The First Life of Tanan (9 page)

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

It was another week of hiking in the mountains before Soama led Tanan and Anin over the crest of a hill and they saw a beautiful green landscape laid out below them.

“Welcome to the Jesera Valley,” said Soama as Tanan stopped beside him.

Soama pointed out the enormous building halfway down the valley. “That is the Monastery of the Jeseran Abbots.  I trained here when I was a young man.  Your grandfather came here for his medical training when he was young.”

They walked down into the valley and Tanan took in the amazing view.  They were coming in on the East end of a valley that was surrounded by snow covered mountain peaks.  There was a long narrow lake that filled most of the left side of the valley.  The right side of the valley was a patchwork of cultivated fields.  Right in the middle of it all was the monastery, a marble structure that towered over all of the other buildings.  Log homes were scattered around the monastery and throughout the valley.  A network of stone paved roads and streets connected it all.  There were people working in fields and moving around the valley.  Jesera was a busy place.

The path they were on became a paved road when they got farther down into the valley.  As they got closer to the monastery, several Abbots recognized Soama and walked along with them.

Tanan was in awe of the monastery.  The buildings in Port Billen were mostly made of stone, but the stone that the monastery was built with was like nothing he had ever seen.  It was smooth and had been polished until it was as smooth as glass. Tanan couldn’t believe that stone could be stacked so high.

When they reached the building, Soama led them right inside. He told Anin and Tanan to wait, and then disappeared up a wide and grand staircase and out of sight.

Tanan looked around.  The room was so large that his whole house in Port Billen would have fit inside it.  He had never seen a ceiling so high either, and rather than the thatched roof he was used to, the ceilings here were made of the same smooth stone as the walls.  The walls were lined with soft couches, but Tanan was so dirty from weeks of travel that he didn’t dare sit down.

A few minutes later, Soama came back down the stairs with a very short man.  Soama was talking and the man was listening and nodding.  They came straight over to where Tanan was standing.

“Tanan,” said Soama, “I would like you to meet Figis, the Senior Abbot at Jesera.  Figis, this is Tanan.”

Figis gave Tanan a warm smile that instantly made Tanan like him.  “I am happy to meet you, Tanan.  Welcome to Jesera.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

It had been seven years since Dannap’s brother was murdered by the Lataki boy.  The years hadn’t diminished the anger he felt, but it had changed.  What had been a stabbing rage became an ever present hatred for the Lataki.

Dannap’s anger wormed its way in to everything he did, every decision he made.  It was a dull pain that, even during the happy moments, never truly went away.

He had issued kill orders for the Lataki and any traitor that aided him.  The Legion had killed the boy’s adopted grandfather, and the senile old Constable who attempted to prevent his men from dispensing justice.  A dozen men went to Port Billen with orders to kill anyone who had been involved.

There was a hefty bounty on the Lataki’s head, and the King’s Legion had been searching for seven long years without finding him.  Dannap was sure the little bastard and his father had escaped to the mainland where they were no doubt conspiring with the Lataki.

The very fact that a Lataki had been discovered on Komisan went against everything his ancestors had stood for.  It was a direct threat to Komisan and the Komisani people.  The murder of Kirkik was proof that the Lataki needed to be exterminated like the vermin they were.

For seven years, the Legion had been expanding.  When the news that a Legionnaire who had been tracking the Lataki had also been murdered, volunteers poured in.  The Komisani had always lived in fear that the Lataki would find them.  Now that the Lataki were infiltrating the island and killing Legionnaires, that fear turned to anger.

Dannap fanned the flames of his people’s anger into hate.  His army was ready, all he needed now was an excuse to launch an all out war.

The ranks of the King’s Legion had grown from about 300 men to more than 15,000.  Every able-bodied man and woman now had basic military training.  Every town and village, no matter how small, now had a Legion presence.  The perimeter of the island was patrolled, and a series of outposts were being built along the eastern coast.

Dannap had increased the activity of the Legion on the mainland as well.  His commanders had leeway when dealing with the Lataki.  Those commanders, hand picked by Dannap, had no sympathy for the Lataki.  Any tribe unlucky enough to encounter a Legion patrol was slaughtered.

Komisani society had fundamentally transformed.  The people of Komisan were ready.  Dannap would have his revenge.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

Abbot Gowrand had been a teacher at the Panna Abbey for fifteen years before the untrained novice Tanan killed the King’s brother.  People knew that most Abbots had at least some ability with magic. After what Tanan did, people became suspicious of magic.  Enrollment in his school had been dropping ever since and schools not run by Abbots were becoming more popular.

Gowrand could feel which way the wind was blowing.  The Komisani were rejecting the Abbots and their teachings.  They were moving toward war.  Unlike all the other Abbots, Gowrand was smart enough to realize what was happening and leave this island full of fools.

When Gowrand announced his intention to leave Komisan, the news had been a surprise to his brothers, but not entirely unwelcome. Gowrand was a famous egomaniac.  The other Abbots at the Panna Abbey had learned to tolerate Gowrand, but were not fond of the man.  The morning Gowrand had packed his things and made his intentions known, nobody was sad to see him go.

Gowrand walked across the island to Port Billen where he ignored all established protocols for Abbots leaving Komisan and simply hired a fisherman to transport him to the mainland.  He told the fisherman that he was going over to research the flora and fauna.  He was, in fact, traveling to Jesera where his considerable talents could be put to better use.

When the fisherman dropped him off on the beach, Gowrand gave the man the agreed upon amount of coin.  Then, realizing that he would have no further use for Komisani currency, simply dumped all of his coins into the man’s hand.  He walked up the beach and into the forest without bothering to thank the man. 

The stupid fisherman, Gowrand assumed, would spend the money in some tavern and wake up the next morning with nothing to show for his binge but an even duller mind than he currently had.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

Calid had been in the Legion for three years.  Like many of his friends, he joined right out of school.  After he’d completed his training, he had been assigned to the coveted beach patrol duty on the mainland.

His father was a carpenter and, expecting his son to go into the same line of work, taught Calid all he knew about the profession.  Even though Calid had opted for a career in the Legion, he put his knowledge to good use, building himself a crude but usable hut a hundred yards off the beach.

Calid was assigned to a ten mile stretch of beach.  After a month of endlessly walking from one end of his territory to the other, he had started spending time each day building and improving a shelter.

Six months later, he was spending his nights sleeping in a log hut with a thatched roof.  He wanted to add running water to his little home on the beach, he just needed to find the right kind of clay so he could construct an earthen water tank.

He was two miles south of the hut, digging a hole in search of that clay, when he heard someone walking through the woods.  His first thought was that it was a fellow Legionnaire and he was going to have to explain why he was standing in a four foot deep hole.  He ducked down and tried to prepare a plausible excuse.

It sounded like the interloper was only going to miss his hiding spot by about thirty yards.  Calid dared a peek over the edge of the hole.  Much to his amazement, it was an Abbot.  Calid almost called out, but thought better of it and just watched.  The Abbot was carrying a pack over one shoulder, which was very odd.

Why would an Abbot be walking through the woods on the mainland?  The only people who were supposed to be on the mainland were Legionnaires.  If the Abbot had a valid reason for being here, he should have at least had a Legion escort.

Calid climbed out of his hole and followed the Abbot, who was making so much noise that an entire company of Legionnaires could have been behind him and he wouldn’t have noticed.

The Abbot clearly had a destination, but there was no place in this part of the woods for anyone to go, much less an Abbot.  Calid knew his territory, and there was nothing in it other than trees, sand and his hut.  The only place anyone would want to go on the mainland was the outpost the Legion had built, and that was at least fifty miles south of Calid’s territory.

The proper thing to do would have been to stop the Abbot and question him, arrest him if necessary, and then bring him to the outpost.  But Calid was curious.  He had heard some fishy things about the Abbots.  Everyone knew that an Abbot had helped the Lataki murderer, Tanan, escape to the mainland.  Calid decided to follow the Abbot and see where he was going.

He had to go back to his hut and get his pack and some supplies.  Picking up the Abbot’s trail wouldn’t be a problem.  The man was leaving a clear path.  Calid jogged the two miles back to his hut, packed up his things and set out on the trail of the mysterious Abbot.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

Calid had been tracking the Abbot for weeks.  If this didn’t pay off, he was going to be in real trouble.  His commander must have noticed that he’d abandoned his post.  He was probably going to get kicked out of the Legion, or worse.

The Abbot walked from sunup to sundown and Calid was having a difficult time keeping up.  He was careful to stay far enough behind the man so that he wouldn’t be spotted, but he didn’t want to lose the trail.  He couldn’t afford to go back empty handed.

Calid had followed the Abbot across the mountains into Lataki territory and then north.  There was little danger of running into Lataki.  The Legion had slaughtered every Lataki tribe they could find within fifty miles of the mountains.  The bigger danger was that he would run into a Legion patrol and have to explain why he was so far from his post.  Then again, if he were to find a patrol, he could hand off pursuit of the Abbot and go back.  It was unlikely that any patrols would be this far north.

•        •        •

Calid didn’t know where the Abbot was going, but continued to follow him north day after day.  Another range of mountains appeared on the horizon and grew larger with each day’s travel.  The Abbot’s path took them into a wide valley.  Calid hoped the Abbot wouldn’t go into the mountains where it would be harder for him to follow the trail.

The immediate problem, however, was food.  Calid’s Legion rations were running low.  After the first few days, he decided to ration his food, which turned out to be a good decision.  Even with his rationing, he would soon be out of food.  The Abbot’s nonstop pace didn’t give Calid any time to set traps.  Even if he were able to trap a rabbit, he wouldn’t be able to build a fire and cook it, anyway.  He was able to supplement his supplies with root plants he’d learned about during his training.  He wished he had paid more attention to that training.

The Abbot was following a river and eventually that river led them into the mountains.  As Calid feared, the trail became harder to follow once the Abbot left the plains.  Calid had to slow down and watch closely for clues.  He followed a sparse trail of snapped branches, muddy smudges on rocks and the occasional smelly trail marker that the Abbot hadn’t taken time to bury.

A couple of times, Calid thought the trail was lost and had to double back and search for new clues.  After a week in the mountains, Calid admitted that he had completely lost the trail.  He knew the general direction that the Abbot had been heading, so he continued on, hoping that he might get lucky and find the trail again.

One morning, three days later, Calid climbed to the top of a rise and found himself looking down into a valley full of fields and buildings.  In the middle of the valley was a tower that made the royal palace in Panna look like his beach hut.  This was the Abbot’s destination.  Calid sat down with his back to a tree and cried with relief.  His gamble had paid off and he would be able to go home.

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

At the moment when Calid discovered the Jesera Valley, Tanan was on his hands and knees pulling weeds from the garden beside Soama’s house.  He spent several mornings each week working with Soama in the garden.  He found it relaxing.

In the years Tanan had been at Jesera, he had grown in several ways.  The wiry boy who had walked into Jesera was now a tall eighteen year old who had a better understanding of himself and the world around him. 

He was something of an anomaly at the monastery.  Not only was he the youngest student ever to study at Jesera, there had never been a student who was able to achieve a high level of competence in more than one of the five branches of magic.  Occasionally there were students with a small amount of skill in two areas, and a famous few that were able to muster up a small amount of skill in three kinds of magic. 

Tanan had not only shown ability in each of the four branches, he had actually achieved Master level in each one.

Soama was Tanan’s healing arts teacher.  He’d been a teacher at Jesera before going to Komisan and was happy to return to teaching.  Soama was well over one hundred years old, but had used his magic to slow the natural process of aging.  He slept only a few hours each night, devoting most of his sleep time to deep meditation and rejuvenation chants.  Because of this, he looked no older than a man of sixty, and had the energy of a man even younger than that.

Tanan was the best student Soama ever taught, and the two had formed a strong friendship.  Tanan looked up to Soama in the same way he had looked up to his grandfather.  Under Soama’s guidance, Tanan reached Master level in just five years, while also pursuing three other courses of study.

For his temporal arts studies, Tanan worked with Figis.  Tanan loved his hours with Figis, not only because the old Abbot was a great teacher, but because Figis was such a joyful person, and his happiness was infectious.  When Tanan arrived at Jesera, he was angry.  Figis, as the senior Abbot at Jesera, didn’t usually take students.  He made an exception for Tanan.  Figis insisted that Tanan meet him each morning before sunrise for several hours of meditation.

At first, Tanan hated getting up so early.  As he got to know Figis, he looked forward to their morning meditations.  By the end of his first year at the monastery he was able to sit and meditate alongside Figis for several hours.  Meditation always left Tanan feeling refreshed and relaxed.  When he asked Figis if this was an effect of magic, the Abbot simply laughed his joyful laugh and said, “Meditation is powerful, but it is not magic.”

Tanan attended a daily Protective Magic class, which was taught by a variety of instructors throughout the years.  There were a few students of the protective arts.  It was the only lesson he took with other students.  He enjoyed it because he was much younger than the other students, and his classmates treated him like a younger brother.  He enjoyed the companionship of the older boys so much that even though he could have advanced in the class very quickly, he kept the same pace so he could continue to study with them.  He waited to take his Mastery exam at the same time as the others.

There was no Master of elemental magic at Jesera, and he was the only student of the subject, so his only resource was the great library in the tower.  Because he understood the mechanics of magic from his other studies he was able to learn most of the things he read about in the books.  When he turned eighteen, he had the opportunity to present what he had learned to a panel of Abbots selected by Figis.  Tanan was able to demonstrate enough knowledge and skill that they awarded him the Master title in that discipline.

Anin took root at Jesera as well. The academic atmosphere was a good fit for his approach to the science of medicine.  He kept an expansive garden of medicinal plants and spent most of his time working to develop new and better medicines. He and Tanan lived in a comfortable log house on the grounds of the monastery, not far from Soama’s home.

The population of the Jesera Valley fluctuated as Abbots came and went, but there were usually around 350 people at any time.  When Tanan was twelve, he spent two days counting all the animals in the valley.  He counted 18 cows, 32 goats, 46 sheep, and 59 chickens.  There was also an ever changing and uncountable population of cats, including Leeka, who arrived a month after Tanan.

There was a small population of farmers and tradesmen who also lived in the valley.  There was no separation between any of the people.  It wasn’t unusual to see an Abbot working alongside the blacksmith or a farmer sitting with a group of Abbots who were learning about stamina incantations.

Though Tanan had always loved Port Billen, he had grown to love his life at Jesera even more.