The cold of night settled over Careath, and the air was especially frigid. A strong northwest wind blew leaves in the empty streets. A fire was crackling and popping in the great hall. Servants were bringing food to the tables of weary men who showed the face of battle. “Where are Termâs and Cai?” Saron sat down and looked at their empty spots. “They will be here soon.” Mia grinned. “Sorry, we’re late.” The two young ones came scampering in and sat down at the table out of breath. “Good to see you in one piece.” “Oh, hello, Erwaith. How are you?” “Good, and you?” He looked at Cai and grinned. “Fine…just fine.” As they talked, food and drink were served. Termâs stood up and rolled out several old maps. “We must go by land and sea.” “How?” Sacio was still dipping his bread in his wine. “We discussed this earlier…remember? You and I must follow the beasts and Erwaith can lead the others by sea to Ver Nooy. “I know, but what if t
On the ninth day of the siege of Ver Nooy, a messenger approached Termâs with some hopeful news. The message came from Gerdar, the capital of Lodor. “Termâs, sir.” “Yes?” “My name is Pyllar.” “Go ahead and speak, Pyllar.” Termâs was seated near a low fire, as were many others, wondering what to do. “Julla and Hélarion are on their way north with an army gathered from the far reaches of southern Menia. They will arrive here tomorrow.” Pyllar stood waiting for some kind of response from the young guard. There was none at first, just a blank stare. “That is good news.” Sacio nearly shouted. “Don’t you think so, Termâs?” Termâs was staring at the charred city. Evidently, the mountain trolls were standing guard on the South wall. “Look, Termâs,” Sacio continued, “we’ve stopped them here in Ver Nooy.” “Have we?” “It seems so.” “I am not convinced yet.” “Don’t they usually keep moving on?” “Yes…but Ver Nooy is a large city. The
By sunset, Termâs had searched most of the battlefield and had found no survivors. He started lining up bodies in rows for burial. He still did not know how he would bury all the dead as he stopped a moment and took a long look around. Twilight was settling in and the shadows were long on the field. His heart sank. His moment of reflection was interrupted by the sound of footsteps. Termâs fell to the ground and got next to a corpse. The footsteps got louder and came over the hill. They seemed to stop just behind him. It sounded like several people, but he could not tell if they were friends or foes. He turned his head slightly and opened one eye. He could not see who it was or what it was. His heart was racing when he heard a voice. “Who laid out the bodies?” “I don’t know. I see no one alive.” Termâs thought he recognized one of the voices, but he could not be certain with his heart thumping so loudly. The two people moved again and were closer to him, but dark
Appendix 1 Clans at the Time of The Gathering*Ancient Clan Clan Leader LocationTorac Toran* Fëornir Cathar" Tared* Sacio (Myllyof’s brother) Myrmidar" Tyr Börnir DanlòsM’charon M’chuin* Toor Elear" M’char* Kéman Darnir" M’chak Owan SòlasVerion Veron Bouron Velara" Viraghon Menyr Ankar" V’ron Lucôs MenlenarGordar Goran Kelar Nolor" Gratar Dasea IV Nesmenia" Gor Eron Manar" Gronan Menrath III Nezea
Part One The Journey The tempest had passed. The rumbles of thunder were fading, and the flashes of lightning were moving away as Yvayn, son of Myllyof, son of Myrmidon, sat on the rocky edge of an ancient water-worn shoreline. He looked up to see the sun glowing in a rich amber hue as it set under the towering clouds. He had been watching the tide in its relentless march up the shore toward his perch as it has moved for eons before him. The white foam climbed ever closer toward him, hardly stopping before another wave crashed again. More rumbling came and went as the winds brought a cool breeze off the water. The smell of the sea wafted up into his face misting him with a soft sheen of brackish water. He wiped his forehead as one particularly large wave crashed against the rocks with a ferocious deafening break. His thoughts were heavy. He had reached the age of his sixteenth year when every Menian male must make the ceremonial Anointment journey. Yvayn had heard rumors th
The afternoon was warm with clouds slowly rolling over Yvayn’s head toward the Southeast; again, he was alone in the field looking at the ocean. He watched the seagulls hovering over the edge of the water looking for morsels of food. There was a gentle, cool breeze coming off the land; the storm from the day before had brought with it cooler air. Summer was beginning to lose its fight as the autumnal winds of the great northern expanse began to advance south. Away in the distance, he could make out the shapes of merchant vessels heading toward Careath with their sails billowing outward in the strong ocean winds. The waves were crashing on the shore leaving heaps of foam in their wakes. Large balls of gray clay were rolling about the sand with the waves pushing and pulling at them. Yvayn remembered taking some of these when he was young and making a fort on the beach. It was not long before he heard the sound of footsteps coming up behind him. He turned around quickly thinkin
The road out of Dymor turned almost due north. The coast of Myrmidar ran north before turning west to the delta of the Mondo River where Careath was located. The North gate of Dymor was guarded on both sides by statues of two former clan leaders, Enor and Torak. They were the chiefs who led the clan north to Myrmidar after the Wars with Raka. The road on this side of Dymor was lined with grass rather than low bushes. The sky was clear as the four moved quickly through the morning air. Ancient forests dotted the landscape just within view on the eastern side of the road. To the west the ancient fields rolled down to the sea. Small farms lined the road on either side and the houses were of a common style, rectangular stone buildings with thatched roofs. Each house had a front door located in the center with one or two windows on either side. Some of the fancier houses had a chimney on one of the long sides while other houses just had a fireplace in the center of the house with
Yvayn woke to the sound of a bird singing outside his window. A gently breeze blew the curtains as he listened to the song. The bird sang a sweet melody as the young prince leaned on his pillows. He began to think as the music from the previous night ran through his head. The singing and dancing of the night before came back to his mind. He remembered dancing with the Semians in a circle. The music was an ancient Semian dance tune played on the shawm, cithara, and drums. He could not remember all the words, but the melody was quite clear in his head. Suddenly he realized the bird was gone and silence permeated the room. The dream he had that night ran back through his mind. The thought of it disturbed him somewhat, but why it bothered him remained a mystery. He figured out that the old man was the same strange man from Dymor, but the young lady was still a mystery. The old man’s face was well defined but hers was a shadowy mist. Yvayn remembered hearing crying but could not