Kelven's Riddle: The Mountain at the Middle of the World Page 20

  Aram shook his head. “I am not comfortable with such things, lord Florm. Less than seven years ago, I was among the lowest of Manon’s servants. I am only where I am due to the exercise of my own limited strength, the blessings of the Maker Himself, and the good fortune of your mighty friendship. I am no lord.”

  “Nonsense.” Florm seemed genuinely annoyed. “It is precisely such things that make men great. You have made your own way in the world and carved a destiny for yourself that cannot be diminished. Your actions have already come to the attention of one of the gods and will almost certainly bring the eye of Manon upon you. Do not resist your fate, Aram, embrace it.”

  “I did not flee into the wilderness to become the enemy of Manon, but to escape him. I am not seeking a destiny. I only do what I think to be right.”

  “Indeed.” Florm looked at him closely. “You have meddled in the affairs of Manon already, with the wolves. He will not care about your intentions. He will want to know his new enemy. I’m afraid you have found a destiny, whether you sought it or not, and cannot escape it now.”

  Aram was tired after his ordeal and this discussion made him angry. “Fine. Let Manon come. Let him kill me or me him. Just let me sleep first. I have gone a long way today and was nearly eaten by a monster in the deep.”

  Florm chuckled. “Yes, I suppose I should have mentioned him, but he usually sleeps during the day and I knew that you would not be alone coming back. His kind is no match for the might of the Guardians.”

  “What is he—what is that thing?”

  “No one knows. Something from the world that existed before our time, probably. He was loosed when the builders of the city quarried too deeply and pierced a subterranean stream. Anyway, he did not eat you.”

  Aram grunted and walked away into the stand of trees on the hill where he rolled immediately into his bed. He was asleep in moments.

  Dawn broke over the high plains before Aram awoke. It was a cool morning, suggesting the coming of the end of summer. His muscles ached from the previous day’s exertions and he sat up and rubbed his stiff joints. The five horses were grazing several yards away and saw him as he sat up. Florm and Thaniel came over and Florm spoke cheerfully.

  “Good morning, lord Aram. Thaniel told me of your wish to go home before the end of summer. I will gladly bear you. On the way, we can commence with your promised education.”

  Aram stood and looked around him. It was a beautiful morning on the highlands with a bright sun in a clear sky and, though cool, promised later warmth. He nodded.

  “If there is nothing further I can do here, my lord, and you do not mind the trip, I am ready to go see how my crops have fared.” He grinned at Florm. “I am, after all, but a simple farmer.”

  Florm snorted. “I have learned that there is nothing simple about you, my friend. But let us go. Thaniel will return to our people for the remainder of the summer and I will join them on the foaling grounds in the fall.”

  They bade Thaniel farewell. The great black horse nodded low to Aram.

  “It has been an honor, my lord.”

  “No, my lord Thaniel,” Aram said pointedly. “The honor has been mine.”

  Thaniel met his gaze for a long moment and then turned and cantered away into the southeast followed by the other horses. Florm and Aram turned west. The sun followed them across the high plains as they put miles of rolling grasslands, coiling streams, and gentle forested ridges behind them. By sunset, they’d covered nearly a hundred miles and the pine mountains were less than a half-day’s journey before them when they stopped for the night.

  Before noon on the morrow, they were climbing the long draw above the meadow where Aram had saved Florm’s life in the spring. When they stopped for a drink from the clear water of the stream Aram put into words the request he’d made so much earlier in the year.

  “My lord Florm, you said that you were a colt when men last inhabited my city. Can you tell me the history of those days? In fact, would you tell me of the history of the world as we travel?”

  Florm looked at him and chuckled. “I promised you an education but—of the world? That is a bit ambitious for one day’s journey, don’t you think?”

  Aram shrugged. “I wouldn’t know, my lord. Other than the names of my father and mother and of my sister that the servants of Manon took, I know nothing of my own history, let alone that of my people. Certainly, I know nothing of the history of the wider world in which you have lived for so long.”

  “Where would you like me to begin?”

  Aram stood up from drinking and gazed out across the rounded meadow. “What do you know about the beginning, my lord?”

  “The beginning? Of the world—or of your people?”

  “Of everything.” Aram glanced up an eagle circling high in the air above the brow of a distant hill. “I’d like to know about the very beginning—of life—if you don’t mind, and about everything that’s happened since.”

  “I can only relate to you those things that I myself have heard from my elders about events before the great war, Aram—I was not alive then, so I cannot bear eyewitness.” Florm lowered his nose for one more drink. “But I will tell you what my father told me of such things when I was a colt.”

  The great horse lifted his head, nose dripping, and backed away from the stream. After Aram had climbed upon his back he turned toward the west and headed up the draw toward the heights. Within moments they were among the trees where the air was full of the pungent scent of evergreens.

  Florm was silent for awhile as they trended up through the thick fir and spruce trees of the draw. The late morning was cool. Birds sang high in the branches and squirrels quarreled over the last of the summer’s fare. As the trail broke out of the trees and they had a view back to the east of the great highland plains, the horse lord spoke.

  “Long ago, there was nothing, only the Maker, and He was alone and lonely, and there was no light. He wandered the utter blackness until he came to the shores of a dark sea. The sea was filled with the waters of chaos. There was no order. But the Maker set Himself to organize and He ordered everything out of the raw materials of that vast sea. He made the stars and He made the worlds, and He made for Himself children, the gods of old.

  “With the help of His children, He filled the earth with vibrant life and He put all things under the dominion of the ancient people that He made from the soil of the world. There were two of them at the beginning, Isher, the first man, and Chavah, the mother of all living. Out of the womb of Chavah came a great race. They built cities and roads and subdued the earth and it gave to them of its fullness. For thousands of years, the world was a paradise.

  “But the ancients could not help but look at the stars that filled the heavens at night. And when they had fully developed the resources of the world, they lusted for the regions of the stars. Why, they wondered, should the Maker and the gods alone live out among the glorious vastness of the universe? They had become great, so why should they be confined to one world when there were undoubtedly many? Rather than petitioning the Maker on these questions with reason and humility, they took refuge in foolish and ignorant pride and fell into envy. And in their increasing envy, they came to despise the earth that sustained them.”

  Aram shifted uneasily. “How could anyone despise the earth, my lord? It is such a beautiful place. Were it not for the tyranny of Manon and the evil that he has unleashed in the world, it would be a paradise.”

  “True.” The horse lord agreed. “But when life is too easy—something that you will have no concept of, my friend—people tend to become disillusioned with the wealth of all those things that come to them without the exertion of any great effort on their part. Perhaps it is guilt; I don’t know, but my father use to say that when people no longer have to strive to better their daily existence, the end result, generally, is indolence, decadence, and moral decay. All of which may lead to the loss of self-control. That is, evidently, what happened to the ancients.”

  A
ram was quiet as he considered this but he couldn’t quite get his mind around it. Florm was right; his life had been so difficult that he could not relate to the problems of the ancients. Self-governance was a necessary attribute for survival in his world; it was hard to imagine a world where the concept itself was at issue.

  “Shall I continue?” Florm asked.

  “Please, my lord.”

  “Isher and Chavah spoke to their children and advised them to consider their dark thoughts. Was not the earth a garden of delights? Nothing was denied them and life was full and easy. And if they desired the stars, why not present their Maker with a respectful petition, one which in His wisdom and at His discretion, He would very likely grant to them? But the children of Isher would not listen to their father and mother. For there was someone else that had come among them.

  “Aberanezagoth was one of the greatest of the gods of old, powerful among the children of the Maker, and he, also, was not content with his lot. He wished to sit on the throne of the Maker and rule the stars. The children of the earth allied with him for he promised them that they could enter the kingdoms of the heavens and sit in seats of power. And so there was a rebellion. Naturally, as all the power in the universe emanates from the Maker, the rebellion failed.

  “Aberanezagoth was banished by the Maker to the unstructured darkness beyond the stars where he wanders in despair to this day and the people of the earth were destroyed. The world was turned upside down and was drowned in confusion. Isher and Chavah were allowed to ascend into the heavens to dwell among the gods. For a while, the earth was desolate and uninhabited.

  “But the Maker did not like to see the work of His hands languish. So he told the gods, His children, ‘make of it what you will, let the earth come alive.’ The gods rebuilt the earth and renewed the face of the ground. And when the Maker saw what they had done with the earth, He made the humans, your ancestors to dwell here. He made plants and animals, fish and birds of all kinds and He made my people, too. Then he gave the care of this grand new world into the hands of His children, the gods.

  “But the gods did not give full dominion to any of the peoples of the earth. Many, such as yours and mine were equal in stature and had to make alliances. And the gods determined to give the governance of the world to three of their own kind. Kelven had dominion of all things that grew from the earth and of all life but that of men. To him also was given control of the forces of the air, storms and wind and rain.

  “Ferros was given control of the deep engines of the earth in order to maintain structure and balance. Into his hands was given control of the heat of the depths and the currents of metal and stone that flow through the heart of the world.

  “To Manon was given the governance and guidance of humans.”

  Aram was stunned by this statement and blurted out his astonishment. “My lord, Manon is the rightful ruler of my people?”

  “No, no,” Florm answered quickly. “Don’t misunderstand, my friend. Your people were made like mine, and the wolves, and many others, with a free will to decide whether they will act for good or for ill. When Manon was given the oversight of men, the emphasis was on guidance rather more than governance—it was intended that he should be more advisor than ruler.”

  “Then he has broken the laws of the Maker.” Aram protested. “Why was he not punished?”

  Florm was silent for a moment as he negotiated a steep, narrow place in the trail. “Perhaps you will have a hand in his punishment, Aram, for the story is not yet over.” The horse chuckled quietly and looked around at his rider. “Nor, for that matter, is my narrative. Shall I continue?”

  Aram grinned. “Yes, my lord, if you please.”

  “Well—all was well for thousands of years. The first king of the earth was Ram. He it was that allied with my grandfather, Boram. Under the guidance of Manon and Kelven, the world was restored to its former glory. The great king Ram built your city, Aram, twenty thousand years ago. It was carved from the living rock of the mountain. He gave it the name, Regamun Mediar, which means ‘the Power at the Center of the World’.

  “A succession of the kings of old dwelt there; Ram, Arphaxad, Meshech, Tiras, and Tobal. Each reigned for more than a thousand years and passed into the glory of the ages. Manon knew each of the kings and counseled them; they grew in wisdom and knowledge and with each generation they needed him less. After the death of Tobal, rule passed to his twin sons, Magog and Peleg.

  “For a time, they ruled together in relative harmony with only minor disagreements between them. But Manon perceived that an opportunity had come for him to regain influence. He began to whisper in the ears of Magog and Peleg, especially to Magog who was more willing to listen. Minor disagreements soon became sharp arguments over policy.

  “The peoples of the world began to align themselves with one or the other until, finally, there were, in effect, two nations—divided, but sharing the same cities and countryside, intermingled. Differences between Magog and Peleg translated into strife between neighbors and families. Ultimately, the social and political schisms became too great and there was civil war.

  “The world of men devolved into chaos. Armies wreaked slaughter, cities were burned, and society was destroyed. Finally, Javan, the clever son of Verita, the younger sister of Magog and Peleg, had enough. He suggested that in order to end the war, Magog and Peleg should meet in single combat before the walls of a neutral city, of which there were few indeed. But the city of their sister, a city near the edge of the world called Sulan was one such place. The hatred between Magog and Peleg had grown to such a degree that they willingly accepted Javan’s proposition.

  “They met before the walls of Sulan in fierce combat and Magog slew Peleg in a pitched battle. Upon the death of one of his uncles at the hand of the other, Javan immediately invoked the ancient law that said that he who slays a ruler in violence must forfeit his own life and Magog was hanged from the walls of Sulan for the murder of his brother.

  “Javan went to Regumun Mediar, put himself upon the throne, and set about to heal the breach caused by the war and the treachery of his uncles. But the damage was too great for one man and there was resentment toward Javan for his part in what had happened. Finally, he went into exile and gave up the throne in favor of the young son of Peleg, Joktan.

  “Joktan was handsome and proud and strong in mind and body, but he was also wise and just. He re-established a government of law and ruthlessly put down any vestiges of rebellion while fostering equality and justice among all people. By the time he’d reigned for a hundred years, peace had come to all the land and the golden ages of prosperity returned.

  “As I said, Joktan was strong and proud, and though he paid obeisance to Manon, he seldom sought his counsel for he suspected Manon’s part in bringing the horror of the civil war upon them. Joktan reigned one thousand nine hundred and seventy-three years and he did not die but was slain. For as the reign of Joktan lengthened, he called upon Manon less and less and finally not at all.

  “Manon was displeased and did not like being ignored by his subjects. Also, though know one knows what dark thoughts he harbors deep in his heart, he evidently felt that he deserved more respect from his fellows among the gods as well. It is believed that he made a journey into the nether regions of chaos and sought out Aberanezagoth and his counsel.

  “When Manon returned in secret, he no longer walked among men but built a stronghold in the north which he named Morkendril, ‘The New Beginning’. He built a tower of strength that reached into the sky and beneath it he delved deep into the domain of Ferros. After that, the disappearances began. Men and women that lived in remote regions of the earth or wandered alone into the wilderness vanished and did not return.

  “Then, after a time, it was only the young women that turned up missing, especially in the regions near to Morkendril. Suspicions were raised that Manon was engaged in dark arts that he had learned of Aberanezagoth. Finally, Joktan sent agents to speak with Manon and learn of his work
s, but none returned.

  “About this time other evils appeared upon the face of the earth. Wolves, which had always been a fierce people but had remained loyal to the laws of Kelven as denizens of the wild regions, abandoned that law and began to slay men along the borders of their country. When appeal was made to Kelven, and he went to learn the truth, the wolves refused to hear him.

  “Then Joktan himself went with an army to confront Manon at Morkendril and learn of his deeds and intentions. When Joktan was upon the plain before the great tower, Manon suddenly unleashed a great army of fierce beings never before seen, the spawn of his vile experiments with the race of men. These were the lashers and they fell upon Joktan and his army with terrible fierceness. Joktan barely escaped with his life. And so the battle for control of the world was joined.

  “Manon loosed his armies that he had created in secret upon the peoples of the earth. Death and darkness fell across the whole of the land. Joktan and the free peoples fought against the armies of Manon but everywhere they were pushed back. Finally, an appeal was made to Kelven and Ferros.

  “Kelven joined with the race of men against Manon and looked to the gods for help, but they were embroiled in troubles of their own for Manon had made confederates among their numbers. You see, he wished to control not only the world but the heavens as well. It was, in fact, a reprise of the rebellion of Aberanezagoth. The Maker had long since gone away to His far home and left all to his children. The gods were embroiled in confusion among their own ranks and so the battle for the world was left to Joktan, Manon, Kelven, and Ferros.

  “Kelven readily allied himself with Joktan but Ferros decided to behave defensively rather than risk outright war with Manon.”

  “Excuse me, my lord,” Aram broke into the narrative.

  “What is it?” Florm inquired. They were just then passing between the tall spires of the mountains and Aram’s green valley was spread out before them to the west.