When Rosamund's young daughter entered the room a few minutes later she
found her mother entranced, staring intently into the bubbling liquid at
visions that only she could see. Rosamund's brow was creased in worry,
marring her normally serene face. Kitiara sighed. Her mother was often
like this - delving strange magics that Kitiara had neither the ability nor
the inclination to understand. She decided that the rabbit traps probably
needed checking anyway and walked resolutely out the front door.
She was with child. Her husband, a humble woodcutter had died recently in
a tragic accident. And now she would bear his child. Although he had loved
Kitiara as his own, she was not. She was the child of her first husband.
Rosamund laughed half-hysterically at the irony of the timing. Gilon had
wanted children so badly - only to die shortly before the birth of his first
child.
As Rosamund sat, overwhelmed by the bittersweet mingling of sorrow and joy
mingling within her she failed to notice a dark presence filtering into the
room. Her eyes sprang wide open with horror as she first sensed the
presence of the dark entity.
"A good day to you, Rosamund Majere" intoned a deep voice, cold and
mocking. She felt the more through her ears, but through her heart and mind
than through her ears. It felt as though her very soul was being smothered.
Looking around, she saw no sign of anyone, save that the room had become
darker.
"Who.. _What_ are you?" she asked, her voice quivering.
It laughed. It was an unpleasant sound that chilled Rosamund's bones.
"An... interested party." it replied. I too have observed the omens. You
are with child. A daughter. She will be powerful in the magic, perhaps the
greatest... of this time." it paused. "She will be mine. You will allow no
harm to befall her."
Rosamund felt a wave of magic sweep across her and knew that she had been
geased. The power of the spell was overwhelming. Though she tried to
resist, her efforts were futile.
"When you have borne the child, I shall return and claim what is mine".
The dark presence laughed - an evil cackling laugh as it faded from the
room, until only a faint sense of evil remained...
Kitiara strode in triumphantly with a grin from ear to ear. She held a
dead rabbit in her left hand. The knuckles on her right hand were skinned.
"I finally caught him! It was Derek!" she proclaimed. "The rabbit
traps." she clarified, noting her mother's bewildered and relieved stare.
"I _knew_ someone had been stealing the rabbits from our traps and today I
caught him! He's not likely to try it again," she declared, brandishing her
small, skinned knuckles."
Rosamund sighed, partly in exasperation but mostly in relief. Derek was
the son of the town smith and had a reputation as a young thug but was
insignificant compared to the dark entity. She managed a grim half-smile.
Being beaten up by a girl two years his junior would certainly not do
Derek's reputation any good.
Kitiara had always been a bit of a tomboy. Rosamund usually alternated
between worry at Kit's seemingly endless capacity to get into trouble, and
pride at her extreme independance and ability to look after herself.
"Listen to me Kitiara," she began, "we have to leave here for a little
Gathering her daughter in her arms, Rosamund gave her a crushing hug.
"Listen to me Kitiara," she began, "we have to leave here for a little
while."
"But why? Where are we going?" Although Kitiara's voice brimmed with
concern at leaving her home, even temporarily, her eyes sparkled at the
possiblity of new adventure.
As they gathered their few items of import and locked the house for
protection in their absence, Rosamund told Kitiara of the afternoon's
happenings.
"We are going to visit an old friend of mine in the Tower of Wayreth.
Hopefully, he'll know what to do. I've already sent him a message that
we're coming."
Kitiara began to ask how her mother had sent a message so quickly but
closed her mouth, realizing the means were undoubtedly magical. She
remained silent as she and her mother walked through the woods, leading to
the forest of Wayreth.
"Don't worry", Rosamund had assured her daughter, "They know we're coming.
The path is only dangerous for the uninvited". Kitiara remained tense - she
considered herself brave, but only the foolish did not fear the dead.
Suddenly, as if by magic (which perhaps it was) the Tower of Wayreth
seemed to appear before them. Kitiara had never seen such a huge,
impressive building - it's spires seemed to blot out the stars.
A dark figure stepped in front of them, seemingly from nowhere, causing
Kitiara to jump, startled. "Who goes there?" spoke the figure, revealed as
an ordinary man wearing black robes.
"I am Rosamund Majere and this," she gestured, "is my daughter Kitiara".
"We are here to see Par Salian."
The man's eyes widened. "Certainly, my lady. I was informed you would be
coming. Follow me." He nodded to a second black-robed man who Kitiara only
now noticed, standing behind a nearby tree.
He led them through the huge gates (which opened at a gesture) and into the
tower.
Kitiara found herself waiting with bated breath as her mother rapped on
the door. When the door swung open with a creak, she found her initial
reaction one of disappointment. The man who answered the door looked no
different to many of the men around her small village. He was perhaps fifty
years of age, with white hair and white robes. He looked decidedly ordinary.
He stepped forward and swept Rosamund up into a great hug, a hug that she
returned.
"It has been far too long." he remarked warmly, "and is _this_ little
Kitiara? Why I remember when she was only this high." he said, indicating
some vague height. Rosamund smiled.
"Yes, well you _have_ been busy." Rosamund commented, "I hear rumours they
are considering you as the next head of the White Robes."
Par Salian waved his hand dismissively "Yes, I hear those rumours too. In
this place a dozen rumours and a small rock are worth the rock". He smiled.
The smile turned grim.
"But you did not visit me just to reminisce" he added, "Your message
mentioned an emergency of some kind?"
"Yes." Rosamund's voice became troubled once more. "I dared not go into
detail in our communication for fear of the message being detected." She
went on to explain the omens she had deciphered and to describe the visit of
the dark entity.
Par Salian considered her story thoughtfully. If his suspicions about the
identity of the dark entity were correct, the situation was dire indeed.
He shared none of his suspicions with Rosamund. To learn the true identity
of the presence would terrify her to no good end. After several minutes
contemplation, Par Salian smiled.
"I have an idea.", he said.
"Hurry up! Come on! She's gave birth last _night_!" she exclaimed
impatiently, "What took you so long?".
He opened his mouth to explain but Kit had already turned and marched into
the next room. He followed meekly. On a bed in the corner of the room
lay Rosamund, sleeping peacefully. The midwife sat on a stool by the table.
He stopped. His mouth fell open.
The midwife sat, cradling _two_ babies - one large and healthy looking,
the other small and frail.
"Twins!" he exclaimed, amazed. Kitiara nodded excitedly.
"This is my little brother, Caramon" she said, indicating the larger
child, "and this is my little sister Raistlana."
Caramon gurgled happily. Raistlana wheezed. The midwife frowned.
"I've never seen so delicate a child. She's so frail. She was lucky to
survive her first night." As if in response to her comment, Raistlana
coughed softly.
"Thank you for your help, my dear lady." said Par Salian. "We won't be
needing your help any more today."
The woman began to protest, but, seeing the look in Par Salian's eye
thought better of it. She placed the children in the cot Kitiara had built
for them and left meekly.
"Thank you!" Kitiara called after her. She put her hands on her hips
testily. "Now that was _rude_". Par Salian smiled. Kitiara reminded him
so much of what her mother had been like in their youth.
"Please wake your mother." he asked. "Time _is_ limited" he pointed out
politely when Kitiara opened her mouth to protest.
Without a word, Kitiara gently shook her mother awake. Rosamund's eyes
flickered open. She rose quickly as soon as her gaze fell upon Par Salian.
"It's time, isn't it." It was a statement, not a question.
Par Salian nodded. "I have worked hard these past months, preparing the
spell we require. I shall require your aid." Quickly he explained to her
the part she had to play in the ritual. Kitiara picked Caramon up from the
cot and rocked him gently in her arms.
Par Salian pulled strange-coloured dust from a pouch on his belt and
sprinkled it gently over Raistlana, uttering words of magic. The child
sneezed as the dust settled on its nose. Par Salian and Rosamund joined
hands over the crib and began chanting...
"How long will she be like that?" asked Kitiara.
"The being may watch your family for decades to come. I fear it
would be
unwise to remove the spell until we know of his destruction - an event my
order is looking into even as we speak."
His voice took on a tender tone. "Rosamund, you realize that a being as
powerful as the one you describe could search your minds for the truth with
ease."
Rosamund nodded, mute. She feared what she knew Par Salian would say next.
"For the child to truly be safe, neither you nor your daughter must know
the truth. I wish to erase from your mind all that has transpired. I can
cast a spell that will cause you both to believe that this child was born
male."
Rosamund nodded again, mutely.
"No!" cried Kitiara, "I _want_ to remember my sister."
"I know." Par Salian replied, a sadness tinging his voice, "but you want
your sister to be safe, don't you?"
Kitiara's lower lip trembled for a moment then grew firm. A determined
light appeared in her eyes. "Yes", she stated. "I understand".
With a tired smile, and a tear welling in his eye Par Salian ruffled the
child's hair affectionately.
"Are you prepared?" he asked them both. They both nodded. Placing his
hands lightly on both their foreheads he began to chant the incantation to
trigger the spell...
As she spoke, a darkness seemed to fill the room. Par Salian felt a
shiver ride up his spine.
"WHERE IS THE CHILD?" the dark voice spoke.
"The children are here." Par Salian replied, his voice trembling,
indicating the twins in the crib. Both Rosamund and Kitiara seemed struck
mute with terror.
"What trick is this?" snarled the entity. "These children are both boys
- yet I sense that they are the children of this woman."
Par Salian felt the entity's power trying to pierce his mind. Were it not
for the potent spells of protection he had prepared over the past weeks, his
mind would have been overwhelmed. As it was, his defences barely held.
"I have no need to read your mind, little man", the entity sneered, "The
woman and the child have told me enough. These two were the only children
she bore. The one who holds the power, her daughter, is yet to come. I
_will_ be watching." The presence withdrew from the room. Finally only the
faint stench of evil remained. Par Salian cleansed this with a wave of his
hand and a muttered spell.
Par Salian frowned. "I fear a dark shadow still falls over this child.
"However, that creature will leave you in peace until such time as you bear
a daughter" he stated "if such a time arrives, contact me". He smiled to
himself, doubting such a time would ever come.
"I wish I could stay, but I have business to attend to." He tipped his
hat to them as he left. "I must have a brief word with your midwife."
RETURN TO TALES PAGE