Published by Lugh on 10 Jul 2007 at 10:15 pm
Prelude
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Bloody Dune Pregnant Moon 1. Prologue / Chapter One |
The silver headed King of the Wind Folk paced expectantly in his bedroom. His wife lay sprawled among the blankets, the bulge of her belly bearing proof there would soon be an heir. She was petite like most of the Wind Folk, and her colors ran to the light side. Silver tresses hung in tendrils covering her nudity in trails he loved to trace while making love. Her dark, rose brown nipples, contrasting sharply with the alabaster of her milk swollen breasts, peeked out from between the sweat dampened strands as they parted for her swollen abdomen. Dark purple blood vessels could be seen under her skin carrying life through her body to the babe within.
“It will be all right, Aralin.” Parya comforted him. “Who ever they are they can not attack us if we do not leave the Home Lands.”
“The Moon Bridge will be open in hours. We are vulnerable,” He ran his hand through his hair again. He did it often when he was worried about something even though he knew Parya would scold him if he continued. To stop he sat on the edge of the bed and placed one hand lightly on his wife’s belly. “I do not like it when my people are disappearing, what if something happened to you? Or to the little one here? Even the Runners are frightened.”
“Nonra has said nothing of this to me.” Parya rested her hand on top of his.
“Thuer has been keeping much from her. She’s as near to delivery as you are.” He sighed. “He does not want to upset her any more than I want to upset you, but I feel that you have the right to know we are riding with the Out Riders this bridging.” He watched her for a reaction and received nothing more than a terse nod. It was as he expected. She would bear his burden on her shoulders if he placed it there. She was a good Queen.
A sharp rap on the door broke the silence. Aralin pulled a sheet over his wife to keep her state of undress from the eyes of anyone who may enter. When he was done, he called out, “Enter.”
The door opened and a slip of a lad entered. “Your Highness, Capitan Gelary awaits.” He squeaked, his nervousness showing in his voice.
“Thank you, Pwen.” The lad bobbed his head causing his golden curls to shake around his face. “And, Pwen, tell your dam to trim that mane before you next report for duty.”
“Yes, Sire, though it will break her heart.” He bobbed again and backed out of the door.
“You make that lad’s life miserable, Aralin.” Parya laughed. “His hair is not that long.” She tugged Aralin’s long locks where they were bound in a thong at the back of his neck. “I think you are jealous of his curls.”
“I think it’s none of your business, wife.” He leaned over and kissed her lips, then down her neck, pushing back the sheet that covered her nudity to kiss her abdomen. “Besides, if I were truly jealous, I’d order him to shave his head not just have it trimmed.”
“You would too.” She laughed again. “Come back to me.”
“I will.” Aralin smiled at her. She was young and beautiful, perfect in everyway, and headstrong to boot. “You make sure there is something for me to come back to, fair deal?”
Parya nodded, “I will.”
Aralin kissed her again, then stood and straightened his riding leathers. There was nothing on his person to show he was the King of the Wind Folk, but there was no denying it either. He carried an air of authority with him as he moved toward the door as had his father before him. It was part of the passage of adulthood the Heirs of the Wind took on when they Mastered the Winds.
The wooden door moved easily on it’s hinges and he passed through, closing it securely behind him. He knew Parya’s women would be in to assist her in dressing shortly and she would not be alone, but he still worried over her and his child.
Striding quickly down the hall in his no nonsense manner, Aralin entered the great hall a few minutes later. Gelary stood waiting near the door with several other Riders. The man was dark for a Wind Rider and smaller of stature than most, but he controlled the Out Riders with a military precision unseen of before in the ranks, and that pleased Aralin.
“The Riders are assembled, Sire.” Gelary clipped the words as he spoke them.
“Well then we best not keep them waiting. Has the Bridge opened?”
“No, Sire, but moonrise is immanent.”
Aralin nodded and strode out the hall. The others would follow in their own order. Thuer stood waiting in the ward among the other Runners. He was large, over twenty hands as the horsemen of the Below Lands measured, and broader than a warhorse. Only Thuer would never carry the heavy armor of the warhorse, he had been born to bear a Rider. Aralin moved toward him, and Thuer turned.
[Thuer]::Greetings, Milk Brother. How goes thy mate?::
“My mate is well. Thank you for inquiring. How is Nonra?”
::She worries. The unborn need thy fathers says she to me.::
“Parya says the same.”
::The others are capable, Milk Brother, send them.::
“Ah, if only it were that simple.”
::It is, but I know thee will not.::
“No, I will not. If it’s as bad as they report then they will need us.” Aralin held out the bit less riding halter the Runners wore to appear near like horses below.
::Then go we must and go we shall.:: Thuer submitted as he had for the light saddle and other tack. Most often the Riders rode on trust, with nothing between them and their Runners but faith and the wind, as it should be, but when going out among the humans it was safer to disguise themselves as horses. They could and often did breed with land bound horses as well, strengthening the stock.
White Space
Slowly the full moon rose reflecting the light of the sun as it set. The fully rounded disk looked bloody in the darkening sky. Then as it rose the moonbeams collected in the place between the Below Lands and the Home Lands. The collected beams interlaced forming a bridge and linked the two lands.
White Space
As the first couple moonbeams spanned the space, the Out Riders mounted and prepared to debark. Gelary, mounted on his Runner, Arey, was the first down the Moon Bridge, leading most of the Out Riders onto the sands. Aralin waited with two companions until the Out Riders have reached the sands, then he pointed Thuer toward the bridge. Thuer reared and roared out his challenge to the sky as he thundered toward the opening, but instead of heading downward toward the sands, he leapt into the sky. His body elongated as he merged with the winds. Whipping through the Out Riders as a strong zephyr might, Aralin and his companions set off to discover who was infringing upon the rights of his Riders to pass in the Below Lands.
Free as the wind they thundered across the sky appearing to be nothing more than a cloud, a ghost, an image not quite imagined but not quite explained.
White Space
Twenty leagues south by west, an encampment of unknown Riders and their Runners had bedded down for the night. Thuer and Skiskal rode through the camp gently as a spring breeze, insubstantial as the wind, while the other guard played in the tree tops. From a central tent came a young male dressed in crimson robes. A mage from the Under world. Before Aralin could determine what mischief a young mage might possibly be up to when grouped with this odd assortment of Riders and Runners a young Water Rider come to stand in front of the mage.
“Lord Kanarg,” The Rider bowed to the mage. “That is no normal wind in the trees, but a Wind Runner. We can not tell if he has a Rider, but my lord, it could be a rogue.”
The Mage looked up at the tree and stretched out his hand, Thuer gave warning to the Runner, but it did not come soon enough. Both Rider and Runner fell from the wind, wrenched from the element to land stunned on the ground. Thuer trumpeted his outrage and Aralin called the winds to obey. He poured his rage into the storm and a tempest raged forth.
While the tempest raged around the camp, Aralin and Erlath aided Fewan back on his Runner and keeping the unsteady Runner between their own beasts, they again took to the winds. This time they stayed high as they possibly could so the Mage could not possibly wrench them from the wind.
Aralin was angry. No one should have been able to do that to a Rider, any Rider, not when he was in his own element. Especially not if he were as experienced as Fewan. It made no sense, and they still did not know what the Mage wanted. It was obvious the Riders served him, but why? What did they think to gain by attacking the Home Lands?
White Space
It was near dawn when they made it back to the Moon Bridge, Fewan was able to sit his Runner without aide for the last part of the journey, but just so. When they arrived, Aralin directed the Out Riders to form picket lines and to patrol them both on land and in the air looking for any stray Riders as well as anything that appeared odd to anyone. He did not want any Riders lost to the Under World mage. Then he and his two guards headed up to the Home Lands, where they holed up in Aralin’s private library to discuss what needed to be done about the mage.
These two are Aralin’s bodyguards and closest advisors. They decide that Fewan will ride to the Water King (Zindur) and Erlath will ride to the Earth King (Xonammu) while Aralin rides to the Fire King (Kappan). They will leave just before dawn as the Moon Bridge is closing for this cycle and will return hopefully when it reopens on it’s next cycle. If not, then the cycle after. The same message will be sent Zindur and Xonammu with Erlath and Fewan acting as curriers. Once it was agreed this was the best plan Aralin sent them to their homes to be with their families while he penned the letters to the other Kings.
The message was simple: help.
Then he went to spend time with Parya.
White Space
“Please do not go, Aralin.” Parya asked as she held him close.
“I must. If we are to drive the Mages back to their Under World we all must work together. It is written in our history, Parya. You know this.”
“I do know it, but I do not profess to liking it. All I want is to have our child and keep her safe here with a father to help raise her.”
“He will be born, he will grow strong, and he will lead his people to great things, Parya, it is said of all Wind Kings.” Aralin grinned at her.
“Is that why your father left you his kingdom as soon as you could control the winds?”
“Also a custom, and one I intend to follow. Twenty years from now when that one has mastered the winds, you and I will be free to ride where we choose and this will be his to reign and rule until his son is ready to ride the tempest.”
“You say it like you hate it.”
“Nay, I do not hate it, but it is a burden I would not wish on one not prepared for it can be cumbersome.”
“Cumbersome. I’ll give you cumbersome, lug this around with you for a moon or three.” She indicated her belly. He laughed.
“I would if I could, wife, just to free you of the burden of my seed, but I am afraid I am ill equipped for delivery.” He kissed her and they fell into the bed.
White space
Parya woke in the middle of her dreaming in a cold sweat. She curls up next to Aralin, reassuring herself he is still there, trying to convince herself he has not left her yet. That he is not gone. The babe senses her distress and kicks wildly into the small of his back. This disturbs his slumber more than her snuggling close had, and he wakes up. He notices her mood and asks what is wrong so she tells him about the bad dream. Parya often has dreams that come true so he is warned that his trip may go wrong, but it was vague enough that it might be any one of the three of they who are going. She does not know about the other two.
The next day Aralin spends with Gelary preparing him to assist Parya in the next moon cycle or two. They patrol as normal and nothing strange happens.
White Space
On the following dawn just as the moon is setting, Aralin mounts Thuer who has said his goodbyes to Nonra and they leap from the fading bridge opening into the sky below. His guards follow and after a second of milling about and seeming as if Aralin is shouting at them for following him, they split in three directions to find the help they will need to defeat the mages camped on their doorstep.
White Space
Thuer carried Aralin high above the clouds riding the winds toward the south where the Fire Lands lay. He made it just as the bridge was opening on the first night of the new moon. They didn’t have any trouble with the Mage’s army, but they were just a single rider riding high and fast.
Aralin concludes his business with the Fire King in a single day, when he comes out to the stables he is vexed and while he will not discuss the details of the arrangement with Thuer he does make it clear to his Runner it is imperative that they make it to the War Council that had all ready been called and that no one had bothered to inform him of.
He races back across the sky to get Parya because one of the things he had been told he should bring was his heir, ‘if he had been man enough to sire one yet’. A ten day’s travel from his home he falls from the sky, yanked from his Runner by some invisible force. He manages to land somewhat safely and finds himself in the midst of a battle being waged between Mage forces and what appeared to be Water Folk. He found a horse that had lost his rider and mounted up as Thuer was no where to be seen. He could sense him though and knew he was alive, although he was somewhat injured from the fall from the sky. Hopefully it was only a sprain and not a break. Breaks were bad on a Runner if not treated properly and immediately by someone who knew how.
White Space
When the Moon Bridge opens the following moon cycle Thuer thunders up it rider less. He has a battle wound on his flank that has festered but can be cured with proper attention and he is limping ever so slightly. He is weak from loss of blood and the Elders are sure he traveled without stop to be so exhausted. They can not risk loosing him, but they need to know where Aralin is. All Thuer will tell them is Aralin is not dead the rest is gibberish. They declare he needs more rest. And before they could convince her otherwise, Parya had taken up her husbands quest, and was on her way to places unknown. She had not gone alone, but that did not ensure her safety.
(# 1 end) White Space
The Moon Bridge opens at the next full moon and the Out Riders prepare to go forth. There, waiting for them is what is left of the Queen’s guard. Each man and woman is worried for her safety. None saw her escape, none saw her be taken, she just disappeared.
They are alone, but Refat, who is among them, tells Gelary that the Fire Riders helped them home. They are aware of their plight and they have issues of their own. The Fire Rider was not willing to talk in confidence, but he did assure Refat that plans were underway to rid the Below lands of the scourge that now plagued it.
Gelary was pleased to hear this, but he was concerned about his King and his Queen. He was a man of faith though, and until someone showed him a body he would believe them alive and trying to come home.
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