The Song and the Serpent

Preparations were underway for the evening festivities when Adan arrived at the main hall. The tables had been placed in three long rows that ran down the length of the hall, and benches set beside them.

Baskets of food already lined the tables, most of them covered in cloth to hide and preserve their contents. Adan saw three barrels standing by the entrance and a fourth barrel being carried to join them.

Adan walked through the bustle until he reached the doorway on the left that led down to the Bygone Wall. He would search there before going to his room, in case Kian still remained in the cavern below the citadel.

After descending the steps and following the zig-zagging passage that led to the cavern, Adan finally came to the opening where braziers of fire sat in the center of the floor, and the stone carved images of days past ringed the circular wall. His leg had begun to ache again, but he ignored the pain.

The fires had burned low and the lights were dim. As far as Adan could see, the cavern was empty, but the low light made it hard to be certain.

“Kian?” He shouted, his voice reverberating off the stone.

“I’m here.” The familiar voice came from the opposite wall.

Adan crossed the open space until he could make out the dark figure of Kian standing and gazing at an image on the wall.

“I didn’t know if you’d still be here,” Adan said as he came to stand by Kian.

Kian didn’t reply. He stood silently gazing at the carving before him.

Adan examined the wall before them. The orange light illuminated a horrific scene. Carvings of warriors in battle gear, standing side by side spread across the left view of the image. On the right, facing the warriors, a pack of strange creatures were depicted, rushing toward them.

The creatures were two legged, walking upright as men do, but from the waist up, they resembled demonic animals. Adan saw the faces of wolves, bears, and great cats, snarling and roaring as they rushed the warriors.

“Do you know what this is?” Kian asked.

Adan shook his head.

“This is the story of the Battle of Karthac, when the Army of Pelagus was attacked by northern savages, savages who would later be named the Collvei. All that we know from the battle comes from a scrap of parchment that was found decades later in the northern forests.”

Kian took a handful of steps to the right. Adan followed and they came to the next image in the scene. Adan grimaced when he saw it.

“Pelagus and his men were ambushed one foggy night, deep in the northern forests. More than three fourths of his men were torn apart by the barbarian tribe. Their weapons seemed useless against the demonic strength of the Collvei.

“After the first fight, the attackers withdrew for a short time, taunting their prey and prolonging their deaths. Pelagus and his men were surrounded by howling madmen, outmatched in a northern wasteland, with no help. So what do you think they did?”

Adan looked at Kian expectantly.

“The last words written on the parchment that was found state that they closed ranks together, stood back to back, and prepared to fight to the bitter end, and take as many of the enemy with them as they could.”

Adan looked back at the gory images on the wall. For a long moment, the only sound in the cavern was the crackle of the fire in the brazier.

“This room is filled with stories like this,” Kian said, gesturing around them. “So many battles lost, so many heroes dead, so many glorious ends.”

“We don’t choose when the time comes for us to the meet our Maker,” Adan said.

“Perhaps not all of us,” said Kian.

“None of us should. Those men didn’t decide the time of their deaths. But they did decide to meet thier end as men.”

Kian remained thoughtfully silent.

“The feast will begin soon,” Adan said after a long moment. ”We should wash up.”

Kian nodded and turned away from the stone wall.

The two of them made their way back through the passage and up the stairs that led to the main hall, which was now bursting with people putting the finishing touches on the arrangements for the evening.

They passed the teeming hall, crossing to the doorway that led up the stairs and to their own room. Adan pushed through the throbbing in his leg as they climbed the stairs. Working with Layla in the field had done his wound no favors.

“Kian, what exactly do you plan to do?” Adan asked once he was certain they were alone.

“What do you think?”

“I think you’re going to take command of the city and call for a march to Threcalax.”

They arrived at the door that blocked the entrance to their room and Adan grabbed ahold of the old wooden partition and hauled it out of their way.

“You don’t approve?” Kian asked as he passed into the room.

”Of the former? Yes. Of the latter… I’m not certain.”

A large bowl of fresh water sat in the room, and Adan and Kian removed their coats and shirts, stripping down to their trousers.

“You don’t want to leave Layla,” Kian said, before cupping water in his hands and splashing it over his head and face.

“Of course I don’t,” Adan said. “But that isn’t….”

“I released you from your oath,” Kian continued. “If you don’t wish to follow me, you don’t have to.”

”My oath stands, despite your efforts to be rid of me,” Adan said, anger creeping into his voice. “It is because of my oath that I am speaking my mind. I don’t want to leave Layla, even a fool could see that. But if you decide to ride to war against Hugo, I will follow you whether you like it or not, even if no one else does. So let’s have no more talk of me being released from my oath.”

Adan doused himself in the clean water, and Kian handed him a cloth for wiping the excess away.

“Don’t stop now,” Kian said, reaching for the oil. “Speak your mind.”

Adan contemplated his next words carefully. “Why do you want to ride to war?”

Kian’s brows furrowed. “What kind of question is that? Because we were invaded. Because our enemy should be stopped. Because it’s our duty.”

Adan nodded slowly. “And that’s the only reason?”

”What other reason could there be?”

Kian handed the bottle of oil to Adan and their eyes met.

“I have lost my parents too Kian,” Adan said. “I know what it does to you. I know what I would want.”

Kian turned away, retrieving his shirt and coat from the bed. ”Then why don’t you come out and say it?”

“I would want to find a way to end the suffering,” Adan said. “I would want to join those who I lost. And what better way to do it than dying while striking back at those who caused the suffering in the first place?”

“And what is wrong with that?”

“There’s nothing wrong with wanting justice and vengeance, and as one who holds the lordship, you would have every right to punish those who have wronged you. But if you make yourself the lord of the city, you will have another duty as well: To care for and protect those under you.”

Kian was silent as they dressed, his back turned to Adan.

“Everyone seems very certain of the right thing to do,” Adan continued. “Hurst and the leaders think we should stay here. You and Corthenu think we should leave and go to war. I may be the only one who you’ve spoken with who is torn between my desire to fight the Undelmans and my loyalty to everyone here, including you.”

“What do you think I should do?” Kian said in a quiet voice.

Adan sighed. “I am not certain of the right way forward, Kian. I will follow you whatever you decide. I’m only concerned with the reasons behind your decision.”

Having donned his shirt and coat, Kian stood motionless, still facing away from Adan.

“Thank you for speaking openly,” he finally said as he turned to face Adan. His eyes were hollow, as if devoid of emotion; the eyes of a dead man walking.

Adan nodded in response.

“We should go down,” Kian said, turning back to the open doorway and passing through.

Adan stood still in the little room, feeling as though he may as well have spoken to the stone wall across from him. Kian was closed off now, and Adan’s words of concern seemed to have fallen on deaf ears.

I should have spoken about this sooner, he berated himself. It’s too late now. His mind has been made up for too long.

Adan gave a small sigh before following Kian into the passage and down to the feast below.

Light and warmth emanated from the hall.

Adan and Kian passed under the arch and found the great room fit to burst with Estans. All the city seemed to have come for the feast, and there wasn’t enough room for most of the people to sit.

Fires had been lit in the aisles between three long rows of tables, and whisps of smoke floated up until escaping through the roofless ceiling, billowing into the pink evening sky. Baskets full of food lined the tables, most of them covered by cloths and rags. No one had eaten yet, and the smell of steaming meat and vegetables filled the air. Steins and mugs had been filled with mead from the barrels stacked along the wall, and pleasant chatter filled the cool air.

Opposite the hall entrance, on the far side of the room, a handful of men and women gathered on a raised platform that used to be a dais. Adan saw drums, lutes, mandolas, and whistles ready to be played.

“I doubt there’s a seat available,” Kian said, looking at the crammed tables. ”Standing room only for late comers.”

Adan scanned the room for Layla, not immediately seeing her among those gathered.

“Kian! Adan!” A man’s voice rang out over the cacophony of voices.

They glanced to their right and saw Samo coming toward them along the wall with a hand raised.

“Samo,” Kian said, moving toward the bard.

“We’ve saved a seat for you this way,” he said, gesturing toward the dais. “Those who formed the wall outside the city have been given seats of honor.”

Adan and Kian followed Samo to the far side of the great hall where they found four tables sitting perpendicular to the other rows, near the dais. Many of the Othelli warriors filled the benches along the tables, including Arfon. Adan also saw Hammund, Fin, Nolt, and Bolf sitting nearby.

They found empty seats near their companions.

“Where’s Corthenu?” Kian asked as he sat beside Hammund.

“I don’t know,” Samo said. “He must not have arrived yet.”

Kian’s brow furrowed but he didn’t inquire further.

Adan gave one more look over the heads of the gathered crowd before sitting down. He couldn’t find Layla in the mass of people gathered in the hall, but he knew he might miss her as well.

Maybe she’ll know to come this way, he thought.

Two steins full of mead sat on the table for Adan and Kian, and they both drank from the sweet draught.

Three silent sips later, Adan saw most of the village leaders, including Fagus, making their way toward the dais. Adan noted that Corthenu was not among them. Each of the leaders held a cup in one hand, presumably full of mead.

The leaders tromped up the two steps that led up to the dais and stood in a line facing the crowd. The murmur of the crowd subsided and an expectant silence filled the air.

“Tonight,” Fagus called out, “we celebrate our victory over the Undelmans in the battle last night!”

”Here! Here!” Many voices said in return.

”We kept the enemy at bay,” Fagus shouted, “and not one warrior will return to give Hugo news of our location!”

A chorus of cheers.

“We thank the Maker for preserving and protecting us, we thank the Othelli, and those who accompanied them outside the wall to stop their retreat…”

More cheers.

“…But most of all, we honor those who gave their lives in protection of this place, and everyone in it. Their sacrifice will be honored tonight.”

Fagus lifted his cup in the air, and everyone in the hall who held a mug or stein mimicked his action.

“To the fallen,” he said.

A muted series of ‘here, here’s’ was followed by a moment of long silence as everyone drank in honor of the slain.

“Let the feast begin!” Another leader shouted after everyone had finished their drink.

The musicians behind the leaders and governors struck up a lively tune, and their music combined with the sounds of talking, eating, laughing and feasting.

The cloth covering the baskets and platters of food was removed, revealing roasted venison, chickens cooked with vegetable, steaming bread and butter and stacks of cheeses. No plates sat on the tables. Everyone ate directly off the platters, sharing whatever food sat near them.

Adan abstained from filling his stomach completely, despite his ravenous hunger. The food was plentiful, but the crowd of hungry Estans was innumerable. Adan noticed Kian eating very little as well, although he did not abstain from draining his mead stein in extraordinary fashion.

“I’m going to get another,” Kian said, standing and taking his stein with him.

“Lord Kian is enjoying our mead, I see,” Hammund said, watching Kian head toward the barrels on the far side of the hall.

“It is well brewed,” Adan said, taking another sip of the crisp liquor. “You honor us by sharing so much of your stores.”

Hammund nodded. “Enjoy what you see tonight. I’m afraid we will all have to tighten our belts in the future.”

“Why so?”

Hammund looked up at the evening sky. “It hasn’t rained for a week, and I don’t see any signs of precipitation coming soon. I fear we may be in the beginning of a drought.”

Adan felt fear settle in the pit of his stomach, chasing away any remnants of hunger that may have been left. A drought could be the difference between survival and starvation.

“Then let us hope the Creator sends an unexpected storm,” Samo said. “Where I am from, nearer the mountains, storms can arise out of nowhere and come roaring down the valleys.”

“Where are you from, Samo?” Hammund asked.

Samo was deep in his description of Estanik, the small northern village where he had always lived, when Kian returned with another stein full of mead. He was followed by Layla and Matilda, the former leading the latter by the arm. Adan stood when he saw them coming, and offered them an empty spot on the bench next to him.

Layla gave Adan a meaningful look before sitting down beside him. Adan didn’t know if her mind was on the kiss they had shared, or Adan’s conversation with Kian, or a combination of both.

After helping Matilda onto the bench, the two of them sat down beside one another.

Kian remained standing, his eyes drawn to something in the crowd.

“What are you looking at?” Adan asked, trying to see over the heads of the throng.

“I think the Chief Bard may have something to share,” Kian replied, gesturing into the crowd.

Adan stood to gain a better vantage point and spotted Hurst walking through the crowd carrying a large leather wrapped bundle. Adan immediately recognized the shape of the package. His father had carried a similar bundle in days gone by.

The crowd parted for Hurst as passed through, allowing him passage to the dais. When he had finally mounted the steps, the musicians already playing ended their song and withdrew, leaving the Chief Bard alone on the platform. A hush fell over the hall as all eyes turned toward him.

“Brethren and fellows,” Hurst began in a grave voice, “ladies and maidens, young and old, give ear what I shall tell you…”

When Hurst had finished the traditional introduction, he grasped the leather bundle and unwrapped the golden harp that had been concealed within.

“...For I shall sing of the fall of Farel, the pride of Esta.”

Kian stiffened and set his drink on the table. Adan turned away from his food, giving his full attention to the bard on the dais.

Hurst found a bench to sit on and placed the harp on his lap, leaning it back against his shoulder. Then he reached out and began plucking the strings, quietly at first. The haunting melody echoed through the hall. Then the Chief Bard began to sing, and Adan was struck by the surprising sweetness of the old man’s voice:

“The clouds o'er shadowed misty morn,

The creeping river flowing gray,

The biting wind carried and horn

Blast sounding o’er the hills that day.

A bastian by the river stood,

A monument of western might,

With white high walls and banners high:

Farel, gleaming everbright.”

The notes of the harp grew louder as Hurst plucked with practiced grace and speed. His tenor voice filled the hall as he continued

“The sound of fast approaching war

Came to the men atop the wall.

The clamor of the men of death

Appeared to herald Farel’s fall.

A shout from out the city rang!

A cry went up, as warriors roared!

The flash of spears and shields was seen

As they defied the Serpent’s horde.

Then riding on his stallion black,

Out of the mist and swirling dark,

Commander Hugo came at last.

His broadsword swung in gleaming arc.

A clamor and a rush of men,

The ring of steel and arrow flight

Came crashing down like hammer blows

And striking like the lightning bright.”

Hurst’s voice rose to a high and piercing note as he played ferociously on the harp.

“The battle raged on Farel’s wall

As dark and light, till Hugo’s Ire

Unquenchable, brought Farel’s fall

When summoned he the searing fire.

So perished Farel, tall and pure

To Sithril's all consuming wroth.

A burning field is what remains

Still smoldering in fiery swath.”

With a final strum, Hurst pulled both his hands away from the instrument and took a deep breath before continuing the song in a low voice.

“Though low she lays her voices call

To all her sons who yet remain

To end the wave of Hugo’s fire

And save us from the tyrant’s reign.”

The last note faded into silence and the hall was left in somber reflection as Hurst lowered his head.

Adan wiped a tear from his eyes, and gritted his teeth. The song had given him the urge to seek out and kill Hugo and every Undelman warrior that still breathed.

Hurst finally looked up and made eye contact with both Kian and Adan before giving both of them a respectful nod. He had not written that song for the crowd.

They nodded their thanks to him.

Hurst picked up a cup he had carried with him onto the dais and lifted it high.

“To the fallen,” he said.

“To the fallen,” the crowd repeated, before draining their cups.

Kian took his seat beside Adan as Hurst left the dais and musicians returned to their places and began a new song. Conversation buzzed in the hall once more.

“I still cannot believe it’s gone,” Layla said. “It hits me sometimes. It makes me feel like I’ve missed a step in the dark.”

Adan nodded without a word. He looked at Kian beside him, and saw the same fire in his eyes that raged inside Adan.

“They must pay,” Kian whispered, so low that Adan barely heard him.

“They will,” Adan replied.

Kian looked away and stared ahead into space.

He’s made up his mind, Adan thought. He’s only waiting for Corthenu now.