Painting Destiny

“Are you sure about this, Navan?”

The former pirate glowered at King Mannas’ Chief of Commerce. His bright, emerald green eyes flashed with laughter, however.

  “The information came from Daoud, one of my former crew, when I was raiding the coastal villages of Vyrone.”

Navan grinned at the look that passed over the face of Gerrod, whose family escaped from one of those same villages. The Iron Hawk was a legend, and parents still used the threat of its crew and their fiery-haired Captain to frighten naughty children into going to sleep and otherwise behave. 

Gerrod quickly recovered himself and returned the smile.

“Then he must be a trustworthy fellow, indeed.”

“Ha!” Navan bellowed. “Daoud will take the coin out of a dead man’s mouth while it’s still warm. I only trust him because he knows the fate of anyone who lies to me.”

I may have made him Captain when I decided to infiltrate King Mannas’ court, but he still knows who is in charge.

“We have to tell the King immediately. I don’t know if he’ll believe a paintbrush can end the Althar Kingdom.”

“Don’t worry, Gerrod. I’ll tell him. Courtiers lie as easily as they breathe. The King knows I’ll always tell him the truth from loyalty, concern, or curiosity to see what happens next.”

-----

           Gerrod reined in his horse next to Navan.  

           “This is not our concern. King Mannas gave us only three days to reach Silek and another three to secure his aid.”

           A quarter mile away, a cavalry platoon wearing Duke Nahem’s colors attempted to encircle and harass a group of nomads.

“We’ll be at Silek’s home tomorrow regardless of whether we stop. Besides, aren’t the members of this Wanderer tribe his subjects?”

           “Barely. Wanderers avoid most contact with kingdom officials, especially game wardens. We do not even know how many there are in the Kingdom.”

           “This group flies the red and gold banner of our King; that means they give him their loyalty, pay their tribute, and can expect both protection and justice. Just as we do.”

           Gerrod stared at Navan momentarily and then began to shake his head.

           “I keep forgetting that, for a pirate, you understand the law better than many at court.”

           “Years of breaking the law gives me an insight into applying it, especially when it allows me to cut down Duke Nahem’s men.”

           Nahem, son of the late King Loren, had come to power in the Nytek Kingdom several months ago following the disappearance of his half-sister, Princess Lilah. He could not call himself King since he was born to a servant rather than Lilah’s Mother, Queen Myrlee, through whom the line of succession ran.

That did not stop him from putting the Queen into seclusion until she agreed to change the law. Nahem also took advantage of the situation to push outward the boundaries of Nytek.

           “I am unable to find an argument against your reasoning, Navan. Although to be honest, I’m not trying very hard.”

           “Stop trying, and let’s enforce the King’s law!”

           Navan waved the company forward, then spurred his horse to race toward Nahem’s men.

Fighting ceased immediately, though, as the force from Mannas rode up. Navan began to think they were expected. Three men rode up from the cavalry platoon as they approached. One came close enough to bump Navan’s horse.

           “These are the Duke’s lands.” One man said as he pointed to a nearby cairn. “His marker is clear.”

           “The boundary has always been the river a day’s ride from here, just before entering the Green Plains,” Gerrod said in his best, officious voice.

           “Changes are coming. Go back to Mannas and tell him that.”

           “Watch your tone, boy. Your little Duke is no match for the King.” Navan warned him.

           “He will be soon enough.”

           “Not today.” As Navan spoke, he brought his sword up from his left hip to quickly leave a deep scratch across the throat of the Duke’s soldier. Before the other two could respond, arrows took them out of their saddles to land dead on the ground. The rest of the platoon, already outnumbered, stayed where they were.

           “Please inform Duke Nahem that we understand the cairn was mistakenly placed.” Gerrod continued speaking in the same voice as before. “Assure him there is no need to send someone to remove it. We’ll happily take care of that for him.”

           To his credit, Nahem’s soldier did not shake as he grabbed his reins and turned to leave at a pace only slightly faster than a regular trot. Once he returned to his platoon, however, they left as quickly as their horses could carry them.

           The tribal leader of the group of Wanderers waved his thanks as his people moved away from the company.

           “Unfriendly fellow.” Gerrod offered.

           “Probably thinks we would ask for a tribute of some type. I would have asked for it when I captained the Iron Hawk.”

-----

           “A search of your quarters found this.” Silek, Sorcerer of the Green Plains, held a sheaf of papers, the correspondence between his chief of staff, Qayn, and the spymaster of the Althar Kingdom

           “You were my most trusted servant, Qayn. I gave you years beyond a normal lifespan and wealth only matched by royalty. You should have had more faith in me.”

“Please, master! I beg you not to ….” The last words of Qayn disappeared, along with the top of his head, in a mist of blood.

           Silek spoke to his majordomo, who was looking quite ill but still standing.

           “You are now my chief of staff, Talnos. Have the floor cleaned of your predecessor, and tell the kitchen staff to begin preparations for a large number of guests. They will arrive in time for dinner tomorrow.” 

-----

           Their scout awaited them as the Althar Company approached Silek’s home.

           “Is Silek ready for a siege?” Navan asked.

           “No. The gates are open. Servants are waiting inside the walls with food and water for us and the horses.”

           “What do you think, Navan?” Gerrod asked.

           “I think the King’s agent within Silek’s home is dead or a traitor, and we are now expected to walk in and place our head in the lion’s mouth.”

           “That does not surprise me, but the gate of a sorcerer standing open like a tavern door? That makes me nervous.” 

           “I knew a man in a traveling show who used to put his head in a lion’s mouth as part of his performance,” Navan recalled.

           “How did he keep the lion from biting off his head?”

           “He wore a spiked iron collar.”

           “Perhaps we should ask him for help.”

           “It won’t do you any good; he died two years ago.”

           “Old age?”

           “No, the lion eventually figured out that all he had to do was pull back a few inches and then bite his head off at the upper jaw.”

           “What good does that story do us?!”

           “It warns us that a lion is always a lion, even if you give him a name like a pet cat and make him wear a funny hat.”

           “So what, then? I try to pet Silek while you stab him in the back at the first opportunity?”

           Navan looked at Gerrod in mock surprise.

           “I believe you’re beginning to think like a pirate, Gerrod.”

-----

           “I have been following these stories for one hundred and fifty years. Somehow, Nahem has learned what I have. I suspect that Qayn was in his service as well as yours, Gerrod.”

           Navan rolled his eyes at the claim, but Gerrod merely nodded. He had been raised with stories of how sorcerers could extend their lives with magic.

           “Why have these stories never been heard outside the Green Plains until now?” The spymaster asked.

           “My theory is the brush takes time to regain power after each use. Otherwise, there would be a constant flow of adventuring fools trying to paint themselves a kingdom, an army, and a ridiculously bosomed wife to go with them.”

           Navan crossed his arms and laughed.

           “That sounds as if there might be some truth to it. Still, to think the all-powerful wizard Silek …”

           “I am a sorcerer, not a wizard!”

           “Why do you need us?” Gerrod interrupted.

“I cannot enter the temple where it is hidden.” 

“So you need a full human in your employ.”

           Silek bristled but remained calm. Only Sorcerers could manipulate magic without totems or other tools. Stories were common that anyone who could do so had a non-human ancestor somewhere in their lineage. No one knew for sure, but most sorcerers still took offense.

“Speak carefully, pirate. You shouldn’t be so anxious to die.”

“I’m already destined to die at seventy. Your words mean nothing.”

Silek gazed at Navan, whispered a few words, and raised his eyebrows in surprise.

“Seventy years exactly. How do you know this?”

“My Mother foretold it as she birthed me. It’s a common occurrence with my people.”

           “Impressive. Now, will you retrieve the brush so I can destroy it before Nahem uses it to destroy us all?”

           “Certainly,” Navan replied. “Before that, you must submit to a binding spell. Specifically, you bind yourself not to attack anyone of our company or take the brush after I bring it out of the temple.”

           “How do you know what spell I’ll cast?”

           “I will write it out for you,” Gerrod replied before Navan could speak.

           “Of course,” Silek said. “No doubt your spy taught you that in his secret messages before I executed him.”

           The sorcerer rose carefully to leave.

           “Enjoy your meal. We’ll speak in the morning.”

           After he left, Navan looked at the setting sun but spoke to Gerrod.

           “So you’re the King’s spymaster.”

           “Yes.”

           “Makes sense. A few years ago, the Iron Hawk found that little toady with the actual title lost on the coast. He was walking away from the city.”

           Gerrod shook his head.

           “I knew he was lying about that. I couldn’t prove it without torture, and the King refused to allow it.”

           “I’m guessing you have already written out the spell.”

           “Yes, Navan. Silek cannot move against us even after you give him the brush.”

           “Even so, observe him cautiously. If anyone knows more about deception than a spymaster, it’s a sorcerer.”

           “If he even pauses too long between words, I have three archers ready to put arrows blessed by the High Priest into him. Eye, throat, and heart at the same time.”

           “That will do it.” Navan nodded.

-----

The company left the next morning. Two days later, they came to the temple. Silek carefully examined the defensive spells and removed them. Finally, he read the spell created by Gerrod.

“Happy now?”

“Not until we retrieve that brush and watch you destroy it.”

           Navan entered the temple with a dozen men. All around them, booby traps were already tripped, and bodies of inhuman creatures littered their path to the alter room. As Silek told him, the paintbrush was in a jar with others that looked like it. The only difference was an old smear of what appeared to be blue paint at the neck where the bristles were attached. He quickly removed it and signaled to everyone to go.

           “Move quickly, everyone. This is far too easy for my liking.”

           They exited to find everyone else frozen in place. Navan had time to draw his sword before Silek also paralyzed him and his men. The sorcerer walked up to Navan and whispered a few words.

           “You can speak now.”

           “How did you break your spell?”

           “I did not. I said I would not take it from you to paint a new destiny.” Silek smiled and waited for Navan to catch up.

           “The brush doesn’t paint a man’s fate; it does something else.”

           “Excellent Navan! I’ll drop the spell so you can watch me demonstrate. No, I’m feeling generous. I’ll free everyone except Gerrod’s archers.”

           Silek released his spell, then grabbed the brush bristles which came off in his hand. He then began walking away, dropping a single bristle every seven feet. He dropped five rows of ten bristles each and returned to stand next to Navan. Gerrod and everyone else backed away.

“I think you’re going to like this.”

Silek raised his arms and began speaking in a whisper that eventually rose to a shout. As he finally lowered his arms, the earth exploded at each spot where a bristle had sunk itself deep into the ground. The largest horses Navan had ever seen leaped out of each hole. Each stood ready, nostrils flaring and eyes blazing a solid blue.

“Hellmounts!” The company said almost as one. The legendary beasts had not been seen in over a century, but their legend was known throughout the Southern Kingdoms. Each one could run twice as fast as a regular horse from sunup to sundown. Some said they shrugged off arrows.

“Why aren’t they running wild?” Navan asked.

“They were created on the Green Plains, not the pits of Hell as the legend says. They are controllable, but only with this.”

As Silek held up the paintbrush handle, it stretched and changed color. When it finished, Silek handed Navan a riding crop covered in carved symbols that glowed with the same unearthly blue as the eyes of the Hellmounts.

           “Why are you doing this?”

           “They’re my revenge on Duke Nahem.”

           “So he’s already murdered Lilah.”

           “No, she is Myrlee’s daughter. Which means she is my granddaughter.”

           Gerrod nodded with understanding.

           “You helped her disappear.”

           “Yes. Nahem is a danger to everyone. I spoke the full truth when I said he had learned the secret of the brush.”

           Navan chuckled at the revelation.

           “You know what this means, don’t you?”

           “I’m going to be seen as protecting the royal bloodline and die a hero?”

           “What do you mean die?” Gerrod asked.

“The spell is tied to the life of whoever raises the Hellmounts. I suspect this will be my end once I return them to the earth.”

“I’ll make certain everyone knows of your bravery and valor,” Navan replied.

“Mother always said I would come to a bad end. I see now she was right.”

Navan shook his head.

“Most men would give anything to be remembered as a hero, but not you.”

“Enjoy this last laugh, pirate; just grant me one favor.”

“What is it?”

“After my death, burn my body to ashes and then burn those for another day.”

“To prevent a living death.” Gerrod guessed.

“Yes, I have too many enemies that would turn me into a ghoul just for a laugh. Destruction also prevents a sorcerer or wizard from using my corpse in their spells and talismans.”

“Don’t worry, Silek. I will perform this task myself.” Navan promised.

“Good. Now, let’s save my daughter’s kingdom.”

Many Years Later

           “Tell us again, Grandfather! Tell us of the Heavenly Herd!”

           “My friend and hero of the Green Plains, Silek the Bold, discovered that a brush which was supposed to paint the future was actually the way to bring the horses of the Heavenly Herd of Titus to our world where they helped me, High Lord Gerrod and other heroes of King Mannas defeat the usurper Duke Nahem and bring peace to the Nytek Kingdom.”

           Daoud watched and listened as King Navan finished the story. After the children had left, he spoke up.

           “The ‘Heavenly Herd,’ my King?”

           “I started changing the story with this new generation. Silek deserved better and my changes further hide his connection to Queen Lilah.” Navan replied. “You’d know this if you had been around the throne more often, Daoud.”

           “True, but my role as the King’s Minister of Commerce keeps me busy traveling to interesting locations throughout the realm.”

           “Ten seasons as a member of the Royal Court, and you still can’t stop complaining.”

           “If I stop complaining, you’ll know I’ve thrown in with a younger, better-looking pirate.”

           “Younger, yes. Better-looking is not possible.”

Daoud shook his head and stood up to leave.

           “I should get to the docks before my men start sneaking off the ship, and I have to drag them out of the taverns again. Tell Queen Lilah and King Gerrod I wish them well when you see them next.”

           “Any hidden messages for your former mentor?”

“None; this time.” With a gleam in his eye, Daoud saluted with the wrong hand.

“Farewell, my King.”

           “You say that without the usual sarcasm, Daoud.”

           “It is because you now look like a king, not a pirate who stumbled onto another man’s throne. Whatever else we may have been in our younger days, this is always what an intelligent man could see was your future.”

           “Flattery, Daoud? Since when have you engaged in such?”

           “Ten years at the Royal Court taught me enough new bad habits to replace the old ones.”

           “Fair Enough! Now go and make us both richer than you imagined back on the Iron Hawk.”

           “I thought I was keeping the kingdom safe.”

           “You can do both.”

-----

           That evening, Navan went to his private meeting chamber after everyone else had fallen asleep. After securing the door, he gestured with his left hand toward his right and spoke two words in a language he could not read until just a few days ago. Bright, yellow flames burned cold on both hands as he walked over to a stacked but unlit fireplace.

           “When I die now at seventy, I wonder what will happen to this body.”

           With a quick wave of his hands, Navan ignited the wood, nearly burning it all to ash in an instant. He looked into the mirror hanging on the wall opposite his chair, noticing again his hairline changing to include a widow’s peak and eyes darkening from emerald green to black.

           “If you can hear me, Silek, this is a fine joke to play on your enemies, assuming I haven’t already killed them all.”