Ascendants of Ancients Sovereign

CHAPTER 23

Duke Barthom Brandor





BJ TOOK SAM TO a quiet clearing that was surrounded by trees to train with Kael. They were at the base of the Mountains of Latasef which towered over the town of Mountain View. As a young fighter, BJ had trained in this same clearing, but on this particular Peak, Kael, Sam’s blade, would be Sam’s instructor.

“Pay attention, Sam!” Kael snapped, his blade pulsating with a brighter intensity. “I have taught you the command, val arna, which allows me to guide your movements. It is the basis for every other command to be built upon. The next word you will learn is nuar. What I want you to do is hold me in front of your mouth, and speak all these words at once. You must use a strong voice. This is necessary to release the power within the words.”

Sam thought he understood and lifted Kael into the air. “Val arna, nuar!” he shouted. The blade burst into flames, and Sam immediately dropped the weapon to the ground.

“What are you doing?” Kael chastised as the ground caught fire. The blade went cold and BJ stomped out the flames. “Why would you drop me?”

Sam was speechless.

“I said, why would you drop me?”

“I didn’t want to get burned,” Sam reasoned. “I’m sorry.”

The blade grumbled. “You would not have been burned. It’s your command. You’re protected from anything you tell me to do.”

“Okay, okay. Relax.” Sam grabbed the sides of his head. “So ... I’m protected. You act like I should know this already.”

Kael snapped. “Of course, you should! You’ve commanded my flame on a million occasions.”

Bewildered, Sam looked at BJ, and then he reached down to pick up the blade. “What do you mean, Kael? How could I have possibly commanded your flame on a million occasions?”

Kael went silent for a long series of moments. Only a slight hum emanated from the blade as the group waited for the god-sword to respond.

“Well?” Sam urged. “Are you going to answer me, or not?”

The blade’s response was harsh. “I meant nothing! Continue your training, and don’t drop me again, or I won’t let you train with me!”

Sam desperately wanted to ask another question, but he figured it was best not to push. “I said I was sorry.” The fighter paused. “You know what? I’m the master here, not you. I’m not sorry at all. From now on, you’ll do exactly what I tell you. I’m sick of being pushed around. And I’m sick of your attitude. Just because you’re a sword doesn’t mean you have to be a prick.”

The sword went silent, and even the blade’s hum could not be heard.

Sam refused to speak first.

Eventually, the blade broke the silence. “Perhaps you’re on your way to becoming a leader after all, Sam. I will mind my place.”

“Good!” Sam jeered. “Finally, a moment where I get some respect!”

Again the sword paused before it spoke. When it did, its pulse was a soft glow. “Please ... try again, and speak the words of power.”

Sam stared at the blade, conflicted. On one hand he wanted to continue to berate the sword, and on the other, he wanted to continue his training.

It did not take long before BJ snapped. “Enough of my moments have been wasted! I’m tired of waiting. Just say the damn words, son!”

Sam lowered the weapon. “Can’t a guy think around here?”

“Shut up and say the words!” BJ commanded. “You can think during your own moments!”

Sam frowned, lifted Kael high above his head and shouted, “Val arna, nuar!”

The blade ignited.

As Sam moved Kael around, he admired the trail of fire that was being left behind by the weapon’s wake. He touched the blade to his skin. In spite of the sword’s explanation, he was surprised the blade felt cold. He extended it toward BJ. “Can you feel anything?”

“Of course, I can, bonehead. Kael told you how his power works. Have you become dense?”

Kael laughed at Sam’s expense, but when Sam’s hand tightened around his handle, the blade stopped laughing and then pushed forward with the lesson. “Now that you’ve commanded the power of fire, and it is active, you can build upon it. Imagine you’re in battle, and the enemy is lining up in front of you, and you need to bring them down quickly. You can extend my blade without changing my weight or balance.”

The skin between Sam’s eyes wrinkled. “How is that possible?”

BJ was the one to respond as he shook his head. “Because of magic, bonehead.”

When Sam did not respond, the blade spoke with caution. “May I continue, Sam?”

The fighter shrugged. “Just proceed.”

“Once my blade has been extended, you may swing at will and not worry about your allies. This power inside the words will allow me to kill your enemies and pass through your allies without harming them. Lift me up and say the word, nug.”

“Hold up a moment,” Sam responded. “So after I say this word, if there’s an enemy on the far side of BJ, I can kill him without killing BJ?”

“That’s right, and it doesn’t matter if it’s an enemy beyond BJ or not. If you consider BJ an ally, then I’ll pass through him during any moment. Sam, you may not realize this, but we are connected spirit to spirit. I shall always know what your heart desires.”

“No way!” Sam’s smile widened. “This has to be the coolest thing I’ve ever heard. Okay, okay. So how do you pronounce that word again?” Once Sam understood, he lifted the sword and released the power inside the word.

Kael extended another three paces.

Again, Sam swung the sword around. It felt as if nothing changed. Even when he brought the sword to his side, the blade adjusted without hitting the ground, then re-extended as he brought it up. Sam spun around and around, and after a bit, he caught BJ off guard and passed the blade through the trainer’s mid-section.

“Watch it, bonehead!” BJ shouted. “Just because you know it won’t hurt me, doesn’t mean I want the power tested on me! I should troblet your sorry backside!”

Sam smiled and then lowered Kael to his side. “Only if you could, old man.” The fighter moved to stand beside his trainer. “Don’t be mad. You know I love you.”

BJ grumbled and moved away.

“So what’s next?” Sam inquired, looking down at Kael.

Kael’s magic subsided. “I can see you like this form of training. Let’s try a new command. The word for ice is kelek. I want you to do the same as before, but instead of commanding fire, I want you to command the word for this new element.”

Sam lifted the blade. “Val arna, kelek nug!” Kael once again extended, and an ice-cold flame appeared around his blade.

“This is cool ... no pun intended,” Sam exclaimed. “But why would I need both fire and ice? Why not stick with one?”

Kael grumbled. “Sam, for such a smart man, you ask the dumbest questions. Do you think you would fight a fire-breathing dragon with its own element?”

Sam shrugged. “Okay, okay. I see your point. So are you telling me that there are dragons on this world?”

“The dragons live on Dragonia,” Kael replied. “You won’t need to worry about them, but other enemies are also immune to certain elements. You may find yourself in a battle where you’ll need to use a specific element to strike down your foe.”

“Okay, okay. So ... if I’m fighting a beast of this nature, it’s probably going to have magic of its own, right? How do I fight against that?”

Kael’s blade pulsated. “Finally, an intelligent question. At any point you feel the need for protection, you can use the word vaur and the name of what you need to be protected from. For example, you could say vaur nem. This will protect you from an enemy that uses water as a weapon. If you need to protect those around you from this same foe, you can use the words vaura nem, which will extend the area of protection to 15 paces around you.”

Sam thought a moment. “Let me get this straight. Let’s say I’m fighting one of these fire-breathing dragons. I would say Val arna, nug kelek to bring forth the icy flame on your blade, and then I would follow this up with Vaur nuar to protect me from its breath of fire. Is this what you’re saying?”

Kael confirmed.

BJ patted Sam on the shoulder, “Way to go, bonehead.” The training continued.

Meanwhile

The Town of Mountain View

As the two women were browsing through the local school of magic, Helga explained that Shalee would need to keep useful substances on her person. “To command advanced magic, Child, you’ll need more than just your staff. I find that this is one of the Peaks that many of my students enjoy most.” The older woman lifted her hand and gave Shalee a high-five. “I love to shop, Child.”



After the exchange, Shalee snapped her fingers. “You can say that again.”

Before Helga could say anything else, Shalee sauntered across the room and looked at a display of belts that hung on a wall painted blue-green. The shelves above the belts were white and a number of jars had been placed on top of them. Like Helga’s store, the jars were labeled.

After choosing a wide, black belt, Shalee commanded Precious to change its appearance. A light erupted from the leather as the transformation began. When the light faded, something far more fashionable and useful was left behind. The pouches that hung from the belt were now gone and a number of new, smaller pockets lined its length. The silver and onyx buckle that was once in the shape of a basic hoop now looked like a dragonfly. Its body was black and its wings were silver and possessed intricate detail.

“I think I might be able to wear this now,” Shalee said as she waved her arm and snapped her fingers. She pulled the belt off the hook and strapped it around her waist. “I wasn’t about to wear that hideous thing the way it was. It didn’t have any pizazz. Can you believe that?”

“Everything is fashion with you, Child,” Helga chortled while she shook her head. “Pay attention. We need to choose ingredients for those pockets so that Precious can create the effect you desire. It’s like cooking. When you bake, you need more than leaven.”

Shalee nodded impatiently. “Yeah, I know. So what are you getting at?”

“Well ... your staff is able to summon fire, lightning and wind as you know, but beyond that, the staff can only alter or manipulate what exists around it.”

“What do you mean by that?”

Helga took a few moments to think. This was critical for Shalee to understand. “You told me that you fixed Sam’s pants.”

“Yeah, and?”

“And the staff would not have been able to mend them if it was not for the material that was already present. The same was true for Sam’s skin when you toughened it before his fight with the Minotaur. The staff did not need to search for skin because it was already there.”

The older sorceress counted the number of pockets on Shalee’s new belt. There were two rows of 13, and the pockets were small. “Twenty-six, Child. We’ll need to choose wisely and prepare an arsenal of commands that will use the ingredients available to you.”

Shalee shook her head. “No we won’t.”

“How so, Child? I’ve been doing this for many seasons, and I think I know what I’m doing.”

Shalee grinned. “Don’t you remember? You taught me that Precious can read my mind. All I need to do is command the staff to create and let it look into my mind for the desired outcome.”

Helga moved to the far side of the room. She flopped down on a bench and thought a moment. “You have a point for smaller commands, but I can only assume that it would require a significant use of power for larger effects. I have spent my whole life speaking the words for each ingredient. What you’re describing is possible, but I doubt you possess the strength to successfully complete a command of this nature.”

Shalee shrugged. “We’ll never know unless I try.”

“Perhaps we should fill the pouches first, Child.”

The older sorceress stood from the bench and walked across the room toward another wall that was covered with shelves holding jars of ingredients. She reached out and plucked a jar from one of them. “You will need to make sure you refill your belt as your pockets empty. The staff will only need to draw from a small amount, no matter how large the effect, but eventually you’ll run out.”

Once again, Shalee grinned. “For goodness’ sake, Helga, why would I do that when all I need to do is tell Precious to multiply what’s already there? Once we have the supplies, I’ll never need to go to another store to buy them again.”

Helga was floored. “I can’t believe I’ve lived this many seasons and never tried that. I’ve always waited till I ran out. Poison can be costly, Child.”

Shalee laughed. “You watch me whip up something. I’m sure it’ll work.” The younger sorceress went over to the store owner who was standing behind a lengthy counter and asked the lady to bring her a vial of poison.

The woman did as requested and produced a tiny, glass cylinder filled with a green gel.

Shalee asked for a bowl.

The lady returned with one and sat it in front of her.

Shalee poured a drop of the gel into the bowl, lifted Precious and spoke a command.

The poison bubbled as it multiplied upon itself. A fume filled the room causing all three women to cover their noses. When the smell subsided and the light from the spell faded, the bowl was full.

The shop owner stood in silence as Helga snatched the vial of poison from Shalee’s hand and put some in a cup that sat nearby. She lifted her staff and, with a forceful voice, spoke her command. The reaction of the spell was instantaneous, but it was not what Helga was after. The older sorceress flew backward across the room and landed on her butt.

Shalee panicked. “Lord almighty, Helga, are you okay?”

Helga scowled. “Help me up! I’m fine! My pride is my only wound.”

Shalee did as she was told, then turned away to hide her smile. After she collected herself, she turned back around to brush off Helga’s backside. “I suppose there is a bright side to your failure.”

“And what would that be?” Helga snapped.

“At least now you know now that you didn’t waste all your coin on ingredients over all your seasons. Isn’t that a purdy little thought?”

Shalee picked up Helga’s staff as the older sorceress grumbled. After handing it to her, Shalee looked at the lady behind the counter. “Why don’t you give it a try?”

The older woman lifted her hands and shook her head. “My staff is best left under the counter, dear.”

The women enjoyed choosing 26 ingredients. Shalee had everything she needed: a vial of water, poison, sand, cloth, steel that had been ground to a fine powder, straw, sulfur, four different types of dragon scales, and various other creatures’ body parts. She had a vial of explosive powder and three types of oil—one used only for cooking.

By the moment they were finished, Shalee had multiplied the woman’s inventory and did not have to pay for any of it. It was a successful day of shopping. The duo was ecstatic as they headed out of town to try a few new commands.





Later that Night

South of City View





Mieonus arrived behind a tavern that was a fair trek south of City View. The cliffs nearby had been the point of entry for the army of Brandor 75 seasons ago when they attacked the Barbarian Kingdom. On that Peak, neither the city nor the tavern existed.





Now, fellow soul ... allow me to give you a bit of Southern Grayham history. Seven hundred thirty-two seasons ago, the King of Brandor, Jahronus Brandor, sailed his fleet up to the base of the cliffs southeast of the city of City View to unload 200 of his finest soldiers.

To invade the Barbarian Kingdom, these men first had to scale the rocky walls of the cliffs and carry with them long, heavy, thick ropes. Once at the top, the signal was given and the King of Brandor’s plan was under way.

It was the king’s objective to secure iron chains to the top of the cliffs so that wooden planks could be attached to the chains. This would enable the rest of his 10,000 men to ascend these makeshift ladders without casualty.

To accomplish this task, the army used a special catapult that had been attached between two of the king’s largest ships. The catapult was used to throw a massive, iron ball to the top of the cliffs.

With the ball safely on the ground at the top, the 200 men who had ascended wove their ropes together to keep them from snapping apart. With this accomplished, they wrapped this larger rope around the backside of a number of trees to serve as a series of pulleys. The men secured one end of the rope to the ball and then dropped the other to the ships below.

Large, iron chains were secured to the opposing end, then the ball was pushed over the side of the cliff to lift the chains skyward.

Due to the depth of the ocean, the army had to devise a way to sever the rope before the iron ball pulled the chains up, around the trees and then back into the ocean. To do this, they created a series of bladed harpoons. The men fired over 40 shots in the direction of this reinforced rope. Once severed, it was the job of the 200 men at the top of the cliffs to ensure the chains did not fall in the opposite direction.

These men threw their weight on the chains and drove iron bars between the links. The operation would have failed except for the cuts the chains made into the trees. The cuts stopped the progression of the chains long enough for the men to secure it. The army began their ascent, and their invasion of the Kingdom of Bloodvain was underway, but not in the way it was originally planned. But that is a whole other story that I shall have to tell you some Peak.

Anyway, much later, a tavern was built on top of the cliffs, and because of Brandor’s invasion, the tavern was given the name—The Iron Chains.





Mieonus had been assigned the task of initiating the assassination of the King of Brandor’s son, Aaron Brandor, and the General Absolute, Justin Graywind. The goddess knew there was a relentless killer named Dawson Drake inside the tavern. Double D was known for skillfully killing his victims, and he was considered the deadliest assassin on Grayham.

Double D had not used his real name since the age of 14 seasons. His father, a drunken piece of garesh, beat his mother on a regular basis. She loved Double D with all her heart, but she could not defend herself against her husband’s abuse.

After another long night of relentless beating, Double D leaned over and picked his mother off the floor after his father left, slamming the door behind him. Half unconscious, Marlena blurted out in a blood-spurting, raspy voice, “I would give my last Helmep if someone would kill that husband of mine.”

Being a good son, Double D attended to her wounds. After ensuring she was asleep, he took her last two Helmep from her secret stash as payment and went out into the darkness. He left with murder on his mind, stalking his father from the shadows cast by the torches of the city as his father was returning from another night of heavy drinking.

Double D followed, keeping to the shadows as if they were his new friend. The situation was perfect for his first killing. The torches leading away from the city gates of West Utopia were becoming few and far between, and as luck would have it, he and his father were the only ones around.

The child assassin crept up on the much bigger man, matching his father’s footsteps to ensure he did not cause alarm within the drunkard’s mind.

Double D lunged forward and buried serpentine daggers into each of his father’s kidneys. Double D stood over his victim. With his father looking up at him and bleeding out, the boy smiled as the brute took his last breath.

To the child’s surprise, he enjoyed the kill. He savored the idea that his father knew it was his own son who had ended his life. That night was the beginning of Double D’s merciless career.

As a man, the assassin was a hard person to find, and the only way to get in touch with him was through a man called Assistant Kane. Double D did not accept any job for less than 25 Yaloom, the highest denomination on the worlds.

Mieonus suspected that Double D would not be agreeable to the task she intended to propose. She decided not to approach as a goddess, but rather, she would walk in as Assistant Kane. She needed a way to deal with the irritation of the assassin if he became angry. Mieonus moved her arms in front of her face and emerged as a tall, thin, handsome man with long, black hair, wearing brown, leather pants and a black shirt.

The goddess walked into the tavern and headed for a spot at the bar next to Double D. As she took a seat, she spoke in a whisper. “We need to talk. I see you’re still associating with barbarians. How do you avoid being killed?”

The assassin was a shorter man with an athletic build. His hair was long, and he always dressed in black from head to toe. He was not ugly, but he was not considered handsome. His eyes were brown, and his wavy-brown hair fell across his brow as he looked down at his ale.

Double D sneered, “I thought I told you to never meet with me in person, Kane.”

“I know, but there are extenuating circumstances,” the impersonator replied.

“I don’t care about the circumstances. You know how I work, and this isn’t the Peak that I’ll make an exception.”

Kane stood from the bar. “Too bad. The job would have paid 100 Yaloom. You could’ve retired. I’ll see if Tiara wants it.”

The goddess left the bar and started to walk down the trail that led into town. The next thing she knew, she was lying flat on her back with a dagger at her throat.

Double D hissed. “Move and I’ll cut you through, Kane. What could be so important that it would pay 100 Yaloom?”

“Someone wants the Prince of Brandor and the General Absolute slaughtered. Let me up. It’s uncomfortable to talk with a blade at my neck. This is not how I intended to do business, so perhaps we could discuss this professionally.”

The assassin yanked Kane to his feet. “That kind of job is suicide!”

Kane dusted off his backside and shrugged. “Fine. I’ll tell them you said it can’t be done. I’m sure they’ll find someone to take the risk for that kind of coin.”

“I never said it couldn’t be done. I said it was suicide ... suicide for any man but me. But I won’t do it for that price. It’ll take twice that.”

The goddess laughed and turned to walk away. “I’ll tell them you said that, too, but don’t expect me to return with an answer.”

“Kane!” Double D shouted, “One hundred and fifty!” The assassin watched as the assistant kept walking. “One hundred and twenty five! That’s my final offer! Don’t push me, Kane!”

“Deal! You know where to pick up your coin when the job is done.”

“I need supplies, and I’ll need an advance.”

Kane turned and threw a bag filled with coins and watched the assassin catch it.

“I see you came prepared,” Double D smirked. “Pretty sure of yourself, weren’t you?”

“I’m a businessman. Did you expect less?” With that, Kane walked down the path and out of sight.

17 Peaks of Bailem Have Passed

Since Kepler and George Parted

George walked up the stairs of the landing tower with Athena. Amar was waiting for him at the top. The moments George had spent with Athena over the last 17 Peaks were wonderful, and he was certain that he wanted this woman in his life—forever.



The previous evening, George explained that he had to travel to Siren’s Song to meet with the wisp. The fact that he was being forthcoming with Athena surprised him. He desperately wanted to avoid lying to her.

Though his moments with Athena had been short, his love for her had blossomed. Athena deserved the truth, and she got it. She did not question why. Instead, she smiled and instructed George to be careful. All she asked was when she would see him again.

George told the truth, saying he did not know, but he would try to get back to her as soon as he could. He wanted her to believe in him so badly that he gave her his Rolex over dinner and asked if she would consider moving to wherever he settled down.

Her response was everything he wanted to hear, saying it would be okay as long as she could visit her family now and then.

Their last night together had been passionate after retiring to Athena’s mother’s guest house. Their relationship had been consummated.

George greeted Amar, then turned to kiss his beautiful Athena. “Tell Mother I said goodbye.”

Athena liked how George had taken her family in as his own. “I’m sure she’ll ask many questions when I get to work. I’ve never taken this many Peaks off in my life. My sister is expecting all the details. I’m so excited. I don’t have to embellish and make them up.”

Athena moved in close and put her head on George’s chest. “I love you, George.”

This was the first occasion in which he had heard those words uttered from Athena’s mouth. He looked into her eyes and responded, “I love you, too.” For once in his life he had told a woman he loved her without it being some sort of game. His love was genuine.

Amar said goodbye to Athena once the couple’s lips parted, and he climbed onto the back of the hippogriff.

George followed. After plopping down onto the seat, a bright smile appeared on his face. His smile would not go away as the hippogriff took flight. He would gaze at his Athena until she was nothing more than a tiny speck.





The City of West Utopia





Sam had won both of his fights in the town of Mountain View, and then the group had moved on to the city of West Utopia where his opponents suffered the same fate as the others before them. Sam’s record increased to seven wins with zero losses—all of his wins ending in death.

On this Peak, Sam and Shalee decided to take the afternoon off from training. They wanted to spend some quality moments together without the crowds following them around. Sam’s fame was growing and opening doors, but their getaway was necessary to remain sane.

BJ and Helga bid their students Good Peak and took the opportunity to run off to find some quality moments of their own. Their secret relationship had blossomed since their first kiss on the bridge outside of Lethwitch. BJ was smitten with Helga, and he had been creating excuses to be alone with her. But the tactics of creating excuses were becoming tiresome, and BJ was tired of hiding his feelings from Sam and Shalee.





Now, fellow soul ... Southern Grayham was similar to Earth in yet another way. It had its own version of the Paparazzi. Instead of the constant snapping of photos, these seekers of gossip begged Sam to pose so they could illustrate his personage for their stories. These drawings were hung with accompanying articles on the information boards that could be found at the center of most populated areas. With as many moments as it took to sit for an artist, Sam and Shalee would have preferred photographers in their faces.





After the artists of West Utopia were satisfied, Sam and Shalee packed a lunch. It was just past the Peak of Bailem when they headed out of the city. As they were walking through the gates, a young child dressed in fine clothing ran up and bowed. The boy had a piece of parchment in his hand.

“May I help you, young man?” Sam asked.

“Your presence is commanded at Duke Barthom Brandor’s estate, sir.”

Sam looked at Shalee and laughed. “Well, who are we to turn down a request to meet our first Duke?”

The child looked up while standing in Sam’s imposing shadow. “This is not a request, sir. It’s an order.”

Sam’s mood changed. “And if I don’t want to come, young man?”

The child squirmed. “Sir, I beg you. If you don’t, I’ll be beaten for my incompetence.”

Shalee slid in close to Sam. “He’s just a boy. You said you wanted the fame. I suppose with it, we’ll have to put up with a few pompous jerks every now and then.”

Shalee’s accent softened Sam’s mood. The fighter turned to the boy and extended his hand. “Lead the way, buddy.”

After a big smile appeared, the child led them through the city and up a hill past a number of large estates.

The buildings reminded Shalee of the architecture of old Rome which she had studied during her travels on Earth. The scene was fascinating. It was satisfying to see this sort of architecture in a form other than ruins. It was pristine and functional.

Sam, on the other hand, was not so impressed. “You’d think the gods would have at least given the people of this world some other ideas for their structures. I know it was supposed to make our transition easier, but give me a break. It’s not unique. Everything since our arrival, though beautiful, appears to be from some period of our history.”

Shalee rolled her eyes. “For heaven’s sake, Sam, this place is delightful. Who says these ideas were ours in the first place? Maybe they were used before Earth was ever created, in some other culture, on some other world. What if the gods simply recycle their ideas over and over?”

Sam nodded. “Point made. I suppose that wouldn’t surprise me after all we’ve learned. I wonder what the other worlds look like. Bassorine did say they’re different. I wonder how much.”

As they continued to walk, more massive columns lined the road leading to the duke’s home. The detail of the sculptures chiseled into the columns made them remarkably life-like.

Bountiful grapevines stretched between the columns and were set in the stone hands of the sculptures that held their arms outstretched. Slaves lined the vines, and the fruit being plucked was succulent.

The cobblestones of the road leading to the duke’s home were perfectly placed. They sat on top of tamped rubble to allow for the drainage of storm water.

The duke’s home was enormous, making both visitors feel anxious as they entered. They were taken to a large room, and as the decorative doors opened, a group of well-dressed people, in a flowing assortment of colored cloths, greeted them.

Shalee was relieved that she had made them dress nicely for their special Peak together.

A fat, jovial man walked up and introduced himself. “Welcome! Welcome! I’m Duke Barthom Brandor. I trust you’re enjoying your stay in West Utopia.”

Sam nodded. “We are. You have a lovely city.”

Duke Brandor smiled. “Wonderful. I have heard much prior to your arrival, Sam.” Barthom looked at Shalee. “I don’t believe I know who you are, young lady.” The duke reached out, took Shalee’s hand and then kissed the top of it.

“Well aren’t you all proper-like? It’s nice to meet you, too, Duke Brandor. My name is Shalee.”

After hearing Shalee’s accent, Barthom kissed the top of her hand again. “Your speech is charming.” The duke looked at Sam. “I do believe a woman as beautiful as the one you have on your arm should be given the right to call me by name.”

Sam nodded. “I’m sure that would make things far more pleasant for the lady.”

“Then it’s settled. Shalee, you shall call me Barthom. Sam, since I have extended this courtesy to your lovely companion, I shall allow you the same privilege.”

“ Thank you, Barthom. To what do we owe the pleasure of being called to your home?”

“I watched your fights. I must say your reputation is understated. I don’t believe that I’ve ever seen such a presence in the arenas since my king’s General Absolute. I dare say you could find yourself in the arena with Graywind on one of these Peaks. This would be a fight that I dare not miss. He, like you, has killed every being who has entered the arena against him. I do hope you’re able to make it that far. I would love to watch you shove his vanity down his throat.”

The room erupted with laughter as Barthom continued. “It seems you’ve earned a room full of fans, Sam. I’m sure they’ll be following your career … as long as you live, of course.”

A maidservant approached. She was carrying a tray of cups filled with wine.

Barthom motioned for Sam to grab a drink.

Sam removed two from the tray and then handed one to Shalee before he responded. “Let’s hope I live longer than your average fighter.”

An optimistic smile appeared on Barthom’s face as he lifted his cup and tapped it against Sam’s. “Indeed. Let’s hope.”





Sam and Shalee found their Peak with the noble and his friends to be pleasant. At the end of their visit, their host sent them away with gifts. Sam received a set of the duke’s finest, handcrafted, black, leather armor. The seal of the duke’s home, a red dragon, had been crafted onto the chest piece, arm bracers, greaves and again on the back of each boot.

Shalee was given six bolts of exotic fabric of assorted colors. As they left, Shalee realized she did not have a place to put them. She had been so busy running around with Sam, staying at one inn after another, that she had not thought about getting a place of their own. She spoke with Sam about the problem as they headed back to the inn.

Helga and BJ were sitting at the bar drinking ale when the two arrived. The younger couple saw the older couple flirting with one another, but they did not say anything. They stood in the background and watched as Helga reached over to touch BJ’s arm.

BJ was about 61 seasons, and even though Helga was over 247, she did not look a Peak over 55. It was clear there was more to their relationship and neither Sam nor Shalee had noticed until now.

Sam crept up on their trainers. As BJ touched Helga’s hand, Sam cleared his throat and watched the couple jump. “Look what we have here,” Sam said in a fatherly voice. “I guess I’m going to have to start keeping an eye on you two. We leave you for the shortest series of moments and come back to find you groping one another. I’m shocked.”

“Oh, get lost, bonehead!” BJ grumbled. “We have lives, too, you know. I never thought I would look at another woman after my wife passed, but traveling with Helga has given me new perspective. There’s something here that’s good for both of us, and there’s nothing wrong with that.”

Helga was embarrassed. “Sam, please know that we still intend to provide you with the best training we can offer.”

Shalee jumped into the conversation. “Don’t be silly. I don’t think that ever crossed our minds. The idea of you two getting together is sweet, really. Sam and I were talking the other Peak about the two of you, and we both agreed that you’re like parents to us. You’re not just our trainers. You’re our friends. We love you, and we see you as family.”

Shalee’s sentiment was everything Helga wanted to hear. Her eyes grew misty. Grabbing a towelette, she dabbed the moisture from them.

BJ looked at Sam, shrugged and then rolled his eyes as guys often do during emotional moments. After the mood subsided, BJ placed his arm around Helga. “I suppose the cotlum has been let out of the bag. We can be more open with our love.”

“Love? Have you two been doing this long enough to use that word?” Sam said, ignoring the fact he had no idea what a cotlum was. “Where was I when the courting was taking place?”

BJ turned to Sam. “Since you consider me your father, the place you have been when Helga and I were courting is on top of my daughter. This incestuous relationship between the two of you must stop.” The trainer smiled as he sat back on his stool.

Helga slapped BJ on the arm. “He’s always talking that way, Child. He can be so naughty. Just last night, he said—”

Shalee covered her ears and spoke loudly over Helga’s voice. “T.M.I. T.M.I.”

Sam agreed, chuckling, “Yeah, way too much information, you two.” Sam looked at BJ. “Anyway, we received some gifts from Duke Brandor.” He pointed to the pile sitting across the room.

As soon as BJ saw the armor, he jumped from his stool and ran over to take a look. Lifting the chest piece from the floor, he held it up in front of him. The excitement could be seen on his face as he threw it over his head to try it on.

The armor was way too large for his smaller frame, but this did not curb BJ’s enthusiasm. “Sam, do you realize what this means?”

The fighter crossed the room and picked up the bracers. “It means we have met our first noble, why?”

“It means far more than that,” BJ responded. “It means the house of Brandor is watching your career. It means the king knows who you are. When something like this happens, a fighter usually receives an invitation to the battle of champions before he completes the circuit requirements.”

BJ put his hand on Sam’s shoulder. “You’ve only competed in three cities. I would wager that if you win your next few fights, you could get an invitation to the city of Champions before you complete the tour.

“Sam, all you have to do is ensure your victories are memorable. If they are, we’ll be on our way to the Senate’s tournament.

“There is far more than fighting at this tournament. Just like the king’s tournament in Brandor, the Senate’s tournament is a citywide event that lasts for 10 Peaks. Sixty-four fighters are invited, and none of the fights are meant to be to the death.

“The winners of this tournament from past seasons are given a chance to enter the king’s tournament in Brandor. The ultimate prize is to defeat the General Absolute. Many want the glory attached to this victory, but all have perished while trying to attain it. The general is merciless, and although he’s an honorable man, he believes the arena is a glorious place to pass. The leader of the king’s army steps into the arena prepared to kill and equally prepared to surrender his life.”

BJ took off the chest piece and placed it on Sam. He admired the fit as he tightened the straps beneath Sam’s arms. “The first Peak of the tournament is to celebrate the 64 fighters and the General Absolute. The next seven are filled with heroic battles. In Brandor, the field is narrowed until only one fighter remains. On the ninth Peak, this being is given the chance to face the general. To battle the general is considered the highest form of exaltation a warrior can receive. The winner is celebrated and invited to the king’s personal table. For as long as I can remember, the general has been the one celebrated, but I don’t think he cares about dining with the king any longer.”

BJ reached up, grabbed hold of his student’s head and placed his forehead to Sam’s. “Victory could be yours. If you were to beat the general … you would be one of the most powerful men in the kingdom. Only the king and his son would stand above you.”

An enormous smile appeared on Sam’s face. “I can make the impression we need to win our invitation to the city of Champions. You can mark my words on that.”

Sam turned and headed for the bar. He was about to order an ale when Shalee tapped him on the shoulder. He turned to see a look of fright in her eyes. “What’s wrong?”

Shalee put her hand on his armor-covered chest. “Didn’t you hear the part where BJ said that all of the general’s opponents have died?”

“I heard it. What’s the big deal?”

“Doggone it, Sam. I know you’re not dumb. He’s killed everyone. For heaven’s sake, don’t you think that’s a problem? I don’t want anything to happen to you. I love you, ya big ox.”

“Okay, okay. Hold on a second. You know I love you, too. But BJ also said I don’t have to fight the general if I don’t want to. So let’s not worry about it, and let’s take it one fight at a time. Sound good?”

“No, that doesn’t sound good. I don’t want you to fight him.”

“So, I won’t. Don’t worry about it.”

Sam pulled Shalee close and winked at BJ. He just wanted Shalee to relax, but he knew he would fight the general if given the chance. He had no choice. How else could he get into a position of power? Shalee would just have to understand when the moment arrived for him to make the decision.

Shalee seemed to be okay with his answer. She released Sam and then turned to Helga. “I need your help. Would make a quick detour to the city of Brandor and find a place for us to live? I’ll give you the coin for it.”

Being this close to Brandor, it would only take Helga only 4 Peaks to fly south and then find something suitable. She could find the home, and then catch another hippogriff a few Peaks later to meet up with them in Haven. BJ suggested that Helga take Shalee’s bolts of cloth and leave them in Brandor. BJ wanted to go, but he would not have the moments necessary to get back before Sam’s next fight.

Helga agreed to leave the next Peak.

Retiring for the evening, Shalee watched to see if Helga would sneak into BJ’s room. As expected, the older sorceress did just that. Shalee smiled and then shut the door to her room. She crawled into bed next to Sam. “I can see they love one another. It’s in their eyes. I think it’s cute. It’s downright adorable. Don’t you agree?”

“Yeah, sure, whatever floats your boat. Now get over here and float mine.”





The next morning, the group headed for the landing platform. While walking through the city, they noticed a heightened level of military activity. The king’s soldiers were transporting gigantic trees to the mill.

Sam stopped one of the men dressed in chain armor. The man wore a black tunic with red trim, and the king’s symbol was embroidered at its center. “What’s going on?” he questioned.

“The king has given orders to build harvest wagons. His Lordship has received word from the gods that the harvests will be bounteous. The wagons will be needed to transport the crops to the coastal cities.”

“Why are the harvests transported to the coast?” Sam inquired.

The soldier gave Sam an odd look. “Why wouldn’t they be?”

BJ waved the soldier on and then answered Sam’s question. “The harvests are shipped to Merchant Island to determine their value. Once a value is assigned, they’re distributed throughout Grayham and the other worlds. Each world has certain resources they provide to the others. They are exchanged by way of the Merchant Angels.”

Sam’s brow furrowed. It was easy to see another question was coming.

BJ took the liberty to answer without waiting for the question to be formulated. “The gods have created a group of beings whose sole purpose is to move goods between worlds. They are delivered by the Merchant Angels to each planet’s Merchant Island. After a value is established, the goods are distributed. No one has ever seen a Merchant Angel, so don’t even ask me to describe how they look. Beyond what I’ve told you, the only knowledge I possess about the exchange of goods is that there are special areas where the angels assemble on the island to take away the crates the goods have been placed inside. But this only happens at night when everyone has abandoned the island.”

BJ put his hand on Sam’s shoulder and led the group down the street. “There are moments when government officials agree to allow a member of another race to travel between worlds. It is the Merchant Angels who transport these beings. Although the gods have created special containers to transport live souls, the ride is said to be dark and miserable. When criminals are caught on Grayham, they are transported to Dragonia in this manner to face punishment. It is said ... if the dragons don’t kill them first, the other criminals who have managed to survive will. It is also said that the demons and the vampires have been known to feast on them.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Okay, okay. Now I’ve heard it all. Vampires? Really? It wasn’t long ago I would’ve said you were full of it for saying something so outlandish, but not anymore. I’m sure Stephenie Meyer would have loved Dragonia, if she was here. Vampires. Wow!”

BJ’s brow wrinkled, “Who is this Stephenie?”

“Oh, it doesn’t matter. She was just an author from my homeworld.” Sam further thought to himself. I wonder if her soul is truly inside the Book of Immortality?

It was not long before the group arrived at the base of the landing platform and began their ascent. Sam’s mind had continued to wander and was again dwelling on the thought of the Merchant Angels. “BJ, can you eat on the journey when the angels take you to the other worlds?”

“I don’t know anything more, Sam. You’ll have to study on it later when your moments allow it.”

Once at the top, they waited for BJ to lift Helga onto her hippogriff. BJ blew Helga a kiss as the beast lifted into the sky.

Soresym showed up not long after.

Shalee was standing on the platform when his majestic form settled onto the wooden planks. The wind created from the beast’s massive wings made her thankful for the railing lining the perimeter, but her thankfulness stopped at the mess the griffin made of her hair.

Shalee pulled the frazzle into a ponytail. “So much for looking cute for you, Soresym,” she joked. “How can I show you fab if you keep blowing my hair all over the place?”

The griffin enjoyed her candor. “I’m sorry, Shalee, but I don’t have an essence capable of fixing tangled messes.”

BJ covered his smile as Sam responded. “Ha, ha! Very funny. He has a chance to pee in a guy’s mouth, and the King of the Griffins considers himself a comedian. Soresym, you’re a bowl of laughter. Tell me again, why do we like each other?”

After a brief period of friendly banter, they lifted off to wing their way to the city of Haven.