The Sword of Truth tgc-1 Read online

  Lee walked over and placed his hand on Gewey’s shoulder. “I’m sure he had his reasons. And considering what happened tonight, I’m grateful he didn’t.”

  Gewey looked up at Lee questioningly.

  “Please just get ready,” said Lee. “When the dawn comes, we’ll talk.”

  Lee gently pulled Gewey to his feet.

  “No need to pack,” said Lee. “I have clothes and provisions at my estate being readied as we speak. I need you to saddle your horse now.”

  “I don’t have a saddle,” said Gewey. “Never needed one. Besides, my horse has never been ridden; she’s a bloody work horse.”

  Lee pondered the situation, then spun around and headed to the door. “I guess you have time to pack a few things after all,” he said as he opened the door and headed in the direction of the barn. “But be quick.”

  Gewey did as he was told. He got dressed and packed a few clothes, personal items, and the last loaf of bread in the house. Once packed, he looked around, doused the flames in the fireplace, and turned off the lanterns. He had just grabbed his wool jacket when Lee burst through the door.

  “Good, you’re ready,” said Lee. “Let’s go. Don’t worry, if we need anything else, we can pick it up along the way. I’ve left word with my staff to take care of the farm while we’re gone, so don’t worry about that.”

  Gewey nodded curtly as they stepped outside. Apparently, Lee had been planning this for quite some time. Lee stowed his sword in the wagon and wrapped it in a blanket. Gewey’s horse, not accustomed to being handled by a stranger, stamped nervously. Lee’s own horse had been tied to the back of the wagon. It wore no saddle; Gewey suspected that Lee was in too much of a rush to bother with one.

  “I suppose it will look less conspicuous if both of us ride into town on your wagon, rather than racing in on horseback; that is, if they don’t notice I’m wearing nightclothes,” said Lee. His tone was excited, and his movements were graceful and quick. Gewey marveled at how fast Lee could get things done. “Throw your pack on the wagon and let’s go.”

  Gewey calmly obeyed. He still wasn’t satisfied with the reasons Lee had given for such a quick departure, but he did know that whatever was happening, the dream was real, and that thought made him afraid. Just thinking about it made the weight of the darkness return.

  “Stop thinking about it,” Lee scolded as he climbed up beside Gewey.

  “What do you mean?” Gewey responded, startled. ‘Surely Lee can’t read my mind,’ he thought.

  “You know what I mean, boy,” said Lee. “If you think about him, he may be able to find you. Until we figure out how he located you in your dreams, we must be cautious.”

  Gewey didn’t reply. Instead he focused his thoughts on the sound of his breath and the movement of the wagon. It was three miles to Lee’s estate, which was situated just north of the village, next to the river.

  It took them a little more than an hour to get there. Several roads had been built leading to Lee’s home; this was more than the village council deemed necessary, but since Lee was willing to both pay for construction himself and use local labor, they raised few objections. It did, however, lead to rumors about his eccentricities. Some folks had even said that he had built tunnels, but Gewey had always ignored such gossip.

  Lee’s estate was built across fifty acres-a small property for a man of his apparent wealth. But the land was among the finest in the area, with most of it dedicated to the keeping of his many horses. The house itself looked modest from the outside. It was adorned simply in northern fashion. The single story dwelling had been built mostly of stained cedar with cherry inlay surrounding each window, and the roof was made from red tile imported from the north. Symbols of the Nine Gods were carved into the stone driveway that led from the main avenue to the front door. Although no blooms could currently be seen, a well-tended garden had once dominated the front yard; at its center stood a statue of Gerath, patron god of Sharpstone. Three horses waited in front; two were saddled, and one was packed full with supplies. The large oak door was already open and Millet, one of Lee’s servants, stood just inside. He was holding a small box wrapped in silk cloth.

  Lee stopped the wagon and leapt down. He retrieved his sword from the cart and placed it in its scabbard, attaching it to his saddle. He walked up to Millet and took the box, whispering something in the servant’s ear. Millet disappeared into the house.

  “Saddle up,” Lee said to Gewey. “I won’t be a moment.”

  Lee turned and ran into the house while Gewey grabbed his belongings. He’d barely had a chance to stow his gear and mount his horse when Lee returned, dressed in a soft leather travel outfit and a black wool cloak. He carried a long sword sheathed in a plain brown scabbard. Lee walked up to Gewey’s horse and attached the sword to his saddle.

  “I’d invite you in, but time is short,” said Lee, and he climbed onto his horse. “You’ll have the pack horse in tow for now. If we meet anyone we know along the way, we’ll say you’re accompanying me as I visit relatives in the north. People will get suspicious after a week or so, but Millet has instructions to keep the deception alive as long as possible.”

  “Where are we going?” Gewey asked.

  “West,” answered Lee, and pulled the hood over his head.

  Gewey pressed the issue. “West where?”

  “Save your questions for now,” he replied. “We’re too close to home, and I won’t risk drawing attention. Believe me, boy; what I have to tell you is worth waiting to hear.” Lee checked up and down the avenue, and seeing no one, urged his horse on, heading north.

  “I thought we were going west,” said Gewey.

  “Don’t be stupid,” replied Lee irritably. “If anyone sees us, they need to see us heading north. There’s a river crossing used by smugglers not far from here, but we can’t be seen making for it. It’s the long way around, but there’s no choice. Now be quiet, we have a lot of distance to cover before dawn.”

  To Gewey’s relief, they met no one along the way. The cold night air kept him from dozing off. The moon was new, and there was not a cloud in the sky. Gewey looked up at the stars and searched out the constellations his father had taught him when he was small. Posix, Goddess of the Dawn, shined brightly in the darkened sky, and Gewey thought about the nights that he and his father had spent stargazing.

  “Gewey,” Lee said suddenly, shocking him to attention. “Dismount.”

  Lee and Gewey led their horses into the woods on the west side of the road. The forest in this area was thick and treacherous. Gewey could barely see a thing, but Lee seemed to know exactly where he was. The ground was rough and uneven, and Gewey tried not to curse aloud as he tripped over roots and walked headlong into low hanging branches.

  It was nearly dawn, but the thickness of the trees blocked out the light. The air was still and damp, and the only sound he heard was that of their footsteps and the heavy breathing of the horses.

  “We’re here,” Lee said.

  Gewey nearly ran into Lee’s horse. At first, he couldn’t see where “here” was, but then he spotted dim light shining ahead where the forest opened into a small clearing. As they entered, Gewey could see that it was at most half an hour past sunrise. The soft grass was drenched in morning dew, and Lee began unloading the pack horse and setting up camp.

  “We travel at night and rest in the day for the time being,” said Lee. “It’ll take a couple of days to get used to, but I don’t want to risk being seen for now.”

  Gewey found his own pack and pulled out the loaf of bread. He offered some to Lee, but he refused.

  “At least we won’t need a fire,” Gewey joked, plopping down on a blanket.

  Gewey munched on the bread, watching as Lee finished setting up camp and checking the horses. He’d thought of everything; they had blankets, pots, rope, food, and even a small tent in case of bad weather. Gewey wondered how Lee had prepared in such a short time.

  When Lee finished his preparations, he pulled
out a small sweet cracker from one of the bags and sat across from Gewey.

  “Well…” Lee paused. “I guess it’s time to tell you want you want to know.”

  Gewey leaned forward, determined not to miss a single word.

  Chapter 3

  “I guess the best way to start is by telling you a bit about my life, and how I came to live in Sharpstone,” Lee began. “Despite what I have told you, I was not born a northern lord. I was born on the coast of the Western Abyss in a small fishing village. My father was a fisherman and died at sea when I was eight. My mother was a beautiful woman, but full of spite and anger. She resented being a lowly fisherman’s wife, and hated my father for it. When he died, I think she hated him even more. After his death, she joined the Temple of Saraf, God of the Sea, as a novice. Without a husband and burdened with a child, she was left with no other options.

  “The Temple sent us both to the city of Hazrah, north of the Razor Mountains. Though I think my mother would have preferred they hadn't, I was made an acolyte so I could stay with her."

  “For the first three years we lived in Hazrah, I hardly saw the city past the Temple doors. I hated it there and longed to leave. One day, Lord Dauvis Nal’Thain came to the Temple looking for a personal attendant. His last attendant had been killed, defending him from an assassination attempt. The High Priestess was reluctant to provide assistance, but could not refuse a lord, especially one as powerful as Lord Dauvis. She told him that he could pick an acolyte, as long as he agreed to pay all his wages and compensate the temple for the loss. She invited Lord Dauvis to stay the night so he could observe us at work, at a banquet in his honor.

  “None of the others wanted to be chosen, but I was eager. Temple life was dull, monotonous, with endless days of cleaning and scrubbing, and endless nights of prayer and fasting. At the banquet, I did everything I could to be noticed, but Lord Dauvis barely looked at me. I remember how upset I was that night. I just knew I’d be stuck at the temple forever.

  “The next morning, to my great surprise, my mother woke me early and told me to pack my belongings, that I had been chosen. I think it was the first time I had ever seen tears in her eyes. She helped me pack without a word, and led me to the office of the High Priestess.

  “When I entered, Lord Dauvis was standing alone at the back of the room. He wasn’t a very tall man; though I was only eleven years old, I stood nearly as tall as he. What he lacked in height, however, he made up for in girth. Though the man must have weighed three hundred pounds, he moved with surprising agility.

  “My mother put her hand on my shoulder, whispered ‘Farewell,’ and left the room. It was the last time I was to see her.

  “Lord Dauvis looked me up and down and grunted. ‘I expected more,’ he said. I wasn’t sure if he was talking to me or to himself so I kept quiet.

  “‘What’s your name, boy?’ he asked.

  “‘Lee Starfinder,’ I replied. I did my best not to sound afraid.

  “Lord Dauvis explained what my duties would be. Mostly, they consisted of running messages, doing chores, and seeing that his meals were ready on time. All of that was fine by me. Anything was better than rotting away at the Temple, and from the sound of it, the work for Lord Dauvis would be a lot easier as well.

  “The High Priestess was waiting for us at the entrance. She bowed to Lord Dauvis and asked that he send regular reports of me. He nodded, and thanked her for her hospitality. She gestured towards me and said, ‘Do not dishonor this temple boy, or I will know about it.’ I remember smiling with excitement as I walked out of the temple doors for the last time.

  “Life with Lord Dauvis was harder than I had thought it would be. He was unmarried and had no children, so I spent every waking hour attending his needs. For five years, I ran his errands, arranged his schedule, and saw to his meals. I don’t think I stopped moving for more than a minute, but to tell you the truth, I loved it. I was living life outside the Temple. Hazrah was a bustling metropolis that breathed a life of its own, and my duties frequently had me traveling to nearby towns and villages. I learned more about the world in one month, under the service of Lord Dauvis, than I had in my entire life. As I got older, he gave me more responsibilities. Eventually, I acted as his proxy during minor business deals and spoke in his stead at meetings with local politicians.

  “I think I would have been happy to live out my life in service to Lord Dauvis, but the Gods had other plans. When I was sixteen, the two of us were traveling to Pendleton-a village two days ride to the west- to mediate a labor dispute, when suddenly our coach was attacked. Apparently, the mayor was afraid that he would be caught pocketing gold intended for village construction. His plan was to make it look like bandits had robbed and killed us, stealing all the accounting records and making any investigation impossible.

  “When they attacked, I tried my best to protect Lord Dauvis; but I had never been taught to fight, and was quickly overcome. I was knocked to the ground and bleeding from a knife wound to my arm. A large man jumped onto my chest and was about to slit my throat. I braced myself, knowing I was about to die, when suddenly the man’s head separated from his shoulders and rolled to the ground beside me. I looked up and saw Lord Dauvis swinging his sword and fighting like a madman. He took on five bandits single handedly; one after the other fell to his sword, but in the end, it wasn’t enough. In desperation, one of the bandits flung a long knife at Lord Dauvis that pierced him through the belly. Ultimately, the attackers were all dead and Lord Dauvis lay dying. I remember how scared I was as I watched him pull out the knife. Blood soaked his waistcoat and spilled to the ground, but he bore the pain in silence.

  “I helped him into the coach and hurried back to the manor. By the time the physician arrived, he was near death. It took three servants to force me out of the room, and even then, I didn’t wander more than a few feet from his chamber door. Hours seemed like days, and when the physician finally emerged he told me that Lord Dauvis was asking for me.

  “He looked so pale and weak, laying there in his bed. No one was in the room but the two of us. He beckoned me to come closer and smiled.

  “‘Lee’ he said, ‘I don’t have much time, so listen carefully.’ He reached up and took my hand. ‘It was no accident that you are in my service. A week before you came here, I was told by the Oracle of Manisalia that I was to take you into my home and protect you. She said you were important, and that one day you would help save the world. I wasn’t sure if I believed her, but I wasn’t about to take the chance. Now, I think that I do believe.’

  “He called out for the housekeeper, who brought him a scroll sealed with the crest of his family.”

  “‘I’m leaving you everything,’ he said. I was stunned. ‘My wealth and title will be passed to you. I’ve already made all the arrangements, so there will be no one that can dispute your claim.’

  “I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. ‘Why?’ I cried. ‘Why would you do this?’

  “’Because of what else the Oracle told me,’ he answered, still smiling.

  “’What did she tell you, my lord?’ I asked. I could feel his grip loosen. He was slipping away.

  “He pressed the scroll into my hands and said, ‘Promise me you will take care of my house and servants. You’re a Nal’Thain now.’”

  “Tears were streaming down my face. ‘I promise,’ I wept.

  “Lord Dauvis closed his eyes, and whispered his last words: ‘Go see the Oracle.’”

  Lee paused and wiped his eyes.

  “In the weeks that followed, I set about the business of learning to be a lord. I was now looked upon as Lee Nal’Thain, the son of Dauvis Nal’Thain.

  “I sent for my mother at the temple, but learned that she had left the order shortly after I went to serve Lord Dauvis and had left no clue as to her whereabouts. I spent a small fortune trying to find her, but eventually gave up the search.

  “It was almost a year before I went to see the Oracle. I was afraid of what she would tell m
e, so I kept putting it off. Millet was the one who finally convinced me to go. You’ve met him at my estate. He’s been with me a long time.

  “It was a seven day journey to Manisalia. The town was quiet; it had a few shops, an inn, and a livery, but little else. I had pictured a city filled with pilgrims, and thought I’d be able to see the Temple towering from a mile away, but I didn’t. I actually had to ask for directions.

  “The Temple of the Oracle turned out to be a small closed pavilion set upon a massive marble floor. The floor had been built on a foundation where you would expect a temple to be; according to legend, it was located on the very spot where the Gods first breathed life into humankind. A short flight of alabaster steps covering the small distance from the ground to the ‘temple floor’ was the only other man-made structure. Later I learned that three temples had originally been built there. All had collapsed one after the other, only days after they had been built, leaving only the foundation and the floor intact. Taking it as a sign from the Gods and fearing for the safety of the Oracle, it was decided not to attempt building a fourth.

  “I had planned on a long stay. I figured I would be one of many waiting to see her, but as soon as I walked up, a young girl dressed in white linen robes approached me.

  “’It’s about time you got here, Lord Starfinder,’ she said, using my given name. She took my hand. ‘Come, she’s waiting.’

  “Needless to say I was surprised, but I let her lead me up the stairs-past men and women who looked as if they’d been waiting for a long time-and straight into the pavilion. I looked around for a second. A large green carpet covered the entire floor and pillows lay scattered everywhere. A few uncomfortable-looking chairs lined the walls and a number of dim lanterns hung from ropes strung across the pavilion’s support beams. Whatever I expected, this wasn’t it, and for a moment, I thought someone was playing a joke on me. The pavilion’s sole occupant was sitting on the floor, legs crossed, holding a rag and playing tug-o-war with a puppy. She was wearing green cotton trousers and a brown tunic. Her feet were bare and she wore no jewelry; nothing about her indicated that she was indeed the famous Oracle of Manisalia. She ignored me at first, clearly enjoying herself, and I was just about to walk out when she finally spoke to me.