Stone buildings on either side towered over Rebbi and her people as they walked down the central lane of Windgrad. Two to three stories they went up, elegant railings and pillars carved to accentuate their structural beauty. Banners and drapes hung from windows and balconies, dyed red and green for some, yellow and purple for others. All structures packed close, leaving little room for each to breathe their own individuality. All this stood in stark contrast to the otherworldly appearance of the towering wall that protected the city.
"The fathers and mothers of each house will gather with me and make our way to the palace. Children and servants will attend to themselves while we are gone." Her father's booming voice sounded out, overpowering even the bustling street noise. The caravan members were busy leading horses and donkeys to stables, while others took the bags in search of quarters to sleep in for their stay. Solomon handed the bag on his shoulders off to a young servant and his shawled head turned this way and that, looking about into the crowd of his people. Once his eyes landed upon Rebbi a large white grin grew on his brown face. Then he saw her expression, and his brow furrowed.
"Come here, my child. Tell me what is the matter with you? Are you not excited to see the ancient city of Windgrad?" he gestured all about himself at the lively street. Looking back at her, and seeing her face had not changed, his arms and smile dropped in synchronicity. She made her way over to him, a wide eyed panic flaring forth.
"They- they took Saul, papa. They just took him." Solomon nodded sadly.
"Yes, they took him." Rebbi moved back half a step, hearing how casual her father admitted this. She looked about at her other family, many of whom had already started wandering off. They all showed little interest in their conversation. She looked back at her father.
"We have to do something." Solomon crossed his arms and pursed his lips.
"Interesting idea. Tell me, child, what would you have me do?" She clenched her fists, frustration growing at the realization that she was being made fun of. Her response came back cold.
"I would have you not let these people take our kin in the first place." Solomon only nodded. "I would have you act like my father should." Though the words had been intended to bite him deeply, Solomon only raised his bushy eyebrows and threw back his head in laughter.
"And how is it that I am supposed to be acting, as your father? Am I to have taken up arms against these people? To have taken the forty fighting men that we have, and destroy their thousands? Perhaps I am meant to have torn down the ancient walls themselves with nothing but my bare hands." Rebbi stomped her foot, out of frustration as much as out of urgency. However, she only managed to make herself look like a petulant child.
"You should have said something. You should have explained it to them." Solomon placed his hands up, clearly worrying that the girl would say too much before she realized what she was saying.
"That is enough." His tone went serious. But Rebbi would not hear of it. She pointed her finger behind her, where she assumed Thomas and Noah were.
"You let them cause this, and you did nothing."
"Rebbi."
"What?"
Solomon let out a long tired sigh. His face softened and his eyes looked sadly down at her. It was a look she had only seen once before, during their leaving of the grave of the slaughtered tribe. He gestured for her to come with him as he turned and walked down the stone street. The elders of the tribe marched double column behind him. Rebbi, feeling the sting of her own words, though still not turning her back on them, walked along beside her father.
The street stood wide. Its massive presence stood like some type of trench cutting through the entire city, dividing it in two. It led all the way from the main gate, to the palace steps themselves, crossing through the city center where hundreds of vendors and attractions took up space. She moved closer to her father as they walked. Many times she had been to new cities on their journey. However, now was the first time she had felt such hostility when entering a place.
All around, men and women of a tall and slender build moved along their way. They wore tunics, colored in the style of the banners flying high above, that reached down to below their feet and dragged along the ground. Many of them had short capes that bunched around their necks, making their heads look stiffly forward. Many of them wore some form of beaded jeweler around their wrists. Rebbi was surprised to notice that only the men wore earrings made from copper, their shapes in the form of stars and triangles. The women on the other hand, wrapped their heads in large bundles, each with their own intricate patterning of binding method. All in all, Rebbi found the place and people a strange mixture of rustic and regal.
"Rebbelin" Her father using her real name made her feel the need to look down at her feet. Only when she had gotten in trouble as a child had he ever called her that, and it brought back memories of shame. "Why do you think I would help those two men in the way that I did?" Rebbi walked along, this time making an effort to speak the right words.
"You felt they needed help. It is our duty as the pilgrims to help those in need. The third law." She sounded like a student repeating a lesson, even in her own ears. Solomon chuckled.
"Indeed, a good reason." He sounded weary. "Rebbi, tell me, when we passed through the Warren country, did the people there seem glad to see us?" She thought for a moment before shaking her head. The memories of the rocky planes and long houses of the Warren people reminded her of islands among a turbulent sea, and the people born from such a place matched its power. They all felt strong and tall to her. Though few they were, each of their noble houses met them with a show of round shields and spears, making sure that their nobles met with them before they even had a chance to near the gate, giving her people a royal welcome. However, even in all of this, she felt a strange tension between the people of their land.
"No." She responded. "I mean, they did not seem put off by our arrival. However, they did seem distracted. As if we had called on a parent in the middle of dealing with their children." Solomon smiled softly.
"That is a good way to phrase it. And tell me, what about the people of NorthGuard. Would you say they were the same?"
"Well, yes. But they were also dealing with all of those people flooding their borders. I only felt it understandable at the time." Her words trailed off. They passed through the city center. The sounds of showmen performing odd magic tricks and vendors screaming out their product's names attempted to invade her mind, but still all she noticed was the old man walking beside her. Though his smile was there, and though he stood noble and tall, the heaviness of recent events clearly hung over him.
"Rebbi," Solomon spoke again. "I need you to understand, we are only passing through this country. It is our duty to see the Behemoth make its hatching from the mountain's great womb. And it is also our duty to walk the ancient road until we have left Tovoran once more. If we are lucky, we might see the ancient one once more before it goes into the black sea. However, that is only ever a gift."
"I understand."
"You do not." He did not shout, but the sharpness of the words shocked her. Solomon took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment. "This will be the third time I have taken the pilgrimage. It is likely to be the last. I tell you, not once has the world within the mountains of the southwest coast ever once been a place of safety and stability. Always do the people of this place quarrel with one another. Always, there are those who must pay the price." He spoke the words as one who suffers from a difficult memory. "Each of our people know the risk of our faith's journey. But we must not do anything that would put us in unneeded jeopardy. Do you understand?"
"I- I understand."
"Good."
They passed the square and on to the street once more. A mile ahead, the way ended when met with a grand staircase leading up a hill. Each step as wide as the lane itself, with great stone railings on either side. Soldiers were found every ten steps, spears in hand, standing erect for any trouble. Rebbi's eyes followed the stairs up to the top of the hill. On it was what she could only describe as a holy site.
The palace of Windgrad looked less like a place for kings and more of a structure for priests and holy men. Its tall spiles and slender windows reached high. The blue doors on its front stood at nearly half the height of the building itself and had four men manning them, their only job to open and shut the entrance. Its red tiled roof slanted steeply to a thin point, and along its corners were carved statues of eagles mid flight. Five stories it went up, on the second and fifth, balconies wrapped around its body. Each one jutting out at the four corners to make a bridge to connect to towers standing taller than the palace itself. In its back, the palace widened to make the structure form a T shape. Rebbi felt a regal yet oppressive shadow cast from the place. A shudder ran down her spine.
"Then why did you make a deal with them?" She did not look away from the structure. "Did you really only help them out of the duty of our people?" Solomon did not respond. He only led his people down the remainder of the way, and at the first step, he halted and knelt beside his daughter. The two looked at each other while the world around them moved. Rebbi saw in her fathers brown eyes, a sadness brewing near to tears. However, beyond that, something new appeared she had never once seen in him. Regret.
"My dear little Rebbi, many of our tribe have passed due to the troubles of the people within the mountain's walls. But never once have one of our clans have been wiped from this realm for such petty goals and because of such little kings." He placed his large hands on her shoulders, and they felt to her a great and powerful weight. "I do not ask you to be happy with how I am going about this, but I ask you to follow me. Follow your father, learn from me, and we will avenge our people's lives." Rebbi felt her heart beat hasten. She had never once heard her father talk of such things, never known him to offer anyone, let alone his own child, the path of blood. For a moment, she felt repulsed by the request.
"What about Saul?" Her father smiled.
"You really think your father would not have planned a way to get him back?" He stood up and turned back to the staircase.
Rebbi's mind swam. With each step ascended, a new thought assaulted her. What about the vows of their people? Step. What if they found Thomas and Noah and learned of her father helping them? Step. What were they gaining from helping them in their course for revenge? Step. What about her hopes in finding Giles? Step. And, before she noticed, they stood before the great doors. They opened with a shutter and clatter of metal.
A man in long robes and a sword on his hips came forth from the entrance, looking upon the gathering with a pleasant smile and sharp eyes. Her father bowed low, she and her people following his lead. Rising again, Solomon opened his arms wide and smiled down at the porter.
"I am Solomon of the Eltera tribe from the west. We are making our annual pilgrimage through Tovoran and wish to hail your king, and recognize his lordship over the lands of Windgrad."
"Well met." The porter bowed low. "Your coming was told to us, and my lord has eagerly awaited your arrival. Please follow me."
The great hall within the palace was as wide as the street they had walked down to get there. The red carpet beneath their feet was illuminated by the sunlight shining through the tall windows on either side of the building. Looking up, Rebbi noticed how the central area was totally open, a great space reaching to the roof high above. Where the railings for the second and third floor were on the outside, there they were matched on the inside.
She walked alongside her father, her eyes spying something new with each step. Pillars designed as silver and gold spirals held the palace up. Tables of fine foods and drinks lined each side of the carpet, hosting people from many cultures. Some were outlanders, some NorthGuard, and even a few of the Warren. Others were there too, though she did not recognize their look. Above, five great chandeliers burned with thousands of candles. Here and there, servants moved about their tasks.
At the end of the hall, another staircase went up and at the top, a throne stood. A man with a crown made of antler sat upon it. Proud he looked. His long black hair and graying pointed beard matched finely with his silver cape and blue tunic. He smiled, and watched them approach with half closed eyes.
They knelt and Solomon repeated the speech he had made to the porter. It had been repeated at every noble house and at every gate since they had started their journey. Once he had finished, there hung a silence. Rebbi fought her desire to look up.
There came the sound of movement from the throne, and the whole of the hall went silent. She felt her mouth go dry. Boots descending the red staircase made its way towards them. She tried to calm her breathing. The boots stopped right before them, and Rebbi could see them at the top of her eyes.
"Stand up." The voice was harsh. They rose and she saw that the king was standing directly in front of her father. He looked at him through a furrowed brow. "Twenty years, and this is how you greet me. Empty handed." There was an uncomfortable shuffling from those at the tables, and Rebbi struggled to swallow. Her father looked at the king confused. The man with the antler crown put a finger on her father's chest. "You promised me you would bring me one of your outlander ponies when you returned." They looked at each other for a moment, then both broke into laughter. The king embraced the older man, leaping into his arms.
"Well, I am glad you remember something about me, young Theo. Even if only my promise of gifts."
"You old fool. I never thought I would see you again." There was a hint of tears in the man's voice. Rebbi took a step back, and looked over at the elders of her tribe. Many of them smiled fondly at the sight. She looked back at the king, amazed. From the stories, from what she had learned from the journey leading here, nothing gave her the impression that this would be the young King Theo, the last of the house that worshiped Atla.
Then she saw it. Out of the corner of her eye, the tapestry hanging over the throne stole her attention. It stretched from wall to wall, and up to the third floor. Its weaving looked faded and ancient, but still holding together strong.
She had seen hundreds of tapestries in the palaces of the world. It had been the main way for each house to display their heritage to those who would visit their halls. They often would show great men or women, carrying out great deeds that set their people apart from others. This however, did no such thing.
The image woven into the fabric showed the land of Tovoran. Its mountains to the west and north, and the seas to the south and east. Within there were the forests, rivers, and lakes. However, no kingdom had been designed into its patterns. Instead, there were only three figures. To the left, was a creature after the shape of a serpent. It looked to be covered in black hair and had a tanned snout. On the right was some type of man shaped dog with a skull like face and gleaming eyes. It was in mid pounce, jaws open. Both figures were overshadowed by the one in the center.
It looked down at Rebbi, or so she thought, with dazzling green eyes. Its dark gray body was slender and naked. With one hand it pointed to the sky, and with the other it pointed to the girl. Atop its long head was a vast weaving of antlers. Above it were letters from some ancient language that Rebbi did not know. But in her heart, and from her studies, she knew their meaning. Atla, the eldest god of Tovoran.