The Reborn King (Book Six) (19 page)

“Are you saying that you are not mortal?” asked Gewey.

“We are old,” she replied. “But not as old as Felsafell. More than that, I cannot say without permission.”

“Why not?”

“The secrets of this place are ours to keep. If humans and elves were to discover them, they would surely come here and slaughter us.”

“I think you underestimate them,” Felsafell said. “True, both races have been barbaric at times. But I think you would find they are much different now from what you once knew.”

“Perhaps,” she admitted. “But it is a risk we are not willing to take.”

“Why tell us anything?” asked Nehrutu. “Certainly you must fear that we shall tell people once we depart.”

She laughed maliciously. “You seem confident that you will be
allowed
to leave.”

Her ominous words stiffened Gewey's attention. He listened closely as she continued.

“Your sentence will likely be death, elf. So too will Darshan’s, should he prove to be false. As for Felsafell, though we cannot kill him, we
can
imprison him for time without end.”

“Then if you intend to kill me anyway,” said Nehrutu, “I would like to know more about you.  How did you come to be here, and how did you arrive in my land?”

Cloya looked to Grunyal, who nodded his consent.

“Very well,” she said. “Seeing as you are the condemned, I will tell you what I feel is your right to know. Once I am done, Yasir will speak. After that…then we will see what happens.”

Nehrutu nodded his acceptance. Gewey’s tension was rising. In spite of what Felsafell had told him, he could not – would not - allow things to end like this. He would find a way out. Even if it meant a fight.

“Our people have dwelled here since the time of the first born,” Cloya began. “From where we originated, we do not know. My first memories are of these jungles, as are the memories of all of us. It was here we learned of the Creator and of the well-spring.”

“The well-spring?” Gewey asked.

“You have seen what the elves call the Waters of Shajir?”

He nodded.

“They originate from this land. But here they are far more potent. It is through the well-spring that our life is maintained. Here, we know nothing of sickness and death. It allows us to become one with the land and hear the voice of the trees and earth.”

“I can understand why you would want to keep such a thing secret,” remarked Felsafell. “Eternal life and perpetual health is a temptation very few mortals could resist.”

“Which is why Gerath gave us his protection. Without it, we would have been destroyed long ago. Though we had nothing the
first born
desired, their children, and later the humans, were selfish brutes. They would stop at nothing, commit any atrocity, to extend their short, meaningless lives.”

“This explains the long life of the desert elves,” Nehrutu said thoughtfully. “It must be extended by the Waters of Shajir.”

“Yes,” Cloya agreed. “Even diluted and so far removed from its source, the well-spring would still be able to extend mortal life to some measure.”

“But I don’t understand why you hate the elves,” Gewey said. “If my father has sealed you away like this, what harm could they have done to you?”

Cloya looked across to Yasir and nodded.

He took up the story, venom dripping from each word. “Long ago, a group of us decided to venture forth from the mountains. Our brothers and sisters begged us to stay, but we were convinced that the people of the world were not the savages Gerath made them out to be. We had been here on our own for so long and desired to know what the world was like beyond our borders. But we were fools.”

He paused for a moment. “Humans saw us as monsters and drove us away. But they could do us no harm as long as we didn’t allow them to corner us. In any case, they were still little more than animals, living in grass huts and hunting wild game to survive. They had nothing to offer us as a culture. So we moved west.”

His eyes bored into Nehrutu. “The elves had yet to cross the great water. We had been told of their existence by Gerath and were anxious to meet them. So we built boats and sought them out. But what we found was not friendship and acceptance. No! The only thing we found was blood.”

His giant hands were clenched and his voice was quickly becoming a feral growl.

“They viewed us just as the humans did…as monsters. They hunted us, delighting in our pleas for mercy. And without the well-spring, we could no longer heal ourselves as we once did. We tried to return home, but they cut us off from the sea. In desperation, we fled into the depths of the jungle where they would not follow. Only
I
managed to escape and make it back home. As for the rest of my people…they remain there, hunted and reviled. From what you have told us, they have long since lost all sense of who they are.”

Nehrutu bowed his head and shut his eyes. “I am sorry for what my kin have visited upon you. I truly am. And you are right to demand justice. Should my life be the price my people must pay for their crimes, I offer it willingly.”

“You cannot offer what you no longer possess, elf,” Yasir spat. “Your life belongs to me. And know that I will take as much pleasure in hearing your screams as your kind did when hearing those of my people.”

His words were followed by a long silence. Gewey’s mind was racing, seeking a way out of their perilous situation. They had not been disarmed, and he was confident that they could fight their way out of the room.

“I can see your intent, Darshan,” said Grunyal. “But know this. Even should you kill all three of us, there are hundreds more waiting beyond that door. And as you are cut off from the power of heaven here, I doubt you would find escape a viable option.”

“I cannot allow this,” Gewey protested. “Nehrutu has done nothing to you. These crimes you speak of were committed long before he was born. And by people of whom he has no knowledge.”

“That is not true,” Nehrutu cut in. “Though I had no knowledge of their origins, to this day my people still hunt the yetulu. And though I have never hunted them myself, I have never objected to it either. But I swear we thought them to be mindless animals who raided our villages simply for the sake of killing. Had we known, we would have done our best to make things right. I swear to you that we are not the same people we once were.”

Yasir sniffed. “Your words are meaningless. And you will not escape your punishment.”

“That is not my intent,” Nehrutu told him. “It is clear that you will not be dissuaded. And my reason for our being here far outweighs the value of my own life. I would not jeopardize the fate of the world in a futile attempt to flee. Do as you will. But do so knowing that I am truly sorry.”

“Would you have your vengeance, even at the cost of your people?” Felsafell suddenly asked.

Grunyal fixed his gaze. “What do you mean?”

“Your people are still being hunted in Nehrutu’s land. Without the well-spring, those left behind are likely long dead. But they obviously had offspring. And those offspring are your people too. Would you leave them to continue being hunted and killed?”

“And how can I stop it?” he challenged.

“Allow Nehrutu to return to his home,” Felsafell suggested. “Let him tell his kin the truth about your people. He need not reveal anything other than the fact that they are not beasts. He could try to return them to you.”

Yasir let out a sarcastic laugh. “You expect me to trust an elf?” He shook his head and sneered. “No. I have this one in my grasp, and I will not let him go.”

“If you will not accept the word of an elf,” Gewey cut in, “then accept the word of Darshan, son of Gerath. Once my task is complete, I will personally see that your people are returned to you. But only if you do not harm Nehrutu.
And
you must allow Felsafell to leave unhindered.”

Grunyal sat back and rubbed his furry chin. “An interesting proposal. That is, if you prove yourself to truly be Darshan.”

“You cannot be considering this!” Yasir shouted furiously. “You cannot let them go! I demand justice! It is my right!”

“You can have your justice,” Felsafell pointed out. “Or you can have your people home and safe. You cannot have both. You must decide which is more important.”

Yasir continued to fume as he met Felsafell's eyes. “He will betray us, Grunyal. Even if our people return, he will lead the humans and elves here.”

“He has a point,” Grunyal said, turning again to Gewey. “What prevents you from telling people of our home?”

“Nothing...nothing but my word. But I will promise you this: once heaven is opened and your people are safe, I will erase the knowledge from the minds of both Felsafell and Nehrutu. They will never know they were even here. And the protection you have enjoyed from my father will endure through me.”

After a long pause, Grunyal pushed back his chair and stood. “We need time to consider your offer.”

Cloya rose as well, but Yasir remained seated, his eyes burning with rage and hands still balled into massive fists.

“Come, Yasir,” said Grunyal. “We must speak alone.”

With a hiss of hatred, Yasir got abruptly to his feet, sending his chair slamming against the wall. With a final hard look, he spun around to storm past Grunyal and out of the door.

“We will return, though I cannot say when,” Grunyal told Gewey. “I will have food and drink sent in shortly.”

That said, he and Cloya left the chamber.

“Do you think they will agree?” Gewey asked.

Felsafell shrugged. “I hope so. I could think of nothing else to offer them.”

Nehrutu was staring down at the tabletop, his hands still folded in front of him. “I understand Yasir’s anger. I would feel the same if someone had hunted and killed my people.”

“What happened to the yetulu was a long time ago,” Gewey told him. “And the poor creatures you know as Morzhash are totally unlike the yetulu here.”

“I am not so sure.” He looked up at Gewey. “We discovered that they possess a crude language. And we should have guessed that their attacks had a purpose. But we could not see beyond their appearance. To us they were animals. And we hunted them as such.”

“There is no use in dwelling on that,” Felsafell said. “If they agree, you can only do what you can to help them now.”

A few minutes later the door opened and a yetulu entered carrying a large bottle and a bowl of fruits – none of which were familiar to Gewey. Without a word, he or she unceremoniously tossed both onto the table and departed.

Gewey picked up a round purple fruit and took a small bite. Thick juice squirted to the back of his throat, filling his mouth with a tart flavor that reminded him of a lemon, though with a slightly sweeter taste. The bottle was filled with cool water, but with no cups, they were soon passing it from hand to hand like wine around a campfire.

After they had eaten, Felsafell carried his chair back to its original position against the wall. Once settled there, he reached into his pack and retrieved a pipe. Soon the room was filled with an earthy smell that completely overwhelmed the pungent aroma from the leftover juices of their meal that, in spite of their efforts to be neat, had utterly soaked the tabletop.

Gewey searched through his own pack and found a rag. While attempting to clean the mess, he began to laugh inwardly.
Lessons of my father
, he thought.
Never leave a mess when you’re a guest in someone's home
.

More than two hours passed before the door opened once again. Cloya entered alone and took a seat at the table, frowning when her eyes fell on the stains left behind from the meal. Gewey gave her a crooked, embarrassed smile. But this quickly vanished when Grunyal came in a moment later and sat down.

“Yasir will not be joining us,” he said. “But he has agreed to your terms and will forgo justice.”

“That is, assuming you can prove yourself to be the son of Gerath,” added Cloya.

Nehrutu's relief was clearly visible. “Thank you.”

“Do not thank me,” said Grunyal. “It was Cloya who swayed Yasir, not I.”

Nehrutu bowed his head to Cloya.

“You say I must prove myself,” Gewey remarked. “How do you propose I do that?”

“Easily.” Grunyal's lips crept up into a vicious smile. “You must tame the Ajagara.”

“The Ajagara? What is that?” Gewey frowned, sensing a trap. Whatever they had in mind, it would almost certainly be deadly.

Grunyal chuckled. “I believe you encountered its children inside the mountain.”

“Its children? You mean those lizards we fought were just…” 

“They are but adolescents,” Cloya said, mirroring Grunyal’s malicious grin. “The parent is much larger.”

“How large exactly?”

“What does it matter?” she replied. “If you are indeed the son of Gerath, its size should not be a problem for you. And if you intend to attain the god stones, you will need to pass through the Ajagara’s feeding grounds anyway. So now you can save your friends, and complete your task at the same time.”

Grunyal and Cloya rose, both still smiling. Just before they reached the door, Grunyal glanced over his shoulder. “You have until morning to prepare. And you will go alone.”