9-3
In a voice that was neither welcoming nor stern but only confident and efficient, the lord spoke out. “Stranger from the forest. What business do you have for the council of Kundz?”
Syffox recognized the lord’s demeanour as that of a well-experienced general. He replied softly and used his magic to customarily carry his voice about the room. “Lords, officers, and people of Kundz, I am Syffox.” He bowed as his voice settled in their ears. “My disciples and I come from the forest on behalf of our Goddess Vantaiga.”
The people around the chamber jostled uneasily. Instead of soothing and reassuring, the suspicious people of Kundz found Syffox’s detached voice eerily out of place. It seemed to them as if an unearthly spirit was communicating to them.
The lord’s brow furrowed. “There are no goddesses in our heavens.” A bit of irritation crept into his well-controlled tone. “You are speaking nonsense.”
“Rest assured, I would never try to fool you. My Goddess now sits on high with the rest of the gods of our world.” Syffox looked about the hall to address everyone. “It is understandable that you have not heard of her. She is a new Goddess that has only recently arisen. We would greatly enjoy showing you where she sits among the stars of the heavens and to tell you about her and her forest.”
“And what would we want to know of the forest? It is only home to monsters and spectres. Most of those that venture into the forest never return. Those that do vow never to go back. If it encroaches further on our territory, we will station a garrison there to cull it.”
“Oh, you have nothing to fear of the forest’s progress. It is only because you are not familiar with it. There are many among my people who would say your lands are bad and not to be trusted. However, we both know that the land is neither bad nor good, only that it is to be respected.”
“And what respect does your goddess demand?”
“My Goddess is not one to make demands. She only wishes you to understand the forest and what it has to offer. If you build a temple to her, so that we may teach you about the forest, she will bestow a gift to your city and people.”
The lord’s rigid stance broke as he scoffed. “We are men of metal in Kundz. What gift could your trees and goddess offer other than wood for our smelters?”
Syffox clenched his teeth but quickly regained his composure. “The forest has much more to offer than firewood, I assure you. There is a tree in the forest that is as hard as metal.” Syffox waved his hand over the floor and a sapling emerged from the stone. It rose to his waist and sprouted many branches and leaves. At the ends of the branches bloomed clusters of white and purple flowers. From these flowers dangled long seed pods. There was a stirring around the room and many of those sitting stood up.
“Not only is this tree attractive, but it will also stand against your greatest axes.” Syffox pulled off a clump of flowers along with its pod. He peeled open the pod and deposited the seeds into his hand. He clenched the seeds and, with a bit of magic, roasted them in his fist. He stripped off the flower’s petals and added them to the small handful of nuts. “It also has a delicious seed, and the flowers are edible as well.” He popped a few of the nuts and flowers into his mouth.
As he chewed, he walked over to the hosting lord. He reached up to give him the remainder of his snack. The lord looked awkwardly about the hall before stiffly reaching down and taking the strange offering. Syffox gestured for him to eat before turning back to the centre of the chamber. “But the nuts are only a nice summer treat. The wood is the real prize of this hidden treasure of the forest.”
The lord looked dubiously at his handful of petals and nuts. He poked them with a finger before cautiously putting a single seed in his mouth. A hint of surprise cracked onto the his face as he bit it. He popped a second nut into his mouth before emptying his hand on the banister.
This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.
Syffox returned to the small sapling at the centre of the room. As he walked, he noticed a new group of observers gathering in the entranceway of the hall. The bright yellow eyes and rays embroidered on their robes gave them away to be clerics of Coronus. Syffox did not pay them much concern. He’d known they would eventually appear.
He returned his attention to the small tree. “The wood from this tree can be carved and fashioned into all manner of weapons if you so wish: unbreakable spears, indestructible maces.” He plucked out from the centre of the tree the thin rod of its heartwood.
Syffox passed his fingers along the length of the white and slightly slick wood. At his touch, the supple rod hardened and cured into a deep brown, marked with the dark fibres of the wood’s grain. With the tips of his fingers, he pulled at one end, and the wood stretched into a fine point. At the other end, he circled his fingers around, and feathers sprouted from the shaft.
He looked to the lord as he used his fingernail and magic to notch the end. “You can even make an arrow that can pierce any armour.” He held up the arrow for all in the chamber to see. “If you have the tools, knowledge, and patience to shape the wood to your will, that is.” He met the eyes of the priests of Coronus. “As it will not yield to force.”
With a simple fluid motion, Syffox unshouldered his bow and flipped it around in one hand. As he did so, he used his magic to bend the bow and have it string itself, the leather wrap falling away. In a single motion, Syffox nocked the arrow, pulled back the string, and released the missile into one of the plain bronze shields along the wall.
The bow gave a piercing crack as it launched the projectile into the shield. The arrow struck with a BANG! that reverberated throughout the chamber. The audience jolted to attention. Some jumped out of their chairs and benches from the buffeting echoes about the room. The other mounted shields hummed in sympathy to the clamour.
The officer, as well as several soldiers, instinctively reached for their swords, their hair and hackles on edge. Syffox grimaced but kept his composure and used magic to block his ears. He had forgotten how loud enclosed spaces could be. His arrow remained stuck in the shield, punctured through at the centre of a wicked dent.
The lord presiding over the hall merely twisted his head sideways with a pained look on his face. The clerics of Coronus, on the other hand, were clearly rattled and fumbled for their wands and staves. A slight grin formed on Syffox’s face. He found their reliance on props to be quaint.
As the rattling clash subsided, a din of shuffling and murmuring began to arise. Syffox did not need his sensitive hearing to discern the curses spoken amongst them. The lord of the hall called for silence.
“You make an impressive show, and our generals will wish to consider it. But if you want to build the faith of the people of Kundz, it appears the clerics who tend this city wish to have a say.”
Syffox concealed a curse under his breath. The priests of Coronus were not known for being open and accepting. He had hoped to skip their approval by talking to the lords directly. He turned to face the gathering at the entrance.
An elder cleric stepped forward from the group. He displayed his power with a confident stride. Wisps of fog trailed behind him as he overcharged his store of magic. It was a sign of posturing that, along with the wand in his hand, was almost comical to the ancient mage. Syffox did not wish to insult or demean the cleric, so he remained respectful. “Greetings, fellow padre, what say you of my offer and my Goddess?”
The cleric of Coronus smiled arrogantly. “You barge into our city and disrupt the presiding of our lords with an offer to divide our following. The people of Kundz are an orderly people that do not tolerate disrespect.”
Syffox looked at him with humble confidence. “My apologies. We are not here to divide your people but to add to your resources and understanding. I certainly mean no disrespect.”
“Then you and your people will show respect for our ways and our customs?”
“Of course. Have I not been respectful?”
“Where is your tribute?”
Syffox looked puzzled. “My tribute?”
The priest replied with a smug tone, “Yes. It is our custom that before you enter someone’s house for the first time, you pay tribute to the household.”
“Then my deepest apologies. Let me personally conjure up another treasure of the forest for you.” Syffox drew out his hand, but his rival interrupted him.
“It is too late. You have already barged in. The tribute is to determine if you are a worthy enough guest to enter our home. If you enter without offering tribute, then we get to choose what you will give.”
Syffox replied solemnly, “I don’t believe I barged in. I am familiar with this custom, but I do not remember it being this way or that it applies to a home of office.”
The high priest of the city became indignant. “Do you doubt me? This has been our custom and way since all time—since the days my grandfather was a child, since my grandfather’s grandfather was a child.”
Syffox humbled himself. “Oh, you will have to forgive me, then. It has been a long time since I travelled this land. I am unfamiliar with your new ways.”
“You are a fool, stranger, to mock us. You have entered the house of our city and we demand to be honoured. You will give us your bow!”
