By Volk-Oboroten'
As the afternoon sun began to slide west over the mountains, Starven basked in unusual warmth, for spring had come early. Often, the ice on the Sea of Souls wouldn't break until late April. But this year, the first cracks in the floes had appeared in March, revealing the dark, blue water of the vast lake.
Villagers gathered near a post planted on the edge of the ice pack, not far from where Starven's barges were anchored on the eastern shore. Each fall, after Oblineth sent her icy breath over the land, the villagers would leave a pole in the muddy shallows of the Sea of Souls, as a marker of the severity of the winter. A great celebration would ensue once the pole was free of ice in the spring.
With a great crash, blocks of ice fell away from the pole, as cold water began to flow freely next to the barges facing the southerly wind. The thaw had really started. Soon, the fisherman would be able to go out on the lake, catching the first fresh fish for the town since the fall. One could only eat salted fish for so long without growing tired of it!
Marcomir, who was presiding over the ceremony, lifted a flagon of mead high above the last barge, marking the start of the festival. Many villagers stood on shore, glancing down at the shattered ice. Others headed to the road, where tents had been erected for a party. This year would be different, for Starven had already profited from renewed trade with lands to the south.
"I thought the ice wouldn't break until May," said one villager, looking forlornly at the pole. "After that incredible blizzard in December, I was sure winter would be unusually long."
"At least you didn't bet too much," commented another. "I wonder who won this year. Remember the time Cnivagild's wager won the grand prize, when he predicted the exact hour?"
"Who couldn't! But I still believe the rumors that he cheated. Didn't you hear that he got a mage to use a heat spell to break the ice early?"
"Perhaps. But at least he always used to negotiate good deals with Nasoj's men. Have you seen him around? There are sure to be a number of visitors at the party this year. He'd be certain to want to meet them, to see if they'll make any deals."
"Cnivagild?" said the man, furrowing his brow. "When I saw him, he was busy talking to a bunch of draconians. In fact, I think he's been with them all morning. It's like he's under their spell. . . ."
Closer to the road, a number of villagers were crowding around some travelers on the road. A few had arrived from Caralore, while others had traveled much further, from the unknown countries south of Metamor Keep. Many of the children in the town were very curious, for Starven rarely had many visitors from distant lands when it was ruled by Nasoj.
Lowenherz mingled with the crowd, eager to find out whether any of them planned to settle near Starven. After hearing the news that Valaric's rebellion had broken the wizard's tyrannical rule over the Giantdowns, many men had moved north, seeking vacant lands in the Giantdowns. After all, they'd been invited to help resettle the depopulated region.
The Malachite Order had promised to aid anyone who colonized lands near Caralore, a town where the mysterious cult had a large number of adherents. Of course, some feared that the the Malachites would try to compel newcomers to join their cause, but such worries diminished upon hearing reports of generous land grants. Also, unlike many inhabitants of the Giantdowns, the Malachites didn't seem to give special devotion to the daedra. Except, of course, for devotion to Queen Lilith, who was credited with liberating the region from bondage to Nasoj.
In the middle of one tent, a Malachite cleric unrolled the ancient scroll on a table, eager to instruct the children of his new acolytes. One boy, more skeptical than the others, walked forward and asked, "Isn't your Nameless One just another daedra? Why is he so special?"
"The Friend of Mankind is far different from the daedra for he is a spiritual being older and greater than either the Lightbringer gods or daedra," replied the priest. "The story on this scroll will help explain how the founder of our order met the Nameless One." As more children gathered around, he began to slowly read:
'Once upon a time, a shepherd was bringing his flock home to the cave where he lived.'
"A shepherd?" protested a girl. "What's that? Someone who lives in a cave sounds like a lutin. Or a barbarian. Good people live in towns, not caves."
"He once lived in a city," replied the priest, "But lesser men were jealous of his great abilities. They exiled him into the wilderness, but he knew that he would survive for he had great skills, superior to any abilities of those who would persecute him."
"What happened next?" asked a boy. "Did something try to attack his sheep? Some cruel beast, like a dire wolf . . . one with sharp fangs dripping blood!"
The priest grinned for a moment, and resumed reading: 'Suddenly the sky was torn asunder by a blinding flash of lightning while, almost simultaneously, there followed such a roar of thunder as would have deafened a giant. The shepherd flung himself down upon the bare rock, and hiding his face, prayed to the great Power of Life and Death that he might be spared.'
"A Great Power?" asked another boy. "My parent say that Iluvatar . . ."
The other children stared at him, annoyed at the interruption. The priest paused for a moment, lost in thought, but then resumed telling the story, "Then, looking up, he saw an angelic being standing in the middle of the Heavens with an enormous spear in his hand. Other entities stood near this being, all bearing mighty weapons. There followed another terrifying clap of thunder, and something was hurled from the sky down onto the crags below. A great gust of wind arose and swept over the mountain tops. The valley shook. Then, all was quiet again.
Gradually recovering from his great shock the shepherd rose from the ground and looked around. He saw that a huge cedar tree had been struck by the lightning and was lying across a deep ravine. On the other side of the ravine lay a beautiful peacock, badly hurt but still alive."
"What's a peacock?" asked a curious child.
"It's a bird found deep in the south," answered the priest. "It has wings covered with eyes. Our Master chose to assume this form to show his power, for he is able to see all, anywhere in the world."
"A bird!" said a boy with a laugh. "Why would a powerful being want to become a bird?"
"A peacock is a special bird, for it is an emblem of pride," continued the priest. "Just as the shepherd did not allow lesser men to restrain him, the Nameless One did not accept the unjust decision of the his foes to expel him from the heavens."
Then, the cleric resumed reading from the scroll: "The shepherd crawled across the fallen tree trunk and took the dying bird in his arms. After washing its wounds in a nearby stream, he carried it into the cave which was his home. Without any thought of sleep he tended it throughout the long night. Perhaps the bird from the heavens would give him magical powers if he took care of it? He often dreamed of the day when he would avenge his expulsion from his home. Could this magic fowl fulfill his quest for long-sought vengeance?
When the morning came the peacock had completely recovered and spoke to the shepherd in a human voice, saying: 'Be not afraid, man, for as you were kind to me in my misfortune, so I will reward you and all your descendants. I am the Spirit of Freedom, thrown out of the heavens by Tyrants, beings who want to keep people from discovering the power of their own spirits. But I am not conquered. On earth, as in the heavens, I shall continue the struggle, spreading the message of liberty. You will learn the true power of the human spirit and teach other mortals how to fight against the power of the Tyrants. Celebrate freedom and the wonders of individuality! Be compassionate towards the burning desire for freedom both in yourselves and in others. Delight me with songs. Placate me with prayers. Tend me as you have tended me last night.'
After saying this, the Prince of this World spread his wings and flew away, far above the inaccessible mountain tops. That is why the descendants of the compassionate shepherd sing hymns to glorify the Spirit of Freedom to this very day. Only by fully understanding his message can one know the true freedom the world had when it first emerged from chaos, and how it will one day regain its liberty."
The priest rolled the scroll, hoping that his speech might eventually result in new converts for the Nameless One's faith. Meanwhile, Lowenherz walked next to Beruthiel, who had been closely watching the children, looking to see if any were especially interested in Malachite doctrines. "Is it really right to promote your religion to children?" asked Lowenherz. "It takes many years for people to understand the Lightbringer gods. Surely, it would be very difficult to understand a being who isn't even willing to give his proper name."
"We're always looking for people who will serve the Nameless One," sighed Beruthiel. "But very few are chosen, for he only wants the best to be his true servants. Those who will be completely loyal, have special talents, or in other ways represent the excellence he expects."
A few minutes later, as they continued to walk, Lowenherz turned toward the barges, for he wanted to speak to Marcomir. He stopped for a moment, disturbed by the sight of a cat-lutin. The green feline was intently gazing out on the lake, while scratching furrows in a pine tree with his sharp claws. He seemed quite oblivious to the celebration going on around him.
"I'm not sure what to think about these new lutins," said Lowenherz to Beruthiel. "During the war with Nasoj, I had to kill many of the green . . ."
"There's no need to talk about fighting now," said Beruthiel with a smile. "Or violence. It's all part of that manticore curse you've suffered under. Besides, the Karuvati aren't dangerous. They're loyal to the Emissary of the Nameless One, who dwells in Cirith Morgul. You can be sure they won't raid Starven or any other human settlement."
"I don't know what to think," continued Lowenherz. "They look rather odd."
"I find them adorable," said Beruthiel, flicking her pointed ears. "Any person, even who is just partly feline, is purr-fect for me."
Reaching the barge, Lowenherz saw Marcomir, reclining on a wooden chair. He wondered where Cnivagild had gone, but soon spotted him, far away on the lake shore, still talking to the draconians. Bragamund seemed to be with him.
"Burgomaster, have you been watching those reptiles?" asked Lowenherz. "What are they up to?"
"Those draconians?" replied Marcomir. Before Lowenherz answered, he continued, "I think they arrived on the road from Lik. But I didn't really worry, because we've had lots of draconians pass through here. Even if they don't get along well with most humans, they did help us back in January. Remember, they were almost as effective as the Long Scouts from Metamor."
"But not all draconians are the same," observed Lowenherz. "I've heard that some of them don't turn out right. Some spell goes wrong, and they become unstable. I'm especially concerned about this lizardman calling himself Fire Claw. He's been talking to Cnivagild today for a long time. I wish I knew what they were plotting."
"Plotting? There's nothing to be concerned about here, Lowenherz. Cnivagild accepted the decision of the merchants to go down to Metamor."
"It's not that, Marcomir. I'm afraid the draconian is telling lies, using Cnivagild's desire to profit from his relationship with Baron Calephas. Fire Claw speaks with a forked tongue."
"Of course he does," exclaimed Marcomir, with a laugh. "All of the draconians have forked tongues!"
Meanwhile, far away from Starven's celebration, Bragamund stood next to a draconian mage. He watched Cnivagild haggle with Fire Claw, arguing about which items might be valued in Arabarb. The reptile's green eyes glittered, showing his impatience with this discussion.
"Just watch now," said the mage to Bragamund. "We have ways to quickly settle disputesss. Some of which involve spellsss."
"Really? What sort of spells?" whispered Bragamund.
As Cnivagild continued to talk, a reptileman walked beyond him, carrying a vial with a reddish-pink fluid. He dropped it into a tankard of ale on a bench next to Cnivagild. Meanwhile, another draconian put a claw next to his snout and began to concentrate.
"What's going on?" said Bragamund quietly. "Was that some sort of potion?"
"You made a good guesss" replied the draconian mage, sending a small puff of smoke out of his nostrils. "We call it Lizard Juice, although our Master named it Dragon's Blood. It's one of his new elixirs, created after he met Klepnosss."
"Master?" inquired Bragamund, "What Master? I thought you all served Lilith."
"Some of us were discarded, for we didn't measure up to the Queen's standards. I don't understand why, because she said we had been perfected. Just consider Spiral Horn, who has many skillsss" the mage continued, pointing to a draconian who was intently staring at Cnivagild. "He has psionic powers, but was sent away. Someone claimed that he was mentally unstable, but I think that's just jealousy. At least the Malachites appreciate beings who are superior! Far better than mammalsss!"
"So you joined them," concluded Bragamund, watching Cnivagild drink the ale. "Could you help me learn the Malachite secrets? They're supposed to possess arcane magic."
"We'll help you if you aid usss," said the mage. "Come with me now, for I'm sure Cnivagild will be more receptive to our plan now. There's much to discusss."
After walking down to the lake shore, Bragamund stood next to Cnivagild who seemed drunk. Or was he merely dizzy? To the left, Fire Claw spread his wings for a moment, feeling the warm southerly wind on their thin membranes, but then began to speak. "The ice has broken! Thus, we'll depart tonight, heading directly across the Sea of Soulsss. Our mage can ensure that we race across the lake, reaching the far shore before Starven realizes what's amisss."
"What do you want me to do?" asked Bragamund. "I'm eager to serve the draconians, after you saved our town from the lutins in January."
"Ahhh," said Fire Claw. "A human who wants to work for usss. Have you heard of the dangerous missions carried out by the Lilith cultistsss? We want you to find a dragon nest, one near the shrine of the Oracle of Samekkh. In that way, you'll prove your skill. The Malachite Order is sure to grant many boons to one who can successfully carry out such a daring mission. A man who is courageousss."
"Just show me the path when we reach the western shore," said Bragamund. "I haven't gotten any real power from Lilith, so I'd do anything to acquire true magic."
"I'll go to the barges and get the things you wanted," said Cnivagild, blankly staring back at Fire Claw. As he walked away, Bragamund noticed a strange green glow around his friend's ears. Perhaps it was a mind control spell? He wished he knew how to make magic potions.
A few hours later, as the party began to disperse, the draconians watched as the sun began to set over the Sea of Souls. They were glad to be alone, free to discuss business away from troublesome humans. Fire Claw pointed to the distant hills on the opposite side of the lake, recalling his orders from the Black Claw, given after he left Cirith Morgul.
"What do you think will happen to the mammal? Will he grow scalesss?" asked Spiral Horn, after making a fiendish laugh. "Back at Cirith Morgul, you said the elixir was untested."
"Only part of it hasn't been used. The special ingredient," replied Fire Claw. "The mind control fluid works perfectly."
"But couldn't we have given it to some of the humans in Lik?" asked Spiral Horn, flicking his tail to the side. "It would have been so humorousss . . ."
"Absolutely not!" bellowed Fire Claw, baring his fangs. "Never question orders from the Black Claw! He wants to make sure that the humans don't get too suspiciousss. Especially not near his base. Remember what he said: ‘Only use potions on people who are expendable.' We must be cautiousss."
"He's the Bosss," hissed Spiral Horn. "But I'd really like to know. How long will it take? Aren't we supposed to report back what happensss?"
"Of course," concluded Fire Claw. "But don't get too anxious, for I doubt if you'll see anything until we've crossed the lake. Remember, we don't want anyone in Starven to know what's happened. They all know that traveling in the Dragon Mountains can be dangerousss."
"So if someone vanished without a trace, they won't suspect usss?"
"Exactly! No one will guesss!" exclaimed the draconian leader. "Meet me at the outermost barge, just after the moon rises. Then, we'll be ready to start our mission, and bring chaos to Calephasss."
[End of Part Four]