Allegiance: Legend of Taragondia Book 2

By L. G. Craft

Providence and destiny work in the lives of those that seek the hope Taragondia was formed upon. Seven parts of one whole, the marue, presided over all until one turned his face against his master. The six remain as they work under the will of he who has no name. All marue hearken to him except Ru’kai who seeks to take Taragondia as his own and its people as his puppets.
A race nearly obliterated by Ru’kai as he set brother against brother as the Nilor Learecee turned from peace to war; the scattered few live among the people of New Taragondia. Their numbers dwindle as hope is lost. Those that cling to life do so for the promise that the people will one day be restored; to serve, guide, and keep the old ways alive while the fulfillment of prophecy draws closer.
Calla is a strong willed young woman with dreams that are daring to wake in this turbulent world. She also happens to be the Erbonian King’s only child. Her days are filled with countless hours of battle training though her heart’s desire is peace for the land and its people. Her nights usher her into the unseen world of the dream-walkers. It is bad enough that she looks like a freak to the people she serves and revered as a living legend with golden-purple eyes and translucent hair; but sadly, her only true friend walked with her in the dream world. Unfortunately, he turns out to be the King of the rival clan.
Kalest is the last in the blood-line of promise and a mistrusting and angry young man. Forced to rule since his mother’s murder; he brings hope to all of Opallace excluding himself. He finds comfort in the only person he has ever trusted until now, his dream walk companion who reveals herself to be the Princess Calla. She is the next rulers of Erbonia, the north-east enemy territory.
Peace hangs by threads as the treaty between the two lands is broken over and over through deception and treachery.
Allegiance is an independent story from the Taragondian series that stands beside the great epics that testifies to the fact that man’s struggle with pride, trust, and truth are still real and winnable.

• Language: English
• Publisher: L. G. Craft
• Release date: May 28, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301610617

L. G. Craft

Christian, wife, mother, sister, friend, cook, artist, Torah student, fellow worker: jack of all trades - master of none and lover of creative words.

Book preview

Allegiance:

Legend

of

Taragondia

L. G. Craft

Copyright © 2013 by L. G. Craft

All rights reserved.

Published at Smashwords

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.

ISBN: 9781301610617

Also by L. G. Craft, at smashwords:

Escape: legend of taragondia

destiny: legend of taragondia

DEDICATION

The grandbabies: May you find your path to be straight as you walk, smooth as you crawl, and filled with family and friends when too hard to travel without help. As you adventure on your way, always hold the hand that was scared for your eternal salvation as you venture the path you find your feet upon.

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Acknowledgements

Prologue

1 A Walk in the Dark

2 The Real Enemy

3 Fighting for…

4 United

5 Anxious For Nothing

6 New Plans and Old Friends

7 Shadows of Things to Come

8 A New Day

9 Family Secrets

10 Looking for the Answer

11 New Paths

12 Sizing Things Up

13 Here We Go Again

14 Following the Trail

Epilogue

All Things Taragondian

Discussion Questions

About the Author

ISBN: 9781301610617

Title: Allegiance: Legend of Taragondia

Author: L. G. Craft

Publisher: Smashwords, Inc.

Copyright 2013 L. G. Craft

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.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

I could not have come this far without you. I give you all the credit for I can do nothing apart from you. May this small work bring you joy.

PROLOGUE

"Arrogant pride and self preservation are as alike as identical twin sisters. They even claim the same parentage. The true test of their identity is their purposes and goals. One seeks to promote self through deception and deceit and always at the expense of all others, never counting the cost, never regretting. The other seeks to preserve self through wisdom, skill of body and mind, always willing to pay the highest price.

Which sister will be your companion, my son? Look past her beauty and into her heart for that is where you will find her truth. Tuvon’s kind but stern voice rattled through Kalest and would not be silenced as he walked the stone halls of his Keep known to all of Taragondia as Opallace Proper. To Kalest, it was home. It was filled with bitter sweet memories of family, love and loss. Today added to the bitterness of loss.

The trouble with Erbonia looming in the future made him miss his father, King Tuvon, and his mother, Queen Kurtushan, even more. He would give anything for their council. On the other hand, he was not so sure they would love to see him or specifically, the man he had become. At this moment, he wasn’t sure he could stand being with himself.

He felt as though He Who Has No Name had abandoned him long ago and now intelligence was escaping as well. He was a Du’etten after all. The race of men under the great marue Du’at was the caretaker of knowledge. Du’ettens were legendary as persons of hope and promise whose very named means intelligent. Then why was his intellect fleeing from him like a thief in the night?

Coward, Kalest berated that part of himself that should have prevailed. Unreliable coward, he mumbled against his own frustration.

He reflected on his actions towards the Erbonian Princess and the reason for the ominous problems coloring his future darker than ever before. He reacted without purpose and reason which was a dangerous thing. His head and heart were now at odds. Calla was the recipient of one of his greatest moments of weakness and it filled him with shame. Many would pay the price when war ravished this land he loved so dearly for that weakness.

Calla, princess and priestess of Erbonia and heir to her father’s throne, was a guiding light to her people. She was also the one person he knew with every fiber of his existence, to be his closest friend even though he could not admit to that truth at this moment. She had come to Opallace with an offering of peace for their nations whose treaty had been abused to the point of non-existence.

In return he interrogated her, treated her as an unwanted guest, ignored her, and at best insulted her. Then, as a final blow, he threw her out as though she were a thieving beggar. His inner battle began to roll into a full war. Ironically, he now longed for her wisdom and wondered if she would be in the dream-walk world they shared.

Part of him knew he would never see her again. It was easier before he knew who his best friend was in the waking world. Why did she have to pull their friendship from the shadow world of dream and fantasy and throw it into the ugly light of this world that has no mercy?

He could not tell if it was pride or self preservation that had dictated his actions. My dear marue Du’at, what advice would you have for your wayward son? Kalest asked into the cool of the night but his personal doubt over shadowed his thoughts. And what would the great marue, one of the seven keepers of the world, have to do with me?

He had lost track of time as the sky was beginning to pale with the morning’s embrace. He began to wonder if any of the good people of Opallace were aware of all these untidy events that had taken place under their noses. The immense crowd that had gathered to enjoy the King’s feast in honor of Princess Calla had to have had a few unplanned spectators for the unpleasant and unexpected event in which he evicted his royal guest without ceremony.

The King continued to brood over which twin sister it was that held his heart captive. His consciousness constricted a little tighter as he set his jaw and entered the main banquet hall. The man who had bid the King a good night the evening before was in the center of a small circle of people who were being entertained by his animated story. Kalest checked his countenance and sauntered over to stand against the wall, listening to the man’s tale.

The number of guests had diminished significantly in his absence. Others around the hall were in small groups engaged in various activities and discussions including a lively game of knives. A few were sleeping at tables and in chairs against the wall by the hearth. The fire continued to sizzle with the aroma of seasoned meat lingering in the air. Candles danced excitedly in the darkness. In all, the hall was relaxed and peaceful.

‘And why should that be my concern?’ asked the bear. I looked at him and said, ‘Because no one can bear it when momma gets upset.’

A few shook their heads at the ridiculousness of the story while some laughed. Kalest stepped up and placed his hand on the man’s shoulder as the crowd began to disperse. With such bad stories, friend, I should have you thrown in the stocks.

Now that is something momma really couldn’t bear. Even Ru’kai steers clear of her. He’s scared she might try to take over. He laughed at his own wit.

The two men walked over to the table and engaged in light conversation and a new round of refreshments. The man had much to say and Kalest needed something to engage his thought. It was a good match for now.

***

Calla was not able to sulk, she was fare past that now. She was far past the safety of Opallace proper as well, walking a small foot path that lead her west in a winding shadowed area of rock face. This section of cliffs felt older than the great trees of Ir’bon that surrounded Father’s Keep.

In a detached rational clarity, she began to analyze her situation as she made her way through the winding path that led down the mountain. Maybe part of her had faced the reality and made a quick retreat into wisdom. Maybe part of her found the childishness of her silly tirade to be fruitless and it was time to grow up and face reality. Either way, she knew a few things that were painfully obvious. A princess should be happy to be surrounded by the security of her family and Keep with a sure path laid out in front of her. Her father had arranged for her to marry Shardan. He was King Yadil’s Captain and trusted man. He was also twice her age and the list of incompatibilities were longer than the tallest Nilor tree. Still, she should have been happy to serve her people and make a good life for them.

She wondered if Shardan had come looking for her yet. It is in his nature to be out of sorts when his ‘property’ runs off without his permission. As well, her father would be beside himself for her refusal to obey the traditions of their people. How could she explain that she has wanted more? She wanted a chance to create the perfect solution in which everyone would be happy – except Shardan but that was a small price to pay. He would never be happy since his unkind heart was the source of his trouble.

To add to that, Calla was the priestess of her people and keeper of the dream-walk. In all, she was a legend of the Du’etten bloodline of unusual birth. She was one of many who strove for the hope promised when the fall of Taragondia destroyed creation’s purpose. These facts justified her actions so many weeks ago. Now they seem confused and weak. To add to that, the desires of the heart have voices that scream so loud they are impossible to ignore. This is especially true when your Du’etten blood sings within your very bones unceasingly about these desires. Your ironclad will demands to be followed to whatever end you might find.

Calla had left home with youthful hope and visions of grandeur as her closest companions. Hours flew into the days and then the days turned into weeks which opened up their embrace to months. The exuberant hope she had once felt was now a crushing depth of foolishness. There seemed little hope left no matter what path she chose. The bleakness of her life with Shardan was more real than any other path before her.

She could return home and face her father’s wrath for ignoring his edicts and protocols that were older than her family’s rule. She could make her own life amongst the wild paths of Y’lim and Shadow Valley between the old land passes in the land of Pennor and let Princess Calla be lost in the wind. Part of her wondered if Father or Shardan would ever stop looking for her. She also entertained the idea of Shardan becoming King without her by his side. It wasn’t hard to picture Lord Elteel’s short and wretched life coming to an end at the hand of his trusted Captain during an unexpected battle. Shardan would get power with or without her.

She thought about the one path no longer open to her. The one she desired to walk but because of her own arrogant and fumbling attempts at diplomacy it was lost.

Calla had never been away from home for so long. She missed her father although he was a stern warrior with little time for the soft touch of fatherhood. Two months had come and gone and she had nothing more than failed ambitions to show for it. Maybe he would welcome her back with open arms. Maybe she could return home and all would be forgiven and forgotten as life in the dark Keep returned to normal.

She wanted to sit and talk with Mistress Kathy and absorb words of wisdom for her brokenness. She longed for Master Marty’s healing music to calm her inner turmoil. She thought about the two who served so faithfully in her father’s Erbonian Keep and did so with little reward. It is the simple things that bring the greatest pleasure, Kathy would encourage her with tales of mystical beings who served the invisible on with no name. The creatures had names but she could not recall them. I am afraid children’s stories will not help me now. She spoke to the image of Mistress Kathy conjured by her mind as she walked. It amazed Calla that these two people held so firmly to that which they could not see, could not touch, and had no proof of.

I have need of encouragement, my good people. Calla spoke as she reflected on their belief in He Who Has No Name and the seven creatures that serve him. One who had rebelled against the Nameless One and was no longer welcomed which hit a nerve Calla didn’t want to dwell on. Their belief stood strong and often dictated their actions. It was this quality that made them such an important part of Calla’s life. She longed for the faith they lived out each and every day but Calla needed things she could hold. She needed to be able to have something to face and fix. So much for fixing this, Calla reflected on her feelings as she walked the dirt path through the garden of Opallace Proper towards the gate.

Then she thought about the place that served as her abode for such a short time but had become a big part of her. The open and willing acceptance from the Opallian people touched her heart. Vans, the sweet handmaid, made her feel trusted and cared for. Grund, in his own rough way, gave her respect that did not exist amongst her own people. Kalest she missed most of all even if he was King of Opallace and her father’s enemy. He was her only true friend, at least for her part.

Kalest was a man of many noble characters and admirable qualities including being true to his word. The sting of his last statement to her was still as fresh and strong as the moment when he threw her out of his Keep and demanded that she never return. She wondered that if she broke her neck on this traitorous terrain if Kalest would celebrate or mourn.

As King, he had the right to remove her from all Opallace. As her dream companion, he overstepped a line that even the love of friendship would have a very hard time mending.

As one of the three great Taragondian powers, his actions could easily be the spark of war. She was grateful that there were no witnesses to carry tidings to her father. Her regret would always exist but that was her secret now.

***

When given the conflict between what you want and what you do, the most unlikely path always seems to be that which causes the greatest change. Yet it is that very thing which we choose. Kalest quoted his great grandfather as the two men continued to exchange thoughts on various subjects.

Ah, the great Utrah, Grandfather of peace and all that is Opallace. Surely you can’t expect me to compete with that, My Lord? Even if I had a full nights rest, I am no match for the Du’etten and his kin folk. The man offered with a yawn.

Kalest smiled and bid the storyteller a good day as the man found need for rest and parted the Keep and the King’s good company.

This left Kalest without distraction so he stood in the darkness of the corner of the room. The volatile feelings now morphed into hostile images as he silently reflected on his final encounter with the all too lovely dark princess of Erbonia. The reality of his one true friend being gone from his life was something he couldn’t grasp.

The deepest part of his intelligence knew he had made a grave error but he could not get his heart to agree. The inner war had changed. A new battle washed over him and he had not prepared for this. His companion of mistrust screamed louder than his intelligence.

1 A WALK IN THE DARK

As the morning sun found a foothold in the far Eastern sky, Kalest was consumed by restlessness. He began indulging his senses to forget his encounter with the creature that haunted every fiber of his existence. Calla was more than a mystery, she was the enemy from within that now threatened to tear Kalest’s world apart. His very existence at this moment hinged on Calla which made him feel like he was walking in the dark. She had managed to infiltrate every area of his life and win his trust over the past several years. He hated her for this and now hated himself because of the intensity to which they were entangled. This kind of entanglement was weakness, complete and full. He betrayed his people and his post with this indulgence and now he would pay a terrible price as his heart sat shredded and bleeding in the midst of his soul. He honestly didn’t care which twin sister he served, they both fail him no matter their intentions at this point. "Arrogant pride and self preservation are as alike as identical twin sisters. They even claim the same parentage. The true test of their identity is their purposes and goals. One seeks to promote self through deception and deceit and always at the expense of all others, never counting the cost, never regretting. The other seeks to preserve self through wisdom, skill of body and mind, always willing to pay the highest price.

Which sister will be your companion, my son? Look past her beauty and into her heart for that is where you will find her truth. Tuvon’s kind but stern voice rattled through Kalest and would not be silenced as he walked the stone halls of his Keep known to all of Taragondia as Opallace Proper. To Kalest, it was home. It was filled with bitter sweet memories of family, love and loss. Today added to the bitterness of loss.

The trouble with Erbonia looming in the future made him miss his father, King Tuvon, and his mother, Queen Kurtushan, even more. He would give anything for their council. On the other hand, he was not so sure they would love to see him or specifically, the man he had become. At this moment, he wasn’t sure he could stand being with himself.

He felt as though He Who Has No Name had abandoned him long ago and now intelligence was escaping as well. He was a Du’etten after all. The race of men under the great marue Du’at was the caretaker of knowledge. Du’ettens were legendary as persons of hope and promise whose very named means intelligent. Then why was his intellect fleeing from him like a thief in the night?

Coward, Kalest berated that part of himself that should have prevailed. Unreliable coward, he mumbled against his own frustration.

He reflected on his actions towards the Erbonian Princess and the reason for the ominous problems coloring his future darker than ever before. He reacted without purpose and reason which was a dangerous thing. His head and heart were now at odds. Calla was the recipient of one of his greatest moments of weakness and it filled him with shame. Many would pay the price when war ravished this land he loved so dearly for that weakness.

Calla, princess and priestess of Erbonia and heir to her father’s throne, was a guiding light to her people. She was also the one person he knew with every fiber of his existence, to be his closest friend even though he could not admit to that truth at this moment. She had come to Opallace with an offering of peace for their nations whose treaty had been abused to the point of non-existence.

In return he interrogated her, treated her as an unwanted guest, ignored her, and at best insulted her. Then, as a final blow, he threw her out as though she were a thieving beggar. His inner battle began to roll into a full war. Ironically, he now longed for her wisdom and wondered if she would be in the dream-walk world they shared.

Part of him knew he would never see her again. It was easier before he knew who his best friend was in the waking world. Why did she have to pull their friendship from the shadow world of dream and fantasy and throw it into the ugly light of this world that has no mercy?

He could not tell if it was pride or self preservation that had dictated his actions. My dear marue Du’at, what advice would you have for your wayward son? Kalest asked into the cool of the night but his personal doubt over shadowed his thoughts. And what would the great marue, one of the seven keepers of the world, have to do with me?

He had lost track of time as the sky was beginning to pale with the morning’s embrace. He began to wonder if any of the good people of Opallace were aware of all these untidy events that had taken place under their noses. The immense crowd that had gathered to enjoy the King’s feast in honor of Princess Calla had to have had a few unplanned spectators for the unpleasant and unexpected event in which he evicted his royal guest without ceremony.

The King continued to brood over which twin sister it was that held his heart captive. His consciousness constricted a little tighter as he set his jaw and entered the main banquet hall. The man who had bid the King a good night the evening before was in the center of a small circle of people who were being entertained by his animated story. Kalest checked his countenance and sauntered over to stand against the wall, listening to the man’s tale.

The number of guests had diminished significantly in his absence. Others around the hall were in small groups engaged in various activities and discussions including a lively game of knives. A few were sleeping at tables and in chairs against the wall by the hearth. The fire continued to sizzle with the aroma of seasoned meat lingering in the air. Candles danced excitedly in the darkness. In all, the hall was relaxed and peaceful.

‘And why should that be my concern?’ asked the bear. I looked at him and said, ‘Because no one can bear it when momma gets upset.’

A few shook their heads at the ridiculousness of the story while some laughed. Kalest stepped up and placed his hand on the man’s shoulder as the crowd began to disperse. With such bad stories, friend, I should have you thrown in the stocks.

Now that is something momma really couldn’t bear. Even Ru’kai steers clear of her. He’s scared she might try to take over. He laughed at his own wit.

The two men walked over to the table and engaged in light conversation and a new round of refreshments. The man had much to say and Kalest needed something to engage his thought. It was a good match for now.

***

Calla wasn’t able to sulk, she was fare past that now. She was far past the safety of Opallace proper as well, walking a small foot path that lead her west in a winding shadowed area of rock face. This section of cliffs felt older than the great trees of Ir’bon that surrounded Father’s Keep.

In a detached rational clarity, she began to analyze her situation as she made her way through the winding path that led down the mountain. Maybe part of her had faced the reality and made a quick retreat into wisdom. Maybe part of her found the childishness of her silly tirade to be fruitless and it was time to grow up and face reality. Either way, she knew a few things that were painfully obvious. A princess should be happy to be surrounded by the security of her family and Keep with a sure path laid out in front of her. Her father had arranged for her to marry Shardan. He was King Yadil’s Captain and trusted man. He was also twice her age and the list of incompatibilities were longer than the tallest Nilor tree. Still, she should have been happy to serve her people and make a good life for them.

She wondered if Shardan had come looking for her yet. It is in his nature to be out of sorts when his ‘property’ runs off without his permission. As well, her father would be beside himself for her refusal to obey the traditions of their people. How could she explain that she has wanted more? She wanted a chance to create the perfect solution in which everyone would be happy – except Shardan but that was a small price to pay. He would never be happy since his unkind heart was the source of his trouble.

***

Calla found the night air refreshing and holding the promise of newness. She needed this. Her senses were alive with the fever of release. Now was the time to mark a new beginning as the new day began with a breaking of the soft haze just before the sunrise. She had gambled her desires, her hopes, and her dreams and lost. Calla would mark this lesson well and learn the bitter reality of the heart.

It is a fickle thing, my child, Calla told herself. Long will be the days before you should forget this lesson. Never play with such a fragile thing. It can break and the shards will cut deeper than the flesh has the ability to hold. You are then left in splintered pieces. Who is the victor, my dear Calla? All that is left when two such great forces meet in battle is death and despair. There is no hope on the lips of a dying man. He can give neither promise nor love. He can give not of himself for there is nothing of his life’s blood in him to give. Death begot death in this game, girl. Be this a lesson you learn well and not to forgotten too soon lest all be in vain.

Calla walked with a heaviness that did not typify her petite frame. Her feet had been steady upon the dirt pathway since she exited the palace through the garden entry at Far End and began heading east. She had avoided the main entrance which would have brought her past the great hall. Her clouded mind and exhausted body did not have the energy to confront anyone for any reason. The need to retreat was her only desire.

Her thoughts focused on the white marble that wrapped the surroundings like strong hands that held the gate fast at the base of the mountain. It would always be a place of peace for her and not the seat of evil her people thought it to be. The stone was illuminated as it reflected the last of the moonlight giving the place a benevolent glow. This caused her inward sorrow to find voice as she walked away from Opallace.

She marveled again at the shear magnificence of the palace that had been carved from living stone. Her sharp mind brought up the image of Opallace at sunset. She desired to remember it in the brilliance and splendor of hope instead of the shades of despair that now tainted the image. The earthly sun seemed as cold as it was spectacular.

The trees had waved a solemn farewell as she passed the area where she had sat at the feet of the Keeper. The guard at the top of the battlement wall had given her a friendly nod as she passed under the arch. The cool breeze had pushed her on and encouraged swift travels as the old worn pathway welcomed her. She passed through the open gate bathed in moon light and refused to look back as she left the great Keep of Opallace.

Now, she did dare to stop and look back. She stood on the pathway just under the last low cliff where the boulders swept the ground into gravelly dust. Little grew here at the edge between rock and field. She could see the mountain shine in its brilliance, bringing up the warm feelings that had held her more captive than any cage ever could.

***

Kalest re-entered the feast hall after bidding another groups of guests to the gate as they departed with glad hearts and full bellies. His frustration drove him to seek indulgence. He needed the activities to drown his ability to think but the festivities were gone and the hall was returning to its normal quiet.

Grund stood by the doorway and watch Kalest. He felt a personal obligation over the king he loved as a son. Being the Captain of the military force for all of Opallace made his obligation all the more potent. He pondered the source of this boy’s frustration that was evident to those who knew him well enough to see it. The strange conversation from the night before came to mind. It was witchcraft that Kalest should know so much about the Princes whom he had known for only a week. That coupled with the altercation in the Blue chamber that Calla had occupied led Grund to a sad conclusion. He was not privileged to the reason for the argument but he witnessed the aftermath which told all he needed to know.

He, along with a handful of men, knew that Calla departed Opallace Proper shortly after their encounter even though she was the guest of honor. Though Grund had little use for Erbonian people, he had grown to respect Calla for she was – in his eyes – the embodiment of the queens of old. Maybe the childhood memory of Kalest’s great grandmother fueled these feelings in him. All he knew now was that something was amiss and it had to do with the departure of Princess Calla.

As the hours continued to stretch on, Kalest found that his burning was unquenchable. The greatness of his indulgence brought greater and deeper longing to his Du’etten blood that screamed for satiation. That which he usually kept under such tight reigns had escaped their bonds and now ran like ice fire through his veins. His mind was at the mercy of its own imagination. He burned with a fire that consumed him from within.

***

The black walls that lined Erbonia Proper were not dark enough to match the despondent disposition the King of Erbonia was still in. Yadil was a man of many talents but hiding his dark mood was not one of them. Shardan was both his friend and Captain. As such, he was a man of action and might. He felt utterly helpless in the face of his King’s destructive pain.

It had been over two full months since the Princess had left her father’s kingdom. She left without reason being given. Her only clue was one babbling guard she had mind washed with her dream walk ability. He spent three days repeating, She goes to seek peace. Peace from whom or what or for what reason was the part that was torturously unknown. The people of Erbonia believed she sought her priestess right of solitude. The Keep held to that idea with fierce determination for the sake of allegiance and harmony from the ruling families. Unfortunately, both qualities ran thin in this place lately.

Shardan knew that Yadil felt abandoned since the Princess had ignored the protocol and snubbed the edict concerning her safety and travel. Yadil, as did all Erbonians, had a deep need to control that which surrounded him. With Calla, he seldom felt in control. When I am King and you are my Queen, you will learn to behave or I will break that beautiful slender neck of yours. Shardan ground out through his teeth as he turned from the bolted doors of the King’s chamber as a pot shattered against the wall on the other side. He shook off his temper before he threw something himself and turned to walk down the hallway.

He needed to talk to Joehe again; maybe he remembered something more. He was one of the young men Shardan had hand trained and therefore had some confidence in. And for an Erbonian, that wasn’t much. The boy was normally a level headed young man but too soft for Shardan’s taste. Still he was swift with the blade and fast on his feet, and normally a fast wit as well. Shardan thought, as another vase found its meager life end when the frustrated oaths from the King’s chamber followed him down the hallway.

Joehe was talking intently to a young girl that seemed very pleased at the flow of words falling from the boy’s smooth tongue. When he noticed Shardan coming towards him, he stood and stepped away from the slender kitchen wench. She in turn fled for the open doorway and disappeared.

Shardan sat down on the long bench with a thud and bellowed after the fleeing woman, Bring mead, girl, and be quick. Then he turned his eyes on Joehe who tried to look invisible and simply said, sit.

***

The morning sun had made a full appearance by the time Calla reached the palace trade village of Lemvy. It was a pleasant little place that welcomed travelers. She was captive within her own self, heavy in thought, and did not hear the footsteps announcing the creature that came up to her from the side. Soft fur brushed against Calla’s leg. The unexpected feeling made her jump. At her side was a large but scrawny animal that looked like it needed a good meal and a hot bath. Its short legs were barely long enough to keep its long body off the ground. What should be fluffy and smooth hair was matted with various types of vegetation. Calla was instantly drawn to the adorable face that held eyes too large for its deep features. The animal’s rough purr filtered through the air, reminding Calla of wet rocks tumbling over one another.

Calla stroked the cat that looked much like a dog and was affronted by the smell that jumped up to meet her. Wow! You really need a bath. Have you no master, my furry friend? She turned her head to the side as her eyes watered from the assault on her senses. At this moment, having greater sense than most was not an advantage. Its head came to her mid-belly which did not allow much escape room for breathing.

Calla gave little thought to befriending the strange creature for she did not feel strong enough to take on the needs of another. She patted the creature still sitting at her feet then turned back in the direction she had been traveling and continued on her way. As she walked, she could hear the patter of large fur lined paws where the creature followed close behind. She stopped and turned so she might ward off her newfound companion who obviously adopted Calla whether Calla wished to be adopted or not.

Please, little one, A new stab of pain made her heart melt as Kalest’s name for her rolled off her lips. Okay, come with me. We will get you cleaned up when we stop. Maybe you are the one who will bring me the blessing I seek. The one I thought that would fulfill that task has proven me wrong.

One of the avenues of thought was her temple training. Look not to men for they are created beings. Put your trust in the one who was not created by any hand. Trust in the one who is. Had she been that far off task? Had she really walked that far away from her training and understanding? She had to admit that she had been relying on her own ability and strength. The idea of relying on one that was so distant from her existence was as hard to hold to now as it was then.

Now, first you need a name, and then we will deal with the rest as it comes. Her heart reflected the truth in that simple statement and tried to dismiss the guilt festering in her soul. Calla looked earnestly at the beast that was running its rough tongue over outstretched paws and washing its dirty face. The animal sat in front of Calla with deep interest in what it was now doing; content to be occupied now that Calla stopped moving.

As she observed the creature, she wondered why this animal was following her. "Why are you following me? Do I look like someone that should be followed?" She paused as she thought about that question. She sat down on the grass at the side of the footpath, upwind, next to her new companion.

Well, my friend. She patted the thick fur at the back of its neck and absentmindedly picked a few leaves from the placid curls. You are probably the only one who thinks I am worthy. Her voice was morose.

The day was coming to life under the new sun. The lazy breeze caused the tall tendrils of grass to sway and dance under its force. Calla thought about the Keeper’s story and wondered if Ka’rus was present to join her in her moment of misery. So many people believed in these ancient mystical creatures that were famed as the keepers of all of Taragondia. She began thinking about what she believed as she enjoyed the sun’s kiss on her skin. I can’t even remember their names, Calla laughed. Why should they know mine?

Turning her attention to the creature beside her she announced, So, friend, I will call you D’nala. I hope you like that name, it was my mother’s and it is all I have left of her. Her voice was light and airy as she broke from her thoughts. Calla stood and