Author’s Note:

This story is meant as a prequel to “Sirach”, a longer novel of mine which can be found on Fictionpress.
It is set on Earth in the early 1600’s, nearly 500 years before Sirach’s birth.

Copyright © Jennifer Bonin AKA Reythia 2006.

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Chapter One: From the Depths of Despair

“But why should we trust you?”

Raylf Kirost looked critically over the stranger. He was a small man and fairly young, with the smoothness of face and hands that signified a life of wealth and softness. His brown hair was clean and fine, his hands were clad in expensive rings, and his clothing, though as black as anyone else’s there, was tailored instead of homemade. The blindfold by which he had been led in hung loosely around his slightly pudgy neck. “Why should we risk it all, to trust you?” Kirost repeated, his voice as cold as his thoughts.

“Because you need a place,” the man replied, “and I can give it to you.”

“We have a place,” Kirost declared flatly.

“This?” the wealthy man repeated with a snort. “This forest is a pit, not a home. You plan on raising your children here?” He snorted again. “They’ll be dead of disease in a year. Dead faster still, if Faril catches up with you again.”

Kirost kept his face impassive, but his eyes involuntarily roamed the forest scene behind the stranger. The man was right. The wretched piece of land where they had hidden would grow deadly, come winter. The snow in the region was known to pile up to a grown man’s height, even in good years. It was only September, but already the nights were growing chill. And they had but poor shelter.

He wanted to scream. Forty years of stability, destroyed. Of peace, and safety for their children. Everyone had thought it would last forever.

But then the boy had been found, hanging gruesomely from a wide oak bow: Lord Faril’s youngest son. And Faril had hardly seen the mystical symbols written on the tree before he sent his armies after those he thought responsible. Never mind that none of them had ever seen or used such writing. Never mind that they had been innocent. Lord Ronwald’s castle had been flamed – town and all – and no one had survived. Kirost’s people had only escaped because Ronwald himself had stayed to use the water wheel to warn them. Because Ronwald had died to send his friend, Lord Raylf Kirost, a desperate message of warning.

Raylf’s eyes clouded with tears, but he pushed them roughly aside, along with the thoughts that had caused them. He would not fail Ronwald. Whatever it took, he would find a haven for their people. Even if it cost him his life.

Raylf Kirost forced himself to focus on the man in front of him, reviewing what little he knew. Christian Merlor was well-known in these parts, and respected as a hard-working and honest man. Even back at home in Bavaria, the Merlor family was recognized and admired as excellent procurers of rare wines and spices. They were a merchant family, whose claim to the trade dated back hundreds of years. Lord Heimlich Kirost, Raylf’s father, had once entertained the head of the family, back in his Bavarian castle of Geisthof. Had Christian come to Raylf while he had still owned his family’s castle and lands, he would have been welcomed. But now... Now, things were different. Raylf Kirost was no longer a lord, and he could no longer afford to be so trusting. Lord Faril had taught him that.

“Mina,” he summoned, as gently as he could. The poor girl was frightened enough already, he could tell. None of them trusted strangers anymore. As Mina timidly stepped out of the forests’ shadows and into the small clearing, Kirost returned to Christian. “If you wish to be involved with us, then you won’t mind us testing you.”

“What... what are you talking about?” Christian asked, stepping back and nervously twisting a ring around his finger as he spoke. “What do you mean, ‘testing’?”

“Mina will search your mind,” Raylf clarified, coldly. He did not trust this man, even though he was desperate enough to consider his offer. And he would not trust him; not until he understood what had made Merlor seek him out. “She’ll look to see if you’re being honest, or if you plan to betray us.” He paused, calculatively. “Of course, if you wish to retract your offer and leave without being Scanned, I’d certainly understand. On the grounds that none of this is discussed elsewhere, naturally.”

Christian Merlor’s adam’s apple bobbed repeatedly, and he made no response for a long moment. Then, in a parched voice, he answered, “I’ll stay. You can test me.”

Kirost blinked, just once, in surprise. He had honestly expected the wealthy merchant to fold. Briefly, he considered pulling Mina back and letting their visitor go without a Mind-Scan – since, apparently, he had nothing to fear – but he forced himself to go through with it anyhow. He could no longer afford to take on people without testing their loyalty, and Mina was their best Mind-Scanner. She would see that it caused him no harm, but still get all the information they needed.

The nineteen-year-old woman walked shyly towards the foreign man and folded his two hands inside her own small ones. “Greetings, my lord,” she said softly. “Don’t be afraid. I won’t change your thoughts at all. Just look at them.”

Christian nodded nervously, then closed his eyes at Mina’s bidding. She kept hers open, and focused on his face. Kirost could sense the moment that she broke into Christian’s mind. It was as if someone had poked a hole in a dam, and all the water that was built up behind the wall was suddenly able to squirt out through that tiny opening. Except, here, Mina’s mind was the dam, and she had pierced it herself, in a very specific place, so that the water of her thoughts flowed directly into Christian’s head. As she entered his thoughts, the merchant gasped. Kirost knew from experience that what he was feeling was more shock than pain, but he allowed himself a twinge of sympathy nonetheless. The mind was a sacred place, and Mina’s invasion was, in some ways, profane. Profane but necessary, Raylf reminded himself, forcefully.

~He’s telling the truth!~ Mina’s mind exclaimed, joy prevalent in her tone. ~He wants to help us!~

Kirost nodded and relaxed by the tiniest margin. ~Good,~ he replied, also telepathically. ~You’ve done well, Mina. Thank you.~

~You’re welcome, milord,~ she replied. ~But there’s something else you should know... He’s got Armor, too. Real Mind-Armor, not just the natural kind that normal people’ve got. Maybe it’s just an oddity, sir, but it might be he’s got our kind of Talent, too.~

Kirost stared at her for a second, then re-appraised the man standing before him. Perhaps there was more to Christian Merlor than met the eye. ~Interesting,~ he commented to Mina. ~You’ve done very well indeed. But don’t tell anyone about that part of it, just yet.~

~Yes, Lord Kirost.~ The young woman smiled at Christian as she closed her mind and let go of his hands. “Thank you, Lord Merlor,” she said, softly but confidently. “We trust you.” Then, with another shy smile at Raylf, she turned and melted back into the trees.

For himself, Raylf Kirost just looked at the visitor. “Come,” he said, simply, hardly daring to hope, after all these months. “Let me show you where we live. You can speak to the Council, and we will decide together what to do about your proposal.”