THE CHOSEN OF AZAR
Published April, 2007
Author: Carol Kluz
Publisher: WestBank Publishing
PROLOGUE
Those on the parapets were alert and silent. The only sounds were those of the night birds and the chirping of the crickets. Moments later the quiet was shattered by a resounding din of guttural roars as thousands of demons resembling huge, grotesque spiders with incredibly long legs and arms tore through the forest and onto the lea surrounding Haven’s Hold.
Mo Demz was transformed into an eagle. He circled above in communication with the seven Commanders who were stationed around the circular parapets. In close proximity to them were the seven Sect Sisters wielding their magic against the demons.
It was nearly five hours later that the Commanders led the units of Barrand Guards out onto the lea to finish off the demons.
With victory evident, Sect Mistress Asenda directed the transfer and care of the hundreds of wounded to the Omniplex. As she and her sisters brought forth their healing, those killed by the demons were laid out on the courtyard to be identified and cremated by Mo Demz.
Some time later the Commanders began arriving in the conclave. Drai, the supreme Commander, was last to enter. He scanned the room and saw only five of the seven sect sisters and only four of the six Commanders. He asked, “Where are the others?”
Mo Demz’ look was anguished and Drai knew. Asenda had her face buried in her hands. Drai stepped over to Mo Demz and pulled him to his feet. He draped his arms around him while his father mourned the loss of two sons and two daughters.
That afternoon Azar summoned Mo Demz. He was the god who created the lands, the animals and the races that inhabited it. Azar consoled Mo Demz by his loving touch and assured him that his sons and daughters were well and happy in His domain. He gave Mo Demz the Book of Empyrean and instructed him to distribute it throughout the lands. In it, Azar talked about his creation and how he inspected it in the form of a white falcon. It told how his brother Condragon attempted to destroy it with his evil magic, and about His placement of the wizard Mo Demz upon the lands to destroy the evil spread by his brother. It even explained how Mo Demz, under Azar’s guidance, established the Barranda Sect, the Barrand Guards and Haven’s Hold.
It prophesied a battle in the fifth age between His five Chosen and five disciples of his evil brother. It said that Condragon would place three warlocks and two witches on the lands. The two gods agreed that if the Chosen of Azar defeated the warlocks and witches, one of the Chosen would battle Condragon to determine the future of the lands.
CHAPTER 1
The tracker’s stealthy stalking of his prey was abruptly shattered by the piercing cries and terrified whinnies of his pack-horses. He tore through the forest with the bow and arrow in his left hand. As he ran, he drew his long knife with his right ready to take on whatever was threatening his horses and his livelihood. His panic increased as the sounds of the horses ceased. He raced into the small clearing where they had been tethered by long ropes so they could eat the grasses. Only one of the horses was there. It lay lifeless with a gaping wound in its throat. By the bent grass, it was apparent that the other had been dragged off. The tracker barely had time to register these facts when he heard the sounds of the killer returning for the other horse. It took only a millisecond for the tracker’s survival instinct to kick in. He moved with swift silence into the foliage of a chokecherry bush at the fringe of the clearing. Barely was he settled in with a small view of the clearing when it stepped into view. The tracker bit his tongue in an effort to remain absolutely quiet and unmoving. Never had he felt such terror. The beast wore clothing and boots; it carried a spear. Its head and arms were covered with black fur, eyes resembled those of a wolf and it had a pig-like snout instead of a nose.
The Churl stopped and sniffed the air; the tracker’s fear increased; the grip on his knife turned his knuckles white. The beast roared and lumbered in the direction of the chokecherry bush.
The tracker leapt from the bush, threw the knife and ran. He didn’t stop running for several miles until he collapsed on the ground completely spent; his every gasping breath a labor. He listened, but there were no sounds of pursuit. He knew that his knife penetrated the beast by the shriek of pain it emitted as he turned to run. When he rested enough to breathe normally, he stood and looked up at the sky. He thanked Azar for mantling him. The tracker had heard stories of such creatures existing, but this was the first one he had ever encountered. He prayed it would be the last.
Asenda rose from her desk and stared out the window over the eastern grounds of Haven’s Hold and beyond to the magnificent Barranda Mountains. She didn’t take in the beauty because her thoughts were on the tasks ahead. Already there were signs of evil on the lands, a sure sign that Condragon was stirring. She was apprehensive about what was to come; knowing the fifth age prophecy was in motion. It began seventeen years earlier when Azar placed His talisman upon the chest of a newborn. She knew that Azar had summoned Mo Demz and told him the time was at hand to gather His Chosen to begin their training. She also knew it would be the most important undertaking in the Haven’s history. There was a soft knock on the door. “Come.”
A young girl entered dressed in the gray shift that signified her as a second-year trainee of the Sect. She bowed. “Mo Demz has arrived, Sect Mistress, and he awaits you in the conclave.”
Asenda smiled. “Thank you, Tina. Will you please summon Rheanna and Commanders Drai and Raza to join us in the conclave?”
“Yes, Sect Mistress.”
A short time later, the four joined Mo Demz in the conclave. They sat at the sides of a long oak table with Mo Demz at the head. Mo Demz said, “It’s time to gather the Chosen.” He looked at Drai and Raza, a glint of humor in his eyes and a smile on his face. “Congratulations, you have just become fathers. Drai, you’re the lucky one. You have three!”
Drai’s expression was unreadable. “How will we know them?”
Mo Demz turned to Rheanna and nodded. The tall flaxen-haired Magisect spoke in a soft contralto voice. “Azar revealed them to me in a vision. I will project their images on the wall for you to study.” She stood, turned and faced the high wall. She pointed to her left. She did it five times, each time moving her arm until the final image was to her right. She finished and took her seat.
“The first three are yours, Drai, and the other two yours, Raza.” Mo Demz leaned back in his chair and quietly watched the Commanders. He asked, “Who do you think is destined to fight Condragon?”
Raza glanced at Drai and said, “I think it’s the one in the middle.” Drai nodded in agreement.
“Most intuitive,” Mo Demz said sincerely. “His name is Beni. He just turned seventeen. The girl and boy to his left are twins. They’re the youngest of the five at fifteen. Their names are Dell and Vina. Raza, your two are first cousins, but have been raised together. The cousins are sixteen, and their names are Jenda and Dane. This won’t be an easy task,” he warned. “Just because they’re the Chosen of Azar, do not assume that they’re faultless; I assure you they’re not.” He chuckled and added in a serious tone, “I have no qualms that you two have been given the task of nurturing and training these children. Had the choice been mine, it would have been the same. There’s no one better suited to prepare them for their destinies which will determine all of our futures.” On a more serious note he said, “We must control them or they could pose a danger to themselves and everyone else. The key to their safety, and ultimately ours, is discipline.”
They began their trek two days later. Raza headed northwest to Toranda to pick up Jenda and Dane. Drai and Mo Demz went southeast into Multa to pick up the twins. Five weeks later, they stopped at a house hidden within a clearing. It was in the country of Davrin where the oldest of the five Chosen lived. Drai left the twins in the care of Mo Demz and proceeded alone to get Beni.
Beni finished his meal and stowed the remainder of his bread and cheese into his pack. He stood and studied the sky. Ominous gray clouds bumped and roiled like cavorting dark mud giants to the north. Beni sighed audibly, slung his pack over his shoulder and turned north to Avenshore. He knew his brothers Joric and Allion would be worried about him because of his delay at Dain Crossing. His brothers entrusted him to set up a market for fresh and smoked fish at the Crossing. It took a great deal of persuasion before the skeptical innkeeper agreed.
Beni quickened his pace and pulled his cloak tighter about him as the wind whistled through the trees along the trail that wound its way through the forest of Kern and down to the Redwing Sea and the port city of Avenshore. The first hour was strenuous as he bucked the wind and driving rain, but then the wind shifted to the southeast, pulling the brunt of the storm with it. All that remained was a slight mist and the promise of warmth to come as sunrays sliced through the thinning clouds. Beni knew his trek was nearing an end when he breathed in the salt-tinged air that spread from the Redwing Sea. He thought he should be home in one more hour.
A rider appeared out of the trees to Beni’s left blocking the trail. Beni instinctively reached for his long knife. The rider, cloaked in a camouflage cape of forest colors, had a warhorse that resembled one talked about in ancient legends. It was a huge animal with mottled colors that camouflaged it as well as the cloak did the rider; its eyes were yellow with black circles like coal in the center. The legends said these great warhorses could see in the dark. Beni had the long knife halfway out of its sheath when the stranger spoke in a commanding voice: “Don’t draw your knife, Beni. I wish only to speak with you and accompany you to Avenshore.”
In a voice barely above a whisper, Beni asked, “Who are you? How do you know my name?”
“I’m Drai, a Barrand Guard Commander. I’ve traveled a great distance to find you.”
“Why?” Beni whispered.
He flinched as the big warrior dismounted in a fluid motion. Drai spoke quietly into the left ear of his horse. The animal bobbed its head and galloped off into the forest. “Come, Boy, let’s walk to Avenshore, and I’ll tell you why I’m here.” Beni bristled at being called boy, but he let it pass as his curiosity compelled him to step forward and walk beside the tallest man he had ever seen. The size of the sword Drai had sheathed across his back amazed Beni. He caught a glimpse of the warrior’s mail through the movement of his cloak. After they walked a few minutes, Drai asked, “Do you know about the Book of Empyrean?”
“My brothers spoke of it a few times.”
“It is written that Condragon will place upon the land five powerful disciples to destroy the races and claim the world for his evil spawn. Are you familiar with this prophecy?”
“Yeah, I think it’s a little far-fetched.”
Drai abruptly stopped and turned toward Beni, his blue-flecked eyes steely. “Empyrean is truth. The fifth age is upon us. You must set aside your impatience and listen. You’re an integral part of the prophecy.” Beni was shocked by what he heard. He merely nodded.
Drai resumed walking, his demeanor calm again. He continued. “As I said, the Fifth Age is upon us. Already there are signs of evil that precede the three warlocks and two witches who will soon reside on the land. These are Condragon’s disciples. Their goals are to spread their evil and gain power. Azar appeared to Rheanna of the Barranda Sect. He named five on the lands to battle Condragon's disciples.” He stopped again and looked down at Beni. “You’re one of the five.”
Beni stared at him with disbelief. “How can this be? I’m nobody! I'm not even a warrior. Are you sure you haven't made a mistake?”
“I'm sure,” Drai said quietly. In a comforting gesture, he placed his hands on Beni’s shoulders. “You’ll be aided in your quest. You can’t refuse. Azar chose you. No greater honor could be bestowed on anyone than to be handpicked by our Creator to battle His enemies.”
Beni murmured, “He should have picked someone like you.”
Drai looked amused. “We must all do our part.”
A short time later they emerged from the forest of Kern, the view breathtaking. Immediately before them lay the lush valley of Avenshore; beyond that the coast city glistened with its whitewashed stone and dark-wood buildings. The vast Redwing Sea dotted with ships, skiffs, and fishing boats expanded beyond the horizon. Seabirds of all kinds, including the red-winged albatross for which the sea was named, glided over the water and dove for fish.
With Beni leading the way, they skirted the city to the northeast gate nearest the fishing boat docks. As they threaded their way through the cobbled streets toward the docks, some people stared at Drai while others averted their eyes and quickly moved on. Drai had an aura that seemed almost supernatural. His fluid movements gave the appearance of gliding rather than walking, but most of all he looked dangerous. He boasted hard, chiseled features and eyes that resembled dark pools flecked with blue.
“There’s our boat,”—Beni pointed—“the one with the star and crown. Our building is the one with the blue roof up to the left.”
Beni led Drai around to the side of the long building where they entered into a kitchen furnished with a large stone table and wooden chairs. Beni offered Drai a seat and left to fetch his brothers Joric and Allion. He returned shortly with two burly men. After introductions, they all settled at the table. Drai told them what he had told Beni on the trail. He strongly implied there was no room for compromise as far as Beni's obligation. When he finished speaking, he leaned back in his chair to observe the reaction of Beni’s brothers.
It didn’t go unnoticed by Drai when the two brothers exchanged quick glances, and Joric gave a barely perceptible nod to his brother. Allion focused on Beni when he said, “The Golden Crest was a cargo vessel. Its destination was Avenshore. The ship sank shortly after entering the strait of Vargon.” He looked off for a moment before he forced the words out. “Joric and I sailed out to the Strait of Vargon the day after we heard of the Golden Crest's demise. We hoped we would get lucky and find some of the cargo floating about. We were told no one had survived the wreck. We used grappling hooks to pull in some bundles of wool and wood. After several hours we turned the boat back into the Redwing to head home. It was then, off the starboard bow, that we saw an object floating. We approached it and used the grappler to retrieve it from the water. Its appearance was similar to that of a woven picnic basket—only larger.” Allion asked Joric to continue.
Joric reached up and ran his fingers through his thinning gray hair before he spoke. “Inside that basket was a child . . . a baby. He didn't cry because he was too weak. Allion mixed together some honey and milk for him; the baby began to coo and respond. There was a letter tied in a pouch next to the baby. There were several gold coins in a bag under the blanket that swaddled him.” He searched Beni’s face and pushed out the words. “That baby was you.”
Beni paled. He tried to speak, but couldn’t. His mind raced with the implications of what he heard. He remembered asking Joric and Allion over and over to tell him all they could remember of his mother and father. He relished stories of how his parents met, and their early struggles and simple everyday events in their lives. Yet now, he realized these second-hand memories that he cherished had nothing to do with him. He looked at Drai and spoke with a mix of bitterness and anger. “You see? I told you I’m nobody.”
“You’ll always be our brother—our Beni,” Allion said in an emotional voice.
Beni glared at him. “Did you enjoy making a fool out of me? Did either of you ever intend to tell me?” With a sneer, he added, “And you, Joric, always claiming that the mark of a man is honesty…especially with himself. According to your philosophy, I could never be a man because everything I believed about myself would be a pack of lies, and the irony of it all is . . . because you lied to me, you’re not a man either.”
Joric reacted with such swiftness that Beni barely blinked before he was lifted from his chair and jerked to his feet. Joric lowered his face to a level with Beni’s. “Think,” He rasped, “Allion and I altered our lives for you. We loved you more as a son than a brother. You haven’t heard the whole of it; so don’t be so quick to judge. If you ever speak to me in such a manner again, I’ll make you scrub the boat from stem to stern. Now pick up that chair and sit down.”
Allion left to fetch a wooden box stowed away in the office anteroom. Beni kept his head down. His cheeks were flushed, an embarrassing reminder of Joric's anger. Allion returned with the box. Joric reached in and took out a small bag closed with a leather drawstring along with a letter. He placed them in front of Beni and said, “These belong to you. This is the letter we found in the basket. Perhaps it will help you to understand our reasons for keeping our secret. It was written by your father . . . your real father.”
His heart beating rapidly, Beni carefully unfolded the letter, began to read.
If you’re reading this letter, it means that my most trusted and close friend Captain Bostic handpicked you to care for my son. As he told you, it is imperative that my son’s true identity is not revealed—not even to him. The danger is too great. A few days after his birth, a triangular talisman with one rounded edge was found upon my son’s chest as he slept. It bore the clustered stars that represent Azar. My son’s mother died within hours of his birth. When I found the talisman, she appeared to me. She told me I must hide the talisman, telling no one where, and then send my son away or he would be killed by Condragon’s cohorts. With an anguished heart, I entrust my son to you. Until our paths cross, may Azar guide and protect you.
Beni read through the letter twice before he leapt from his chair and wrapped his arms around Joric. Joric gave him a strong hug. When Beni sat back in his chair, his brother said to Drai, “I think the boy is too young to set out on a man's quest.
Drai shifted slightly as he responded. “He won’t be endangered at this time. I’ll take him to Haven's Hold where his schooling by the Barrand Guards in weaponry and the use of his magic by the Sect will begin. As I said before, he won’t be alone. There are four others with their own special magic who will also be taught by the Sect. When the time comes to set forth, it won’t be to confront the enemies of Azar, but to retrieve the talismans of Azar. It isn’t the individual talismans that will defeat Condragon. When all five fuse into a circle, the joined talismans will attain the power to defeat him. Before any of this comes to pass, Beni will be a man . . . perhaps the most powerful in all the land, for he alone will possess the starred circle of Azar before the final battle.”
Beni blurted, “I have no magic!”
Drai gave him a penetrating look. “Yes, you do. You were born with it. There has been no need for it to manifest itself, but soon it will. This is why you must go to Haven's Hold. You must be taught to control it. Uncontrolled magic could destroy you.”
It was three days later when Drai and Beni left Avenshore with Beni leading a dappled gray stallion. They were about midway through the Valley of Avenshore when Drai stopped and emitted a shrill whistle. Beni shot him a quizzical look, but Drai offered no explanation. Beni turned his head to look in the direction of Drai's gaze. He saw something moving out of the edge of the forest of Kern. Astounded to see that it was Drai's warhorse, he asked, “How did he hear your whistle from such a distance?”
With a hint of a smile, Drai said, “Raider is no ordinary horse. Perhaps one like him will adopt you someday.” Beni puzzled over his statement when the horse galloped up, bobbed his head and nuzzled Drai's face. The gray became skittish and jerked on his reins. Drai spoke into Raider's ear. The huge horse nickered with sounds that calmed the gray.
When they reached the fork on the trail of Kern they turned west. On the third day of traveling through the forest of Kern, Drai and Beni emerged from the western edge onto a sloping plain. The plain dipped into a valley dotted with farms and furrowed fields of wheat and corn. It puzzled Beni when Drai took the south fork that led to the valley. He called out to Drai, “That isn’t the direction to Barranda. Shouldn't we continue going west?”
Drai slowed Raider allowing the boy and his horse to come abreast before speaking. “Others are in the valley that will accompany us to Barranda.”
“Why are they going with us?”
“You’ll find out in due course.” Drai nudged Raider with his knees and the horse took off at a canter leaving Beni and his gray behind.
Drai’s response irritated Beni. You have the personality of a rock, he thought angrily as he urged the gray forward to shorten the distance between Drai and himself.
By late afternoon low-slung clouds hovered over the valley casting a yellow-gray haze. Beni was hungry not having eaten since shortly after dawn. It appeared they’d passed out of the farm country; the terrain was changed. The ground was harder and strewn with rocks, saw grass and occasional stands of trees. Beni felt relieved when Drai led the way toward a cluster of trees. He thought they would rest and eat. After they approached the trees Drai continued to ride through them. They weren’t far into the wood when they came to a small clearing in the middle of which stood a stone and mortar dwelling. On one side was a garden with a cluster of fruit trees situated several yards behind. It had an open porch made of wood where two cats rested. An attached stable was on the other side.
Drai dismounted and in three long strides reached the door. Mo Demz opened it. “That was fast.” He looked out at Beni and said, “You're just in time for supper. I have a big pot of stew and some fresh bread. Are you hungry?”
“Yes!” Beni didn’t mean to speak so loud. He flushed with embarrassment.
Mo Demz smiled, patted Beni on the back, and said. “Sit and eat.”
They ate quietly. When they finish, Mo Demz asked Beni, “Sure you had enough? Help yourself to more.” Beni thanked him but declined. He thought his stomach would burst if he ate another bite. He wondered why Drai hadn’t introduced them, and as if Mo Demz read his mind, he reached his hand out to Beni and said, “Young man my name is Mo Demz; you must be Beni.”
It surprised Beni that the old man's grip was so strong. He was taller than Beni with shoulder-length white hair, a mustache and a beard. Thick dark brows framed his face and contrasted sharply with his white hair. His blue eyes seemed to reflect the sky.
For the first time since entering the house, Drai spoke in his deep-timbered voice. “Where are the others, Father?”
“Didn’t I teach you patience, Drai?”
“Where are they?” Drai asked again, a slight edge to his voice.
“Calm down. They went into the village to have the horses shod for the journey.”
His irritation evident, Drai said, “I told them not to leave here. Didn’t they tell you?” Mo Demz shook his head indicating they hadn’t. Drai added, “Having the horses shod could be a signal they’re going to travel. You know the dangers as well. Just one slip of the tongue could put them in peril. Why did you allow them to leave?”
Mo Demz met Drai's gaze head on. “The horses needed to be shod for general purposes. There’s nothing suspicious about it. People around here have it done all the time.” He took a swig from his tankard and then added, “As for a chance slip of the tongue, I took the precaution of cutting out their tongues before they left.” Drai shook his head; Beni stared wide-eyed with shock at Mo Demz. Suddenly, Mo Demz burst into uncontrolled laughter. Tears glistened and rolled down his cheeks. He started to speak several times, but began laughing anew. Finally, emotionally drained, he said, “Drai, you’ve nothing to fear. I told them to say it was for their grandfather.” He picked up the dishes and carried them to the water basin—still chuckling.
Beni tried to absorb all he heard when Drai's voice startled him. “He’s a Wizard. We’ve known each other a long time. For some reason, he enjoys laughing at my expense.”
“Sometimes you’re the perfect target for it, Drai. Beni may wonder if you even know how to laugh.”
Drai ignored him and spoke to Beni instead. “Come, we need to unsaddle the horses.”
Later they sat out on the wood porch, Drai and Mo Demz drinking wine and smoking pipes. Beni sat on the edge; he had a black and white cat purring contentedly on his lap. He idly petted it, his thoughts on Mo Demz and Drai. He now realized Drai's gruff manner with the old man about the joke was only a facade. He thought they were father and son since Drai called him Father.
The sun hovered over the western horizon, a deep red ball painting the sky and clouds with hues of dark blues, pink and purple. As Beni silently thanked Azar for its beauty, a boy and girl astride their horses burst from the trees at such a speed they were hard pressed to prevent their mounts from clambering onto the porch. Their horses were winded and lathered. Beni was surprised. He definitely hadn't expected a girl.
“You cheated, Vina,” the boy said breathlessly. “I win!”
“Don't whine, Dell. You lost . . . so live with it.” They continued to argue, totally unaware of the others on the porch.
Drai stood. “Silence!” he thundered. The two turned at once to face him. “How dare you treat your horses in such a manner,” he scolded. “Get them unsaddled; dry them down; brush them; feed them—walk to the stream and bring them fresh water. When you’re finished, come to me.” They were frozen until he rasped, “Move!” They quickly rode the horses around to the stable. Drai shook his head and went into the house.
Beni understood why Drai was angry since he was taught at a young age to respect animals. Yet, he couldn’t help sympathizing with the twins. He turned his gaze to Mo Demz. The old man spoke softly. “Drai is very impressed with you because you traveled nearly a whole day without rest or food and didn’t complain. He wanted to test you. If you had asked, he would have stopped. Trust him, Beni. There is none better to prepare you for what lies ahead. Whatever he does, remember it will be for your betterment. Some lessons come hard…just as it will for those young rascals, but they will learn because they have a master teacher.”
“Who are they? Don't they have a family?”
“They’re Chosen like you, twins. Their parents went down on a ship called the Golden Crest, the same accident from which you were rescued.”
“How did you know about that?”
“It was my job to watch over all of the Chosen. The twins lived with a maiden aunt who raised them—and spoiled them. Drai will have a double handful with them.” He chuckled and went inside.
Beni stayed on the porch, unsure about going in. After a while Drai came back out and gently gripped his shoulder. “You’ve had a long day. Come, I’ll show you where to sleep.”
Drai was alone on the porch when the twins came to him. Beni and Mo Demz slept soundly. He studied the young miscreants a moment before saying, “I told you not to leave the clearing in my absence. Why did you deliberately disobey me?”
Vina replied, “Mo Demz told us we could go to the village to get the horses shod.”
“He didn’t know my instructions to you . . . and you didn’t tell him. It’s the same as a lie. You disobeyed me; you lied to Mo Demz; you mistreated your horses. Follow me.” He stepped off the porch and strode off toward the woods.
Beni opened his eyes. He wondered what had awakened him. He heard muffled sounds coming from the other cot in his room. He knew it must be Dell. “Are you all right?” he whispered.
“As well as can be,” Dell whispered back.
“What happened?”
“He made us gather dry wood and stack it next to the porch. It wasn't just because of the horses. It was because we went into the village when he told us not to leave the clearing…and for lying to Mo Demz about it.”
“Are you tired?”
“Yes,” Dell whispered, “and hungry,” he added. “He only gave us bread and a chunk of cheese for supper.
“Try to sleep. Breakfast isn’t that far away.”
It seemed to Beni he had barely fallen asleep when Mo Demz shook him awake and instructed him to get dressed. Beni looked over at the other cot surprised to see it empty. A hint of light trickled through the window. He washed, dressed, and went into the main room where Mo Demz motioned him to sit at the table. The old man placed a bowl of hot wheat meal, a pitcher of honey, and a spoon before him. It appeared no one else was in the house. Beni gave Mo Demz a questioning look. “They ate about an hour ago. They’ve been busy picking grass and hauling water to the horses . . . all of the horses.”
Beni scowled. “It’s a lot simpler to lead the horses to the grass and water.”
Mo Demz eyes seem to delve into his soul. “Of course, but what sort of lesson would they learn from that?”
“They’ve already been punished.”
“True, but it’s no guarantee a lesson was learned. For some, punishment is merely something to avoid. For others, it’s an instrument of learning—of knowing not to do it again because it’s wrong, and not out of fear of being punished. Drai is older, wiser and more experienced in life than you, Beni. Don't question his motives. He cares deeply for those children. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t be bothered. Finish eating.”
When they set out, Drai led. He was followed by Vina and Dell both on foot and leading their horses. After them came Beni on his gray with Mo Demz in the rear riding a buckskin mare. They retraced the way Drai and Beni came the day before through the valley, past the farms and up to the western edge of the forest of Kern where they turned west.
Beni's sympathy ran deep for the twins. He felt guilty riding while they were made to walk. He stopped, dismounted and walked himself. Mo Demz rode up next to him and said, “Beni, they weren’t ordered to walk as you’re thinking; they wanted to make amends for mistreating their horses, and they asked to walk.” Beni flushed and nodded. He wondered how Mo Demz could read his thoughts.
A short time later, Drai veered off the trail to the right and down an embankment where a small stream wove through the trees. There he stopped and announced they would set up camp. Vina limped over to a tree and tethered her horse. Then she removed the saddle and pack. She sprawled on the ground on her side exhausted from her long walk. Drai strode up and said, “Don’t forget to water your horse.”
Beni overheard. “I can do it.”
“No, it’s her horse. She must care for it herself.” He looked back to Vina. “It will soothe your feet if you walk out into the water with the horse.”
When he strode off, she whispered, “I’m too tired to get my boots off; if I sit, I may fall asleep.”
Beni said, “Stand against the tree. I’ll pull them off for you.” She did as he suggested. “By the way, I'm Beni.” He pulled off one of her boots. She winced when he pulled off her other boot causing him to examine her foot. The back of her heel had a large broken blister; it was raw and red. “Just a moment, Vina, I’ll take off my boots and help you into the water.”
“But, you can’t. Drai said I must do it myself. Don’t disobey him, Beni,” she warned.
Beni thought about it. “I think I have a solution. You can lead your horse into the water as he ordered. At the same time you can lean on me.” Moments later, they moved down the bank to the stream. Her left arm was on top of Beni's right. Vina's foot was so swollen and red; it was difficult to put weight on it. It puffed up rapidly after Beni removed her boot. Beni looked up to see Drai striding rapidly toward them.
Drai scooped Vina into his arms. He told Beni, “Take care of her horse.” He hurried to Mo Demz, dropped to his knees and sat back on his boots. Still cradling the frightened Vina in his arms, He told Mo Demz, “Her foot is infected.”
Mo Demz examined her foot before nodding in agreement. “It needs to be lanced and seared, now, before it spreads.” Mo Demz yelled to the boys, “Tether those horses and gather firewood quickly.”
Vina trembled. Drai hugged her to his chest and pushed her hair away from her forehead. In a soothing tone, he said, “Don’t be afraid, Mo Demz will draw out the infection.” When the blade was heated, Mo Demz gave Drai a nod. Drai brought his hand around Vina's head and gently pushed her face into his chest. Dropping her lower body to his lap, he reached under her left leg below the knee and bent his arm back in a vice grip. Mo Demz moved swiftly. He grasped Vina's ankle firmly and made two small crisscrossed cuts right on the heel. Then he squeezed before turning the hot knife sideways directly over the wound. Vina cried out, emitted a moan and passed out.
Drai withdrew his arm from under Vina's leg and reached up to caress her face. He told Beni and Dell, “Gather leaves and spread a blanket on it. Put it near the fire so she doesn't get chilled.” When they returned, Drai still held Vina, his cloak wrapped around her. Even after the boys arranged her bed, he continued to hold her. At last, she stirred and opened her eyes, a look of alarm in them. Drai smiled. “It’s over, Vina.” He put her on the bed the boys made. Mo Demz wrapped her foot in a poultice and gave her a drink of water. Very soon her color returned; the swelling and redness in her foot was diminished.
Drai saddled Raider shortly after placing Vina on her makeshift bed. Then he rode off into the forest. The rest of them ate a supper of cold smoked ham, cheese, bread and fruit. Dell wrapped up in his bedroll soon after and fell asleep. Beni talked quietly to Vina until her eyes closed. He was still sitting next to Vina, lost in thought, when Mo Demz broke into his reverie. “Go to sleep now, Beni.”
Still awake several hours later, Beni heard Drai return. Drai didn’t unroll his blanket as Beni had expected he would. Instead, he walked to the bank of the stream, sat, pulled his long legs up and wrapped his arms about his knees.
Out of the shadows Mo Demz approached Drai. He sat beside him and they talked in hushed tones. Beni watched the two unmoving figures for a while before sleep overtook him.
Mo Demz awakened Beni and the twins just before dawn. They ate quickly and packed their gear, except for Vina who was instructed by Mo Demz to stay off her foot. He asked Dell to saddle his sister's horse for her. Then he rolled her blanket and attached it to the back of her saddle.
Drai strode up to Dell and said, “There will be no walking today. We’ll be moving at a faster pace.” He reached down and picked up Vina's left boot. He drew his knife and slit it down the back before cutting out a hole in the place where it would have rubbed against her heel. He made another slit a quarter inch parallel from the first, making a thong. He picked up the other boot and approached Vina. He put the right one on, and then carefully slipped the other on her left foot before tying it above her ankle with the thong. He scooped her up and placed her on her horse. “If your heel aches . . . tell me.” He mounted Raider; they set out just as the first light of day expanded over the eastern sky.
The next day the twins were well rested. Vina could walk and they left Davrin, Beni's land and crossed over into Manchard.
Drai came to Beni after supper on the following night and said, “Come, Beni, we must talk.” Beni followed him around an outcrop of rock and up a grassy hill to a stand of fir. Drai stopped and sat leaning against one of the trees. He motioned Beni to do likewise. “Beni, it’s good that you’re befriending Dell and Vina. They’re younger than you. If something . . . dangerous should occur, it’s imperative for all of you to obey me without hesitation. If such a circumstance should ever arise, I’ll be counting on you to watch over them because I may be engaged.”
“What sort of danger?”
“Mo Demz heard that Churls have been loosed on the land.”
“What are Churls?”
“They’re big wolf-like creatures that dress like people and carry curved spears. They feed on animals and humans.” Drai sensed Beni’s fear. “Don’t be afraid. Mo Demz and I will keep you safe.”
With skepticism in his tone and look, Beni muttered, “Mo Demz is an old man.”
Drai grinned. “Don’t underestimate him. I told you he’s a wizard. There is no one stronger than he in magic—not even the Sect. Come.”
When Beni joined the twins he told them about the Churls and about the magic of Mo Demz.
CHAPTER 2
Dane lumbered through the brambles up to the clump of cottonwoods and flung down the rabbit carcasses. He removed the quiver of arrows and bow slung over his back, sat, leaned back on the trunk of a gnarled old tree, grinned and called out smugly, “It's over, Jenda, I defeated you.”
An hour earlier, he and his redheaded cousin set up a contest. The first to kill two rabbits and reach the cottonwoods off the riverbank would be the winner. Dane was elated to have beaten her. The fact she was a female in no way allayed his joy of victory. It was rare for Jenda to lose one of their contests. She was nearly unmatched in tracking and hunting skills by anyone from their village.
Dane felt the hackles on his neck the instant he heard a shrill whoop from above. He had no time to react before being pelted with dead rabbits. A moment later, Jenda jumped from the tree landing in front of him. Like a boy, she was dressed in soft leather breeches and boots that laced up just below her knees. She had a quiver and bow slung over her back, a sheathed short sword at her side and a dagger thrust through loops on her right boot. She tilted her head apologetically and said, “Sorry, I didn't hear you come along. I took a quick little nap while I was waiting.”
Dane flushed; his eyes flashed with anger, but before he could retort, Jenda smiled disarmingly and said, “Just teasing, Dane. I barely beat you. You were coming up from the bank when I climbed up the tree. At first I thought you saw me, but when you called out, I knew you hadn't.”
He motioned her to sit because he still felt a little tired and wasn’t ready to return to the village. They sat quietly and watched the river. Occasionally a fish arced over the water, caught an insect and descended with a splash. Jenda thought they might catch some fish before they left. When they were eight years old, Uncle Mar had taught Dane and her to catch fish by spearing them with a stick. Jenda remembered her early aversion to handling fish and smiled to herself.
They were caught totally off guard when a huge man appeared from around the tree and stood before them. Jenda reacted first as she reached for her dagger and rose in one swift motion thrusting her knife upward. The man, equally swift, clamped a huge hand on her wrist. With his other hand, he pointed to Dane and commanded him not to move; then he focused his deep blue eyes on her. “Calm down, Jenda. I mean no harm to you or your cousin.” His eyes remained riveted on her until she nodded. “Drop the knife and be seated.” He spoke with a deep, slightly raspy voice. He didn’t release her wrist until she complied.
Jenda berated herself. Why didn’t I hear him? More annoyed than afraid, she shifted her gaze to Dane. He appeared calm, at least outwardly. She understood why he obeyed the man. He was much bigger than their Uncle Mar who stood well over six feet. She could see that he wore mail and had a huge broadsword sheathed across his back. If he wanted to kill us, he could have easily enough, she thought.
Dane asked, “How do you know our names, Warlord?”
“I’m not a warlord. I’m a Barrand Guard Commander. I know your names because Rheanna of the Barranda Sect told me.”
“What’s your name, Barrand Guard? What exactly is a Barrand Guard, and who is Rheanna?” Jenda glared at him. “And just why have you so rudely sneaked up on us scaring us half to death?” Dane shot her a look implying she had lost her mind. She ignored him and kept her eyes riveted on the Commander.
For a fraction of a second Raza’s eyes sparkled with humor. He sat facing them. “My name is Raza. The Barrand Guards are highly trained warriors. We are pledged to protect the Barranda Sect. They live in Haven's Hold. It is located in the mountains of Barranda. Rheanna is a Magisect.” He smiled. “It wasn’t my intention to frighten you . . . for that I apologize.”
“What does this Magisect want with us?” Jenda asked suspiciously.
Raza reviewed with them the prophecies of Empyrean that told how Azar would send forth five Chosen to do battle with the agents of Condragon. He explained how he and another Commander were sent forth by the Sect to gather up the five because the time for their training was at hand.
Jenda looked with wonder at Dane and spoke in a barely audible whisper. “Will you take him now or let him say good-bye to his family first?”
“We’ll go first to the village; Jenda, you’re going to Haven's Hold with Dane.”
At first Jenda was stunned and speechless. Slowly, a smile spread across her face. She reached over and hugged Dane. There was a mischievous glint in her eye. “You see, Dane, I always said you would need me to watch over you and keep you out of trouble. While those Magisects are training you, I will let them know of your annoying little habits like not changing your socks until they are stiff as boards and slurping your soup like a ravenous pig.”
Raza interrupted, “Jenda, you’re one of the Chosen.”
Her eyes widened. “I…I’m one of the Chosen? I thought they would all be men.”
“Three are male and two are female. We must be off so you can deliver these rabbits to the cook pots.” He rose effortlessly and whistled. A huge mottled warhorse stepped through the trees. Raza reached up and rubbed the horse’s nose. “His name is Blazer.” He motioned the two to precede him, mounted the horse and followed.
Raza found out that Dane and Jenda’s fathers were brothers. They hid the talismans as they had been instructed by the wraiths of Azar. Both men died before their children reached their third-year, one of fever sickness and the other from a fall from a cliff in the mountains of Tor during a sudden, blinding snowstorm. Uncle Mar assumed the role of father to each of them; they grew up more as brother and sister. Uncle Mar stubbornly refused to let them leave without him. Raza grew weary of arguing and finally acquiesced.
Anelle, Jenda’s mother, remained silent while her brother and Raza argued. When it was finally determined that Mar would accompany her daughter and nephew on the long trip to Haven's Hold, she felt a measure of relief. She knew about the talismans that marked the children as infants. When Raza spoke of them, Mar shot a questioning look at her. She murmured that it was true. A look of hurt and betrayal brushed across his face before he looked away.
Two days later the party of four prepared to set out. Anelle approached Mar and said quite firmly, “Mar, we need to talk . . . alone, before you leave.” Mar followed her out into the flower gardens. With a direct look she asked, “Mar, what’s wrong? You’ve deliberately avoided me. Don’t leave this way, not with a cloud of regret hanging over us.”
“You should have told me about the talismans, Anelle. We’ve been close from the time we were first able to communicate; to my knowledge we have never kept secrets as important as this from each another.” His look showed no hint of forgiveness.
Her eyes misted. “Mar, do you recall when Raza said wraiths of Azar instructed the parents of the Chosen to hide the talismans and tell no one? That was a very general statement. The spirit that appeared to us was Mother. She was very explicit in her instructions. Jon alone was to hide the talisman. She said we were never to speak of it because changelings could be lurking about to hear even a whisper or see a written word that would lead them to the Chosen. I longed to share it with you. I just couldn’t risk the lives of Jenda or Dane.” She took his hands into her own and asked, “Do you understand?”
He thought about her statement a moment and pulled her into a hug. “Of course I understand. I only wish I could have been there for you.”
She moved her head away from his chest so she could look up into his eyes. “You were there, Mar. You were the rock on which the children and I leaned, and you ease my mind now because you’re going to accompany them. I love you my brother. Please, take care of yourself and them.”
“You have my oath on that, Anelle.” he replied with resolve.
The small party of Raza, Mar, Jenda, and Dane traveled through the wooded trails that would take them through the mountains of Tor and eventually southeast to Barranda and Haven's Hold.
Jenda was exhilarated by the changes. By contrast, gnawing feelings of dread tormented Dane. He suspected Raza hadn’t told them everything. He believed Uncle Mar thought so, too, or he wouldn't have insisted on coming along. The morning passed as they climbed and threaded their way through evergreen forests until they came to a meadow of wild grasses splashed with colorful wild flowers and aspen stands. A small stream wended its way through the aspen. They stopped to water and rest the horses and eat a small meal before moving on. They were approaching the horses to set out once again when Raza lifted his arm and hissed, “Silence!” He tilted his head, listened and pointed to a thick stand of pine about sixty yards away. “Take your horses and go quickly into the trees.” They hesitated when Raza didn’t follow. He commanded, “Go!” He issued several low whistles. Blazer backed into the aspen, his mottled colors blending him in.
The other three rode into the stand of pine, dismounted and tied their horses. They crept behind a cluster of chokecherry bushes to watch. They saw Raza disappear into the aspen just before an ominous beast emerged from their back trail onto the meadow. Jenda gasped. “What is that thing?”
“Don’t move a muscle or make a sound,” Mar whispered.
The huge, manlike creature's eyes resembled those of a wolf. A pig-like snout extended from its face. Its massive clawed hands were covered with the same thick, dark fur that enveloped its head. It was garbed in dark breeches, leather boots and a long flowing black cloak. It gripped a thick shaft fitted with a curved spearhead. When it reached the meadow the creature lifted its huge head and sniffed. With long rapid strides it moved toward the area where they had eaten and rested.
Jenda trembled; Mar carefully and slowly put his arm around her. He squeezed with soft pressure hoping it would calm her. As the creature moved farther into the meadow a cold chill invaded their bodies like icy snakes slithering within and wrapping around their bones. It was so difficult not to move; yet the fear they felt and their instinct to survive prevailed. They remained motionless, barely breathing for fear the creature might hear.
At last it stood at the edge of the stream. It cocked its head first to the aspen grove, then in the direction of the pines where the three were crouched behind the chokecherry bushes. Several moments passed. The creature appeared indecisive. Suddenly, it began striding directly toward the pines and the party of three. Raza broke from the aspen and moved to divert the creature from its chosen path. He drew his broadsword in a blurring motion so fluidly fast it was hardly perceptible. The creature let out a loud, guttural roar that echoed through the mountain and lunged at Raza. It swung the spear in a downward arc. Raza ducked under and left. With a deft backhand, he smashed his broadsword like a hammer, connected with the creature's shoulder. Its eyes were yellow pools of rage as it flung the spear and rushed in to attack. Raza nimbly stepped aside and diverted the spear with his sword, but the maneuver cost him as the creature rammed into him with such force the sword was knocked from his grip. He was thrown airborne before he hit the ground.
Blazer charged from the trees while Raza hunched up on his hands and knees gasping for breath. He climbed unsteadily to his feet and scanned the ground for his sword. Blazer continued to circle the creature, lunging and backing just out of reach of the spear. The warhorse nipped the creature on the thigh, backed away, whinnied with a roll of his head and reared on his hind legs in challenge.
Out of the pines came the party of three riding swiftly to render aid to Raza. The creature roared with rage as it moved to attack Blazer. It allowed Raza time to maneuver from behind and swing his sword. The creature turned for just an instant and saw the blurred blade just before it sliced off its head. The body of the creature crumpled to the ground, its hands twitching.
The three horsemen rode up. Mar dismounted and asked Raza, “Are you injured?”
“No.” Raza turned away, walked to the stream and washed the creature's blood from his sword before placing it back into its sheath. He mounted Blazer and headed out without looking back. Jenda and Dane exchanged unknowing glances. Uncle Mar motioned them to follow Raza. He mounted his skittish horse, glanced at the severed head and followed the others.
By late afternoon they approached an area littered with boulders and twisted cedar trees. The trail wended along a rocky ledge. One side dropped into a deep gorge through which the Dorn River snaked its way through the mountains of Tor into the Gedda Plains and beyond. The trail soon became so narrow they dismounted and led the horses. After several tedious hours they rode down a trail that descended into the gorge. The sun was a ball of haze in the west, a signal the end of the day was close at hand.
The riverbank wasn’t very broad. Raza continued on until he found a large open cave into which they and the horses would fit. Mar, Dane and Jenda tied their horses to cedar roots that threaded through the craggy walls of the cave. They removed the saddles and packs, prepared to camp for the night. Dane offered to gather wood and start a fire. Raza merely nodded. He hadn’t spoken a word since leaving the mountain meadow. He removed his saddle and pack from Blazer. The big horse playfully butted his nose against Raza's face and left the cave to munch the grass along the riverbank.
They were silent as they ate a meal of cold rabbit, fruit and bread. Jenda heated water in a metal cylinder to brew tea and served it in stone mugs.
Mar studied Raza. There was much he wanted to discuss with him, but he refrained since it was apparent that Raza was in no mood to talk.
Dane wasn't affected by the silence. He wondered how he could possibly be one of the Chosen. He looked at Raza wishing some of the Commander’s courage would rub off on him.
Jenda returned from washing the mugs in the river. She set them down near the fire, and then whirled to confront Raza. “Enough of this silence!” she scolded. “You were courageous in your battle with the wolf thing. You saved our lives. We’re grateful. It’s past. Just how long are you going to mope about it?”
Mar and Dane stared at her in stunned silence. Raza favored her with a sharp look. When he spoke, each word grated like a knife scraping over rock. “It was not a wolf thing; it was a Churl. I neither seek nor do I want your gratitude. I do not mope simply because I choose not to waste my time with idle chatter.” She flinched when he abruptly stood and strode out of the cave.
Jenda turned with a huff to spread out her bedroll. “He’s impossible,” she muttered.
Mar was angry with her. “Count your blessings, Jenda. You’re fortunate he didn't punish you. I'm tempted to do it myself. You’ve no right being rude to him. He nearly lost his life today saving ours. He diverted that horrible Churl from coming for us. He’ll speak when he’s ready.” Mar's warning was unmistakable when he added, “Disrespect him again, and you will be sleeping outside of the cave all by yourself.” Her head was down. “Look at me,” he rasped; do you understand?”
She whispered, “Yes, Uncle Mar.”
“Both of you get some sleep. Dawn will come soon enough.”
The following morning Jenda followed Raza out of the cave. He turned and asked, “What do you want?” His gaze was riveting.
“I was wrong and rude. Please forgive me,” she whispered.
Raza studied her a moment. “Yes, you were. It is forgotten.”
For the next twelve days they traveled through the gorge along the west bank of the river. At times the bank widened into willow and cottonwood groves that supported small animals and deer. Dane and Jenda kept them supplied with meat.
On the third week the rocky cliffs give way to rolling hills forested with fir, pine, spruce and aspen. Nearer the riverbanks were stands of cottonwood trees. In two days they would descend from the foothills onto the Gedda Plain where they would ford the river and turn east.
Raza kept mostly to himself until the second day out of the gorge. At twilight they set up camp. Dane and Jenda headed down the riverbank to an area where several boulders jutted out into the water. The side below the flow of current had still water teeming with fish. Mar built a fire near a stand of old cottonwoods and quietly smoked his pipe.
Raza came up and sat facing Mar. “We need to talk.” Mar took a puff from his pipe and gave him an attentive look. “I’ve been wondering how to tell you about something that’s plaguing me.” Raza hesitated; he was obviously uncomfortable. “It’s about Dane and Jenda . . . and you. You shouldn’t have come to my rescue when I battled the Churl. You should have fled with them. They’re more important than I. It’s imperative they arrive safely at Haven's Hold. Had I survived, I would have found you.”
“That’s why you were angry that day. It puzzled me. I understand what you’re saying. You don't need to hesitate to speak to me, Raza.”
“That isn’t the problem I want to talk about. It’s about my relationship with Dane and Jenda. I’m their father now. It’s why I was chosen to take them to Haven's Hold. It isn’t merely to be a guide and protector. We’ll be together for years.” He looked down toward the river where Dane and Jenda were fishing. “There are things I need to teach them. It’s difficult because they look upon you as their father.”
“I promise not to interfere with you in any way concerning them.”
Raza looked up slowly and gave Mar a discerning look. Mar met his look and quietly asked, “Do you want me to turn back?”
“Yes.”
His brow furrowed, Mar asked, “Why did you let me come then? I'll admit that I was quite stubborn about it, but you could have persuaded me otherwise by telling me what you just did.”
“I was wrong,” Raza admitted. “It was your sister. I saw the doubt in her about me.” With an apologetic look he added, “You won’t lose them forever. On this you have my oath.”
Mar stared at the fire. “I’ll turn back in the morning.”
“We’ll need your horse.” Mar started to object, but Raza lifted his hand to cut him off. “I’ll summon Mo Demz. He’ll open a portal to the northern foothills near your village of Roshe. You can walk from there.”
Mar stared at Raza in stunned silence. It was difficult for him to comprehend. Not wanting to antagonize Raza, he chose his words carefully. “You’re saying that I will be home in a matter of hours when it took weeks to get here. If such a method exists, why isn’t it used to transport Dane and Jenda to Haven's Hold? They don’t need to be put at risk by Churls and the other dangers that this travel entails. That’s the question that puzzles me most.”
“Magic isn’t permitted on this trek by command of Azar. Their training began the day we left Roshe. When the day comes for them to set out on their quest to fight the evil of Condragon, it will be their own cunning, experience and magic that will prevail. They must not come to depend on the magic of others; it will weaken them. You don’t comprehend what they’ll be up against. I do. I fought against the evil of Condragon in the Third Age.”
“That was two thousand years ago! How can that be?”
“Don’t speak of this to the children,” Raza commanded. “When Azar formed the Barranda Sect early in the Third Age, it was to form some sort of control over the magic that existed on the lands and to distinguish between that which was good and that which was evil. Azar appeared in dreams to those women with magic compelling them to gather at Haven's Hold. Mo Demz met them. He used his magic to bring forth the citadel of Haven's Hold at the command of Azar. Azar knew Condragon would attempt to destroy it; He asked Mo Demz to choose Commanders to set up the Barrand Guards. Our purpose is to protect the Sect, Haven’s Hold and the rest of the lands from Condragon’s evil. I’m one of the original Commanders. Since the Haven is located in Barranda, Mo Demz named us the Barrand Guards. I was a boy of fifteen; Mo Demz became my instructor and my father.
“It was less than twelve years later that Condragon sent forth his demons to destroy Haven's Hold, but the Barrand Guards and the Sect prevailed. Shortly after the demons were destroyed, Azar placed The Book of Empyrean into the hands of Mo Demz. It tells of the possible destruction of Condragon in the Fifth Age and of the powerful warlocks and witches he will unleash on the lands. Throughout the years we’ve been called forth to do battle with Condragon's evil. This is the most dangerous age of all because either Condragon or Azar will prevail. The five Azar chose to battle the warlocks and witches possess powerful magic; for this we must discipline and prepare them.”
Mar was silent for a long while as he pondered what he heard. He looked up at Raza and asked, “Why is it you look about as old as I do?”
“At the time the Sect and guard were established, it was Azar who determined our life spans. Perhaps by comparison to your life span, we are close to the same age.” Raza tossed another piece of wood on the fire before he continued. “No matter how many battles I fought in the past, nothing compares to the task ahead concerning Dane and Jenda.” He turned to look full on at Mar. “Does that help you to understand?”
“Yes.”
“I must leave now to summon Mo Demz.” Raza disappeared into the trees.
Dane and Jenda returned with fish. Dane rigged two forked branches by the fire to hold the long one Jenda used to skewer the fish. Mar watched them with wonder. The realization of who they were, and what they would become, played in his mind. He still regretted having to turn back, but he understood.
Raza returned with Mo Demz. They walked toward the fire where the others were eating their meal of fish and tea. Jenda had another string of fish skewered and cooking over the fire. They stood as the men approached. Raza introduced Mo Demz to Mar, Jenda and Dane; then he asked Jenda to prepare food for Mo Demz. A flicker of surprise flashed across Raza's face when she handed him and Mo Demz a plate of fish. Raza accepted the plate. Mo Demz had a hint of a smile on his face knowing that Raza hated fish. Raza took a deep breath and ate it all. Jenda started to put more on his plate; he raised his hand to stop her, “Enough.”
“You can’t be serious! You barely ate enough to fill the belly of a small child. A man of your size should eat at least three times as much; otherwise you’re going to grow weak and be taken ill. What good are you to anyone then?” Once again Mar and Dane were shocked by her brash behavior.
Though he truly tried, Mo Demz could contain himself no longer. He laughed so hard he could hardly breathe. Tears rolled down his cheeks. He glanced at Raza and laughed all over again. Jenda stared at Mo Demz as if he had lost his mind, but Mar and Dane smiled as they were caught up in the old man's laughter. An irritated Raza walked off. When Mo Demz regained the ability to speak, he said, “Raza detests fish—has all of his life. I’m amazed he ate any at all. And Jenda demanding that he eat more was too funny.”
Mar also saw the humor in it. He also sensed that Raza’s patience was wearing thin with her. Still, he shrugged off the impulse to warn her. He promised not to interfere.
Mo Demz and Mar moved away from the fire and settled against the trunks of nearby trees. Mar lit his pipe and said, “Since you’re here, I should be home soon.”
“Perhaps not; I have a proposition for you. I need a liaison to travel to the land of the Que Pons and to Mordland where the giants live.”
Mar felt the intent gaze of the old man. “I know nothing of these places, though I’ve heard about the giants. My lack of knowledge leads me to believe I’m a poor choice for this undertaking.”
“I wouldn’t send you blindly out into those lands. First you would go to Haven's Hold where Sect Mistress Asenda would instruct you in the ways of the Que Pons and the Mords. Commander Moda will be your companion. He’s well acquainted with both the Que Pons and the Mords.” Mo Demz paused a moment before adding, “If you wish, he will instruct you in the use of a broadsword, cudgel and other forms of self-defense perfected by the Barrand Guards and their Commanders. Perhaps . . . you will consider becoming one?”
“Mo Demz, I would be honored.”
Mo Demz smiled. “Mar, I’m honored. Go now to Jenda and Dane. Tell them you’ll be going on ahead to Haven's Hold, and you will see them again before leaving on your trek. Also, tell them Raza is their father at the command of Azar. When you’ve said your good-byes I’ll open a portal near Haven's Hold for you. Moda will be there to take you to the Haven. Mar, don’t worry about Jenda and Dane, and don’t doubt Raza. There are none more honorable than the Commanders.”
When Mar was ready he returned to the tree where Mo Demz was seated, much as he’d left him; only now Raza sat near him.
“Raza said there is a small clearing a little farther into the trees. We’ll go there,” Mo Demz said as Raza led the way.
When they reached the clearing, Mo Demz lifted his arms and a portal appeared. Mar saw a misty blue haze. Mo Demz spoke to Mar, “Step through.”
The following morning, Raza and his charges descended to the Gedda Plain. He warned Dane and Jenda to be alert and stay close when they reach it because dark, striped catamounts hid in the tall grass and scrub or behind the boulders. He also warned them to watch for hornwists, the giant lizards that boasted two razor sharp horns that curved forward from the sides of their heads. “If you ever encounter one, don’t let it close in; it whips its head about using its horns to shred its victims. They aren’t fast, but they are cunning. They will attack in enclosed areas where their prey cannot escape. The only way to kill them is to penetrate the area between their eyes. The rest of their bodies are too heavily armored.” Raza kept the river in view, ever watchful as he led them through. The spongy ground suggested a recent rain.
Dane felt a nervousness he couldn’t truly define—a vague feeling of discomfort, edginess, a feeling of dread. Then suddenly he felt the chill, the same terrifying icy cold he had experienced with the Churl. He reached for his bow and loaded an arrow. Jenda did the same. Raza dismounted and drew his broadsword. Dane turned to see that Mo Demz was also dismounted with narrow blades in his hands. Then, he saw them rise from the tall grass up to his left—two Churls. A third sprang from behind a boulder. They carried long, thick spears.
Raza turned to meet the charge of the two off to the left. Jenda fired an arrow. It found its mark, hit one in the left eye. It roared in pain and flung its spear in a back-thrusting motion that sliced the shoulder of the second. Raza rushed forward, slashed his sword across the chest of the one Jenda hit. He turned swiftly to meet the second when it suddenly screamed, a high-pitched echo of agony. A hornwist whipped its head back and forth, shredded the Churl's legs into a bloody pulp.
The third Churl momentarily slowed its advance, but then it charged. Dane and Jenda fired arrows at it. One struck it in the chest and glanced off its armored vest. The other penetrated one of its wolf ears. It howled in pain and rage and charged again focusing on Raza. It didn’t see Mo Demz, who moved with blurring speed just off the Churl's left side and flung his knives. They penetrated its snout. It dropped the spear and fell to its knees, and then grasped its head before collapsing to the ground.
Another hornwist appeared near the other. Several more could be seen heading in their direction. Raza and Mo Demz quickly mounted up; Raza led them away at a faster pace than before. It was another hour's ride before they arrived at the narrows of the Dorn River.
Suddenly, Mo Demz rode around Dane and Jenda and caught up with Raza. They talked briefly, and then Raza motioned Dane and Jenda to stop. He rode back to them. “Sit still and calm your horses.” Jenda started to speak, but he silenced her with a glance.
Mo Demz dismounted and walked about fifteen paces in front of his horse. He stood very still with his arms at his sides. Something rustled near the rocks. Then it appeared atop them, a huge animal with a solid black head and legs. It had thin stripes of black and gray across its torso and tail. The catamount leapt from the rock, a picture of grace with its muscles rippling step by step as it approached Mo Demz. It sat on its haunches, its eyes level with those of the wizard. Mo Demz talked softly to the cat, then turned and strode back to his horse. He rode back to the others and told them the animal agreed to guide them as far as the foothills of Barranda. Mo Demz took up his position in the rear while Raza rode forward to lead the party behind the catamount.
The cat led them at a faster pace, though not straight. Sometimes he veered sharply from his chosen course circling them around some hidden danger that he sensed. They arrived at the narrows without meeting any more Churls, catamounts, or hornwists. The cat plunged into the water and swam to the other shore while the others forded the river at a slower pace.
One more hour of crisscrossing travel through the eastern edge of the Gedda brought them to the foothills of Barranda. The sharp contrast in the terrain was unmistakable. The catamount stopped and sat. Mo Demz dismounted and approached it. He reached out and scratched the big cat's ears. It purred with a low rumbling sound and closed its eyes in enjoyment. Mo Demz remained with the cat for several minutes before returning to his horse to join the others.
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