A Warrior's Journey (2 page)

He didn’t feel that it was his job to report
what he knew about his brother’s activities unless his parents
asked him, which they did sometimes about various things. Gavin
sighed and laid down the half finished sword that his hands were
still itching to continue working on.

At least one of the two of them had to be
responsible and show up to the welcoming committee. It looked like
he had been elected by process of elimination.

In all fairness Zevin did usually make the
social appearances so it was at least somewhat justified for him to
skip out on one such occasion. Gavin closed the door of the
blacksmith shop and ambled somewhat reluctantly up the path to the
great hall and the loud cheering throng that had gathered.

Roric kept his face controlled from the
anger he felt, when he learned that Talaric had taken off with
Zarsha to visit Krista without first coming to report to him. Larc
stood before him in all seriousness expecting to get his share of
abuse for letting Talaric run off, as he well knew what was going
through his mentor’s mind.

It was always the duty of the patrol leader
to give the report and Talaric had been the patrol leader.

“What do you have to report?” Roric asked
stiffly.

Larc swallowed and began, “It’s as you
feared sir. The Zoarinians have begun to exert influence once more
in the Southern Settlements. They have not made a military presence
yet, but I fear that they are making their presence felt in a
darker way.”

“Are you referring to the dark cult that we
are increasingly hearing of?” Roric asked sitting up slightly.

“I’m afraid so Roric. We heard and saw
evidence of the presence of their priests everywhere.”

“Did you see them?”

“No that was what was most disturbing. They
seemed to know that we were coming and vanished before us. What I
found most disturbing though Roric is that after everything we have
done to free the Southern Settlements from Zoarinian control they
seem to be drifting back to them and these new strange
beliefs.”

Roric nodded gravely, “Thank you Larc. You
can go now.”

“Yes Sir!” Larc said eager to get away from
the tempest he saw brewing in his step father’s eyes.

Roric got up and stared out the large window
of his private council chamber at the grand panoramic vista that
opened up beyond the walls of the castle. He didn’t like any of
what was happening.

It had been twenty two years since the great
battle that had won the Valley Landers their freedom from the
threat of the Zoarinian Empire. The first twenty of those years had
been the best years of his life, but the last two had been full of
troubles.

At times he didn’t know if he was imagining
the threat he felt or if it was really happening. For some time now
he had the feeling that everything was slipping away somehow.

It had started with the emergence of a
strange dark cult that called themselves, Lights of the
Prophets.

They taught a strange story that had
similarities to the words of the Creator, but was marketably
different in where it led its believers and what it asked of them
in regards to salvation and the end of time. Worst of all he
thought that he knew where this dark new faith had come from, the
accursed book that Father John had stolen so many years before.

Once again as in that past time, Roric felt
that the Valley Landers were becoming isolated away from the rest
of the world, while the forces of darkness gathered in the
shadows.

Would it be a war fought with swords and
arrows this time or something else?

More important was it a war that they would
win? One thing was certain; war was coming in one form or another.
Movement caught Roric’s eye outside the window and he saw Talaric
climbing up the stairs outside headed for the meeting that had been
his responsibility to keep and not Larc’s.

Roric saw Larc headed down the stairs no
doubt intending to stop him. Talaric made as if to pass, but Larc
grabbed a hold of him and pulled him along back down the stairs. It
was evident that the two were speaking heatedly with each other,
but Talaric let Larc lead him away.

Inwardly Roric thanked Larc for keeping him
from his oldest son. Today was one of those days when the iron
control that he kept on his temper was wearing decidedly thin. Of
all the other things going wrong, his oldest son’s antics were
among his chief concern.

Where had the boy, who had idolized him and
wanted to grow up to be just like him gone? Mentally Roric ticked
off some of the behaviors that Talaric had started manifesting in
the past two years; tardiness, lying, causing fights, lack of
discipline, not obeying orders, and most lately whoring.

He hadn’t told Krista about the latest
addition, but she probably already knew. Roric examined himself for
the thousandth time since this behavior had begun.

Was he a bad father?

Was he somehow to blame for all this?

He couldn’t see how he had modeled any of
those behaviors to his son, quite the opposite actually. A cool
hand slipped into his right hand and he looked to the side to see
his lovely wife beside him. Her presence was always calming and he
welcomed that relief especially right at this moment.

She drew into his side wrapping her arms
around him and he wrapped his right arm around her shoulders and
drew her tightly to him seeking the comfort of her embrace. They
stared out the window together for a moment.

“Talaric he…”

Her hand came up and covered his mouth
softly. “I know dear. I heard.” She said softly.

“Honey am I a bad father?”

“Of course not! Talaric is responsible for
his own actions, not you. He is of an accountable age and you have
only modeled the best behavior to him and all your children.
Talaric knows what he is doing is wrong, but he’s choosing to rebel
never the less.”

“Why? Doesn’t he know what’s at stake? And
if that wasn’t enough, how can he walk out on his faith and us like
he is?”

“He’s young and full of youthful desires and
he’s simply making selfish choices. One day he’ll see that the way
he’s behaving is costing him more than it’s worth and he’ll come
back to us. What’s important for us to do is to keep loving him and
praying for him.”

Krista moved around to stand in front of him
and looked up at him with a serious look in her eyes, “If I could
make a suggestion?”

“Always!”

“Don’t neglect your other children any
longer. They need you too.”

“I know honey!” Roric said shaking his head
in acknowledgement of his shortcoming.

“Now enough of all the dark thoughts I saw
you stewing on when I came in here. Zarsha is waiting for you in
the butterfly garden with some very good news and when you get
caught up with her you know where you can find me.” She finished
with a seductive purr.

Roric reached to grab her, but she danced
back out of reach waving a finger no, while an impish grin played
across her face.

He smiled and let her go, enjoying the view
she gave him on her way out of the room. There was a lot to be
grateful in his life, despite his son’s rebellion and it was time
that he started living his life again. He left the meeting chamber
and headed for the flower garden that was higher up in the castle
complex.

Zarsha was waiting on a bench that sat
alongside the trail through the flowers. She saw him coming up the
path and jumped up with the grace of a wild doe and sprinted the
rest of the way to him to envelope him in a bear hug that he
laughingly returned in equal measure.

She drew back slightly, laughing herself and
met his eyes. She didn’t have to look up either, because she was
every bit as tall as him. It was a little comical, when she was
beside her husband, Captain Jansa.

He was shorter by several inches and of
smaller build than she was, but they loved each other so what did
it matter.

The smile on her face went to a frown,
“Father?”

She reached out and touched the gray hairs
starting to spring out everywhere.

“Never mind them. Tell me what’s the good
news?”

The smile returned to her face, “In seven
months I’m going to make you a grandfather.”

Roric stared into her eyes entranced by what
she had just said.

“Really?”

“Yes really Father!”

“Oh honey you shouldn’t be running around
like you just did when you came up to me! You’ve got to take care
of yourself!”

“I’m fine Father, but I’ll try to slow down
just for you.”

Roric folded his arms around his oldest
daughter again, but more gently this time. “I’m so happy for you
Zarsha! How’s the Captain feel about this new addition to your
family?”

“He’s so excited! He won’t let me do
anything for myself though!”

“That’s the way it should be, enjoy it. Now
tell me everything.”

Roric feeling like a new man ambled down
through the castle grounds towards the blacksmith shop, where he
knew he had a good chance of finding either one or both of his twin
sons.

It was late afternoon now. He had spent the
rest of the morning with Zarsha and then he had ostensibly retired
to his chambers for a quiet lunch with his wife. He couldn’t but
help grin to himself as the memories of his luncheon date with his
wife came back to him.

He wished all lunches with his lovely wife
could last for three hours the way this one had. He looked up from
the path before him to the blacksmith shop. From the pounding going
on inside, at least one of his sons was here. He pushed through the
door and saw Gavin putting the finishing touches on a long dagger.
Gavin looked up and was obviously surprised to see him here.

Roric stepped up to the work bench and
studied the faultless creation of his son’s work, “Your work is of
the finest that I’ve ever seen Gavin. You’re truly becoming a
master at this.”

Gavin’s face flushed at the praise and he
looked everywhere other than his father’s face. “Do you have a
moment Gavin? There’s something I need to tell you.”

Gavin set the long dagger he had been
working on down and folded a cloth over it and then turned giving
his father his full attention. Roric smiled slightly and stepped up
to his young giant and placed his hands on his shoulders. At
fifteen Gavin was already as tall as him and something told him
that he had inches to go yet.

“Son I need to apologize to you about
something. I’ve done you and your brother a disservice as a father
for quite a while now by not spending the time with you that I
should have. I’m sorry. I’ve let other things get in the way of
spending time with two fine emerging men who I’m very proud of.
I’ll try to do better.”

Gavin wasn’t big on showing emotion, which
was why it surprised Roric, when he reached out and enfolded him
with his arms in a clenching hug that spoke of a very deep
emotional current. He felt his big quiet son’s forgiveness in the
intensity of the hug and relished every moment of it. Gavin was a
rock that he knew he could always rely on.

Gavin drew back and met his eyes with a
directness that told Roric that his son was no longer a boy, but a
man at heart, “I’m here for you Father, whenever you need me I’ll
be there for you.”

A tear slipped down Roric’s cheek at his
son’s words, “I know you will son.”

Roric slapped Gavin on the back and turned
to leave. “Father I have a favor to ask of you.”

Now this was a surprise! Gavin hardly ever
asked for anything.

“What is it son?”

“I was wondering if I might study your sword
some, up close and here in the shop?”

Roric smiled, he had been wondering how long
it was going to be before Gavin asked this of him.

“I’ll bring it by in the morning Gavin. And
Gavin?”

“Yes Sir?”

“I’ll show you some things about it that
I’ve never shown anyone else.”

Gavin’s eyes got big and he said, “Yes
Sir!”

“Gavin where can I find your brother?”

“He’s at the practice field with Rolf.”

Roric nodded his head, and turned to leave
knowing that he had made his son’s day. The thought of something
stopped him though and he turned back to Gavin.

“Gavin?”

“Yes Sir.”

“I would presume that by studying my sword
that you one day hope to create such a sword as it?”

Gavin nodded his head.

“Tell me who would you make such a sword
for?”

Without hesitation Gavin responded,
“Zevin.”

“Why son?”

Gavin hesitated and then said, “I think that
one day he will do great things and need such a sword as
yours.”

“I think your right Gavin. He couldn’t ask
for a better brother than you or I a better son. See you at the
banquet tonight Gavin.”

Roric closed the door and headed towards the
practice fields reflecting on his son’s words as he went. Reaching
the practice fields he saw Rolf leaning up against a column.

Rolf sensed him and turned slightly to view
him approach. Rolf always seemed to have eyes in the back of his
head it seemed. As Roric drew close to Rolf he could see Zevin
practicing one of the sword rhythm dances.

A rhythm dance could be performed with a
variety of weapons and consisted of the expected movements of a
body and weapon in the synchronized motion of a battle. Roric
noticed, as he watched his son’s moves that Rolf had interjected
quite a few arena styled moves into the Valley Lander choreographed
dance of war.

Roric stopped beside Rolf and wasn’t
surprised by the abruptness of his friend’s words to him, “About
time you where here!”

Roric nodded excepting the censure from his
oldest friend, “How’s he doing?”

Rolf looked over at Zevin and then back at
Roric. He flipped the practice sword he had been holding at his
side over in midair and caught it by the dulled blade.