The Callindra Chronicles Book One - First Quest (32 page)

“
I’m pretty sure I saw you
practically breaking yourself in half to lift a huge wave of mud to
squish a few bugs Vil.”  Said Cronos, “How did that work out
for you?”

“
I was the first one to
recover in spite of Tryst visiting me last.”  Callindra said,
chuckling.  “I think maybe you two boys could learn a lesson
or two from me.”

“
Actually, it’s because we
thought you had died.”  Vilhylm said, all traces of levity
vanishing from his face.  “You didn’t see what happened as a
result of your attack.”

“
It was as though beneath
its skin there was nothing but those insect things.”  Said
Cronos, “They covered you, even though a small cyclone of wind
seemed to form briefly around you, holding them off.  That was
impressive by the way.”

“
I don’t remember much past
hacking the damn thing off at the knees.”  Callindra admitted,
taking a swig of mead to hide her embarrassment and pleasure at her
friends concern.

“
It was a foolish, reckless,
stupid move Callindra.”  Tryst said as he walked through the
door.  “But it likely saved us all.  If you hadn’t
stopped that thing… it was about to infect the Grandfather Tree
with its disease and maybe kill Jorda as well.”

“
Don’t be silly Tryst.”
 Said Callindra, “Gods can’t be killed.”

At that point, the door opened and a swarm of
Elven attendants descended on them.  Some took their armor and
attempted to take their weapons as well, but Callindra wasn’t
relinquishing Brightfang for anyone.  The rest of them took
the boys off into one bathing chamber and her into another.
 

“
Miss, you really should
leave your sword outside, it’ll rust.”  One of the attendants
said, frowning at Brightfang.

“
Oh, don’t worry about
that.”  Callindra said, “I oil him daily.  He won’t rust
while I draw breath and I won’t let him out of reach if I can help
it.”

The elves looked at her skeptically, but made
no further comment.  When she walked into the bathing chamber
she began to see what they had worried about.  Instead of
submerging themselves in a full bath, it seemed they drank copious
amounts of water and then sat in a room with magically heated
stones in the center.  Once the room was sufficiently hot, one
of them began pouring water over the stones, releasing clouds of
steam.

Sweat sprang from every pore and soon
Callindra found herself getting lightheaded and feeling a bit
dizzy.  Following the lead of the other women around her, she
took a small cedar bough in her hand and dipped it in a bucket of
cold water before slapping herself on the back with it.  The
chill of the water and the sting of the branch kept her alert and
actually felt quite good, relaxing muscles and releasing tension
she had been hanging on to since the battle.

Once a good sweat had covered her, she took a
curved piece of bone and used it to scrape her skin.  A
surprising amount of dirt showed on the white surface of the bone.
 When one of the Elves noticed her shock, she smiled
knowingly.

“
The sweat forces out what
is in the pores of your skin, making you cleaner than any amount of
scrubbing could.”  She said, “Then the plunge afterword will
truly cleanse you.”

“
I didn’t expect anything
like this.”  Callindra admitted, drinking from a gourd filled
with pure rain water.  “It seems like I will be exhausted from
all this sweating though.”

“
Come, allow me to oil your
hair.”  The other woman replied, “With proper care your
tresses could shine like mahogany.  Most of us are fair of
skin and hair, yours is quite exotic.”

Callindra laughed in spite of herself,
“Exotic is just another word for freak in the human world, and my
hair is the least of the qualities I value.”

Finally clean and dried; the bath having
ended in a shocking plunge into a pool of ice cold water, Callindra
donned her freshly laundered clothes and polished armor.
 After taking time to unwrap Brightfang’s hilt, polish all of
his metal parts, oil the leather wrapping of his hilt and re-wrap
it tightly, she felt like her ablutions were complete.  If she
had to meet a Goddess, she was as ready as she was likely to
be.

Her friends all had similar uncertain
expressions on their faces as they emerged from the male side of
the bathing chamber.  Even so, with their familiar gear on
their shoulders squared and their backs straightened.
 Whatever they were about to experience, they would do it at
their best.

“
I can’t tell you how much
it means to me that you all continue to fight beside me.”
 Callindra said, looking at her companions.  “My brothers
in arms… you are better brothers than any sister has a right
to.”

Tryst laughed a clear bass laugh that came
from deep in his chest, “Oh Callindra, you undervalue yourself at
every turn.  You aren’t some accessory to us, you’re the
heroine!  It was your action that defeated the monster and led
us to victory.  Speaking for myself, I am honored to fight
alongside you.”

“
The honor is indeed ours.”
 Vilhylm said, the midnight of his cloak a direct contrast to
the pristine white and sliver of Tryst’s attire.

“
You … you fight good.”
 Cronos mumbled, “Don’t leave or things might get
boring.”

“
The Goddess Jorda awaits
you.”  A voice ahead intoned formally, “She wishes to express
her gratitude for the actions you took to defend her realm.
 Please, approach that you may be announced.”

Callindra strode forward, linking arms with
Tryst.  She wanted him by her side if she was facing some sort
of formal introduction.  Reaching back to touch Brightfang’s
hilt for reassurance she stepped into the largest room she had ever
seen.  It would have swallowed the entire Cathedral in Arkasia
and still left room on all sides.  In the center a figure was
sitting on a simple wooden chair surrounded by twining vines,
butterflies and small animals of every description.

“
Callindra Sol’Estin,
Apprentice of the North Wind Style, Bearer of Brightfang, Wind
Warrior and Bladespeaker.”  A voice intoned as she passed the
threshold.

“
Tryst Te’Chern, Priest of
the Ancient One, Wielder of the Scared Waters and Guardian of the
Healing Light.”

“
Vilhylm Greldiachanin,
Master of Masks, Follower of the Carnival of Tricksters and Heir of
the Great Caravan.”

“
Cronos Torrantrach,
Inheritor of the Eternal Flame, Student of the Master of Fire and
Vessel of Vengeance.”

Callindra looked at her friends, the
questions on her face mirroring theirs.  Before any of them
could make comment, another voice cut through the room.

“
Welcome Champions, to my
dining hall.”  Jorda’s words were filled with inherent power,
but it was the slow and certain strength of growing, living things.
 “The evil that you vanquished would have arrived here
eventually regardless of what you might have done, but your swift
and decisive actions have led us to victory.”

The Goddess turned and gestured toward long
tables laden with food and drink, “Please join us in
celebration.”

To Callindra’s horror, she could clearly see
a blackened scar that cut from just behind Jorda’s right eye and
disappeared into the simple white tunic she wore.  It puckered
the growing green color of her skin with a line of what looked like
diseased tree bark.  It seemed Gods could be wounded after
all.

“
Are you all right?”
 Callindra blurted without thinking,

“
Dear child, thank you for
your concern.”  Jorda said with a beautiful smile, “I greet
you and your companions.  Tonight you may ask any boon of me.
 You have fought off those who would have destroyed my realm
and I owe you a debt of gratitude.”

“
Give me the strength to
dominate my enemies.”  Cronos said without hesitation, almost
as though he had been anticipating this.

“
This obviously hasn’t been
a problem for you youngster.”  Said Jorda, “However I think I
can assist you in protecting yourself.” She handed him a small
token carved of wood with a smile. “Wear it and call upon me during
battle.”

“
I have been sent on a holy
quest to find the wisdom to contact Gode The Elder.”  Tryst
said, “Please can you tell me how I can speak with him?”

“
I have information that you
will find valuable young Priest.”  The Goddess said, “However,
I have insight that will guide you also.  If you will accept
my guidance that is.”

“
Of course I will accept
your guidance Great Lady.”  He said, bowing low.

“
You aren’t even going to
ask your Ancient One first?”  Jorda asked, amusement tinging
her words.  “Very well then, look into my eyes young priest.”
 

Tryst looked into her face, his eyes
uncertain.  His mouth had a firm set to it though.  “I
will accept his judgement if he deems my actions to be improper.”
 He said.

“
Ah, we need more like you.”
 Jorda said with a merry laugh, “Your irreverence is good for
us.”  A flash of green gold fire flashed between their
eyes.

“
All I wish is to be able to
redeem myself.”  Vilhylm said when Jorda turned to him. His
voice was almost too soft for Callindra to hear.

“
You have already done so,
even if you refuse to acknowledge it.”  Jorda replied, almost
as softly, “I cannot give you forgiveness for those who died, but I
can give you the strength to fight for the living.”

“
I no longer wish to fight.”
 He said, his eyes downcast.

“
But we need warriors.”
 Jorda insisted, putting a finger under his chin and raising
his face to look into hers.  “You have seen things far beyond
what most mortals have, but there is more strength in you than
know.  I will give you something that you can use to help your
friends, or create a powerful weapon to strike at the heart of
evil.”

She drew a small, very sharp knife from a
sheath at her belt and bent gracefully, cutting into the bark like
skin of her thigh.   Carefully, she cut a square of it
away and pried off a perfect piece of wood.  She placed it in
Vilhylm’s trembling hands and placed a kiss on his forehead.
 The wound closed swiftly, new bark beginning to grow over it,
but her leg still oozed fluid that looked more like sap than
blood.

“
Please just bless me and my
friends.”  Said Callindra, looking Jorda in her eyes, “We
brought the evil here, it was only natural we would assist in
eradicating it.”

“
Your humility is a credit
to your nature Callindra.”  Jorda said, “However I think you
would do well to address the other parts of yourself.  Being a
warrior does not mean you aren’t a woman.  In spite of what
the folk you have grown up around may have caused you to believe,
being a woman does not indicate weakness.”

“
What the hell is that
supposed to mean?”  Callindra demanded, forgetting
herself.

“
It means that if you can’t
accept who you are and insist on acting recklessly in order to
prove your worth you are probably going to get hurt a lot and
probably die.”  Jorda said, “I will give you something to
perhaps keep you alive until you manage to learn to value yourself
as your companions do.”  

She reached out a hand and plucked a strand
of her own hair from her head and wove it deftly into a small
tiara.  It started to sprout tiny Brightstar flowers that
perfumed the air with their delicate scent.  Before Callindra
could back away Jorda placed it on her head and the vine grew into
her hair.  Not wanting to insult the Goddess, she left it
there even though it made her feel like a fool.

“
I know you are here to ask
a question of me and I have no satisfactory answer for you.”
 Jorda said, her voice grave.  “All I have is yet another
quest, if you’re up to it.”

“
You mean you don’t know why
Gode isn’t responding to the prayers of his priests?” Tryst said,
staring at her in disbelief.

“
My father has… faded from
our sight.”  Jorda said, sounding tired.  “His influence
over the world is waning and the forces that bind his brother are
weakening.  I think you may all have felt the influence of
that in this world.”

“
You mean the green… glowing
things?”  Callindra asked, “The things we’ve been calling
Abyssal Spawn?”

“
Yes.  Those are the
servants of Gode’s brother Onde, the ancient God of Destruction.”
 Jorda confirmed, “They are not of this world.  Their
goal is to destroy this world and everything in it.  If they
aren’t stopped they will achieve their goal.  This world needs
defenders, and if those defenders aren’t determined it will
fall.”

Callindra felt her breath catch in her throat
at this simple declaration.  The implication that she was one
of those with the power to defy the forces that sought to bring an
end to the world that she loved was too much for her to take in.
 It was all too much.

“
What in the hells are you
talking about?”  Cronos demanded harshly, “Look, we were hired
to go to the ruins of Lin Lamorak and speak with the Druids there.
 When we got there, all that was left was the Dryad Tyreen.
 She told us to come here and this was supposed to be the end
of that trek,”

“
You have earned your reward
many times over Cronos and no one would question your integrity if
you brought back the information you have gained thus far.”
 Said the Goddess, smoothing stray locks of hair away from her
face that blew in a capricious breeze.  “I am asking you to go
above and beyond what you had initially agreed to do, and I fear I
can offer little in the way of reward.”