The Book of Ominiue: Starborn (12 page)

The Dídrand, Shayne, Kíe and Pan’arden spent the next hour touring the castle. Statues and paintings adorned the walls of the passageways, each bearing the memory of a historic figure or ruler. In some places shields and swords decorated the walls, while on others hung tapestries and banners.

They eventually came to an obscure hallway, no different from any other side passage except that two royal guards barred the doorway at the end. ‘Keemaíth is not like other cities in Bohaníde. It once was shared with the Darusite Afradians. This city was their largest dwelling in Fa’Orian territory. You can see their influences in our architecture.’ They came to the guarded door and the sentries bowed as they stood to the side, allowing them access. The door had engravings of gilded creatures: angels, dragons and flying lions; locked in a dance above the clouds.

The Dídrand took out a key; his bird looked at it with interest and watched him unlock the door and push it open, an expression of pride on his face. ‘Many of the House of Darus lived in Bohaníde; we share the national symbol of the Flying Lion.’ Inside the darkened room was a store of treasures. Draped on the far wall was a grand old tapestry, but instead of a red fire-lion of Bohaníde, it was simply a blue winged-lion, the material was old and faded but its beauty remained, with high quality material and silver threading.

‘This is my private collection,’ the Dídrand said as he lit lamps in the room, flooding the items in an orange glow as well as the light from the opened door, ‘given to my ancestors by the Darus High Lord himself. There are other artefacts in the Keema Library and in Taríth, but the most treasured items from this city are stored here.’ Shayne walked in and was instantly amazed. There seemed to be everything in that little room: armour, weapons, swords, clothing, jewellery, paintings, books, and everyday objects. The quality of these items far exceeded the finery that was displayed in the main hall of the Dídrand. The room was overflowing with so many items that most of it was heaped up wherever they could be safely placed, leaving only the centre of the room clear.

Kíe and Pan’arden stepped carefully into the room, moving amongst the items: looking without touching, while Shayne made his way to the far corner where a complete set of armour was displayed on a black mannequin. He was instantly intrigued by the detail of the workmanship. The Bohaníde warriors wore fine looking armour; the design was simple as were the leadership symbols carved into the metal, but it was effective. Lionmen were masters at obtaining maximum effect with the simplest design, they were far more sensible than humans were. What Shayne saw here was the complete opposite from what a lionman would create. The patterns were inspired; the decoration looked more ceremonial than practical, but the dints and marks showed that it was once used in combat. The detail and engravings in the suit of armour must have taken countless hours to create; the most notable engraving being the winged lion on the breastplate and the top shoulder guards. The lion crest was different from the banners, designed for a family or individual; like a knight’s coat-of-arms of old. The armour itself was well crafted with far greater attention to detail; the blacksmith must have been highly respected.

The helmet that rested on the black faceless mannequin was just as wondrous to look at. It covered the head with two side guards for the jaw and a bronze band that went around the eyes and covered the nose. A silver piece of metal with a star engraved into it was placed on the brow; it looked like a small crown or a decorative piece for a leading officer. The helm was finished with a bronze crest, that was placed in typical Greek or Roman style except it did not contain any plume, just a straight band of engraved metal running along its length.

Two swords and a long elongated shield accompanied the armour, resting at the feet it reached up to the belt and the swords were mounted on either side. The shield had the emblem of the winged lion but it differed from the banner. Instead of having the entire body of the lion it simply had the animal’s head in the centre with the wings half folded on either side; shaped around the shield. The background was blue, with some of the patterns in the lion’s wings a darker shade. The rest of the lion was overlaid with bronze. The image was simple but effective. Just like the armour you could see it was once used in battle with many blade marks upon it and the bronze work dented and worn.

The Dídrand came to Shayne’s side; he looked down at the Starborn with pride. The armour looked large enough to fit an Earthman, though it was too big for Shayne. ‘Mesmerising, is it not?’ the lionman said. Shayne nodded as he inspected it. The colours had faded over the years, the bronze and silver needed polishing, but it still held something powerful. ‘Nobody has been able to smelt or craft as the Afradians were able to,’ he said with a sigh. ‘Just look at the chainmail.’ The Dídrand reached out and took the arm of the undergarment in his hand; it made a nice metallic noise as each ringlet made contact with another. Shayne took his gloves out of a pocket and put them on. He lifted the arm from the lionman Duke; it was surprisingly light, there was some weight but it did not feel like steel. He stood closer to have a better look and saw that the ringlets were connected by three layers, carefully interwoven into each other and they were very small, much smaller than you could expect a civilisation to create without the aid of machinery.

‘How did they get the rings so small?’ Shayne asked, amazed at the workmanship. The lionman shrugged.

‘No one knows. The Afradians taught us their methods, but it seemed that nothing we created could match them. Their eyes were said to be as sharp as an eagles and their hand as steady as a rock.’ Shayne looked carefully at the chainmail his curiosity burning as it never had before. Beforehand he was interested in the Afradians simply from a historic point of view; doubting if they ever existed. They appeared to perform seemingly impossible deeds, and their description was more like gods rather than men, but here he stood with products of their ingenuity and he knew that no mere primitive lionman or human civilisation could have created something like this.

Shayne began to suspect that if the Afradians were real then they must have had some level of technology greater than the rest of the world. He began to think of them as more than just a “superior” race that died out. It was possible that they could have been the original space travellers that the Earthmen theorised once populated the universe, guiding evolution to their own design. It was possible that here the original ancestors held onto that knowledge the longest, able to replicate to some degree more advanced technology; remembering mathematics and physics that was useful to a primitive lifestyle; slowly forgetting the past but remembering the science.

The Afradians could have been a human variant species, they were taller than the native humans they encountered in the city; the armour before him told him that. Shayne was not sure why there would be a discrepancy in height, unless they were alien, but then again they may have lived healthy lives, even with genetic variation height could be affected by social circumstances. They found that almost all medieval to prehistoric human worlds had shorter average heights, so why then were these Afradians so tall? Was it that they were an exotic species of humans, who were either too proud to mix with the inferior humans or maybe they were not able to? Shayne felt the awakening of curiosity with him.

‘This here,’ the Dídrand took a sword from the side stand, ‘is an
Ádinite
sword.’ The blade resisted his pull from lack of use, but with a bit of effort it gave way with a click. The sound of steel filled the room as it was drawn. The parrot lost balance as the duke stretched his arm out with the sword; it protested before settling back down, its eyes fixed on the gleaming blade. The Dídrand handed the katana-styled sword to Shayne. Kíe was suddenly at his side; his eyes gleamed as he too admired it. Shayne lifted the blade. The weapon had a slight curve, including the handle, which was designed to be wielded with two hands but its light weight allowed it to be handled as a one-handed weapon. Shayne reached out with one
hand and held it before him, it had perfect balance, pivoting perfectly as he twisted it around. The blade shined brightly in the dim light as he twisted it and drew his arm back in. He examined the metal more closely, he could clearly see the detail of the forge line and the symbols running down one side as he moved it in the light from the doorway.

‘The House of
Ádin
were the greatest swordsmiths, their blades were legendary. Made only for the
Great Ones
and themselves, and just like their entire kin, their forging secrets were lost; the very last one forged was for a Dragonrider many generations ago.’ Shayne put the sword back into the scabbard and handed it back to the Dídrand. Kíe looked longingly upon it but the Dídrand did not pass it to him.

‘Who owned this sword?’ Shayne asked as the lionman duke carefully put it back in its place.

‘Arnos son of
Ámos
was the owner of this blade. He was the last leader of the Darusite Afradians.’

‘What happened to him?’ Shayne asked, gazing upon the armour. The Dídrand looked at Kíe for a moment wondering about the Earthman’s knowledge of Dífran history.

Kíe responded, ‘He was one of the many Afradians who accompanied Anótole. He rode a great silver Karamara Dragon into the final battle.’

‘If the sword is so special why did he not take it with him?’ The Starborn’s question caused Kíe to falter: he too was interested in why. Shayne then added as he swung his arm around the room, ‘Why didn’t he take any of this?’

The Dídrand half laughed in amusement. ‘I was told that this was his old set of armour. He was an Afradian Lord after all. He probably had many sets.’ He then looked down at Shayne with absolute seriousness. ‘The sword he left with great regret. But he knew that many of the Afradians were leaving; probably never to return again. The scrolls of my forefathers say that he wanted the sword left behind for the next DragonLord. He said that no DragonLord should ever go to battle without an
Ádin-Sundual
Sword.’

Shayne looked upon the blade, marvelling at the legends. ‘When did Anótole leave with the Dragons, how many years ago?’

‘Almost two thousand years Afra’hama,’ Kíe said as a feeling of sadness came over him. The Dídrand then told them they should probably return to the hall before the evening meal was served. Kíe walked back in silence, not his usual cheerful self. Shayne saw his sorrow, his expression tired as he grieved for an idea and hope now lost.

Shayne had Kíe sit beside him at the Dídrand’s table. More people were in the hall now as the castle came together to eat. Unlike the small village they first visited this hall had tables and chairs with places made for humans to feast as well as lionmen; the Earthmen were at one of the two human places; they were seated at the head of the table as honoured guests. Hanniver looked bored sitting next to a high ranking human. His Tasmanian tiger lay behind him on the floor; ignoring the strangers and the creatures they brought with them, including two excitable hounds that from time-to-time sniffed at her when she was not looking.

There were a few animals in the hall now but they were no louder than their lionmen and human masters. There were two birds other than the Dídrand’s parrot resting upon their owners’ shoulders, including an owl which was quietly perched on a grim and thoughtful looking human. There were also hounds, wolves and cats of various kinds and some creatures that did not look remotely recognisable and some that looked rather frightening. None of the animals seemed the least bit interested in the other creatures; they cared only for their owners and kept closely to them. When they returned from their tour Pan’arden’s tiger was lying in a corner waiting, when Pan’arden came back Thyman was instantly by her side, where she affectionately head-butted her as they made their way to their seats. Once seated at the table the tiger sat by her side; between her and the Dídrand. Shayne was fascinated by the ease that everyone had with their pets and the unconscious acceptance they had made him wonder. At least a quarter of the animals looked like wild creatures such as Pan’arden’s tiger. As he watched the animals he noticed that they all seemed very alert and intelligent. He wondered if it was possible for them to understand what was going on around them. Shayne turned to Kíe with the intention of discussing the topic, but the young lionman still seemed distracted.

‘What is wrong?’ he asked him.

‘Nothing,’ Kíe gave an unconvincing smile that fell back into a longing sadness. Shayne continued to stare at him; causing the scholar to fidget.