Michael Manning - The God-Stone War

Penny’s face was set in an expression of deep concern, but she held her questions for a moment. It was Marc who finally asked the practical question, “So what does it say?”

I had already closed the door within, the one that led to those other memories, but I still retained the knowledge of the tablet. “It is a physical record of the first accord between the She’Har and mankind.”

“A treaty?” he pressed, wanting more detail.

“Of sorts. They were a civilized race long before we were. This is their original acknowledgement that we were sentient beings. This was their promise that we would be treated as equals. Before this, we had no more legal status among them than a horse or cow does today in our courts,” I explained. There was more… hiding in the back of my mind, but I dared not look at it. There was something dark there, something terrible in those memories, and I did not want to see it.

“Sounds as if they were rather full of themselves,” Marc commented.

I shrugged. “You have to understand; they were building cities when we were living in small groups in the wild, hunting small game and foraging for food. They weren’t even aware that we had language then, we appeared little better than apes to them.”

Marissa spoke up, “You sound as though you were there.”

“I think maybe I was, somehow, some part of me at least.”

Without bothering to wonder at the ‘how’, she leapt on me with a scholar’s question. “You said they built cities, yet no historian today can point to any remains of their civilization. Where were the cities? What happened to them?” she asked intently.

“They were wood. Everything they built was made of wood, or rather it was grown. Their cities were…,” as the words left my mouth a vision of fire and darkness rose in my mind. I clenched my eyes shut, hoping to shut out the sight. “Can we talk about this some other time? There’s just too much for me to manage at one time,” I said softly.

A look of disappointment crossed Marcus’ face. “Just promise me you’ll write whatever you know down… eventually.”

“I’ll tell you when the time comes. You can add it to your book,” I said simply. I had already turned my thoughts away from the dark memories. I could sense them there, staring at me from the back of my head, but as long as I didn’t look at them, I could pretend they weren’t there.

“Perhaps,” he said. “Things don’t always work out the way we want them to. Just promise you’ll write them down when you can. You never know what will happen.”

“Fine,” I answered, “Have it your way.”

Penny was not so easily satisfied. “I for one don’t like the thought that my husband has some other man’s memories jumbled about in his head.”

“I have other news, if you think that might help to distract…,” began Marc with a mysterious smile.

“I’d love to hear it,” I said, grateful for anything to change the focus of our conversation.

“Thought so,” he replied. “I’ve kept skimming through the books in your library and found a mention of the Gaelyn family.”

“I’m sure there are more than a few ‘mentions’ of them. You must have found more than that if you are bringing it up,” I replied acerbically.

Marc graced me with a sour expression, “Well, aren’t you a wise-ass tonight? As a matter of fact, what I found is a specific reference to the movements of the remainder of their family after the sundering.”

“How specific?”

“They moved to Agraden,” he said immediately.

“When?”

“Less than ten years after the Sundering,” he replied. “They established a large family stronghold there, not far from the oasis city itself.”

I looked at Marissa, “Have you ever heard of this?”

She shook her head negatively. “No, but then I have not lived there since I was a teenager.”

“Do you think there could be some of them still alive there?” said Penny.

“Unlikely,” Marcus said quickly. “The book I found this in was a history of the wizard lineages. The last entry on the Gaelyn family was made by Jorlyn Illeniel over a hundred and twenty years ago. According to that entry, the last remaining scion of the Gaelyn family line died in a fire that consumed their family dwelling.”

“I would like to study that book later,” I remarked.

Marc smiled, “I left it on your desk in the study. I knew you’d want to examine it carefully.”

The study was a private office-like area that was connected to the master bedroom, my parent’s bedroom originally. Though I had let Marc and his wife set up housekeeping here, they had decided to leave that room for Penny and myself, since the house actually belonged to me. “Thank you,” I told him.

Marissa gave Marc a pointed look and gestured toward us. Clearly there was something else she was waiting for him to tell us. He leaned over and whispered in her ear for a second before straightening and addressing us directly, “Part of my reason for bringing up the matter of the Gaelyn family, is that it coincides with a few other things.”

Penny looked at me, and I stared at my friend for a moment before it dawned on me what he must be working toward. I glanced at Marissa. “Do you still have family in Agraden?”

She nodded affirmatively.

“That is a rather long trip and I have no circles there,” I commented.

“It’s actually a shorter distance than that between here and Lancaster,” my friend noted.

“Which is a trip involving good roads with many villages along the way. Agraden isn’t even properly part of Lothion, I believe they have their own ruler or some such,” I told him. I didn’t like the sound of this trip.

“He is called a ‘shah’, but it is simply another word for king,” Marc informed me.

“More than half the journey is through dessert, with no chance of finding a friendly inn along the way,” I reiterated.

“It isn’t nearly as difficult a journey as you make it sound,” he replied.

“You also have to consider the return.”

“We plan to live there. Marissa still has a prosperous uncle there who is willing to help us until we get acclimated.”

“You’re moving there?” I said, a bit more loudly than I had intended. Without realizing it, I had risen to my feet.

Penny’s hand was on my shoulder. “It hardly matters Mort. Once you’ve been there and created a circle it will be just as close as Albamarl.”

“I don’t have time to travel into the desert right now. I have to oversee the construction of the World Road, and when I’m not doing that, I have to figure out how to root out the last of the shiggreth. All this goes without even mentioning the fact that I have to keep up with your father,” I said darting my eyes in Marc’s direction.

Marc gave Penny an apologetic look. “Would you mind if I spoke to Mort alone for a few minutes?”

She gave him a curious stare before replying, “No, I don’t mind. I’ve been hoping for a chance to talk to Marissa for a bit anyway.” I knew there was nothing further from the truth, but my wife had become an experienced noblewoman over the past seven years. She knew how to play the game.

After the two ladies had left the room, I turned back to Marc. “Alright, you can be honest now. There’s no way in hell you’d suddenly decide to move to some backwater in the desert. What’s going on here?”

My friend’s eyes bore an expression of sadness so deep that it sent a sudden chill down my spine. His voice was soft and yet also matter of fact as he answered me sadly, “I’m dying, Mordecai.”

My first impulse was to call him a damn liar, but his eyes had already told me the truth. My second impulse was to laugh and lie to myself. Surely he was mistaken. “You’re full of horseshit.” I included a sickly smile and a poorly executed laugh with my declaration. It sounded pathetic even to my own ears.