Fire And Ice (Book 1) (66 page)

             
Coran sat up for a while watching the twinkling stars above.  Eventually, without having any answers, he sought his blankets and went to sleep. 

              Coran woke to the sound of a light breeze rustling through the trees.  He didn’t know what time it was, but he felt well rested.  In fact he felt strangely unreal.  He looked about their camp and realized that he was alone.  The sleeping forms of his companions were gone and so were the horses.  Looking back to the blankets he had left he saw that they too had disappeared.  Hearing a noise behind him he spun around to the sight of a familiar woman in a white dress with long white hair down to her knees. 

             
“Who are you?” he asked her again, and this time he needed an answer. 

             
She smiled her knowing smile.  “You still do not know?  You are of my people, you must know me.”

             
“Are you a spirit, or a sorceress?” he asked, knowing it was not true.

             
“You guess, but you do not know.”  She sighed at his lack of understanding.  “Open your mind and you will know me.”  When he only stood there she went on in that strong musical voice.  “Did you really think that I came to you the last time?  You called me. Now relax your mind.”

             
He did as she suggested. Her voice became soothing and he relaxed easily.  He wasn’t sure how he did it, but his mind seemed to flow outward, to open.  It was like the techniques Gelarus showed him, but more intense.  He thought of the woman before him and he knew.  He knew her real name as well as the one she was called by men.

             
“Lea’Nortia’Anye,” he said slowly, his mind still open.

             
She smiled warmly.  “Not many remember.  Long ago they chose to call me Nortia.  It is my own fault really.  When they chose to follow me I never gave them a name, but simply called them Northmen since they were of the North. Someone, sometime, called me Nortia, for the North I suppose, and the name stuck.  The other was eventually forgotten.  I do not mind.”  She must have realized that she was reminiscing and her look became serious.  “Do you know what you must do?  Do you know why you have come here?” 

             
The flow of his mind still open he knew.  “Yes, but I am not sure why.”  What he saw before him was a sword.  The need to have it pulled at him.

             
“The reason will come when it is needed,” she told him.  “As will other things.”

             
“What things?”

             
“Your power.  You have been given a great deal of power, but it only comes through need, for now.”

             
“What kind of power?”

             
“You will know when the time is right.”  She seemed to look at something that was not there.  “I must go.”

             
“Wait.”  He held out a hand towards her.  “Will I see you again?”

             
“Sooner than you think,” was her response before she disappeared. 

              He awoke again in his blankets.  It had to have been a dream.  The gods were not real.  If the gods are not real than it could not have been Nortia.  Satisfied with his logic he closed his eyes.  Eventually he was able to go back to sleep.  In his next dream he was being chased by a figure in a dark cloak, but thankfully it was only a dream too.   

Chapter 34

Ice

              A few leagues east of the river, along one of its tributaries, they found the city of Herrinhall.  It was originally named Herrin’s Hall for a good friend of Eryk who was killed during the last Great War.  Eventually the name was shortened by those who knew it.  When new maps were made they had a tendency to spell the name how it was sounded.  So the city was now called Herrinhall.  It was built among flat hills and forests, the trees came up almost to the walls themselves.  Despite the stout walls and square towers, Herrinhall was not intended to ever repel a siege.  It was a city that was built for peace, not war. 

             
In a way it reminded him of Summerhall.  The Shining City was originally built as a symbol of peace and unity for Midia.  It was not built solely for defense such as Northwatch, or Holdon’s Keep.  It was interesting that the two greatest men of their time, known for their acts during war, each built his own, lasting symbol of peace.

             
The gray of the stone walls seemed darker against the snow that surrounded it like a sea to an island.  They approached the gates which stood open and unguarded.  He questioned Storvik about that.  Apparently, guards were considered unnecessary since no one would kill another here.  Realistically, the people were not so naive as that.  A guard post was on the inside of the walls, set back a few feet so it would not stand out, but close enough to be effective.

             
Another thing he noticed that was different from other cities was the lack of banners flying from the towers.  All the cities he had seen had banners.  It was eerie in a way not to see any flapping in the wind.

             
As they entered the city he saw the stone gatehouse and the guard’s head sticking out of the side of it.  The frown on his bearded face was clear, but he didn’t come out and challenge them.                

             
The streets were wide and cleared of snow.  They were still wet in places though.  The buildings reminded him of Westhaven with their clean, and well kept appearance.  None of them were over two stories high.  There was no need since the city was spread out over such a wide area.  The people were all of the North.  There was a disproportionate amount of leather and furs in the apparel of the populace.  He

also saw more red hair than he had in his lifetime.  Most of the rest of the people had blonde hair, very few had dark.  Some w
ore them in braids, men and women.  Others left theirs to stick out wildly, they were mostly just the men.  There were even some in colorful coats with no beards at all and short cut hair.  The city held all the various elements that made up the people of the North.

             
They watched him with looks ranging from displeasure to curiosity to disinterest.  No one commented that he could hear.  With Storvik at his side he was considered acceptable in one way or another.  He realized that his meeting Storvik had been a fortuitous one.  Would he have gotten through the gates if he had been alone?

             
They rode up the wide avenue to the center of the city where another wall stood to oppose them.  He was amazed by the way the wall was built in a perfect circle.  Its sides disappeared away in the distance like the horizon when at sea.  The gates that stood before them were closed and the guards were this time very visible.  They wore nothing that resembled uniforms or to signify that they belonged to any special group.  Axes hung from their belts and spears were in their hands.  A couple had the thick beards he associated with the men of Dorne.  The one who approached them was not much older than Coran and had a well trimmed beard of light brown.  That meant he was probably from Leanesse.  The other two stood in front of the wooden gates.              

             
“Get your money ready,” Storvik said in a low voice.  Coran didn’t have a chance to respond.

             
“You two may enter,” the guard said to Storvik and Kjell.  “What do you want?” he asked Coran a bit rudely.

             
Coran fixed him with a level look.  “Any man with the blood of the North may enter, correct?”

             
“Yes,” the man replied sounding a little unsure.  Coran booted his horse forward and the guard put a hand to his ax while stepping out of the way.  “Hold.  What are you doing?”

             
“I am going in.  It is my right as you just said.”

             
The guard glanced to Storvik, but the big Northman offered no help. “You are a Midian?” he asked trying to make sense of it.

             
“I am, as well, a Northman.”  He went to move again, but was blocked again.  “Do you doubt my word?”  Coran said dangerously and put a hand to the hilt of his long sword.  He knew from the little time spent with Northmen, and what he had heard before that they liked things straight forward.  Lying was frowned upon and they were as touchy as anyone when it came to their honor or having their word questioned. 

             
“If you are...mistaken then it would be my fault for letting you in,” the guard stated diplomatically.  He didn’t want to start anything, but he was not about to take his word for it alone. “If I may suggest a solution?”

             
“I will consider what you have to say.”

             
“I will summon one of the wizards to assess your claim.”  He smiled.  The smile said ‘nice try’.  No one who was lying would wait around for a wizard.              

             
“Very well,” Coran said impatiently.  “But make it quick.  I have traveled a long way and wish to finish my task.”

             
“Your name?  If the wizard wishes to know?”

             
“Coran Tyelin.”

             
The guard walked away quickly.

             
“I hope you know what you are doing,” Storvik stated with a worried frown.  “Or you will not live to pay me my five golds.”  He did not sound so sure of his bet anymore. 

             
Kjell just sat his horse with a look of bewilderment painted on his face.

             
As the gate was opened part of the way to allow the guard inside Coran got a glimpse of a large courtyard that was on the other side.  If anything was to either side he couldn’t see it from there.  He did see the hall, or palace.  The front part was a tall straight wing that protruded out from the rest of the structure  which disappeared to each side of the gates.  Some people in various modes of dress passed across the yard. 

             
It was about ten minutes later when the guard returned, his face was white and he was sweating in the cold air.  “Open the gates!” he ordered and they were swung open all the way.  The guard then bowed his head to Coran.  “You may enter with my apologies.” 

             
Trying to hide his surprise Coran spurred his horse past the man and into the courtyard.  He expected to be believed since his claim was the truth, but he never imagined it would produce such deferential treatment.  A stunned couple of Northmen followed.  Their horses were taken by stable hands and led towards a squat structure to one side of the yard he did not see before.  The three of them headed towards the wide stairs that led to the front of the palace.

             
“You were saying about having your money ready?”  Coran stated.              

             
“I do not understand it, but you are not in the hall yet,” Storvik said and stopped at the foot of the steps.  He stared up at a man who stood in the doorway.  Kjell did as well.

             
Coran did not recognized him.  At first glance he had a thought that it was Gelarus, but a closer look told him how mistaken he was.  The style of hair and beard were the same, but this man’s was grayer, not so white.  He wore a brown shirt and trousers beneath an open, off white robe.

             
“Tenobius,” Storvik greeted the man respectfully.  “It is an honor to finally meet you in person.”

             
“Storvik.  Kjell.”  Tenobius greeted the two Northmen absently, as if he had known them all his life, his eyes remained locked on Coran.  “I should thank you two for bringing him here safely.”

             
The two men inclined their heads slightly and glanced at Coran with amazement.  They had to be wondering who he was to afford such honor.  Coran wondered himself.  He was wondering who this man before him was.

             
“You have been expected,” the man called Tenobius told him.  “Only I was unsure of exactly when or I would have been here to greet you.”

             
Coran could only look confused.  “I am sorry, but you seem to know me.”

             
“Of course,” the man broke in.  “I should have introduced myself.  I am Tenobius, First Wizard of Herrinhall. And you are Coran?”

             
“I am.  But how did you know I was coming?”

             
Tenobius looked surprised that he should ask.  “My Mistress informed me of your coming.”               

             
“Mistress?”              

             
“Nortia,” Tenobius said and Storvik jerked in surprise.  He and Kjell looked at Coran in awe.  Maybe wondering what interest their goddess took in a Midian. 

             
“We can discuss that later,” the wizard said hurriedly.  “You should come inside and hear what is being said.”

             
The entry hall was massive, with a high ceiling and polished stone walls.  Pillars lined the room and plants grew in niches.  Large windows to each side provided plenty of light.  Forward it narrowed down to a broad hallway, also lined with pillars and a few halls branching off of it.  After about ten minutes they were led to a set of tall doors of dark wood.  Carvings decorated the doors.  He could see large standing wolves, one on each stood facing each other.  The doors opened as soon as Tenobius was spotted.  They went in to the grand hall.

             
More rounded columns lined the side walls, and stone pits were dug into the floor at regular intervals where fires burned for warmth.  The hall was jammed with Northmen as varied as he had seen in the streets.  At the far end, three steps led up to a dais where three men stood over the crowd.  They had to be the Northern Kings.  Behind them he could make out the top of  what might have been a throne.

             
He followed Tenobius along one side between the columns and the wall until they had almost reached the front.  There he stopped and indicated that they should listen.  He realized that his two companions had followed.

             
“We have been over this,” one of the Kings said in disgust.  He had hair and a beard the same as Storvik's, but he was older, shorter and heavier in the middle.  He was not dressed like any king he had ever seen.  His clothes were a simple brown and he had on a cloak of thick, brown fur.  “A quarter of our ships are fighting the invaders in the Sea of the East.”              

             
“And another quarter have sailed south to watch the fleet of Ithanians,” a second King added in.  He had blonde hair that hung just above his shoulders and a neat beard.  He wore a yellow coat over his clothes.  “We should need no more proof than that.  The war is about to begin, and if we sit here much longer we will miss out on it.”

             
Coran, listening to the exchange, was distracted by something.  He let his gaze drift past the standing Kings to the side of the dais where an iron bound door stood closed.  The top was rounded and a keyhole was evident on one side.  There was something in there, something that tugged at his mind.  He turned his head and leaned over to whisper in Tenobius’ ear.  “That door.  Where does it lead?”

             
He looked to the side of the dais.  “To a chamber.”

             
“What is in it?” he asked, the tugging sensation did not let up.

             
“Something important.”  He said no more.

             
Coran shook himself to break the ghostly connection, and turned his attention back to the meeting at hand.

             
“Then where is the Lord of the North!” someone shouted from the crowd.

             
“We can’t go south without the Lord!” 

             
The words were drowned out in a multitude of opinions being given at once.

             
“You see the problem?” Tenobius said in his ear. 

             
It seemed Storvik had truly cut to the heart of the matter with his explanation.  “I do, but what am I to do about it?”

             
“You came here to speak to them did you not?  Do so,” Tenobius suggested calmly.

             
Coran scanned the exuberant men in the hall.  They could easily turn hostile on him.  By the reactions on the King’s faces he guessed that the conversation was not a new one, but rather,  had been hashed out many times before.  They might actually welcome a change.  It helped for him to tell himself that.