A sense of foreboding came into the world. Each day crept into the next with the air stale, hot and windless. There were no great wars, as yet, to busy the people.
There were only some who would be more than they could be. These began to wonder and to wander away from the peaceful past when no man felt he had enemies. As there was often before, there will always be ambition controlling some souls.
Because of a few of these men, there will always be danger. We now tell more of this tale . . .
"Halic, Master." Mal’m, so frightened he was shaking, spoke as softly as he could, but to no avail.
"What do you want?" Rab'k growled. He turned to look over his shoulder at the servant. Rab'k smiled inwardly, his eyes almost relaxing.
"What is so important you felt it necessary to interrupt me?" he spoke with deliberation, punching out each word.
Rab'k was a huge man, standing some three kalghs high, with massive shoulders and arms.
He had the appearance of a man who would as soon smash your head as talk to you. It was known he had murdered many with his bare hands; he seemed to take pleasure in the act itself.
No one knew where he came from. Many rumored he was from across the mountains and was of those rough and terrible people who lived in the wasteland. But no one knew -- and no one asked.
His current servants, those who remained, quaked at the thought of being in his presence. They often ran and hid whenever they heard him striding through the hallways of the castle.
They all knew to stay as far away from this mysterious chamber Mal'm had quietly entered Rab'k's study. Often they refused to go to the great gate to allow entry to the many messengers and noblemen who were constantly visiting Lord Rab'k, for fear they would have to go to the chamber. Mal’m was the unfortunate one today.
"I-I-I'm s-s-sorry, Master." Mal’m couldn't make his tongue work correctly. He began to back toward the door.
"Wait, I haven't dismissed you!" Rab'k shouted. "What is so important? Answer me!"
"Master, there's a messenger at the door," Mal’m answered, trembling with fright. "He says he has news from his lordship, Lord Garv’n."
"Lord, indeed," Rab'k muttered to himself.
He, feeling a certain pleasure in stretching his power even if only in reprimand, stood, turned and shouted at the frightened servant.
"I've told all of you not to come into this chamber unless I call. Do not fail to remember that or you shall pay the consequences. But for now, show him in!”
Mal'm stood so transfixed he hesitated.
What are you waiting for?" Rab'k roared.
"Yes, yes. I understand, sire." Mal’m, without looking, was reaching behind to find the door, ran into it, stumbled forward but hastily ran around, through the opening and down the hall.
Rab'k could hear him running for some distance. He chuckled and there was a brief twisted grin on his face which disappeared almost immediately.
Rab'k's private chamber was impressive. He was proud of this room. He had collected some remarkably valuable treasures throughout the years attending Garv’n's small empire. Most of them hung on the walls surrounding him so he could admire them.
Trophies of hunts in the mountains; some of the mightiest animals in the land died to provide him with amusement.
Some of these items had dark pasts, pasts only Rab'k could remember. Most of the others who witnessed the taking of the prize were no longer among the living.
Some interesting reminders.
At one end was an enormous fireplace providing warmth to the room. The servants didn't need to actually come into the room to attend the fire. A trap door opened at the rear of the hearth through which logs could be passed and placed on the fire without entering the study.
The ceilings of the room were high and arched into the darkness above, only flickers of the dim firelight touched at the beams forming the vaulting supports. The floors were worn and polished by many hours of pacing.
The walls were overlaid with a fine fabric taken from some sea traders with whom Rab'k had engaged in a small confrontation. The doors into the chamber were massive, reaching twice as high as Rab'k's reach.
Looking out through great windows made of a rare material allowing an almost clear view, one could see the low hills, the village of Roahan and, further out, the sea crashing against the shoreline.
Rab'k had received the castle from Garv’n for some task seemingly difficult for Garv’n, but actually had presented no great problem for Rab'k.
He vaguely remembered his instructions to "ask" the previous tenants to leave because of some debt owed Garv’n; and he always felt his particular method of requesting something was very efficient and cleared the air entirely. Besides he rarely had further disputes -- dead men don't argue, or talk too much.
He generally, and quickly, reported the problem resolved.
Rab'k had no interest in the castle itself other than it provided an excellent fortress, if ever there was a need. He rarely walked into the inner chambers except rest, or sleep; he left those areas to his servants.
He usually arrived from one of his journeys and went straight from the stables to this chamber. He spent hours studying new ways to enhance his employer's wealth and further his own ends as well.
Wealth itself meant little to him. He was wealthy in his youth. The power to rule men and their lives; the sense of control he felt whenever he cast some wretch into a prison or physically threw them from their homes or, better yet, simply disposed of them, provided his pleasure.
As he gazed out toward the cliffs and the water beyond, he realized he needed to become more cautious with the old fool, Garv’n. Power was an attractive element in the old man's soul, too. Garv’n still currently possessed the real power and his influence spread wide and far. Until the center of power shifted completely, Rab'k thought it wise to humor Garv’n a bit longer.
A knock came at the door. Rab'k, with a scowl, rose and crossed the room to address this fool messenger from Garv’n.
"Master Rab'k, I greet you and bring information from Lord Garv’n," the messenger spoke, glancing over his shoulders as he entered the room.
Serl’n always felt a need for caution whenever he came into this room.
"I also have other information you might find interesting," he said smiling.
He was one of those men who always had a larcenous look about him, like a weasel; instinctively others knew he couldn't be trusted. Yet he generally placed himself into those positions providing a way to come to the notice of his superiors. He took advantage of this effort and now was a confidant of Lord Garv’n. He was always the opportunist.
Today he felt he came with a particularly juicy tidbit of news for Lord Rab'k and was very pleased with himself.
"What is this news?" Rab'k spoke gruffly. "I haven't the time for one of Lord Garv’n's errands. I have enough to do taking care of his business arrangements," he told the man. Rab'k, of course, was using some of those irritating errands to make a few of his own discoveries.
"Master Garv’n has found something, a magical thing," Serl’n spoke quietly, looking about furtively. "He has found the key to what he has been seeking for all these years."
"What are you talking about?" Rab'k whispered with forced effort, almost a growl. He pressed his face close to Serl’n's. "What did that fool find I should know about? What key? Key to what?"
Serl’n recovered enough to know he needed to speak quickly -- this man wasn't patient and would kill him.
"What?" Rab'k whirled and seized the man by the neck.
"He has discovered something. I saw signs of his secret when I was called to his chamber," Serl'n coughed, “He believes he has discovered within the ancient writings, some great magical power. I thought you would want to know."
His eyes were now flicking from side to side looking for an escape. His fear was evident in his face, pale from his ordeal. He was almost frantic. Rab'k squeezed ever tighter.
S
erl’n's eyes were bulging, his pallor becoming an odd shade of blue, his chest heaved to force another breath. He beat at the great arm holding him off the floor.
Rab'k suddenly released his hold and the servant fell to the floor, gasping, trying to squirm away from this madman. Rab'k reached down and yanked Serl’n back to his feet. Serl’n swayed and seemed ready to collapse, but Rab'k held him easily.
Rab'k eyed the servant, released the man's neck and stood, waiting.
"Garv’n would not have sent you to tell me that," he spoke quietly, menacingly. "Why did he send you?"
"He wanted me to tell you he needed you to investigate a stirring on the eastern coast. There's a trading captain who is not reporting his shipments accurately." Serl’n was regaining his breath, but his demeanor showed obvious fear.
"Hmm, maybe that's just a way to divert my attention," Rab'k muttered, stroking his chin thoughtfully. "Now, what about this key. What do you want to tell me?"
Serl’n previously considered the possibility there would be a reward for this new information, but now realized his life was in the balance. He knew he had to speak honestly, as coldly honest as he could be, for the first time ever.
"Master Garv’n has been searching for years in his library looking for a clue to the presence of a powerful amulet," he spoke slowly, intently watching the man who stood glaring at him.
"He purchased every ancient text he could and has poured over every page in each. He has been looking for some ultimate power. He has mumbled about the Al-Esfer'n and a magical 'Ahar'n' on several other occasions when I was called before him."
"The Ahar'n is just a fable," Rab'k spoke softly, surprising Serl’n.
"Maybe that's true, but Master Garv’n believes it's real," Serl’n said. He was recovering from his ordeal, but there was no hesitation -- he still spoke the truth.
"What is he doing about it?" Rab'k asked, turning away from the servant. "I wonder why he wants me to go south?" He felt he already knew. His assumption was Garv'n's discovery revealed the Ahar'n was in the northern regions somewhere.
Baalsa'n mentioned this Ahar'n many years ago when he forced Rab'k to leave his homeland and come to this place. Baalsa'n commanded him to place the discovery of the Ahar'n as his highest priority.
Rab'k, though he had followed leads slim more than once, was never able to learn anything concrete about the legends, or stories, about the Ahar'n. He heard those legends all his life; his people particularly seemed to think the legends were fact.
"Was he going to send you on any missions?" he asked Serl'n.
"No, my Lord. He only ordered me to come here," Serl’n answered.
"Then he suspects me. He knows, or has guessed, my own intentions to take his wealth," Rab'k grumbled.
"Have you been in his presence when he spoke of this Ahar'n?” he turned back to Serl'n and asked.
"No, sire. He rarely allows anyone into his library. I came in for the message to obtain the missive to you and overheard him reading a chant from one of his ancient books.
“I believe he read a passage: 'There are masses of stone near masses of water under which there lies the great Ahar'n. Therein lies the power of the gods but only one man can be the Guardian'." Serl'n offered.
Then Lord Garv'n shouted, "'I believe I've found it, but I must be wary of Rab'k.' Sorry, my Lord, but that is what he said and I assumed it might be important to you," Serl’n almost whimpered, holding his arms over his head as he spoke the last.
Rab'k, no longer concerned about the servant, whirled about and walked to his table of maps.
"There are only a few bodies of water other than the seas -- I can't believe the stone is below the surface or why would it be known in the myths?" Rab'k talked aloud, without regard for the servant.
"There is Lutyromma Lach in Ertyula; Sunprotyu in Quiter. My god, Hurtelanx in the central plains of the northern regions. Hurtelanx. What a foreboding place that is," he spoke slowly, remembering.
"Do you think the stone might be there, Master?" Serl’n asked.
Rab'k spun around and eyed the servant, still standing where Rab'k left him.
I shouldn't have allowed this man to hear me.
"I think there is nothing to guide anyone anywhere based on such a vague phrase. I think Garv’n has simply lost his mind," Rab'k answered quickly.
"But sire, he certainly had the look of a man who believed he had found an answer," Serl’n spoke, regaining his confidence. "I thought the information might be valuable to you -- since you were mentioned."
"Yes, yes, you might be right," Rab'k, answered, thinking now of how to dispose of this nuisance, "As a curiosity, who did he assign the duty of searching?"
"I think it is Vil'n; he would normally be his choice, sire. Garv'n trusts him completely." Serl’n was now certain he had regained his status with this violent man; his composure was returning. He replied more casually with each statement. "Should we follow him and discover what his mission is?"
"That's a good idea. Yes, we should follow him to see where he leads us," Rab'k answered casually, his brow wrinkled with thought.
Rab'k knew Garv’n suspected him of having ambitious intentions, but more importantly, this might be an opportunity to find what he was searching for himself.
There now seemed to be a prize that would give him more power than he could have ever imagine.
"We'll start first thing in the morning. Perhaps you should return to Garv’n's castle before you are missed. And here, take this, a reward for your good service."
He reached into a small vault and pulled out a pouch of precious stones, handing it to the servant.
"Thank you, my lord. I hope I haven't offended you in any way," Serl’n said, bowing his head, trying to hide the smug look on his face. "I will return home as soon as I retrieve my horse."
Serl’n turned about and started toward the door, not looking back.
Rab'k deftly threw the blade he had also taken from the vault, striking the servant at the base of his neck. Serl’n never knew why he was suddenly lying on the floor. He turned to look up at Rab'k and saw more malice in that moment than during his entire life.
He died wondering why.
"Send for Jond'r," Rab'k shouted to the guard standing outside the chamber. "I have killed a thief in my chambers."
He pulled the bag of stones from Serl’n's clutched hand, placing them in the messenger bag on the servant's back and was pretending to remove them when Jond'r arrived.
"What happened, sire?" Jond'r asked, standing at attention above the body.
"I caught this thief stealing these jewels," Rab'k answered, pulling the stones from the bag. "Take him and throw him over the cliff; the sea will welcome him."
"As you say, sire. Is there anything else?" Jond'r asked, not looking to the left or right.
Jond'r was a strong man, but he didn't trust this master. He didn't want to create a problem for himself.
"Yes, have my horse saddled and ready a squad of riders. They will travel to the north tonight," Rab'k answered. "Better yet. I will go with you now and proceed to the stables. I'll meet you there. Be sure you have someone take care of this mess before you go and send a message to Lord Garv’n about his man servant's treachery."
"Yes, sire. It will be done," Jond'r answered, saluting as he backed toward the door.
Rab'k waited for Jond'r to leave then turned to look through the window at the sea beyond.
I have learned many things today. Rena'x will be proud of me. Soon, I will bring this power to my people.
As he pulled the door open to leave, he looked around the chamber and felt pleased things were going so well.
Rab'k didn't notice as he pulled the door shut the trap door in the hearth slowly closing after his departure.
SOJOURN