The Commanding Stone Part 5

"I cannot tell you where it is because it has veiled itself. It walks unseen through this world. But I can tell you where you can find Gerin Atreyano."

Tyne didn't care much about the man who awakened the demon. Why should he? Did he know what it would do? But the more he thought about it, the more he felt he should be interested in this man. If he did call the thing, maybe he can tell me how to find it. If he won't help me willingly, I'll make him tell me. Once I understand the stone, he won't be able to keep from me what I want. And when I have what I need, I'll kill him. If he called the demon, he'll feel my wrath. And anyone who helped him.

"Who is this Gerin Atreyano, and where can I find him?"

"He is the King of Khedesh," said the stranger. "He is also a wizard, a devious and manipulative creature who is said to have killed his own father to take the throne. He used his magic to awaken the Vanil. You would do all of Osseria a service by eliminating his pernicious influence."

"A king! How do you expect me to kill a king! You must be mad!"

"You have the power to kill a king, or make him bend his knee to you," the stranger said. "I told you, I know what it is you found, and I also know that you have no idea what it is or how to use it. That is how I can help you."

Tyne's hand reflexively fell to the stone to protect it. "I won't give it to you if that's what you're thinking. Not even for a second."

A thin, cold smile touched the stranger's mouth. "I have no need to touch it. I've already explained that its power is of no value to me. But it is of great value to a creature such as yourself."

Tyne didn't much like being called a creature, but he also didn't think now was the time to argue the point. "What it is then?"

"It is called the Commanding Stone. It is ancient beyond measure, older even than the hills the Vanil raised over their sacred chambers. I will not bore you with a lengthy recounting of its history. None of it matters now. What does matter is that you can use the Stone to summon and control the dragons of which you dream."

Tyne was startled to realize this being could peer into his sleeping mind. Who knows what a divine being can do? he thought.

"How do I control them? I've dreamed of them, and I can feel a...connection between me and them, something binding us together. But I don't know how to make them do what I want."

"Are you asking for my help? Do you want me to teach you how to use the Stone?"

"Yes."

"And in return, will you kill Gerin Atreyano?"

Tyne answered without hesitation. "He deserves to die for calling the thing that killed my brother. But I'm going to kill the demon, too. Let's just get that out of the way right now."

"If you feel you must, then I will not interfere."

Tyne did not like the look on the stranger's face when he spoke. It was what his mama called a knowing look-that the stranger knew something he didn't and was absolutely not going to tell him what it was.

To the Pit with him and his smugness. I don't care. Just so he tells me how to use the Stone. That's all I care about. That's all I need.

"It will be hard to use it, especially at first," said the stranger. "It will weaken you, and if you are not cautious, it will kill you."

"I'll be careful. Just tell me what to do."

"The connection is not yet strong enough for you to attempt to control the dragons. Keep the Stone with you at all times. Touch it with your flesh as much as you can. That will strengthen the bond. When you are ready to take the next step, I will return."

"Can't you tell me how to-"

The stranger was gone. One moment he simply...was not.

"To the Pit with him, then," he murmured. "I'll keep the Stone close, and if he doesn't come back I'll figure out how to use it without him."

Images of the Vanil writhing in its death throes filled his thoughts as he started walking. Kill the demon, kill the king who called it, and then...raise an empire from the ashes. One to match-no, to better!-Helca's Empire. I'll be someone to be reckoned with. I already am. That fool who tried to rob me already found that out. His hand dropped to the sword at his side.

No one would ever take from him again. He would make sure of that.

4.

The origins of the Seawall of Istameth were wreathed in myth and legend. The first inhabitants of Istameth, the Persa, who arrived long before the coming of the Pashti, believed the ma.s.sive cliffs facing the Gulf of Gedsuel and the Maurelian Sea had been formed during a t.i.tanic battle between their chief G.o.d and his son, who was attempting to usurp his father's throne. The G.o.d had cursed his son to the everlasting darkness and slain him with a thrust of his spear. The son fell back, and in doing so dragged his sword across the land, cutting away the original coastline and forming the face of the cliffs.

The Pashti held that a land bridge had once connected Istameth to the Pelkland Islands. Because of the constant raids from the Pelklanders, the shamans of the Pashti fas.h.i.+oned a great spell that caused the waters to rise and swallow the land bridge in a terrible tumult, leaving the seawall as an eternal sign of warning to the Pelklanders to leave the sh.o.r.es unmolested.

The Raimen who later conquered the Pashti believed that a promontory had thrust into the sea from where the cliffs now stood. The promontory was the home to a wicked people who wors.h.i.+pped demons to whom they sacrificed outsiders. They raided villages and towns, clad in black and wearing fearsome masks. They kidnapped men for their altars and to serve as slaves, and virgins to be wed to their leaders. Some of the Raimen villages sent armed parties onto the promontory to retrieve their lost kin and punish their kidnappers, but none ever returned.

One of the wicked people's raiding parties took a priest of Paerendras and made him a slave on their sh.o.r.es, tending to the fis.h.i.+ng nets placed along the rocky shoals of the promontory. After witnessing the rape of a young Raimen girl by a gang of men who tossed her screaming onto a raging bonfire when they were finished with her, the priest bent all his will toward the sea G.o.d and beseeched him to punish these people for their wicked deeds, even if it meant his own death.

Paerendras heard the priest and answered his prayer. He raised a mighty wave above the promontory, which drowned the wicked people and sank the promontory into the sea. No trace of the people or their civilization remained. Even their name was forgotten, erased by the sea G.o.d's curse.

"And your sister Reshel told you all these tales?" asked Laysa.

"She did indeed," said Therain Atreyano. "She loved to read about things like that-she practically lived in the castle library, her nose buried in some old book or another. And she was gifted in telling them. Far more so than I am."

"I like those stories, the way they try to explain the world around us. But they can't all be true. Which one are we to believe?" she asked with a sly grin.

Therain knew she was teasing him. It was one of the things he loved most about his new bride-how playful she was.

"Since we are the proud descendants of the Raimen, I believe it's our duty to believe that particular tale," he said with mock solemnity.

"Yes, but if everyone died, how do we know what the priest did?"

He rolled his eyes. "My wife the heretic and doubter. Best be careful what you say, else you'll find the ghost of Khedesh himself haunting you, sending you foul dreams of drowned lands, wicked masked riders, and a painful nighttime indigestion."

"Ah, but how would I tell the haunting of Khedesh from the meals concocted by our stalwart company of soldiers?"

"You can't, which means the haunting may have already started."

She laughed, which made him smile. He wanted to reach out and take her hand, but could not. He needed to grip the reins of his horse with the only hand he had. He glanced down at the stump of his left arm, concealed beneath a decorative steel and leather cap. There were times he almost forgot about his maimed arm. Then there were times, like this, when he was acutely, painfully, aware of it.

"We're near the Seawall now?" she asked.

Self-conscious about the stump of his arm, Therain gestured to the left with a tilt of his head rather than pointing. "To the northeast, maybe five miles or so. You can't see it from here because of the woods, but the ground starts to rise the closer it gets to the coast, until suddenly it all just drops straight down into the sea."

She gave him an earnest look from beneath the hood of her riding cloak. "I hope we'll be able to see it. Please?"

Therain craned his neck to look at Captain Rundgar, riding a few paces behind him. "Captain, I do believe we'll take a minor detour to the coast."

His broad face as expressionless as stone, the captain said, "As you wish, my lord."

Therain, Laysa, and the soldiers with them adjusted their course. They rode in silence for a while, Laysa by his side. He was enjoying himself immensely. He had never expected to find married life so...comfortable. So easy, as if he'd been missing a part of his life and only recognized its absence after he'd found it. Of course Laysa has everything to do with that. Father picked well when he made these arrangements, though the G.o.ds know why he never did anything about it. Before Abran's death, he'd made overtures to the Oldanns of Rentioch, but a formal engagement had never been made. Of course, there'd been an invasion to deal with.

After Gerin had been crowned king, he spoke to Therain about the prudence of trying to cement support for him by having Therain wed Laysa sooner rather than later. The commoners were still mostly in awe of Gerin after witnessing the incredible display of power he had used to drive back the invasion force of Havalqa, both on land and at sea. But many among the n.o.bility regarded him with open suspicion because of his magic and the rumors surrounding the manner of his father's death.

Therain had obliged, knowing full well that his marriage was for political gain. It was a fact of his existence he'd accepted since he was old enough to understand it. And I apparently understand it better than my thick-headed older brother, who seems determined to die a bachelor.

"I wonder how your sister is doing," said Laysa after they had pa.s.sed through the woods and were once more on open ground. The rise of the land ahead of them was now clearly visible. "I only met her briefly when she was married to Baris Toresh. It will be interesting to see if being wed and moving so far from the only home she'd ever known has changed her."

Therain barked a laugh. "Kindled some compa.s.sion in her icy heart? Blunted a bit of her haughty arrogance? Softened her hard-as-stone demeanor?"

Laysa gave him an annoyed look. "That's not what I meant."

"Of course it is. You forget that dear Claressa is not only my sister but my twin. I know her moods, both good and bad. I know she feels she is almost a G.o.ddess cast alone to earth who must suffer unduly and quite unfairly by having to endure the presence of us mere mortals, as if we were all a particularly odious form of grime she'd managed to step in with her delicate, slipper-clad foot."

Despite herself, Laysa laughed. "I can hardly imagine how magnificent Reshel's storytelling ability must have been if you feel so inferior in comparison."

"Oh, I have my moments. But they're usually when I'm talking about Claressa."

That night, sleeping beneath a crescent moon knifed through with frosted slivers of clouds, Therain dreamed.

He stood in a clearing in the woods. He knew he was waiting for something, but did not know what. The sense that he was supposed to remember something was very strong, but the more he tried to grasp at the elusive memory, the more it receded.

He heard movement in the trees, the soft sound of animal paws stepping through dry underbrush. The sounds came from all sides, circling him slowly.

Wolves stepped into the clearing, their eyes s.h.i.+ning in the darkness. He counted seven, equally s.p.a.ced around him, cutting off any chance he had of fleeing.

Yet he felt no desire to flee. He was not afraid of the wolves. He sensed, somehow, that they meant him no harm. There was a connection of some kind between him and the animals. He could feel them in his mind, their own sense of curiosity as to what was happening here. They had come here for a reason they did not understand, following a strange yet alluring scent they had never before encountered.

More movement in the trees, followed by more animals entering the clearing. Deer, rabbits, foxes, wild dogs. None of them paid the least attention to each other. Therain watched, fascinated, as a hare settled back on its haunches between the forelegs of one of the wolves, the tips of its ears nearly brus.h.i.+ng the wolf's lolling tongue.

They were all watching him. He felt all of them in his mind now, a jumble of noise that threatened to crowd out his own thoughts. The animals were confused, some were afraid, but despite their fear something stronger kept them rooted to the clearing.

They want something from me, he realized.

As one, the wolves threw back their heads and yowled, shattering the still quiet of the night. The other animals flinched but did not run.

"Stop that," said Therain. The wolves halted their yowling. "Go away." The noise in his mind was making his head hurt. "I don't have anything for you. Go away and leave me alone."

Some of the animals c.o.c.ked their heads at him quizzically. But somehow they understood him. He felt his command reach out to them through the connection in his mind, and it was that connection, the silent one he did not understand, that they obeyed.

In a few moments the clearing was empty. He heard them moving away through the dark trees, leaving him alone and confused, with a throbbing in his temples.

"You were talking in your sleep," said Laysa after Therain stirred awake and propped himself up on his elbows.

"Oh? Did I say anything incriminating I need to apologize for?"

"Not that I could hear. Most of that will wait, of course, until Claressa and I can sit down for a private chat and discuss, in excruciating detail, your history with the ladies."

"I expect you think a comment like that should make the blood drain from my face and my b.a.l.l.s shrivel into my belly, but the sad truth of the matter is that my 'history with the ladies,' as you so quaintly put it, contains very little other than an occasional dalliance with the daughters of some local va.s.sals and, on a few very drunken occasions, visits to one of the brothels in Padesh. And I was so drunk I honestly don't think I can remember which one. The front door was red. But then again, I think most of them are."

Laysa slapped his shoulder. "Therain! How dare you tell me such things!"

Captain Rundgar tried to cover a burst of laughter with a sudden cough.

Therain could not help smiling. "Sorry. I thought that's what you were asking about."

He recalled nothing of the strange dream. After breakfast they broke camp and rode toward the sea. They pa.s.sed a number of crumbled buildings that may have once been outposts along a road, the ruts of which were just barely visible beneath the tall ga.s.ses. Wherever the road once went, it had not been traveled in many years.

Within sight of the Seawall, they came across the long abandoned ruins of a small village. Little remained; most of it had been swept away in the ravages of time. A few foundation stones poked from the soil here and there, their edges worn and blunted by the elements, their surfaces dark and stained. Occasionally enough remained to suggest the shape of the building that had once stood there. On the seaward side of the ruins they found a ring of stones that had once been a tower. It had toppled toward the south, depositing a jumbled line of stones to mark where it fell like a makes.h.i.+ft cairn.

"I wonder if this was a village of the wicked people in the Raimen story?" said Laysa as she stepped into the broken ring of the tower.

Therain entered behind her. "Well, for one thing, I really don't think these ruins are old enough. The story of the priest and Paerendras was supposed to have happened-"

She wheeled on him, hands on her hips, a sharp look in her eye. "Don't be so literal! I know the story isn't real, but it's fun to believe that this was a part of it, that we're standing in a piece of the story you told me yesterday." She shook her head in dismay. "I swear, if your sister Reshel was here she'd thump you on the head for ruining such a poetic moment."

He stopped short, surprised by his wife's outburst. "Sorry. I'll try not to be so literal from now on. I'll speak only in similes and metaphors. My speech will become wholly incomprehensible to everyone, which will lead priests, scholars, and the unwashed commoner to believe I am a prophet-no, an oracle!-and that if they could only decipher the profound meaning buried within my inscrutable mutterings they would gain heretofore unimaginable power, wisdom, and wealth. But mostly they will gain a headache from thinking about it too much."

Laysa was holding her stomach, doubled over with laughter. She straightened, wiped tears from her eyes, and kissed him. "I'm so glad you can make me laugh. I don't know what I would have done if my father had married me off to some dour, humorless-"

"And smelly. Don't forget smelly."

"And smelly old man. G.o.ds above us, I'm lucky to have you." She twined her fingers in his.

No, I'm the lucky one. Hand in hand they walked to the edge of the Seawall and stared down the five hundred foot drop into the churning, frothy waves.

He had never been happier. Which made part of him wonder, as he was wont to do, what disaster would happen next to bring it all cras.h.i.+ng down.

Over the next few days, Therain grew increasingly aware of the wildlife around him. He could sense birds in the sky, and would turn to look behind him at the circling hawks he knew, somehow, were there. He felt the presence of rabbit warrens and squirrel nests as if they were glowing with some secret light only he could see. He pointed toward a ridgeline late one afternoon and said, "Here come some deer." A few moments later a doe and three fawns crested the ridge, their sleek bodies silhouetted by the bronzed twilight sky.

"How did you know that?" asked Laysa.

He shrugged, having no idea how to answer. He hadn't even intended to point them out. It just happened, a reflex more than anything. "I don't know. I just had a sense they were there."

She gave him a long, penetrating stare, then turned to look at the deer. After pausing for a few seconds, the deer disappeared once more behind the ridge.

As if a wall had fallen away in his mind, he suddenly remembered the dreams he'd been having. The animals in the clearing, the connection he felt to them. All of it. Until now he'd awakened each morning with a groggy sense that he'd had a strange dream, but the details eluded him, and Therain was not one to waste time pondering dreams. He'd shrugged it off and gotten on with his day.

But now he remembered. Reflecting on them, he felt that somehow they were more than dreams. That they represented a kind of truth, even as a part of him considered it absurd. I don't have any connection with animals, he told himself. It's just a coincidence. Nothing more, nothing less.

The awareness of animals, however, continued to grow stronger, until he had to admit that something strange was going on. He made a conscious attempt to see if he could accurately tell where animals were located. He was uncanny in his ability to sense them.

He was not wrong once.

One night around their fire he confided to Laysa and Captain Rundgar what was happening. The other soldiers were around their own fire and out of earshot. He did not want everyone to think he had gone crazy.