Chapter XI

  Winter

  “How long are we to remain here?” demanded Arnin of Tesnayr.

  “As long as is necessary,” replied Tesnayr, “We will stay here until winter has passed.”

  “We have been here for two months. A party of orcs passed through these mountains and we did nothing. Since the day you were captured we have not engaged them, even when they were nearby and the odds in our favor.”

  “What are you implying?” inquired Tesnayr with an edge to his voice.

  “It is as though your courage has left you,” said Arnin. “You are not the man I freed from King Slyamal’s prison.”

  “How dare you,” said Tesnayr, “I have been fighting these beasts—”

  “I am not troubled by your past. My only concern is what you plan to do with the present. Orcs are hiding in the mountain. They have been there for nearly three weeks. We should attack them before they are aware of our presence.”

  “You are dismissed,” said Tesnayr ending the conversation.

  Arnin stormed out making one last comment. “They would not hesitate to kill you. Why do you hesitate?”

  Tesnayr glanced at Nigilin who stood silently in a corner. “You are unusually quiet.”

  “Arnin is right,” said Nigilin in a manner that commanded attention.

  Anger flushed Tesnayr’s face. “You have never disagreed with me before.”

  “I understand bedding down for the winter. Even the orcs have been forced to delay their plans because of the fierce winter storms that have ravaged the land. But when the orcs camp so close to us we cannot risk letting them be. Turyn and the fairies bring you reports each day regarding their whereabouts. Yet, you do nothing.”

  “What are you suggesting?”

  “Something is bothering you, Tesnayr. It has imbedded itself in your very soul. I had thought that you had left it behind the day we left for Drynelle. The fear of your past haunts you still.”

  “I am not a coward!” shouted Tesnayr slamming his fist on the table.

  “I am not questioning your courage.” Nigilin headed for the tent flap preparing to leave.

  “I never left it behind,” Tesnayr said so softly that Nigilin barely heard him.

  Nigilin stepped closer.

  “Being captured by the orcs again, reminded me of my home. I saw men working with the orcs. And I could not decide what disgusted me the most. It is the same story all over again.”

  “Then, give it a different ending,” said Nigilin.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Some people are here to bring stability to the world. They lead fairly insignificant lives performing the mundane tasks required by us. They raise their families and leave with hardly a mark on the world. But, others are here for a greater purpose. They tread the unmarked paths.

  “Your homeland may have been destroyed, but you survived. You, Tesnayr lived. And now the orcs threaten the very land whose very shores you washed up on. Coincidence?

  “What beats in that chest of yours, Tesnayr? Is it fear? Or is courage? You must be what others are unable to become.”

  “I am no leader,” said Tesnayr. “Sometimes I sense anger, as though it is locked away and I cannot touch it. For a long time pieces of me have been missing. I am not the man you think I am. I have no courage to attack the orcs in these mountains. I fear losing what bit of humanity I have left. I am plagued by my past. It haunts me even when I sleep.”

  “My father once told me about man’s quest for silent snow: a peacefulness that many search for, but few find. You are searching for that now and yearn for it more than most. Search deep within yourself and discover who you are once again.”

  “I just want to give up,” said Tesnayr.

  “I know a thousand people who could give you a thousand reasons why you should leave now and go back where you came from,” said Nigilin, “But I can give you one reason to ignore the other thousand.”

  “What is that?” asked Tesnayr.

  “They are nothing more than cowardly fools.” Nigilin squeezed Tesnayr’s shoulder affectionately. “I will keep the men busy for now.”

  Fidgety, Tesnayr paced through the camp past the stares, the inquiries, and the people. He hiked further up the snow dusted mountain far away from everyone. He desired solitude.

  Anxiety churned his stomach. His mind raced with bits of the previous conversation. A wheel of emotions turned his heart. Inwardly, Tesnayr debated with himself.

  Tesnayr stopped. He peered into an ominous cave mouth that he had unknowingly come to. Its mysterious depth drew him in like a magnet. Slowly, Tesnayr took one step toward the cave. And then another. Something waited for him inside. Giving in to his sudden desire to explore the cavern, Tesnayr ignored the warnings within his mind. He took that final step into the hollow opening before the darkness swallowed him.

  Tesnayr moved cautiously through the cavern. Water echoed through the tunnel as it dripped from above streaking down the moss covered rock. Pockets of light illuminated the interior as though he were expected. Only the echo of his boots on the hard cave floor filled his ears, blocking out the deafening silence. Suddenly, a dead end appeared.

  Disappointed, Tesnayr slumped against the rough wall. As he did so a part of it gave way. Excitement burned through him and he tore at the soft rock with his bare hands amazed at how easily it crumbled. Gradually, a hole formed. Tesnayr pulled out his sword. He dug faster and faster stabbing the rock with such ferocity that the blade broke in half. Undiscouraged by this, Tesnayr continued to pick at it until he had a hole big enough to crawl through.

  A huge chamber awaited him on the other side. Once through, a strange bird buzzed him. Tesnayr flung his arms up to protect himself as the bird pecked and screeched. Silence fell. Tesnayr checked himself for wounds but his skin remained unmarked. He looked in front of him. Before him a bright light emanated from the ceiling and fell upon a sword with a bird perched on its hilt.

  “Come forward, Tesnayr Deoraí,” said the bird in a deep, resonating voice.

  Tesnayr stepped closer confused as to how this bird could not only talk, but knew his name. “Do I know you?”

  “No, but I know you.”

  “Who are you? What are you?”

  The brilliantly colored bird spread its wings wide before answering. “I am the phoenix and I have watched you since before you came to be in the five kingdoms. But the real question is: who are you?”

  “You said you knew me,” replied Tesnayr, boldly.

  “I said I know you,” said the bird. “Yet you do not know who you are, so how can I know who you are?”

  Tesnayr grimaced at the nonsensical statement.

  “You are a wanderer, an exile. You are rootless because you are searching for the man you used to be. That man is lost, left behind in what was once your home.”

  “I left many things behind.”

  “Except one: your pain. Why do you carry it with you?”

  Tesnayr’s shoulders sagged as he thought about the question. “It is what makes me who I am.”

  “And who is that exactly? A man who believes in retribution?”

  “No.”

  “No? Every day you engage the orcs do you not seethe with anger?”

  “Yes…but,” stammered Tesnayr.

  “You wish to give back what they dealt you. You want the orcs to feel what you feel. You want them dead—”

  “I—”

  “You wish them the same pain that you have carried for so long.”

  “I—”

  “You want to take from them what was taken from you.”

  “They—”

  “You lead these people, but not because you wish to spare them the same fate. You do not care for them, only for yourself. Only for your own—”

  Tesnayr contained himself no longer. The phoenix’s words had awoken something inside of him that had remained dormant for so long that he had forgotten it still existed. “I do care! I have friends in this
fight! Friends whom I love! Every time I see a child lying dead as his mother mourns him I burn from her grief. Each day I see families torn apart by this war my heart bleeds. I cry silently each night because of the havoc these beasts wreak upon people and the suffering they endure. Each passing moment I feel as though I am becoming the thing I hate most.

  “Yes, I want the orcs to be punished! I want them stopped! I do not want these people to suffer the same fate that my kin did.”

  “So you do feel,” said the phoenix. “Is it courage or fear in your heart?”

  “How do you know—”

  “I was there. I am everywhere. For months now you have seen me in the corner of your eye, yet you did not recognize me.”

  “And who are you? You question my motives, yet you do nothing? Where were you when my people needed you?”

  The phoenix released a piercing cry and Tesnayr ceased his ranting. He froze.

  “I was there,” said the phoenix.

  “How can I believe that?”

  “Who do you think brought you to the shores of Sym’Dul?”

  “The wind and the sea carried me there,” said Tesnayr.

  “I am the wind. I am the sea.”

  A memory struck Tesnayr. The very moment he had escaped the ship filled his mind as clearly as though it had just occurred. “It was you on the water. Why here? Why now?”

  “I brought you where you are needed most,” replied the phoenix sternly, but gently. “You cried out for help. I answered.”

  Tesnayr threw his broken sword across the chamber and sank to the ground. “What do you want?”

  “Galbrok and the orcs are bent on conquest and will stop at nothing to achieve that end. These lands have harbored hatred for each other for decades and are so divided that they will easily be subjugated. You can help them. Prevent them from suffering the fate of your people. In so doing, you may find that which you desire most.

  “I can free you, if you let me. But you must make a choice. You have been given a rare gift, Tesnayr. You have been given a second chance. What will you do with it?”

  “What about the others? Why do they not get another chance?”

  “I cannot answer that. I can only tell you about your life, not the lives of others.”

  “Why?”

  The phoenix chuckled. It expected this question. “A man can only control his own life.”

  “I have done unexplainable acts. Things—”

  “That is the past. Your guilt has made you a prisoner.”

  “Who am I then?”

  “You are Tesnayr.”

  “I am a man and Tesnayr is just a name, meaningless.”

  “Not to me.”

  Tesnayr eyed the phoenix suspiciously. “For months I had only my nightmares for solace.”

  “Cast off your nightmares.”

  “I do not know how.” Tesnayr crumpled on the ground.

  “I can take you to a place where misery does not exist, if you wish it,” said the phoenix.

  “What will become of these people if I leave?”

  “I think you know.”

  Nigilin’s words echoed through Tesnayr’s head. What was in his heart? “I won’t leave them.”

  The phoenix smiled.

  “But, I cannot do it alone,” finished Tesnayr.

  “You will not be alone. You have Nigilin. You have Arnin. You even have three aggravating siblings.”

  Tesnayr grinned wanly at that last bit.

  “You have people all around you, Tesnayr.”

  “People die in the end.”

  “Death is certain. But how will you meet it? You asked me what I wanted. I offer you a choice.”

  “At what cost?” asked Tesnayr.

  “None,” said the phoenix.

  “How do I know I can trust you?”

  “How do you know you can trust anyone,” replied the phoenix. “What made you trust Nigilin or the others?”

  Tesnayr hated having a question answered with a question. A part of him wanted to scream at this strange bird, but he thought better of it.

  The phoenix pointed at the sword on the pedestal. “This sword is the only one of its kind. It is a powerful weapon and answers to whom it wills. And here is your choice: go on as you have been and you will certainly fail, or take up this sword. But know this, if you do, it comes with a great responsibility. Do not take this sword lightly. You must try to achieve something far greater than Galbrok’s death.”

  “What could be greater?”

  “You will know when the time comes.”

  Tesnayr approached the sword.

  “This sword is not yours to keep forever. Should you succeed in vanquishing the orcs, you must give up the power of this weapon.”

  “Give it up?”

  “Yes. That is how it must be. Use it with a pure heart and it will serve you well. Use it for any other means and it will kill you.

  “So which do you choose? You can leave now or strive for something far greater than you thought possible.”

  Tesnayr pinched himself to ensure that he wasn’t dreaming. The small bit of pain told him he was definitely awake. Carefully, he lifted the sword off its pedestal and held it, studying it. Its gold sheath depicted the phoenix with other runic designs. Tesnayr freed the blade and found the same markings on the untarnished silver. The weapon was incredibly light and very sharp.

  Magical power sizzled up his arm and warmed his body as he held the unique sword. The weapon glowed brightly filling the cavern with its light.

  “It has chosen you. Use it wisely,” said the phoenix. The bird flew away leaving so quickly that it took several moments for Tesnayr to notice that it had gone. Tesnayr sheathed the sword and tied it around his waist. Warily, he left the cave and reentered the world that he had briefly left behind.

  Tesnayr slowly trekked down the mountain and back to camp. He pulled his new sword out of its sheath and looked at it again in the sunlight. Never before had he seen such an exquisite weapon. He swung it left and right swiping the air with its silver blade. It moved smoothly as though the sword itself knew what he meant to do.

  Tesnayr spotted a branch hanging limply from a nearby tree. Curiosity took hold of him. He attacked the branch and the blade sliced easily through the wood in much the same way one would cut through cheese. Tesnayr stared at the sword and the branch that now lay on the snow covered ground in disbelief and awe.

  “Having fun?”

  Tesnayr swung around looking for the source of the voice.

  “Up here.”

  Looking up, Tesnayr saw Turyn seated comfortably in the tree whose branch he had hacked off. “Must you always sneak up on people? Why can’t you make some noise?”

  “I’m a cat and cats are very silent,” said Turyn jumping out of the tree. “Besides, what sort of scout would I be if I went around chopping trees and making whatever noise I could?”

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Nigilin became worried about you when you did not return and sent me out to search for you.”

  “Well, you found me.”

  “Where did you get that sword?” asked Turyn noticing the weapon for the first time.

  “From the cave up there,” replied Tesnayr. “I found it along with something else.” Tesnayr’s voice faded. He remained unsure of what it was he discovered in that cave. It seemed like a dream, but it was very real. “Why do you ask?”

  Turyn looked at the sword and then back at Tesnayr cocking his head. “It seems familiar. I have never seen such a sword before, but yet it seems familiar. Something Idæas once said. The elves speak of a man, one who will come from far away, a stranger who will save them from a dark shadow. ‘And he will carry a sword with a hilt of gold, with an engraved bird, and blade that never dulls.’ Odd.”

  Turyn shook his head and trotted in order to keep up with Tesnayr’s long strides. “May I ask you something, Captain?”

  Tesnayr nodded his head in answer.

  “We’ve been
in these mountains for quite a while now and so have the orcs. Why have we not done anything? Do you have a new strategy?”

  Tesnayr stopped walking. He sat down and motioned for Turyn to do the same. “If I tell you, will keep it a secret?”

  “You can tell me anything in the utmost of confidence and I shall never reveal it to another.”

  “The truth is,” began Tesnayr, “I have been afraid to. I feel alone.”

  The cat put his black paw on Tesnayr’s knee and looked him straight in the eyes. “You have me,” he said, “As little as I am. Besides, ever since I first met you I decided to make it my life’s mission to annoy you. So you’ll never be rid of me.”

  Tesnayr smiled unsure of how he should take Turyn’s statement. “Thank you,” he whispered. “I apologize if I never made you feel welcome.”

  “No need. It couldn’t be worse than what those three hooligans do.”

  Tesnayr laughed.

  “They keep trying to get me to wear that pink tutu again.”

  Placing a hand over his mouth, Tesnayr stifled a comment.

  Together, they walked back to camp conversing freely. Tesnayr made a mental note to talk with the three pranksters about their treatment of Turyn.

  Screams rose from the center of the encampment. Tesnayr and Turyn dashed for the source of the commotion charging past the cooking fires, tents, and blacksmiths. The entire area buzzed with excitement as more shouts and shrieks echoed around them.

  Tesnayr paused when he reached the source of the chaos. Amidst the crowds of soldiers stood a terrifying creature that had never been seen in the five lands. The thing stood above the heads of every man there. It glared at all of them as it gaged its mode of attack bearing down upon them with its muscles flexing demonstrating its strength. An ominous growl resonated around them filling them with fear.

  Suddenly, the creature swiped at a group of men, its long claws tearing through the canvas material of the tents and marking the iron pots. It slashed again. Debris flew everywhere from the force of the beast’s movements.

  Nelyn charged it with her sword raised high. She had barely taken three steps when the creature’s fist rammed into her lifting her off the ground and sending her flying several yards away. Air burst from her lungs as she slammed into a pile of crates.

  “Nelyn,” yelled Arnin. He ran for the creature with a spear stabbing it square in the chest. No effect. The thick skin of the beast snapped the spear in half. Disbelieving what just happened Arnin hugged the ground in time to avoid a deadly blow. Slimy drool dribbled over him as it escaped the creature’s lips. Quickly, Arnin rolled away avoiding the stomping hind feet and their crushing weight.

  Another blow from the creature’s deadly swing sent men flying in every direction. Others gathered with their weapons raised unsure of how to kill the thing that stood before them.

  Noticing a chain around the thing’s neck, Idæas raced for it. He snatched a spike and drove it through the chain pinning the creature to the ground. Instantly, the elf ripped out his sword and slashed its leg. No mark.

  The creature roared in frustration as it lashed out. Arms swinging and feet pounding the earth it flailed violently in an effort to free itself. Suddenly, it stopped. Teetering precariously, the creature crashed into the snow covered ground unmoving with Tesnayr’s new sword protruding from the middle of its back.

  Determinedly, Tesnayr marched up to the creature and ripped his sword from its flesh. Sticky blood dripped from the blade. He studied the body a moment not believing that it was there, another element of his past.

  “Nelyn,” Arnin ran to her and helped her up.

  Nelyn sat up slowly trying to get her bearings. “I’m alright,” she said. “What was that thing?”

  “A niht’anda,” said Tesnayr, “Stabbing it in the middle of the back is the only way to kill it.”

  “Do you think the orcs know we are here?” asked Nigilin.

  Tesnayr picked up the chain that hung around the niht’anda’s neck. “Not likely. I think this one escaped.” He paced around the creature’s corpse. “Nigilin, gather everyone. We have work to do.”

 
Nova Rose's Novels