Seers of Verde: The Legend Fulfilled: Book One (20 page)

17

“Don't be nervous, don't be nervous,” Rajeev Nezdan whispered to himself as he paced back and forth in a large hallway. He stopped momentarily in front of two closed giant wooden doors to mop sweat from his brow with a sleeve.

Looking at his companion, Rajeev tried to feign confidence, which had fled him ever since they entered the Hall of Justice. The professor of ancient languages had never visited this most respected building in Verde City, much less argued a case, which he was about to attempt.

Juban Caleria smiled at his new Verdan friend. He did not quite understand what Rajeev had in mind, but the Nuven trusted this eccentric little man. Something important was going to happen behind those doors. When Rajeev asked for Juban's assistance, the young man agreed, sensing the adventure may help him and his fellow Nuvens' plight.

Rajeev jumped as a latch clanged. The two giant doors swung open, revealing a well-lit but small auditorium. A formally dressed bald man somberly gestured for Rajeev and Juban to enter and follow him.

The two men were led to straight-back chairs in the center opening of a U-shaped table filled with distinguished-looking men and women. Juban looked around curiously. This room was similar to the council chambers in Fortress Bryann, but he sensed no animosity from the people looking back at him.

A small woman with flowing gray hair arose from the outside center of the table. She gestured for Rajeev and Juban to approach.

“Rajeev Nezdan, this is the first time in Verdan history that a professor of the School of Ancient Languages has requested an emergency meeting of the Assembly,” she said, smiling. “I must admit, my fellow members and I are intrigued. However, you failed to identify your companion. This is most unusual.”

Comforted by her words, Rajeev took a trembling breath. “I thank you for granting a hearing. Forgive me. I am no orator, but only a mere researcher who is more content in the company of scrolls than people.”

Turning to Juban, Rajeev managed a smile as he patted the youth's shoulder. “Before I introduce my friend, I must know if the truth-sayer is here. It is important that my, er, our testimony be validated.”

A somber-looking young woman silently left her seat at one end of the table and walked toward the two men. She was dressed in a simple gray gown. A long braid of red hair was wrapped neatly around her head.

Not knowing or caring about this foreign etiquette, Juban grasped Rajeev by the arm. “That woman looks like others in the fortress,” he managed to say in broken Verdan. “I no trust, what you call, ah, Seer.”

Gasps of surprise escaped from several of the seated Verdans, who had never heard their language spoken with such a strange accent. Sensing Juban's concern, Rajeev forgot about his nervousness.

“No, no, my friend, this woman is no Seer. She is here to help,” he said, measuring his words slowly to help Juban translate. “You must trust me. Let her touch you when you speak.”

The truth-sayer stood before Juban. She looked curiously at the youth, then turned to Rajeev. “He speaks in a strange tongue. Does he understand what we say?”

Rajeev shrugged. “He understands some words, but not all.” The truth-sayer nodded, but appeared not be surprised. The other Verdans sat in stunned silence. She smiled at the professor and asked him to translate.

“Many years ago, a young girl was born to the Seers. She did not share their mysterious ability, but Mother Verde blessed her with a special gift, that of truth-saying. As the young girl grew, her gift became valuable to the people of Verde. She was able to help in disputes. The Seers allowed her to leave because she was not one of them, but the Verdans honored her and she thrived. She was my ancestor.”

The truth-sayer smiled. “We share the red hair with the Seers, but little else.” After hearing Rajeev's slow translation, Juban nodded his approval.

Turning back to the table, Rajeev cleared his throat, reached out to the young woman and let her grasp his hand. A strange feeling of purpose filled him. This was the moment he had spent his life preparing for.

“Honored members of the Assembly, it is my privilege to introduce Juban Caleria of what they call the Nuven Valley. He and others have survived a dangerous journey over Mt. Kiken to find us. They are the children of the lost ones.”

The seated Verdans erupted in shouts of surprise, which were quickly quieted by the gray-haired woman who pounded the table with a large gavel. She eyed the truth-sayer, who still held Rajeev's hand.

“Judge Soretti, this man believes he is telling the truth,” the truth-sayer said showing no emotion. She then stepped around Rajeev and held out her hand to Juban.

Encouraged by the professor, Juban reluctantly took the strange woman's hand. Making such informal contact with a stranger was foreign in Nuven culture. Instead of recoiling at her touch, he found it to be warm and comforting.

“My friend speaks the truth, honored ones,” Juban said in his native tongue, then waited for Rajeev to translate. Encouraged by a few smiles from those seated, he continued.

“Three weeks ago, eleven of us left the Nuven Valley in an attempt to climb the mountain we call Barrasca. My people have been trying to find a passage here for two hundred harvests. Many have died trying, but we are the first to find you,” he said, flashing a proud smile.

After Rajeev translated again, the truth-sayer nodded slightly and confirmed both men were telling the truth. Then in a rare show of emotion, she knelt and kissed Juban's hand. “You and the others have overcome many obstacles to reach Verde Valley — many more dangers than most of us can even imagine,” she said.

Blushing with embarrassment, Juban shrugged and gently helped the truth-sayer to her feet. “It is with great pleasure I greet you, my cousin,” he said in Verdan, stealing a quick glance at Rajeev, who nodded approvingly.

With tears welling in her eyes, Judge Soretti asked Rajeev what would be a proper Nuven greeting. The professor beamed as he demonstrated, holding up his open hands at shoulder height.

“This gesture signifies you are unarmed and mean him no harm,” he explained. Silently, each Verdan judge stood and greeted Juban, who smiled and responded in like manner.

“This is a great honor you have bestowed upon us, but why did you call for this emergency meeting?” Judge Soretti asked. “Such an august occasion certainly merits a formal greeting by Verdan officials.”

Rajeev sighed and nodded. “I pray that it would be that simple, but a terrible misunderstanding has developed between the Nuvens and the Seers.”

Judge Soretti sat up rigidly, the smile melted from her face. “A misunderstanding with the Seers; how so?”

Rajeev gestured for Juban to show the judges Darya's chronological drawings of the Nuvens' journey, including the fight at the grove where fifteen Tarylan troopers were killed.

After several minutes of carefully studying the drawings, Judge Soretti called for order. “How did this happen? Why did the Tarylans attack them?”

Rajeev shook his head. “Apparently the Tarylans mistook the Nuvens for intruders, possibly Tanlians, those marauders who attacked the first colonists all those years ago. Juban and his people swear they are telling the truth. Why would they carry a wounded trooper for a day to find help for him and then stay and make contact with my cousin's village?”

He then told the judges of the unsuccessful attempt to plead the Nuvens' case before the High Seer.

“I find it troubling the Seers and their Tarylan guards consider the Nuvens dangerous,” Judge Soretti said. “I fear we can do little to help.”

Juban had been following the conversation the best he could. He did not fully understand everything that was said, but he sensed it was not going well. “With all due respect, the one dream my people have fostered for generations is to reach this valley,” he said, clutching the truth-sayer's hand.

Juban took his time to look each judge in the eye. The Nuven knew this was a rare opportunity to argue his people's cause, and he was determined to succeed. Juban may not have been the strongest warrior, but he was descended from a long line of superb storytellers. He stopped often to let Rajeev catch up with the translation.

“We have endured terrible attacks from Tanlians. Men, women, and children have died over many harvests, but we have survived. I do not know why these terrible things have not befallen you, but I swear by my ancestors this is true.”

Rajeev held up his hand for Juban to stop for a moment. As best he could, the professor explained the Nuvens' ancestor worship. “When a Nuven swears by his ancestors, this is as holy a pledge as appealing to Mother Verde. They consider their dead ancestors holy because without their heroic efforts to fight for their survival, the Nuven people would have perished.”

With tears running down his cheeks, Juban knelt before Judge Soretti and held out his hand. She clasped it gently. “I implore you honored ones to help my people,” he said, choking with emotion. “Thousands of my people have been waiting all their lives to join you in this wonderful valley. Have we not sacrificed enough?”

Rajeev dabbed his eyes and translated in a faltering voice. When he finished, the truth-sayer stood before the judges with both hands over her heart.

“This Nuven is speaking the truth. I will inform my fellow sisters of this momentous event. It appears the prophecy has come true. We will argue the Nuvens' case with the Seers, if you request it.”

Judge Soretti shrugged. “I wish we could help, but the Seers have the Tarylan guards.”

A tall, sandy-haired man in a dark blue uniform stoop up. “That is true, Judge Soretti, but as commander of the Verdan Enforcers, we may be able to provide a stalemate to the Tarylan guards. Many of my men may relish the opportunity to offer protection to the Nuvens and their Verdan sympathizers. Our domestic protection forces have been bullied too often by these elite troops. Besides, my enforcers number in the hundreds, far more than the Tarylans.”

Judge Soretti tapped her gavel. “The Assembly will meet and discuss this. You present us with a great many problems to resolve.”

In a rare gesture, she reached out and touched Juban's cheek. “Whatever happens, my young friend, may Holy Mother Verde and your ancestors protect you and your people.”

18

Wojaht Gafla fumed as he stalked through the encampment of his Tarylans after second meal. Every few seconds, he barked at squads to clean up their tents or singled out a trooper for being sloppily dressed.

The Tarlyn captain was furious his plans to attack the Verdan village, which sheltered the murderous intruders and traitorous Verdans, had been delayed. He and his men had been prepared to march and engage in battle, but they had been ordered to wait.

At dawn the day before, he received a communique from High Seer Yseni that she and other select Seers wished to observe the elimination of the intruders and orchestrate arrests of Verdans where necessary.

A shout from behind him drew his attention. Wojaht whirled to see what the commotion was about. “Captain Gafla, sir, the Seers have arrived,” said a breathless Lt. Uson Stadova as he sprinted up to his superior officer and saluted.

“About time they honored us with their presence,” Wojaht snarled. His heart was racing in anticipation of this dangerous mission, and these women were slowing him down. “Stadova, alert the other lieutenants. Tell them to have their men ready to march within the hour. Let's get this mission under way.”

All the way back to his tent, Wojaht shouted commands for his troops to be armed and ready. Half the encampment was preparing to march before the other junior officers received their orders.

Out of the corner of his eye, Wojaht watched as the delegation of Seers was escorted to his tent. Ignoring the women momentarily, he continued talking to a group of lieutenants until he was satisfied they understood his orders.

“High Seer, I trust you are well,” the captain said nodding brusquely, far different from his usual ceremonial bow from the waist. “My men will be ready within the hour. You and the other Seers should take positions behind the strike force for your protection. Lieutenant, please escort our guests to a place of safety,” he said to Uson who had just scurried over.

Without waiting for her reply or dismissal, he nodded again and disappeared into his tent to prepare for the march, leaving a very nervous Uson to face the Seers alone. Yseni stood with a look of shock. She had been expecting the captain's usual groveling, but being treated with such disrespect unnerved her.

Zasha touched the High Seer's shoulder. “Ah, so now we see the mood of our troops before they go into battle. He and the others are anxious to engage the enemy. Can you blame them?”

Yseni frowned, but nodded in agreement. “You may escort us to our positions,” she said coldly to Uson, who bowed so deeply his nose almost touched his boots.

After a hard two-hour ride at full gallop, Wojaht and his men pulled to within sight of Osmar Nezdan's village. The captain signaled for the troop to stop and rest. While the captain was taking a long gulp of water, a worried-looking Uson approached with the three scouts who had been watching the village for the past two days.

“Yes, Lieutenant, what have our scouts found? Are the intruders still in the village?” Wojaht asked while wiping his mouth across his sleeve.

Uson cleared his throat. “Ah, Captain, it seems the population of the village seems to have at least doubled. The scouts report many riders have arrived within the past two days. With all the commotion they cannot tell if the intruders are still in the village.”

Wojaht shook his head in disbelief and pointed at one of the scouts. “Are you saying the village has received reinforcements? From where? Who are they?”

The scout saluted. “Sir, it appears many of the riders are Enforcers by their uniforms. They have taken up positions around the village.”

The captain stared in disbelief at what he just heard. “Enforcers in the village? Why would they be here?” Wojaht shouted, his face flushing with anger. This was an unbelievable revelation. Enforcers had never challenged Tarylan guards in carrying out their duties.

Only in a rare instance would an Enforcer confront a Tarylan guard, such as in a drunken brawl where Verdan citizens were injured or property was damaged.

“Renegades. That's it. They must be renegades,” Wojaht said. “Someone in the village must be related to a few officers or bribed them.” Turning to Uson, the captain ordered him to find out who was leading the enforcers.

The lieutenant shook his head. “No need, sir, we already know. Commander Kaj Striff is in charge.”

Wojaht stood dumbfounded with his mouth open. “Are you telling me the commander of the entire Verdan Enforcer division is leading those traitors?” he hissed.

The veins in the captain's neck bulged ominously, looking like they would explode at any moment. “Striff, eh? I might have known he would turn traitor. He's taken every opportunity to challenge Tarylan jurisdiction since he was appointed commander.”

Wojaht remembered with irritation the arrest of two Tarylans — Eret Drumlin and Yev Serrat — who had raped an innkeeper's daughter. Striff had led the investigation and arrest of the two men.

The Tarylans were tried and sentenced to death by civil Verdan court. Only a reprieve by the Seers carried out by Capt. Agusto Harn had spared the two men. For some reason unknown to Wojaht, his fellow captain had requested the killers for Harn's now ill-fated mission.

When Striff had discovered the reprieve, he had lodged a formal complaint, with the blessing of a Verdan Councilliary, to the Seers. Of course the High Council of Seers had rejected the commander's complaint and reprimanded him and the Assembly for challenging their ruling.

“Mother Verde, is Striff trying to take vengeance for being humiliated in public?” Wojaht muttered. “What a fool. The commander now will have more to contend with than being embarrassed.”

Now that he had time to assess the situation, the captain flashed a sly smile. “Lt. Stadova, please inform the High Seer and her companions that their assistance is needed with a problem.”

Within a few minutes, Yseni and Zasha listened with disbelief as Wojaht explained the situation with the village. “They are all traitors. Can't you just attack and wipe them out?” Yseni demanded.

The captain threw up his arms. “If it were that simple, yes, High Seer. But we seem to be outnumbered now, counting the Enforcers, intruders, and who knows how many villagers will offer resistance.”

Yseni turned to Zasha, who for once only shook her head in disbelief. She whirled around and addressed her officer. “You are the military leader here, Captain. Do you have any suggestions?”

Wojaht smiled. “Yes, I do High Seer. I think we should request a truce to speak with Commander Striff and even the village leaders.”

Yseni frowned. “What would that accomplish?”

The captain's laughter startled Yseni and Zasha, who exchanged nervous glances. “With all due respect, High Seer, you seem to have forgotten your influence on these simple Verdans. A severe reprimand on your part or threat of extraordinary punishment may drive a wedge between these factions.”

Yseni smiled and was about to speak when another scout sprinted into their midst and conferred with Lt. Stadova.

“Well, what is it?” Wojaht demanded.

Per protocol, Uson bowed to the Seers then saluted his captain. “Sir, Commander Striff and the village elders have requested a truce. They are willing to meet immediately.”

Wojaht slapped his side, grinning widely. “Ha, the cowards are already prepared to beg for their lives.” With the High Seer's approval, the captain ordered Uson to arrange the meeting.