David Dalglish - Dawn of Swords

The shadow-lion leapt at him, claws outstretched, the shimmering blood of Ashhur dripping upward from its snarling lips. Geris tried to move but couldn’t, couldn’t…until he awoke with a start, covered in sweat and panting, his head pounding as if struck by a twelve-pound hammer. He heard a series of wretched sobs leak from his own throat. His body shivered uncontrollably, still locked in the physical sensation of the nightmare. He closed his eyes and tried counting his breaths, another trick Ahaesarus had taught him, and eventually he felt his heart begin to slow. His fear, however, remained unabated. He didn’t want to open his eyes. The demon could be out there, the impersonator who had destroyed his Lord and creator in the recesses of his sleeping mind.

Very slowly he pried open one eye, then the other. He saw a lantern burning softly in the corner of the single-room hut that he and his family called home. His two brothers were asleep beside him, his four sisters in their bed a foot away. Baby Roman, not even a year old, snored quietly in his wicker basinet. Geris rose up on his elbow, taking care not to rouse his siblings, and gazed at his parents’ bed beneath the eastern window across from his. They too were sleeping, their bodies twined together. He watched their chests rise and fall, rise and fall. Then, tentatively, he leaned over the side of his straw-filled mattress, gazing from one end of the cabin to the other, seeking out any movement in the darkness. There was none. He lay back down and crossed his arms over his chest, hoping he could get some rest despite his shivering body. The words of the shadow-lion lingered in his mind as sleep finally took him.

He cares not about you-only her.

“Geris, sit down,” said Ahaesarus. “We have something to discuss.”

Geris bowed his head and stepped into his mentor’s large tent. The tent’s fabric walls were white and nearly sheer, and the top stood at least thirteen feet high. The Warden himself sat at a rectangular table in the center of the living area, where a simple carpet had been situated atop the grass. Ahaesarus’s minimal clothing was stacked atop a wide, flat stone, teetering like a collapsing tree. Geris stopped in front the pile and straightened it; delaying the inevitable with simple chores was a nervous tick he’d developed since joining the lordship.

“Kingling, stop fiddling with the laundry and come to me.”

“I’m sorry.”

He approached the desk and sat in the chair opposite his mentor. Ahaesarus cut an intimidating figure even while seated, his height accentuated by his broad chest and shoulders. The Warden had a head of long hair that was as gold as the sunrise, smooth tresses that hung straight over his shoulders and came to rest just above his midsection. His eyes were a brilliant green that seemed to shine even come nightfall. With daylight pouring in through the gossamer walls of the tent, they were almost haunting in their brightness.

“What is it, sir?” Geris asked, though he knew perfectly well. His studies had faltered in the week following his nightmare. Concentration had become difficult. In open competition with Ben, he often lost contests he had always won in the past. Just this afternoon he had been handily beaten during the open forum. Many of Safeway’s residents had taken a break from their gardening and prayers to pepper the two kinglings with questions about how they would lead the people if they were chosen as king. Geris stammered while Ben answered each question smoothly with confidence. It seemed as though Martin’s death had steeled the youth, somehow augmenting his self-assurance.

Ahaesarus leaned back. His chair creaked, the wood bending beneath his substantial weight. He stared at Geris, tapping the fingers of one hand on his chin while he fiddled with the small, curious pouch he wore around his neck with the other. It was a pose to which Geris had grown quite accustomed over the past year or so. The Master Warden was waiting for an answer-an answer Geris was reluctant to give.

“Very well then,” Ahaesarus said finally, sighing. “You don’t wish to speak. Perhaps slopping out the latrine outside the Sanctuary will make you more talkative.”

The Warden reached behind him, bringing forth a shovel and a large wooden bucket.

Geris shook his head. He wanted to be anywhere but here, perhaps out skipping stones in the river with his friends like in the old days. And he didn’t like Ahaesarus’s tone either. Just hearing it made him miss Jacob all the more. The First Man never spoke to him like that.

Jacob is not your mentor, he thought. Ahaesarus is strict because it’s his duty.

“It’s not that,” he said, unsure if he should continue but doing so anyway. “I’m just frightened is all.”

“Frightened? Of what? Of Ben? Is that why you’ve allowed that oaf to best you in public competition? He is nothing to be fearful of. He holds not a candle to you. You have always been the best of the kinglings. The presentation of the lordship before the council in Mordeina is but a few weeks away, and you must be at your best once we arrive.”

“But what if I don’t want this?” muttered Geris with the irritated whininess of the young. “I was chosen; I didn’t choose.”

Ahaesarus eyed him with uncertainty. “Is that why you are frightened? Because you’re not sure if you wish to be king?”

“Um, well, no.” Geris struggled with his words, trying to find the right ones. “I’d be honored to be king. It’s just that…I don’t know…I don’t understand…why? Why do we need a king when Ashhur is here, showing us the way? Why do we need a king when our god walks among us? Does he tire of us? Does he wish to pass the duty of leadership along to someone else and disappear, as I heard his brother did? Does he not love us anymore?”

The Warden’s gaze softened. He looked almost compassionate, which was an expression Geris had never seen before on his staunch, all-business mentor. Ahaesarus leaned forward, his arms dangling over the front of the desk, and addressed Geris directly.

“I see what this is about, but you are wrong. Ashhur loves all of his children. He always has and always will. In truth, he was opposed to the idea of a ruling class. He sees all his children as equal parts of a united whole. The lordship was my idea, mine and my fellow Wardens’. As the surrogate guardians of your people, we felt it necessary for you to learn to govern yourselves as they have in the east. We told Ashhur that his children deserve the chance to prove that the lessons he has taught them have taken hold in their hearts and minds, by administering their own laws, their own justice. It was not easy to convince him, but he eventually acquiesced.” He spread his arms out wide. “Obviously.”

Thoughts rushed through Geris’s brain. “But why would he listen? Doesn’t he know best?”

“Ah,” said Ahaesarus, wagging his finger before him. “That is a great truth, but there are layers to every truth that are not so transparent. Even the gods do not know all there is to know. Ashhur is a great and benign deity. He understands his limitations as well as his strengths. He recognizes that there are worthy ideas other than his own. Besides, if you are never given a chance to rule yourselves, then the lessons you learn will go untested, unproven. It is Ashhur’s love and trust of his children that has convinced him to agree with our plan.”

“Does he really? ” asked Geris under his breath.

“Does he really what?”

The message of the dream burned in the forefront of his thoughts. “Does he really love us? It’s been three weeks since Martin died; yet after the memorial I have seen him only twice. I’ve heard it said he spends all his time in his solarium, alone with the goddess.”