The Silver Quarrel 8/9

[skieblue]

Chapter Twenty-two


As the group prepared to make their way through Jallor Pass, their number, including Drimm, Elf, Human, Magi, and Warrow, was now some two-hundred-twenty-six. Kaje looked about at the formidable army as they now traveled north and west. As they approached the narrowing slot of the Pass, the Host was made to stretch out some one-hundred feet. Now, sighting Cailean ahead of him, Kaje spurred his horse forward to ride alongside of him.

As he reined his horse back, the steed to fall into step with Cailean's, Kaje said, "Good morning, my friend."

"A good morning to you," said Cailean. "How fair our young friends?"

"They are doing as well as could be expected, given that they have recently experienced their first battle." Turning to find the two children riding some distance behind them, those two now accompanied by Amalia, Kaje turned back to the fore and continued, " I would speak with thee concerning those two. I have been thinking about one of the lines in the rede, the one that says: The one with kith of the Two."

"What of it?" asked Cailean.

"Hast thou met Amalia yet?" asked Kaje.

"Aye, I have. She seems to be a fine lady, and, might I add, a formidable fighter," Cailean said with a smile on his face. "I witnessed your sparring match with her the other night. She seems to possess the same quick temper as our Warrow friends." Chuckling a bit, Cailean continued, "She seems not to give up even when she has been bested."

Kaje, a grimace upon his face as he rubbed his sore ribs where Amalia had dove him him, said, "Aye, she is a tenacious one. Yet, I would ask thee to compare her to Cordelia. To thine eyes, do they not share the same features?"

Cailean, turning to look over his left shoulder at the two riding behind, turned back and, nodding his head, said, "They do favor one another. Do you think they may be family?" Then, looking back at his saddle as if in thought, Cailean looked up and turned to look once more, Amalia riding in the middle of the two children. Now, looking back toward Kaje, Cailean said, "Have you not noticed that Kriston favors the two as well."

"Nay, I had not," Kaje said as he turned to look at the three. Then, turning to face forward once more, he continued, "I must say, now that they are all three riding alongside one another, they appear to hold some semblance. Perhaps I should talk with Amalia. Find out if our speculations concerning the rede bear any credence." Now, turning to look at Cailean, Kaje said, "I will speak with thee later, my friend. I have a few questions for our new companion."

As Cailean nodded to the Elf, Kaje reined back on his horse ere turning the steed about and riding back toward Amalia and the two children.

Reining his horse around and then moving alongside Kriston, Kaje looked over at the trio. "Good morning all. I trust a restful night was had by all."

"I believe we all slept well," said Amalia. "And you?"

"After the pain in my side eased some," answered Kaje, "I was able to rest some. I must say, Amalia, thou art quite the opponent. Yet there is a pressing matter I would speak with thee on."

Amalia looked at Kaje and, with a questioning look on her face, asked, "What is this matter?"

Kaje looked at the two children, then turned to Amalia and said, "I would that we ride alone as we discuss this matter." Looking once more at the two children, Kaje said, "I shall return Amalia unto ye as soon as we have spoken on this matter. I shall only be but a moment."

As the two children nodded their understanding, Kaje and Amalia turned from the main column and waited as the children rode away from them.

As the two children rode on, Amalia looked at Kaje and asked once more, "So, what is this matter?"

Kaje, looking from the children and back to Amalia, said, "I, as well as a few others in our group, have noticed that a strong resemblance is shared between Cordelia and thee. And, as Cailean recently pointed out, Kriston shares a strong resemblance to thee as well. Is there aught thee would have me know?"

Amalia was silent for a few moments, trying to think of how to explain this. Finally, she said, "Some of what I have to tell is only a guess. I am not sure of who the boy is, but I believe that my guess is correct.

"The easiest way to explain what I have to is through a short story. However, parts of the story are not mine to reveal, so it may seem like there are gaps in it. If it becomes necessary later in our mission, I will try to explain some of those."

She was silent again, thinking. "I guess, in a sense, it begins when I was a child. I grew up far from here. Or I should say my sister I grew up far from here. Although, my parents always said that our family was from . . . somewhere else.

"One day, when I was about eighteen, a group of men came to our home. I fell in love with one of them, and when they left, I went with them. I never had any contact with my parents again, and only a little contact with my sister.

"The first I heard from my sister was when she told me that she had been married. She was still living in the town where we had both grown up, and she asked to come and visit her and meet her husband."

Amalia fell silent, remembering. "I asked for permission to leave the group I was with and return to visit my sister. That permission was denied, because they felt I should give up contact with my family.

"Soon, though, I became content again among the people I had chosen to be with. That was because, well, because of my children, who were born soon after. My son was named Gabriel and my daughter . . . Cordelia.

"It was shortly before Gabriel was born that I again heard from my sister, Crystal. She told me that she and her husband had a child now. I was glad for her and I sent word back to her after Gabriel was born. I again sent word to her after Corrie was born.

"It was a few years later that the town I lived in was attacked by Foul Folk, and there were Men among them as well." She stopped for a moment, then managed to go on. "My husband and son were both killed that night. I managed to escape, and Corrie was with me. But then, she fell behind . . . and I turned to go back for her . . . but was . . . stopped . . . I never saw my daughter again . . . until just a few days ago."

Amalia thought for a moment. "The next part I have to say is only a guess. I believe, however, that Kriston is my sister's child, because I know that my nephew's name was Kristian, and Kriston could be a corruption of that. That is most of what I have to say, although there is one other thing I feel might be important. I cannot see why it seems essential to mention this, but I just feel that it is. My sister, Crystak, was more than just by sister; she was my twin." Amalia fell silent for a moment, then said, "That is the whole story. Now, I just need to figure out a way to tell the children."


Chapter Twenty-three


All were busy setting up camp as Twilight, casting hood about head and taking staff in hand, moved away from the army and stepped into the small foothills that formed the north-western mouth of Jallor Pass. Moving some distance away from the camp, and climbing up onto the slate gray, stony foothills, Twilight stepped out onto a small plateau that overlooked the vast, icy scape stretching out below. Now, facing south and west, Twilight sat down on the frozen stone, his face now drawn and gaunt, a look of foreboding thereon. And he waited for night to fall.

~*~

"Dara, wouldst thou join me in a small repast?" asked Kaje.

Faedra turned from tending her horse at this question. "Aye, Alor, I will join thee after I have seen my horse to the correl."

"Well and good. I shall await thee by yon campfire."

Kaje, walking to the small blaze, thought back on his talk with Amalia and all that she had told him concerning the children. Such a sad story that had been.

Sitting in front of the small fire, Kaje slowly sipped at the bracing tea in his cup as Faedra took a seat beside him. Offering a cup to the Dara after she had seated herself, Kaje said, "I have spoken with Amalia concerning the two young ones. It is a tale that will bring tears unto thine eyes. Much sorrow and pain have those two seen." At Faedra's dismayed look, Kaje canted his head in the direction of Amalia, sitting at an adjacent fire and talking with the two young ones, and said, "I shall tell thee of our talk later. After she has spoken with her family."

This last statement only caused Faedra's curiosity to grow. "Old friend, I would have thee tell the whole of the story now," said Faedra a bit demandingly.

Kaje fixed her with a stern looked, and knowing that she would not cede to his forestallment in the matter, he looked back to Amalia, then to the fire at hand, ere continuing. "Cordelia is Amalia's child. Too, she is of a relation to Kriston, by way of her sister, Crystal; they being twins. She did not wish to tell me anymore. But, at my behest, she confided in me."

With a look of surprise then understanding coming to her face, Faedra nodded and motioned with her hand for Kaje to continue.

"Therefore, I would say that we were correct in our assumptions about the two children. Cordelia and Amalia were separated from one another by Dantor. Amalia was told, by Dantor, that Cordelia was killed during the raid upon their town. Cordelia was told likewise concerning her mother." Shaking his head from side to side as he looked at the cup of tea, now only half full and growing cold, Kaje continued, "Kriston was spirited away from his family when he was but a babe. Amalia knew him at that time as Kristian. I would say that, since he was yet only two years of age, the only name he could remember was Kriston; that being what he could make of his name at such a young age. His family was laid waste by Dantor's vile Rupt. She now tells them of their lineage."

Looking to where Amalia sat with the two children, Kaje turned to look at Faedra and found that she wept. Placing an arm about her shoulders and setting his cup down on the ground, Kaje wrapped his other arm round the Dara and hugged her unto him.

~*~

With the sun sinking behind the western rise of the Gronfang Mountains, Twilight made ready to cast a spell of . Rising from the stone plateau and standing with his staff before him and in both hands, Twilight slammed the end of the staff down to the cold stone, sparks to fly as silveron tip met stone, the small dark stone atop the staff now taking on a faint glow. Lowering himself on one knee, hands still clasping staff, head bowed, Twilight spoke: "NIGHTCAST!" As he truenamed the staff, all the meager light from the now shining stars was funneled into the small stone. As this happened, the stone began to glow with an eerie dark radiance. Twilight, turning his face up and staring deeply into the stone, sought vision of all that had been, all that was, and all that would be.

As he used his to peer into the stone, Twilight saw the battle by the Argon, Vanidor and Kaje meeeting up with the Drimm army at Jallor Pass, and then the group setting up camp some quarter league from where he now knelt. Wishing to discern more of the happenings around the group, Twilight said, "Ampliar!" and the time boundaries and range of his vision were expanded, as the stone took on a more ruddy aura.

Viewing all happenings in and around his person, his now looking deeper into the astral plane and all happenings therein, Twilight that a new entity had set foot on Mithgar. As to this being origination or purpose, Twilight did not know. As to his location upon Mithgar, Twilight did know, for he now viewed the traveler, some thirty leagues away amid the Grimwall Mountains.

Wishing to pinpoint the traveler's exact location, Twilight said, "Estrecho!" This attempt was thwarted by an unseen power. Bearing down on his staff and concentrating harder, focusing his thought into a more intense state of awareness, he said, "Delgado! Estrecho!" and the tendril of his awareness sought to once again gain entry into the traveler's astral being.

As his sight turned downward once more, Twilight found that he now looked upon a being sitting cross-legged on the ground. The man appeared as if in a trance. Seeking to determine the man's current state of being, Twilight said, "De el Alma A mi Ojos!" and he viewed the man's soul. Twilight saw that the man's astral being seemed to be removed from his body, tethered only be a faint lifeline. As he looked on, he observed the man's being return to his body, and not wishing to be discovered, Twilight said, "Cesar vision!"

Just as Twilight's were retreating, the man arose and looked about as if to espy who had breached his spell of warding. Then, as the man intoned a spell of , Twilight concentrated on his withdrawal. Ere Twilight could fully remove his from the man, he saw the man turn about and, staring up at the that watched him, the man began to chant some unknown spell. As the man seemed about to cast the spell, Twilight's was removed from the man, his essence coming back unto his body, his body to then fall to the cold stone, then to then gasp heavily for air. As this was happening, the that had been gathered into the small stone surged out into the dark sky. Then, as if having slammed into an invisible shield, the luminescent stream flowed back down toward the Mage laying upon the stone. The energy filled the Mage's body and replenished his spent , and overhead the stars shone brightly.

~*~

When the group stopped to camp, Amalia told Kriston and Cordelia to join her at one of the fires because she had something important to relate to them.

After the three were seated at a campfire, Amalia looked at the two children, wondering how to begin. Finally she asked them, "What do the two of you know about your families?"

Both children looked confused at this question. Then, Kriston said, "I know nothing of my family, I don't remember them at all."

Cordelia was silent for a while longer, then said, "I remember the night my family was killed. I saw my father and brother die, and the man told me later that my mother had died."

Amalia looked at the children for a few moments, wondered if they were ready to learn the truth. Then she continued with what she had to tell them. "As both of you know, I spoke with Kaje earlier today. Since I have now told him this story, I decided that it was important that the two of you know as well."

Cordelia and Kriston looked at each other and then looked back at Amalia. Knowing that there was no turning back now, Amalia continued, "This is a difficult story for me to tell, and I am not really sure where to begin. Maybe I should just tell you what it is that I have to say and then answer your questions."

Then, looking at the children, Amalia continued, addressing her daughter first, "Corrie, I have been trying to tell you this since I joined the group, but I have been afraid of what you would think. You are my daughter. Just as Dantor told you that I was dead, I was told that you had died." Then she turned to the boy, "Kriston, your real name is Kristian. Your mother was my twin sister, Crystal. Your parents both died at the time you were taken prisoner."

Both children were silent for a few moments, shocked by what they had just learned. Kriston was the first to be able to speak. "How do you know my parents are dead?"

Amalia replied, "When I left my family, I kept in contact with Crystal. She contacted me after she was married, and after you were born. She also contacted me at other times. Likewise, I informed her of my own marriage, and when Gabriel and Corrie were born. It was soon after Corrie was born that I stopped hearing from Crystal. At first, I thought it was just because she did not have time to keep the contact up. Then, I discovered I could no longer sense her."

Amalia stopped, realizing that the children might not understand the reference to sensing. In an attempt at explaining, she said, "Crystal and I were twins, and as a result, there was a connection between us. Although we had no power to control this connection, we were always aware of each other through it. When I could no longer sense Crystal, I feared that she might be dead."

"But how did you find out for sure?" Kriston asked. "And how did you learn that my father was dead as well?"

"That wasn't until after my own husband and son were killed," Amalia answered. "I could no longer be content with the people I had been living with, and with my husband and children gone, I really had no reason to stay. I decided to return to the town where I had grown up, and see if I could learn what had happened to Crys. When I returned, I learned from an old acquaintance that Crystal and her husband had both been killed by Foul Folk, and that their child was missing."

After Amalia had finished talking, tears came to her eyes as she thought of her sister. "I will never forget the day I learned for sure that Crystal was dead. It was like I had lost part of myself. I left the town soon after, but was unsure where to go. I managed to find some work at times, and also to keep up my skill in weaponry, hoping to someday avenge the deaths of my sister and her husband, as well as my own husband and children."

Cordelia then said, "But I remember that my mother's name was Una."

Amalia was silent for a few moments, the replied, "The people I lived with were responsible for that. They wanted me to give up all connections to my family, and they insisted I use the assumed name Una. I have no idea why they followed such a practice, but everyone used assumed names like that. In fact, there are very few whose real names I even know."

Cordelia looked at her mother, then asked, "Did you really not want me? Dantor said that if you were alive, then you didn't want me."

Amalia replied, "It is true that I did not try to find you, but that is because I believed you were dead, not because I didn't want you. Corrie, I know this is hard for you." Amalia then turned her gaze to Kriston before looking back at Cordelia. "It is hard for both of you. I don't expect either of you to fully accept this."

Kriston said, "I can accept it, because I am glad to know something of my family." Then since by that time it was getting late, he walked away from the fire and went over to some of the others, leaving Amalia and Cordelia alone.

Now that she was alone with her daughter, Amalia slowly extended a trembling hand to the girl. She was terrified that Corrie would be unable to accept her. After a few moments, Cordelia accepted her mother's hand. And then, she moved closer to her mother.

The two sat in silence for a while, then Amalia whispered, "Corrie, I understand that this is hard for you. However, you must know that I will never force you to accept me. I will give you time to decide whether or not you feel you can trust me."

Cordelia looked at her mother, then said, "It has been long since I have trusted anyone. I used to trust other prisoners, but they always died. I have not trusted or cared for anyone since."

Amalia was silent, considering her daughter's words. "You trust others in the group, don't you? I have noticed that you seem rather attached to Dakkon."

Cordelia nodded and said, "I trust some of the group. However, what if someone dies in the battle? What if I have to lose someone else I trust?"

Amalia looked at the child for a while before answering, "I cannot tell you what to do in that instance, Corrie. However, I can tell you that if you refuse to get close to anyone for fear of losing them, then you will end up being very lonely." Then Amalia was silent for a while, before saying, "If I could have protected you from having to face these questions at such a young age, I would have done so."

Once again silence fell between them. Then Cordelia asked, "But how can you trust people, when you will have to lose them? It's impossible."

Amalia thought for a moment, then said, "Corrie, it is not impossible to care for people that you might lost. It is unfortunate, but most likely true, that almost everyone will have to at some point suffer the loss of someone they trust and care for. Do you think that keeps them from being able to trust anyone else?"

Cordelia looked around at the rest of the group, thinking about what she knew of some of them. "No," she said quietly. "But everyone I care for leaves or dies."

Amalia was silent for a long time, then said, "I understand some of how you feel, Corrie. Until I found you and Kriston, I was separated from everyone I had cared for. Most of those I had cared for were dead. However, when I saw you and your cousin, I knew that I still had people to care about. I had found my daughter, whom I believed to be dead, and at the same time, I had also found my sister's child. Through finding the two of you, I got back some of what I had lost. Through you, I have a small part of my husband, your father, back. Through your cousin, in a sense, I have part of my sister back."

Cordelia had just realized something while Amalia had been talking. "Then, Kriston is my cousin?"

"Yes," Amalia said.

"So, then, are we going to stay with you when this is done?"

Amalia thought for a moment, then she smiled at her daughter, "If we all survive this quest, and if you and Kriston want to stay with me, then I would welcome you. However, if you would rather not, I will not force either one of you."

Once again silence fell, and then Cordelia said, "I feel I can trust you. Anyway, Dakkon told me that if you were still alive, I should go with you. So, if we survive, I will stay with you, and I will think about what you said. About trusting."

Amalia smiled at her daughter, then looked up at the sky. It had gotten pretty late by this time. Turning back to her daughter, Amalia said, "Corrie, I think it's time we both went to be. It has gotten late, and we have a long day tomorrow."

Cordelia nodded and stood. Then, as she was preparing to walk away, she turned back and smiled. "Good night . . . mother."

Amalia smiled back at her daughter. "Good night, Corrie."

~*~

Sitting near a small campfire, Kaje, sitting with his back against a large rock, Faedra in his arms and his head rested against hers, looked up as Twilight approached, the Mage's features baring a look of concern.

"Is something amiss, Mage Twilight? Thy face bears the look of one that has just learned of dire news."

"I have been upon yon plateau just now," Twilight said as he motioned over his shoulder one hand. "I was attempting to learn more of our coming days and happened upon something most peculiar."

As Kaje stood, Faedra doing the same, Kaje asked, "What hast thou encountered?"

Leaning heavily on his staff, his features now drawn as if much had been taken out of him, his eyes darting about as if wary of unseen foe, Twilight said, "I have seen a man not of this plane. A man not of any plane I know of."

"Where is this man now?" asked Faedra, the wisps of concern beginning to show upon her face and she unconsciously reached out a hand and took Kaje's into hers.

"From all I can tell, he was mayhap some thirty leagues away, and to the west. Somewhere among the Grimwalls, I would say. If he yet remains there, I cannot say. For, even as I looked upon his being, he became aware of my delving. Had I not withdrawn my , I deem he would have set a spell upon me; though I know not what spell he chanted, I believe he sought to detach my astral being from my physical being."

As Twilight looked about the camp, yet seeking any sign of foe, Kaje, noticing the Mage's uneasiness said, "If this man is indeed, as thou hast said, some thirty leagues away, I deem he is of no danger to us at this time. Though we should be wary of such a man, and be ever prepared should he make himself evident."

Turning from Twilight to Faedra, Kaje once more turned to the Mage. "Thou need rest, my friend. For I can see that thy castings have tired thee. Rest well tonight, old man. For on the morrow, we shall come unto Dantor's dark lair, and I would have thee well rested for the battle that is sure to come."

As the Mage turned and walked away from them, Faedra looked from him and to Kaje. "Doth thou think that this 'man' Twilight has seen poses any danger to us or our mission?"

Turning his gaze from the retreating, and then to Faedra, Kaje said, "I know now, chier . . ." Then, realizing what he had said, Kaje turned his face away from Faedra, as she stared at him, a stunned look on her face. She then turned her gaze away from him and toward the fire.

After several moments had passed, Faedra shook her head "no," and turned her back to Kaje. "Kaje, I know not if I can return thy love. The last thing I wish upon thee is pain, especially when it is brought on by me. Thou art too dear to me." Faedra could say no more, as she became choked with grief, and tears welled in her eyes.

Kaje approached her, and reached out his hands to grasp both her shoulders. "Faedra," he whispered, "I cannot deny what is in my heart."

Abruptly she turned to face him, her eyes gazing deeply into his. "And I would not see thy heart broken."

Faedra fell silent as something in Kaje's eyes moved her. She took his face in her hands, her lips reaching for his. Suddenly, their lips met, and the two engaged in a long and tender kiss. Memories of kissing another assaulted Faedra's mind, and she pulled back from Kaje, her hands still gently holding his face. With a thumb, she traced the scar and suddenly turned away from him as tears ran down her cheeks.

"I am sorry, Dara. I meant not to upset thee." Sighing heavily, Kaje said nothing more. Knowing that the Dara needed to be alone, Kaje turned from her and strode away, all the while inwardly cursing himself for uttering that one word. Stepping to a large rock some ways away from the Dara, Kaje sat down on the ground, his back to the rock. Running an index finger along the scar upon his cheek, he thought back to the day he received it. How foolish he had been, how brash. In his mind, Kaje knew that as long as he bore the scar, Faedra would see it and ever be reminded of Galador.

As he sat thinking of recent events, Kaje finally concluded that, once this quest was over, he would leave this land and return to the east, return to Ryodo. At least there, training young men at arms and the ways of battle, his life would have some purpose. And perhaps he could forget about Faedra and she, him, for he would be far removed from her.

Faedra slowly approached the rock in front of which Kaje sat. "I am a fool . . . a selfish, pitiful fool, Kaje." She knelt at his side and took his hand. "Please, forgive me."

As Faedra spoke, Kaje slowly shook his head from side to side. Then, looking up into her eyes and finding himself lost in the Dara's beauty, Kaje looked down at his hands, clasped together in his lap.

"Nay, Dara, thou art none of those things. I am the one that is selfish . . . foolish as well. Twas I that said the word. Twas I that caused thee grief. How could I expect thee to look upon my face and not be reminded of Galador?" Looking up at the Dara, he continued, "Please, forgive me for my forwardness. I do not wish to cause thee pain. I only wish happiness for thee. A life that will be full of joy." Looking once more to his hands, Kaje said, "A life that can continue unimpeded by my presence."

"Tis true. Thy presence shall ever remind me of Galador. Yet, he is slain. And I am not." Faedra reached out her hands and took hold of Kaje's. "All I ask of thee is time. Time to know that what is in my heart is truly love."

"I do love thee," said Kaje. "And I understand thine uncertainness. And I would not push thee into a situation that shall be later regretted. I shall give thee time to search out thy feelings."

Looking up at Faedra once again, now with a smile upon his face, Kaje said, "After all, I have all the time in the world to wait for thee." Then, leaning forward, he kissed the Dara. And as he did so, his very soul flew up to the stars, for he loved her dearly.

Following the kiss, Faedra gazed upon Kaje, one hand stroking his cheek, the other resting upon a shoulder, a wan smile playing across her lips. "Nay, do not ask forgiveness for speaking that which lies in thy heart. But come, let us sleep, for we need rest as our mission nears an end." With that, she rose and walked to her bedroll, which was near Kaje's. sleep, surprisingly, took her quickly.

Faedra was awakened by a strange calling. It was nothing she heard, but merely a feeling that she must go into the woods. The urge was too much for her to resist, and, strapping on her sword, she rose and walked in the general direction of the summons.

She had walked a half-mile when suddenly a white light flared in her path, and she used her arms to shield her eyes from the piercing beam. When the extreme brightness had dulled, she found that Galador was standing no more than five feet in front of her! She rubbed her eyes, but the vision remained. She could not believe it! A large grinned consumed her face, and she began to go to him, but he trust forward a staying hand, and she halted suddenly, her grin turning into a frown of confusion.

The apparition sighed. "Thou hast ever been a stubborn Dara." He began to chuckle softly.

"Chieran . . ." Faedra began.

Galador shook his head. "Heed me. I have come to speak with thee concerning thy heart's plight. Thou art truly torn. I see it. Alor Kaje has expressed a love for thee, but yet thou dost ever turn away from him. Why? Go to him. Return his love. Nay, list! Barring some tragic fate, thou wilt never be with me again. Adon, I hope thou art sparred of such! Move on. At one time, following my death, thou began healing thy heart. Now, thou must complete the task."

Faedra couldn't believe what was happening and could barely speak. "B-but, chier, I do not understand. He challenged thee to a duel for my hand." She tried to say more, but couldn't form the words.

"Aye, he did. But he was an inexperienced and brash warrior then. He has grown and gained much wisdom from his travels since that fateful day. This, I have seen. And thou hast not even taken time to truly know him. Thou hast not even given him a chance! Indeed, thou art afraid. I see that. Go to him, Faedra. Let him heal the rest of they heart. Faedra, live for me." With that, he faded away.

"Galador?" Faedra quickly turned in circles, and, finding him not, she returned to the camp.

Quietly, she stepped to her bedroll and stripped off her sword, but ere she could settle into it, Kaje rolled upon his back in his sleep. Galador's words echoed in Faedra's mind, and she crawled over to Kaje and looked down upon his peaceful face. "Chier," she whispered with a slight grin upon her face. Softly, she kissed his lips and settled down beside him, remaining on top of his bedroll, for fear of waking him.


Chapter Twenty-four


Time bridge: Who was the man in Twilight's vision? Did he have any connection to Dantor or to the crusader's mission? If so, was Dantor aware of this man? It is now necessary to go back in time a few weeks and occasionally even further to answer these questions. This will eventually come into line with and pass the rest of the story. This concludes the Time bridge.

The Vortex slammed shut with a loud thunderclap, the residual static tracing eerie patterns through the rocks in the small cavern.

The black stallion of the traveler reared at the sound, snorted and pawed the stone with his ironshod hooves, then glanced back at his rider.

Mounted upon this huge warhorse sat a grim warrior. Thick corded muscles were visible through the army and the folds of his black cloak. His height was well over six feet. Feral blue eyes gleamed from the darkness of his cowl.

The dark stranger slowly scanned the grotto, then dismounted. Throwing back his hood, the stranger took a long pull from his canteen and wiped a mailed sleeve across his mouth. His long crimson hair and beard were unkempt and filled with the dust and grime of long travel. Striding to the mouth of the cave, the dark figure looked out through the driving rain, trying to pierce the gloom with his cold, penetrating stare.

After a few moments, the dark one gathered some leaves and wood into a pile in the center of the uneven floor, and with a gesture of his left hand and a word of , the wood burst into large blue flames. Was this black stranger Wizard or warrior? The dark one crouched next to the fire and began to eat a course meal that he produced from his saddlebags.

As the stormy night wore on, a large grin played across the stranger's sun-hardened face.

~*~

The dark stranger reined in his great warhorse and dismounted. Ahead of him to the south lay a vast, dark swamp. The black stallion rolled his eyes and snorted, sending out a whuff of vapor in the cold, fetid air.

"Easy, Blackwind,-------easy. I know tis a vile place." The warrior pulled a satchel from his saddle, opened it, and offered the black horse some oats. The destier sniffed his muzzle into the grain, the man hanging the feedbag over the horse's neck.

Three days past, he had left the cave in the crags above the great sea-whirlpool, and led his stallion down from the precipice to the frozen valley below. He had then galloped south, through the snow and hoarfrost, led by his toward a destination only he knew. He had pushed himself and his mount ceaselessly for the last few days and now enjoyed a few moments respite.

Reaching beneath his cloak, he withdrew a small crystal orb and held it out before him. Focusing his full concentration upon the sphere, he passed his hand over the globe, making a few arcane gestures, and barked a word of , "Illuminae." At this the globe clouded over and slowly images coalesced within its crystal embrace. The man viewed these images for a long moment, then his features grew grim.

"Dantor," he hissed, "for aeons I have awaited a reunion with you. Think you to steal my power and imprison me?! You shall soon know the wrath that a master visits upon his unfaithful apprentice." The Wizard/warrior raised his clenched and black-gloved fists and raged at the dark and clouded sky. "Soon . . . very soon shall I visit my vengeance upon you, and you shall know the hand of KANE!"

With a blood-curdling laugh, the warrior quickly stowed the grain bag and his scrying crystal, and, remounting, sped off to the west and south, around the morass and closer, ever closer, to his ancient enemy.

~*~

Kane raised a beaker of transparent liquid above his head, making a few cryptic gestures and spoke a long sentence of words. Myriads of magical apparatus lay scattered about his lair; moldering tomes written in blood, jars and broken boxes of unknown ingredients, vials and alembics, strange iron instruments, and unknown machinery. Corpses in various states of dissection lay on nearby tables, some missing various organs, the blood draining down grooves cut into the tables into a huge vat, for some strange purpose. Hours passed as Kane continued speaking the arcane language, the strange syllables growing ever faster and louder, rising to a hideous crescendo. Soon, a pale green nimbus formed around the beaker and clear liquid darkened to an opaque ebon hue. Kane contemplated the spell and before the glow could fade, downed the fell drought in one long quaff. Kane fell headlong to the floor, convulsing, a sudden weakness overtaking him, soon the twitching stopped and rigor set in, rendering him helpless. His body went numb and the light faded from his eyes, his mind growing ever darker. "So this is death," Kane thought as his thoughts went black.

Kane didn't know how long he lay on the floor, drifting in and out of consciousness: only that he awoke to find himself soaked in blood from the overflowing dissection vat.

Kane slowly got to his feet. Taking a knife from the nearby table, he drew it across his forearm, lying open a long, jagged gash. Wincing, he growled to himself, "Now we shall see if this long sought potion works."

~*~

A mirthless laugh escaped Kane's lips as he ran his fingers across the now fading scar on his forearm. Only a few days had passed since he had inflicted the wound upon himself. If the tomes did not lie, the potion had altered his physical makeup and sped up his body's ability to heal itself. Not only would he heal faster, but his body should forever regenerate to its present physical state. Kane laughed again and overturned a lantern upon the apparatus table, setting it aflame. He would never again need to return to this grotto, he thought as he strode from the cave and its raging inferno.

~*~

Kane had fared west and south, around the great swamp, fording a few rivers in the process. After consulting his scrying sphere, Kane had then turned east, striking for the crags of a mountain range in the distance. As Kane galloped across the plains, he wondered at the lack of inhabitants in this realm. The only things he had come across had been a few days earlier in the frozen land. A few gouts of flame from his outstretched fingers had scattered the stunted bat-wing eared creatures, though he could sense them following him at a distance. Because of this, Kane had started setting wards about the camp at night: glyphs that would drive any would-be intruder screaming mad into the night.

On the eight day, after replenishing his stock of meat and water, Kane entered the foothills of the mountains. Had he been from this realm, he would have known them to be the Gronfangs. Up and up he traveled, sometimes riding, sometimes leading his great dark war-horse behind, the iron-shod hooves ringing on the stone.

A week later, he emerged from the foothills on the eastern side of those selfsame mountains. How he had crossed in so short a time, no one would ever know.

As Kane camped that night, he could sense the thoughts of his nemesis Dantor two leagues distant, his crystal sphere pointing the way, somehow allowing him to see Dantor's .

Kane started deeply into the fire that night, cunning blue eyes blazing with an inner light. No mercy could be seen in those fiery orbs as he planned sweet vengeance that had been over seven thousand years in the waiting, his ruthless laughs echoing in the darkness.

~*~

Dantor slowly mixed the ingredients under the watchful tutelage of his grim master, a master who had taught him much. Dantor scowled. Kane had taught him many things about the dark arts, but had withheld the most vile necromantic secrets, the ones that Dantor lusted for. Dantor had already learned to talk to the dead and prolong a mortal life to untold years, but of stealing fire from the living and the traveling the planes unhindered, Kane was silent.

Kane had come to the homeworld of the Mages thousands of years agone, bringing a host of new , to exchange for their . From what plane or world of origin Kane had come, none knew, perhaps not even he himself. Yet they had welcomed him; not out of courtesy, but of the desire for the he displayed. His knowledge of the amazed them; he not being of Magekind.

As time progressed, Kane's experiments had eventually grown too dark and unholy to be endured. He had been driven out of the city of the Mages and into the mountains, where he had set up his new lair in a moldering old citadel from elden times.

Dantor had sought him out, enthralled by his dark . Kane had agreed to train Dantor in some of the mysteries, making of him an apprentice. In exchange for this, Dantor had agreed to supply Kane with the ingredients and apparatus that he required for his insane experiments. It had gone on this way for decades, Kane's ravings growing more wild and Dantor's hatred growing ever more uncontrollable.

One dark night, as Kane had initiated him into a certain mystery, he had unknowingly let slip the of imprisonment. Dantor had raved with delight that evening, for he now knew the fate of his erstwhile master; eternal imprisonment.

~*~

Kane had sat lotus position amidst a small copse of trees. For two days and a night he had sat thus entranced, is mind traveling in the spirit world. Even as his soul wandered the , a thin silvery cord trailed behind, flowing back through the aethyr, connecting his spiritual and physical forms. Without this glowing lifeline, he would not be able to find or return to his body. Though the keep of his enemy was warded against any intrusion, Kane had gained many valuable facts during this spiritual journey, information he would use in the days to come.

He had seen kings and kingdoms, large and small. Massive granite castles to the south and west and rich jeweled palaces to the east. Farms and cities, near and far. To the northwest he saw caves and grots filled with every manner of bat-winged eared beasts, servants of a dark lord. Vast armies he had also seen, man and beast, the conquering and the conquered. One particular contingent of warriors caught his attention; leagues to the east: an array of stunted and powerful soldiers in black chainmail, Dwarves, marched in a column, most with forked beards and carrying great two-handed axes. Also in the party were thin, youthful beings, Sylvan perhaps, and small, child-like folk.

This small legion seemed to be heading toward the granite castle that loomed in the distance, the castle of Dantor. Could these warriors be his defenders perhaps? Kane quickly decided that he would launch his attack of retribution before this army of troops arrived, ensuring a better chance of success. Kane determined that at their present pace, they would arrive on the morrow in the early afternoon. With one last look, Kane began the chant that would lead him back along the silvery cord to his body beneath the aspen trees.

Kane awoke with a start from his trance, something was amiss. One of his had been triggered. With a curse, Kane leapt to his feet, grabbing a handful of dust as he did. Tossing the dust into the air, he shouted two words of , "Et Visabae." The thrown dirt formed an expanding mist moving outward from the spellcaster who had hurled it aloft, rendering visible a large pair of that gazed down from above. Kane shook his gloved fist at the and began the words of a spell designed to blast the soul of this interloper, but ere he completed his chant, the had vanished.

Kane hurriedly packed his belongings into his satchel. Leaping upon the back of his dark charger, Blackwind, he galloped in the direction of the granite keep looming in the distance. Who the spy had been, he knew not. Perhaps it had been Dantor, perhaps another, yet some sixth sense had warned him to hurry on with his mission or forever lose the chance at sweet revenge.

~*~

Kane floated in limbo, for many years it had been so. He had been cast into this place of dark weightlessness by his apprentice Dantor, in a time of weakness. Kane had been reveling in the discovery of a new and had partaken of a little too much wine. As he was basking in his own greatness, Dantor had burst into his sanctum, hurling the globe of nothingness straight at him as he sprawled in his chair. He had whispered a quick counter-spell as waves of limbo flowed over him, and he winked from existence.

Had it been anyone else floating in that dark place, void of all senses, he surely would have gone mad. Kane had kept his sanity, if it could be called that, devising a means of escape and planning his eventual revenge. Now the time drew nigh, his hurriedly whispered counter-spell at the time of his imprisonment had diluted the spell of limbo such that it could be broken, given time, and time was all Kane had. No one heard Kane's gibberings as they echoed off into the darkness.

~*~

In Griffin Keep, Dantor stormed about a chamber high atop a tower. As he stamped to and fro, Aravan sat silently, watching the Mage ranting on about someone named Kane.

Stepping to a window and looking out of it, hands clasped behind his back, Dantor said aloud, "So, my old teacher, you would seek to reap revenge for my past deeds. Oppose me if you may, but you shall lose again. I have learned much during your many years of imprisonment. Come, face me if you will . . . if you dare."

Looking to his left, the Mage addressed Aravan, "Your friends are coming, you know? And when they get here, I shall have their souls. My old teacher's, as well." With a look of self-assuredness on his face, Dantor turned to look out the window once more.

"Who is this teacher? And why doth he seek thee?" asked Aravan, a small glimmer of an idea taking form in his head.

Without turning from the window, Dantor answered, "Kane. His name is Kane. He thought himself the master of the ways of sorcery, yet he was wrong. I showed him that I was, though by his own hand, now the master."

Turning from the window and stepping to the cage Aravan sat in, Dantor continued, "He had grown careless, disinterested in the true possibilities of the power at his command. He was a pathetic waste. All that power at his command, and he chose to squander it." A look of deep loathing came over Dantor's face. "So, I banished him to a prison of sorts. A prison upon the astral plane, where none can escape. Or so I thought."

Turning and walking back to the window once more, Dantor stood silent for a few moments ere speaking. "It is of no moment. Let him come to me. With the power I now wield, Kane shall be banished once more,-----and Mithgar shall be mine." Laughing as he looked out the window, his malignantly twisted mind placing him above all others, Dantor said ere leaving the room, "I shall enjoy taking your friends' . Even now they camp on the north of Jallor Pass. Tomorrow will see them at my walls. Then they shall learn how it feels to be flayed even as they breathe." Howling with mirth, Dantor turned from the window, strode to the door, and was then gone; his laughter yet falling upon Elven ears as he descended the steps of the tower.

~*~

Kane rematerialized in the hidden grot below the moldering keep upon the Mageworld of Vadaria, falling to the floor in shock, the sudden inrush of senses overwhelming him. He lay amid the ruined and rotting accouterments of his past sorcerous deeds. All had fallen into decay while he was imprisoned. Hours passed as he became reaccustomed to the material world, then, ever so slowly, he levered himself upright from the cold and slimy stones. As he stood, he caught his own reflection in a large, iron-framed mirror that hung askance upon the stone wall. His appearance was hideous: pale he was and gaunt; shrunken, corpse-like flesh stretched over a frame of atrophied muscles and brittle bones. Sunken eyes peered out from a toothless face. His once fiery mane and beard were now nothing but a few, scattered wisps of silvery-white hair. Though his life remained, he was all but a corpse.

Kane sustained himself those first few days sucking the juices from rats and other vermin that infested the catacombs below the ruined keep. As he grow stronger and his teeth regenerated, he was able to eat the meat of this pitiful game. He soon returned to the ruin of his sanctum, scrounging among the heaps of ruin for useful items. In one corner of the moldering room, Kane cast the heaps of rotting apparatus aside and, brushing the dust of many years aside, he uncovered a small bronze ring. Kane grinned; his small vault lay undiscovered. Searching about the ruins for an iron bar or rod of some sort, he soon returned to the corner of the room and levered the granite slab loose, revealing a small silver casket.

Kane rummaged through the contents of the box, setting aside strange and arcane items in his search for a certain vial. Among the items stored in the silver box lay a crystal orb and a vial of hair and nails from a certain unworthy apprentice, all that he would need to track the ungrateful fool to the ends of creation and cast his soul into the pits of Hel forever. Kane's eyes blazed with witch-fire and his hoarse laughs echoed throughout the cold, stone corridors.

~*~

Kane galloped to within a few leagues of the keep that night, toward the culmination of his revenge. Leaving his black stallion to fend for itself, Kane unsheathed a great war-sword from his harness, it appearing small in his large hands. Kane continued toward the grim ediface on foot, loping along easily, his chainmail and harness ajingle.

"Dantor has surely grown in since our last encounter," through Kane. "Surely he has felt me by now, though I have yet to reveal the full of my ." Kane patted the charm tucked in the folds of his cloak, a charm containing the hair and nails of a certain doomed apprentice. An item of it was, an item that should render the spells of Dantor useless, turning them back against him.

Kane approached the front of the keep. No guards challenged him from the parapets, no arrows sped from the arrow holes, nor spears from the murder holes. All was quiet, as silent as death. Kane did not wonder at the lack of physical guards, knowing that unseen guards and wards existed. The front gate stood open and inviting. Kane peered into the darkness within, his ice blue eyes easily piercing the gloom, instincts alert, poised to defend against any attack. No ambush came, no blows from the darkness beyond. Tossing his cloak over his shoulders to free his sword arm for any grim work ahead, that no wards existed, Kane strode into the darkness beyond.

~*~

Kane again checked his scrying globe. He was not mistaken; it was indeed the spoor of Dantor that he had discovered. He deduced from the information at hand that his enemy of old dwelt upon one of the nearby grey planes, and indeed there were many, spread out into the vastness of eternity. Kane scowled, for he would not turn aside from the matters at hand to reap vengeance upon this foe of old; that could wait. At the present time, a kingdom beckoned.

~*~

Kane fled before his former royal guards, his stallion's hooves beating out a cadence on the packed earth of the road. The Road of Kings it was called, for Kane had named it himself four hundred years earlier when he had wrested the throne from the young and upstart king, Amon Ramour. Declared outlaw by the new democracy and with a price on his head, all his supporters had deserted him. Kane winced as he shifted in the saddle, the poison the broadheaded arrow protruding into his back beginning to take effect. The arrow shot from the bow of a trusted advisor turned traitor. That same traitor now lay in a congealing pool of his own blood beside the onyx throne of Andasulia . . . "I must make the tower," he grunted, his senses swimming. Only at his tower laboratory did he have the charms and spells to open a rift in space and time. Only if he could make it to his lair could he escape this plane and certain death. As Kane's stallion slowed from exhaustion, the guards of the new government closed in behind.

~*~

"It is here that he crossed over," said Kane, pointing to a spot on the wall. "And here I shall follow."

"You must stay. I COMMAND IT!" said the man standing next to him, a small and weak man in comparison to Kane's six foot, eight inch frame.

"You command it?" questioned Kane, turning toward the insignificant monarch that cowered at his side. Kane's laughs filled the hall. "HAH! You command nothing, worm. Without my you would not even be king." Kane turned back again to the wall he had been studying.

King Hanamon threw open his royal robes and drew a gem-incrusted dagger from within. Before he could plunge it into the dark heart of his court sorcerer, Kane spun and encircled his wrist in a grip of iron. The king screamed as the bones splinted, the blade spinning of the lay useless in the corner. Kane's other hand clamped upon his skinny throat, lifting him from the ground. Hanamon could only whimper as the sorcerer fixed his eyes upon him, eyes that seemed to the king to be the very pits of doom.

As the slammed shut, falling in upon itself, the servant screamed, running from the hall. What she had seen in that dim hallway was impressed on her mind for the rest of her life. Back in the dim light of that selfsame hallway, the shrunken and twisted corpse of her beloved king stared at the intricate ceiling with dead eyes.