Road To Shandara (Book One of The Safanarion Order) (30 page)

Aaron tested the weight of the hand axe and noted that it was pretty well balanced. He held the axe before him lining it up with his target and calmly sent the ax into the target landing alongside Armel’s ax, albeit not as deep.

Tolvar laughed with delight, “Not one for brute strength I see.”

“Only when the occasion calls for it." Aaron answered retrieving both axes and handing one back to Armel.

“How about the one over there." Armel said gesturing toward the furtherest target that was a good sixty paces away. He lined up his shot and sent the axe sailing into the target where it stuck perfectly. Armel made it look easy.

Aaron sighed and lined up his shot. Then brought his arm down sending the ax just wide of the target. Some of the onlookers laughed and he looked back at Tolvar and Armel and shrugged his shoulders.

“Try again." Tolvar urged handing him another ax.

He took a breath and blocked out the noise of the camp until it was just himself and the target. A slight breeze toyed with the branches overhead, but Aaron was fixed on the target as he brought the ax up. He focused himself and the bladesong filled his mind, sharpening his perceptions. The familiar tingle spread throughout his limbs as he summoned the energy from the earth below, allowing it to course through his body. He hurled the ax with such force that the tree stump exploded in a shower of splinters. The men around them gasped aloud, but Tolvar nodded to himself and studied Aaron thoughtfully.

“Not bad." Armel said appearing not to be surprised and motioned for Aaron to follow.

Aaron was shocked, he hadn’t meant to throw the ax like that. He didn’t even know he could do that. They walked to the remains of the target and retrieved their axes. Two men came with a new target and mounted it in place of the old one.

“How about we make this more interesting?” Armel said. “Do you think you can keep my ax from reaching the target?”

Aaron glanced at him doubtfully, “Are you serious?”

“We know you have strength, but do you have control I wonder." Armel answered. “It is possible I assure you. If you like I will block your next throw even if you throw as you did before.”

Aaron looked back at Tolvar who nodded back.
Let’s see if you can block this.
He picked up his ax and called the bladesong in his mind. The power from the earth below answered his call more eagerly than before. He brought up the ax before him and hurled it with all his might toward the target. A flash of light and a loud clang echoed as the ax he threw buried itself into the ground well short of the target. Laying only a few feet away was Armel’s ax. Aaron looked at Armel in surprise and the man simply smirked back at him and held up another ax tauntingly.

Armel threw his ax five more times and each time Aaron tried to knock it out of the air like Armel had done to his, only he missed by a wide margin. What was he doing wrong? Armel had made it look so easy. Even when he hurled the ax with all his might so that that ax blurred from sight, Armel’s ax still hit the target first. The big man said nothing but held up another ax waiting for the next throw with an amused glint in his eyes.

“Might I offer a bit of advice?” Tolvar asked quietly beside Aaron. “Your mind is divided, focus on one target at a time.”

He already was focusing on the target, Aaron thought bitterly grabbing another ax. He needed to keep Armel’s ax from the tree stump, which meant watching Armel’s ax and the target…his thoughts scattered as Tolvar’s point was driven home. He summoned the bladesong to his mind and his perceptions sharpened. Taking a deep breath and holding it, he nodded to Armel. When the big man sent his ax sailing to the target Aaron drew in the energy from the earth until he felt he would burst and focused on Armel’s ax. Time seemed to slow down and Aaron saw the pattern of the axe’s flight. He unleashed the ax, focusing his energy on its flight using the air to guide its path. Like a falcon dive bombing his quarry Aaron’s ax forced Armel’s into the ground in a cloud of earth.

“Very good," Tolvar shouted, clapping. The men who watched nodded in approval.

“Well done." Armel said simply.

“Thank you." Aaron said.

“We haven’t seen anyone block Armel’s ax in a long time and to be quite honest his ax needed it." Tolvar said with a smirk toward his son. “You know I haven’t seen it done in many years, since before the fall of Shandara I’d say. Right Armel?” Tolvar asked and Armel thought for a moment then nodded back. “That’s right. It was the night we hosted that crowned prince. What was his name?” Tolvar said rubbing the back of his neck and Aaron’s heart pounded in his chest. “Hmmm…Romus or Ryan, no that’s not right. When you’re as old as I am you lose some of the details." Tolvar said with a furrowed brow.

“Reymius?” Aaron asked quietly.

“Yes!” Tolvar exclaimed his eyes lighting up excitedly. “It took him many more tries to block Armel’s throw." Tolvar said and Aaron glanced back at Armel attempting to calculate his age. While the man was older it didn’t add up in his mind.

“Did you know Reymius?” Tolvar asked.

“Yes." Aaron replied and the images of his family played through his mind, from his grandfather’s kindly face to his mother’s endearing eyes and his father’s strong demeanor. A lump grew his throat. No matter how much time passed he would never stop missing them.

“Haven’t seen his like in a long time. That is," Tolvar paused looking at Aaron pointedly. “until today." Tolvar said putting his hand on Aaron’s shoulder. When Aaron stiffened Tolvar continued, “It’s alright son you are amongst friends here. Especially a scion of the house Alenzar’seth.”

Aaron gaped for a moment, “How did you know?”

“Trust that some of us see with eyes beyond that of ordinary men. Perhaps in time you will as well." Tolvar smiled sincerely. “It gladdens my heart to know that at least some of you escaped the destruction of Shandara. But it breaks the wanderer’s heart not to be able to traverse the land of Shandara for they were amongst the most beautiful in all the world." The sun had dipped low in the sky and the men started heading back to camp. “Be at ease this night and know that you are safe here." Tolvar spoke in such a way that Aaron believed him.

The lone roar of a Ryakul drew Aaron’s gaze to the sky. It was too far to see and Tolvar again reassured him that the Ryakul couldn’t find them here. Having convinced himself that the mysterious rider of the Ryakul was in fact the Drake, Aaron wondered if the protection of the camp would thwart even the Drake. It was a short walk back to camp where wood was being piled high for several bonfires. Tolvar took Aaron to a place where they could wash up and while it wasn’t a hot shower it did feel good to be a little bit clean. Aaron kept scanning the crowd for some sign of Sarah, but couldn’t find her. They took their ease on one of the many benches that surrounded the bonfires when Margaret walked up and whispered into Tolvar’s ear, who smiled and nodded back to his wife.

“Not to worry Aaron she’ll be along shortly." Margaret said smiling in reassurance.

The sun had set and the brilliance of the firelight filled the air with a comforting flare. Smells of cooking food made Aaron’s stomach grumble as Armel and some others joined them bringing food that tasted as delicious as it smelled. Sarah’s absence kept gnawing away at him and while he suspected no foul play on the part of his host, the lack of her presence was grating his nerves.

“Aaron, I must take my leave from you at this time, but you should stay here with Armel and the other unmarried men,” said Tolvar and quickly departed before he could inquire.

Aaron noticed a group of men setting up a variety of drums off to the side and were soon joined by others carrying different sorts of instruments. A hush swept over the crowd and he glanced at the others, but their attention was focused across the way, beyond the bonfires. The drummers beat their drums in unison with their sticks gliding effortlessly through the air. Each beat of the drum was precise and at times so fast that it was chaotic in its harmony.

Colorfully dressed dancers appeared between the bonfires. All the dancers were female and as they spun their skirts flared showing a rainbow of colors and a good portion of their legs. He spotted Sarah spinning and stomping her bare feet in time with the others. Her dark shirt clung to her skin leaving her bare midriff caressed by firelight. Her long blond hair rode the air in waves following the rest of her body as she moved with grace few could hope to achieve. Their eyes locked and her smile made the heat rise in his chest and melted his heart. He followed her movements unable to tear his eyes away until she faded from view going on the far side of the bonfire.

Aaron could feel the rhythm of the music coarse through him, quickening its pace and his beating heart rose to keep time. The bonfires began to flare brilliantly as the dance continued. A familiar presence tickled the edges of his senses and his eyes found Sarah’s once again and she smiled. Aaron extended his senses and was swept away amidst the torrent of energy emanating from the crowd as it focused on the dancers.
See with eyes beyond that of ordinary men.
Tolvar’s words echoed in his mind. Aaron searched the crowd and found Tolvar and his wife watching him.

A hand gently gripped his shoulder and Armel nodded towards the dancers. “The choosing is about to begin." Aaron looked at Sarah and back at Armel with raised eyebrows. “Tolvar didn’t tell you?” Aaron shook his head and Armel continued. “You’ve come to us on a night of the choosing, celebrated with the solstices. Where a woman may choose a man she finds worthy and if he accepts her laurel crown, will be with her for as long as they both wish.”

Aaron’s breath quickened as he turned back to Sarah swimming in her deep blue eyes swathed in golden firelight beneath the starlight sky. She smiled at him in that way of hers, and the world around them faded to gray as Aaron finally accepted what his heart had been telling him since they first met. With Sarah he would always be playing for keeps. He loved her, despite the worlds that separated them and being so far from everything he had ever known. In this place, Safanar, he had found his other half and in a span between moments a single wave of truth purged away all doubts as he saw the very same reflected in her eyes.

The women resumed their circuit, weaving through the bonfires and the men fought to keep themselves from giving in to their urges to join in the dance. Aaron wondered if Sarah understood what this dance meant?

Did he?

They had known each other for such a short time, just a few weeks aboard the Raven and a few brief moments in time before that. Was that enough? His father would have told him you only needed a few key moments to realize how you felt about someone.

How you feel when you look at her, when she’s looking back at you.

How you feel when you watch her, when she’s not looking.

And probably the most important is how you feel when you kiss her. All the rest is whether you want to admit it to yourself. Love is just love Aaron, there is no perfect time.

Aaron recalled the conversation as clear as day. It had been when he had asked his father how he knew that his mother was the one. He smiled a bit in remembrance of gentler days and then Sarah stood before him glowing, with the firelight caressing her silhouette. She held out her hand to him and he stared at it for a moment before rising and taking her hand in his. Other men who had been chosen rose and removed their shirts and Aaron followed suit. The tattoo of the dragon shimmered in the firelight, a living replica of the medallion in his pocket.

The bonfires grew in an unearthly brilliance releasing bursts into the night sky. Sarah reached up and removed a crown of laurels from the flowers in her hair and Aaron knelt before her. She gently placed her laurel crown on his head and he felt an invisible shroud of warmth rest on his shoulders cascading down his back. Aaron rose to his feet and moved in rhythm with Sarah and the rest of the world was gone from his mind. His heart bursted with each flare of the bonfire, sending a roar of flame into an otherwise dark night.

Love is just love Aaron, there is no perfect time.
His father’s voice whispered in the back of his mind and Aaron clutched to this moment where he had never felt happier or more at peace.
Thank you Dad.

The rest of the camp rose to join the chosen, but for Aaron and Sarah the world resided in both their eyes. Aaron felt a hand clamp down on his shoulder.

“Congratulations." Tolvar said with his wife grinning next to him.

Aaron’s reply was cut off as a Ryakul’s shriek pierced the night above them sending a hush over the camp as they looked up in alarm. He could hear the wings beating the air in great swaths as the Ryakuls circled the camp. Sarah’s hand found his and squeezed in gentle reassurance. A shadowed figure rode the Ryakul searching, seeming to look upon the crowd but not seeing any of them.

“Are you sure the protection will hold?” Aaron whispered.

“It will not breach the protection of this camp." Tolvar replied firmly.

“Are you sure? Whatever that thing is riding the Ryakul can sense that something is not right here. Perhaps you should get your people to safety." Aaron said.

The Ryakul stopped circling directly above them. The rider’s long howl sawed through the air causing them to cover their ears in a feeble attempt to block out the piercing sound. Aaron collapsed to the ground clutching his chest. The dragon tattoo burned and shimmered silver in the darkness. His vision burned red as the pain in his chest threatened to overwhelm him.

“Fight it Aaron, it calls to you." Tolvar said as both he and Sarah crouched by his side.

Aaron braced himself with one hand on the ground and the other clutching his chest. He felt it then deep within the fires of pain, a summons. This was the Drake and its call stirred something sleeping inside of him. The silvery light of the dragon tattoo pulsed with his heart’s rhythm and Aaron glared up at the sky feeling the building energy within him as if he had keyed a bladesong of pure molten rage. The voices of his ancestors screamed for vengeance on the Drake who robbed them of their lives. He felt his will erode away wanting to be swept up in the torrent and at the same time a small voice pleaded caution.