The Eye Of Luvelles Part 1

The Eye of Luvelles.

Phillip E. Jones.

CHAPTER 1.

Soul to Soul.

Fellow Soul ...

... I'm pleased to see that you've decided to join me for the second of many stories. When last we visited the Worlds of the Crystal Moon, you were left with some unanswered questions. As we move forward, I offer these words of warning. This story is not for the fainthearted. It requires a mind with an ardent wit-one with the ability to follow the manipulations of the G.o.ds and those involved in the events that inspired the telling of this tale.

Even I have found the revelations, which were proclaimed as fact, to be disturbing. I struggle with the command to deliver these supposed truths-for pieces of this story do not sit well within the depths of my being.

I beg you. Give me your undivided attention, for I hope to find peace while sharing this story with you.

Your friend, and fellow soul inside the Book of Immortality, Phillip E. Jones.

Southern Grayham.

The City of Brandor.

Just After Dawn.

AS THE QUEEN ENTERED the throne room, the king sheathed his blessed blade and then extended a hand to each of his guards to help them off the cold, castle floor. Once they had been dismissed from training, Sam moved to look out the stone-framed window to catch his breath.

The cobblestone streets leading away from the castle were quiet. The smell of greggled hash and eggs could be savored as the aroma escaped the kitchen window below and made its way to the king's nose.

Hearing the footsteps of his queen, Sam smiled as he turned from the window to give Shalee a good morning kiss. "h.e.l.lo, beautiful," he said, reaching out to brush the queen's cheek.

Before Shalee could respond, a familiar voice called out. "My King! My Queen!" Michael entered the throne room as the last of the guards limped past him on their way out. The general's walk was filled with purpose as he moved across the room to take a knee at the base of the steps leading up to the thrones.

Michael was strong, a bold man who held the position of General Absolute in Brandor's army. He wore his best chain armor, and a black cape with gold trim was draped across his back. The Crest of Brandor sat inside a golden shield that had been embroidered at the center of the cape-the scales of justice.

"Speak, Michael," Sam commanded as he walked away from the window to ascend the steps to the throne. The king was large, or at least he was considered large for a human, but small in stature compared to the barbarians of the north. Sam's brown hair and brown eyes complemented a handsome face that rested atop a powerful and well-defined frame.

"The news I bring is good, My King. The army's advance on Bloodvain is promising. The barbarians are surrendering as news of Senchae's demise spreads across their kingdom. There are those who have chosen to fight, but their numbers are scattered. They're disorganized, with no real leadership, and they have proven to be no match for our legions. It's only a matter of moments before all of Southern Grayham lives in service to your crown, Sire."

Sam motioned for a servant to bring him a mug of ale. "Have the two missing pieces of the Crystal Moon been found?"

"No. We continue to search. It's as if Seth's lair is a neverending maze. The serpent had no knowledge that George hid the crystals there." A smile appeared on Michael's face. "There is other news."

"I'm listening."

"In an effort to show his willingness to cooperate, Seth led the army to a shaft filled with coin."

Sam's brow furrowed. "Why would a pit of snakes have a shaft filled with coin? Does their species have a use for it?"

Michael grinned. "I've never thought about that." The general scratched his head to organize his thoughts and then continued. "Seth's race has always sold their poison and various forms of plants that grow in the marsh to Merchant Island. Much of this vegetation has healing properties. It is transported by the Merchant Angels and eventually makes its way to the Priestess of Harvestom. The serpents do this because the taxes from this exchange are split between the kingdoms throughout all of Grayham and this keeps us 'two-legs' from crossing the serpents' borders."

The general chuckled. "It never dawned on me that they may not need coin. But since the coin has been thrown into a shaft for all these seasons, it appears selling their goods is solely for the purpose of being left alone. Seth told Aparis, the legion leader of the Ninth Mark, his kind has been throwing their profits in this pit for more than 6,000 seasons."

"6,000?" Shalee exclaimed in awe. "That sounds like forever."

Michael nodded. "Indeed, My Queen." The general redirected his gaze back onto the king. "I've ordered most of the spoils to be brought to Brandor, but I fear our vaults don't have the means to hold it. I have also commanded that a wagon full of coin be sent to each city, town, and village throughout the kingdom. I hope this is acceptable, Sire."

Pushing his hands through his hair, Sam chuckled. "There's that much?"

Michael just smiled.

Sam took a deep breath and then slowly exhaled over an extended series of moments. "Too much coin is what I consider a pleasant problem to have. I'll order new vaults constructed. How many do you think we'll need?"

Again, Michael smiled. "I would say another 25, but you may want to make them twice as large."

Sam placed his free hand on the back of his throne. "Holy garesh! That pit must be pretty d.a.m.n deep." He took another drink of ale. "If this is the case, our kingdom will never lack for anything. We'll be able to enhance not only Brandor, but the rest of the kingdom as well."

The king motioned for Michael to stand as he moved to look out the window. Sam sighed as he watched the everyday man walk across the meticulously placed stones of the streets. "Their pain will soon be over. Their loved ones will return, and their lives will be able to move forward in peace."

Though Sam's back was to him, Michael nodded. "Your subjects love you, My King ... even those who have suffered loss because of the war."

Sam enjoyed a deep breath of Grayham's crisp, clean air as a gentle breeze found its way through the window and onto his face. "Finally ... some good news." He turned and motioned for Michael to join him at the window. "The coin will be a blessing."

Sam pointed toward the street and continued to address his general. "I was worried there would be further bloodshed before the barbarians surrendered. The families of our men will be happy to know it's only a matter of Peaks before their loved ones return." He reached up and squeezed the back of Michael's neck. "It sounds like there's enough coin to reward each soldier for their service."

"There is enough to reward them again and again for more than a hundred lives lived, My King."

Sam shook his head. "Wow! It's hard to envision that much. I look forward to seeing the mounds myself."

"But what about George?" Shalee interrupted, wanting answers of her own.

As always, the queen was stunning, her fashion impeccable. Her soft-blue gown accented her natural glow, courtesy of her pregnancy. She stood from her throne and pushed her blonde hair behind her ears. After taking Precious into her hand, she tapped the b.u.t.t end of the staff on the floor and looked at the general through a pair of radiant, blue eyes.

"The coin sounds great, General, but for heaven's sake, do you know where George is? Does anyone know where Kepler is? How about Kepler's brothers for that matter? They're enemies to our way of life and to this kingdom. We need to find them so we can stop them from hurting anyone else. This war was their creation in the first place."

Michael's mood changed as his report of the kingdom's newfound fortune was overshadowed by George and Kepler's disappearance. "My Queen, I have a.s.signed 500 men to hunt Kepler and his brothers. I have also a.s.signed another 200 to search for George. It won't be long before their flesh meets the chains of our dungeon."

Shalee moved next to Sam and took hold of his arm. "Michael, I want the kingdom to be at peace before the baby is born." She touched her belly. "I don't want any child of mine being born into a world with that much hate existing in it. Two hundred men won't be enough to fight against George's power."

"I understand. I'll double their numbers."

"No," Shalee demanded. "You will triple them."

Michael turned to Sam. "Are those your orders, Sire?"

Sam nodded. "They are." The king motioned for the servants and the remaining guards to clear the room. Once they were alone, he continued. "Michael, let's talk as friends for a moment."

"What's on your mind, Sam?"

"You know that I've commanded the members of the Senate to come to Brandor. I want to discuss how I should proceed before giving further orders. I've called the Senate to Brandor because we need the members of our government to travel to the Barbarian Kingdom and spread word that we wish to live in peace with them. Each selected senator will need to take a number of offerings with them for each of the barbarian n.o.bles. Their royal families are to remain esteemed."

Michael's face showed his disdain. "You want us to treat those heathens as royalty? Sam, this is outrageous. Senchae would not have done the same for our n.o.bles."

"Exactly. That's why it's important for our actions to show otherwise. I want all barbarians to know that we respect their people. I want to meet their n.o.bles to determine who amongst them would be the best choices to offer positions as new members of the Senate. I plan to select 11 to replace those lost during the quake, and I'll give each their own seat on the Court of Brandor. It's more important now than ever to ensure the barbarian people are represented within a unified Southern Grayham."

Michael stood in silence. Shalee could see the irritation on his face. "What's got you boggled, Michael? Speak your mind."

"I don't like the thought of barbarians polluting our Senate. The senators will have much to say about this. Your ideas won't be welcomed."

The king rubbed the scruff on his chin. "'Pollute' is a harsh word for people we don't understand. Let me ask you something, Michael. If you were barbarian, and you hated the people of the south, not to mention the fact that you were taught to hate them since childhood, wouldn't you loathe Brandor further if you were left without a voice when it came to the day-to-day functions of a government that had been crammed down your throat? Think about it. How would you feel?"

After spending a while pondering his king's opinion, Michael responded. "Your logic makes sense. I suppose the alternative would be a lawless nation. I would rather deal with a barbarian in the Senate than on the battlefield."

The king grinned. "Considering the politics of the Senate, they can be just as ruthless as barbarian warriors."

Michael nodded. "Agreed. But it will take many moments for my mind to adjust. It will take many more moments for the men of the army to understand, but they trust your judgment. From the moment you became king, you have shown them your strength. The Senate, however, won't accept the change."

"Don't worry about the Senate," Shalee responded. "When Sam reminds them that it was the G.o.ds' decision for us to come into this world to create a peaceful empire, they'll see things our way."

Michael shook his head. "No ... they won't, Shalee. You're wrong."

The queen frowned. "No, you're wrong, Michael. They'll have no choice but to comply. We're still at war, and until Sam declares otherwise, he can do as he pleases. The senators will just have to deal with it."

Michael patted Sam on the shoulder. "I hope you handle this matter with far greater tact than our queen has just suggested."

Sam laughed and then pulled Shalee close. "Our queen is spirited, is she not? I'm sure I'll figure something out before I address the Senate."

Michael sighed. "I often forget you have such powerful friends backing your positions. Not many men converse with the G.o.ds as you do." The general bowed to his queen. "I don't think I'll ever understand how the mind of a woman from your old Earth works. I often find myself perplexed by your candor."

Shalee moved to Michael and gave the general a hug and then followed the embrace with a quick wink. "There's no forgiveness necessary. Women are pretty much the same here as they were there. And as all good women should, we keep you guessing as to whether or not you'll ever figure us out."

Michael gave a half-hearted smile. Since he did not know how to respond, he changed the direction of the conversation. "As for me, My King, you have my full support. I believe your proposal will find favor in the hearts of the barbarians once they understand your intent is to provide them with a voice."

"Let's hope you're right, General." Sam moved up the steps and took a seat on his throne. "Please check to ensure that all senators have received word to make their way to Brandor. I want all the voices representing each mark to be present when I address the Senate. Oh! And let me know when you find George and Kepler. I also want to know when the new roof for the Senate hall is complete."

Michael bowed. "Yes, My King."

3 Peaks Later.

Griffin Falls.

With Late Bailem approaching, Sam and Shalee were sitting at a small, wooden table near the edge of the griffin's platform that overlooked Southern Grayham. The meal before them was cooked hen, and the royal chef was filling their mugs with wine.

Sam watched a smile appear on his queen's face as their meal was uncovered. "I'm glad you like it. Your ability to teleport has its uses. I gave the men the scroll I asked you for so they could teleport ahead and prepare this for us."

"This is delightful. What made you decide to do this?"

The king unfolded his napkin and placed it on his lap. "We haven't had many moments to ourselves since we returned to Brandor. I want you to understand how much I love you." Sam motioned for Shalee to look at the area surrounding them. "I couldn't think of any place more romantic."

"Well, aren't you a peach? This was a lovely idea. You've outdone yourself."

Shalee stood from her chair and moved to her king as she held his eyes with her gaze. She leaned over. The pa.s.sion she felt could be seen as she prepared to thank him. The men standing guard at the edges of the platform turned their backs, but the royal chef smiled and moved to a better position from which to enjoy the romance that filled their moments.

The queen's lips were soft and tasted like melon, her tongue accenting the mood. Sam melted. He forgot everything around him as she gently bit his bottom lip. When Shalee moved back, she once again held his eyes with hers until she settled into her seat.

The chef could not contain his excitement. "Well done, My Queen!" he shouted. "Bravo! It's nice to know my king and his stunning bride share a love so divine."

Shalee blushed.

Sam gave the chef a look. "Thomas, don't you have something better to do with your moments?"

"My apologies, Sire. I shall fetch more wine."

As Sam watched Thomas move to the far side of the platform, he marveled at the gigantic doors of the temple in the distance. They sat beyond the pools that bubbled to the surface across the plateau. He could remember how he felt the first moment he saw their ma.s.sive hinges. Each door was ma.s.sive and arched toward each other at the top. He remembered thinking how heavy they must be. At almost two meters thick, he had imagined the sound they would make if one of them was to slam into the wall.

Shalee lifted her mug from the table and sauntered to the railing overlooking the falls that were fed by the springs. The water fell more than 7,000 feet to the land below. The view across the steppe was breathtaking. Many beautiful flowers as well as other vegetation she had grown accustomed to seeing since their arrival on Grayham, bloomed around the pools. The scene was glorious and set the mood for an evening of romance with her regal husband.

After dinner, Sam had his men clear the table and teleport back to Brandor. Once they were gone, Sam moved to the edge of the platform and rang a large bell. "I have a surprise for you. I know you don't remember our first ride with Soresym since you were asleep. You remember ... the Peak you threw your fit?"

"I remember my mood fit the moment," Shalee defended. "However, I do regret missing the experience of that first flight."

"Well ... now you'll have the chance to make up for it."

Shalee smiled and pushed up against him. "Just take a look at you, Sam Goodrich. Who would have ever guessed that you had a romantic bone inside that body of yours?"

Sam remembered Shalee's exact words when she found out that they would need to ride the griffin to get to Brandor. The queen had scolded Mosley, "If you think I'm gonna ride some giant whatever it is, you got another think coming. I'm not about to get on some creepy, flying thing. I don't know how to ride stuff like that. Do they bite? Goodness-gracious, I bet they bite. Oh my gosh, do they smell?"

Mosley had become sick of Shalee's ranting. The night terror wolf breathed on her face, and her body slumped over onto the platform. He said, "She will be asleep for a while. I'm sure she'll be far more pleasant after she's had the moments to adjust. Are all the women from your Earth like her?"

Sam had responded by saying, "Only the ones worth keeping. I have to admit, I find her attractive. I like her sa.s.siness. She'll grow on you, Mosley. She's just stressed right now, that's all. But I am glad you knocked her out." The king remembered smiling. The last thing he had said to try to convince the wolf was, "Just trust me on this, Mosley, you'll grow to like her. I'm sure of it."

"I hope you're right. I find her annoying ... like a tick on my tail."

He grinned at the pleasant feeling of the memory and pulled Shalee close. He was kissing her when Soresym crested the ledge of the cliff. The king reacted. He grabbed the railing surrounding the platform as the ma.s.sive wings of the griffin stirred the evening air. As Soresym's majestic form lowered to the landing area, Shalee could not contain her excitement. She ran to the griffin and stroked his feather-covered neck.

"Well, aren't you a sight for sore eyes. It's good to see you, Soresym. I think of you often."

"And, I you, young one."

The Griffin Lord, Soresym "Thank you for this, Soresym," Sam said as he approached the griffin. "I cannot express how much I appreciate you."

"You're welcome, King of Brandor." The griffin lowered to the platform. "Please, climb up."

Sam lifted Shalee onto the griffin's back and then jumped up to take a seat. He tied his queen in with the heavy leather straps that were attached to the padded saddle, and then he pulled her to him. The beast walked to the edge of the platform with his head held high and wings spread. Shalee lifted her arms into the air and screamed as the griffin folded his wings and jumped from the ledge.