Zierath: Lord of the Alliance

By M. David Loyal

Welcome to the Achar, a huge rotating mobius strip encircling a yellow sun. The Achar is home to hundreds of sentient races, bizarre monsters, thousands of countries, and the Imrhys, a race of immortal humans with great magical abilities who believe it is their responsibility to save the world.

More than three thousand years have passed since the last great Gnarrhys War, but Lord Zierath and his fellow Imrhys still remember it. More than half of all the sentients on the Achar died in that war. Now, rumors of a darkness forming off in the west set Zierath out on a quest to gather allies, armies, and information before the darkness envelops them all. Of course, the first trick is to get out of the tedious administrative duties of ruling a large confederation of countries. Zieraths solution is simple. Sneak out of the castle, city, and country before the regent can stop him. However, if the regent can see into the future, things can get complicated very quickly.

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Jun 1, 2007
• ISBN: 9780595898299

M. David Loyal

M. David Loyal is a jack-of-all-trades. He is an author, an artist, cartoonist, an animator, a web designer, a musician, an actor, and a director. He has worked as a cashier, a waiter, a factory worker, a teacher, and a TRIO professional. He lives in the Driftless area of Iowa with his wife, Kathleen.

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Copyright © 2008, 2012 by Scott D. Zierath

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This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

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ISBN: 978-0-595-45520-1 (sc)

ISBN: 978-0-595-69622-2 (hc)

ISBN: 978-0-595-89829-9 (e)

iUniverse rev. date: 09/14/2012

Contents

Introduction – The Awakening

Chapter 1 - Zierath

Chapter 2 - Ambrosius

Chapter 3 - Ka’Senne

Chapter 4 - The Zierath Café

Chapter 5 - The Karland

Chapter 6 - Boratch

Chapter 7 - More Arrivals

Chapter 8 - Mattew

Chapter 9 - The Council of Nobles

Chapter 10 - The Departure

Chapter 11 - Soldiers and Oracles

Chapter 12 - Maz City

Chapter 13 - Maz and the Manicotti

Chapter 14 - Kuker

Chapter 15 - The Jolly Elmo

Chapter 16 - Hoffner

Chapter 17 - Melanie

Chapter 18 - The Hovden League

Chapter 19 - Two Items of Light

Chapter 20 - DeeDee

Chapter 21 - The Imrhys Council

Chapter 22 - Missing

Chapter 23 - Kerkove

Chapter 24 - Centaurs

Chapter 25 - The Light of the Achar

Chapter 26 - Avalonia

Chapter 27 - Library Books

Chapter 28 - Isle Rembrandt

Chapter 29 - Boratch

Chapter 30

Glossary

Afterward:

For: my grandfather Maurice Neverman, from whom I learned two very important things: persistence (or stubbornness, depending on who you talk to) and how to both win and lose gracefully.

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Introduction – The Awakening

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T he first thing Zierath noticed was the dank, reptilian smell as he regained consciousness. The second thing he noticed was the sharp ache over on the top of his head. Somewhere deep in his consciousness, he did feel a bit of relief. If he felt that much pain, he must be alive. Alive was good.

Zierath slowly opened his eyes and slammed them shut again. A single shaft of light cracked through the darkness, but it was too much for his eyes and head. He groaned and forced himself to open his eyes. His head was heavy, but he lifted it up slightly and looked around.

The first thing he saw was his black leather billed cap. He exhaled. It was something familiar, something that was his. Gingerly, he picked it up, trying to avoid stabbing pains to his skull. He felt a little more confident when it was firmly in his grasp.

The rest of what filled his vision was not nearly as familiar. He was in the middle of a massive cavern. The cavern appeared to be natural, and the rock was the reddish brown rock of the mountains of Rado. All the cavern surfaces had the uneven, slimy look, and the stalactites and stalagmites were dead giveaways.

The single beam of light was not nearly as bright as Zierath first thought it was. The pale sunlight streamed down through a crack in the ceiling. Dust was still dancing through the shaft of light. He could not have been unconscious for long.

Zierath shifted slightly, and his head throbbed. Wincing, he reached up and touched his head. The hair was matted and sticky. He brought his hand back down and saw that his hand was red with blood. He stared at it for a moment, and then shut his eyes.

Lying on the cold, stone floor, Zierath tried to remember how he came to be in the darkness. His aching head did not help the process.

The memories came back to him in pieces. He remembered rising early in the morning to work on some pieces for his art class. He remembered leaving his dormitory and getting one of the University horses for a trip up into the mountains. Riding up into the mountains surrounding Huntian University, he had chosen a picturesque spot. Then he built a small fire from sticks and leaves and branches he had cut with his hatchet. He even remembered arranging his ink, quills, graphite stick and charcoal stick in a fairly haphazard way in a small wooden box. Then he began drawing the landscape.

Zierath recalled muttering over the drawing. The reality was majestic, but the drawing fell short. Zierath was very good at seeing patterns, but he did make intuitive leaps and often skipped intermediate steps. Somewhere or another, he had left out an important detail and the perspective was out of alignment. The basic shape of the mountains was pretty close, but the shading was throwing him. He looked askance at the charcoal stick. He was pretty good with graphite, but shading with a charcoal stick was always very challenging. He finally decided to chance it, and bending with concentration, he had worked the offending lines into his drawing.

Perhaps it was that intense concentration that made him oblivious to everything around him. He certainly should have noticed the sudden stillness—the lack of birdsong. He remembered it now. He had just about finished the outline when his horse screamed. Zierath jerked his head around towards the trees. His horse was not where he had picketed it. Deeper in the woods, he saw the horse rear, and then disappear with an agonized groan. Zierath leapt up and grabbed the small hatchet and ran towards it. Suddenly, just beyond the first row of trees, the ground had given away, and he had tumbled forward. I must have hit my head on the way down, he thought.

Zierath’s muscles groaned as he started to push himself to his feet. Suddenly, he froze as he heard the rustling sound of scales scraping over stone.

The young man swallowed hard and groped in the darkness for the hatchet, but he could not find it. He continued rising slowly. Remembering his training from the professors at the Huntian University, Zierath stretched out his hand. He shut his eyes to focus for a moment, and imagined a small ball of light floating two inches above his palm. With intense concentration, he released the image to the universe, and the universe responded.

Even though he was scared, bloody, and trapped in an unknown cave, Zierath felt a moment of pride and relief as the ball of light appeared. While everyone in the Ring had some little magic, very few could convince the universe to change for them on demand. Most people’s magic worked subconsciously, and they attributed it to luck or natural ability. One person in three hundred could do minor tricks in one of the nine magics, and only one in three thousand could make a living as a mage. And then there were the Imrhys – the immortal humans. Living longer than elves and dragons, the Imrhys were the Guardians of the Archar with immense magical capabilities. Only full-blooded humans had a chance to become an Imrhys, and only one in about three billion humans did.

Holding the flickering ball of greenish light a little higher, Zierath convinced it to brighten more. The light cast eerie shadows across the immense cave. Zierath recoiled as he looked down.

Bones littered the floor. Many were animal bones, but at least one human skull was staring up at him. Zierath shuddered back in revulsion. Swallowing against his dry mouth, he peered around the cavern. The rustling of scales came from behind him.

He slowly turned around and looked down. A four-foot-by-four-foot section of the floor started to rise. Geometric patterns crisscrossed the section, and Zierath took a step back. He should have seen it. The pattern was far different from anything else in the cavern, and he usually excelled at spotting patterns. The fall and the bump on the head had dazed him more than he thought. Everything finally clicked in his befuddled mind: the regular glossy crisscross patterns, the rustling sound as they rubbed against each other, the reptilian smell…. The four-foot-by-four-foot section of floor was not a section of floor at all. It was a head, wedge-shaped and flat. Green eyes reflected the small, glowing ball that Zierath held. A black tongue flickered out, tasting the air. The crisscross shaped scales on the head were orange and shiny, and a mottled pattern could be seen in the orange and black stripes that stretched down it body. Zierath could not see where the body ended.

The massive head continued to rise, and Zierath found himself staring up at the eyes as the giant snake towered twelve feet above him. Shuddering slightly, he pulled himself out of his reverie and slowly raised his other hand. He fluttered his fingers slightly, and said through a very dry throat, Hello.

The giant snake pulled its massive head back. He then cocked it to the left, and then to the right. A sibilant laugh erupted from the snake’s long neck.

Zierath felt the tightness in his chest relax. Oh, thank the Turhys, you’re sentient, the young man said with a smile. I was getting a little worried there. He raised his hand and brightened the glowing light just a little bit. I don’t suppose you could show me the way out.

The giant snake cocked its head again. The way out? A glimmer deep in the giant snake’s green eyes made Zierath’s chest tighten all over again. No, I don’t think so. The snake began to weave back and forth.

Zierath started to back away, shuffling his way through the bones. I don’t suppose you want to talk about this….

How typically human, the snake sneered. You all think you can talk your way out of anything. The snake’s head rose even higher. We Cobrakes learned long ago not to trust you humans. A massive hood flared out from his neck. Now you play with the King Cobrake. The giant snake lunged down at the young man. Twin fangs arced out from the roof of the snake’s suddenly opened mouth.

Zierath stepped back and his foot came down on the human skull. He fell, and the Cobrake’s mouth snapped shut directly over his head. Zierath scrambled as the giant serpent pulled back for another lunge. Rib bones, pelvic bones, femurs, and tibias rolled beneath him as he half crawled, half jumped as the snake’s head cracked onto the floor behind him. The King Cobrake hissed in pain as he pulled back for another strike.

In his panic, Zierath felt frantically for some kind of weapon. His seeking hand came across a smooth, wooden handle. It was his hatchet! He whirled, trying to pinpoint the Cobrake’s location in the gloom before it could lunge again. The little green light brightened again, and the snake hissed, weaving his head to the left.

Zierath cocked his arm back and hefted the hatchet. Didn’t your mother ever tell you not to play with your food? the young man yelled as he threw the hatchet with all his might. It spun through the air, dead on target. The sharp blade hit the King Cobrake on the nose and bounced off.

The King Cobrake pulled his head back and wiggled his nose. His black tongue flickered out, and his eyes went even more flat. Now you die, human.

Time seemed to slow down. Zierath looked desperately around the cavern, taking in every detail. There was nothing. No place to hide. Nothing to grab. The only thing around was the single glowing light Zierath had created.

It was hopeless, but he wasn’t going down without trying everything. Zierath grabbed at the ball of light and flicked his arm towards the snake.

The little green ball shot at the Cobrake like an arrow. The light brightened, and the little ball burned a hole through the scaled hood of the Cobrake. The Cobrake jerked back and hissed with the overtone of a roar.

Zierath held out his hand and the brightly glowing light zipped and floated over his open palm. He could feel the heat and charge from the glowing ball. How is this possible? he asked in wonder, keeping an eye on the writhing King Cobrake.

The patterns of his life came into clear focus. Magical ability, lineage, age—it all worked out. He gasped as time started back up again. It’s an Awakening.

The King Cobrake stopped writhing. He rose again and spread his hood. Zierath saw the large hole, and then he saw the opening to the cave behind it. You’re an Imrhys? For the first time, a little fear joined the insanity in the Cobrake’s eyes. Monster! Abomination!

Zierath raised his hand again, holding the glowing ball between his fingers. He could feel the energy flickering across his fingers. The little ball grew larger until it was the size of a striking doomball. The head-sized ball glowed brightly, throwing shadows off at sharp angles away from them. Back off, Zierath warned. His arm was wound as tight as a spring.

The King Cobrake lashed forward, and Zierath released his arm. The ball of energy sizzled as it streaked towards the giant snake’s head and exploded on contact. The scales on the King Cobrake’s face splintered and shattered, and the giant snake screamed. Arcs of lightning burnt the skin and muscle, revealing the bones beneath. The eyes blackened and melted. The poisoned fangs cracked. The hood splayed and the body thrashed.

Zierath stared at the death throes of the King Cobrake. His eyes widened as the insane…yet sentient…creature passed. The newly Awakened Imrhys stood glowing a soft green in the dark.

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Chapter 1 - Zierath

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Z ierath sat up abruptly in bed and looked wildly around. Flashes of green electricity lit up the room as he got his emotions under control. Glancing at his hands, he saw the raw green energy flickering over them. He shook his hands and the last wisps of power faded into nothingness.

He was sitting up in a large bed in the middle of a circular room. Bookcases and tapestries lined the walls. One large fireplace jutted out of the room directly opposite an open door where a cool breeze made the curtains flutter. Above the fireplace mantle, a five foot long claymore hung next to a coppery shield. Both items were glowing slightly: the claymore green, the shield orange.

Zierath reached up and covered his face with his hand briefly and shuddered. It had been a dream. A memory dream, but a dream nonetheless. It was the same dream he had at least once a year for the past four thousand years. The encounter with the King Cobrake triggered his Imrhys Awakening. The massive release of power that had killed the insane giant snake rendered Zierath nearly immortal.

Zierath swung his legs out of the big feather bed. Movement near the opening to the winding staircase startled him, and he caught his breath until his eyes focused on the large standing mirror. In the reflection was a peach-skinned man of average height and slightly more than average bulk. At the moment, his long mane of wavy brown hair was completely out of control. Even with his power intentionally dulled, his eyes reflected light like a cat’s, but with a green cast to them.

It was a very different image than what he saw in the mirror the day that he faced the King Cobrake. He had been thinner and his face had been much more angular. Years of life had rounded him out, and smile lines and frown lines were etching their way into his face, but under all the changes, Zierath could still see the struggling young artist.

Of course, that had been four thousand years ago. He had been twenty then, and over those four thousand years, he had physically aged about thirteen.

He glanced to the other side of his feather bed. Ka’Senne slept quietly; her long red hair was spread across the pillow and flowed down onto the mattress. Her oval face was calm. He quietly reached over and stroked a few strands of coppery hair off of her face.

Ka’Senne stirred, and a warm breath seemed to flitter across Zierath’s mind. Zierath touched her cheek and thought of a beautiful green wooded land not too far from where he sat. He could almost hear the soothing bubbling brook running through it. Ka’Senne smiled sleepily, and Zierath felt the impression of soft lips on his as his wife drifted back to sleep.

Zierath moved quietly to the balcony door. He went out the open door into the cool autumn air. The clear sky in front of him helped his mind shake off the last shivers of the dream. Leaning on the marble balcony railing, Zierath looked down at his Castle. He and Ka’Senne had their chambers in the highest chamber of the tallest of the seven towers.

He stared up at the sky. Above him a little to the east, Tudora, the summer moon, glowed – a large white moon with bluish highlights. Of the four moons that appeared throughout the year, Tudora seemed the most incongruous. Wodan, the winter moon, was a hard, cracked white; Ceresa, the spring moon, was a pale flower yellow; and Fernius, the fall moon, had a reddish coloring. For a summer moon, Tudora was an awfully cool color. He looked up at the craters and imagined that he could see the Elf in the Moon again.

As he stared at the round moon, he thought of how unnatural it was. The moon was round, but he lived on a Ring. The Ring, or Achar as the sentients called it, was spinning through space around a yellow sun. The Ring was slowly turning in on itself, creating times when his side of the Ring faced the stars, and whatever was on the other side was exposed to the sun. He idly wondered what was on the other side of the Ring.

Zierath looked out across the rolling hills that surrounded his Castle. The gray streaked marble glistened in the moonlight. Three hundred feet directly below him; the inner courtyard was lined with oak and pine trees. During the day, squirrels played continually, chattering and chasing each other. Now at night, bats and flying squirrels had the run of the oaks.

But Zierath was not looking inside the Castle. He was watching a herd of bison beyond the inner wall. The large beasts had bedded down near the Eastern Road. As he watched them, Zierath sighed and shook his head a little. A lopsided half smile appeared on his face. In his long life, he had always envied animals. They didn’t have to deal with the same mundane problems that sentient beings did. That simple freedom made his heart ache. The Lord of Zierathdom then looked beyond the rolling hills towards the outer wall.

The outer wall was about five miles away, encasing the wildlife preserve that surrounded the Castle. Beyond the outer wall was one of the largest cities on the known Ring. The buildings reached above the walls at irregular intervals. The chimneys of the Foundry, the largest steel manufacturer in Zierathdom, steamed mildly to the east. The tall corporate and mercantile buildings, some towering ten stories, were to the south. The smaller residential buildings could be seen to the north and south. Throughout the city, massive niurb trees with their spiraling trunks stretched, some of them taller than the ten-story buildings of the merchant quarter. Lights of the households that were craftedinto the trunk and branches flickered through their broad leaves. During the day, those leaves provided shade for many of the blocks below. If he squinted, he could see the Tower Dorms on the campus of the University of Scottlund off to the northwest.

Zierath stared for another moment at the metropolis he and his friends had built and guided for the last three thousand years. It was a beautiful city, but he also knew that he was a little biased. The fact didn’t bother him that much. It was home.

A cashcoin for your thoughts, a soft voice said from the doorway. Zierath turned and saw his red-haired wife leaning on the frame. She had pulled on a soft, green robe.

I didn’t mean to wake you, the Lord of the Alliance said.

Any time you get up, you wake me. Having you in bed and in my head makes me very alert to your comings and goings.

Zierath smiled slightly and opened his arms. Ka’Senne came over and Zierath enfolded the tiny woman in his arms. He put his chin on top of her head and gazed out at the city beyond the walls.

You are always warm, Ka’Senne noted as she snuggled closer to him. Here we are on a cool night, and you’re still warm.

Just warm blooded, Zierath said. I can’t help it.

They stood there for a moment, and then Ka’Senne shifted. So, why are you up at 3:00 in the morning?

Awakening dream, Zierath said shortly.

Ah, Ka’Senne said. It came early this year.

Just a month or so, he said softly. He kissed the top of her head.

It usually comes a day or so before or after the actual Awakening date, the red-haired queen said. A month is awfully early.

Who knows why my brain does anything? Zierath responded whimsically. I’m sure my subconscious is trying to tell me something. It will come with time.

Zierath sensed the slight stiffening of her body. You should not ignore your subconscious, love, Ka’Senne said. If something feels off, you know we should pay attention to it.

I honestly can’t say how it feels at all. It could just be wanderlust, you know. It does bite me now and then.

And that in itself may be a message, Ka’Senne said, stopping him. She stood up on her tiptoes and kissed his lips. You need to listen to what messages you are getting. Right now, though, you had better get some sleep.

They headed back inside arm in arm. Ka’Senne was right. In a few hours, someone would be coming to wake him up for another day of meetings and planning. He had better head back to bed.

The Lord of the Zierathan Alliance drifted back to sleep and dreamt of running through an open pasture near a herd of bison.

Chapter 2 - Ambrosius

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Z ierath was sweating. The leather jerkin creaked as he swung. The steely ring of swords crashing rang in his ears, and the jarring blow on his shield was satisfying. He swung his own sword at his opponent, who easily brushed the heavy sword aside. The riposte clattered on Zierath’s red and blue shield.

Grinning, the King of Zierathdom found an opening. He released a series of blows that sent his opponent stumbling back. The advance ended with a binding twist move and the sword flew out of the other man’s hand.

Ye did it to me again, milord, Sir Angus MacBain said. His melodic Hylander accent rolled off his tongue, but the tone was one of disgust. I thought I had come up with a counter for that particular disarm. The broad knight pulled his helmet off and set it on a shelf. Grabbing a couple of towels, Angus turned back to Zierath. The knight’s face was chiseled with wrinkles around his blue eyes and strong lines going from the sides of his nose and disappearing into his dark brown muttonchop mustache. I’ve been working on a defense to that move for weeks. Some bodyguard I am if I can’t even defeat my own lord. The knight mopped the sweat off his face.

Laughing, Zierath headed back to his starting position, I’ve been perfecting that series for a couple hundred years. Do you want another shot at it?

I’d love to, milord, but… Angus said, jerking his head towards the door.

At the door stood a