Dawn of Swords (24 page)

“I see what this is about, but you are wrong. Ashhur loves all of his children. He always has and always will. In truth, he was opposed to the idea of a ruling class. He sees all his children as equal parts of a united whole. The lordship was my idea, mine and my fellow Wardens’. As the surrogate guardians of your people, we felt it necessary for you to learn to govern yourselves as they have in the
east. We told Ashhur that his children deserve the chance to prove that the lessons he has taught them have taken hold in their hearts and minds, by administering their own laws, their own justice. It was not easy to convince him, but he eventually acquiesced.” He spread his arms out wide. “Obviously.”

Thoughts rushed through Geris’s brain. “But why would he listen? Doesn’t he know best?”

“Ah,” said Ahaesarus, wagging his finger before him. “That is a great truth, but there are layers to every truth that are not so transparent. Even the gods do not know all there is to know. Ashhur is a great and benign deity. He understands his limitations as well as his strengths. He recognizes that there are worthy ideas other than his own. Besides, if you are never given a chance to rule yourselves, then the lessons you learn will go untested, unproven. It is Ashhur’s love and trust of his children that has convinced him to agree with our plan.”

“Does he
really?
” asked Geris under his breath.

“Does he really what?”

The message of the dream burned in the forefront of his thoughts. “Does he really love us? It’s been three weeks since Martin died; yet after the memorial I have seen him only twice. I’ve heard it said he spends all his time in his solarium, alone with the goddess.”

His cheeks burned red.

“What if he loves her more than us?”

Ahaesarus’s mouth snapped shut. He glanced about the tent, his jaw tensed, creases lining the faultless skin around his nose. Ultimately, he slapped the table with his palm, creating a loud
thwack
that made Geris jump, and rose from his chair.

“Follow me,” he said, the cold authority once more restored to his tone.

The pair exited the tent, which was located on the fringe of Safeway, in full view of the Sanctuary. The Warden led him between plots where cabbage, potatoes, squash, and alfalfa grew, heading
toward the towering structure. Ahaesarus didn’t speak, and Geris could hear his rigid breathing. His mentor was either angry or in doubt, and he was afraid to guess the consequences of either mood.

The ground floor of the Sanctuary consisted of a huge round chamber with polished wood floors, ringed with various potted plants and other gifts the people had presented to their loving deity. When Geris passed beneath the giant archway and entered within, he was surprised to see that Ben and Judarius were already there, standing in the open space to the right of the altar. Judarius was ranting on about some great offense to the honor of their deity, his black hair whipping about his head. Hearing the sound of the newcomers’ footsteps, they both stopped what they were doing and turned around. Ben reacted first, offering Geris a cheerful wave and a goofy smile, looking every bit as young as his fifteen years. Judarius only scowled. The Warden had not acted the same toward him since they’d returned from Haven with Martin’s body in tow. He had railed against Jacob for his irresponsibility in bringing the boys to Haven, and since Ashhur’s most trusted left just days later, it seemed as though he was now passing that anger on to Geris, which wasn’t fair.
Ben
had been Jacob’s student. It should have been he that drew the Warden’s ire, not Geris. He hated it, but Ahaesarus told him to pay no mind to it, for it would pass in time.

They marched past the duo and down a wide corridor that was virtually hidden by a pair of colossal potted ferns. The immensity of the Sanctuary never ceased to humble Geris. He gazed at the walls they walked past, adorned with a giant, sprawling mural depicting the early days of humanity in the west; Ashhur sat cross-legged in the grass, while children played all around him under the watchful eyes of the kind-hearted Wardens. The beauty of the mural brought tears to Geris’s eyes. Finally, the nightmare that had poisoned him began to lose its grip on his soul.

They trod up the wide staircase at the rear of the passage, climbing forty-two steps until they reached the door to Ashhur’s solarium.
Geris’s heart climbed into his throat. He had never entered the solarium before—his time had always been spent in the Sanctuary’s main hall or the many classrooms that populated the other side of the structure. He suddenly felt intimidated, in awe of what he might see.

Ahaesarus rapped lightly on the door. His eyes looked pensive as they stared at the ten-foot-tall entrance. He waited a few moments, until rustling could be heard from the other side. Ahaesarus nodded in response to some directive Geris couldn’t hear, and he pushed open the door.

The solarium was huge yet sparsely furnished, making the place seem virtually empty. The walls were a deeply stained mahogany, decorated with only two placards, set on opposite sides of the vast room, upon which the words
LOVE
and
FORGIVE
were printed. There was a lush red carpet underfoot, and its fibers tickled the soles of Geris’s bare feet. The only furniture in the room was a single four-poster bed, the largest he had ever seen, its spires rising nearly twenty feet into the air, reaching for the hole cut into the Sanctuary’s domed roof.

There were two enormous figures sitting on that bed. Ashhur was on the left, wearing a wrinkled tunic and sandals, his blond locks curiously unkempt. The god stroked his beard and stared at the twosome, a strangely vacant expression in his golden eyes. Beside him was a woman of unmatched beauty whom Geris didn’t recognize. She wore a simple but alluring brown dress; her dark hair hung down to her hips; and her eyes were like distant black voids that bore into his soul. It took him a moment to notice that the woman was built on Ashhur’s scale, and his jaw fell open when he realized who she must be. Though he had never seen her in anything other than her starlit form, she could be only one person, one being.

Celestia.

Almost at once, both Geris and Ahaesarus dropped to their knees.

“Pardon our interruption, Your Grace,” Ahaesarus said. “I meant no disrespect”

“What is the meaning of this?” asked Ashhur. Geris had to fight the urge to cover his ears.

“The kingling has a question for you, Your Grace. I felt he should ask you in person.”

“Not here,” replied the god, his voice dropping in pitch as if he were sighing. “Not now. Have the boy wait for me in the yard. I shall be there forthwith.”

“Yes, Your Grace,” said Ahaesarus with reverence, and he guided Geris back out of the solarium, down the staircase, and out of the Sanctuary. Geris was so anxious that he didn’t even register the presence of Judarius or Ben this time. His nerves were so electrified it felt as if the tiny hairs covering his body were thousands of needles pricking his flesh.

Ahaesarus had him sit in the courtyard outside the short wall surrounding the Sanctuary.

“He will be with you shortly,” the Warden said. “I cannot stand by your side, as your inquiries must be between you and your god in solitude.”

Geris nodded, although he didn’t like the uncertain tone lingering beneath each word his mentor uttered. It took his every effort to not run off and hide after the Warden took his leave and returned home.

He knew the moment Celestia left the Sanctuary, for the afternoon sky brightened as if invisible clouds had ceased to cover the shining sun. Ashhur appeared almost immediately afterward, ducking beneath the Sanctuary entrance and stepping over the surrounding wall. The deity appeared to be in a much more welcoming mood, and for that Geris breathed a rickety sigh of relief.

“I apologize, young Felhorn, for the way I spoke earlier,” Ashhur said. “You caught me unprepared.”

Ashhur sat and bade Geris to do the same. Geris gazed up; the deity towered over him like a tree, even though he was sitting.

“How could you not be prepared? You’re a god…you
created
us. Don’t you know what’s going to happen before it does?”

Ashhur smiled a tender, kind smile. “If only that were the truth, my son. There was a time when it was, in an age and place I cannot explain to you. But I am neither omniscient nor infallible. Just like the universe, I am constantly changing, constantly learning, sometimes from mistakes I have made.”

“Oh.”

“Ahaesarus mentioned you had a question, obviously one of significant importance. Do you wish to share that question with me?”

The way Ashhur spoke, the kindness permeating his voice, resonated through Geris’s body, creating a state of calm and casting aside all his doubts. He told Ashhur everything—about the feelers in the dark, the shifting demon, the shadow-lion, the stone Ashhur bearing the sign of Celestia on its chest. He spoke of how he felt, how real the nightmare had seemed, and of the words the demon had spoken, the accusations of love lost and loyalty to another.

Ashhur listened patiently, his radiant eyes gazing at the clouds that gathered over the purple outline of the mountains in the west. When the tale was finished, they both sat in silence. The outside world seemed distant, as if Ashhur had wrapped him in a protective bubble that nothing but the love of the deity could penetrate. The only sounds he could hear were the beating of his own heart and the intake of his breath.

“Dreams can be portentous,” Ashhur said after a time. “They are not to be ignored, but considered, for in dreams we can receive warnings of the future or messages from the past. In worlds far from here, dreams have saved lives, stopped wars, and reunited long-lost loves. For when our minds are free from the earthly ties that bind us, we can sometimes see into the distance.”

Geris felt Ashhur’s finger slide over the back of his palm, and the warmth of his insides heightened.

“And what of my dream?” he asked. “Were the words of the shadow-lion…um…
portentous?
”

“You worry so,” laughed Ashhur. “No, my son, they are not portentous. My love for you is as great now as it has ever been. And my love for the goddess is not new. I have loved her from the moment our essences drifted past each other in the milky ether of infinity. I owe her much. She is wise, wiser than I am at times, and I benefit from her counsel. But she could never take your place. You are my children, and my responsibility lies now, and always, with you. Please do not fear my abandonment. It is not in my heart to ever leave you.”

“Thank you,” said Geris, his gratitude overwhelming him to the point of tears. “I’m sorry I doubted you. I love you so much…more than anything…more than my parents…more than becoming a king…more than my own life. The thought of losing you…I never want to feel that again.”

“Hush now,” the deity said, pulling the child in close. “There is no shame in fear, and there is no indignity in doubt. Beware your dreams, Geris, for while they can bring wisdom, they can also bring lies and despair. They can be the spreaders of falsehoods, the builders of a life of apprehension. So be still, my son, and hear my words. No harm shall befall you, and I promise, I will never leave your side, whether you become a great king or a simple farmer. You are perfect in my eyes, Geris Felhorn, and always shall be.”

Geris allowed the god to embrace him and fell fully into a trance of comfort. So contented was he that he never saw or questioned the touch of concern that darkened Ashhur’s features when the god turned his gaze toward the rolling meadows and the lands across the river to the east.

C
HAPTER

12

E
verything is falling apart.

It wasn’t just the palpable miasma of distrust that lingered in the air that made Soleh think this. The eyes of each person she passed on her way through the city skittered from side to side in panic. Shoulders hunched, hands were hidden from view, and footsteps quickened with a furtive sort of speed. The distant screams that cut through the morning air didn’t help matters any. People were being hurt, robbed, and murdered, right there in the streets. It was why Soleh now required an armed escort whenever she left the safety of either the Castle of the Lion or the Tower Keep.

Sixteen days. That was how long it had been since Clovis had drafted nearly all of the City Watch into Karak’s Army and then sent them south to Omnmount under the direction of two of his own children. Since the Left had served as the proxy Captain of the Watch, those responsibilities now fell to Malcolm Gregorian, the scarred survivor of Kayne and Lilah’s loyalty test. Serving as the Captain of both the Watch and the Palace Guard was a daunting task for one man, duties piled upon duties without ceasing. The loyal man was stretched too thin. He couldn’t control the
commotion in the palace and the turmoil that boiled in the city streets at the same time.

To make matters worse, the new men who had been brought in to replace the guard were nothing more than common thugs. They had an unkempt look about them, with thick guts from years of downing copious amounts of liquor, and there was no pride in the way they wore the purple sashes of the order. Almost all of the new recruits’ had a shifty, scheming look to them. Soleh had no idea what King Vaelor, the man responsible for their appointment, had seen in these ruffians other than their apparent aptitude for violence.

“Stay close, Minister,” said Pulo, one of the three palace guards who chaperoned her around the city. Pulo was a tall and lean man, but ropy muscles defined his arms. He kept his left hand on Soleh’s shoulder while his right crossed over the front of his body, his fingers resting on the pommel of the cutlass that hung from his hip. The burgundy half-cape on his back billowed with each step. His eyes flicked from side to side through the slit in his half helm, and he gritted his teeth. The late-morning crowd was thinner than usual—much thinner—but it seemed more dangerous in every possible way.

“Hold on the left,” said another of the Guard, a short, stocky man named Jonn. A bearded drunkard staggered close by, stumbling across the cobbled street and heading right for them. The man’s expression was blank and his movements clumsy, but Soleh knew that
clumsy
could present the greatest danger of all.