her. Something large and black outside caught his unfocused gaze before it turned and disappeared. Was that a rook? If it was, its appearance would be no less unbelievable than this dire information from the most powerful and trusted visionary in all of Aldar.
Sa Silma was answering the desperate questions of Baracan's harvest master. "No sa. I tell you, I am as deeply disappointed in the results of my vision as you are. I only know that our caravan, on its return, has run into disaster. I...I don't feel that any of them will make it back." There. She'd finally said the worst. Baracan knew she'd been called on to give unfortunate news on many occasions, but he would bet never bad news of this magnitude.
"Can we go to them? Find them. The wagons..." That was General Iliana, needing to face disaster with the action she understood.
Sa Silma waved two, thin, blue-veined hands in a vague manner showing her lack of certainty. "They are out on the plains somewhere. I know not how to find them. I tried to look again today, but all I saw was the vastness of the yellow grass." Her voice sounded pleading. All of them at the table understood well that her visionary skills depended on the potentials of the varying energies involved. Her skills were also dependent on her own state of mind. She was exquisitely talented, but even the best might fail, especially in a matter as vital and emotional to herself as it was to others.
The animal appeared again outside the windows. Now it was clear that it truly was a beautiful mountain rook, glossy and sharp-eyed and intelligent as it peered toward the windows while it paced the wall. Suddenly it cocked its head and swooped downward, vanishing over the outer ledge.
"Is there nothing more you can tell us?" King Baracan demanded, bringing his eyes back and capturing those of the pallid visionary.
Her mobile mouth stilled. "I only saw blackness, felt… pain and loss," the visionary apologized staunchly, again, with deep chagrin. "And that strangers come, and we must consider what they have to offer."
The king nodded solemnly, taking in the visages of his advisors who returned his gaze with appalled dismay. There was no reason to prolong the painful meeting. "Sa Silva, I thank you for coming. Your visionary skills are legendary, and it is gravely disturbing to hear that our caravan has run into trouble. I only wish you could tell us more. Please come to me immediately if you see anything else." These last words were unnecessary; she would surely spend weeks trying to see the matter more clearly.
He looked directly at newly appointed chief counselor Beekins. "Order the lookouts at the escarpment to be on 24-hour high alert," the king continued, before his head swung toward the chief of Aldar’s military. "And send a detachment of armsors to guard the river road." General Iliana nodded sharply while Beekins looked down and swallowed.
These actions meant nothing in the face of the calamitous news the visionary had brought, but Baracan felt he needed to do something, anything... Where would they get coralin this year? The left over supplies of powder from last year would have to be rationed... It was bad enough, getting through Winter in the crowded confines of the rockhalls, without having to worry about having enough coralin to fend off the fungus.
"Excuse me. I need a few minutes." Tearing his gaze from the bleakness in the eyes that trailed him, the king rose and walked unsteadily to the heavy wood door that led to the welcoming roof terrace.
Closing the door behind him, the king turned toward the bench in the shade of the dwarf maple that bent from its planter. The hot summer sun bathed him but did nothing to melt the block of ice in his gut. Halfway across the tiled roof, he stopped abruptly. The sleek bird had returned, and it seemed to be watching him from the thick, outer, stone wall of the terrace.
The glorious mountain rooks were rare, and though unafraid of humans, seldom willingly went near habitation. In fact, the king knew of only one exception, the beloved companion of his dear friend... Instantly Baracan cut the thought off. No. It couldn't be...
Sucking in a breath, Baracan steeled himself and began to walk slowly toward the rook. The strong animal showed no sign of leaving, instead bobbing its wide head toward the king as though trying to communicate. Baracan's trepidation froze his feet, and he could hardly force one leg in front of the other. An arm's length from the bird, he stopped.
The two-foot high rook looked him first with one eye and then the other, swiveling its curved beak, quite capable of shearing off a finger, back and forth as it observed the king. "Brawwk!" the bird croaked loudly. And then Baracan realized that the talons in its right foot were clasped tightly around something.
Shakily the king tried to form an image of greeting. "I'm King Baracan," he offered in thought as best he could, sorry his ability to communicate with animals was no better. It was enough. The rook, with a dip of its head, loosened its talons and let what it carried slip to the stones of the wall.
"Barawwk!" the bird cried, hopping back and watching closely as Baracan, feeling the deepest dread, stepped forward to take the object. It was a bit of cloth, torn at the edges and trailing loose embroidery threads. Stifling a sob, the king turned the scrap over, revealing an emblem of the explorers' guild. His keening cry mirrored the scream of the rook as it bounded from the wall and climbed into the blue sky above the palace. Banjee. Banjee was gone. Baracan's friend had sent Angel with his very last message.
"Wait!" Baracan suddenly screamed, realizing Angel had left. "Wait!" he screamed again into the air. "Take us to him!"
Only a, “Brawwk!” drifted back. Far off overhead, Angel finished a half turn and began stroking for the mountains, no longer tied to the friendship of the human who had saved his life years ago.
"Wait!" The king choked on the word.
He clutched at the emblem as advisors poured from the door behind him. When he was able to speak, he held out the cloth. "Caravan leader Banjee sent us a message. Like Silma's vision, it just tells us our expedition is gone. And for us to not hold onto any shred of hope for its return.”
It was as though the death bell at the palace had tolled. What would happen to Aldar?
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About the Author
Explore the world of Aldar in the Bornlord Saga
The Bornlord Saga follows the actions of a force of newly graduated sword fighters determined to do whatever is needed to see that Aldar survives. The series continues with three books fully completed and in process of publication. Please check for current distribution of the following titles:
Braving the Wall (Book 1 of The Bornlord Saga)
Bornlord (Book 2 of The Bornlord Saga)
Return to Tibernia (Book 3 of The Bornlord Saga)
Two more titles in this series are also in development.
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