Chapter 2

Eirathem's bottom ached fiercely.  He sat upon the ground squirming as he continually adjusted his position.  He scowled at the speaker telling today's tales, resentment burning in his chest.

The speaker, Rhacmidon, the leader of the snake-masters of the valley, seemed oblivious of Eirathem's ire.  Though his blond hair was braided and fell to just above his waist, the man still reminded Eirathem of a proud lion.  He wore leather ankle bracelets and a simple leather loin-cloth that fell to mid-thigh.  He was tall and lean compared to the shorter stockier Munde audience that had gathered to hear the storytelling. His bonded, a large diamond-headed snake with contrasting red stripes was draped around his shoulders. The man had a long staff made out of logwood, a common tree from the southern forest of Wudui'n Rhaciu, the Forest of snakes. 

"Today," began Rhacmidon, "I tell you the tale of Mara, one of the three maidens of the Fremde people that saved our world."

A hush fell over the Munde. 

“In the beginning, our world was populated by a tall willowy people called the Fremde. It is said that the Creator, Sibris, gave them the ears of the fox and the heart of the wolf.  And he bestowed upon them the gift of Magic when the world was young."

"Sibris gave them three tenets: love Him, love others, and care for the great world they had been given.  He left the Laerahndseli to watch over our world and guide the Fremde.

"But in time, the Fremde forgot Sibris and his tenets.  They forgot to care for each other and their world.  And thus the world was dying.

"Only in Dumaira, on the other side of the Cwildbeorg mountain range, did they follow Sibris' tenets.  As I told you last night, Wysda was the first of the three maidens. She was the one who cared for Thiracon'n, the magical portal that brought the beings, plants, and animals to replenish the world of Middengard.

"Wysda, along with her sisters, asked the Laerahndseli to save our world.  But the Laerahndseli had a rule, and that rule was that all great magic had its price.  Each of the maidens was required to make a sacrifice.  Mara's sacrifice was to lose her beauty.  She became short, brown, and wrinkled."

"When Mara saw the brown, wrinkled skin of her arm, she ran to a cave to weep.  The Laerahndsel of Earth followed her. 

"After Mara quit arguing with the Laerahndsel, dried her tears, and agreed to allow the Laerahndsel to help her, she accomplished many things.  She discovered the plecora, a great worm who helped her dig the caves that exist even today.  The caves were used to contain those who had forgotten the tenets of Sibris.  Some of those contained great evil within them.  They were locked away so they could harm no other."

"And later," added Rhacmidon, "she found Wysdadraca resting deep within the earth.  And so the dragons came to us and began to bond with boys.  They were but the first of the creatures found that could bond with Myende children."

"Never forget," stressed the leader of the snake masters.  "It was the Munde who came first, not the Myende.  The Myende race are the descendants of Munde who live well.  That is why some of you even now have magical children, even though you have no magic of your own.

“But the time came when Mara grew tired. She fell asleep, and there was no one to ensure the children she had adopted were following her wisdom. They accidentally unsealed the great evil that Mara and the Guardian of earth had worked so hard to seal away.”

“At the time,” continued Rhacmidon, “thirteen unbonded dragons were feeding off the fire the evil produced. The great evil escaped into their bellies. Those dragons bonded with the thirteen Myende boys, who grew to the men who sealed Thiracon’n, the well that had been used to save the world. The dragons and all but one of the men died, and the great evil within them was released back into the world.

“One man survived and made his way back across the mountain to become the first Emperor of Myencihn. And my ancestors were trapped here, in this Valley that is now our home.”

Eirathem jumped up and stalked away from the circle before the man could say anymore.  He pulled at the leather bands on his wrists that prevented him from using the magic that resided in him. He hated that particular tale about his ancestors.  For Eirathem was the direct descendant of the first Emperor of Myencihn.  He was sure everyone knew.

It wasn't fair.  Rhacmidon could have his snake, but Eirathem couldn't commune with his dragon.  Eirathem loved his dragon.  She had told him that her children were being trapped in Myencihn, so they couldn't bond with the boys meant for them.  So Eirathem had tried to rescue them.  When he failed, his dragon had brought him here, to this Valley in the south of the continent of Annea. She had abandoned him, and Eirathem missed her dearly. He reached for her in his mind. She answered immediately, of course.

“Go,” she said, “Do the work of your hands as the Munde must, and show Rhacmidon you will obey. He shall teach you what you need to know to free my children.”

Eirathem turned, automatically obeying. It was then that he spotted her in the forest. Four-foot tall, the color of the earth, with pointed ears like the fox, and wrinkled brown skin like leather. She was dressed in a brown tunic that fell to her knees and had a simple staff almost as tall as she was. She was staring straight at him.

Mara was real.

Later that evening, Eirathem surveyed his lands from a window of the stronghold. The fields were bare, having been picked clean to feed the elite in the Emperor’s City. The Munde, slaves to the former Emperor, hid in the forest, starving.

When taking over the compound he had ousted the gaggle of Munde women who had served in the former Emperor’s bed. Only one remained: a child that looked to be barely seven. She eyed him from a corner, clutching the doll he had given her. The few sharp stings Eirathem had given the girl’s legs when she disobeyed had been enough to convince her to obey him.

There was a shrill rap at the door and Eirathem turned, bellowing “Enter.”

Two men walked in slowly. One was the newly appointed counselor, the other the only remaining overseer. Eirathem strode to the desk.

“Come,” he said tersely.

The men approached. Eirathem pushed a scroll towards the overseer, tapping at two figures with the butt of his wand.

“These are the number of Munde who died upon these lands in the last year. It is almost as many as those who lived. I would like to know how you would change this. I have yet to have an overseer give me an appropriate answer.”

“I think you will like not what I have to say,” admitted the man named Nelaer.

“Continue,” said Eirathem coldly.

“If you want them to live,” he said, “they must be fed adequately and their health cared for.”

“And how would you accomplish this?” asked Eirathem.

Nelaer’s tongue darted out, wetting his lips. He grew quiet and glanced at the counselor, a man by the name of Niven. The overseer finally said, “In the south, amongst the villages on this side of Denu’n Rhaciu, you will find what remains of the Thirteenth House. Should you really wish to aid the Munde of this land, there are those who would serve as healers and overseers. However, they will not allow the Munde to be starved, beaten, and abused.”

Eirathem nodded. He said, “I walked this land for many months unseen before challenging the former Emperor. I watched it all. It escaped not my notice that you alone, of all the overseers, rarely used that whip that is at your side.”

“I have never found that cutting open a man’s back makes him work harder or be more obedient, “ said Nelaer softly.

“And that is why I chose to save you for the last to question. Should you prove yourself worthy, you shall be Forsahndon, my head overseer. But know this,” Eirathem said while pointing the butt of his wand at the man, “I have two rules regarding my Munde: dead Munde are impractical, and hurt Munde are impractical. I understand from time to time discipline may be needed, but the Munde of this land need not suffer needlessly.”

Nelaer nodded, “Aye, Casari.”

Eirathem flicked his wand and a scroll came flying out of the bag he had brought from his dragon earlier. It landed on the table and he opened it.

“These are the plans for my lands. No more will the food produced here go to fill the bellies of the elite. The Emperor’s Great City will be dismantled. If they want a city they can build on the land of another. Soon, those dragon riders who escaped the former emperor will arrive from Puethion. They will be in charge of its dismantlement. They will also aid you,” he said motioning to Nelaer, “in getting the aid you need. We will move towards there gathering the Munde and dismantling the buildings as we go.”

“Know this,” repeated Eirathem as he trained his wand on the counselor, “this will happen. Any who defy or stand against me will be crushed. So when my riders arrive, I suggest you have one take you to this city, and I further suggest you inform them it is in their best interest to leave peaceably. For I will do what I must to reclaim my lands.”

Niven nodded gravely.

“But for now,” said the Casari, “Get out there and get those Munde out of the trees and get them healed and whole as best you may until help arrives. Dismissed.”

The two men left slowly. Afterwards, Eirathem motioned to the child, “Come here,” he said.

She rose and slowly approached him. He led her to the terrace. He pointed to a stool, and she sat quietly. He sat in the chair next to it. As he sat, the wooden wand grew into a great staff. He ground it into the earth, releasing a spell so all in the vicinity could hear him speak with the child. “What is Casariu’n first rule?” he asked the child softly.

“Dead Munde are im-”

“Impractical” he finished for her. “And Casariu’n second rule?”

"Hurt Munde are impractical,” she said, getting the word correct this time.

“And what does Maestir want of his Munde?” asked Eirathem.

“Do as we are told,” she answered.

“And what will happen to those who obey Maestir?” he asked.

“Full bellies,” she replied, showing what was most important to her.

“And what else?” he asked pulling gently at the new dress he had acquired for her to wear.

“Clothes that fit,” she replied with eyes that glowed.

“Anything else?” he asked.

“Toys,” she said clutching the doll.

"And you shall help the Munde learn Casariu’n Rules so you can keep that doll, shall you not?”

“Aye, Maestir,” she said softly, clutching her precious toy even more tightly.

Eirathem said nothing else, banging his staff upon the ground to end the spell. That night, in the forest, there were Munde men looking towards the compound, in anxiety for the child he had taken. And that was precisely why he had kept the girl. It would ensure their obedience until they learned to trust him.

After a time he rose, motioning for the child to follow him. She clutched her doll close, peeking at him over the doll’s head.

“You have behaved well today,” Eirathem said softly, “You may bring it along.”

The child jumped up and ran to him and grabbed his belt. The Casari led her to the next room, where he had her lie on a mat he had prepared for the night. Securing the room, he took to his own bed. Tomorrow would be a long day as well.