CHAPTER ONE

Distinct hues of white sparkle in the young child’s eyes as she gapes absentmindedly at the snow-covered terrain. It seems to blind her as she glares with wide, hopeless eyes from her bedroom window. A feeling of desolation creeps over her as she tries to deem the one justification that would clarify why her father has brought her to this solitary confinement. She and her father have dwelled in this shack, away from everything. She wished she knew the reason, but her father would not tell her until the day he thought she was old enough to comprehend.

The hushed opening of the bedroom door breaks her concentration. She turns to her father who is standing in the doorway, and runs to meet him as he kisses her cheek. “Hello, Daddy.”

“Hello, Briar, dear. I hope I did not interrupt a pleasant daydream. What were you thinking of when I abruptly entered?”

“Oh, nothing important. I am delighted to see you, Daddy!” she clamors. She pivots her feet to the window and gazes out over the snowy slopes of the range of mountains, in the distance, partially hidden by the gray mist.

“Something troubles you, Love.”

“Oh, Daddy,” she sighs, “Whatever is our purpose in this forsaken place? Tell me the actual reason why we are here.”

“Don’t cry, Darling, for there is a perfectly suitable explanation. It is just that you are not old enough to know yet. You would not completely understand. Do not be so morose.” He places his hands on her shoulders and turns her to him to study her agitated profile.

There is a pout to her lower lip; her deep blue eyes stare into the dark brown depths of his, longingly. “When will I be old enough to know?”

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Briar was a genteel girl of fourteen years. Her mother died when she was eight, and her father, Brark had brought her to this place to raise her. He had enlightened her on how to be a lady, proper etiquette, how to read and write, and how to express herself with dignity. She now procrastinated about her next assignment, a lesson in survival.

Before Brark and his departed wife, Brister, had married, Brark had been known as a master swordsman and gladiator. He had been the best friend of the king’s son, Anton and had witnessed his blood brother’s death. He had vowed to avenge his comrade. He would find the Prince’s assassin if it was the last thing he ever did. Times deviated for Brark when he met Brister. He felt that he could not live without her, so he made her his mate. In the first year of their marriage and having no luck solving the mystery of his friend’s death, Brark and his young bride settled down to raise a family. Although this dream and fortuity unexpectedly came up, Brark never relinquished in his hunt. He yearned for a son to carry on his intentions.

Briar was the son he never had. He thought all hope was lost, for he was growing older, and he never imagined that a daughter could ever succeed at such a dangerous mission. Any hopes of finding Anton’s murderer were considered worthless until eight years later when Brister was brutally raped and slaughtered. He subconsciously knew that Brister’s and Anton’s assailant was undoubtedly one and the same, and also that this man was purging his cherished ones to compensate for something that had occurred many years before.

On Briar’s fifteenth birthday, he would convey to his daughter the valid truth of her mother’s death. He would tell her his story, hoping that she would feel his power and his anger. Then he would teach her the skills he had learned in the king’s court. Only when she too had mastered the skills of a swordsman and gladiator would he be able to rest and die in peace.

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The girl’s fifteenth birthday was within the week, and Brark had rode the fifty miles to the nearest town, Rasdij, to buy a gold chain for the emerald given to him by his long lost friend, Prince Anton. The emerald had the imperial symbol of Cirosa engraved in it: crossed swords with a majestic crown at the junction. With this, the regal family would trust her; her true identity would be known by the king, and he would accept her as one of his own. The symbol was one of royalty, valor, and dominion. He could only wish that she would have the concern and passion to carry out his ambitions.

Three days later, Brark entered his daughter’s bedroom just as the sun ascended high above Mt. Clyo, so that he could astound her with the emerald necklace on this day, the commencement of her sixteenth year on Cirosa. She woke to the delicate stroke of his finger on her cheek. A smile widened the corners of her lips as her perception cleared and she could see the gold box that he was holding.

“Happy birthday, dear,” boasts her father. “I have a little present for you!”

“Oh, Daddy, there is really no need for you to give me a gift. All I want is that you are here with me; but I do adore you for the thought.” She rattles the box, trying to guess the contents. She opens it, peering inside. The intensity of the emerald reaches the depths of her eyes. Brark vows them to be the same brilliant color. She beams, and falls into his warm embrace. “Oh thank you, Daddy; it is so very lovely, and I shall never take it off.” She kisses him briefly and then examines it about her neck. “I love it!”

Brark secures it around her neck. The massive stone nestles itself between the ivory mounds of her breasts. Her golden brown hair cascades onto her tiny shoulders on either side of the magnificent jewel. The bodice of her nightgown falls inches below it, furnishing a faithful compliment.

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Brark knew that the time had come for Briar to know the truth; so, he began the extensive story of his past. “Briar, you are my only child, and I love you more than life. You must believe that I don’t wish to distress you on this day or any other day, but I feel now that you must know why you are here before it’s too late.”

The girl’s eyes amplify with eagerness. “Are you finally going to tell me why I am here, after seven long and desolate years?”

“Yes, Briar, I am going to tell you the whole story. It all began when I was seventeen, not much older than yourself.” He relaxes, bringing to mind those marvelous days. “I was serving His Majesty in Larso, as commander of the Royal Legion. They admired my skills as a swordsman and contender. I had not been fully drilled under the rules of the court, but I had a natural talent. I was as worthy a master of weaponry as the King’s son, Prince Anton. But, you see, the prince had an advantage over me; he had a better sword than I, one that was omnipotent and far more magical than mine.” His hand slips to the handle of the sword in his scabbard, which he had brought into her room with him, and he pulls his blade out, revealing the silver sheen of it. It is sterling silver, four feet in length and six inches broad at the base. “How could there be a sword more handsome than this, I thought. But there is; it is called Tanscaberal and it is out there somewhere!”

“What does that have to do with me and this banned penitentiary?” cries the baffled girl.

“Be patient.” He continues, “Anton and I became true friends, and soon, besides joining the King’s regiment, I was appointed Anton’s first officer. It seemed as though we were brothers, we were that close. We hunted together, we confided in each other about everything that was happening in our lives, and we told each other our most significant secrets. I trusted him with my life.”

“Go on,” she says.

“He also took my advise about many things. There was one time, which I deem may be the origin of all of this…..” He told her about an incident in which the prince had taken his suggestion to execute a man believed to be guilty, but was later proved to be innocent. They never found the guilty party. The anonymous criminal had stolen Prince Anton’s mighty sword, Tanscaberal, and no one had any idea of his identity. “After I met your mother, I unfortunately discovered the truth about the man involved. It was a man named Tedra, someone whom the people would have never suspected to pull such a heinous crime. I was hesitant to get involved, knowing that if my suspicions were wrong, I could possibly jeopardize the preaching of the forefathers. However, I also knew that if I was right, I could save many lives. I unknowingly had no choice in the matter; I was already too involved. I was not sure what I was going to do, until I realized that Tedra was the same man that I would spend my life searching for after the day that my friend was assassinated…” He sounds distant, reminiscing about that scandalous afternoon.

“What happened, Daddy? Was someone killed?” beseeches Briar.

“Anton and I had gone on a dangerous hunting expedition that weekend, arrogantly without a single bodyguard. The nearby town of Eton had been completely destroyed. Its inhabitants had all been annihilated; men, women, and children had been mutilated and their bodies ripped to shreds. The two of us had left the palace immediately upon hearing the news, unsure of what we were up against. The rumors in the land rang of a horrid beast, which had been spotted near the area. Anton and I were skilled hunters. We thought we could hunt down this beast and destroy it before it killed again. The urgency of the situation was what made us act so hastily, and so ignorantly. We didn’t realize it was all a trap until we were walking through a barren field of burnt flesh and we heard a familiar voice coming from the top of one of the charred trees. We ran for cover instantly, trying to hide. Suddenly, there was fire everywhere. Anton was about to whisper something to me when his phrase was cut short by a silver-tipped arrow through his larynx. He was dead before I could return him to the palace.”

“I am sorry, Daddy.”

“I was distraught; it was like the arrow pierced my own heart. Then I caught a glimpse of Tedra in the bushes behind us, from whence the arrow came. He was staring at me wickedly; and suddenly, I knew the truth that so many people had wondered about. It was like a revelation that hit me like a bolt of lightning. I knew that Tedra had stolen Tanscaberal, the sword of Anton, out of greed for power. I thought I understood why he killed Anton, possibly because he knew I was looking for him; or perhaps he was trying to prove to me that he could be dangerous. Maybe Anton had threatened him when he was searching for the lost sword. There was so much more to it that I was not aware of. My anger mounted to such extremes that I did not care what would happen to me. I had to avenge Anton.” He pauses reflectively. “For the people, I had to find the stolen sword. If only you knew what Tanscaberal was capable of, you would understand. I was aware of its incredible powers, only because I had experienced it first hand. I knew too that when Tedra was found, he would undergo a most horrific execution on the charges of treason, theft, and the murder of the heir to the throne. I gloried in that vision. I swore that I would be the one to find him! I would retaliate my blood-brother’s death!” His voice and emotions increase steadily as he speaks the last few words, almost rising from his seat next to her.

“I am sorry for the loss of your friend, Daddy, but what I don’t understand is what this has to do with me and this desolate place. Why have you kept me here for the last seven years? Were you in fear for your life?” she asks despairingly.

“I married your mother a few months later. I gave all of my love to her. I wanted to forget all of the pain and despair from the recent events and the loss of Prince Anton. I wanted to concentrate on a glorious future with my new bride, but I could never erase the thought of my friend dying in my arms. The memory of that still burns deep within me. Then you were born and the desire to move on was necessary. Your mother begged me to let it go so that we could be free and live as a family in harmony.” He pauses and kisses her gently on the forehead. “ We were so happy with your arrival that I vowed to abandon my pain in order to make our lives complete and blissful.”

He smiles at her; then he continues somberly. “The ordeal with Tedra had calmed for a time, the mourning for Prince Anton ended and no more words of the matter had been spoken. The people allowed their young heir to rest in peace. I realized that I was the only one that could do anything but I did not wish to risk my newfound happiness and my new family. I had a wonderful bride and a captivatingly beautiful daughter… and then eight short years later, my dream was shattered when my true love perished during one of Tedra’s raids on the castle.” He is on the brink of emotional distress. “All that I had ever dreamed… destroyed forever… and my thoughts turned back to the loss of my friend.”

“So you brought me here to escape my mother’s memory?” she asks quietly, “Is that the reason for your impetuousness?”

“No!” he exclaims, “I was falling deeply into a depression over my losses, and I was going mad! Your mother and I wanted so much for you. We wanted you to have the fullest life. We wanted you to grow up as a princess. Never did I imagine that our lives would become so different. The Queen was going to make you a lady-in-waiting in her private court. It could have been so extraordinary had it not been for a secret note that I found near your mother’s body. In the note, Tedra stated that he was, in fact, the one who had stolen the sword and that he, to that day, still reveled in the moment when he had killed Anton. He was also the one who had assaulted and killed your mother. He promised to haunt all of my days on Cirosa. So I ran, here, where he could never find me, so that I could raise you the best that I could.”

“He obviously still haunts you. Why did you lie to me?” she cries, “You told me that momma died of a heart condition!”

“I didn’t want the nightmares to haunt you, too. It was not necessary for you to suffer like that, being so young. I couldn’t tell you that this man had brutalized your mother, my dear wife. He raped her, he beat her, and then he murdered her. I didn’t know if I had done something to deserve this torment, but I knew that you didn’t.” He pauses briefly, “I am telling you this because I want you to take up my vow for vengeance on Tedra for both Anton and your mother. I want you to seek him out, reacquire Tanscaberal, and take Tedra to Larso to be tried before the king. I know that this is a lot to ask of you but you must track him, even to the ends of Cirosa, and bring him to justice.”

“How can I accomplish such an incredible feat? I am not skilled enough to undertake this quest that you ask of me, Daddy. How can I even begin to acquire the knowledge and training that I need to do this?”

“I was Commander of the King’s Legion. I was an expert swordsman and gladiator. With this sword, I will teach you how to master the skills as I did. It is destiny that you will avenge the death of your mother. The people of Cirosa are your people, and you must save them from Tedra and his evil plans.”

Briar grasps the sword and attempts to raise it in front of her but the weight of it is overwhelming. As the tip of the blade falls toward the floor, her eyes meet his. “How can I wield a weapon that I cannot even carry?”

“I will teach you to use the sword and you will become accustomed to the weight in time.”

“Then I will take vengeance on the worm that killed my mother! I promise you, Daddy, that his head will fall to my blade.”

“I will be with you every step of the way, but there are a few things that you must know. There are problems that you will encounter and trials you will face. With Anton’s sword, Tanscaberal, Tedra has power over King Zoris but only if he knows how to use that power. Supposedly, Anton was the only one who knew how to use Tanscaberal’s powers. That is why the forefathers gave him the sword, as the heir to the throne. Apparently, Tedra has not discovered how to use the sword’s true magic or he would have used it before now. You must make sure that he never learns that he can prevail over the world with that weapon!” He pauses, watching her reaction for any signs of her being unsure of his request.

“I understand, Daddy,” she replies solemnly.

“But wait; there’s more that I must tell you. Besides knowing how to use various weapons, you must know something else. As I have watched you grow up, I have seen distinct characteristics in you that I have seen before in other young ladies. You must realize that there are men in this world who will try to take advantage of your beauty and your virtue. You must be strong. You must resist any temptation. You must overcome all of your fears. You will undoubtedly encounter many men who will attempt to force you into things that are forbidden to you. Listen to me carefully. You must always be in control; do not allow any man to influence you in any way.”

She replies almost hypnotically, “I will be no man’s woman and no man’s slave!”

“Your forefathers have written these words in a journal which has been passed down to me through the years.”

Brark steps out of the room for a moment to retrieve the log.

When he returns, he says, “You must keep this with you at all times; you must read it thoroughly. It’s written here that if you are a female, and you wish to enter the arena of the gladiator, it is forbidden for you to love any man unless he is of your own blood and related to your being. Love is powerful; yet it weakens the mind. The mind of a fighter must always be true and free of any emotional conflict. The conflict is with your enemy, not within your mind. Ponder your decision before you take this final step toward your future. Once you have stepped into the arena, there is no turning back…ever. If you choose to undertake this quest, may the spirits of your forefathers be with you. It is prohibited for you to ever love; the penalty is death.”

Brark’s eyes rise to meet with hers. She ponders the thought agonizingly.

“I cannot love; that should not be difficult…or will it be?” she asks.

“It may be the hardest obstacle you will ever face in your lifetime.”

After a few moments, she replies, “I will rejoice the day that Tedra dies and I have my vengeance.”

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Larso, the capital city, was a rich port city on the banks of the Kwain River. The people of this town were merchants, tradesmen, and traveling sailors that came and went with the products that were imported and exported to and from Larso. Larso, like any other city, had a modest crime rate and the people there were happy and content. Wealth abounded amongst most of the people; their style of living was one of luxury and riches. Off in the distance to the south was a mountain range. A large forest extended around the entire city from the southeast to the southwest, providing an excellent defense for the city.

Many miles down the Kwain River to the south, as it cut through the mountain range, stood a tower. The tower was hidden from sight by the mountains on three sides. From the river, though, the black tower stood out against the gray of the mountains. Its distance above the river made for a very difficult climb up a sheer rock face, thus making it nearly impossible to reach. Many had tried to reach the tower, but none had returned alive.

In this tower, lives the magician, Tedra, renowned for both his magical ability and his hatred for King Zoris and the imperial family. On this night, in the very top room of the tower, Tedra studies his spell book, while his apprentice is working just outside the door, cleaning the lab.

“Apprentice, come here now!” Tedra yells at the closed door.

“Yes, Master?” he answers, as he enters the room. The apprentice is dressed in an old, tattered black robe, with a hood covering most of his face.

“I wish for you to take up a quest.”

“As you command, Master.”

“I want for you to go to the royal palace in Larso, and stay there. While there, I want you to work at the castle and become friends with the future queen. Take her into your confidence and stay close to her, because I need you in that position for a future endeavor that I have planned.” He reaches into his desk and removes a ring. “Take this ring. It will teleport you here when you need to speak to me.”

The apprentice takes the ring, places it into the folds of his robe, bows deeply, turns and exits the room. Tedra smiles wickedly, contemplating his next move against the regal city. For three years, he had laid dormant, as he regained his strength for his next attack. This time, he was determined to confront Zoris, whom had always managed to evade him before. He was well aware that the king was growing older and weaker in strength, yet stronger in spirit as time passed. He knew the only way to defeat this power was to catch the king, unguarded; hence he had not made a move in three years. Tedra had purposely allowed a time of peace to linger, causing the king’s armies to guess what his next move might be or when it might take place. Meanwhile, he studied his spell books and refurbished his powers, patiently.

“Soon,” he whispers aloud, “Soon the throne will be mine.”

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In the dim moonlight, a hooded shadow lurks through the empty streets. A short distance ahead, the crystal gates to the palace shimmer like a cluster of stars. Four armored guards stand poised at the gates like statues, unmoving. Large stone lions sit on either side of the entrance, their massive teeth snarling in the moonlight. The disguised figure, hidden by the billowing cloak, slowly approaches the towering gates; then it disappears in the dark shadows of the open road.

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In the gloomy, windowless tower, high above the river, Tedra stands, facing the wall of his study. His straight, blond hair falls past his shoulders onto the hood of his lavish robe. His eyes are piercing green, his eyebrows thick. A neatly trimmed mustache and beard frame his thin lips. His cheekbones are high and distinguished, and the veins in his temples press against the leather strap tied around his forehead.

“O Pepzime enla Potizmal,” he chants. Suddenly, the stones in the wall begin to separate from each other, rhythmically, to reveal a hidden room. The walls of the room are covered in plush red velvet beneath sheer golden curtains, which are tied towards the bottom with gold ropes. Gold and jeweled treasures cover over half of the floor. Tedra steps into the room and raises his right hand slowly. With his movement, the wall closes behind him. Then he turns towards his left, where a long rectangular chest sits alone on a mahogany table. The chest is carved with intricate details depicting ancient scriptures.

Tedra raises his robed arm, extending his fingers towards the chest. The dusty box begins to rattle on the table. Then, mystically, it levitates through the air in the magician’s direction, stopping directly in front of him. Tedra raises his hand and it stops, still hovering in the air. Then, Tedra clenches his hand into a fist and the lid of the chest opens. He reaches inside with both hands to pull out a magnificent sheathed sword. He holds the sword in front of him, caressing the diamond-encrusted scabbard gently. The hilt of the sword is solid platinum, perfectly etched with crushed diamonds in an elaborate pattern design. The shape of the handle is unique, and perfectly symmetrical, not possibly created by human error. The hilt and the scabbard sparkle in his hands and in the depths of his smiling eyes.

“Tanscaberal. Soon, I will know your secrets, my friend. I will know the glory of your power!” he whispers. “Only one man still stands between us, preventing us from being united together as one power. And that man shall soon perish,” he pauses, “after he reveals your secrets to me. Then, no one will be able to stop us! No one!”