Chapter 4

Chapter

Four

TAMAS

The chill froze not only the air but also all sounds in the forest, amplifying the clomp of our horses' hooves into a thunderous echo. Dense fog clung to our cloaks, hiding our path. Fortunately, Romelda could tread this path on a moonless night, or we would have wandered lost through the undergrowth for days.

Augurs, those who communed with the unseen, preferred deep wilderness, far removed from human habitation. The wanderings of their minds drove them to a solitary, nomadic life. As the south was densely populated, augurs rarely ventured beyond the Ashenlands. At their worst, fits of paranoia sent them scampering to the distant regions of the north, where they would bury themselves away. As it was, we found ourselves far off the normal trails, tramping a path of our making.

This particular augur was one Romelda greatly favored, regularly tracking his random journeys. I once thought she acted out of emotion, not gain, but time showed me otherwise.

Garrat dozed beside me, having spent the night in the company of a handful of maidens, if I was to believe his story. On the other side of me, Osmud munched on some dried deer while droplets of moisture clung to the fur of his hood and hung like decoration around his face. We all rode huddled under our cloaks, breathing mist through our mouths, and choosing not to speak too much as the ice wind burned down into our lungs.

"Will we reach him by nightfall?" Osmud asked, still munching on his meat.

"Four days she promised. Today marks the fourth," I replied.

Although Garrat was no stranger to time in the saddle, he didn't much like our destination. All that travel to hear the crazy mumblings of the insane was his response to this journey. I had said nothing to counter his grumbling as I had thought the same.

Ahead, Romelda's horse whinnied. The sudden panicked sound rippled a quiver through my horse's flanks. He raised his head and chomped at his bit as Osmud's mount shied into his rump.

"Steady, girl," Osmud crooned, patting her withers. "There's nothing beyond this fog to fear but rodents."

All the same, he glanced into the bone-white mist. There was no hope of penetrating the veil to see what prowled close on our tail. Romelda's horse stomped on the spot, as Osmud's horse attempted to slip from his hold, prancing sideways and squeezing my leg between their hot flanks.

The mist swirled around us. From disturbance or wind? It was hard to tell. Prickles itched across my back, and I tightened my hold on my reins. The horses sensed it first, but now the unease of being watched danced across my skin, and a yearning thrummed through my veins, a primal call thick in my head.

"Halt," I announced.

At the same moment, Romelda's mount reared, but she held her seat. I heard her mumbling and knew she was calling up some spell to make visible whatever was using the fog as its veil, or perhaps to bind it in place.

"Wait."

She looked over her shoulder, her mouth set in a line, the tension from holding back whatever incantation she had begun. I swear her red eyes glowed like an animal in the night.

I slid from my horse and handed Garrat the reins. "I feel nothing," was his answer.

"The call is not for you, brother."

"Don't let this delay be for long," Romelda warned. "As it is, we shall reach the cavern by nightfall."

At that, Garrat's stomach grumbled.

I nodded to Romelda, then left them and headed out into the fog. I wove a slow path as the mist clung to the trees and every obstacle that would trip me. But I didn't have to go far before the mist danced in violent swirls, then parted like a curtain to reveal a massive bear-like beast looming over me. Its brown pelt flowed with striations of rich gold. Around its face, sprouts of gray grew thicker with each passing decade. Once its green eyes glowed with menace, they were now dulled and partially covered with the encroaching milky white of blindness.

"Igthredia, old friend. You've traveled far."

The beast lowered from its hunches and prowled closer. I held out my hand as a greeting, taking the butt of its wet nose as the warm welcome it was.

Its body shimmered as it loosened its hold on its animalic form, flowing and merging into the frightful contortion of a man-beast. Huungardred were not true shape-shifters; they couldn't take on the full physique of a human. One half was distinctly human, while the other was a contorted amalgamation of human and beast.

He heaved himself down on the ground with some creaks and a groan and nudged his head to welcome me to sit beside him. I nestled myself on a log so that my head reached his middle.

"I lumbered long to Ironhelm, only to hear you ventured west."

A heavy, craggy brow overhung his eyes, setting them deep into his face. The left side remained in its human-beast form, covered with thick, coarse hair. His snout had flattened, and his thick, dark lips were drawn back in what seemed like a permanent snarl, exposing long, pointed teeth. It made conversation awkward, but I understood all the same.

"I'm sorry you had to make the extra journey."

"I needed the exercise. Lazy I've become, and the years keep passing me by."

On the left side of his body, at the tips of his massive, hairy hand, black claws curled downward like deer antlers. I waited to hear his reason for hunting me down, while Romelda's impatience drummed at the back of my mind.

"I'm here for Thaindrus."

The thread of alarm itched the back of my neck. "Is Thaindrus alright? I sent a rider four days ago but had to leave before his return."

"Thaindrus is old, my friend. He fares little better than me, and I feel the aches each morning when I wake. He longs to see you."

I nodded, feeling a heavy weight lodge itself on my heart. It was the heavy sadness the living endured when loved ones crossed into the death realm.

"When my duty here is done, I shall head north to Thaindrus's court."

"You're traveling with the Nazeen."

I nodded.

"Prepare, dear friend, for the augur's ramblings may lead you on a twisted path."

"That's one of my concerns. But I trust Romelda. She believes him."

"Yes. The Nazeen carries a great deal of fear. And a great deal of promise. Your path is not that of the Huungardred. But you are still of our blood, and I would caution you, young Tamas. You are but an infant in our eyes."

"But not so in the eyes of man. And unfortunately, it is within that world I must make my mark."

"That I understand. But the Nazeen guides you toward a dark path. Many falter on such a path. Many lose grip on who they are."

"I fear it's the only one I can take, and I'm the only one who can take it. I can't hide here in the north any longer. It's in here…" I patted my chest over my heart. "I feel it. Romelda's right. The Etherweave is calling me."

"There is no doubt within my heart that you are a king. But are you ready to take your place? It is more than sitting on a throne that makes you a king. As it is more than wielding power that makes you strong."

I huffed a laugh I didn't feel. "Am I ready? I cannot say. Do I have to be ready? Yes. The House of Tannard must not claim the Etherweave."

"Always remember, Tamas, their blood is also yours, as are their fragilities, and so too could be their sins."

How could I ever forget?

"It's well that my blood is also yours, that of the Huungardred. Your bloodline shall be my strength and keep me honest."

"Then the fates of the seven realms are safe." Igthredia snorted as he barked a hard, quick snap of a laugh before dropping his smile. "Our bloodline stretches far deeper than the coming of man to this realm. Our ancestral lore speaks of the great wrong committed by the first weavers in bringing the Etherweave forth. It is not a power that was ever meant to be in this realm. The unnatural gives rise to darkness, and darkness so easily corrupts."

I placed my hand on his arm, feeling the leathery skin under my palm. "While it was a great wrong to bring it forth, it is here now. We cannot deny or dismiss it. The best we can do is ensure it's not held in the hands of those who know nothing but evil. I have to try. You know that don't you?" But what if I could be just as evil?

"It is so, as much as my heart wishes it not."

"Then, my friend, I must head back to my party. Tell Thaindrus I shall be there as soon as I can."

I patted him on the back, then rose, his warning like manacles around my ankles, hauling me back. I could make no promises that if I succeeded, the Etherweave would not corrupt me.

Our horses whinnied and snorted with unease as we neared the cavern tucked deep in the forest. It was the cusp of night, and my senses tingled, sending a wave of unease through my body. I instinctively rested my hand on my sword, though I knew there was nothing to fight. Perhaps Igthredia's warning had left its mark. Hours after our parting, his words lingered. His fears were my fears; I questioned my strength to withstand the darker lure of the Etherweave.

According to Nazeen legend, King Ricaud, the last great king to sit upon the Bone Throne, had a thirst for knowledge, not war. He invited scholars from all the kingdoms of the seven realms, eager to discuss science, philosophy, and religion, seeking to discover the perfection of living. He then built a library to house the scrolls and tomes he gathered or commissioned. He refused to see the Nazeen as a rival power to his own, but as a source of ancient wisdom. Perfecting farming practices, trade, and wisely managing the wealth of the land was how he built Tarragona into the wealthiest and most powerful kingdom within the near realms.

Was I worthy to take the Etherweave? There seemed to be only one desire within the heart of men, a thirst for power, and I judged myself no better. I questioned my strength to withstand the darker lure of the Etherweave.

We secured our mounts and followed Romelda into a narrow rock corridor. The early evening stars caught the fine white flecks in the rock surface, making them appear covered in a dusting of snow. The natural corridor opened out into a basin covered in moss and creeper and the blackened ground where a fire had been lit. A dark cavern, like a gaping mouth, sat at the far end of the basin.

Romelda led us to that mouth.

"Sirillious," she called before entering the darkness. Not waiting for a reply she waved us forward.

We'd not gone far in when the flicker of candlelight danced across the cavern walls ahead. The choke of smoke singed the hairs at the back of my nose, but the smell of cooked meat drew saliva into my mouth.

"Be gone. I have no need for your maledictions today," the augur muttered as we rounded a corner, forced to stoop forward or bang our heads on the cave's ceiling.

Old, but not stooped, the augur was the smallest man I'd ever seen, reaching to my chest or just below. He was thinner than a child, with sunken cheeks, bulging eyes, and arms like old twigs ready to snap. He smelled like he was already dead, and his clothes hung off his body in tatters. Romelda had abandoned bringing him new clothes long ago, as he only used them as firewood.

He lifted his head from the pile of stones he'd placed in a circle long enough to glimpse Romelda. "It's you." Then he went back to staring at the stones.

I knew little about augury, so I wasn't sure if the stones were his implement for divining or if this was yet another sign of his madness. Did he think they were alive?

Romelda waved Osmud, Garrat, and I farther into the cave, toward what looked like a stone plinth lying on its side. The perfect seat to relieve us of a crook neck.

"Sirillious, old friend," Romelda started, sitting cross-legged on the floor.

He held up a hand to silence her. "Speak and you infect this place with your scorn."

I squeezed the bridge of my nose, fighting the sinking feeling I had wasted valuable time taking the journey.

"You bring me the bloodborn and two other sons of beasts. To steal my meal?"

It had been a long time since I'd heard that title, so it came as a shock. I looked over at the fire, crackling in its circle of stones. A blackened lump of meat inside an earthen bowl sat abandoned beside the fire. Something too small for my eyes to determine crawled across the top of the meat. I smirked on seeing Osmud release a small shudder as he turned from the sight of the meat.

"We're here for your wisdom," Romelda continued.

"Because they have no wisdom of their own," he snapped.

"Because you see what others can't."

Sirillious darted sideways and snatched up his bowl of charred meat and huddled it into his chest. "Because they are too lazy to feed themselves." He took a bite, tearing flesh and gristle and chomping it noisily. I turned away on seeing the small, crawling creature disappear into his mouth.

"The bloodborn will fail," he said, finishing his mouthful. Then he turned it into a song. "Will fail, will fail, will fail." And he jiggled about in some weird hobbling dance and bumping his head on the cave's ceiling.

"Sirillious, please," Romelda pleaded.

"Yes, yes. I've proclaimed. And you won't listen. But do you like my little song?"

Romelda closed her eyes. I watched her chest rise with a steadying breath. Perhaps she regretted this waste of time, too.

I was still looking at Romelda when something hit me between the eyes.

"Hey," I groused as a small bone, wet from Sirillious's mouth, landed in my lap. Beside me, Garrat and Osmud sniggered.

"Are you worthy?" the augur intoned, his voice seeming to bounce around in my head as he glared at me. Jerking his bowl to his chest once more, but losing the meat into the dirt at his feet, he hunched forward. "Evil little boy," he cackled wagging a finger at me.

Garrat rolled his eyes and sank his head into his hands. I glanced at Osmud. He simply shrugged. If only I could care so little, but it seemed the augur had the power to see right into my heart, surfacing my fears from deep within. Was his silly little song my future? And how would I fail? To win the Bone Throne? Or to keep the Etherweave from infecting me?

Romelda launched herself to her knees. "Enough, Sirillious, please." She seized his wrist and jerked him around to face her. "Speak to me, old friend." She pulled him toward her, holding his gaze while dragging her fingers down his face. "It's just you and me. Tell me what you see," she crooned.

Sirillious pulled from her hold as if she'd stung him and hobbled toward the back of the cave to where there was a mound of reed and furs. There he slumped down and ducked his head like a child sulking before throwing himself on his bed and staring up at the rock ceiling.

I shared a look with my two friends, then turned to Romelda, opening my mouth to tell her we wouldn't remain to waste more time when the augur started.

"When the tapestry of night is stripped of its obsidian cloak, and the celestial vaults alight in a radiant blaze akin to the sun's embrace, the rightful heir, a descendant of the fallen, shall rise."

He stayed silent. The three of us shared another look. There was nothing new in what he said, which made this journey a definite waste of our time.

"From the sepulchers of the departed, the one holding ethereal authority and the spectral bond to ancestral spirits shall descend the hallowed steps to claim that which was forged from the essence of destiny's marrow and holds the bloodlife of mortality itself. Those under the veil shall bow to such a claim, and the might of the Bone Throne shall once again be glorious."

We waited, but he'd fallen silent.

Osmud leaned in and whispered, "We traveled all this way for that."

I nodded.

"Did you understand any of it?"

"Not a word."

"Right. I'm not the only fool."

"We agreed to come. So, yes, we're all fools," Garrat added.

"South is our enemy. I didn't need to travel all these miles to understand that," Osmud finished.

"The time draws near when the barriers between realms fade. Darkness shall yield to brilliance. Boundaries will blur and realms intertwine."

Osmud sighed. "Do you think he'll do a translation?"

"Within the yawning depths of a cavernous abode, in the annals of antiquity, where the ethereal whispers of forgotten knowledge intertwine with the very essence of existence, lies an ancient text, ensconced in the heart of darkness. To behold its sacred verses is to embark upon a perilous journey through shadowed corridors where ancient runes breathe life into dormant incantations. Seek not the comforts of light, for within these chambers, the boundary between worlds wavers, and the realm of the arcane reveals itself to those worthy. The tethered secrets of Etherweave, once unleashed, shall breathe vitality into those who dare to wield its power, transcending the mundane shackles of existence. But heed this warning, for the pursuit of such forbidden knowledge demands resolve, and the guardians of these hallowed texts are not easily placated. Only the steadfast and the valiant may lay claim to the coveted whispers that shall reveal the elusive path to the realms where Etherweave magic breathes eternal."

"And I understood that even less," Osmud grumbled.

"Did any of that tell us where to find the Senjel Oracles or the Etherweave?" Garrat said.

"Not that I could tell." I looked at Romelda, but I wasn't comforted by her frown.

Sirillious convulsed, then arched his back off his reed bed, head tipped upward, and howled. Romelda crawled toward him. Before she reached him, he convulsed again, and I waited for another howl. Instead, Sirillious jerked to the side and vomited the burned meat onto the dirt floor, releasing the stench of reed rotted in a bog.

"Curse the dark night," Garrat spat, pulling his cloak up to shield his nose.

"I think the deer in my stomach will go the same way," Osmud complained, patting his belly.

Sirillious looked like a limp fish in one breath, the next he jerked upright in bed. "Twain is the bloodborn."

"Someone needs to shut him up," Osmud grumbled.

"The end, Sirillious," Romelda intoned.

"Twain is the veiled ones' curse."

"Siri—" Romelda began.

"Wait," I said.

But Sirillious said no more. He flopped back down onto his bed of furs, rested his hands across his chest, and closed his eyes. Within breaths, his head rolled to the side as if he'd fallen asleep.

"That's it?" Osmud said.

We waited for moments longer with only the crackle of fire as our answer. Romelda was the first to move, motioning us to follow her from the cave. Eager to escape, I followed her out into the basin and fresh air, then along the natural corridor to our horses, the others close on my heels.

"That went well," Osmud said, once we left the rock corridor to stand in the small clearing.

"I remember little of what he said. We should've brought a scribe," Garrat replied.

I stayed silent, as did Romelda. The moment we exited, she separated from us and turned to stare up at the stars, something she had a habit of doing when deep in thought.

"And someone to translate. I'm sure he twisted everything up so we wouldn't understand," Osmud continued.

By now, the conversation was between him and Garrat, for I moved to stand beside Romelda. Her profile was stark in the moonlight as she continued to gaze up at the stars, ignoring me. It was not Sirillious's claim that I would fail that now set my mind on a new path, but his last words. And I would say by Romelda's expression she was worried about the same thing.

"You were right. I have no time to gather the clans. I shall send Osmud and Garrat in my place. Garrat is a far better negotiator besides. We still need the north united, I'm not turning my back on that, but I'll do as you say and ensure Prince Juel's bride doesn't reach Tarragona's shores."

Romelda turned her attention back to the stars. "I had not expected this."

"Do you now question your choice of heir?"

"Never. Sirillious's last words changes nothing, Tamas. You are the rightful heir."

So she had been as surprised as I to hear his last pronouncements.

"And once you see to Juel's bride, what will you do?"

"I shall enter the House of Tannard and take it down from within."

Romelda turned to me. "Then why do you need your army? Why not take Osmud and Garrat with you to the south?"

"War is inevitable. There's no guarantee the nobility will accept us on the king's death. And the Salmun will fight. We need to crush the south so they may not rise again. We need the Nazeen's help to do this."

"You'll have it. But I warn you, there are less of the blooded these days."

"We'll take everything we can get. I shall visit Thaindrus on our return journey, then I shall take a small party and depart for the coast."