The Exodus Sagas: Book IV - Of Moons and Myth (92 page)

“I know she is down there, and your friend Lavress. I know, I can see him from here, and Shinayne as well.
Go
.” Kendari whispered.

The deer looked up at him with an awkward glance, a confused stare, and shook its head.

“No? Then you
will
go to the temple?” Kendari smiled.

Th
e deer shook its head to the no
again, still looking perplexed at the cursed elf.

“So you stay with me then, to see this bargain between Seirena and I to completion?”

The deer nodded yes.

“The we will have to clear the air between us, between you and I.” Kendari took a knee and hung his head. “For I know who you are, and I have known for some time, Bedesh of Haven Glen.”

The deer let a tear drop from his eye, and nodded to the yes. The satyr, reincarnated as a deer by the Goddess, sent to watch over his own killer, nuzzled Kendari’s cursed face.

He forced his eyes closed tight, felt the pain in his chest and throat, knowing he had murdered Bedesh in a sacred place, back in Chazzrynn. The horns, the little hooves, the nervousness, and all that he saw had been telling him. Kendari just tried to avoid accepting it.
He whispered, not in a malicious tone, but in a quiet respectful one.

“
I have never said what I am about to say, and do not ever expect to hear it again
.” He looked to the deer, his green eyes watering as he met the forest brown stare. “
I am sorry, Bedesh, please forgive me.”

Bedesh nodded
his forgiveness
, rubbed his head under Kendari’s arm, and stood overlooking the southern ruins of Mooncrest
from far north
. The moment lasted long minutes, long silence from the cursed swordsman and the deer, and the rain began to fall on a sunlit day.

“
Enough of this then.
I would assume that
by your Goddess,
I am not
completely
forgiven?” Kendari thought of the demon, the dark worship in Armondeen that he had seen, and where to go next.

Bedesh shook his head to the no, many times to the no.

“That bad? We saved many though,
close
?”

Bedesh shook his little horned head again, many times.

“Not even close, eh? I thought not.”
He chuckled.

“Then
, we need to head north. I dou
bt the Temple likes my presence.
I would surely be most unwelcome with your
friends down there, and they need their moment of victory, without my interference.
So, where there are dark streets and cities of wickedness, I
will
find my peace
. To Armondeen,
Bedesh,
Queen Andorra will be looking for
us
, so let us not disappoint
.
”
Kendari
of Stillwood began to run north in search of deadly dangers in dark northern cities.

Bedesh took one last look to the city of Mooncrest, then to the sky, and then he turned north. He ran after Kendari, the elf that had killed him,
the cursed swordsman he was ordered
to protect, and the last Nadderi who he
had
vowed to redeem.
For such was the love
of Seirena
,
and her mysterious ways.

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Sir Karai closed Leonard’s eyes by the Temple of Alden, they had carried him there, and laid him there in peace before the feathered cross. The knight of Harlaheim put his rapier across his folded arms, straightened his armband of the Order of Saint Tarumin, and knelt with Lord Cristoff in silent prayer.

“
Alden take him, but know that his blade and his honor, will be sorely missed here. Amen.”
Cristoff made the sign of the cross on his chest and circled it.

The former lord of Saint Erinsburg listened in prayer, hearing the silent song of God, knowing that many had fought and died for a greater good, a greater divine purpose. His ears heard prayer from behind him, from a kneeling Angeline of Charity by the Soujan Temple. He heard dwarves praying by the Temple of Vundren, and elves in front of the Temple to Siril. He smiled, then his eyes opened and his face lost all composure. He heard something else. It was a cry. Not a cry from a mourning soldier, not a cry from one of the heroes he had followed in their exodus, it was the cry of a newborn child.

He stood, tears in his eyes, and rushed into the city streets from the temples. His shield fell from his arm, and the sound was beautiful. He remembered it with his children long ago, but this was different. The baby cried again, and Cristoff ran faster. He saw father Garret, he saw Brunnwik, and he saw Rosana on the wagon, laying down with something in her arms
, and elven priest on either side of her
.
She was radiant as the sun fell on her tan face, and the light seemed to follow her as they pulled the wagon into the streets of Mooncrest.

Cristoff nearly fell, his legs trembling, and he put one hand on her forehead. Garret and Brunnwik bowed to him, smiles on their faces, and stepped aside.
Garret looked up, seeing the temples, and walked toward them with a starry look in his eyes.
Brunnwik walked with, just as entranced.

“
I kept my promise.”

“Thank Alden you are alive, C
ristoff.” Rosana could not wipe
her tears of joy, but he did it for her.

“
Are you well, my queen?”
Cristoff kissed her cheek.

“I am my lord.” Rosana pulled the white blanket back, revealing a beautiful boy with a full head of dark wet curls. His eyes were squinted nearly shut, but he calmed as Cristoff touched his forehead with his finger. The smallest smile curled on his lips, as newborn children often knew and f
elt things that adults could
not.

“
May I…may I …hold him..our…your…”
Cristoff stumbled over his words.

“
Of course, my love
, show our son his new home
.”
Rosana carefully lifted her baby up to Cristoff.

He wept, like a man reborn, like he was a father anew. Cristoff Bradswellen the Third raised the baby high to the sky above Mooncrest. Cheers from th
ousands honored him and the child
, and people flooded toward the former queen of Harlaheim.

“
I give to you, Savanno Bradswellen the First, firstborn child of Mooncrest!”
Cristoff held the baby close now, and stood next to Rosana in the wagon as thousands lined up to catch a glimpse of the baby, and the two brave nobles they had followed
, all the way
across the continent.

Tannek Anduvann cheered with his brother Drodunn, and Dalliunn licked Cristoff’s face. Angeline sat with the minstrels, telling them of how Tubrey saved the day and helped bring Gwenneth back to life. Garret walked the temples of the Caricians, smiling as if a new world had been discovered. The people walked with Cristoff and Rosana, lined up to bow to the elves and dwarves, and dared to dream of a new home here, in such a fabled place.

The former marshall walked toward Azenairk Thalanaxe, pushing through the crowds. He took a breath, took a knee, and looked up t
o the five
brave heroes
. He smiled to Shinayne T’Sarrin
and her beloved Lavress
that she would not let go
, to Saberrak Agrannar
the gray
, to Gwenneth Lazlette, and to Sir James Andellis. His face went serious as he looked to his king in the golden armor
and crown
.
He tried his best to hold it.

“
No one has ever fought for somethin’ more than you have Azenairk. I tell ye’
now,
on
Vundren’s blessed certainty
, that me and mine would fight for ye’ and die for ye’
and yer friends
against any army, anywhere ye’ say. Ye’ be blessed, King Thalanaxe o’ Kakisteele, and I will cross axes with anyone who dares speak otherwise.”
Tannek stood, pounded his axe to his shield, and roared through his read braided beard over the masses.

“Hail Sir James of Chazzrynn and Lady Gwenneth!”

Hail!

“Hail Saberrak Agrannar and Queen Shinayne of Tintasarn!”

Hail!

“Hail to the fallen soldiers, brave men and women that done fought and died for a new kingdom!”

Hail!

“And Hail to me king, the Holy Hammer o’ Vundren himself, King Azenairk Thalanaxe o’ Kakisteele!” Tannek raised his axe as thousands chanted their hails and honors toward them.

Hail, Hail, Hail!

Gwenneth bowed with grace, James saluted the thousands, Saberrak lowered his horns, and Shinayne bowed hand in hand with Lavress. They gazed across all their friends gathered here, for them. All but Zen.
The dwarven priest, now the king of a place that he was told did not exist, looked to the doors to the mines. He waved his hand up slowly, toward the peak
s
, right above the golden doors. There, waving back to him from a white passing cloud,
was his
Thalanaxe family. His father, his
brothers, him mum, and his papi all waved.
No one else saw it, but Zen did. The cloud was
a mountain to him, and he whispered
up to those he loved and missed.

“We did it father, we did
, and fought like hell we did
.”

I know son, I told ye’ that ye’ was the best o’ me. I wish I could be there with ye’, to see what ye’ make of it. But, Vundren willing, I will watch over ye’ from time to time.

“
Aye, I would like that then. Give me love to Tad and Gead, and mum and papi for me.”

Aye, I will, they see ye’ a
nd hear ye’ too.

“
Tell Vundren that Mudren
Sheldathain
fought hard, gave his life for us and all
.” Zen kept waving, staring at the fading clouds above the Kaki Mountains.

He knows son, and he said to tell ye’ he is very proud o’ ye, told me himself he did. Good bye, son, me little agrvund…

“
Good bye father
.”

Zen let his arm rest back down, the cloud passed by and
the white light
faded to the east, beyond the mountains.
He saw his friends waving too, but they waved to the people.
He felt Shinayne’s hand, then Gwenneth’s, then James and Saberrak leaned on his shoulders
. He smiled, knowing th
ey had not seen what he had, yet
he embraced his new family as the
unrivaled
cheers continued in their honor.
He wanted this closeness
to never end, right here and now, as they were at this moment.

Zen whispered and prayed.
“Long live Mooncrest, long live Tintasarn, and long live Kakisteele.Thank ye’ Vundren, for me friends
,
and all ye’ have given me.
”
A deep dwarven voice answered him, not his father, nor his brothers, nor Mudren Sheldathain.
It was someone else.

You are most welcome, King
Azenairk
Thalanaxe, My certainty on that…

Jason R Jones was born September 1975 and grew up in Monroe, Wisconsin. He is an honorable veteran of the United States Marine Corps, a saber fencing enthusiast, and a loving father to his sons, Alexander and Adonis. His love, Blanca, tries to keep him to task when he is not escaping to write. Jason’s flare for short stories, poetry, drama, and fantasy has existed since he can remember. He is the oldest of four siblings followed by Jeremy, Anya, and Cody, and has resided in Southwest Florida since the year 2000. Interests in fine dining, music, meditation, ancient history, film, world religion, and mythology keep him very busy and inspired. He plans to bring out many tales of his own life hidden deep within his epic series. The novel,
“
of moons and myth
”,
is the fourth
installment of eighteen in The Exodus Sagas Octavodeciad
and the finale to the
Heroes of Mooncrest
quartet
, followed soon by
b
ook five,
“from tower to temple
”.

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Illustrations by Jenna T. Lefevre

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First and foremost, my loving companion in life, Blanca. Should she not tolerate all the hours I spend writing, away from her, we would have no tales to share. She gets my heart, and solemn love eternal. To my sons, Alexander and Adonis, blessings and thanks for being the best boys in the world. My family, who is always supportive and there for me, you have my undying gratitude. For my fans, you are the best a writer c
ould hope for, and I shall
continue amazing you with my
sagas. Especiall
y, Will, the master of
technology and laughter
. Also a special thanks to Jason Alan, whom I met by divine f
ortun
e
indeed
.