Destiny (2 page)

Haradin took a couple of steps forward with his hands clasped behind his back, considering his reply. He stopped in front of the throne and addressed the King.

“I have no idea how we might take advantage of what we’ve discovered so far. It was only yesterday that I found out about all this. I need time to study the implications, my Lord. But I can confirm with absolute certainty the importance of having found three of the secret Ilenian temples, and the medallions which the young Chosen bear.”

King Solin stood up.

“Time is a luxury we don’t have, Haradin. The Norghanians are ravaging the east of the Kingdom and will soon be here. The Noceans are regrouping their troops in Silanda and will presently be marching in our direction. We have less than two weeks. I’ve summoned all able-bodied men here. Rilentor will be under siege by two hosts so numerous that they’ll stretch as far as the eye can see, not a speck of Rogdonian land for leagues around will be unmarked by enemy boots. The invading tide will flood every corner. Norghanian banners to the north and west and Nocean emblems covering the south: the sight will eat at the hearts of all Rogdonians behind the wall of Rilentor. This is our last desperate stand. Resist or die. And we shall resist! Rogdonians we are and here we shall resist, to the last man!”

Gerart looked at his father, pride shining in his eyes.

“Haradin, you have three days to decide which course to follow. Meanwhile we’ll close diplomatic contacts and prepare the city for the inevitable final siege. I have to try to convince the highland tribes to help us. The rest of our allies don’t dare come out in our favor. Damned cowards!”

Hearing this, Komir’s interest was stirred.

“The Norriel, will they support Rogdon?” he asked the King.

“Your people have not spoken yet,” Urien said.

“I’ll summon them,” said Solin. “But if they haven’t spoken yet, I fear they won’t come to our aid. As to you, consider yourselves my guests.”

The Queen rose.

“Urien, please make sure that adequate lodgings are prepared for our guests, here in the palace. They’ll need washing, appropriate clothes and food. Their present state is a clear indication of the many trials they have endured. Let us do all we can so that they recover their strength and feel comfortable in our midst,” she said, and her smile was like a blessing.

“By all means, your Majesty,” the Counselor replied. “So it shall be done.”

The Queen turned to Aliana, who looked at her with surprise. “Young Healer, all the other Healers of the Order of Tirsar, have moved to the capital to help the victims of this war. Their help and efforts to alleviate the pain which this pitiless war inflicts upon us are invaluable. Your sisters are working day and night, alleviating the suffering of those wounded and sick. They are a blessing from the heavens.”

“Thank you for your kind words, your Majesty,” Aliana said. “It’s our duty, we live to heal those who need it. It’s our calling.”

“I can’t find the words to express my thanks for all your Order is doing for the Kingdom.”

“Are they all here? Sorundi too, the Mother Healer of the Order?”

“Yes, all of them, she’s here too. She’s… tending to a very important patient… very gravely wounded… I pray for him all day…”

Aliana stared at her, deeply touched.

The Queen looked at her husband, but he remained silent.

“You’d better go and see her… Sorundi will explain the situation. Perhaps… perhaps you’ll be able to help… as you did with my son Gerart when he was poisoned. Although the case is very different…” the Queen said with tears welling up in her eyes.

“By all means, your Majesty,” Aliana said, and bowed.

“Gerart, take the Healer to the Mother of her Order,” the Queen said.

Nobody spoke for a moment, and a heavy silence fell on the hall.

“In three days we shall decide how to proceed,” the King stated, his eyes on Haradin, “You may go now.”

Night was falling over the Western Tower, the place which Haradin considered his home away from his true home, there in the capital of the kingdom. The tower rose regally, adjacent to the imposing Royal Castle with its six round towers. The Mage’s tower, as opposed to the royal ones, was narrower and darker, as if the mystical arts Haradin practiced inside it had blackened it with the passing of time, whereas those of the Royal Castle remained spotless, to delight the eyes of anyone who looked at them.
Nonsense
, he thought, and went up the winding stone staircase to the highest and narrowest part of the tower: the pigeon-loft.

It was not exactly a pigeon-loft in the strictest meaning of the word, even though that was what it had originally been prepared as. Here rested those very special creatures, bred to travel the sky and fly in search of very specific and unique destinations. He went up to one of the birds and carefully took off the leather hood which covered its head. The enormous white falcon looked at its master and the surroundings with quick movements of eyes and head. Haradin always felt wonder at the sight of these singular birds. They were bigger than a royal eagle, and their plumage was as white as a dove’s. But they belonged to the falcon family. They were unequalled hunters and equally outstanding as messengers. A very special mastery was required to train them, but the Watchers had been doing this in secret for centuries.

“It’s time to find your Keeper,” he whispered to the great bird.

Carefully he fastened the message to its right leg and loosened the leather cord which tethered the bird to its wooden perch. The intelligent bird stepped onto Haradin’s wrist and waited. The Mage walked out onto the elevated balcony and breathed the night air as he watched the sky.

“Take wing,” he whispered, and launched it from his arm. The falcon soared into the air and disappeared in the darkness.

Haradin repeated the process with four other falcons.

He had to make his brothers, the Keepers of the Enigma, come back. He needed them here to help him control the very difficult situation which was developing. Three of the Chosen, of the Bearers, had come to his door: unbelievably, unexpectedly. What was unfolding was serious… very serious. Haradin watched the last of the falcons into the distance, hoping they would all make it safely to their destinations. He needed the Keepers with him. What he had feared so much was beginning to happen. Worry had been eating at his stomach for a long time, knowing as he did what was to come. It was a future, a destiny, as black as the soul of a demon.

A strange sensation which he immediately identified put him on his guard. He tensed and held his staff firmly. He felt magic: powerful, very close. It was as if someone had thrown a rock into a still pool, the pool of energy within him. The disturbing waves which resulted were unmistakable.

“Only a brave man or a fool would dare trouble a Mage in his tower in the middle of the night,” Haradin said without turning round. “Which one are you, Komir?”

“Both,” the young man replied, with a cold voice.

Haradin turned and saw Komir appear, crouching amid the shadows of the pigeon-loft.

“I don’t know how you managed to fool the Royal Guard and reach my rooms. It’s a real feat, young Norriel.”

“It wasn’t that hard.”

“A feat, and also a foolish act…”

“Perhaps. But you owe me answers, I need to understand.”

Haradin gave a worried sigh. The young Norriel was behaving impulsively and rashly.

“Komir, I owe nothing to no one.”

“Don’t try to play games with me, Mage,” Komir said, “I know you have crucial information and I need to know.”

“I can feel much pain inside you, Komir.

“I appreciate your concern for my wellbeing,” Komir said grimly. “But it would be better if you told me all you know.”

“It makes me sad to see the only son of Mirta and Ulis hurt like this.”

“Don’t you dare mention their names!” Komir was so distressed he put his hand on the pommel of his sword, hardly knowing he was doing so.

Haradin could see the overwhelming pain in the eyes of the young Norriel. He had to handle the situation with extreme care or there might be a very unfortunate accident: an accident which they would both regret.

Haradin turned his right wrist, and on the palm of his hand there appeared a burning flame.

Komir took a step back, and his medallion gave a flash.

“I don’t mean to harm you, Komir. You know that. Listen to your heart, not the anger of pain.”

“Sure, that’s why you’ve conjured a flame…”

“No, Komir, I’ve conjured it to warn you that steel has no power over magic.”

The medallion flashed once again.

“Your medallion is warning you of the danger,” Haradin said softly. “It detects magic. But it doesn’t know what to do, because it can’t interpret the feelings of anger and doubt in your mind.”

Komir shook his head and took a deep breath, exhaling from his stomach. At once, a protective sphere rose around him.

“Very well done, Komir. You’ve managed to calm yourself, and the medallion has protected you against my magic. The power and intelligence of the Ilenians who forged such incredible magic artifacts is astounding.”

He looked for a moment at Komir and put out the flame in his hand.

Komir’s protective barrier disappeared.

“I might teach you a great deal about your Gift, and how to use that medallion which hangs at your neck…”

“That’s not what I came here for, Haradin.”

“Answers…”

“Yes, answers. That’s what I want.”

“I suppose I can give you some,” Haradin said in a friendly tone, seeing that nothing would deter Komir.

The young man was determined, and if he did not get satisfactory answers, the situation might get out of hand, and Haradin did not want that. On the other hand, he could not tell him everything he knew: not at that moment, not in that particular place. Komir would not understand; he would put the wrong interpretation on things, and it might lead to trouble. He must be careful in choosing the replies he gave the young man.

“Why did you say we already knew each other?”

“Because it’s the truth.”

“I don’t remember ever seeing you before,” Komir said.

“You were very little then, a baby in fact. You’d just turned one-year-old when our destinies crossed.”

“You say… I was a baby? Was it you who brought me to my parents?”

“That’s right, it was me.”

“Why?” Komir, said

“Before we go on, let me offer you my most sincere condolences. Your parents’ death has been an irreplaceable loss and leaves a profound sorrow in my soul. They were two extraordinary people, with no room for anything but nobility and goodness in their hearts. I know for a fact that they loved you very much, Komir. I still find it hard to believe that I’ll never see them again in their home in the mountains.”

“Why?” Komir repeated. This time his tone was tenser.

“Mirta and Ulis were good friends of mine. We’d known each other for a long time, from my travels and expeditions to the highlands. I loved them, they always welcomed me in their home and showed me a hospitality I could never repay. They always treated me with the highest regard out of the goodness of their hearts. In those days I often roamed the Norriel lands. It was another time, and I was younger…”

Komir looked at him, frowning.

“Don’t let my appearance deceive you. I’m really quite a lot older than I look… In those days I traveled a lot in the highlands and the whole range north of your people’s domains. I also used to visit a certain Witch who lives there, for her Gift and her mystical wisdom. I still do so nowadays, when circumstances allow me to.”

“You mean Amtoko?” Komir interrupted in surprise.

“Yes, the Silver Witch, as she’s known among your people. Her Gift is as unique as it is rare. She’s been extremely useful in my search. Besides, I’d say we have a pretty good relationship. Not that I’d say we’re friends, because she’s far too unlike anyone else for that, but there’s a certain warmth and camaraderie between us… She cares for her people, her beloved Norriel, as I do for mine, the Rogdonians. We’re linked by common interests, so we help each other.”

“Tell me more about my parents…”

“As I was saying, we had a great friendship. One evening, as we were having dinner, while Ulis was fetching more wood for the fire, Mirta told me that her greatest woe in life was not being able to give Ulis a child. He had never reproached her, being a kind, honorable man, but Mirta knew it was what the highlander most wanted. And not just him: she too would have given anything to be able to raise a child. I’ll never forget that evening, that conversation. Your mother was a great woman, with an indomitable spirit. A pure Norriel matriarch. Some years later, one desperate night, you fell into my lap, so to speak. When I looked into your eyes I knew at once what to do, who I should take you to, who would raise and protect you as though you were her very own son. And that was how I came to head for the Ampar Mountains and the village of Orrio, and brought you to your parents. They were deeply happy, I can assure you of that.”