Chapter One
Into the Fire
I watched as the steel heated up to a cherry red glow in the forge before me.
Knowing it was time for the next step I pulled the glowing rod out of the hot coals with the pair of iron pincers.
The pincers grasped the rod on the tang end of what would become a sword. I swung around and placed the still glowing rod across an anvil.
My twin brother, Gavin, began to pound away with a hand sledge at the semi molten steel. Sparks flew, as he aimed his blows and I adjusted the rod across the anvil in time with his heavy strikes of the sledge.
Sweat rolled off of both of us, but we didn’t care. We were too into the love of creating every boy’s fantasy object, a sword.
We had made swords and knives before, but this one was special. Our oldest brother, Talaric, had asked us to make this sword for him.
He rarely asked or had so little to do with us most of the time, which made it a big deal, when he had asked us to make a coming of age sword, a man’s sword of war.
We were completely engrossed in our work, as this sword reflected the new found respect that many were coming to see in our work. I reflected with every pounding hammer strike of the day that Gavin would help me create my own coming of age sword.
Giving Gavin a glance I surmised that his thoughts consisted of nothing farther then the joy he received in the pounding of the red metal into a new creation.
He was predictably content in the moment of whatever he was doing, it was just the way that he was. My thoughts always drifted more to the future and the far reaching effects that I wanted to be a part of.
Gavin would probably write a poem about making the sword later on, which I would probably end up helping him untangle.
Gavin had a great gift for stating complex issues into a simpler straight forward way, but when it came to writing it out he was hopeless. He kept trying though.
That is one thing our father had grilled into us, always keep trying. As long as the fight was alive than there was a chance for victory over whatever the obstacle was at the moment.
I was the third son born to my father, Roric Ta’lont. He was the leader of our realm. Gavin and I were twins, but Gavin had been born twenty minutes before I had been. We were far from being identical twins as some were. He was bigger and brawnier, while I was the leaner and more quick witted one.
My oldest brother, Talaric was the living replica of our father. He was slightly bigger than father, but not as quick, I thought. My father was untouchable in a fight and I doubt if there would ever be a day he was bested in a fight.
I had two sisters, one older and one younger. Our oldest sister, Sansa, was like our oldest brother in that she generally had little to do with us and we her. Our little sister, Ellanarra, tagged along with me and Gavin wherever we went, like the wart that we couldn’t get rid of.
Okay that was mean of me. She was okay for a girl, I guess. I just wished she wasn’t always pestering us. Our mother was the string that held us all together. She always met us on the common ground that we needed, at the moment we needed her most. She was always there for us, for me anyway. I didn’t have many friends.
Truth be told I didn’t really have any friends other than her and Gavin. Gavin didn’t really count as he couldn’t help, but be bonded to me as his twin.
There was possibly someone else that I could call a friend, our fighting instructor Rolf. He was my father’s closest friend and confidant, other than my mother. Rolf and I were quite similar in temperament.
We were both quiet and not prone to be overly talkative, especially to people we did not respect. I gathered that he quite enjoyed my presence during our quiet sparing matches and I his. Father had been rather absent from my life for the past few years and I had convinced myself as to why that was.
Affairs of state and dealing with my older brother’s antics seemed to eat up all his time. The latter made me angry, because I very much wanted my father’s attention too.
I had expressed my anger regarding the usurpation of my father’s attention by my older brother to my mother once and she had told me something that had given me peace on the matter.
She had said, “Zevin have you ever considered that the reason your father is spending more time with Talaric right now is not because he loves him anymore than he does you, but rather because that as the future leader of our family your older brother is lacking in several key aspects important for leadership that you already posses?”
In genuine consternation at what those aspects could be I had asked, “What would those be?”
She had taken my hand and looked me directly in the eye and said, “You’re quiet and reserved by nature, which means you won’t give away what you’re thinking or feeling in a diplomatic setting. You’re a master at being able to control your own emotions, which could help you avoid making rash decisions in either matters of state, war, and even love. When you act upon something it’s because you’ve already studied every angle to the problem and have come up with the most likely path to success. When you act, you fully commit yourself to the action until it is complete. You’re a natural born leader Zevin and your older brother is far behind you in so many ways.”
I hadn’t realized that I possessed such qualities or that I was such an open book to my mother. Her telling me that had made me feel in some way above the situation and after that I no longer grew envious of Talaric, for the extra attention that father gave him.
He needed it more than I did. The knowledge of that had given me peace and even an odd contentment that enabled me to walk confidently in my brother’s shadow.
I had asked my mother, “What good does it do me to have those abilities for leadership seeing as I will never have the chance to be a leader?”
My mother had only smiled and reached out her hand to brush the long tendrils of black hair off of my forehead. “Have patience my son. I am fully encouraged that God has a plan for you that will utilize all the many gifts that He has blessed you with.”
My mother always had a way of comforting me in a way that made me feel special and unique inside.
I came back to the present. My hands hurt from the vibrations caused by Gavin’s methodical hammer strikes to the hot steel taking shape before us. It was a good start to the sword.
Gavin stopped pounding and I lifted the rough blade off the anvil and doused it in a barrel of water nearby. I liked the hiss of the water when the hot iron was passed through it. Pulling the rough blade back out I laid it to the side.
“Your good Gavin, there’s no doubting that!”
Gavin studied it critically, “It could be better I think, but I guess it will have to do for now.”
I avoided rolling my eyes dramatically. There was nothing wrong with his hammer work. His problem was that he was a perfectionist by nature and thus never happy with his work. It could always be better in his eyes.
“One day I’ll make you a sword. A special sword I think.” Gavin said speculatively.
“I know you will and I’ll help you.”
Surprisingly Gavin shook his head no, “No I’ll make the sword myself and it will be perfect. You deserve such a sword!” He finished strongly, clearly not wanting to hear another word on the matter.
I may be the quiet one of the two of us, but he was by far the more enigmatic one. He was very serious about his faith in the Creator and talked to Him all the time like the Creator was right next to him. Maybe He was.
I had often thought that my brother saw more than the rest of us did, except for maybe my father. My faith walk with the Creator was simple. I believed in Him, because I had seen Him witnessed out in the lives of my parents and had experienced enough of Him in my own life to know that He was real.
I did my best to be faithful to everything that I knew to please the Creator, but I couldn’t help think that I was missing something in comparison with my brother’s relationship with the Creator.
I knew this area of belief was perhaps my parent’s biggest concern with my older brother Talaric. Talaric loved life and the pursuit of it. Nothing wrong with that alone, but he had a tendency to overlook or bend the rules. He always did it though with his charming smile.
Shouts rang out and I heard the lower gate opening up. Talaric and Larc’s patrol had come back. I left the blacksmith shop and Gavin to see what news the patrol, if any, had acquired. At the head of the column rode Talaric and Larc together, they were laughing about something.
Larc was like a son to my father and if Rolf was his right hand then Larc was the other hand. Larc was universally liked by everyone, especially women. They seemed to have a soft spot for him.
Larc better than anyone was able to control Talaric’s sudden and often vicious bouts of unreasoning anger.
The patrol had brought back visitors with them. It was Zarsha and her husband, Captain Jansa from the Tranquil Islands.
Much had been said against her for marrying an older man, but I for one didn’t see the point of it. Captain Jansa was a man’s man and he wasn’t that much older than her.
I thought she had done well for herself and was glad for her. She had always acted like a second mother to me, as I was growing up. I had missed her since she had gone away to the Tranquil Islands, but things change.
That was a lesson that was being enforced onto my consciousness the older an older that I got. It was the way it was, like it or not. Change was inevitable in life.
It was going to be a long visit and I’d pay my respects later, as I had no love for being in the immediate spotlight of the social meet and greet going on.
I ducked out of view and headed out to the practice field to take out some of my youthful aggression on some practice dummies, as I escaped away from the crowds.
Gavin watched his brother skip out and felt immediately envious of him. He’d like to skip out on all the greeting stuff to, but as he didn’t practice much he didn’t have the excuse that Zevin did.
Sudden loud laughter caused Gavin to look darkly back to the patrol at the laughing form of his older brother at the head of the column. He doubted whether mother or father fully knew just how far Talaric had fallen in terms of morality.
He didn’t feel that it was his job to report what he knew about his brother’s activities, unless his parents asked him, which they did sometimes about various things.
Gavin sighed and laid down the half finished sword that his hands were still itching to continue working on.
At least one of the two of them had to be responsible and show up to the welcoming committee. It looked like he had been elected by process of elimination.
In all fairness Zevin did usually make the social appearances so it was at least somewhat justified for him to skip out on one such occasion.
Gavin closed the door of the blacksmith shop and ambled somewhat reluctantly up the path to the great hall and the loud cheering throng that had gathered.
Roric kept his face controlled from the anger he felt, when he learned that Talaric had taken off with Zarsha to visit Krista without first coming to report to him. Larc stood before him in all seriousness expecting to get his share of abuse for letting Talaric run off, as he well knew what was going through his mentor’s mind.
It was always the duty of the patrol leader to give the report and Talaric had been the patrol leader.
“What do you have to report?” Roric asked stiffly.
Larc swallowed and began, “It’s as you feared sir. The Zoarinians have begun to exert influence once more in the Southern Settlements. They have not made a military presence yet, but I fear that they are making their presence felt in a darker way.”
“Are you referring to the dark cult that we are increasingly hearing of?” Roric asked sitting up slightly.
“I’m afraid so Roric. We heard and saw evidence of the presence of their priests everywhere.”
“Did you see them?”
“No that was what was most disturbing. They seemed to know that we were coming and vanished before us. What I found most disturbing though Roric is that after everything we have done to free the Southern Settlements from Zoarinian control they seem to be drifting back to them and these new strange beliefs.”
Roric nodded gravely, “Thank you Larc. You can go now.”
“Yes Sir!” Larc said eager to get away from the tempest he saw brewing in his step father’s eyes.
Roric got up and stared out the large window of his private council chamber at the grand panoramic vista that opened up beyond the walls of the castle. He didn’t like any of what was happening.
It had been twenty two years since the great battle that had won the Valley Landers their freedom from the threat of the Zoarinian Empire. The first twenty of those years had been the best years of his life, but the last two had been full of troubles.
At times he didn’t know if he was imagining the threat he felt or if it was really happening. For some time now he’d had the feeling that everything was slipping away somehow.
It had started with the emergence of a strange dark cult that called themselves, Lights of the Prophets.
They taught a strange story that had similarities to the words of the Creator, but was marketably different in where it led its believers and what it asked of them in regards to salvation and the end of time.
Worst of all he thought that he knew where this dark new faith had come from, the accursed book that Father John had stolen so many years before.
Once again as in that past time, Roric felt that the Valley Landers were becoming isolated away from the rest of the world, while the forces of darkness gathered in the shadows.
Would it be a war fought with swords and arrows this time or something else?
More importantly was it a war that they would win?
One thing was certain; war was coming in one form or another. Movement caught Roric’s eye outside the window and he saw Talaric climbing up the stairs outside headed for the meeting that had been his responsibility to keep and not Larc’s.
Roric saw Larc headed down the stairs no doubt intending to stop him. Talaric made as if to pass, but Larc grabbed a hold of him and pulled him along back down the stairs. It was evident that the two were speaking heatedly with each other, but Talaric let Larc lead him away.
Inwardly Roric thanked Larc for keeping him from his oldest son. Today was one of those days when the iron control that he kept on his temper was wearing decidedly thin. Of all the other things going wrong, his oldest son’s antics were among his chief concern.
Where had the boy, who had idolized him and wanted to grow up to be just like him gone?
Mentally Roric ticked off some of the behaviors that Talaric had started manifesting in the past two years; tardiness, lying, causing fights, lack of discipline, not obeying orders, and most lately whoring.
He hadn’t told Krista about the latest addition, but she probably already knew. Roric examined himself for the thousandth time since this bad behavior had begun.
Was he a bad father?
Was he somehow to blame for all this?
He couldn’t see how he had modeled any of those behaviors to his son, quite the opposite actually. A cool hand slipped into his right hand and he looked to the side to see his lovely wife beside him. Her presence was always calming and he welcomed that relief especially right at this moment.
She drew into his side wrapping her arms around him and he wrapped his right arm around her shoulders and drew her tightly to him seeking the comfort of her embrace. They stared out the window together for a moment.
“Talaric he…”
Her hand came up and covered his mouth softly. “I know dear. I heard.” She said softly.
“Honey am I a bad father?”
“Of course not! Talaric is responsible for his own actions, not you. He is of an accountable age and you have only modeled the best behavior to him and all your children. Talaric knows what he is doing is wrong, but he’s choosing to rebel never the less.”
“Why? Doesn’t he know what’s at stake? And if that wasn’t enough, how can he walk out on his faith and us like he is?”
“He’s young and full of youthful desires and he’s simply making selfish choices. One day he’ll see that the way he’s behaving is costing him more than it’s worth and he’ll come back to us. What’s important for us to do is to keep loving him and praying for him.”
Krista moved around to stand in front of him and looked up at him with a serious look in her eyes, “If I could make a suggestion?”
“Always!”
“Don’t neglect your other children any longer. They need you too.”
“I know honey!” Roric said shaking his head in acknowledgement of his shortcoming.
“Now enough of all the dark thoughts I saw you stewing on when I came in here. Zarsha is waiting for you in the butterfly garden with some very good news and when you get caught up with her you know where you can find me.” She finished with a seductive purr.
Roric reached to grab her, but she danced back out of reach waving a finger no, while an impish grin played across her face.
He smiled and let her go; enjoying the view she gave him on her way out of the room. There was a lot to be grateful in his life, despite his son’s rebellion and it was time that he started living his life again. He left the meeting chamber and headed for the flower garden that was higher up in the castle complex.
Zarsha was waiting on a bench that sat alongside the trail through the flowers. She saw him coming up the path and jumped up with the grace of a wild doe and sprinted the rest of the way to him to envelope him in a bear hug that he laughingly returned in equal measure.
She drew back slightly, laughing herself and met his eyes. She didn’t have to look up either, because she was every bit as tall as he was. It was a little comical, when she was beside her husband, Captain Jansa.
He was shorter by several inches and of smaller build than she was, but they loved each other so what did it matter.
The smile on her face went to a frown, “Father?”
She reached out and touched the gray hairs starting to spring out everywhere.
“Never mind them. Tell me what’s the good news?” Roric said.
The smile returned to her face, “In seven months I’m going to make you a grandfather.”
Roric stared into her eyes entranced by what she had just said.
“Really?”
“Yes really Father!”
“Oh honey you shouldn’t be running around like you just did when you came up to me! You’ve got to take care of yourself!”
“I’m fine Father, but I’ll try to slow down just for you.”
Roric folded his arms around his oldest daughter again, but more gently this time.
“I’m so happy for you Zarsha! How’s the Captain feel about this new addition to your family?”
“He’s so excited! He won’t let me do anything for myself though!”
“That’s the way it should be, enjoy it. Now tell me everything.”
Roric feeling like a new man ambled down through the castle grounds towards the blacksmith shop, where he knew he had a good chance of finding either one or both of his twin sons.
It was late afternoon now. He had spent the rest of the morning with Zarsha and then he had ostensibly retired to his chambers for a quiet lunch with his wife. He couldn’t but help grin to himself as the memories of his luncheon date with his wife came back to him.
He wished all lunches with his lovely wife could last for three hours the way this one had. He looked up from the path before him to the blacksmith shop. From the pounding going on inside, at least one of his sons was here.
He pushed through the door and saw Gavin putting the finishing touches on a long dagger. Gavin looked up and was obviously surprised to see him here.
Roric stepped up to the work bench and studied the faultless creation of his son’s work, “Your work is of the finest that I’ve ever seen Gavin. You’re truly becoming a master at this.”
Gavin’s face flushed at the praise and he looked everywhere other than his father’s face.
“Do you have a moment Gavin? There’s something I need to tell you.”
Gavin set the long dagger he had been working on down and folded a cloth over it and then turned giving his father his full attention.
Roric smiled slightly and stepped up to his young giant and placed his hands on his shoulders. At fifteen Gavin was already as tall as him and something told him that he had inches to go yet.
“Son I need to apologize to you about something. I’ve done you and your brother a disservice as a father for quite a while now by not spending the time with you that I should have. I’m sorry. I’ve let other things get in the way of spending time with two fine emerging men, who I’m very proud of. I’ll try to do better.”
Gavin wasn’t big on showing emotion, which was why it surprised Roric, when he reached out and enfolded him with his arms in a clenching hug that spoke of a very deep emotional current. He felt his big quiet son’s forgiveness in the intensity of the hug and relished every moment of it. Gavin was a rock that he knew he could always rely on.
Gavin drew back and met his eyes with a directness that told Roric that his son was no longer a boy, but a man at heart, “I’m here for you Father, whenever you need me I’ll be there for you.”
A tear slipped down Roric’s cheek at his son’s words, “I know you will son.”
Roric slapped Gavin on the back and turned to leave. “Father I have a favor to ask of you.”
Now this was a surprise! Gavin hardly ever asked for anything.
“What is it son?”
“I was wondering if I might study your sword some, up close and here in the shop?”
Roric smiled, he had been wondering how long it was going to be before Gavin asked this of him.
“I’ll bring it by in the morning Gavin. And Gavin?”
“Yes Sir?”
“I’ll show you some things about it that I’ve never shown anyone else.”
Gavin’s eyes got big and he said, “Yes Sir!”
“Gavin where can I find your brother?”
“He’s at the practice field with Rolf.”
Roric nodded his head, and turned to leave knowing that he had made his son’s day. The thought of something stopped him though and he turned back to Gavin.
“Gavin?”
“Yes Sir.”
“I would presume that by studying my sword that you one day hope to create such a sword as it?”
Gavin nodded his head.
“Tell me who would you make such a sword for?”
Without hesitation Gavin responded, “Zevin.”
“Why son?”
Gavin hesitated and then said, “I think that one day he will do great things and need such a sword as yours.”
“I think your right Gavin. He couldn’t ask for a better brother than you or I a better son. See you at the banquet tonight Gavin.”
Roric closed the door and headed towards the practice fields reflecting on his son’s words as he went. Reaching the practice fields he saw Rolf leaning up against a column.
Rolf sensed him and turned slightly to view him approach. Rolf always seemed to have eyes in the back of his head it seemed. As Roric drew close to Rolf he could see Zevin practicing one of the sword rhythm dances.
A rhythm dance could be performed with a variety of weapons and consisted of the expected movements of a body and weapon in the synchronized motion of a battle.
Roric noticed, as he watched his son’s moves that Rolf had interjected quite a few arena styled moves into the Valley Lander choreographed dance of war.
Roric stopped beside Rolf and wasn’t surprised by the ab