Jean Lorrah - Wulfston's odyssey

“The road is gone,” Kamas replied.

“Gone? Where?” Wulfston asked. “You can’t take away a road. You can temporarily block a pass with an avalanche; you can tear down bridges; you can flood a valley the road passes through. But with Adept powers it’s easy enough to clear away rubble, rebuild bridges and dams. Z’Nelia’s people have had four years to do so.”

“The Dead Lands,” Ashuru said grimly, “lie in the path the Savishnon would have to take to reach Johara from the north.”

“I see,” he replied.

Ashuru continued, “Lord Wulfston, do you understand why it is not always possible to obtain a Vision of what one seeks-or why such Visions are often incomplete?”

“Yes,” he replied, having been privy to much discussion on the matter after Torio developed the rare gift of prophecy. “The future is affected by both the past and the present. It appears that some events are fated-the will of the gods, the Aventines would say. No matter how we try to stop them, those events happen. The fall of Tiberium was such an event.

“True prophecies concern only such events, which are often foretold many years before they occur. But they are not detailed.” He was staring at his hands as he spoke, and suddenly Lenardos ring came into focus. “The design on this ring,” he continued, “represents a prophecy. ‘In the day of the white wolf and the red dragon, there will be peace through all the world.’ All our world, at any rate, for the white wolf is Aradia, my sister, and Lenardo is the red dragon. Their union represents the unity we have achieved, Readers and Adepts together. And there is peace.”

He could not voice the thought that forced itself, unbidden, into his mind. The prophecy does not say how long that day will last. If I don’t bring Lenardo back to Aradia -

“Yes,” said Ashuru, “prophecies and Visions give only part of the information we would like to know, for all the rest depends on events and decisions that change from day to day. Tadisha’s Vision told that you will play a key role in the upcoming battle, Lord Wulfston. What it did not tell was who will win.”

Tadisha spoke. “The battle will be between the greatest forces ever raised on our continent, and you will be a central figure. That battle will change the fate of Africa.”

Wulfston asked, “What do you mean by ‘central figure’? Or ‘changing the fate of Africa’? Where does Z’Nelia fit in? Because I’m here, will the Savishnon be defeated? Or-?”

Ashuru interrupted with a snort of laughter. “If we could answer that kind of question, we would be gods ourselves.”

Then what good did it do to put Tadisha in such danger ? He did not voice the question, although he suspected that Ashuru Saw it despite her weakened condition. If she did, she pretended not to. “So,” she said, “you are a part of our battle plan, whether we want you or not. Shangonu protect us all.”

“I will help you all I can,” he replied. “But first I must ask your aid. The crew of my ship are to be sold at the slave market at Ketu. So that I may rescue them, I ask an escort who knows the land, the language, the customs.”

“And has money to buy your men,” added Ashuru.

Buy them? Before he could protest he realized she was right-the simplest solution was best. “Thank you,” he replied. “I will repay you, of course.”

“There will be no need for repayment,” Ashuru replied. “Either you will lead us to victory, in which case payment is trivial, or you will lead us to our death. And no debts can be repaid to the dead.”

“I will take you to Ketu, Lord Wulfston,” said Kamas.

“I will go too,” Tadisha added. “We must move our armies into position against the Savishnon, and we have promised to help you rescue Lord Lenardo. I am well enough to travel. Mother requires much more healing-”

“With the permission of your healers, Queen Ashuru,” Wulfston said, “I will add my powers to speed your recovery.”

“Your help is accepted,” said the healer, “if the queen permits.”

Ashuru nodded; she was growing weaker.

“One more thing,” said Wulfston. “I must question Barak. His wounds ought to be healed by now.”

“You forget his great age,” said the healer. “But you may speak with him when we waken him to give him nourishment this evening.”

Ashuru struggled to stay awake. “What else do you think Barak can tell you?”

“The rest of the story of Z’Nelia,” he replied.

“Then,” Ashuru said, her voice weakening, “I must be here. Tadisha-” She groped weakly in her daughter’s direction, and Tadisha grasped her hand. “Promise me. Make the healers wake me, too.”

Tadisha looked to the healer, who gave a fatalistic shrug. “I promise, Mother.”

Ashuru drifted off, going automatically into healing sleep. If they had had time to spare, Ashuru could have recovered eventually at this rate. But they did not have that time. Wulfston spent the next two hours joining his powers to those of the healer, aiding Ashuru’s body to heal.

That evening Wulfston, Tadisha, Kamas, and Ashuru gathered at Barak’s bedside. The Grioka watched them warily. “What do you seek of me now? I have Told all I know.”

“I think not,” Wulfston replied. “In fact, you lied to us.”

He heard Tadisha’s sharp gasp-obviously one did not speak so to a Grioka-but Barak appeared more fearful than offended.

“You told us,” Wulfston continued, “that after the battle at Johara four years ago, you left as soon as the lava had cooled. I do not think a Grioka would do that. The story was not complete. You would have waited until Z’Nelia either died or recovered. She recovered, and I think what you discovered the next time you were in her presence sent you into exile.”

Barak nodded. “Blood will tell, Lord of the Black Wolf. You will not let me keep my secrets any more than Z’Nelia would. It is true-driven by a Grioka’s need to know the end of the story, I stayed in Johara while Z’Nelia’s spirit wandered… and returned. Once she was well, I sought audience to my sorrow.

“I learned what truly happened on Mount Manjuro, when Z’Nelia released the fire demon. What I did not expect, though, was that Z’Nelia learned my greatest secret as well.

“Z’Nelia had always been a most powerful Mover, with little ability to See. She returned from the land of the dead with her Seeing powers increased manyfold. She Saw my betrayal of her father, many years before.

“It was not long after the Aresh, the Time of Change,” Barak replied to Wulfston’s look of confusion,

“when the first Movers and Seers appeared in Africa. There were several generations of turmoil, as those with powers overthrew hereditary tribal leaders, and some created new tribes. Often these new leaders would then fight one another. There was war, and for a long time little security for anyone.”

“Yes,” replied Wulfston. “That was very much the way things happened in the lands where I grew up.

Only in my father’s generation did some Lords Adept seek peace.”

“Nerius was not your father,” said Barak. “Listen-I will tell you who you are. In your grandparents’

generation there were born in Djahat, the seat of the Zionae before the Savishnon drove them eastward, twin sisters, both extremely powerful Movers. As they grew to womanhood and came into their full powers, it was inevitable that they would both seek the throne-but only one could have it.

“While their father, Nelatu, yet lived and held the throne, both women married men with strong Mover powers, and bore children. Raduna bore a son, and Katalia a daughter. Raduna’s son was a powerful Mover, but Katalia’s daughter showed only the smallest trace of such power, and no Seeing ability at all.