Chapter 19: The Key of David

"Abba, there's no doubt about who it was. It was Telliam and he was in pain; he was frozen there. He was in...agony, Abba."

Jaomin was very upset. It was the day after his miraculous homecoming, and he was pleading what he saw as the significance of his and Caylene's discovery. The family - minus a sleeping Chion - were seated in the 'living room' on every available object, from chairs to crates. It was an uncomfortable gathering for it was crowded and, moreover, his audience was not very convinced by what he had been saying.

"Now stop me if I'm wrong," Maric interjected, "but from what I've heard of image crystals they only display things you've imagined yourself."

Regine nodded, "That's what I've heard myself. I've watched my brother playing with one before and that's how he said it worked."

"It is how they work," said Caylene, "but the stone isn't working the way it should." Since she was the only one who had used one of the stones before, she was the only one who could speak with first hand authority. "I didn't think it was working at all until Jao did whatever it was he did."

"Well," Maric asked his brother, "what did you do, brother?"

"Nothing. I just gave up trying and then - pop - there was Telliam."

"Maybe you were thinking of him without knowing it, Jao. The mind is a very strange instrument," Yason contributed.

"No," Jao shook his head emphatically, "I wasn't; I'm sure."

Everyone was quiet for a moment.

"Jaomin," Abba said quietly, "I don't know if it matters whether what you saw was real or your imagination." Jessef raised his hand to silence his youngest son, who had just opened his mouth to reply. "No, listen, son. I don't think it matters, because even if Telliam, personally, doesn't need help all Grenwilde does."

"If Telliam is in some particular danger," Jessef continued, "your...vision...didn't give a clue to his location, did it?"

Jao shook his head.

"So, you can't go directly to him, but you must go directly to the king. Jaomin, you must go and fight with the vulgraths."

There was a moment of stunned silence, broken at last by a single word.

"NO!" Caylene shouted. Everyone turned to her. She went red to the roots of her hair. She was as surprised as anyone by her outburst, but having begun she doggedly continued, "Begging your pardon, Master Bindaved, but what you're saying shows you haven't grasped what everyone else has been saying. These vulgrath things have burned three cities to nothing, sir. Jaomin wouldn't have a chance." She turned her attention to Jaomin, "and I'm not saying this, Jaomin, because you're only a young man; no one would have a chance. It's not possible..."

"Caylene," Jessef interrupted, "you forget or perhaps haven't been told that I do know what these creatures can do. I saw Cair burned - so did all my boys, except Jao, here. I think you're right that it is a very dangerous thing I'm proposing. But," and here he tapped his knee with his finger, "Jao's the only one who has any chance. Consider the following things: first, the horse - Sky-rider - chose Jao, the two of them make a very formidable team, I would say; secondly, this sword Jao is using has remarkable properties, it seems to teach the one who wields it; thirdly, and most importantly, Sky-rider's winged. Without wings you can't fight these creatures. Put all these things together and I argue that we are seeing a special providence. The Creator has sent this creature to meet the need of this hour, the need of all Grenwilde. And there's another thing, even if I say it as his father, Jao's as brave as a lion. There's a dead catamin and a score or so killed desigarg give proof of that."

Regine gently spoke, "Jao, what do you think?"

Jao was sitting looking down at his hands, the posture he had assumed when his father began to first propose the terrifying idea of his fighting the vulgraths.

He looked up at them now and spoke very quietly, "I don't know about fighting the vulgraths; if Abba says I should try, I'm willing. But I do know Telliam needs me, I'm sure of it. Maybe fighting the vulgraths and helping Telliam are all part of the same thing."

Yason and Maric nodded their heads. "Well, little brother," said Yason smiling, "looks like things are reversed. Little brother goes to war and his older brothers are left wondering if he's alive or not."

Jao looked at him, "Well, now you can do for me what I've done for you: pray."

"I will," said Yason seriously, "but I think you're better at that then I am."

"And maybe," said Jessef slowly, but with emphasis, "that's why Jaomin has been chosen - not just by Sky-rider, but by Him who sent the winged horse. To my way of thinking it all fits like a key in a lock."

a8b

Caylene was getting ready to leave. She was very angry. It had been so nice to have a family, a nice family. But although she was genuinely fond of Regine and - she admitted reluctantly to herself - Jaomin, she was not about to stay in the home of a man who would sacrifice his youngest son to certain death! She packed up her saddle pouches with a vigour born of anger.

"Stupid old man!" she muttered to herself. A soft knocking at the door interrupted her.

"Caylene?" Regine's voice called through the closed door.

"Yes."

Pushing the door slightly ajar, Regine poked her head into the opening. "Can I come in and talk to you for a while?" The farmhouse was very tiny with only three bedrooms and a living room kitchen area. Regine had arranged things so that Caylene had her own room. Caylene slumped onto her bed and nodded her lowered head.

"You're leaving?" Regine queried gently.

"Yes, I am," Caylene replied evenly and a little belligerently.

Regine came and crouched down in front of her. "Don't," said the older girl simply.

"Why not, Regine?" Caylene looked up with flaming eyes.

Regine smiled, "Homes aren't that easy to come by."

"I could never feel at home here. Not after what's happened today."

"You mean what Abba said to Jaomin?"

"Of course," Caylene snapped impatiently.

"Caylene, I don't know what you feel for Jaomin..."

"I don't feel anything for Jaomin! I just don't think a father can do something like that to his own son!"

"Caylene, you don't know Master Bindaved like I do. He loves Jaomin more than anyone else could."

"Hah! He has a fascinating way of showing it!"

Regine let that go by, "Many years ago, when Jaomin was only three years of age, Jessef Bindaved's wife walked out on him. No one knows why or where she went."

Caylene looked at Regine, interested in spite of herself.

"Yason says that Jaomin looks almost exactly like his mother, says Abba's always treated Jaomin like," she searched for words, "like a living reminder of his wife. Abba loved his wife more than anything in the world. He is a very kind man. He loves all of his boys dearly, but Jaomin is the apple of his eye."

Caylene opened her mouth but Regine cut her off.

"Do you really think that what you - or I - or anyone else might feel for Jaomin is anything beside what his father feels?"

"But how could he say what he said then, Regine?"

"He said it because it's true."

Caylene frowned.

"Not every true thing is a nice thing, Caylene. Every one of his seven sons would lay down his life for his king and country. Some may already have done so; we have no way of knowing. Why should Jao be any different?"

Caylene struggled with this idea, "Is any country worth that?"

Regine thought for a moment. "Maybe it's not; I don't know. But would you like the desigarg to come here? If everyone selfishly refuses to sacrifice isn't that what will happen?" she ended with a sigh. "It might well happen anyway."

The young girl looked out the window. Two robins were spinning about in the air above the newly ploughed field. It must be a great place for them to find worms, she thought. She wasn't a robin and she didn't care for worms. However, in her heart, she didn't want to leave. She wanted to stay here with these kind people.

Regine stood up to come and sit down beside her. "Tell me, Caylene, if you were in Jao's place, what would you do?"

"Me?" Caylene smiled thinking about what she'd do. "I'd get on Sky's back and fly far, far away - where no one could follow."

Regine laughed gently, "That's what makes women smarter than men!" Then she leaned close and whispered quietly, "Would you go by yourself?"

Caylene smiled. Ever so slightly she shook her head.

a8b

"You'll need armour, Jao," Maric said rooting around in the chest he had brought from the old farm. "It won't stop flame but it might foil a sword stroke or two."

"At least I won't die naked!" Jaomin had visions of falling from the sky - all his clothes burned off - and landing in a rather messy pile. Somehow the whole picture was more endurable if he had some clothing on.

Maric looked up, throwing a gauntlet on his bed. "You're a real fool, boy," he drawled, using his best Sergeant Sarta voice. Both boys laughed. Somehow the whole idea of fighting fire-breathing creatures -- when viewed from a distance -- was so insane that it produced more laughter than fear. Jao knew it would different soon.

Only two days had passed since Chion and company had arrived at the Bindaved farm, yet Jaomin was preparing to leave before nightfall. No one else had quite his sense of urgency, for they didn't share his conviction about the meaning of the picture he'd seen in the stone. However, he had persuaded Abba that he must leave immediately. His father had conceded that it would be best if he left as soon as he could, adding quietly to himself that he didn't want to have the moment hanging over his head any longer than was necessary.

At last Jaomin was provisioned, equipped, armed, prayed over and ready to leave. Maric had given him the image crystal since only he could make it work, but Jaomin had other ideas about what to do with it.

Each family member hugged him in turn - Chion had saved a really good mouthful of goober for Jao's nose. Something for his uncle to remember him by!

He came last of all to Jessef, "Son," his father said, "I'm very proud of you and pleased with you. Don't be afraid, pray constantly, try not to day-dream and - if at all possible - send home word about your brothers."

Jaomin nodded, and then he hugged his father and turned to leave. But before he mounted Sky-rider, he walked over to Caylene and handed her the image crystal.

"What's this for?" she said.

"Well, I don't know how to make it work anyway. I was hoping maybe you could. If it really tells about what's happening to other people, like it seemed to tell me about my brother, maybe it'll be useful."

She nodded, smiled and looked down at it. Suddenly she gave him a quick hug and a kiss on his cheek, "Thanks, Jao," she whispered. She stood there, still holding his arms and said quietly, "Look after yourself, please, stupid." Before he could respond she turned swiftly around and ran into the house.

Normally Maric would have teased his brother unmercifully for a scene even half that embarrassing, but somehow just now he didn't think he'd better.

Moments later the shepherd boy who had been given a gift of wings and a mission of great danger, wheeled above the remote farm shouting down farewells to his waving family. But he rode for a long way east before he thought of anything other than Caylene's beautiful tear-filled face, her soft kiss, her embrace and her earnest words. Maybe stupid wasn't such a bad name after all.

a8b

Caylene was not thinking of Jaomin. She was busy calling herself stupid for being an emotional idiot; she sat on her bed trying to blot the whole thing from her memory. To recall embarrassing moments is frequently more vexing than even the memory of actual wrongdoing. She needed something to help her forget.

Beside her, on the crate to the left of her bed, sat the copy of the Runes of Truth from which Jaomin had read to her only a week or so earlier. It seemed so much longer ago than that.

She picked the book up and flipped it open and began reading. Her eyes nearly popped when she realised where the book had opened:

My righteous child shall not be burned, though he walks through fire; Though nations fall in flame, he will not be consumed. The smell of fire will not come upon him... My righteous child shall mount up above his foes; Though cities collapse in ruin, his wings will be faith and hope...

Suddenly, she saw how it was all connected to Jaomin. It was as if she watched puzzle pieces falling into place of their own accord. But could Jaomin, or anyone else, really be so important? So important that men in distant times had known about him? 'Oh, Creator,' she prayed hesitantly, 'I don't know whether this is a... whatever it is that people call those things, a sign. But please, oh please, keep Jaomin safe."

Somehow, after she prayed, her embarrassment was forgotten. Does prayer help you face yourself? She wondered. She had made her first tiny step towards an understanding of life and of herself. Settling back on the bed, she started to read.

a8b

"Where you, Jafra?"

Meda and Jaffar wheeled around and stared intently into the fog. Where had that voice come from? In the same way as the uncanny scream, which had come only moments before, it seemed to come from everywhere. But this voice was very quiet and familiar; Jaffar and Meda both knew that voice.

"Hector?" Meda called.

"Meta," came the tiny voice out of everywhere. "why're you?"

"Hector," Jaffar called out, "Can you hear us?"

"You voice 'yittle," came the somewhat cryptic response.

"We're here, Hector, can you follow the sound of our voices?"

Hector looked down at his feet in the darkness. He could see a small stone on the ground. He picked it up and held it close to his eye. From inside there was a very faint glow.

"Can you follow the sound of our voices?" bellowed Jaffar.

"You in 'tone?" said Hector, his voice rising in mystified surprise.

Hector's voice was much louder now, but didn't seem any nearer. It still seemed to originate from all around them.

"What did you say, Hector?" Meda yelled.

"You 'yittle squeak, squeak in 'tone!" Hector said in amazement. Even by Hector's standards of possibility this seemed pretty far-fetched.

"Can you come to us?"

"You want Hector come in 'tone?"

"What's 'tone?" Jaffar asked Meda.

She thought for a second, "Are we in a stone, Hector?"

"Uh-hm. How you get 'yittle?"

Meda and Jaffar looked at each other. What did it all mean?

"Want me take you back hyome?"

"Can you do that, Hector?" Jaffar asked bewildered.

"Chure."

"Please do," said Jaffar.

"Oh, thank." said Hector.

Jaffar looked at Meda, who shrugged. For a long time, or at least it seemed long to the knights, Meda and Jaffar stood peering around them, while nothing at all happened. Jaffar was just on the point of calling out, when suddenly, in an explosion of fragrance, music and colour, he and Meda burst like pebbles out of a bubble, thrown into the Land of Loridan. When they collected their senses they were standing with Tagar and Callais on the Hill of Portals. Beside them, on the grass, sat a surprised and forlorn looking angel. But nowhere was there any sign of Hector.

Meda was about to speak to Noma, when Jaffar gasped and clutched her arm:

"Meda," said Jaffar, "The Rune Stone is moved!"

Both knights stood staring at the Place of Wonders, seeing a wonder neither would have believed possible - the High Portal was open!

a8b

To fly across the skies like a bird is one of the great dreams of mankind, a dream that - as far as Jaomin knew - he was the first ever to realise. It was very like a dream, but an extremely chilly one.

He discovered fairly early on the first day of his flight that the higher you went the colder it got. It was also hard to breathe when he went too high. He had, in fact, become quite light-headed before he realised what must be happening and descended. He tried to keep Sky-rider about two hundred feet above the ground. This was difficult, for the horse -- left to himself -- liked to dive and weave among the trees. When Sky-rider behaved and he was cruising at Jaomin's chosen height, his rider had a great view, miles and miles in every direction. He had decided to fly above the Wilderness Way, not that he needed the road for any other purpose than to keep his direction. As a result a solitary traveller, heading that day towards Bonaira Vis, in a slightly inebriated condition, saw a man on a flying horse. On the spot he vowed never to taste a drop of liquor again.

In four hours Jaomin and Sky arrived at the fork that connected the Wilderness Way to the South Way and the High Road to Cair Galinal; this distance had taken Nina and him more than two days to travel earlier! About three miles further east, Jaomin could see a lake, nestled invitingly down among a forest of deciduous trees. It was coming on towards sunset and Jao thought, that if he could find an open place to bring Sky in to land, that the lake's shore would be a perfect spot to spend the night.

Fortunately, a small beach - perhaps thirty feet long - was visible. In a matter of minutes they had landed and, while Sky-rider relaxed, Jaomin prepared camp for the night. The young adventurer felt confident that he should be able to reach the Western Hills sometime early the next morning.

a8b

Although Balla Luba had a large, uncluttered heart, her mind was even fuzzier than her body. The giant arlor had woken with one thought in her mind: geezle berries. Now one thought is about as much as any arlor, even in her most inspired moments, can hang on to. But when that thought is an odour, it drives every thing out of the temple. It might be objected that an odour isn't a thought. But to an arlor an odour is a prelude to taste, and taste is the highest form of thinking their minds admit. And, if we are honest, even in man an odour can summon a past event so vividly that we see faces and hear voices long lost to us. To an arlor, whose memory is so short that she experiences all things as new, a delight as sharp as a geezle berry is a novel surprise forty-nine days running.

Balla Luba's nose was as sensitive to the varieties of smell a geezle berry can emit as a human ear is to the voices of different people. Right now, the berries had reached such succulent ripeness the odour alone sent shivers of glorious ecstasy down to the centre of Balla Luba's being. One geezle berry at this point of perfection was enough to make her oblivious to everything, except the need of another geezle berry; deep calls to deep.

But as the giant creature lumbered out onto the porch of her cave she caught a horrible stench wafting up to her on the morning air. Her nose whiffled and snuffed. She snorted trying to push the odour away from her nose. It persisted. The stifling odour dragged her focus towards the base of the valley.

Balla Luba froze on the spot. Although she had no idea of good and evil, she certainly did concerning sweet and sour. The sight in the valley was the sourest she'd ever beheld.

In a highly agitated state, Balla Luba swung her arms backwards and forwards. She turned and lumbered back into the cave. Singing the Song of Poison, which arlor use to warn one another of danger.

Nizzle Par immediately woke from his sound sleep, as did Nalitha. The male arlor stood up and swung his arms backwards and forwards, arms so long they trailed across the ground like skipping ropes. He joined the chorus of warning. Nalitha frowned at her friends. She knew their language and song well enough to sense the general meaning of what they communicated.

She sang her question to them. The closest English rendering of her question would be, "What makes the berry bitter?"

The storm of swinging arms and agitation, usually known as Balla Luba, sang her answer. Nalitha looked concerned and walked quickly but cautiously out of the spacious cave. She couldn't see anything immediately, but even she could smell the reek of decay. Carefully peering over the lip of the ledge, she beheld a vision of pure horror hanging suspended - like a rotten garment - from a tree at the shore of the Mirror of Visions.

Nalitha could no more have put a name to the creature than could Balla Luba, but she knew very well what it was. It looked like a bat, but distorted and enlarged - stretched into mammoth dimensions. The pine tree on which it was hanging upside down was bent nearly double. Even stationary the revolting thing must have been twenty or twenty-five feet long from end to end. Nalitha dared not linger for a better look.

She slipped quietly back into the cave. This creature's coming could only mean one thing - she had been discovered.