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The Trees And The Night (Book 3) Page 9


  “They seem to have raised you properly,” scowled the woman. “You are polite, healthy and well mannered, but did they teach you anything of the stories?”

  Kael blushed and dropped his head.

  “They tried,” stated the boy softly, “but I resisted.”

  “Hmph,” snuffed the woman shaking her head. “Yes, Avra blessed Eru and his offspring with the horse, but not with the ancestors of Finepion but rather his descendants.”

  Kael’s eyes widened.

  “But that would mean that Tarader is ....”

  “Immortal,” said Hai finishing the boy’s comment.

  “Not truly immortal,” interrupted Fondith. “However, like the Seraph, Avra created the father of all horses with a tremendous force in the life pool. One day the proud stallion will succumb to what must be, but none know when that day will arrive.”

  “You mean to say that at one time there were no horses?” mumbled Kael to himself. “I find that hard to believe. I mean there have always ...”

  Fondith interrupted the boy by putting a hand on his arm. She turned to her son.

  “Tell him of Eru,” she said to Hai. “I must arrange accommodations for our guests. I will not be long.”

  The tiny woman stood and departed from the tent. Hai shrugged his shoulders and smiled to Kael, then immediately began to recite a story. Kael knew the Eru rider had both heard and given the story hundreds of times.

  “Finepion,” said Hai. “Known as ‘Tarader’ to the Zodrian, roughly translates from the old tongue as ‘the first horse’, although it could also mean ‘the last horse’. I suppose it depends on the translation.”

  “And I suppose by ‘first’ you do not mean ‘first with no equals’?” said Kael.

  “No, although that is true as well,” replied Hai. “I mean he is the first horse. A beast touched by the hand of God.

  “In the days before the might of Zodra stretched across the West and the Ulrog grew to dominate the slopes of the Knife Mountains, nomadic peoples roamed the Tre or grasslands of this land on foot.” continued Hai. “The beasts of the plains were abundant and space seemed limitless. Herds of bison and deer migrated up and down the Tre. The tribes hunted these herds and thrived on the bounty of Avra.

  “However, as time continued the herds shrunk and the tribes grew. Often, tribes slaughtered more than they needed and left the remainder to rot. Competition for the herds and watering holes became fierce and soon clashes erupted between tribes. Bloodshed became commonplace and the peaceful prairies turned into ever raging battlefields.

  “Eru led of one of these tribes. He separated himself from the other tribal leaders by instilling a deep respect for Avra’s creations in his people. Eru’s family took only what they needed and passed on thinning herds in an attempt to insure the future. They avoided conflict with other tribes and moved on when competition grew between themselves and others. Eru remained a man of peace, ready to draw his saber in defense, but never in aggression.

  “Avra looked down upon the escalating warfare with a heavy heart. One day a man appeared before Eru as the chieftain walked to the lake known as ‘Calm Waters’. Eru greeted the man and extended his hands, palms outward in a show of peace. The man returned the gesture and approached Eru. The man told Eru he was Ader the third Seraph of the world of Avra. At that news, Eru trembled and fell on his knees before the Guide. Ader bade him rise and walk for they had much to discuss.

  “Eru was told that his peaceful ways and fairness made him favored in the eyes of Avra. Avra decided to help Eru’s people prosper. He would bestow a great gift upon them. If they misused this gift, Avra’s anger would be strong. With that, the Guide turned to a grove of trees and whistled. From among the trees strode ten of the most beautiful creatures Eru ever beheld. They moved on four legs, but not like the heavy beasts of the plains. They were swift and graceful. Their backs were broad, but slimmer than the bison. They were much taller than the herd animals as well. Their long, powerful necks ended in proud, regal heads. Ader called the animals ‘horses’.

  “Ader and Eru approached the horses, and they held no fear of man. The lead horse, a tall gray stallion, bore a shocking, five-pointed white crown on its brow.”

  “Tarader,” whispered Kael in recognition. “Touched by the hand of God.”

  “The second was a midnight colored mare with a similar mark,” continued Hai. “Ader walked to the stallion, grabbed his shaggy mane, and swung himself onto its back. Eru hesitantly approached the mare and performed the same maneuver. After the chieftain grew comfortable, the pair rode back to Eru’s encampment.

  “After several months the day came when the tribe of Eru mastered their abilities with the horses and Ader left them. The Guide departed to the North upon the large gray stallion.

  “The tribe of Eru prospered. Eru, his wife and each of their sons and daughters received one of the gifts of Avra. Soon, the horses multiplied and all the tribe owned horses and were expert riders. However, the tribe of Eru still avoided contact with the other tribes. Eru and his people became excellent hunters from horseback. Now more than ever they chose to show restraint and not over hunt thin herds.

  “The other tribes continued to waste the bounty of the plains and war amongst themselves. Eru realized avoiding them would not solve any problems. Fighting them conflicted with his beliefs. Eru devised a plan. His people approached the least violent of the roaming tribes. They offered gifts to these tribes and an exchange of goods, always giving more than they received. They demonstrated patience and peace with these tribes. Eventually, the groups attained mutual admiration. Finally, Eru sent one of his sons or daughters to a tribe with the greatest gifts of all, horses. This son or daughter was instructed to remain in the camp of the tribe as a guest and instructor on how to do everything from ride to foal a mare.

  “Eru shrewdly chose a son when the tribal chieftain had an unmarried daughter, or a daughter for an unmarried son. His children were like their father, beautiful in both countenance and spirit. Often, the situation led to alliance from the gifts but also a union of the tribes through marriage. In this way, the Erutre assimilated all the tribes of the plains into peaceful union. All preached Eru’s belief in conservation of the herds and the plains supported everyone. Peace and plenty reigned supreme.”

  “And the horses?” asked Kael.

  “Continued to multiply,” responded Hai. “Eventually they grew into our main source of trade with other lands.”

  “Yes,” smiled Kael. “In the Southland we always recognize a stallion born and raised on the Tre. Manfir possesses such a stallion.”

  Hai looked out the tent’s opening into the darkness of the night.

  “The Prize,” whispered the boy dreamily. “He is magnificent.”

  “The Prize?” questioned Kael.

  Hai blinked and turned back to the boy.

  “Each season the finest of the three year old colts are gathered before the Chieftain and the warriors of the Eru compete for their ownership,” said Hai. “There are always more warriors than colts so before the competition you must declare which of the animals you will compete for. Often the finest animal brings the most suitors. Warriors of lesser ability will sometimes pass on the finest colts in order to feel comfortable in their ability to secure an animal. The Cull, as we call it, is considered the most festive of all our events.”

  “Compete?” questioned Kael.

  “It is quite simple,” returned Hai. “A large circle of stones, approximately fifty yards across is laid out in an open field. Two contestants enter the ring on horseback. No weapons are allowed. The riders attempt to drive one another’s mount from the ring or unseat the opposing rider to the field below. A rider that falls from his mount or has that mount driven from the ring is eliminated from contention for the colt of his choosing. Through these matches, the field of riders interested in a horse is thinned until just two remain. The final match determines who will receive the colt.”

  “Ah,”
acknowledged Kael, “so Manfir’s midnight stallion was one of the horse’s available the year he gained ownership?”

  Hai shook his head in dissent and smiled.

  “No, he was not one of the colts available,” said Hai. “He was the colt available.”

  “But you said all the colts were contested for.”

  “But this was an unusual year,” replied Hai. “For Finepion and Hershon foaled a colt.”

  “Hershon?”

  “Hershon is the midnight colored mare presented to Eru by Ader on that day centuries ago,” said Hai. “She has carried the Chieftain of the Eru for centuries. She seldom delivers a foal and as the centuries roll on, the event occurs more infrequently. However, five years ago she gave birth to the Prize and all Eru rejoiced.

  “Of course other mares gave birth to foals that year, but not a rider alive would pass the chance to compete for the offspring of Finepion and Hershon. Every warrior selected the midnight as their choice and a huge tournament commenced. The Prize was the desire of all.

  “Ader and Prince Manfir arrived on the eve of the competition, unaware of its impending commencement. As is the custom of the Eru, our guests were invited to partake in the tournament. All knew Lord Ader would decline, but after some cajoling, Prince Manfir opted to compete.

  “One thing you must understand, Kael. The Eru are bound to their mounts. To the Eru, their horse is as a member of their family, a trusted compatriot that offers its services. We treat our mounts as an extension of ourselves. We understand that our mount is our life, without it we are nothing. An injury to a rider’s horse is like an injury to the rider. The competition is one of expert ridership. The Eru prefer agility and speed in order to command the battlefield. The Eru dance their horses about one another, exchanging blows and attempting to wrestle one another from their mount’s backs. The rider’s legs guide the horse in order to keep his arms free.

  “That is why Prince Manfir faired so well in the early stages of the tournament. His years of battle along the Scythtar prepared him well for the competition. Years of Ulrog claws trying to pull him to his death taught him the importance of remaining on your mount, your means of attack and escape.

  “However, the prince also developed his own tactics in the saddle. The first riders to face the prince were unprepared for his aggressive style. Manfir used his mount as a weapon. Spurring it forward into harms way. Using its body as a battering ram to hammer his opponents.

  “When Temujen called for Manfir’s first match to begin, the prince stunned his opponent by charging across the stone circle at full speed. Usually, the Eru trot to the center of the circle, size up their opponent and test his strengths and weaknesses. Manfir’s opponent sat stunned, confused by the prince’s move. Manfir continued his charge and slammed his horse into that of the Eru rider, sending both mounts spilling out of the stone circle.

  “The Eru rider never dreamed Manfir would use a horse in such a manner. It was alarming, reckless. Some say even dishonorable. However, according to the rules, the Eru’s horse exited the circle first and therefore Manfir won the match. He continued extremely aggressive tactics throughout the first two days of the tournament and those of us advancing in other matches realized we would be hard pressed to keep the Prize amongst the Eru. We were concerned about our own matches but amongst ourselves we all discussed tactics to defeat the Zodrian.

  “By the seventh day of matches only one rider remained to face the Zodrian prince. I was nearly fifteen and competed in only the second Cull of my life. However, I have clung to the back of a horse all of my years and my abilities go without question. I am proud of what I can accomplish on horseback.

  “The match against Prince Manfir of Zodra, however, was a daunting task. He was a man both much larger and more experienced in battle than I. Additionally, the pride of my people rested on my shoulders. I was nervous but determined to win. My strength lay in my ability to avoid the brutal onslaughts of which the Zodrian was now known. My mount was sure-footed and quick, albeit a bit small. She maneuvered quickly and possessed sizable stamina. My brethren and I conspired to wear the Zodrian down. After a solid weak of matches, his stallion wearied. My mare was accustomed to such extreme riding and showed no sign of fatigue. If I made the Zodrian chase me and wear down his mount, eventually I might force him from the ring.

  “Our plan worked marvelously. My mare danced circles about the Zodrian’s big roan and soon his horse tired. The prince grew impatient. Frustration set in and he drove his mount even harder in an attempt to hem me in. He was unsuccessful. After several hours of such strenuous riding, both stallion and rider’s heads hung low.

  “That is when I initiated my second tactic. I continually moved in on the rear of his stallion and slapped its flank, trying to drive the horse from the circle. Manfir quickly tried to turn his beast to face me every time I executed this maneuver, but his exhausted stallion could not swing about in time. My mare spun and swirled around the prince and I drove him further from the center of the ring toward its edge.

  “The Eru cheered and applauded my tactics. I remained supremely patient, adhering strictly to my plan. The strategy nearly rewarded me with victory. We faced off a mere horse’s length from the circle’s edge. I made what I thought would be my final move. I charged hard toward the stallion’s left flank. Manfir’s horse spun from me and faced the circle’s edge.

  “But suddenly the big man rose up on his mount’s back and leapt toward me, catching me unprepared. As I have said, the rules state a rider loses when his mount is driven from the circle or he is unseated to the field below. Since, the Eru consider their mounts an extension of themselves, none would ever consider leaping from their horse onto another.

  “I sat stunned and in an instant the big man landed behind me upon my own mount. Quickly he threw an arm about my neck and we struggled. I determined not to be unseated and knew as long as I remained conscious even Manfir of Zodra could not do it. I locked my knees into the sides of my mare and gained leverage on the prince. However, he never planned to unseat me.

  “ ‘Hold!’ yelled the prince to his own stallion and the beast froze.

  “He taught his warhorse this tactic so it would not escape him if he were unseated in battle. Simultaneously, the prince hammered his heels into the flanks of my mare, driving her forward out of the ring. Once again Manfir of Zodra challenged centuries old tradition in our tournament and provided an outcome none were prepared for.”

  “But you both left the ring,” stated Kael, “neither of you won the Prize.”

  “Many Eru agreed and felt the match ended in a draw,” smiled Hai, “but the Chieftain judges all such matters and Temujen’s decision adhered to the rules clearly. Manfir neither fell to the field below nor allowed his mount to be driven from the ring. My mount, on the other hand, exited the stone circle. I lost and Manfir of Zodra took possession of the Prize.”

  Kael bit his lip and looked sidelong at Hai.

  “You must have been very angry with the prince,” said Kael.

  “On the contrary,” laughed Hai, “the prince’s participation in the Cull taught the people of Eru a valuable lesson. The enemy you face may not always decide to adhere to attributes and rules you apply. We defended ourselves against the same Ulrog raiding parties for many years and might never have recognized the change in their abilities and tactics. Manfir helped us grow as a people. We are indebted to him.”

  “But you lost the Prize,” replied Kael.

  “True,” returned Hai, “but the prince gave me an open invitation to challenge for the Black at anytime. I’ve not seen him in three years, but the moment I do, that challenge will be given.”

  Eru elders socialized and moved about the tent as the children continued to play music on their instruments. Ader and Temujen sat together and discussed all that occurred in the years since their last meeting. Eidyn added what he could, but Ader dominated the discussion.

  When talk turned to Kael, Temujen displayed his under
standing of the boy’s past and significance. Ader continued the story until recent events at the crossing of the Frizgard. When Ader concluded, Temujen sat pensively for a moment. Finally, he looked up.

  “This business with the Borz concerns me deeply,” stated the Chieftain. “The Eru are stretched thinly already. To the north the Ulrog increase their raids into the Tre. In the East the Derolians and the remnants of Astel call for aid. The Ulrog begin to enter their wood from across the Mirozert. In the West, the Zodrians become weak and the Keltar fail us. Ulrog increasingly slip from the mountains to wreak havoc across the North. My riders do what they can, but cannot cover thousands of leagues alone.

  “The South remained our salvation, our means of retreat. News that the people of the great sea of sand align themselves with Amird posits another threat against us. Bleak news indeed.”

  “Yes, but as I’ve said. The Toxkri lies between you and this foe and the Toxkri contains the people of Sprite. The Eru must rest in the comfort of that knowledge,” said Ader.

  “A comfort I struggle to assess,” frowned Temujen. “ I must take the protection of this mythical people on faith. I have no way of knowing their capabilities. I trust you implicitly Lord Ader, but faith by its very nature leads to a degree of uncertainty.”

  “True, but so far the Sprites have impressed the leaders of the other great nations and I believe you too will find them a remarkable and capable ally,” returned Ader as he waved a hand, palm open, toward the children playing music.

  Temujen threw a questioning look toward the Seraph then studied the scene before him. The children laughed and sang, strumming instruments and beating drums. There amongst them, leading the tune, was a little man in Eru attire playing a flute. The Chieftain furrowed his brow in concern and waved toward the guards stationed near the tent’s entry. Immediately the little man stood and waved goodbye to the children, who laughed and waved in response. The guards moved toward his position and in a flash Sprig danced between the divans of the tent and disappeared beneath a wall. The guards strode forward and stood before the Chieftain.