Banners of The Sa'yen, page 11
The Lord looked at me, then turned His gaze to Fadah. I glanced at Tallsus and saw the tall gunner smiling, pleased at the old man’s words, and it occurred to me that Tallsus knew more of this old man than he had mentioned to us. But the Lord looked upon Fadah and voiced His desire to see the best of the old man’s weapons. Happily, the old man nodded his head and asked the Lord to follow him. And slowly the old armorer moved back through the curtain of beads and stopped at the base of a long, narrow flight of wooden stairs. Looking up at the Lord, the old man shrugged his shoulders and smiled a toothless grin.
“In my youth, My Lord, I experimented with many formulas to perfect my technique of making fine steel. Once, a long, long time ago in my youth, I journeyed far to the east and sought out an old man who lived high up in a mountain cave. A Charolarl Priest, My Lord. One of the White Sash.”
The Lord looked at me for clarification. I whispered into His ear what a White Sash was for a Charolarl Priest. For that sect, the White Sash was the ultimate goal. One could not go higher, and only the Charolarl Priests knew who their White Sashed elders were. Yet it was rumored that there were not more than ten such high officials of the order. For Fadah to find such a priest in his early youth must have been an unprecedented experience. He continued his story.
“This ancient priest, My Lord, knew the lore of the Ancient Kings and he taught me much. I stayed with him for years, My Lord, and was honored in being taught much in the mystical arts of mixing liquids together to cure fine steel. This priest was an old, old man, and he was near to death. Aye! Even a White Sashed Charolarl Priest dies, My Lord. So as death approached, he wanted to teach me as much as he could, and together we experimented in making steel with formulas handed down by the Ancient Kings themselves. We made rapiers of steel so flexible and resilient that one could take it in a mailed glove and bend the blade double without breaking it! Yet the edge of such a weapon always held. We made weapons, Lord, that could cut through armor plate and yet not lose their razor’s touch. We made chain mail that was impervious to any arrow or sword thrust The formula was long and complex. Too long for a mortal mind to remember alone. He gave me an ancient scroll that was aged and brown from long years. And it had the processes written on it For years after the death of the priest I followed that formula in making my weapons. And then, disaster struck met A shop I owned far to the south, in the city of Ka-dash, erupted in fire and burned to the ground while I was out on business. My family, then young and unknowing, fled to safety, but left behind the scroll with the secret formula. It was consumed in flames and lost forever!
“I was never to copy the excellence of steel that the formula gave to me again. As much as I tried, I could not remember all that the formula said, and even to this day, I yet rack my mind in trying to remember the many steps that had to be taken in an ordered manner to make the steel of the Ancient Kings. But alas! I can only remember so much of the formula. But not all. Sadly, I used as much of the formula as I could remember, and from those fragments, I made a reputation of being the best armorer on Hungar. But the formula of the Ancient Kings made me look like a child to them, Lord. Aye, I made fine weapons never before seen by mortals with the formula that I could remember. And I grew rich and famous. Out there, in the ground floor of my shop, My Lord, are the weapons I make from the formula that I yet remember. But up these stairs, in a private display of my own, I have an assorted collection of the best chain mail and edged weapons I made using the formula of the Ancient Kings. The full formula! Come, My Lord! Allow this old, ancient figure to ascend these stairs and show you what the Ancient Kings fought and died with!”
The Lord nodded, smiling in pleasure at seeing the old armorer’s best. And then on an impulse, He made a gesture that would add to His already large legend as being a strangely kind and gentle god of war. He bent down and suddenly swept up in His arms the bent, ancient figure of the old armorer, and holding him like a baby, flew up the narrow, steep flight of stairs with such a speed that Tallsus and I had almost to run to keep up with Him! But to the best of our ability we followed the Lord through a small door the old armorer pointed to. We entered a small room, richly carpeted with fine tapestries and a deep, richly thick, dark red carpet. In one comer was a rough iron tripod on which a large iron kettle hung from a chain. Below the pot, and on a block of wide granite slab, was a small fire. Within the pot bubbled hot brew of fine horse tea—an ancient, almost forgotten relic of the past that was once a standard ritual of all who worshipped the Sa’yen. I remember my father’s large, wide wagon of the Ha’valli. In his wagon would be found the iron tripod With the chain and the kettle filled with horse tea. My father was one of the ancient followers of the Sa’yen. And for him, the ancient ways of worshipping the Sa’yen were the best. Seeing the pot and the tripod, with the small fire keeping the hot tea simmering, I was flooded with a sadness and a deep longing. It had been years, so many years, since I had last seen my father. Reluctantly, and with much effort, I pulled my thoughts away from my dead father and looked upon the face of the Sa’yen. And seeing that He stood in the middle of the carpeted, tapestried room with glowing eyes of surprise, I turned to look the room over myself. I was startled at what I saw I Along one wall, a wall hidden by a large tapestry of a wild hunting scene on a snowcapped mountain, were life-sized mannequins dressed in full armor and fine, expensive clothing. My eyes were immediately captured by two full sets of plate armor, completely enclosing the figures, and sitting on a life-sized replica of a Mountain Hiirli, with lances in one hand extended as if charging at a foe. They faced each other, lances down as if to charge, and looked so fantastically real that I had to reach out and touch them. I found the fountain Hiirli to be a stuffed animal so cunningly made as to appear genuinely real! Amazed at such a sight, I turned and looked upon the face of the Lord and smiled.
“Aye, a fine example of the taxidermist art, eh, warrior?” remarked Fadah. “But come, let me show My Lord a truly exquisite pair of weapons that can only be for Him. Come, My Lord, come!”
Fadah the Armorer stepped to a far corner of the room, and from an unmounted mannequin’s hands he took the long, heavy blade of an unusually designed rapier and handed it to the Sa’yen.
“Try this, My Lord. An old design for a rapier, it is true, Sire. A design perfected in the city of Hakad years ago. Yet, made with the steel of the Ancient Kings. There is no blade on the entire planet finer than that one, My Lord!”
I saw the Lord take the weapon from the old man’s hands and heft it in His, then smile and shout in delight Pleased and excited, the Lord took up the classical stance of a fencing master and made two blinding passes with the sword at an imaginary opponent And the smile on His face broadened with infinite pleasure at the weapon’s feel. Nodding at seeing the Lord so pleased, I did not see the old armorer approach me with a similar sword in his wrinkled old hands, until he spoke.
“Here, warrior, try this one. It is the sister to the one the Lord has in His hands now. A matched pair I made in my youth in a cave high up in the Black Pillar Mountains, far to the east of us. Here! Try the feel of this weapon and face the Lord. Touch swords with the Lord and experience their balance. You both will never feel better balanced, lighter weapons in your lives!”
Stunned at this unexpected honor, I took the weapon from the armorer’s hands and almost shouted myself with delight. Such a long, heavy looking blade, yet so incredibly light in my hand! And so finely balanced that it seemed to have been made for my hand and my hand only. Smiling, I stepped up and saluted the Lord with a wide grin on my lips. The bearded Master returned my salute, smiling at me, and we touched swords. We parried with each other in our happiness at the weapons we held. For a few heartbeats we danced back and forth, the song of steel sounding pleasant and soothing to our ears. Such incredible weapons. The sword fairly danced in my hand! Pleased and delighted, we stepped back, sweat on our brows yet happy as children at finding something precious and wonderful.
“Aye? Have you ever felt such a weapon, My Lord? And you, warrior, you with the heavy shoulders and thick arms. I have never seen a mere mortal handle a blade as you do! If this were not the Sa’yen standing here with us, I would say you were the finest swordsman my old eyes had ever beheld!”
“Aye, Master Fadah, truly a wonderful weapon. And wish I that I could afford such a beauty,” I said, smiling and a bit embarrassed at the old man’s flattery.
“Eh? Afford such a weapon? It is yours, warrior! Being in the entourage of the Sa’yen is the price you pay, warrior. And wish I that I were young enough to follow the Sa’yen southward. Aye, that is the second best blade I forged. The sister to the weapon that the Lord holds now in His hand. It is yours, warrior! Wear and use it with pride! Now, as to the mail you may need, My Lord. That I have, of such light weight You will never think that You wear mail at all. Here. Here it is. Let me strip this manna-quin, and You may try it on.”
The old man’s hands stripped the figure of a light mail and handed it to the Lord. The Sa’yen took the mail and, following the old armorer, disappeared into a small room to dress. Looking at Tallsus, I grinned and tossed him the sword. He caught it by the pommel and hefted it up to feel the balance of the blade. He smiled, nodded at me, and tossed the weapon back to me.
“A wonderful thing, that blade. Fadah is truly the best armorer in the world, Magdar!”
“Aye, I think that is the truth, Tallsus. But tell me, how is it that you know so much about Fadah the Armorer?”
The tall cannoneer glanced at his feet and his complexion turned a bright red. There was a sheepish smile on his face and, looking up, he started to answer. But downstairs we heard the beads of the curtain separate, and then the voice of a woman spoke the old armorer’s name. Tallsus and I stood still as we heard footsteps come up the narrow stairs. The woman called twice old Fadah’s name, and then she entered the small room we stood in. She first looked at me, and I saw fear in her eyes as she swallowed a startled gasp. But Tallsus stepped up and touched her arm gently, and when she turned and saw him I saw something else replace the fear in the young woman’s eyes and I smiled. She was tall for a woman, young, with short-cropped dark brown hair. Her eyes were large, almond-shaped, and she had a boy’s figure. She was dressed in rough peasant’s trousers and a blouse of plain gray cloth. Her skin was smooth and unblemished and, in a boyish way, she was lovely to look upon. I smiled. This was Tallsus’s betrothed. He had spoken of her to me often. Yet he had not mentioned she was related to Fadah the Armorer. I bowed to the young woman who now looked at me curiously as she stood in the arms of the tall ship’s cannoneer.
“Magdar, this is my betrothed, Jamilia, great-granddaughter of Fadah the Armorer. Jamalia, this is my friend and My Lord’s Left Hand, Magdar, called the Bull by his friends and foes alike.”
“I am honored to meet the Sa’yen’s Left Hand and equally pleased to hear he is the friend of my love as well. Welcome, Magdar, to my grandfather’s humble house.”
I bowed again, smiling. She had a voice that was like wonderful music, like a fresh running brook to listen to, and well could I understand Tallsus’s devotion to ber. I started to say something, but the armorer suddenly pulled a curtain back and stepped into the room again, holding the curtain to allow the Lord to enter. Old Fadah did not see his great-granddaughter standing beside Tallsus. Jamilia started to speak to her grandfather but then the Lord stepped into the room in His bearded magnificence, tall and wonderful to look upon. She let out a scream and dropped to her knees, head bowed in fright The Lord indicated the young woman on the floor, and looked at me for an explanation. I smiled, stepped up to His side and quickly explained.
“The great-granddaughter to Fadah the Armorer, My Lord. And she is betrothed to our Tallsus, the lucky devil! Soon to be wedded, I fear. And yet, I would grudge him not.”
“So? Marriage to such a pretty thing, is it? Well then, we must expect a few things from your wife here, Tallsus.” The Lord grinned, looking down at the supplicating form of the woman at His feet. “And the first is this. I cannot tolerate people kowtowing before me, young woman. Stand up and let me look at your face!”
And the Lord bent down and helped the young woman to her feet Jamilia, the great-granddaughter to Fadah the Armorer, was speechless as she came to her feet, one of her small white hands firmly grasping the hand of the Lord. She could not look up into die eyes of the Sa’yen. The Lord took one look at the young, boyish face of the woman, and then smiled at Tallsus.
“Ah, you are a lucky man, Tallsus! Such a lovely face. And I’ll be losing my best ship’s gunner.”
“My Lord, no!” the girl suddenly said, looking up into the face of the Master with serious, wide brown eyes of innocent beauty. “We have decided that even after we marry, his responsibility is to be at Your side, commanding the Black Falcon’s guns. And I would not have it any other way, Sire!”
“Then twice am I a lucky man, my dear. Fll keep such a valuable comrade as your Tallsus is to me, and he will be a most happy man in my command because of you.
That will mean that the Black Falcon’s guns will be well served.”
The boyish face of the young girl beamed up at the Lord in pride and pleasure as the Lord turned and faced me. He had on the long, single-piece suit of chain mail that covered Him from the shoulders clear to His knees. It was a fine, light suit of mail, each small round ring of steel superbly linked to other rings. Each link was small and compact yet the whole suit allowed complete freedom of movement for the wearer and offered protection for every vital and vulnerable portion of the body. I nodded my approval just as old Fadah broke the silence and touched my arm.
“Warrior, I give you, too, a suit of mail such as you see the Master wearing pow. The Left Hand of the Sa’yen should be well protected so that he may protect the Master faithfully. Therefore, take this with my humble blessings. May the sword and this suit of mail preserve and protect you so that you may serve the Lord always!”
Neatly folded in his arms was a suit of chain mail much like the one the Lord wore. And he handed it to me with a toothless wide grin on his wrinkled old face. Not knowing what to say, I took the suit of mail and merely nodded.
“Ah, Magdar!” Tallsus said, smiling broadly at me as he held his beloved close to him. “With such a sword and such a suit of mail, no one except the Lord will be able to stand before you! Ala Sa’yen, to you!”
“Ala Sa’yen, Tallsus.” I nodded, at last finding my tongue and speaking.
Fadah clapped his hands and beamed up at us. Then, tilting his head sideways, he looked at the Lord and made a strange little sound. We all looked at him, and saw him nod his head and turn on his heels, crooking a finger at us to follow as he spoke.
“Sire, I wish to show you my most prized possession. Come! Come! Let me show you a genuine suit of armor actually worn by the Ancient Kings. Come!”
The Lord and I exchanged glances, my face clearly revealing my bewilderment and excitement at seeing such an ancient and sacred thing. A suit of armor worn by the Ancient Kings! How old would such a suit be? A thousand years? Five thousand years? Ten thousand? No one knew! The Ancient Kings lived so far back in the dim past that not even the most wise of the Charolarl Priests knew when the last of them walked this planet So old the suit would be and, if known among the populace of Triisus, so highly prized, that it would be immediately enshrined in a temple built just for it. And Fadah, the ancient Armorer, claimed it as his own! Excitedly, we followed the old armorer across the room and into one dimly lit comer. The armorer bid Jamilia to bring forward a torch so that all might see better. She did and the old armorer stood beside a tall object draped and hidden by a heavy black cloth of fine silk. With brightly burning eyes, he turned and faced us, rubbing his hands together as he again began to cackle with his old, screeching birdlike voice.
“I told you of my stay in the cavern up in the Black Pillar Mountains with the White Sashed Charolarl Priest. I have said that this priest knew much of the lore of the Ancient Kings, did I not? Ah, but did I mention that the priest knew the whereabouts of an Ancient King’s fortress yet intact and complete? Aye! A fortress of the Ancient Kings! And not ransacked or destroyed by defilers. And from this fortress the priest obtained much of the knowledge of the Ancient Kings. And such knowledge, Lord! This priest told me of things that had lights and talked strange languages. Of machines that would write on paper reams upon reams of a strange language. And deep within the bowels of this fortress, the priest said, pulsed the power and heat of a thousand suns! And this White Sashed priest knew the languages of the Ancient Kings.
“Aye, I did not know whether to believe him or not, My Lord. But this was a Charolarl Priest talking to me. And such men do not lie! This old priest was dying and wished to impart to me much knowledge he had learned. And then one day, one rainy day, the priest brought from out of the depths of his cavern this suit of armor, My Lord. And he gave it to me. To Fadah, the Armorer, he gave a genuine suit of armor worn by the Ancient Kings! The priest told me to keep it always hidden and not to tell anyone but my most trusted friends of its existence. He told me that perhaps someday someone would come and tell me how to unleash the secrets this strange suit of armor yet held within it. For the priest quickly warned me that somehow, some way, this suit of armor worn by the Ancient Kings had the power to unleash such devastation as had never before been seen by us poor mortals of Hungar! And such a monster of a suit, My Lord. No mortal my eyes have looked upon could ever wear such a suit. Even you, My Lord, are much too small to fit into this suit Such a strange suit, My Lord. A suit, I think, that possesses a life of its own. A suit of the Ancient Kings!”
And with these last words the old man took hold of the black cloth and whipped it away from the tall figure underneath it. I could not help but yelp with surprise and genuine fear at what lay underneath the black cloth. A mannequin, some ten feet in height, covered from head to foot with a thousand tiny lights that winked on and off continuously. Fine gold wires, or what I took to be gold wires, created a crossed pattern that wove into a thick net around the form of the mannequin, and thousands of tiny points of light blinked on and off continuously within this net. Astounded, speechless, I stepped back and looked upon the face of the Lord. I saw the myriad of lights of the suit glow on the face of the Sa’yen, and I had a deep conviction that the armorer’s words rang with truth. Thi9 suit of the Ancient Kings possessed a life of its own! In the gloom of darkness in his comer of the room, this mannequin dressed in the armor of the Ancient Kings glowed and pulsed with a life that seemed vaguely evil. And the size of the armor! It towered over our heads by a good four feet! Lights of every color continued to wink at us mockingly, taunting us as we stood before it, with awe and genuine fright in our hearts. That is genuine fright in the hearts of myself, Tallsus, Jamilia and even the old form of Fadah the Armorer! For even though he had preserved this gigantic and ancient relic for all his adult life, the armorer had yet to come to accept it without a sense of awe and suppressed terror. And truly, the sight before us was terrifying. To think the Ancient Kings were men standing ten feet tall! Towering over our heads by a good three or four feet or more! Yet, as I watched the Lord, I saw that look come into His face of one who knew exactly what He faced. The Sa’yen knew of the powers of this relic of the Ancient Kings! Stunned, I inadvertently touched the shoulder of the Sa’yen, concerned at the paleness and white mask that was part of the determined look on His face. As if not noticing my hand, the Lord continued to look upon the thousands of lights as He addressed the ancient armorer beside him.
