Chapter 16|Revelation
Oskar hunched over the small campfire, trying vainly to absorb the scant warmth that it provided. Larris had permitted only a large enough fire for cooking. Oskar’s stomach growled as he inhaled the aroma of roasted squirrel.
Perhaps Khalyndryn wouldn’t want to eat hers. The girl had crinkled her nose in disgust at the sight of the carcasses roasting on spits. She sat in the doorway of her tent, eating some nuts that Allyn had packed for the trail. The others sat huddled about the fire, each quiet with their own thoughts.
“I suppose I’ve waited long enough,” Larris announced, breaking the silence. “It’s time to tell you about the quest.”
Seated opposite the prince, Allyn shook his head, but said nothing. He had been even colder than usual, obviously unhappy with Larris’ decision to include them on the quest.
“Ages ago, more than twenty grandfathers past, the forces of the Ice King invaded the nations of the east. They ravaged much of Halvala, Kyrin, and Lothan, and threatened Riza, Cardith and Diyonus. Unable to fend off the onslaught, the rulers of the six nations pleaded with the gods for assistance.”
Oskar’s heart raced. This was a familiar story. To think that this quest, one in which he would take part, had something to do with this legendary tale was beyond belief. He glanced to Allyn, then Larris. He had heard bits and pieces of this story as a child, everyone had. He always considered it nothing more than that; a child’s tale by mothers to frighten the little ones.
“The gods blessed each ruler with an extraordinary gift, actually an amplification of talents that each already possessed: strength, cunning, charisma, skill with the sword, wisdom, and sorcerous abilities of some sort. Using these gifts, they led their armies into battle, driving the Ice King’s creatures back into the mountains.
The victory was theirs, but the gods demanded a payment. The rulers were required to offer themselves as sacrifices to the gods. Against the day that the Ice King would return, their essences were captured in a weapon of awesome power: the Silver Serpent.”
“What happened to the Ice King?” Hierm asked, shifting uncomfortably.
“He was badly weakened and fled into the Ice Reaches. One day, his power recovered, he will return.” Larris paused to take a long pull from his water skin. “I believe that day is coming soon. I seek the Silver Serpent.”
Everyone sat in silence, absorbing what they had learned. Hierm frowned, staring into the flames.
Shanis, elbows on knees, cupped her chin and looked directly at Larris for the first time since the incident on the road. “What sort of weapon is it?”
“No one knows,” said Larris. “All that is known for certain is that it is a weapon of supreme power. We must have it if we hope to defeat the Ice King.” He picked up a stick and absently prodded the fire.
“Does he have a name, this Ice King?” Shanis leaned toward Larris, her gaze boring into him.
“Tichris,” Oskar provided. “That’s right, isn’t…”
“Freeze you for a fool!” Allyn shouted, leaping to his feet, Larris an instant behind him. “Never speak his name!” Allyn’s angry whisper was like a knife in Oskar’s gut. “Never!”
Oskar hung his head. He had only wanted to show them that he himself had some knowledge on the subject. He was accustomed to being the best-informed in his circle of friends. This mysterious quest had left him feeling as uninformed as…Khalyndryn. He didn’t look up when he felt a hand on his shoulder.
“It’s all right,” Larris said. “Likely it’s little more than superstition, but it’s a belief we’ve been raised with.”
“You won’t hear it again from my mouth,” Oskar muttered, wishing he could have the words back.
“That name gives me the chills,” Shanis said, clutching her arms to her sides. “Not only because we’ve heard it for so long. It’s the very sound of it that seems to freeze your bones.” She shivered as she spoke.
The ancient oaks that surrounded their campsite seemed to lean in on the small party. Oskar scooted closer to the fire, imagining frozen fiends creeping from every shadow.
“Any closer and you’ll singe your eyebrows,” Hierm teased. Oskar forced a smile, but did not move away from the fire’s modest heat.
“What does he want?” Khalyndryn stood outside their little circle, and had interposed herself between Oskar and Larris. “The Ice King, I mean.”
“What does anyone want?” Allyn removed a skewer from the fire and tested the meat with the edge of his knife. Finding it to his satisfaction, he handed it to Shanis. “Power, wealth, revenge…” He offered one to Khalyndryn, who declined with a shake of her head. Oskar snapped it up greedily.
“I don’t want any of those things,” Khalyndryn said.
“Come now,” Allyn fixed her with his half smile as he finished serving their dinner. “If you could choose your husband, what sort of man would he be?”
“I don’t know.” Khalyndryn’s blushing face shone in the dim light. “Someone strong and handsome…”
“And rich,” Shanis said around a mouthful of roast squirrel.
“That isn’t true,” Khalyndryn protested. “I mean, it would be all right if he were rich,” she smiled shyly at Larris. “But it isn’t necessary. I mean… it’s not the only thing that matters.”
“Think back to your home,” Allyn said. “Was there a particular young man who caught your fancy?”
Shanis snickered, and received a shove from Hierm for her trouble. Khalyndryn frowned at the pair, but said nothing.
“Was his one of the wealthier families, or one of the poorer?” Allyn continued.
Khalyndryn shrugged and looked away.
“No need to be embarrassed,” Allyn continued. “You only want what everyone wants. And I think that if you are honest with yourself, you wish you could have taken your revenge against the man who assaulted you.”
A single tear rolled down Khalyndryn’s face. “I’m going to bed,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. She rose gracefully, and walked back to her tent.
“My friend,” Larris said, turning to Allyn, “sometimes I worry that your cold heart will freeze you solid.”
“I understand people, nothing more.” The archer shrugged and tossed the remains of his meal into the fire. “Beneath this thin façade of humanity, we are all animals. You just have to look deeper inside some of us, that is all.”
Oskar took a large bite from his second squirrel, chewing the tough meat slowly and methodically. He wished for a squirrel stew, or perhaps some gravy, but the rich smoke brought out the gamy flavor in a way that made the meal quite savory. Allyn was wrong. The world was filled with kind, generous people who cared for others. People like Master Yurg or Ham Lurel.
The unexpected thought of home ached hollowly in the pit of his stomach. Allyn was correct about Khalyndryn, though it pained Oskar to admit it. He had always harbored a fantasy that she would someday lose interest in handsome, wealthy young men, and take a shine to a large, intelligent young man such as himself. Despite his secret hopes, Khalyndryn had always doted on Hierm. Until, that is, she had met Larris. The revelation that he was a prince had sealed the bargain. She had set her sights on the biggest prize of them all.
“I suppose I’ll turn in myself.” Larris added his skewer to the fire and made to stand.
“Sit down,” Shanis commanded in a voice that made Larris’ head jerk toward her in surprise. “I have a few more questions. The first of which is, why are you avoiding your brother? You conveniently neglected to explain that to us.”
Larris glanced down at her, smirking. He returned to his seat slowly enough that Shanis shot him an impatient scowl. He looked up at the dark sky, seeming to choose his words.
“My brother is also searching for the Silver Serpent,” he finally said, not looking at them.
“Why not join forces with him?” Hierm asked.
“Yes, Larris,” Allyn said. “Why not run back to your dear brother and o
ffer him our assistance?” The young man chuckled to himself as he plucked the last bits of meat from the carcass.
“My brother and I do not exactly see eye-to-eye on certain things,” Larris said, frowning at Allyn. “His methods, for one. His vizier, for two.”
“Make that his vizier for one, and his methods for two” Allyn corrected.
“What is a vizier?” Hierm’s mouth twisted as he pronounced the odd word.
“Xaver is a sorcerer from the Isle of the Sky,” Larris said. “He gave himself that odd name. I don’t know why ‘adviser’ wasn’t good enough for him. At any rate, he’s a purple-eyed snake who has charmed my brother with his prophecies and visions.”
“Purple eyes,” Shanis said. “The ecclesiast at the tournament had purple eyes.”
“Bah! That is just like him,” Allyn said, a bitter look on is face. “I’m surprised the gods didn’t strike him down on the spot.” He pounded a clenched fist on his thigh.
“You mentioned his methods,” Oskar said, not entirely certain he wanted to hear the answer. “What of them?”
“Xaver is a believer in the prophetic writings about the Serpent. His method, and that of my brother, is to first meet the conditions of the prophecy, whatever they might be. Second, to move south, which is where the prize is believed to lie, and wait for the prophecy to take command and guide them.
“Take command? You talk like the prophecy is some living thing.” Hierm wore a confused expression. “As if it is going to take hold of us or something.”
“Perhaps that was a poor choice of words,” Larris replied. “My brother believes that the prophecies will come to fruition. His objective is to be the person of whom the prophecy speaks. By doing so, he believes that he cannot help but succeed.” He shook his head as he spoke.
“How does your method differ from his?” Oskar asked. “Is it very different?”
“The war with the Ice King is a historical fact. The Silver Serpent is real. The best way to find it is through research. Allyn and I have done a great deal of traveling, studying both history and myth surrounding the serpent. We have amassed quite a bit of information on the subject.”
“What have you found?” Oskar found himself sorely envying Larris’ knowledge. Lord Hiram’s collection, of which Oskar had availed himself as often as possible, was remarkable in its diversity, particularly for a village merchant. Unfortunately, the collection had great gaps in the topics that it covered.
“We know that the serpent lies to the west of Lothan,” Larris counted on his fingers as he explained. “We have a rough map, with some clear landmarks, as well as some riddles that we hope to puzzle out along the way.
“There is a book in the Great Library in Karkwall that I would dearly love to get my hands on. I would have to reveal my identity in order to gain access. I don’t know if it is worth the risk of my brother hearing of my whereabouts.
“The resting place of the Silver Serpent lies beyond the Ramsgate on the western border of Lothan. That we can find with ease. Somewhere in those mountains is Robrus’ Pass. Given that Robrus was a famous king, though of a nation long gone, I hope we might find the location of the pass in the library in Karkwall, though the clues we have give us hope that we may find it on our own. Once we are through the pass, we must then search for the lost city of Murantha. At the present, we have little information on the city or how to find it.”
Oskar felt the blood drain from his face. He rose to his feet. His legs were weak, and an icy tingle of disbelief swept through him. He swayed as he turned away from the fire.
“Are you all right?” Hierm sprang to his feet and laid a hand on Oskar’s upper arm..
“I’m fine. Don’t mind me. I’ll be right back.” He stumbled to his tent. Crawling inside, he quickly found his sack of belongings. Opening it, he rummaged through until he found his precious sheaf of papers. He withdrew them with care, and hurried back to the fireside. The others stared at him in curiosity but did not speak. He hastily removed the strings that held the bundle together, and withdrew the small piece of wood that served as both cover and protector of his bundle. It did not take him long to find what he was looking for. With shaking hands, he held it out to Larris.
“Is this what you’re looking for?”