Kelven's Riddle Book Three Page 4

  She walked through deep woods, beneath trees with leaves colored with every hue of the rainbow; she saw deer and rabbits in profusion, and countless varied birds. Her world expanded marvelously as she journeyed toward Aram. On the fourth day, they topped a broad ridge running east and west, and she looked down upon the courses of two rivers, clear, clean, and sparkling.

  Beyond them lay the valley. Aram’s valley.

  It ran to the north between high, timbered mountains with bare tops on the east, and the vast bulk of an enormous black mountain to the west. It was wide and long, narrowing as it ran to the north. There were scattered copses of trees and shining streams that meandered through the heart of it. It was beautiful, magical, and after gazing upon it for several moments, she discovered that she hadn’t breathed since topping the ridge and seeing it for the first time.

  More marvels awaited her that afternoon and the next morning. After wading the rivers, which at this time of year ran slow and shallow over the stones of crossings that were level and smooth, they went up the ancient valley road. That night, they camped among the tumbled ruins of a town. There was no sign that Aram was in the valley, or knew that they were on his lands.

  The next morning, about two hours after sunup, as they continued northward along the road, Findaen, who’d been in the lead, came back and put his arm around Ka’en, turning her to face northwest. He stretched out his arm.

  “Look there. Over against the mountain.”

  She gazed in the direction indicated. About three miles away, at the base of the great black mountain, the bright rays of the morning sun had delineated an immense jewel. There was an enormous rectangular swath of brilliant red, rose, gold, and white shining at the base of the black fastness of the mountain.

  “His city.” Findaen said quietly.

  She gazed at the distant city in awe. “Yes, he told me of it. It’s even more beautiful than I imagined.”

  He scowled at her. “He told you about his city? Indeed. But no mention of the fact that he loved you?”

  He snorted with an overt contempt that was underlain with a private hurt.

  By midday, they had turned the corner by four impressive pyramids that marked the intersection of the valley road and the main avenue to the city and were progressing up the avenue toward the shining jewel carved into the mountain. The multi-colored, masterfully carved stone of the magnificent city dazzled Ka’en’s eyes as they drew near and it rose up the mountainside above them.

  There was no movement along the top of the wall that stood before the city, and no sound besides the soughing of the breeze through the bare limbs of an orchard on the left side of the avenue. Other than two hawks circling in the air to the south, and small herds of deer that chirped and ran when they drew near, there was no sign that anyone was about. Aram did not show.

  They came up under the vast wall of stone that guarded the entrances to the city and Findaen stopped, gazing upward uncertainly. He looked over at Jonwood.

  “Should we shout – let him know we’re here?”

  While Jonwood gazed upward, considering, Wamlak looked around and shook his head. “He’s not here.”

  Ka’en looked at him. “Why do you say that?”

  In answer Wamlak smiled and shrugged. “You know Lord Aram. An ant couldn’t get within a mile of him without him knowing it’s there. No – if he’s here, he knows we’re here, and he would have intercepted us long before now. He’s not here.”

  They stood for a while longer, discussing what to do, and then Ka’en turned away, found the steps in the deep alley between the wall and the city and climbed up onto the great porch, hugging the wall to the left for fear of the chasm that deepened on her right as she went up. As she rose out of the alleyway into the sunlight, the sight of the city, with its grand façade carved into the rock of the mountain astounded her yet again and froze her in place while she gazed upon its amazing beauty. She turned to see its effect upon her companions but none of them had followed.

  After a few moments, she went across the porch and into the astonishing city of stone. The beauty of the ancient architecture took her breath away, with its wide streets, fantastic carved columns and facades, and its many lovely mansions. But she had not come to admire the ancient city’s beauty; she had come to find its master.

  “Aram.” She called out, but there was no answer, only the gentle sighing of the breeze feeling its way through unseen archways and porticos. She called again, louder. “Aram.”

  Nothing.

  Tears came into her eyes and she shuddered as if from a sudden chill. Her worst fear seemed to be realized. Aram had gone, somewhere out into the wide world, and she had made the arduous journey through the wilderness for nothing.

  Numbly she made her way out of the city and across the porch. Crossing a stone bridge out to the top of the wall, she looked over the valley, hoping against hope to see his form making his way to the city from one of the rolling fields or groves of trees. But other than the two hawks high in the air to her right, nothing moved in all the world.

  Watching the hawks, she remembered the eagle that had come to summon Aram when the horses came. What was his name?

  Alvern.

  She closed her eyes. Bending her mind to the effort, not knowing if she did it properly, she called out his name with her might.

  Alvern. Alvern, the great eagle. Please, come to me. I need you.

  She opened her eyes and studied the sky, but the broad-winged lord of the air was nowhere to be seen. Again, she called with her mind, sending her need into the air.

  Then a voice, thin, clipped, and sharp, broke in upon her mind.

  Lord Alvern has gone away into the north with Lord Aram, the Nath-sinae.

  She opened her eyes and looked up. Hovering on the wind near her there was a red-tailed hawk with dark, shining eyes, and black wingtips.

  Ka’en swallowed her astonishment and touched her breast with her hand. “My name is Ka’en. I am from the town to the south. I come seeking news of Lord Aram.”

  The hawk studied her for a moment, turning its wing feathers subtly this way and that as it rode the breeze. Finally, it spoke again.

  “My name is Cree. Are you the woman that Lord Aram regards?”

  Ka’en’s heart flipped over in her breast. Regards? “Yes – well, I am the woman that loves him.”

  Cree rose and dipped on the crest of the breeze. “The Nath-sinae has gone away to the north, as I said. Wolves came a week ago and warned him of danger. Then the horses came and they went north. Lord Alvern has left these skies. When he returns, there will be knowledge and understanding of the Nath-sinae and of his deeds.”

  Ka’en frowned at the bird. “Who is this Nath-sinae of whom you speak?”

  Cree was silent for a long moment. “Long ago, the great Lord Kelven, who gave us the wind, left the earth for all time, leaping unto the stars from the top of his mountain in smoke and fire. But before he left he promised us, the winged people, that a man, the Nath-sinae – the Sent One – would come and rescue the world from tyranny. A man in whom the spirit of Lord Kelven himself would reside.”

  The hawk’s eyes glistened in the sunlight.

  “The man has come. He is the Lord Aram.”

  Ka’en stiffened at hearing this astonishing statement. Cree saw the effect her words had on the human woman and she drew her own conclusions.

  “I am sorry for you. Love is difficult enough in itself without being attached to someone so high and unreachable. But there can be no doubt. Have you not seen what this man can do – and has done? He is an instrument of destiny – of the gods. He is the Sent One. He is the Lord Kelven returned. Though he may have regard for you, my lady, he is too high to be touched. I am sorry.”

  At these amazing assertions, Ka’en felt a ragged desperation arise in her breast, choking off hope, but she wrapped her arms about herself and shook her head, fighting off the doubts that the hawk’s words engendered.

  “No, Cree, no. I mean –
yes – the Lord Aram may be the spirit of Kelven returned – but he is also a man – that I love. He is a man, and I love him.”

  “He may be a man, but he is also more.” The hawk studied her a moment. “I am truly sorry for you, my lady.”

  Ka’en swallowed. “When did he go?”

  “As I said, a week ago. He and the horses went northward to prevent the vile servants of the grim lord from invading this valley.” Her voice rose in pitch, touched with pride. “The safety and welfare of the people of this valley are ever uppermost in his mind.”

  “Do you know when he will return?”

  “I’m sorry, my lady, I do not. But when the Lord Alvern comes back into these skies, he will have knowledge of the Nath-sinae.”

  The desperation won out. Ka’en put her face in her hands and slumped onto the railing of the wall. Though she was terrified of heights, she did not care that at this moment sixty feet of perpendicular stone lay between her and the stones of the avenue below.

  She began to cry.

  Cree swooped down and lit on the wall, and came close to the woman. The hawk had known this kind of loss and the sight of the woman sobbing touched her at her heart.

  “The Lord Aram will return, my lady – he always does return.”

  Ka’en nodded with her face still covered, and spoke through her fingers. “I wanted so badly to see him now.” She drew her hands away and looked at the hawk with streaming eyes. “I did not know it until a few weeks ago, but the Lord Aram confessed his love for me to my brother. Had I known it, I would never have let him leave.”

  The hawk blinked her shining eyes. “He said that he loved you – as a man loves a woman?”

  Ka’en nodded.

  Cree was silent for several moments. “Well, it is said that the Lord Kelven once loved a human woman. It is not beyond the reach of possibility that the Nath-sinae would love you, my lady.” She was silent again a moment longer. “Still, he is not here. I am sorry.”

  Ka’en stood erect and gazed into the north. After a minute or two she looked at Cree. “Can you guide me to him?”

  “Oh, no, my lady. I am sorry, but he has gone far beyond the limits of my flight, away to the north, over the curve of the earth. And he is at war. Did you not know this? He will return when he has destroyed the servants of the enemy.”

  The hawk spoke these words confidently, as if the conclusion of matters occurring far away over the rim of the world was a certain thing. Upon hearing this, though, Ka’en’s spirit grew still and cold. She knew what Aram could do in battle – she had witnessed it once, herself. But she had not loved him then, she had thought him a legend and not a man. Now, despite what the hawk and her kind believed, she knew him to be a man – a strong man, yes, and a man in whose presence the dark, mysterious rivers of history, myth, and legend seemed to find confluence, but a man nonetheless.

  And she loved him.

  But there was nothing to be done. She must go home, and wait for him to return to her, if he would. She looked at Cree.

  “Will you tell him that I came?”

  “I will, my lady.”

  Ka’en hesitated. “And is there any way for you to get word to me when he comes?”

  The hawk’s black eyes shone. “I promise you, my lady – when Lord Aram returns, you will know. I will send word with the falcon, Inico. She is strong and fast and will find you quickly.”

  So, Ka’en had gone home, back through the wooded hills, cooling with the frosts of autumn, to wait and wonder, to endure a winter of doubt and torment.

  When spring came and the weather warmed, she went to each veranda about the house every morning and then down to the gates to gaze northwest across the prairie into the hills. She did this every day, it became more than a habit; it became the mantra for her life. Lancer watched her with haunted eyes, and Findaen began to avoid her.

  Then, one morning when the day had warmed early and the sun shone in a cloudless sky, a voice came down out of the blue, shrill and firm.

  I seek the lady Ka’en – I have news of the Nath-sinae, from Cree the ancient.

  Ka’en was on the eastern veranda, and she ran to the rail and looked up and called aloud, caring not who heard her. “I am Ka’en.”

  A dark, thin form darted down out of the sky and flitted back and forth above the house.

  “I am Inico, of the valley. Cree the ancient sends word that Lord Aram has returned and will come to you when he can, though there is rumor from the west that troubles him.”

  Ka’en gasped with gladness at this wondrous announcement, ignoring the caveat contained within it. “Thank you, Inico, thank you.”

  “Is there aught else that I can do for you, my lady?”

  “No, thank you. And tell Cree, thank you, as well.”

  “As you wish, my lady. Farewell.”

  She waited five days and when Aram did not come, once again she forced Findaen and his three companions to take her over the wooded hills, now green and vibrant with the subtle force of spring. They crossed the rivers, a more difficult proposition at this time of year, requiring that they swim much of the distance through the cold, quick-flowing water. But Ka’en was a strong swimmer, strengthened by her need to see Aram, and the others were simply strong. They crossed without serious incident and continued on up through the valley toward Aram’s city. She was dressed again in clothes borrowed from her brother, but this time she took her good white dress. When they reached the intersection by the pyramids, she went behind one of the massive structures and changed, and then they went once again up the broad avenue to the city of carved stone at the base of the black mountain.

  And once again, Aram was not there.

  Cree saw her come and flew down to inform her that Aram had been called away to the west to rescue the people of a village beyond the mountains from the servants of the grim lord. Once again, when she needed so desperately to see him, he had gone away to war.

  She went back down the steps to the great avenue and told Findaen what Cree had imparted. His jovial face darkened as he heard her. He rounded on his companions in frustration.

  “What is with this man? Will he try and fight this whole war by himself?” He cursed and kicked at the ground. “We were supposed to be a part of this, to be an army – what the hell can he be thinking?”

  He took several deep breaths, calming himself, and looked at Jonwood, Wamlak, and Mallet.

  “I know that Lord Aram is a great warrior – far more than any of us will likely ever be, but he cannot win this by himself. If he continues to fight alone, sooner or later, they’ll kill him, and where will that leave us?”

  Jonwood and Wamlak reacted stoically to this outburst, but Mallet, who stood greatly in awe of Aram on many levels, could not let it pass.

  “It’s not for us to question what he does, Findaen.”

  Findaen looked at the big man, shook his head and turned away.

  Wamlak glanced at Ka’en and then addressed Mallet. “I don’t think he’s going to die, Mallet, and it’s true that he’s used to fighting alone, but –”

  “I agree with Findaen,” Jonwood interjected quietly. “It’s foolish of him.”

  Dejected by the fact of Aram’s absence, Ka’en could not stand to hear this conversation, so she went back up the stairs to be with Cree.

  But Cree had gone.

  While Ka’en stood gazing about the porch and up into the sky above the avenue, trying to discern where the hawk had flown, Cree twisted down and lit near her on the railing.

  “Lord Aram has come.”

  Ka’en stared at the bird. She did not move or speak for several minutes, but then she spun and looked down the avenue toward the distant intersection.

  “Where is he? I don’t see him.”

  “He is just now coming down the great north road out of the hills, accompanied by many horses and a large company of people.”

  Ka’en turned and ran across the bridge that spanned the deep alleyway and went out to the platform th
at looked down the main avenue from the center of the wall. Cree settled on the railing and together they watched the distant intersection. After about a half hour, dark shapes began moving from left to right across their field of vision and out of view down the main valley road – horses, and people.

  A great dark shape, a tall man on a large horse, stopped in the center of the far junction of roads, and then turned and charged up the avenue toward the city. Even before he came close enough to be recognized, Ka’en knew who he was. Her heart leapt into her throat.

  Minutes later, Aram came up to the pavement below the wall, mounted on an enormous black horse. He dismounted, spoke for a few moments with Findaen and the others and then went into the alleyway below the stairs. With Cree on her shoulder, Ka’en crossed back over the bridge and stood by the railing where she could see the top of the stairway.

  And then he was there, standing very still, looking at her with his earnest green eyes.

  “Ka’en,” he said.

  She ran to him and his arms enveloped her, and she knew that her life, the life she had so desired, had finally begun.

  7

  Where had she gone? Why had she left him? Had he offended her in some way? And then a thought came that brought with it horror.

  Was she also lost in this vast darkness, needing him to find her and take her out of its terrible influence? Had he abandoned her? Dear Maker in the heavens, he thought, let it not be true.

  Desperately, he pivoted, gazing fiercely into the darkness in all directions, but saw nothing. His panic grew, giving him strength, consuming the remnants of the pain. What was pain, if Ka’en needed him to be strong?

  He must move, must find her, must choose a direction, and begin a search.

  Which way?

  He began to move in circles, walking – or floating – moving out wider and wider, into the encircling darkness, desperate to find her. Aram was certain now that she needed him to go to her, and he needed to find her, too, for himself. She was his only link to certainty, to finding out who he was and what his being here – or anywhere – meant. Mostly, though, the certainty grew in him that she needed him.