THE CROWN AND STAFF

 THE CROWN AND STAFF

   The ruling Kings of Eriduah were: Vendumar, Legandriel, Nuthcorlan, and Koral, his son. 

  It came to pass, after the fourth king had died, that his son Gadreel took up the father’s mantel. After the crown was rested upon his brow, King Gadreel stood up and interrupted the traditional ceremony, to the surprise of all. He took hold of the Lord High Priest’s staff, in the presence of that great court, then sat down upon the throne, saying, “Behold, now is the day this noble office shall be declared both King Protector and Lord High Priest as the former is relieved and discharged before the realm. The Protector and Mouthpiece are now one and the same, and henceforth shall be viewed as the physical representation of Eru-Illuvatar before men, their one true Lord.”

   “Blasphemous outrage!” The Lord High Priest shouted at Gadreel before everyone, adding, “Never before in the history of our people nor since the Founders has such been said or done!” With him, the entire court burst into astonished murmuring.

   “GUARDS!” The new king ordered, and immediately his knights snapped to stand before him, and those along the walls stood with swords drawn at the ready. Then the newly ordained Priest-King said, still seated on the great chair, “In three days the realm shall stand where you are now, and as a symbol of their acceptance that person, one at a time shall offer up a pinch of sweet incense. However, if they, as you refuse, my guards are commanded by the crown to detain them. When all the people of the realm have been offered this opportunity to pay me homage, then those detained shall be given a second chance to keep their heads where they rest. Great and small, three years and up; my word will be obeyed.” The room fell silent, then Gadreel continued, “We come to the example before us, Lord High Priest Wyndryel of Mithar, how shall you honor Eru before the people, this second time?” The king watched as did the silent court.

   Against his will, the former Lord High Priest pulled back the large sleeve of his robe, then sprinkled a pinch of incense upon the hot coals that stood between two knights, before the Priest-King. Wyndryel shook his head with disdain and walked away.

   “That was not so difficult after all, now, was it?” Without a sound uttered, the Priest-King added, “In three days we shall see who desires to play the role of martyr upon this court’s very floor. Begone and tell the populace they have a new wearer of the crown and holder of the staff.” 

  Moments later the hall was emptied of all but the Priest-King and his knights, “Malonus, gratitude, you and your men are dismissed.” 

  The Captain of the Guard yelled the orders, then bowed before Gadreel, “Your, majesty.”

   As the doors shut behind him another opened with the sound of his queen clapping her hands, “Protector and Priest, how impressive, my lord.” She smiled, with a slight head bow, “How long, Gadreel do you think this endeavor of yours shall last?”

   “For as long as I do, I am sure. What say you, Astreva?”

   The eight-year-old girl sitting on a mat beside his throne looked up at him expressionless, answering, “Mine is to record only.” She then resumed making her Scribal notations.

   “Let us see if that is true,” whispered the Queen to her husband, then to Astreva, “Child, obey your King, or by his Queen’s very hand shall we see your head lying before us on the floor.”

   Without urgency, expression, or word the young girl crossed over and sprinkled the incense onto the still burning coals. Astreva resumed her position and took up making notations, again without word or expression.

   “Beautifully done, my dear,” Gadreel said.   “Gratitude, my love,” His wife whispered. 

  “I was speaking to the Scribe.” At which the upset Queen stormed out the door she had entered, leaving the two alone in the quiet hall. 

    Three days later, in the grand meeting hall of tower Varlendur, the Lord High Priest was notably missing from the gathered court. The Overseers, Guardians and all their ministers, Mayors of the seven cities and their administrators, Merchants, Farmers and Fisherman alike; great and small, young, and old came and one by one to pay homage to the new King they called Lord Priest as well. Of all the realm, only one refused the symbolic gesture demanded. A woman with bright red hair stood alone in the realm, undaunted before the throne of the Priest-King.

  “Who is this lone holdout that defies the Lord’s decree,” asked Malonus, the Captain of the Guards.

   “I am Areiah, servant of Eru-Illuvatar, not this imposture who is a mockery before the land.” The woman stood her ground, with no raised voice. 

  Gadreel smiled, then winking at his quiet Queen, “Areiah, my generosity offers you a second chance or the last breath, which shall it be?” The great hall was as silent as a winter’s day, and so was the woman.

   Gadreel signaled a wave, and a block was brought out. The woman was made to kneel, with hands bound behind her back.

“Don’gilfellas!” The captain called for another more skilled in the art. A butcher by trade came forward to be the executioner as the Knight grabbed her red hair to keep the woman from moving away. Gadreel nodded for the act to be carried out and done with. Lifted and swung, as the blade of the two-handed ax fell, heavy upon the large block, the woman vanished. Before that watching crowd, she was gone. The King leaped off his throne even as the smoked ash settled from the air where the woman had knelt just moments before. Gadreel yelled, “WITCH!!!” He ran down to the Captain of the Guards, shaking him by both shoulders, “I do not care who else gets slain, find her or your head will be taken by my hands!” He ran off shouting for his men to follow in compliance with his majesty’s public orders.   

Straightway one hundred-and-twenty armed knights marched to the cliffside village of Sinjar, known for its Witches and Pagan idolatry. Arriving there, the forces of Mithar surrounded even the tents, Malonus called out, “People of Sinjar, by order of the King, surrender the woman Areiah! She is named a traitor of the Crown. Anyone harboring her as well shall suffer her fate.” Ignoring them, the people of the village went about their daily lives as if the soldiers were not even there. Being outraged, the captain shouted a second time as the troops slowly continued to move in. Still, the people ignored the armed forces.

Suddenly the soldiers began hacking away and mascaraing everyone in the tents below as the people began running to the refuge of the caves above. Tents were torched, and none were left alive. By the time the armored men of Mithar had entered the cliffside dwellings reports came to Captain Malonus that Sinjar was empty!

   “Where have all the people are gone? We saw them run for cover-up into these caves.”

   Two men came up to the captain. But his Second in Command insisted, “I can only tell you what we did not find, sir. The people are nowhere to be found. All the homes have been destroyed in search of anyone, not even a child was discovered.” 

  Thinking out loud, Malonus said, “We are hunting for a Witch, one who disappeared before a full court.”

   “You suspect a concealment spell?” Seljon, the Second suggested. 

  “This is why you have the rank you do, my friend. Good work! You, return to the Priest-King and tell him of what has transpired and our thoughts. Tell him also of our need for a priest familiar with such enchantment, for we know they partake of the mystic arts, now go!” 

    An hour and a half later, two riders on horseback arrived. “I am Guardian Gelbrik, a mystic of the Third Circle.” Getting down from his stead he found Malonus. 

  The captain walked the priest to the base of the steps leading up to the carved dwellings, telling him of their suspicion of spell craft, “For there is no other way the entire village entered their homes and not even a child is found, or babe heard crying.” 

  “You are quite correct, and your instincts are rather a wise captain, as well as the man who first told you.” Entering through the first ornately carved, sandstone archway they began to explore the home. Belongings were in complete disarray, “Yes, there is no place to hide here, and you say all the homes are as this very one?” 

“Yes, some smaller, some larger, but none of them with hidden chambers in the floors or ceiling,” Cavon, the Captain’s second said.

   But the priest, Gelbrik smiled, “There! There, is your hidden chamber, and I dare say that every home has this same marking and unobstructed doorway!” He waved his hand across a deeply carved EYE-circled symbol etched in the wall. “These are the sigils of the Cicadites, and their Seers mark for portals,” Gelbrik smiled at knowing something the two men beside him were ignorant of. The priest whispered something several times, each time getting closer to the wall. Just as his lips were almost touching the two soldiers alongside gasped aloud. “LOOK!” 

  Suddenly the stone face of the wall was gone revealing a long, tunneled hallway. Indistinct sounds instantly told the two knights that movements that lay beyond their light betrayed the villager’s location. Soon watches were posted as troops poured in one after another into the dark tunnels. With torches and blades drawn their intentions had already been declared as they continued to pursue the witch Areiah.  

   “Your Majesty.” The Captain of the Guards stood in the doorway of the great chamber.

   “Come, Malonus,” Gadreel, his tone less severe than before. 

  “Sire. The Witch Areiah was nowhere to be found, my Lord.” He could tell the Priest-King was not pleased, “Sire, Sinjar’s tents were burned to the ground, their ashes searched. With the aid of a Mystic priest, we found a wide chambered hall within the Blue mountains deviled deep beyond their carved homes.” 

  “And?”

   “Sire, every man, woman – and babe in arms were put to the blade, your majesty. Seven hundred and fourteen and the witch was not among there, my lord.”

   The King’s eyes remained unimpressed, “Still no witch to be found, Malonus?” 

  “No, my Lord King.”

   “What is to be done to rectify this problem do you think?”

   “I shall pursue her throughout the realm, every hamlet, village, and –“

   “Yes, yes, I know you will, my friend. But let us first cast the other net at our disposal, before your men -.” Gadreel stopped himself as a thought came to mind.

   “Sire?”

   “Through the Brotherhood’s own messengers, the word will be sent. Rest your men, and be well supplied ready to make siege and wholesale  slaughter of the realm one city at a time, so that the people may know –“   At that very moment, a page ran into the room, “My lord, My lord King!”

   “What is it, boy?”   Kneeling, “Sire, the Witch who fled execution, she was witnessed passing along the road from Elosh. She told a woman in her garden, Uhm.”

  “Out with it boy, you are here now, tell me!”   “She said, ‘Tell the Arrogant Apostate on the throne that he himself shall find me at the Standing Stones of Orid.’ My lord, forgive my words.”

   “Gratitude boy, they were not yours,” Gadreel waved the messenger away like a fly over his meal. “Malonus, this one treats me like cat and prey.”   “My lord, perhaps instead she aims for Mount Ipstha?”

   “I – I think not. The dwarves hide their own secrets and have no great love of sorcery themselves. No. No, there is something evasive about the Prophet’s Stones, something akin to her own liking. Make ready and come the morning we shall go to Orid to find this creature and learn its real purpose for defiance.” 

  “Yes, my lord,” The Captain turned to go.

   “Malonus, and no more second chances.”

   “Understood, my king.” 

STORY: Arastat Meets Shay (The First Prophet-Priest)

 

Arastat meets Shay ................................................... Arastat was a Healer from the city of Lindol and his skills were so renowned that he was requested by many throughout the realm of Eriduah. He trained and learned from the likes of Evasun from the river town Elosh. It was from Elosh that he had returned, very exhausted from his long trip on foot. Relaxing in his upstairs bedroom, looking out his window down onto the shoreline beach he was suddenly startled wide awake! On the stretch of sand, he saw a woman dressed in a sheer gown walk out into the thrashing waves all alone. The outgoing tides pulled her under its currents. Arastat jumped to his feet watching in horror. He barely heard the shouting voice of what must have been her calling husband running over a grassy dune. Rushing downstairs and running to the shoreline, Arastat was overwhelmed to see the man carrying out of the frigid waters the limp body of his drowned wife. Arastat arrived as the man collapsed weeping over his loss. Desperately trying everything he could think of to do, the exhausted Healer became distraught. Suddenly the two men looked up watching the overcast night skies roll away as a haloed, full moon was lost among an ocean of innumerable stars that scattered across the velvet black. Ararstat looked the crying man in the eyes and slowly whispered, “I am so sorry, she is gone.” Unable to render aid, Arastat could only watch as the man struggled to his feet with the woman’s limp form in his arms. The silent husband said nothing to the stranger as he left behind him at the water’s edge. When he was gone from sight, Arastat rose to his own feet and stood looking at the now calm water, even as the skies were covered in rolling clouds. He said aloud, “Fickel is the water god Ulmo, and bizarre are his unknown ways.” “Yes. Strange also is the unfolding plans of Eru Himself,” came a voice directly behind Arastat. Startled that he was not alone as he thought, Arastat turned with, “What; where did you come from?” A strange, older bearded man, with one eye looking around, and a half missing ear, said, “I was here, watching you wanting to help that woman come back to life.” Arastat was confused, “She - she was dead before I even arrived.” The stranger corrected him, “She was dead even before she entered the waters,” the odd man’s eye was looking around. “She was,” Arastat was bewildered by such a comment? The stranger explained, “Only a few days ago she lost her only son in childbirth.” “Who are you anyway and how do you know such things?” “Arastat I am Shay, and Eru told me,” the man’s eye was looking up at the haloed moon overhead. “Ah - so - God talks back to you?” Arastat was not interested in religion at the moment. “Do you,” Shay answered with a question of his own? “Well, of - course I do, does not everyone in a crisis? But Eru has never talked back, seems he is like that.” Arastat smirked at such a concept. The stranger persisted, “Are you sure you are talking to Him? Eru has much to say.” Shy’s lone, wandering eye now stared directly back at both of Arastat’s own. “What an odd thing to say,” Arastat sounded indignant. “There were no wild waves when the two left, now were there?” Shay’s look almost demanded an answer in return. “Do people really believe in all the old gods anyway,” Arastast retorted as a turned aside to leave his company? But Shay drew him back with, “They believe in whom they speak with, those same people who expect answers in return.” Then he added when Arastat turned to face him again, “You are a Healer, so where do you think that gift came from? It was not just training and hard work.” “Well - .” Shay cut him off, “Which is what I thought.” “There! You did it again. How do you know such things, like I am a Healer? If your Eru and you talk, and He knows everything why did He not save that woman’s life,” Arastat’s words bit back? “As I said before, ‘she was dead before she even entered the water’, Arastat, Eru knows all things.” The Healer shook his head, “Interesting how the conversations always turn to His favor, too bad it was not in that husband’s favor,” Arastat said, dismissing the last vestiges of any faith in the old gods he may have had remaining. Again he shook his head, turning to leave. But upon a new question, Arastat saw he was alone on the moon-lit stretch of shoreline. ……………….