Читать книгу Darbone - Legend of The Four - C. Michael Neely - Страница 2

The spring sun was shining brightly on the Island meadow as the pups and their parents spent the day resting in the shade. The two pups played together, fighting and tumbling in the cool grass, growling and gnawing each other’s ears and legs and paws. Mayflies sprang from the tall grass as the two wrestled endlessly.

The two had gotten a good distance away from their parents when the oldest of them said, "You know, I am the Chosen One, and you have to do what I say."

The younger turned his head sideways, and responded, "I didn't choose you, so I don't have to do anything you say, ever!" and suddenly pounced upon his older brother, tumbling down a small hill into a thicket of briars. In an instant, the sound of buzzing hornets was all around them.

The older brother screamed, "Run! Go, go, go!” The two scrambled back up the hill at full speed, across the meadow back to their parents. The hornets were satisfied and did not pursue. This time. The two brothers laughed in their victory escaping the angry swarm.

"Alright boys, it's time to head back home. You've had enough exercise for one day, and tomorrow you've got training, Kartan. You should be rested and ready." The oldest answered, "Yes, Father." Argyle made a comment under his breath whispering in a sarcastic tone, “I’m the chosen one…blah blah blah.” They looked at each other and smiled. Argyle had much respect for his brother. Kartan was wiser than his years from very young, and accepted his destiny with a serious nature of purpose

The family made the short journey back to their den. It wasn't far from the shore, and the simple shelter home was built slightly into the side of a low hill. The hill was covered with small blossoming trees and many types of sea grasses to hold the top soil in place. It was a fine den indeed to raise a litter. Even as small as this one.

Kartan was the oldest of the litter, and in the tradition of his people and his family, he was "the Chosen One." This was a highly regarded station in life, as it meant he was to depart on a great journey at the turn of the new millennium, to re-instate all that was good in the world for the next thousand years.

Both of the brothers knew this was a big deal, but were more interested in having a bit more fun at the moment. Kartan pounced on his brother's head, biting his ears and tackling him to the ground. His younger brother, Argyle, was no pushover either. Rolling around on the ground, they went. Growling and snarling as if it were the real thing—a fight to the death!

"OK boys, that's it! Get cleaned up for dinner, and help your mother and I prepare the table."

The boys scrambled to their feet and did as their father commanded.

The importance of raising their boys properly was, without question, the most important task of their lives, and they knew it. This family had given five Chosen Ones over the last five thousand years, and they were not about to fail their people by allowing their sons to fail them. Both of these boys had good values and strong personalities, perfect for the young warriors they would both become.

#

The years seemed to go by quickly as both Argyle and Kartan developed into strong capable warriors. More and more, Kartan left home on tribal expeditions designed to familiarize him with the surrounding terrain off of their small island. There was a great world to be explored, and although Argyle often envied his brother, he was also quite content with his island world, and the things he loved there—the surf and the sound of the ocean crashing against the beach rocks, the dolphins playing in the shallows and teasing him to come out farther. He sometimes would swim out too far, only to have one of the dolphins nuzzle him back up to shore. He loved these amazing sea creatures, and although they did not speak the same language, they shared a common bond of life. The creatures here—the many shells and all of the mysterious things that washed up onto the shore—were the things that gave him a sense of security, wonder, and personal satisfaction. It was relaxing. It was safe. It was home.

His brother had done much more training that he had, because of his status and what he would one day have to do. Argyle understood that. Although there were times when his brother's ego would get the best of him, and he would tease Argyle about not having gone off of the Island as much. Kartan had been many places off Island, and much farther away than Argyle could imagine ever wanting to go. His place was here, with his family and his friends.

His skills were not to be mistaken, by any means. He was as strong and cunning as any warrior on the Island, but his nature was not as aggressive as his brother's, and his desire to leave their Island home diminished more each year. He would hold down the fort on the Island, while his brother played the hero. That was fine with Argyle, and his father enjoyed having the help around their home as well when Kartan was away on his training expeditions.

#

Argyle heard a knock at the door. It was the news of the death of Argyle's brother—the first son and Chosen One for the Journey of the Millennium. Argyle was just coming into the main hall for breakfast. He heard his mother crying, and watched as his father received the news from the messenger at the door. Argyle could see his father's anger and anguish were obvious in his eyes, as Argyles’ mother collapsed in overwhelming grief over the news. Kartan had been traveling back from battles in the east, clearing the way for the pending Millennium Journey, when the party was ambushed, leaving only a messenger alive to bring the news of the massacre.

There was little chance the invaders would come to the Island as the long bridge was the only way in or out, and rats hate the water. Not because it's wet, but because of what dwells there, and how much it adores the taste of rat.

The entire family had lost their appetites, and Argyle's father looked up at him as he entered the room, then turned and went out the front door, slamming it with anger, sadness, and disdain. His growls could be heard for miles around the Island. Argyle's mother sat in a lump on the floor in front of the table, sobbing uncontrollably. Unable to speak, she looked up at Argyle and reached for his paw to help her up. He did so, taking his mother to him and consoling her weakened heart.

Not understanding his conflicting emotions of sadness and relief, Argyle was flushed with guilt. Of course, he was saddened by this news. How awful to lose a sibling. Even more so, for his parents to lose one of their litter. But deep inside, Argyle felt a bit of relief from the news. He was no longer the younger one shadowed by the older’s accomplishments and goals. He was no longer the caretaker of the Chosen One, always doing the bidding in preparation for his brother's pending journey to save the world. It was off his back, for this moment. But something was coming that Argyle could not have imagined at the introverted moment of conflicted glee.

As evening fell, the funeral pyres lit the night sky along the water's edge. The ceremony was somber. A sense of hopelessness was palpable within the crowd. Argyle knew his mother and father were sad, angry, devastated by the loss of their oldest son. And what a son he had been. Argyle had long ago come to terms with the accomplishments of his brother, but it was how Kartan had treated him that was less than noble. Ego does strange things to some. The drums and chanting suddenly stopped, as if sound had been snuffed from the universe all together. The silence was louder than the drums had been. The high priest rose to his feet, well above the group, and gave his sermon. The quiver of his voice made Argyle uneasy. It was as though he knew something the rest did not. There was a hopelessness, a dread in his voice of something coming that could not be stopped.

Argyle did not sleep well that night. His dreams were more intense than ever. Visions of hideous rats and other creatures unknown to him in the dark woods, chasing him to kill him and others running. He awoke howling in terror, awakening to his mother and father at his bedside. Confused and deranged from sleep, he asked, "Did I wake you? I am sorry if I did. It was my night visions again."

"No", his father said. "You did not wake us. We have come to talk to you about something."

Argyle knew the tone of his father's voice meant he was serious. This alarmed Argyle, and he sat up in bed more alert now. "What is it, Father?" he asked. Looking to his mother, he said, "Mother?"

"Argyle, you know Kartan was our first born..."

"Yes, of course," he interrupted.

She continued, "...but with that came great responsibility. A task had been bestowed upon him that he embraced and bravely accepted. Now that he is gone, it jeopardizes our way of life, as we have no one from our corner of the world to send to the Tower for this millennium."

His father said, "Son, what we are trying to say is that you are now our oldest son. This means the task has come to you. It is your destiny. And according to the ways of the Universe, it always has been." He stared desperately into Argyle's eyes trying to impress upon him the importance of these words. Argyle sank into his thoughts. The years of disdain for Kartan being "the Chosen One," all coming to the surface, when now, it seems, his disdain was actually for himself. The Universe has a way of twisting and turning beyond imagination at times, but this was overwhelming him.

Argyle looked at his parents. "I can't be the Chosen One," he said. "I've never wanted to be a hero, or save the world. I've just wanted to be left alone. Respected. Maybe have a liter of my own one day. A simple dog. All of the things that Kartan enjoyed as a way of life, now come crashing on my feet at his demise? The shadow of my brother has not been a warm place to be in this life, and now the world has come to me to save it?" he said. "And now, not only do I have to pick up my pieces and move forward in his wake, I am being asked to pick up his life and live it as well? What is this fortune? This hell? My brother is dead, and now my life has to be exchanged so that I can live his!?" Argyle was now standing in the middle of his room. His parents still sat on the bed.

"Argyle," his mother began as she put her paw onto his, "this is not what our intentions have been, and if you have been shadowed by your brother's life, then that is our error. Your father and I are deeply sorry for our blindness to your pain. We did not realize you had these deep, hidden feelings. Both of your lives are important to us. You are different from one another. Each unique in your own ways, with separate gifts to give the world and to share."

"Son," Argyle's father cut in, "you are a part of a lineage of noble creatures that have dedicated their lives to keeping our way of life and the power of good in this world. There is no greater task, and no more noble existence than to be chosen from our corner of the world to help bring in another millennium of good to the Universe. I cannot make you go, but you must consider your destiny carefully. You are not chosen because of your brother's death. You are chosen because you have been the Chosen One all along. Not knowing the truth until now is our misfortune."

Argyle's parents began to leave his room, then his mother turned to him and said, "Please forgive us, Argyle, for not knowing this before now. It is our fault that you now have this burden upon you."

Argyle sat on his bed with his head in his paws, and his mind spinning with confusion. The sun was making its way above the horizon line of the vast ocean. He heard a commotion outside his window, down near the street, and he went to the window to hear more clearly. He heard two passersby conversing on the path. “Without Kartan, the next millennium will surely be our last,” said one stranger to the other.

“You may be right, but there's still much time before those rats come all the way out here,” said the other. Argyle stared out to the water—the dolphins jumping in the surf, the pelicans swooping close to the water's surface. How he loved to watch them along the shore.

#

Argyle’s parents were seated at a rustic, hand-carved, wooden table. Celtic knots embraced the legs and made their way across the top of the table, eventually making up the tree of life emblem on the top of its round surface; warm fresh sweet bread sat in the middle of the table for breakfast. They continued to talk.

"Argyle must realize he is now an adult, and the Universe has brought a great gift to him! A responsibility to his people!" said his father.

"But, Furgal, this is not a normal situation," Kirwyn said. "He has lost his brother; we have lost a son! Nothing about this has been expected, and it hardly resembles a gift! Time will give him the answers he needs to find himself. If I know anything at all about Argyle, he will find his way, but he will do it on his own, in his own way. We will let him embrace his destiny, however he sees fit."

The morning finally broke the restless night with the rising of the sun. The colors of the sky were exceptionally brilliant and contained every color of the rainbow. Sparse clouds drifted to the east across the sky as if gently pulled along on a string. Argyle awoke, briefly forgetting everything that had happened the day before and the night visions. But that was short-lived. He sank in his bed for a moment, then decided to brush it all off, and get out for a bit of morning air. He was wise enough to know that the outdoors would do his mind some good, and the morning was perfectly welcoming him to a walk in the crisp air.

He walked a familiar path along the shore, listening for dolphins calling. His eyes scanned the incoming waves for the glimpse of a dorsal or two. Nothing today. Maybe they were off hunting this morning, and an evening walk would find them on this side of the Island. No matter. The pelicans skimmed the tops of the waves just the same, giving Argyle all the visually relaxing imagery he needed for the moment. Suddenly, a faint call from the distance behind him got his attention. It was his friend, Jordan. A short, but slim figure, looking somewhat malnourished. Although he was well-nourished indeed, he certainly had some genetic mishap shaping his looks. His mind, and heart, were another matter. He was, in fact, Argyle's closest and dearest friend—honorable, tenacious, and sincere.

"Your parents told me you might be out here", he said. "I've been sent to find you."

"Find me? For what?" Argyle responded.

"There is to be a ceremony next week in preparation for your journey. We have much to do now, Argyle. There is little time to spare."

Argyle pondered the words of his friend, and the gravity of the matter—and his new role in all of it—hit him like a flash of bright light. There was much to do. But what, exactly?

"The Master wants to see you today," Jordan said. "I have been assigned to you to help you prepare." He smiled.

Argyle looked him in the eyes. "Then prepare is what we shall do," he said. The two turned back towards the village, and continued down the beach, talking and laughing. Argyle was comforted by his friend's participation. It was a good distraction from the negative aspects of the situation. This was a serious time for everyone on the Island, and Argyle had no time to be selfish. It wasn't really his nature anyway.

The master had given Jordan many of the old scriptures to study with Argyle. There seemed to be much more to all of this than he realized. His brother had never spoken of what he knew of the journey. They studied day and night. Reading the documents, and going over the rituals for the Gathering at the Tower of Darbone. There were specific tasks for all of the Chosen Ones, and everyone would have their own part to play when the time came. For now, the time had come for Argyle to take the first steps. The ceremony was tomorrow. He would leave in two days. He knew he had the physical abilities. He was a strong fighter. But his spiritual stature was not as stable or solid as his brother's had been. All his life he had questioned the church, and the leaders, and even God Himself. This was especially true in recent days. Nevertheless, he was true to his values, and his family, and would never let them down, regardless of his own perspective about spiritual matters. This task was far greater than him, and it was an honor to be chosen. He knew this, and would not only represent his kind, he would honor his family and his brother's life in taking on this responsibility. This was his destiny, and it was now clearer than ever. However the Universe revealed it to him, it was his, and his alone.

He ate quietly at the table that evening with his mother and father. Small talk about his preparations was about all that was said. Mostly by his mother, making certain he had packed his provisions properly. His father was more concerned with his gear, weaponry, and the like. The food was good. Better than usual, although it was nothing out of the ordinary. It just seemed liked he was tasting the meal for what it was. His family's way. His mother's cooking. Familiar and warm. Something he would not have for many months to come. He slept well that night, waking only to his mother sitting at the end of his bed in the morning.

"I made you some biscuits," she said. "With your favorite jam. Come down when you're ready." Then she left.

He sat up on the edge of the bed and looked out at the ocean. The sun was squeezing through dark clouds on the horizon. Storms were approaching from the west. Maybe they'd be through by the time he was to leave tomorrow. He could hear other voices downstairs, and as he entered the room, he could see Jordan and his father discussing the details of the day's ceremonial proceedings. The master had already laid out what Jordan was to do, and the first thing was to make certain that Argyle was not late.

"Good morning, Argyle," Jordan said. He was always optimistic, and exceptionally happy in the mornings. And while this could be annoying at times, this morning, Argyle found it comforting.

"Good morning, Jordan my friend," he said. "I suppose you are making sure I don't back out at the last minute." He laughed.

"Never crossed my mind," said Jordan. "We do have to be there a tad early, so that there's enough time for everyone to arrive for the ceremony, and the Master wanted to have a brief word with you beforehand as well. Last minute instructions or something of the like I'm sure," he said.

"Then we shan't disappoint him,” said Argyle. “Eat up Jordan, we've got to get going."

#

Argyle gathered his things, so carefully stacked at the door, and embraced his father and mother. "I'll see you at the ceremony," he said. He and Jordan set off down the path towards the church, where the bells had already begun ringing. They didn't sound like regular church bells, but more like ancient metal gongs. Powerful, endless ringing washing through his soul. He could feel the vibrations in his bones. The sound they made was significantly different today. It was like they were vibrating a message from the Universe. So much so that when Argyle closed his eyes, he could see the vibrations resonating in purple and blue washes through his mind, like the souls of spirits calling to him and passing through him simultaneously. Argyle reached into his sporran and pulled out a small leather pouch. The leather was made from white rabbit from the eastern mountains of the Island. It was the only place in the world that this creature was found. They are said to have magical powers of protection and wisdom. Inside the pouch were two stones. One was a clear, naturally-formed crystal with perfectly pointed ends. The second was a rough, purple stone. Unfinished, dirt was even trapped within its rough surface. It had twenty sides, and on each side was a different rune. Argyle's father had given the stones to him after his brother had passed. It is these very stones that generations of Chosen Ones had carried with them for wisdom and protection, and for the Tower ritual. The twenty-sided stone was significant for this ritual, and the one who carried it, carried great responsibility for his people. The others coming would have similar stones, with similar powers, and all imperative in their role.

He placed the stones back in the pouch and slipped it back into his sporran. He took a deep breath and made his way to the church door. Jordan was already there, holding it open for his friend, smiling as always. Light cut through the doorway and into the darkness inside the church like magical beams. The others had not arrived just yet, and Argyle could hardly see inside. The white coral altar was dressed with lit candles, sea oat flowers, and an enormous book opened to a specific section. In front of the altar, the Master was kneeling in silence with his head bowed and his back to Argyle.

He spoke, "Master Jordan, if you don't mind, I will need a word with Argyle alone please."

"Yes, Master," said Jordan, and he made his way back out the door, gently closing it behind him. The rays of light vanished and the warm glow of the candles filled the space with a quiet calmness that Argyle was almost distracted by, as if each candle flame was a soul unto itself. The bell gong was growing faint as they had stopped, signifying the Chosen One had arrived. He approached the Master.

"Be with me here, Argyle."

Argyle bowed down to the right of the Master.

"Argyle, you have prepared much, and all we can do in our preparation is gain the skills we need to address whatever situation may come. I know that you are ready, and that you would not be here beside me at this moment if you were not." He turned to look at Argyle. His eyes were glowing with a faint blue light. Argyle had never seen anything like it, and was startled, but amazed at the same time. The Master asked, "Do you have the stones with you?"

"Yes," responded Argyle. He reached into his sporran, and brought out the pouch, handing it to the Master. The Master said a few words, that Argyle did not understand, and then he held the pouch high above his bowed head. Argyle watched in awe. The candles grew brighter and brighter. The bells gave a single tone ring, and in a sudden flash of light, all of the candles went out. All but one. The candle in front of Argyle remained lit and undisturbed. Placing the pouch in front of Argyle, The Master picked up the candle and handed it to Argyle and spoke.

"Within this flame are the souls of all of the Chosen Ones before you. You carry a tradition that is far greater than us all, and is one that defines our culture and place within the Universe. This place in the Universe is kept safe by the balance we keep with this ritual quest we have created with the other species of the world. It is sacred. It is greater than yourself. But most importantly, you are the vessel to carry our burden to the Tower of Darbone. No one but you can make this journey for our people. You must believe in yourself every step of the way, even when you don't think you can. The things that you will see on this journey are unlike anything you have ever been exposed to. When the time comes, you will know what to do."

Argyle looked into his eyes with wonder. Coming in he had felt ready, capable, secure in his heart. Now he wasn't as sure. He felt shaken inside. He would surely not share these feelings with the Master. Not now, not today, not ever. He buried the thoughts, and looked down at the candlelight.

He could hear voices approaching the church outside. The Master rose to his feet, and turned towards the door. Argyle stood up beside him with the candle in his hands. The doors opened, and a small procession began coming into the church. Friends, family, schoolmates, fellow warriors, and younger pups. Everyone was there to see him off, and to pray for protection on his journey. His mother came to the front row and sat. His father was at her side. Jordan sat with his family and many others. The crowd watched reverently.

The Master spoke, "Today, we have reached a special time in our history and tradition. The time when our Chosen One begins his journey to the Tower of Darbone for the well-being of all that is good in the world. This tradition has been repeated over many millennia, and while we are hopeful in his and the success of all of the Chosen Ones, we gather here to ask the Universe for special protection and assistance where needed for the task at hand. The power must always remain balanced. If any of the chosen few should fail, then the balance would be severely affected. For it is the desire of good to keep the balance even, while the evil ones would rather have no good at all. This is not our destiny, and so today, our Chosen One, Argyle, begins his quest with God in his heart, and many souls surrounding him, and his family and friends supporting him here today. He is ready. He is prepared. And he is the Chosen One. Please come greet him with your hearts and wishes as the bells sound for the last time until his return.”

His family sat still as people came up from the back of the church to speak to him. Hand-shakes and pats on his shoulders.

"Good luck, son," said one of the old ones.

"Thank you, sir," Argyle replied. For a brief moment, in Argyle's mind, it was like being at his own funeral. But he knew that wasn't the case. It was just strange, and different. This ceremony came once every thousand years. It was surely different. Finally, Jordan made his way up through the procession.

"I am proud to call you my friend, Argyle. We never dreamed this would happen, but I cannot think of a better person for the job." Jordan heard his own words and seemed a bit startled. "I'm sorry, I meant no disrespect to your brother."

Argyle stopped him. "Don't worry, your heart is pure with me. I knew what you meant."

Jordan gave Argyle a strong embrace. "Take care of yourself and don't make me come get you! I'll do it!" he joked.

Argyle's mother was next. She looked at him like never before. Her eyes filled with pride, and tears. “I have always known you were special, and now you show me why. The burden you carry is far greater than a mother would ever put on her own child, but you are not a child any longer, Argyle. You are an adult, and one with many more gifts than anyone could see. The Universe will protect you, but you have to listen to its messages. Don't let things cloud your ability to hear the voices that protect you." She gave him a warm hug, and a kiss on his cheek, and turned away. Tears filled her eyes, but she could not let him see.

His father was last in line and grabbed him with great strength and pride. Argyle had never felt this from his father before, but now everything was different between them. Argyle was filled with confidence from his father's support, and the deep look into his soul told of his love for him.

"Never travel at night," he said, "only during the day. And early. Take care of your provisions so that you do not run out, and most of all protect the stones. They will do the same for you when the time comes. We will be here when you return. Be well, my son." He turned and joined Argyle's mother.

The Master stood behind the altar with the great book open, and he began reading in the ancient tongue. Argyle understood everything that he was saying, but only because of his studies. The Master's eyes had stopped glowing blue, and Argyle noticed that the candle he held had nearly gone out. The Master closed the book and came around the altar, taking Argyle by the paw and leading him to the door. The Master opened the door allowing the rays of light to cut into the darkness of the church. Argyle could hardly see outside. The Master stopped short of the entrance and embraced Argyle. "The Universe is with you always. Everything you need has been provided for. All you have to do is remain pure of heart, and simply ask for it. Fair thee well Argyle, Son of Furgal, Brother of Kartan."

The bells began ringing again as Argyle stepped out of the church alone. The congregation remained inside according to tradition, and just like that, his journey had begun. His provisions were all there, along with the scrolls and his sword. Jordan had prepared everything. He gathered his things and he began walking silently down the path, listening to the bells as he walked towards the long bridge. The dolphins were many along the shore that day, as if they knew he would be passing by. The surf was crashing down. He knew he would have many challenges, but he also knew that he was simply an instrument of a larger power. If he were doing this just for himself, it would be an impossible journey, but this was not the case. He was a vessel, as the Master had stated, and he simply needed to depend upon the Universe to guide him every step of the way. What lay ahead he did not know, but it was his destiny to find out.

He stopped at the beginning of the long bridge and looked back at his village. The bells continued sounding. He looked and pondered many things. It was time. He turned and began walking onto the bridge. As he walked, he could hear the bells' sound getting fainter and fainter until they were no more. A gentle fog rolled across the bridge as he crossed. By mid-morning, he was in the middle of the bridge, and there was no sound but the ocean beneath, and the pelicans skimming the water in search of food. It was calm and peaceful. For now.