The Anointment

By Peter Charles Miller Sr.

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• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Jul 15, 2009
• ISBN: 9781669843450

Peter Charles Miller Sr.

Biography: Peter C. Miller was born in Mora, Minnesota in 1967 the last of six children. He now resides in LaGrange, GA, where he lives with his wife and two children. Peter has always had an affinity for nature, history and culture. He took up the French horn as a part of his love of culture and tends his gardens daily to fulfill his desire to be with nature. Peter is often found with a history book in one hand and a trowel in the other or sitting watching the natural wonders of his own yard. Writing is a way for him to express these loves through characters that reflect his unique perspective on life. Within Peter you will find a love of learning and understanding.

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Copyright © 2009 by Peter Charles Miller, Sr.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Rev. date: 08/16/2022

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Contents

Part One

Chapter 1Storm and Stress

Chapter 2Leaving Home

Chapter 3The Imperial City

Chapter 4The Elder

Chapter 5On Our Way

Chapter 6That Foul Smell

Chapter 7Who are You?

Chapter 8Up Above and Through

Chapter 9Night Fires and Early Calls

Chapter 10Alone and in Trouble

Chapter 11A New Friend

Chapter 12Mesnar

Chapter 13The Acceptance

Part Two: The Guardian

Chapter 14Assessing the Situation

Chapter 15Following the Enemy

Chapter 16Quick, quick, away . . .

Chapter 17The Imperial City

Chapter 18The Gathering

Chapter 19At the North Gate

Chapter 20The Holy City

Chapter 21Battle of the Fire Würm

Chapter 22Burying the Dead

Part One

Chapter 1

Storm and Stress

T he tempest had passed. The rumbles of thunder were fading, and the flashes of lightning were moving away as Yvayn, son of Myllyof, son of Myrmydon, sat on the rocky edge of an ancient water-worn shoreline. He looked up to see the sun glowing in a rich amber hue as it set under the towering clouds. He had been watching the tide in its relentless march up the shore toward his perch as it has moved for thousands of years. The white foam climbed ever closer toward him, hardly stopping before another wave crashed again. More rumbling came and went as the winds brought a cool breeze off the water.

His thoughts were heavy. He had reached the age of eighteen when every Menian man must make the ceremonial Anointment journey.

Yvayn had heard rumors that he was to go to Semia, in the North, to see its capital city, Rylltòl. He was to meet the Semian emperor, Parnuhl. He was also to visit the colossal tomb of Thaliese, the warrior king who ruled over both Menia and Semia: a feat no one else has dared to try again. However, Yvayn was in no hurry to leave home.

He has heard his father tell of his Anointment journey many times. Myllyof delighted in telling the story, especially the part about almost being lost at sea during a huge storm. He admitted to his son that he thought they were all going to die when the winds blew them near the sharp rocks off the coast southwest of Careath. One time in the telling he also admitted that he did not want to go at first but went because his father made him. He would conclude that no real journey was ever done without some danger and told Yvayn that the fear of death was what kept them working hard to pull the ship to safety. From that time on Myllyof always preferred the land to the sea when it came to travel, even if a ship was faster.

Yvayn took after his father in looks with his dark skin, dark hair, and dark blue eyes. He was well built and stood about two and a half cubits high, not quite as tall as his father. The young prince was clean-shaven, unlike his father, and he preferred his hair short, also unlike Myllyof. Yvayn had prominent facial features including a large broad nose and high cheeks.

Because Yvayn was an only child and the heir to the Menian throne, he led a secluded life. There was an older sister, Sauph, but she died in childhood before he was even born. The young prince lived in a vast bluish gray castle, the only home he knew. To occupy his time, he often wandered the long castle halls or walked along the coast on which the castle was built. His grandfather, Myrmydon The Tall (as he was known), built the castle many years ago as a fortress to protect the lands between Careath, the Imperial City and Ver Nooy, the Holy City.

Careath and Ver Nooy were the two largest cities within the midlands of the Menian Empire. The plain between them was vulnerable to sea attacks; thus, the castle was a necessary part of the landscape. It was not built for looks but for strength. It was built on the ruins of an older fortress of the clan Tared. When Myrmydon died, the castle was named in honor of him, as was the region of Ethor, now known as Myrmydar.

The castle building itself was rather drab. Its high walls were thick at their bass. The bluish gray granite stones used to build the castle were quarried from the Leptonis Mountains and hauled to the site by oxcart. The stones were said to be the hardest available for castle building, however Yvayn thought they looked gray and boring. Attached to the outside stones were huge, think sheets of bronze to defend the castle against catapult attacks.

Yvayn was raised under the watchful eyes of Mia, his mother, as his father was often gone on long journeys or living in Careath conducting business of the empire. Mia raised Yvayn and Termâs and educated the young prince and his guardian in affairs of state and taught them to read and write. She made one room of the castle into a library and worked hard filling it with books for the boys to read and study. She brought in books from all ends of the empire and even had some Semian and Narcothian books added to the collection.

The young men also learned how to survive in the wild from Mia. Yvayn never gave it much thought though, as his princely life provided all his needs. But he still learned how to find wild honey, nuts, berries, roots, and fresh water. He was also taught some of the Narcoth language and some Semian. Often Mia spent time making them speak three languages at once with different questions in all three to be answered in yet another language.

Up to this point Yvayn was leading a very secluded life in the castle. His friends and family were all he knew and that was fine with him. He was reluctant to leave the safety of the castle and journey anywhere, let alone to the far off northern woods of Semia. He heard stories about Semia, and they were none too pleasing to such an impressionable mind as his. He heard about wild bears and other creatures that lurked in the woods. As he sat on the rocky shore his brown tunic became wet, he began to feel alone and depressed.

I will miss the sea, he thought to himself. There is no sea up in the North. That was what he thought from his limited perspective. What could life be like without the sea? He stood up and stretched. The breeze was blowing his hair around and making him shiver. A mist rose out of the sea forming a gray fog in the fields. He liked the way the fog hovered above the grass as it slowly moved inland. He liked being out near the water. He often could see dolphins swimming just off shore playing in the waves and watching him as he ran up and down the shoreline following them.

Yvayn! A clear voice came from far above. You need to come inside before you catch a death of cold. It was Mia calling from the gate. He turned and waved to her and began to climb up the rocks to the grassy field that led to the castle. He stopped a few times to look into the tide pools to see what was in them. He stepped and leapt over the rocks until he reached the grass that blanketed the ground in a green sheen up to the castle. When he reached the grass, he turned one more time to look at the sea. He ran his hands over the sweet scented grass that grew along the path. The grass bent gently over trying to cover lower shrubs with tall spikes that were full of seeds. The grass waved in gentle motion as the wind blew over it. The breeze blew back his hair sending another shiver over his body.

It will be here when you get back, she called to him. Now get inside before your father hears about this.

It was said that behind every great man there was an even greater woman, and that was certainly true in this family. Yvayn’s mother, Mia, was not a Menian; she came from the land of Mesnar (on the coast northeast of Menia). Mia was a beautiful, tall, dark-haired Narcoth: the people indigenous to the northeastern coast. Not all Narcoth women are so tall and this was one of the things Myllyof found so attractive about her. He also found her dark eyes and long hair attractive and mysterious. She and the Emperor met when he went to Mesnar to end a feud between two families in the small town of Shyr. The fighting was over the throne of Mesnar. The solution was that all of Mesnar would be a gift to Mia. This made Mesnar a royal protectorate; therefore, a king was not needed. Mia was taken aback, for she had a strong personality and did not appreciate being treated as property. Myllyof worked hard to win her heart and in the end she fell in love with him because of his kind heart.

Yvayn walked slowly up the path and smiled at his mother. She put a wool cloak around him and led him inside. She was dressed in her evening clothes that consisted of a long white cotton dress covered by a thick tan cotton coat. On her feet she still had on her formal leather sandals lined with pearls. The straps of her sandals ran in a crisscross pattern up to her knees. On her legs she wore white silk and cotton hose made by the finest weaver in Menia. She always thought that a proper lady should adorn her legs in silk to catch the glimmer of sunlight upon them. Being from Mesnar, Mia was accustomed to wearing leggings most of the time except on the hottest days of the Menian summer. The silk weaver she employed from Ver Nooy knew a secret craft of making the legs so that they did not have a seam running up the back. For the Queen he wove special ones that include a longer top portion so as to cover her chest and shoulders. She liked this in the cooler months of autumn and through the winter. On special occasions, she even wore outfits made to cover her arms and hands as well. The weaver also made Myllyof’s clothes, including his finest shirts, tunics and dress hose. In her hair she was wearing a chain of pearls woven into her long dark braids. She was also wearing intricately carved gold bracelets on both forearms and her gold wedding band on her left hand. Her cheeks were flushed from the cool air, but her eyes sparkled in the torch light of the hallway. Late summer was beginning to give way to the early days of autumn.

You can be so foolish sometimes. It’s a wonder you haven’t fallen into the sea after one of those storms, she scolded her son.

I was fine . . . anyway, the storm was over.

Oh, and that is supposed to make it better?

Yes . . .

Yvayn . . . you have not seen one of those storms carry off a friend, yet.

You worry too much.

No, I love you and I do not want to see you get hurt doing something that you ought to know better than to have done. Plus . . . I told you to read your history book for Velsusi.

Yvayn looked a little ashamed and held his mother tightly. I love you too, and I did read some of it. I was bored so I decided to take a walk.

You will have plenty of walking ahead of you when it comes time for you to go.

Oh, I wish you hadn’t reminded me of that. I just got that out of my mind.

You must understand that it is what you must do. I will miss you, as will all of us here. You know it is your time to go. Your grandfather would be ashamed to hear you say such things. She turned to look him in the face.

He noticed tears welling up in her eyes. Are you . . . ?

Please, she interrupted, It is very difficult for me to accept that you are grown up. Now don’t make it harder by acting stupid during these last hours. As your mother, I have every reason to cry.

They hugged tightly. After a few moments, they turned silently and walked through the courtyard to the main hall of the castle.

There was no particular name for the main hall but it served as living quarters for the royalty and was also the location of several guest rooms. The entrance led directly into a large gathering hall where four large wooden tables ran the length of the room. The tables were cut from maple and covered in carvings that depict scenes from Menian history. At the back of the room there was another table that was smaller than the others. It was even more intricately carved. At the center of this table was a large chair in which the king or emperor sat at mealtime. The chair was cut from an olive tree that grew in the region of Lodor in Southern Menia. The carvings were also of Menian history and Yvayn’s favorite was located on the back of that chair. It depicted the confrontation of king Minoi of the ancient Menians and the great dragon, Clathcak. Although he was killed in the battle, Menians venerated Minoi as a fearless leader during the epic Wars against Raka.

The top of the hall was high like a cathedral and was held up by large stone columns. Painted on the wooden ceiling were patterns that curl around in wide spirals. The great hall is Yvayn’s favorite room in the whole castle.

Mother and son walked to a tall door on the right side of the hall. It opened into a long hallway. Mia took a candle from one of the tables as she walked by and held it in front of her. It lit their way down the hall that led eventually to a staircase that ran up to the bedrooms and the library. Silently they climbed the stairs to the second floor. At the end of another long hallway there was a large oak door held in place by three big bronze hinges. The doorway was an arch and measured some four cubits high at the center. On the other side of the door was the library. The two walked slowly knowing that this would be their last lesson for a long time.

Yvayn opened the creaky door for his mother and they stepped into the large room. Stonewalls were carefully lined with old maple bookshelves which were filled beyond full with old books and scrolls from new to very ancient. One shelf, on the south side of the room, was different: it was neat; carefully organized by size and subject without a book out of place. A chair faced a window with a panoramic view of the rocky coast. Mia used to hold Yvayn in her lap when he was a baby and sit for hours in that old chair. The sun had now set so she lit the lamp with the candle she had taken from the gathering room. She pointed with her finger and ran it down these books looking for a particular cover.

I have been saving this story for the right moment.

She directed her son to sit in the chair and when he sat down, she gave him the book. It looked ordinary to him, but it was obviously special to her.

This is the story of a young man who found a friend while on a journey. It is called ‘The Tale of Meru’.

He looked surprised because he was half expecting another history lesson. Are you sure you have the right book?

Yes, Yvayn, I am. I am not as boring as you would like to think I am.

He opened the book and began to read while she turned toward the door. She was going to leave when he looked up at her. I would like it very much if you would read to me.

She stopped and tears began to stream down her face. She gently wiped them with her scarf. I would be glad to read it to you.

Mia walked back toward him and took the book from his hands. He got up to give her his chair and got himself one from another table. He sat down next to his mother and she began the story that she had so much enjoyed when she was his age. When she was done the young prince kissed her on the cheek and went to his room for the night. At first he could not sleep rolling about nervously, but he eventually succumbed to slumber. Mia, however, remained in the library late into the evening.

His mind wandered, as he seemed to float above the ground. Suddenly he came crashing down, but he awoke before he hit the ground.

This is really strange. He sat up thinking about the dream he just had. In it he was approached by a large dark figure that resembled a bear, but he was not certain. There was another figure in a dark cloak, but it too was unclear. He looked out his window and then lay back down in his bed. This was the third night in a row that he had had that same dream.

Sometime later in the morning he awoke to a warm wet feeling in his bed. Suddenly he realized what had happened.

Who did it? He was not amused pulling his covers back.

I did. There came a familiar voice from the other side of the door.

And who is this person I am going to hurt . . . as if I didn’t know?

There was silence for a moment or so, when a guilty looking Termâs came into the room. He stood by the bed with a bucket of warm water. He still had on his traveling clothes that consisted of a chain mail shirt, leather pants, long heavy boots, and a wool vest. His hair was pulled back into a ponytail and Yvayn noticed a strong smell of sweat and dirt. Termâs did not, however, have his sword with him.

I just couldn’t resist.

You do realize now I am freezing. The wet prince was shivering in his bed.

I’ll help you to your bath . . . if you would like . . . Prince Yvayn?

Termâs offered a hand. Yvayn held out his and climbed out of bed. Termâs grabbed a robe from a chair and put it around the still groggy prince.

You are always such a joker aren’t you? He began to smile. I’ve missed you these last few days.

Termâs was smiling as well. I’ve missed you too, Yvayn.

The two left the room and walked down the hall. When they got to the stairs, Yvayn slapped his guard hard on the back.

Ouch!

You haven’t seen anything yet. One day I am going to get you back for all the jokes you have pulled on me.

You always say that . . . and you never do.

The surprise will be up to me. He said this with a growing grin on his face.

Yvayn loved his father and mother a great deal. They were his only family. Except for Termâs there was no one else that he felt close to. Termâs was both friend and guardian. He was a year older than the young prince and like a brother to him. The two grew up together after Termâs’ father, Darthus, who was one of Myllyof’s commanders in the clan Tared, died. The young guard was still just a child when Myllyof and Mia took him into their care. Termâs was a strong and intelligent Menian. He stood just over two and a half cubits tall, had dark hair, dark eyes, and dark skin, and prided himself as being the prince’s personal guard. He too had strong facial features, but he also bode a prominent scar on his chin from a play fight Yvayn and he had as children. Because of this, he grew a dark beard to try to hide it.

The two friends continue their walk to the bathhouse laughing and punching at each other. The bathhouse was connected to the main hall by means of a covered walkway. Ancient rose bushes line both sides of the path from the main hall. Mia had them planted to help beautify the drab complex. They were brought to the castle from her home in Mesnar.

The bathhouse was not very big but it was warm and comfortable. Inside the building, steam rose and was mixed with the smell of fragrant eucalyptus branches. In the center of the building was a large pool of water fed by warm springs that welled up from the rocks below. The area around the pool was tiled in black and white marble with a bench that lined the walls of the entire room. Windows opened out at even intervals—six per wall. The glass panes remain coated in steam even in the hot Menian summers.

Well, what are you waiting for? Termâs asked with a smirk.

Nothing . . .

Well then, get in the water.

Okay, okay, I’m going. At least let me get undressed.

Sometimes, Yvayn, I think you like to be dirty.

Oh shut up. At that he got undressed, grabbed Termâs by the arm, and pulled him into the water with a big splash. The two sprang back to the surface immediately.

You . . . you big idiot. Don’t you know how hard it is to keep mail from rusting? He looked disgusted.

Oh, you can’t take a joke?

Termâs climbed out of the water and stripped off his clothes. He jumped back in and the two over-grown children played tag in the pool for a while. When they were thoroughly winded, they went and sat at the edge of the pool.

How are you doing? The young guardian asked.

There was a pause. Yvayn sat for a moment listening to the water flow down the rocks. I am nervous.

There is nothing to be nervous about . . . and happy birthday.

"Thanks for reminding me.

Yvayn, you must understand that as long as I am with you, nothing is going to happen to you.

I know, but even you cannot be with me all the time.

Maybe not, but I can certainly try. I have sworn an oath to Aurum to protect you from any harm, and I plan to keep that oath until the day I die.

Termâs . . . why do I have to grow up? I liked it better when we could just play and run around. We used to be able to get into such trouble, but now it all seems different.

It is different, but we can still get into trouble.

"Yes, I suppose we can.

How is your mother? I didn’t see her when I arrived this morning.

She is fine, but like me, she is sad.

She isn’t sad, Yvayn. She is proud.

There was silence between them as the young prince thought about that. He never really thought about it like that.

Why don’t you want to go and get out of this place?

The young prince gathered up his inner thoughts with a deep breath. This is my home, this castle, the rocks on the shore, my room, even this bathhouse. I just don’t see why it is necessary for me to leave it.

The journey?

Yvayn thought again. Yes . . . the journey. I keep getting reminded of it every time you’re here or my father is home. You know he was almost killed on his. What if . . . He stopped.

What could happen? We’re going away to Rylltòl, one of the safest cities in the whole world. It’s never been attacked. You’re going to meet their king and emperor, Parnuhl. You’ll meet lots of girls too. Termâs gave Yvayn a wry smile.

We could die on the way.

Worry wart.

My castle is fine to look at.

Boring . . ." He rolled his eyes.

Someone could attack tomorrow.

Again . . . worry wart.

What if he’s mean?

So what if he is?

Girls? He got really red-faced. I don’t get to see many girls here and that is a point.

Finally I get through to you!

Funny, but seriously, what if I meet a girl? My mom will want to meet her and my father . . . he’ll probably have her arrested for just looking at me.

You worry more about nothing than anyone I know.

"I can’t help it.

Now I know why your father chose this journey.

Why?

He’s afraid of the sea . . . you should see him near a boat. Yvayn looked confused.

So Myrmidon did what he felt was best for him and made him face his greatest fear . . . water.

Oh? And me?

Your greatest fear seems to be anything outside of these walls.

The young prince’s jaw dropped. Not true!

Yes, it is. You break a sweat whenever we walk out the front door.

You lie.

No, I’m serious. Remember when you and I played tag last summer and I ran away up the path?

No . . .

You froze like a dead bird after getting hit with a rock. You just stood there looking at me like a scared cat.

Not true, I was probably thinking.

Right! He said sarcastically. Like how you turned around so I wouldn’t notice?

Fine, I’ll prove it then.

Let’s go then. The young guard had a gleam in his eyes.

I think we should be getting dressed for breakfast.

See . . . you changed the topic.

The two got out of the pool and dried off with their towels. They put on cotton robes, and Termâs gathered up his wet clothes. The two friends walked back to the prince’s room and got out some clothes to wear.

I think you should wear your white silk tunic and blue hose. You know, the ones that your mother gave you. After all, this is a special occasion.

Don’t keep reminding me.

They continued to get dressed. Termâs put on his purple tunic and black hose. He also put on his broad sword and the black walking boots that he had cleaned the day before. He could hide several assorted weapons in those boots. He tossed his mail shirt into a bucket of oil that was on the floor. Yvayn put on his clothes plus his sword and dark blue leather shoes. There was no need for him to wear boots today.

You look like a prince.

I still feel nervous.

I will be there for you. You can lean on me if it will make you feel any better.

Yvayn leaned hard on Termâs. You know . . . I feel better already.

Funny!

They both examined their clothes in a long mirror and felt satisfied. Termâs let the prince go first as they walked down to the gathering room for breakfast.

Mia was at the head of the table giving orders to the attendants. Her voice was strong and full of authority. She was champion of such affairs, being able to give orders to the servants and to greet Yvayn and Termâs as they entered the hall.

Good morning, Yvayn, she said without looking, and how are you and Termâs this morning? Her gaze was still on the long table and her hands were giving direction to three different servants.

I am fine, Yvayn said as he walked over to her and kissed her cheek. She tilted her head and still did not look at him as he kissed her.

And you, Termâs? She looked at him. How is my favorite warrior today?

I am fine, my lady. He bowed and took her right hand and kissed the royal ring on her finger. She smiled at him and then looked at Yvayn. It was then that he saw the tear in her eye.

We must all sit together, she ordered them and pointed to the two seats on either side of the table. Yvayn and Termâs took their places without question.

The breakfast discussion focused on the impending journey to Rylltòl. As the talking went on, Yvayn nodded politely in agreement and looked at his guard for comfort. The young guard just smiled back and kept up the conversation.

After eating, the two young men headed to the front door of the castle. Termâs stepped out with his sword in hand. Yvayn followed with his out as well. They took a few steps up the pat and stopped.

Well? the guard asked. How do you feel now?

Yvayn looked at him. Okay, I guess.

As I see it, if we do our sword practice out here, you’ll be too distracted to notice where you are.

With a finger of his right hand, the young prince adjusted his collar nervously. A little sweat was dripping on his forehead.

Now attack me. The young guard held up his sword.

The jittery prince held up his and gave a half-hearted blow that Termâs easily blocked.

That stunk like an old shoe. Now come on!

The prince tried again and Termâs batted the nervous prince’s sword down and gave him a swift kick in the rear end.

That’s not fair!

Baby! He laughed and flung the sword back at Yvayn. This time the prince mustered up some anger and went at his guard.

They sparred several times before Termâs cornered Yvayn up the path.

You see. He pointed to the path. You’re not dead yet.

At that Yvayn gained some confidence and used some moves he learned from watching his father spar with his guard Jullious. He soon had Termâs