Fifthwind (40 page)

Ben
jolted upright from his sleep, clawing for his sword, cold sweat
glistening on his brow. He tried to cry out, but nothing save a rush
of air escaped his lips. His eyes darted from side to side in search
of Kyla, but his vision only found Cobalius sitting next to the fire
and preparing the morning tea.

"That
is the fourth night you've jumped awake like that," said Cobalius.

"I
fear something terrible has happened to Kyla and that the others will
die if I do not return soon."

"I
looked in on the situation in Kishell Springs only a moment ago. It
has been difficult for them, but your friends are doing quite well,
and Kyla is fine." Ben obviously was showing doubt, and Cobalius
flatly added, "You will just have to trust me on that."

Their
hillside camp was sheltered from the wind, but the night had been
cold. Cobalius had kept a fire burning throughout the night,
otherwise it would have been impossible to sleep. They shared a light
breakfast and filled their bellies with hot tea, then gathered their
things and broke camp. They were already high on the slopes of the
Stonespine, and it appeared that they would be climbing still higher.

Ben
was in no mood to speak as the two men quietly left Eskerwold days
behind and a world away. In addition to feeling that he was letting
his friends down, he couldn't shake the feeling that he had somehow
failed the young soldier who had been killed. Cobalius was right, the
color of a man's uniform no longer mattered to him. The banner under
which a man marched was not an indication of his worth. The world was
changing, and him with it. He was committed to seeing the hate come
to an end. He didn't know where Cobalius would lead him next, and he
didn't care. His thoughts drifted back to Kyla as he put one foot in
front of the other along the rocky path.

For
five days, they made their way along narrow paths under the shadow of
the Stonespine. Ben spoke little and kept his thoughts to himself. In
the quiet solitude of the mountain, he now saw how a man could leave
behind his attachments and step into a space between loyalties. Other
than his closest friends, he already felt detached from the
allegiances he once held dear. Yet again, Cobalius had been right. He
was beginning to think he just might be able to rise above the toils
of his past, and accept the mantle of the Fahd. Except for his
feelings for Kyla.

The
day was cold, but the sun warmed the stones around him and made the
frigid air tolerable. Cobalius set a steady pace and didn't bother to
interrupt Ben's thoughts as they trudged forward day after day. Ben
knew that Cobalius had the means to bring him instantly to the
destination they sought, but also knew that the time spent thinking
of what he had seen and experienced was part of the his mentor's
plan. The trek was meant to be a time of reflection.

Ben
was forever changed. He tried to justify those changes as something
that was necessary to satisfy his own compulsions; that he was only
playing along to get the skills he required to protect his friends.
But, in the end, he couldn't deny that he was growing beyond his own
needs and beginning to shun the burden of worldly cares.

He
saw Cobalius stop and take a seat up ahead and worked his tired legs
up the path to join him. The trail leveled onto a flat terrace
containing the ruins of a crumbled structure. Low walls of ancient
stone that no longer supported a roof, and smooth flooring, once
ornate and polished, now exposed to the weather and harsh sun. Even
after centuries, the craftsmanship of the stonework was as good as
anything he had seen in the King's court. It must have been an
impressive structure at one time.

Cobalius
sat on one of the crumbled walls and looked out over the low valleys
to the north. The frosty green of the lowlands ran as far as the
horizon, and was split into patchwork parcels by dozens of rivers
that snaked from lake to lake. Tufts of forest dotted the land,
blending the rolling hills with the shallow valleys. Cobalius sighed
deeply, "This is the most amazing view. I never get tired of coming
here."

"What
is this place?" Ben asked, admiring the scene.

Cobalius
stood and walked among the ruins. "These were the council
chambers," he said, standing in a large circle of smooth ornate
flooring with his arms stretched wide as if still seeing the
structure as it once stood. "Over there was the temple and to my
left were sleeping quarters. This is a very special place to the
Fahd. It was our home."

Cobalius
showed a rare bit of emotion on his face as he spoke. "Centuries
ago, before the memories of men, this sanctuary stood esteemed on
this mountainside, watchful over that view below."

"What
happened to it? Why was it not preserved?"

"The
Fahd have always had powerful enemies, those who have hunted us and
sought our destruction. Our sacred places were once many, but each
was ravaged and destroyed by those who oppose us. We were pushed into
hiding and forced to rebuild our sanctuaries in more and more remote
locations, but alas those too were destroyed by our enemies. This was
the last retreat of The Eleven and it too was eventually brought to
ruin by The Core. At the height of their power during the days of
StoneWall, they came here in numbers and took it down forcibly."

"So
the Fahd gave up and quit rebuilding?"

Cobalius
held his chin high. "The Fahd would never give in to defeat, so in
complete secrecy, they managed to rebuild it in a place where it
could not be defaced ever again. It will stand forever, untouched by
the hands of hate."

Cobalius
paused as if remembering a forgotten love. "Even then, with all
their efforts, the Temple was stolen from them. After the Breaking of
the Soul, our last refuge was lost even to us for over a thousand
years. Until now."

Ben
asked, "Where was it relocated?"

Cobalius
smiled. "Have you learned nothing? Open your eyes to the splendor
of Arlemon, home to the Fahd."

Ben
instantly understood the irony of Cobalius' comment and closed his
eyes. The color of the mountainside subdued to a cold lifeless
shadow, but what he saw was breathtaking.

One
by one, the missing stones of the structure were revealed. Cracked
walls and weathered surfaces were renewed to their former splendor.
Slowly, Ben watched in awe as the Temple revealed itself in all its
glory. From the ground up, Ben witnessed a reconstruction of the
entire compound.

"It
was rebuilt in the Witherscape," Ben marveled.

Smooth
white columns of stone flanked either side of the path where they had
entered, opening into a lush courtyard of flowers and shrubs and
ornate fountains that still flowed with water in the timeless
Witherscape. The main sanctuary itself was a testament of expert
craftsmanship, featuring a central, open-air rotunda that covered a
semicircle of masterfully crafted, life-sized statues.

A
simple doorway on one side of the rotunda led to what Cobalius had
said was the Temple, while another set of doors on the other side
apparently led to sleeping quarters. To the rear of the rotunda,
stood a massive set of doors that would undoubtedly open in on the
council chambers. From the look of the large edifice, that chamber
would be most impressive.

Every
wall was corniced, and every doorway was chamfered. Every surface was
a brilliantly bleached whitestone, and not a single block was
dry-jointed. Smooth mortar plastered the already smooth walls and
offered purchase for flowering vines of ivy. Even with the lack of
color, Ben basked in the radiance of the most magnificent place he'd
ever seen.

He
eventually found his voice, "It's beautiful."

Cobalius
stepped into the rotunda and motioned for Ben to follow. There was an
innate holiness to the place and Ben took very slow and deliberate
steps, so as to not disturb the sanctity of his surroundings. Under
the majestic dome, eleven silent figures flanked the doorways. The
polished marble statues stood as dignified nobles in permanent grace.
The base of each statue bore a name carved in bold relief.

Ektos,
Arineptus, Karthos, Malbucon, Cobalius, Senithar, Madros, Tiberian,
Keppra, Morbis, Sarniac...

When
Ben came to the statue named Cobalius, he noticed that the figure did
not resemble his companion. Nor did the statue Morbis, which bore the
name intended for him, resemble him in any way. He also noticed that
most of the statues possessed objects which hung from their hands, or
were laid at their feet. Except for the last four which had received
no offerings.

"The
Eleven." Cobalius said softly, "The original Fahd. We each keep
their memory alive by taking on one of their names as our own. The
objects they hold are the lives we left behind when we accepted the
burden of the Covenant."

Ben
looked again at the statue of Cobalius, and saw a small chain with a
rose pendant of gold hanging from its stony hand. He looked again at
Cobalius who kept his eyes lowered. Ben said, "It was your
daughter's."

"Yes,"
Cobalius said. "As a symbol of our devotion, we each leave behind
that which was most dear to us. It is the past we left behind when we
accepted the title of Fahd."

"It's
very pretty," Ben said reaching for the pendant, "she must have
loved it."

Cobalius
grasped Ben's wrist tightly and jerked his hand away. "As long as
I'm still breathing, no hand other than my own will touch it."

Ben
pulled back his hand and rubbed at his wrist. "I'm sorry."

"Once
a Fahd passes, either by age or at the hands of an enemy, the item is
removed and forever enshrined inside the temple, leaving the statue
bare and signifying it as the next Fahd to be located. It is a long
and sacred tradition. There will someday be another Fahd Cobalius
after I am gone. Perhaps you yourself will be the one to locate him.
Fahd Morbis stands waiting your decision and your offering, but there
is still much you must come to understand before you'll be faced with
that decision. Now please, come with me."

Cobalius
led Ben to the entrance of the council chamber. The massive stone
doors should have taken an army of men to move, but Cobalius swung
the perfectly balanced block inward with a simple push of his hand.

The
chamber inside was roughly circular, composed of at least twenty
adjoining walls. Each facet housed a small recess displaying a
scroll. Cobalius waved a sweeping hand across the many parchments.
"The Covenant. The laws we live by."

High
columns held a richly painted dome overhead, and at the base of each
column was a simple bench that faced the center of the chamber.
There, only a large copper brazier stood, which burned a brilliant
white fire. A fire that Ben was sure had burned uninterrupted for a
thousand years in the Witherscape.

Cobalius
moved to the first of the many parchments. The delicate scroll was
rolled out vertically and hanging in the masonry framed recess. The
polished, wooden scroll rods were capped with intricately carved
ivory or bone. Velvet tie-backs dangled from either end, and the
pull-down consisted of a coin hanging from a chain, both probably
gold, though he could not tell in the colorless Witherscape. These
were prized writings indeed to receive such lavish treatments.

Cobalius
said, "The first five scrolls are our principle edicts, the other
writings speak of the more specific governances."

Ben
read aloud the first edict, "The Fahd offer allegiance to no King
or country."

Cobalius
echoed a soft mantra, "For our power is too great to bend to the
whims of ambitious men."

There
was more written under the edict itself, a full elucidation of the
meaning and intent of the words. These were not the pretty
catch-phrases of a mindless band of minions, but the hardened laws of
a committed sodality. A sacred brotherhood.

Ben
moved along the wall to the next scroll and read the second edict,
"Predilection is a poison that infects justice."

And
Cobalius echoed, "We must separate ourselves from those that
corrupt our judgment and cloud our vision."

Ben
moved slowly to the next facet and looked at the scroll housed there.
He read, "The Fahd cannot be bound by commandment or coin."

Cobalius
answered bluntly, "We exist outside the laws of men and cannot be
bought."

The
two men continued down the line to the next scroll. "The burden of
our judgments is rendered weightless by virtuous conviction."

"We
are judge, jury and executioner. Our decisions are final and fulfill
the needs of a greater good." Cobalius turned to address Ben
directly. "This one requires an unwavering faith in the justness of
our beliefs. Remove bias and alliances from your heart, and the
decisions of the Fahd become perfectly chaste, immune to question or
doubt."

Ben
looked at the final scroll of the five Cobalius had pointed out as
the primary edicts. "Nurture and revere the whole self. Excellence
is the path."

"You
must feed the spirit, body and mind. In short, the Fahd must always
strive to be better, stronger and smarter. We must remain above
reproach in all areas if we are to acquire and hold the trust of
those we encounter. The people of this land will accept our judgments
only if they can see that we hold ourselves to a higher standard of
conduct."

Ben
continued to move along the circle walkway and examine the other
scrolls that adorned the walls at every facet. It would take weeks if
not longer to read them all; perhaps a lifetime to truly understand
the depth of their meanings. Hanging from the walls was more than a
set of rules and the history that had formed them. What he looked
upon were the pillars of a religion. A core set of principles that
governed The Fahd.