Chapter 18: White Rider

Nine acres cleared and seven seeded; he'd sow the other two tomorrow. Jessef unhitched Wisdom from the plough, shaking his head as he did so. For all his might, Wisdom wasn't nearly as useful as Nina when it came to breaking up ground. It wasn't the horse's fault; this wasn't what he was bred for. Probably Jessef should have broken his own rule and loaned his warhorse to Jaomin.

As he led Wisdom away from the field and towards the lean-to, he searched the hills to the south and east. The boy was a day late, which was not good news. Had he stayed to fool about in the town, was he dallying on the road or had he bought himself trouble somewhere?

Jessef was not the kind of man to spend his time fretting about things he couldn't control. Having boys in the army during a war was a recipe for bereavement; the man with children gives hostages to chance.

But Jessef was not one to be held to ransom. He had always given his life to his king. He expected his boys to do no less.

Despite this, he felt he might have made a rash mistake in letting Jaomin go alone to West Ganariel. He had indeed proved his bravery and prowess, but his thoughts were prone to wander. Jessef feared that his youngest son would be an easy target for desigarg ambush.

He glanced towards the southwest. It looked like a storm was approaching, and - in fact - already a light sprinkling of rain had begun to fall. Marichael was all but invisible from this distance, where he sat under the shadow of the hills at the west end of the valley. Maric was supposed to be tending the sheep, but he wasn't well suited to the work. He had a great deal of energy and sitting around watching animals graze drove him to distraction. Jessef had laughed as he watched him set out that morning carrying a sack with all their knives, two of the axes, his sword and a whetstone. Maric intended to redeem the time by sharpening all these various implements.

Jessef was about to call Marichael home, when a pungent odour of decay brought his head sharply about. He stared southward into the wind. As an old campaigner, who had led strategic raiding parties into the Lands of Desolation he was well familiar with that revolting stench. Desigarg, he was certain of it; nothing else in the world smelled like that, but where were they?

He had feared discovery, and now it had come.

What was it best for him to do? To whistle a signal to Maric would almost certainly alert the gargs. If they were beyond the crest of the valley's hills, that would be foolish and fatal. On the other hand, if they'd already surveyed the homestead, they might be circling to the west to catch Maric and the flock of sheep before they had a chance to move. If he didn't alert his son, Maric might be trapped in the open fields by mounted enemies.

Quickly he went into the lean-to, seized Wisdom's reins and snatched his sword from its mountings - dropping the sheath. He then hurtled himself onto the horse's bare back, turned its head and began to gallop towards the open fields and his son.

He had covered less than a third of the distance when he saw the desigarg, fifteen or more cresting the hill to the west. If they had meant an ambush, they had misjudged Maric's position, for they were a hundred yards to the south of him. Still, Jessef's heart sank, for he was a half-mile away.

"Maric, Run! Look out!"

He saw Maric look at him for one beat then jump to his feet looking about himself quickly. His eyes picked out the gargs just as they began charging towards him, screaming their hideous raucous war cry as they came. He snatched his sword from the pile of knives and ran as hard as he could towards Jessef.

There was no chance, Jessef knew. And after he'd run five or six paces the same thought must have occurred to Maric, for he whirled around to face his charging enemy - sword in hand, prepared to die but not without taking some company to the grave.

Jessef, bearing down at speed, could only catch a glimpse of what Maric did. But he seemed to dive to one side of a troll-beast just as the enemy thundered down upon him.

Suddenly, the most baffling, unaccountable thing happened. A white blur dropped out of the skies into the flank of the desigarg. It swooped across the tail-most members of the raiding party, smiting them with the speed of a lightning bolt. It all happened so quickly that Jessef's eyes could hardly follow the chain of events, but suddenly three troll-beasts were riderless.

"What in creation!" Jessef exclaimed, drawing up his mount in surprise, not a hundred yards from the spectacle; a mounted horse, with wings! It couldn't be. But the next instant he mastered his amazement and plunged on. Whatever this white rider might be or mean, Jessef could see Maric lying stretched out on the grass and he would save his son or die beside him.

If Jessef was amazed by this winged wonder the gargs were every bit as amazed or more so, for their astonishment was charged with the catalyst of terror. It has been noted earlier that desigarg are not particularly brave, but even the most fearless warrior would find the sight of Sky-rider alarming in the extreme. A streak of white-hot vengeance, travelling at speeds not seen in nature, stormed towards the startled garg ranks. Forgetting everything, they fled in all directions. But they didn't move fast enough to save two more of their number.

One of the routed enemy, eyes wide and screaming with terror, was coming straight for Jessef. The patriarch of the Bindaved clan raised both his sword and his battle cry to greet it. He decapitated the garg but lost his mount in the effort - for having no stirrups the jolt pulled him off of Wisdom's back and sent him sprawling. With a bone rattling impact, Jessef smashed backwards into the ground. For a moment he retained consciousness, then the world exploded into fragments, and his mind slipped into darkness.

a8b

Put plainly, the simple image crystal Chion was sucking upon became the great Seeing Crystal. For the chattels of the Great King - he whose right it is to rule - come to him in their appointed times. Yet the bestowal had come at great cost: Nalitha Mother was exposed to the Prince of Night. The Demiurge, in great fury, had seen her.

It is a humbling thing for people to think about knowledge, for knowledge is infinite but our capacity to know is not. Do you see a man proud of his knowledge? Be sure, he has not learned enough; he does not yet know the value of his understanding. For in relation to all that can be known, the greatest collection of understanding is only gaping poverty.

In a real sense, it is not how much you know that matters, it is the manner in which you hold the knowledge you possess. A little known with humility is greater than all knowledge with arrogance.

And so it was in the war between Nalitha and the Demiurge. The Demiurge had felt himself to be standing secure at every crossroads, the Master of the Crystals. In this, he had deluded himself, for neither he nor the crystals were what he thought.

The Mother Crystal was only the frozen likeness of the Mirror of Visions. That which is a picture of a reality must - by its nature - be lesser than the thing it portrays. To be certain, the Mother Crystal was more knowable. Here was something that could be bisected, analysed, pinned down, broken up and utilized -- something to warm the hearts of the arrogant. Not so the flowing waters of the King's Chalice.

Nalitha knew herself to be standing beneath the hand of the One from whom all things come and for whom all things exist. She was the mother of the Great King. And the heart of the King was a river of life in the hand of God; He turned it wherever He willed. She humbly knew, that the King's Chalice contained the flowing knowledge of His forever and becoming will.

This truth has been known and forgotten; in the first years of every world, the High Kings divined by the use of these Living Chalices. As times passed, the practice was fondly retained in the form of divining cups. So did the kings of earth, Grenwilde and all the lower worlds; so did Joseph - he who was greater than kings. Time passes and men turn from what must be bestowed to that which can be manipulated.

The issues of life within the true King's Chalice were the prophetic lifeblood of the world. By these Nalitha sat patiently and faithfully praying; waiting upon the Creator's pleasure, for Him to bestow insights.

The great crystals, on the other hand, were the frozen remembrance of the Creator's intention. His intention was, from the first perfect, but the remembrance was not. All crystals are flawed. The minutest mote of dust within their frozen hearts can refract understanding, and lead the mind some distance from the truth. Yet they contained great insights and by means of them the Demiurge attacked, twisted and re-routed the substance of creation.

But when the child whose right it is to rule, put within his mouth the fragment of the Child Crystal, the crystal knew its Master. The Mother's powers flowed to the Child - the Mother conceived, was destroyed and only the Child remained.

But in the process the Demiurge was made aware. He was made aware of the human mother, aware of the child and aware that his time was short. It cannot be said that this knowledge brought the humility that it should have, but it can be said that it enraged and inspired its possessor.

a8b

Like a bubble percolating up from the bottom of a dark pool, Jessef's mind struggled towards consciousness. His eyes slid open to admit a confusing montage of colour and blurred images. He could feel a gentle hand dabbing his forehead with a damp cloth. Oh, how his head hurt. His eyes struggled to find their focus. A blurred face began to resolve itself into clarity. But could it be -- those beautiful eyes, delicate features and black ringleted hair?

"Nalitha?" he said faintly.

"Shh, sir. Please, just lie quietly," came a soft voice.

Nalitha, how are you here? Jessef tried to sit up, but his head felt like a very busy blacksmith had opened shop it in. "Oh, ouch!"

"No, please don't, Master Bindaved," she turned and spoke over her shoulder. "Yason, your dad's coming round."

Jessef heard the sound of a chair being moved and the next instant, his son was standing over him smiling warmly down at him, but with evident concern on his face.

"Yason! Son, it's so good to see you!" Jessef said weakly but happily. Then a cloud drifted over his gaze, "Maric, how is he?"

"Abba, he'll be fine. Regine's tending to him now. He took a glancing blow to the arm, but he's already awake and chattering."

Jessef made another abortive effort to sit up but collapsed back on the makeshift couch. His head ached terribly. But so many questions rose in his mind, he couldn't simply relax. "What...who?"

Yason put a gentle hand of restraint on his father's shoulder. "You'll just have to rest, Abba. I'll explain everything later."

Jessef grimaced and his eyes rested on the face of the young girl at his side. Who was she? Had he called her Nalitha? She was very beautiful, but now that he was fully awake he could see that she wasn't greatly similar to Nalitha; the resemblance had been created, he supposed, by the combination of his desire and a superficial likeness.

"Hello," he said quietly.

She smiled at him timidly, "Hello."

"I'm sorry," said Yason hastily, "Father, this is Caylene Mattrik; Caylene, my Father, Jessef Bindaved."

"I'm pleased to meet you, sir."

"Welcome to our house - such as it is," said Jessef, quaintly. It wasn't the sort of place to entertain in, he realised.

"Thank you, sir."

Jessef frowned - remembering something that seemed clearly impossible, "I must have really hit my head hard. Do you know, Yason, I thought I saw a man on a flying horse! But..." Jessef stopped. How had he been rescued? He wondered.

Yason raised one brow and looked at Caylene, "Well, Father, you actually did see a flying horse, and...uh," Yason looked at his father carefully, "Jaomin was flying it."

"What! Ouch!" yelling wasn't a good idea just now. "Jaomin?"

Yason nodded, "Jaomin, come here. Abba's awake."

Jaomin hurried into the main room - carrying his little nephew. He leaned over his father, and gave him a one-armed hug, "Abba!"

"Jao, what...is that my granddaughter?" Flying horses were driven from the sky of his imagination by the sudden appearance of a grandchild.

"Chion - Abba, your grandson," interjected Yason.

Jessef's face split into a very large smile, as he reached out his arms, "Come here little fella! Let's see if you're good enough to keep."

As he took him in his arms, Regine came in looking very pleased. She walked to Yason's side, slipping an arm around his waist. "Hello, Abba."

"Regine, my dear! But what do you mean giving me another boy? Weren't my instructions clear?"

"Well, Abba, I can't bring myself to say sorry. I just love him too much to say that."

Jessef held Chion upright in a sitting position, placing him on his stomach. "Did you hear that, young man? Your mother loves you. Now why would that be I wonder?" Jessef lay there grinning at the baby who suddenly, for reasons known only to himself, popped an enormous smile. "Ah," said Jessef, "I begin to see, I think."

Regine came over and knelt beside the couch. She gave her father-in-law a kiss on the cheek. And sat there enjoying the sight of him enjoying her son.

Suddenly, a peculiar look came over Jessef's face, "A flying horse!"

"I was kind of hoping I could keep him, Abba," Jaomin said, looking down at him from behind Regine.

Everyone burst out laughing. The sudden noise made Chion cry, which redoubled the laughter. Regine, scolded them all and took him, and holding him tightly said, "You're going to have to learn to deal with noise, if you're going to survive in this house, Chion."

"Where, where did you find such a creature of myth and legend, son?" Jessef asked bewildered.

"Actually, Abba, Sky-rider found me."

Jaomin told the whole story, starting in West Ganariel with the mystery of the murdered man. Carefully, and tastefully, he wove in the important facts about Caylene. During the course of the tale Marichael - who hadn't yet heard all of the particulars - walked into the room, his right arm in a sling. Taken as a whole, even without the arrival of a miracle horse, it was a remarkable story. It seemed as if gigantic protective hands had sheltered all of them.

"And because I knew I was late, I decided to fly ahead of the others this afternoon," Jaomin paused. "Now I'm glad I did."

Jessef had listened with rapt attention. When Jao finished speaking they sat silently for a moment. Each realised how well the Creator had looked after them all. Jessef looked at each face in turn. "Let's give thanks," he said, which - from very grateful hearts - they did, not forgetting to ask the Creator to spread his wings of protection around the members of their family not present with them.

a8b

It was Alexander Pope who warned that the altar is no refuge from the voice of fools. That those same will rush in where angels fear to set foot. To this I would like to humbly add that children often go where angels cannot follow. Certainly this is what had happened to Noma.

Again and again and again, the mighty angel swept down into the portal, only to be repeatedly repulsed. For as often as he pointed towards the portal and flew into the portal, he found himself pointed from and flying out of the portal. He did not know why. But he did know, and it caused him concern, that he could not fulfil his charge; where Hector had gone he was unable to follow.

All Noma could do was to sit by the opening, wait and pray.

To think of Hector as just a little boy walking through the darkness would be to think inaccurately. But he was little, and it was dark.

For a while he stood at the bottom of the hole looking up at the circle of light. It was very high up. He waited for Noma but Noma didn't come. Well, Hector couldn't wait any more; he was going to find Meda and Jaffar.

"You down here, Meta?" he waited and listened, nothing. "Where you, Jafra?"

Then, Hector heard a very loud cry. It was very strange and frightening; it seemed to come from everywhere in the darkness around him. For just a moment Hector was afraid. He hadn't been afraid for as long as he could remember.

But at the same moment, in the distance, he saw a flicker of light. "You there, Meta? You make light go like this?" he said opening and closing his eyes.

While there was still no answer, Hector was sure it must be his friends so he started to walk towards the light.

a8b

Jessef was standing in the late evening light, smoking his pipe and thoughtfully stroking Sky-rider's forehead. What a remarkable and beautiful animal, he thought. What could his appearance mean? He was certainly not an animal found in nature.

The old man knew that the desigarg were some sort of interbreeding accomplished between animal and human forms. Moreover, he knew that the Land of Darkness had spawned many creatures that were hybrids between incompatible seeds. The troll-beasts were believed to be the result of crossing some horned lizard and a mule or horse. No one was sure. No one knew, either, how these fiendish mergers were accomplished.

But looking at the noble face, glowing coat and wings of Sky-rider, Jessef was certain he had no tincture of evil in him. What was he? Where had he come from? A thought occurred to him, an interesting thought. He wondered if...

"Abba?" it was Regine's voice, "are you out here?"

"Yes, my dear, I am."

"Could you hold Chion for a while? Caylene and I are trying to wash up the dishes and he's trying to drown himself in the wash tub."

Abba smiled, "Well, I guess I could put up with him for a while."

Regine handed the child to his grandfather, "Thanks, Abba." As she turned back to enter the house, she nearly banged into Marichael coming out.

"Oh, sorry, Maric. How's the arm?"

"Getting better, sister. Thanks to your know how."

"Nonsense, Caylene is the real nurse around here," she patted his cheek, swept by him and went back to her work.

Maric ambled out of the door and over to where Abba was standing.

Jessef was holding Chion and looking at the winged horse thoughtfully. This was fine with Chion, who appeared to be trying to rip out Sky-rider's mane. The glow demanded that this animal be eaten immediately!

"He's unbelievable, isn't he, Abba?"

Abba nodded his head. He seemed to Maric to be very sad.

"I asked Jaomin if I could ride him when my arm got better. He said I could try. When I asked him what that was supposed to mean, Yason told me that Sky won't let anyone but Jao ride him. Really strange isn't it?"

Abba had already heard this interesting fact from Regine, "Maric, what do you think this animal means?"

"Pardon, Abba?"

"What I'm driving at is that here we are, Grenwilde I mean, at a place where we are totally defenceless against these vulgrath creatures, and now he," Abba jerked his head towards Sky-rider, "just suddenly appears. You could fight vulgraths from his back, Maric."

Maric thought for a moment, then he said slowly, "You could, Abba, if he'd let you ride him."

Abba nodded. Only Jaomin could ride him. "You saw the sword, did you, Maric?"

"Yes, Jao showed it to me. I've never seen one like it, Abba. Jao says it's as light as wood. But he wouldn't let me hold it. Do you know why?"

"I do, Yason told me."

They both stared at the great winged animal. Chion continued to pull manfully at Sky's mane. The horse didn't appear to care.

Maric looked at his father, "Are you thinking that Jao should try to fight those things?"

"No," said Abba as he tapped out his pipe, "I'm trying to think of a good reason why he shouldn't." He handed Chion to Maric and walked into the house.

a8b

Jao and Caylene sat beside each other at the kitchen table peering down at what had once been an image crystal.

"You're supposed to be able to just imagine something and it appears right there," she said poking her finger at the unresponsive tablet.

Jao shrugged, "Could I try?" He wanted to get it working. He had seen how disappointed Maric had been.

Abba paused on his way into the house and glanced over at his son and the young girl. He frowned. He did not approve of that crystal thing they were staring at, but since it wasn't working anyway - as he had been told - he couldn't think of a reason to object to it. 'Keep your 'no's' to the minimum,' had been one of Nalitha's sayings.

"You put one hand on each side and then just concentrate on an idea, person, thing or whatever," Caylene instructed him.

Jao thought; he concentrated very hard. Nothing. Only swirling colours and objects swimming in a milky sea. He closed his eyes to try harder.

"What are you thinking of?" Caylene asked.

"My old home," he answered.

"Well, it's not working, you might as well...oh!" Caylene said in surprise.

"What?" Jao said opening his eyes and looking at the stone.

"It's gone."

"What's gone?"

"There was this man standing there for a moment. What were you thinking about?" Caylene asked.

"Nothing, I just gave up. Then you said, 'Oh'."

"Well, let's try again. Think of nothing," Caylene said.

Jao put his hands on the edges of the stone and tried to clear his mind of thoughts. Thinking of nothing is a difficult matter, however. The stone continued to swirl with colours and fractured objects. Yet, just as he gave up, a figure appeared in the crystal. This time Jaomin saw it as well.

"There!" cried Caylene. The object wavered but continued to stand there in the crystal. It was a man, his face contorted in agony but standing perfectly still. The pain seemed alive but the man appeared to be a statue or dead.

Jaomin stood up his mouth wide open. The man in the crystal was his brother, Telliam.

a8b

"Do you see that man, Jenna?"

Jenna and the Seer of the Mountains stood on the Shore of Oracles and peered down into Wisdom's Mirror.

"Yes, Aralia," she replied timidly, "I do."

"That is the man you must free."

The little prophetess looked up quizzically at the wrinkled countenance of the Seer.

"How?"

Aralia of Wisdom looked from Jenna towards Melchizedek. Only Melchizedek could answer that question. This was not because Aralia didn't know, but because about this matter it was his right to speak.

Melchizedek crouched down beside Jenna. "Little princess, would you like to fly?"

Jenna's very wide eyes got wider than he'd ever seen them before.