shops, buying a few last-minute items I might need. Food and drink were among the necessities. And I had to buy a new canteen; I noticed mine leaking earlier.

  I picked up a few herbs and powders that are good for mixing into drinks for various purposes: lacamint, to keep me alert; sanfricil, an herb that works with antibodies; and decamine, which soothes the muscles and joints.

  As I stepped out into the street, the rain began to fall. I could hear thunder in the distance, and I could see rays of lightning way off over the water around the horizon. The minimal amount of light through the clouds began to fade even more as the sun dropped from the sky.

  The elders were sitting at a corner table in the inn’s dining area with Imperial High Chief Larawaine when I arrived. There was no one else in the place.

  I sat down and asked for a cup of coffee from the waitress. There was already food in the middle of the table. Seems the High Chief gets the banquet treatment here; roasted turkey with all the trimmings, sweet potatoes and corn.

  He lives in the only city on the island of Turchaesh, the city of Minden. His house is what I would call a small castle. There are stone walls, a courtyard, and a spacious twelve-bedroom stone house, complete with ballroom, servants’ quarters and greenhouse.

  High Chief Larawaine is loved by the people. He’s friendly to children and is often seen working at charitable functions. He’s a thrifty spender and has brought the Turchaesh Islands much prosperity through his tight pocketbook and loose hospitality. Throughout the twenty-five years of his reign, trade with the cities of Maralune has been his focal point and I would probably say that’s where the largest growth for our island has come from.

  I had been around him many, many times, and had always known him to be generous, yet thoroughly informed of where his aid was going. If what Saktar said was true, the High Chief was more than likely here to get the full story and to perhaps send me with an offer of assistance for King Naethan. So, I didn’t feel anxious about him being here.

  “Eat up! You’re going to need a full belly to help you sleep tonight,” Anah coaxed me into eating more than my fair share. “The ship will leave around mid-morning tomorrow. I think they want to check the skies before they head out.”

  “We’ll be getting a good pounding somewhere through the night as well,” Saktar said, “I’ll show you to your room once we finish things here. We’ve already discussed the nature of your journey with the High Chief. And he wants you to take this letter to King Naethan.”

  Saktar passed the letter over and I stuck it in my pouch. He also pushed over a small platinum box, carved delicately with the seal of the Imperial Elves and ornamental island décor. I had seen the box before and knew what was inside.

  “The Scrying Stones of the Imperial Elves,” said High Chief Larawaine. “They will allow you to communicate with the Ancients, as we have been for the last hundred years or so. You must only use them in the depth of night.”

  I nodded and carefully placed the box into an oversized pocket within my pouch. It was then that I noticed the suit of armor in the corner opposite to where we were sitting.

  “That came with your mother’s orders,” Anah said. “Tailored in Minzkala just for you. A Cleric’s suit, as you can see.”

  Clerics wore the best protective armor next to Champions, because their healing skills angered enemies and often brought them unwanted attention. Guess there was no more doubt to the reasons behind me being summoned to Minzkala.

  “Do you have any questions?” High Chief Larawaine asked me.

  I just shook my head politely. I did, but none that could be answered by the Elders or the High Chief.

  “You will be one of the last heading in that general direction, to Minzkala,” Anah said, “and the Legion’s forces will most assuredly begin to wonder what’s going on with the movement of so many warriors. It would be wise to use caution as you travel, be ready for anything. Your mother has arranged for you to fly from Rhalas once you get there. That should eliminate any fear over the most dangerous stretch of your journey, but the road from Nebal may still cause you problems. I would suggest stopping in Ewiniar for a day or two, despite the delay. If anyone is watching you travel, they may think Ewiniar was your destination and back off.”

  We finished our dinner with lighter conversations about the island and trade ships and the storm raging outside. Then I went to the small room they had reserved for me and did my best to fall asleep.

  I imagined what my life would be like after this
little excursion; the notoriety that would fall on my name. I was already the son of Stheta, of the Court of Minzkala. But now, I had the chance to earn my own praises.

  Somewhere in the middle of imagining the cries from the battlefield and my dashing rescue of some of the more important warriors on my team as they faced peril, I fell asleep.

  I woke up the next morning on top of the world. Ambitious, with my head held high, I smiled and waved to the people on the streets as I boarded the ship.

  And, oh, the stories I told on that ship to the crewmen. I told a few exaggerations, but don’t we all? There was no stopping this Imperial Elf from seeking fame and glory.

  Boy, was I headed for a wake-up call.

  Eight

  The Grand Scheme of Things

  Majaswraero (Turk)

  North of the Port of Nebal, I began to get a few stares. I only know of two other Imperial Elves that move around the cities of Maralune, so of course I was asked about my business everywhere I went.

  I just told them I was heading to Rhalas for a trade meeting. One of the things Anah had talked about was the attacks on warriors traveling between the cities, and I didn’t want to risk the chance of running into a spy or being tied up with any other conflict along the road.

  My mother had a couple of fast horses stationed in the Port and in Ewiniar for me to ride to Rhalas. Because of them, the trip between each city only cost me a half a day’s journey. I decided to go ahead and make the last leg of my trip instead of stopping in Ewiniar, against the High Chief’s suggestion.

  That’s when the trouble came. I was traveling along through the countryside when I hit a thicket. There was a sizeable path to follow, so no worries there. The sky was dark on this particular night, however. I had to slow down quite a bit. As I approached what looked like the end of the path, I noticed a dark figure running toward me from the field.

  The figure noticed me and from it came the panicked screams that tore at my insides. It was a child, seemingly running for his life. He was screaming for help.

  I immediately dropped down from my horse and ran for him, drawing my sword. He latched onto me in fear for his life. He wouldn’t quit crying. I couldn’t understand what he was trying to say.

  I shook him by the shoulders and told him to calm down, that I would help him.

  “My sister! They killed my sister!” he managed to get out.

  “Take me there,” I ordered him. I threw him on my horse with me and raced off in the direction he was pointing.

  I could see spots of fire across the field, so I thrust the horse into running high speed. The fire came from the buildings—a house, a barn, and a storehouse near a farm. I could tell we were traveling through a field by the way the horse’s hooves sank.

  I heard more crying near a fence that separated the field from the house’s yard. Another figure was bent over on the ground, clutching a little girl’s body. It was the mother of the children.

  When I got there, it was too late to save the girl’s life. The attackers had cut her throat.

  “My husband! Please, go help my husband! He ran after them.”

  “Ran after who?” I asked her.

  “Bandits! They ransacked the house and stole our horses. They threatened to take Liana! They said horrible things about her!” she said, sobbing.

  “You’ll be ok here?” I asked.

  “Yes, please, just help him!” She kept pointing in the direction her husband had gone.

  I mounted my horse once more and raced off to find the man from the farm. I got angry as I rode, thinking about the limp girl’s body.

  I kept going until I ran into a stream bank. I began to yell out for the man, “Sir! I’m here to help!” I thought maybe he would hear me and call back to me.

  I traveled the length of the wide stream, but there was nowhere to cross. I started thinking that perhaps he had gone back to his home, so I turned around and began to make my way there.

  About half the distance back from the stream, I heard the faint groaning of a man. I followed the sound and found him lying on the ground. He was badly injured.

  When I dismounted, I left the horse tied to a tree about fifty feet from the man. He was in the middle of a field, and I didn’t want to take the chance of the horse taking off on me. I wasn’t his normal master, and I had ridden him hard. That would be enough to make me want to run away, at least.

  I ran my hands through my pouch and pulled out the herbs I had brought along. I filled the cap of my canteen with water and stirred in equal amounts of the sanfricil and decamine, then fed it to him.

  I opened his clothing and began to administer healing to the deep incision in his chest. About midway through the healing process, I heard something.

  I turned around to see four shadowy figures across the skyline. They were far enough away that they probably didn’t know we were there. I motioned to the man to be quiet and then I lay down next to him, hoping to avoid detection.

  If we moved, they would notice us. The clearing continued all the way back to the farm, and we would draw shadows if we stood to run back. The man was in too poor of a condition to crawl with me to the trees. My horse had grown quiet, and I knew if I couldn’t see him in the patch of trees away from us, the bandits probably couldn’t either.

  The Bandits started a campfire, which allowed me to see them a little more clearly. We both remained silent. Within a short time, they grew bold enough to speak to each other in normal tones, and I could hear what they were saying.

  They thought the man was dead. They planned on going back to the farm in the morning to plunder anything left, including the man’s wife.

  After an hour of sitting there, tending to the man’s wounds, I fumbled through my pouch once again and brought out the box of Scrying Stones. I put my back toward the area where the men were and opened the box.

  Calling out for the Ancients in a whisper, I ran my fingers over the stones. My eyes fell shut and I entered a meditative state to focus my energy into the communication feed. My thoughts carried the message of the situation, and I prayed it would reach someone in Minzkala.

  Just then, we heard the growl of a very large cat. It was coming from near the Bandit’s campsite. Then I heard a voice from the stones, “Run.”

  I didn’t hesitate. I picked the man up. He was small and easy to carry. I went for the horse and threw him on top making room for me to climb up as well.

  As we raced away, I heard the Bandits in the camp cry out. The mountain lion had them distracted enough that they didn’t notice us moving in the field. I raced at top speed back to the man’s home.

  When we got there, I helped them gather a few things and hooked my horse up to a cart. I insisted he and his wife and son travel with me to Rhalas. We carried his dead daughter with us.

  I had heard stories about the terror in the lands of Maralune. And there were even more ancient tales of all that had happened in Sapir. But I had never experienced the truth of those tales until now.

  Even the Cerapithalis I fought was more like a freak accident. No one died, no homes were destroyed in the process. I kind of just felt I was in the Cerapithalis’ way at the time. But here was an innocent family just trying to get by, one that had now lost a beautiful daughter.

  I arrived in Rhalas at sunrise of the third day, bringing in the now homeless family, and I was taken immediately to a tower near the Champion’s Hall. The city guards took the family to the mission near the Cathedral. I didn’t see them again.

  From Rhalas, I rode a baby Roc, a ten-foot tall eagle with the body of a lion, to Minzkala. Somehow my mother knew I would be flying in. She had stayed up late into the night to greet me. We hugged and she fed me while we caught up on everything.

  “Have you been working on your healing?” She asked me.

  “I helped a family out between Ewiniar and Rhalas. Their farm ha
d been ransacked by bandits and the father had been injured for resisting. At least he wasn’t killed. His daughter was dead when I got there. I wonder why people risk the chance, why they don’t just move into the cities.”

  “I guess some are just stubborn,” she said, “They don’t want to give in to the evil that’s out there, and I can’t blame them.”

  “I like the armor,” I told her, “I made sure to wear regular clothes over it to disguise myself as a tradesman or something. I think a few people thought I was a little overweight, but it really didn’t make my clothing feel too bulky. What exactly is it made of?”

  “Celestial blackened steel. The Champions and Clerics here will all be getting a set.”

  “Tell me more about that,” I asked her, “Why have you called me here? And what are the rumors about a confrontation with the Legion all about?”

  “Ah, I see word gets around fast. But who couldn’t pick up on the clues?”

  She picked up my empty plate and placed it on a tray near the door, “Let’s go in here where it’s more comfortable.”

  We sat on a couple of plush mini-sofas. I could feel my legs tingling from the journey here. I wasn’t used to riding a horse for very long, or a Roc, either, for that matter.

  “You are not to discuss what we talk about here. One of the things King Naethan desires of all this is the element of surprise. We need it.”

  I nodded in agreement with her terms, “All right.”

  “Twenty warriors have been chosen to come to Minzkala for training. They will gain skills like the ones I’ve gained in my time here, enhancements to their own. I wish we could train more, but this level of readiness requires a warrior to first have certain skills we cannot give them.”

  Ok, I’m not the brightest star in the sky, but I felt a little left out of what she was telling me. I started to wonder why that didn’t sound like an invitation, but I decided to just keep listening.

  “Rhalas needs elite men and women as well. They will form the army of numbers we need to succeed. King Ederich has asked for you there.”