Dawn (Society of Dawn Book 1) Read online

  “Lady Eos, he is a refugee from Duedonia. The Scythians have attacked, burned…”

  Athena withdrew her hand and returned to the center of the room. Behind her women sat in chairs surrounding an empty, tiled floor. Their eyes looked through Aeschylus and Helius. There was palpable tension in the air of fears and suspicions not yet articulated. “We are well aware of the threat from the Scythians,” replied the Warden of the South.

  Aeschylus remained kneeling, while Helius simply looked around befuddled. Around the center of the room were assembled a thousand women in stadium seating that curved toward a simple chair at the back, in which a plain woman sat: Lady Eris, Warden of the West.

  Her brown hair was pulled back into a bun and her face was unpainted. Equally brown eyes watched the guardian of Aurora with suspicion. She had met the man once before and thought the heiress of House D’naia to be too infatuated with her slave. A great necklace of beautiful jewels and broken teeth hung around her long, slender neck.

  She wore no clothes.

  It was not uncommon for women of Pa’ngarin to wear no clothing amongst their peers. Many within the Society of the Dawn felt clothes represented the oppression of men, a remnant from an older time. Now men could not look upon an Ascendant unless commanded, and even then it was not for the pleasure of the slave.

  “Rise,” spoke Lady Eris irritably.

  The guardian rose quickly and averted his eyes. He knew quite well the madness of the Warden of the West. “Are you well, Lady Eris, Minor Ascendant of Ma’oren and Warden of the West? I have not seen you…”

  Lady Eris stood.

  Aeschylus knelt once more.

  She strode forward, taking long steps until she loomed over the guardian. Athena smiled as she watched the subservience of Aurora’s slave. “We are not familiar, slave. You serve Aurora and House D’naia. My well-being is none of your concern. Why did the guards let you in? What is the meaning of bringing this bastard man-child into my Sphere?”

  Aeschylus remained impassive. “I have come seeking Lady Aurora, your Grace. I sent her on alone as Duedonia was being assaulted…”

  Eris slapped Aeschylus hard across the face, and when he did not budge, she commenced slapping and punching him on the back until her ample chest was heaving. “You sent your charge on alone,” she screamed. “I should have you hanged for this. What would compel a primate such as you to make decisions about the life of a Child of the Dawn, of the heiress to Pa’ngarin?”

  “I have no excuse, your Grace. Though it was my belief that the Scythians were in Duedonia looking for Aurora, and I thought she would be safer if she were closer to Pa’ngarin, and here in Ma’oren with you.”

  This gave Eris pause.

  “Clearly she would be safer with her sisters, but why would you send her on alone?”

  “I could not let Scythians live when they had spilled the blood of the Society of the Dawn, of children and women under the protection of the Lordess Ascendant. I felt it was my duty to wipe the Scythian stain from your lands.”

  The room murmured. Women turned to their sisters and whispered amongst themselves. Eris took a few steps back and pointed a finger at the kneeling guardian. “And what of the two men guarding our doors? Are they dead?”

  Aeschylus shook his head, but did not stand.

  “Why not?” she snarled.

  Aeschylus swallowed and closed his eyes. There was little room for patience in Pa’ngarin when it came to the incompetence of men. “It was not their fault, your Grace. I gave them a command. They could not have done otherwise.”

  Eris smiled viciously. “They should not take commands from men, even if it is a man as strange and useful as you.”

  “Yes, your Grace.”

  Athena touched the guardian’s shoulder.

  “And what of the man-child? Is he a Child of the Dawn?”

  Aeschylus could feel the heat in his throat, the dryness of his mouth. “No, your Grace. He is an orphan. I do not know where he is from.” The Pa’ngarin slave paused. “He has not yet spoken, your Grace.”

  “A mute?” parroted Lady Eos.

  “So where is Aurora? Why have you come to my court without your charge? If you sent her ahead alone, why then do you stand here alone?” spoke Athena slowly.

  “I do not know. I saw her horse’s tracks on the road outside of Ma’oren, but if you have not seen her…”

  Eris screamed until she was doubled over, the sound echoing and rebounding throughout the chamber. “You do not know where your charge is? You do not know where the heiress to the Ivory Throne is?”

  “No, your Grace. She has not been received in Ma’oren?”

  Furious, Eris approached him again, her hand raised as if to strike him. “Do not play a fool, guardian. I would not welcome this rage if I knew where my blessed Sister of the Dawn was.”

  Aeschylus felt his heart pound harder. Panic overwhelmed him, yet he remained kneeling, unwavering beneath her verbal and physical assault.

  It was the gravelly voice of Urd that silenced the court. “I have seen the Goddess of the Old and New, the one true Lordess of the Ivory Throne,” spoke the crone clearly despite the size of the amphitheater.

  Eris looked to her, lips pursed in anger.

  “Where did you see Aurora?”

  Her feet not sure beneath her, Urd walked with a staggered limp toward the center of the room. “I spoke to her at the entrance of the city proper. She seemed distressed by me.”

  Athena scoffed. “Not hard to imagine.”

  The crone looked at the Magister.

  “There were shadows afoot, the great darkness dancing on the winds.”

  “We do not have time for your superstitious rants, Urd of the Marshes. If you saw something, we need to know,” commanded Athena.

  Helius looked to the old woman. The use of the word marshes had drawn his attention to her. Would this woman reveal something terrible to this frightening collection of angry women? Aeschylus had alluded to him being a mute.

  Helius could not betray that now.

  Urd turned slowly, like a nightmare. Pointing a crooked, dirty finger at Helius, her voice rose loudly. “Harbinger. That boy is the harbinger of darkness, of the rise of the Throne of Shadows. Ancient myths will be reborn from his blood. The Nine and Shadows walking the realm once more….”

  Eris moved quickly and lifted the boy with ease. Staring into his eyes, the Warden of the West sought truth in the depth of his gaze. “This boy brings the shadows? The howling darkness from the Throne of Shadows? How can you be sure of this, Urd?”

  The crone shook her head and lowered her arm. “The signs are muddled. He is a harbinger of great anger and hate that will descend on the realm. The freezing darkness and the boiling snow from beneath spreads from his fingertips.”

  Aeschylus stood abruptly, anger boiling over into his words.

  “What about Aurora?”

  Athena did not have to cross the room to strike the guardian across the mouth; instead she struck him with a blackened telescopic staff that made the slave drop to his knees. “You do not command here, guardian. No harm will befall Aurora. We are not west of the Arcadians where more of your kind would rape and visit violence upon her. We are in the realm under the guiding light of Pa’ngarin. She may be missing, but she is not lost from our vision, slave.”

  Aeschylus wiped the blood from his lip only to receive another strike, a blow that lowered him to his hands and knees. “Leave it, slave,” Athena commanded.

  Urd looked to Aeschylus. If the guardian had not known better, he thought he saw compassion in her eyes. “Aurora has been taken by men on horseback who rode north toward I’mann. I saw them take her from a great distance, so I could use none of my tricks to stop them.”

  “By men? What men would be bold enough to take the heiress to the Ivory Throne?” spoke Lady Eos, her gray eyes turning to Athena.

  “It was those rebels, those fools who believe that by saving every rotten, weak male child they wi
ll be able to rise up. I have ridden into the forests of the North with the Inquisitors, but I have never seen ashes from their fires or the broken branches of their camp,” replied Athena with a distant look.

  “Your Grace, may I speak?” spoke Aeschylus after a pause.

  “Speak, slave,” replied Eris.

  Aeschylus stood, bowing to Athena before turning to the Warden of the West. “If I may be so bold, Lady Eris, I will be able to track them.”

  The Warden of the South could not hide her amusement at his claim. “You presume to be a better tracker than I, slave? Better than the Protector of the Realm? What makes you believe that you can track these filthy men into the deep woods of the North?”

  The guardian took a step forward, moving his jaw in pain. “They will not expect a man to pursue them. As you are fond of reminding me, men are weak and stupid. And as such, they will expect an experienced tracker like you to follow them deep into the uncharted. If I take the boy and ride hard, I believe I might catch them by surprise.”

  Aeschylus looked to Eris, and Eris to Athena. “What say you, Magister and Protector of the Realm? Can this man find the heiress so simply?”

  Athena took a few steps past Aeschylus to the center of the chamber. “They are not far ahead. How long ago did you see them, Urd?”

  “Hours at the most,” replied the crone.

  The Protector of the Realm raised a hand. “They will have trouble riding hard over this land. Travel will be slow and Aurora will not be a willing participant in their abduction. If they have four or five men, the most that they could have brought into Ma’oren without notice, they will not be able to cover much ground.”

  Aeschylus nodded. “I agree, Warden of the South.”

  “I do not require your agreement, slave.”

  “And yet you have it, your Grace,” replied the guardian.

  “What of the child? Will he be able to ride as is necessary to chase down these men?” challenged Eris, pointing at Helius.

  The orphan from Elitlh was suddenly quite aware that he was being talked about. He felt paralyzed by fear at the terrifyingly loud voices of the women as well as the level of violence they perpetrated against Aeschylus. And for a moment he had believed himself mute, for he could not speak. Aeschylus looked at Helius darkly and the boy understood.

  He was not to speak.

  Nodding his head furiously, Helius made himself clear.

  Eris returned to her chair, crossing one leg over the other and placing her hands on the soft silk rests. She looked about the chambers of the Dawn Sphere and smiled. “You have your orders, guardian. Retrieve your charge and present her at the Court of the Nine Blossoms. I will send riders ahead to Pa’ngarin for the Lordess Ascendant so that she may know of your insolence and recklessness in the care of your charge.”

  “As you say, your Grace.”

  Aeschylus bowed, and then placed a hand on Helius’ shoulder as he rose once more. The boy looked scared and the guardian could not blame him. The Scythians’ excursion into Duedonia had put them all on alert; they were more frightened than they appeared. And the witch had only made matters worse with her prophetic maunderings.

  As the guardian turned to leave, the Warden of the West spoke once more.

  “Guardian.”

  He bowed once more. “Yes, your Grace?”

  “Return my guards to the void as you leave. I cannot have men of such incompetence serving me, though I fear your sex is quite doomed to begin with when it comes to intelligence.”

  “As you say, your Grace. Your will is done.”

  Athena watched them go with a bemused smirk on her lips. She enjoyed his pain. Were it not for their biology, the Warden of the South would see all men thrown into Lake I’mann. Scythians were simply un-collared men. Their sex had the capacity for violence, a need for power, and greed so deep it clouded judgment.

  As the boy and man disappeared beyond sight, the words of Urd lingered.

  Dione

  There was darkness, and then flashes of translucent light interspersed with unfocused images. Aeschylus rode low on his mare, sword drawn and extended ahead of him. There was a small child, bleeding and frightened. Aurora was aglow with powerful waves of energy pouring from her like water from a dam.

  Eyes snapped open.

  Green irises looked out into darkness.

  The Lordess Ascendant meditated in a dhias, a great pool of water. She sat cross-legged, her body unfettered by cloth or fabric.

  The carved granite and quartz dome above her head sparkled despite the darkness of the chamber, and the calm water was deep and dark.

  Her visions were of the past, of the future.

  The water chamber was not a device of foresight. But through it, the mind of an Ascendant could connect with all of nature, a communion with the very energies of the universe. By harnessing these energies, a powerful Ascendant could un-tether the strings of cause and effect, to see the world without context.

  As she stood, water sluiced from her in rivulets and heavy droplets. She raised her hand and turned it slightly. The water became a heavy mist and, in an instant, she was quite dry.

  Two men appeared from the edges of the room.

  Heavy steel collars rung their necks.

  They were clothed in rags that only covered their genitals. Tall with wide shoulders, they were frighteningly thin. With the same dark hair and blue eyes, they were mirror images of each other except for the shape of their bald heads and the long, dark scars from lashes and blades alike that marred their body.

  “Leave me,” she commanded with a dry voice.

  The twins left and a woman clothed in a blue dress appeared. Her auburn hair was pulled back into a bun, wisps from her bangs touching her chin and cheek. “Lordess Ascendant, what have you seen?”

  The Lordess Ascendant’s green eyes sedately looked upon the woman. The chamber, though relaxing, was taxing on her energies, on the deep spirits on which she called. “Lady Tethys, I require my ceremonial gowns, and some tea, if you would be so kind.”

  Tethys left the chamber, leaving the ruler of Pa’ngarin alone with her thoughts. She had once been called Dione of House D’naia, Warden of the North, Protector of the Realm, a title now held by Lady Athena. Her titles had meant so much to her then, when life was the acquisition of status. Now that the realm was hers to command, she felt the weight of that responsibility.

  It was suffocating.

  Tethys returned with a long garment woven of light material and a steaming cup of tea. She placed the robe next to Dione and, holding the tea cup in two hands, extended it toward the Lordess Ascendant. “Your tea, Lordess.”

  “Thank you, Tethys. I find the communion more difficult these days.”

  Tethys stood and looked upon her with a pleasant smile. “Do you wish for a concubinus, my Lordess? There are many new men who have been added to your harem. Thin and strong as you like them.” And then with a subtle twist of her lips. “Thick as well, my Goddess.”

  Dione waved her hand dismissively and sat down on a stone bench just in front of the dhias. Taking the tea cup she spoke. “There is a rider coming from Ma’oren. When she arrives, send her up immediately.”

  Tethys looked at her with concern.

  Often when Dione sat in the dhias for extended periods of time she had haunting visions, images of a world covered in shadow and blood, of boiling lands and burnt fields, of snow blanketing the lands around Pa’ngarin.

  “What have you seen, my Goddess?”

  Dione sighed as she sipped the tea quietly. “Violence and death, Sister of the Dawn, a great horror will soon befall us. The cataclysm is coming, the great darkness that will cover the lands in forever night.”

  “Forever night? You mean the return of the Nine? The Shadows Reborn?”

  The Lordess Ascendant nodded soberly. “I saw Aurora ascend. Her powers were incredible. She wielded them with such hate….” Dione paused, a slight sob in her voice. “There was such hate in her that I felt
it through the communion. I saw a child of blood and the guardian of House D’naia riding on horseback.”

  “What does it mean, my Goddess?”

  Dione looked at her with tears in her eyes. “War.”

  Aurora

  Aurora opened her eyes slowly and looked up at the canopy of branches and leaves overhead. The sun had set and little light penetrated the darkness beneath the overgrowth. There was a small fire burning low beside her, and it looked as if it had not been tended to in some time. In the undergrowth around her she heard the shuffling of steps and the soft neighing of horses.

  The heiress to the Ivory Throne tried to recall how she ended up in such unfamiliar surroundings. She remembered meeting the woman, Urd, in Ma’oren and then riding away from her in relief. Then something struck her. She reached up and touched a sore place on the back of her skull. The last thing she could remember was a man with brown eyes and a beard towering over her.

  He was not of Pa’ngarin.

  Aurora heard twigs breaking nearby and pulled her feet underneath her body. The footfalls were heavy and distinct. She thought to call out, to challenge whoever was lurking in the darkness, but her rational mind knew better. It would not serve her well to seem weak among the brigands who had abducted her.

  A figure stopped just outside the small fire.

  She recognized his face.

  Though dark scars marred his facial features, his furious brown eyes cut through the Maiden’s confidence.

  Aurora felt fear crawl down her spine, and a small whimper escaped her lips as she adjusted her position. “Why have you taken me?” she spoke slowly, careful not to let a stammer or stutter into her voice.

  He stepped closer. And she sneered as she saw his unshaven chest, its wild hair growing in erratic directions. She thought of Aeschylus whose chest was also not smooth like a child’s. But this man was not like Aeschylus. There was something profoundly primal and animalistic about him.

  His words were broken, uneven, as if he had difficulty speaking. “You are … child-queen, no?” he spoke in a raspy voice.