Rohvim #1: Metal and Flesh (10 page)

My brain.

That’s your brain?

Sorry, no. It’s my mind. They are different, you know. Those lights and strange shapes you see are a mental manifestation of physical things in my head, and these moving tapestries you see here behind these glass window-like screens are memories of mine. On these screens I can also cause to appear the source instructions, if you will, that make me work. All living things, rohva or otherwise, only work according to the source instructions given him by the Creator.
He nodded to a blank glass screen, which suddenly filled with a strange looking script Aeden had never seen before.
Look here. I don’t understand hardly any of it. No one does. And therefore I don’t dare meddle with it. Would it kill me? Change me? Turn me into a woman? Make me young again? I don’t know. One of our society gave into temptation, once. He altered part of it. He was … never the same again … are you even listening to me?

Aeden’s eyes had drifted over to another glass screen. He gazed, transfixed on the image.
Who is that?

The Healer followed his gaze
,
and smiled,
That is Betha. Several years ago I approached her as I did you—she being the daughter of a dear friend of mine. She is now a part of the society and lives in the northern city of Ramath …
you seem a bit distracted.

She’s … well … she’s hot! You’ve got people like this in the society? I thought they were all like you! I’m in.

Thank you for your … tact. Is this all it takes to get a seventeen-year-old male into the society? I would have brought her along on my recruiting trip—I could have returned home months ago.
He grinned even larger than before, his eyes twinkling, reflecting the shafts of sunlight. His appearance exuded joy and the boisterous energy of youth, but could not hide the great wisdom of his years. Aeden returned his eyes to the screen of the young woman moving within it.

Tell me about her.

She is eighteen, I believe. Short, kind, intelligent, and quite a cook. Father is a shop owner, but served in the royal guard. He is quite handy with a sword, mind you, so don’t get any naughty ideas.
He winked.
I’d be glad to …

“Master Healer!” A voice echoed tumultuously through the forest. Aeden’s eyes widened in alarm. The old man lost focus for a moment, and said,
We have company.

How long have we been here?

Oh, just half a minute I believe.

But, we’ve been here far longer than that! Ten minutes at least!

We can think much faster than we can speak, boy. Now let’s see what this gentleman wants.

The forest grew dim and blurry. The healer’s cluttered office came into focus around him, and he became aware again of the old man’s hand resting on his head. The master opened his eyes and said, “There you go my lad. That rash shouldn’t be bothering you anymore, do be more careful next time.” He winked again, and turning to face the newcomer said “And now, what can I do for you?”

By his armor it was plain the man belonged to the city guard. Chest heaving, he said, “Master. A large army has been sighted in the hills to the east, not twenty-five miles hence. They are marching straight towards us. The lord of the city requests your presence in the castle.”

“An army?” The healer got to his feet with a scowl on his face. “How? Where did they come from? I have heard nothing of any gathering armies in my travels!”

“I know not, master healer, and neither does the lord of the city. Please come with me.” The two men marched to the door and left the room, the healer calling back, “Aeden—go home.” Aeden sprang after them.

Chapter Six

“Take counsel together, for the storm draweth nigh, and is at the gates, the gales cometh, and assails the doors. Sorrow shall follow, and pain endure. But the Creator, who is good, shall overcome all sorrows, and shall subdue all enemies under his feet. For from the mountain he shall sweep down like the wind, and from the peak he will smite your oppressors. Sit now together and rejoice at His coming.” —The Lay of Galen Thunderspeak, 5:4-6

As Aeden dashed after the two men he could hear the master healer wheeze—clearly he was not used to running. The clomping of their boots upon the cobblestones echoed against from the walls as they wove back to the castle at the rear of the estate. They saw other noblemen rushing in through the gates towards the castle, and a steady stream of servants ran out of the castle, scattering out into the city to summon other nobles. They climbed the steps and passed the gate, marching straight back to the lord’s council chamber. The room looked as if a storm had hit it. Piles of parchments and scrolls littered the vast table, heaps of swords and other weapons and armor accumulated along the walls, large maps scattered about the room, and people rushed in and out. The lord sat at the head of the table with twenty noblemen, surrounded by about forty more standing who remained standing. All listened closely to the latest messenger. The three arrived just as the man was interrupted by the lord of the city.

“And they are definitely armed? This is verifiable an army?” the lord demanded loudly.

“Yes my lord. They march quickly, taking no rest, and are dressed in the garb of the north. Perhaps Volda, or one of the other northern kingdoms. And my lord,” the man lowered his voice, “the scouts estimated their number.”

“How many? Go on!” the lord shouted.

“Greater than twenty thousand, my lord,” the man stammered.

The lord stared at the man, his jaw clenched, and the group of noblemen fell into hushed, terrified, silence.

“
Twenty thousand?
Are you sure? Were they doubly or triply counted? Did you add the numbers correctly? Were the scouts drunk?” the lord questioned, badgering the poor messenger.

“I am sure, my lord. The scouts report that they look stern. There are both men and women among them, some have armor, others not, but all have swords, and look able and deadly. At the speed they travel, the scouts estimate their arrival in three hours time.” The table erupted in a tumult of talking and shouting. The lord held up his hand.

“Peace. We will prepare. We will meet this threat and deal with it.” He turned to the man at his side, the first duke, “Lord Elbery, begin preparations for the muster. I must speak with the master healer for a moment.” He turned from the table and motioned for the master healer to join him. Lord Elbery began giving orders to the rest of the nobles, and Aedan caught sight of his father sitting at the table. He threaded through the crowd and bent down to his father’s ear.

“Father!” he whispered.

The man turned, and glared at his son. “What are you doing here?”

“I was with the master healer when the news came, and followed him here. What is happening?”

“We don’t know where the army came from. The representative from the royal court has no knowledge of any rumors of war or contention with any neighboring kingdom. Before you arrived, the lord gave the order to gather weapons and armor from among the nobles and bring them here, in preparation for a potential muster, and now that order has been given as well. Lord Elbery is organizing the muster now.” He paused to listen to the man speaking at the head of the table.

“… and most of the city guard shall be positioned at the eastern city gates, which by now will have been shut and locked—for the first time in over one hundred years I should think. Our western city gates shall remain open until the arrival of the army to allow citizens to escape should they desire it, but will be closed at the first sight of the enemy. The first through the fifth dukes shall position their forces behind the eastern city gate and reinforce the guard there. The sixth through tenth dukes shall gather their men here, and defend the castle should the army penetrate our defenses. The eleventh through twentieth dukes shall scatter their forces throughout the city, concentrating more in the eastern quarter, hiding in alleyways, behind doorways, behind buildings, and ambush the enemy in the streets should they perchance make it that far. Go now. Assemble your men, equip them from your armories and from among the gathered arms here if your stores are not sufficient, and assume your posts in two hour’s time.”

The men stood up and rushed for the exit. Aeden ran after his father, looking back to see the master healer still in deep discussion with the lord of the city. He caught up to Lord Rossam, matching his long stride and asked, “What do we do?”

“We do as the lord commanded. I’ll send the servants to summon the rest of our people immediately, and equip them at the house. I will meet them as they arrive and give them orders. I want you to go to the armory and make sure all is in order. We will need thirty-four sets of armor and as many swords. I believe we have enough swords, though some of the men may need to go without armor until they arrive at the castle to defend it. Bring the gear out of the armory and place it in the front gallery of the house so the men may prepare themselves with all speed. Run home now, I have business with Lord Markham. If you see the steward before I do, give him the muster order.” The man parted ways with his son, and ran down the street towards the southern edge of the city. Aeden continued his brisk pace until he arrived at his street. Priam came running to him from the direction of the Rossam estate.

“Aeden!” the boy breathlessly shouted, “Have you heard?”

“Yes. The lord has put out the order for a muster. All the lords are gathering their men and we will defend the city.” Aeden continued walking towards the house.

“My parents just returned. They saw the army up in the eastern mountains and fled before them here. Aeden, the army is massive. The city will fall.” Priam trotted alongside his friend who strode purposefully toward the house.

“We will try to stop them anyway. And if we fail …” Aeden strode through the front gate, “then we’ll kill as many of them as we can before they take us.”

“Aeden, there’s something else. My parents hid when the army passed them by and saw them up close. They thought they looked rather strange. Stone-faced, is the term they used, which I thought curious …”

Aeden, remembering his conversation with priest Anthony, murmured to himself, “Lord Shagoth.…”

“What?” Priam looked at his friend in confusion. “Who is that? Does the lord of the city know who sent the army?”

“No, he doesn’t. I mean Lord Shagoth from the Chronicles. You know, the story of the evil lord who could control the minds of men, and gathered a massive army to make war on all the kingdoms of the earth? He nearly won control of the entire known world too, had it not been for the intervention of the Creator at the request of Galen Thunderspeak. Galen saw the Creator himself at the top of a mountain and begged him for deliverance. He spent several weeks with the Creator, who taught him all he needed to know to stop Shagoth. Galen descended the mountain, and as the army approached, he stretched forth his hand and spoke words of power, and the entire army lay down at his feet, overcome with the power of the Creator. He walked up to Shagoth, and at the word of Galen, the Creator struck him down with lightning from the heavens. Do you not read the Chronicles?”

“Not a whole lot, but I remember the story now, though I didn’t know all the details. Why do you bring it up?” The boys entered the house, and Aeden looked for the steward.

“Because in the account from the Chronicles, the army of the Lord Shagoth had
faces as of stone, countenances of rock. Feeling they had not wants, nor passion, but lust for blood only, and mindless destruction.
” He quoted from the Chronicles. “You reminded me of them when you told me your parents description. Stone-faced, you said.”

Priam’s eyes grew wide. “Do you think Shagoth has returned with his army?”

Aeden shook his head, “No, of course not. He was killed, and his army freed. But I wonder if the armies are related somehow.” He saw the steward, who was busily preparing several scrolls. He looked up.

“Master Rossam, good. I heard rumors, and then I heard the horn calls for the muster, so I began writing orders on these scrolls for the servants to deliver to the men.”

“Excellent, steward, well done. Are they completed?” Aeden approached the man.

The man furiously scribbled on a scroll. “Almost, Master Rossam. If you will summon the servants, I will finish these and we can send them off. Is your father coming?”

“Yes, though he is delayed. The men are to assemble here, and our orders are to defend the castle.” Aeden replied sternly.

“Good, I wrote for the men to assemble here, and that further orders would be given when they arrive.” The steward began on another scroll.

Aeden nodded, “Very well. I will assemble the servants.” Priam followed his friend who marched out the door, and they began searching the estate for whatever servants could be found. Lady Rossam intercepted Aeden as he walked out the door to the rear courtyard.