The Exodus Sagas: Book IV - Of Moons and Myth (81 page)

“
Oth…er…s?
It was a struggle
to speak
, painful and whispered were his words, but he got them out.

“
Yiiglli vunderalli criili birill issi ouromi allissi!”
Dalliunn tried to tell him how many
were there, about their journey
, but he knew that Zen would not understand.

Azenairk’s eyes closed again, exhausted, in pain, yet thankful to be alive. He prayed for his family, his friends, and thanked Vundren for the lewirja’s incredible sense of smell.

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“
Push
, push, Rosana you have to
push!”
Drodunn begged
.

“
I am
pushing,
ahhhhh!
It is,
ooohhh, ahhhhh
, it hurts! I can’t!” Rosana was sweating, screaming in pain. She was not ready, the baby was coming, and she gripped Dodunn’s hand so hard her knuckles cracked.

“I see it, I do. Boy got some hair he does!” High Hammer Brunnwik was on his knees, next to father Garret, watching the girl bleed something fierce. “And there he went, back in. Stubborn boy indeed. Sure he’s not a dwarf? Hairy, stubborn, ye’ never---“

“Shut him up,
please God
, shut him up!
Ahhhh!”

“Rosana, the baby will be here soon. Have you a name so that I may ask Alden for his grace and
blessed
love to shine upon mother and child?”

“Yes, with Cristoff’s permission…
ahhhh, ohhh!”
She bit her lip, the pain shot everywhere, even into her face, with every contraction.

“State the name, my queen.”
Cristoff had just walked in, armor half on, men holding plates up with straps. He was covered in sweat, having just marched back from Tintasarn.

“Breathe Rosana, breathe deep and slow. Cristoff, will you be staying?” Garret was sweating now, nervous, Rosana had lost so much blood for such a petit woman.

“I can’t push anymore, I can’t say
the name, I can’t, I can’t!
I am not ready for this, not yet!
”
She fell back in the bed of pillows and white sheets, fatigue taking over in between pushes. Her eyes rolled, yet she appeared to be drifting in and out. “
Where is Cristoff?”

Two squires were buckling his armor as Rosana pushed, the sound of forces in steel readying outside the tent echoed all around.
Cristoff looked up as his belts and shoulderplates were finished, took his helm, and sheathed his sword. His cape came last, red it was, clasped at the shoulders. The Lord Bradswellen looked magnificent in the
silver plate
armor of Herrimus, yet his eyes drifted to Rosana, his first love.

“I am here.” His amber brown eyes looked into hers, and he put his armored hand out to touch her forehead. “You have my word, my solemn oath, I shall care for you and our child until death take me
, my queen
.
Now, name him.
”

“
It is not your child, my lord.”
Rosana whispered with a smile, and put her hand on his beard. “And I am no longer a queen. Why would you do me such honor and charity?”

Cristoff hung his head low. He looked to the waiting eyes of Drodunn, Brunnwik, and father Garret D’Ourmas. They had a moments’ rest before it began again, but instead of washing or preparing, they listened.

“I know. I know this boy is the son o
f my cousin, your late husband, and a great noble knight.
I know, we have not our titles in Harlaheim, and we are far from home. But, in this new home, he shall be my son. And, you will always be my queen, Rosana.”

“
Do you love me, Cristoff Bradswellen the Third?”
She whispered.

“Since the day I met
you, two decades past, when you were but a Caberran princess, before you chose my cousin over me.
And every day since.
”

She reached up and kissed him softly on the lips, eyes closed, and fell back to her pillows. His hand trailed through her short hair and over her shoulder as she came and went.

“
What strange lives we have led, our marriages, children, and then all of this adventure
and tragedy
.”
She opened her eyes wider, the pain
was coming again, bringing her out of her listless state.

“Yes, my queen. Alden moves in mysterious fashion sometimes.” Cristoff felt a tear hit his cheek, and he stood, bringing his regal posture back into place as three holy men stared and listened.

“
Alden requires a name, Rosana. The baby comes now
.” Garret was teary eyed, knowing what honor Cristoff had in taking this child, this woman, as his own.

“With your permission, Cristoff…”

“Anything, my love.” He looked at the tent, he could not meet her eyes, not after the kiss. His heart raced.

“
The child shall be
named
Savanno
, Savanno Bradswell
en the First
, if it please you, my lord
.”
Rosana whispered, the pain was coming, she looked up to Cristoff with teary eyes. He was still.

Garret waited, Drodunn and Brunnwik paused, even the squires of Cristoff stood still. They looked to Lord Cristoff, stoic and unmoving in his regal battle attire. His eyes looked down to the golden feathered cross around his neck.

“I would
…I would be most honored, my lady.” He exhaled as slow as possible, trying not to think of his cousin, the funeral, and keeping his emotions inside.

“
In Alden’s name, we pray now for Rosana and baby Savanno Bradswellen…”
Garret made the sign of the cross on his chest, and everyone took a knee that could
as he led them in prayer
.
“…may your grace and love shine upon us
Lord
, on this birth of a child, and we thank you
for all you have given us
. Please
God in heaven, father of
sacrifice, protect Rosana-
--“

Kaya swung open the flaps of the t
ent, startling everyone inside.
“Lord Cristoff, come quick!”

“What is it, Lady Kaya, Rosana is about to---“

“It’s Dalliun, my lord, and
, and…
you have to come
. One of ours has been attacked
…
they must know we are here.”
Kaya turned fast as Cristoff bolted past her.
Drodunn left as well, then Brunnwik. They did not get more than a few feet out.

Dwarven soldiers gathered around and then parted for the lewirja friend of Tannek Anduvann. Men of Shanador watched in awe, and the army of Harlaheim stared, as a single beam of sunlight broke the clouds in front of the four legged lion-man, Dalliunn, who was carrying a blood covered dwarf toward the tents.

Tannek ran out first, axe raised, looking around to see who had hurt one of his men. Cristoff and Kaya followed,
then Brunnwik and Drodunn knelt to attend to him, all the while they searched the foothills and horizon for the enemy.

“Who the hells told ye’ to scout out alone then? Dammit, and where be yer’ armor and boots…who done this to ye’ then, soldier?” Tannek froze as he did a double glance down. He had not sent any scouts out into the foothills, and this dwarf had a black beard, not red.

“His throat be
clawed and
torn out somethin’ fierce, face and back cut up terrible too. Dalliunn, set him down now.” Drodunn pulled out his hammer and moons, started to pray, then saw that the wounds were already healed to a
small
degree. The dwarf was struggling, he did not want to lay down, likely in shock.

“How did he survive? Look at all this blood, here.” Brunnwik knelt and inspected, saw all the dried blood, and despite the massive tears and claw marks
across his neck, he was not bleeding
. “Hold him down men, hold him hard, so we can save his life now. Probably never speak again, but---”

Dalliunn was tryi
ng to say something, raising the
warhammer. Drodunn was holding this dwarf down so they could pray for some healing. Brunnwik had started praying as other dwarves tried to get in to assist in keeping him still. Tannek was shouting orders for scouts to search the foothills. Cristoff and Kaya leaned over and started asking questions. It was a suffocating commotion, and Azenairk Thala
naxe had not the voice to emit
more than a faint whisper that no one would hear.

With all the energy he had left, he threw a cross right into Drodunn, then a left
fist
into Brunnwik, and slammed his helmed head into the chest of Tannek. All three dwarves fell back, just enough for him to get to his feet. Dwarves gripped his legs and arms, trying to hold him back down to be
healed, assuming he was in delusion
. Zen grabbed
the
shield
of Mudren Sheldathain
from the side of Dalliunn, took off his helm, and reached for a waterskin from a soldier.

“Fine, fine, tough lil’ bastard then? Let him drink first, then hold him down, he….he…
oh by Vundren’s Holy Heart!
”
Tannek stepped back and he felt tears in his eyes.

The water washed all over his shaved head, down his face and black trimmed beard. He wiped his face and wiped hard, then shook his head,
and
tossed the waterskin to the ground. He reached for the warhammer he traded to Dalliunn, and took it. H
e pounded it three times to the cross crescent shield
and glared at the dwarves before him.
He looked to them each as everyone stopped and stared, then glared to Cristoff, then to Kaya T’vellon. His eyes went across to Sir Codaius, he could not believe that they were here. And, by the looks on their faces, they
could not believe it was him. Azenairk
nodded to Tannek Anduvann, and pointed with his weapon toward the ruins.

“
It’s King Thalanaxe
, by Vundren’s grace, ye’ be alive.” Drodunn stared, as did Brunnwik beside him
, both forgetting the punches they just received
.

“
What..what…happened me king…? I, brought yer’ armor, and some…men…to ye
.
Is it you then?
”
Tannek stumbled for words as he fell to a knee. His lewirja friend patted him on the shoulder. “
Dalliunn found ye’, didn’t’ he then?”

Dalliunn nodded to Zen, then to Tannek. The former marshall looked at the bloody mess of Zen
and his martial composure was broken, he let the tears fall silently down his face. He wiped quick and sniffled as he took a knee before his new king. The other dwarves followed, all kneeling as they rushed in close.
“Me king
, tell us what has happened
.”

Zen handed back the warhammer to the lewirja, nodded, and patted him on the head. He touched his neck, and shook his head
to the no
.

“
Aye, y
e’
cannot speak, we will get the priests on that rightly then.
But, ye be alive,
me king
.” Tannek looked behind him, to his dwarven sergeants, and nodded to them. They ran fast into the encampment. “We got somethin’ for ye, aye we do.”

Three more times did Zen pound
the steel shield with his fist
and point
ed
into the ruins, his expression serious
as the grave
,
and tears were in his eyes. He looked frustrated, sad, and worried.
Then he grabbed his warhammer back, and pounded more.

“What’s he sayin?” Drodunn tried to see clearly, as now nearly one thousand men and dwarves were surro
unding them, all trying to get
a look.

“
Vu……vu……vu…..!”
Zen whispered as loud as he could, tryi
ng to speak, pounding his fist
to his shield. With so much noise, it was impossible to be heard.

Cristoff spoke over the co
mmotion, seeing that Zen wanted to speak. “
Silence!”
His armor, enchanted as it was, echoed
his voice
throughout the camp and caravan behind. Everyone quieted, man and dwarf alike.
Even the lewirja stopped chattering.

Zen nodded to Cristoff, then tapped his hammer three times hard to his shield, and whispered , exaggerating his mouth as he spoke, as loud as his injuries allowed. His eyes were still tearing, thinking of his friends inside the ruins, not one mile west of here.

“
Vu….vuum…..vuumb…..er.”
He pounded wildly on his shield, then grabbed his hammer and moons, praying that they would understand.
It came out faint, just a whisper on the wind.