David Farland - The Sum of All Men

A strange scent filled the air—smoke and ice and dust.

Raj Ahten stared hard at Gaborn, his glance askew, as if looking for something in particular.

Something odd was going on, Jureem realized. All of the Seven Standing Stones lay fallen, like half-formed men—misshapen, as if in their death throes. The scents of smoke and ice said that a battle had been fought here. Binnesman was wounded, dirt and blood on his face.

Overhead, a soft wind blew. The enormous oaks creaked in the slow wind, waving at the stars. Pale light glowed within the circle of fallen stones.

The Earth Warden stood scrutinizing Raj Ahten's men from beneath bushy brows, starlight glowing on his wispy beard. Confident. Dirty and bloodied. Still, the wizard seemed too confident. Jureem wished that his master's flameweavers were here. It had been a mistake to enter these woods without them.

Raj Ahten finally slipped from the back of his weary mount, stood holding the animal's reins. He smiled. “Prince Orden,” Raj Ahten called in his most seductive voice while his men finished circling their quarry. “Your running comes to an end. You need not fear me. You need not run any longer. Come, my friend.”

Jureem felt the overawing draw of that voice. Surely the Prince would come to the Great Light now.

But the Prince stood fast.

“Princess, you, at least, would not refuse me?” the Great One asked.

Jureem felt gratified to see Iome sway on her feet, compelled to draw closer.

“No one will come with you,” Binnesman said, stepping in front of her.

“You cannot draw near, Raj Ahten—any more than can your dogs, or your warriors.” Binnesman menacingly crushed leaves in his hand.

Dogbane. Even when it was not in the hands of an Earth Warden, dogbane was as potent at driving away dogs as Solomon's Seal was at frightening off cobras. Raj Ahten's men began backing from the statues. The dogbane would not kill them. Yet their dogs' noses feared the scent.

“Why have you come here?” Raj Ahten demanded of Binnesman. “This is none of your affair. Leave now, and no one will harm you.”

“More importantly,” Binnesman said, “why have you come here? You are a king of men. Did you hear the trees calling?”

“I heard nothing,” Raj Ahten said.

But Binnesman shook his head. “There are runes of concealment all about this place. Powerful runes. No man could have found it alone. Some greater Power drew you.” He nodded knowingly, and his tone broached no argument.

“Perhaps...I did hear a whisper, Earth Warden,” Raj Ahten said. “But it was very faint, like the voices of the dead.”

“That is good. You are strong in the earth powers, and only they can preserve us. The end of an age is upon us. If our people are to survive, we must hold council. Earth called you, Rah Ahten, just as it calls to kings you have enslaved. Can you hear it now?” Binnesman stood at ease, gazing deep into Raj Ahten's eyes.

“I feel it,” Raj Ahten said. “This place is strong in the Power that you serve.”

Binnesman leaned on his staff. The light of fireflies shone on his face, which had an odd tint, a metallic sheen. Perhaps Binnesman had once been human, but his devotion to Earth had leached him of some of that humanity. Jureem realized that the wizard was perhaps as alien to mankind as any Frowth or ferrin.

“And what of you?” Binnesman asked. “Could you serve this Power? Could you serve something greater than yourself?”

“Why should I?” Raj Ahten asked. “My flameweavers ask me time and again to give myself into greater service to their Fires. But why should I? The Powers do not serve man.”

Binnesman cocked his head, as if listening deeply to Raj Ahten's words. “But they do—oft times, when our purposes agree. And they serve in return those who serve them.”

“Grudgingly they return service, when they serve at all.”

Binnesman nodded. “I am troubled by your lack of faith.”

Raj Ahten responded, “As I am troubled by your abundance of faith.”

Binnesman raised a bushy brow. “I never sought to trouble you. If I have offended, I beg forgiveness.”

Raj Ahten cocked his head to the side, studied young Gaborn. “Tell me, Earth Warden, what spell is this, that I cannot see the Prince, but instead see rocks or trees when I look at him? Such a spell would serve me well.”

Jureem wondered at such a strange question, for the Prince seemed...visible enough to him. He wore no mask or cloak.

“It is a small thing, this spell,” Binnesman answered. “But you asked another question of me but a moment ago. You asked why I had led you here. And I confess that I did lead you. Now I have something I want of you.”

“What do you want?” Raj Ahten asked.

Binnesman said, waving to the stones that lay about, “These are the Seven Standing Stones of the Dunnwood. Doubtless you know of them. Perhaps you even know what a dire portent it is that they have fallen.” He spoke sadly, as if he felt great loss.

“I see them,” Raj Ahten said. “In your tongue they are the obalin. In mine they are called the Coar Tangyasi—the Stones of Vigilance, or so the old scrolls name them. It is said that the duskins fashioned the watchers to protect mankind.”

“That is right,” Binnesman said. “So you are familiar with the old scrolls. Then you know that the duskins were great wizards. Beside such, my power is nothing. Theirs were the powers of deep earth—of the shaping of things, of preservation. Mine is the power of the shallow earth—of the use of herbs and growing things.

“Long ago, the reaver mages made war on the Underworld, slaughtering the duskins. The duskins could not adequately defend themselves. In time they knew they would be destroyed, and that the reavers would also seek to destroy mankind. So they sought to protect us, give us time to grow. They raised the obalin of the Dunnwood, channeled life into them.

“In time, they were called the Seven Standing Stones. With eyes of stone they have watched the deep places of the world for us.

“Often have the obalin whispered to our kings, warning of the presence of reavers. But the obalin's voices can only be heard by those attuned to the Earth. Thus, among men, those most sensitive to earth powers have been chosen as kings.

“Surely, you, Raj Ahten, have felt urges that warned you to send your warriors to battle the reavers. You have been adept at thwarting them. Until now! Now the childhood of mankind is past. The reaver mages of the Underworld are free!”

Raj Ahten stood thoughtfully through Binnesman's lesson. “I've fought reavers well enough in the past. But I fear that you put too much trust in your stones. The duskins never imagined the Runelords, nor guessed the power we would wield. It does not matter that a stone has fallen in the Dunnwood, any more than it matters that a leaf has fallen.”

Binnesman said, “Do not speak lightly of them. The obalin were more than mere stone, more by far.” He looked down reverently. “But you, Raj Ahten, must fear the reavers that infest your borders. Perhaps you do not guess the full extent of the threat. When the obalin lived, one could learn much by touching them. Perhaps here is something you did not know: The reavers are in Kartish.”

In Kartish were the blood-metal mines. If the reavers captured them...

Binnesman continued, “In your gullibility you've allied yourself with flameweavers, for they are strong in war. But it is no accident that reavers also serve fire. Nor was it an accident that a reaver came tonight and administered a deadly wound to the last of the obalin in an effort to hurry the end of man.”

Binnesman turned his back to Raj Ahten, as if no longer concerned with him, and said, “Yet, there are greater powers than those wielded by flame-weavers.”