The Temple of Fate, page 15
part #5 of Bander Series




“Did you find what you were looking for?” Dunegan asked, as Bander handed him back the book.
“I’m not really sure. Tell me, have you ever heard of the name ‘Ahania?’ It’s mentioned in one of the poems.”
“Can’t say that I have. But if you are really curious, ask for Eslan Mab at the University next time you’re back in Rundlun. He’s perhaps the most renowned Jinton Holm scholar alive.”
Bander thanked the bookseller and then returned to the inn to share his discovery with Valthar and Eton Sward. Neither of them had heard of Ahania either.
“In all my studies, I don’t believe I’ve ever come across that name before,” Eton Sward said.
“Me neither,” Valthar said. “However, Sward, it must be duly noted that the oaf here has discovered a previously unknown connection between Burritch’s temple and an aona—even if the device wasn’t mentioned by name.”
They spent the rest of the day and well into the evening reading the poem aloud and analyzing it every which way they could.
Eton Sward in particular, was quite skilled at drawing more connections.
“Wanden’s dome is a poetic way of saying the sky,” he said.
Bander knew that in the old mythology Wanden was the king and greatest of the ancient gods.
“And this,” Eton Sward continued. “Engraved into the loam, a shining track. You know what this is, don’t you Devil Dog?”
“I may be old, but I’m not dim,” Valthar said. “Of course I know what Jinton Holm is referring to. And all this proves that I was right all along. There is a fourth temple. And Burritch found it.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Bander wasn’t sure what to expect of this journey. He was not fond of boats or traveling on the water by any means, but there was a part of him that was looking forward to the exploration.
It had been a good thirty years since he hiked through the jungles of the Wilderlands. Even if they didn’t find anything more than a pile of rock—which is what he expected—this wasn’t a bad way to spend part of the winter. If, that is, Bryn Eresthar could restrain himself for a month or two—and not act before Bander got the chance to talk to his old friend, man to man.
At dawn on the appointed day, Bander, Valthar and Eton Sward made their way back to the green parrot warehouse. The same skinny young Tengan lad was there and he led them through the maze of streets that surrounded the Horseshoe Docks.
“Are we going to Talessa Kreed’s island?” Bander asked the boy.
“No, sir. The Calibis is cityside. Right this way.”
They circled east to a pier on the edge of the Horseshoe Docks. At the end of the pier was docked a single-masted sailing barge, maybe seventy feet long, with a pair of large leeboards and a good-sized cabin.
“Welcome aboard, gentleman.” A short wiry Tengan with a bald head greeted them. “My name is Larandar, and I’m the pilot.”
Bander nodded. “Impressive-looking boat.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t say that, but she’ll get us where we need to go. Please come aboard.”
Three sailors were making final preparations with one large man standing at the bow looking everything over. Bander was no kind of seaman, but The Calibis looked like it was in good condition to him. The deck was scrubbed and solid looking. The sails and riggings appeared well-maintained.
Eton Sward nodded approvingly but Valthar didn’t seem so sure.
“Mistress Kreed is in the cabin and asked if you would join her there,” Larandar said. “This way. The Calibis is a cargo ship, as you can see and accommodations are a bit rougher than you are probably used to, gentlemen.”
“Not a problem,” Bander said. He had to stoop to fit through the narrow doorway into the cabin. It was a rustic affair, with lines of bunks and a central table. Talessa Kreed sat at the end of the table looking over some papers, but stood up when she saw them.
“Good to see you again, Bander. I assume these learned gentlemen are your employers. Welcome, all.”
“My name is Valthar and I am in charge of this expedition. This is my assistant, Eton Sward.”
Sward made a face, but Valthar ignored it. “I must say, madam, you appear too young to be captaining a ship.”
“I will take that as a compliment.”
“Nevertheless,” Valthar said. “We are most grateful to be in your company on this grand adventure.”
Bander smiled faintly. Valthar was certainly on his best behavior.
“I’m not sure how grand it will be,” Talessa Kreed said to Valthar. “As I told your man, I have seen the ruins with my own eyes and there’s not much there.”
Eton Sward said, “Believe me, madam, even the discovery of the merest crumble of brick or a broken foot of a statue is capable of sending Valthar here into paroxysms of ecstasy.”
Talessa Kreed arched her eyebrows. “Well, I daresay there is more than a little ecstasy in your future, sir.”
“Let us hope so,” Valthar said.
“Well, might as well make yourselves comfortable. It’s a day and a half at least that we’ll be on the river. Then another day and a half again through the jungle.”
Eton Sward looked at Valthar. “You sure about this Devil Dog?”
“If you have doubts, now’s your one and only chance to call it off,” Talessa Kreed said.
“Absolutely not.”
“Well, good then. Larandar, set sail.”
“Yes, captain,” the pilot replied and left the cabin.
Bander followed him. The cabin was a little too cramped for his taste and he wanted to see the procedure for setting off. Even though he was not overly fond of boats, he did appreciate the coordinated effort it took to launch one.
All the sailors began working like ants, as the big man Bander had seen earlier looked on. The sailors maneuvered the boat away from the dock with long poles. And the big man just stood there, not lifting a hand. Maybe he was the first mate or something—although he didn’t look like a sailor. He was almost Bander’s size, broad of shoulders, with a stone face.
Bander walked up to him and introduced himself.
The man regarded him with blank eyes for a moment. “The name’s Fenrue,” he grunted.
“You the first mate?”
“Why would you think that?”
“You’re the only one on this deck besides me who’s just standing around not doing anything.”
The stoney expression didn’t change. “Not my job to mess with the boat.”
“What is your job, then?”
“Make sure you don’t die.”
Bander understood. The guy was a guard. The big knife at his belt should have been a clue, although sailors use knives too. Ropes need to be cut from time to time. And fish gutted.
“In truth,” Fenrue said. “My job is to make sure Talessa Kreed doesn’t die. Then you three. Then the men, I suppose.”
“And what’s the top threat?”
Fenrue shrugged. “Human threat? I’d say bandits. Non-human? Probably river boar.”
It had been a long time since Bander had encountered a river boar. They were large, aggressive animals that lived by river banks and would lay half submerged in wait of prey. The big ones could get as long as twenty feet and weigh several thousand pounds. And they could run as fast as a horse over short distances.
“What do you do about them?”
“Do? Stay clear. That’s the best thing. They don’t like deep water, so the biggest danger is when we go ashore.”
That made sense.
“And what about bandits?”
“Only the dumb ones would try anything. See that pennant?”
Bander looked up. The boat was flying a blue triangular flag with a jagged design in gold. It kind of looked like a lightning bolt.
“What does that mean?”
“That’s Talessa Kreed’s crest. Everyone in the Territories knows it. And the smart ones keep their distance.”
Bander looked out on the river. Their boat had cleared Malverton’s harbor and was now drifting downstream. Dozens of other watercraft swarmed around them. Most were smaller skiffs.
The three sailors pulled lines and unfurled sails, and within a quarter hour, The Calibis was sailing downriver at a good clip.
Bander returned to the cabin where Valthar, Eton Sward, and Talessa Kreed were deep in conversation about Rodan Scarfin Burritch.
“Admittedly, it has been some years since I read Travels,” Talessa Kreed said. “But I was fairly sure he mentioned that the temple was fairly difficult to find.”
“You may want to refresh your memory, madam,” Eton Sward said. He reached into his satchel and withdrew his copy of the book and gently slid it towards her.
Talessa Kreed’s eyes widened. “Are you addled, bringing a rare book like this on the river? This should be in a museum.”
“It is well protected,” Eton Sward said. “Besides, we may need it as a reference. Would you care to re-read it?”
“Of course I would!”
Bander stretched out on one of the bunks while the other three continued their discussion. It sounded like Talessa Kreed was as much as a history buff as Valthar and Sward.
After a few hours, Bander got bored and returned up top. It was raining lightly and Fenrue was still standing in the same spot, still gazing off with his stoney expression.
“You want me to spell you?” Bander asked. “You could dry off. Get something to drink.”
“Not your job.”
“I realize that, but I’m offering.”
“I’m fine.”
“As you wish.”
Bander shrugged and walked off to the other side of the ship. He had known plenty of men like Fenrue, not confident enough to graciously accept any offers of help, no matter how small. His loss, though.
The river narrowed here to maybe a quarter mile wide. But the shores were a wall of dense green vegetation. Bander didn’t spot any river boar, but he did see all kinds of other animals, including a crocodile that was half as long as The Calibis, judging by its wake. Brightly colored parrots and other types of birds looked down at them from their perches in the oversized nanheorn trees, and Bander caught a glimpse of what might have been a dark-colored jungle cat slinking through the brush. All in all, it was fortunate that they were traveling by river and not overland. But he suspected that this good fortune wouldn’t last.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
The river journey was uneventful. They passed a number of other boats, some heading downriver, some working their way upriver. No one got close and Larandar the pilot did a good job of keeping The Calibis away from sunken logs, snags, and other hazards.
Early on the morning of the second day, the river they were traveling on, the Urfantis, merged with a narrower, faster-moving river. Not long after that, the river emptied into an immense lake that Talessa Kreed told them was twenty-two miles long. Lake Horbadin, it was called. Because the wind was good and the lake was deep and easy to navigate, they nearly doubled their speed.
Towards the end of the day they reached the far southwest shore of the lake—which was where they would leave the boat. Talessa Kreed decided it would be better to spend the night on The Calibis and get an early start, so they dropped anchor a hundred yards offshore, had a substantial dinner of fish and a pale-colored jungle fruit called donyat, and then discussed the next leg of the journey.
“I won’t lie to you,” Talessa Kreed said. “It’s twenty miles or so through the jungle and then maybe another ten in the foothills of the Crantochs. Not an easy trek. Even for younger men than yourselves…” She trailed off.
Valthar said, “Madam, as I have said time and again, this is my life’s work. Nothing shall deter me. If I can’t walk on my own two feet, Bander here will carry me over his shoulder.”
“What about you, Sward?” Bander asked. “I’m not sure if I can carry both of you.”
Eton Sward looked down at the floor, obviously torn. He was easily a hundred pounds heavier than a man his size should be, and it was probably a decade since he had walked anywhere farther than from his cottage to the outhouse. Could he survive a two-day trek through the jungle? Who knew?
“I want to try,” Eton Sward said. “If I slow you down too much, you will leave me and pick me up on the return journey.”
Talessa Kreed raised her eyebrow at that. She didn’t know that Sward was a mage, of course, and could teleport back to Malverton if the journey became too arduous.
“Very well, then, gentlemen,” she said. “I suggest we all retire and try to get a good night’s sleep.”
The next morning, Larandar used a skiff to shuttle them to shore. He had to make several trips. Their group numbered eight in all: Bander, Valthar, Eton Sward, Talessa Kreed, Fenrue, and two sailors—one young and tall, and the other closer to Talessa Kreed’s age but heavyset. Larandar and the third sailor would stay with The Calibis and await the party’s return.
“Well, men, the good news is that there is a trail,” Talessa Kreed said.
“You call this a trail?” Valthar asked.
Talessa Kreed explained that there was a Tengan village several miles to the southwest and this was the route that the villagers used to access the lake.
“It doesn’t run all the way to the mountains, however.”
“I wouldn’t expect it to,” Eton Sward said. “The Tengans have an aversion to mountains. They believe them to be lamat. Unholy.”
“Not exactly, sir,” Talessa Kreed said. “Lamat doesn’t mean ‘unholy.’ It means ‘of the dead.’ The reason they steer clear of the mountains is because that’s where their dead dwell.”
“Indeed,” Valthar said. “More ’sacred’ than ‘unholy,” I’d wager.”
“I stand corrected,” Eton Sward said. “But it doesn’t give me much more comfort to know we are entering the land of the dead.”
They trudged along the narrow path into the misty haze. Above their heads, leaves the size of tavern tables blocked the dim sunlight. Birds and insects swarmed all around, creating a din that Bander never thought he’d get used to.
After an hour or so, the sky started to dump rain, and that made it even more difficult to see.
Bander didn’t mind the weather, but he could tell that Valthar and Eton Sward were uncomfortable. Their wet clothes stuck to their bodies like a second skin and the mud sucked at their boots greedily with every step.
“Cheer up, lads,” Talessa Kreed said. “A mere twenty-five miles to go, I believe. Thirty at the most.”
Eton Sward groaned.
Normally, on a decently maintained road, Bander could cover that distance in a single day, but this rough track wasn’t a road by any means. But once they got going no one complained. Not Valthar. Not even Eton Sward.
They trudged through the jungle, with Fenrue steering the group clear of anything hazardous. Bander asked him what the most dangerous threats were out here.
“No bandits out this way,” Fenrue said. “Tengans won’t bother us. So I’d say snakes, spiders, red heart monkeys, ragarries—”
“What about the sombo?” Eton Sward asked. The mage’s face was flushed with exertion.
“What’s the sombo?” Bander had never heard the name.
“That’s where the dragon legend came from,” Eton Sward said.
“No,” Valthar countered. “The dragon legend came from the fact that there used to be dragons walking around. And flying around.”
“Delusions!” Eton Sward scoffed.
Fenrue said, “Sombos are rare. They’re large reptiles like crocodiles, but they spend their time on land. As big as a wagon, and you can hear them coming from a mile away. Not much of a threat. We’ll be fine as long as we keep our eyes open.”
At the end of the day, they made camp at a small, rough clearing. While the area looked like it had been used as a campsite at some point in the past, it was now mostly overgrown. Talessa Kreed ordered the sailors to hack the brush back while she set about preparing their meal. Fenrue kept watch as usual.
Bander volunteered for sentry duty, but Talessa Kreed was more comfortable with her own men. They knew the jungle and he didn’t.
“Best get as much rest as you can,” she said. “The way won’t be getting any easier.”
So after dinner, the group set up their bedrolls and went to sleep.
The night passed uneventfully. No one got strangled, bitten, poisoned, or mauled. And within a half hour of rising, they were moving again.
At least it wasn’t raining.
Bander noticed that Valthar was struggling a bit to keep up and was using his walking stick more and more.
“How are you faring?”
“These old joints just take some time to get unstuck. Like a rusty wagon wheel. I’ll be fine.”
After about five miles of slow trudging, they crossed a ridge with low valleys on either side. The mass of green vegetation went on forever to the north, south, and east, but to the west Bander got his first glimpse of the rocky peaks of the Crantochs. They weren’t that far away, of course, but the dense jungle had blocked any view of the mountains until now.
An hour or so later, Talessa Kreed announced that it was time to leave the trail. It was clear that they had been gaining elevation and climbing into the edge of the foothills, and now it appeared they would be venturing directly towards the mountains.
Talessa Kreed sent the two sailors up ahead with their long knives—which were more like backswords—to clear the path. As far as Bander could tell, they had veered a bit to the northwest. By his reckoning it took them three hours to travel a single mile. But at that point, the jungle began to thin and the way became easier.
They stopped several times for Talessa Kreed to get her bearings. She withdrew a spyglass and a notebook from her satchel and peered at various peaks and hills in the distance, all the while checking her notations.