The Black Sword Trilogy: The Four Nations (34 page)

Dominating the floor was the huge, black tree trunk standing on its roots.  He could just barely see the jagged top and that the inside of the trunk was hollow on the inside.  Smoke billowed from the hollow and th
e entire temple was thick with the familiar aroma of strong tobacco. 

Tobacco, Kenner thought?  That can’t be.  He followed a root from the tree to one of the sides of the temple.  It led to a large billows being made to go up and down by a series of rope
s and pulleys hung from the ceiling and pulled by a Morgril regularly.

“Is that what I think it is?” Kenner mumbled to Terri.

“Oh my Lady!” She said gasping.  “I think it’s a pipe.”

“And you would be right,” said a powerful voice echoing off of the stone
walls.

Seated high on a huge stone pedestal beyond the pipe was an enormous Morgril covered in thick, white fur.  He looked to be at least three times the size of the other Morgrils with a huge, bloated body that looked as if barely supported by the stone
chair he appeared to be both sitting and lying in at the same time.  He held a vine that led back to the pipe and took a deep inhale.  He then blew a plume of smoke toward the ceiling.  Kenner followed the thick cloud of smoke to an opening in the dome where all the smoke poured out into the sky.

“Where can I get one of these?” Terri asked in a whisper.

“This was a gift from the Lady of the Woods.” The huge Morgril said to her.  “It was given to me a long time ago and I’ve enjoyed it for many, many years.

“
Must be difficult to clean,” Kenner said dryly.

“I wouldn’t know.” The Morgril boomed.  “I’ve never had to do it myself.”

“I don’t recall the Lady mentioning giving a gift of a pipe to anyone.” Terri said suspiciously.  She didn’t like anyone mentioning Kayla without what she felt to be the proper respect.

“I’m not talking about the lovely young Kayla, Terri.” He said, appearing to be smiling under his thick fur.  “This was given to me by a Lady that has been gone for a very long time.”

He then turned his attention to Kenner.

“And you must be Kenner from the hills?” He said with a grin appearing behind another thick cloud of smoke.

“You have me at a disadvantage sir,” Kenner said in a guarded voice.  He was beyond the events in his dream and didn’t know what would happen next.  “You know my name, but I’m afraid I don’t know yours.”

The Morgril peered at Kenner through curious eyes.  It looked to Kenner as he were being searched or examined like something new.

              “My name,” He said as if trying to remember.  “My name…yes…I think I had a name once.”

             
“Most people do.”

The Morgril then laughed.

              “Most people do, yes.” He said chuckling.  “But would you consider me ‘people’?”

Kenner was taken aback by the question.  He looked at Terri as if she might help him.

              “Don’t look at me.  You’re the one who said it.” She told him.

He looked back at the Morgril, trying to think of something intelligent to say.

              “I don’t see why not.” He said trying to sound diplomatic.

The Morgril laughed again.

              “Do you consider yourself a Morgril then?” He asked Kenner.

Kenner thought for a moment, looked at Terri who merely shrugged then sighed.

              “Is it too late to end this particular discussion until I learn not to put my foot in my mouth?”

The Morgril then leaned his head back and his
whole, huge body shook with laughter.

             
“That sir is as fine an answer as I’ve ever heard in this hall.” He then held up the root from which he had been smoking.  “I salute you sir.”

             
“I thank you sir.” Kenner said allowing himself to laugh a little.  “Unfortunately, I still don’t know what to call you.”

             
“Ah yes…my name.” He said and then took another draw of smoke.  “I think I had a name once, but it’s been so long since anyone has said it to me, I simply can’t recall it.”

             
“Surely they call you something.”

             
“They usually call me ‘Father’.” He said.

             
“And may we call you the same?”

             
“You most certainly may.”

             
Kenner and Terri were then led to the floor of the hall where ‘Father’ was telling them something about the images on the tiles.  They barely heard him as they were both fascinated and awed by the enormous Blackwood pipe.  It stood, at least twenty feet tall with a jagged open maw that smoke continuously billowed out of.  It was balanced perfectly on its roots like a table on enormous legs.  What they were both most amazed by was the feeling that they seemed to be sensing from the pipe.  It wasn’t like a cut down and hollowed dead tree.  Like all the Blackwood trees they had seen in the far away forest, it seemed alive, old and wise.  It didn’t seem to mind being a huge smoking pipe.  Kenner would swear that he felt that the pipe was proud of what it was.

             
“It is the only one of its kind.” Father told them.

             
“Before today, I wouldn’t have thought even one of these could exist.” Terri said grinning.

             
“Before it was given to me, I wouldn’t have thought so either.”

Terri reached out her hand to touch it and when she did, she felt as if a thousand years of memory tried to flood into her, but then pulled back as she simply would not be able to hold it
all.

             
“The ironic thing is that I was considering quitting smoking at the time.” Father said with a joking tone.  “But how could I possibly quit after such a marvelous gift?”

             
Kenner was just as in awe of it as Terri, but then remembered that there was a reason he had followed the ten Morgrils from the river.  He then turned around to face Father and found himself staring up at a thirty foot high stone pedestal, upon which the Father sat like a statue.

             
“I don’t mean to sound rude, sir…” He started to say.

             
“Ah yes,” Father replied.  “You’re wondering why I asked my sons to bring you here.”

             
“Yes, I am.”

             
“I’m assuming they told you about the fifty Walechian ships waiting for you up the river?”

             
“They did, but with the Sword, the Blackwood Bow and a rather surly cat, I do think we could have handled them.”

             
“Oh yes, I meant to ask you about your cat.  Is that really a battle cat?”

             
“Yes she is.  But I hope you don’t mind if I remind you of the question I just asked.”

             
“Not at all.  What was the question again?”

             
“Why did you ask us here?”

             
“Ah yes…why did I ask you here?  Hmm…that’s an excellent question.  Let me think for a moment.”

             
Terri couldn’t believe what she was seeing.  Was this some sort of joke?  Kenner was equally confused and was starting to become a little irritated.

             
“Was it something you wanted to give me, like some kind of weapon?”

             
“Oh no, nothing like that.  You already have the weapons you’ll ever need.”

             
“Was it some piece of information?”

Father took another thoughtful draw.

              “That’s starting to sound familiar.             

             
“Perhaps some kind of secret?”

             
“That’s very close, I think.”

             
“Perhaps a recipe you wanted to share?”

Father looked down on him and winked.

              “That’s a good one.  No…let me think for a moment.”

Kenner sighed in frustration and
looked back to Terri.

             
“Oh yes, I remember.  There’s someone who wants to talk to you.”

             
“Would that have been you?”

Father wagged his finger at him.

              “You certainly are a clever one.  No, it’s not me.”

             
“May I ask who?”

             
“You may ask.”

Kenner stared up at
him waiting.

             
“I’m afraid I can’t tell you.”

Terri, in order that Kenner wouldn’t see her went around to the other side of the pipe in order to laugh.

              Suddenly Father’s tone turned more serious and wiser.

             
“What I can tell you is this.  It is very important that you go to see who wants to speak with you, listen carefully and head everything you are told.”

Kenner sensed extreme importance in what Father was telling him and it frightened him slightly.

              “The world is beginning to move at a much faster pace than what was predicted.  It was believed that there would be more time for you to learn more about why the Sword chose you above all others and become more comfortable with yourself to trust your own judgment.”

             
“This doesn’t sound good.”

             
“All of the prophecies have led to this point and no one knows or can possibly see what will happen next.”

             
“You make it sound like the entire world’s in my hands.” Kenner protested.

             
“It may be,” Father replied.  He then smiled and leaned further back in his chair.  “But then again, the world is always in someone’s hands, isn’t it?  No matter who they are, where they are or what they do the decisions of a mere child as to which stone to throw in the river change the world in some way.”  He then looked toward Kenner thought Terri might be hiding.  “You can come out now,” He called to her.  “I promise I’ll stop making you laugh.”

The Dark Lords

              There were three of them; Atlock, Dreylock and Bleylock and their goal was to destroy the world that had once existed and reshape it according to their own design.

             
They had begun as traveling magicians and conjurers in the time of the Morgril Empire.  They journeyed on their separate paths from city to city and from village to village performing simple tricks to entertain patrons.  As they journeyed, they learned secrets and mysteries.  They learned elixirs and potions to heal the sick and to prolong life.  They learned spells and enchantments to sway the minds of women and men.  They obtained dark powers that allowed them to dominate the wills of those near them and force the weak to become their servants.  It was even said that they could transform themselves into terrible beasts that could kill and destroy everyone and everything in their way.  They even learned the secrets of life and death and prolonged their own lives far beyond the time allotted to normal women and men.

             
They watched the humans of the world corrupt and destroy the world around them, taking what they wanted and leaving only destruction in their wake.  Wanting to end what they saw as injustice and wanton greed they each vowed individually to put an end to what they saw as evil and corrupt and bring about the beginning of what they believed would be a better world.

             
But through the many years of their learning more and more and seeing more that angered them, their own anger corrupted their own hearts.  They did not wish to lead the way to a better world through their own example.  Instead they each decided that the only path to a better world was to destroy everything that women and men had built and bring about a time of chaos that they each felt would cleanse the world of what they perceived as evil.

             
The world as they knew it was ultimately a small place and after centuries of wandering alone, they met each other and began plotting together along the lines of anarchy and violence.  They formed an alliance with one another and consolidated a plan for the destruction of all human civilization.  Once their plan was complete, they would command people as they felt they should be commanded and dominated.  Women, Men and Morgrils alike would be brought to their knees and construct another world that served their master’s needs.