The Guardians of Berothai

The bloody-faced knight returned the child to his mother and watched the Guardians approach. He breathed a sigh of relief. At least for a little while, he thought, the child and his mother would be safe.

And so he prepared for their greeting - somewhat alarmed yet joyful.

Jthan raised his right hand when they stood face to face and began to speak. But he was quickly interrupted.

"We know who you are, Jthan," a tall dark-haired Guardian said, "and you also, Lady Déorah! And this (he now knelt down on one knee), this, must be KBehrszhen. Hail to you young Prince! I am Destar. We have been waiting for you."

At his word the small band of Guardians bowed . . . except for one who stood behind his fellow Guardians. (Jthan would remember.) Then Destar wrapped Déorah and the child in blankets and without another second to waste led them deeper into the forest.

Déorah seemed surprised when she finally spoke. "How could you be expecting us?" she asked. "We decided to come this way only a little while ago."

"When kingdoms fall into the wrong hands, word spreads fast through the ancient forest. Our young scouts were sent to look for you since we heard your King had ordered Jthan to bring you to Berothai. But there's no time to talk now. Come into the stronghold, not too far from here, and we'll tell you the whole story."

Jthan, still cautious, with his hand on the small of her back, followed the Guardians into the stronghold-a high-walled fortress inside thick stone walls. The Guardians had long protected the Land of Berothai. He was pleased to see at least twenty strong men, well armed and vigilant, standing upon the walls, looking mostly off to the east.

Eventually, they entered a large warm room, lit by torches and a fire inside a large stone hearth, which easily held out the coldness of night. Déorah and KBehrszhen were surrounded by several women clucking and cooing over them and Jthan knew they were going to be well cared for. Someone offered him a warm drink and he drained it quickly. Destar grabbed him by the arm and walked with him to an antechamber. The door was closed behind them.

"Greetings, Jthan!" someone said. The young knight turned to see an old, white-haired man in a long gray robe. With his arms clasped behind him, the old man looked at Jthan with a strange expression on his face - worry, fear?

"Greetings, sir," Jthan returned, for he did not know the man's name.

"I am Rothsweld, and I serve as ... well ... as the advisor to the Guardians. We are very glad to see you've made it safely this far."

Jthan was hesitant, and moved his hand unconsciously to the hilt of his sword. "I'm glad to be here. But please sir, tell me, I sense some dread and danger in your greeting. Are we not safe here? Are the Lady and child not safe here?" He moved his hand again.

Rothsweld did not miss the movement and said, "Do not fear, do not fear, they are safe ... for now ... and certainly there is no safer place for them. You do well to keep your guard up, but please believe me, the Guardians of Berothai are loyal to Queen Déorah."

Jthan relaxed a little, and Rothsweld continued, "Since you left King Trondar in the Caves of Adoran, there have been new developments. Malthax is hunting for him!"

Jthan tensed. "Malthax," he whispered. "Ruler of Swansill? The one who has taken Trondar's throne? We were ill-prepared for such an assault--most unexpected. He paused here,deep in thought, then . . . "Does Malthax know where the King is?" he asked.

"Not yet, not as far as we know," the old man replied. "But Trondar surely knows it is only a matter of time. He must fight to regain his kingdom!"

Jthan cheered immediately. "Yes, and I am sure he has a plan? Nothing less is expected of him. Do you know of this plan?"

Rothsweld nodded, "Only this, that he will need the help of his brother Trondak."

"Trondak! He won't help! He's been at enmity with his brother for decades. And King Trondar would sooner die than ask his brother for help!"

"Nevertheless, it is so. Perhaps the King now sees that it is not just his own life at stake, but that of his Queen and his heir also."

"No, this cannot be?" Jthan clenched his teeth but thought better of it and finally said, "Very well, then, I must go to my King."

"Yes, you must help him. But not in the manner you think," Rothsweld replied. "You will go to Trondak. Convince him that he should help his brother."

"I? How could I possibly persuade Trondak to surrender his grudge? He hardly knows of me." Jthan shook his head. "I don't even know the cause for the bad blood between them."

"Even so, you shall go at once and give this to Trondak as a token of the King's good will and urgent need." Rothsweld reached into his robe and pulled out a large golden medallion, holding it out for Jthan to see.

Jthan recognized it immediately. It was the medallion of the King, the insignia of his realm-solid gold, the size of a man's palm. It was the one true treasure of the kingdom. On one side, Jthan knew was the King's sign, a cross in a circle, like the one branded into Jthan's arm. The other side showed only a fire, the symbol for their God.

The knight looked at Rothsweld in amazement, then at Destar, who stood silently, watching and listening.

"This would mean the King is offering his kingdom to his brother."

There was a long silence as Jthan watched Rothsweld's eyes, but the old man was too hard to read.

It was enough, however. If his King had left such a command with the Guardians of Berothai, he would obey.

"I must say goodbye to Déorah ... the Queen, before ..."

"She's asleep, exhausted!" a young woman said, striding in forcefully from the side door. She glared at Jthan and there was no mistaking her tone. "What took you so long to get here?"

Jthan stared back at her. She was tall for a woman, slender, with dark reddish hair and strangely, dressed like the warriors he had seen on the wall, though with a shorter sword at her belt. But he didn't answer her, partly because she annoyed him, and partly because he felt the shame of his delayed arrival.

"Bajahn!" Destar addressed her. His tone was also clear. "Calm down!"

She began to speak again, then stopped, looked away a moment, and turning to Rothsweld, said in a quieter tone, "The Queen and her son sleep. The nurse attends them and will feed the child well when he wakens."

"Good," Rothsweld said. "Let them rest." Then he turned his attention once again to Jthan. "You must leave as quickly as possible. One of our fine warriors will accompany you, for two can help each other on this journey."

Jthan looked to Destar, sizing him up. He was taller than the knight, strong and apparently very able for the task at hand. Rothsweld saw his glance and interrupted.

"No, no, it is Bajahn who will go with you."

Jthan spun towards the woman in surprise, but before he could speak, Rothsweld added, "She is one of the finest guides through the forests of Berothai and you must travel that path to reach Trondak quickly."

Twice Jthan opened his mouth to speak, but again held his tongue. Clearly the woman knew of their mission, for she showed no surprise. It also seemed clear she wasn't happy about it.

Jthan turned to Rothsweld. "Who will guard the Queen, for I have sworn to see she is safe."

Destar spoke. "She will be my personal charge. I will not leave her side for a moment once we are ready to leave."

"Leave? But where are you going? She can't go anywhere! She's the Queen! And there's the child."

"We haven't a choice. She has always known what to do for such a time as this. Déorah will go to the land of her birth and gather warriors to fight for the King. The child will be safe here. "

"But they will not fight for the King. They were overthrown and conquered by us. They have not sworn their loyalty to him! There's little doubt they would fight against him given the chance."

"Then she must persuade them! Only she can. The King needs them." Destar spoke without fear and with unmistakable purpose. Jthan calmed. He did know how persuasive Déorah could be.

"Come now, there is no time for talk," Rothsweld said, as he hurried Jthan out the door. Bajahn and Destar followed till they arrived at the stalls where Bajahn acquired two horses.

Servants loaded saddlebags of supplies on both. On one horse, a full quiver of long arrows. Bajahn draped a thin oak bow over her shoulder and mounted her horse.

Then, surprisingly, a large shaggy dog trotted up and stood by the other horse, the one intended for Jthan.

"And what is this? We can't take a dog along on this journey."

"That is Bread, and the horse is Butter," Bajahn explained. "We can't separate them, so we stopped trying. Actually Bread seems to be the leader of the pair, and tells Butter what to do."

Jthan sniffed at the nonsense, but turned away. Bread stared at him intently, watching him sit uncomfortably in a new saddle. The dog turned to the mare and barked once. Butter nodded once back. Jthan was startled at the exchange, and took offense at Bajahn's weak attempt to hide a grin.

"Here is the King's token. Guard it well," Rothsweld said. "Bring the King's brother into the woods on the south side of the city of Anton at the next new moon - four weeks hence."

Jthan's eyes widened. That gave them little time. Bajahn would have to be a very skillful guide indeed to get them to Trondak and back to Anton in a month. He slipped the medallion into the small leather pouch in which lay another token - one from Déorah herself.

"Bajahn will tell you what else you need to know--what little else we know," Rothsweld said.

The knight turned to Destar. "Guard the Lady well!"

"Fear not. And God speed!" Destar replied.

Jthan nodded to Rothsweld one last time and then gestured to Bajahn that he was ready. She kicked her horse and swiftly rode out the gates, past several sentries and finally towards the outer wall of the fortress.

Jthan spurred his own horse, which followed easily, with the dog close behind. He tried to take Destar's words to heart, but he worried about Déorah, and wondered how he could possible persuade Trondak to help his brother.

But now he was through the fortress wall, and the iron gate shut forcefully behind them. He held his thoughts at bay, grabbed the reins tightly and rode into the night, into the dark.

(written by Bob Leger. Published with permission from Bob Leger)

Read other chapters

Chapter 1: A Light In The Forest
Chapter 2: Knights, Queens and Coffee
Chapter 3: The Bell In The Rocks

Chapter 5: Intimus Sanctum