Call of the Tides

Justin Silverblade · April 8, 2002

The title is subject to change.

I think I'll wait to see just how the end turns out in my mind before I give it a final title. This is a story I have been working on for some time now, and I wanted to get it far ahead before I started posting.

Well, I'm impatient.

It's geared to be a long story, and will take me quite a while to finish, but I'd like to share some of it as I go with you guys. I have left out the prologe for reasons of my own. It is not horribly important, (not right now anyway). I'll be posting what I've got done when I've time to edit it. The story is divided into 2 parts, the first of which is titled:

The Lands of Litheme

Enjoy!

Justin Silverblade · April 8, 2002

Chapter One:

Homecoming

A beautiful spring morning started the twenty first of April. The sun, a golden light above, sent out its decree that no cloud would venture near it this day. And whilst the blue above stood ever clear, the brilliant green below bowed in a slight breeze. The flowers were in full bloom, and brightened the dirt road that traveled the kingdoms of the south. A velvety purple, a deep royal blue, and a light crimson welcomed weary wanderers in the lands of Litheme. It had long been a peaceful place, ruled by worthy leaders and maintained by hard-working followers. It rested its wondrous green acres against the western mountains of Duiren. These mountains stretched all the way up to the north, and were known most commonly as the Great End of the West.

The lands were divided and ruled mutually by many long-ago warriors and others of born right. A castle past the green fields of Hurz, and just around the bend from the small town of Jardain housed both a man of born right and woman with both the passion and past of a warrior.

Slowly an old man had traveled upon a light horse, through the fields of Hurz, in no hurry. With even less rush he did make his way through Jardain, stopping at the local tavern the night before for a round of ale and a soft bed. And now, he sung a traveler’s tune, making sure to enjoy the sight of the bend as he trotted ‘round towards the castle.

“Hey ho! Ho hey!

I see the sights,

And breathe the heights,

And travel along the dusty way.

“I’ve gone there, and seen the stone,

I’ve jumped there, and known the sky,

I’ve slept there, and felt the earth,

“Hey ho! Ho hey!

I’m never done,

I walk with sun,

And where I’ll end, I cannot say.

“Hey ho! Ho hey!” the man raised his voice as the castle came into view from around the hill. “Open the gates, if you may!” A broad smile came across the man’s face as the castle came closer upon him. He urged his horse further, on a slightly faster step. “Tell the Lady Aria that she as a visitor. An old friend!”

This time the guard had heard him, and there was a rustle upon the ramparts. As the old man approached, he headed not too inward so that his head needn’t stretch too much to look up. He absently ran his hand through his long un-kept hair trying to, although in vein, arrange the grey to hide behind the black. Giving up, he got down from his horse and straightened his traveler’s robes. He heard still, steps high above him, and so waited patiently.

In the distance, a bluebird dived down at an unlucky prey. Within moments it returned to the sky successfully, a worm in its mouth. Wriggling in a monumental (and indeed life dependant) struggle, the worm desperately tried to escape. In midair, to put an end to the difficulty, the bird swung the worm up and caught it again within its beak in a grip twice as tough. The old man watched as the bird flew around the hill and down the path, it’s journey successful.

Putting his hand to his equally grey beard, the man looked up again. “Well, she had better have a banquet ready for this wait!” he shouted up with a laugh. He went back to his horse, and untied the cane that was upon the near empty saddlebags. Looking like a polished bit of gnarled wood, it was decorated on its top with a small green emerald. It supported the old man’s right limp as he walked off the dirt road to have a seat on the grass. Closing his eyes he felt the sun fall upon his dirty face. The grass was still a bit damp from the morning’s dew, making it feel fresh in his fingertips.

“Tekkorin Karros! Is that you!?” rang a female voice from atop the ramparts

The words brought joy into the old man’s face again, and he yelled upwards, his eyes still closed. “Indeed it is my lady!”

“Well the Gods sure do present surprises!” Came down the warm voice. “I haven’t seen you in years!”

“Nor I you! Eight to be exact; eight years. After such travels, your kingdom is a welcome sight to these sore eyes. But m’lady are you to let me sit here on the wet grass, to be-”

The old man stopped when he heard laughter atop the stone. “Of course not, Tek,” came the voice. Then there was more activity high above, and with a commanding boom, like thunder, the large wooden gates began to open.

With a small groan, and a great heave of his arms, Tekkorin raised himself off the cool grass and opened his eyes to see several men exiting the castle. They were dressed in blue tunics with the noble crest woven by their hearts: a sword lying against a shield. They found their way to his horse in a slow wander, and led it inside. Tekkorin walked slowly towards the entrance, letting his boots kick up the dirt into small swirls. He watched as they did not settle, but rather float towards the castle wall and attempt to climb it. Stretching thinner and thinner, they would eventually disappear just in time for the next swirl to begin climbing. This was all interrupted when he looked up to see a woman he knew well standing before him, at the other side of the entrance way.

Dressed in a light blue dress from neck to toe, she was a tall vision of beauty. Her hair, falling straight to her mid-back was a blonde with only a few hints of a light brown. It was finely combed and pulled behind her ears. Save only two small scars, upon her right cheek and the palm of her left hand, her skin was fair. The winds had etched to her face less than forty years. Her green eyes gave away her thought and mood; and they were shining now.

“Lady Aria Nathiel of the province of Jardain, it is a pleasure.” Tekkorin bowed low, making a sweeping gesture with his left hand.

A slight giggle emerged from Aria’s throat. “Tek, you know you needn’t be so formal. Come, give us a hug.”

Tekkorin found his way to Aria and embraced her in a long hug. Behind her, several yards away in the courtyard, Tekkorin noticed a small boy peeking at them from behind one of the many bushes. His short straight blond hair and dirty face disappeared as suddenly as it was there. Returning his attention to Aria, they both let go and smiled a while at each other. The vision of the boy’s face brought upon him a sudden realization of his own nature. “I am sorry that I come not cleaner nor in any good clothes. Rags, I find, are the best way to travel.”

Aria laughed again, and began to walk with Tekkorin away from the entrance and into the outer courtyard. “Don’t worry about it, we’ll get you cleaned up in no time. I’ll have one of the maids warm some water for you in one of the guest rooms. How long are you here for?”

“As long as you and Peter will have me, m’lady.” Tekkorin stated matter-of-factly. “I am sorry for just dropping by, unannounced.”

The two entered the outer courtyard of the castle. The dirt road actually continued up to the castle several dozen meters away (where it met a kind of balcony, and several chairs and tables before the castle) and also branched off down the right side of the stone building. Tekkorin could see the tail of his horse being led down the latter, likely to the stables. Between the walls and the castle lay a grassy opening, decorated by many flower bushes and hedges. The courtyard was filled with many of the colours that had lined the road of his trip.

“Of course, and we’ll be happy to have you around for a great while. You’ve no schedule? No secret meetings of magic?” Aria asked.

Tekkorin was about to answer, when he heard a slight gasp from behind a hedge to his left. He saw Aria smile and watched as her eyes darted to the same hedge. Returning his thoughts to the conversation, Tekkorin answered. “A wizard always has a schedule.” Another gasp from the hedge, and the word ‘wizard’ echoed by a small young voice. “Any good wizard anyways,” Tekkorin continued. “But mine is delayed for now, and keeps me here in the lands of Litheme for some time. So I thought I’d drop by with greetings.”

As the two walked, they could hear their not-so silent stalker creep up beside them within the greenery. “Where is the Lord of the house Aria? I had much expected him to greet me alongside you.” They stopped to let Tekkorin admire one of the hedges. It was shaped into a lion, but had not been trimmed for several days, and so had begun to lose its figure.

“He is away on business. The lords of the realm are gathering for a meeting. He should be back early next month.” Aria answered.

Wearing a mock expression of disgust, Tekkorin scoffed. “Bah! A month? That’s no way to treat a lady, or a kingdom!” Aria gave a confused look for a moment, until she caught the wizard’s eyes darting to the rustling bushes. She stifled a laugh and let him continue. “That’s disgusting m’lady, and I mean really. Who’s to protect you if something should go wrong? Who’s he left in charge? Where’s the man of the house?” Tekkorin slowly raised his voice as he went on, and finally he was cut off, finishing that last sentence, when a small boy of no more then twelve years jumped out of the bushes.

“I am!” said the boy defiantly. His face was covered in dirt, as were his hands and tunic. Tiny sticks and leaves were tangled in his hair. “I’ll defend her!”

“Ah! And who are you?” Tekkorin asked, leaning on his cane, and bending low to make eye contact with the boy.

“I’m Rubin Nathiel, great swordsman of the south-west.” He declared pulling from his belt a stick. He held it out like a long sword, wrapping both hands around it awkwardly.

“Rubin Nathiel!” Tekkorin said, straightening his body upright again. “Well, it has been a while hasn’t it. Good to see you again young tike.”

With his free hand, Rubin wiped his nose, and looked up at the wizard. “You know me?”

“He knew you as a young one in my arms,” Aria put in.

“Before you were a great swordsman,” added Tekkorin.

“Oh,” said Rubin, sheathing his would-be sword. “Well then, I guess it’s ok. But you be careful ‘round here.”

Aria noted that one of the maids had exited the castle and given an angry stare Rubin’s way. “Look’s like you’re caught, Rubin. Best get back to your studies. Tell Jackie to prepare a guest room, and ready some hot bath water.”

Rubin sighed when he saw the maid beckoning him to follow her. “Alright mom.” He began to walk off with a bold swagger, until the maid became impatient with him and walked briskly to his side and hurried him in. “Ok, ok! I’m going.”

Aria then guided Tekkorin to two of the many chairs just outside another pair of oaken doors (which now stood ajar), which led to the inside of the castle buildings. The chairs were wooden, but a thick wool blanket warmed their seats. Tekkorin took his time to sit, leaning heavily on his cane once more to aid his descent. “So,” he said, once they had both been comfortably arranged. “Peter is away yelling with the other noble’s eh? I trust he is well?”

“He does all right,” Aria replied. “Although I do wish he spend less time in the training halls. He likes to spend his time remembering his days of old. Many a time I’ve found him on the ramparts showing off to one of our lot.”

A chuckle emerged from Tekkorin. “My lady, he is not the only one who has ever shown off. If these worn memories recall correctly, you did quite a lot of that yourself.”

“True, Tek, but at least I was good at it. What about you? You did not have that limp last time you traveled this way.” Aria asked, her eyes reflecting concern. Her gaze turned to the ramparts ahead of them; the morning guard was changing to the afternoon shift. Another glance was to the sun to find it was indeed now reaching the true heights of the sky.

Tekkorin followed her gaze let out a small sound of thought before continuing. “Nor did I have the knowledge that came with it, my darling. But things change, Aria, it has been eight years. I take hits harder then I used to.”

Aria just nodded. “Jackie will be happy to see you,” she said plainly after a moment of thought.

Tekkorin laughed a bit, “Jackie? Is that old gal still around?”

“You bet your grey bloom’n hair I am Tekkorin!” came a voice from behind them. When Tekkorin looked back he saw, Jackie the maid. Although she looked not as old as the wizard who looked at her, rumors flew of her age, among other things… “And I could still mop the floor with ya!”

“I bet you could, Jackie. Do you still do that: mop the floor? Or do you just scare all the old men who come to your Lady’s doorstep?” Tekkorin asked with a wink.

A bit put off by the wizard’s way, she had to take a moment to recall her wits. “Aye, I do. And it’s better work then you adventuring wizards, off inta whatnot. Good honest work, say’s I.”

Tekkorin nodded. “Well that’s that then. If it’s honest work say’s you, then it must be. Eight long years.”

The maid laughed and stepped out onto the balcony. “Aye, and too short at that. Gimme a hug ya lazy thing.” By the time Tekkorin had risen from his seat, the maid had already crossed over and caught the man in a great squeeze. After they had finished, she turned to Aria with a slight bow. “The guest room’s ready, and the bath water’s warmed, m’lady.”

A great smile had crossed Aria’s face by this time, “Alright, thank you Jackie.” After her maid had left, she turned to Tekkorin. “You remember where it is? The same room as you had last time: through these doors, down the hallway, and up the south tower.”

“Thank you m’lady. If you will excuse me.”

“Of course.” Aria watched as the wizard walked to the doors, “and Tek, it’s good to see you again.”

April 10, 2002

Yes! Justin, my friend, you praise my skill, and yet say so little of your own. Bravo, again! I itch for the next chapter; don't make me wait too long.

-Seth Exodus

Initiate of The Pen

Justin Silverblade · April 10, 2002

~Seth, thanks. But I think you misunderstand, the last post was not the whole chapter. There's a bit of a way to go yet. Anyways, here's what else I've been able to edit (though I guess one's never really finished editing eh?)~

~~~~~~~~

After Tekkorin had bathed and properly dressed, he found himself sitting in one of the chairs in his room, and setting his eyes out the open window. He watched as the sun began to fall from its high perch of noon. In the quiet of the room, he found his eyelids pressing down on him. Beginning to drift off to an afternoon doze his senses were swiftly startled when he heard the soft creak of his door. Practically jumping alert, the wizard caught the eye of the young boy again though much cleaner this time, peeking into his room.

“Afternoon Rubin. By all means, come in.” Tekkorin beckoned for the young master to enter with his hand.

Rubin, as quietly as he could, entered the room and for a while said nothing. With an air of curiosity he looked at the few bags that had been brought in from Tekkorin’s horse. They were plain saddlebags, and showed no sign of any nobility or magic. Unimpressed (though unwilling to look inside them), Rubin looked to Tekkorin in silent interest and turned his attention to the cane. It lay upon the bed, which was made, simply as before. Looking at it for a long while, he found his eyes fixating on the green emerald upon its top. It sparkled as the child gently gripped it and brought it to the blanket of sunlight that lay stretched across the bed. With a sudden childlike innocence he flicked it. When nothing resulted, save for a slight pain in his finger, he replaced it to the corner of the bed without a sound. He caught the eyes of the wizard following him, and fixated on the old man’s face for a long while, as if looking for some secret marking or sign. “Are you really a wizard?” he asked finally.

“Are you really a great swordsman?”

“Yes!” Rubin snapped back quickly. He still had the sword-stick in his belt, and at this comment he adjusted it as if to confirm that he indeed was a great swordsman. “But you don’t look like a wizard. Not to me.”

At this Tekkorin put his booted feet up onto a nearby table. “Oh? And just what does a wizard look like?”

“Well,” Rubin thought for a moment, scratching his head in quiet contemplation. “They wear hats.” He stated finally.

“You got me there,” Tekkorin sighed. “I don’t wear a hat anymore.”

“You used to?”

Tekkorin nodded when he saw a look of hope encompass the boy’s face. “Yes, I used to. A big tall pointy one, but it was too heavy for me, so I got rid of it.”

Rubin sat down suddenly, resting on the stone floor cross-legged. “Well, I suppose you could be a wizard. But they use magic, and have staffs that glow.” Uncomfortable, the boy removed the sword-stick from his belt and put in on the floor next to where he was sitting.

“Hmm… My cane is all out of glow right now,” said Tekkorin.

“What about magic?” Rubin asked, finally getting to what he wanted to see. “Are you out of that too?”

“Come here.”

Rubin got up and walked to the wizard. When he was right next to him, his hands were fidgeting with his tunic in anticipation. Any moment now, the wizard would show him some dazzling lights, or reveal to him a secret. Maybe he would even transform something! After he had been standing there for a few minutes, Tekkorin raised his right hand next to Rubin’s ear and, giving it a quick pinch, revealed a golden coin.

“Ta-da!”

Rubin eyed the coin for a minute and walked back to his place on the floor. He folded his arms and plopped down again abruptly; a grimace appeared on his face. “That’s not magic, that’s a fool’s trick. You had the money in your hand the whole time. Jackie’s tried getting me with that a couple times.”

“Oh has she now,” Tekkorin asked. “Well maybe she’s a great sorceress.”

“Jackie?!?” Rubin asked with a doubtful look. “Naw, she’s too ugly. Maybe a witch though.”

An enormous laughter set forth from Tekkorin. Rubin was quite put off by it, and couldn’t understand what had started it. For a moment, he thought the old man was in danger. Tekkorin soon quieted down though, and mentioned to the boy, “don’t let Jackie hear you say that.”

Now Rubin laughed a little, and then returned his attention to his sword-stick beside him. He picked it up and stood. Gripping it awkwardly he took a moment to slay some imaginary beings. Tekkorin watched his stance, and his wide swings. After several ‘evil villains’ had been killed, Rubin noticed the wizard staring at him again. “Where do wizards come from?” he asked

A great sigh followed the question. Tekkorin’s response was vague. “Here and there, although some come from nowhere.”

“Huh?”

“We’re around,” stated Tekkorin.

Scrunching up his face in thought, Rubin nodded, giving up that particular quest. “You’re strange. I’m leaving.” The boy exited as quietly has he had entered, and just as curiously. He stopped for a moment and looked the door itself up and down. Satisfied that it was indeed the same as it was when he entered, Rubin left and closed the door behind him lightly. After the soft sound of the closed door Tekkorin soon fell to the afternoon doze that had been delayed by the young child.

Justin Silverblade · April 13, 2002

“Beggin’ you pardon, you old sod, but it’s time to get up.”

There was no reply save a loud snore from Tekkorin. Jackie stood for a moment with her arms on her hips and took in a great sigh. With a push, she let the wizard’s legs drop from on the table. “Getch’r arse up, and your feet off me table!”

This caused the wizard to awake with a start. His eyes opened to the not so pleasant sight of Jackie the maid. His face turned to a mixture of fright and horror. A slight cry left his lips before he realized whom it was. “Damn, woman!”

“Ya ain’t so pretty ya’self there.” Jackie went over to the window and looked out it a moment. The sky had become a pinkish hue while the sun gripped at the mountaintops. The room had become much darker as a result, as the one window was the only natural source of light. With a quick flick of her wrist, Jackie closed the window. “Ya gonna let all the cool air in too? This bloody castle’s hard enough to keep warm without you goin’ an openin’ all the windas.”

Tekkorin shook his head and stood up. “You don’t stop, do you…”

“Nope. An’ if you keep teach’n the young master that I’m a witch and I’ll never will.” Jackie caught Tekkorin adjusting his robes slightly. These were better robes then of those he wore when he traveled in; a dark blue. They had no special symbols or laces, but the material was of fair quality and make. With a small push towards the door, Jackie handed him his cane and urged him forward. She closed the doors behind them. “Come now, or you’ll be late for supper.”

“He actually told you that he thought you were a witch? I assure you that was his idea entirely.” Tekkorin stated walking down the hallway, and to the steps that would lead to the lower floors of the castle.

“Yeah, and I’m sure it just a came to ‘im, without you so much as lifting a finger.” Jackie rolled her eyes.

“Are you implying something madam?” Tekkorin gave a mock shocked look. Jackie just shook her head and led him down the stairs, around the corner and down several hallways to a dining room.

A large square table sat in the middle of the room, with a total of ten chairs around it; one on each end and four on each side. It was set and an open bottle lay in a large silver bowl of ice. Beside the table stood no less then five great windows, though none stood open, displaying the paintings of nature in the light evening sky. Multiple purples and pinks mingled with blue and tiny wisps of white. Between each window stood mounted an unlit candle. On the other side of the room was a candle lit stone wall. Twelve giant candles burnt on their holders, already half melted. The four corners of the room were decorated with various types of armor, one was notably large enough to fit three men in. On the opposite side of the room (from which they had entered) was another open doorway that, by the sounds of it, led to the kitchen.

When Tekkorin arrived, Aria and Rubin had already been seated, though not yet served. Aria sat at the furthermost head of the table, with Rubin to her right. While Jackie disappeared through the other door, Tekkorin took a seat across from Rubin. “My apologies Aria, Rubin, my eyelids caught up with me from my travels. I’m afraid I fell asleep a little longer then I intended.”

“No problem Tek, we just got here ourselves. Please have a drink; you like red wine right?” Aria asked offering to pour him a glass.

Tekkorin nodded and motioned to his glass. “Yes, please.” Aria poured the crimson liquid into his glass and returned the bottle to its cold silver holding place.

“So, tell us where you’ve been to in the last eight years Tek. I’ll bet you’ve run into many things.” Aria took a sip from her own half full glass and allowed her face to grow somewhat more serious. “How go the battles to the far north, and what of our friends, any news of them, or have you not heard?”

“You should be stern less, and smile more, m’lady, it suits you better,” Tekkorin answered. “As for the north, things are not so pleasant as they are here in Litheme. The battles continue, and it looks as though our thoughts were quite correct. The alliance against the Kald’heir Empire has all but failed. There is only one province that still fights against them in the far north. We expect them to fall within the year. After that, the empire will have finished their set out conquest. It will have been a sixteen-year siege, but hopefully then peace will return to the realm. Our friends, last I heard were either safe, or had become uninvolved.

“And as for me, that is an entirely different story.” Tekkorin stopped to take another sip of wine. As he did several maids came from the kitchen with food, the steam floating high off the platters. Meat, soup, bread, vegetables and various other provisions were brought out and left on the table. There was a break in conversation while the three dished up, and prepared their food. When all the plates had been filled, Aria said a word of thanks to the powers above and then the three began eating. At first the three were to busy to be of any good conversation, but soon their rate of ingestion slowed, and Tekkorin picked up where he left off.

“As I was saying,” Tekkorin restarted, “my journeys have been a most interesting and different story…” The wizard, over the course of the meal, then continued to tell of his journeys around the known world. Up to the north, where he stayed with some of his long time friends. Then he had apparently traveled to the eastern shores, where he stayed awhile at a place he referred to as the Old House. His travels then led down the shores to the south where he met up with his wizard friends. Here he was sketchy, speaking of things that “take too long to explain really,” and quickly moved on to his travels that led him eventually back to Litheme. To the great dismay of Rubin, he mentioned nothing of how he gained his limp, or of any monsters he had fought. Indeed, he spoke of the roads being rough, and rouges being in many places, but the only fight he actually spoke of was a particular bar fight in his travels to the north. And even then, he used no magic, but the friend traveling with him at the time took care of it with a sharp blade and smooth tongue.

“What about the limp?” asked Rubin finally, having been patient for so long, he wanted to here of fights and battles. “Did you get it fighting something huge?”

“My limp? Oh that was a silly little accident on the way here,” Tekkorin answered simply. Rubin’s heart sank, and Aria wore a sympathetic smile for her son. He had waited through a story that meant nothing to those who knew not the lands, and his only hope had just vanished. Tekkorin saw this and gave both a smile and a sigh. “Have you ever seen a Hobgoblin?”

Rubin perked up right away. “Nope, but I’ve heard of ‘em.”

“Well, they’re huge! And I’ll tell you why you haven’t seen any of them, it’s cause they’re scared of me…” Tekkorin went on to indulge the boy’s fantasies, making up a story of how two giant hobgoblins had ambushed him on his way here, and he had fought them off with a dagger and fireballs and lighting. He made it short but sweet, and finished leaving the lad’s green eyes brimming with joy. After he finished he mentioned that he had some bookwork to be done. “So if you two will excuse me. I will see you in the morning?”

Aria nodded. “Of course Tek. Sleep well.”

As he turned the corner he heard the young voice of Rubin calling after him, “I hope you’ll tell me more stories!”

April 17, 2002

“You’re strange. I’m leaving.”

Ha! I love it. The innocence and bluntness of the young; I like how you're working young Rubin. Very well done, thus far, Justin. Keep it coming.

-Seth Exodus

Justin Silverblade · April 18, 2002

The days passed while Tekkorin the wizard stayed with the Lady Aria and her son Rubin. Those bright days turned to sunny weeks, and Tekkorin found himself spending much more of his time then he had expected with the young child. Rubin and he would quite often trek up the great hill that caused the road to bend to Jardain and look over the peaceful countryside. Other times Tekkorin would simply sit in the sun and watch as Rubin described the great battles of his father and how he would someday walk in his footsteps. It was not long until they received word of Lord Peter Nathiel and his homecoming.

When the message came that the Lord of the Castle would be arriving within a few days, everything was in quite a stir. The maids, stable-hands, gardeners, and cooks were all in a frenzy to make sure all was spotless and organized. There was no party planned, but to the Lord of Jardain the look of normality was dependant on how efficient things ran. So, the hedges were trimmed, the beds were made, and the ramparts were swept.

On the day of his arrival everyone, including the workers of the castle, were lined up to greet Lord Peter. The sun was out again, in another flawless day. Three or four wisps of cloud were decorating the skyline. The air began to take on a slightly warmer feel, as it was indeed the later weeks of May now.

Peter rode in on a great white stallion and was dressed in fine garments of red and blue. His hair was a jet black and cut short to keep it from getting in the way of any work that he may need to do. He greeted his wife first affectionately, and then proceeded to pick up his boy high into the air. Laughter emerged from Rubin’s throat and there were whispers of happiness in the crowd. With just a brief look around Peter spoke to the gathered employees of how well his castle looked, and dismissed them back to work. There was a general sense of relief and they all dispersed back to their daily duties, leaving in their wake, the vision of Tekkorin upon the balcony. He stood at seeing Peter and bowed low. The Lord walked over and beckoned him to sit, and he too took a seat, his wife by his side and Rubin wandering in the courtyard.

“Tekkorin, it has been a while,” Peter opened. His voice was naturally strong. “How have you been keeping yourself?”

“I am well, thanks especially to having been in such good company, m’lord. For the past month I have been spending my time here, enjoying the spring days and the good food,” Tekkorin replied.

“Well, this is good news. I am sorry that I was not here to greet you upon your arrival. But the council seems to grow more restless every time we meet,” Peter said.

Tekkorin nodded. “Yes, well, to tell the truth a vacation was not my exact intention on being here. Now that you are here, I have some worries to present to both you and your wife. As I’ve told you Aria, the Kald’heir Empire will likely finish their set out conquest by snowfall. We fear that they may not be satisfied with that. If I may get straight to business.”

Peter nodded, and ordered that a pot of tea and some fruit be brought to them.

“As you know,” continued the wizard, “the Kald’heir Empire has been very successful in redeeming itself in its quest. Their borders by the end of the year shall stretch to the cold north, and even as far south as to touch borders with Litheme in it’s upper most lands.”

“It is not this way straight across though, right? Eastward the Kald’heir recede back, correct?” interrupted Peter.

“Yes. Far east along the shores of Quell the borders of the Kald’heir are much higher. And so it should be. But we are worried that they are not satisfied with their territories. It is true that the kings of old are gone now, and whilst the Kald’heir wait for their new emperor to grow into stronger years, their advisors rule. And they, versed in the arts of war and politics, are wicked and evil. We fear that they may try and stretch down as far south as the Canyon of Valdrus. “

“Through Litheme…” said Aria.

“Indeed. We then think that they will use the natural borders of the Canyon and sweep across this realm to the far eastern shores. Litheme is divided in rulers, and so would be easier to stretch down, even if their forces are thin.” Tekkorin finished, and the ordered items were brought. Tea was poured into small cups and fruit lay down on the table in a basket. Tekkorin took an apple. “Their movements would not start for months, if not years down the road, but knowing that your council slows with each meeting…”

“Hmm…” Peter thought for a moment amongst the sound of metal spoons stirring. “I will send out a message today, though they will not be pleased at this re-gathering so quickly. We can likely reconvene in the early summer.”

“Then make it so.”

Justin Silverblade · May 2, 2002

The weeks would pass by quickly, and the Council of Litheme would meet at the Rockshier dwellings, home of a small dwarven community of Litheme. It was far from Jardain and its provinces, and proved quite a trek. Tekkorin, much Rubin’s dismay after growing quite an attachment to the old man, had insisted on going with him. They traveled westward and were gone for many sunny weeks.

Whilst they did, Rubin began to grow up, unbeknownst of the worldly problems around him. His eleventh birthday came unto the world in the fall and was celebrated with gifts and small festivities in the city of Jardain. It was there, in the company of his mother, he learned the finer (and much more fun) side of the warrior he so wanted to be. He competed in games (and won a good lot of them on account of his skill, not his royalty), and then danced and sang the night away. Several days after the festivities, Tekkorin and Peter reappeared. They brought with them presents for Rubin, from those that were friendly to Peter on the council. Trinkets and clothing made up the majority of the gifts. A boy’s fancy of war usually did not usually appear in shields and swords until he ‘came of age’ at sixteen.

They, to the disappointment of Aria, also brought back bad news. The council, despite pleas from both the lord and the wizard, refused to believe the accusations. There were a few who supported Peter and spoke many words of coming to his aid were it true, but until it proved so they would not move to prevent it. The only success they gained was the alertness of the council to a possible attack. Belief or no, they would make sure they had an army ready.

Mere day’s after they had arrived and delivered the news Tekkorin announced his departure to the group, proclaiming that his schedule had once again resumed, and he must be off. It was a cloudy fall day, with but the odd drop of rain heading straight to the ground, no wind to deter it. The lush green of the grass had turned to a dim green and some to a light brown. The flowers that guided the roads had been replaced by a covering of red, orange and yellow leaves. The air was brisk and began to loose the edge it had in the summer. Gathering in the courtyard Tekkorin had his horse (a better one, supplied and packed courtesy of Peter) just outside the open gates, and was saying his goodbyes.

“I don’t want you to go Tek!” Rubin cried. “You haven’t told me enough stories yet!”

The wizard laughed and let his eyes stare into the child for a while. “But I must,” he said finally, “For I have a long way to go, and I wish to cover much ground before the snow. Be happy child, for I will return and you will be stronger, and can tell me stories. Besides, I have told you stories enough that would put a tavern to bed twice!”

Rubin, in some of his finest clothes, withdrew his new, larger sword-stick and took a great breath in. “Ok, I guess. But hurry back.”

Tekkorin nodded and took a look at the child’s weapon. “Make sure you use your time wisely. There will be plenty of time to fight monsters, but you must learn now, while your mind is ripe. Your schooling is most important.” Finishing with a great hug, Tekkorin looked up at the two adults waiting to send him off. A droplet of rain fell upon Aria’s delicately brushed hair and sparkled gently. “Aria…”

“Goodbye Tek. Safe journeys, and make sure you say hi to the others for me,” Aria said hugging Tekkorin. Her eyes sparkled with a mixture of sadness and happy understanding.

“Everyone I meet on the way, m’lady. Keep yourself well,” Tekkorin spoke, “and aid your husband. He will need your support in the coming years I fear. Your knowledge will be useful in assembling and training protection for your lands, as he will be spending many months arguing; hopefully for some benefit.

Turning to Peter, Tekkorin held out his hand. Peter took it firmly and gave it a quick shake. “Watch yourself Tek, the roads are unsafe outside of Litheme. They do not take kindly to normal travelers, let alone old men. I will work on the council as much as I can until your return.”

“And build an army Peter. I fear for the safety of the roads here in Litheme. I will see you soon.”

Peter nodded, adding, “I await the return of your counsel.”

Tekkorin turned towards the gates and began to head out when he heard a shrill voice from behind him.

“Make sure ya don’t get yourself killed out there, old man!” came from the castle doors. Jackie was standing there, in her set of maid’s clothing.

A smile reappeared on Tekkorin’s face. “Indeed I won’t Jackie!”

And with that, he mounted his well-trained steed and started out the gates. As soon as the doors were closed behind him, Rubin ran to the top of the ramparts and watched as his friend rode ‘round the bend, and could hear his singing for far longer; until it was just the odd note riding the air to his ears. Much the boy’s ignorance, the old wizard would not return until they both would have stories to tell.

“Hey ho! Ho hey!

I’m off to go,

To see a show,

I set out on the cool fall day.

“I’ll lie awake, and see the stars,

I’ll dig holes, and find the gold,

I’ll look ahead, and watch the wild,

“Hey ho! Ho hey!

I’ll find the fight,

Turn wrong to right,

And trust my wits to find the way!

“Hey ho! Ho hey!"

~ This concludes the First Chapter. I have recently 'refound' my creative inspiration, and will hopefully have much more for you in the future. I hope you enjoy. (any comments/critisim is welcomed in the Critic's Corner; I believe Ozy started a thread there) ~

Justin Silverblade · June 2, 2002

Damn it... Well I've been trying for some weeks now... but NOTHING is coming. So I thought I'd post what I had, no sense in keeping the writing staggered if there is nothing coming out of my fingertips. So here's what I had left, a couple of warnings though;

1.) It is NOT edited, so many of the sentences may not flow very well, or may repeat words, and have limited vocabulary, etc, etc.

2.) It is NOT finished, and likely never will be. I wouldn't read it for an ending.

Justin Silverblade · June 2, 2002

~ This is the Prologue that I had kept absent from the beginning. I thought it wouldn't hurt to post it now, though I appologize for the disorganization. Also, it should be noted that, while I wrote a character named Matteo in it, this is entirely Foe's Character, and should he wish it revoked or changed in any way, I will not hesitate to accomidate him.~

The Call of the Tides

Prolouge

This is a tale that is simple both in its lines and between them. Set in a world where might and magic rule the lands, races of all forms, both mortal and immortal, walk as neither equals or opposites. These creatures of life and death are woven into an endless river that begins whence it ended; the river whose water is time, whose bed makes up history, and whose never-met destination is guided by the powers above: this river of Fate. From an elbow in this river is where this fanciful legend begins, and upon the other side shall it end. It is of how the past can, and does, use the present as a tool to create a future like itself.

The tale actually begins just before the end of one previous to it, as are all things so entwined. Though, not as is true with all things, this beginning is worth mentioning and so shall be done first and foremost. There was a guild. A gathering of warriors, lords, and weary travelers; set within a large bay of the shores of the eastern sea. It was founded and led by two. The first was a male elf, whose immortal experience helped to build it, and hold it together. His friend was a young human wizard, and bared the passion to make to run.

Those who walked the eastern way knew this guild as the Crystal Tides. A strange happening, whether it was because the Gods of the lands favored this gathering of righteous hearts, or merely because Lady Luck had enjoyed its company, the members of the Crystal Tides always left to become great influences in the world. Though this would become known from their founding, the Crystal Tides never sought out any power or fame in the known world. To those who would seek to conquer the lands through greed and malice knew it only as a small set of buildings that housed a small group of people. Indeed it was unknown by many.

But inside, a great kinship grew. Those who wore the small banner of the Tides knew one another as family; family that would neither betray nor belittle. Their influence was not only within the world but within themselves as well. Part of their greatness would emerge from their own discoveries of fault and loss. Their imperfections and understanding thereof granted them the ability to stand up with quiet intention, and sit down with vast perception.

But as that wondrous journey slowed its course, and the world outside it charged forward, a tiny spark helped to create an almost unforeseeable creation. It begins in the closed chambers of the guildhall: the upstairs room. Inside, around a large oaken table sat the two led and governed, their grave faces lit by moon’s shine and reflection of the ocean water through two giant windows on the eastern wall. The only other figures in the room were sets of display armor, given faint shadow by moonlight.

“What now, Matteo? Surely your elven ears have tamed the wind and whispers, convincing them to reveal our path. I know not what to do.” Spoke the wizard, his blue eyes a window to a saddened soul.

Matteo the elf gave a melancholy smile. “Though the winds surrender nothing, Tekkorin, you give up your resolve with as much passion as you defend it.”

Turning his head towards the window, Tekkorin sighed. “You must understand Matteo. Have you not felt the wanting of our men?”

“Yes,” nodded Matteo, “And I can understand it as well. When the very empire that strove to protect their families whilst they are here to train-“

“And drink,”

“… and drink, yes.” Matteo noted a slight smile appear and fade just as quick on his friend’s face. “When that empire turns to threaten their families, they wish to come to the defense of their loved ones.”

Tekkorin stood and turned his gaze to the armor in a thoughtful pace. “As all good men should.” His eyes walked a path of remembrance at seeing the armor; of a time when they were given to the guild, as gifts. Fine suits of plate mail and one of fine chain. One of their old members had returned from adventures and gave to them the armor of his fallen comrades, also guild members. They were restored and set to sit in the conference room to honour the fallen. Tekkorin did not want to have to honour any more then he had to. “We cannot outright declare war against the Kald’heir. Our guild would stand divided, not everyone wishes to fight. I know some whose fight this is not. What would we say to them before we request their lives to battle?”

“They would understand, and follow us. Nor would we be alone on the battlefield.” Matteo’s gaze followed the pacing wizard. “There is word of others forming a defense against them. Have you spoken with Sarah? She hears the winds better then I, they have spoken to her again.”

“Yes. She spoke of riddles again; though ones of hope.” Tekkorin looked up and to Matteo. “They will leave if we say we do not go as a guild.”

“Yes.”

The wizard moved to the window, and let his gaze be locked to the moon. Matteo took no note and stood from the table. He approached from behind and found his eyes upon the restless water, watching as the light reflected carelessly along the surface. The two stood there for a moment, in quiet contemplation. Faintly, through the silence of the building and the night, the soft flow of the waves could be heard upon the shore. As the water retreated before another soft entry, the moonlight danced and sparkled amidst the sand. It would be Matteo who would speak first again. His voice was but a whisper, but in the quiet of the night the sound found its way above the water outside.

“Upon the calm midnight hour,

Time sets its wheels again.

What’s lost is lost, found is found,

And shall never be the same.

“Hold thy course and fight aloud,

Noble with it’s rage.

Heals to cause another wound

A loss of work and age.

“Choices done; made once more,

Can seek to lead the truth.

Flight and thought bears a land,

Saved with sword and youth.

“No paths shall lead to find short ends,

Though one but can empower,

To renew and find a longer road

Of the calm midnight hour.”

Tekkorin nodded, and spoke without turning his head. “Her words have not failed before.”

“Nor have they ever been so many. The wind does not often give out secrets, even to those who hear it best,” Matteo added.

“Still, it warns of unpleasant times should we declare war and succeed, that verse was clear. And I am tired Matteo; I am without the ageless face of elf. Nor have I your stamina to continue, mine wears thin. We have long been leaders of this guild, and wonder if now is the right time to part. Have you other words?” Tekkorin now turned to return to the table, letting his wooden cane tap along the floor.

“Nay, nor further sound advice I can share.”

A small laughter emerged from Tekkorin’s lips. “I find that hard to believe. Still, if you will allow me, I think it is time we found an end to this chapter. Great things can be accomplished by our friends.”

“Can be, and will be.”

Tekkorin gave a final distant look before hitting the table in an act of confirmation. “Right. Then we had best ready what we need to do, and say. The days begin to weigh heavily upon our guild.”

Matteo joined him at the table, and found his seat with silent ease. “As they do everywhere in this age, Tekkorin, as they do everywhere.”

Justin Silverblade · June 2, 2002

Chapter 2:

The Council

Months would begin to pass like days, and to the peasant’s common eye, peace began to sprinkle over the lands. The borders of the known world were quiet; no vast empire crossed over the Great End of the West, and no barbarian hordes made the trek up through and across the Canyon of Valdrus. Inside those borders, the Kald’heir Empire completed their set out quest, and remained dormant upon their domain in the north, celebrating the finished conquest. Many of the countries east of Litheme, (which will be named whence they arrive to this tale) reached what appeared to be a great age and began trade with the north, something that had not been seen before by men that now lived the world. Litheme struggled to maintain the peace it had proclaimed to its bordering countries and peasants.

And as the council meetings became more frequent for Peter and Aria and their armies were trained, young Rubin began to grow into a learned youth. His studies would give him the knowledge of reading and writing, simple math, geography, (all of which he picked up both easily and quickly) and small etiquette items that he was required to use at a variety of regal functions. The latter was one that he didn’t care too much for. Though he still worshiped a warrior’s footsteps, he had little interest in the ways of a noble. But, as the months turned to years, Peter would begin instructing him on political knowledge of province of Jardain.

Rubin’s young days was not all lost in studies, however, and he found that at many of the celebratory occasions hosted by his mother and father, he would duck out. The children of the other nobles and warriors invited and compete in young boy’s competitions and games. It was a regular occasion, met by several boys in particular. Rubin had them constantly beat, but they would still all play until finally the dawn brought weariness to their eyes and aggravation from their parents.

A boy grows up fast in a kingdom that will one day need his guidance and wisdom, and so it was no exception for Rubin. In the after-week of his fifteenth birthday, Rubin was approached by his father and invited to attend one of the council meetings. This time it was to be held in the province of Duchain, under the banner and bed, of the councilman Lord Jerred Kelloran. Rubin knew better then to say no to one of his dad’s invitations, and happily agreed to go along. Besides, he had hoped of meeting some of these people his father and mother often talked about. So, on the second day of December, three of them set out: Master Rubin, Lord Peter, and General Kain.

Kain was a man of superior skill, and had been the one responsible for the given task of creating a strong army for Jardain. In his twenty ninth year, Kain had spent all of his life in Jardain, and just over a third of his life in the service of his Lord and province. His skill had proved him a good soldier, and his strong militaristic advice had led to his promotion to the Lord’s side. He was also a kind man, deep behind his ice blue eyes, and rough skinned exterior. He had begun attending these semi-annual meetings two years ago.

They all rode well and arrived in a week. The snow floated from the sky silently and softly, a quiet reminder that the end of the year was soon. The clouds blanketed all of Litheme, keeping the cold within the air and stone. The three were welcomed readily, and informed that the meeting was to take place in the hall with supper, as they were the last to attend. They hurried inside, happy to be out of the silent reminder. Though the outside stone walls were icy to the touch, the inside the castle banquet hall was akin to warmth.

The huge room was rectangular, offset by a large round oaken table in its center. The rest of the room was decorated by statues and paintings of Jerred’s family and lit by chandeliers of candles hung from the ceiling. It bore no windows, only doors and steps on the walls. To the right of the entrance that the three of Jardain entered stood a roaring fire in a hearth almost thrice the size of Rubin. The heat hit them like a wave and wrapped around them naturally like a blanket, this pleasure after days of travel was a welcome one to them.

The room was also filled with the councilmen and their subordinates. Fifteen of mixed race, gender and creed made up the council, and the other fourteen stood below talking and drinking with each other and their consultants. Silence was brought to the room when Peter, Kain, and Rubin entered the room.

“Lords and Ladies, the fifteenth has arrived,” spoke the attendant of Jerred’s whom had led them in. “Lord Peter Nathiel is present to speak for his province of Jardain, and he brings with him his son, Master Rubin Nathiel, and Military Advisor, General Kain.” The attendant turned to the three and said, though with a voice still loud enough to be heard to the rest, “You are well received in the house of his Lordship, Jerred Kelloran. Welcome.” Before anyone else could speak, he went on to announce, “Supper will be ready and served in fifteen minutes.” The young man then quickly turned and left up the stairs.

Immediately a man dressed in a dashing red, (and golden trim) guided his wine glass towards the group. “Peter! It is so nice to see you again.” His golden hair was brought back into a ponytail, leaving his clean face to the clear. “Your travels were safe and quick I hope?”

“And cold Jerred,” Peter said frostily, taking the man’s hand in a quick greeting. “But we have arrived unscathed.” Peter seemed more interested in the others of the room, who had by now gone back to their involved conversations, and looked around the host anxiously.

Perceiving the lack of pleasantries, Jerred nodded and half mumbled to himself, “well, yes, help yourself to some wine, the food will be along shortly.”

“That was said, Jerred.”

Jerred stopped in his attempts of conversation. “Yes…” he answered quietly as he ventured back to a small group who awaited his company.

Rubin looked up to his father with curiosity. Peter knelt down and spoke to the boy, “I have little time for his games,” he said. “That was Jerred Kelloran. He is the Lord of Duchain, and opposes me on many matters of Litheme. His lands are vast, and much richer than ours, but his reasoning is tilted to money and power, and not of eithics. He owns many members of the council with his coin; Lords Durward Felkir, Kevin Hugh, Sanford Whyte, and Lady Vivian Volstar in particular. They are with him now.” Peter pointed to the small assembly that Jerred returned to after his greeting, there indeed around him and listening intently were three men and one woman.

The first was Durward Felkir, stood now laughing at a comment made. With a piece of bread in his hand even now, moments before food was to be presented, he became easily recognizable as the Lord whom always had crumbs on his oversized belly.

Kelvin Hugh was beside him, and displayed with a distant scowl as if not to enjoy the company he was with. His broad shoulders hinted that he was more than comfortable in a suit of armor. At the present event however his clothing was of titled comfort, not a warrior’s mail.

The Lord Sanford Whyte smiled with his third glass of wine. Though he was hidden with youth, his grey hair betrayed him, letting not one strand of his young days remain. His clothing was neither rich nor poor, but practical for a man of his age.

More prominent in stature then the former three stood Vivian Volstar. Her hair long and black, and her eyes a deadly hazel, she seemed absorbed in the words of Jerred. Little caused her narrow face to turn a smile or frown, and the current conversation it seemed was no exception, her attention did not leave the lord and was acknowledged with an occasional slight nod.

Rubin would put the names his father had given to him to the faces and figures he saw throughout the course of the evening. At present, he only walked with his father through the extravagant stone pillars and around the statues of the immense room. Peter met and nodded with several members of the council, and several attendants to. Rubin found he recognized many of the attendants by face; they had often been at his home as messengers of their lord or lady.

“Gildar!”

His father’s hearty voice broke Rubin’s wandering eyes and thoughts. Peter had apparently found the person he was looking for. Rubin was most amazed at the short sight that lay before him. A plump figure in nothing less then a chain mail and an axe by his side reached up his free hand to greet Peter. Only inches higher then Rubin himself, the ‘man’ addressed as Gildar had a gruff face and scarred skin hidden underneath a long healthy beard. He had a mystical air about him as he smiled.

“Gildar Strongarm! It has been a while,” continued Peter. “Your beard is looking good and thick, your axe is sharp.”

“Aye, it has” replied Gildar. His voice was strong and sounded uncivil, like that of a burly peasant, but rung with the passion of a warrior. “Peter, you ought to get one ya’self.”

“An axe, or a beard?”

Gildar laughed loudly. “Well both, you’re worthy of a good beard, but I dare say too cheap to throw gold to one of our good dwarven smiths for yourself.”

A short gasp escaped Rubin’s lips. He had heard of dwarves, and knew that there were small groupings of them huddled within the mountains Great End of the West. Though uncommon in many places, Litheme was blessed enough to see their trade and handiwork, for often a tremendous fee. All his teachings and knowledge aside, Rubin had never actually encountered a dwarf. Unconsciously the boy mouthed the word he had noted in the brief conversation, and unknowingly it had drawn the dwarf’s attention.

“Ah! Ya’ve brought the young master with ya this time, Peter,” said Gildar, examining Rubin. “A valiant face to grow into. Strong legs. Arms aren’t too bad, could use some work though…” He finished with a ruffle of Rubin’s hair, and gave a nod. “He’ll be a good one, though not quite the body for the swordsman you made him out to be. He’ll have to work for that; but plenty of time to grow, they say eh?”

“You’re a dwarf…” Rubin said absently.

Another vigorous laugh erupted from the dwarf. “Aye, you bet I am. From the dwellings of Rockshier, I’m here to speak for the dwarves of Litheme. They call me Gildar here, Gildar Strongarm. And you are Rubin Nathiel, pleased to meet ya Rubin, your dad’s told me so much about you.” Gildar extended his hand as a gesture of greeting, and Rubin took it. His last name certainly held true, and though the two only gripped hands for a few moments Rubin was just short of tears when they let go. “Good grip too lad! Maybe there’s hope for ya yet!”

Kain stepped forward and nodded to the dwarf a quick word of greeting.

“General Kain, good to see you again. It’s good to see that Peter’s still keeping the right people around. How’s your sword arm?” asked Gildar.

“It is still trained, and ready to go.”

Gildar opened his mouth to continue, when a loud yell came from across the room. “Lords and Ladies, welcome again to the gathering of the Council of Litheme. Dinner is to be served shortly, so if you could find your seats.” It was an attendant, now jumping off a chair and heading into one of the back rooms.

“Well, time to feast and yell, too things I don’t mind doin’ at all. See ya Peter. I’ve got your back.” Gildar stated and with a motion of his axe he wandered off to his place at the table.

The room quickly emptied of any excess attendants and servants. The fifteen members of the council wandered to their seats with last minute handshakes, and several pats on the back. Their company, such as General Kain was to Peter, stood behind their respective Lords or Ladies. Rubin was given a chair beside his father. As they sat down and prepared to sup, Rubin was disheartened to see no other younger boys or girls here. He had hoped to duck out like in so many other events. Perhaps it was a good thing, though, as his father seemed to think that this was important for him.

In a line of ten servants platters of food were brought in and distributed about the table. It was nothing but best even now in the dead of winter; roast pig, turkey, and all sorts of fruit. After which several jugs of ale and wine were brought in, and several minutes of gathering platefuls occupied the council. When they had sufficiently finished piling their plates, Jerred stood and held up his wine glass.

“Lords and Ladies of Litheme, I propose a toast, to the safety of Litheme, and it’s people.” A noteworthy smile crossed his lips, and the others stood up.

“Here here!”

Jerred nodded, and they all drank. “Right then. Down to business. Is anyone not accounted for?” There was a brief silence. “Good. The first item we must cover is trade difficulties between several of our provinces. The Lady Vivian Volstar wishes to speak on this topic.” Gesturing to the lady Jerred took his seat.

Rubin gawked as the stern and beautiful Vivian stood up. “Council,” she started. “As you know my province lies next to the province of Rockshier, dwelling of the dwarves. Despite our continued negotiations, they refuse to sell their goods to us at a reasonable price. Our gold is considered mere copper when we wish to purchase their tools. I have also often taking caravans through my province, and it concerns me deeply to know that they are simply avoiding us while trading to their friends. If Litheme is to be united, then we should all be equals amongst the trade. I come to the council now in hopes of pressuring Rockshier to concede in their arrogance and selfishness, and offer a solution this problem.”

Gildar stood up and yelled a strong dwarven curse. “Ya mean weapons there, Volstar, don’t ye? You’ve never asked for our tools.”

Jarred arose abruptly. “You’re avoiding the issue Gildar. I too have had difficulty with your trading values.”

“That’s cause you’re too busy buying ye damned art!” Gildar said loudly, pointing his axe to the nearby wall. “And as for your accusations, m’lady, I can assure you we do not avoid trade with you, we tire of your shallow pockets. We have made it clear every time that our prices will not waver, and they do not.”

“And what of these others you trade with, do not deny that you cut your prices for someone,” Jerred asked.

“Aye,” spoke Gildar, “we lower our prices for long time customers. We lower them for those who have the right views. We lower them for-”

Sanford Whyte spoke, but did not take the time to stand. “Favoritism is not the way to help us make Litheme stronger.”

Peter stood up suddenly, almost knocking Rubin over on his way. “Neither does ambushing our fellow council members! You speak of uniting it through strength at a council of words.” There was an immediate silence over the council.

Vivan didn’t say a word, nor show any sign that she had even heard the lord, but sat slowly. Jerred looked at Peter intently, his smile disappeared from his lips. “Very well, we shall deal with this later,” he said. Peter returned to his seat with a frown. Reluctantly, so did Gildar, finding a piece of meat to chew on. Jerred remained standing as the host, and cleared his throat briefly. “Moving on. Province reports…”

They went around the table, and each of the fifteen gave their city reports. Rubin noted that between most of them, Jardain was actually a fair size. It was the third largest provinces, behind only Jerred and Durward Felkir but weak when it came to riches. Most apparently much of Jardain’s money went to trade and the city of Jardain itself. It’s army was sufficient, holding it’s own against many of the bigger provinces.

After his father gave his report, Rubin began to become sleepy and bored. Many of the other kingdoms were small and unimpressive to the boy, and he lost interest in the same data over and over again. A couple of times, just before he nodded off, he found the hand of Kain on his shoulder, and a whisper in his ear, “pay attention young master, for one day you will be sitting in the bigger chair.”

When the reports were finished, the supper had also diminished into rinds and scraps. More wine was brought out, but Peter did not grab for any. He mentioned to his son that, “more wine will steal our wits.” And he also made the note that Jerred was not having more either, even though he was who ordered it.

“Right. Next item?” Jerred asked.

“How go the lands to the north?” asked Peter.

Kelvin Hugh rolled his eyes, and did not bother to stand to address the question (for it was his lands that mostly bordered the north, and so the Kald’heir). “They go uneventful, as usual.”

The rest of the meeting went on with smaller, less heated, things. Aid that would be needed for the after winter flood by the smaller provinces, request for trade with other provinces, advice on how to handle food shortages, and what was going on outside the lands of Litheme. Rubin had to be reminded several times to awaken his body. Though as the night got later, and the voices droned on and on, Rubin found his mind drifting, and his eyelids sinking. The last thing he remembered was his father standing to talk about strategies for aiding the peasants during winter.

Justin Silverblade · June 2, 2002

A soft ray of morning light passed through glass and onto skin, gently rousing Rubin from his sleep. In a futile effort, Rubin scrunched up his face and brought his hands up to his eyes, trying to push the light away. Slowly he turned over to his side and pulled the blanket over his face. The bed felt warm, and comfortable. He did not want to wake yet. As he tried to summon the haze of sleep to his mind, he realized that he had not originally fallen asleep in a bed. With fearful anticipation he peered out over his blanket.

First to his sight was the window against a stone wall. Rubin decided it faced east as he could see the early morning sun in its blue throne. Below the window, and looking out it, was General Kain. He was sitting, dressed in his normal garb, head tilted to the window. The rest of the room was made up with a chest, a desk and a tiny hearth.

“Am I in trouble?” asked Rubin. The night’s disuse of his voice caused it to come out weaker then he intended.

Kain turned around with a thoughtful face. His dark hair was combed back. “So you awaken young master,” he said. “No. No, I don’t think you’re in trouble. Your father has many other things to be worried about. You missed a bit last night. The council retired late, and reconvened early this morning. There is a small dispute over aiding one of the kingdoms.”

“Oh,” Rubin said, half relieved and half disinterested.

“Yes,” Kain pressed. He knew the importance of Rubin’s involvement with the council. Whether he cared or not, Rubin would have to know its ways. “Your father is trying to discourage the council from allowing Lord Jerred to walk his troops into Uldar, a small kingdom to the west of Lord Jerred’s. They will have need of aid against the thaw of winter, but Lord Peter worries that if it is only Lord Jerred’s troops who go, he will not remove them when the problem is solved. He is quite right, in my opinion.”

Rubin began to find his interest. “Why would he keep them there?”

“It is a passive stance to begin to take over those lands. As long as his army is there and is bigger then Lord Haldred’s, who oversees the province of Uldar, then Lord Jerred gains it’s control,” Kain explained.

“But wouldn’t Haldred fight’em?”

Kain shook his head. “Nay, he can’t if the council decides it is in his best interest. That’s why they are fighting now. Lord Jerred has many votes for him.” Kain grabbed some clothes from the table and threw them on the bed. “Hurry and get ready. The sun climbs the sky quickly, and we must be by your father’s side.”

Rubin got dressed, and hurried back to the council with Kain’s guide. All the lords were sitting, and none stood to speak, they were not worried with formality at this point. Rubin took his seat quietly and looked around lazily. All the lords were indeed there, and Gildar gave him a smile and a nod.

“…fine, then I will send troops too,” Peter was speaking at the moment. “Then we will aid Haldred together.”

“The spring flooding does not need three kingdom’s worth of troops, Peter,” spoke Jerred. “Besides your troops would have to walk for a week and a half to get there. Uldar borders my land, it will take mere days for us to arrive. Don’t waste your time and effort.”

Peter looked to another lord. “And what his other bordering provinces. Can they not lend a hand?”

“We are small, and would offer little compared to what Jerred has to offer,” came the voice of a lord across the table.

“Peter, please, it is not a big deal,” Jerred said. “But if you still oppose it greatly, let us hold it to a vote. First, Haldred, will you need help when the snow melts?”

“Yes.”

“Very well then,” Peter looked around the group. “Around the table; does any Lord or Lady dispute that it is in the best interest of Uldar and all of Litheme, for me, and only me, to send troops in to the province of Uldar in the spring. I do not dispute.”

They went around the table, each lord and lady taking their time in thought. The vote ended ten to five in favor of Jerred’s movement. In the spring he would move an army, under the banner of ‘aid’ into the province of Uldar.

That vote also signified the end of the meeting. They filed out of the chambers after thanking everyone and shaking hands, and began to set out for their respective kingdoms. Peter was not happy, and did not speak on their travels home. Rubin spent most of the cold way with Kain, more frightened of his father than anything.

Justin Silverblade · June 2, 2002

Winter turned to spring, and in the kingdom of Jardain the spring came welcome, and without hardship. Rubin continued his education in lordship. He spent many of the sunny spring days with General Kain and his father, discussing military options and situations. One day, much to this dismay of his mother, Rubin began learning the ways of the sword and combat. Upon the ramparts, like he had so boasted to his soldiers, Peter showed Rubin some of his old techniques, and General Kain by his side brought them to date, ever so slightly.

Time seemed to slow, the months passed by with more meaning then even the years before them, and quickly Rubin began to grow up. His interest in swordsmanship had matured, and he began to see it as a responsibility more then a game. His mind as far as city politics and economics developed into a firm understanding (though his natural talent was clearly not in maximizing the gold income of Jardain). Though Rubin still found little interest in the ways of running a kingdom, but Peter became more relaxed about the boy’s studies as he began to understand more.

And, as late spring turned to summer the council was due to meet again, this time in the home of Peter and Aria. The nobles arrived by afternoon light, over a period of two late summer days. Soon they were assembled in the small dining hall (the same that Tekkorin had dined in with Aria and Rubin), and began their meeting. Peter did not need to ask Rubin to attend, as he had full intentions of being there, requested or not. This time he would not be the boy at the grown up table. This time he would be man amongst men… and women.

There was a long hard knocking at Rubin’s chamber door. “Come in,” said Rubin firmly.

Jackie opened the door. She was in one of her good maid costumes, and even had her hair back in a tight bun. She entered to see Rubin standing in front of a full-length mirror. He was dressed in some of his finest clothes; a green outfit with silver trim, and was now fixing his hair. “My, young master. I haven’t seen you take those things out of your closet, let alone try them on.”

“I’m wearing them for the council meeting.”

Jackie laughed. “Is that a fact? I’ll tell ya, it’s a good long way from the muddy tunics o’ yours I find in me wash. So ah, what’s the reason. One of ‘em nobles have a gal you’re sweet on?”

Rubin shook his head, “No, I-”

“Oh! So it’s one them nobles themselves!” Jackie interrupted, walking up to the mirror. Yeah, I saw a couple pretty women down there, a little old for you I thought, but-”

Rubin’s intent was actually to impress his father and Kain, but the idea she suggested made his face turn red nonetheless. “No…”

“Ah, so it is!” Jackie nudged Rubin lightly with her elbow. “Well, I thought I’d come an’ fetch ya. The council has started. Look’s like you’re late for you’re date.”

Jackie,” Rubin said turning to the door. “I’m not ‘sweet’ on nobody. But, if I’m late, I gotta go.”

“Sure, sure, Rubin. Don’t worry. Your secret’s safe with Jackie!” she shouted after him with a chuckle.

Arriving downstairs, Rubin stood up straight when he saw General Kain standing outside the dining room. He did his best to look old. “General Kain. How late am I?” he asked formally.

“They’ve served supper, toasted, and are bringing up some of the chief concerns before they go into city reports. I believe Lord Jerred is speaking in his defense. It is true that his troops are still in Uldar, and Peter has inquired as to why,” Kain answered. “And master Rubin, you look like a lord today, if I may say.”

Rubin nodded and smiled. “Thank you.” Taking a deep breath in, Rubin walked into his own dining room full of people whose faces were but vague remembrances in his mind, and whose importance was much greater than his. His walk and demeanor drew attention away from Jerred, who was both standing and speaking.

“My purpose is merely to… Hello, who is this?” asked Jerred outright addressing Rubin, with a curious look on his face. He had taken no note of him several months ago, and certainly did not remember him now.

“I, uh…” Rubin cleared his throat. “I am Master Rubin Natheil, son of Lord Peter and Lady Aria, who host this meeting and ready your beds for stay this night. I apologize for my lateness in attending this meeting, and for its interruption.” Less confident then he sounded, Rubin hurriedly walked over to his mother and father’s spot at the table. Peter put a hand down on his shoulder and whispered a ‘good job’.

“Ah. I see,” Jerred said. “Well met master Rubin. As I was saying, my purpose for holding soldiers in Uldar is merely to continue to oversee Haldred’s plans. I am unsure of his governing tactics, and am making sure they are as secure as can be.”

“We have asked you repeatedly to leave,” Haldred said.

“Yes,” replied Jerred, “but I fear that your rule alone in Uldar is a danger to your people. If the council will take a look at the reports I have supplied, they will see that your living conditions and food provisions are well below their required minimum.”

“You lie Jerred,” protested Haldred. “The food provisions are low because of your troops! If they were not there, then we would have more then adequate food.”

Rubin took a look at the parchment that sat within Aria’s hands. He noted that in the report, the troops Jerred provided were included in the population count of Uldar, causing the provisional need for the country to increase beyond their storage.

Jerred shook his head. “Be careful where you throw your terms Haldred. I am not your enemy. If what you say is true, then what of the living requirements? Why do your peasants sleep in unworthy homes?”

“Lies again Jerred! Our men and women sleep well.”

“So you say,” Jerred snapped back. “Let the council decide then. They have the proof. Peter, I ask that you hold a vote to see what the Council of Litheme rules of my being in Uldar.” Jerred sat with a smirk on his face.

Aria looked to Peter in small fright. “Jerred still owns the council?” she whispered.

“Enough of them,” Peter said under his breath while standing up. “Right then. Who of the council supports Jerred’s continued actions of in Uldar. I do not support them.”

The vote went around the table. Jerred and his other four said yes, as well as three other small provinces. Rubin noted that none of them were particularly large, or rich. The vote ended in favor of Jerred’s actions, eight to seven.

“And so it is passed. Jerred has the council’s agreement with his actions. What is the next issue?” Peter asked with a sigh.

“Trade,” spoke Vivian Volstar. “The dwarves of Rockshier still refuse to trade with us.”

“This again!” shouted Gildar, who was present with axe in hand, yet again. He uttered another curse, and twisted his axe in his hand angrily.

“Yes this again. We have tried to reason with you, but…” Vivian would go on for some time. Rubin noted that it was particularly like the last meeting. In fact the arguments would turn out the same, as would the outcome. The council could not force the dwarves to trade, but Vivian, Jerred and his group would try to force him his hand anyways. Rubin learned a bit about the determination (and lack of patience) of dwarves that day.

The meeting slowly passed into talks of city reports, and strategies. This time Rubin listened intently. While it was not his strong point, he would listen to the counseling of others.

“And what of the north,” became the subject after the supper had come and gone and wine had been served a second time. “Kelven, do you work to bring defense to the upper borders?”

“Oh I forgot, the invasion,” said Kelven sarcastically. “Don’t you ever tire of your relentless speech?”

“Matters of importance are worth bringing up repeatedly. I just wish you’d damn well listen,” answered Peter.

“They are matters of lunacy,” Jerred scoffed. “Baseless accusations brought forth by an old man, who uses you to do his bidding.”

“Watch your tongue Jerred,” was a swift answer from Aria. “My husband, and this council may have patience with you, but I will not allow you to insult a friend of mine in my own home.”

“Aye,” came the words of support of Gildar.

Vivian came to the side of Jerred and Kelvin. “You must see the foolery in the notions. Your husband is being used.”

Aria looked at Vivian angrily. Her green eyes became heated with short temper. “A wizard’s notions are never set afoot by foolery,” she quoted her friend from years ago.

“Ah yes,” Jerred spoke again, putting his feet up on the table. “The would-be wizard. Does that not in itself proclaim in insanity? The old man was an idiot Aria. Nothing more.”

“You’ll watch ye tongue, Jerred, or I’ll cut it off!” shouted Gildar, pointing his axe to Jerred.

“And look who he has to his defense,” continued Jerred, “A hot headed dwarf.”

“Enough Jerred!” Peter roared, slamming his fist against the table. “We will not speak of this issue again this council. I am sorry for even bringing it up.” There was a grumbling silence amongst them for a great while. Peter took Aria’s hand and soothed with silent words the flare in her heart. When time enough had passed, Peter pushed the meeting forth. “Any other new business…” None was brought.

The lords and ladies retired for the night, and many of them left early the next day. Rubin made sure to be up before the early sun to greet them all on their way out, even Jerred.

Sanford Whyte was the first he would see. The old man made his way to the outer courtyard and had his two attendants ready his wagon. Rubin offered his hand. “Safe journeys Lord Sanford.”

He looked generally surprised to greet the boy, and met his hand. “Indeed child, I will. It is good that the youth are beginning to become involved; the air becomes stale around those council meetings. A mud trap, I fear though. Make sure you keep your wits about you.” He took his time to get settled on his plush cushion seat, and finally gave a nod to the boy. “Safe days.”

Jerred only smiled when he was greeted by the boy, and gave his hand a firm shake. “Be careful how you play in this game, Rubin. Your father and I don’t see eye to eye, but if you will be joining the council soon in partnership with him, then perhaps we can make progress.”

“We’ll see, Lord Jerred,” replied the boy. “Progress will be made when we agree on the right decisions.”

“Indeed,” he said, mounting his steed. “I hope you have a good eye for what is right, and do not waste your time with unneeded things.”

The last councilman who would greet him with more than two words was Gildar. “Well lad,” he stated firmly, planting his hands on his hips. “I’ll be partying with you soon I hear. Your sixteenth in a couple of weeks, yar dad tells me. That’s a big step for humans, eh? A man, huh. Well, we’ll see about that huh?” Tremendous laughter boomed out of the dwarf’s lungs. “Good ta see ya ‘gain.”

With another (painful) handshake and a ‘good bye’ Rubin watched as the dwarf, accompanied by another of his kind, and kin, waddled down the road, with no aid of horse or wagon. Rubin made sure to burn the image of each councilman into his mind, along with their name, so that he could remember them should the need arise.

Justin Silverblade · June 2, 2002