Stardust (34 page)

“
You were in most serious need of help,
”
a strong male voice spoke from behind the crowd. Immediately the entities parted as the sound of hooves echoed throughout the stone cavern. Bartok was speechless. Before him stood a being spoken of only within the ancient pages of the Craton, a thing which even the most scholarly of citizens did not have full faith in its existence. Benkyar, prince of the Spirit People.

The half man, half animal moved forward and the other beings fled.
“
I see you know me,
”
he said, his large form towering over Bartok.

Bartok’a awe overcame his fear of
the majestic beast.
“
I have read many writings about you, my Lord. It is a most welcome feeling to know such things are indeed true.
”

Benkyar bent down and held forth his hand.
“
It is a pleasure to meet you as well, Bartok.
”

Bartok took the proffered hand, instantly feeling a rush of energy surge through his body. He stepped back quickly.

“
Forgive me,
”
Benkyar said, bowing low.
“
I have forgotten the effect I have upon mortals.
”

Bartok rubbed his tingling palm against his thigh.
“
Who are the others that are with you?
”

Benkyar followed the direction of Bartok
’
s gaze.
“
Those are gromes, the keepers of the gods. Since neither I nor my people may roam above the ground, they provide us with food and shelter. They carried you from the desert and brought you here.
”

“
I must give them my thanks before I leave,
”
Bartok said.

Benkyar
’
s face became troubled, a frown marring the handsome features.
“
First, we must see to your needs. I have had the gromes prepare you a bath. This will relieve the last of your heat sickness.
”

Bartok followed Benkyar without thought of disobeying. Oddly enough, he was not afraid; rather, he was enthralled. He tried very hard not to stare at Benkyar
’
s cloven feet. It would not do to insult his host. As they moved slowly out across the rocky surface, Bartok shifted his gaze repeatedly, trying to absorb all of the activity taking place about him. Here and there, several smaller creatures, with the same cloven feet as Benkyar, worked quietly as they loaded large stones onto a flat object. Almost immediately the rocks were moved by another group of creatures. Bartok could not understand why anyone would waste their time shifting the huge rocks.

“
They will be used to begin restoration of the temple. There are many events taking place up above. We must be prepared.
”
Benkyar spoke quietly, his eyes never leaving the path on which they trod.

Bartok
’
s surprise at his host
’
s ability to so easily read his thoughts turned to astonishment as they passed between two huge pillars carved into the high stone mountain. He could not believe his eyes as he stared, dumbstruck, at the view before him.
“
Never have I seen such beauty.
”
His voice was hushed.

Benkyar had stopped walking as soon as they passed through the opening, wanting to give Bartok time to become accustomed to the drastic change.
“
You have now passed through the living portal. All around you there is abundant life.
”
Benkyar bowed slightly.
“
We hope
you enjoy your stay within our land.
”

Bartok swallowed audibly, but no words would form on his numb lips. With eyes full of wonder, he looked about him. The grass beneath his feet
was as green as the stone
Saatan wore around his neck. The grassy knolls stretched as far as
the eye could see. Wild flowering plants
of every hue imaginable grew in profusion, adding a rainbow of color. A babbling brook, its water as clear as Belkanian crystal, flowed through the wide valley, its gurgling sweet sound music to the ear. And overhead, the large golden glow of the day orb washed over him in comforting warmth.

Bartok lifted his head and breathed deeply of the fresh, sweet smelling air. The bliss of his total well-being caused him to close his eyes and revel in the unexpected feeling.
“
This is the treasure you protect,
”
Bartok murmured.
“
I have never known another place such as this.
”

“
Nor, I fear, will you ever find such a place again in the mortal world.
”
Benkyar
’
s voice was melancholy, drawing Bartok
’
s eyes to his sad countenance and away from the pleasurable sights.

“
Surely it is not impossible to have such peace and beauty among men?
”
Bartok
’
s question had Benkyar shaking his head, his features even sadder than before.

“
Mortal man will always strive for perfection. The only problem is they tend to strive against one another in their attempt to achieve it. Soon they have created not beauty, but chaos.
”
Benkyar spoke as one who had traveled such a path.
“
Man will always want that which he cannot have.
”

The prince resumed his slow pace and Bartok fell into step beside him.

“
You believe
it is wrong for mortal man
to want certain things which
bring him pleasure in his life?
”
Bartok
’
s question was rife with curiosity.

Benkyar pondered the question for several seconds before forming his reply.
“
I do not believe it is wrong for man to have certain pleasures during this life path. However,
it is true that neither mortal – male or female –
nor any other living creature, should take their pleasure at the expense of another
’
s feelings or beliefs.
”
Benkyar turned knowing eyes upon his guest.
“
Never take for granted that which you have already and never strive for another man
’
s possessions. They may not be as perfect once you hold them as they seemed when you could only see them from afar.
”

Benkyar stopped before a solid rock wall and waved his hand across a flashing light embedded within the stone. Immediately the wall opened before them. As they stepped inside, the rock reappeared, enclosing them in complete silence.

“
By all that is holy,
”
Bartok whispered as a woman dressed in white came towards him.
“
It is you,
”
he cried, falling to his knees.

Benkyar placed his hand on Bartok
’
s shoulder.
“
Do not be frightened. The vision you see before you is not real. It is merely a thought projection.
”
He walked toward the circle of light and reached out to touch the figure within. At once the image disappeared.

“
Please,
”
Bartok begged,
“
you must tell me who that was. For days now, her image has haunted my dreams and guided my actions.
”

“
That was my mate,
”
Benkyar said, frowning at Bartok
’
s words.

Bartok rose to his feet.
“
Do not tell me she is dead.
”
His voice was filled with anguish.
“
I must meet this female. I fear my well-being may very well depend on such a course of fate.
”

“
Bartok,
”
Benkyar whispered, himself feeling a strange sense of awe.
“
That was Tiatiana, my bride.
”

Bartok was stunned, remembering with clarity the tales of the young bride
’
s horrible death.
“
But how can that be? She was there with me, guiding my way.
”

A smile of wonder spread across Benkyar
’
s handsome face.
“
She has brought you home, my son. Welcome to Aermam.
”

* * *

M
oments later Bartok lay in the cool scented waters of the bath the gromes had prepared for him, his mind whirling in confusion. How could a being who had died centuries before have visited him, even in the land of dreams? But Bartok knew the many times he had gazed up at Tiatiana
’
s presence, he had not been encumbered by sleep.

He took the soft cloth and wiped at the skin of his legs. It felt strange to be doing things for himself. Always before, a servant had prepared his bath and bathed him. He rather thought he liked this experience of doing for himself.

He lifted a pitcher of water and poured it upon his head, relishing its cool touch. The time before he had entered the desert seemed as if a dream. It was as though his life had begun upon awakening on the rock cliff. But something pulled at him, forcing him to remember.

Grabbing a silk robe, he rose from the water. He had a mission to fu
lfill. T
he entity of Tiati
ana had been urging him forward, toward this moment.
Now, if only he could remember.

A soft knock sounded on his chamber door.
“
Enter,
”
he called, adjusting the fit of the robe.

A small grome appeared and seemed to bow before him. It was hard to tell as its shape was still indiscernible, merely a glowing, sparkling halo of light.
“
Master Benkyar is waiting. We have secured some nourishment for you. Please follow me.
”
Bartok followed behind his escort, once again struck by the beauty of the place. A long forgotten childhood rhyme flowed through his mind. He could not remember the words but he could remember the feeling the lines had provoked within him. Warmth, security and peace. His mother and father had read it to him at bedtime.

His heart accelerated. He had not thought of his parents in many moons. Their leaving was too deeply connected to the time when Saatan came into his life, the time when his misery had begun.

“
We are here, your greatness.
”
The grome pointed to a small room to the side of Benkyar
’
s living quarters.

“
You look much refreshed,
”
Benkyar said, greeting him.

“
I am. Thank you for your concern,
”
Bartok bowed before him, waiting to be invited into the room.

“
Come. You have no need to stand on ceremony.
”
Benkyar gestured him forward.
“
My helpers have been able to provide an adequate variety of food.
”

Bartok saw a small table set with desert grapes, roasted fowl and a crystal goblet filled with a thick black liquid. He took a small helping of grapes but refused the meat and drink.

Benkyar watched him in silence for several minutes before he picked up the plate of bird.
“
Do you not wish to fill your stomach with something more sustaining?
”

“
No,
”
Bartok shook his head.
“
This is quite enough. I seem to have very little appetite, which is strange. I have not eaten since before I began my journey.
”

“
Well, you must have some of this,
”
Benkyar said, pushing the goblet forward.

Bartok took one look at the thick liquid and shuddered, a strange feeling coming over him. It was as if he craved the taste of the juice but knew he must not partake of the sweet substance.
“
No,
”
he said,
“
I cannot.
”

Benkyar rose to his hooved feet, towering over Bartok. His face became an evil mask
, twisted into another contenence
.
“
You must taste this delicious drink,
”
he insisted, his voice sinister in its tone.

“
No!
”
Bartok shouted, also rising to his feet. His eyes clouded over, his mind cast into the past.
“
No m
ore will I drink of this, Uncle.
”
H
is voice
was
thin and reedy,
timid as a helpless child.