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Tond, Book Two: The Wanderer
Tond, Book Two: The Wanderer
Tond, Book Two: The Wanderer
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Tond, Book Two: The Wanderer

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An interlude during Rolan’s quest, “Tond, Book Two: The Wanderer” is set fifteen years earlier. Tayon Dar-Táeminos, a cynical Fyorian loremaster, is wandering in northern Tond and collecting lore. Then, pursued by hideous invaders, Tayon discovers that he carries a great mechana that can stop those same invaders – but he has no knowledge of what it is or how to use it. He decides that he must either find the answers or forge his own mechana powerful enough to thwart them. His decision could have fatal consequences, since the attackers plan to drive him (and the nefarious Karjan high-knight Roagh) to unwittingly help them create a terrifying monster.
“Tond: The Wanderer” is the second book in a series of four, plus an auxiliary volume. The adventure began with “Tond: The Sons of Tlaen Ras-Erkéltis” and will continue in “Tond: Northward Journey”, and “Tond: The War of Mechanas”. The extra volume will answer more questions about the world of Tond.

LanguageEnglish
Release dateAug 25, 2016
ISBN9781370869985
Tond, Book Two: The Wanderer

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    Tond, Book Two - Steven E. Scribner

    Tond

    Book Two: The Wanderer

    Cover illustration:

    The four-pointed star of the Fyorian loremasters;

    The first verse of the unknown loremaster’s poem, in Fyorian,

    with its Kayánti background art,

    as found by Tayon in the Tower of the Star (Chapter Three)

    Copyright 2015 Steven E. Scribner

    Published by Steven E. Scribner 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 enjoyment only, then please return to Smashwords.com or your favorite retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

    Table of Contents

    Acknowledgements

    Synopsis of Book One: The Sons of Tlaen Ras-Erkéltis

    Chapter One: The Halls of the Chelloi

    Chapter Two: Assassins

    Chapter Three: The Tower of the Star

    Chapter Four: TL and the Duel at Telna Tagom

    Chapter Five: The Grimborn

    Chapter Six: The Circle of Shining

    Chapter Seven: Gaeshug-Tairánda

    Appendix: Glossary of Tondish Words

    About Steven E. Scribner

    Other books by Steven E. Scribner

    Connect with Steven E. Scribner

    Synopsis of Book One:

    The Sons of Tlaen Ras-Erkéltis

    Mechanas are self-contained technological objects left by an ancient industrialized civilization. They are usually hard to recognize, being disguised as everyday items in the world of Tond. But the Fyorian loremasters know the lore of the mechanas and use them to hold off aggression from the hostile Karjan Imperium to the south. Each loremaster has two or three mechanas of his own.

    The loremasters are at first unaware of a great danger that is developing.

    This is the second book of the Tond series.

    In the first book, Rolan and Arnul, half-brothers and sons of the Fyorian ahíinor loremaster Tlaen Ras-Erkéltis, hear some startling news about the northern region of Tond called Borrogg. Arnul, the younger of the two, makes a mystery-challenge: they must find out the truth, or (according to legend) be driven mad. They sneak into another loremaster’s room and use the Fiery Eye, one of the mechanas, to look at Borrogg. Something takes control of the Eye, and creates a portal – out of which lunges a ferocious grosk. The grosk stings Rolan with its poisonous tail, kills another loremaster and kidnaps Arnul by dragging him back through the portal and closing it from the other side.

    After Rolan revovers from the poison, some loremasters discuss with him what they have found out about the grosk and where it might have taken Arnul. Grosks are associated with a malevolent entity called Gaeshug-Tairánda (atrocities, too evil for name), which supposedly lives in Borrogg. It may have been hiding there for some time, but they know very little about it. Rolan decides to go on a quest to find out more and rescue his brother, if he is in Borrogg.

    Following clues left earlier by the dead loremaster, Rolan first travels south towards the Tower of Dawn, the only city-state in the Karjan Imperium that is friendly with the Fyorians. Another loremaster and his family travel with Rolan, acting as guides – they were heading south through the Imperium on their own journey. During the trip Rolan falls ill and begins to change physically; it is discovered that the grosk has placed a mechana in his flesh when it stung him. This mechana secretes a substance that alters the spiral of life (DNA) and is changing him into a grosk himself. Also, Rolan and the others discover that they are being followed by at least one gruntag, another type of creature associated with Gaeshug-Tairánda; it is using another mechana to control Rolan’s transformation.

    After a few incidents, Rolan arrives at the border of the Imperium. He meets Tayon, a renegade loremaster (i.e. not in the official loremaster order). Tayon had seen the creation of Gaeshug-Tairánda years before and is the only survivor of that incident. Tayon confirms the clues that there are in fact people in the Tower of Dawn who can help. Tayon and Rolan, and the others, take a boat up the river Cheihar toward the Tower. They are ambushed by gruntags and mordhs – in the ensuing battle, Rolan changes more. The monsters are defeated temporarily. But, Tayon decides that he must try to remove the grosk crystal that is causing Rolan to change; otherwise the metamorphosis may be complete before they reach the Tower. This surgery is difficult and dangerous on a rocking boat, but there is no choice since the riverbanks are probably being patrolled by gruntags. Tayon uses an herbal preparation to put Rolan into a deep sleep while he performs the operation. He also uses another mechana that will create a dream in Rolan’s mind that will tell how Gaeshug-Tairánda was created; he says this tale must be told for Rolan to be able to fight the monster.

    Book Two is that tale.

    Chapter One

    The Hall of the Chelloi

    Syèg shé rô, qăn syèg nxăt syèbtlák àt.

    Not every wanderer is welcomed in every land.

    (Drennic proverb)

    Fifteen years before Rolan Ras-Erkéltis was in the boat heading to the Tower of Dawn: the world of Tond was different place. Renegade warriors were wandering the northeastern land near Borrogg looking for people to rob, and the skullpox was raging in some areas of Rohándal and the Sherványa lands. Many of the ahíinor had taken to wandering to escape the plague, though most said they were traveling to collect lore as they had always done. Karjan warriors were still attacking villages and drinking the blood of their victims, and the Imperium was threatening to overrun all of southern Tond; the mechanas of the ahíinor were the only powers holding them back. The Tower of Dawn was not yet friendly with the Fyorians, but some of the Karjan hrakezh rulers grudgingly respected the ahíinor. The monster Gaeshug-Tairánda and its underlings were not yet heard of. In fact they were only a dream, and the Circle of Shining was not even that. But all that was about to change; there was an invasion soon to take place.

    It was at this time that the Taennishman Nammar went to meet a wandering ahíinor near the borders of the Drennic Lands.

    Kaii and the Drennlands; Fourth Month, Fyorian Year 592

    The last rain from the thundershower was just over as Tayon stepped out from under the brush and back onto the road. He adjusted his backpack, took his árukand walking staff in his hand, strapped his sword to his waist as always (the handle of the thing was still ugly protruding from the scabbard like that; with all the time he had just spent in Kaii he should have had a metalsmith do something about it). He looked around at the water-drops on the tree-leaves sparkling in the new sunshine, and then proceeded down the road.

    If the maps were right, he should be able to get to the border town of Akeli by sundown. If the maps were right; he had gotten lost several times before by following maps. Hmmm, he pondered, he should go into business as a mapmaker himself. He could get wanderers just as lost as anyone else could; and he might have more fun doing it. Make the road go just slightly more northward, for example, and someone would think that it would head into the mountains where it would freeze in the winter, so they might opt to take the more southerly direction, where he might locate a mythical town (name it something like Fools’ Town) or put a real town just slightly farther away than it really was so they might try to get there in one day when actually it would take them three (no, that was too mean, especially if they didn’t have any food). How about putting a river crossing the road there, where actually there was a lake...

    He was walking down the road thinking amusing thoughts like this and whistling an old Fyorian ditty to himself when he came across the man in the green robe sitting on a log by the edge of the forest.

    A man of very curious appearance, the man in the green robe. His face seemed very young, without wrinkles or lines, but there was a look of ancient wisdom and sadness in his eyes. Odd, but his eyes were not of a color that Tayon had ever seen before. His skin was tan and he had no beard. He didn’t seem to have gotten at all wet in the storm that had just passed. His green robe was made of leaves, but it was not woven, and no seams were visible. Judging from these rather unusual features, he was probably a Taennishman. He regarded Tayon with a friendly if somewhat fearful expression.

    Good day to you, Taennishman! said Tayon.

    And a good day to you too, Tayon Dar-Táeminos! was the reply. My name is Nammar. I have come to give you an important message.

    Tayon rolled his eyes. Of all the times to meet a Taennishman with an important message. Those important messages were always about prophecies and spirits and so on, and they were often long. Even if the Taennishman did know his name. I don’t have the time, he replied, Give it to me tomorrow. I’ll be back here then. About the same time tomorrow as when fish grow feathers, he decided.

    The Taennishman continued. "Actually it’s a short message. There is an evil arising in Tond. A great evil that will try to destroy everything that we know. It will attack you first because you carry a powerful mechana that can stop it. My message is a request: join me to help me fight the evil."

    "Oh great. Look, sir, I don’t even know you. Nor do I know anything about great evils and powerful mechanas. I have a mechana or two and a glowball like all the ahíinor carry. I have a sword that my teacher, Old Rugalar, gave me, and I can use it skillfully. Other than that, I have nothing. I’m afraid that you have the wrong Tayon Dar-Táeminos; either that or you’re going to tell me that, unknown to me, I’m some kind of a savior or something."

    No, I wouldn’t tell you that, because it’s not true. Shar is the one appointed to this world for that. I am not of this world. But I can tell you this; about this time next week you will be in a desperate situation. At that time I will rescue you if you will join me.

    Bother you Taennishmen! You and your prophecies! Now you know what’s going to happen. In the back of my mind, I’m going to always be looking for that prophecy to come true, even if only to prove that it’s not going to come true! ...so I’ll go and get myself in come kind of trouble by this time next week. Well, I’m going to the Drennic Lands to meet with the Chelloi to learn some Drennic lore. I don’t think that I’ll get myself into any trouble there. So good day, sir. He began to walk away.

    Good day. said the Taennishman. I fear for you, though; it is in the halls of the Chelloi that you will first see the evil. This prophecy is written.

    Tayon stopped, and wheeled around to face the Taennishman. That does it! Now I’m going to go and do something that makes the Chelloi angry! Oh, I know; you just said it was a written prophecy. There’s a problem with written Taennish prophecies. You always write them on that Sherványa paper. Well I know what that Sherványa paper is made from, and I think you took one of those written prophecies, rolled it up, ignited the end, and inhaled the fumes. That’s it, Taenishman, you smoked it. Like the Sherványa sometimes do when they want divine influences.

    The Taennishman laughed heartily. "Well said! But unfortunately it’s wrong; the Sherványa no longer inhale those fumes to get divine influences, and even if they did, it wouldn’t work. All it does is cloud the mind so one thinks it’s divine influences. The Fyorian Ancients certainly knew that, so I thought you knew it too."

    "I did know that. But I didn’t know that you did. said Tayon. Now, if you will excuse me. I have a Chelloi to go see, and some Taennish prophecies to go and avoid." He stomped off down the road, not glancing back.

    The Taennishman stayed behind, sitting on the log. A tear trickled down his cheek as he watched Tayon leave.

    Tayon continued walking, counting the steps and remembering what he had learned in Kaii, trying to forget his encounter with the Taennishman. Nothing kept his thoughts from wandering back to it, though; Taennishmen and their prophecies had a way of gripping the mind. A great evil would soon come to Tond. Well, that had happened before. The Devastation. Certainly there couldn’t be any evil greater than the Devastation! Untold thousands had died in the agony of inextinguishable fire and raging disease. The entire land of Rohándal had been blasted to a desert, and was only now beginning to recover, five-hundred years later. The Fyorians counted the years of their civilization from that time. ...But this was an evil that would attack him, Tayon Dar-Táeminos, first, personally, because he carried some great, powerful, and fatal mechana. Well he didn’t have any mechanas except for the ones he had told the Taennishman about. And something like the Devastation couldn’t be selective and attack one person at a time; it was more of a wipe out absolutely everything, ask no questions, and show no mercy type of destruction. Was the Taennishman talking about something like that?

    ...Oh backstab it all, better think about something else. That was an interesting tree up ahead, with pine-like bark but with broad leaves; he hadn’t seen one like it before. He wondered if that was the mysterious darkwood that a lot of árukand walking staffs and mechanas were made from...

    Yes, some mechanas were apparently made of wood, especially those kinds which were intended to look very mysterious and arcane, possibly like the one that he was carrying, the Great Mechana which would cause the evil to attack him first, but he didn’t have anything made of wood except for his walking-staff. Maybe it was a mechana? It was the only árukand he had ever seen which didn’t have a blade hidden inside of it (he had bought it for a cheap price back in Rohándal because he didn’t need a hidden blade; the sword that his teacher had given him – the grand prize for winning so many sword-battles in his guild – was quite enough). But perhaps, unknown to its previous owner, the staff was a mechana. What could it do? Why would it be powerful enough to cause something dreadful to attack him...?

    Aughhh! There were those same thoughts again. Taennishmen. Prophecies. Great evils. Greater mechanas. Swords and daggers! Why did Nammar have to tell him such matters? Of course it was all pine-fur and dog-feathers. Complete nonsense. So why did it keep coming back to his mind?

    Oh, there was something related deeper in his thoughts, a shadow in his memory, something he had heard somewhere... something about a Taennishman. His mother had told him... His mother had said that when he was just seven days old, a Taennishman had sneaked into his room and tried to kill him. Tried to smother him in his own blanket. His mother had said that the would-be murderer was a Taennishman. But others had said no, it was a wanderer, more like a Fyorian than anything, but of an unknown race. Some said it was a Gleph. Still others had said that it was just a

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