Legon Awakening
Book One in the Legon Series
Text copyright © 2010 by Nicholas Taylor
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted, in any form, or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recorded, photocopied, or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the copyright owner.
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This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious and are a product of the authors imagination. Any similarity to persons living or dead is coincidental and not intended by the author.
Acknowledgements
First of all I have to thank my family for all their support through this whole process.
My cousin Ryan for being one of the biggest supports
My wonderful editor Tom Peterson
Chris Snelgrove and his constant help
Collin Earl and all of his encouragement
My good friend Denise Garrett for always being willing give me her input.
And most of all I would like to thank the Legionaries. You guys are amazing
Prologue
A New Star
“Those at the serpent’s head first swallow the tail of defeat.”
-Articles of the Mahann
The Senashow walked down a passage taking in his surroundings, trying to remember how to get to the queen’s study. His eyes scanned the dim, torch-lit hall. Flickering light played on the granite, giving it the appearance of shifting in and out of existence. The smell was earthy from the recent rain; he could still taste the last bit of moisture. The scent was not unpleasant; it reminded him of home, as did stone. Most men had a difficult time walking these dark halls without tripping on the uneven stone floor or occasional rug, but this was not a problem for the Senashow, for he wasn’t a man. He was not even human, for that matter.
It was a cool spring night and the castle seemed drafty and cold, no doubt from the feeble craftsmanship of dull human hands. The Senashow hated these old human dwellings. They were so poorly made that they didn’t even keep out the cold. It was cold at home too, but at least you didn’t feel the wind. He honestly didn’t know how these creatures had made it out of the Stone Age.
A particularly uneven stone on the floor caught his attention. Pathetic beasts, thought the Senashow as he walked. They aren’t fit to clean our boot straps, and here our queen, their queen for that matter, is living among them. Disgusting! That was beside the point now. There were more pressing matters on the Senashow’s mind. What if the prophecy is true? What if the new star in the sky this night is a sign that it is coming true? It was not in his nature to believe in what he would call “mindless mysticism,” but he did know that the resistance and the crusade twigs did. If there was anything worse than people believing in prophecies, it was that people usually found ways to make them come true. It was for that reason that he was in this horrid place tonight. One of the signs of the prophecy had come to pass not more than one day ago.
As he passed another corridor he saw a door at the end open, flooding the hallway with light. Bah, thought the Senashow, the animals can’t even see unless it’s as bright as the noonday sun. He was by the kitchens that, when revealed, were full of light that enabled the servants, or rather the slaves, to see what they were doing. As the warm air from the cook fires flowed into the hall, the smell of the food forced him to admit that at least the animals could be taught to cook. Whenever the Senashow passed too close to people he would catch little glimpses into their minds, if you could even call them that. Most showed the fear and panic that the servants felt upon seeing him. Good. Fear your masters, filthy apes! he thought with derision.
As he approached the Queen’s study, he could see the door at the end of the hall. There was a man coming out, another Iumenta like himself. He knew this person. It was Parkas, the Queen’s chief warlord. He was a tall, slender man, with a firm jaw line and an almost wolf-like appearance. His light grey skin shone in contrast to the dark hall, accented by thin lips and pale yellow eyes. At first glance he looked almost weak and frail, but he was an Iumenta like the Senashow. Iumentas, like elves, had deceiving appearances. They were at least fifteen times stronger and faster than any human, with sight rivaling that of any bird of prey, and such sensitive hearing that they can hear a heartbeat across a room. They also were as close to immortal as was possible; they did not age, and would live forever unless physically killed.
None of the Elves or Iumenta looked to be over twenty-five years old. Parkas had been the queen’s chief warlord for over a hundred years. His long silver hair came down past his shoulders, and he was wearing a black belt with a sword attached to it. The sword was in a grey sheath with a polished steel handle. A sapphire embedded in the hilt glinted in the near non-existent light, so fine was its quality.
The Senashow could see that Parkas was looking flustered and displeased. He obviously did not have a good conversation with the queen. Fantastic, thought the Senashow. The queen was temperamental in the best of times, but to have her already upset before he even delivered the news of the prophecy.... The Senashow knew that the news of the prophecy would enrage the queen if she took it seriously, and she should, because it was always an uncomfortable subject.
He walked up to the door and knocked three times. A cold voice came from within.
“Enter.”
The Senashow opened the door and entered the room. The Queen was standing in front of an archway that led outside to a terrace and the castle gardens. The candle light mingled with moonlight, bathing the room’s many books and paintings in warmth. The light from the fireplace against the far wall added an almost peaceful glow. The fireplace itself was square and framed in white marble. His eye moved up the large mantle piece above, which was a tapestry.
It was this tapestry that grasped his attention. It was about half as tall as the room and was made of black silk. In the center of the tapestry sat a silver six-pointed star with a solid pale green circle in the center. Around the star was a half circle in the same color green, and on the other side of the star were four smaller six-pointed stars, which were dark gold in color. He walked across the study to place a roll of parchment on the marble inlayed desk, unrolled it and took a quill from the gleaming bronze set to sign his name. Out of the corner of his eye he watched the silent queen as she gazed at the fireplace, where on either side perched two polished bronze dragons. Their tails wound toward the fire and reflected the light across the dragon’s bodies, giving them the appearance of almost dancing in the shifting light.
The Senashow moved to stand in the center of the room. A fine white and black rug with a depiction of two dragons battling was at his feet. Like the bronze set by the fire, the queen would often look at these dragons for hours while she contemplated. Tonight was no different than most. She stood on the rug looking at the fire. She was wearing a floor-length dress of crushed black velvet, her long sable hair flowing like a waterfall down her back. He caught the aroma of her perfume; it was a light sweet scent that reminded him of the sap of scrub brushes from their homeland. The fragrance was deceiving; it made her seem playful and gentle, like just another silly noblewoman, something she was not.
She turned to look at him. Her yellow eyes bored into him. Irritation was etched onto her strong face, her thin maroon lips pursed in a way that he knew all too well. She was wearing a black pearl necklace high on her neck. From it hung a large pale-green stone in the shape of a tear. The stone was not a gemstone, but it still shone brilliantly, and was surrounded with gold. A small grimace crossed her face. She knew that he did not bring good news.
“Good evening, my queen,” the Senashow said, vainly hoping her mood would soften with some pleasantries.
“Is it?” asked the queen in a cold voice. “My dinner is late and I just spent over an hour with Parkas listening to excuses about why the resistance is still standing. Now I suppose I get to listen to more good news from you?”
It was obvious that she was indeed in a bad mood tonight, and that there would be no swaying it. The Senashow paused for a moment to contemplate how to deliver his news to the queen.
She stood there looking at him with those yellow eyes. Her lips were pressed together again and her grey skin seemed to glow with a hot anger. Despite the heat of the fury flowing off her, the Senashow felt ice cold. Her rage would break soon, and he wasn’t sure he could stand the force of it. He didn’t know and, thankfully for him, he would not have to find out.
At that moment there was another knock at the door.
“Enter!” said the queen with a growl. She was starting to lose control.
A small servant wearing a cream-colored tunic entered the room carrying a gilded silver tray of food in one hand and a glass of wine in the other. As he entered the room, the Senashow stole into the boy’s mind. It was full of fear; he knew that he was late bringing the queen’s food. The chefs in the kitchen were running behind because the queen had changed her mind at the last second, and the boy was terrified that she would hurt him, or worse, his older brother who worked in the stables. His thoughts were plain on his countenance; the boy looked as though a breath of wind could destroy him. He was trembling slightly and froze in the doorway. The boy could see that the queen was angry.
“Don’t just stand there dog! Bring me my food!” roared the queen. Her anger was palpable in the room. A wicked sneer began to tug at the Senashow’s lips. He knew that the queen’s rage would soon be taken out on the servant. He might be able to salvage the night after all.
As the boy crossed the room, his foot caught on the fine rug. He tried to catch himself, but to no avail. The contents of the tray went flying at the queen as the boy toppled toward her. With inhuman speed the queen sidestepped the oncoming food and grabbed the tray out of the air. She swung it at the boy, catching him in the mouth. There was a crunching sound and a stifled scream. Blood sprayed out of the servant’s mouth and arced across the room, covering the wall with crimson droplets. The Senashow felt a slight plop on his chest. He looked down to see a small white pebble on the floor covered in blood. It was one of the boy’s teeth. The boy was on the ground with a hand clamped over his mouth, his tunic now scarlet with copious amounts of blood pouring from his ruined face onto the fine rug. The air became saturated with the salty metallic tang of blood. Oddly, the Senashow thought that this new smell somehow added to that of the food. He thought he might go by the kitchens after he left the queen’s study and partake of the offerings .
“Get out,” said the queen in an icy voice.
The servant grabbed the food as fast as he could and backed out of the room holding his mouth. The queen and the Senashow, now with a sneer on his face, watched him go without a word. Yes, he would definitely stop by the kitchens.
The Senashow looked at the queen and started to talk as if nothing had happened. She appeared calm, and the look on her face was now impassive.
“I am sure that you have noticed the new star in the eastern sky.” The queen nodded indicating that she had.
“It is one of the signs of the rebel prophecy. It says that when the hero approaches manhood and the time when he will cleanse the land, a star will appear in the eastern sky. The star will be brighter than all other stars, and will never dim or change its position in the sky.”
At this point the queen interrupted. “We do not know that this is the star that is spoken of; it may just be a star.” There was an almost bored tone in her voice.
“Possible, my queen, but that does not change the fact that the resistance could take it as a sign that the prophecy is coming to pass. I agree with you that a star is just that, a star, but these animals and twigs are superstitious creatures. They will believe anything that might even look like a sign.” His voice was patient. He knew that the queen had been getting scattered reports for years of signs coming to pass, but nothing ever came of it. But the Senashow knew that this time was different; never before had a new and bright star been seen in the sky, let alone one that fit a prophecy.
The queen took her time in replying. The Senashow knew that she was contemplating what to do.
Finally, and with a careful voice, the queen answered, “I do not think that the prophecy is coming to pass, as there is no way for anyone to see accurately into the future. I agree with you that the resistance will be moving now that the sky has a new light in it. Send out men to look for one that fits the prophecy’s description. Tell them that if they find one who does, bring him here so I may examine him.”
At this point the Senashow stifled a small cough. “Your Highness, if he is the chosen one and you bring him before you, he could… could… oh forgive me for saying it, he could kill you, my queen!” There was worry in his voice as he said this. The possibilities rushed through his head. If the queen is killed all these years of work will be lost.
The queen laughed. “My dear Senashow, it pleases me that you worry about my well being, even if only for your own safety. It also worries me that you would entertain this mindless mysticism, as you like to call it.” Her voice was becoming cruel and soft, and he listened with rapt attention. “If we capture a boy that fits the description, the rebels will come to save him. In their haste, they will be sloppy and will make mistakes of which we will take advantage . They will be crushed and in little time we will rid the land of this prophecy and the resistance.”
The queen continued with a smile crossing her face. “When the boy is brought before me, I will sway his thinking and convince him to join us! I do not believe that there is a chosen one, but the people believe that there is, or can be lead to believe as much. We can persuade the boy to believe in our way and then we will have an icon of our own to hold aloft that will silence all our adversaries, for if you remember, the prophecy does not say whose side he will join. It just says that he will cleanse the land. If the resistance is crushed, the land will be cleansed, and we will be in power forever and finally have our revenge.”
He flinched inside as her voice took on an accusatory tone. “Furthermore, I do not believe in prophecies as you well know; there is no chosen boy, so it will be a human boy in front of me. Do you think that a human could overpower me?” The statement dared him to question her.
He resisted and said, “You are wise, oh great queen; we will set a trap and either way, the fools will spring it. Their own beliefs will bring them down.” There was true joy in the Senashow’s voice now.
Malice flickered in her eyes. “And apparently your beliefs too.”
He stammered, “My queen… I… I was merely saying . . .”
“No matter. You were covering all of the possibilities, no matter how unlikely, and I do not fault you for this. Indeed, it is your greatest strength,” she said conversationally.
Relief crept into him. “Thank you, my most kind queen.”
“Now, we must develop a plan,” said the queen in a brusque manner. “We need to make sure that we find someone who matches the description exactly. If we are off in the slightest all will be lost.”
Deep inside the Senashow’s mind a small voice said, And if the prophecy is true we will still be safe.
The queen continued. “You will send out men to the country that the boy is said to come from. They will search every boy that is of the proper age and look for the mark on him. Then they will bring him back to me.”
“And if he should resist, your highness?”
“Then they will kill him; he may only be of use if he complies.”
“It will be done,” said the Senashow, bowing his head.
They exchanged a few more words before the queen dismissed him. As he was leaving the room, the queen addressed him saying, “One more thing.”
He paused in the doorway and turned his head back to the queen, who was still wearing a calm look on her face.
“Yes, my queen?”
“On your way out, send servants to come and clean this rug.”
“It will be my pleasure,” he answered. Another slight smile began to creep onto his face as he said, “And the dog that caused the stain?”
The queen replied in a calm and emotionless voice, “He fears that I will take retribution out on his brother, who works in the stables, as I’m sure you are aware.”
“Yes,” replied the Senashow brightly.
“Make sure those fears come to pass.”
“Your will shall be done, your Highness,” he said as he turned and closed the door behind him.
Chapter One
A New Dawn Rising
“Love and empathy are a matter of perspective and time. As time passes and perspectives change, we grow together like the tree and the vine, our destinies and lives intertwining in such a way that, if separated from each other, both will certainly perish.”
-Tales of the Traveler
Legon was drowning in an icy abyss.
He tried to hurl himself upward and pain exploded in his head. He opened his eyes to find himself sitting up in bed with his head against the rafter of the slanted roof next to him. Groggily, he rubbed his head and looked around his room. There was an open window in the wall behind him with a hint of pre-dawn light shining through, a blank wooden wall in front of him, and to his left was a door that opened to the stairway that led down to the rest of the house.
His view of the door was obscured by a girl with a mischievous smile on her face. Her dark brown curly hair came down past her shoulders, framing a soft face with bright blue eyes, long dark eyelashes, a petite nose, and full red lips. She was wearing a light brown dress with a white lace collar. Over the dress was her signature pale blue apron. She wore no jewelry or makeup. She was standing next to the bed holding an empty bucket in her hands, and the smile on her face was now growing into a grin.
“Sasha! What did you do that for!” he barked.
“What?” asked Sasha, who was clearly trying not to laugh. “You told me to wake you by whatever means necessary.” She tried to look put out, as if he was the one who had just done something wrong.
Rubbing his throbbing head again, he looked up into the twinkling eyes that looked down on him. He growled, “And you thought that a bucket of cold water was necessary?”
A mock look of deep contemplation came over Sasha’s face. “You see, I couldn’t find a bucket of warm water and well … I suppose I could have been a bit less… oh, what’s the word I’m looking for… rude? But then I suppose I would not have been so apt to rudeness if someone hadn’t put a beetle in my soup two nights ago.”
Legon’s anger subsided a bit. He had put a beetle in her soup two nights ago and she did owe him for it. He took a moment to think about that night, reminiscing about bean soup flying across the dining room and Sasha screaming… Ah, it’s the little things in life, he thought. He’d worried about what she would do for revenge ever since.
Now that he was drenched and boasted a spectacular pain growing in his head, he didn’t have to worry anymore. He should have known better, though, when she had invited him on a breakfast picnic. Legon and Sasha would often go on picnics together, and despite the fact that they liked to play jokes on one another, they were closer than twins. Sasha had brought the idea up to him last night, egging him on by questioning if he could get up in time. And like the idiot I am I gave her an opportunity.
Sasha smiled, glanced over her handiwork, gave a small giggle, and left the room with a slight skip in her step. Legon took a moment to get out of bed, then went to the dresser in the corner of the room and got out some dry clothes. He pulled on a pair of grey woolen pants, an off-white button-up shirt, and a pair of dingy socks. Lastly, he put on a pair of brown leather boots and went into the hall connecting his room with the rest of the house.
To his right was a railing and open space that looked down on the lower floor. To his left were closed doors that lead to different rooms in the house. The first he passed was Sasha’s and then his parents. The hallway was lit by the light coming from the kitchen below. He came to the staircase and made his way down the creaky wooden stairs into the kitchen. As he went down the stairs he smelled food cooking. He picked up his pace at once. Getting up would normally be a lengthy project this early in the morning, but one benefit of Sasha’s little prank was that he felt like he had already been awake for a few hours.
He walked into the large open room that was their kitchen, dining, and family room. A heavy wood table stood in the center of the room and in the corner opposite the front door was a counter and cast iron stove at which Sasha was standing. To the left of the stove and counter was the back door and next to it on the wall was a small mirror with a copper frame. Legon stepped up to the mirror to make sure that he didn’t look too beastly. Staring back at him was a teenage boy with short brown hair, dark green eyes, and a firm jaw line. His skin was unusually smooth. He inspected his face with a look of disappointment, hoping to find the small pricks of a beard. I’m like a girl! I couldn’t grow a proper beard if my whole family’s life depended on it!
Sasha noticed him inspecting his face and chimed in, “I like it that way, Legon. Your face reminds me of a little baby.”
He could see her smirking in the mirror. “You’re on a roll this morning aren’t you?”
She shrugged and went on packing for the picnic. Legon went to a cabinet under the staircase and got some blankets and two long buckskin tubes containing their hunting bows, along with some arrows. Sasha was no hunter, but she was a fine shot and they enjoyed practicing archery, shooting into the hillsides of the mountains.
She wrapped four pocket pies that she had made into a red and white checked cloth, put the cloth into a wicker basket lined with a wool towel blanket, and wrapped the towel around the cloth. She then procured a dark green bottle of cedar from a cabinet that was built into the lower part of the counter and turned to Legon.
Legon looked down at the package wrapped tight in the towel. “Why did you wrap them in the towel and the cloth?”
“It’s chilly this morning. I don’t want the pies to be cold by the time we get up to the top of the hill,” she replied conversationally.
“Oh, good thinking Sash. Let me grab your cloak and we can be off.”
Legon went to the wall next to the front door where four black traveling cloaks rested on hooks. He put on his own, then walked up to Sasha and wrapped hers around her. Prepared for their outing, they stepped out of the back door of the house and began to walk to the woods. The back of their house faced directly into the woods at the edge of town. As they walked out they could see to their right the fenced-in paddock and an assortment of sheep, pigs, cattle, and the family’s horses. Other than the horses, the animals were mostly livestock that townsfolk had brought to be slaughtered in the family butcher shop. In the corner of the paddock was the shed where Legon and his father slaughtered and cleaned the animals. In most butcher shops the shed would be attached to the main building, but Legon’s mother had complained about the smell. One of the benefits of building a separate shed was that they were able to turn the old space where they used to slaughter the animals into a smoker and a large ice box. This gave them the ability to cure meat for people and keep their stock of meat fresh for longer periods of time.
The morning air was crisp and sweet—perfect for a hike. They were able to walk straight into the woods, since the town of Salmont had no town wall. Instead, the city was surrounded by a beautiful view of the woods and mountains.
They walked together into the woods and soon they were completely surrounded by trees as they ascended a steep hill with tree roots jutting up here and there. The pines were small on this hill, but still far above their heads. Sticky sap ran from some of them, giving the forest a pungent smell that they could taste on their tongues. This hike would be difficult for most people in the predawn darkness, but Legon and Sasha had spent their whole lives playing in these woods, so the faint moonlight was more than enough for them to walk in. After about a half hour they reached the top of a hill that overlooked the valley where they lived. The sun was just beginning to make itself known to the world as they rolled out a grey blanket on the soft turf and sat down. They took off their cloaks and put them across their laps, and Legon took a blue blanket and placed it around their shoulders. He uncorked the bottle of cedar as Sasha began unwrapping the pocket pies.
“Sash, did you remember to bring glasses?” Legon asked, looking around for them.
“Oh…” she said, looking perplexed, “I suppose those would be handy wouldn’t they?”
He chuckled. “Yeah, they would. Oh well. We can just drink out of the bottle. Mom doesn’t need to know.”
“That she doesn’t.”
Sasha had been right to wrap the pocket pies. It was chilly this morning and the cloth and towel had kept the pies hot. Legon looked down at the four pies. Three of them were made with eggs, bacon, onion, and cheese, and he knew the fourth would be fruit-filled.
“Sash, did you make enough? There’s only three breakfast ones here.”
She looked down at the food. “Yes, I think so… there are two for you, one for me, and a strawberry one that we can split.”
“You’re just going to have one? I can split the third with you, I don’t mind,” he said sincerely.
“No, that’s fine. I only need one.”
“Oh come on, you’ll be hungry by ten if you just have one,” he said as if he were pointing out the obvious, which he was. One pie was nowhere near enough.
Sasha laughed. “I’m not a bottomless pit like you, brother. I can eat one and be full, whereas I don’t think I could make enough to ever sate your appetite.”
A smile crossed his face. When he thought about it, he had to admit that he did eat a lot. He was big to be sure, but not fat. He was all muscle, but even for his size he ate a ton. He remembered once going over to Kovos’ house for dinner. Kovos’ older brother was supposed to be visiting with his wife, but had been unable to make it. By the time the family found out that their oldest son was not going to be there, Kovos’ mom had already made a huge dinner. Legon remembered with some satisfaction the looks on their faces as he went for a fourth helping.
Now, sitting on the top of the hill with his sister, he thought that maybe he did eat too much. Or perhaps the rest of the world didn’t eat enough. That sounded right.
Sasha and Legon sat enjoying the pies and cedar together as they watched the sun rise. The pies were incredible. It seemed that everything Sasha touched tasted good. Legon had finished both of his by the time Sasha was done with her pie. They drank from the bottle of cold cedar, which was sweet and good with the pies. Sasha leaned over the basket and uncovered the last one.
She had saved the best for last. It was filled with sliced strawberries in sticky syrup, which covered their fingers with sugary goodness. Legon wished there was another when he finished his half of the pie. He was sure to tell Sasha what an amazing cook she was, and that it was possible that no one in Airmelia could compare to her, which made her smile.
They talked about how much they liked the early spring and how beautiful all the new life was in the reddish orange sunlight. There were thin clouds in the sky that were turning from dark blues and purples to pink and orange. They looked out over the small town where they lived. It looked peaceful and serene, bathed in soft colors. The town sat in a valley with tall mountains on all sides. There was no town wall, which was strange for a town in Airmelia; most towns had large stone walls and keeps in the center of town. This was done for many reasons, the most important of which was to discourage bands of robbers from trying to loot the town, and to give the people a general feeling of safety. There hadn’t been a full-on war since the queen took control, and that was almost fifty years ago, but many towns still kept the walls intact. Most towns could not withstand an attack from a large force, but even small villages would have stockade fences surrounding the village proper. However, this was not the case for Salmont.
The town’s people were not amazing fighters, but Salmont was remote and the people lazy. Salmont was in the middle of the Empire and was surrounded by mountains; most people didn’t even know that it existed. The town had no exports and was not a center of trade. This meant that robbers were not apt to come because the pickings were too slim and the mountain passes restricted the routes they could take.
Legon once thought that he lived in the most boring and uneventful town in all of Airmelia. “Even the name of our town is boring,” he told Sasha one day. “We live in the Salez territory so we get ‘Sal’, and in a mountain valley so we get ‘mont’—Salmont,” he said with a shrug.
Now they could see the town from above. It was disorganized, and from on high the streets looked like a big maze. In the center were the old remains of a stockade fence where the town had started. The only strong building was the keep.
The keep was two stories high and made of dingy grey stone. It was a large building and looked almost like a warehouse. Above it flew a black banner with a silver crescent moon curling around a many-pointed star, beside which were three long waving lines. The moon and star were the symbol of the Iumenta Lord Sodomis who was over Salez; the three lines represented Regent Kooth, who was the human in charge of this part of Lord Sodomis’s territory. Kooth was over five towns and ten villages. The town hadn’t been visited in years by either Kooth or Sodomis, but their tax collectors were sure to visit every year, along with the occasional soldier patrol that kept the passes and roads safe from robbers, so the townspeople flew the banner.
They were enjoying the warm sunlight on their faces, when all of a sudden Legon noticed that there was something wrong with Sasha. Her eyes rolled up into the back of her head, her face contorted, and her whole body became ridged. “She’s having an episode!” he thought, panicked.
One moment Sasha was lying on the blanket thrashing and twitching, then the next she was off the blanket on the bare turf convulsing. He ran around behind her and wrapped his arms around her so she would not roll away and get hurt in the bushes or brambles. He was used to these episodes, but that did not make them any less scary. Fear was tearing through him as he struggled to hold on to her.
“Come on, you’re okay, you’re okay Sash, come back to me, you’re okay,” he said again and again, trying to keep his voice soft and reassuring.
She was making a horrible gurgling noise and he was worried that she was going to throw up, which sometimes happened. After a few minutes that seemed like hours, Sasha began to calm. Her breathing became steady and her body relaxed, and she soon fell asleep. Legon was still lying behind her with his arms wrapped tight around her; they both were covered in sweat and trembling. There was a slight metallic taste in his mouth and he realized that he had bitten his tongue.
He had done this many times before; some of his first memories were of Sasha’s episodes. He could remember as a boy sitting next to her bed holding her hand as she slept after having a particularly bad one. This was one of the things that made them so close; Legon never left her side, and caring for her made him love her more.
He held her, willing her to wake. Her hair tickled his noise. He sniffed back a sneeze and breathed in the scent of her hair, which calmed him. The trivial problem of a wanting to sneeze and noticing what her hair smelled like was welcome; it meant that the episode was over. He wasn’t sure how, but he knew when they were over, knew when no more tremors would rock her body. He always noticed something mundane like the scent of her hair or that one of his socks had a hole in it. After a bit Sasha’s eyes opened.
“Where… where am I?” she asked. It was common for her to have a hard time remembering what she had just been doing after an episode.
When he spoke he tried to speak softly, tried not to show the overwhelming relief that he felt. “On top of the hill having a picnic.”
She was silent for a bit, almost like her mind was catching itself up to the present.
“Oh now I remember. What am I doing on the ground covered in dirt, and why are you holding…” she trailed off as she realized what just happened.
“I had another episode, didn’t I?” her voice was full of fear and sadness. He knew if he could see her face there would be a look of worry on it.
“Yes.”
They sat up and Sasha looked at him. He could see her eyes filling with tears that began to roll down her cheeks.
“Why?” she sobbed. “Why does this happen to me?”
She buried her head in the crook of his neck and he felt her hot tears soak his shirt. He did not answer her questions; they were not meant to be answered. Legon kissed the top of her head and now felt his own tears welling up in his eyes. Why did she suffer like this? Was there some purpose to it? He didn’t know, and he didn’t share these feelings with her. She needed him to be strong, to be a protector. They both needed him to be that.
“I wish I could take this from you… I would do anything to make it stop… I would take it on myself if I could.” His voice sounded choked.
“I know you would.” Her tone turned bitter. “But then you would be a freak like me.”
Legon gently moved her back so he could look into her eyes. “Don’t you say that. You’re not a freak. I love you, sister, more than anything in this world. You know that don’t you?” There was warmth and firmness in his voice.
He would take it from her if he could, he would take it and so much more—anything to keep from seeing the pain in those eyes. He wanted her to know that she wasn’t alone; he wanted her to understand that as she suffered so did he, though not in the same way. He tried to convey this to her in his gaze.
* * * * *
Sasha turned her head. She couldn’t bring herself to look at him.
“I know you do… and I you.” She smiled a bit; she could almost feel the love and concern radiating from him. How does he do that? she thought to herself. It’s like he can make me feel his emotions. That was one of the wonderful things about Legon: he had an ability to comfort people and convey love in a way that was unimaginable.
They sat on the hill holding each other, both sad, both scared, and both more thankful for each other than the other could ever know.
It was for this reason that Sasha was not liked in town. Sure, people were polite to her most of the time, but the only person other than family members that was truly kind to her was the town carpenter, Arkin. Sasha had once had a friend that was good to her, but that girl was gone now. She had been taken by the queen’s tax collectors when her family could not pay. People in the town said that Sasha was a good girl, but that demons possessed her and caused these episodes.
“You’ll see one day, Legon. She’ll slit your throat when they take over,” a lady named Moleth said once. Sasha was two years older than Legon and should be married, but was not because none of the men in town were willing to risk it. “Yeah she’s a nice girl now,” they would say, or “Have a demon like that lying next to me? No thanks!” Her brother had gotten into many fights defending her from these attacks; his friends Kovos and Barnin would back Legon in fights and would defend her honor when Legon was not around. Both boys were a little uncomfortable around her. However, they weren’t sure about her themselves, but they were loyal friends and so they backed Legon. Still, the violence disgusted her. She was thankful for the protection, but she was sad that it was done because of her, even though to a large extent it was necessary.
Barnin had left seeking adventure a year or so ago. He was headstrong and had always wanted to find the resistance and join them. He wasn’t anything amazing on a physical level but he made up for it in determination and confidence.
All three boys were tough. In truth, one of the only reasons certain townsfolk hadn’t done anything violent to Sasha yet was that Legon’s dad was the town butcher and they were worried he would do something to their food if they hurt her, which was true. The other reason was that they were truly afraid of what Legon would do; no one in town had won a fight with him in years, and he helped his dad as a butcher, so he had all sorts of knives and cleavers to use if he saw fit.
* * * * *
Legon felt Sasha’s crying ebb away. She looked up at him. Her eyes looked like glass and her face was red and tear-stained.
“Are you ready to go home? I know you have a lot to do,” she said.
“Are you strong enough?”
He didn’t want to rush her; in truth, if it would help he would hold her here all day. That’s what he wanted to do, keep his arms wrapped tight around her fragile body, keep her safe from herself or anything that could hurt her. But he knew that no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t protect her from everything, not from her own body. He could protect her from unkind townsfolk, and he did, but what would happen when the tax collectors came? He didn’t want to think about it and returned his attention to his sister.
“Yes, I think so,” she replied. “Hold my hand on the way back in case I fall.”
“Ok, let me pack up… no, you stay here and rest. I’ll do it,” he said to her softly.
He rolled up all the blankets and packed everything in the empty basket. He hoisted it on his shoulder and helped up Sasha with his other arm. They began the descent to their house. It was slow compared to the climb up, since Legon didn’t want her to fall. As they entered the trees they saw shafts of morning light penetrating the canopy. There were flower buds on the ground; over to their right some pretty red ones had already blossomed, their sweet scent mixing with the musk of the moist earth. Thick green moss grew on the trunks and roots of the trees, and vines with little orange flowers were crawling up them. The air was thick in the woods, and when you entered it felt as if the rest of the world had been shut out. Mist was forming in the low-lying areas, and dew collected on the leaves. As they passed one tree, they noticed that between one of its branches and its trunk was a large spider web covered in dew. Legon marveled at the little structure. “How can a bug build something like that?” he wondered.
Both of them loved the woods; they would live right in the heart of it if they could. They both cheered up as they saw some rabbits running on the forest floor and squirrels high in the trees chattering their disapproval of the visitors. Birds were singing and life was bursting all over the forest. They didn’t stop to practice archery as they didn’t have the time, and Legon didn’t want Sasha to over exert herself. Soon they came to the foot of the hill and were crossing the field to their house. The field was green with wildflowers growing all over. Everywhere there were splashes of color; red and white here, purple and yellow there. The dew-covered plants shimmered in the morning light, reflecting tiny rainbows. It was beautiful. As they passed a clump of tall yellow flowers, Legon picked one and gave it to Sasha. She shortened the stem and placed the flower in her hair above her right ear.
“Thank you,” she said with a slight smile. She was apparently still feeling weak. Soon they could see the back of their house. He could see his mother outside beating a rug. The resemblance between mother and daughter was uncanny; their mother looked just like Sasha but a bit older. As soon as they were close enough to see her face they saw a worried expression cross it.
“Sasha, you’ve had an episode,” she gasped. She dropped the beater she was holding and rushed over to them.
“Yes mother,” Legon said.
“Get her in, get her in!” Her voice sounded panicked as she reached over and swung Sasha’s arm over her shoulders and began to pull them in the house. “I want to have a look at her.”
They got Sasha inside and to the kitchen table. At that moment their father, an average -sized man with brown hair and thick burlap clothes, walked down the stairs and into the room. He saw what was happening instantly.
“Is she ok, Laura?” he asked in a deep, concerned voice.
“Oh, Edis, I think so,” she replied. “Legon, what happened?”
“It happened on the hill after we ate,” he explained, giving the details of their morning picnic up until Sasha’s episode.
“Thank the Gods your brother was with you!” their father exclaimed.
Sasha nodded and sipped a hot cup of something that her mother shoved in her hands. Sasha winced. “Mother, what on earth…?” she started.
“It’s herbs,” interrupted Laura. She was the town healer, which had its benefits if you felt ill but also had its downside, as she was always giving them new concoctions to cure various ailments that none of them knew they had. This was especially true in Sasha’s case, since their mother was unable to figure out what caused her episodes. Sasha had been subjected to cure after cure for years, none of which seemed to help, but a few did cause her to get quite sick in other ways. Once, after drinking one of their mother’s brews she couldn’t eat for two days without throwing it back up. Their mother said that this was her body’s way of cleansing her from her illness. These remedies, of course, didn’t make a difference. Sasha still had episodes, and their mother kept coming up with new ways of fixing them. Legon didn’t know what the remedy was today, but he could smell it and it was horrid.
“Will you be ok, Sash?” he asked giving the drink a look.
“Yes, I think so” she said, but her voice wasn’t confident. She gave the glass a glance and shivered a bit.
“Ok, I’m going to go change my clothes and help dad, I’ll see you before lunch okay?”
“Ok, don’t worry about me. I’m fine now.” She gave the glass another look and placed in on the table.
Legon smiled at her, leaned over, and kissed her on her head. He walked to the stairs and started for his room. On his way up his father stopped him and placed his hand on his arm to bring him in close. He said in a soft voice, so Laura and Sasha couldn’t hear, “I want you to stay close today incase Sasha has another one. You’re the best with her.”
“I was planning on getting a new cleaver from Kovos today, but I think you’re right. I can get it tomorrow and Sash can come with me. It will be good for her to get out and about,” he said, looking at his sister.
“I think she’ll like that. Now go get ready, I want to hit it hard today so we’re not working late.” His voice was business-like as he patted Legon’s shoulder.
Legon chuckled. “I hit it hard every day old man, you’re the slow one.”
His father laughed, shook his head, and walked over to the table.
Chapter Two
A Hard Day’s Work
“To many, the Everser Vald was at one time no more than a commoner, struggling with the everyday woes of the world. Only the trained eye could see the servant and master, laboring by day and by night for those that mattered most.”
-Excerpts from The Diary of the Adopted Sister
Legon hustled up the stairs to his room and began to undress. He went to the dresser and pulled out a pair of rough brown pants made of thick cloth and an off-white shirt made of the same material. His room was flooded with light coming in from the window, and outside he could hear signs of the town coming to life.
At the sound of soft footsteps in the hall, Legon poked his head out of the door to see Sasha being led to her room by Laura. Sasha was starting to look better, and he thought that a good nap would probably help. He got his clothes on and rushed downstairs, stepping out of the front door onto the dirt street. The street was lined with buildings of varying sizes, all made of the same dark brown wood. Many of the structures were starting to gray with age and the constant bombardment of snow, rain, and sleet. Most people in town built their home next door to their place of business, and in some cases the buildings served both purposes. The town did have a central market, but most of the things sold there were livestock and produce, along with the occasional traveling merchant who would sell their wares there.
Legon turned to his left and walked through the door to their family’s store, instantly being welcomed by the scent of salt, meat, and spices. An impressive array of knives and cleavers glinted on the walls, speckling the room with reflected daylight. Because they were butchers, their business was not set by the seasons but by what people would bring in. People in the town would bring their livestock and would either pay to have Legon and Edis butcher the animal and give the meat back to them or sell them the animal for them to butcher and sell to the rest of the town. Oftentimes, people would bring in kills that they made while hunting and would get the meat prepared. The shop did much more than cut up meat, however; they would cure or smoke it if people wanted, and they also would make sausage and other similar products. Because of how fast uncured meat would go bad, Legon and Edis would have to get all the work done in a short amount of time, and if possible they tried to have a one-day turnaround.
“Ok, what do I need to get done first this morning? Who has orders today that will be here early?” he said aloud to himself.
A moment later Edis stepped in, and as if he could read Legon’s mind said, “Moleth.”
“Just the person I want to see this morning.”
Moleth was one of the people that he liked least—she was irritating and very odd. Most people in the town either disliked her or thought she was a raving lunatic. Legon had gotten into several arguments with her about Sasha. Moleth loved to tell the town what a demon Sasha was, and that the day would come when they would all regret not listening to her. And Moleth didn’t restrain herself to criticizing Sasha; she had a go at the entire town, and it was for that reason that no one took anything she said seriously. She would often get into arguments with people because she would say something about their family or friends.
Legon’s friend Barnin couldn’t stand her; his family lived next door to her and he had been subjected to the woman on a regular basis for most of his life. They would get into huge fights shouting insults at one another. The townspeople would often stop and watch the arguments just for the entertainment value. It wouldn’t normally be acceptable to verbally accost a woman in public, but in the case of Moleth people tended to make exceptions, as most, if not all, had been in the same situation with her before. Barnin had even once tried to sell her to a group of soldiers, but sadly the men knew a bad deal when they saw one. It didn’t even take them five minutes to figure her out, and they left the town without Moleth leaving heartfelt condolences for those she inflicted herself upon.
“I know how you feel son, she’s a right piece of work that one.”
Legon walked behind the waist-high stone counter that split the shop in two and leaned over a wooden box that, when opened, revealed a big block of ice that had been collected from the nearby mountains and a shoulder of lamb. He took the lamb out of the box, set it on the counter, and plucked a cleaver off the pegboard on the wall. Soon the sound of chopping filled the air. He was almost done cutting the meat and wrapping it in paper when he heard the little brass bell above the door clink. A short plump woman with shoulder-length blondish-grey hair and a pronounced nose walked in. She looked timid and seemed to have a slight facial twitch.
Her voice was small but still irritating, like screeching metal. “Hello, is there anybody here?” As she spoke she looked around as if the shop was empty and Legon was not standing in front of her.
He grimaced and resigned himself to an unpleasant encounter, “Yes Moleth, we’re here. How are you today?”
“O-oh there you are,” she said with a nervous chuckle. “I was supposed to pick up some…. Hmmm…. Some meat.” As she spoke she looked around the shop noticing the knives and other sharp objects on the walls and shook her head disapprovingly.
“Well how else are we supposed to cut the meat you idiot?” he thought. Moleth was very odd and probably mad. He was already getting annoyed with her. She walked to the counter now and clasped onto it like Legon was going to pull it away from her. She started to speak but he cut her off.
“I’m just finishing up now, Moleth. The meat will be ready in just a moment.”
“Ah, oh well ok… ok I-I guess that works.” Her voice sounded confused and tired as if she was worried that Legon would do something to her; in truth she wasn’t worried at all. She was always like this. She fidgeted with her hands in a way that reminded him of a chipmunk. A fake smile played across her face.
“Why… why is it so late getting done? I am a paying customer after all, you know,” she started with a shaky but surprisingly accusatory voice.
Legon tried to cut her off. She continued to talk but he just spoke over her.
“Sorry Moleth, it will be done in a sec and you can be on your way.”
“She can’t hear you, you know?” said a voice inside his head. “She’s in her own world right now; she’ll be with you in a moment, not the other way around.” This was true. Moleth was prattling on about something completely unrelated to meat and seemed not to take notice that he’d spoken. After what seemed to be hours to Legon, Moleth registered what he’d said.
“Ah, so I take it you got off to a late start this morning?” She said this as if she had figured out the solution to some challenging riddle that he hadn’t solved yet. “Yes, I can see it in Edis’s eyes. He looks worried,” she said, growing more and more confident.
It was true. Edis did look worried. He was thinking about his daughter, and he seemed not to have noticed that Moleth was even in the shop. “Why does he always do this? He pretends that’s she’s not even here and I have to deal with her the whole time!” thought Legon bitterly. In the last few years Edis hadn’t said much of anything to her, and when Legon thought about it he wasn’t sure if his father had ever said anything to her at all. Legon knew that Edis did not approve of the way Moleth talked about his family, and he would have understood if his father had banned her from the shop or even gotten into fights with her, but he didn’t. Instead, it seemed that she just didn’t exist to him.
His attention was jerked back to Moleth. “It was that demon half-sister of yours, wasn’t it?” Moleth said knowingly.
She had apparently been born without the ability to figure out that you don’t say things like this about somebody’s sister. It was true that Sasha and Legon were not related by birth. Legon was by all accounts adopted, but they were still brother and sister. He felt his face flush.
“My sister is fine, Moleth,” he said through gritted teeth. His anger was rising fast.
She tittered. “Na, na she’s not, I’ve always said there’s something wrong with her, just you wait… not that it’s going to matter anyhow. The queen will be taking care of her soon, so don’t you worry.” She said this like she was telling a sick person that they were going to get better.
Her statement pushed any kind or nice feelings from his mind. If any man had just made the statement that Moleth had, Legon would be all over him. He attempted to hold back his fury and counted to ten slowly in his mind. He tried to keep his voice calm but the attempt didn’t work.
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