Abbalar Tales ~ 29

 Abbalar Tales ~ 29 Captivity 2

By Len Morgan

  Paveil was Endrochine's third son, two years younger than Fazeil.   He was the issue of his father’s second wife, widely believed to have been, the true love of his life.   Sadly she died in childbirth, when Paveil was only three, after her loss Endrochine’s flame dimmed and he was never seen to smile again until the moment he rejoined her in death.   The brothers were not close as children, Fazeil much preferred the company of Jazim and her entourage.   

As they aged Endrochine's children flowered. Each contributing his bloom to the Corvalen bouquet.   Each brother was well trained and eminent in his respective field of excellence.   When he'd been running things, the diplomatic and administrative machine ran smoothly and efficiently.   

Paveil smiled, wondering how Asba Dylon was faring with his increased workload.   He had been handed the responsibility as a matter of course.   No other could do the job, and keep things ticking over in good order until the year end.  However, Paveil had been greatly perturbed by the attack on Asba the previous day.    More so by the fact it had taken place in a public forum.   Neither was his concern assuaged, on learning the identity of the perpetrator.   He was the same assassin whose bungled attempt on the life of Fazeil had brought about the unceremonious execution of Jerez, and resulted in Paveil's own incarceration.   Yet the assassin was allowed to go free?   Aldor could not understand why Fazeil should act in so contrary a fashion.  There were also confirmed rumours of a revival of the outlawed blood cult from Bluttland, at the instigation of Jazim, and sanctioned by Fazeil.    A number of key counsellors who were not in sympathy with Fazeil’s policies had mysteriously disappeared.  Others, unsympathetic towards Bedelacq's blood cult, had also gone.  Paveil was painfully aware that he himself was in a precarious position, they could not do what they had done and allow him to live beyond the end of the year.

   That was when he first heard the voice and started to question his own sanity.

 .-...-.

'Now you know the truth brother.   I do not have much time, and I need to know if you are prepared to become Regent of Corvalen' it said.   'Fazeil is not his own man and no longer has the interests of Corvalen first and foremost in his mind.   I have searched the minds of all our fathers’ issue, still residing within the city, and you alone possess the required experience knowledge and dedication to drag this state into a new era of development and prosperity.   I need an answer, will you say yes?'

"Who are you? " he replied.

 "Can I help you sir?" the guard stationed outside in the corridor enquired.

"Sorry, I'm just thinking aloud," he answered; determined not to repeat the error.

He sat on his simple mattress and repeated the question.   'Who are you?’

'I   am a prisoner here just as you are.'

'By what name should I call you,' he answered rephrasing his question.

'You can call me Aldor,' said the voice.

'I have no brother of that name, is this some strange weirding deceit…'

'Not so, I am indeed your brother but, I have changed so much as a result of recent experiences that none of my previous associates' friends or family would recognise me.   In my present state, this name will serve as well as another…'

'So, I am to trust a voice that will not be named?   I will not ask a third time…'

'Very well, I am Ahlendore.'

'Little Ahle?'   Paveil almost choked on the words, 'I would sooner trust a sewer rat, than a drunken womanising murderer of women and children.'

'I have never harmed a woman or child, but I must confess I was unwittingly responsible for the death of a Regent's Guard yester-eve.   He launched an unprovoked attack on my friend and employer,” he began...

'You are Asba's protector?   Why did you not say that first thing?   You have restored your standing in my eyes.'    Paveil's mind relaxed immediately.

'Does he know who you are?'

'Yes, it was he made me realise the Regency was not for me and suggested that I would be the ideal person to seek out the man who will be the kind of Regent Corvalen needs and deserves.'

'Was I the only one you could find?"

'There was one other, but I believe even a liberal-minded man like yourself would take issue with a female Regent.'

'Little Lillefane per chance?'

"You know her?'

'We share both father and mother,' he explained.   'It would be as well for me to be sure little sister Lillefane supports me if her talents are as prestigious as you imply.'

.-…-. 

    The old Ahlendore had considered the Regency his birthright.   He would have fought all comers, toe to toe, to gain it.   Aldor now knew he had another path to travel, not as glamorous mayhap but, necessary and worthwhile.   In addition, he knew he was probably the only person capable of treading that path with any likelihood of success.   He considered this to be due mainly to his off-world enhancements rather than his natural ability as a statesman.   He paused for a second time to ask the question.

 'Will you now become Regent of Corvalen?'  The extended pause was palpable.

'It's a hellish long way from this prison cell to the seat of the Caliphate but, if it is meant to be, I will not turn aside, I will serve the populace or die in the attempt'  he answered.

'Good man,' said the voice in his mind, revealing a picture of the smiling young Ahlendore appearing as he once was, changing slowly into Aldor a taller broader young man of indeterminate age with pale hair and pale northern eyes.

'Is that you?'

'It is,' the image replied.

Paveil liked the open honest face that returned his gaze.

'How can I be sure that you speak true and, that you are not an abomination of my disturbed mind.   I need to know that I am not going mad.'

'Come into my mind and share my thoughts' Aldor's voice invited.

He was confused by this but couldn't feel anything different.   Then he notices he was looking at an entirely different view.   His body felt young strong and vital.

'Ask a question to which you and I alone would know the answer,' Aldor continued.

Paveil thought, 'an unsolicited act of kindness to a stranger that put your own life in mortal danger, for no apparent reward,' he answered at once.

There was a pause for a minute or so, 'In truth, I cannot recall such an act' Aldor replied.   'Sadly I was not considered a nice person in my former guise.'

‘It is strangely disorientating, looking into another's mind, to view familiar events from your life through the eyes of that other.   They seemed familiar yet strangely alien, as if we had both experienced the same thing but, viewed from a different perspective’  said Aldor.   ‘For instance, if one viewed a house from the front, another from the side, the descriptions of its aspect would not tally; yet both views are equally valid.  But, I have failed your first test,'   said Aldor somewhat disgruntled.   'There is nothing, I can bring to mind…'

'Let me see if I can refresh your memory by showing you the incident through your own eyes'  said Paveil 'he eased them both back five years, as though he were in fact the expert.   Ahle would have been about eleven years old, he recalled they were hunting wild boar in the Northern Reserve.   The hounds were bred to the chase and had scented one, maybe several beasts, at this point he sidelined his own recollections in favour of following the action through Ahle's memories.

   He savoured the sounds, the feelings, the fresh emotions.   Even the colours were somehow different, alien, brighter, sharper, fresher, newer.   His spirits were high; he was filled with great excitement and expectation.   He was determined to be in at the kill.   He rode as though he were an extension of his mount, as they raced in pursuit, his head held low in contact with the beast as they sped beneath low hanging branches in an exhilarating adrenaline burst.    He was in danger of losing himself completely in the experience, having frequently to remind himself he was here for a purpose.   The sun-dappled the uneven spongy leaf mould underfoot as the early autumnal wind ruffled his hair and loose-fitting clothes.  

Paveil was amazed anew at the vigour and strength of youth, as he experienced what Ahle had felt.

Ahle was intoxicated with the moment convinced that today he would make his first kill.   All the signs were right, he was way in advance of the chase and watched as the boar split up from the sow to divide the field.   Next moment, he marvelled in surprise at seeing the hounds sniff the air and chase after the sow.   He was already in pursuit of the boar but alone.   The pack and the body of the hunt blindly followed the hounds.   But, he wanted the boar so that was the path he took; leaving behind the sounds of the main party he entered a clearing.   The boar was immediately ahead of him, his blood was up and the chase engulfed him.   He had eyes for one thing only, as he mouthed a litany over and over, 'Kill, kill, kill the beast,…'    It was a fine large specimen of porcine kind, tiny eyes, red now with fury, its anger had been roused; it would be both dangerous and unpredictable.   It sensed his approach and turned to face him, performing multiple pirouettes to offer its challenge.   A challenge Ahle's mount would not willingly take up, it reared and backed away refusing to go any closer.   Ahle kept his saddle eyeing the beast, summoning the will to urge his mount to the charge.   Even as he did so he could hear the change in voice, as the hounds realised their error and changed direction heading back towards him and the boar.   He would barely have time to make the kill before they arrived.   He kicked the horses’ flanks, urging her forward.

Then he heard a woman scream, followed by a high pitched keening, "Nooooo, Nooooo please don't do this…   Aaagh somebody help, he-elp!…"

He reined in pulling the mare in a new direction, towards the tortured voice.   Almost at once, he came upon two youths of sixteen or seventeen with a near naked young girl tethered to a tree by her wrists and ankles.

"Hold still and it will go better on you," one commanded, but she struggled all the more.

They heard the rapidly approaching hoofbeats and the sound of the hunting party closing with them.   They turned in surprise.

"What do think you're doing," Ahle demanded.   "You are trespassing on the Caliph's private lands, that’s a flogging offence.  The minimum sentence for you three will be forty lashes each!   Then if she complains you brought her here against her will, the sentence for you two will be doubled.   You may even be gelded for good measure, to prevent a repetition.   Hold fast," he commanded, but they were cowards so they broke and ran.   He allowed them to make good their escape; two to one is never good odds, he went instead to the young woman's aid.   He untied her and turned his back discretely, while she dressed, then pulling her onto his horse and conveyed her safely to her home.  

   Paveil had followed him when his course diverged from the main party.   Curiosity piqued, he took on the role of voyeur.   He could have killed the boar himself and taken the kudos but, it held no attraction for him, he'd done it all before.   He was much more interested in what Ahle would do.   He was prepared to provide support if necessary, hanging back out of sight to see how the boy would perform.

To his own certain surprise, the boy was brave, selfless and chivalrous.   Moreover, to Paveil's certain knowledge he never once spoke of the incident to anyone.   Others of his kin would have retold the tale a thousand times embellishing it a little more with each telling.   Ahle kept silent on the matter even went out of his way to congratulate the man who eventually bagged the boar.

   Looking into his mind now, Paveil found him to be self-effacing on the subject.   He explained it as something that had to be done, neither brave nor courageous.   He saw a wrong that had to be righted, according to his interpretation of the warriors’ code.   Would any man with the benefit of breeding have acted differently?   The question hung in the air, in the young man's mind, Paveil thought the answer would most definitely be ‘No’.

(To be Continued)

Copyright Len Morgan