Redeemer: The Conclave, Book 1

By Michael Weems

An Epic Fantasy Adventure

Zaki Galan is one of the Barren, so named because their people have not produced a Gifted in over a century. However, on the Calling Day in the desert city of Garu, the impossible happens. The Artifact of the Hall of Inquiry suddenly comes to life and Zaki is somehow able to break through a secret barrier designed to keep his people from the Gift. Now the kingdom is in upheaval as its social structure evolves around the Gift and a member of its lowest caste has regained the power. But can he survive to keep it? For there are many who would see Zaki dead before they allow the Barren to rise again.

Meanwhile in the northern wildlands, Emlyn has discovered the tomb of the Rebel King. The girl who slipped beneath the mountain rises as someone, and something, new. Emlyn learned terrible secrets beneath the mountain, including the designs and crimes of King Balkus and the Conclave. The divided northern tribes must rise and defend themselves before it is too late.

Zaki and Emlyn now threaten the king's plans to create his great empire. And so they must be stopped. But they may prove more formidable than any can imagine.

This exciting fantasy adventure includes far-away places, political intrigue, friendship, and lots of magic. While there is a bit of fighting and violence, the story does not include cusswords or adult themes/content. It's a fun adventure for all readers.

Author: Michael Weems is the author of The Ghosts of Varner Creek, Border Crossings, When Emily Went Missing, and Redeemer. When Emily Went Missing received a starred review from Kirkus Reviews and was picked as one of their Best Books of 2021.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Michael Weems
• Release date: Jan 1, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215388853

Michael Weems

Author: Michael Weems is the author of The Ghosts of Varner Creek, Border Crossings, When Emily Went Missing, and Redeemer. When Emily Went Missing received a starred review from Kirkus Reviews and was picked as one of their Best Books of 2021.

Book preview

In a cave deep in the desert a madman sat before a chalk outline of a circle and spoke an incantation as he threw the bones. They clattered across the lithified stone before coming to rest. The madman studied the gathering with interest, shadow and flame dancing across the walls as a warm little fire crackled.

From a small clay bowl, he slurped a potent fermented drink made from the prickly pear cacti that grew in such abundance in his desert home. The bird and mongoose bones were for divining near events, but the human vertebrae were where matters of great import might be found.

Not that he truly cared much. He had left the worries of the civilized world behind long ago. Still, it was within the vertebrae this evening that the madman felt something was amiss.

Hmm, he mused, pointing to a couple that had bounced outside the circle and now sat adrift in shadow. Happy, do you see that? he asked a pile of bones stacked neatly in the corner of his cave. A grinning skull looked back at him, its cheeks and teeth stained red.

Happy was a jolly fellow. He’d already been there when the madman found the cave. They got along well and, unlike living people, Happy always had a smile on his face. And it was nice to have someone to talk to now and then. They’ve run off, haven’t they? He said, gesturing to the two wayward bones. Then he looked over the remaining ones in the circle, And these others look out of sorts.

He gathered up the bones and as he reached for the waywards he added with a smile, Come now, my little tattlers. Have you a story to tell? He spoke his spell and dropped them all back down in the circle, but again two of the vertebrae bounced out and away into shadow.

The madman’s eyes went wide in surprise. He grabbed his drink and gave his skeleton companion a smile, They did it again, Hap! Did you see? They’re quite the troublemakers, I think. He leered into the shadow to get a better look at them.

As his eyes fell upon them, he noticed the two vertebrae had come to rest together. Oh, what’s this? Look here, Hap! See what they’re off doing over here?

The skull’s grin reflected its shared interest.

The madman tossed his drink back, draining it all in a gulp. Then he scurried on all fours like a spider around the two bones, peering at each one, examining their position. Oh, my, he said, aren’t you two interesting? He judged the distance from the two bones to the center of the circle. In the space between were several of the other bones. That’s quite the journey, he mused. I wonder what’s afoot?

The madman suddenly had the notion his companion might be holding out on him, and he looked over to him with eyebrows raised. Happy . . . do you know anything about this?

The skull remained silent.

You do, don’t you? He scrambled over to the skull and peered into its eyes, Come now, what are they, Happy, these two here? he waggled his fingers towards the two bones. You can tell me.

The skull remained silent.

The madman cocked his head in curiosity. Are they many or few? Is it war, an alliance, enemies, conspirators? Maybe they’re two love birds. Is that it, Happy, are these two off having a secret romance? The madman laughed at the prospect.

Still, he heard nothing.

And why should they be so important to appear in our bones, eh? And why out here in the shadows? Oh, something’s cooking, isn’t it, Hap? Fate has a kettle on the fire and time, she is warming it up, soon to whistle. He rhymed himself a little diddy,

Time will spin

And time will win

For it knows what ends

Before it begins

And then it begins again

Hee, hee, he laughed. The cook knows what’s for dessert before the rest even get their appetizer. Ain’t that the way, Hap? But you know something, don’t ya? You’re back there in the kitchen with the cook, now ain’t ya? Ha ha!

He stared at the skull, and it stared back at him.

Come now, Hap, you can tell your old friend me, now can’t ya? He had to say me because he could no longer remember his name. He had one once, though. He figured it must not have been very good if he couldn’t remember it anymore.

He focused his eyes and brought his hands together. A glow appeared around him, "De morte loqui, said the madman. The hairs on his arms and at the back of his neck arose. His eyes darted about. He felt a chill in the air. Hap, you here?"

The fire flickered wildly, and a faint voice was heard echoing within the skull, like the sound of air mimicking the ocean in a seashell, except this whisper of wind carried a voice, and it spoke, "Yesss."

The madman smiled in glee. I knew it! I knew you were about. And got some secrets to share, I bet. Come now, Happy, tell your old friend what’s cookin’.

He fetched his little clay bowl and poured a bit of the pungent alcohol in it. Then he pulled a knife from his things and gave his finger a good poke. Blood appeared and ran down his finger, which the madman used to stir the alcohol in the bowl. It began to turn a reddish hue. Ah, here now, look what I got for you, Hap. This’ll loosen up your tongue. Then he added with a maniacal laugh, If ’n you still had one!

He thought the skull looked unamused.

Oh, just kidding, Hap, just kidding. Just ‘cause you’re dead don’t mean you can’t have a sense of humor anymore. Here you go, now. The madman tilted the bloody confection down upon the skull, staining bone and teeth anew.

"De morte loqui, he spoke again, de morte loqui, Hap." Then he waited, eyes eager and round with a smile on his face. It was always a bit exciting when Hap had something to say.

He watched the fire carefully, but it did not stir. He was beginning to wonder if his mischievous companion had only appeared to tease him with knowledge unspoken. Now that would be a poor trick. The madman’s eyes peered into the black shadows of the skull. Hap?

The fire winked out and a gust of icy wind swirled in the darkness followed by a whispering, gravelly voice.

In Angor sits a thief

With crown upon his head.

The bones herald reckoning

Seeded by the dead.

For the two who lay in shadow

Left power in their wake

It reaches for new life

To balance out cruel fate

Named will be the Redeemer

When stone and chain do break.

And by fruit of tree in darkness

The old king shall awake

The voice faded away as did the icy chill in the air, leaving the madman alone with his new riddle. He waved his hand and the little fire jumped back to life, spreading cheery light over the bloody skull.

He poured himself another drink and saluted the messenger of the dead. Thank you, Hap. My compliments to the chef.

He sipped and pondered. Well, now, let’s think on it.

The madman pulled a bit of mashed cactus pulp from a jar and began chewing on it in contemplation. Happy liked his riddles. So did the madman. It was one of the reasons they got along so well.

Well, the first part’s easy, ain’t it? A thief with a crown in Angor . . . it can only be that ole fart Balkus. Creator knows how much he’s stolen over the years. Sounds like maybe he took something he shouldn’t have, eh? And the madman laughed. "Thieves and thieves everywhere, Hap. And the two who lay in shadow, that’ll be our lovely little troublemakers, now won’t it? I’m thinking maybe the old fart took something of theirs. Or maybe he took someone, eh? We can’t forget about that cult of his, now, can we? No, we musn’t forget them. They’re crazier than we are, Hap!

Hmm, it might be someone’s descendants. Or maybe our troublemakers left some Artifacts. Now that could be it. Something that reaches for new life, an Artifact could do it."

He smiled to the skull. I’m getting warm, aren’t I, Hap? He continued his ruminations. That last part, though . . . Redeemer. There’s a fancy title. Stone and chain. Maybe it’s a prisoner or some such. And fruit of a tree in darkness . . . that is an odd one. What sort of fruit would that be? It probably wouldn’t taste very good. Or maybe you was just being symbolic. Is that it, Hap? You old Riddler, you. Has being dead made you a philosopher? And he laughed happily. And then that last bit about waking the old king. Who could that be? Nobody coming to mind. He paused in thought, then stuck the finger he’d poked in his mouth, Hmm.

He pulled his finger out with a Pop! It’s a good one, Hap. That it is. I think I figured some of it, but I’ll have to sleep on the rest.

The madman gathered his bones and put them away in an old leather pouch. Then he lay down upon his bedding and waved his hand, Out you go, fire. Time for sleepy. The fire obeyed and the cave fell again into darkness.

As the light faded away a patient and deadly serpent outside slithered forth, but as it crossed into the cavern a spell activated and a small bolt of lightning struck it dead. Its flesh sizzled as its body convulsed.

The madman cackled in glee but didn’t bother getting up. Sounds like we won’t need to go hunting for breakfast tomorrow, Hap! Ain’t it nice when it comes to us? And he laughed some more.

PART 1: New Life

Chapter 1 – Zaki

The Burrows / City of Garu

Hold still, said Zaki’s mother as she mended the yellow strip on his robe from where some thread had come loose.

You know it’s just going to get ruined, he told her. I don’t know why we get all dressed up for this. He could already imagine rotten food splattered all over his nice clothes. And that was if he was lucky. It may end up stained in his own blood depending on how things went. He could get injured at the Inquiry or smacked by a rock afterward. Either way there was a good chance he’d end up bleeding today.

We must still make a good impression, she reminded him.

Why do they make us do this? he asked again for about the third time. We all know none of us have it.

It’s the law. You know this.

But they’re going to make fun of us and throw things, he said. He didn’t mind failing so much. The Barren always failed, but the jeers and hatred that would come afterward frightened him more than the test itself.

Maybe not, she suggested. He just rolled his eyes at her. She was a terrible liar, his mother.

Even if he wasn’t headed to the Inquiry, he still hated going outside the Burrows into the great city of Garu where all the Uppers were cruel and unkind. It had to be done when he assisted his mother in her cleaning and laundry business, but today would be much worse.

This day their destination was the city center, to the Hall of Inquiry, where all children were required to appear during their fourteenth year on the Calling Day. That would mean walking through the market while dressed up. The Uppers always seemed to hate it when the Barren wore their colorful garbs on Calling Day.

They will. They hate us, he said.

Shush now, she told him. We pay our cost until the debt is paid. And one day it shall be. That was what all the Barren told themselves, but Zaki didn’t believe it. It’d been over a century now, and still the Barren hadn’t produced a single Gifted in all those years. They were outcasts, unloved even by the Creator.

Adira will be there as well, his mother reminded him. You only need to be brave for a short time. After the Inquiry you can have as many sweet treats as you want. You’ll like that, won’t you?

I guess so, he admitted. But then when we go outside, they’ll be waiting. When the Barren failed yet again, the punishers would be waiting outside ready to boo them and throw trash, fruit, and various rotten things at them. That’s what they called themselves, the punishers, those Upper citizens of Garu who had taken it upon themselves to show up on Calling Day to add insult to injury on the Barren each and every year they tested with no Gifted.

Vendors would even start to save a bit of their spoiled fruits leading up to the Calling Day so they could sell them for the pelting near the side door of the Hall. And the city guard would do nothing about it, of course. It had become an annual tradition.

She tsked, Don’t worry about it. What’s a bit of old food tossed around, eh? We’ve endured far worse.

He tried to think of the pastries and treats. It was said that after the effects of the noctin potion began to wear off, the candidates would need lots of sugar. So the Conclave purchased treats from the best bakeries in the city and they would be all spread out on a table in the recovery rooms. And the candidates were allowed to eat as much as they wanted!

Zaki planned on stuffing his face with cookies, brownies, and lemon cake. He’d never had lemon cake before, but he’d heard about it. You have to try it, said one of the older boys from the year before, it’s so good. I’d do the test again just to have some more. Zaki and the others doubted very much the boy actually would.

Back when his father was still with them, he used to occasionally bring home sticky buns with sweet bean inside. Those were a favored rare treat, but apparently lemon cake was better.

He wished his father was with him today. He assumed he was dead but didn’t know for sure. One night he went out to meet friends and just never came home. For a time Zaki had wondered if his father had left the kingdom. Some of the things he said sometimes made Zaki think it was a possibility, but his mother was adamant such was not the case. Your father would never leave us, Zaki. Not ever, she told him.

Then where is he? he had asked.

I don’t know. The hard truth is we may never know. But your father loved you and would never leave you.

He didn’t know which was worse – the idea that his father had abandoned them to flee into the wilds beyond the kingdom, or the thought his father had been killed. He knew his father had sometimes said things he shouldn’t. Like when one day Zaki found a silver coin lying in the street. He snatched it up and showed his father, Look! It’s a whole silver. It was just lying here in the street.

His father had told him that finding even such little things was a reminder the Creator was still with him, one of the Barren though he was. He has not truly forsaken us, his father said. That is just something the Uppers tell us to keep us in our place.

Zaki had been very young when he realized his people were treated differently than all the other people of the city. One morning, as he had trailed along behind his mother, an Upper woman and a child his age passed him in the street. Hi, Zaki had said to the other little boy with a warm smile.

Hi, said the other. He seemed a little surprised by Zaki’s warm greeting, but he smiled back anyway.

But his mother quickly scolded her child, Don’t speak to that boy. Can’t you see he’s a Barren!? And he should know better than to speak to you unless you have spoken to him first. She glared at Zaki’s mother who kept her eyes down as she ushered Zaki quickly away.

Later, he had asked his father, Da, why do they call us Barren? And why are they so mean to us?

His father thought about how to answer. "Our people once had another name, the Huruk. We lived on these lands many centuries before the kingdom came. In fact, the city is built upon what was once a Huruk city, although we didn’t have the great buildings they do today.

Long ago there had been a fight over the land, and the Huruk lost. We had Gifted of our own back then, but the Conclave came in greater numbers and wielding spells our people had never seen.

Thereafter, the Uppers came, more and more of them, and built this city. That is how we became part of the Balkan Kingdom. Our people were then confined here, to the Burrows, where we carved out homes into the side of the great hill.

After long years we were granted citizenship and became part of the city, too, but never really one of them. While we are technically permitted to move about the kingdom and even live elsewhere, none ever do because nowhere except here in Garu will they tolerate our presence. And as you know, even here, we have always been considered lesser, always left with the worst of jobs and paid unfairly less for our labors."

Why don’t we just leave? asked Zaki.

His father sighed. Because, son, this is our home. This is our land. And where would we go? The kingdom stretches far to all nearby land. The few Barren who have tried traveling found that anywhere else in the kingdom they couldn’t find work or a place to live. The only other alternative is to go live in the wild lands.

Then why don’t we do that? Zaki had asked. Go the wild lands.

His father had seemed to think on it. Maybe one day. But they are called the wild lands for a reason. They are very dangerous. The wilds are full of beasts which hunt men. And there are other things in the world, Zaki, creatures with their own sort of magic.

I thought only humans could be Gifted, he replied.

That is what we are all told, but there are legends of mysterious creatures who have Gifted properties.

So that’s why we stay? he asked. Because it’s so scary in the wilds?

In part. I believe we could make it out there, though. If only we still had our own Gifted . . . his thoughts seem to drift away. Ah, but we don’t. So we stay.

What happened to our Gifted people? How did it go away?

His father’s face became serious, then, even angry, That is the great question of our people, Zaki. We do not know for sure. But once, long ago when we did still have a number of Gifted among us, our people did try to rise up. Our land had been taken from us. We had been forced to live in the hillsides, pushed away from our own ancestral history. We organized and, behind a powerful Gifted named Suleman, the Huruk tried to overthrow the kingdom and retake our home.

Zaki was confused. Overthrow the kingdom? But the King is the prophet of the Creator, right? And the Conclave . . .

His father interrupted, The Huruk did not believe the King to be the prophet of the Creator.

Zaki was shocked. To even think such a thing was a sin, but to speak anything of such heresy was a crime. Da . . ., he started to say, but his father waved him off.

The concept that the king is favored by the Creator is a kingdom concept spread through its religion to solidify their power, said his father. Other kingdoms have their own beliefs which do not include our king as the favored representative of the Creator.

Atine! His mother had snapped when she heard him speaking of such things. She had been engrossed in scrubbing a stain out of someone’s tablecloth but dropped it when she realized the topic of conversation occurring nearby. Be silent. What are you doing?

Our son has a right to know these things, his father had said.

You’ll get yourself judged by saying such things, Atine. If anyone were to overhear you . . ., her face was livid in anger, one of the few times he’d ever seen his mother so mad. She turned to Zaki, It is forbidden to speak of the name Huruk. That name has been banished. We are the Barren now. And as for the other things your father has said this night – forget them. Never repeat what you just heard. You would be punished severely if anyone outside this room heard such things.

She stood and pointed a finger at her husband, And you! You will never say such things to our son again. What if he was to tell someone else, one of his little friends, what you just said, huh? What do you think would happen?

Most would agree with me, said his father defiantly.

Do you think that would stop them from turning you in for treason for a few golds? she asked.

His father sighed in defeat. Some would, it’s true. Not all. But some.

Some is more than enough. Let us never speak of such things again, she told him.

Yes, love, he agreed. But several months later he left one night and never returned. Did he say something too loudly that night? Did one of his friends turn him in? What happened to you, Da?

Zaki was snapped out of the memories of his father by his mother roughly turning him around in one final appraisal. There. You look very handsome. Look here. She walked him before the mirror glass they had found one day at the dump, and he appraised himself. He was a skinny boy with thick, unkempt black hair, dark skinned like his parents. He had a wide nose, like his mother, but a strong jaw like his father. He seemed a perfect amalgamation of the two and he quite liked that about himself. It was oddly comforting to look into a mirror and see both his parents looking back at him through his features.

He looked down at his nubby fingers. His mother had insisted on cutting his fingernails as short as possible for Calling Day, a common precaution. She’d gone so far as to try to file them down even more. His fingertips were raw, but he figured he’d probably be thankful later.

His clothes were decent, far better than his daily brown trousers and tan tunic which hid the myriad of stains acquired through daily labors. His mother was always on the lookout for brightly colored clothes that might fit him when she was working or they went hunting for any valuables at the dump, and she was an expert at cleaning and restoring old fabric, tips picked up through experience as a laundrywoman to the Uppers.

Today Zaki wore a crisp lime green tunic over baggy green shorts with a yellow sash as a belt. The tunic and shorts had yellow trim his mother had sown on the baggy shorts which she was now mending.

I look like a sour fruit, he mulled aloud, although secretly he quite liked the outfit.

You look handsome is how you look, she replied with a smile.

There was a banging on the door. Zaki’s mother got up to answer, finding Elder Abasi in his usual foul mood. Your boy ready?

Good morning, Elder, she said as though he had bothered greeting her first. Yes, he’s just ready.

Good, then come along. We can’t be late. He waved his arm dismissively behind him at a group of gathered children and parents following in his wake, Some of this lot don’t seem to understand the importance of arriving early to the Inquiry. On time is already late for our folk and you’re never too young to learn it.

Zaki noted there were a few other Elders from the council with them. They wouldn’t be permitted to enter the Hall, but it was tradition they would join the procession, ever vigilant for the faint possibility today might be the day their punishment ended.

But it was Elder Abasi who was in charge of The Gathering for the Barren. He held the registry of each person living in the Burrows. He knew all the children’s names that were due for the Inquiry each year as no one was permitted to live there without ensuring their compliance with the registry. It was the only way to make sure nobody tried to slip past the Inquiry.

It was somewhat common among the Uppers each year that there were a few runaways on Calling Day. The families were heavily fined and lost honor when one of their children tried to evade the duty. However, it was far more serious for the Barren given the lack of Gifted for all these years.

Aside from the punishment levied by the kingdom, if anyone in the Burrows failed to attend, they would likely be stripped of anything of worth they owned by the elders. Every one of the Barren knew how important it was that every child be tested. They could never risk missing a Gifted among their own if one ever arose again. For only by producing a Gifted would they finally show that they had been forgiven by the Creator.

Come, come, boy, said Abasi, grabbing Zaki roughly by the shoulder and herding him into the little group.

Don’t be so rough with the boy, Abasi, said Elder Sadiki, a short woman with spiky gray hair. She smiled kindly at the boy.

We can’t be late, he replied gruffly.

We have plenty of time, said Elder Asim, a tall, bald man with a neatly trimmed beard who seemed at ease despite the tension and importance of the day.

Zaki’s mother had disappeared quickly back inside. Oh, what now? griped Elder Abasi. Eman, what are you doing? We must be away, he chided. She reappeared a moment later holding a little bundle of cloth tightly in her hands. Ah, he said knowingly, alright, then.

So tight did she hold the small bundle that her knuckles made little popping noises. It did not go unnoticed by Zaki. He wasn’t sure specifically what was in the bundle his mother carried, but he smelled the scent of alcohol and imagined there were likely bandages and sewing things for stitching hiding inside the cloth wrapping. The thought sent a shudder down his spine.

It’s just in case, his mother told him as though she already guessed his thoughts. You’ll be fine.

I know, he replied. Although he didn’t know it at all. But he would be brave and strong today. The Barren may continuously come up lacking in the Gift, but they always showed great courage during the Inquiry. They did not cry or try to run away like some of the Uppers. They stood resolved and, year after year, accepted their defeat with as much dignity as they could muster. Perseverance is silent victory, his father once explained, as long as you draw breath, you are never defeated unless you have given up on yourself.

Let’s go, said Elder Abasi. We don’t have all day and we have others yet to seek.

As Zaki and his mother fell in