Read Online Trials of the Hierophant: Vol. II of epic fantasy The Sundered Kingdoms Trilogy by Ethan Risso - Free Book Online
Authors: Ethan Risso
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Féinmhuinín further suffering at the hands of the Duamor.”
Gawain swallowed the lump in his throat and collected his thoughts. “Then you would help the efforts of Arlais? I travel to Eurig to enlist the help of the Duamor king for—”
Neirin shook his head. “I am afraid I cannot.”
“But, my lord, you just said—”
“Were it at all possible, I would see you wipe out every last Hume in this land.”
“Then why will you not help me?”
“Look around you, boy!” Neirin’s anger flared. “Glyndŵr is a dead city! We have but twenty-seven inhabitants within her walls!”
“Twenty-seven?”
“Long have we tasted the Goddess’ smite upon our people. Through our blindness, we brought upon Her wrath. We scorned Her teachings out of anger, and we have been punished for our hubris. We bear no children in this land. We are an effete people, merely shadows passing through this world, waiting for our time to come and the Goddess to grant us sweet release.”
“Then would you not seek Her favor and aid me in my quest?”
Neirin sat silently for a moment. “I cannot ask any of the Féinmhuinín to bear your burden when I, myself, am unwilling to participate in war. I will pledge the Reibirian forces to you, however. We will keep only what we need for defensive measures and you may recruit the rest for your effort.”
“I thank you, my lord.”
“I will have Taí make the arrangements.”
“My lord, there is but one more boon I must ask of you.”
“What is it?”
“A friend of mine, he was injured at the clansmeet.”
“Ah, yes, the attack by the mercenaries.”
“They used Féinmhuinín poison on their arrows, in an effort to have blame fall on your people for the attack. I know of no antidote. I hope you have the answer I seek.”
“If there is an antidote, its formula would have been housed in this library and long ago lost to us. We have not used such poisons in centuries. It is unknown to me how the mercenaries were even capable of using such arrows. Believe me, though, I am certain to learn of how such treachery was accomplished.”
“Then I can do nothing,” Gawain said under his breath.
“While I do not know of an antidote, I can only think of one place that you may seek answers. Travel across the Bæðweg Glæs’ waters to the Īeg Searian. The ancients who dwell there may hold the key to your friend’s survival. Though, nobody has seen them in centuries. Only there can I think to send you, but do not dare to hope.”
Gawain slumped back in the chair, feeling defeated. He had heard stories of the ancient folk who lived across the seas on their island. In truth, it was not an island. A thin land bridge north of Gweliwch on the border of Cythroghl linked Dweömer and Īeg Searian. The Gethin made their homes in the mountains though, and the bridge was comprised of nothing but hazardous marshlands and rock spires which jutted from the sea’s edge. It was nearly impossible to reach the Īeg Searian by land.
The journey over the Bæðweg Glæs was a perilous one as well. In Hume tongue, it was The Sea of Glass, named for the icy rock formations which plagued ships attempting to cross. There had been few ships to make it to the island, and fewer still to return to speak of it. It was a land rumored to hold riches in timber and minerals, but it had been generations since either Annwyd or any of the Cærwynian provinces had dared to send an expedition.
Would he truly find Connor’s salvation in the savage land upon which few had set foot? Were it merely fantasy, he must still tell Connor of his findings. If only to grant him hope that there may be an antidote. Ceridwen would likely know if there were any means to reach the island as well. There was an ancient tribe who came to Arlais from the Īeg Searian centuries ago. Perhaps the Arlaïn library contained information for safe passage through the icy waters. Even were it all for naught, Arlais must be made aware of
Gawain swallowed the lump in his throat and collected his thoughts. “Then you would help the efforts of Arlais? I travel to Eurig to enlist the help of the Duamor king for—”
Neirin shook his head. “I am afraid I cannot.”
“But, my lord, you just said—”
“Were it at all possible, I would see you wipe out every last Hume in this land.”
“Then why will you not help me?”
“Look around you, boy!” Neirin’s anger flared. “Glyndŵr is a dead city! We have but twenty-seven inhabitants within her walls!”
“Twenty-seven?”
“Long have we tasted the Goddess’ smite upon our people. Through our blindness, we brought upon Her wrath. We scorned Her teachings out of anger, and we have been punished for our hubris. We bear no children in this land. We are an effete people, merely shadows passing through this world, waiting for our time to come and the Goddess to grant us sweet release.”
“Then would you not seek Her favor and aid me in my quest?”
Neirin sat silently for a moment. “I cannot ask any of the Féinmhuinín to bear your burden when I, myself, am unwilling to participate in war. I will pledge the Reibirian forces to you, however. We will keep only what we need for defensive measures and you may recruit the rest for your effort.”
“I thank you, my lord.”
“I will have Taí make the arrangements.”
“My lord, there is but one more boon I must ask of you.”
“What is it?”
“A friend of mine, he was injured at the clansmeet.”
“Ah, yes, the attack by the mercenaries.”
“They used Féinmhuinín poison on their arrows, in an effort to have blame fall on your people for the attack. I know of no antidote. I hope you have the answer I seek.”
“If there is an antidote, its formula would have been housed in this library and long ago lost to us. We have not used such poisons in centuries. It is unknown to me how the mercenaries were even capable of using such arrows. Believe me, though, I am certain to learn of how such treachery was accomplished.”
“Then I can do nothing,” Gawain said under his breath.
“While I do not know of an antidote, I can only think of one place that you may seek answers. Travel across the Bæðweg Glæs’ waters to the Īeg Searian. The ancients who dwell there may hold the key to your friend’s survival. Though, nobody has seen them in centuries. Only there can I think to send you, but do not dare to hope.”
Gawain slumped back in the chair, feeling defeated. He had heard stories of the ancient folk who lived across the seas on their island. In truth, it was not an island. A thin land bridge north of Gweliwch on the border of Cythroghl linked Dweömer and Īeg Searian. The Gethin made their homes in the mountains though, and the bridge was comprised of nothing but hazardous marshlands and rock spires which jutted from the sea’s edge. It was nearly impossible to reach the Īeg Searian by land.
The journey over the Bæðweg Glæs was a perilous one as well. In Hume tongue, it was The Sea of Glass, named for the icy rock formations which plagued ships attempting to cross. There had been few ships to make it to the island, and fewer still to return to speak of it. It was a land rumored to hold riches in timber and minerals, but it had been generations since either Annwyd or any of the Cærwynian provinces had dared to send an expedition.
Would he truly find Connor’s salvation in the savage land upon which few had set foot? Were it merely fantasy, he must still tell Connor of his findings. If only to grant him hope that there may be an antidote. Ceridwen would likely know if there were any means to reach the island as well. There was an ancient tribe who came to Arlais from the Īeg Searian centuries ago. Perhaps the Arlaïn library contained information for safe passage through the icy waters. Even were it all for naught, Arlais must be made aware of
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