I. This is the direct sequel to Touch O' Luck
II) It serves as a prologue to the Old Realms series.
It will be a superior reading experience
to start this story from the beginning
Please give it a good rating if you liked it, it will help the story reach a much bigger audience:)
Chapter specific maps of the realms
Aelrindel
(aka Lenar)
The Painted God & a dead Wyvern’s bone
Part II
The morning sun came from the east, touched the highest peaks of Khan’s Lament, leaving behind it the fertile basin of Raoz and the Shallow Sea, turned a blinding white over the Great Desert and washed over the vast Cofol Steppe from the Torn Earth gulf and the bordering mist veiled Wetull, all the way to the plains of Rin An Pur and the endless frozen forests that hid the road to Dan.
It made the dark waters of Utari turn a shade of turquoise, same as the walls of Yin Xiyan’s palace building, its three golden domes shining their light over the city, from the grant bazaar, to the imperial barracks. The giant white and gold flag of the Khanate unfurled slowly, its staff reaching almost twenty meters in height and its fly almost half that; it dwarfed the flags and banners of the Imperial commanders already residing in the city barracks buildings. A rare occasion this was, as the flag signified the Great Khan was present in this remote edge of the kingdom, his visit the first, in almost twenty years.
Lenar, the white satin shawl that Wulan brought covering her head, gasped in her effort to breathe, before the entrance to the great hall. She hadn’t slept at all, her mind worrying over Sahand’s words and the fragmented memories of a very long life. Was it a mistake going forward with her plans? How much punishment was enough? she thought. How many years of waiting in exile, was too many?
A man returned from the south, Sahand had said. His father knew him from his youth and the almost disastrous campaign beyond the Vapi Arn-Ria River back in 161 NC. The Great Khan had almost died then after he fell from his chariot, but a wise man from the mysterious Plague Isles, a chain of islands lost in the Haze Sea west of Eplas, had saved him in the battlefield. That same man almost thirty years later visited the aging Khan and his family in Rin Anpur and offered them gifts from his gods, amongst them these ‘Charms of good luck’, as he called them.
I can’t understand what spooked you so, Sahand had complained later, after all his attempts at getting her to sleep with him had failed. Oblivious to him there was much to worry about that damned copper-skinned demon worshipper being the first. The people of Aken were notoriously secretive, as much as untrustworthy.
To think one had helped the Khan out of the goodness of his heart was idiotic.
To believe the cunning soothsayer had decided to return to civilization after all these years for memory’s sake, almost pitiable.
Especially if his gifts, interfered with her spells.
Where did he find the bone? Lenar thought. Who told him, how to use it?
She had to fix this.
Make everything right again if she could, or ask for help.
Where was Ralnor? She hadn’t seen him since the summer.
The bronze gong located on the roof of the palace sounded three times. The doors before her opened and Lenar exhaling slowly walked inside to meet the leader of the Cofols in person.
The closest a visitor was allowed to get to the old man in the snow-white graceful robes, sitting on the raised on a platform alabaster throne, was twenty meters; unless he was a member of the royal family, or one of his closest advisors. The Khan never spoke directly to his subjects and was seen rarely, after he ascended to the throne. Lenar stopped, allowing the herald, an obese eunuch in his third decade with the smooth face of a youth, to announce her and bowed a covered head to the expecting Khan, when the effeminate man finished.
“I’m honored to meet a descendant of Radpour up close,” Lenar said in a courteous manner, using the Horselords tongue fluently. The Khan squinted his eyes, slightly amused, the line of the old injury showing under his jaw. Ten wooden steps below his feet, those seated on the chairs normally intended for his advisors looked at each other, but mostly the uncomfortable Prince Sahand, who was amongst them. Prince Atpa, his younger brother and third son of Khan Burzin Radpour, black penciled eyes cold and calculating, snickered.
“Meh, thought you already have,” He taunted, to the fury of his older brother and the discomfort of decorous Saam Phanti, first Advisor to the Khan. The other man present, old grey tunic leaving his chest naked, but hidden under several bone ornaments, taller than everyone present didn’t react at all. He kept his snake eyes on her face, skin of his arms painted white, as was half of his face from the nose down to his neck and part of his chest. The rest of his hairless skin had the red-copper color of an Aken. He raised a cocky bony brow, when Lenar attempted to set his blood on fire using the heat from the nearby braziers, his initial smugness turning to mild panic, when he realized she could do it, but for that tiny piece of cursed bone they all wore.
A gush of wind blew in the big hall, the coals left from the night turned a bright hot red inside the braziers, flames jumping out for a brief instant, before dying out. The Khan raised his hand to stop the murmuring of the people present at the periphery, mainly city dignitaries standing near the walls of the hall. The Hundred, the Khan’s bodyguards raising the total number present to around a hundred fifty. Everyone wanted to see the Khan of course, but low key also catch a glimpse of the Moon of Dan in the flesh.
“Lady Lenar,” Saam Phanti said, getting up. “The Khan is pleased to meet his son’s spouse at long last.”
“Thank you, First Advisor Phanti,” Lenar replied, her eyes staying on the frowning disciple of the nameless Painted God.
“Right,” Phanti said, with a glance back towards the silently watching them Burzin. “You haven’t visited Rin An Pur in so long, it seems your Grace was determined to force his Majesty to visit the provinces, in order to see you. Quite callous, some might say.”
His weak smile at the end taking the sting out of his words, but only barely.
“Is that what happened?” Lenar asked undaunted.
“Of course not. His Majesty does wish to hear your input, on another matter though.”
Prince Atpa snickered.
“I will strive to be truthful, First Advisor Phanti.”
“Excellent, now—”
“For fuck’s sake, ask her about what happened in Raoz already!” Prince Atpa snorted, a yelp escaping his lips when Sahand lunged and grabbed him by the collar of his grey-leather doublet, a dagger in hand.
“Fuck you!” Atpa spat.
“Say one more word and I’ll gut you like a pig,” Sahand warned him, fury in his eyes. Lenar thought she might have pushed him a bit too much and reached out again trying to sooth her lover, before it was too late. The old Khan beat her to it.
“Enough!” Burzin ordered and his sons stopped immediately and pulled away from each other. “Phanti, finish while we’re still breathing, if you please.”
“Yes, your Majesty.” A chagrined advisor replied.
“Good,” Burzin said and turned to her. “Here’s a question to start the herd moving. What were you doing in Raoz, Lenar of Dan?”
“I just wanted to see the rest of Eplas,” Lenar started adjusting the hem of her long dress. “Visit, what should be the Great Khan’s domain, per Radpour’s wishes.”
Burzin tilted his chin upward. “You claim to know my ancestor’s heart?”
Oh yes, I very much do.
“Only what is plain for all to see, your Majesty.” She answered instead.
The lines on the Khan’s face grew, wrinkles spreading to his mouth, when he pressed his lips tight.
“Warning King Antoon wasn’t in the Khanate’s interests,” Saam Phanti pointed out.
“The Duke insulted her!” Sahand exploded, face darkening. “It wasn’t her fault.”
“Who sent Prince Radin to Riverdor?” The First Advisor inquired.
“He volunteered. A reaction seemed proper,” Sahand replied, his tone defensive.
“He killed King Alistair’s son in a senseless duel. Forced the High King to give up his sister,” Phanti counted with his fingers, his obviously well-rehearsed points. “Now Kaltha has army crossing the Shallow Sea, reinforcing the Duke.”
“Bah, who cares? It was the second son,” Sahand said dismissively, not noticing his younger brother’s scowl. “And he won her in a tourney, which is their fucking custom!”
“What about the army?”
“Isn’t that what we wanted?” Sahand asked, looking at his father. “Force a battle on our own ground, and alleviate the warlords concerns?”
“Chubin Amin hasn’t answered our call,” Phanti said. “The Greenwhale Peninsula will follow his lead. We can’t go east and leave the west in turmoil.”
“Pfft, he answers to the Khan, is he not?” Sahand got up frustrated. “Perhaps he shouldn’t be the War Leader.”
“Stripping him of the position, won’t help ease his concerns,” Phanti scolded him. “You want us to make war on two fronts?”
The Prince Heir grunted not liking his tone.
Lenar decided to intervene. “A quick win will bring them around.”
Burzin cocked his head. “Explain.”
“Smash Kaltha’s forces and the Horselords will fall in line.”
“There are no Horselords anymore, but for the few bandits roaming the wilderness,” Phanti said sounding frustrated. Lenar thought, she’d probably touched a nerve there.
“Has the army reached Xuski Fort?” The Khan asked casually, moving past the prickly matter.
“It has, your Majesty.” Phanti replied tensely, shifting his weight from one foot to another.
“How about Nout? Is he still en route?”
That was his second son, Prince Nout, the ‘Gold Leopard’.
“Just passed Whitemont Peaks, your Majesty,” Phanti droned.
“Can he campaign in the middle of winter?” Burzin inquired with a frown.
“The mountains block the worst of the weather and it’s rarely snowing in Raoz,” His First Advisor replied assuredly. “But speed is of the essence.”
“A quick win.” The Khan droned.
“So say we all,” Apta touted and everyone laughed, the tension breaking inside the hall. The conversation moved away from her, although she wasn’t dismissed. So Lenar remained standing, but breathed out more easily now, until she locked eyes with that cursed spawn of Aken that is. The shaman answered her stare with a smirk, his hand clasping the blackened bone on his chest tightly.
What the fuck do you want? She thought.
“Do you still kill babies to make your paints?” Lenar asked all of a sudden, keeping her tone firm, but indifferent.
“Only Zilan babies,” The man replied not missing a beat, despite his voice cracking, eyes blinking and his forked tongue showing. It was a procedure done to their young and not a characteristic of his species. “Alas, not many of them around these days.”
Lenar almost took the bait. She blinked slowly.
“Suharto is eccentric,” Burzin intervened. Apparently he was listening in. “But a fine healer.”
“I thought the Painted God, loves his carcasses,” Lenar said and Suharto squirmed and got up from his chair. The man towered over her and he stunk of rot and decaying bones. Rather aptly, she thought not backing away. “What do they call him? The Demon of Bones right? Wouldn’t want him around.”
“Only a witch would say that,” Suharto hissed, suspicion all over his boney face.
So you’re not sure? Did my words shock you? She thought, crossing her arms over her chest, lips splitting into a wide toothy grin. Suharto didn’t react at all, proving her theory correct. Lenar rejoiced so much realizing her spells were holding up to such a decree, she almost started glowing right then and there.
“Hah, you’re not wrong,” The Khan said, wrinkled mouth cracked in a rare naughty smile. “We all think that privately,” Lenar flinched taken aback, her brief joy dying out in less than a second. “Which is why I brought him here, to root out all these nasty rumors. We can’t have them poisoning the minds of people,” Burzin explained further to the Shaman’s smug delight, making her mood tank even more.
Yin Xi Yan was buzzing under her balcony. On her left the grand bazaar was full, caravans unloading cargo and supplies from the capital. Goods and food via the Khanate Gulf and the port of Shao Na Lan. Most caravans followed the Hath Kirk River to its source to reach Yin Xi Yan. The source being the Utari Lake.
Lenar turned towards the green expanse hiding its turquoise waters, feeling the sun on her skin. If one drew a straight line from the Desert Lake, aiming east towards the coast, he’d find the city of Rida at the end of it.
Should I give it up? She thought, feeling a chill despite the heat rising around her. But then all would have been in vain. Everything…
“Everything hinges on this sweet little sorceress now,” Reinut preached, deft fingers writing his name on her naked thigh, long white hair caught at the nappe, silver earrings catching the last of the sun rays, black skin sweaty and smelling of passionate lovemaking. “Crossing Merodras sapped at our strength. Nobody wants to fight. We need a win, I need a win here. Now. Or I’m done.”
She turned to look at him, eyes glowing a warm gold, her song soothing his worries.
“I can pass through the Hoplites, but they’ll know,” Aelrindel whispered in his ear, as he teased the peaks of her breasts with his lips. “You can’t fool a Wyvern, it will be suicide even if you succeed.”
“I’ll give you Rida, from Eastward Forest to Queen’s Oasis,” Reinut haggled, the stubble rough on her skin, her need maddening. “And from Teid River to Northwall Heights, everything in between.”
“Mmm,” Aelrindel murmured.
“Is that a yes?”
“You’ll never win,” Aelrindel breathed, faraway look in her eyes. “You’ll be the death of me. They’ll hunt me down till the sun stops rising from the east.”
“What if I did though? Win that is. What if my word was law?” Reinut asked all serious.
“Foolish human,” Aelrindel responded softly. “The realm will never bow to a pirate, or a banished witch, they fear the Empire too much. The Wyverns even more. Rightly so.”
“Because you can’t fool a Wyvern,” Reinut parroted her earlier words. “No more than once and very briefly.”
“Yes.”
The Pirate Lord pursed his lips. Amber colored eyes still scheming for another angle, although he’d already found the answer to his problems.
Lenar pulled away from the open balcony and walked towards her quarters, where Sahand was sleeping after their lunch. The flapping of small wings stopped her and she looked back over her shoulder. There was bird on the rails, black beady eyes staring back at her.
She went outside again, reached carefully and picked up the bird. It took her less than a moment to find the small scroll inside the leather pouch. Lenar unfurled it with a frown on her face and read the tiny scribbled letters.
At first the missive appeared incomprehensible, even cryptic.
But then of course as luck would have it, Ralnor’s warning made perfect sense.
The hunt lasts as long as its mark does.
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