Starlin’S Child: The Plaint of Wendor

By Jack Cherbourg

This is the continuing saga of Alnir Searfoss. As the legion of Gornath continues through the northern lands, meeting dark enemies and even darker forces, Alnir continues to discover who he is and who he has the potential to become.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Dec 30, 2016
• ISBN: 9781524657536

Jack Cherbourg

Jack Cherbourg was born a writer. Active in the Orthodox Jewish community, he currently resides in New York.

Book preview

1

F or three millennia, the mokka-dal of Mista had felt safe, but their sense of security had been a false one. They had believed that the waters that cut them off from the rest of the earth on three sides and the impassible ravine that bordered their land to the south protected them from calamity, yet water had been known for time memorial as an effective means of transportation from one point to another, to which the Old World mokka-dal could bear testimony, and the ngors would carry anybody across the ravine indiscriminately. Mista, then, from the beginning, had been as susceptible to hostile foreigners as any other land. That Mista never had born witness to conflict or violence was due to nothing more than Starlin’s divine will, or luck, as Arnagog would have suggested.

Mista indeed had served as host to humans and mokka-dal from the farthest reaches south of the Sea of Turwain, and they even had engaged in bartering and trade with mokka-dal from Old World clans who happened to come into their land. They often had exchanged cultural ideas and values with their visitors, and their own culture had grown rich as a result though they always held steadfast to the eternal values that the Wisdoms instilled in every mokka-dal.

When the Legion of Gornath had stepped onto Mista soil, the majority of the local mokka-dal had believed that they would bring with them blessing as so many other visitors had in the past. It was true that they were accompanied by a small number of sparls, but that was something that could be overlooked with caution. There had been no indication that these visitors would be the prelude to Mista’s fall from innocence.

A violent, deadly clash between the visiting sparls and the mokka-dal had paralyzed Mista in a way that the invasion by Teddar’s children had not. The sparls, the indignant enemy of the mokka-dal race, had been introduced to Mista as allies, and these allies had proven that their nature could not be changed. The veil of trust had fallen within Mista, and there were those who demanded that the entire Legion of Gornath be expelled from their land.

Maunan had used all the energy he could muster to build enough confidence that the mokka-dal and the sparls could ally themselves for the sake of the great war. For him to understand where he had failed was both difficult and humiliating. It might bring his own position of leadership into question, threatening the very security of the Legion and jeopardizing their mission. The risk at which he now found himself was dreadfully great.

The death of the Diso still remained a secret of which only Arnagog and Quis had any knowledge. In light of the sparl affair, they did not want to bring more calamities upon Mista, but they knew well that the truth would have to be revealed in time. They had discussed the possibility of burying the body, but they did not want to disrespect any rituals that the mokka-dal of Mista might have for their dead, so they laid him out respectfully in a spot behind some trees and covered him with some foliage until the time would come to reveal the truth.

It was the question of the sparls that now needed to be the focus of the attention of the Legion. Quis was certain that the sparls were to be held culpable for the death of the Diso and wanted to be rid of them completely, asserting that he never had agreed to the formation of any alliance with them. Arnagog was not certain that the sparls were responsible, but he knew that any hope of a diplomatic solution to the sparl question was now virtually gone.

Until a decision could be reached as to what was to be done with the sparls, all the sparls were ordered to remain in confinement lest any more troubles arise. They remained locked up in the shop in the marketplace. The owner of the shop, one Rirdan Trimfit, was incensed that his shop be used for such a purpose. He could not tolerate sparls any more than the next mokka-dal. Maunan assured him, though, that under the keen watch of the Minotaurs, the sparls would cause no harm to his shop or any of his wares, and he promised an appropriate compensation.

Nura and Raul had attempted to protest the captivity of the sparls, but they themselves had been sent into confinement with the rest of the sparls. They might have been the sparls’ representatives in the Legion, Maunan told them, but sparls they were, and the atmosphere was too sensitive now for any sparls to be out under any circumstances. It was for their own welfare, then, that they would have to remain in confinement with the rest of the sparls.

Alnir believed that there was a solution to the sparl question, and he was confident that he knew precisely what it was. In the depth of the night, while others in Mista attempted to procure some kind of restless sleep, Alnir took the opportunity to see his mentor.

He was amused by the fact that back in Gornath, he would steal away at half-night to go learn the Wisdoms in some secluded place where he could find some peace. Now, he was stealing away in the middle of the night in order to solve a dreadfully difficult conflict, and it was a conflict that involved no less than the most despised enemy of the mokka-dal race.

Alnir rapped on the door of the hut, and Maunan promptly opened the door. He gave Alnir a tired smile.

Maunan, may I speak with you? Alnir asked meekly.

What a question, said Maunan with a swooping gesture of the arm. You risk insulting me by asking such a question, young mokka-dal.

Alnir blushed and entered the hut.

How is your grasp of the Mista language? Maunan asked as they sat down in the entrance room.

Quite well, Alnir replied, but I hardly need to tell you that.

Something is on your mind, Maunan observed.

Indeed.

What is it?

The—situation with the sparls, Alnir said carefully.

Maunan nodded his head. You believe that you have a solution.

Yes. Absolutely, Alnir replied with great confidence.

Maunan threw his arms into the air with a shrug of the shoulders. I am ready to hear what you have to say. He sighed. The situation is quite grave, Alnir. He lowered his eyes and shook his head.

I realize that, Maunan, but I believe that the Wisdoms can help us.

Maunan smiled at Alnir’s optimism. Of course they can. The Wisdoms were given to the mokka-dal for no purpose other than the betterment of the earth.

There is a Wisdom text that deals with the matter of free will. It was written by Pal Vothol.

The first Borod.

Alnir nodded his head. Yes. In one section of the book, he discusses the possibility of bending the will of another to one’s own will. He purports that when one is overcome by a strong sense of hopelessness, then it is possible for another to take control of his will. He writes that under ordinary circumstances, this may be a very treacherous course to take, but it occurred to me that it might behoove us to do so with the sparls.

Take away the free will of another, Maunan pondered. It sounds very treacherous indeed.

Also, said Alnir, the sparls would have to be in enough a state of hopelessness for us to achieve such a goal.

That hardly would be a problem. It might be a cruel method, Alnir, but by no means an impossible goal to achieve.

It seems antithetical to mokka-dal, frankly, but I think that in this case, we have no other choice.

Maunan considered the possibility. It was an enormous task, and it was something that, under ordinary circumstances, might be highly unethical and antithetical not only to mokka-dal but to the entire spirit of the Legion.

Have you any other idea? asked Alnir.

There are plenty who wish to send to sparls back to their land, to break the alliance with them and be finished with them totally.

You are not so quick to do that, though, said Alnir.

No, Maunan admitted. You are correct. I would prefer to have a solution that would keep the sparls among us for the sake of the earth, but it is true that their presence thus far has jeopardized the stability of the Legion.

Then, perhaps—

Yes, said Maunan, rising to his feet. Yes. Perhaps. Perhaps indeed.

I cannot stand discontent, said Alnir.

Discontent is a part of existence—as are hatred, death, love, and peace. You are unique, Alnir, in that you hold onto an idealism that many would disregard as unrealistic. You take your idealism and make of it realism. Very, very few on this earth are capable of doing that.

I have no need of being unique or exceptional—

You are all the same.

I would prefer that there were simply more harmony here.

There will be, and I believe that we can implement your plan. It is, as the first Borod said, not an ideal method, but we have little choice. Have we? Maunan gave Alnir a smile.

It will allow me to sleep more peacefully.

I think it will allow all of us to sleep more peacefully—those of us who are capable of sleeping.

Alnir was contemplative for a moment then said to Maunan, I often think about that dream I had by that river.

Yes.

What if—what if it was wrong? What if I misinterpreted it?

Everything went according to divine will, Alnir.

Look what has happened to us since then. So many lives, Maunan. So many lives.

Alnir, that is not your concern. Everything that has happened was destined to happen. It is ultimately out of our control. We are merely proxies for the divine will. Lose no sleep over such worries, young one.

Alnir was quiet. It was difficult to contest what Maunan said.

Go to sleep now. To rest well is incumbent upon us this evening. When the sun has risen, we shall continue this discussion in greater detail.

Alnir nodded in agreement. He stood up and stifled a yawn with a sheepish smile. Quite well, then.

Let us only hope so, said Maunan.

2

A lnir had suggested that the Legion turn away from its course toward Gatemor. As a result, they had entered sparl territory, and they had been attacked twice by Teddar’s children. It was true that they had been victorious in both battles, but so much blood had been shed, and so many innocent lives had been lost, and an entire library of Wisdom texts had been destroyed. Alnir felt the remorse, and he could not free himself of the guilt.

Walking among the trees on the outskirts of the settlement together with Sontra, he was reminded of the forest of Gornath where he had gone to seclude himself ever so often whenever he might want some solitude to learn the Wisdoms. In those days in Gornath, though he might have been the brunt of ridicule and the object of relentless antagonism, he had been nonetheless free of culpability. Since Maunan the witch had begun to attach to him a stature of importance, he had been allowed to make decisions that had brought calamitous results.

He looked at his companion for a moment without her knowing. He had found within himself a sense of solace and relief in her presence. On a mad earth that was going madder with each passing day, she seemed to be able to provide him with a peace of mind that he never had known in his life.

Yes, she was capable of providing him with something that Maxie simply could not give him. While he was not interested in investing his energies in romantic scenarios, her feminine wiles did not escape his notice. The charm that she held over him caught his attention to the point that it could stir indescribable sensations within his body.

Again, he felt the guilt. How could he devote his time to interpersonal relationships when the stability of the Legion was being threatened? It was because of him that sparls had entered the peaceful land of Mista, and the results thus far had been tragic. He needed to attend to rectifying the sparl affair; he needed to sit with Denar and learn the ancient language of the Mista mokka-dal. Stealing a few moments with Sontra because he was defenseless to her guiles seemed like a sort of betrayal.

Something is bothering you, Alnir, said Sontra with interest.

Alnir shook his head at his failure to hide his present state of mind from her. Something always bothers me when I see suffering before my eyes.

There need be no suffering when you are in my presence.

She was correct, and that was what would not stop disturbing Alnir. Had he a stronger constitution, he would leave her in the care of Luarna and focus his attention on more important matters.

Alnir, Sontra said on a sterner note, you must concern yourself more with life than with suffering. I refer specifically to—your own life. You and I both have suffered enough, have we not? It is time now to move forward to our destinies, and not look back.

I look forward, not back, Alnir contested. That is why I feel a duty to the Legion and to the mokka-dal of Mista, as well.

The purpose of each individual on this earth is, first and foremost, to remain dutiful to himself. After all, she added with a smirk, if you are not your own first priority, then how can you expect yourself to be able to dedicate your—strengths—to others?

Alnir was not satisfied. He needed a purpose being before he could be. To be, to exist, as Alnir Searfoss was not enough for him. He had to accomplish something, to achieve something. Then, he would be able to define himself. He could not expect her to understand that, though. She had come from a different place and different circumstances. He could not expect her to grasp in a few days’ time who Alnir Searfoss was and what gave him life.

I understand, Sontra continued of her own accord, that you come from nowhere, that you are an orphan with no background, no history, no name. I know that you feel that you must achieve something extraordinary in your life in order to find purpose for your existence. She glanced at him and smiled a wry smile. That is who you are—inside your heart. I only am trying to show you that your—outlook on the world—and on yourself—could be reconsidered. She rubbed a finger along the back of Alnir’s hand.

Alnir stepped on a twig. It snapped in two. He glanced down at it. The broken twig had fallen from some tree, and it had been lying on the ground now waiting for the destined moment when it would cease to be one twig but would be broken into two separate pieces, two pieces that never would come together again. It seemed to him at the moment to be unjust, but that was the way of twigs. They just lay on the ground, waiting to be snapped in half.

Alnir! somebody just ahead of them called.

Alnir looked to see who was calling him. They now were approaching the edge of the settlement, and he saw several mokka-dal who were going about their business just ahead of them.

Alnir Searfoss v’Gornath! the voice repeated.

Somebody walked up to Alnir and greeted him with a toothless smile. How nice to be able to greet you on such a pleasant day as today, the mokka-dal stranger said.

Are we acquainted with one another? asked Alnir.

Why, everybody in Mista knows who Alnir Searfoss is, the mokka-dal replied, and I have the pleasure of being able to greet you on such a pleasant day as today. Good day, Alnir. He nodded at Sontra and continued on his way.

Alnir smiled, confused.

Oh, ho, laughed another mokka-dal, approaching him. Glad to have mokka-dal like you here in our land, he said. Be well, Alnir. May Starlin above have mercy on you.

Alnir and Sontra looked at one another.

I think I am a bit confused, said Alnir.

You underestimate yourself, Sontra replied. You are greater than you believe yourself to be.

You speak true nonsense, said Alnir with a suppressed grin. True nonsense.

Some distance away, Alnir spotted Denar, who waved joyfully. Alnir returned the gesture.

"The mokka-dal here see you, Alnir, not as tholan, but as a hero, said Sontra. They know your true worth."

Sontra. Seriousness had returned to Alnir’s voice. I am no hero. A hero would not—

You know not of what you speak.

At that moment, Lumar came into view. He nearly missed Alnir, but he lifted his head for a brief moment, and Alnir caught his eye. He approached Alnir with a look of sheer delight.

Oh, Alnir, he said. How are you this day?

Alnir looked at Lumar quizzically. Why are mokka-dal so jocular with me this morning?

Why should they not be?

Lumar, there is a—dire situation in Mista at present.

Indeed, indeed. A stern look appeared on Lumar’s face. Those—sparls.

Maunan may have a way to remedy the situation.

Remedy the situation? Lumar was uncertain what Alnir meant.

I understand that he knows how to change the relations between the mokka-dal and the sparls.

Lumar shook his head gravely. Young, young mokka-dal. It is with naiveté that you speak, for sparls are—well, sparls.

Alnir, said Sontra in a palpably condescending tone, is Alnir.

Lumar glanced at Sontra for a moment, unsure how to interpret her comment. He returned his attention to Alnir. Sparls are not animals that can be trained to do as you wish. Animals they are, but they are of the most dangerous kind. They have hate in their hearts, Alnir, and they are cunning—very, very cunning. You have seen that already, I am quite certain.

I have faith in Maunan’s wisdom, said Alnir. He leads the Legion, and he does so with great insight. When we have won the war, it will be because of Maunan’s leadership.

The older mokka-dal shrugged his shoulders. I would like to believe that you speak truth, that one witch could solve a centuries-old conflict as though it were as easy as batting an eyelid. He put a gnarled hand on Alnir’s shoulder. Would that it were true, he whispered in a voice that expressed both hope and futility.

Lumar’s proximity to Alnir agitated Sontra. She gasped, and Lumar dropped his hand.

What is the matter? Alnir asked her.

The matter? Oh. Nothing. I think I just saw something scurry across the ground. She gave a laugh that emanated feigned bravado, looking at Lumar with a contempt that went unnoticed.

How are you faring, Sontra, after your ordeal? asked Lumar finally.

Alnir serves as my guiding light, Sontra replied. Without him, I certainly would be lost.

It was Starlin’s will that you found one another, said Lumar.

Sontra made no response, but irritation rose within her.

May I say, Sontra, that you appear to be doing quite well, and the sight of you strengthens the weak heart of this old mokka-dal.

It is only because of this brave soul who stands before you.

Alnir stepped aside, unable to hear Sontra’s praises.

It is only the greatest of valor who can possess true humility, Sontra whispered to Lumar loudly enough for Alnir to hear her.

There was no need to convince Lumar of Alnir’s valor, but this display of humility impressed him. He would not have expected mokka-dal of Alnir’s age to have anything beyond an inflated ego. Youth was not a place where humility was known to dwell.

Alnir had turned his gaze to the tips of his toes in order to remove himself from the embarrassment of Sontra’s compliments. Now, he raised his eyes. The sparls, he said with firm conviction, will be taken care of in an appropriate manner as Maunan sees fit.

Yes, well—

I trust him. You, too, must trust him. There is no other choice.

The sparls have caused trouble since you arrived here— Lumar looked at Alnir and saw how much he believed what he was saying about this alleged plan that Maunan had in mind. He nodded obligingly to Alnir. Let us hope that Starlin shows his mercy on all of us. Anyhow, Alnir, I must be getting along now. There is so much work to be done still to bring some semblance of order back to Mista after the attack of Westil Madon and the sparl affair. Farewell. I shall be around perhaps in the evening to call on Khilish.

Farewell, then, Alnir responded. May Starlin be with you.

May Starlin be with us all. Lumar went on his way.

Alnir looked to Sontra, but she said nothing. She seemed to be staring at some point somewhere in the distance.

Maunan has a plan to bend the will of the sparls to the will of the Legion, Alnir said to Sontra.

Sontra turned to Alnir. What can that mean?

"I—have heard that he wishes to cause the sparls to be on more amiable terms with us."

Cause them? That sounds like something the Wisdoms could do.

I cannot say. Alnir diverted his eyes from Sontra’s. Maunan is a witch, after all. I am sure that such things are well within his capabilities.

Sontra nodded her head, but she was not wholly convinced that Alnir was not talking about the Wisdoms of the mokka-dal.

Alnir! Alnir! More mokka-dal called to him, smiling and waving. He responded with a cordial wave, unsure what had caused this bizarre surge of popularity this morning.

Sontra smiled. The admiration that these mokka-dal had for Alnir could be used to her advantage.

3

I n a secluded patch of woods not far from where the body of the Diso lay, Maunan had described Alnir’s suggestion about a solution to the sparl question to Arnagog, Santos, Pitt, and Mully. Mully scoffed at the idea of forcing the sparls to behave more civilly and was even less impressed by the idea that the Wisdoms might be suggested to be the means to such an end. Santos and Pitt both believed that they might as well try what last resort they might have while Arnagog remained skeptical on account of the secret that he shared with Quis.

The time is nearing that we must leave Mista, Maunan explained. There still remains a chance that we may leave together with the sparls. I, too, considered the possibility that my efforts to forge an alliance with them might have been futile, but Alnir is certain he knows of what he is speaking. If that is the case, then I feel that we are obligated for the sake of all the earth to make this attempt.

Is it not an act of cowardice, though, to rob another of free will? inquired Pitt.

Cruelty, Santos suggested. It seems inhumane.

It may be both cowardly and cruel, Maunan agreed resignedly, but there is little else to do.

Except rid ourselves of the sparls altogether, Mully argued. Purge them, purge them, purge them. He wrung an imaginary sparl neck with his hands and gritted his teeth as he spoke.

Arnagog held up a hand. This is a very grave undertaking that Alnir suggests.

And, I must add, it was he who led us into this fiasco, Mully pointed out.

Be it as it may— said Pitt.

Be it as it may, Arnagog continued, there exists the possibility that it may work. On the other hand, contempt for the mokka-dal runs through the veins of the sparls, and perhaps it is too great an obstacle to pass over.

We hold similar contempt for the villainous sparls, said Mully.

I have seen what Alnir is capable of doing, said Pitt, and I think we can trust him.

We all know of what the young mokka-dal is capable, Pitt, said Arnagog, but we must maintain a sense of realism."

How I would love to give the sparls a sense of realism, said Mully.

Maunan encircled the group, weighing to himself the possibilities, few though they were. He looked into their eyes, the sullenness in Arnagog’s, the naiveté in Mully’s, the willingness in Pitt’s. There was not one simple solution, and although Maunan was accustomed to challenges of the greatest magnitudes, this one was an excruciatingly sensitive one. If he were to make a mistake now, the whole of the earth might pay for it.

He looked into their eyes.

He stood still. I have made my decision, he said to them. I ask for your support, but it is no requirement. I will take this final measure and attempt to alter the will of the sparls.

I support you, said Arnagog, pulling his sword from its sheath and extending it.

I support you, said Pitt, extending his own sword and placing the blade on Arnagog’s.

That goes for me, said Santos, joining the oath of the blade.

Everybody looked at Mully.

Mully dug a claw into the ground nervously. He looked around at the four pairs of eyes that were waiting for him. He groaned. Very well, he muttered with a defeated shake of the head. He withdrew his own sword and placed it atop the others. Starlin’s will is my will, he said, looking around at Maunan and the humans. Let this be a victory not for my race but for all of the earth.

4

T he dark of night was one of Alnir’s most trusted confidants, and he found the opportunity to share it with Denar as the two of them sat in Khilish’s hut huddled over cups of steaming blueberry tea, looking by candlelight into the enigmatic text that had survived the destruction of Mista’s sacred library.

Alnir read slowly. Vura rispra lan—

Lanteq, Denar assisted him.

’Heart breathes passion.’ Alnir looked up from the brown pages of the text. He wiped his hands on his tunic for the years of dust on the text managed to dirty his hands every time he touched it. I want you to know, Denar, that I appreciate that you are helping me to learn to understand this text.

Denar blushed. It is my honor, Alnir. You are so— He searched for the appropriate word but could not find it.

I cannot begin to describe to you what it means to me that I understand this book. This is a very, very important work.

I know, said Denar with an affirmative nod. I see upon it its value. What a blessing from Starlin above that it was not a casualty of the destruction of the library.

There was no other text in the library that contained what this text contains, said Alnir. Maunan told me so. The existence of this text is very dangerous lest Teddar’s children return as the earth could not exist in its present form without this text.

So great it is?

I am quite certain.

A look of realization crossed Denar’s face. If the existence of this book is such a danger, he said, then you endanger yourself by learning it.

Alnir nodded in agreement. No alternative have I, though. He sipped his tea.

You must protect yourself, then, Alnir. Life is worth more than parchment, as the saw goes.

This parchment, said Alnir, carefully brushing the cover of the text with a finger, "is life."

Maxie stirred in his bed, and Denar realized that they ought to be more careful not to arouse anybody in the hut at such a late hour.

What, then, would you do to protect this text? asked Denar quietly.

Precisely what I am doing. I intend to commit the text to memory. The parchment itself, then, will become little more than parchment, and its physical destruction—if such is destined—will be nothing more than the destruction of cheap, replaceable materials. He thumbed through the folios of the book.

Then, it would be you that Teddar’s children would want to destroy.

They are unaware that I possess this book, Denar, and it ought to remain that way. It is our secret.

Naturally, Alnir. I simply worry for your safety.

Put your worries to better use and worry for all the earth if the contents of this text were to be lost, Starlin forbid.

Denar picked up the text. He looked carefully at the symbol on the cover. Bersovka’i. The Wisdoms. The Last Wisdoms of Intalnua. Who was Intalnua, in fact? What had he