The Vlakan King (Book 3) (12 page)

"Yes, I can use them," said Baer Patros. "I will write up the tasks they could help with and bring it to you, sire. We will need every hand available."

"Very good. Baer see to it. Nar go with Artus and plan a combined attack with War Mages."

"War Mages?" Nar Tomak looked at Artus. "Truly?"

"We are still training them." He resisted a glance at the High King. "I explain their abilities to you while we form the battle plan."

"That is excellent, sire," said Nar Tomak. "I am much relieved."

"Good. That is all gentlemen. Bring me daily reports. Taina, return in an hour. I will have a letter for Kerreth."

The Daerlan and the Men bowed and left the High King alone. He sat at his desk and stared across the room, running his forehead with his thumb.

"War mages. I hope Aulan is wrong about them. Oh Artus, what have I got us into?"

He summoned his secretary to prepare a letter to Kerreth Veralier. After it was dictated Armana requested a scout brought to him. The slender man bowed and stood silent until the High King acknowledged him.

"Ah Althos, I was hoping it would be you." Armana looked directly at the scout.

"Sire, what is my charge?"

"Find Raeind and bring him to me."

Althos bowed and departed. Armana stood at his window until his wife came looking for him in the late evening.

The forest had scared him and he kept to the edge of it; straddling the rocky reaches of the desert terrain and the cooling shade of the trees. A great river once divided the Toraba Forest from the Koberi desert but it dried up centuries ago. The deep river bed allowed for some relief from the heat of the day. Ian kept moving through the rocky river bed, driven by something he couldn't name. He could not remember leaving Peradon; he blacked out several times only to awaken in some new place. He knew he was heading north to the sea but he could not say why.

The forest was dangerous; he could sense the power within it. It watched him; alert and tense. He sensed movement in the forest keeping pace with him and there was power emanating from the presence. Ian wasn't sure how he knew but he sensed it. Whatever was happening to him heightened his senses. It was difficult to remember his children's faces; he told himself it was just his exhaustion but on one level he feared it was more than that. Was it the curse of Celaeri blood; was he turning into a Vlakan?

Had to keep moving, keep going, he told himself. The presence in the woods was dangerous to him and he couldn't stop to give it the opportunity to hurt him. He pushed on.

He focused on the next step and pushed forward. Soon he blacked out again.

To see Kerreth Veralier in the flesh is a shock; you stop in your tracks, unsure of what to do next in fact incapable of deciding on a course of action. Perhaps not a notion to include in a historical record but it is dry and intellectual exercise to record his description. Kerreth stands six and a half feet tall, nearly four hundred pounds and as quick as a cat. He favored a horned helmet made from the skull of some forgotten creature. But as you look up at him to the braided red beard and long mustache it is the tusks jutting up from his lower lip that jolts you; a feral creature from a forgotten past that reminds you that gods did once walk among us.

From Gerrand's Histories of Landermass.

Brevin's wagon bounced over the hardened ruts and rocks on the road west and Davan regretted not running away when the trip was suggested. His tailbone ached and twice he bit his tongue when the wagon wheels found a dip in the road. Each attempt to lose him in the views of the countryside was interrupted by the rough ride. Davan had never traveled more than two days from Peradon and never this far west. His father took him to some of the other free cities but they had no business traveling west. Until the road reached Calendia the closest country was Mordyn and it was not a safe place. It would take a couple days to reach Paglo, the land of the Tuors. The small folk were secretive and did not let Men enter without permission. The Tuors were deadly archers.

Davan tried to grasp the speed of his changing situation. Jaele packed him up in a heartbeat; there were packs ready to go as if she expected the need for a quick getaway someday. She barked orders to the men in the inn and several ran out into town. Marqal, the mercenary leader and a few of his men hurried to the inn and Jaele told them she needed security as only herself and Tara would remain. The men nodded and posted guards around the inn. Brevin directed the extra supplies to be loaded in his wagon and waited for Davan to say his goodbyes. His mother hugged and kissed him and Tara punched him in the arm when he tried to hug her. He walked to the wagon and Tara ran up behind him and hugged his back. She was running back to Jaele by the time he turned around.

"Do you have any children, Brevin?"

"Ha! Why would I want the noisy little things? No. Never married. I'm never in one place very long and most of my time is spent in this wagon. The life suits me."

"You always knew my parents' history, that they were mercenaries?"

"I did. Sometimes I work for the Talos Company, delivering messages, watching for certain people. I was asked to stop in and see your folks every time I was in the area even if I had no business in Peradon. And I have done so many times. I do like Ian's ale and Jaele is awful pretty. It's a good place to stop. Good food and good service. Sometimes I wish I didn't have to leave."

The wagon jolted again and Davan groaned.

"Don't worry," said Brevin. "You'll never get used to it unless your backside is broad and padded like mine."

"Great. I think my insides are all jumbled around. Brevin, I've heard children's stories of the Talos Company all my life. Do you know their real story? How they began and are they as unbeatable in battle as the stories say?"

"Whew! That's a lot to cover and we have only a few days of travel. I'll have to stick to the highlights. The worst part is we don't have any cold ale. I don't like warm ale.

"Altair Talos was asked by King Navir of the Daerlan to put together a squad of fighters that could go anywhere in the world. They were to sever connections to friends and family, traveling in search of the evils of the Jungeguds. Navir had a long-going struggle with the Menaloch, one of the Jungeguds who tried to subvert the Daerlan to his will on several occasions. Anyway, Altair Talos and his brother Gorm began looking for candidates for this squad. Altair's daughter Taina joined, as did a few other Daerlan. Within the year the other Daerlan were killed leaving just the three of them.

"One day they came upon a battle of goblins and a large man in a clearing near the tree line in Calendia. They watched the man easily kill each and every one of his two dozen opponents. He then walked over to them and asked for water. Then he thanked them for not getting in the way. He was very tall and as broad as two men. His beard was braided, as was his hair. The helmet on his head was made from a skull of some creature the Daerlan had never seen. But the most unusual aspect of him were the tusks, each about the size of a man's thumb, jutting out from his lower lip. He told them he was part Man, part Zidar but the Daerlan had never known a Zidar with tusks. Altair invited him to join the company and he agreed. After a year Altair turned the leadership over to Kerreth Veralier. Kerreth knew some others who might be worthy of the squad and sent word to them. Several accepted the invitation. Your Uncle Loric was one of them."

"How long ago was this? Navir hasn't been king of the Daerlan for eons."

They were out of the forested areas crossing the arid land sound of Mordyn. The horses kicked up dust and Brevin's throat was drying out. The air warmed considerably.

"I can't say for sure, maybe three thousand years. I believe the Daerlan had left Arda and crossed the sea to Liannest by then. Remember none of the leaders of the Talos Company are Men. Those who may have human blood have very little of it or are sustained by their magic such as Blackthorne. He is very old and human or he once was. The sorcery he uses has changed him over the centuries. Stay away from magic Davan, if you can. The magic of a mage would be safe enough but a mage is no match for a sorcerer or even a wizard."

"I don't want any magic. I just want to find my father."

"Of course you do. And the Talos Company will help. "

"Who are the members now? Do you know?" asked Davan. The wagon jolted again and the pressure in his bladder increased.

"Kerreth and Loric of course. Taina Talos and her daughter Moria Albalen, Hobart Hufflen who is a Tuor, Dvorak Annis who is a wizard and Navir."

"Navir? The king of the Daerlans? He must be five thousand years old!"

"Former king of the Daerlans."

"Is that all? Just the seven of them? I would have thought there were more. The stories named many others."

"Even the Talos Company can die in battle. There were many members over the years that have aged or died or just lost interest and left the company. Do not judge them by their numbers. The company does include human soldiers but they usually aren't part of the stories."

"I was just surprised that's all."

"I understand. Well, another hour then we stop for the night. If you don't mind I'll end the story here; my throat is getting scratchy. Would you like some mulled wine?"

"I've never had it." He took the bag from Brevin and took a long pull. Brevin watched him closely. Davan coughed and spit out most the wine. "I don't like the taste."

"Ha! I couldn't tell for sure. I hate it myself."

"Then why did you give it to me?" asked Davan indignantly.

"I didn't know you wouldn't like it. I was going to throw it out. Have you tried brandy?" Brevin pulled a dusty bottle out of a box under the seat.

"Once when my parents weren't around. Our customers don't drink it but Father had a bottle hidden under the counter. I didn't mind that."

"Here have a sip of this," said Brevin. "It has a nice flavor in my opinion."

Davan took a sip while watching Brevin who feigned innocence.

"Oh, I feel it burning. My chest is warming up."

"Keeps you warm on a chilly night. And it feels like the wind is picking up. There's nothing on this plain to block the wind except us. The wind will cut through the wagon and us if it finds skin. Pull your blankets tight tonight."

The last part of the day's journey was smoother and Davan enjoyed the ride finally although the scenery was less interesting. The land was brown and flat for many miles. He saw a herd of animals off to the south but they were too far away to identify.

After a hot meal they sat down in the back of the wagon where Brevin had made room. The thin wood panels and canvas roof rattled in the breeze. Davan pulled his blankets up and his hat down. He did not feel the bite of the wind anymore.

"Brevin, do you know why my mother had supply packs ready? I mean, there was no warning that I would be taking this trip with you."

"It was sudden I agree."

"Have my parents always known they might have to leave home suddenly? Have they carried this fear with them all my life?"

The trader sighed.

"I can't speak with any certainty but if the Talos Company wanted me to keep an eye on them, then there was unfinished business elsewhere or at least a chance of trouble turning up. Me, I did not know any more about your parents' involvement with the Celaeri War than you did. However, I knew Loric visited your family and knew there was a connection. I just kept my eyes open and listened but there was little to indicate more than Loric was merely befriending long lost relatives."

"Do you know much about the Celaeri?"

"I know some, but I am not sure what is legend and what is fact. The Celaeri once ruled the area we call Cresida on Amloth. A race similar to Daerlan in their stature, strength and speed however their coloring was much different. Loric looks very close to the descriptions I have heard but he is perhaps a paler shade of blue than full blood Celaeri. When Men migrated across the channel from Anavar to Amloth the Celaeri allowed them to share the land with them. This lasted many generations of Men until Jerue Adan became king of the Celaeri. He was determined to expand the influence of the Celaeri. The Men they once coexisted with became slaves for the warlike Celaeri. The kingdom of Calendia led an army from Anavar to free the Men of Cresida. There were many great warriors in the battle and only the great number of soldiers from Anavar turned the tide. The Celaeri soldier was no match for one or two Men with a sword, but this time the Celaeri were outnumbered twenty to one. At last they were defeated and gave up their weapons. In defeat, Jerue Adan led his people north to a wild area called the Black Health. There they remained for generations until the year before your brother Aravan was born. The Celaeri began to creep out of the dark places again."

"You make them sound otherworldly," said Davan.

"They are now. Some of them entered a shadow world; another plane of existence. It is somehow connected with the Vlakan."

"What are the Vlakan? Is that what my father is turning into?"

Brevin looked across in the darkness at the young man who now sounded very young and afraid. Brevin knew this would not be an easy trial for Davan and the direction of the rest of his life depended on how he dealt with the path ahead. Davan's path might lead him to creatures and dangers most boys only dreamt about. Those same boys would wilt in the face of those dangers. Would Davan?

"I don't know much about the Vlakan. They are related to Celaeri or are Celaeri transformed by what, I don't know. I think the fear your mother feels is that the blood of Celaeri your father carries has the taint of the Vlakan in it. It was said Dacu Belderag, the former Lord of Gornst changed into a Vlakan, but I don't know the truth of that because he was Men to my knowledge."

"What does a Vlakan look like?"

"I'm not sure and I'm tired. We have trading to do tomorrow and a long way to go yet."

"Where are we trading?"

"Paglo."