Chapter three: Family Ties
A frantic cry and the crash of tables and crockery interrupted the civility of the great hall. The king jumped to his feet as seven polt hens scrambled over tables being chased by a gredeck. Servers, guests and courtiers shouted and leaped every which way as the great reptile hunted over their dinner plates and knocked over their water goblets. Torches fluttered in the flurry of activity.
“Guards! Quickly!” shouted the king. He pointed to the side of the hall. “People! Take cover!” There was a deafening clamor as the castle guards rushed from their posts toward the beast on the banquet table while simultaneously all other occupants of the room were fleeing in horror. Gredecks were large, powerful and very carnivorous. Their bite held a deadly concoction of venom and filth. If the poison didn’t kill you the wound infection would. Normally forest dwellers, they were rarely a threat to the castle; at least not a naturally occurring one. This, however, was the third one in a month that had found its way through the castle walls.
Amidst the chaos was a solitary still figure. Wise eyes looked calmly out from the dais behind the three great wooden thrones. Garbed in the blue robes of the sect of nature wizards, the Enchantress Corinne – healer, seer, and protector of his Highness, King Alban of Galawynde, stood sharply watching the movements of the creature and of her liege. The gredeck emitted a laborious guttural groan.
Alban ran about amongst his guards with the speed of a kebral cat even though he
was approaching his fifty-
“That’s the biggest one yet,” shouted one guard. The beast wheeled around darting its wild dewy eyes side to side.
“It’s easily as large as me,” shouted another, as she ducked a swat of its sinuous tail.
“Look out!” cried Alban as the beast rose as if to leap. It swatted, swept the air with its tongue, and reared back. As it jumped, fourteen weapon blades rose to meet it. Suddenly it froze in midair. Gasps of surprise turned to wonder as they marveled at the now still, gaping jaw and out stretched hind legs. Alban, however, knew what had happened. He turned to look at the enchantress. Her hand was raised in a magical gesture.
“One should not harm an innocent,” she said with a deferential bow of her head. “unless you plan to eat it and give thanks.” Alban slowly smiled.
“You are quite right, Corinne.” He said. “It is simply hungry.” He gestured for several guards to remove the paralyzed gredeck.
“It will not harm you,” said Corinne gently into the nervous faces. “It will take several hours to recover to its normal state.”
Alban approach the dais. In all the confusion Corinne had remained steadfastly at her post. Her hands were humbly crossed before her. All was calm; save for her huge mane of curly dark hair, which was only ever tamed back by a wide silver band emblazoned with the eye of the mother goddess, the symbol for peace. Alban turned briefly to watch the guards trying to lift and move the massive beast. Then he turned back to the sorceress.
To this gentle King, Corinne was his adviser, his confidant and his dear friend. Her frame and stature showed a healthy, strong, powerful woman but her delicate careworn features told a truer tale of her 61 years of life.
“What would we ever do without you, Corinne?”
“I fear you would become more war-
“I fear, good lady, that that may be inevitable.” He lowered his voice. “What do you make of this invasion?”
“I sense that this is an enchantment. These poor beasts would never have strayed
like this on their own. Malbanor had a hand in this,” she posed as the gredeck’s
tail disappeared out of the door accompanied by the whispered curses of the palace
guards. Alban sighed. Malbanor was a spindly, knobbly old sorcerer of the dark sect.
He did not serve the balanced energy of the All as Corinne did. He served the darker,
baser energies. He also served a dark, base man -
“I do not understand Corbin,” lamented the good king, “I have no issue to concern him. Why does he set upon us?”
“I do not know my lord,” she straightened.
“He has ruled upon the mountain these 23 years without so much as a single messenger to visit us,” Growled Alban. “and now we get threats near every fortnight.”
“He must have a reason for these attacks,” she stated thoughtfully. “I shall perform a special ritual. I shall seek to enter his thoughts.” She lowered her head. “I will need to prepare. The ritual will take time. Send out word that I am not to be disturbed for three days.” The king nodded gravely. He knew this would not be agreeable news to his two daughters. Since the loss of their mother, his beloved Cirena, three years before, they had both sought out Corinne for her comfort and her wisdom.
She strode from the Great Hall with calm purpose. Alban watched after her. He remembered back to the day Cirena had introduced Corinne to the court. The two women had been friends since childhood, but hadn’t seen each other in the seven years that Corinne (the older by 5 years) had been apprenticed to the League of the Dendrities.
From the tutelage of the great sorceress Wyste emerged a sober beauty with notable skill and a powerful, dry sense of humor. She was embraced in the court and became quick friends with Alban, and not two years had passed that she had surpassed all royal counselors as the young king and queen’s most trusted servant and adviser. Her ability as a seer, healer and sorceress were unsurpassed by any in her sect.
There had been no doubt, even then, that Corinne would be named protector of the
royal children when they came; so when the fair Aurelia arrived -
It was much in this manner that Tallaugh entered the castle this day…
“The goddess has forsaken that animal!” She roared in a flurry of skirts and grass. “Forever it has been mild in demeanor!” She pulled straw from her long curly black hair and brushed the dirt from her robes as she strode furiously through the hall and into one of the side corridors. “Three days thus!” She whipped her head from side to side as she passed each castle guard. They knew better than to address her when she was in one of her tempers. She stopped fast in front of one of them. He cringed in anticipation.
“Three days!” She spat at him.
“Th-
“The finest, strongest, surest horse in all the valley-
“Yes, my…mm…my lady,”
“…has thrown me three days in a row!!” She roared.
“Mmm…phre…mmbb,” whimpered the guard, eyes shut tight.
She narrowed her eyes at him and sniffed. She supposed it wouldn’t help to yell at him. Corinne always advised her to temper her humor when she was angry. She had been trying to teach this dark haired princess control and patience in her magic and her dealings with others. There were days, however, when the sorceress spied Tallaugh through her tower window sending livery squires fleeing from orange and red fire bursts spouting from within the royal stables where the Princess kept several high born horses.
Tallaugh realized she must go to the enchantress. She wheeled to go and found herself face to face with an enormous gredeck.
“WAAAAH!”she jumped.
“S…sorry my lady,” sputtered a new guard. There were seven of them grasping this massive beast and carrying it along. “I beg your forgiveness….please…may we pass? Your good father has bid us dispose of this poor creature back in the forest.” The Princess stepped out of the way, too surprised to speak. The parade of guards shuffled by. “Many thanks my lady… my good name but this lizard is heavy!”
The Princess watched this procession pass, then in surprised dismay she met eyes with the first guard, who regarded her coweringly. She looked down, blinked and then turned to go. Corinne would have good words for her advisement.
* * * * * * * * *
Flower blossoms tumbled on the gentle wind, landing on the gray castle stones and in the hair of the fair Aurelia. She delicately traced the shape of a vine clinging to the battlement on which she sat. She wondered about the ancient wars and how these walls and towers must have been battered. Her eyes followed the contours of the scars left by ancient weapons. The sound of clattering arrows echoed in her mind. Through half closed eyes she imagined the shouts of warriors and the thunder of horses. The ground tremored under a thousand marching souls. With a startled frown, she opened her eyes and looked around to be sure no one was watching. There had been peace in the land for two and a half lifetimes. Not one person living had ever witnessed the carnage of battle. And yet, her vision was not of the old warring kingdoms. She saw the deep purple vestments of her father’s own royal army. She shuddered off the remnants of the magical sight. Her clouded eyes returned to sharp focus. Aurelia’s powers of sorcery were growing very strong. Sometimes, as now, visions came to her unbidden.
“Ho! My lady!” called a voice just then from below. Aurelia leaned across the cool stones to view the grassy outer courtyard below. It was Drewer, Mouldry and Gregor – minstrels from the distant village of Gouldridge. They had been taken on at the castle six moon’s earlier at the New Year’s festival after they had delighted the two princesses with their songs and antics. “My princess looks a pure vision of light in a veil of gelfma blossoms,” spouted Drewer, who was quite taken with Aurelia. “I shall write a song to your beauty.”
Aurelia smiled, “I shall await your sweet words.” Encouraged by this he spoke on enhancing each word with sweeping gestures.
“A sweet blossom, safe within her battle worn walls… a magical bloom overlooking the resplendent valley… a sweet yellow flower at the ready to take on the thorniest viney invaders…”
Aurelia suddenly grasped her head. His symbolic words had brought on another vision: A whirl of tarnished helmets and hands clutching over the castle walls and screams of familiar voices. She staggered and grasped the wall. “My lady!” shouted Drewer, “are you well?!” The three looked up in alarm.
“…oh… I fear I am not,” she breathed and stumbled. She put her hands to the side of her head.
“Pray! Seek the healer presently!” called Gregor. “Your color has drained.”
“Aye,” she said, “I shall…presently.” Slowly she stepped away from the wall and found the wide stairs down toward the center of the castle. With a hand to her swimming head she sought Corinne’s chamber.
As she walked on, her head began to clear and the nauseating dizziness ebbed away. She blinked hard as she turned the corner of the darkest hall. As she approached the entrance to Corinne’s chambers she was met with a barred door and a guard who was steeling himself against the tirade of her own good sister.
“Good man stand aside! I am to see Corinne!”
“My lady, she is not to be disturbed for three days…” He nodded at Tallaugh and then to Aurelia.
“Absurd!” Tallaugh insisted. “Whatever for?”
“I know not. Forgive me.” He said.
“Surely she will see her god children…” began Aurelia.
“Aye, you’d think, but from the healer’s own lips and your father’s it was ordered. No one shall disturb her until sundown three days hence.”
“But why three days!?” Tallaugh looked at her sister incredulously.
“My only knowledge is that she’s been in there nearly an hour and there are such distasteful smells!” said the guard.
“It must be a spell she musters – and one of great power to need such time to cultivate.” marveled Aurelia.
“Come!” said Tallaugh, “Let’s to father. He will have an answer. “She turned to Aurelia who was greening up again. “Poor dear! Take my arm.”
* * * * * * * * *
Hurried footfall echoed along the halls and corridors as the king approached the kitchens. He flexed his fingers held too long in tight fists. He needed a gentle draught to calm him. The thought of what Corinne might see in her visions strangled his innards into knots of unrest. He hoped upon hope that Corbin did not seek to destroy the peace in the land. The ancestors sacrificed everything to bring peace: kingdoms destroyed, families torn away from their homes and each other and livestock starved. Even after 174 years the horrors of the wars still echoed in the minds of all good people.
The horrible stories of battle were all that remained, however. There were no memories
of how it all began or how it finally ended. Alban slowed his pace a bit. He supposed
that was best after all. There was neither cause to justify nor prowess to glorify
– nothing but the tragedy and ignominy of what war is. The soldiers were victims
of their own senseless battle -
Alban sighed sadly as he approached the turn into the kitchen and heard the whispers
of the scullery servants. He rounded the corner and was nearly de-
Staggering back with fright, the king shouted. “Good mother goddess and all that is sacred!” He cursed, “what in the…”
One of the scullery stewards scuttled forward. “Your Majesty! Please! Madame Corinne…”
“No! Don’t tell me…,” the king held up his hand. “She stopped here to get some special herbs did she?”
“Yes sir,… just in time.” He whispered gratefully.
“Indeed!” he said studying the frozen animal. Four, he thought. Two in one day
-
“Sir, I… well…,” said the steward indicating the lizard floating in the doorway. “what about….”
“Yes,” Alban recovered, “quite right. Fetch a round of guards then. Tell them to remove it gently to the forest. Then tell the head guard to attend me presently in my antechamber.”
“Of course, my liege,” the steward bowed.
“Oh, and if you please, a draught to calm my nerves.”
The steward eyed the great reptile warily and then the weary eyes of the King. “Certainly sir.”
* * * * * * * * * *
Alban strode carefully down the corridor towards his chambers. He was carrying a steaming tankard filled with the calmative broth the scullery steward had concocted for him. As he reached the large oaken door he grasped the latch with one hand and raised the tankard to his lips with the other hand.
“Father!” cried Tallaugh dragging Aurelia behind her. He almost caused himself a mischief with the scalding liquid.
“Goddess preserve us, Daughter!” he sputtered angrily through the spray of broth from his beard. She cowed. “Must you stampede like one of your surly beasts?” He swung open the door to his antechamber.
“Forgive me, Father, only it has come to our attention that Corinne will not see us, and…”
“Indeed she will not,” he stated firmly, wiping his beard with his hands.
“But…” Began Tallaugh holding up the sinking Aurelia.
“Not a word! She is on a task from me – a vital task; and she will not be disturbed,” insisted the King, “We shall determine the root of all this chaos. Three months of gredecks, evil portents, the bewitched servant who leaped to her death from the bridge… the…”
“The sickness Aurelia is stricken by…” finished the dark sister. She glanced over at her fair sister who was still swooning in all shades of green.
“Aurelia! Dear one!” Alban said. “What is it? Is it true what your dear sister tells me?”
“Yes, father… I…” Aurelia’s eyes rolled up and she crumbled to the floor. A vision flooded up before her.
A pair of green eyes flashed at her. The royal forest guard perched in the swinging limbs of a tall tree. Drums pounded out a marching beat as the small sea of purple vestments passed out of the castle toward the rising cloud of dust from the mountain. The cry went up from the guards in the treetops. “To arms! To arms! It has come!”
Fury. Deafening roar. Maddening silence. Sharp focus lights upon the face of a single soldier. She’s crying. Then to another – he is trembling. Darkness comes.
“Daughter! Aurelia awake! Awake!” The Princess’ head lolled as she was shaken from her stupor. “Dost thou hear me child?” she looked up at him with brimming lavender eyes.
“Father,” she whispered tremulously, “I am afraid.”
“Of what my child?” he asked tenderly.
“…of what I see… of what is to come.” She choked.
* * * * * * * * * *
Corinne stood before a wide metal bowl. She held out her hand above it clutching a measured amount of sopora weed, an herb that induces deepened thought and consciousness. She spoke whispered incantations. It had been more than a day since she began mixing and grinding and summoning the sacred energies. Each step was precise and deliberate. Each word had to reflect strength and humility. She had not rested nor slept. It must be perfect.
She reached out her free hand and beckoned the powers to come to her. With a gentle touch to the altar hearth, flames sprang up about the bowl. It held all the ingredients she needed. She repeated the chants over and over – building the power.
“ Dana fortis sidhe venir Tuatha de Danaan Lugh venir.”
Slowly a gentle steam began to rise from the brew. She circled the great bowl three times moonwise still holding her hand full of herbs. The flicker of fire reflected in her intense eyes. Beads of perspiration began to appear on her forehead. She breathed deeply of the steam. When she exhaled she felt herself sinking deeper into her thoughts. She made her eyes focus on her hand as she dropped the sopora weed into the bubbling concoction.
“…Tuatha de Danaan …Lugh venir …”
She reached for a small tankard. She plunged it into the brew and drew it out. She filled her mouth and swallowed hard before she could taste it. She placed the tankard down and leaned right up to the large bowl. She shook her head to focus her eyes. Her trance was deepening.
She raised her arms over the bowl and let the steam rise up her body and up her arms. She breathed out slowly and willed the wisps of steam into a cohesive cloud between her arms. A slow, roiling swirl of white steam was before her like a storm held captive.
She stared deeply into the cloud. Her mind focused on King Corbin. She tried to send her mind to his, calling his name mentally.
“Corbin…” The cloud of steam began to swirl more quickly. She willed her mind to travel the distance.
“Corbin…” Small areas of light flickered in the cloud. “Mountain King…” She felt the sensation of flying over the land. She breathed more deeply. Focus. The steam was fragrant with the powerful herbs. It filled her lungs and crept into her mind.
“CORBIN…” She echoed in her mind. “Show yourself to me. Reveal your thoughts.” The cloud flashed like a silent lightning storm now. But dim images began to coalesce. “Gently, gently, come tell me… Why do you beset us? Why do you threaten Alban? Why do you set upon the Nourse Wood? Show me now.” she steadied her feet on the cold stone floor. The image snapped into sharp focus:
A woman strode about a dark chamber. She was so heavily clad in dense woolen robes that all that could be seen was her large cat like eyes and her pinched face. She walked away. Corinne willed herself to look down and she saw large male hands and gilded arm braces. She realized she was seeing through Corbin’s own eyes. He was seated at a small table. The woman spoke to him in a deep, disdainful voice.
“You are a fool!” she spat. “You are King here! And yet, that old withered man has you ready to flee like a startled game bird.”
Corinne felt Corbin take a deep breath. He growled through his teeth. “I never said I meant to leave.” The woman’s sank languidly down on a chaise and stared defiantly at him. Corinne believed this was his queen, Lavinia, herself.
“Then what do you propose to do – assuming the old wretch is right?”
Corinne felt the mountain king wince. He did not think insulting the old wizard was wise. “I mean to fight,” he said lowly.
“Fight?!” said the queen with a laugh. Corbin ran his hand across his brow and over his coarse beard. He turned his head away and Corinne found herself looking at an image of the Mountain King in a distorted looking glass. He was a large, muscular man. His green eyes were tired and sunken. Long wavy black locks of hair fell over his low brow. He licked his thick lips.
“I will conquer the Nourse Wood.” he said finally.
The Queen turned to look at him. Corinne noted a thoughtful demeanor in her. “Conquer the Nourse Wood?” Corbin detected her interested tone too and wheeled around.
“Yes my dear!” He cooed. “Just think. Trade the mountains for the rich forest.” The Queen said nothing but looked about the chamber, rubbing the backs of her hands thoughtfully.
Corinne did not like his words. Why give up his sunny and fruitful mountainside? She thought.
“Go to Malbanor then.” Said Lavinia dismissively.
The image faded and Corinne struggled to hold her connection to the King. She laid one hand on her bowl to steady her. “Why?” She cried mentally. “Why do you do this? Why do you choose this?” Focus! She thought. The image cleared once again.
An old man stood before her. It was Malbanor. His wiry white hair fell almost to his waist and his gray robes looked decidedly heavier than his wispy old frame could support. He was entranced in a portentous vision. It held dark images and thunderous noise.
“What do you see?” It was Corbin’s voice.
“Tssh!” the old man hushed him. His eyes darted around the cloudy vision. Corinne sensed a different attitude in the King and realized suddenly that this vision of the wizard and Corbin must be of a time that preceded the conversation with the Queen. “Mmm!” said the old one. “Mmm, yes.” After a moment the sorcerer gasped and waved his hands about to clear the air of the vision.
Corbin frowned at him. “Well, what is it, man? Let’s have out with it!”
Malbanor bowed slightly. His voice was raspy. “My Lord, my vision is clear and yet unclear…portentous and yet vague.”
“What does that mean? Speak words I can understand!” boomed the King.
Malbanor bowed again. “My Lord, the vision spoke to me. It said that the mountain shall fall.”
“The mountain shall fall?” Corbin inclined his head dubiously. Malbanor straightened with indignance.
“The mountain shall fall.” insisted the old one. “I saw and heard great noise and crashing and dust and a great voice cried out that the mountain had fallen.”
“What shall be done?” said Corbin. “Can it be stopped?”
“I think not my lord,” the sorcerer sniffed haughtily.
“Why? Explain.”
“Your Majesty, one cannot change the future.” belittled Malbanor. “It is fated. Besides…” he smirked, “I cannot see you holding up a mountain.”
Corbin wheeled on him, but quickly thought better of chastising the powerful wizard. Corinne held fast to the vision, but her own thoughts began to invade. The sorceress Wyste, her own teacher and master of “the sight” always insisted that one could change the future that was seen in a vision – that the events a vision predicted were merely the likeliest outcome under the existing circumstances. This puzzled her.
She had been distracted too long. She began to lose control of the vision. She opened her eyes wide and forced herself to hold on. The images clouded. “Show me Corbin. Show me what he plans to do.” Suddenly an image of Corbin steadied before her. She was no longer seeing the world through his eyes. She looked down to see the gray robes and grizzled hands she knew. Malbanor! She swallowed hard.
“You called for me, my lord?”
Corbin turned around. He had a somewhat crazed look about him. “Malbanor! You smug old fool!” The wizard raised his eyebrows and grasped at his robe in irritation. “I have solved our little problem.”
“Have you? Pray, my lord, do enlighten me.” Said Malbanor in such a rapt manner Corinne felt he must have rehearsed it a great deal.
“If the mountain shall fall, then we shall leave to build a new home. We shall extend the kingdom to the forests in the valley.”
“But the forests are ruled by the red haired king, Alban. His people love him well and serve him loyally,” reminded the sorcerer.
“I of course anticipate some… well… resistance,” smiled the dark king. Malbanor turned to look at him critically. Even this wizard of the dark energies could not believe he meant to engage in battle.
“You mean to attack them?” asked the wizard.
“If needs be,” said Corbin slowly.
“My lord, there has not been the war in the land for almost six generations. Not a living soul has done battle.”
“Not here.” mused the King. “…but in other lands, yes! Fear not. We shall find someone to train our guards.”
“But…”
“In the meantime,” interrupted the King, “we shall weaken them.”
“Weaken them?”
“Send them fear and sickness and…well… other means of attack that could be…construed as natural… something nature could set upon them. Slowly weaken their will and their resources.”
Malbanor stared intensely at the King. Corinne could feel his uncertainty, but that feeling was quickly followed by a sinister gratification. “Yes, my lord. As you command.” The Wizard turned to go and scuttled toward the door. As he put his hand on the latch he turned to the looking glass. His heavily bagged eyes sharpened.
“I sense you there, whoever you are!” Hissed the sorcerer. “I assure you, whatever you have seen will not aid the forest king! I shall find you and your King. I will not be stopped!” He placed his finger to his temple.
Corinne cried out in pain and fell helplessly to the floor. She struggled to one elbow. “Guard!” she cried with her waning strength. “GUARD! Summon the King…!” Then she lost consciousness.
