Chapter 27: The Sons of Jessef Bindaved

As first light approached the three riders were already on the road. With each passing day they urged their animals to greater speed, as the sense of urgency in all three of them grew. Even Maric, who admitted having very little in the way of spiritual capacity, felt an inner urging to get on. Somehow all three sensed that time was critical; that they must get to the Western Hills.

Then, just west and north of Pen Abara Dis, on the High Road to Cair, an uncanny thing happened. They had stopped to rest and water their horses at a branch of the East Elb. Caylene, purely at a whim, had pulled out the spy crystal from her saddlebag. (She had taken to calling it a 'spy crystal' for it seemed an apt description of what it did.) She had barely laid hands on it, when a frightening image leapt onto its surface.

An enormous man with lizard-like skin filled the whole image surface. He was walking below the shadow of the Great Wall, peering at it closely. She cried out for Maric and Yason. The two brothers were crouched by the river drinking. At the young girl's alarmed scream they quickly raced over to where she was standing.

They arrived at the moment of the Nygrath's masterstroke. All three had watched in mute unbelief, seeing the destruction of the Great Wall. The ground had opened up, like a cloth being torn. Within three minutes not one stone of the Wall was anywhere to be seen.

The three young people looked on in horror. The ground of Grenwilde had swallowed the Wall whole.

And then, emerging from the maelstrom of destruction it had caused, the Death Nygrath strode clearly into view. Maric and Yason instantly recognized the face as that of their brother, Telliam. They had no notion that Telliam had died. Seeing him transformed into this monstrous creature was worse by far than stumbling across his dead body.

His face was etched with bitter tragedy, a tragedy that had been worked into the very creases of his face. It was the face of one who had suffered unimaginable atrocities and wrongs without the hint of consolation. And in his eyes there was a fire of determination; such a fire as it seemed could only be extinguished by seeing the blood of his oppressors spilled. It was a countenance of mania, a harbinger of woe to all whom had caused it grief.

The expression was so unlike Telliam's that for a moment Yason told himself that the likeness was merely due to his own imagination. How could this be his brother? Could this truly be the noble Telliam?

Yet in his heart he knew it was.

"How could this possibly happen?" Maric asked, his words closely echoing Yason's thoughts.

Yason shook his head; he was nearly numb with dread and unbelief.

"You know him?" Caylene asked looking at the two boys in turn. As neither brother spoke, she turned her attention back to the crystal, looking carefully at the face. Suddenly she gasped. "It's the man Jaomin and I saw. It's..." she looked up suddenly.

"Oh," the girl stammered, "I'm so sorry!" Why was his skin scaled? How could a son of Jessef Bindaved or any human be...this thing she was seeing?

"We must go." Yason said. "We must go to him quickly."

Without another word the boys and Caylene gathered their horses and galloped like the wind towards the Western Hills. They still had a full day's journey ahead, but nothing mattered now except getting to Telliam and helping him.

~ ~ ~

Jaomin wheeled around in time to see Sky walking menacingly towards the undergrowth. Seeing the battle-axe on the ground, Jaomin grasped the situation at once.

"Stop, Sky!" he yelled. "Don't kill it!"

Every fibre of Sky's being itched to destroy this creature. He hated all of these brutes, but this one he remembered. For this one the hate was particular and not general. Yet within the steeds of Loridan obedience is an absolute law. The Master's word is an inflexible edict. So it was that Sky halted, with his lips pulled back and his eyes flaming in anger. He repeatedly stamped on the ground but held back the destruction for which the creature's very being seemed to beg.

Diserac had been temporarily frozen by the unaccountable failure of his battle-axe to mark (much less fell) the winged horse. But when Sky stopped in his tracks, the giant recovered himself. Snatching up the dagger he hurled it and himself full force at the animal, bringing his dagger downwards in a devastating two-handed stroke.

It was like leaping into a wall of rock.

Diserac fell flat on the ground having accomplished no more against Sky's body than a fly might have done.

All this had transpired in less than twenty seconds. But it had taken that long for Jaomin to drag his maimed body into an upright position. Yet if Jaomin was moving slowly, Diserac was now going nowhere at all, for Sky pressed one hoof down onto the small of the captain's back. He flopped and floundered as ineffectually as a fish.

Jaomin made his unsteady way over to the horse.

When Sky landed on the hill, not only Diserac, but also Bulgyle and Geep had been concealed behind the trees. As soon as the horse had touched down Geep fearfully slipped away. But Bulgyle had hesitated, swinging his head to and fro, wondering what it was he must do.

When Diserac hurled his battle-axe, the desigarg half-wit shuffled out of his hiding place. But even he, as stupid as he was, recognized that the captain's axe had failed to hurt the horse. Consequently he had simply stopped in the open where he was. Now seeing Diserac pinned helplessly under the horse's hoof the creature roared and charged.

If Diserac's encounter with Sky could be likened to leaping into a wall of rock, this could be too, with one significant difference. Here the creature doing the leaping was so powerful that he actually knocked Sky-rider sideways, while at the same time knocking himself unconscious. Bulgyle lay flat on the ground and motionless, but that one brief respite allowed Diserac to roll over, regain his footing and sprint headlong down the slope of the hill.

"Sky, wait!" Jaomin ordered, anticipating the horse's actions before it could spring into pursuit. "Get me up, Sky."

Sky patiently crouched down allowing Jaomin, groaning with pain, to get into the saddle. It took him almost ten seconds to gain his saddle, and by that time Diserac was to the bottom of the hill and was beginning to run over the open fields beyond.

"Now, boy, let's go," Jaomin prompted. He need not have urged the horse. He was eagerness incarnate. Three strides down the hill and the great horse was in flight. Up into the blue heavens he sailed, making a streak towards the fleeing Captain of the Horde.

As a race there wasn't much to it. Five seconds later and Diserac was flat on his face eating a mouthful of dirt that the impact had force-fed him. It took the giant two minutes to recover his wits. By that time a very dangerous glowing blade was poised only inches from his face.

"Get up, creature," came Jaomin's cold voice. "Explain what has been done to my brother."

~ ~ ~

She came at last to a broad open place. She did not know how broad for it was dark as coal. Here there were no veins of crystal to cast amber or turquoise light. Here there was only darkness.

"Hey," Jenna called out softly. Nothing, no sound.

"HEY!" she yelled, a moment later and her own small voice answered her. The place must be very large, Jenna reasoned.

In the distance she could hear a faint dripping, but she could see nothing at all. She was about to explore, when a stranger called fear gripped her. If she left this shaft up which she had climbed, how would she ever find her way back? It whispered.

She knelt down and peered into the darkness of the passage from which she had come. Far below she saw a faint amber light, but it was so weak and dull that it gave no illumination to this chamber whatsoever. If she walked from here she would never find her way back. And in the darkness was she not entirely likely to fall down another shaft? She could see nothing.

Jenna squeezed her eyes tight shut and prayed. "Joy, remember how you whispered to me that you would never leave me? Right now, dear King, I need you. I need you to show me what to do. Please, help me."

Almost immediately the words came to her, "Rise, walk and discover."

Jenna _

's eyes snapped open. That was his voice alright. She'd know it anywhere. At the same time a curious thing happened. Whether it was because she had closed her eyes for a moment and experienced total darkness, or because the King of her heart actually lighted the darkness around her, still it was certain that the darkness was not as oppressive as it had been before. She could see just enough to take the next step, but all around her she could see solid rock.

Secretly, she had hoped the Dove would come roaring up from the passageway again. But she knew her King well, and had learned that he had certain ways of doing things. His ways were always best.

So Jenna rose and began walking. It was not easy but it was manageable.

~ ~ ~

"You," the giant said. "Ha, I should have known." For, of course, Diserac recognized this as the face he had seen in the wall-sized viewing crystal of the Tower of Grenwilde. Now a war was raging within the heart of the desigarg captain. The blood that burned his brain ordered the immediate destruction of this boy. But the blade and the horse, urged extreme caution.

"Give me no riddles, monster. You have a choice: die now or speak."

"Given those alternatives, human. I will gladly talk. I will tell any story you wish to hear."

Jaomin moved the blade ever so slightly. The flat of the tip touched the giant's forehead. Instantly, he screamed in anguish and threw himself backwards on the ground, writhing in pain. Smoke rose from his forehead as if he had been touched by a red-hot branding iron.

"Human slime! I vow I will eat you while you yet live."

"That will be very difficult. Not even desigarg eat once they are killed. Death is all there is for you, unless you go against the way you were made and tell me the truth."

Eying the young warrior, Diserac doubted not that the boy meant what he said. If the stripling didn't slay him the horse would.

"What would you know, human?"

"I would know what you and your foul masters have done to Telliam Bindaved."

Now Diserac had not seen the Nygrath and did not know what Jaomin was talking about, yet he had seen Telliam crystallized. But what did this boy know about that? Yet he had the strong impression that should the human discover his ignorance in this matter, his life would be very short indeed. He decided that his best course was to try and draw as much information out of the human as he could.

"They have trapped his soul in a child crystal."

"What do you mean 'trapped his soul'? Who has?"

"My masters, of course. They trapped your brother. Your own king, you wretched boy, sold him."

"What are you talking about?" Jaomin asked in anger and bewilderment.

Seeing the boy's mounting anger, Diserac thought he might draw out the information he needed by a simple ploy.

"You have no idea what I'm talking about, have you?"

"NO!" screamed Jaomin.

"What do you know boy?" Diserac sneered.

"Only that my brother is transformed into...a monster, something far worse than you. How did your 'masters' make him into a creature capable of tearing down the Great Wall?"

Diserac tried not to show any surprise at all. What did the boy mean about tearing down the Great Wall? But the wily garg had heard enough to know what he must say, "Of course, the creature is your brother isn't it? How amusing."

"It is a joke you will pay for by burning to death unless you point me to one that is worthier to burn for it."

Now, in an instant, Diserac knew what he would do. Here was the perfect way to be revenged on Gamarad and be rid of this enemy, all with one lie. "Swear to me that you will not slay me, human, and I will direct you to the one who has twisted your brother's soul."

Jaomin considered. He did not want to be forever bound by an oath that would prevent him from giving this creature what it so richly deserved. "I will swear not to kill you until I have revenge on the one who has hurt my brother. But if ever I see you again, I will let this sword burn your insides!"

Nagara Diserac smiled, "Only if I don't split you first. It is a fair bargain. You seek the great toad, Targa Gamarad. He is the one who twisted the sinews of your brother's soul, using dark arts known only to himself."

Jaomin's hand shook, "Can this dark work be reversed?"

Diserac's smile widened, "Ask the toad. I can tell you no more."

"You think you can buy your life quite cheaply; where is this Gamarad?"

"If he is still in these lands, you will find him in the Tower of Grenwilde; if he has fled from - from you - then he will be in Darga Dran."

"The Tower has been destroyed. How can Gamarad be there? You're lying to me."

"What do you mean, human."

"The Tower was destroyed by...my brother."

Diserac did his best to conceal his amazement, "Yes, your family are very formidable. What would you have me say? If the Tower was destroyed while Gamarad was in it, your brother has taken his own revenge."

Jaomin considered. If Gamarad was dead, then there was no hope for Telliam. There was nothing for him to do, but to go and to see for himself. Jaomin lowered the sword, "Where is Darga Dran?"

"One hundred miles east of Sharsta Nal, beside the Oasis of Og the Destroyer.

"Is this all you can tell me?"

Diserac nodded, _

"Except to say to you clearly that your brother was betrayed by Akinwrath. I know. I carried the message demanding your brother's life as the payment of the withdrawal of the Horde from Grenwilde. I saw your brother crystallized. I tell you all this clearly, because I know the knowledge will do you no good but will eat your insides like a worm." _

"Get away from here," Jaomin said shaking with rage.

Diserac rose and started towards the Western Hills.

"Not that way. Back to your own lands with you."

Diserac turned and eyed the boy. He thought it best not to argue, so he turned and started towards the East Hills.

"Run, creature, and don't turn back. If I see you turning, I will not stop the horse from killing you. He has made you no promise."

Diserac turned and smiled wickedly, "Your mind is almost worthy of a desigarg, young one."

"Go!" Jaomin ordered. "Run! See that you don't turn."

Diserac, still smiling, turned and broke into a loping run. Jaomin stood staring after him. Nagara Diserac thought it best not to turn for a long, long time.

~ ~ ~

As evening closed in upon the Western Hills, a massive figure reached their slopes. It stood in silence a long time surveying the hills and woods. At last, it spoke:

"Give to me the sons of Jessef Bindaved!" His voice carried from the fields below the forested Western Hills. It penetrated every recess of the forest. There was no hiding place from its sound.

"Men of Grenwilde. Why will you die? Hear the voice of your rightful king. Deliver into my power the sons of Jessef Bindaved, and all your treachery will be forgiven."

Below the encampment of the army of Grenwilde, the Death Nygrath had taken his stand.

From their tents the men of Grenwilde and Virikria made their trembling way into the clearing, through the forest and finally to the brow of the hill. What was this creature? Its very aspect was dreadful to behold: its height three times that of a man; its arms like massive oak limbs and its enormous sword longer than a man was tall. Who could stand before such a creature?

Its voice caused the men's hearts to fail with fear. To look at it made them shake and their teeth to chatter. Like old men they shook. For its voice went right to their hearts. Had they been delivered from the vulgraths to fall into the hands of this?

As to the substance of its demands, they bewildered every hearer. The men of Virikria wondered who these sons might be. The men of Grenwilde knew but wondered why they were demanded. All the sons of Bindaved wondered of what treachery the creature spoke.

"Let but the sons of Jessef Bindaved come to me and I will be appeased. Your treason will be blotted out. Already the false king is dead, swallowed by the ground he fouled with his presence. Send to me the sons of treachery and be at peace."

Ganarth Bindaved stood forth. He was the senior officer present. He was also one of the men being demanded by the creature. Yet brave though he undoubtedly was, the supernatural quality of the creature's voice robbed his nerve and his voice shook. "Monster, what creature are you and why do you call for my blood and for the blood of my brothers?"

The terrible creature swung its gaze towards Ganarth picking him out from the crowd, "Ganarth Bindaved, well you know your treachery, how you contrived to steal my throne and, to your shame, set up the puppet king, Akinwrath."

Ganarth thought that there was something strangely familiar about the creature. However, he was too distant to see its face clearly and, of course, he knew that he had never seen anything remotely like this creature - except perhaps in the blackest nightmare. Yet the words of the creature stirred his heart with anger.

"How you know my name, I cannot guess. What treachery you refer to, I do not know. As to King Akinwrath." Ganarth paused, for he did not love the king any longer, but he could bring no public charge against him, "he is the rightful King of Grenwilde."

"Akinwrath sold me, under your council, to the great toad. Do you not know your own brother, Ganarth? Do not think to be rid of me so easily, false Ganarth! I have lived long in the depths of the earth, receiving new strength from the Creator. Into my arms the power of the world is woven, and my sword is forged in the judgement of this present world. I, the true King of Grenwilde, have destroyed my false rival and now I destroy his false lieutenants."

Ganarth blanched at these words. Could it truly be Telliam? How was it possible and how...?

In the valley the Death Nygrath raised its sword. Infallibly it would have ended Ganarth's musing then and there, but that a voice of command rang out from the hills.

"Hold!" it was the voice of Crist Anakara, Prince of Virikria. He had listened to the creature speak and recognized that it spoke with conviction. He had a very discerning spirit and could see through evil and could sense good. But this creature was a mystery; was it some poor dupe of the Prince of Night, invested with unthinkable power? If so, could it be brought to its senses or failing that, be destroyed? If it had honour there might be a way. "You who style yourself King. Do you, Creature, acknowledge the Runes of Truth, or are we to regard you as a foul, lying, pretender?"

"I am the rightful King; that is how you are to regard me. I live by the Word of Truth. All who would rule in Grenwilde, in any of her provinces, must do so beneath the authority of the Runes," the Nygrath responded, heatedly and - again - with a force of conviction.

"This you say truthfully. Yet it is one thing to say you follow the Runes and quite another to live by them. How is it that you call yourself 'King'? The Runes say no King shall sit on upon the throne until he comes whose right it is to rule. This is why Virikria broke from Grenwilde, because her rulers styled themselves kings. Do you claim to be that Coming One?"

"I am the Key of David."

Among the more informed men of Grenwilde, and everywhere among the men of Virikria a gasp went up. For to claim this title was to claim to be the master of authority, its end and its beginning.

"You are not, creature. Either you lie or are deceived. The Creator has spoken to me of the Coming One in a vision. It was for his sake I journeyed to Grenwilde from Virikria. I have come to help establish his throne. Already I have laid my crown at the feet of his Captain, Jaomin Bindaved, the Hero of Grenwilde."

More sounds of amazement and astonishment rose from all along the brow of the Western Hills. But they were reduced to leaden silence by the booming tones of the Death Nygrath.

"I have slain this traitor of whom you speak. This 'hero' is no more. Do not the Runes say that none can stand against the True King? I am he. Let this be my token."

So saying, he brought flat of the blade down upon the earth. Instantly, a rumbling sound like distant thunder, issued from the heart of the world. The sound rose around the men on the hill. It built in intensity until the whole knoll was shaking like the skin of a beaten drum. All those along its brow tumbled and fell. Not one man could stand.

When the shaking of the ground ceased, the men continued to quake. What manner of creature was this? Where had he come from? Had he in reality slain their hero?

Again brave Anakara spoke: "Creature, you are strong with a strength that is more than mortal. But strength does not fulfil sacred writ. Do not the Runes also say that none can stand before the King in combat?"

"They do," thundered the Nygrath.

"Then I, Prince Crist Anakara of Virikria, swear to prove upon your person in fair combat that you are not what you claim to be. Do you accept my challenge?"

"Brave Prince," the Nygrath instantly responded, "I do not desire to kill you, but that is what must happen if I accept your challenge. Do you not understand that by the provision of the Creator, I am power personified?"

"I doubt not the justice of my cause. Do you accept my challenge?"

"Very well," the Nygrath sadly answered, "but you will but add slaughter to my sword."

"You will admit, creature, that a fair combat would not involve your using the supernatural judgements of your sword?" the prince asked.

"I will not need them, prince," he answered without the slightest trace of boasting.

"It is good. I will answer your summons in this valley at day break, for this night I must seek the Creator in prayer."

The Nygrath was silent, for the first time it seemed uncertain of itself and almost as if were trying to remember something. Finally it spoke in a much quieter voice, "I accept."

All this time Ganarth and his brothers had wondered at the creature and its words. Had it killed Jaomin and the king? Was it - no it couldn't be - but was it, Telliam?

Suddenly, on an impulse Orun cried out, "Creature, will you grant me safe conduct to visit with you this night?"

"Orun, don't," hissed Lieutenant Philomen. "The thing means to kill you all."

There was a long pause. Finally, the creature spoke, "I have nothing to say to you, son of Jessef."

"If you don't lie," Ganarth called, "then that name is also your own. Let us come to you under leave of safety. Surely one as mighty as you has nothing to fear. But grant us leave to speak with you."

"Are you both mad!" Adran demanded of Orun and Ganarth.

It was nearly dark now; the figure in the valley was little more than a dark shadow. Suddenly a bolt of fire shot out from its extended sword. A fallen tree lying in the valley ignited into flame. The voice of the creature, sad beyond reckoning, rang out, "Come, sons of Jessef, for the sake our blood, come. Sit with me this night, for you will surely die in the morning."