The Halfblood King: Book 1 of the Chronicles of Aertu (16 page)

“As if it were the source of the dreams you were having?”

“I think so, Grandfather, then it changed its color to white and flew off.”

‘You’re saying it became a white raven before it left you?” Hadaras asked, sounding more excited.

“Yes, it was definitely still a raven, just white and glowing, sort of.  Is that something important?”

“The White Raven is a symbol for the Allfather, the world over, so yes, it’s a little important.  And it’s good news, considering what the alternative might be.”

“What would the alternative be?”  the boy asked.

“The alternative would be a spirit, good or otherwise, there’s no way of knowing, but by all accounts, the White Raven is forbidden to all but the one, under pain of utter destruction for any imposters.  You may have just been visited by the Creator, my boy.  Now, the only question is why?”

“Um, Grandfather, he said one more thing, that might seem a bit odd.”

“What was that?

“He said that his ‘grandson’ gave me good advice, meaning you Grandfather.”

“That must be some sort of riddle.”  Hadaras asserted.  “We are all his children and he is a notorious riddler and trickster when he takes on the raven form.  Grandson is an odd way to put it, but I wouldn’t worry overmuch,” he assured Aleron, though he was in fact troubled by the odd affirmation. 
Why would he say ‘grandson’, when we are all equally his children? 
He would pose this to Jessamine, when next they spoke.

“Maybe I should try mixing them now, like he said to do?’  Aleron offered.

“Maybe you should,” Hadaras agreed, having trouble believing he was having this conversation with a lad barely fifteen.  Touching the sword triggered something and the raw power that Cladus foresaw was rapidly coming to the fore. 
I need to make a strong effort to keep this boy on the straight and narrow, lest he become a bane, rather than a boon to the people of Aertu. 

Chapter 17

Zorekday, Day 30, Haymaking Moon, 8760 Sudean Calendar

“By the way, I’m curious if you have tried mixing the red and green?” Hadaras inquired, as they prepared for their experiment.

“No, Grandfather, I haven’t.  Why do you ask?”

“With light, a mix of red and green is perceived by the eye as yellow, but yellow light exists by itself in a pure form as well.  I know that the healing energy is a pure form of magic, so I wonder what the mix of red and green power would be and how it would appear.”

“I haven’t really used the green for anything yet,” Aleron mused.   “I remember from the dreams that it was for making things grow and the red is from things that are dying.”

“And the blue comes from things that are living,” Hadaras finished.  “I believe that the green feeds life and the blue is fed by life, so they are somewhat related.  The yellow relates to green as well, in that it mends life.  I think this is why we perceive them as colors, in the positions of the spectrum that they are.  If you look at a rainbow, blue and red appear at opposite sides, with green and yellow between.  It would be interesting to see what red and yellow produce as well.  Let’s go try some things out, shall we?”

“I’m up for it,” Aleron agreed, “but what should we try it on?”

“It should be something alive, since most of what we’re working with affects the living.  Let’s play with the shrubbery.”  Hadaras led the way to a group of bushes, well away from the horses.  “Try these, to start.”

Aleron concentrated and like before, pooled the red and green energies in each palm and then brought his hands together.  When he opened his palms, he held a pool of golden energy, which felt fundamentally different from healing magic.  He let the color wash over the first bush.  It glowed golden, then faded.  Nothing about the bush seemed to change though.  “Maybe they just cancel each other out,” Aleron guessed.  “It didn’t seem to do anything.”

“Let me check,” Hadaras said, as he coiled his senses about the plant.  “In a way, you are right Aleron.  They did cancel each other out.  This plant is neither growing nor dying.  Though it appears to be alive, it gives off no life force.  You placed it in some sort of stasis.”

“What should I do, use healing to bring it back?

“I don’t think so, since it is not injured.  Try growth instead.”  At Hadaras’ instruction, Aleron generated a green radiance that enveloped the bush.  “That was it; it’s alive and growing again.  Now let us try something else.  They attempted several other combinations.  Green and yellow proved unsurprising, leading to healing and growth, the same as they would if used separately.  Red and yellow yielded an orange energy that caused sudden death, without the destructive aspect of the red alone.  Blue and green together caused rapid but orderly growth, the bush acquiring the appearance of a groomed garden specimen.  None of the colors or combinations could help the one they killed with orange, until they tried blue and yellow.  It produced a green hue, which led to no growth in the live bushes, nor to any other reaction from the plants.  After examining the plants and finding nothing out of the ordinary, Hadaras suggested, “Try it on the dead one Aleron.”  Aleron complied and bathed the wilting bush in the green radiance.  They waited a moment and Hadaras exclaimed, “It’s alive!  You did it boy!  You brought a living thing back from death.”

“Is that even possible?” Aleron asked, shaken by the revelation.

“Never before,” his grandfather stated, more gravely than before.  “This brings up a lot of questions.”

“What sort of questions?”

“Questions like what the Allfather’s intent is, for allowing these powers to be placed in the hands of a mortal,” he explained.  “I think we should get on with the final mix now and see what it does.  We could play forever with combinations of three, but I think it will be easy to predict the results.  Let’s see what white magic can do.”

“All right, Grandfather,” Aleron agreed and he began to concentrate again.  He drew blue from within and red from the soil all around, yellow from the bedrock and green from the sky.  The four hues blended in his cupped palms, forming a blinding white light.  He let it flow onto the bush he resurrected and it glowed with white radiance, but no other reaction took place.

“Wasn’t this one a transformative magic?” Hadaras asked.  “Maybe it needs a visualization to do anything.”  He could sense no changes to the shrub, despite its saturation with the strange power.  Aleron thought for a moment and formed a picture in his mind of the rose bush Jessamine maintained outside the door to their cottage.  In a shimmer of white light, the bush veered into the form of a rose bush, the light then fading.  “Well, isn’t that something?” Hadaras stated at the sight of the rose bush and it’s bright orange blooms.  “What I sense from the bush, is that it still thinks itself a locust, even though it looks like a rose.  It even has the proper number of leaflets, the thorns look right and the flowers appear correct as well.”

“I think it’s because I looked at that rose bush of Jessie’s every time I walked into the house, Grandfather,” Aleron offered.  “I had a pretty detailed image of it in my mind.”

“That makes sense, but it’s still locust, even though it looks like a rose on the outside.  It’s likely because you never felt through a rose, only seeing it from the outside.  Try the growth magic on it and see what happens.”  Aleron did as he was told and when the green energy flowed into the rose bush, a new growth of locust twigs erupted from tips of its branches.  “That’s certainly an odd looking bush.  In good time, I’m sure it will return to normal on its own, but perhaps you should turn it back to locust now.”

“I think you’re right, Grandfather.  Anyone else seeing this is bound to realize something is afoot.”  Aleron, once again, conjured the white energy and returned the bush to its normal conformation, then had a thought.  He reached into the pocket of the vest he wore over his chain and his hand closed over the silver coin there.  He turned his awareness to the coin, attempting to feel the essence of the silver itself.  Then he picked up a pebble and in a flash of white, held a lump of silver in his palm.  “Here Grandfather, it seems to work on things not living, as well.”  He handed the nugget to Hadaras and said, with a grin, “It looks like we’ll never have to worry about money.”

Hadaras took the nugget and replied, “Very impressive…the transmutation of minerals has never before been achieved, but then again, neither has the restoration of life, so this is a great day for firsts.  However, we must be careful of what we do with these newfound powers of yours.  Imagine what would happen, if you were to make gold as cheap and commonplace as stone.”

“What would be wrong with that, Grandfather?  Then everyone could have all the gold they wanted.”

“And all that gold would be worthless,” Hadaras continued, “and all who had wealth in gold would suddenly find themselves destitute, while those who held inventory in goods would become the only wealthy ones.  Kingdoms would no longer have the funds to pay their workers and soldiers.  Governments and economies would collapse.  No, let’s keep what is precious, that way.”

“I hadn’t thought of it that way,” the boy conceded.  “That wouldn’t be good at all.”

“No, it would not,” Hadaras agreed, “and when you are blessed with power, you must think through all the possible repercussions of what you do with that power.  What may seem like a helpful kindness could unleash unforeseen chaos in the future.  And another thing, I think you should avoid the green energy for the time being.”

“Why do you say that?” Aleron asked, in a slightly deeper voice than he possessed that morning.  Hadaras noticed as well, that the boy’s moustache seemed a bit more full and his features a bit harder edged than before. 

“I think it may prematurely mature you, just as the yellow inadvertently heals you as you wield it.  Though you may think you want to be a grown man, I don’t believe you would enjoy being a fifteen year old grown man.”

“Why would that be so bad?” Aleron inquired, thinking it wouldn’t be bad at all to be grown.

“Making eyes at a fourteen year old girl doesn’t go over as well if you look twenty five, lad.”

“Oh,” Aleron replied, Eilowyn suddenly coming to his mind.  He missed her and was often saddened by the thought of not seeing her for over a year.  He was sure she would find another suitor before that time.  How could she not, the daughter of the Steward, beautiful and with all those young noblemen in the city.  “Grandfather, how long am I likely to live,” he asked.

“Halfbloods like yourself typically live over three hundred years, some much longer.  Why do you ask?”

“Just wondering, Grandfather, how I’m going to find a wife when I am grown,” he revealed.  “There are not a lot of halfbloods around anymore and I will outlive a normal girl by hundreds of years.”

“There is no easy answer for that question, my boy,” his grandfather conceded.  “I have outlived three wives and ten children.  It is no easy thing to see those you love fade and die, but you move on with your life.  I take comfort in the knowledge that they have all returned to the halls of the Allfather, where they will dwell forever in comfort.  Believing one serves a higher power and purpose helps one to move on.”  Hadaras watched his grandson, as he digested the words just spoken.  The late morning sun shone on  the boy’s  handsome  face,  as  his concerned expression  was replaced by one of stoic resolve. 
Being forced to grow up fast, this boy is.  It’s difficult for him, but necessary.  We will need a strong man on that throne, sooner rather than later. 

“I like Eilowyn and if she’ll have me, I think I will deal with the outcome,” Aleron resolved.  “Thank you Grandfather.  Do you think we should go now?”

“Yes, that would be wise.  Those look like storm clouds building to the east and it behooves us to find shelter again before they find us.”

***

Gealton sat at the ornate desk, in his private office, deep inside the palace.  Here the gray limestone walls were sheathed in rich mahogany, unlike most rooms in the structure.  Two large oil lamps illuminated the room with warm yellow light with an additional lamp positioned on the desk.  He was reading the latest report that to indicate strange happenings afoot in the land.  On the road to Dhargul, about a day’s ride from Freemarket, travelers reported a patch of land scorched and devoid of trees, the land looking as if it had been tilled for planting and boulders reduced to rubble.  Soldiers investigating discovered some goblin carcasses buried, along with shattered trees and debris.  One of the soldiers recalled a couple well-armed strangers wandering into Freemarket with the story of having repulsed a goblin attack. 
Oh, here it says, one of the goblins had a Chebek arrow through its side.  Hadaras and Aleron, it’s good to see your all right, but try to be a little unobtrusive please. 
He recalled the interview with the courier, Bruno, two weeks prior.  After the spies reported the story circulating about the sparring match at the docks, he called the courier in.  Bruno verified that he had been bested in a friendly match by a fifteen-year-old lad named Aleron. 
Said he was the fastest swordsman he’d fought in years, if ever.  This coming from one of the most feared duelists in the city, though he had mellowed much since his hotheaded youth. 
This, along with the account from the market by Simeon, Hans and his daughter, painted an interesting picture of his future king.  According to his grandfather, a kind and compassionate lad and polite enough by Gealton’s own observation, he could in turn, be a most deadly adversary.  No rumors surfaced yet on the sword or a new king, so all was well on that front. 
It will definitely be an interesting day, when we unveil our discovery to the people of Sudea
, he thought,
interesting indeed.

Chapter 18

Gurlachday, Day 7, Squash Moon, 8760 Sudean Calendar

Fortuitously, they entered Dhargul midmorning on Gurlachday.  The structures of the dwarvish and Sudean calendars are identical, with the same six-day week and five-week month, the only difference being the names designating the months.  The consensus among scholars is that the calendar originated with the dwarves, but it is likely the dwarves borrowed the names for the weekdays from Sudea, as they do not venerate any gods aside from the Allfather and Gurlach, the smith god.  Gurlach being the patron god of the dwarves, his day is one of rest for dwarves, just as Zorekday is for Sudeans.  The gate guards, however, did not have the day off.  One of the guards was a youngster, with only a short red, but still heavy, beard.  The other was older, with a black beard reaching his knees.  Both wore heavy mail and plate armor, but still moved easily under the weight.  Armed with tall double bitted axes in hand and short swords belted to their sides, they made for a formidable pair.  “Good morning gentlefolk,” the senior guard greeted them.  Most dwarves are bilingual to some degree in Sudean and gate guards are required to be fluent.  “What business brings you to Dhargul?”