Rojuun

Rojuun

  John H. Carroll

  Copyright 2010 John H. Carroll

  Cover image Copyright 2011 John H. Carroll

  This book is dedicated to my wonderful family, who will be delighted to spend any money I might make off it. Thank you for putting up with me.

  Table of Contents

  Map of Ryallon

  Map of Willden

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  About the Author

  Map of Ryallon

  Map of The Willden Forest

  Chapter 1

  Year 1390, Fifth Age

  Being half a year after the events of “Pelya”

  Tathan was a tall man of twenty-nine years with curly black hair framing a face tanned by travel. His gloved hand rested on the hilt of a thin, slightly curved sword sheathed at his waist while his intense grey eyes studied the secluded mountain valley of his childhood.

  A breeze caressed his cheek, bringing sounds of bees finding the first blossoms of spring. Other insects buzzed through the valley hoping the birds would be too busy singing their songs to feast upon them. Snowcapped mountains surrounded wild grasses dotted with groves of trees and crossed by small streams. The sky was deep blue with wisps of clouds that would likely become afternoon thunderstorms.

  The rays of a newly risen sun chased away the chill. Tathan knew it would take a full day and night’s travel to make it to the eastern side of the valley where he used to live, so he adjusted his travel pack on his shoulders and continued his journey. There was no path or road, his parent’s house being the only dwelling in the peaceful valley.

  Few people came to visit. This was a place free of the wars, politics and various ills of civilization permeating the rest of the world. The only religion Tathan had grown up with was a simple spirituality and knowledge of the ways of nature. Just being back in this valley was almost enough to bring a smile to his face . . . but he hadn’t smiled in quite a while.

  His mind heard an odd noise. He whipped out his sword and crouched. The breeze ruffled his hair as he scanned the rest of the valley, and the sun glistened off a small, opal tipped piercing in his eyebrow and the golden earrings that hung from his ears. An unseen danger whispered on that breeze. He scrutinized the small mountain trail behind him. Nothing appeared. Tathan stayed in a defensive position a few moments.

  “I must remember not to be so jumpy when I reach home.” He sighed and sheathed his sword. After a few steps, he increased his pace, moving like a panther over the grass. Hours passed before he slowed to a walk.

  He reached into his pack to grab trail rations as he looked around once more. Sheep roamed freely to the north of him, staying together to protect themselves from the occasional predator. Tathan remembered having to round them up for wool and meat when he was younger. It was a simpler life then.

  The rest of the day passed without incident. Flowers were in bloom while bees and insects went merrily about their business. It amused Tathan to think of insects as merry, but it was the way of things here. The thought of camping for the night crossed his mind, but with sleep came dark dreams.

  As the sun touched the western mountains, Tathan stopped to cook a warm meal of rabbit he had caught along the way. It took a few minutes to set a fire pit, gather sticks from a grove of trees nearby and water from a small stream. The clouds hadn’t delivered upon their promise of afternoon rain, so the wood was dry.

  A gesture and an arcane word sent a swirl of flame from his fingertips to light the campfire. Tathan prepared the rabbit and warmed roots he had dug out of the ground earlier. It was a good meal. He leaned against his travel pack to relax for a bit while eating.

  Every nerve in his body shrieked warning of peril.

  Tathan rolled to the side, his sword out in a breath. It slashed through the air, again, and once more. Tathan tumbled and leapt, looking for the next person to fight.

  There was no one.

  In the light of the moons and the lingering coals of the campfire, Tathan saw the only thing he had wounded was thin air. He was certain the air would recover. After a brief search of the area, he extinguished the fire, grabbed his travel pack and continued.

  Tathan looked at the innumerable bright stars that lit up the night. Swaths of sparkling mist floated across the sky like branches of a meandering river. Called the Mists of Magic, they flowed through shafts in the vast world of Ryallon and consisted of pure magical energy. He took a deep breath and reveled in the brilliance of a view that wasn’t possible in cities.

  Siahray was the nearest of two moons. Its blue and green surface was three quarters full in the southern sky. Piohray was small and far from the world. Red and orange colors swirled around the surface, though it was hard to tell unless one stared at it awhile. It was half-full near the eastern horizon. Together, they cast lavender light over the surroundings that made it easy to travel by.

  Shortly after midnight, Tathan thought he saw a dragon cross the sky in front of Siahray. A few minutes later, he saw a burst of brilliant white to the north. The thought of dragons playing in the sky sent shivers up his spine.

  It was morning when Tathan saw the smoke of a fireplace rising in the distance. Before long, he was close enough to smell cooking food. His stomach growled in anticipation.

  The sun peeked over the mountains as he approached the grey stone house, an old place built by ancestors whose memory was lost to time. He had been told as a child that the stone was bound by magic, making it strong. Two other houses stood empty, used only for storage. He knew from experience their thatched roofs weren’t so magical and needed yearly maintenance. The barn behind the main house was made of the same stone. On the other side of a babbling brook were woods he used to explore.

  The sun’s amber light touched the chimney of the house when Tathan stopped to take in the scene before him. The thing he remembered most about his childhood was wanting to leave. Every chance he got, Tathan would run off to explore the woods, climbing up trees to hide from his parents so he wouldn’t have to do chores or go to bed. He explored further with every year he aged, going beyond the woods to the base of the mountains, trying to find roads out of the valley. At first, his father beat him for running off, but eventually gave up upon realizing his son would just run farther and hide better the next time.

  A young woman came around the house and spotted Tathan, breaking his reverie. “Mother!” She ran to the front porch and, with a glance over her shoulder, dashed inside.

  Tathan stared at the door for a moment. There hadn’t been anyone younger living here when he was growing up. His sister Mariah would be much older now.

  A tall woman of middle age walked out, wiping her hands on an apron that protected her yellow dress from stains. “Hello, traveler! We don’t get many people visiting in this valley.” Her black hair was beginning to grey.

  Tathan look
ed around for signs of his family. They would never have left their home.

  “Traveler? Are you well? Do you need aid?”

  Tathan shook his head to clear it. “Hmm? I’m fine. Pardon me, but I don’t recognize you.”

  The woman stepped toward Tathan. “I don’t recognize you either. Should I?”

  The young woman who had rushed inside came back out to stand on the porch.

  “I was raised here. My name is Tathan.”

  “Tathan? . . . I know that name. You’re Ellin’s son, left some fourteen years ago. Welcome home, Nephew. My name is Sherrie and this is my daughter, Liselle. Will you join us for breakfast?”

  “Are my mother and father home, and Mariah, my sister?”

  The two women look at each other in silence.

  Apprehension chilled Tathan’s blood. “Where are they?”

  “Your mother is here, but . . . your father left his body to the ground some ten years ago. His body gave out.” Sherrie clutched her apron in dismay. “Seven years ago, your sister Mariah felt pain in her side for some days before she also died. I am so very sorry.” Sympathetic tears welled in the eyes of both women.

  Tathan felt his own tears roll down his cheeks.

  Sherrie came forward with arms outstretched to share his grief.

  Tathan ripped his sword out of its sheath. Its tip hovered an inch from her chin.

  Sherrie fell backward to the ground. Fear replaced sympathy. She scrambled to her feet and dashed back to her daughter.

  Tathan’s body had moved instinctively as it always did these days. He slammed his sword back into its sheath. “I’m so sorry . . . I didn’t mean . . . Please, forgive me.”

  He fell to his knees, closed his eyes and saw memories of his father and sister smiling at him. Though he had known it would be a possibility, the knowledge they were gone brought misery.

  “Beware that sword, Scott!”

  Tathan wiped his eyes to see two men moving to guard the women. One had a pitchfork and the other wielded a thick piece of wood.

  The man with the pitchfork moved forward in a defensive crouch. “Here now, stranger, we won’t be asking for trouble nor will we be expecting any.”

  Sherrie grabbed his arm. “He’s family, Scott. He’s also fast with that sword. I wouldn’t like to see you bleed, Husband.”

  Scott flashed Sherrie an irritated glance for doubting his ability to protect her. “Family?” Scott squinted at Tathan, then at Sherrie, then Liselle. “He has the same grey eyes as you. I’ll believe he’s family.”

  Tathan ignored what Scott believed. “My mother is here you said? And is she well? . . .”

  Sherrie clasped her hands. “Oh yes. She’s inside!” She yelled toward the house. “Ellin! . . . Ellin, you must come out! Tathan has returned home to us.”

  Tathan wanted to move closer, but couldn’t bring himself to do so.

  His mother came through the door and shielded her face against the sunrise. New wrinkles lined her eyes and the corners of her mouth. “Tathan?”

  Sherrie helped her down from the porch. “I believe it is, Ellin.”

  Tathan saw the resemblance between the sisters. His mother’s hair had gone completely grey.

  “Tathan? Is it really you?” Disbelief slowed Ellin’s steps. “Your eyes, they’re . . . haunted.”

  “Hello, Mother. I’m so sorry about father and Mariah.” A sob escaped his throat.

  Ellin took him in a fierce embrace. “Oh, Tathan.”

  After a few moments, they separated. Tathan dried his eyes with a sleeve while his mother dried hers on her apron. “I’m sorry mother. I’m sorry I wasn’t here. I’m sorry I . . .”

  She patted his shoulder. “Don’t worry yourself over what has gone before. They missed you, but we all knew you were a traveling spirit. How are you, Son?” Ellin reached up to run fingers through his hair. “You’re different, Tathan. Your eyes . . . What have they seen? Why are they so haunted, my Son?” It was as though she wanted to ask a hundred questions without giving him time to answer any of them.

  “I . . .” Tathan didn’t know what to tell her about his time away. So much had happened to him. So much she wouldn’t approve of. He removed his gloves and tucked them into his belt. “So . . . this is my Aunt Sherrie and Cousin Liselle?”

  His mother stared at him for a moment and then turned to make introductions. “Yes, and this is Scott, Sherrie’s husband. Laremy is Scott’s brother. They arrived after your father’s death.”

  Scott and Laremy came over to shake Tathan’s hand. They were both strong men with blond hair and blue eyes. Laremy looked to be the older brother. Tathan shook their hands and nodded to them each in greeting.

  Tathan touched his mother’s hair and noticed the frailty of her aged skin. “Aunt Sherrie mentioned breakfast? I’ve traveled a ways without a good meal.”

  Ellin smiled and took him by the hand. “But of course. Come inside. Sit with us and tell us of your journeys.”

  As they walked inside, Tathan looked around to see that everything was still as he remembered. Well-used rugs covered the stone floor of the large living room. Chairs and a few small tables surrounded a central fireplace that held a warm morning fire. The ceiling was made of wood braced by thick beams stained dark brown. Old tapestries made by grandparents and great grandparents hung on stone walls. The quality was as fine as any owned by nobles whose houses he had snuck through while they slept.

  “Come to the dining room, Tathan. Breakfast is ready.”

  Aromas of cooking meat, eggs and fresh bread filled the house. He went through the opening and into the large dining room. The wooden floor, which had seen generations of feet, was swept and clean. More tapestries lined the walls in here as well. Tathan ran his fingers down the large wood table, wondering how many meals had been set upon it over the generations.

  His Aunt Sherrie gestured to a chair on the near side of the table. “Won’t you sit here?”

  He took the offered seat. The men sat at the ends of the table. The women brought the food in wooden serving dishes before joining. His mother took the chair to his right.

  There were places where he had eaten amazing meals in his travels, but nothing ever seemed as good as home. He closed his eyes, savoring each bite.

  “I’d guess you like the food by the smile on your face, Cousin.” Liselle wore a dark blue dress suitable for doing chores in, but kept her wavy black hair loose. Her eyes were grey, much like his, but gentler.

  Tathan found his gaze drawn to a flower in her hair. It was bluish-purple in color and he got the distinct impression it was watching him as much as everyone else was.

  Liselle was the sort of pretty young woman who would find an unpleasant life in many of the cities Tathan had visited. The thought made him look back down to the food on his plate.

  His family exchanged concerned looks.

  Sorrow crossed Ellin’s expression. “You worry me, Son. I’ve said it twice and I say it again. You look haunted. What happened in your time away?”

  It was a difficult question to answer. “Well . . .” Tathan sighed. “I . . . don’t know. A lot of things have happened. I’ve seen . . . things.” He looked around the room for a way to escape the conversation. He found none. “The world isn’t peaceful like it is here. Can we talk about something else?”

  Ellin smiled sadly. “Of course, my dear Tathan. You’re here and that’s what matters.” She took hold of his hand. “It’s so good to see you. I’ve worried since you left.”

  Tathan returned both her smile and her grip.

  “How long are you here, Tathan? For good or just visiting?” Laremy’s deep voice was warm and welcoming.

  “I don’t know. I didn’t realize I was coming home until I saw the trail through the mountains. Before I knew it, I was in the valley.” Tathan left out the trouble he was escaping in the Western Kingdoms.
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br />   Scott gestured at the sword on Tathan’s hip. “I probably wouldn’t be much of a challenge for you with my pitchfork, would I?”

  “I’m sorry, Scott, but no. I . . . am dangerous when a sword is in my hand.” Tathan didn’t want to hurt anyone, especially not his family. “You may have noticed that I . . .” He was pausing a lot. He didn’t like talking about himself. “I’ll be careful not to hurt you. I promise.”

  Instead of reassuring his family, his words had the opposite effect. Tears of sadness flowed down his mother’s cheeks again.

  “Here now, Mother. Don’t cry for me. I’m fine, really.”

  Ellin fanned herself with her hand. “Oh I know, dear. I see you’ve grown, but I also see that peace eludes you.”

  Tathan gave a short laugh. “True, but I found the adventure I wanted.” He took her hands in his and held them to his forehead. “I love you, Mother.”

  Ellin sobbed into her son’s shoulder for a few moments.

  Sherrie and Liselle dabbed at tears.

  After finishing breakfast, they took their cups to the living room and talked for a bit about life in the valley. Weather was an important subject. Winter had been mild and spring had started strong, giving the men hope for good crops and gardens. Hunting and gathering supplemented small crops of vegetables and grains. The sheep that roamed provided food and wool. Life was good, if simple.

  Tathan avoided talking about his travels when asked, preferring to listen to his family. He felt his eyes beginning to droop before long.

  “Laremy and I were going hunting for deer today.” Scott retrieved a bow and quiver from a hook. “We should get going if we want to be back before nightfall. Would you like to go with us, Tathan?”

  Laremy grabbed his as well.

  “No . . . Thank you. I haven’t had sleep in a couple of days, so I wouldn’t be much use to you.” Tathan was tired, but it was a relaxed tired. It was good to feel warm and safe for the first time in what seemed like an eternity.

  Sherrie stood to gather cups. “Liselle, get your cousin set up in the east bedroom. He’ll be comfortable there, I’m sure.”

  “Yes, Mother.” Liselle jumped to her feet. “You probably know where it is, but I’ll show you anyway.” She beamed a smile at Tathan.

  “Thank you. I’m exhausted, so there’s a good chance I’d get lost.” He got the chuckle he hoped for.

  Once in the room, she turned down the covers and closed the shutters. Liselle looked to be a couple of inches shorter than his six feet of height. “There, it should be nice and dark for you to sleep.” Her voice was like a soft stream running through the forest. “I’d love to hear about the places you visited. They must be wonderful.” Her eyes lit up and she clapped her hands in excitement.

  “They’re exciting . . . but not always wonderful. The idea of seeing them may sound fun now, but were you to visit those places . . .” He shook off dark thoughts. “I’m sorry. It’s not good for me to scare you.”

  “My father and uncle try to scare me about it all the time.” A wistful sigh escaped her lips. “I want to see the world. I know it’s dangerous, but I don’t care.”

  “I felt the same way when I left and would do it again.” Tathan ran his fingers through his hair. “This is home, but it’s not exciting. There’s no adventure.”

  “Then you think I should be allowed to explore the world?” Liselle looked hopeful at the thought of an ally.

  “No. It’s a bad place and most people die.” Tathan realized that was an overly harsh view of the world, but it was how he had come to feel.

  “Oh.” Her shoulders slumped. “Of course. Well, I should get to chores now. Mother will be wanting my help.”

  Tathan placed a gentle hand on her upper arm. “If you wish to explore the world, then you can always go. There comes a point where your life is yours to live even though it may hurt others.”

  “Really?” Liselle bit her lower lip in thought. “I don’t know what to do. Mother wants to take me to Rothton to find a husband.” She rolled her eyes in exasperation.

  “That’s where my mother is from, which means Aunt Sherrie is from there too, right? She never told me she had a sister.”

  “Your mother left on bad terms with our grandparents.” She shrugged. “I don’t want to get married. I want to explore the world, have adventures and find a handsome prince!” Liselle twirled with her arms in the air.

  “I understand. That’s exactly how I felt when I left . . . well, minus the part about the handsome prince.” He grinned.

  “Oh, but you would make such a lovely bride.” Her laughter was bright and innocent. She flopped on the bed. “I really don’t want to go to Rothton to find a husband. What am I to do, Tathan?”

  Why was she asking him? “I’m not sure. It seems like women are always supposed to get married, men too I suppose. My parents wanted me to go to Rothton to find a wife. Father was upset when I refused.”

  “I didn’t know that.”

  “He didn’t hold on to his anger. Father realized I was going to leave. He sat with me and told me what little he knew of the world. Then he let me know he loved me.”

  “I don’t think my father will be quite so understanding.” Liselle sprang to her feet. “Get some rest. I’ll wake you when dinner is ready.” She left the room, closing the door behind her.

  Tathan sat on the bed a little longer. After a bit, he went to the window and opened the shutters. It was a beautiful day. Birds in the trees sang their lovely songs. Flowers were in bloom and their fragrance filled the air. There were far more flowers than he remembered. Tathan took a deep breath then exhaled, letting tension flow from his body. It was nice to relax for the first time in ages.

  He stayed at the window for a time before going to bed. The covers were soft and smelled of spring air. Tathan drew his sword and lay it down next to him as usual, but couldn’t sleep. Getting up, he sheathed his sword and leaned it against the nightstand. A moment later, he was resting peacefully.