Knight In White Satin - Chapter Eleven

Uhnara slept soundly for the first night in more years that she could remember. Not an old woman and certainly not a child, she found her night filled with dreams she dared not repeat. In every moment she saw the face of the young king Narvakhan. His strength of presence, his command and muscular body, closer in her age and form than the Droga had been.

It wasn’t that she didn’t love him, but it was not a love of choice, but rather a love of duty and station. His kindness was rare and typically short lived. Droga had been a man more in love with power than with a woman. Even a substantially younger woman like Uhnara couldn’t seem to tear him from his plotting and planning. It was this plotting and planning that left him without passion of flesh or lust of body.

She had always assumed this was simply part of his station. She could not reflect on her own people for she was long from Tova. A Rhiyan by birth, but a Southern woman by company and residence. Uhnara was never told how she came into service and future mate for Droga; it simply wasn’t her place to question such things. Beside what child at five would even begin to understand the concepts of Lords and Ladies and the delicate balance marriages and unions provided in the political arena.

Yet it was passion denied that quickened her pulse and caused her to steal smiles in private as she held tightly the dreams of this young King of the South. There was physical passion in his eyes. His body moved with a conviction and strength she had never seen. Constantly she had to hide her face for fear she would be seen. An act she had already failed in. Rune had seen her. A childhood companion and now private maiden glared at her when she saw Uhnara staring at the “Bully who stole our Lord”.

None of that mattered to Uhnara. Certainly the events disturbed her, but it was far more civilized and clear action compared to some of the events she had witnessed at Droga’s hand. Considering General Kiv accepted this King and his actions, there had to be some merit. She had always trusted the general and his execution of duties to be fair and just beyond anything the court offered. She smiled as she remembered sharing the general’s bed before she was married to Droga. He had been a man she felt was fueled by physical passion, only to be a lonely old man once they were alone.

No, this king was different than Kiv, different than Droga. They had moments. This man simply existed in the state. In the weeks that passed since Droga’s public execution in the Court Hall, Uhnara was able to watch the King act to his court and to the common people. He was loving, patient and listened with earnest. Several times she had heard him apologize for being gone so long. It was all intoxicating to her. Once again a smile filled her as she recounted her previous dreams of him that caused her to wake with a body full of sweat, labored breathing and a weakness from head to toe. He indeed gave her good dreams.

“Not even yet cold is your husband and walk around like a smitten hand maiden. It simply isn’t fitting a lady Uhnara. Have you no shame!” Rune had entered Uhnara’s private chambers without making a sound and began her duties of rising her lady for the new day.

When in private they always addressed each other as equals. A fact Uhnara wished wasn’t true at the moment. It would be much easier to simply have her keep her thoughts and observations to herself and leave Uhnara to her enjoyable lusts.

“My thoughts are my own Rune. That is where they will remain.” Uhnara turned to try to keep the thoughts and smile private.

“He has a pretty face, doesn’t change the fact that he is a bully. A bully that took the Lord Droga from us. A bully that took your husband!” Rune continued to press her views.

“Oh Rune, leave me be!” Uhnara sat heavily and exasperated. “It is not as if he found himself awake in my bed this morning!”

“You wouldn’t!” Rune exclaimed.

“I certainly wouldn’t mind it. Have you not seen the way he moves. The strength that openly pulses about him.” Uhnara fanned herself as she felt her cheeks suddenly flush.

“As I said, he has a pretty face. But you have a duty. What will you do?”

Rune had hit the subject Uhnara didn’t even want to begin to think about. Never did she want to rule a house and be responsible to a land she never previously took an interest in. What did she know of coin value, diplomatic protocols or the art of war. Droga taught her none of this. She was always at his side; his trophy. When he wanted to release himself with her, she accepted it and completed her duty. She was never with child and thus had no training as a mother.

“I say you send them all away to the South where they belong. This war with the Ministry simply isn’t our business. Long before we were born they started fighting and the only time we experience problems are when one or the other shows up to exert their authority.” Rune attended to her chores as she continued.

“What do we know of their politics and laws. This magic, never have I seen it. So why must I be bothered with it at all.”

“I have you know.” Uhnara suddenly answered softly as she stared into space.

“When?” Rune asked, stopping to sit next to Uhnara to hear her story.

“Kiv.”

“I never saw this. When did you see Kiv with this ‘magic’?” Rune smiled now almost bouncing up and down on the chair. “Old Kiv and magic. Oh that just doesn’t match now does it?”

“We were in the courtyard. Droga was meeting with that woman from Hnarn that regularly visited. I went to visit Kiv after I caught him eyeing me in the courtyard. We had a single between us for years.” Uhnara continued to look off into space.

“He is a good lover. I have to admit to that, I am glad you convinced us.” Rune shot her a look. Uhnara responded with a smile.

“I know good partnering when I see it Ru.”

“So, after the courtyard?”

“I couldn’t meet him right away. Droga was holding an essembly with some others that arrived with the priestess. Like always I sat beside him and daydreamed. None of them even acknowledged me, even if I had bells in my hair.”

Both shared a quick and short laugh.

“So I went late to Kiv. I remember seeing his long hair unbraided. I used to love the way it flowed.” Uhnara recalled.

“I like it short like it is now. His hair hasn’t been long for years now.”

“No it was the first year I was married. I was still very young. You know it was Droga that made him cut his hair. Something about he lost the honor to keep his hair long. But back then it was still long and quite lovely.” Uhnara paused for a moment. “I was so hurt to see him there, naked writhing against that priest. But more than that, I was jealous. His hands glowed as if a fire was lit in them. Hers were too. In anger I raged into the room and screamed at him. He was my playmate, not hers. I still remember seeing her body knowing mine was finer than hers. Yet still he chose her that night. When he saw me standing there, he clasped his hands together and almost instantly the flames were gone. She however was rather cruel. Somehow without touching me, I was thrown to the wall. When I tried to turn my head away, I found I couldn’t. Staring at me while I stared at him, she toyed with his body, doing things I had never seen before.”

“You never told me this!” Rune exclaimed as she suddenly stood up. “How many women has Kiv bedded?”

“Oh stop it Dru.” Uhnara flashed a glare at her friend and maid. “You didn’t care before, you don’t care now other than to grieve him into doing something nice for you. I never returned to his bed from there. It was that next day his hair was cut by Droga’s order. Since then I avoided the priest when she came to visit and I certainly stayed away from Kiv. Part of me wanted to go back and have him show me this fire, but anytime I thought about it, I could only see that woman and what she was doing to him.”

“You know this King of the South has magic?” Rune started returning to her duties. “Kiv told me just last night. Called him gifted and said he was strong with it. Stronger than anyone he had ever seen.”

Uhnara became very quiet again as her dreams resurfaced. In those dreams he was bathed in a fire that didn’t consume or burn, but was an extention of him. Softly she moaned in memory.

“I suppose you will open your legs for him soon enough. A young man like that, doubt he could control himself if he wanted.” The maid commented as she fluffed and arranged the blankets on the lady’s bed. “I imagine we will need to redecorate this room now that the Lord of Droga is no more. Could be a nice change, perhaps a bit more color to fit your dresses and such.”

Uhnara had already started to ignore her. She wanted this King. She wanted him as an object of her craving. Would he speak to her of such with any interest. Purposely she avoided the various audiences offered with him to discuss the affairs of the lands now under her control. She knew sooner or later she would have to meet with him and talk with him.

This King of the South, this Narvakhan, this was the man she wanted to take residence in her bed. For this she would give him anything. Whatever it would take to feel his passion and be a part of it she would do. Never in her life had a man resisted her, why would he be different? She was young still, close to his age. They would find a unique bond in age and she would do what the priest had done to take Kiv from her. She would then have what she always wanted, something that was hers and hers alone.

****

“You have read the message?” Nohric had joined the King of the South and immediately noticed the longing look on his face. “It is from the royal Mother then?”

Narvakhan paced in reflection. Once Nohric told him of the duties and the history of the southern realms, it was only a matter of time before his mother sent him summons or a note. Now that it had arrived he found himself torn. Torn for the duties he had to attend coupled with his growing emotions and attachments to those around him.

While she tried to remain unnoticed, he easily caught the advances and the eyes that would not let him go. Her eyes pierced him which took him by surprise. They had much to discuss, yet he simply wasn’t ready to face Uhnara. Within him, Narvakhan could almost taste the haunting ghost of Ahryn that continued to toy with the thoughts that should be his alone. It was as if he was unable to breath or feel anything when the thoughts swam in his head. Could he feel something more than a basic attraction for this woman that almost seemed to hound him from a distance. More worrisome it was as if all that he found of himself he was losing.

Ovijah had warned him that opening himself to the feelings and thoughts of others could lead to erratic thoughts and dreams to the point of being taken over. The King of the South felt this now, yet he could not ask for the council of his sister as he struggled to work the feelings out and place them where they belonged in his duties and in his person. The similarity between this woman and his memories of Ahryn made him think both woman were inside of him.

Without a word he handed a letter to Nohric and dismissed him. He doubted Nohric would even need to read to letter to know its contents. No longer could he extend his stay and no longer could he avoid the woman that was stirring his emotions into a frenzy. Beyond his person he knew there was a duty he must perform. As he waited, Narvakhan could only continue to pace.

Thought by thought he began to dissect the feelings and found where their natural place resided and where his feelings, Narvakhan’s waited for his attentions. There was such a crossing of everything, he was indeed falling into a pool of cluttered thoughts that wanted only to drown his own out. His natural defenses wanted him to accept what was in front of him without regard to his true desires. It was the seed of destruction Ahryn had planted and wanted him to be a slave too.

In mere moments Uhnara arrived full of her smiles and perfumes. As the moment passed, his mind became clear. Closing a door to her mind and allowing his own power to not permeate the entire room but rather to leave him with clear thoughts, Narvakhan knew exactly what he must do.

“Lady Uhnara, Duchess of Northeast Barony, I pray your forgiveness at the delays that have stalled our conversation. I regret to inform you, I must ready my leave and attend to several personal affairs as well as to the affairs of the rest of my lands. Droga was meant to be my first stop, not my only stop.” Narvakhan stopped his pacing to look her directly into the eyes allowing his words to sink in properly. In the same instant he mind wanted to reach out and feel her thoughts directly, yet every other part of him screamed for him to shut her out.

“My King, I had hoped you had found a sense of happiness here among your people and if I may be so bold; with me as well.” Stepping closer before he could respond, Uhnara stood close enough for him to smell the mint on her breath and the perfume as it softly floated through his senses. “You must understand there is a difference between an arranged marriage and one that is brought upon by desire. I will wait as long as necessary.”

Taking her hands, Narvakhan carefully and slowly stepped back. Her motives, while unclear, mimicked the actions of Ahyrn too much for him to ignore it. A twing of anger threatened to reveal this fear, yet he breathed deeply to give it calm. The King of the South carefully chose his words as he explained him:

“Lady Uhnara you are a most beautiful woman, certainly worthy of the man of your choice, providing this man is available to you through natural means. I must profess I am not this man.” Hurt was plainly evident within her eyes and upon her lips as they threatened a quiver of sadness. Offering a sincere smile he forced her to wait as he continued. “Before I could even begin to consider such things, I have a duty to my people. Surely you have seen this as I conducted my affairs within your home. In this same duty, I have issued a proclamation and it must stand true. In no way and in no part may any part of Droga’s court be allowed access to my lineage. This would be natural evidence include one so beautiful as yourself.”

“You say such cruel things, I would not have thought them possible from your lips. Surely you do not see me in the same light you found the Lord of Droga?” Threads of anger laced her words as she pulled away.

Narvakhan immediately sensed the ruse hidden amongst the truth of her words. Uhnara was indeed only part genuine, there was more this woman wanted and he simply didn’t’ want any part of such actions.

“You take personal that which is duty. If that is what you must know, then you must know my heart simply cannot reside with you. In all that I do as a man and as the King of the South, I must stand true to who I am. Who I am is not with you, nor can it be.” Still he would not let her leave his vision.

“You continue to wound me. Certainly you understand there is an invitation for you to have me without something so ceremonially charged as marriage. I would most happy to be your consort.” Uhnara seemed to hold back tears. More hurt filled the tone of her words. “Such a thing would still be honorable to my people.”

“Now you simply go too far. I would see us remain upon friendly terms, but not under the terms in which you have stated. I do not wish a consort nor do I wish to place you in such a position. There is nothing more to this. You must respect this is not what I want as a man or King of the South. I would ask you not to force me to proclaim such in an open court. Let this remain between us as it finds us friends and not of intimacy.”

“So you simply reside in my home, avoid me for such a time to insinuate there was more between us only to find some excuse for your departure?” Uhnara walked a distance from him and turned to face him as if she were simply a visitor to his court.

“What would you have me do with your lands and people Dutchess Uhnara? I have no further time for conversations of the heart that you have chosen to create and then ignore their outcome? I will be departing within a day and your answers are most urgent and necessary.” Narvakhan stood opposite of her to his full measure. The tone change in his voice could not be ignored or misunderstood. The King of the South had returned to his official position and nothing else could exist.

“I could refuse.” Uhnara stated flatly.

“You could and that is your option. Should you do so, I shall make the choice for you. I can promise you will not like it.” Narvakhan responded coolly.

“I haven’t liked anything you have said to this point. Why should this be any different?”

“Uhnara, do not do this. You have a chance for a new start and in control of your life. Do not attempt to subject the emotions of another nor your people. Take this freedom and give yourself a chance. I can be your friend, I can be your King. I cannot be your enemy for such would end terribly. I implore you to make your decision.”

With a nod as he spoke, Nohric entered the room with several others as they prepared to notate the official state of Droga. All fell terribly quiet as all waited for Uhnara to respond. Due to the conversation most overheard, the prior whispers fell into an uncomfortable silence for all of them.

“Dismiss them. Let this be between you and I Narvakhan.” Nohric moved to interject yet refrained as the King of the South’s voice filled the room.

Forcefull yet without yelling to the point Uhnara’s posture suddenly shifted almost to the point of retreat. “Uhnara, I will do nothing of the kind. Our private discussion is over. My position is clear enough to state there is no private relationship between the two of us, nor has there been. Yes I too have heard the rumors. That discussion is over, forever. You will either decide the fate and direction of your people, or I will. There is no more time for deliberations or discussions. Simply answer. As your King do not be so familiar with me in public again. The last ruler of Droga learned this lesson the hard way. Am I perfectly clear on this?”

“Yes King of the South. For the people of Droga, we will support your endeavors and accept your decisions on the needs of the royal host. Yet this must be temporary as I have no desire to rule. I would rather take personal freedom to do with as I wish.” Uhnara’s words were quiet and full of hurt as her head and shoulders slouched downward. Even with her face turned downwards the red of embarrassment could be seen easily on her cheeks.

“As you have deemed.” Narvakhan stated. “For the time being and until such time as a suitable replacement is found, you shall remain the ruler of the North East Barony in service to the King of the South. The economic, personal and private issues of your people are yours to decide. Nohric will leave a contingent here to handle all trade and support to the South. All and any agreements or treaties to the north or Rhiyan people are hereby negated and in forfeit. Your military control shall be in accordance to my original decree until such time as I desire.”

“You will be leaving then King Narvakhan?” She asked meekly and with some return of pleading to her eyes as she tried to carefully lift them to meet his gaze.

“While I have enjoyed my time here and would like to return again some day, my duties call me to Hnor and then to visit the other Southern Kingdoms. I retain hope among all the happiness since my arrival, we will find a calm and brotherhood amongst our ruling bodies so as our people may find happiness.”

“Perhaps in this future, we could approach conversations and visits as friends my King?” Uhnara stepped carefully forward, dropped her head again and pleaded.

“I would like that Dutchess Uhnara.” He was short but polite. “Nohric, we leave on morrows light.”

Walking calmly with a peace in his mind, still closing off all other minds, Narvakhan approached Uhnara and offered her a place next to him. As they walked he carefully whispered to her.

“When Ahryn arrives, due send her away, but before you do such, give her this message: She has trained you well from her distance, but do not push me. I have stated I have had enough and at the next test I will leave her people bloody and merciless.”

“But Narvakhan I..” Uhnara quickly tried to respond.

Shaking his head he would hear no more. “Upon my next visit, see all is as we agreed.”

By the next morning, life returned to an eerie quiet as the new Dutchess of the North East Barony, formerly the Droga kingdom; could only sulk as the sun rose.

Knight In White Satin - Chapter Ten

Choosing a settlement a full day out from Droga’s stronghold, Nohric had found the materials and craftsman necessary to create the items Narvakhan had requested. Three days later they were all refitted in new clothing and a travel caravan. Much to everyone’s surprise, Narvakhan too had taken the time to meet with the tailors to create an emblem. Against the jet black Narvakhan wore, the golden dragon upon it took ones breath away and caused him to be stared at. Even his boots had the emblem branded into it. The additional golden trim of his collar, cuffs and lapel made him a sight to behold. Narvakhan opted to keep the hair on his head and face long and wild. It gave him an appearance of controlled fury. Based on the gasps and stares, it was obvious he held the look he had wanted.

For Ovijah and Khelidra he demanded the deepest blues with white accents. In both of them, the long flowing dresses covered the leather under armor. Neither hid the fact they were women. Khelidra’s hair was tied in seven separate bindings, creating a long braid down the middle of her back. In keeping with her traditions and customs small metals rings were attached to her hair. As she moved, they offered the slightest ringing tone, remarkably quiet considering how easily her braid swished.

Preparing to leave, half a dozen approached them for employment. Narvakhan immediately introduced himself and accepted their offers. Hearing him, several knelt before him, while others gave him concerned looks and simply nodded. One woman, their new cook, fell to his feet and wrapped her arms around his knees, thanking Xhuri for his arrival. Looking into her tear streaked face, Narvakhan lifted her, promising the woman he would do all he could for her and the rest of his people. To everyone’s surprise he then begged for her forgiveness for being gone so long while they suffered. It was at that moment several more fell to the ground praising him and thanking him. Each person was greeted by the young King who at each occasion, apologized and asked their forgiveness.

Ovijah, seated opposite of Narvakhan, leaned forward through an opening giving her access to the team driver and Nohric, began speaking to Nohric with her hands. Both were in a flurry of communication unaware of Narvakhan watching them, until he suddenly responded with gestures of his own. While they were slow and chopped, he was surprisingly versed.

“Let word arrive ahead of us to Droga. It will be fine.” Narvakhan answered his two shocked companions. Beside Ovjiah, Khelidra only smiled as she looked between the three.

“I..how…where did you learn?” Nohric stammered.

“I was taught some while I was a child. Always thought it was a game. After watching you both for a bit, I found I could understand you quite a bit. The rest I simply work at.” He responded.

“My Lord you should know Droga will not be pleased. Sharing a boarder with the Ministry, well he is more Rhiyan than a man of the South.” Nohric complained. “I would prefer we found a way for audience that did not include all of this.”

“I understand your concerns. But the decision has been made.” Narvakhan's movements were stern and direct, giving Nohric even more surprise. “Next time tell me of such concerns and do not complain to another before I have heard it. The royal court cannot pass around such things. As my Chief Man-At-Arms none of this must be hidden from me. While I will not always agree with you, I will not dismiss or ignore you.”

“As you command my Liege, I beg my apologies.” Nohric responded quickly and respectfully.

“Place your trust in me. I have given you mine, now I require you to give me yours.” With a large smile, Narvakhan leaned forward and awkwardly offered Nohric his hand, who quickly grabbed it and held it tightly.

“With all my life my King! I promise you, Droga will not be prepared for this.” A small laugh escaped his lips as he signaled to Narvakhan.

Narvakhan’s voice broke the silence suddenly. “So, will the Lord of Droga be happy to see me?” The lightness in his voice caused all to laugh just for a moment.

****

For three days Narvakhan was asked to wait outside the fortress gates of New Droga. For two of those days he remained patient, walking among those that joined his camp listening to all he had to say as if his words were divine. Narvakhan never hid from them any of his past if they asked. Many hearing of his years of torture wept openly. Several even begged him to leave Droga and openly spoke out against both Droga and the Rhiyan territories.

By the third day, he found an end to his patients. Without warning to any, Narvakhan placed a new red cape trimmed in gold around his shoulders. The golden dragon splashing the front with its fire gave testimony of his name. Saying nothing he strode to the gates of the fortress, only to have more than half of his camp suddenly behind him to witness what he would do next.

Nohric had warned him the reception would be less than kind if they weren’t simply turned away. Droga had been flamboyant with his disdain of the crown in general, to the point of saying it held no authority. It was painfully obvious he was slapping them in the face.

Immediately several guards snapped to attention and sidestepped to create a single line barrier between the young king and the door. However they were careful to not give a sign of aggression toward Narvakhan. Witnessing this, Nohric quickly ran to stand beside his king. For a moment, all stood in silence. As Nohric moved to speak, Narvakhan raised his hand to stop him.

“The sun has long risen and resides directly above us. I have offered the Lord Droga ample time to prepare himself for meeting with me. This has turned to a quick offense to my position and my court. Out of courtesy I have not simply walked in and forced him to take audience. This courtesy has found its end. I will not be barred from a fortress of my lands. There will be no siege, there will be no battle; I will simply enter should I not be given a proper reception within the time it takes you to deliver this message and return with his answer. By this time I am certain he is aware of my exit from Hnarn and thusly knows this is not a simple boast. I will speak to him and his court NOW. Deliver this message in its entirety.”

Still they remained, a level of fear now clear in their eyes betrayed their actions. “You will do this now soldier or I will have each of you arrested under the authority of the Southern King, treat you as a criminal of war and simply enter of my own accord. You had a choice. Now you have an order soldier. Execute it at once.”

With sudden curtness two turned and entered the structure as quickly as possible. When they returned, they offered no verbal response and simply opened the doors to the fortress and escorted them into a large royal hall where many had already gathered. Everyone kept at distance from him as Narvakhan walked and seated himself at the center plush chair in the middle of the hall. Several audible gasps filled the air as Nohric, Ovijah and Khelidra took station beside him, careful however not to sit upon the other chairs.

Keeping their private company for several more hours, finally a herald announced the arrival of the Lord of Droga and his court. While everyone stood and offered a bow, Narvakhan remained seated in the chair.

As the Lord of Droga entered, he immediately stopped, turned to the herald and spoke in a low tone. In response the herald ran toward Narvakhan only to be intercepted by Nohric raising his weapon as a gate to the herald.

“Good sir, I must inform you, you have taken a seat reserved for the Lord of Droga. As such I recommend...” The herald spoke loudly and with a solid bit of force, yet was still interrupted by Nohric.

“First herald, when you address the King of the South, you will drop to one knee at least two lengths of a man and make a request, but not a demand.” Nohric stepped forward, replaced his sword and demonstrated. “You will do it as such.” Immediately he turned toward Narvakhan, placed his right fist to his heart and offered his left hand open and forward to the seat.

Ignoring the act as Nohric continued to scold the herald, Narvakhan stood allowing his deep voice to fill the hall. “Come Lord of Droga, sit with me and let us discuss the issues of your lands as men. There is no reason for you to wait, come.” Narvakhan waived a hand at a seat next to the center seat.

With a look of shock and horror the Lord of Droga walked forward, motioning for his court to gather off to the side of the elevated seats. As the older man walked closer, his eyes never leaving the young King, the shock began to change to anger as his steps found more confidence and intentionally struck the ground a bit harder with each step. The woman whose arm was hooked through his, pulled away and stood behind a seat to the right of the center chair as Droga moved to sit in that same chair. Narvakhan had won the second wordless volley.

The Lord of Droga was considerably smaller and more portly than the tall and muscular Narvakhan. As Narvakhan offered his hand in introduction to the much younger lady that accompanied the Lord of Droga, he noticed her small hand seemed to disappear in his. Gently he lifted it and placed it upon his cheek as he remained completely erect.

“Dear Lady, I am Narvakhan, second son of Delvakhan, recently freed captive of the Rhiyans and King of the South.” His voice turned soft and calm as he spoke to her. “It is a great pleasure to meet you. You must forgive me; I am not familiar with the names of the various courts of the Kingdom. An error I am working diligently to remedy.” With a kind smile, he gently lowered her hand and released it.

With a curtsy, she dropped her head and responded. “It is a pleasure to meet you King Narvakhan. I am Uhnara Droga.”

“He is no recognized king of these lands.” The Lord of Droga suddenly stated with a fire in his eyes that was met with a sudden cold and calculated stare of Narvakhan as he raised his hand to stop Nohric from responding yet again.

“Mind your actions and your words. I will hold you accountable for each of them without parlay. The patients I carry you have worn through with your actions over the past two days. I will not readily forget them.” Narvakhan stood and faced Droga, yet insured there was enough space for all to witness.

“You are here on my good nature with little regard for other activities and duties important to my lands.” Droga moved to stand only to have Narvakhan shake his head as his eyes refused to let him go.

“Nohric, inform the garrison of soldiers here, their presence is immediately requested in this hall. They may bring as many as they like providing they do not give cause for others to leave the hall. It is most important those of highest authority arrive immediately.”

Mouth open aghast at the commands of Narvakhan the Lord of Droga spoke loudly and in condescension. “You command my guards now. Perhaps I should simply have them place you under arrest for the debts owed to this kingdom. Your crown and title are nothing more than ceremonial garb and hold no sway in these lands or any other of the Southern Territories. Return to whatever hovel you have come from. In fact perhaps I should simply deliver you to the Rhiyans as a tithe against the peace we have been afforded.” Confidently he leaned back on his heals and simply watched Narvakhan with an aura of discontent.

With a clear voice and a smile unsuspected by the Lord of Droga, Narvakhan responded, insuring all could hear him. “Lord of Droga, you are hereby stripped of your title. It is up to your people now to choose where they shall hold their loyalty. Loyalty to the King of the South as the highest Lord of the Southern Realms, against the aggression and demonic worship, control and torture of the Rhiyan Ministry and her people cannot exist with loyalty to the House of Droga, no longer the Lordship of Droga. Should you interfere with their choice, it will be met with your death.”

Narvakhan paused as a rush of guards ran into the room and quickly surrounded the elevated court seats. Returning his gaze to Droga, Narvakhan continued. “As for the debts of the crown owed to your family, they are hereby paid in four times over, as per the following collections. First the payment you received of land and coin by the Priestess Ahryn on account from the Rhiyan Ministry for the information given in trade as to the whereabouts of Kelvakhan and Narvakhan, first and second born sons to the previous King of the South, Delvakhan. Second payment considered against fourteen years of capture and torture of the second son of Delvakhan; Narvakhan. Third the sum of seventy thousand coins was delivered to this royal house to earn the release of Princess Khelidra of the Rakshar Imperial lands. The Princess is in attendance to speak and witness for her lands. Fourth and lastly the sum of thirty thousand coins is to be handed over to your Lady Uhnara for considerations to the House of Droga immediately. Additionally, considering the term of fourteen years is excessive and is countered by your own treason to your people for personal advancement; you hereby owe the time debt to the crown. Considering you personally are deemed none worthy, two members of your blood shall be turned over for stewardship to the crown for a period of five years. During these five years, they will be schooled and treated as a member of the Royal Khan family and court. One of these stewards is to be female, reserved for marriage to a family of the crowns choice, predisposed with your permission and consent. This marriage and bloodline shall never be considered for lineage to the high crown of the King of the South.

Finally two of your highest ranking soldiers accompanied by a single company shall be sequestered by the crown. The highest ranking soldier shall serve as the personal guardian to the stewards. The next ranking soldier shall take leadership of a company of crown loyalists for patrol and guardianship of the Southern Territories as originally agreed in the pack made by the House Droga and the first King of the South, Delvakhan. The company of men shall be disbursed throughout the various crown loyalists of the south. All shall serve without interference or break for five years. After the five years, should they wish to return, they will be allowed to do so with whatever wealth, honor and titles they may have acquired in service to the crown.

For this payment, I shall turn away from your treachery and not take your lands from you, nor shall I turn you over to the Southern Realms for public execution for treason. Shall you opt to refuse, which I will permit you to do if you must, I will reside here, take personal command of your troops and house upon which you will be tried for treason and if found guilty, you shall be committed to death and your family name removed forever from the Southern Realms.

Due to the insult of time inflicted by you during our wait here, you must give your choice immediately and thereby the orders will be enacted immediately and without interference. Your authority to debate my options is negated in the presence of a higher authority, namely the King of the South.”

“I refuse your demands and do not recognize your authority. Thus, in response I order you to death, King of the South. General, arrest this man, summon a detail and behead him upon this hall immediately!” The Lord of Droga screamed. As his wife reached for him, pleading for him to stop, in which he answered by shoving her away.

Immediately Narvakhan snatched the man out of his chair by his throat and lifted him to his feet. Cutting off his air so as he could no longer speak, the King turned to the General Droga gave the order to and issued his warrant.

“General, by your Lords own mouth he addressed me and acknowledge that I am the King of the South. The fact he does not believe in that crown does not change the fact you are a citizen of the Southern Lands and prior to his rise of Lord, an oath was sworn to my father and his royal lineage.”

Instantly the general dropped to his knee, followed by the other soldiers, saluting the King as Nohric had shown the herald previously. “I recognize the throne before me and plead the Kings mercy. His act is treason; however I have protected his family these many years. I would act you spare me the duty of his execution and beg your mercy to his family.”

“Mercy was always to be afforded his family. As for his execution, I would not ask this of you. It is my duty to uphold.” Letting the Lord of Droga go from his grasp, Narvakhan held his hand out, waiting for a sword. As the Lord of Droga crumbled to the ground choking and gasping for air, Nohric handed his sword over to Narvakhan who then pointed it at the now cowering lord.

“Lady of Droga, I would spare you and your court witness of this death should you wish it so. None shall bar your path should you wish to leave this hall. I ask only understanding for the unforgivable act I am duty bound to execute this day.”

Shaking her head as she fell to her knees, the Lady of Droga heaved with heavy sobs. Everyone else refused to move. Nohric, Ovijah, Khelidra and every guard stayed at knelt salute, unmoving.

“Lord of Droga, for the acts previously stated you are hereby found to have committed treason to the Southern Realms and directly to the King of the South, through two generations. As you were given choice as to punishment, you have opted to stand defiant against the throne, yet have acknowledged the throne. To stand witness your General, officially appointed by you, has acknowledged and agreed to the charge of treason against you. Your house name is to be stripped. Yet your lands will not be turned over to the Crown, but rather to your surviving wife as general steward to her kin. All rights and titles are now hers to discern as she sees fit. However, to ensure another member of your direct blood shall not attempt to influence, overthrow or belittle her appointment, a company from the royal soldiers shall re-garrison this fortress. Your banner is hereby to be recognized as the banner of a traitor and outcast to fly no longer among the southern realm. I hence command your spirit to the shadows.”

As a silence fell, by his own hands, Narvakhan, King of the South executed his royal duty and ran the Lord of Droga threw, allowing his life to spill upon the hall floor. As the Lords body fell, his court and visitors to the hall knelt in salute to the King of the South.

Knight In White Satin - Chapter Nine

Majestic and grand; the mountains continued to fall behind them. Cool winds smelling of the sea remained faint yet existent as they began their third day through the Rhiyan lands. In all his years kept within his cell, Narvakhan had lost his concept of time, but it was only now he realized he too lost touch with the seasons themselves. Brisk winds could mean fall or spring, he was unable to tell. From his youth he remembered flowered trees, unlike the lush needle filled trees they passed through. He found himself admiring the towering giants that still allowed the warmth of the sun to permeate their mass. Following from tree to tree, his eyes locked onto the one known as Khelidra.

Narvakhan knew she was older, yet couldn’t help being entranced by her vastly different appearance. Since the first night of their escape, she changed from the grayish priest robes into an elegant tapestry of fabrics, hiding the layered armor beneath. To his pleasant surprise, her entire ensemble followed gentle womanly curves. Yet it was the slightly different skin tone, high cheek bones and the slightly slanted eyes that he often found himself staring at. Unlike the other woman, her hair was not only jet black and long, but was amazingly straight with intermingled metal loops tied within it.

Khelidra’s walk and posture told him everything he needed to know. Beside the hidden sword he knew traced her left leg, she held daggers in various places as well. While he had never heard of a warrior woman, he knew he was the company of one now. What Narvakhan still failed to understand, was the strange ceremonies she completed each day. Always in private yet not in silence; the words were alien to him. He, as a man, was forced to admire her in more ways than he could explain.

Nohric was everything he knew of a soldier and terribly familiar to him both in posture and manners. Armed heavily from head to toe, he offered no excuse, nor turned from any task. Much to Narvakhan’s surprise, shortly after they left Hnarn, Nohric handed him the hammer slung to his back. No explanation, it was simply given without word or ceremony. Everything else about Nohric was what it appeared. Each night he brought them food, always serving Narvakhan first. Never rude or abrupt, Nohric completed such duties at every stop without prompting, word or assistance. Narvakhan did notice all three often communicated with their hand and gestures. While he didn’t notice it in the others, Nohric always did such in front of him and seemed to exaggerate the motions. Several times, Narvakhan had noticed Nohric looking at him while he did it instead of Khelidra or Ovijah.

Ovijah left him conflicted in almost every way. While he recognized the beauty of her face and the well developed womanly body, there was no desire. But where one would find desire, he felt some connection he couldn’t understand. All of this was outside the power he felt in the air when she barely moved, let alone the few times they found themselves talking their way through Rhiyan troops in patrol.

Each time she used her ‘will’, Narvakhan was awash with raw emotions and almost choked on the forced the woman kept in control. In counter, it was all extremely familiar. He found he could mimic her actions, almost as if he added his own will to hers. While Narvakhan had no idea if she could sense him the same way, he knew everything she felt. With some trial and error, he was sure he could even anticipate her moves to the point of reading her mind as she worked.

“STOP IT!” Ovijah suddenly yelled out and spun to face him. “My thoughts and my mind are not for you to simply take a stroll through. Do you understand me?”

Fire danced in her eyes and he could feel her will compressing the air in natural defense. While Narvakhan could hear her words, he could not stop the sheer wonderment of what he had discovered. He pushed back hard, carelessly shoving her defenses aside, unraveling a glimmer of a thought that was suddenly once again hidden from him.

No longer was this a natural defense, she was combating him. Narvakhan never heard her yell more for him to stop. He knew this she was hiding specifically from him. As he continued to assault her thoughts carving through her recent memories as if they were merely a river his hand glided through. Her last scream shattered his concentration. But he was finished; he found what she was hiding.

“Why would you hide this?” Narvakhan ran to her, suddenly pulling her into his arms, holding her close. “Am I so hideous you would turn me away? In all my years of torture and captive, have I no right to see and know what a part of me is?”

Her tears fell heavily as her body shook from sobbing. Ovijah clutched him in response crying harder. “Too much to take in at once after so many years. There are no words I can offer or give.”

Narvakhan struggled with the new knowledge and actions. Part of him could not trust what he was feeling, what he now knew. But deeper and more familiar, he knew how he must act. “But Vi,” he began. The nickname plucked from her mind while he searched earlier. He knew the name gave her comfort. His mother had called her this. “My sister? How long I wondered if I was alone, forgotten and gone from the world.”

“I am so sorry Narva.” She stepped back just enough to look at his face. Taking his hands in hers she cried and simply looked at him. “So many years we have looked for you. Your Father never knew where they took you. When he left our Mother behind, she had to take a new life. While he is an outcast in his kingdom, she is treated well. I am a part of her new life. For three years I have looked for you. From the moment I knew you existed still.”

Narvakhan dropped to one knee to look directly into his sister, also giving support to the sudden weight he felt upon his shoulders. “That is why I feel your power each time. It’s the same in us.”

“Yes, you amplify mine.” She nodded as she spoke. “I can’t seem to do the same for yours, it’s so raw and unrefined, but it screams its existence. It is far more powerful than what I was trained to handle.”

She stopped and looked at Nohric giving him a nod as a slight smile passed between them.

Nohric calmly lifted his hands and placed them on both Ovijah and Narvakhan. “This is a good place to rest my nephew and liege. It would likely be best if we explain everything to you. I had wanted to wait until we made it deeper into Dorgan’s realm, but it is obvious this will no longer wait.” He bowed deeply and waited.

Narvakhan lost track of the time as they told him everything he had missed in his fourteen years. As more and more became known, he found less and less words to share. Everything was surreal and put fear into every fiber in his being.

Delvakhan; his father, originally united the lands under a single banner against the Rhiyan people and their attempt to control both those with the power of ‘will’ as well as the trade throughout the lands with an exorbitant tithe amount to the church. It was short lived alliance for the second generation king; as the money promised to the other royal families never surfaced. It was unknown which family sold the royal son’s to the Rhiyans, but it was generally agreed it was done to pay part of Delvakhan’s debt. Narvakhan and his older brother Kelvakhan were assumed to be dead. Originally as their Mother fled Windra, Kelvakhan had found and stayed with her. After only a few years, he too disappeared to find his younger brother. Some say he was found and hung for the debt of their Father. But that was like all the other rumors about the final events of the royal lineage.

Much was dispelled recently as Delvakhan was found traveling the wild lands beyond Dragonspine, running from his debt and attempting to pay it by freeing those with the ‘will’ from the Rhiyan Ministry; with a fee of course.

Khelidra was originally one of those he had found with the will that was fleeing from the Ministry. As the Princess of the Rakshar nation, there was a tremendous payment made on her behalf and she was release almost immediately. Many thought such paid Delvakhan’s debt in full. True or not this unfortunately caused her Mother to retreat deep within the Rakshar nation; keeping as much distance from the Rhiyans as possible. Only recently had Khelidra returned to work more on her studies. It was at the Temple of the Timewalker she met Ovijah and decided to help her find her brother.

Much to his additional surprise, Narvakhan learned he had yet another brother, a younger one. Viktrakhan was his brother born to his father’s newest wife. This child Delvakhan kept from the Southern Realm and the small home kingdom of this wife after he had left the mother in yet another search. However, it didn’t change one very basic fact of the Southern Realms and the source of its anger.

Through all the payments made by freeing the children of various powerful families, there was still a political debt to be paid. Delvakhan through all his actions was still the King of the Southern Territories. A crown created during the first unity of the territories. To satisfy his political debt, Delvakhan abdicated his thrown to his eldest son, Kelvakhan. As a child king, Kelvakhan never actually took power and thus the throne was relieved of the debt, on paper. In practicality the strength of the crown, already tarnished, fell to the level as title only as both of his heirs were considered dead or captured. In this consideration, each family created their own barony and paid a tribute to the Ministry to keep the Rhiyan forces from encroaching on their lands. Originally there were dozens of families, but through brief and local battles the Southern lands were split into five families, with only the far south remaining loyal to whomever was the King of the Southern Territories. Through various agreements and pacts, the far south was sealed from the Rhiyans in the north, waiting.

Nohric was in fact his great Uncle and from before the unity, a great general of the people. He remained loyal to the King and his family, serving as the royal man-at-arms and personal guard to the king. In the absence of a king, his sole charge was to find the King of the South. Nohric kept the official royal records, as his father did. As the confirming source, he published Narvakhan was the heir of the crown and the King of the Southern Territories, or King of the South as Nohric liked to call it. All the ceremonies of the royal court were kept through and in him.

They sat in silence once the explanations were done, each of them waiting for Narvakhan to speak. He could feel it. His mind raced, not for understanding of history but rather for understanding of the direction he would take. Deep in him, anger, fear and emotion overload swelled and passed. At eighteen, if he kept his time properly, he was suddenly a king. Those before him not only loyal and devout, but looking for his guidance. He wanted to speak royal, regal and defined, yet no words flowed. Nothing even wanted to come forth. Still they sat in silence waiting for him

Closing his eyes for a moment, calming all around him, silencing his mind as he learned during his torturing, Narvakhan said the only thing he knew, the only thing he could say; his truth. As the moon rose and began to retreat he told them everything he could remember. Of Ahryn and his daily tortures, even those actions he himself found shame in. For the first time in his life, he cried of his experiences and didn’t care what they felt. Held just under the surface of his mind, everything exploded in his words, reopening the wounds and scars he left bleeding in his memories. Everything of what he was poured out in his words. As the hardest moments were shared, the strong supportive hand of his Uncle would clasp his shoulder as his eyes tried to hide the horror of the things her heard. Ovijah held onto his hands and lowered her head to hide her tears. Khelidra simply locked her eyes onto Narvakhan’s listening without wavering to every detail.

As he continued, Narvakhan saw the tears, heard the gasps and watched them shiver. Then as he saw their faces, Narvakhan, King of the South understood why he had done such a thing. He was giving them his trust. The first trust of his life, wild, blind and without restriction passed from ruler to those to be ruled. With this knowledge they would either give their lives for them, or he would lose his. Either found equal serenity in his thoughts.

Finally his history was finished and silence returned. Saying nothing more, Narvakhan found his pack and slept in peace for the first time in many many years. Life to be lived or taken, no longer mattered. Others now knew he lived and what he lived through. Tomorrow this knowledge would be locked and buried in their minds and he would simply be their kin and King. Tomorrow, he would continue to take his own life down the path he started.

****

In surprise, Narvakhan awoke to find the sun had not yet risen. He was unsure of the amount of sleep he actually completed, but he was wide awake and alive. Never had he found such refreshment from rising in a new day. In absolute wonderful shock, he watched the sun rise spraying vibrant colors dancing from one end to the other of the morning sky. Life itself seemed to wake, announcing a new day. From the birds both singing and flying too and fro, Narvakhan realized it couldn’t be fall. The young king was witnessing his first spring. Just beyond his vision the strands of life danced around him and welcomed them into the world. Touching the earth he could feel all the vibrations, songs and language as it coursed through currents others could not see. Close to him he could see the life essences flow in them and around them as they slept. There was calmness in the vibrations and strands.

Returning his full view to the physical, Narvakhan watched the sun finish breaking through the darkness of the night. As it rose strong and proud, Narvakhan packed up his roll and sat calmly waiting for the others to awake. In no surprise, Ovijah awoke almost immediately after he sat down. With a smile, she walked over to him, bid him good morning and kissed him on the cheek. Wasting no time she roused Khelidra and Nohric. All three quickly packed their rolls.

“We will visit each family, state our cause and purpose.” Narvakhan announced.

“What is our cause my Lord?” Nohric questioned. “I have taken a hefty amount from the royal coffers to pay our way through anything we should come across. I need only your direction.”

It was exactly what Narvakhan had assumed in hearing Nohric recount his duties the night before. “We must build their trust, yet not lessen our authority. We have to heal what was wounded or all the suffering all have experienced will be wasted. One thing I have learned is power is not simply given; it must be demanded, and then found worthy. Authority is just another form of power, so we will follow the same logic. We will be doing both. If we visit these barons as beggars, weak or wounded, we will be treated as common poor or needy. This will make any effort moot; therefore our first step will be to obtain the supplies to have a proper camp and caravan. That will get us beyond any silliness of station or possession.”

“We will not give personal audience, but rather speak to all the people at once, this will be our demand. From this, I will sequester a company of men from each of them. These companies will become our force as we establish our home.” Narvakhan waited for their responses.

“Lord Narvakhan,” Khelidra began. “Where is home? Will you return to Windra?”

“No an island detached from the rest of the Southern Territories creates a distance we don’t need. I saw once a city north East of Hnor and north of Crow’s pass.” He explained.

“I know the place you are talking about; Marva. I visited it as a girl with my mother. I believe its almost all rubble now.” Khelidra stated. “Rubble isn’t much of a city and certainly not one that fits the regality of a royal court.”

“We will rebuild it and use it as a beacon.” Narvakhan quickly answered.

“My Lord, Marva will put us very near the Rhiyan boarder.” Nohric added with shock. “Not to mention it was your father that originally sequestered funds to build that city. Any reference to your father can be seen as homage and will stir rather ill feelings from the people.”

“I have paid those debts in full. Any that wish to say otherwise will find an anger that will not be denied. Someone, regardless of the reason betrayed my father and I paid the price, as did my brother.” Deep frowns pierced his forehead and he glared at Nohric. “I plan on making that very clear with any we respond to in challenge.”

Nohric nodded in response. “Yet that still leaves us very close to the Rhiyan boarder. Our cover and protection from their forces will be limited. Though after what I saw in Hnarn, I shouldn’t be worried?”

Narvakhan now smiled as he spoke. “That is exactly my intention. We cannot ask a people to do what we are not willing to do. Additionally, we will need to fight the Rhiyan forces soon. If they are able to reach us, they will not cause the others in the realm to suffer, just to get to us. It’s the only way to keep our homes safe.”

“They will pull as many legions necessary to simply march over us. I do not believe we can withstand such an assault. Nor do I believe the people can handle such a defeat.” Nohric added, dropping his head as he spoke.

“How impossible is it, a King is capture for fourteen years and still has a people loyal to him, though they have never seen him? In your actions you have defied such a thought, yet now you doubt it. Or do you simply trust yourself and doubt me?”

“No, he always doubts, don’t ya Uncle Ric?” Ovijah chided.

Nohric stood in silence, refusing to look at Ovijah. After just a moment, he looked up and nodded to his King. Narvakhan walked to him, took him bay the arm and embraced him. Carefully his whispered into his ear; “Thank you”.

“So what say you Khelidra, you have remained silent through this.” Narvakhan questioned.

“By the Light you were found. By the Light you were freed. By the Light I follow. That Light has chosen you and so I shall stand at your side; to protect you, to love you and to keep you, where you go, I follow.”

“Then it is time I introduced myself to the Baron of Darga.”

Knight In White Satin - Chapter Eight

“None of it has been real has it?” The young man questioned as he was visited again by the familiar soothing voice. “Everything I have seen is just what someone wanted me to see. Either hers or yours correct?”

“I have shown you the history as I know it, not how I want it to be. Ahryn however is trying to find a way to break you and access your power. That is her gift beyond anything else.” The answer came quickly yet without being contrived or forced, he could sense that much.

“What then is real? What of the Rakshar, Vrok, Mora, Elidra, Burakani, my father, my mother and my family? What of the babies, the girls?”

“I think it is time for you to find out for yourself. It has been too long that you have heard from others what the world is. There is a single universal truth; you are the Chosen of Xhuri. No amount of history can or will change this. You are who you are, as Xhuri wished you to be. The Rhiyans struggled and worked tirelessly to decipher the right person. Only by guessing you did they finally stumble upon the truth.”

The young man could feel himself nod in response. He wanted the voice to push a direction so he could shut it out like every other voice that attempted to assault his mind. “We will meet you and me.” He said with finality.

“What makes you say so?” He could almost see a smile on the voice’s face, still hidden by a deep shadow.

Pausing, the young man stopped the words before they blurted out. Carefully he weighed the each word, testing its sincerity. “Because I want it to be so.”

“Then I await this meeting.”

Opening his eyes, the young man could see the flow of everything around him. Every strand of existence flowed before him as a permanent screen to the world around him. But there was more now, he could hear the sounds emanating from the strands. Carefully he reached out to embrace all the strands only to have them call out and encase him. They knew his name and his existence and waited for his will. With the world clear before him, he lied down and fell into a sound sleep.

****

Long ago, early in his captivity, time was not measured by the rising of the sun and moon. Each morning it had been the same for such a time it was almost the only memory left. She entered, administered his treatment and left him weary and on the verge of breaking. He no longer wondered why she continued to do this, he no longer asked. Most importantly he was unsure why he continued to endure and simply did not just give in. For most of his life deep, so very deep, in his heart he could feel a fire that refused to die, refused to extinguish. While no one act seemed to stir it, the culmination of the administering of his torture gave it more fuel to burn. It was more than awake, more than aware, it was everything about him; he was the fire and today he would set his life afire.

Following the old and long ritual of his waking hours his arms were pulled high above him, just at the point of his maximum reach. Another set of chains were set upon his ankles. Today it would be the tumble and fall; as he called it. Each time his arms slackened, the chains upon his feet were pulled with such a sudden jerk, the only thing stopping his fall was the crashing of his head onto the unforgiving stone. Within moments after his fall, he was pulled back up to his original standing position and the cycle would start again.

Each time this treatment was given, it was the first fall that he dreaded. With each additional yanking and crashing, his head would ring louder and the pain on the back of his head would deaden. By the time he reached the sixth of seventh cycle, his anger and defiance would swell and it wasn’t necessary for the chains to haul him back to his feet; he did so with his own strength and will. Yet even that would prove short lived and cyclical by the end of the day. As always he would lose count by the time he reached his twelfth his mind could no longer keep the numbers straight as the echo of the previous falls almost blocked out all other sounds. At some point he would begin to count again, if nothing more to pass his time.

Several times, he remembered calling out, but only in a cry of rage. Today there was no rage, there was only going through the motion. Today, yet again, he would endure. Not because they allowed him to, but because he refused to let them control his life. More importantly he knew today he would be free. The reason for the tortures no longer mattered to him; in fact he almost found their means and actions comical and childish. Only one thought, one direction could entertain him now. Ending the treatments and leaving his captivity. Internally and hidden the fire raged almost out of control, waiting for that moment of release.

Hunger called to him at some point during the day. He knew he would not eat. The young man determined he was not fed during his treatments simply because no one wanted to clean up the mess or waste the food he would violently expel from his body. The captive was almost happy for this act as the smell of his vomit during the early years of his torture added an element he could not seem to escape. But still each day the hunger would call. His halfway point, yet still he had several hours to go.

He wasn’t sure when but he had blackened out. It was just another part of the system of his torture. Yet today, it was her voice that brought him out of it. She was there, she was watching. She would of course tell him otherwise, but he could recognize the scent of his master torturer easily enough. The years had attuned him keenly to her. The echo of her boots, the perfume, the line of her breasts against her clothing, the sound of her almost scratchy voice, and of course the taste of her skin, lips and mouth; Ahryn.

Lips pressed to his as he found himself responding with vigor. Once again the fire of his defiance rose to the surface as he pulled himself away. He felt her giggle against his struggles as she pressed her actions, digging her fingers sharply into his shoulders. He could tell by the sudden warmth she had drawn blood, yet against his still ringing head, it was nothing.

Hot water poured over his skin, adding relief and new pain. It was just hot enough to alert his senses yet not enough to do any real harm. Almost immediately his skin was shocked with a blistering splash of cold water. With his eyes now wide open, he looked his captor directly in the eyes. Green eyes filled with fire responded in kind and would not release him from their gaze. Her cruel smile played across perfectly white teeth parted slightly to giggle at him yet again. Each time he closed his eyes to enjoy the hot water, he was met with body numbing splashes of cold. Even this wasn’t new.

She kept him in pain, but she kept him clean while in her presence. Only in her passions did she draw blood. Unfortunately Ahryn was passionate regularly. Scars were not uncommon his body and they typically became her focal points. While never completely undressed, none of her features were hidden. Each was used on him and against him. With each response given, her answer was pain.

“You have grown fine and strong.” She suddenly stated stepping away from him. This was new. Only spare few other times did she speak directly to him, and those were only so he knew exactly what she wanted. Everything was for her pleasure. “It won’t be long before that too fades. Do you remember when you first came to me? Such a young and pretty child.”

New anger filled his senses, almost taking him by surprise. There was something about what she said and how she said it. This new anger threatened to show itself, but there was more within it, something completely alien to him.

“Ah those beautiful blue eyes say so much.”

With a horrid smile she suddenly slammed one of his cuffs against his forehead. He wasn’t even aware when she had uncuffed him, but it was an error. His entire being screamed for his retaliation. Heat filled his entire body as he felt every muscle clench in response.

There! In a split moment he saw something new in her. Ahryn showed the faintest glimmer of fear. He could almost smell it upon her. Entirely her demeanor shifted. Yet in the next moment, her normal posture returned. Her eyes once again met his.

“You see Narva? You see what have made me do?” He realized now there was wet warmth flowing down his face. The cuff had cut him well and deep in his forehead. A pulsating warning was breaching his previous concentrations.

Absently he reached up and felt the wound and wiped the blood. Without an additional thought, he flicked the blood from his finger at her. A smile escaped his lips as the droplets hit her cheek, neck and bust line. Rage filled her eyes as she lunged at him in response. Easily he caught her wrists, yet was surprisingly met with her mouth hungering against his.

“NO!” His voice found power as he stepped back, spreading her arms wide and completely in his control.

Hauntingly she laughed at him. Suggestively she waved and swayed her body back and forth. “Take me my charge, it is yours to take. You are allowed to have pleasure. Pain and pleasure my love. Take me. There is nothing left but me for you.” The blood from his head had made its way to the corner of his mouth. Tasting the salty thick liquid, he suddenly willed the wound to close and the blood to stop. Delicately yet quickly the strands surrounding him answered his will. Just at the horizon of his view he watched and listened to his will while remaining on the physical plane, never lost in what he saw or heard.

Instinctively he repeated the process to end the heavy ringing in his head. Life anew burst through his body in response; answering his commands without hesitation or strain. Almost in harmony the strands danced and pulsed around him causing everything came slamming into his brain. All the memories, from that first moment to this became clear and complete. And now it would end. What he thought was anger, was raw power. With each torture, with each “treatment” they pressed his natural state deeper and deeper into his mind as it attempted to protect him. This was his defiance; this was the spark and fire that refused to give in that last moment.

“Fourteen years Ahryn.” It was being released now. A fiery glow encased his hands causing her to attempt to pull away. He responded by holding her even tighter. “Is this what you want?”

All of him as aglow now, it was almost at the point of uncontrollable. He could see her own essence shrieking back from his pulsing will, screaming to the deaf in panic. It too wanted to control his mind, to lash out and take vengeance on his behalf.

“Release it, all of it!” She commanded and almost begged of him in a deep moan of drunken ecstasy. “So long I have waited for this. Do not deny it from me. Free yourself to me Narvakhan!” Wrenching her hands free, she fell to his feet, exposing all of her flesh to him for the first time.

Clarity befell him, calming him completely. Looking down, almost with pity on her, Narvakhan knew it was over. “I am not you. I will not be you.” Gently he unwrapped her arms from his legs.

With Ahryn still on the floor staring at him, Narvakhan walked to a door on the far side of the room, opposite of where he knew she entered. Grapping fresh clothes waiting for him, he dressed with his back still toward Ahryn.

A simple soft change in the air announced her charge. Yet he already knew it was coming. Calmly he caught her and held her tight against him. What once enticed him, now felt foul and disgusting against his skin. With distaste but without causing her harm, lifted her and tossed her to his bed locking his eyes onto hers.

“This is at an end. No longer am I your toy. The next time you attempt to strike at me, I will not spare you. This is your only warning. I am leaving and will destroy anything that attempts to stop me. Do you understand me Ahryn?”

“You would damn me to face Rhiya’s wrath? After I have stood by you all these years to help bring forth this power? When others would no longer work with you, I was the one that kept you alive because I knew you would eventually reach your potential. All of this I have done for you!” She answered quickly, her old posture returning quickly, finding new confidence.

“No woman. I would see you damned by your own actions, there is nothing more I even need to do. Take credit for what is not your doing. It matters not any further.” Narvakhan answered as he turned from her again, walking back into the previous room, heading for the other door in the room.

“Your people are scattered. There is no support for you beyond these walls.” Ahryn called out to him.

“At least something will be familiar.” He replied not caring if she heard him or not. Reaching the other door, he simply willed it to open and found it falling before him. Catching him by surprise three faces looked up from killing the guards in the room and gasped audibly.
****

“We have to wait until she has been in the room a few minutes. If we don’t, we will lose this chance.” A young fit woman with short yet full hair stated quietly. Next to her a hearty older man, heavily dressed in armor shouldering both an axe and hammer carefully watched around them.

“It has been a long time Vi. This may be for nothing and if that is the case, we may as well find our end here.” He stated softly yet earnestly.

“Because we gave our word Uncle Ric. I would rather not see the old man again. He always gives me the creeps.” She pointed toward a large open room with several guards. “If for no other reason than I am too cramped sitting here, I want to be in that room.”

“Vi, shut up. Do you have any idea what the room is for? Have you not listened to anything Khel has said?” He asked as he shook his head? “With the stories she offers from that room, I would rather we were simply out of here. As I said, it has been a long time.”

“Where is Khel? It seems like we have been here forever waiting.” Vi stated quietly. “I want to leave this place Uncle Ric. If that woman or any of them has the will, we are dead. Have you thought of that?”

“By the Light Vi, would you shut up? We won’t have to worry about them having the will if you keep rattling on. I just may kill you myself.” He stated gruffly but reached over and squeezed her hand.

“Look, Khel.” The woman pointed again; secure they would not be seen amongst the many barrels of wine stored along the walls. Moving just beyond her vision, the woman she pointed to turned the corner and served several guards food.

With a soft gasp, both the hidden people pressed against the wall as several guards carrying chains passed within feet of them, making their way to the large open room. With quick movements, they attached cuffs and ran two of the chains through a slit in the wall leading into another room. Two more were attached to more chain running up to the center of the room. The guards moved with slow yet deliberate moves to fasten the chains and test their strength.

A third guard suddenly appeared in the room holding something they could not quite see. “By the Light!” Vi said under her breath as they attached what looked to be a naked man to the chains via his wrists and ankles. Straining to make out the face, the young woman almost stumbled forward.

With a certain roughness, the man with her shoved her back against the wall. Shaking his head and held his hand in front of her mouth. Softly he whispered. “Be patient, we can’t just barge in. Khel will let us know, now be still girl”

Opposite them, the third woman with long jet black hair moved amongst the guards and kept peering into the large room with the man being shackled.

“Need a good look lass?” One of the guards suddenly asked as he caught her looking.

“What are they doing today Commander?” She questioned as she deliberately served him a larger portion.

“I never bother to watch. Once you have seen a torture, you have seen your fill.” He commented as he ate. “But if you really want to see, Roy can let you in the observation room. Doubt there will be anyone else watching as we go through standards.”

“But commander, I would rather it was you.” The woman pouted.

“Aye lass, ye all do. However, I have my duties. Roy will see to it, wont you boy?” The commander ate greedily and wiped his mouth with a heavy glove. “But if you lose your breakfast, you will be cleaning it up. Why a woman would want to see such things.”

“It’s not the torture I want to see!” Roy suddenly chipped in, only to be met with that same heavy glove upon the side of his face.

“Watch it boy. If the priestess hears you, you will be the one in the room. Never forget that. Don’t cross the Ministry boy, not even in thoughts.” The Commander now pulled the boy by the shirt to his face, looking him directly into the eyes.

“Y…yes.” He stammered.

With another heavy slap, the Commander added. “Yes what boy?”

“Yes Commander!” The boy stated loudly.

“Darkness boy! I have lost my appetite. Might as well start my rounds early seeing as there is no point of staying here watching you blubber. Mind me on the priestess and the lass. I don’t want any reports of you watching what is best not watched. One report and you will spend a week finding out just what I mean boy.” Patting the serving woman on the shoulder he walked past the barrels, taking one more look into the large room with the guards working on chains.

“Rounds Commander?” A guard questioned from the room.

“Aye, the boy has a guest in the observation room, leave him to it. You need to be at North wall by noon Yost. The boy can take your place here for the afternoon. Has to learn sometime I s’pose.” The commander called out as he continued to leave.

“Poor bastard. Better him than me. I get tired of cleaning this slop up.

“You and everyone else. See to it. No reports today.”

It wasn’t long before the guards exited the room, pulling the door closed behind them, offering no further view of the prisoner they shackled. Two entered the room where the commander sat and took to eating the remaining food. The third guard entered the observation room with the serving girl.

Carefully looking around, Vi tapped the armored mans shoulder. Using a sequence of finger movements, he nodded. Pointing to the two guards and pointing at him, he then motioned at the far room and pointed to the woman. Nodding in agreement, Vi turned to watch the hall the Commander walked out.

Suddenly gripping the armored mans shoulder, Vi starred at the woman making her way down the hall. Her striking fiery hair and green eyes could not take away from the amazing dress hugging her every feature. Ric too starred as was careful to not move at all. Every feature of the woman was startling and fierce. Without trying to, every private region of her body was easily seen with just a bit of focus. Yet her sway was not that of seduction, but of purpose and command. As she entered the room with the guards, they immediately jumped to their feet and waited.

“Good Morning Priestess!” They both exclaimed.

Saying nothing the priestess turned the corner and disappeared for only an instant. Returning to view with a key in her hand, she made her way to the door of the large open room. Quietly she pulled it open, entering and shutting it just as quietly behind her. With a click followed by the small cling of metal, the lock was set and the key passed under the door. Immediately a guard walked over and retrieved the key.

The guard called Yost returned the key and started to leave. “Remember what the commander said. I am going to head for north wall before I get stuck here again. Roy has clean up today, poor bastard.”

As the guard left Ric adjust his position and continued to watch the guards room. After a short time, the serving woman walked quickly out covering her mouth. With a signal using his fingers, Ric assured her no one was watching, she entered the hidden space amongst the barrels.

“By the Light they mean to kill him!” She exclaimed quietly.

“Khel, is it him?” Vi questioned as she and Ric looked to Khel her response.

“I don’t know who else it would be. Sandy brown hair and blue eyes hold the fire of the will. I just didn’t expect him to be so young. So many years a captive and still so young?”

“Khelidra, he was a lad when they took him, what did you expect? A boy reaches his manhood before these same many years.” Ric answered with a sigh in his voice. “We may be rescuing a shell.”

“If he even survives. Nohric they are dropping him on his head, it’s terrible.” Suddenly Khelidra stopped as she saw the tears on the young woman's face. With smile she added. “But he has survived this long, I am sure he is more than a shell.”

“Shell or not, my brother will no longer suffer here. Better we all die than allow this to continue.” She stated anger heavy in her voice. “It has taken us too long to get to this point.”

“We will have to act near to lunch or we will have a room full of guards. The boy mentioned all the guards get a turn beating prisoners after she is finished and leave a lot to be cleaned up.” Khelidra stated as she found comfortable spot.

“Why not now?” Ric questioned. “Is there a point to waiting?”

Khel nodded. “Roy also told me the priestess observes and works some lever to pull the chains. We have to be sure she is into it or she will notice people are in the observatory. I told him I was afraid and it frightened me too much. So now we just wait a bit.”

The waiting was greeted with the sound of dragging chains. With each scrape, Vi almost shivered and grew more and more angry. Several times Ric had to pat her hands and remove them from his shoulders as he repeatedly squeezed tightly.

Without warming the young woman left her hiding spot and began moving toward the guards’ room. With a small crackle of fire, the first guard covered his face, too late and fell to the ground. With only the smallest cry, he was met with a hammer smashing his skull. The second guard lost his hand to the axe and his voice to a heavy hand crushing his windpipe. With a horrid snapping sound, Ric slammed the convulsing body to the ground. Vi had already moved to the observation room, slamming fire into the face of Roy and cursing as he fell. As Roy attempted to scream, Khelidra took a dagger across his throat.

“Vi are you out of your mind?” Ric demanded as he pulled his axe tip out of the table. “A little warning would have been nice!”

“He’s awake!” The young woman answered. Suddenly I realized it was him and he is awake.”

“The Will?” Khelidra questioned and met Vi’s nod.

“Roy!” A voice called from the hall.

The commander turned the corner into the room to be met with all three attacking him. Ric collapsed both weapons to either side of his torso, Vi slammed his face with fire while Khel spun and dug a small blade into the back of his neck and another into the center of his spine. Not a sound escaped his lips and he crumbled to the ground.

Quickly Vi grabbed the key from the far wall, falling into the others as she tripped over the body of one of the guards. In panic they untangled themselves, just as the door from the large room imploded. Dumbfounded they starred at the man standing in the doorway.

****

“Narvakhan?” The older armored man questioned as he looked up at him. Quickly jumping to his feet his words came quickly. “My Lord please, we can’t just stand here, you need to follow us. We will explain once we are away from here.”

Narvakhan paused as he scanned the people before him. It was obvious they were not guards due to the dead ones littering the floor. As he thought only one work escaped his lips. “Why?”

A short haired woman took his left arm while the long haired woman took his right, pulling him as they followed the soldier. Moving through the structure, Narvakhan noted the long haired woman was dressed similar to Ahryn, yet much more simply. Periodically he could catch her looking at him. To his surprise he found himself drawn to her. Not like he was with Ahryn, but drawn to her none the less. The woman on his left hummed with power, not unlike that which he has recently discovered in himself. But that too offered more. There was something else with that power, almost as if it intertwined with his. He could almost sense her heartbeat within his thoughts. Suddenly awash with awareness of her, he stumbled, almost bringing all three of them to the ground.

Grabbing him roughly and steadying him, the man in the lead took a moment to ensure he was steady on his feet. Narvakhan noticed then, the man was dressed almost identical to the guards they passed here and there. To his surprise they often parted ways for them to pass. His rescuers were not Rhiyans; they had to be some of his people.

Hope returned to Narvakhan as if it had never left. If these people were here to escort him from his captors, there was a chance his family still lived. If his people still lived, there was hope the Rhiyans did not control all the lands as Ahryn told him almost daily.

His thoughts were interrupted by commotion ahead of them. Several guards heavily questioned the man in front leading them. While the others may have stepped aside, these guards were pointing with weapons. One of the guards moved toward Narvakhan.

Within him, Narvakhan felt his will surge, almost embolden itself with a power from the woman next to him. Time slowed, yet he could hear the thunder of his own heart. Without a thought he grabbed the guard by the neck, avoiding his attack and in one fluid motion lifted him from his feet and brought him crashing to the ground. Using his own momentum, Narvakhan cart wheeled over the now lifeless body, grabbed a mace from Nohric’s back only to bring it crashing down on the next guard.

Following his power as it coursed through his every muscle, the tortured warrior unleashed everything he had into the guards even as their numbers continued to grow. He was unable to hear his own words, but he felt himself growl into the air as more of the garrison’s men fell to their death at his feet. Even in his blood rage, Narvakhan was acutely aware of everything around him. Out of instinct or self preservation, his new companions kept their distance as they made their way to the front entrance.

Several fell with each beat of his heart. Every surface of his body was covered with the blood of the Rhiya’s that stood before him but could not stop him. Without interruption he continued his strides to the door the others continued to attempt to open.

Narvakhan noticed the change in the air as it was suddenly filled the crackling of magic and the stench of creatures from the shadows. Strange and unfamiliar strands of power tried to take over his. Spinning to meet them, he found himself face to face with a demon. Eight feet tall, muscular, grotesque and horned, the creature spit its acid bile, yet missed its target. As if it was limitless, without the need of thought, his will swelled again. As his right hand offered a backhanded attack that smashed the creatures jaw with an eerie crack, Narvakhan lunged forward tackling the creature at the neck with his left hand. As the two crashed to the ground, once again growling, he suddenly spun without letting go of the demons neck. Death found the creature with a quick and grotesque snap.

Slightly leaning forward, leering at the other creatures, Narvakhan’s eyes found and locked onto Ahryn standing behind a wall of demons. Unlike any anger he had felt previously, Narvakhan opened his mouth to scream his bloody rage at her. As blood dripped from his face, fire suddenly filled his lungs and then screamed through is throat, billowing from his lips choking the air. Almost instantly the demons were destroyed.

Falling to her knees and then bowing all the way to the floor, Ahryn continued to stare at him repeating; ‘the dragon lives’.

Finally exhaustion hit him. Narvakhan turned and walked toward the door and the others. As he approached, each dropped their heads to him in respectful acknowledgement. Saying nothing he struck the door with the hammer guided by his will. As if it were struck by thunder, the door, hinges and part of the wall exploded outward allowing light and fresh air to pour into the structure. Without a word he moved forward. Guards positioned outside the door, not killed by the blast, simply stood aside and let him pass as the screams from Ahryn filled the air proclaiming the dragon lives. However none noticed the tears that streamed silently down Narvakhan’s face as he felt the breeze of freedom and the grace of sunlight wrap around his body.

Knight In White Satin - Chapter Seven

Crow’s Pass fell sometime during the third night. When the sun rose, Nohric covered in blood and gore, with quite a bit of it his own, was woken by the burning sun beating onto his face. All around him the smell of death and blood filled his nose and caused bile to threaten the back of his throat. He wanted to move, cursed it to move yet nothing responded. The general realized he couldn’t feel his legs or his arms. A ringing in his ears made his head pound. Wanting to turn away from the sun he could only resort to closing his eyes. Quickly he was once again asleep.

Slowly opening his eyes, Nohric could feel the fever burning his cheeks hot and pouring sweat down his face. A sweat fly landed courageously on his cheek and dug deep into his skin. He wanted to yelp and swat it away, but nothing in him responded. No hand answered the call. No arm raised in assistance. No sound emitted from his throat and even his lips refused to part. Paralysis was setting into his body, bit by bit. He remembered part of it now; Zhandoga had himself stormed the pass. Still wounded the General lunged forward to meet the attack. The foul blade the demon possessed shattered the man’s weapon. The force was so harsh; it rattled through is entire body. Pressure shot through is arm into his shoulder and then his chest, ripping open his previous wound. Immediately his strength passed and when the second blow landed Nohric only knew terrible pain as he crumbled to the ground. Without a second thought, Zhandoga stepped past him and continued to slaughter the defenders of the pass.

Tears formed in his eyes; he had failed. He never formed the message to warn Sorc. All those that fled to the city would be dead in a week’s time. Aura, who he promised to watch out for, would certainly be dead or captured. Dargo’s family would fall without mercy. Harris’ sons would surely be killed. He could see the proud young men charging into battle as their father would. Once Sorc fell it would only be a matter of time before Windra befell the same fate and then the legacy of the south, his proud family who had served the south for all of history would be wiped from history. General Nohric had failed in the one task of his life that couldn’t accept failure; protection of the south. Sighing deeply or at least feeling the burden of the sigh, Nohric closed his eyes and he knew with all he was it would be the last time.
“They didn’t take the pass you know. They retreated.” The aged voice he recognized filled his head and snapped him awake.”

Much to his surprise Nohric’s eyes snapped open and looked sternly at the robed figure sitting next to him. Every time things were terribly hopeless he would show up and offer something. But this, they didn’t take the pass, how could they not?

“With us beaten, by the Light, why wouldn’t they take it Ama?” Nohric questioned with a slight twinge of anger toward the old druid.

“Recalled unfortunately.” Amadagu stood and then turned to look Nohric directly in the eyes as if he were studying the effects of his words in the general’s face.

“They would have no reason to do such. Either you have gotten senile or I am dead and this is a dream.” He responded as he attempted to move and still found his body not responding.

Bending slightly the druid started laughing. “That is rather good Nohric. I guess I am old enough to be senile. But I am not there yet. As for a dream, well I think that is rather wishful thinking on your part.”

Attempting to look at his body, Nohric returned his look to the druid. “I can’t seem to move nor feel anything.”

“Oh that.” The old man responded absently. “I suppose we should attend to that wound and unpin your body. That stone did quite a number on you.”

Nohric held his eyes opened wide and suddenly he could see the giant stone not an inch from his chin. Straining his neck he could see a splash of red at his side and against the stone. Breathing deeply he looked up again and saw the clearness of sky. Just at the corner of his view, he saw where part of the ancient wall had broken free. In that moment he had to chuckle at himself a bit.

“A damnable rock eh?” Nohric looked back at Amadagu.

“Zhandoga isn’t much a swordsman. Strong yes, not very accurate though.” The Timewalker responded.

Clarity filled his thoughts, he indeed fought Zhandoga and his wound reopened. When the demon lifted his weapon and then swung it down to kill him, he clipped the wall edge and broke free a large chunk of stone which crashed into the General before he could jump out of the way.

“I saw a completely different vision when I woke earlier.” He commented as his dropped his head back, closed his eyes and thanked Xhuri for the blessing.

“Fever dreams; surely your chest is infected. I think this stone has rested on you long enough.” Placing his hands on the stone the druid paused for a moment and a quirky smile formed. “This is really going to hurt when the blood returns to your limbs, you might want to bite down on something.”

Nohric knew the truth in his words. Over the years he had to hold down men that had been partially crushed from a battle accident as the blood returned to injured limbs that caused them to lash out and scream in pain. The general couldn’t feel the wound on his chest and he knew it was going to surge through ever part of him.

Instinctively he squeezed his eyes shut tightly as the air around him compressed. Thunder exploded into his ears as the rock exploded into billions of pieces and fell around him as dust. Tingling sensations shot through is body as blood once again flowed to his limbs. Almost immediately pain in his chest exploded his senses. Clenching his teeth harshly his voice threatened to scream out into the air. Although he couldn’t see him, he could feel the compressed air move around him as the druid worked his craft on his beaten body.

So very different was Amadagu’s gift from his own. Nohric couldn’t even begin to understand how the druid worked; he only knew it always worked. As much as he wanted to believe he was the protector of the south, the general knew this man known as the Timewalker was its true protector. It didn’t matter how terrible, when the darkness threatened to consume, he would arrive to offer light and hope.

Strong arms lifted him to his still wobbly feet. Pain still wracked his body, but Nohric felt some strength in his legs and new the worst had passed. As the old druid held him in support, it amazed the general just how strong and comforting Amadagu was. Nohric moved to offer thanks but Amadagu lifted his hand and nodded.

“Go to Sorc General Nohric, bring them news of relief. Once you have done such, return to your family in Windra it is not yet time for the calamity that is this war.” Amadagu stated as they began to walk.

“What am I to tell them?” He questioned in wonderment.

“Tell them the Rhiya’s retreated in order to fulfill their version of the Prophecy. In that we are blessed with a reprieve. Tell them to find some enjoyment.” Once again there was a great sadness in the druid’s eyes.

Concern and disappointment filled the general’s voice. “But what of Delva and his destiny?”

“It is filled, for Delva is not the chosen, but his bloodline will be. Minoc has been raised and he knows all too well if Delvakhan and the south are killed now, they will lose the final battle. He will not allow any to risk it. He was there the first days and knows what is at risk.” Amadagu had taken the general by the shoulders and now looked directly into his eyes.

“What of me? They will want retribution against the Ministry.” Nohric questioned.

“You will have them prepare, stand ready and rebuild. In the end you will serve your nephews. Delva is corrupt of heart and the people will never love him or trust him. His sons will be beloved and in that, hope resides.” The druid responded.

His head began to swim, everything returned to being blurry. “But what of the seers and the prophecy? Even the things you have told us.”

“Follow the heart tempered by the mind and you will understand.”

****

“He is starting to reject certain images.” A female voice stated concern deep in her words.

Another voice responded deep and resounding voice, “Then he has become useless to us.”

“No not useless.” The female voice responded quickly. “So much and so many years have gone into this. We only find that much resistance when it involves his family a few places... There are other ways”

“Stay away from the family and those places then.”

“No, we have need there too many details would be overlooked. I have to probe and find what specifically causes this reaction and stay away from those.”

“If you push too much, he will awaken before the time.” The male voice dropped into a whisper. “Should we talk in front of him?”

The female laughed lightly in response. “No, it is perfectly safe. There are words and triggers set that render any such outside conversation as noise and prattle.”

“What of his bro…..” The male voice was stopped abruptly.

The woman responded quickly. “Even from very early on, he reacts in violent backlash when I have attempted that subject. Too close of a tie to the core of him.”

“How does he react to the prophecy? That is rather key in all of this.” Again the man’s voice returned to a normal tone.

“That is the easiest part of all. Each image is taken in with out any pulsing of his will. I would almost say he readily feeds on it. Even when I mention the Timewalker I sense no pulse and no reaction, just acceptance.” The smile on her lips passed heavily onto her voice.

“Then perhaps we can push more of it?”

“Maybe, a delicate balance has to be maintained. Overall the different images have to be cohesive. Not necessarily strong and iron clad, just enough to be believed as a whole.” She responded with pride. “Just a while longer and he will prove the… our prophecy true.”

“Our rewards will be great as She returns to us.” Jubilation rang strong in his statement.

****

But he had heard them, every word as if they came through a long distance away and merely haunted his ears. Still it was far away, but he knew deep within him they were filling his mind with images and memories day after day. His only reprieve came at night when new images filled his head, not from them but from a much kinder source.

“You really need to stop this.” He had heard this voice before; always at night with more images. In fact over the countless years that seemed to pass by so very slowly, the voice had come to him often. Aged, strong and full of knowledge, the boy felt a calm come over him whenever it visited.

“I have tried, I don’t know how.” The boy answered meekly. He had struggled time and time again to stop all that he saw and heard. He had known before the new image of his Uncle Nohric and Amadagu filled him what he saw about the pass wasn’t true. Yet his eyes would see nothing but the images he had no control over. Something in him wanted to fight, but it simply wouldn’t come to the surface.

He was frightened by it. Too much pain followed too much struggle. It never stopped him from trying again, but it quickly put his efforts to rest. Always just a bit more rest was needed. In fact many times he called out for someone anyone to hear him. Whether it actually made it from his lips, he couldn’t tell, everything was such a blur of pain and torment. The name of Xhuri came to him and at first he desperately called out to that name for help aid or something, anything to end the pain. Finally as the days then weeks then months passed by to the point he was sure several years had passed, he cursed that name. Something inside told him it was wrong, but he didn’t care anymore. No thing, no name, no creature could allow so much pain if they had a way to stop it. And thus evidently that name had no way to stop it. As such, there was no more reason for it. That name fell no more from his lips or upon his ears or a thought in his head. When it wanted to creep up, he simply shoved it back down.

“It is not a matter of knowing boy; it’s a matter of doing. You simply have to want to. You do want to don’t you?” The kind voice questioned.

The boy stopped. His mind stopped for a moment as he took in the question. Did he want it to stop? What would happen if he did? What was out there beyond this? The question was a trick it had to be. He had asked that before hadn’t he? And when he brought it to words he was awash with pain and torment. To request anything was wrong, it was selfish and cruel to ask for something of him, wasn’t it? Surely it was they had told him so. He was suffering so others would not. Wasn’t that noble and wasn’t he noble for doing such?

“No I don’t want to. This is what I must do.” He answered, pride swelling in his chest yet the words didn’t ring true to him.

“Ahh. And that is why you haven’t. One must want a thing before one can accomplish a thing.” There was sadness in the calming voice that made the boy want to cry. From the corners of his eyes the boy felt the wetness fall as tingles of sensation filled his face. “What of your brother?”

Rage filled him instantly. From deep within the name exploded forth. “KELVA!” He screamed out as he became aware of more and more tears falling from his face. He became aware of the sensation of his fingers digging into his palms as his fists clenched tightly. Warmth oozed from his fingertips as blood from his finger nails piercing his skin created tiny pools of blood that spilled over his knuckles an onto the floor.

“Would he want this from you? Would Kelva want you to do this?” The calm voice pushed more.

“I would suffer this for eternity so that he would not have to. That is my life that is my purpose.” The boy answered viscously as he began to fight back the tears and rage that continued to fill him. “That is enough.”

Still pushing the voice continued, “I didn’t ask if it was enough. I didn’t ask for the purpose. I asked if he would want this from you.”

The boy knew the answer. It bubbled and churned inside him like a massive wave. He could remember as a very young boy playing with his brother, sharing dreams and desires. Even when they were in trouble each felt the pain as the other was punished, no matter how light the punishment was. Surely as any siblings they would tease and walk the line of getting the other in trouble, but never in severity and never did they let each other stand alone. No, this is not what his brother would want. But more importantly he would never want this for his brother. So for this he would endure, he would hold out and he would continue. Sometimes what his brother wanted was simply not what was best for him. Yet the word was there, in his mouth fighting to press it beyond his lips. Formed cold and true his mind wanted one answer and his heart wanted another.

As if the calm voice could hear his inner turmoil it commented. “The wise use their heart, tempered by reason to find the answer that is correct and true.”

“NO!” He blurted out. “No he would not want this.”

“Then my boy, we have a start. You hold onto that and you remember it. Think on that point, dwell on it and let it temper your heart. Then perhaps you will find the want you so terribly desire. Always remember, you did nothing wrong boy; nothing wrong at all.”

Cut deeply by those words the boy curled up into a ball and wept until he finally fell into a deep sleep.




In the vast darkness while the night lay cold around him, the message was understood. Parts of his mind snapped awake and understood even though his mind looked to preserve him from the pain that immediately washed over him. Opening his eyes he saw the small room he was in. The bed of straw covered with rat urine and smelled of a combination of the rats and his unwashed young body stench. Harsh cold stone against his heel offered only pain from his foot that lay against it. His clothing was tattered beyond the point of rags and refuse covered in dirt and grime unfit for any creature. There was nothing else in the room. No, not a room, this was a cell and he was a prisoner. His fingernails, long and dirty, were also pointed and thick. Carefully, just within the door he began to scratch out the letters. Without thinking he spelled out a name, then a phrase.

‘Narvakhan, Chosen of Xhuri.’

For several moments he looked at it and took it all in. For a brief moment everything became clear. Everything he saw in his head he no longer trusted. She had done this. Ahryn had done this. Ahryn would pay. As the words echoed his mind, crushing pain filled him causing him to retreat. The retreat was easy, but this time, slowly and carefully the boy put up several mental blocks so he wouldn’t forget. Yes, he retreated, but even in his retreat he would remember.