Take the Mountain – Chapter 29

*Scene 01* – 00:00 (Scene Title)

Mattox and I walked side by side once all of our traveling party were down into the tunnel and our supplies were loaded onto a wagon that had been stationed under the loading shaft beneath the foundation of The Keep.  He directed us through each passage and juncture as we made our way towards the ground opening hidden within the mountainside forests surrounding Azragoth above.  Since the mountainside sloped getting to the cave opening did not require climbing back up or finding a steadily rising grade towards the surface as would have been necessary if the caverns were beneath a plain or level ground.  In the course of underground travel, in a seemingly awkward fashion, I finally broached the subject that had held my burning curiosity since discovering that the Eagle was a former nemesis.

“How…I mean, what…changed you?”

Mattox kept walking and directing us ahead but eventually responded to my question.

“It wasn’t just one thing, but there was a catalyst event that finally broke me down.”

I waited, allowing him to pay out the mystery in installments.

“What they did to The Marker, their disgusting obsession with it, making a mockery of it, forcing abeyances and slaughtering before it, finally made it so that I could stomach the hatred no more.”

Of all the things he could have told me, this was the one thing I never had expected to hear.

“The Xarmnians, of which I am ashamed to say, I once was, are power-mad.  They are obsessed with dominating everyone and everything because their own collective philosophy demands suppression of a natural human need that they do not realize is innate.”

“A need for significance, individuality, and a chance to succeed beyond the level of their peers without feeling guilty for that desire or obligated by it to everyone who does not put forth the same sweat equity and discipline.  Suppress those needs long enough and they turn inward into rage and frustration.  These lead either to despair, conformity, and defeat, or to blood-lust, aggression, and violence.  It’s the difference between subjects and soldiers for the Xarmnians.  The governors know this, and they fuel these fires to white-hot intensity.  They take those who choose brutality for their armies, and the rest they dominate and keep in fearful servility.  We were trained to do this, as military leaders.  Schooled in it from an early age.  Yet I remember from an early age, a time when it wasn’t so.  A time when the Capitalians were our brothers and sisters, and we once made a pilgrimage to The Marker that first inspired us to settle here in these lands and gave us a hope that we could build something better and have a place of our own.  The Builder Stones were a gift of The Marker.  We owe the founding of our cities to the use of them, and the mysterious Marker Stone from which they came.  Though we were never allowed to speak of it, I still keep that memory and lived in a secret shame of my kinsmen and their behavior regarding it.  Burying it under massacred thousands who believed in its promises was the last straw, the last indignity that I could bear.  So I broke faith with them in my heart and was left to seek Hope in some other path besides Xarmnian philosophies.  I needed something more to give me purpose and bring meaning back.”

“I did many horrible things under the old rule.  Things that weighed down and haunted me with every step.  I needed what these Azragothians had found in the aftermath of their tragedy.  I needed a way to cleanse and find hope and forgiveness.  These remarkable people offered me that.  Me, a Xarmnian.  One of the military leaders that arguably led to the tragedy of what happened to them.  They showed me a path to the One and a way to be reconciled through Him to hope, despite everything I have done.  I have gained an appreciation for the Living Words of the Ancient Text and am finding wisdom through them that I never knew was essential to my becoming.”

“When the Xarmnian army showed up to take Azragoth, I was already within the city.  I brought Maeven there to live, but I had also come to the surrounding area to find someone else.  I am not sure, but I believe that person is also within your company, but he need not know that I am aware of him.  He was a little boy when I found him.  Rescued him in the woods.  He may not even remember me.  It is perhaps for the best that he doesn’t.  I have not seen him since he was a child.  Before he ran away and disappeared.”

“There are many things that I am ashamed of, that I did in the service of Xarmni.  One particular thing I witnessed, with that one, I could not let stand.  His father was a Surface Worlder.  The boy is too.  It does not often happen that Surface Worlders come here with families, but sometimes it happens on rare occasions.”

“From what I could gather, the boy’s father was in the military in the Surface World.  He was a long way from home, involved in a war.  They discovered the Mid-World by accident, on opposite sides of the Surface World.  The boy’s father was changed by the war, a different man, but a better man somehow.  He had become a Cleric.  The boy was struggling with that.  He knew his dad from before he went off to war.  A tough guy.  A hard man.  Someone whom the boy idolized and wanted to be like…like the man he was.  But he was uncertain about the man his dad had become.  When he witnessed his dad’s death in this world, he blamed the death on the man’s change.  Resented it.  When I dropped him off with a family in the highlands, he saw my leaving as a betrayal as well.  But I couldn’t deal with a child and do what I had to as a Xarmnian officer.  I had no choice.  Sentiment was frowned upon and viewed as a weakness, so I kept that secret to myself.  From the others.  When I found Maeven and the others within Azragoth, I saw in Maeven a need and a chance to make up for what I couldn’t do with the boy as a soldier.  Maeven was my second chance to do something good for someone.  So I trained her in military survival, fighting techniques, and help her build confidence in herself that she didn’t have before.  I have taught her much, but she excels beyond what I taught her, and by the same token I have learned much from her, in ways that are a side of warfare I did not know of for all of my combat training.  With the boy and his father…  Well, I saw what happened to the man, and why the other Xarmnian commander did not pursue them when they managed to escape into the woods.  He knew there were creatures within that would make quick work of them both.  Especially since the man was injured and leaving a trail of blood in the snow.  As soon as I could get away without being noticed or missed I went after them but was too late to help the man.  The boy was in the tree above, barely alive, starving, nearly frostbitten and in a shock that made him barely responsive when I took him down and carried him away.”

“The boy’s father had carried an honor sword that had been taken from him when he and his son were captured.  I believe it is to be the same one you are carrying.  I took it, from the Xarmnians holding him captive.  [Change this to Lord Nem] It was I and Lord Nem who took it out to the copse grove near Crowe and drove it into the exposed roots of the tree there, as is the custom when the mission of an honor sword is complete.”

“I assume you are familiar with the nature of honor swords.”

“To some degree.”

“Then you understand that not just anyone can release an Honor Sword once it has been driven into the roots of a dogwood tree.  It is bonded to the wood.  Others have tried to take it out before and failed.  Only the one who is meant to take up the mission of its previous bearer will be able to draw it forth.  This mission you are called to is a continuance of the boy’s father’s mission.  It is where Maeven also must join in the quest, for she is part of it.  My compassion and sense of duty to her is because of my prior experiences and softening with helping the boy.  I do not know what role she will play in it, but I and the leaders in Azragoth feel that her place is with your company on this quest.”

I was amazed at Mattox’s matter-of-fact demeanor and his openness and candor with me, so unlike what I had experienced of the man in his before life.  I had wondered at his seeming devotion to the Azragothians, but it was all now beginning to fall into place.  His service to them as General and protector was so different from how he had served under the Xarmnian edge of the sword.  He loved them.  His service and duty arose out of gratitude and kinship with them, and out of a joined fellowship in service to the ideals carved in The Blood Stone, aka The Marker.

A thought occurred to me at that moment so I ask him, “Tell me how was it that the other Xarmnian’s were able to wrest the Honor Sword from the boy’s father?”

“There are two ways.  If the Bloodline is not wrapped to the bearer’s arm, the bearer may become separated from it.  The sword wields no power of its own except through connection through the Bloodline and its bearer.  The sword and the bearer are mere branches of a tree, but the Bloodline represents its root joining the two into the power of The One.”

“And the other way?”

“The bearer has to underestimate the Honor Sword.  He has to voluntarily surrender it due to his own beliefs in the necessity of surrendering it.”

“And why did the man surrender it?”

“He didn’t.  He had no sense of the danger he was in when he and his son were seized.  His sword was not bound to him by the Bloodline, so we took the opportunity to take it from him unaware.”

“He was pick-pocketed?!”

“What?”

“Sorry.  A Surface World concept meaning a light-fingered thief lifted the object from his person or the pocket in which valuables were kept.”

“Then yes, as you say, he was…pickpocketed.”

I glanced down at the storied Honor Sword in its scabbard on my hip with a new appreciation for it, now that I understood something of its history.  I wondered if I should, in precaution, wrap the Bloodline to my arm while we traveled so that I might not meet with the same separation as had the boy’s father when he bore it so long ago.  Mattox saw my looking at it and was able to discern my thinking.

“It is fine for now, but do not go into a populated area or town ahead without the Bloodline sash attached to your bearing arm.  In the open, you need freedom of movement and cannot bear the battle sword with every task and with every company you keep.  There is an Ancient Text verse that speaks of those who appreciate the words of the sword and those to whom its words cause only offense because they have no receptivity to it.  Bring it to your aid, but sometimes the ground upon which you cast these seeds, you need to be aware, is as hard as stone.”

“The boy?”

“Perhaps.  Perhaps not.  Time will tell you what kind of soil he has become with maturity.  If he is sincerely seeking answers then there is hope for him too as there was for me.  Even a stone may have a fissure into which seed may fall and sprout.  If the sprout becomes a tree, it will further break up the rock as the roots swell with maturity.  There is always hope, no matter how bleak and remote you might believe it to be.”

I pondered his wise words for some time before speaking again.

“Mattox.”

“Yes?”

“The villages you took over for Xarmni.”

He sighed, not sure where my questioning was headed.

“Did the Xarmnian government authorize and teach you how to cause them to submit to rule?”

“No,” he said and seemed to be pondering painful memories that weighted and knit his brow.

“Xarmnian conquest was to be brutal.  To strike hard and fast and successive and break the people down through might, but this was short-sighted and undermined what they were trying to accomplish.”

“How so?”

“Xarmni needed the people, though they would never acknowledge or admit it.  Brute force can only accomplish so much, but it is a tenuous hold on power, at best.”

I waited, curious to hear his explanation.

“The towns we claimed under my watch, had very little loss of life.  We needed their young men for our armies.  We needed the laborers of the village to continue to produce and plant and harvest crops and raise animals for our collective food stores being depleted by the number of people drawing from them to survive.  To ride in and kill as many people as we could until the town surrendered, was just stupid and short-sighted, though praised and encouraged by the leadership and others.  As I told you, our military is comprised of violent men full of pent-up aggression seeking an outlet.  Decisions made with that level of anger, I learned from my own experience, where almost always the worst decisions made in retrospect and ran counter to what we were trying to accomplish.  Rage is myopic.  Foolish and it has killed far more of our men than I care to think about.  When I took a town, most people yielded without a fight.  Plant a seed and a threat of violence in them, and you often never have to act upon it, if that seed grows into a sense of dread.  Over time, the Xarmnian leadership came to understand why it was that the towns I took for them, were done without losing so many of our soldiers and the infrastructure of the towns did not have to cost Xarmnia so much in revenue to rebuild what the berserker army methods would have destroyed in its capture and conquest.  Fear alone can be motivation enough to break a man’s spirit so that he can be ruled by another.  Despair over his inability to get beyond that fear would make him servile until his needs could only be met by us, and he would never remember the fact that he had once lived independently from us.”

I took in a breath of amazement.  Mattox, The Eagle, truly did have a far-reaching vision and an understanding of human nature, that I had not understood until now.  His moniker was apt and appropriate.  It made him a deadly adversary and now transformed by the One, a very shrewd and valuable leader with the advantage of an insider’s knowledge of Xarmnian war tactics.  The people of Azragoth, and the secret Resistance fighters throughout Xarmnian occupied territories would be well-served under this transformed and renewed General and brilliant strategist.  I was so glad that he was now an ally.

*Scene 02* – 00:00 (Scene Title)

*Scene 03* – 00:00 (What’s In The Bag?)

I looked down and again noticed the pouch containing the rounded weighted object affixed to my belt.

“This thing you’ve given me.  What is it?”

“Not here.”

“What?”

“I need to be certain that we are not overheard.  There are at least two in your company who are not Surface Worlders that cannot hear what I need to tell you.  Once clear of the tunnels just ahead, we will need to speak in private, before I return back to the city.  Keep your circle of trust tight and exclusive.  There are somethings you alone must keep to yourself.  Yours is a very dangerous mission, O’Brian.  Be mindful that careless lips could be its undoing before it has even begun.”

At last, we arrived at a cave opening to the outside forest.  Filtered light streamed in from two large openings where the tunnel looked out through the forest.  Mattox directed Maeven to take the others down the path and guide the wagon of supplies onto the canopied and hidden road, while we spoke privately.

As we moved down the pathway, out from the other’s hearing Mattox said, “There is a hunger deep within everyone’s soul.  It is what should drive you.  The Ancient Text says:

26 A worker’s appetite works for him, For his hunger urges him on. [Proverbs 16:26 NASB]

We are both much older than we once were when first we met, but don’t let that be an excuse for you.  Be a Caleb.  Take your mountain.”

“6 Then the children of Judah came unto Joshua in Gilgal: and Caleb the son of Jephunneh the Kenezite said unto him, Thou knowest the thing that the LORD said unto Moses the man of God concerning me and thee in Kadeshbarnea. 7 Forty years old [was] I when Moses the servant of the LORD sent me from Kadeshbarnea to espy out the land; and I brought him word again as [it was] in mine heart. 8 Nevertheless my brethren that went up with me made the heart of the people melt: but I wholly followed the LORD my God. 9 And Moses sware on that day, saying, Surely the land whereon thy feet have trodden shall be thine inheritance, and thy children’s for ever, because thou hast wholly followed the LORD my God. 10 And now, behold, the LORD hath kept me alive, as he said, these forty and five years, even since the LORD spake this word unto Moses, while [the children of] Israel wandered in the wilderness: and now, lo, I [am] this day fourscore and five years old. 11 As yet I [am as] strong this day as [I was] in the day that Moses sent me: as my strength [was] then, even so [is] my strength now, for war, both to go out, and to come in. 12 Now therefore give me this mountain, whereof the LORD spake in that day; for thou heardest in that day how the Anakims [were] there, and [that] the cities [were] great [and] fenced: if so be the LORD [will be] with me, then I shall be able to drive them out, as the LORD said.”  [Joshua 14:6-12 KJV]

“Don’t worry about all that is ahead of you,” he told me as we walked away, “Just be present in the moments given and take each step wisely.”

Mattox’s words reminded me of the poignant words of a Surface World poet I once heard, which I will share with you here and now.

“Tomorrow is easy, but today is uncharted”

John Ashbery – “Self-portrait in a Convex Mirror” (1975)

“Tomorrow is easy, but today is uncharted,
Desolate, reluctant as any landscape
To yield what are laws of perspective
After all only to the painter’s deep
Mistrust, a weak instrument though
Necessary. Of course some things
Are possible, it knows, but it doesn’t know
Which ones. Some day we will try
To do as many things as are possible
And perhaps we shall succeed at a handful
Of them, but this will not have anything
To do with what is promised today, our
Landscape sweeping out from us to disappear
On the horizon. Today enough of a cover burnishes
To keep the supposition of promises together
In one piece of surface, letting one ramble
Back home from them so that these
Even stronger possibilities can remain
Whole without being tested.”

Source Link: https://www.poemhunter.com/poem/self-portrait-in-a-convex-mirror/

There were plans to be made for what lies ahead of us, but the only action one can really take in preparation was in the here and now, and Mattox was about to reveal to me the significance of what required such secrecy from the others.

Once far enough away from the others, Mattox again turned to me.

“There are actually two things I have given you with that parcel you bear.  Inside is a valuable thing you will need to use to barter with when you reach Skorlith for passage across Lake Cascale to the cities and lands beyond.  But strange as this may seem, the bag in which it is kept is more valuable than what is contained therein.”

“The bag?” I asked.

“Yes.  I will get to the bag.  Be patient.  Inside the bag is a giant pearl, extremely rare and highly valued enough to purchase several seafaring vessels.  But you need only one.”

“Where did this pearl come from?” I asked, “Shouldn’t this be left in Azragoth?  To help finance the resistance?”

“As I told you, this is the spoils of your fight with the Dust Dragon.  These kinds of pearls are not of this world.  That is why they are so rare.  They could only come from a Surface Worlder.  If we tried to use it, it would signify to the buyer that we are in league with Surface Worlders.  The buyer will desire it and be willing to pay handsomely for it.  But if it comes from a Mid-Worlder, that Mid-Worlder will run the risk being followed…straight back to us.”

“But if I offer it…?  Will they know I am a Surface Worlder?”

“Every Mid-Worlder can tell you and the majority of your party are Surface Worlders.  There is no hiding it from us.  Didn’t you know?”

“I didn’t.  How is this possible?”

“We see each of you, with a slight darkling shadow around you.  Apparently, only Mid-Worlders can see that difference.  Whomever you deal with, in this world, they will always know you don’t belong to it, unless…”

“Unless what?”

“Unless you are somehow one of the Half-Men creatures.  But with them, there is an obvious animal difference.  They have the same darkling edges.  But be that as it may…the Pearl.”

“Yes, the pearl.”

“It came from within the tongue of the Dust Dragon.  They are creatures of the between, but in this world, they are a blending of physical and supernatural characteristics.  The pearl is the only thing about them that has any redemptive worth.  As creatures of Deception are wont to do, the Pearl is the part of them that is true, the remains of the good they once were created to be by the One.  Creatures of that sort always blend a half-truth with every lie used to deceive their victims.  The pearl of their tongue forms the unflinching truth, but it is curled in their vile mouths with a lie.  This pearl came from the Dragon you slew.  We carved it out of the tongue you had severed from the beast’s mouth.  As I said this is the spoils of your kill.  It is yours to barter with.  But you need to be judicious in how you spend it.  Mid-Worlders and Xarmnians especially will kill you and your company to possess it.  But they will think twice in doing so when they see you also are bearing an Honor Sword.  I want you to keep it secret, because of the risk it poses to you and your company if any of the people you meet in your journey catch a glimpse of it.  Its value, however, will come in handy when and if you reach Skorlith.”

“So, what do you suggest I barter for with it?”

“With the pearl, you will need to purchase 3 things together.  A savvy sea captain’s hire, his silent discretion as to the reasons for your company’s crossing, and the seaworthy and armored vessel itself.”

“Armored?”

“Haven’t you heard the tales and legends about the Great Lake?”

“Only rumors,” I replied.

“Many of them are, but some of them are not.  There is a very ancient sea beast that swims beneath those waters.  It is called Cetus.  It is hated by the fishermen of the seaports because it disrupts the fishing cycles.  Fishermen have come to blame their bad luck on it, though sometimes the fault is their own ignorance or poor skills.  Sometimes the Cetus can have a positive effect, causing the schools of fish to have a run that drives them shoreward.  If one knows what he is doing, a fisherman can land a great many fish during a run, provided he knows when to come back to shore.  But linger too long, and the Cetus may attack the boat.  This is why you need an armored vessel that has a strong structure and heavy defenses.  Cetus is enough of a problem, but there is known piracy plying across those waters as well.  As I said the way ahead of you has many dangers.”

“So how is the bag more valuable than the contents?”

“Ah yes.  The bag,” Mattox cleared his throat, “Hold it up, will you?”

I untied the gather-string from my waist belt and handed the parcel back to him.

“The giant pearl, though valuable as I’ve said, is actually a clever distraction from the hidden value of the leather purse holding it.  See this seam here?” he indicated a joined-edge laced with a sinew and gut thread.

“The interior of the bag contains intelligence, a map of all of these lands and the Xarmnian and Capitalian territories as well as those lands which still remain outside of their reach.  There are very few of these maps in all of the Mid-World, and these were compiled over many years’ time, often at personal risk, and smuggled behind enemy territories with great pains, artifice, misdirection, and sleight of hand.  Thousands would be sent to their deaths if this ever fell into the hands of the Xarmnians and the secret uprising would be devastated if not crushed.  On the outside, it appears to be fool scraps of material, serving a simple purpose.  Anyone who does not know to look will become so distracted by the contents of the bag, so they may toss it away without a moment’s thought, thinking they have with the pearl the greater treasure.  If you are ever in a situation where you are waylaid for valuables, surrender the pearl, but be willing to fight to your death to keep this bag in your possession.  Let no one know of its existence, save only those in whom you have absolute faith and trust.  They too must be willing to fight to the death to keep that bag.  Once you have dispensed with the pearl, tuck the map away.  You will not need it until you get beyond the far shoreline of Lake Cascale.  After that, only unfold it in private and remove the seam.  You will need to warm the leather to reveal what has been written upon it.  Not only does it show the boundaries of the old world, before the Xarmnians and Capitalians settled here, it also shows the modern territories and their current names.  It shows troop strongholds, hidden and in the open.  It shows areas where we have our resistance fighters in place and regional code words to be used within the hearing of our fighters.  Use the words and your traveling party will be made welcome and you will be received as an ally with those of us remaining in Azragoth.  On our recent trip into the interior and climb up to the zenith of Mount Zefat, I added my own contribution to this map and the one we retain for safe-keeping.”

“And what was that?”

“The current progress and positioning of the troops of the Xarmnian held territories and those others of their clan being led by the clandestine night movements of each of their Builder Stones.  I have indicated three possible convergent points where their movements indicate those individual clans might meet upon potential fields of battle.  If at all possible, in your quest, avoid these places as much as you can, unless you are absolutely certain that The Voice of the One is guiding you there.”

“How should we get around these places?”

“As I told you before.  Be like Caleb.  Take to the Mountains.”

“But we were warned that there are Half-men there, violent rock trolls, and followers of The Pan.”

“That is correct.  But you will need to put that Honor Sword to use.  The Pan’s kingdom is concentrated in the forests below the mountains.  The mountains themselves are the outliers of The Pan’s domain.  You may meet with resistance there, probably likely, but not in such concentrations.  But even so, if you are being led by The One, even if the mountains contained an army of giants, you would be the most protected following His direction.  Have the belief and confidence of Caleb, as he did in the days of old in the legends of The Surface World.  Nothing would stop that old man from claiming what was promised to him.  You need that kind of resolve and determination, O’Brian.  Let that flame be kindled in you and it will inspire those you lead.”

He held out his hand to me and I took it, each grasping the forearm of one another in mutual trust.  How odd I thought, this calling and this journey of faith with its perils and triumphs and its renewal and resurrections.  Here we stood together.  Two men, who were once sworn enemies, now joined together in a mutual bond of trust.

There was nothing more to be said, and we parted ways, me heading down to join my company as we pressed forward into unknown dangers ahead, Mattox returning back to the caverns we had journeyed through to this point.  I saw him step behind a stand of trees and disappear for a moment, and then emerge from it again now mounted on horseback.  A fine gray dappled stallion standing 16 hands high at the shoulder.  A powerfully muscled animal, equipped for carrying battle armor, and a man of commanding stature.  Mattox turned the horse and waved to me once more, before disappearing into the caverns once again.

“Take your mountain,” he had told me, and I set my resolve and determined that was just exactly what I would do.