The Watcher's Keep: The Triadine Saga, #1

Prologue

The Triadine Saga is a work of fiction; however, it has been translated from the Elvish annals known as the Menta Renjunkai Paklanta. These chronicles were recorded over several centuries, first by the Elves of the Aren in the city of Archaille before The Breaking, and then later in the hidden Elven city of Alpenvail. At the end of the Second Age, the writings were recovered from the mountain city, and they were completed in the city of Palladium on the Fireheart Sea by the Elves of the Dresda. Some of the slant is therefore toward the Elves as victims or heroes when in fact they may have played a lesser role than contained within.

Scholars also disagree with the translation of Menta Renjunkai, with opinions varying as to whether it refers to the time just before The Breaking or from a period of time even earlier in history. In this writer’s opinion, it refers to both, and its original historical reference was to the time before the rise of humans, when Elves and Dwarves lived in proximity to one another, each serving a different purpose to the benefit of both.

I must apologize in advance for some of the translations in this saga, as many of the words from the original Elvish do not have equivalents in English, and approximations had to be made for the storyline to make sense. In particular, distances, time, and days of the week have been converted to modern units in many places in order for the reader to make sense of the story.

Your indulgence of these small adjustments is appreciated.

I hope you enjoy the story.

Timothy

The Keep

Artist Rendering by Victor H. Harmatiuk

Chapter 1

Peter lay very still in the tall grass. His closed eyes barely filtered out the bright afternoon sun. This spot on the southern slope of their secret hill let him soak up the sun’s warm rays until he was lost in his own world. Earth smells gently rolled over him, a hint of mint and clover and the comforting scent of fertile soil.

Tall pine, cedar, and hemlock trees were dominant in this part of the forest. Small clearings such as this were rare and to be cherished, especially when they captured the afternoon sun. The tall, slightly brown grasses of late summer gently tickled and tugged at the back of his neck—not quite annoying him enough to make him get up, but managing to keep him from enjoying an afternoon nap.

Alex, Peter sang out finally, frustrated he was unable to get any sleep. Are you still trying to talk with those silly birds? Don’t you know tiella birds don’t talk? It was just your imagination, as I have told you over and over again.

He could tell he was starting to get to his sister. No one can talk to birds! Quit wasting your time on them. What you should really be doing is studying your lessons, like me. Brother Cadresean will be most upset with you if you don’t show improvement soon.

Studying, huh? You have your lessons written on the inside of your eyelids? Alexandra raised up a small smooth stone and tossed it in his general direction.

It missed, of course—if she had intended to hit him, she could have easily done so—but it was close enough to his head to get his attention. What followed next was a frantic race around the fringe of the woods, brother chasing sister through the spindly trees at the forest's edge. It started with mock anger, and then with shouts of raucous laughter, both children reveled in the last days of too short a summer.

Peter, stop it! Alexandra laughed, too exhausted to continue at last.

Peter grabbed his sister tightly around the waist and tumbled both of them into the ferns and soft grasses at the base of the hill. Winded, an even match twin against twin, they laughed so hard now that their sides ached. How soon it would all end—these lazy days of childhood. Neither was quite ready to let it all go and grow up.

It all had to end, of course. Harvest time was nearing, and with it came autumn, followed inevitably by the long, cold winter. The only real joy for the twins in the winter was that Lake Estonan would freeze over from the Abbey to the edge of the Misty Woods, and they would be able to play games and fish on the ice for a full moon cycle or more. Some years only the shallow bays would freeze and the inlet and outlet would remain open, supporting a river of moving water, running black and cold through their frozen playground. These years were few and far between. From the chill air that drove down the temperature a few nights already this season, this year was not likely going to be one of those warm winters.

Very soon, it would be too dark in the evening to walk in the woods or play children’s games among the trees. By this time next year, there would be a real job for Peter. He had reached the age where boys became young men, and he would have to labor in the service of the king.

Peter would not have hard labor in the stone quarries like most of the boys of Alnen his age. He was lucky. Brother Cadresean had secured him a position in the Abbey as a scribe. His pen was fair and he kept a steady hand. He would do well in his new profession, even if he did not decide to join the Order. The hours were long but the work was clean and warm in the winter. It was also very boring for a young man with eyes on the world and lust for adventure in his heart.

Alexandra would not do much better in his eyes. She would go to work with Molensa in the kitchens of Lord Berrol’s keep in Alnen. This was not bad work, but certainly not what she had been educated for. The keep was not the castle in Solenta. Lord Berrol was not the king, and Alexandra's position, as a kitchen scullion, would do nothing to propel her to the Royal Court. She never really wanted to go there anyway—that was just the talk of a sixteen-year-old girl.

Alexandra was an exceptional student at the Abbey in spite of her brother’s teasing. She excelled in history and the arts. She wanted to be a teacher or a healer, but only monks were allowed to be teachers, and only after long and careful training in the Abbey of Saint Julean on the coast of the Arithe Ocean—to cleanse the mind of the heretical knowledge one might pick up in the world.

As for being a healer, nobody outside the Royal Court was taught the potions, herbs, and runes of healing. These were skills reserved for a select few in direct service to the king. Those who were natural healers were forced to practice their arts in secret, lest they be drafted in service and taken from their villages. Most worked as midwives and hid their real talents from outsiders. Alex showed some aptitude for healing in her studies at the Abbey, but Molensa made her hide her natural talent so as not to stand out from the other girls.

The twins were nearly identical. Both had blond hair, but Peter's was shoulder length and usually tied back in a ponytail while Alexandra's was long, down to her lower back, and most of the time kept in a single braid. Both had green eyes, striking and with a slight almond shape. Their bodies were slight of build yet muscular. Both children were active and enjoyed activities out of doors. Their skin tone was slightly dark, as if they were always in the sun, even in the middle of winter.

We really must be going now, it will be dark soon, Alex said quietly. She enjoyed her brother’s playfulness, knowing these days were drawing forever to a close. If we stay here much longer—she added with a grin—Molensa will certainly have Bairden beat us and send us to bed without supper.

She was joking, of course. Their guardians loved them as dearly as if the twins were truly their own children. The heavyset stonecutter and his wife were always watching out for Peter and his sister, making sure they wanted for nothing in life. Bairden more than Molensa was bothered the twins had no friends among the other children in Alnen. He knew the reason, of course, the twins were different from any of the other children in the hamlet. He only wished he could explain it to them. In time, Molensa would say as he lay beside her at night. His frustration at their isolation stabbed him like a dagger.

Okay, Alex, let’s go. I’ll race you to the stream!

Peter was already off, shoving his sister aside to get those extra few steps he needed. She was fast and lithe in the forest, and they would be out of the trees and to the edge of the stream in just a few minutes.

Peter, you awful cheat! Alex shouted as he disappeared through the trees, I will still beat you. And I will get even with you for this. She did beat him home as she promised, and quite handily at that, but she did not have an opportunity to get even.

Chapter 2

Afire was already laid in the hearth when Alexandra and Peter arrived home. Supper was on the table, and Molensa was pouring some wine into a simple iron goblet at the head of the table. Peter noticed there were two extra place settings, each sporting a goblet of wine. An intricately carved white hazel-wood staff was cradled in the stand next to the door. The staff sported a bronze wolf’s head pommel, brightly polished and worn on the top.

Oh, there you two are at last, Molensa said, appearing a bit more annoyed than they felt she should be. I thought you would both go to bed hungry this night, you stayed at the Abbey so late after lessons.

Molensa was a large woman. Not obese, but clearly she enjoyed eating good food. Her silver hair was pulled back and tied with a scarf as always.

Peter knew immediately they had been caught. We did not stay late after lessons today, he said quickly. We were ... we did not go to the Abbey this morning. We were out in the forest, near the Silver Stream waterfall.

Were you out in the woods with that old hermit again? Molensa asked pointedly.

Neither of them could lie to her, she could read it in their eyes, and besides, she wouldn’t really care. Yes, we went to visit Karoel, Alexandra spoke up. We wanted to spend some time with him before the Harvest begins. We did not mean any harm, we just wanted to hear more stories about the Old Days, before the world was broken and the Great Rift was formed.

Peter joined in, From the time when there was still magic in the land, and there were Elves and wizards and Dwarves and dragons and griffins and—

Enough! That will be quite enough of that! Molensa barked, glancing quickly toward the closed kitchen door. I will not have you speaking such prattle. Brother Cadresean will be disappointed that you two have not learned your lessons better than this. There are no such creatures as Dwarves or dragons, there never were, and there will be no more such talk in this house.

She was not angry they knew, just cautioning them. Talking of the Old Days was considered blasphemous in the Church and was not allowed anywhere in the lands of King Leondis Tarbane. No one risked speaking of such things with a Julean monk in the house. They were bound by the laws of their Order to report all such heresy directly to His Holiness the Archbishop in Solenta.

The heavy door to the kitchen opened slowly, and three men filed through engaged in a quiet discussion. The first was Bairden Oldsted, the master of this house and guardian of the twins. Bairden was a large man by human measure, with dark, strong, weathered hands that had long held a chisel and hammer in the service of the king. His face was kind, with wrinkles set deeply around his eyes—as much a sign of his nature as his deep belly laugh. His face was partially hidden by a thick growth of beard, which always seemed to shelter an escaped fragment or two from the stonework of the day. Today was no different.

The second man was much smaller, dressed in the plain brown robes of the Julean Monks, which made his pale skin appear almost ashen. He sported a wild shock of jet-black hair that seemed to have been pasted across his high forehead. He could have been a wraith next to the two larger, healthy men.

He was a stranger, though the children had seen him before. He was a recent arrival at the Abbey, and they knew him to be from the Royal Court—a counselor of some worth attached to the Church. Not a High Counselor to be sure, and not truly a monk or a priest, if the back room gossip at the Abbey was to be believed, but a man who was feared by the local Brethren. The whispered dread that swept through the Abbey was enough for the children to appreciate Molensa’s earlier caution. The staff at the door was his, they knew, and it was reported that he used it to discipline some of the less pious monks.

The last man to enter was dear Brother Cadresean. His brown robe, ruffled and wrinkled as usual, was tied awkwardly around his enormous belly, and he chewed on some scrap of the upcoming meal he had stumbled upon while the men were talking privately in the kitchen. His normally rosy cheeks were particularly pink this evening, and his shaved head wore a gloss that made it gleam like highly polished marble. He liked to sample the fine wines and ales the Abbey produced, and it appeared he had been imbibing this evening already.

Ho, ho there you little lost lambs, have you been playing tricks again on a poor bedraggled monk? Cadresean bellowed at the children. Sheepishly he glanced toward the pale little man who had moved over in front of the fire and either ignored this roaring greeting for Cadresean’s favorite students or pretended he had not heard it.

Ahem, I mean, where have you two been all day? He spoke more now as befit the Head Master at the Abbey in Alnen. You have worried your dear mother sick, and you have missed your lessons today on top of it.

Mother? Alex wondered. Did he mean Molensa?

As Peter opened his mouth to reply, Molensa piped in quickly, I am so embarrassed, Brother. I had forgotten until just this very minute that I sent the children on an errand today, to Hilldale, to pick up the makings for tonight’s dessert. I know how much you appreciate a bit of sweet fare after supper, and there was not a pound of fine chocolate to be had anywhere in Alnen. I am so deeply sorry to have caused you to worry. I must be losing my faculties in my old age.

That’s right, chimed in Alexandra, chocolate and almonds for bearded crumb pie. Your favorite dessert, I believe. Mother, I am surprised at you, forgetting that you sent us on such an important errand. Alexandra decided to play along with the ruse.

Peter looked around confused, first at Alexandra and then at Molensa. He was just about to open his mouth and disagree when Alexandra said, "Don’t say a word, Peter, to him in the silent speech the two of them secretly shared. Keep quiet and let’s see where this is going. I am afraid of this pale little man from the Royal Court. He frightened me at the Abbey, and he is even more frightening here, now. Not only that, but Brother Cadresean called Molensa, Mother! He of all people certainly knows better than that."

Chapter 3

Dinner had been a somber affair although the meal itself had been excellent as usual. It might have even been bit over indulgent for the sake of Brother Bannis, as the honored guest had been introduced. Molensa was a marvelous cook who had learned to prepare exquisite food while working in Lord Berrol's keep. She baked fresh black bread, roasted lamb with whole yellow onions from the market at Hilldale, and steamed fresh carrots with sweet new potatoes from their own small garden served in a honey glaze. These were complimented with sliced wood mushrooms, compliments of the hermit Karoel, which were smothered in the morning's butter.

A special vintage Julean wine Brother Cadresean had thoughtfully brought along with them from the Abbey accompanied the meal. A fine treat compared to the rather tart fruit fermentations most of the villagers were used to. The Julean Order of Monks was famous for their fine wines and ales. They sold them to help finance the upkeep of their many abbeys and to contribute their share of income to the Church. The Brotherhood was also well known for their able consumption of the beverage. Cadresean kept their reputation alive, drinking more than his fair share of wine this evening.

Brother Bannis explained his recent arrival and presence in the village in a high-pitched nasal voice that only further convinced Alexandra he was not to be trusted.

His Holiness, the Archbishop in Solenta, Bannis whined, has sent me on a special errand to Lord Berrol.

Bairden raised his eyebrows slightly at this, all the while stroking at his beard and knocking loose small remnants of his day’s labor.

Since the Lord is out hunting for a few days, Bannis continued, and I particularly dislike chasing after truant lords, Brother Cadresean and I decided to pay a visit to a few of the king’s most loyal subjects that live on the outskirts of the village.

At that, Cadresean awkwardly squirmed in his chair, noticeably uncomfortable at being included in the plotting of this trip to the outer edges of the hamlet.

Brother Cadresean has always raved about your cooking, dear lady, and it seemed only fitting that we stop by to enjoy your culinary talents, he continued in the same wheezing, whiny voice, not seeming to notice the other monk's uneasiness. When we heard the news that the twin children of Bairden the Stone Cutter had not shown up at lessons today, why we decided to rush right out here to help locate the little ones and kill two birds with one stone as it were. We are so happy to see that they are home safely and are not harmed in any way.

He seemed to be very pleased with himself for the story he had just told. No one in the house appeared to actually believe him; however, they all politely nodded as Bairden mumbled words of agreement and thanks for this show of concern. Bannis seemed not to notice, still absorbed with himself at the tale he had just woven to cover his real reason for being here.

Ahem. Brother Cadresean cleared his throat while settling back in his chair, seemingly eager to change the subject. Do I recall you saying that there was bearded crumb pie for dessert? He suddenly went pale as the last words cleared his lips. Oh, ah, I mean, ah, that is if you— His stammering was accompanied by a steady reddening of his cheeks and forehead that clearly measured his embarrassment.

I’ll get it! cried Alexandra as she rose from her seat. Peter, come help me in the kitchen.

Groaning, Peter started to protest, But certainly you can—

Come with me into the kitchen. Now, Peter. She stared into his bright green eyes. Peter rose with a silent protest, and both children went quickly through the heavy door and into the kitchen.

Okay, what’s going on, Alex? Peter whispered loudly once they were alone in the kitchen. Why all of the sudden the private words, and what was with the strangeness in everyone at dinner tonight? Why did Cadresean call Molensa Mother?

I don't know, but I am frightened. It has something to do with that Brother from Solenta, I’m sure, Alex replied. It is also not like Cadresean to be so quiet during a meal. And did you see him eat? Hardly one plateful and you know how big his appetite is. All he did was drink and refill his mug several times. I've never seen him ignore a plate of lamb like he did tonight.

They both smiled thinly at her attempt to break the tension but were clearly ill at ease.

Now help me with this dessert, and do not say anything foolish. You bring along that bowl of cream and the extra plates. As she reached the door, Alexandra smiled, turned back to her brother, and whispered, You know, I do not think our tutor believes we have any bearded crumb pie. He will certainly be relieved to see this. It is fortunate that mother went to Hilldale earlier in the week after all.

Chapter 4

Later that night , as the crescent moon slipped into view through the trees outside the second story window of the sleeping room the twins shared, the sound of hoof beats came to them from the roadway below. This was not the same sound as the old draft animal that drew the cart bearing the Julean Monks back to the Abbey earlier this evening. It was the awkward, unsteady pounding of an overtired animal, bearing a heavy burden after an arduous journey.

The front door to the house was opened and closed quickly, accompanied by muffled sounds of greeting and the shuffling of heavy boots on the wooden planks below. Soon another horse and rider entered the lane to the cottage, and the ritual was repeated. Two more times within the hour the door was opened to admit travelers—not all apparently arriving by horseback.

Peter, you awake? Alexandra quietly asked her brother, who was lying on his pallet across the room from her.

Yes, whispered Peter. How many have come in since we were sent to bed?

I counted two on horseback and three on foot.

Three? I only heard the door open twice for visitors on foot, Peter challenged.

Yes, but one of those times, two people entered—at least I think it was two. They were very quiet, I had to strain to hear their footsteps, but I am almost certain I heard two enter together, Alexandra answered somewhat more confidently.

The twins shared another secret—they both had excellent hearing. Alexandra’s hearing was a bit more developed then Peter’s. She could distinguish faint sounds with more certainty than he could. Peter never tired of testing her abilities at this when they were alone, often dropping stones clutched in his hand and challenging her to count them as they hit the ground, with her eyes closed, of course. She was almost always correct in her counting—except when Peter cheated.

Alex, I’m going to open the door so we can hear what they are saying, Peter declared.

Peter don’t you dare! That would be spying.

I can’t stand being closed in up here and not knowing what’s going on downstairs, Peter stated in hushed defiance. I’m going to prop open the door so we can listen.

Peter quietly crept to the door, over more protests from his sister, and slipped out of the room and into the hall. There was no one else upstairs, and he could clearly hear a familiar voice making a point in the room below. He propped the door open with a vase of dried flowers that was on the landing at the top of the stairs and went back to lie in the dark and listen.

... and I say it’s too dangerous, the familiar voice continued. They are too near to Tarbane to be safe now that his interest in The Prophecy has been ignited.

The children recognized the speaker as Karoel the woodsman, their mentor and lifelong friend.

No, I disagree. Bairden was speaking now. We can’t panic like finches at a feeder when a cat appears, every time we hear rumors from Solenta.

Rumors! Finches at a feeder! This time it was Brother Cadresean’s voice they heard. How can you say these are just rumors this time! Did you not tonight feed the king's spymaster right from your own table? Did he not come to Alnen right after the so-called rumor that the midwife Ornwen had returned to Solenta?

His words flew from his lips now. Did he not come rushing right out here to your cottage when he found that two children, twins in their sixteenth summer no less, were missing from lessons at the Abbey? I say we move them now! Move them to Tibouli or Caergana, to one of the other abbeys where they may be kept safe from harm.

No, not to Tibouli or Caergana, a new, unfamiliar female voice declared. This voice was different from any the twins had ever heard. It was almost lyrical as its speaker continued her argument. Your other abbeys will certainly be watched, Brother. You have done a fine job up ‘til now, hiding The Chosen Ones. It is time The Children of The Prophecy are gone from here, from under the nose of the enemy.

No, not the enemy, Lynntania, but merely a pawn of our much greater foe. But yes, I agree it is too dangerous for them to stay here any longer. This was another vaguely familiar voice, a man’s voice, but one the children could not place. We will take them out tomorrow night, after the others arrive. We will not go to another abbey or even another settlement in the lands under Tarbane's rule. It is time they travel to Alpenvail to meet with the Council.

What is going on Peter? Alexandra asked, her voice hushed, rising on her pallet to stare across the dimly lit chamber at the form of her brother lying in the shadows. My head is spinning. I am so confused. They have to be talking about us, and the king, and that strange monk, Bannis. What is this Council and did you hear? Alpenvail, the hidden city of Elves Karoel talks about in his stories!

Peter had understood no more of the conversation than his sister. She had always looked to him to explain things she did not fully comprehend, so he took his best stab it. Well, as I see it, Alex, we are going to be traveling tomorrow, and we are not going to be taking part in the Harvest this year. As soon as he spoke this, he knew it was a dumb thing to say. It certainly did nothing to ease her concerns.

There were quiet sounds of departure now from the rooms below. The meeting was breaking up, and the travelers were not staying the night. A decision had apparently been reached, and there was to be no more debate.

Bairden, Karoel said with obvious concern in his voice, as he lifted his long handled axe gently from its resting place by the door. Everyone will be staying at my cabin tonight. Tomorrow, I will come and lead the children to the first meeting place, where we will wait for three days before continuing on. We will then regroup at Kalystra before we travel into the Lumin. The others obviously cannot be seen in the village by day, so they will go on ahead to be sure there is no danger on the road.

Bairden nodded and clasped Karoel’s right arm securely in his own. They are my life, good friend. I will trust them to you until we meet again. Molensa and I can be there before a fortnight has passed.

I know I don’t have to say this, Karoel added, but be absolutely certain you are not followed.

We will not be, Bairden replied. "I can easily disguise the journey as another visit to the eastern marble quarries, and I often take my wife along on extended trips when there are no upcoming celebrations at the Keep. I will make the arrangements to travel to the quarry at Firerock tomorrow morning.

We are still weeks away from the Harvest Festival, so no one will take notice we are missing until many days have passed. By the time we are missed, our trail will be too cold to follow. Cadresean will spread the story that the twins have gone to Caergana Abbey to further their studies, and no one will doubt that at this point in their lives.

Chapter 5

Night turned quickly into dawn for the twins, as they discussed possible meanings of the strange conversation they had overheard. The mysterious discussions had been tossed back and forth between the two of them until they were not exactly sure what they had heard and what they had imagined in their attempts to explain it all. Surely, the light of day would bring clarity and understanding to what was a most confusing state of affairs.

So you are saying the stories that Karoel has told us, about The Children of The Prophecy, are really about us? Alex was still trying to make sense of it all.

I know it sounds crazy, Alex, but yes. That is exactly what I’m saying, Peter replied, yawning.

The twins went down to breakfast early—at least as early as they dared. As eager as they were to find out what last night was all about, they also did not want to let their guardians know they had been eavesdropping.

Peter had quickly rushed out into the hall last night, barely in time, as Bairden started up the stairs to retire. He had to replace the pot of dried flowers used to prop open the door during their brief period of lawlessness. No one noticed the dried flowerpot was now on the opposite side of the landing from where it had been yesterday.

Good morning, Molensa, the twins chimed together, as they entered the kitchen.

Good morning, dears, their guardian answered cheerfully. There was nothing unusual in the way she carried herself to give away the events of the night before. Would you like a hot breakfast today? There are no lessons, you know. She asked the same question and made the same statement every day there were no lessons.

Neither twin was hungry. They were both too excited to eat, but they decided it best to follow along and not do anything unusual.

Yes, please, Alexandra answered for both of them, continuing the ritual, a hot breakfast would be very nice, thank you. There is quite a chill in the air this morning. It is getting to be more like autumn all the time.

As the children sat down to a breakfast of cinnamon-flavored porridge, punctuated with slices of apples, fresh baked bread with blackberry jam, and juice from the manito tree in their garden, Peter asked, barely able to contain himself, Where’s Bairden this morning? Is he not joining us for breakfast?

Molensa casually looked up from the breadboard, where she was making black bread for the afternoon meal.

He has gone to the lord’s keep, she offered, to make arrangements with the Master Stone Cutter for a trip to the eastern marble quarries. The local marble is not coming in at a very high grade, and the king has commissioned a new table for his throne room. The eastern quarries have opened a vein of blue-green stone, and Bairden will need to approve it for quality before it can be shipped here for working.

The room was silent for a moment when Molensa asked, Are both of you wearing your pendants today?

Yes, ma'am, Peter answered absently. They always wore their silver-green pendants. Every day of their lives since both of them could remember. This was the only rule the two of them never violated. Neither twin really knew why, since they stretched nearly every other rule in the house. Why would she ask?

Alexandra glanced meaningfully at Peter before speaking next. Are we all going to the quarries together this time? The Harvest is beginning, and there will be no more lessons for a few weeks.

No, dear, Molensa answered in the same unassuming tone. "You and Peter will be helping Brother Cadresean get the Abbey in shape for an inspection by His Holiness the Archbishop during the Harvest Festival, and then you two will be going on to the Abbey at Caergana across the lake to study for several weeks. Neither of you will be working the Harvest this season.

"He has agreed to pay you full wages if you work hard, plus room and board. We can use the extra money to lay in provisions for the winter. I will be traveling east with Bairden, and the monks will take care of you while we are away.

Brother Cadresean will be here shortly to pick you up. I've packed a travel bag for each of you, sitting there by the kitchen door.

Well, this made no sense at all to either of the twins, and Peter was about to open his mouth and object to needing anyone to take care of them.

"Come on, Peter. We need to go somewhere and talk, Alex said. We have to figure out what is really going on here."

Chapter 6

I t must be us they were talking about, Peter stated, as he and Alexandra walked absently toward the little stream running behind their cottage. When they said The Chosen Ones who else could they have meant?

I don’t know, Alexandra retorted, but why send us to the Abbey this afternoon if we are supposed to be leaving tonight? And why not just tell us we are going with Karoel if we are not going to leave with them?

Yes, Peter continued for her. Molensa even said that she and Bairden will be traveling to the eastern quarries, at least we heard that part correctly last night. But why not prepare us for a journey if we are going away as well?

Alexandra dropped sullenly to the ground beside the little stream. Peter propped himself lightly against a rock facing the smoothly running water.

If it isn’t us, Peter started slowly, then we have to go along and help out with whatever danger that Molensa and Bairden are in. We can’t just let them go off into the night and disappear. We have to go with them either way.

He was proud he had thought of this. He wasn’t about to be left out of any adventure if he could help it.

I don’t know what to think, Peter, his sister answered. If they wanted us to go with them, surely they would have said something. If we go with them uninvited, we will just be an extra burden.

Alexandra did not share her brother’s lust for adventure. She would rather read about a dangerous quest then ever attempt one herself.

A long silence ensued that took both twins away into separate worlds. The soft sounds of water lapping against the rocks in the stream brought an answer to Peter’s lips.

Karoel! he almost burst as he shouted the name. Karoel will tell us. He will know exactly what is going on. Isn’t he supposed to take The Children to wherever it is they are going? We still have hours before we are supposed to go to the Abbey, let’s go ask him! And besides—he hurriedly added—the mysterious travelers stayed with Karoel in his cabin. They might even still be there. We can be there in less than half an hour if we run!

Wait, Peter. Brother Cadresean is going to be here soon. We cannot go off to visit Karoel.

We need to be fast! This will be our only chance to go, Sis. Come on!

Peter was suddenly as excited as a child on his naming day. There was no way Alexandra could refuse him. The pair struck off through the trees toward the woodcutter’s cabin. They took a path that cut straight through the heart of the forest, avoiding the road that rounded the marsh that was the headwaters of the little farm stream. This well-traveled path, which they traversed on countless visits to see their friend and hear his stories, might well have saved their lives today.

Chapter 7

Even before Peter and Alexandra arrived at Karoel’s cabin, they could sense something was wrong. The normal plume of light blue smoke that spoke of the frugality of the cooking fire within was missing. In its place was a billowing, writhing column of angry black and gray that served simultaneously to hide and reveal the awful reality of the destruction in the clearing.

By the Gods, Peter, Alexandra whispered as they stepped into the clearing where the proud little cabin once stood. What could have possibly happened here?

I don’t know, Peter answered, a slightly glazed look in his eyes, but whatever happened, I can say that it was not an accident, and whoever caused it has not been long away. Look over there!

He pointed rigidly to a broad cedar tree that stood near the roadway leading to the cabin. Pinned to the tree at about the height of a man on horseback were the bloody remains of what appeared to be two small men.

By the gruesome look of things, they had been stripped of clothing and then pinned to the tree with a pair of short swords; one each had been thrust through their upper arms while they were still alive. In some unimaginable form of torture, they were hacked at repeatedly until they were both quite dead and totally unrecognizable.

Dark swatches of blood ran down the tree from what remained of their bodies, pooling and congealing in the now red-black earth at the base of the tree. Bits and pieces of former body parts added to the muck that was stirred up by the hooves of many horses. The stench of death was awful, and to Peter, a little exhilarating.

Alexandra fell to the ground and retched when she realized what that macabre scene before them held. Peter forced himself to walk slowly closer to the execution tree. A sort of morbid curiosity had set in at his first real experience with death. What an ugly sort of death it must have been, if any sort of violent death can be otherwise. The victims must have screamed terribly before the end. He should have been more horrified by the sight, he knew that, but it was more fascinating than frightening for the boy.

Alex, Peter said softly, when he returned to her side a few moments later. She was still on her hands and knees, now dry heaving from the lack of anything still in her stomach. Neither one of them was Karoel, I am pretty sure. He swallowed hard and continued, I think they were both ... Elves. They were small and had pointed ears, at least what was left of them, and their hair was golden in color under all that blood. These were in the bushes next to them, they must have been wearing them ... before ... before they ... He held up two finely woven hooded cloaks that shimmered in the morning light filtering through the trees. The color of the traveling cloaks was not fully distinguishable, each seeming to shift ever so slightly in hue as the light struck it at different angles. One of them had a gash in the shoulder, still damp with the blood of its wearer.

Oh, Peter, what's going on? sobbed Alex. Where is Karoel? Is he ... is he dead too? By the Gods, what do we do now?

What they had to do next was obvious, at least to Peter. They had to take down the mutilated bodies of the Elves, if indeed they were Elves, and bury them properly. Although he had no idea what a proper burial really meant, he knew enough to be sure that hanging from a tree in the forest next to the now smoldering remains of a woodsman’s cabin was not proper for any man ... or Elf.

Alexandra managed to harden herself to the task at hand, and between the two of them, they lowered the remains of the small bodies to the ground and proceeded to dig two graves. These had to be shallow graves, as they only had the short swords to dig with, and besides, neither of them wanted to remain for very long near this place.

When the graves had been dug near the horse-trampled location that was once the vegetable garden and the bodies had been wrapped in the remains of their clothing and carefully lowered into the holes, Peter held the two Elven cloaks in his arms and hesitated.

Alex? Peter asked, looking across the graves at his blood- and grime-covered sister. Do you think we should bury these along with the bodies?

What? Alexandra asked absently.

Should we bury the cloaks with their owners? It seems a shame to place such fine garments into a hole in the ground. Besides, you never know when something like this may come in handy. If these are truly made by Elves, they might be magical or—

Oh, Peter, just stop it! I don’t care what you do with those stupid cloaks. If they are magic, they certainly didn’t help their owners any. Can’t we just get out of here!

I’m ... I’m sorry, Alex, Peter said, I ... Why don’t you go back down the trail to the stream and clean yourself up. I’ll finish here and be along in a few minutes.

Alexandra turned and walked slowly back down the trail through the woods. She was still in shock over the sight in the clearing, and her head was spinning with the events of the past twelve hours. If she had not walked this trail a thousand times before, she might have wandered off into the woods and been lost. For a moment, she thought she heard her name called by a woman. The voice was faint and she looked around confused, but no one was there.

Peter bundled one of the short swords together with the Elven cloaks and placed them aside. He finished filling in the shallow graves and said a few words to help guide the souls of their new occupants to The Trinity, if indeed that was where Elven souls went after they died.

In a final, vain effort to find something that might help him decide what to do next, Peter walked through the now burned out remains of the woodsman’s cottage. In one corner of what had been the kitchen, there was a long thin bundle wrapped tightly in cloth that, although still smoldering, appeared to have survived the inferno.

Peter brought the charred bundle out onto the grass and carefully laid it open. Inside were a gleaming white short bow and a fletch of equally brilliant white arrows. I never knew Karoel to use a bow, Peter thought out loud. The bow was loosely strung with a single thin strand of extremely strong cord. He carefully added these new treasures to his bundle of cloaks and sword and took off down the trail to catch up to his sister. You never know when something like this may come in handy, he found himself saying for the second time today.

Peter stopped once, a short way into the trees, thinking he heard something stirring behind him. A hard look back at the clearing and the smoking wreckage of the cabin revealed nothing, so Peter turned again and was off after his sister.

Chapter 8

Their long walk out of the woods was in complete silence. The twins had scrubbed the dirt and dried blood from their skin and clothing in the refreshing waters of the Silver Stream, but the bath had done nothing to cleanse their thoughts of the horrible events that had taken place at Karoel’s cabin. Alexandra did not notice Peter was toting a bundle of strangely colored cloth.

As the two of them finally cleared the trees, Peter stopped suddenly in his tracks.

Alex, Peter almost whispered in alarm. If the reason that Karoel’s house was burned and those two ... Elves ... were killed was because of the meeting in our house last night, the people who did this might have also have known of the meeting. His eyes were wide and the color had drained from his cheeks.

RUN! Peter, RUN! Alexandra seemed to suddenly snap out of a dream. We must get home! Molensa and Bairden might be in danger. Oh, RUN, Peter!

She was already twenty steps ahead of her brother through the wispy brown grass and soft white daisies when Peter finally made his legs react to the pounding in his heart.

Oh by the Gods, Alexandra voiced wordlessly. If anything has happened to them while we were away ... Oh, why do I let you drag me all over creation, Peter!

When the house finally came into view, nothing at first appeared to be out of the ordinary. There was no plume of black, writhing smoke reaching up to the heavens. There were no bodies skewered to the trees that lined the lane. No armored horsemen were hacking and slashing at helpless victims until all that was life in them drained out and soaked into the earth.

All that there was, was silence.

Molensa! Bairden! Alexandra burst into the house through the outside door to the kitchen. Molensa! Molensa!

There was no answer to Alexandra’s cries. No one was here, no one at all. Peter flew through the door behind her, red faced and completely out of breath. His ears were pounding with the racing of his heart, so loudly he could not have heard anyone answer Alexandra’s cries if there was anyone there to reply.

Whe-heh-where? Wha-ha-what? was all he managed to say before he dropped his hands to his knees and tried to catch his breath. He was panting and gasping for air like some wild beast after a race for its life. He slid his bundle off his shoulders and onto the pine board floor.

The inside of the house appeared as if it had been ravaged by a whirlwind. The kitchen table and chairs were overturned and sprawled across the floor. One of the chairs was badly broken, its legs splintered and thrust upward at odd angles. Everything in the room was lightly dusted with flour that had been scattered from the morning's baking. The heavy door between the kitchen and the main room of the house had been dragged down from its hinge pins to lay off-kilter across the opening, partially obscuring what lay beyond.

What was through that doorway, in the main room of the house, was not spared from whatever had nearly annihilated the kitchen. The shelves lining the outside walls had all been cleared; the once neat rows of books and the carefully displayed knickknacks lay scattered and broken throughout the room. The drawers from the oak desk where Molensa kept the household records were unceremoniously upended, their contents hopelessly unsorted on the wooden floor among the shards of crystal and pottery that once held memories of places and people visited through the years.

Peter, this looks like blood! Alexandra cried out, bending over a slowly drying stain by the door. Oh by the Gods! Molensa! Bairden!

Hold on a minute, Sis, Peter replied calmly. We don’t know for sure that anything has happened to them. This could be anything. It doesn’t have to be blood. And besides, Bairden is off with the Master Stone Cutter, and Molensa is ... Molensa is ...

The two children looked at each other and panic set in again. They raced across the broken room and dashed up the stairs, taking two at a time. The upstairs sleeping chambers were as ravaged as the rest of the house, with all the doors either wrested from their hinges or otherwise severely battered. Nothing had escaped whatever demons of destruction had been here.

Clothing was rent apart and heaped in the corners of each room, as if the damage had been done in a search for something of importance that may have been sewn into the lining of a winter cloak or the inseam of a pair of riding breeches. Nothing was left undamaged or not searched.

The twins went through every room, including the root cellar beneath the kitchen floor, searching for a sign Molensa and Bairden had escaped before the wreckage had begun. They were satisfied only that the two were not lying dead or dying in some corner of the cottage.

The twins walked out to the barn and observed the level of damage that had taken place inside the house, had not been exercised out here. Although there were obvious signs the building had been searched, and there was no trace of any of the livestock that should have been in the pens, the barn had come through with only minor damage.

Peter, do you hear that? Alexandra asked suddenly.

Hear what?

Horses, at least three of them, maybe four. It must be Bairden and Molensa come back for us.

Alexandra turned and started back for the barn door when her brother grabbed her hard by the arm and pulled her back.

No, Alex! he cautioned. It might be the ones who did this, come back to finish the job they started. Up to the loft, quickly.

Reluctantly at first, desperately needing to believe the riders on the lane were friends, she finally gave in and climbed into the hay loft. They crossed over to the sliding door that offered a view into the barnyard below. The horsemen were still too far away to see or hear them, thanks to Alexandra’s early warning, so they slid open the door and proceeded to bury themselves in the loose hay just below the opening.

Corporal Harlen! a rough voice bellowed out from below.

Yes, Captain, one of the riders snapped in return.

Take two soldiers and search the barn and the other outbuildings. Sergeant, you bring the other men and come with me to the house.

Three horses continued steadily toward the barn, as the other riders dismounted and stepped up to the porch of the now disemboweled cottage.

"There are at least seven of them, Alex, Peter silently chided his sister, you only counted three."

At least I heard them before they were on top of us, Alex answered him curtly, and out loud. If we had waited until you heard them, we would have been back out in the yard already and been found out for sure.

I wish I had my bow, or at least my new sword, Peter added. I left them on the floor in the kitchen!

What are you talking about? What bow? she questioned. And what would you do if you had a bow or a sword, leap down and fight seven armed soldiers on horseback? You would end up just like the dead Elves in the forest.

The three riders dismounted and entered the barn below the twins. The stall doors were being thrown open, and the barrels of grain and fodder were steadily turned on to their sides.

Private, the one called Harlen ordered, check the loft.

Oh my God, Peter, there is no place to go! Alexandra whimpered. We are caught for sure!

As the soldier reached the top of the ladder, the captain called out to Corporal Harlen from the house.

Hold on, Corporal. The mark has been carved into the door here. This place has already been searched, and not in a very tidy manner from what I can see. Must have been King's Elite who were ahead of us this morning. Mount up and let’s get on to the next house.

Just as well, the one called Harlen muttered under his breath, walking back into the light through the wide barn door. I don’t like this matter one bit. He continued his remarks a bit louder now. Why we have mustered the entire garrison to search for two children is beyond me. You would think that they were worth more than all the gold in the realm the way that Bannis fellow is conducting this search. What did they do to make them so darned important, anyway?

I don’t know and I don’t care, replied the captain coldly. We will search every house surrounding the village as we were ordered. The sooner we get through this, the sooner we can get things back to normal around here. Now mount up and let’s get on with it.

Borgen! Harlen called up to the man in the loft, Let’s go! This place has already been searched, and the brats are gone already.

The soldier had been two steps from the rigid bodies of the terrified twins, covered too loosely with straw to really hide effectively in the dimly lit loft. He was methodically prodding the lumpy piles of dried grasses with the tip of his sword in an attempt to ferret out anyone who might be hiding there. The children’s breathing had stopped, and both were sure the soldier would hear the pounding of their hearts—or else stab them squarely in the back—when the order from below turned him from his search.

"By the Gods! Peter said to his sister. By the Gods."

After the soldiers left and the sounds of their horses had faded away, Peter and Alexandra climbed down from the loft and swiftly crossed the yard to the rear door of the cottage. They went back inside and stood for a moment, staring at the mess that used to be their tidy little kitchen.

Peter, I am terribly afraid, Alexandra said softly, sitting on a chair she had rescued from the disorder, while stroking absently at the pendant hanging from its fine gold chain around her neck.

I’m scared too, Sis, but we have to get out of here and find Bairden and Molensa, he said and then added solemnly, that is if they are still alive.

Peter sat across the now upright table from his sister, fingering the short sword he pulled from his bundle on the floor. He had not noticed earlier that it was extremely lightweight and had not one scratch on either its handle or blade; both were as smooth and highly polished as if they had been newly forged, and this after serving as a shovel used to bury its former owner.

If we cannot find them, Peter said now absently, we must continue on to Alpenvail ourselves, to meet ... to meet with the Council or whatever. It’s what they would have wanted, what they were trying to do.

Alpenvail! moaned Alexandra. How will we ever find our way to an Elven city that does not even exist! Alpenvail is part of a fairytale that men like Karoel tell to children to make their eyes pop out. And besides, Peter, we don’t even know if we are The Children that all this fuss is about. For all we know, we are late to our Harvest Festival jobs at the Abbey and Brother Cadresean is starting to worry about us already. Bairden and Molensa could be well on the road to the eastern quarries, just like they said they were going to do. We are the only ones who are not where we are supposed to be.

Alex, there are no other options. We must be The Children they were talking about. Don’t you see? We cannot go to the Abbey. The woman we heard at the meeting last night made that clear. If we go to any abbey, we will certainly be caught, and most likely turned over to the soldiers who burned down Karoel’s house and killed those two Elves.

You don’t know that soldiers burned Karoel’s cabin. It might have been robbers, or outlaws, or even, even ... And those two men were not Elves. You don't know that. They could have been just small men ... could have been ... her voice trailed off as the truth of Peter’s statement hit home.

Besides, Peter continued, Brother Cadresean was one of the men at the meeting here last night. If the soldiers knew about Karoel, they certainly must have known about him. The Abbey is definitely out of the question.

It took the better part of the next hour, but Peter finally convinced Alexandra the only choice was to travel to the east. They agreed they would first go to Hilldale, where they would seek horses and assistance from longtime friends of the family. Here they would hopefully find their guardians on their way to the quarry as planned. If they did not, from there they would make their way to the Eastern Lumin Mountains, where they hoped to find Alpenvail, the city of Elven lore. They talked briefly of Kalystra, but neither of them had any idea where it might be. They at least knew if Alpenvail existed, it was in the Lumin Mountains, although that information would hardly serve as a map.

The more he argued the point, the more convinced Peter became. It all had to be true, he thought. There can be no other meaning to all of this. We are The Children.

If Peter had known exactly what they were in for, he would likely not have been as eager to begin this adventure.

Come on. Let's go now, Peter insisted. We can go hide in the sugar shack down by the stream until dark, but we need to get out of the house before anyone else comes here looking for us.

The contents of the traveling packs Molensa had packed for them earlier that day were spread around the kitchen floor. The twins quickly packed what they needed and went out the kitchen door and across the dooryard to a narrow path that led down to the remote sugar shack. There they waited until dark, talking together about what this all could mean and trying to work out in their heads what was going on around them.

"Alexandra…"

Shhhh. Peter, Alex shushed her brother. I just heard someone call my name. A woman's voice. Sounded like the same woman we heard last night.

Huh? Peter looked at his sister, puzzled. I didn't hear anything.

I swear I heard my name. Almost like you were talking in my head, but with a woman's voice. I thought I heard the same voice when we were at Karoel's cabin. After ... after— She couldn't finish the sentence, the horrible sight of the dead Elves still etched in her mind.

Just that imagination of yours again, Alex.

Shh! Listen. The twins sat quietly. Nothing now. I guess it was just my imagination after all. I'm so jumpy with all that's going on. I don't understand any of this, Peter.

Neither do I, Alex. That's why we need to find someone and get some answers. Something big is happening, I can feel it. I just don't know what it is.

Chapter 9

The pre-dawn climb up one thousand steps from the valley floor to the Pinnacle of the Rising Sun was still invigorating for Fynnteal, even