Destiny (47 page)

There was a moment of silence while the five thought this over.

“Aliana?”

“I’ve made up my mind. I’ll go with you.”

“Wherever she goes, I’ll go with her” said Komir.

“Me go too.”

“The prairies will have to wait a while for me…”

“And my Library as well,” Sonea concluded. “I’m not going to let this opportunity pass.”

Haradin stood up, very straight and erect. Solemnly he said: “I accept your proposal. I shall help you master your Gift and the power of the Ilenian medallions. In a week we’ll gather at the tower of my late friend Mirkos the Erudite. All the knowledge about magic we might need is kept there. It will be an honor to become your teacher.”

“And ours to become your disciples,” Aliana said for all of them.

At that moment a thunderous voice called from the door.

“Can’t I leave you for four seasons without you diving headlong into new trouble with that damned Ilenian magic?”

They all turned and gaped.

“Hartz!” cried Komir, jumping to his feet and spilling drink all over the table.

“You didn’t think I was going to miss this little gathering!” the big Norriel said, grinning from ear to ear.

Kayti appeared behind him. She was wearing her shining white armor. “This brute dragged me through half Tremia to make sure we got here in time,” she said.

They got to their feet amid cries of surprise and joy. Komir threw himself forward to hug his friend.

“Hey, I’ve really missed you!” he said.

“I’ve missed you too, little one!” Hartz lifted him off the floor in a bear-hug, leaving Komir’s legs dangling as he laughed.

Embraces and hearty handshakes were repeated with all the friends.

“Baldor, my good innkeeper!” Hartz called. “More beer, my throat is dry form the dust of the road!”

“The best beer of the house for the greatest of Heroes,” Baldor said amiably, and hastened to serve him.

“Greatest and with the smallest brain,” Kayti said with an impish grin.

Hartz glanced at her and laughed. “She’s still sore about the Troll,” he explained.

“Troll? What Troll?” Komir asked.

“You’d better sit down and tell us about your doings,” Haradin said. He waved towards the table.

“Awesome!” Hartz said, “I’m so hungry I could eat Baldor himself!”

The friends returned to the table and sat down, laughing.

Kayti poured herself a glass of wine. “This nincompoop went out to hunt a Troll in the Kingdom of Miriendad, beyond the Thousand Lakes, to the West,” she said.

“It wasn’t my fault, it was killing peasants! I just went to see what was going on!”

“Sure, sure. And accidentally you had to confront the monster.”

“He started it.”

“Started it? It’s just a brainless beast!”

“He was going to eat a peasant, I just told him to let him go or there’d be a few punches thrown.”

Kayti swore in three different languages. “I stand corrected. You’re the one who’s the brainless beast.”

“So what happened?” Lindaro wanted to know.

“This,” Hartz said and showed him his left arm. On it was a tremendous scar from shoulder to wrist.

“By the Light!”

“But he didn’t eat the peasant, and I have the Troll’s head as a trophy!” Hartz grinned from ear to ear and downed his beer in a single gulp.

“You’re impossible!” Aliana said, laughing.

“Don’t you ever change, my friend.” Komir said.

“Change? What’s there to change? I’m perfect!”

They all burst out laughing, even Kayti, who was shaking her head at the same time.

“What have you been doing?” Haradin said. “I couldn’t find you. I thought my message wouldn’t reach you in time.”

Kayti replied. “We crossed all Tremia to reach my kingdom, Irinel. It wasn’t easy, because this brute would get into trouble in every kingdom we passed through.” Hartz shrugged as he devoured a shank of lamb. “There we visited the fortress of my Brotherhood and I reported on the events to my superiors. Don’t worry, Haradin, I didn’t say anything specific about the Ilenians, the secret is safe with me. Then we went to the east coast, to Yort, one of the city-states of the alliance of Free Cities.”

“That’s an incredible city,” Hartz cried. “The streets are paved with gold. Everybody’s rich there!”

“Not quite, but yes… the five coastal city-states are really wealthy and powerful,” said Haradin.

Kayti nodded. “My superiors charged me with a mission, to the north of the Thousand Lakes, very near Zangria. We were there when your message reached us.”

Hartz waved a chicken-leg. “And as I didn’t want to miss the meeting, we postponed the mission, and here we are!” he said triumphantly.

“An object of power?” Haradin inquired.

“That’s right,” Kayti confirmed. “Ilenian, in all probability. We’ll search for it, and if we find it we’ll inform you first, before we tell my superiors.”

“I appreciate that,” Haradin said, acknowledging the gesture.

“All this business of searching for Objects of Power,” Hartz said. “I’m going to be pretty good at it, you’ll see.” He drank to the prospect.

“I’ve managed to have him made an honorary member of the Brotherhood,” Kayti said. “That way he can come with me and there won’t be any problems. Although I had to sweat blood to manage it.”

Komir laughed and nodded. The group chatted for hours, eating and drinking and exchanging stories all night. They reminisced about past adventures, they laughed and cried and toasted the health of the fallen heroes: Mortuc, Jasmine, Lomar, Kendas, Yakumo, and all the rest. Dawn found them still at the table.

“I think it’s time for a rest,” Haradin said. He pointed at good old Baldor, who was snoring with his head on the counter.

Komir stood up. “Before we leave there’s something I’d like to tell you all,” he said.

All eyes turned to him, and the conversation stopped.

“Something we’d both like to tell you,” said Aliana. She also stood up and took Komir’s hand. He motioned her to speak for both of them.

“With the blessing of the Mother Healer of my Order, which I resigned from before coming to this meeting, I’d like to tell you that Komir and I are going to wed. The ceremony will take place on the first day of summer, and we hope very much that you’ll all be able to attend.”

There was a moment’s silence while they all took in the full force of this announcement.

“By the three Norriel Goddesses!” Hartz thundered. “What awesome news!”

The big Norriel’s exclamation was followed by those of the rest of the group, who could not hold back their enthusiasm.

“That’s wonderful news,” Haradin cried. “My most sincere congratulations!”

“May the Light bless this wonderful union!” Lindaro said.

“Very happy!” said Asti.

The group broke into cheers, overwhelmed with happiness at the news.

And on that glorious dawn, with this wonderful news, the destiny of the Five Bearers and the Heroes of Tremia was sealed, for the good of the entire continent.

I really hope you enjoyed the book. If so I would really appreciate it if you could review it. It helps me tremendously.

Just go to Amazon.com or follow this link:
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Thank you very much.

Pedro.

P.S- I have included a preview of my new upcoming book ORIGIN next. Enjo
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"In a distopic fantasy world, the Soneca, the People of the Sea. have been enslaved by the Golden Gods. They live within the limits of the Border, for only one purpose: produce for the Gods or die.

Kyra, a seventeen-year-old girl, is selected, along with other young girls, and taken to the Gods.

Her brother Ikai will move heaven and earth to find her. They will fight for survival and escape, confronting a society costituted to serve the masters and the Gods themselves in their eternal dwelling.

A story of brotherly love, survival, fighting, loyalty and the search for freedom."

One

The Ring on his left wrist vibrated.

Ikai looked at it and a white radiance burst in his mind.

“
The Hill of Skies, in three days,”
was his Master’s message.

I’m summoned…I must leave.

He stared for a moment at the polished surface of the arcane golden metal, the hated Ring which marked the whole Senoca people as slaves of the Golden Gods. His eyes ran over the contours of the intricate engraving of the bracelet: a royal eagle with extended wings, the Hunters’ symbol.

Hunters of men, at the service of the Gods.

Ikai closed his eyes, shaking his head, and sighed.

He finished adjusting the armor of reinforced leather, enough to save him from a sword-strike if it was not too accurate, or the mauling of a wild beast, but it would not protect him from anything worse. He picked up his sword, the throwing dagger, the yew bow and his traveling bag with the rest of his Hunter equipment.

He crossed the common area of the humble farm and went outside. The sun received him with a gentle winter smile which warmed his body with its morning glow. In the Sixth County, the climate was warm for most of the year, one of the few blessings of the region as it was the poorest of the six Senoca Districts.

Dazzled, Ikai leaned on the out-of-joint door frame, the adobe wall had settled again. The building was so basic that any day now it would collapse. But it was the same with all the farms in the area, where hungry slave peasants struggled day after day to survive, to fulfill the quotas demanded by the Gods. Many did not manage it.

He shaded his eyes with his hand and saw them. They were working hard in the field, as they did every morning with the first light, as they did every new day. He watched his sister Kyra and his mood lightened. She helped their mother, Solma, willingly, to till the hard soil which barely fed them. He went to them with a smile in his soul.

“Ikay!” cried his sister when she saw him arrive. She dropped the hoe and ran to him.

Ikai watched her run like the wind —with her seventeen springs she was a year younger than he was, but almost the same height. She was pure nerve, as her thin, wiry body attested. Her tongue, though, was as fiery as her red hair, which had already created more than one complication. But Kyra’s heart was noble and her character indomitable, like the ruby gleam of her eyes. Ikai adored his sister and envied her lively, unbreakable spirit.

“Hold your reins, little sis, you’re going to make me fall,” Ikai said with a guffaw, trying to keep his balance with his sister hanging from his neck.

How different they were as siblings… both in looks and in character. He was like their father, Siul: tall, broad-shouldered and strong-armed, with straight brown shoulder-length hair and those damned eyes… his weird eyes… which everybody noticed and frowned upon: one intense emerald green and the other pale blue, almost grey, just like their father’s. His character was also his father’s, much calmer: patient and peaceful, totally unlike his sister. Kyra had inherited their mother’s physical traits, fortunately. But nobody knew where she had got her volcanic temperament from.

“Are you leaving again? You only just got here!” said Kyra reproachfully, taking a step back. Her eyes were fixed on the weapons Ikai carried, and her face hardened.

Ikai lowered his eyes.

“I’ve been summoned…”

Kyra frowned, and her eyes sparkled.

“You shouldn’t go with them, you know. What you do is wrong.”

Unable to look her in the eye, Ikai remained silent.

“Let your brother be, he does what he’s told, for us, for his family,” scolded her mother, panting from the effort.

Ikai watched Solma come up to them, a hoe in her hand. The strength of this woman made his eyes moist. She had raised them both practically on her own. The Eye-of-the-God had taken their father soon after Ikai turned ten. He never came back, and they never heard from him again. Ikai thought him dead, since those the Serfs of the Gods took away ended up in the mines or the Eternal City, the Gods’ dwelling. And nobody returned from there alive. Solma had raised them with great economy in order to fulfill the quotas, and even now that she was sick in the lungs she still struggled on their behalf, going out to work in the field every morning only to be forced to stop before noon with blood at the corners of her mouth, beaten by the illness.

“I don’t want him to do anything for me, to serve those false Gods and the despots who serve them among our people!” cried Kyra, clenching her fists.

Solma and Ikai straightened up, as if whipped by fear, and remained stiff.

“Kyra, be quiet, for the sake of our lives!” Solma scolded in a hoarse whisper, fear shadowing her face.

Ikai looked around at once, fear lying on his chest like a slab of stone. If a Proxy of the Regent had heard her she would end up in the quarry, or something worse… Luckily there was nobody near, only acres and acres of tilled fields and a few crows on a distant fence to the east.

“Kyra, be careful, you mustn’t raise your voice like that, you put yourself in danger… you put all of us in danger. If they take you away I won’t be able to do anything for you. The privileges of my position as Hunter are few…”

Kyra shook her fiery mane and seemed to reflect.

“All right,” she protested, waving her hands. “I only say what we all think,” she said in a low voice, and kicked a clot of dirt.

“I know you don’t approve of what I do, but it lets us obtain coin, and that allows me to buy medicine in the capital, Osaen, for Mother, for you. Very few can…”

“We’ll find another way, don’t sell your soul to the Gods for a few coins. If we sell ourselves, if we give up and become absolutely submissive to those pitiless Gods, we’ll remain a slave people for all eternity.”

“It’s the only way I have…”

“We’re the Senoca, the People of the Sea. Look at us, Ikai,” Kyra said, pointing at the fields around them. “They deny us the sea, they force us to work the fields without pause, starving us with quotas we can’t fulfill. We have nothing, we are nothing but a slave people.”

Ikai swallowed.

“We are slaves of the Golden, and so it has been for more than a thousand years. It’s not going to change today.”

“And so it will go on if we don’t do something.”

“Why are you like this today?”

Kyra raised her hands to the sky and cried out in rage.

“Ughhhhh! Forgive me, you’re right, it’s just that today is not just any day and I wanted to spend it with you, I don’t want to see you go…”

Ikai smiled slightly.

“You remembered?”

“How could I forget, tuna head!” Kyra said, laughing, and pushed him hard.

“Happy birthday, my son!” Solma said, and a wide smile lit up her face. For a moment Ikai saw his mother happy, something which rarely happened, and the good woman’s face seemed to be rejuvenated. For a brief moment the lost beauty Ikai remembered surged up from her joyful heart.

“Thanks, Mother,” said Ikai with a look of tender understanding, which his mother returned. Seeing her happy, even for just a moment, was the best gift Ikai could wish for.

“I can’t believe you’re eighteen already. You’re a man. The man of the family. You’re so much like your father…” she said stroking his hair. “Remember your father, remember the family, that must always come first. Keep it in mind, my son. Without a family we’re nothing more than a speck of dust carried away by the wind.”

Ikai nodded and smiled at her gratefully.

“I have a gift for you, come with me,” Kyra said, sounding happier now. “It’s a surprise, I think you’ll like it.” She took his hand and led him to the back of the house.

A centenarian oak rose there like an imposing guardian protecting the small, humble dwelling. Kyra bent over the massive roots and picked up an object wrapped in a linen cloth.

“Here, it’s for you,” she said with a smile, impatience gleaming in her ruby eyes.

Ikai unwrapped the object and uncovered a leather string with a wood carving: a perfectly detailed seahorse. He looked at it with his mouth open.

“It’s… it’s beautiful…”

“Then, you like it?”

“Like it? I love it!”

Kyra hugged her brother and shook him, happiness all over her face. It made Ikai’s heart leap with joy.

“Thank you very much, little sis,” he said, and hung it round his neck.

Ikai sighed. He worried about Kyra. Lately her overwhelming vitality was dwindling; the scarcity of food was reducing the flames of her spirit to embers, no matter how much she tried to hide it. Ikai was well aware that his sister was hungry, just as their mother was, just as the whole Senoca people were. Hunger, a slave people’s fate. Too few were the days when they had enough to eat; even fewer those when they went to sleep with something hot in their stomachs.

“There, you’re lost in the depths of the sea of thoughts again,” said Kyra, as she passed her hand in front of his contrasting eyes.

Ikai smiled and looked into her eyes.

“There’s something else I want to show you,” she said, weighing a dagger in her hand with an intriguing look.

“What’s that?”

Kyra took six careful steps away from the oak. She pointed with her left hand.

“See that knot?”

Ikai nodded. It was half way up the trunk, a lump the size of a small apple.

With a flash, Kyra reached behind her head with her right hand and threw the dagger. It stuck right in the center of the knot.

Ikai opened his eyes wide with shock. He himself would not have been able to hit the target at that distance, and he had been trained in the use of weapons since the age of twelve, when he had joined the Hunters.

“Awesome. I see you’ve been practicing what I taught you.”

“Whenever I can. I like you to show me how to fight, it makes me feel stronger, braver and safer.”

“You’re an amazing thrower, much better than I…”

“Unfortunately I’m no good with the sword,” she admitted. “We must train more.”

“When I come back, I promise.”

Kyra nodded, happy.

“But remember what I always tell you: what I teach you is for your own protection; don’t let anybody see that you know how to fight. It’s forbidden by the law of the Gods. If a Proxy discovers you you’ll be sent to the quarries, to forced labor.”

“They won’t discover me, those sons of a hyena rarely visit the fields. They prefer the city and the bigger villages where there’s some comfort.”

Ikai was not happy about his sister’s reply. The danger was very real. Very few men were allowed to carry weapons; they were only slaves. The Proxies under the command of the Regent Sesmok kept firm control. Carrying a weapon without permission was considered an offense against the Golden Gods, and any offense against the divinities was punished with death. The slaves could not be armed; the Gods made sure of that through their servants among men.

“Don’t be so trusting. If instead of a Proxy an Eye-of-the-God discovers you, he’ll kill you. And the Eyes-of-the-God, with their Executors, roam the six districts, controlling everything that happens, directly informing the gods.” Ikai shook his head. “You must be more careful about everything. I don’t know who puts those rebel ideas in your stubborn, crazy head, but you must learn to stay quiet or we’ll all end up dead. If you don’t want to do it for me, at least do it for Mother. She couldn’t bear to lose you, you know that. Not after Father.”

Kyra’s expression changed at the mention of their father. A shadow fell on her face, the light in her eyes went out and she bent her head. She was thoughtful for a moment. She sighed deeply, as if letting out all her wariness.

“All right, for Mother I’ll stay quiet, but that won’t change the way I feel.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

Ikai’s Ring vibrated again. His mind was filled by the white luminosity and an image was projected into his mind. His Hunting Party was calling; he had to leave.

“Go, don’t worry,” Kyra said. “I’ll take care of Mother and the farm.”

“I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

Kyra kissed his cheek in farewell.

“May the depth of Mother Sea guide your head, and her greatness be in your soul.”

“Thank you, little sis,” replied Ikai. “We are the Senoca; from Mother Sea we come and to Mother Sea we shall return.”

After giving their mother a farewell hug, Ikai traveled west for three days until he reached the Hill of Skies. From the top you could see a great part of the Sixth County He shaded his eyes with his hand and looked out over the landscape, which was something he always liked to do. Countless tilled fields extended among the tributaries of the great river. Most Senoca families lived off cereals and fruits and depended on the benevolence of the floods from the great river. They were a people of peasants, they lived and died by the grace of the harvests, at the mercy of the weather and the river.

Ikai shook his head.
We are the Senoca, the people of the Sea, condemned by the Gods to work the fields eternally. We, who once rode the waves proudly and sailed the oceans pushed by the wind, will never set eyes on our beloved Mother Sea again.