legends of dacot (rise of a forgotten myth) (standard:fantasy, 9085 words)
Author: poetrydiva	Added: Feb 06 2005	Views/Reads: 3625/3451	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
On the 15th day of august in the year 1309, there was a birth that would change the history for the great Kingdom of Dacot. Born into no convenience or great wealth, this boy is nothing of great note to the King, who would one day feel his cold blade thro

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The boy waited for hours to be called, he didn't know what order they
were going. He did notice that the ones with the colorful cloths where 
getting fewer by the minute. Oh well, it shouldn't be long now, the boy 
thought. I should be called soon. But as the hours wore on and the 
light began to fade from the sky, he began to wonder if his turn would 
ever come. Just as he had finished that thought, he was called out of 
the crowd of children. 

“You there!” the Namer called ”You, boy, the one with manure on his
boots!“ the man called out to the boy, “Do you want a name or not?” 
Broken from his thoughts, the boy looked around to see who had gotten 
named. But every one was looking at HIM. He realized as he looked at 
the Namer, who was by now giving him dirty looks, the man had called 
him. The boy ran to the front and looked at the man not knowing what to 
expect. The boy began to say something to the Namer, but the Namer 
stopped him. No words are ever spoken by the named. The Namer's dark, 
seemingly unemotional eyes searched him from head to toe, as if trying 
to find something to name him after. 

He couldn't seem to find anything to call this boy that smelled like a
horse. Then it dawned on him, Horse! But not in this tongue, the man 
thought, having a sudden spurt of creativity he rarely experienced, the 
ancient tongue of Dacot. Smile on his face, the Namer said only one 
word. “Meirach!” 

The boy, now known as Meirach, had his name at last. Giddy with pride
and love for his new name, completely oblivious to the meaning, he 
almost hugged the man. But was quickly carried off the platform and 
pushed away. Not wanting to cause a scene, Meirach ran home with a 
smile of unadulterated bliss. Waltzing into his father's small shack, 
which he called home, he couldn't seem to stop dancing. Seeing the joy 
on his son's round face made him think of the boy's mother, Calarah, 
peace is with her. 

“Well, son. What is it? What am I to call my boy now?” he asked the boy,
“Well, come on now, out with it!” 

Meirach stopped dancing to the music he still heard in his head. He took
a deep breath and said very solemnly, “Meirach. My name is Meirach,” 
the boy said it in a voice so full of pride it brought tears to his 
fathers eyes. “Well, that's a nice name, did they tell you what it 
meant?” said Trieod, the boy's father. 

“No I didn't ask, I thought I would hurl if I opened my mouth, do you
know what it means?” the boy said with an expectant smile. 

”No I don't, m' boy. But you‘d better get some sleep, supper'll be ready
in the 'our“ he said to his only child. 

Meirach walked to the bundle of hay he called a mattress. He hadn't even
realized how tired he was until his father had mentioned it. He was 
asleep before his head hit the fur on his pillow. He dreamt of his long 
dead mother. She was smiling, with the sun in her auburn hair and the 
breeze blowing her favorite blue-gray dress around her, she looked like 
a goddess. Then the winds got stronger and the breeze turned into a 
storm, his mother was swept away from him. He woke with tears in his 
dark eyes. He wiped them away before his father saw him crying- he 
wouldn't like that. 

He walked to the table that separated their mattresses and sat at his
chair. Waiting for his supper, he looked around the room. He saw things 
that had surrounded him his entire life. The loom his mother had used 
tossed off in the corner covered with dust. His fathers working tools, 
he was a trench-man, the shovel and spade. His own things; toys tossed 
aside over the years, a book of the holy teachings, and his fathers 
large hay mattress. A jolt of the table woke him from his daydreams. 

“Well then, Meirach, here's your supper, you've got chores to do. The
block mastah was here earlier, says you didn't finish 'em.“ He said 
with a desperate glance. “I'm supposin' you've got a good reason, so 
I'm not goin' to ask. It had better not happen again, got it?” 

Meirach looked up from his small meal of salted potatoes and a strip of
dried chimtny root. He had completely forgotten about his chores! 

“Got it, da', I'm right on it,” he said. Gulping the last sip of xatha
from his goblet. He ran from the shack to the stables. 

On his way to the stables he danced and sang to himself. The people
still out working or drinking xatha saw him and smiled remembering 
their own naming. 

Suddenly tired Meirach stopped dancing and walked calmly still smiling
to the world. He chased some dogs away from a dead rat on the side of 
the road stopping to inspect the decaying animal as only a boy could. 
Remembering his work he rushed for the Stables. Turning the corner to 
the entrance he stopped to look in a shops window. Noticing it was a 
woman's undergarment shop he had chosen to look in on, he blushed 
furiously, glad no one had seen, making sure not to look into any other 
shop windows, he ran to The Stables. 

Finally at the Stables, Meirach got to work scrubbing and feeding the
horses. Cleaning out the manure and chasing away the rats and hay mice 
that occupied the hay loft. Swearing to himself as he noticed a blister 
developing on his thumb, from the fork used to scoop the hay, while he 
was rubbing Berta down. 

It was almost morning when he finished so Meirach didn't bother to go
home. Falling asleep in the Stables next to Berta he had a peaceful 
slumber, stirring occasionally from the cold. Waking at dawn, to early 
to work on an empty stomach, he stumbled back to his home still groggy 
from his sleep. Walked through the door to find his father already gone 
to work. It seemed a bit odd to Meirach, considering he had stayed out 
all night, and that his father was never eager to go to the trenches 
that surrounded to gates of Dacot. 

Making himself a small bowl of leftover potatoes and chimtny root. He
sat down to eat and watched as a neighbor walked past the door. He 
looked about quickly and looked at the boy in such a way as to say 
follow me. Which Meirach did, not knowing what the man wanted. 

Looking around again to be sure no one was watching. “Dems took your
Da‘,” the old man said, looking around again. “The quarta' mastah did. 
They was makin' a big racket dems was. 'Where is he? Where is the boy; 
the little street rat!' Dems was yellin‘ all night. Couldn't hardly 
sleep from all the racket.” The man said with a look of loath. ”Came 
an' asked me questions an' all that, but I wouldn't tell em' a thing. 
Course dems tried to bribe me an' all, but I wouldn't have none of it.” 
the balding old man said. 

“Where did they take ‘im?” Meirach asked. When the man didn't say
anything, he walked away, Frozen with shock. 

Fear began to shake Meirach as he realized that his father had saved
him. He knew he had to hide, but there was still much daylight left. He 
went to look for his father. 

Walking through the back streets and alleyways, Meirach slowly made his
way through the city. The hours droned as he searched for his father. 
Turning a corner into a crowded marketplace he almost bumped into a 
guard. Slipping away from the misshapen guard darting under the chimtny 
stall nearby. Moving quickly under the next only half hearing the angry 
cries of the guard. Already to the end of the line of stalls, he paused 
under the last one. 

Hunger tore at his stomach as he realized his lack of breakfast and now
lunch was approaching rapidly. Driven by hunger he reached out from 
under the wooden stall and grabbed the first thing he laid his hands 
on. Bringing his hand back he was stopped by a fat hand grabbing his. 

“What have we here?” the man at the stall said with little humor.“ well
lad? What have you to say? Stealing from my store are you?” looking at 
him through large spectacles. 

By now the man had pulled Meirach from under the stall. Almost tearing
his arm off in the process. Waiting for an answer from the boy, who 
stood, eyes lowered, rubbing his arm. 

“I'm sorry, Master, really I am.” Meirach said, “Its just, I'm so
hungry. I haven't eaten since last night, and my da's been taken away.” 
The man put his hand over the boys mouth. 

Looking around he pulled a string and the stall was closed. He pulled
Meirach into the small clay room behind the stall. Pushing him onto a 
broken old stool. 

“What do yah mean your da's been taken away?” The man said in a harsh
whisper. “ Who took ‘im?” 

Meirach, still young, didn't ven think twice about telling the man, he
was after all an adult, and so he began his short tale, being careful 
to leave the embarrassment of the shop window out. 

By now the man had a trace of hope on his large oval face. And was
looking through the cracks of the small boarded- up windows. He began 
to pace the small room, while Meirach sat and watched not sure what to 
do. 

He looked around the room, nothing of any importance, a few pots, fruit
to replace the ones sold, a water jug, barrels of unknown content stood 
in the farther left hand corner next to the wooden door on the back 
wall, the curtain of a door at the front of the room leading to the 
fruit stall. 

A cough shook the boy from his thoughts, and he turned to the man and
started to say something but was once again hushed. 

“Not here, boy.” the man said, with a slightly irritated look on his
face. 

Meirach nodded his head; if this man had it in mind to hurt him he
would've by then. 

The man grabbed Meirach's hand, ”Follow close, boy. I'll not be slowed,”
the man whispered through yellow teeth to the boy. 

They made their way out the door in the back of the room, down the alley
turning every which way. Until finally they reached a set of stairs 
going down, the man followed the stairs until they came to a long, dark 
hallway, with many doors. Murmuring could be heard through the wooden 
doors, and an occasional shout, but none came into the hallway. 

They stopped at a wooden door not unlike the rest, but for what seemed
to be a guard standing outside. He stepped forward as they approached, 
obviously waiting for a password unknown to Meirach. But the man 
must've known, for, after a brief pause and a whispered word, the man 
stepped aside and they went through. 

Meirach didn't know what to make of the room he was in. nothing
remarkable stood out to Meirach. A small table, laden with cheeses and 
fruits, sat in the middle with pillows surrounding it, in the typical 
sophisticated way of the Nobles of Dacot. 

Looking at the man, who now sat behind the table, he stepped towards the
table. Coming to a halt when he saw a large beast in the corner behind 
the man. 

“Come, come. He won't hurt yah,” the man said with a jovial look on his
face. ”Least not until I tell 'im to.” The man laughed a hearty bellow 
of a laugh. ”Now, lets get to business. What of your da?” The boy gave 
a shrug. “I don't know. I was lookin' for ‘im when your hand snatched 
mine.” Meirach stood looking at the food with a longing look, hoping 
the man would notice. 

“Well boy, aint you gonna eat?!” the man said with a bemused look.
“There's plenty here for ya.” he said as he stuffed a large soft-roll 
into his mouth. 

Meirach started, still looking at the food. Wondering what to eat first.
Then he noticed something about the man and the food. The man was only 
eating soft-rolls and soup. 

The boy, having grown suspicious, asked, ”Why don't you eat anything
else?” the man gave him cursory glance, “You know, why don't you eat 
the sweets or anything else” 

The man gave his bellow of a laugh. ”Well my boy, don't you know the
sweets are for dessert, and as for the rest, cant you see I don't have 
much teeth left?” With that the man gave a wide grin, which made his 
face look like a smiling Jack, from All Hallows Eve. Meirach took a 
look into the man's gaping mouth. And sure enough the man was missing 
most of his molars on both side and the bottom, and a bicuspid on his 
lower right hand side. He nodded in acknowledgement and sat down. 

“Well boy, I don't think I've met you 'fore, what's your name?” he
looked at the boy as if he didn't need an answer, having already 
plucked it from the boys own mind. 

“My name is Meirach. I just got it yesterday, at The Naming.” Meirach
said, as he stuffed a spoon full of something he had never tasted into 
his watering mouth. 

His eyes wide with surprise, he began to shovel the food into his mouth
like a person starved. The man just looked at him, a smile on his face. 
Meirach went for some of the xatha in a large jug on the end of the 
table and gulped it all within seconds. 

He paused, and the man took the opportunity to introduce himself. "The
name Bross, short for Ambrose but no one calls me that, got it?" Bross 
gave Meirach a look that told of many beatings, if he were to forget. 
The boy barely looked up from the food to give a short nod. "An' from 
now on your name is Weivv. got it? They'll be lookin' for a boy named 
Meirach. and we don't want them to find one, now do we?" the boy stared 
at the man he knew to be Bross. 

He had loved his new name, Meirach, somehow it told of great wonders and
danger to come. but Bross was right, they would be looking for him. and 
he definitely didn't want them to find him. so he would be Weivv for 
now. "Weivv" gave a short nod of agreement to Bross. 

* 

The man behind the false wall stood listening. He was wearing the light
robe and golden watch necklace unique to his order of Magic. Being a 
Magician of the Mazzel he strove for the completion of the legends of 
Dacot‘s histories. 

He wanted to be sure it was him. It was vital to the resistance. This
boy was the future. That was all he needed to know for sure. Was it 
Him? Had the legend finally come to pass? 

Now another man entered the invisible room, carrying a tray of small
treats and a pitcher of xatha. The magician picked up a small kojeikel, 
a cake like pastry with a vanillea seed spread, between the thinly 
sliced slivers of sweet cake. Looking thoughtfully at the cake, he 
began to doubt the legend as he had many times in the past, but never 
with THE boy in the next room. 

“What do you think, Toavena'ar?” the man with the tray asked. ”Is it
him?” This man, unlike the others, had a sophisticated air about him. 
He didn't use the street slang, and wore well made clothes however 
plain or ugly. And his well-maintained sword that hung on his belt told 
of a dignitary or knight in the least. 

“I don't know yet, he doesn't say much and even if he did, I don't think
HE would know.” Toavena'ar said, an annoyed look on his long face, ”And 
would you call me Toa, please Gezant, You know how I hate that name.” 
Toa said in a loud raspy whisper. Not wanting to be heard on the other 
side. 

“Did you locate his father?” Gezant asked, knowing the likelihood of
that task being completed. The dungeons of Dacot were extremely large, 
going on for miles under the city. 

“Of course not, you know that was an impossible quest!” Toa scowled “I
was searching for hours down there, nothing but drunks and petty 
thieves waiting to go home after the nights through.” It was late in 
the day by then. They had been waiting for hours for any clue the boy 
might give. 

Toa began making notes in a small red leather book. He wrote furiously
trying to keep up with his mind. Something about this boy was different 
from the rest. There was no deception in his attitude. He was a totally 
trusting child of eight, with no harsh residues from life as a servant. 


Toa kept writing for another five minutes, giving a total description of
the boy Meirach, his approximate height of 3'6”, his small build of 
maybe 75 lbs., his manner of dress, and all the rest. 

Seeing that his companion was finished with his scribbling, Gezant
crossed the small room from the uncomfortably small chair he had been 
sitting in to look at what had been written. Has he decided? Is it Him? 
These thoughts rolled through his mind. Looking at the book he could 
see nothing that would indicate what was going through Tao's mind or 
his decision about the boy. 

“Are you done reading over my shoulder?” Tao said from below him. ”Would
you also like to read my jounal?” 

“Only if you have some details about that wife of yours.” He said with a
playful seriousness. ”You never did tell me about your honeymoon. You 
stayed at The Liefheid, right? That's a pretty expensive place, isn't 
it?” He knew he was getting to him, but didn't want to stop when he was 
having so much fun. “How many spells did you have to cast to afford a 
room there?” 

“You know I can't cast spells like that, you bumbling idiot.” Tao said,
joining the friendly banter. “And besides, what of your own wife? Is 
she not good enough to satiate that hunger of yours? I heard some of 
the other men talking of how-” 

Another man walked into the room from the side door, he wore The Kings
colors, and had the gait of a trained soldier but he looked as if there 
had been many years since his last day on the battle field fighting 
against the legions of Atrum Reine, the Dark Empress of Vuori. 

“What've you found?” the man asked. ”We cant stay much longer, we've got
a long ways ahead of us and t'nights almost through.?” 

“We haven't found much, you old grump.” Tao said, looking fondly at the
old man. ”And besides, I've never known you to sleep through the night” 


“Well, I suppose I should be going.” Gezant said. “the court assembles
early next morn' and I've to attend” He bid goodnight to his fellow 
conspirators and left the room, mumbling about how hard it was to be a 
courts-man. 

After he had left, Tao looked at the man, ”Well, what have you found
today, Mes? Any new knowledge of this boy?” Looking with great 
anticipation at the man. 

“Well, we know his fathers in prison, you know the reason, his mother
died when he was two. We cant find much about her, no siblings, no 
other children, she was an orphan, for crying out loud!” shouting at 
the end from frustration. 

“So even if He's not THE one we have no one to give him to?” looking
troubled at the thought. ”well, even if he IS THE one, he still has no 
one to go to.” 

Thinking about this, Mes also thought of Bross, couldn't he take the
boy? After all he had caught him trying to steal, right? He could train 
him as a thief for the Thieves Federation. It was the perfect plan! 

“What if we put him in the Thieves federation?” Mes asked. 

“Of course! Why didn't I think of it?” Tao said, almost yelling. “and
even if he is THE one, he will learn many important talents. Yes, that 
is the path we must take.” using one of his many borrowed soldiers 
terms. 

* 

A soldier walked into stately office, past the men standing in the room,
bowed to the average sized man in the large lounge chair behind a heavy 
looking oak desk and took his station beside to the door. The men, 
momentarily silent, went back to pleading with the man. “Please, my 
lord, you must do something.” One man pleaded, while another said 
calmly, “My Lord, its just a legend, it couldn't possibly come to be.” 
While others simply shook their heads in agreement. Only one was silent 
standing in the back of the group of advisers. He was a dark man. 
Dressed in a blue vest with embroidered roses and a golden loincloth, 
only his pierced nose and left ear told the world of his Woest 
heritage. 

“People, people.” The King said. ”I will take in to consideration all
that was said this day, but for the moment, I would like to speak to my 
marshal” None of the men moved. “Alone!” 

The men shuffled slowly out of the room, muttering about court manners
and the strange Woestian, newly appointed marshal of the borders of 
Vuori, in their midst. 

“What do you think, Jes? What should I believe?” The King said, almost
pleading to the tall man. “Has the legend come to pass?” 

The tall man sighed and circled to where The King looked out the window,
behind the desk, as if searching for the boy. Not turning, he said, ”I 
don't know, Highness, I've heard only part of the legend. But it seems 
to me that it would be best to be sure of everything before making any 
decision, which would affect the Kingdom on any great scale. This boy 
is either a King in the making, or an unfortunate child thrust into the 
middle of something beyond his comprehension.” A small pause. ”I for 
one would like to see you upon the throne many years, this you already 
know, but if this legend has indeed come upon us, what in the heavens 
can you do?” The man looked now at the King of Dacot, almost regretting 
his words. 

The King was looking forward his face a mask barely concealing his rage.
“I don't know, Jes, I just don't know. My father, and his grandfather 
before him felt the fear of this day every day of their lives, but I 
was to ignorant and proud to take this bloody thing serious.” The King, 
a man of medium stature looked half his size now as he lay crumpled in 
his chair, was sweating profusely from the stress. 

“What do you know of the legend, My Lord?“ The tall man said. 

“Just what my father told me, and what I bothered to learn in school.
Basically the legend states that 100 years ago before the crowning of 
my great-great-great grandfather to the thrown of Dacot, he sired a son 
with some woman from the race of Warriors, she probably didn't even 
know he was prince.“ He said with a look of disgust. ”Anyway, when she 
did find out who he was, she took her son back to her clan, they were a 
bit short on men so I've heard, there she raised him to the age of 5 
when she died giving birth to his sister. The clan raised him to be 
some sort of great warrior, and the sister grew up to be a powerful 
priestess. I heard she was beautiful and they named her the head 
priestess or something like that. The boy, she had named him Meiroch, 
was said to be the greatest warrior of that time. He found some 
crystal, which supposedly didn't look like a crystal, and found the 
truth of his heritage, went to confront his ‘father' whom promptly 
extinguished his claim to any royal holdings and titles by disclaiming 
him.” 

“Now Meiroch, who had believed his father a noble man, was angry and
embarrassed, you know what kind of anger I am speaking of,” A look of 
understanding passed over the marshals face. ”He went back to his clan, 
and began his plans for a war with Dacot. At first no one would believe 
him, who would dare to make was upon Dacot they all asked, laughing in 
his face. But that only drove the man on. It fed the fire in him like 
no wood ever could. So when the first year passed and no war came, the 
king became lax and basically forgot the whole thing. But Meiroch 
didn't, he was training all those who would stand by his side. Men and 
women, can you believe that? Women! Hah! Well, he came a year after 
that when no one was ready for it. He quickly dispatched the wall 
garrison and all the town soldiers, when he and his people stormed the 
castle the men were in a frenzy, many ran when they saw this group, 
covered in blood by the way, advancing upon them. And so it was a clear 
path to the kings throne room. When he got there the king was on his 
throne, with his wife beside him. Now, Meiroch didn't want any more 
blood shed so he ordered his band of Warriors out of the great hall and 
asked the same of my great-great-great grandfathers men who left in 
such a hurry its said you could feel the wind as they passed. Once they 
were alone The King challenged Meiroch to a duel to the death. People 
say it went on for hours, days some say. But in the end the great hall 
was a bloody mess, with only one man standing. You can guess who that 
was. Well, his sister didn't take it to well and she put a curse or 
something on Dacot, it was that in a hundred years time a boy would be 
named for his ancestor and he would come to finish what Meiroch had 
started. 

“It wasn't so much what she said it was how she said it. The land shook
and the heavens opened, so the tale says. And lightning struck the 
earth. And her eyes glowed blue!“ The King was now out of his seat 
pacing the room, like a boy hearing a story of dragons and magic's for 
the first time. 

“Majesty?” Jes said. A look of doubt on his dark face. 

“Please, man, call me by my name, we've known each other what 20 years,
before you left? At least give me some semblance of an identity. Even 
my own wife wont call me by name, its always, Highness this or husband 
that. I've become especially fond of My Lord,” a look of annoyance 
crossed the mans face. 

If the other man was surprised by this, he showed no sign of it.
”Alright, Umil.” The tall man said, smiling. 

The King was about to say something when a servant walked in carrying a
silver platter with a scroll on it. The man bowed to The King and 
pushed the platter towards the man, who quickly grabbed and read the 
scroll, paying no attention as the porter backed out of the room. With 
eyes wide in outrage, Umil thrust the opened scroll at Jes, who read it 
quickly and threw it aside in disgust. 

“Your mother wants an audience.” Pointing out the obvious. 

“I know, I can read you know.” The King said, slightly annoyed at his
Marshal. 

“But why? Why now, when we are almost ruined?” Speaking of the boy.
“Surely she must know of the legend, and The Naming disaster must've 
reached her through her one of her many spies through out the city.” 

“Of course she knows! What more could suit her purposes better than a
Legend come to pass?” The King was now beside himself with anger. “I 
thought you told her not to contact you, Umil. I believe it was under 
the threat of some GREAT consequence. I doubt even she would ignore 
that threat. It might be that she sees no way out of your campaign in 
the northlands.” The tall man said hopefully. “Or it may be as you say, 
either way, I see no way out of this meeting.” The King looked 
incredulously at the man. ”What do you mean you see no way out! I am 
King! No man or woman defies my command, no one commands my presence! I 
go where I want, when I want. You of all people should know that.” He 
said, looking knowingly at the dark man. ”How else would I have escaped 
when we went to the Eastlands? You can be assured I did not ask my 
mother for permission!” 

The Woestian was smiling remembering the adventures of there youth.
Shirking the duties of Prince and Squire adopting the guise of best 
friends on their way home from school or simply running through the 
woods with the regular children. As they got older it became harder to 
play with children their own age so they began making long treks to the 
mountains leaving for days, sometimes weeks. Always coming back to 
terrified mothers and angry fathers. But much to their delight no one 
could ever seem to stop them, maybe delay them a couple days at most. 
Their longest adventure had been when they were 19; they stole a small 
barge, and followed the coast to the docks of Malury three miles to the 
east of Dacot. They had stayed there for two months working as regular 
laborers and living the “easy life” as they had called it. That had 
been there last and most grand adventure. That they had both agreed 
upon. They had spent many late nights talking of it. Remembering the 
easy life they had led for so short a time wishing they could do so 
every day. 

“Yes that's true, but in the end didn't you beg her for no punishment...
on your knees?!” he was now smirking in triumph. 

“Ah hem” A cough came from behind them. 

Simultaneously they turned, looking at the person responsible for
interrupting their fun. 

A small man in a robe much to large for his frame, stepped from the
shadows, “ I do believe we've met?” The strange looking man said. 

The two men looked at the man, and smiled. They greeted him like an old
friend. 

“Where have you been?! Been traveling through time on accident again?”
the King said. 

“No I believe you forbid me to ‘accidentally' or not” the short man
walked to the window behind the desk. 

“Yes, I do believe I did. But since when have you ever listened to me?” 

“Um.. Never I think, but I thought I might humor you as an early
birthday present.” 

“Well, then where have you been, Muki? Traveling isn't exactly your
thing, remember? You hate to get wet and I remember something about you 
hating horses.” the tall Woestian pointed out. 

“That I do, Jes. That I do. But I wasn't traveling on horse. I took a
boat” the strange man said. Sounding as if that were obvious. ”We went 
to Mantoga through the Tach-lin straight” 

“We? Who have you been traveling with? Not that girl you met on that
last trip of yours, I hope?” the dark man gave the magician an accusing 
look. 

“No, but I did not come for memories, no matter how delightful.” the
strange man had a deadly serious look on his face. The two men looked 
at each other in wonder, how could he know? They had found out only 
weeks ago. And that was fast by any account. 

“I've heard of the legend, what has happened so far? Are there any
rumors in the city? Does the Empress know?” 

“Of course there aren't any rumors, the populace don't even know the
legend, and you should know that. Only myself, the head-priests and 
priestesses of the respective Temples, and the courtesans know the 
legend in full. And who controls them all? Me, the King, that's who. 
When have the Temples ever gone against the crown? And how are we 
supposed to know if the Empress knows? Her court is weeks away, by the 
fastest courier we have.” 

“But we suspect the Dowager of knowing, she has sought an audience with
Umil, after the letter of warning sent to her at her estate in Pearl 
Island.” Jes said. Looking to the king for approval, all he got was a 
sharp look and a frown of disapproval. 

“So you suspect the Dowager? What about your spies on Pearl Island,
haven't they sent word? I know that in the south there are armies 
readying for battle, and I could see no foe. 

“I think the world knows and is readying to strike you down when you are
most vulnerable. I have been to many places in my life and I can think 
of none, who think kindly of your kingdom, Umil. Had it been your 
father or grandfather, many would have supported them but you've not 
been in the throne long, and your head is in the clouds not in the 
crown.” 

The King looked at the man in shock. No one had ever spoken to him so. 

* 

Meirach watched as the other boys in his age group tried the exercise
and almost all fail, watching for mistakes and other things. He had 
been at this camp for almost 2 years now, and was stronger, more agile 
and patient. 

His name was called and he walked up to the wall he was supposed to
climb with no foot or hand holds, after which there would be a large 
gap between another wall and this, he would have to jump across making 
as little noise as possible, run down the top of the second wall, climb 
through a small window into a room with two “people” sleeping, find and 
retrieve the cache of gold, and make it back to the starting point 
without attracting any notice from the 'guard' below. Have already 
failed three times he was determined not to fail again. If he succeeded 
he would move onto the next exercise, learning advanced reading and 
mathematics. Meirach had known how to count out enough money for the 
day old bread in the market place, but had never had enough money to 
count higher than five. He couldn't read at all, but his mother had 
read to him as a child, or at least his father said so. 

“Whoa boy, not so fast, haven't you been watching?!” the taskmaster
yelled. ”If you go to fast you make gravel fall, and you could fall 
with it!” 

“Yes, sir!” Meirach yelled from atop the second wall. 

“And don't forget to close the window this time!” 

Meirach heard the last remark but did not respond, for he was already
halfway to the window, with the 'guard' below. As he neared the window, 
he thought of all the lessons that applied to this exercise, stealth 
and patience were at the top, with speed and intellect not far behind. 

As Meirach neared the window he searched for any traces of alarms or
tripwire, spotting none he inched closer until he was able to see 
inside. Inside was a pair of “sleeping” people, not facing the window. 
He slowly opened the window and carefully avoided the vase on the short 
table below. And, remembering to close the window, began to search the 
house, room by room. Looking for anything of any value, from jewelry to 
caches of gold hidden behind a false floor board. Finding none in the 
bedroom, he continued his search throughout the remaining rooms in the 
house. Finding few valuables in plain sight he knew there was a stash 
of gold and jewels hidden someplace in the house, and went looking for 
it. 

After what seemed to be hours of thieving he emerged from the window
with a full sack hanging at his side. He had found the cache in a small 
hallow behind the china cabinet in the dinning room. It was modest by 
any standards but it was all there was in the house, and the instructor 
would just have to settle for it. 

Back at the yard, he presented his sack to the nearest instructor and
ran to get his evening meal. Arriving at the mess hall, he paused in 
the doorway to scan the crowd of boys and girls as they quickly ate 
their meals before going to their bunks to do their lessons. 

“Weivv! Over here!” a small boy said from the far corner. ”We've saved a
seat for you.” 

Meirach looked at the boy and the table where his small group of friends
sat, nodding to each child in acknowledgement. He walked slowly across 
the long hall to the hairy old man who served the food. 

“Evening', Keita'a. What's on the menu tonight?” Weivv said, looking
into the large, steaming cauldron of unknown contents. 

“Evenin', Weivv. How was them lessons? Not to hard I hope?” the skinny
old cook said. Meirach shook his head. ”Good, you children don't need 
to be taxin' your selves to hard. Well, the menus nothing much, but 
then again when is it?” the man now had a look that asked the world 
‘what am I doing in a place like this?' 

“Ah well, that's alright. I've kinda come to expect the stale bread and
watery soup.” Meirach teased the old man as he poured a ladle full of 
soup in to his waiting bowl.” Gezond, Keita'a. and have a good night as 
well.” 

The old man chuckled at the use of the thieves' farewell. These children
were not yet fully trained and already they thought themselves thieves 
of the highest order. 

Meirach walked to the table were his small group of friends sat, now
with their own plates empty. All were smiling at him, they had already 
heard the news of his success of the lesson but wanted a first hand 
account. 

“Well?” said a slim girl of about 9 years. ”Aren't you going to tell us
anything?!” 

Meirach smiled at the girl. “You should learn to be more patient, Merel.
I will tell you when I am finished with my dinner.” he said as he took 
a sip of xatha. 

The girl look disappointedly at Meirach, “I just wanted to hear you tell
it. Everyone is saying you broke the record. That's all.” Meirach 
looked surprised, ”Me? I don't think so. It took hours and besides I 
don't think I was the only one to finish today, how can you be so sure 
that it was me they were talking about?” 

“Well, since when have you ever been so humble.” a large boy sitting
across from him said. 

“Yeah, and besides,” a boy with large spectacles said in a low voice.
”they said your name, they do know it you know.” 

Meirach was smiling now,” Yes, I know they know my name, Uil. And I was
just a little surprised that's all. I never expected it, you'd think 
they would tell you when you finished or something, right? And besides 
how could so many people know in such little time, surely they're just 
rumors.” he looked at everyone at the table waiting for them to say 
something. 

“Well, I guess the only way for you know for sure is to go ask Task
Master Morren. He would know.” 

Now all the children looked slightly scared. They had called Morren a
moron behind his back until someone had slipped and called him it to 
his face. None had forgotten the punishment and none ever wanted to 
have to be in such close quarters alone with him again. 

“No I don't think I want to know that badly.” Meirach said only half
jokingly. ”Besides I think we will know soon enough.” 

At that moment a senior instructor walked into the hall, pausing as a
pair of teenagers to deep into their conversation to notice him, walked 
into is pat almost knocking into him. He walked towards Keita'a and 
whispered a few word into the ear as the old man nodded and gestured to 
Meirach. 

The squat man made his way slowly through the swarm of children going
about their mealtime routine. Even when a child collided with him he 
did not take his almost hateful glare from Meirach. 

When finally he did reach the table he motioned the others away and
stood waiting for Meirach with a stern look on his tanned face. Looking 
at Meirach with a look of total loathing and disapproval he sat with a 
loud thump from his sword hitting the wooden bench. While adjusting his 
sword to a more comfortable position he swore under his breath. 

Meirach, having no idea what the man wanted, had stopped eating and was
now starring at him. He noted the gold ring on his little finger and 
the thin gold chain around his neck. 

After a long silence when they just stared at each other the man finally
broke it. 

“Well, since it seems that you are not going to inquire why I am here I
shall just come right out and tell you.” the man said to Meirach. ”It 
has come to the attention of the Higher council that you have broken a 
record one hundred years unbroken.” The man said without any emotion on 
his face. ”They would like to speak to you in a private audience 
tomorrow afternoon. You should bathe and dress in your finest attire. 
If you have any questions its best you ask me now rather than have your 
foot in your mouth the whole time your in there.” The man looked at 
Meirach expectantly, but Meirach was silent. ”Weivv? Well boy? Have you 
any questions?” he shouted. 

“Yes, what do you mean I broke a record? Today? But that lesson must've
taken hours!” Meirach was shocked. How could he have broken a record?! 
“Besides how did the council find out? The lesson was only a few hours 
ago at the most.” Meirach knowing he made a good point waited for the 
instructor to answer. 

The instructor had asked himself the same question when Task Master
Morren told him to inform Weivv of his appointment and to answer any 
questions he might have. 

“Well I suppose they have somebody watching the lessons and such. How
else could they know?” The man did not believe in magic, or more to the 
point he feared it. 

“But what about the record how could it have gone for so long with out
being broken, surely there are better thieves than I.” Meirach said, 
still not believing he had broken a record. 

“I am sure you will find that out tomorrow at your audience with the
higher council. Now, Are there any other questions? No? Ok, well don't 
forget tomorrow- at noon. Meet me at the main building, right? Don't be 
late and stay clean. You will be excused from all lessons tomorrow so 
you can take a bath in the morning and all that nonsense. But be here, 
CLEAN, at noon. If you are late I'll be the one they yell at.” 

The man walked out of the now empty hall, his footfalls echoing in the
silence. Meirach walked to the nearest window and looked into the four 
moons of Ruimte, the bringer of good fortune and the patron of young 
thieves , which were said to bring the gazer good luck if you could 
spot one of the large craters. 

Searching those large orbs of silver and green he wondered at the day
ahead. And there he stood motionless in his contemplation. But his mind 
raced. 

Still thinking of the next days events, he wandered around the grounds.
Without thinking he walked almost straight to the Wall. The lessons 
events going through his head he sat on the wall and thought of what 
was to happen at the council. 

* 

The men hid in a cave under the Onrien pass, while their leader, Gezant,
scouted ahead. Crouching low and staying as quiet as humanly possible, 
they heard many terrifying sounds from the wood across the stream. 

Gezant, though heard none of it. For he was not scouting ahead but had
been transported by a friend of Toa's to the thieves high council 
building for an immediate conference involving Meirach, known to all, 
save a scattering of important higher ups, as Weivv. 

“What now? Nothing bad I hope?” he said to the first person he saw. For
they all knew him here. He was in fact, among the high councils 
members. 

Walking down the long corridors, Gezant, finally able to think, began to
worry about the content of this conference. It being a holidayed 
weekend and all most of the magistrates of the counsel should be out 
instructing their pupils. And these being some of the greatest days for 
thieving known to the federation, it was hard to imagine them calling 
off one of the most important of their lessons. Knowing all that; 
nothing that Gezant could think of could possibly be good. But when has 
it ever. Him being known as a great pessimist and all. 

Pausing a second in front of the entrance to the Hall, his eye caught
the reflection of himself in a wall mirror and noticed his arm hair 
sticking out from beneath his uniform. He began to tug at the cuff of 
his jacket. Walking into the Hall, he was as struck with awe as he was 
upon his first meeting. 

The high domed ceiling with magnificent paintings and tapestry lining
the walls, with scents rubbed into the very cotton from which they are 
woven. Marble floors and columns where of the purest white. Why one had 
to take of ones boots even to walk on them. With the members of the 
counsel sitting in balconies set in a semi circle and a single wooden 
chair set in the center. All the magistrates of the counsel stood, 
waiting for some reason for them to be there. 

Most looked to be at least one hundred, and as per the rules of the
Federation none younger than 65 may sit upon a dais in a balcony, as 
stated in the amended constitution of the Federation, as was set forth 
after the terrible blunder of Mr. High Counsel-man Ongevale. As he 
walked toward the center of the chamber he looked at each magistrate 
and bowed the bow of an equal in this chamber if in no other. Upon 
approaching his seat he was greeted by his neighboring magistrate the 
Polk de la Hew, a thin man in his mid- 90's and an appetite for young 
women. He was the cousin of a famous thief from the 1200's. Whom it was 
rumored, stole the crown jewels of the Empress of Suloin. They 
exchanged the greetings of old friends and equals. His other neighbor 
was not in attendance and was almost never there besides. 

Having finally reached his seat he stood as all the others did and
waited for the rest of the High Counsel- men to take their seats. 

“Wonder what this is all about.” la Hew whispered from his position to
the left of Gezant. 

Gezant, knowing what it was, said nothing. Only nodding his head in
agreement. He looked around to see whom it was that had missed the 
celebration and lessons. Most had chosen not to appear at the meeting. 
A few key members were in attendance, the Polk de la Huette, a nephew 
of la Hew, for instance. He was among the first and most enthusiastic 
of the board. He knew that the current monarchy would soon collapse and 
the kingdom would be lost and so he had introduced the proposition of 
finding Meiroch's descendants, supposing any had survived of course. 
When finally it was assumed that all that were to be in attendance 
were, the higher members of the counsel, in slow procession, marched to 
their seats. 

After all men were standing in front of their seats a loud gong was
sounded from somewhere hidden from view. And with a loud sort of sigh 
all the counsel members were seated. 

Once again the gong boomed and a small man entered through a door hidden
from sight. As he scampered across the floor to the center of the 
colorful sun inlay on the marble flooring, there were a few chuckles 
from the audience. Having reached the center he pulled out a small 
parchment and began reading a list of the itinerary for the days 
meeting. Most were small matters and only few were of any real import. 
Just updates on the newly arrived nobles to the area. And a notice to 
be on the look out for a new “hero” who called himself ‘Atrius', from 
the old Dacotian language, meaning ‘one with justice'. 

* 

“'Lo, there Aitre, what be the hurry?” an old seaman asked the spry
youth bounding past his corner stall, as he did every morn. 

“'Tis just another day, Cap‘. Nothin' much to report this early in the
day. ” the boy said, as he did every morning. And still running he 
swerved just in time to avoid the kindly bakers wife, who was always on 
the lookout for a child to feed or clean. 

Running past the docks and their workers he hoped he might see his
fathers boat returned home after his trip to Vlieger Bay on the other 
side of the continent. But having run the length of the dock, he knew 
his father was still at sea. 


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