Mortals & Deities (4 page)

Arderi Cor looked up into the bright blue eyes of Rinear, her golden blond hair cascading down to cover her shoulders, and smiled. At least he hoped it was a smile and not a foolish-looking grin. Her smooth, almost bone-white skin stood out in stark contrast to her ruby-red lips. Taking the steaming bowl of stew from her, he broke eye contact. “Thank you.” His face reddened when she giggled. With a coy look, she turned away and retreated from the table.

“It is so rare for us to have guests, please forgive Rinear.” The older man sitting across from Arderi blew on a spoonful of stew before putting it into his mouth.

Arderi’s gaze lingered after the girl until she disappeared through the door that led to the kitchen. “There is nothing to forgive, Master Rine, she is—” He cleared his throat and attacked his stew. Though it burned his mouth, he gulped it down as fast as he could shovel it in.

Larith Rine reached out and placed his hand over Arderi’s. “Slow down, Brother. The hunger you feel is caused by the Traveling. It will pass. Yet, there is no need to scorch yourself. There is plenty more stew.”

Forcing himself to slow, Arderi followed Larith’s example and blew on his next spoonful to cool it some before devouring it. He had never been so hungry. Whatever Ragnor had done to him in the Undercity of Mocley had left a hole in his belly. “Where is this place?”

“Bin’Satsu is an ancient and forgotten Citadel lost amongst the Tandeba Mountains.” At Arderi’s puzzled look, Larith smiled. “Brother, you are thousands of leagues from home. Bin’Satsu is located in the northron part of Silaway.”

Astonishment filled Arderi. “How…How can that be?”

“The Sending Stone. That is what you used in Mocley. You
Traveled
here.” Raising a hand to forestall Arderi’s response, Larith continued. “Listen, Brother. I do not know your tale, yet it is obvious you have not had the training you require. Unfortunately, there is no time. A Mah’Sukai walks the Plane of Talic’Nauth once more, and all effort must go toward finding and killing him.” He looked down into his bowl. “Before it is too late.”

A drop of hot stew dripped onto Arderi’s thigh and he realized that he held his spoon halfway between his mouth and the bowl. With his stomach still feeling like it ate itself, he shoved the stew into his mouth to give himself time to think. Why did Ragnor send him here, so far from everything he knew? How could he travel so far without any of the actual traveling that accompanied it? Instead of getting answers to the many questions that filled his head, coming here had only added more.

Setting his spoon in the bowl, Arderi leaned toward his host. “And what is to become of me?” The sudden realization of the full depth of his question struck, and he was not sure he wanted an answer.

Clytus said that I might be killed even if I took his oath—that he may be condemning me to death, no matter my choice. What if they decide it is easier to kill me instead of training me?

His heart raced and he pulled away from the table. The man sitting before him, jet-black hair pulled into a tight braid dropping over one shoulder, piercing gray-blue eyes seeming able to drag out every hidden secret from anyone they looked at, had not changed his expression. Although, an air of sudden violence now shrouded the man. “Do not fear, Brother. You will have your answers. Even in your untrained state, you hold great potential. Of that, I am certain. This is the time when that potential will be needed. My brother should return soon. When he does, he and I shall discuss what will become of you.”

“What will become of me?” Arderi did not like the sound of that.

Master Rine returned to his stew. “We no longer have a Brother of the Order in Mocley. Ragnor De’haln is a good man, as are the other few agents we have in that city. However, we cannot risk letting the Mah’Sukai slip between our fingers should he pass through there. If you can endure it, I would like for you to be trained in the basics, then return to Mocley with all haste. Though Ragnor does not hold the power of the Sujen, he has been with Clytus—” He paused, a look of grief passing over him. “
Was
with Clytus for a long time. He cannot teach you of Sujen. Still, he knows much of what you need to learn about the Order, and will be able to instruct you how to use Dorochi without hurting yourself. Once the issue of the Mah’Sukai has been handled, you may return here to complete your training.”

Glancing at the sword that leaned against the bench next to him, Arderi thought of the man who gave it to him, and his short time with Clytus’ large black servant, Ragnor. The conversational tone that Master Rine took set Arderi’s mind at ease—at least a bit. Releasing the tension that gripped his shoulders, he too resumed eating. “Sir, what is this Mah’Sukai? I have never heard of such a beast.”

A forced laugh came from Master Rine. “A Mah’Sukai is no beast. He is a man—or a woman, though I am certain this one is a man. He wields more power than anyone should possess.” He set his spoon into his empty bowl. “How much do you know of the Essence?”

Scraping the last remnants of stew from the bottom of his bowl, Arderi cast his gaze at the kitchen door—his stomach still felt hollow—before looking back at Larith. “As much as anyone, I guess.” When Master Rine did not respond, Arderi continued. “The Essence is in all things. Shapers have the ability to manipulate it somehow, to change the state of an object.”

The door to the kitchen swung open and Rinear came out holding another bowl of stew and a platter of bread. Arderi took a small roll from the plate and broke it in half before Rinear had a chance to set it on the table. Steam rose from the still warm bread, and he smelled a hint of honey. When his stomach rumbled, Rinear giggled. Biting into the bread, he attempted to hide his embarrassment. As she took his empty bowl, he looked up. Gazing into his eyes, her grin still on her lips, she winked. When he blushed, she turned and headed back to the kitchen, leaving Arderi shifting under the piercing eyes of Larith. The man nodded as if he had decided something, and Arderi struggled to swallow the bite of bread in his mouth.

Reaching out, Master Rine took a roll for himself, though he did not eat it. “Tell me of your time with Brother Rillion.”

As much as Arderi did not want to bring up those memories, he felt Master Rine deserved to know the story. So he told it, much like he did when he had told his parents and the others of his home stead. Though, this time he left nothing out. For some reason, once the story was done, he felt better.

During the tale, Larith ate the first roll, followed by a second. He had not interrupted; simply nodded now and again. When Arderi finished both his story and his meal, the older man pushed all the dishes to the far side of the table and leaned on his elbows, holding Arderi in his gaze. “I agree with Brother Rillion—he should not have bound you to Ka’gana until you had proven yourself. Caution is the one reason our Order has survived all these many turns of the seasons.”

“Caution!” A booming voice echoed through the dining hall, causing Arderi to jump. A tall, broad shouldered, yellow-haired man strolled through the main doors of the dining hall. “This Order of yours has survived by hiding, you mean!” The hawk-nosed man wore a strange outfit, like a many-layered robe slit into strips from just below his shoulders to the bottom of the garment. If it had not been so finely decorated with embroidery down the strips of cloth, Arderi would have thought the man wore rags sewn together. A snow-white backpack sat on his shoulders, peeking out just over his head. “Hiding since the last War of Power!” The tall man’s laugh filled the hall as he looked down at Larith. Now that he stood closer, Arderi saw that whatever rested on his shoulders was no pack. Covered with white feathers, it looked like he wore some sort of ceremonial item strapped to his back.

Larith closed his eyes and shook his head from side to side. “Arderi Cor, meet an overly flamboyant Saven.”

Arderi brushed off the front of his tunic, stood, and held out his hand. He jumped back when the feathers on the man’s back twitched!

“Well met, young Cor.” Saven, seeming unaware of Arderi’s shock, took his offered hand, nearly pulling him across the wooden table. He gave Arderi a mischievous wink. “Or are you one of Larith’s…Brothers?” When Arderi glanced at Master Rine out of the corner of his eye, Saven let out his big boom of a laugh and released Arderi’s hand. “Say no more! Your silent tongue screams Tat’Sujen.” Still laughing, he slid onto the bench next to Larith and snatched up the last roll from the platter. “I am famished.” Turning his head, he cupped a hand beside his mouth. “Rinear! Bring out some of that food I smell, girl!”

Standing over Saven, Arderi could now see more of the man’s back. He let out a gasp of surprise. “You have wings!”

Looking Arderi square in the eyes, Saven smiled and flexed his back. Two massive white wings unfurled from the strips of cloth that formed his robe. They stretched out to his sides, reaching twice as wide as the man was tall, fluttered, then disappeared once more under his robe. “Aye, lad. It seems that I do, at that.” Again, his big booming laugh filled the hall.

The door to the kitchen slammed open and Rinear came out carrying yet another tray of rolls and bowl of stew. “This is no common tavern and I no serving wench!” Though her words sounded harsh as she crossed to the table, she gave Saven a warm smile. Plopping her burdens of food in front of him, she collected the dirty dishes and headed back to the kitchen.

Saven dug into his meal with the same zeal as had Arderi. Pointing his spoon at Arderi between mouthfuls, the big blond man grinned. “Came by way of the Sending Stone, I presume?”

“Aye, sir. I—” Feeling foolish still standing—Larith seemed unconcerned that a man with wings had joined them—Arderi returned to his seat.

“I, myself, will not use the damnable things. At least not until they work properly once more!” The large winged man shoveled another spoonful of stew into his mouth.

A tremor ran through Arderi that had nothing to do with the shock of what he had just seen. “Working properly?” He glanced at Larith. “What does he mean?”

Before Larith could answer, Saven laughed. “I assume the experience was a bit…painful?”

The memory of having each of his bones snap while he lay writhing on the floor still prowled the back of Arderi’s mind. “Aye, it was at that.” Without realizing it, he rubbed his hands over his arms.

“Do not fret, Brother.” Larith held Arderi’s eyes as he stood. “Painful, the Sending Stones may be, at least until the Essence attains more power, yet they are safe enough. Come.” He motioned for Arderi to follow. “Walk with me. Let me show you to your room.” Cutting his eyes to Saven, Larith now held a look of dissatisfaction. “Besides, I find that the company has dampened my appetite.”

Rising to his feet once more, Arderi retrieved Clytus’ old sword, Dorochi, and strapped it around his waist. Hesitating for a moment, he held out a hand. “Well met, Mir’am Saven.”

The blond-haired man did not look up from his stew, though he wore a look of disdain upon his features since Larith’s last comment. “It is just Saven, boy. Just Saven.” When the man said no more nor made a move to take his hand, Arderi lowered his arm. Rounding the table, he followed Larith out of the dining hall.

For being such a large Citadel, Arderi noticed that Bin’Satsu held little in the way of decorations. Though wide, the halls sat bare of carpets and wall hangings. The occasional vase or bust could be seen, yet they were few and far between. No people walked the halls either and the silence of his companion also added to Arderi’s unease. “For such a large place, not many people live here.”

Arderi’s sudden words startled Larith out of his thoughts. “Aye. Bin’Satsu was once a thriving place. Yet, that was long ago. A mere handful live here now.”

The two turned into a side hallway and exited the building through a large set of arched double-doors. The view took Arderi’s breath away. He saw the tops of mountains poking through the cloud cover that lay well below them. The crisp, clear air ruffled Larith’s robes with a slight breeze. Larith led him on in silence to a stone patio that pressed out over the side of the plateau. Stone planters filled with dirt and the odd dead twig, sat between worn and aged benches that looked as if they would crumble if sat upon. The only life evident here was a few ragged weeds that had taken root in cracks between the paverstones that littered the area.

Leaning against the marble railing, Larith drew in a deep breath. “Bin’Satsu was once the crown jewel of an empire that covered not only Silaway and Ro’Arith, yet also Latore to the west and Kisu far to the south. Almost the entire Plane of Talic’Nauth bent knee to the Oash’ado.”

“Oash’ado?” Arderi had never heard that term.

“It means ‘Father’ in what you people refer to as the Old Tongue. It is a title still used by the King of the Mu’shadar in southron Silaway. Yet, his power pales in comparison to what once was.” Moving to one of the benches, Larith sat. “The might of the Renkujie Empire covered nearly the entire Plane of Talic’Nauth.”

Something in his tone bothered Arderi. “You speak as if you were there.”