Chapter 1: The Oak and Beast

After the calamity that felled Kezodel, the audience chamber of the Great Court was nearly deserted. Most that remained were not friends of Kezodel and had no interest in the corrupt man’s reign, and so they left the survivors alone. Like everyone else, these awed onlookers had expected the fracas between the wildman and the judge to simply be the immediate end of the wildman. Instead, they gaped at the large hole in the ceiling and the dead chimera that laid buried under a crush of stone from the broken copula. They were all too happy to cut a wide path around the foreign duke and his well armed associates.

Baet stared at the meteor in his hand, astonished by his luck. He looked up at the hole in the dome, then back down at the crushed form of Kezodel, half buried in marble. He realized the shaman was lucky. The violence that picked him off his feet and launched him into his sister also saved him from the crush of stone that killed Kezodel. Still, the shaman didn’t escape unscathed. His face and chest were scarred by the lightning, and looked quite painful. Still, the man breathed and should be quite fine, barring any further shocks.

Meu bent over the unconscious form of the shaman. Although his skin was blistered and reeked of char, she knew he’d recover quickly. Krumpus was still under the influence of Meu’s venom, and she found the shaman's consciousness in a world of dreams, rich and enlightening. For a second, she thought she might try to pull him back into the real world—but instead found herself distracted by the wonder of his vision instead. She was astounded at what she saw, and not wanting him to slip their bond, she licked venom onto her lips, kissed the shaman, and slipped her tongue between his unconscious lips.

“Now, now,”Scurra frowned at the strange woman, and pushed her away.

Having strengthened their psychic bond, Meu retreated from Krumpus with an apologetic smile.

"How did he do that?" Celesi whispered as she stared at the unconscious shaman. "How did he summon the stone?”

"He didn't," Wenifas stated with a far-away look. "He simply sensed it. He's touched by the gods," she said.

Scurra turned on the priestess. "What do you know of it?"

"Did you not hear?” Wenifas replied. “He did not want the judge to die—as corrupt as he was! He called the man to repentance!"

"And how is it that you know what he meant to say?" Scurra asked. "You don’t know Tallian Hand!”

Wenifas shook her head and turned away with a shrug. "Some secrets are not mine to share,” she said.

Scurra huffed as she wrapped protective arms around her brother and wondered who these strange women were.

"With Kezodel’s death, it'll be a time of turmoil," Traust interjected. "We've not managed to stay impartial in Bouge politics. I think it is best if we return to our own people."

"And where are your own people?" Creigal asked.

"All about the west side of Hearthstone," Traust answered.

"I too hope to travel there," Creigal said. "I track a thief and believe he is in Land's End."

Traust gave a nod. "Land’s End is a short two days from Hearthstone. You are welcome to join us. Any friend of the shaman is a friend of ours."

"I thank you," Creigal replied.

"But first, we must escape from Ebertin," Traust noted.

“Escaping is what we do of late," Creigal smiled. "These are my men: Carringten, Baet, and Toar."

"And the others?" Traust asked.

Carringten answered for his duke. "This is Meu, constant companion of the shaman—and just as quiet. This is Celesi, until most recently an apprentice and servant to Meriona, the Jay. The last is Wenifas, priestess of the Eternal Song, with her progeny, Claiten and Evereste. We’ve traveled with them for over a week, and I find them to be good and honest people,” he said with a nod. “Let them go where they please, in the company they wish to keep."

Wenifas turned on the dark man, surprised by the endorsement. Although she spent a week in close proximity to the foreigner, she spoke less than a dozen words to the man. In fact, she hated him for his part in the murder of Derris.

Still, Wenifas had no one else to trust since Meriona turned on her. As the others talked, she glanced between Celesi and Meu, and decided she’d follow their lead. What other option did she have? Hobble back to Falderfallen’s Hovey and hope Meriona never passed back through?

As Meu was distracted, it was Celesi that chose their fate. "I would go with you even to Hearthstone," she said, with a sideways glance at Toar. "My people lived in the west. They are all gone, dead or slaves themselves, I have nothing here," her words trailed off.

"You are welcome to join us," Traust nodded. "These are my men: Apulton, Elpis, Andrus, Saleos, Aim, the brothers Homoth and Komotz, and my second, Duboha. This is the lady Scurra, a countryman and sister of the shaman. We are all members of the Oak and Beast."

"The Oak and Beast?" Creigal repeated.

"The finest militia in the Freelands," Apulton said with a grin.

Toar leaned close to the duke, "all the militias say this."

Apulton gave a nod as he leaned close to Toar. "We just happen to be right," he said with a wink.

"It is a pleasure," Creigal stated and shook hands with the men one after another.

"Now that formalities are out of the way, I suggest we abandon this place," Traust said. He pointed to the unconscious form of Krumpus. "Aim, do us a favor and bring the shaman along."

Aim was a mountain of a man and the largest of the Jindleyak by a good hand. The sheer size of the Jindleyak reminded Creigal of his dead guard, Vearing. The glaring difference between the two was of course Aim's gentle demeanor—something quite unlike the snarl-toothed swagger of Vearing. "Excuse me, sister," Aim said to Scurra as he gently collected Krumpus and cradled the small man in his massive arms.

They all started moving out of the room. Meu took Wenifas by the hand, her face bewildered and far away. I must go, Meu spoke in the woman's mind. I am... distracted...

"Stay with us!" Wenifas pleaded and tried to pull Meu from the room as she followed the others. "I am lost without you!"

These others shall protect you. Meu leaned close and kissed the priestess. Do not fear; I am never far.

Wenifas frowned—but the others were leaving the chamber. Celesi took Wenifas by the hand and pulled her along as Claiten clung to his mother's dress. "Find me!" Wenifas called as she allowed Celesi to pull her along.

"Is she not coming with us?" Elpis asked the priestess.

Wenifas shook her head as she followed the guard out. “She must find us later.”

Meu watched the party go. With the Jindleyak delegation to keep them, Wenifas and the shaman should be safe; and since she was mostly alone, it was time for Meu to be herself. She summoned the darkness and shifted into her serpent form.

There were still several people shuffling among the ruins as she shifted. One gasped to see her transform. “Chimera!” he called and pointed—though he was wrong; Meu was merely a wyrm. The others turned and stared at the great winged serpent.

Meu paid them no mind as she launched herself at the hole in the dome and surged upward into the sky. Although she could feel the worry of Wenifas in her mind, she concentrated on the thoughts of Krumpus and his dreams of epic splendor. Ethereal beasts of incredible magic and power counseled the shaman. Connected to his thoughts through the venom of her tooth, Meu was exposed to the light magics they weaved in the dream world. She spun upward and rolled in the warm rays of the sun as an incredible peace washed over her. She'd never felt so loved—or so powerful!

Below, the others stepped through a long hall and pushed aside anyone that stood in their way—though most of the court was empty. Traust shouted at the remaining few as they passed, and the Degorouth wisely stood aside. The few Ministrians they saw scurried away as quickly and quietly as possible, still quite frightened by the sudden death of Kezodel.

Traust knew the building well, having taken many meetings in numerous nooks and corners of the Court. He led the group into a garden and quickly made his way down a side path. The party stopped before a small gate in the garden wall, as several guards barred the way. The guards were bored and unconcerned, somehow knowing nothing of the day’s troubles. They stood tall and straight as they noted the approaching militia.

Traust stopped several paces before the guards and put his hand on his sword. He took an offensive stance. "Either you can let us out, or we can let us out,” he began. “But we are going through that gate,” he told the guards.

As one, the Jindleyak militia checked their weapons.

The three Degorouth soldiers looked at their sergeant with growing concern and put out their hands to show they were not looking for a fight. The sergeant muttered curses under his breath as he fumbled among his keys. For his own sake, he could not open the gate fast enough.

Away from the Great Court, the company continued for several blocks. Traust led them into a tight alley, then stopped. There were no other people about. Traust turned to his men. "Pack it up," he said as he pulled off his own tabard to reveal his bare armor beneath. The militia men stripped off their tabards, rings, necklaces, and anything else that marked their affiliation with the Oak and Beast. They stuffed these items into their bags and pockets. With a shrewd eye, Traust appraised the gathered crowd as he calculated a plan. "We need volunteers to go to Edgewater."

"I'll go," Apulton said.

"Give me one more," he looked among his men.

With a shrug and a glance about the others, Andrus raised his hand.

"Good. In my apartment, in the top drawer of my dresser, you’ll find a brass case with a lock on it. Bring it to me," Traust said.

"What's in it?" Apulton asked.

"Coin, correspondence, personal affects —things I do not wish to leave here," he said and turned to his other men. "If anyone else wants items from Edgewater, now is the time to confide in your friends."

The Jindleyaks pressed on Apulton and Andrus and asked them favors. As the list of requests continued to grow, Andrus complained. "There is too much! We shall need another body to carry it all!"

Toar stepped forward. "I'll go. I have an acquaintance in Edgewater I should like to see—if only for a few minutes."

Traust frowned as he measured the young man.

"I vouch for his loyalty and intelligence," Creigal said. "He has no love for Kezodel and his Degorouth, and will do nothing to jeopardize us."

Slowly, Traust gave a nod. He turned to Apulton. "Take the young Bouge with you. The estate is invariably watched, so use the shanty tunnel, and stay away from any open windows." He gave the guard a key. "Meet us at the House of Leaves, and don't dally, or you can make your own way to Hearthstone."

Celesi grabbed Toar by the hand. "I go with him!"

With a sigh, Traust agreed. "So be it. Anyone else have a burning desire to go to Edgewater?"

Wenifas frowned, though she bit her lip. She knew Celesi didn't mean to abandon her. The former Jay only meant to stay near Toar. For her own sake, and for the sake of her children, Wenifas decided it might be best to stay among the bulk of the men.

Apulton, Andrus, Toar, and Celesi left the others.

“Sir,” Elpis began.

Already knowing his concern, Traust raised a hand and turned to the warrior. “Take the Ministrian and her children to your Lady Yandira," he said. "Scurra, will you go with them?"

"What of my brother?" Scurra asked.

"We take him into the caverns of Beletrain—him and the foreigners. It is the best way to sneak them east," Traust said.

"I have no fear of the tunnels," Scurra replied.

"I do not ask you to go for your own comfort,” Traust began. “I ask for the sake of the priestess, that I do not send her with Elpis alone. I would have asked the Bouge girl to go with her, but it appears she does not want to be separated from her man," he shrugged.

Scurra considered his words. With a nod she waved to Wenifas. "Okay then. Let's go."

"I stay with the shaman," Wenifas insisted as she stepped closer to Krumpus. He was the only one she truly trusted among this strange crew, and although he was still unconscious, she meant to keep with someone familiar. “You can drag an unconscious man through these caverns, but I should be afraid?”

Traust shook his head. "I will not bring children into old Beletrain. What if the babe should cry? It is risky enough with so many capable men,” he noted. “Besides, we need to warn the Lady Yandira of what has transpired, and I should like her to meet us at the House of Leaves. We may not be able to bring the shaman out of his stupor, and if not, we will need her carriage to move him out of the city.” He leaned close to the priestess. “If it comforts you, know that you will have less trouble and more luxury with the Lady Yandira."

Scurra took Wenifas by the hand. "So long as I live, I promise you will see my brother again," she assured. “Now come along. I wish to be rid of this place.”

A sense of dread and urgency welled up in the priestess. She grabbed hold of the unconscious shaman and pulled against his hand in hopes that he might wake. A strange electricity passed through his hand. “No!” she cried. A flash of insight caught in her brain. She let go of his hand and took hold of his cloak instead. "If I must travel the streets, give me his cloak, that I might not look like such a foreigner!" she cried.

Scurra frowned and shook her head. She opened her mouth, about to speak.

Wenifas cut off her protests. "I promise surety for it!" She said as she dug in the purse stolen from Fedring. She pulled out a gold sol and offered it to the woman.

For a long second, Scurra stared at the heavy gold coin.

So did the others.

"If his cloak is so valuable, do you not want it with you?” Wenifas asked as she waved the heavy gold coin at the shaman’s sister. “As he is, your brother cannot protect it."

Scurra gave a slow nod to Wenifas as she took the gold sol. "Okay then," she began as she held up the coin. "I hold this against its return."

With the cloak about her shoulders, Wenifas felt much better. She turned and followed after Scurra, with Evereste in her arms and Claiten at her side. She had not expected to be alone, with only her children! Meu was gone as Celesi chased after Toar. Even the shaman was unconscious. Only Derris' murderers remained—though she’d immediately separate from them too. She thought she'd be excited to finally be away from them—but she wasn’t. She was nervous. Her world was suddenly a very different place. She was banished, and found herself wholly at the mercy of foreigners; foreigners that stared after her. She regretted showing such money among them. They all noticed the gold sol. Indeed, things got very quiet when she presented the heavy coin to Scurra.

Creigal watched as Elpis led Scurra, Wenifas, Claiten, and Evereste down the street. "Will they be safe?" He asked.

Traust shrugged, "Safer than us, I should think; for you and I go into the serpent's den."

“The serpent’s den?” Carringten interjected.

Traust nodded. "Below us is an ancient underground city, built by naga. It is a nest of tunnels, a labyrinth that runs deeper and further than any man truly knows.”

“The tunnels run into the mountains and beyond,” Duboha added. “Some say they go all the way to the center of the earth.”

"I think we can take that for exaggeration," Traust replied. "Needless to say, it is not without risk."

"Naga?" Creigal asked. “I’ve only heard rumor of such beasts.”

“They are most certainly real,” Traust answered. "They are intelligent and dangerous, long like a serpent, but with arms like men. Ebertin was built over one of their great cities."

"You know the history well?" Creigal asked.

“Not half as well as Duboha,” Traust noted. “He’s been here half his life.”

"It is a fascinating history,” Duboha claimed. “Hearthstone is staid in comparison. Nothing but farm lands and festivals as far as the eye can see."

"I would call it idyllic," Saleos stated. "Who in their right mind wishes to live above a naga city?"

"Much of it taken from the naga," Duboha argued. "Paid in blood.”

“Much of it,” Saleos shook his head. “You do not know how much of it men possess. The war has never ended. It has been at a standstill since it began.”

"And we mean to enter these tunnels?" Criegal asked.

Traust gave a nod. "We are a formidable lot. There are routes, corridors, entire sections of the underground city under the control of various militias. Indeed, it’s a point of pride among the militias to have a constant presence in Beletrain. We are unlikely to see any naga. The beasts prefer to stay deep in the earth."

"It is rare to run into the creatures," Duboha agreed. "Especially during the day. I have been in the tunnels a great number of times, and I have only seen the beasts twice; once was a corpse, and once was just before it was turned into a corpse."

"Indeed, even in the tunnels, our biggest worry will be other humans,” Traust stated. “The Ministrians are known to use the them—among several other unfriendly militias.”

“Sounds like a dubious course,” Carringten noted. “Should we not stay in the streets?”

Traust shook his head. “It is still the best way to sneak notable foreigners and a comatose man through the city. If we should come across a few naga, we are a good number and quite dangerous ourselves. But if we stay in the streets we are much more likely to run into a troop of Degorouth,” he frowned. “The longer we dally, the worse it will be for us. I suspect as soon as the shock wears off, the city will be thick with our enemies. At least the naga care nothing for our politics.” He turned to his men and waved them forward. "We dawdle. If we mean to do this, let us do it. I'd prefer to be back above ground before the sun sets."

Traust led the troop down several dingy back streets. They came to an old stone tavern several times as big as the buildings around it.

"Meet me around back," Traust stated as he stepped into the front and approached the bar.

"What can I get for ya?" The barkeep asked.

Traust leaned in close. "I’d like down into Beletrain," he whispered.

The barkeep turned serious as he leaned forward and locked eyes with the militiaman, "It costs a pretty bone to get into that den of snakes."

"I have no chabling, and not enough chits,” Traust replied. “Any chance you'll take metal?"

The barkeep's face lit up, "Keep your lousy dragon bone, and curse the Minist traitor that gave it to you!" he said in a harsh whisper. "Only fools decline good metal coin!"

"My man," Traust clapped the barkeep on the shoulder and passed him several heavy pieces of silver. "Will this cover it?"

With a wry smile, the barkeep nodded and led Traust from the bar.

"My men at your back gate. We'll need to let them in," Traust noted.

They stepped through the kitchen and down a long hall. The barkeep opened the back gate and let the others in. He pointed down a side passage. "This is the way your lookin' to go."

The Jindleyak piled through the gate and took an immediate left. There was a small room with torches all about a table. Each man took a torch. Homoth lit his first, then used his torch to light the others. The barkeep unlocked several bars that held a trap door closed. He pulled open the door and revealed a thin spiral ramp.

“Why not stairs?” Baet asked as he followed several of the Jindleyak.

“And why would snakes build stairs?” Duboha replied.

The ramp opened up into a large cavern which was not rough at all. The walls and ceiling were bricked. Despite heavy wear, they were in good condition. Down the length of the long room ran a wide aqueduct. The room narrowed into corridors at the east and west ends, then proceeded into darkness.

Looking closer at the stone, Creigal noted glyphs and symbols all about the passage. "What is this?" He whispered.

"Naga tongue," Duboha said of the characters carved into the stone and shook his head. "Can't read any of that.” Further along the wall were more characters of a different nature, scrawled in red paint. “This is Trohl," he smiled as he pointed at the rough painted letters.

"What does it say?" Creigal asked.

"Danger," Duboha shrugged. "Like we wouldn't know..."

"The water smells drinkable," Carringten noted.

"It varies," Duboha said. "Some of the streams and aqueducts are as pure as rain. Some only looks as pure as rain, and some are outright sewers.”

Duboha gave a nod. "During the war, the Bouge poisoned these aqueducts. It didn't bother the naga, but the poison killed a great many people. Indeed, the poison did far more damage to Ebertin than Beletrain. Some say it almost caused the Bouge to lose their own city.”

“Some plan,” Baet snorted.

Duboha nodded. “Several of the men that did the poisoning were hanged for the troubles they caused,” he shrugged. “Needless to say, don’t bother trying to poison a naga. They are seemingly immune.”

Creigal was about to make some comment about the luxury of being immune to poisons, and how he could have used such an ability all too recently—but Traust came down the ramp and immediately started into the tunnels. "Let's go,” Traust said as he started forward. “And let's be quiet."

The others followed.

~!@#$%^&*()_+ 1.2 +_)(*&^%$#@!~

At the front of the Great Court, Hoapur Brendalfas and other members of the Gray Sons militia dragged the lifeless form of Kezodel onto the front steps of the court. “People of Ebertin! Look and hear what has become of our fearless leader!” he sneered. “See what hubris and pride have caused for the man!”

A crowd gathered and Hoapur told the story of what he witnessed in the Muaha’s court, then told it again as more people gathered. For nearly an hour, he shouted and denounced Kezodel to any that listened. The common people of Ebertin gawked and gossiped about the dead chimera with his great, twisted, hairy physique, his strange leathery wings, and long claws. The poked, and pinched, and prodded the strange corpse.

Eventually, several of Kezodel’s more ambitious lieutenants gathered the men and gumption to chase off the curious locals and gather the body of their fallen leader, in hopes of saving some scrap of the dead judge’s dignity—but only after several thousand commoners had shuffled past and witnessed both the judge’s weirdness and the sordid story of his demise. Though it traveled in hushed assertions and hurried whispers, the news of the Muaha’s death spread like wildfire upon a parched and thirsting landscape.

Author’s Notes: …but this chapter pretty much requires the first book in depth. What a name dump—and new names on top of that! But how to avoid it?! They’re all stacked on top of each other!

Planning to do a polish tomorrow… I’ll let you know how it goes… 2020/01/15

The polish went well! Although there’s little action, and lots of recap, it’s still a nice setup chapter for the next act. Besides, the prologue serves as the hook, and the action picks up quickly in the next chapter, so I’m pleased with how it goes. 2020/01/16