KINGDOM 3100
The Song of Val'ha
THE SECOND COMING OF XORUS

On the last night before he was to leave, Trisahn sat on the sleep under the window facing Val’ha, the Night Moon his namesake on his shoulders and hearth fire reddening his face. They ate. "I thank you once more for all you have done for me. It is a rare kindness to minister the wounds of one pursued as you found me."

"When you were gone the first time and the posse-goers appeared the instant after my discovery, I confess that even had I told them all I knew, in truth I did not expect to see you again."

"I had little strength that morning," said Trisahn, "but enough to devise my escape in the night before you awoke. I planned to use the treasure to retire from my guild, but it is very rare for the dead to take up farming in the countryside to will out their years." They laughed. "Come with me, I ask once more, Val’ha; I have grown to care for you and though I am a bandit by skill, honest is my heart in bidding you to join me in Moncrovia."

Val’ha arose, looking down, and left the hut door open when she stepped into the clearing, the glade silvered by moonlight. She traversed the periphery of the end-grasses, listening to a wind up from the valley and the scamping of the wood animals and her father’s dweemtweezles. She watched the stars for a few long minutes and returned to her home to wish Trisahn goodnight.

**

Val’ha stood in a white-barked boat, shadowed banks on either side of the green river she traveled in her dream that night. The green river was not clear under the moonglow, and she feared leaning too far either way to see further would rock the boat and she would fall in. At the riverhead two golden orbs appeared but the more Val’ha regarded them, the closer to stars they became until they were part of the sky.

From the darkness of the eastern bank she saw a faint light of lavender color, growing and moving toward her. Val’ha could not discern its source; it silhouetted the trees and woodferns that in turn kept its true form from her view. The boat continued forward in the murky river on its own; she did not look back to see if the beacon hovered or came nearer, but heard behind her the sound of someone entering the water with great slowness.

A hum, deep and terrible, grew steadily to the point Val’ha covered her ears. On the western shore, a wall of darkness covered the trees and stars and grew as though to fall down upon her. Her gaze riveted on it and her neck ached from strain; the black wall curled over the rest of the sky like the tunnel of a vast cave. The dark wings of its night-swallowing blackness landed on the eastern riverbank, leaving Val’ha to see only forward and down.

The boat sprang a leak, a splash of green water roiling over her left foot. The purple glow, spread into the wholeness of the water, was steadily overtaking her boat and all of the air within the black tunnel; it enveloped her and the boat, moving steadily past and forward. The loud hum became a screech like a thousand hideous birds, scraping nails on slate and almost a voice. Water pouring into the boat covered Val’ha’s ankles, green with a lavender glow all about her. She peered into the river and saw faces just below the surface. She screamed but could not hear herself. The boat began to sink under the water’s weight, at her knees, now at her fingertips. She fell forward when the boat capsized under her weight, hitting its prow and falling, falling and sinking into the water.

Val’ha closed and opened her eyes and was in the murk; she could not see anything above, beneath or in front of her but heard yet the screeching hum of the night-swallower. Still the river carried her forth, the boat gone, and she tried neither to swim nor breathe. "Kephu’mir," the water whispered, "allemand ment-a recconit va desinot, veca jou, jou’i donil vis. Connit-i vissa Axorn a-va viv-Carsmir, misment-vis ha’leman Carsmir y’sahn, Sahnidomm, va’igo a-de’hadrin ominos."

The glowing river consumed her.

**

Trisahn’s packing awoke Val’ha next morning; she felt cold and a rush of energy, strange tingling in her hands and all through her body. She shook her head and stood. The night’s dream fast faded, but Val’ha knew she would go to Moncrovia with Trisahn that day.

The tingling subsided.

**

"We travel south and west," said Trisahn, using the Elf-rope to bind the changes of clothing and food Val’ha gave him. In her belt she carried her axe and extra rope; for her pack she rolled her clothing, some food, her white-barked logs from the last several days and those following the death of Ma’hadrin in addition to her first log, several vials of dark sap-juice and her writing stick. Trisahn continued, "Carias is unique in the Verdish chain; the only roads go around the mountain.

"Our direction will bypass a difficult ridge, though we must continue over it to avoid the city of Knife at the foot of Carias and Mount Verdish, where four roads meet and the Gyger Stream passes. There are too many dangers for us there." On the shelf where Ma’hadrin’s healing vials had been, now sat nothing. Val’ha began to search for them as Trisahn continued. "We will follow the next ridge, its name is unknown to me, to the top of Mount Carias and take Carias Ridge back down where at its foot we go south to catch the road leading directly into Moncrovia-on-the-Sea." Trisahn completed his packing and stood watching Val’ha. "Have you lost something, dear friend?"

"My father’s medicines, that I used over these years and to cure you. They are as gone as they were here last night. Have you the vials by chance?"

"No, I have no course to rob you, and whatever honor is mine though a thief, nor will I ever; I owe you my allegiance for what you have done for me."

"Strange," Val’ha said to herself as much as to him. After several more moments she realized she would not find the green healing liquid, and with sadness in her heart, she said goodbye to her home in the glade.

**

The companions trekked up Mount Carias for several days, following unmarked blufftops on the way to Carias Ridge. The sixth day favored them, with blue sky and light cloud high over the mountain. The trees thinned as they climbed, more pines and less woodfern. They drank from small springs and rested at midday on the berries and roots they brought and after awhile Val’ha noticed no more of the dweemtweezles she had grown up with.

"I have long been friends with Porcie the Son, whom you shall meet," Trisahn said, slicing a rootstalk. "Our mothers were friends in childhood, and he is both a staunch fighter and trustworthy. His city is of good size, several thousand Humans, Dwarves and others in Moncrovia. All of them dwell in different parts but get on well enough. I believe there are even Volcans and wood-trolls in some small number.

"In fact it was my matron Ste. Lemoya the Volcan Cutpurse who designed the early city, its buildings and architecture, three hundred years ago. She is special to me, for she founded Asch’endra-Conschala’s first guild and invented many of the methods of banditry. I vowed one day to see her great statue at the capital Zehdr City if it has not been stolen by then!" They laughed.

The companions neared the top of Carias, the air cool and light, late in the day. Now could Val’ha, for the first time, see all across the lands unknown to her. To her north, where Mount Carias plunged into lush darkness, Verdish’s high mountaintops rose through the clouds, dark and grey and deep green; Terr’Sol cast dusky colors across its tops and over the sky. Land lay to her west and to the east, and to the south the great blue of Flooher’ty Sea and dots of islands filled her with wonder.

"You see the lands here and there, separated by the mountains," Trisahn said. "Many centuries ago, the west they called Asch’endra, and to the east Conschala before joining into the republic we are now. It is the greatest of the Ten Kingdoms of Hafer’ty, and has long been the center of our Terran world in commerce, power and size. Only the Republic of Jo’hoprinia and the Outlands rival its majesty." His voice carried pride and memories. The Night Moon crept out even as the colors of the sky receded, and they drew fire for the evening’s rest near the top of the small un-journeyed mountain.

After four uneventful days paralleling the crest of Carias Ridge, they descended its forest-covered side and continued due south along the heath-lined foothills of the mountain to avoid what Trisahn described as the point west where four roads came together and he might be recognized. A sheer grey face on the western side of Carias, without crack or climb to Val'ha, watched over their trip.

The foothills during the course of the day lowered to grassy knolls and small pristine vales; in the mid-afternoon, Val’ha spotted a meadow where grazed fat, spotted cows who seemed contented by the world around them. She could make out a fence past the animals and beyond it, a long strip of road going east and west. They crossed the pasture, leapt the fence and made east to Moncrovia.

**

"We should return to the road, Val’ha." Trisahn’s words interrupted her thoughts, and she rolled up her writings in silence. They were off the road in the Carias foothills, the mountain still over them to the east on an early summer midday. "We will dine upon fine food with Porcie, and you will discover many things about Moncrovia, for although Zehdr City our capital lies mid-coast of the western shore of Asch’endra, the joiners of our lands made a wise choice when they set the castle of our kings and queens near here to lessen the temptation to attack both by marauders and demons.

"Eight generations of kings and queens have dwelt in Castle Moncrovia, named after the first Queen by King Oliver in the days of our lands’ first joining at the Age of Insipirility when the joys of being together with loved ones were strong, and strong still with our current royal family." Trisahn shrugged at the leaf-wrapped berries he ate, stood and returned over the hill to the dirt road. As the first shadows of night fell, the road widened and several more horsewagons laden with goods made past them. The large farmlands were gone and now small cottages dotted the foothills to the mountain east and flatlands west, some with second buildings and fences and small gardens, cows and horses and fat white and brown chickens and Humans and their children feeding these animals and tending their gardens.

A turn in the road and Val’ha saw dusky Moncrovia, two-level buildings with wagons and horses tied to posts and sounds of laughter from some of the buildings. Light poured into the street and from one door tumbled a Man with a pewter mug. "Right you are," he called, stumbling back into the building, the Pig’s Eye Tavern. The Man returned, this time hands empty, shook his head and staggered around to an alley next to the tavern and vanished.

Most of the buildings, as they walked through the main street, had hanging signs like the Pig’s Eye. From those marked inn and tavern came sounds of life, with horses tied to posts outside; other signs reading Old Silk Shop, Hevoran’s Place and the like were closed. The structures themselves were Joh’oprinian Darkwood, each with decking and overhang, and light from the second stories of many of them. The doors and windows were slightly wider on top than on bottom, and at points where cross-woods of lighter color intersected at corners and edges, whitish triangles and unknown symbols decorated the buildings.

A Dwarf poured from the Dragon Inn. "Strangers," he called in the common tongue of Humans, "join us in a toast to the King! But as such, I must bid a good fare … ah, my night has come to its past and I must go now." The Dwarf ambled toward them as he spoke, and stumbled into Trisahn; he smelled to Val’ha of rancid honey and moldy rainwater.

"A toast to the King, you say?" Trisahn asked the Dwarf, who heaved for a moment and pulled his head back at the sight of them; Val’ha caught his breath and stepped back.

"Aye." The Dwarf straightened himself somewhat, wiping liquid and food crumbs from his dark beard. "And who are you two, arrived in our city, from the looks, in your Elf-wear? You, sir, are not an Elf, I wager; I am of at least fair mind to see that!"

"We seek Porcie the Son," Trisahn said. "Do you know of his whereabouts?"

"Ha and ha!" spat the Dwarf. "Ogottot Porcie z’ua xhot’j’ttu ti-i, hu optofi." With that, he stumbled off into the night.

Trisahn scowled. "Stupid drunk Dwarf. Hmm."

"Dear Trisahn, I believe the Dwarf told us that Porcie may be inside this inn."

"My dear Elf!"

Through the door of the Dragon Inn, the companions entered the pink-yellow tavern light, smoke and the stench of liquors and gases. In the haze Val’ha spotted many tables and low chairs and benches upon which sat reveling Humans and Dwarves, a great deal of dishevelment and face hair upon many of them. There were some Women, hails and cheers and clanking metal, and the sounds of pipes being puffed and drinks poured. A staircase ran up the back of the room, a blazing hearth to the right and at left a barman kept an array of tough-looking Men and Dwarves’ metal cups filled from bottles of many-colored liquids on shelves behind him. A she-Dwarf at the bar was telling a tale that Val’ha could not hear; when she finished, a great uproarious laughter filled the room and the Dwarf took her draught whole, spilling on her short beard.

Looking about without interest for any save one table, Trisahn led Val’ha to a party of Men in conversation and revelry. "Shall you buy us another round of rum, dear Jonathan?" one Man asked, and they laughed as though everything said carried the utmost merriment; several lifted their cups. "It is not every day the King sends for some of your fine horses, then, is it not?"

Jonathan gazed at the tabletop with satisfaction. "No, and so here, barkeep! A round! And a toast to Porcie!" The Men lifted their ales to one who appeared much different from them, clean-shaven and tall, younger with blue eyes that pierced through the pipesmoke. He wore under his skins a vest of light chains all bound to one another, and as he lifted his cup, they clinked lightly. He straddled a bench, and a small sword hung from a sheath of silver on his belt.

He had not seen Trisahn, and hailed again with his party. "Another toast to King Joel IV, who shall tomorrow acquire some of Jonathan the Trainer’s finest mounts for his army!"

"Hail!" cried the Men (and others at nearby tables).

"But they are all the finest mounts!" protested Jonathan. The Men drank and laughed harder, and the barkeep brought forth a pitcher to refill their cups. In another part of the tavern the she-Dwarf began to sing; a few of the drunk Humans joined her. Porcie got up, swayed momentarily back, then kicked his leg over the bench and clapped Jonathan on the back.

"I shall see you in the morning then!" Jonathan said. Porcie the Son made toward the door; Trisahn and Val’ha followed him. Once outside the Dragon Inn and into the night air, Porcie approached a steed, black and regal, with ropings and saddle, and untied it from a pole.

"Porcie the Son!" Trisahn called. "Porcie, it is Catalon, son of your mother’s best friend from many years ago."

Caught in mid-mount, Porcie’s head knocked forward, his leg went to the ground and he turned, the heartiness gone from his face; he blinked and frowned, checked Trisahn up and down and cleared his throat several times. "Catalon?"

"Yes, but in these times I am known as Trisahn. I have sought you after many days of journey."

Porcie stared left and right, down and then to Val’ha. He shook his head. "Catalon," he said finally. "Trisahn. It is many long years since I have seen you. But for your standing in front of me, I would have thought the rum had given me to see falsely." He grinned widely and went to embrace Trisahn, lifting him off the ground. "Catalon! How have you been? It has been five, no ten years I have not seen you in Moncrovia! What fortune this night brings to me! Ah, we shall go inside and have another drink!" Porcie started forward, almost knocking into Val’ha. "And you! Catalon with an Elf!" He pulled back and put a hand each on her shoulders so that she could not get away, his breath a stench of rum. "Or I should say Trisahn. Is she your troth?"

"No, my journeymate," answered Trisahn. "Val’ha of Carias. We have come seeking lodging and opportunity here in Moncrovia. I made upon you, my friend – you seem in fine spirits and doing well!"

"Yes, a King’s man now. You wear the clothing of the Elves, are you one of the magickal people now?"

"No, and it is a long tale I shall tell you in the morning."

"Then so be it, my old friend. We are some leagues from the Castle where I dwell and must return, and you do not look to have horses, but if you wish, I can take you to the Red Buck Inn – it is only several blocks on the other side of this road; there you may refuge for the night. The innkeeper is my mother and she can give you bed and breakfast and upon my return we will speak about many things!" Porcie led his horse across the main street and down one of the blocks, past the Old Silk Shop and one block left. The Red Buck Inn was alit with cheery glow, and when Porcie introduced Val’ha to his mother and she welcomed Trisahn with a bear’s hug, they were shown up a flight of steps to a small warm-hearthed room where Val’ha for the first time in her life slept on a soft-feather bed of cushions and coverings.

**

Next morning Terr’Sol’s rays filled the room with its bright yellow and the companions sat around a table laden with a breakfast Trisahn heaped onto his plate with vigor. Val’ha did not recognize many of the foods, meat and breads, so took her fill with berries and fruits and some juices. Porcie’s mother, a red-faced woman with his blue eyes and black, peppered hair tied into a tail, fussed about. They finished just as the sound of several horses made closer outside The Red Buck Inn. Val’ha peered out the window to see a grim-faced Porcie tying up his steed with several others in tow; a Woman rode with him. Once inside, he kissed his mother and joined the companions at their table.

"Dear friends." Weariness hung on Porcie; Val’ha noticed he had a longer sword, dark and silver at once, its hilt crusted with yellow and blue jewels and words of an ancient tongue she could not recognize etched down its blade. He and the other rider, still outside, each wore a shirt of metal circlets under a blue-bordered tunic of white with a blue rose and the Elven letter ‘I’ on the front. Porcie’s knees and elbows were armored in silver metal as were his feet. "I must break my oath to share our stories today, for I have been burdened with sad news."

Trisahn’s surprise mirrored Val’ha’s, to which Porcie answered after a pause, "On the eastern edge of town is a merchantry called Carla’s Shoppe. It is owned by a man named Feukpi who is now fugitive, for he has caused murder and more." A tear welled in Porcie’s eye. "Feukpi fancies himself a conjurer, and he has made designs to obtain a treasure. By King’s order the matter is secret still, so I tell you this because I seek posse-goers I can trust, and I pray you may be they. The Woman who was my intended in troth, Priestess Kayleen of the Order of Demigod House in the Clerickal Church of Moncrovia..." His voice cracked. "She has been killed by Feukpi, who escaped in the night. Upon my return to the castle I was told of this by the King himself, who has quested upon me Feukpi’s capture, for he also took a member of our King’s court for ransom."

Val’ha’s heart echoed with remorse for Porcie, and upon regrets and sadness expressed, the three sat in silence in the bright, ignorant room. "Feukpi’s troth Carla is under surveillance by trusted guard, and I ask you to join me to help save A’crasti, the King’s jester, the greatest performer of our lands; he was traveling back to the castle last night when he was captured, alone and unarmed. I am indebted to you for the chance you stayed with my mother, whom Feukpi may have harmed also had she been alone. The King’s woman outside will assist my mother to safety."

"What does Feukpi seek?" Val’ha asked.

By way of answer, Porcie placed his sword upon the table; it filled the breakfast chamber with the radiance of Terr’Sol itself. "This is Dervish, Sword of Gar, God of Jealousy and one of the Nine Swords of Ariadne. It is Dervish that Feukpi seeks, and though I know not how King Joel received the message, he and his wizard told to me upon the Night Moon that the damned conjurer killed my intended to show me his seriousness in obtaining the Sword." Porcie resheathed Dervish. "I am almost unable to bear this such is my heart’s burden, but upon my life Kayleen will be avenged."

Trisahn stood at the same moment as Val’ha; he said, "Porcie, by my wit and what skills we possess, we will join your posse."

The three gathered their belongings and left the Red Buck Inn without seeing Porcie’s mother. He gave them each a horse; Val’ha chose a light brown mount with care, for she had never sat upon such a creature, but it was like the others fully roped; when she rode it with a degree of assurance, Porcie briefly instructed her on the conduct of the saddle. He spoke to the King’s woman and she dismounted, entering the inn. Leaving one mare behind, they made north. "I have given to the guard to tell my mother of Feukpi’s danger, for her tears and preparation would slow our task and we must today fly," said Porcie.

The day was beginning, merchants opening their doors and Humans, Dwarves and some Short Elves in the streets and alleys with horses and wagons. The road toward the castle grew wide; as they left the city Mount Carias rose over the buildings. The land became low hills green with summer, scattered trees and the small farms similar to those Val’ha saw upon her entry into Moncrovia. Dervish was a gift from my father," said Porcie, "and few know that it is here in this land. It is a finder of metal, whether in mountains or through hills. Kayleen taught me to read Dervish’s stones and through her I learned the incantation that gives me as its bearer a cloak of invisibility."

"How did you obtain the Sword, friend?" asked Trisahn.

"Ariadne’s Sword was given to my father, Porcie the Elder, sixty years ago by Padora, the prior queen, upon her accession after he captained the army of King Joel II that led the defeat of the Outland invaders in the Great Battle. My father passed the Sword to me upon his death. I use it rarely – it stays in the keeping of the High Wizarder safe from those who would misuse its magic. But today it will see action, by oath of Gar and Ariadne – let Feukpi try to claim it!"

They galloped past farms replaced by white-stone huts that lay closer to the road, with few Humans, mostly children playing, outside. The huts were ordered and spaced, some with small gardens of flowers and foods, and trees of fruit, and chickens and dogs and cats. The hills grew steeper, and Val’ha could see less of the mountain with each passing moment. Terr’Sol shone overhead when the hills cleared and Castle Moncrovia appeared, its sentinel mountain rising green almost right behind it. Three massive white spires and myriad lesser ones arose from behind a white-stone wall that stretched almost beyond Val’ha’s sight. King’s men and women in the Blue Rose mail with spear, sword, horse and bow guarded the treeless expanse of the gate, ground and top of the wall and towers. Over the gate, the image of a great blue rose with an "I" at the center dominated. "Open!" yelled a King’s man upon their nearing. Porcie led, the guards pulling the vast doors open; Trisahn, Val’ha noticed, kept his head down, murmuring to himself with prayer and obscenity.

The outer wall was thick like a building, with doors inside its passage. When they reached the other side Val’ha marveled at the shining palace and its spires. The castle grounds were filled with terraced gardens and flowering vines large as small trees, and everywhere were roses – white and red, pink, orange and blue, as though the rainbows of the sky had fallen to grace Terra with every color of nature and some even that had never been seen.

The paths, white-stone in smooth patterns, branched from the gate into a circle around the front of Castle Moncrovia, with smaller ones leading left and right. On a large stone at the center of the circle and surrounded by the most dazzling of the rosebushes was etched the great blue flower Val’ha guessed now to be the mark of the King himself, and over the main palace doors, the word Insipirility in Elven lettering.

Humans in all shades of finery, some holding birds, ferrets, cats and other small animals, walked about smaller paths around the grounds while members of the Army of the Blue Rose stood guard or strode with intent, and buildings along the right and left walls Val’ha guessed to be housing and stables. The white outer wall itself rose high on all sides, spotted with windows and doors and upon which stood more of the King’s guards. When they reached one door in the housing, Val’ha’s eyes still dazzled by the reflection of Terr’Sol’s clear silver light as much with the motley roses, the three dismounted and attendants took their horses.

Porcie patted his mount. "Take your rest a moment, Desire, for we have unknown travels before us this day." To his companions he said, "Come, Trisahn, Val’ha to my quarters." He led them through a short hall to a large oak door. "As I am a King’s man but not yet a knight, I share my quarters with another who will join us. He is Thoryn, insipirile from the Republic of Azimq’haadrin, trained with me and my brother and friend during my years here."

Porcie and Thoryn’s quarters held two beds, table and chairs, larder and closed shelves, and coats of silver plating. Two shields and various weapons hung from the wall. A fat orange cat with green eyes and paws and undercoat of white reclined upon one of the beds. As they entered, a half-armored Man, her own age guessed Val’ha as she knew of Humans, with ebony skin and hair, rose from the edge of the other bed and came toward her.