Legends of Origin 1: Sanctuary for the Devil

By Vanessa Finaughty

In his search for the origin of the human race, Liam MacAskill travels to another planet and comes face to face with the Devil himself. He’s driven to claim sanctuary from the monks and nuns at Tridor Monastery, where another stranger to the land lies in a coma.

Liam teams up with Arthean, a Tridorian monk with a dark past and a heart of gold. At first glance, the two seem to be polar opposites, but are they really that different? Together with the monk’s Ilanenorian friends – a strange race of people who live above the clouds – Liam continues his search for the source of everything, which he believes will be found in the Garden of Origin. However, Sah, the power-hungry ruler who hunts Liam, searches for the garden, too. The race is on to see who will get there first and if Liam can survive long enough to fulfil his goal.

On the run, with traitors in their midst and death-breathing dragons on their tail, it’s anybody’s guess if good will prevail or if the amnesiac Devil who possesses Liam’s friend, Joshua, will gain the upper hand. Will Liam find the Creator he seeks? Will the Ilanenorians’ Earth Magic and the winged ryokin’s aid be enough? Will Liam be enough?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Vanessa Finaughty
• Release date: Oct 22, 2011
• ISBN: 9781465740656

Vanessa Finaughty

Vanessa grew up in Cape Town, and still lives there with her husband of fifteen years, her baby daughter and plenty of furry, four-legged ‘children’. Her passion for the written word started her career as an editor and copywriter, and she part-ran a writers’ critique group for close on seven years. She's been writing ever since she learnt how, has always been an avid reader, and currently lives on coffee and cigarettes. Her interests include reading, photography, the supernatural, life's mysteries and martial arts, of which she has five years’ experience. Review copies of all Vanessa's books are available upon request, and fans are welcome to email her at [e-mail] - she loves to hear any type of feedback and answers all emails personally. *** Please note that Vanessa uses UK spelling and grammar, which is not always the same as US spelling and grammar.

Book preview

LEGENDS OF ORIGIN

BOOK 1

Sanctuary for the Devil

Vanessa Finaughty

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2011 Vanessa Finaughty

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Many thanks to:

Alaric Finaughty, my husband, for being ever-understanding and beta reading.

My editor, friend and author of The Queen’s Blade series, T.C. Southwell, for your input and editing skills.

Aneza Lee Immelman, author of the soon-to-be-published The Namari – Book 1 of the Harpy Chronicles, for your input and proofreading skills.

If the Devil came knocking, would you give him sanctuary?

Then the Lord God planted a garden in Eden in the east, and there He placed the man He had made. The Lord God made all sorts of trees grow up from the ground – trees that were beautiful and that produced delicious fruit. In the middle of the garden, He placed the tree of life and the tree of knowledge of good and evil. A river flowed from the land of Eden, watering the garden and then dividing into four branches.

The Christian Bible – Genesis 2, Verses 8 – 10

CHAPTER 1

Thirty-three-year-old Liam MacAskill hurried across the desert sand, imposing mountain peaks at his back, their size dwindling as he progressed. He did his best to ignore the howling wind ripping at his clothes and whipping his dark hair into his face, often stinging his eyes and blinding him. He ignored the relentless rain and hailstones, pelting his face and adding to the bruises and gashes he knew must cover him from head to toe. He also paid no heed to the throbbing in his wounded leg, knowing that to acknowledge its existence would empower it to control him. How pathetic it would be to escape Sah’s wrath only to be ended by a minor wound such as the one his captors had given him during his escape.

It was a flesh wound, really. Nothing more. Just the tip of a guard’s sword had slashed Liam’s left thigh, and it hadn’t hindered his escape in the least. In fact, the flash of pain he’d felt as the wound had been inflicted had made new adrenaline course through him, enabling him to overpower three guards – all at least twice his size, and armed with Earth technology, too. Making his way over the mountain range bordering the enemy palace was what had made the wound a problem.

Gensshei Mountains were usually easy to traverse, he’d been told – if you had a horse to carry you along the winding pathways for the three days it took to reach the other side. Liam had been forced to climb its towering peaks, causing his injured leg to go into spasm so many times he’d lost count, albeit saving him two days’ journey. The soldiers would have pursued on horseback along the mountains’ main path, splitting up to explore the narrower, lesser-used paths. He doubted they would have expected him to attempt the climb – or survive it.

A soft chuckle escaped Liam, and he choked it back, increasing his pace and lowering his head further to protect his face from the hail, although his neck ached from being in that position for almost twenty-four hours. He had not come this far to give himself away with insane, foolish laughter. Liam had nothing to laugh about, and he could be wrong – his enemies could, right at that moment, be climbing the mountains towards him. His leg throbbed more the closer he got to his destination.

The end of the desert came into sight.

Waves thundered just over the sand dunes ahead.

He was almost there. Almost safe. Just over the dunes, a short way down the beach, was the sanctuary he sought.

The sky darkened rapidly now as night came, and Liam found a new surge of energy as lightning fragmented the sky and a sharp thunderclap vibrated the ground. Everything forgotten but the need to reach the dunes, he drew his royal blue coat tighter around him, crossed his arms to keep it in place, then increased his pace to a jog, his bones protesting every movement. He had a bad feeling, and the sooner he reached safety, the sooner it would go away. He hoped.

<><><>

Liam stood atop the dune, panting and staring down at the tableau before him in dismay. The beach below, which should have been soft, white sand, was covered in what looked like broken glass. Dark coldness crept into his heart, spreading its tendrils to chill him further. He looked down at his bare feet, already bleeding from the climb and walk through the desert’s sand. This was bad.

Gathering his senses, Liam made his way down the dune, slipping and sliding a few times. He bent to examine the shimmering sand, and frowned. It was glass. Shattered glass, covering his only route to safety. Safety, about a kilometre down the beach, where Gensshei Mountains wrapped around to meet the ocean. The dunes on either side were too steep for him to climb in his current condition, making this glittering carpet his only route. Liam cursed under his breath. How could this be? Despair grasped his mind as he straightened to gaze around in panic-induced madness.

The shattered pieces were all clear glass and all clean looking, with no indication of where they had come from. Liam’s frown deepened as he pondered his predicament. If he turned back now, he was a guaranteed dead man. He would never make it over the peaks a second time, and would walk straight into Sah’s men if he turned back to go along the path. Those being his only two options, Liam sucked in a deep breath, and, the decision not quite taken form yet, dashed onto the glass fragments in the direction of Tridor Monastery… where he could claim sanctuary under this land’s laws of God.

Liam barely noticed as sand dunes melted into scattered rocks, then solid rock face. His injured leg threatened to cave in, but he sprinted forward, focussed on speed and his destination. Being able to focus so single-mindedly was one of the many benefits he’d gained from daily meditation for the last three years – a requirement at the dojo where he had trained in Ki Aikido and Ninjitsu, amongst other martial arts. He’d hated it at first, but it had been a condition of employment at the private investigation company he had worked for up until recently… Up until he’d met Joshua.

The hail stopped abruptly, and, along with it, the hail and wind, almost as if nature held its breath to see if he’d make it, and his surprise slowed him for a moment, but he rectified that quickly. His coat came loose as he came around the beach’s curve, where a small natural harbour blocked the way forward. The wind came back with a vengeance and whipped his coat up into his face, causing him to stumble. Just then, his leg gave in and he collapsed on the sand, his lungs on fire and his heart beating wildly. He couldn’t feel his feet, which he figured was probably for the best.

Liam pulled himself onto his hands and knees. He glanced at the harbour’s enormous waves in front of him. Lightning struck in the distance. On the harbour’s far shore, something glistened as it snaked inland – a river? He blinked and it was gone. He looked to his right. The narrow stretch of sand that extended towards his right, leading back towards the mountains – what would be considered part of the ‘holy land’ the monastery stood on – was free of glass. Odd. A frown creased his brow again. When he tried to stand, Liam realised that his feet would take no more punishment. He caught a glimpse of one as he collapsed again; he couldn’t see his flesh for blood. He decided not to look at them again.

With a shuddering breath, Liam began to crawl towards the monastery. Walking along the stretch of sand bordering the harbour and up the short, gradually inclining pathway that led up the mountain towards the monastery would have taken a mere few minutes. Crawling along it, however, and in the middle of a strange mixed-weather storm was another story. Liam grimaced as he dragged his feet along the sand. He was injuring himself further, but he didn’t care. The only thing he cared about was reaching the monastery. Everything would be okay then. The healers would heal him with their magic when he got there. Every time he moved forward, he was convinced he could go no further. Eventually, his knees gave in on him, too, and he heaved himself onwards with his elbows, determined to reach safety.

Liam finally reached the bottom of the mountain pathway. Without pause, he dragged himself along it. If he stopped, however briefly, he wouldn’t find the strength to continue. He knew this without a doubt. After what felt like days of torture, worse, even, than that he had endured at Sah’s hands, the monastery came into view, partly hidden by hanging tree branches and bushes. Built mostly into the mountain, the stone-walled monastery rose three storeys, with a round two-storey ‘tower’, the top floor windowless, extending from the roof in the centre.

Tears of relief streamed down Liam’s cheeks to mingle with rain water as he dragged himself towards the monastery at a faster pace, all pain forgotten. If he could just reach the front steps, he would be able to claim sanctuary. He collapsed just a few paces from the steps, his aching arms unable to take any more punishment. Just as the bitterness of failure was about to consume him, a voice called out nearby, Look! Over there!

Without warning, the wind picked up, tearing at Liam’s clothes as if trying to claim him for itself. Seconds later, gentle hands turned him onto his back, and he looked into the concerned blue eyes of a blond monk.

He’s hurt! Call the healer!

A second voice shouted something back that Liam couldn’t hear above the howling wind. He reached up, grabbed the monk’s collar and rasped, Sanctuary. I claim sanctuary.

Then he fell back and passed out.

<><><>

The blond monk, Arthean, looked down at the stranger, perplexed. From whom did he claim sanctuary? He was the second stranger in the last week to claim sanctuary here, and the first had fallen into a coma before they could question him. Before that, the last time anyone had claimed sanctuary at Tridor Monastery had been at least thirteen years ago, at which time it had done the unfortunate soul no good, as the Lord of the Land at that time had been a Godless man named Kyain who had no respect for the law and had invaded the premises to claim his prize. Since sanctuary had meant nothing under Kyain’s rule, nobody had attempted to claim it after that, and, after the war that had seen the fall of Kyain and the rise of Sah, nobody had needed sanctuary. Sah ruled fairly, and none had ever opposed his rule.

So from what, then, did this stranger claim sanctuary? Arthean shivered violently and glanced back down the pathway to his left, then towards the harbour below. Both were empty. He stared down at the man again; his expensive-looking coat was torn so badly that it was now worth no more than rags, his right trouser leg was blood stained, wet sand crusted his eyes, his face was covered in red, rapidly swelling lumps – presumably gifts from the hailstones earlier – and his feet were caked in so much blood and sand that it was difficult to see the full extent of his injuries. Whatever he claimed sanctuary from, it was understandable.

Certhon – Tridor’s healer – arrived with two monks and placed the stranger on a stretcher to carry him inside. Arthean followed, sensing an omen in the second stranger’s arrival, as he had with the first. An omen more powerful than any he’d been sent in all of his thirty-five years. Whether it was good or bad was yet to be seen.

<><><>

The pounding in Liam’s head woke him. The room was dark; angry clouds presumably still hid the moon and stars. A light sea breeze wafted in from the window to the left of his bed, easing his headache somewhat as he savoured slow, deep breaths of it. When he tried to turn his head, his neck went into spasm and an involuntary cry of pain escaped him. Hurried footsteps approached, and a thin, blond, blue-eyed monk appeared in the doorway and rushed to his bedside. It was the same monk who had found him – earlier that same night, Liam presumed.

Are you okay, friend?

Liam tried to answer, but an itch pricked his throat and a fit of coughs racked him, sending his neck muscles into further spasm and making his eyes water. The monk reached for a jug of water on the small block of wood that served as a bedside table, poured some into a wooden mug and held it to Liam’s lips. Liam took two sips and choked, then endured another coughing fit before falling back onto the soft pillow in exhaustion. His ribs ached as much as his leg and pain lanced his chest every time he breathed, and he wondered if he’d broken a few ribs.

The monk hovered over him now. It irritated Liam. A lot. Liam frowned, resisting the urge to order the man to leave. It wasn’t his fault that everything irritated Liam lately. Instead, he swallowed, cleared his throat, and asked, So… how are my feet?

The monk hesitated and glanced at Liam’s feet, which Liam now noticed were bandaged.

Certhon, our healer, says we’ll only know in a few days if they’ll heal right. He says no bones were broken, so it bodes well, but there were strange, sharp crystals embedded in the flesh that caused a lot of damage, so we’ll just have to wait and see. The monk paused, possibly because he caught a glint in Liam’s eyes that said he knew what those ‘sharp crystals’ were. My name’s Arthean, by the way. May I take this opportunity to welcome you to Tridor Monastery, where-

Where I have sanctuary, right? gasped Liam.

Arthean appeared taken aback. Well, yes. You claimed it, and no one is denied it.

Ever? No matter what they’ve done or who they’ve wronged? Liam rasped.

The monk stared at him with puzzled, curious eyes. No one is denied sanctuary. Ever. God does not turn away anyone who comes to Him for salvation, friend. Not ever. It’s not in His nature to turn His back on His people.

A frown briefly crossed Liam’s face, then he relaxed, smiled weakly and passed out again.

<><><>

Two days later, in the late afternoon, Arthean stood partially behind a pillar just inside the monastery’s main recreation room, watching the stranger who sat on the room’s second-floor balcony, staring out over the natural harbour, the waters of which were now calm and clear again after two days’ raging during the worst lightning storm the land had ever witnessed. The stranger, who he’d learnt was called Liam – an odd name and one Arthean had never heard before – had, thus far, refused to reveal who he ran from or anything about himself. He was convinced that, if they knew who was after him, they’d deny him sanctuary. Nothing could persuade him otherwise. Each time anyone asked, he got moody and contemplative, and a faraway look crept into his eyes, filling them with too many emotions for Arthean to read.

There was something about the newcomer that Arthean couldn’t put his finger on. It bothered him and, because of that, he knew it was important. Nothing much ever bothered him anymore, so, when it did, he took note – the bothered feeling was a message from God, and those should never be ignored or taken lightly.

Uncannily, Liam turned and met his gaze, almost as if he had sensed Arthean watching. Arthean shivered, then moved towards where Liam sat and joined him on the rock floor. How do you feel today, friend?

Liam shrugged, then winced.

Your neck is still paining you, I see. Don’t worry; it’s only bruising. The muscles will recover, maybe stronger than before. It’ll just take some time; that’s all.

Yeah, I know. Liam scowled. I’m just not sure I have time. Don’t you have any medicine that will speed my recovery, or at least dull the pain? This tea Certhon brings me hardly does anything at all. Why doesn’t he use his magic?

One should only call on God for a miracle when one is direly needed. You will be perfectly okay without one. As for the tea, that is because your pain is too intense. The tea is only meant for headaches, stomach aches and the likes. Not for major injuries.

Liam’s scowl deepened. Well, why doesn’t he bring me something stronger, then?

Arthean was taken aback by Liam’s attitude. Surely he knew there were hardly any Hislia plants left in the land, so strong pain remedies were hard to come by. When he hesitatingly told Liam this, he laughed. Arthean was certain this was the laugh of a crazy person.

Liam’s laughter stopped abruptly and he turned to Arthean. They’ll be here soon, you know. Today. Around sunset, probably.

Those whom you claimed sanctuary to get away from? Arthean asked.

Yes. Liam seemed to retreat into another world for a while, then turned to Arthean and asked, How long can I legally claim sanctuary here?

Arthean blinked. You must be from a land far, far away.

Liam guffawed.

Arthean was confused. What on earth was funny about what he’d just said?

Liam must have seen his confusion, because he said, A land far, far away. Get it?

Arthean frowned. No, I don’t.

This made Liam laugh even harder. "Argh! Of course you don’t get it. Yes, I’m from a land far, far away. He snorted. Never Never Land." He grinned at Arthean.

How far away is it?

Liam broke into another fit of mad laughter. Far, far away. He squealed, half choking and half giggling as he held his sides.

Arthean frowned again. You have a strange sense of humour where you come from, friend. To answer your question, you have sanctuary for as long as you need it.

Liam stopped laughing. Really? What if that means forever?

Then Tridor is your home.

Really?

Arthean was incredulous. Why did Liam keep asking ‘really’? Did he think a monk would lie to him? Monks don’t lie, he stated solemnly.

Liam raised an eyebrow. That’s good to know. He worried at the bandages covering his feet, apparently trying to find a piece thin enough for him to scratch the itching flesh through. So, what’s the fee I pay for sanctuary?

Arthean chuckled. Friend, I don’t know what type of land you come from, but in this land, sanctuary is free. No man has the right to charge another for God-given sanctuary. We are not the ones who provide the sanctuary. We are merely the ones placed in charge of it.

Liam smiled. This just keeps getting better…. Tell me, do you think God sees right and wrong in terms of black and white, or are there shades of grey?

The question caught Arthean off guard, and he considered it, then replied carefully, I think each situation should be considered as it arises, and the choices that serve God and others, the choices that hurt no one, or the least number of people, should be made. I think that’s all we can do, really, without a handbook detailing every possible situation one might be faced with.

Liam nodded slightly, as if satisfied with the answer. What about if you murdered someone just because you could?

Arthean flinched. Is that what you’ve done?

Tried to.

Arthean studied the floor. Just because you could?

Yes.

Without a hint of mirth, Arthean countered, Well, clearly you couldn’t, since you didn’t succeed.

Liam smiled. "Well, I thought I could."

No other reason? Just opportunity?

Of course there was another reason, Liam scoffed. I’m not a psychopath, you know! He intends to do something really bad, and, if I had killed him, he wouldn’t be alive to do it anymore. He turned to Arthean. Will God forgive me for the deaths this man will cause? Will He forgive me for the suffering this man will cause? Will He forgive me for my failure? Or is He the one who made me fail because murder is wrong no matter what the reasons?

Arthean responded, That’s not your sin to be forgiven. What matters is that you tried to do what you thought was right. That you did your best. More than your best is not expected. And if murder is wrong no matter what, you have nothing to worry about, either, because you haven’t committed murder.

"What if it’s the fact that I tried that I need forgiveness for?"

Arthean blinked. After a few moments of silence, he said, I don’t know. If your actions were for no other reason than to save lives, perhaps there is nothing to be forgiven in that regard, either. Only God can tell you that, friend.

Liam made a rude noise. What if I had other sins, sins that are mine alone, sins that I’d hoped the murder of this killer would absolve?

God doesn’t expect you to do more than your best. To expect the impossible is ridiculous.

Liam raised an eyebrow. This whole universe is ridiculous. What I’ve seen of it so far, anyway.

Voices came from below, and Liam went rigid. Arthean recognised the voices of his fellow monks, and smiled. Vareck and Shyla. You met them at supper last night.

Liam gave a half nod, then asked, If the army of your land… decides to help this man… would the soldiers raid the monastery to get to me?

Arthean, still trying to determine what it was about the newcomer he wasn’t seeing, feeling it almost within his grasp, stammered, They wou-wouldn’t d-do that. Why would they interfere with God’s laws? Everyone knows God’s law comes above men’s laws.

Liam remained silent, as if considering the reply and not entirely convinced. He went rigid again as hoof beats were heard nearby, quickly drawing closer. A few minutes later, eleven riders came into view, ten clad in Sah’s green and dark grey uniforms, and the lead rider in dark red and black – Sah.

Arthean frowned, truly alarmed for the first time. Tell me, please… who exactly did you attempt to kill?

The one in front.

Arthean gasped. But Sah is a good, fair and God-fearing ruler. Even now, when the land suffers at the hands of the weather, anyone can go to Sah for help; he never turns anyone away. What could he possibly be planning that God would want stopped?

Liam appeared to shrink. He whispered, barely audibly, He bargains with… He seemed to struggle to find the right word, then, his voice stronger, said, He bargains with the Devil.

Arthean’s heart clenched at the words. It couldn’t be… Surely you are wro-

I’m not. I saw it with my own eyes.

Arthean gaped. Surely he can’t know…

Oh, he knows, all right.

How do you know that?

He cannot not know.

<><><>

"We seek the dark-eyed stranger. Bring him to us. Now."

Vareck’s voice came from below. We cannot do that. He has claimed sanctuary.

He defends me without even asking what my crime was, Liam thought. Now that wouldn’t happen on Earth! Liam shrank back against the balcony wall, afraid to be seen. He noticed the strange look Arthean gave him, as if he didn’t understand what he was afraid of.

Sah’s cold voice replied, He is a traitor who tried to murder your ruler. Will you allow an enemy of the land to hide inside your walls?

Vareck’s voice faltered. We refuse no one sanctuary. It is the law.

Sah snapped, Don’t speak to me of the law, monk! I am on God’s side, which makes this man an enemy of God, too. Now bring him to me, or would you have God punish you for harbouring His enemies?

Jergor, Tridor’s abbot, arrived on the scene and took over from the struggling Vareck. My Lord, with all due respect, God is a forgiving God. If this man managed to find his way here, it’s probably God giving him the opportunity to seek forgiveness. Surely, considering his injuries, he would otherwise not have made it this far?

Sah began, Are you lis-?

Abbot Jergor interrupted, There was even an obstacle of strange crystal fragments that cut like knives, which covered almost the whole beach, yet he somehow made it past. Impossible, unless God helped him. Wouldn’t you say?

Liam imagined the abbot cocking an eyebrow at Sah, and thought the conversation must be angering the ruler in a big way. His lips twitched in a vague smile.

What are you talking about, Abbot? There were no obstacles in our way now!

Liam glanced at Arthean, an obvious silent question about the glass shards, but Arthean just shrugged; the last time he’d looked, the shards had blanketed the beach.

They were there when we looked two days ago. Perhaps the Devil’s magic faded once they were no longer needed to hinder.

Sah tried to sway the head monk a bit more, but soon gave up and left in a scowling huff. Liam’s bad feeling intensified as he watched the riders dwindle into the distance. This was not over yet.

CHAPTER 2

That evening, Liam sat on a cushion on his room’s balcony, meditating. It helped to keep his mind off