Tears of the Sun

The back of the cabinet had been made of sections of a very hard, dark wood. Carved into this wood was a series of images which Foxblood's father had recognised as fighting stances which demonstrated the proper use of the sword. His father had carefully removed the sword and the wooden blocks from the cabinet and hidden them in his cart under the pieces of iron that he had found. He knew that should news of this find reach the cities, warriors and nobles from far and wide would attempt to buy or take it from him. He had already decided to gift this unique sword to his son and so it had to remain a secret for many years to come.

Foxblood stared at the sword, remembering the day that his father had presented it to him as a symbol that he had reached manhood and the long months of training that followed as he learned how to use it. With a sigh he put the sword to one side and continued unpacking. A jerkin of padded brown leather and the pieces of armour followed. Horses were rare and expensive; too expensive and too vulnerable to theft to be practical for a mercenary warrior. Anyway, it was impractical to fight from horseback and only a scout needed the ability to travel faster than the main host of an army. This dependence on one's own legs as the main means of transport meant that heavy rigid armour was too much of a burden. Only the great lords and generals who had chariots or palanquins to move them around could afford the luxury of lobster shells. Foxblood's armour consisted of a mail shirt with curved overlapping shoulder plates, vambraces and greaves. However, unlike the bronze or brass used for normal armour, this armour was made from the meteoric metals that his father had gathered piece by tiny piece from the mountains. It was as hard as iron but was not brittle, did not rust and was much lighter than its equivalent in bronze or iron. Foxblood had carefully painted and stained the metal to hide its silvery colour which would once again marked it as a treasure to be stolen or stripped from his dead body.

Just as Foxblood had finished laying out his gear, Janna came into the room. Her face was a picture of determination. 'I am going with you,' she declared.

Foxblood shook his head. 'I will announce our marriage to the village elders as is the custom; but you know that in the great cities no respectable woman would wander the countryside as I must or be found unescorted in the company of so many men. You would be branded a whore and rejected by all.'

'I know that. But you are my man and I will not leave your side,' she replied stubbornly. 'I have talked to the Wise Woman and she has reminded me that there is one kind of woman who could be at your side always.'

Foxblood frowned at this and then his eyes widened in shock as he realised the import of her words. 'No!' he exclaimed in horror.

'Yes' said Janna. 'A body slave is bound to follow her master even unto death. Is that not the perfect solution?'

'Never!'

'Yes.'

The argument went on for the rest of the day and only ended when Janna swore that she would kill herself rather than be left behind.

Once he had accepted the fact that Janna would be constantly at his side, Foxblood set about training her. He gave her one of his childhood swords which was light enough for her to handle and fired up the forge for one last job. By melting down the other swords and various tools, he scavenged enough of the special metal to fashion a light mail vest and a metal core for a wooden staff made of short sections of hollowed out hardwood which were fitted over the slim metal shaft and glued into place. As a slave Janna could carry the staff without attracting attention. Since no slave could possess a weapon, her sword and armour would have to be kept in their luggage whenever they neared a city or town.

Foxblood drilled Janna mercilessly in the use of the staff, sword and shield. He was determined that since she was to follow him into danger, she would be as ready to face it as he could make her. At the same time it gave him a chance to practise his skills with those weapons himself.

Finally, they were ready. Foxblood made his farewells to the villagers who gaped in shock as Janna appeared for the first time wearing the red loincloth of a bodyslave.

Chapter Six.

Feeling much refreshed, the couple climbed out of the tub, stepping gingerly in the slippery puddles of water that were the result of their horseplay in the bath. Dressing hurriedly, Foxblood lifted the bar and opened the door. Exiting the room the two of them walked back down to the end of the corridor, where a Guardsman stood watch. As promised, the guard directed them to the Place of Meeting. They passed large halls, open courtyards, many closed doors and a door that their noses told them led to a kitchen. Finally, they neared a set of black marble doors that were guarded by a trio of Guardsmen carrying ceremonial axes. Foxblood identified himself to one of the guards.

'Wait here. When you enter you shall address our master as First Lord. Do not ask his name nor utter it should you hear it from another,' said the Guardsman. He turned and signalled to the other two men who opened the doors just wide enough for their fellow to enter the room beyond. After a moment, the first Guardsman returned and signed for Foxblood to follow. Foxblood complied, followed silently by Janna.

As Foxblood entered the large, high ceilinged hall, he noted that it held only two occupants at the moment. One was a short middle aged man with a slightly harried look. From the rich embroidery and gold thread woven into the fabric of his robe, Foxblood guessed that this man was the First Lord. The other person was a woman, who wore a plain white dress. Around her neck she wore a silver chain on which was hung a small leather pouch. The fact that a woman was allowed to attend such a meeting was surprising, given the relatively low status enjoyed by women in most of the cities. She had an air of calm and authority which was at odds with her simple attire. However, what really drew Foxblood's attention was the woman's appearance. Tall, fair of skin and red haired, it was obvious that she was of similar stock as Janna.

Foxblood bowed to the man, and after a moment's hesitation, to the woman. He decided that the risk of making a fool of himself by bowing to some sort of servant was preferable to the risk of offending someone who might be one of his new employers. Janna merely kept her eyes lowered and followed his lead.

The man studied Foxblood for a moment, his eyes lingering on Foxblood's sword. His lips formed a smile that did not quite reach his eyes. 'Welcome Warrior Foxblood. It is good that you have arrived at last. We have need of the services of one such as you.'

Foxblood merely bowed again, content to allow the man to carry the conversation.

'I am the First Lord of this city. My companion is Mirree' said the man, nodding in the direction of the woman. He spoke her name as if it were a title.

Mirree bowed gracefully, first towards Foxblood and then amazingly, towards Janna.

Startled, Janna dropped to her knees. In some cities, slaves who embarrassed their betters often had unfortunate and fatal 'accidents'.

Mirree smiled and said 'There is no need for pretence in this chamber, little one. Rise and join us'. She pointed to the backless marble chairs that formed a circle in the middle of the room.

Foxblood and Janna's eyes met for a moment. Foxblood nodded his agreement and the four of them seated themselves.

'To business then,' said the First Lord. 'I have a job for you. I wish you to act as Mirree's bodyguard and advisor in military affairs. She is soon to undertake an important mission on behalf of the City which may possibly take her to wild and dangerous places. Carry out your duties well and you will be amply rewarded.'

Foxblood thanked the First Lord then asked, 'High Kritias is a large and powerful City, with many brave and skilled warriors. May I ask why you did not choose an escort from amongst their number instead of seeking out a mercenary such as myself?'

'Firstly, none of our Guardsmen are as familiar with the conditions and languages of the lands through which you will be required to pass, nor have they your experience with the many dangers of such a journey. Second, neither Mirree nor yourself are known as citizens of High Kritias. I would avoid the chance of starting a war with another state,' explained the First Lord.

'I am a simple warrior my Lord, not a spy. I fear that I may lack the skills that you desire,' said Foxblood doubtfully.

The First Lord made as if to reply, but Mirree interrupted him. 'My Lord, I believe that this warrior needs to know the truth if he is to aid me in my task,' she said.

The First Lord stared at Mirree for a long moment, as if weighing the problem in his mind. Finally he nodded stiffly. 'So be it. But mark me well Foxblood. What I am about to tell you must remain a secret. Should I discover that you have betrayed us in this I will see to your death personally'

'You have my oath. On my honour I shall not betray your confidences' said Foxblood solemnly.

'Very well,' replied the First Lord. He closed his eyes for a moment, gathering his thoughts. 'What do you know about Atlantis?' he asked, staring at Foxblood's face intently.

'I know that it no longer exists,' replied Foxblood, puzzled at this sudden change in subject. He noticed the First Lord's eyes flicker towards the handle of his sword that jutted out over his right shoulder. 'My father believed that my sword was made in Atlantis, although I have no way of discovering the truth of this.'

'May I see it?' asked Mirree.

Foxblood nodded and drew his blade, handing it carefully to Mirree. The moment that the sword touched her fingers Mirree stiffened, uttering a sharp gasp that was almost a sob. She nodded her head. 'Your father was correct. This is of Atlantean origin,' she said.

'Mirree is of Atlantean blood. She is descended from one of the Priestess of Atlantis that were on the mainland when the island was destroyed,' explained the First Lord. 'There are many legends that tell of the magical powers, even sorcery and witchcraft that were supposedly practised by the Atlanteans.'

'None of this is true,' said Mirree. 'All of the so called magic of Atlantis was based on these,' she said, undoing the bindings of the leather pouch that hung from her neck. She pulled the leather wrappings away to reveal a small crystal orb that was attached to her necklace by a circular metal band.

Foxblood examined the glittering crystal curiously. It did not seem to be anything more than a beautifully cut piece of golden tinted crystal. 'What is it?'

'They are called Tears of the Sun. They were discovered by the alchemists of Atlantis hundreds of years ago. They realised that the human mind can generate enormous power under certain circumstances' said Mirree.

'Circumstances?'

'Strong emotions or excitement. You are a warrior. Have you never experienced the feeling during combat, that time itself slowed down and a rush of strength and speed filled your sinews?' asked Mirree.

Foxblood nodded thoughtfully. 'A few times. In the midst of battle a delirium can fill your mind and body. Some of the northern barbarian tribes have learned the ability to go into this state at will, but at the cost of losing all judgement and cunning. They call it Berzark or something similar'

'This crystal gathers and magnifies that power. Those with the right skills and training can make use of the Tears to perform what appear to be miracles. The main gates of High Kritias were created through the use of such power,' said Mirree, holding up the crystal.

'Marvelous indeed,' said Foxblood. 'Why is it then that no one has ever heard of such wonders?'

Mirree sighed. 'There are certain risks and difficulties involved in the use of the Tears. Firstly, no man can safely use them. You spoke of the Berserkers of the north. That is the reason that men cannot use the Tears. It is the nature of men to channel strong emotions into aggression. When magnified by the Tears, this aggression can destroy the mightiest fortress or the greatest army.'

'Then it is the perfect weapon!' exclaimed Foxblood.

Mirree shook her head sadly. 'Imagine your northern Berserker. He charges into battle in a blind fury, wildly hacking the enemy. When such a man wields a sword his fury is limited to the reach of his arms. If such a man wielded a Tear instead, destruction would rain down upon everything around him, friend and foe alike. It is the user's mind that controls the power of the Tears. But a Berserker's mind is filled with naught but blind destruction.'

Foxblood nodded his understanding. 'How then does a woman control the power of the Tears?' he asked.

There was an uncomfortable silence and Foxblood wondered if he had asked something that he should not have. Finally, Mirree spoke. 'The Alchemists and philosophers pondered this question for a long time Foxblood. Think of the problems. Emotions generated by lust, sexual pleasure, hunger, infatuation and the like all tend to cloud the mind. More importantly, they cannot be summoned up at will and under all circumstances, unlike the rage of the Berserker. A tool that cannot be used as needed is useless. They finally realised that there was only one other source of unfailing stimulation that met all of their requirements.'

Foxblood's face blanched in horror and disgust. 'Pain,' he spat. 'They used pain.'

'Yes Warrior, they, we, used pain. It can be mild or harsh depending on the amount of power needed and it can be sustained for fairly long periods of time. It also has the additional benefit that very few of the women selected to use the Tears would employ the power lightly.'

'But what about the injuries?'

Mirree laughed. 'Do I look like a cripple to you? The power of the Tears can heal as well as kill. We always reserve a little of the power to heal ourselves at the end of a session. The mages of Atlantis thought of everything. Over the years, they even bred a special trait into the bloodline of the Guardians of the Tears like myself. Can you guess what it is?' Mirree asked, glancing at Janna who sat silently at Foxblood's side.

Mirree's glance seemed to trigger the same chain of thought in Foxblood and Janna, and they turned to look at each other.

'The Guardians naturally desire to experience pain,' guessed Foxblood. His mind was a whirling cloud of thoughts and concepts. Janna's mysterious origins, her unusual appearance and her desire to feel physical pain all pointed to one thing.

Mirree clapped her hands in congratulation. 'You are correct on both points. Yes, Guardians are bred to accept, even desire pain under the right circumstances, although we do not find pleasure in the pain itself as some people do. And yes, your companion is of my bloodline.'

Janna gasped at this revelation.

Mirree reached out and touched Janna's hand. 'We will talk of this later my dear, in private. But now we must continue with the reason that we have asked the two of you to come here.' She nodded at the First Lord.

'Travelers and merchants coming from the east have brought us disturbing tales of a great wizard. His wrath is said to be terrible, killing hundreds with a wave of his hand and turning crop lands to barren dust in seconds. There are always such tales and we would not have paid them any heed save for the fact that King Lorwig of Hetia, a city state also to the east, seems to have allied himself with this so-called wizard. He has such faith in this wizard's powers that he appears ready to start a war of conquest against several states simultaneously. He is gathering an army right now and his ambassadors have visited each of his neighbouring states, demanding their total submission on pain of destruction,' said the First Lord, the concern in his voice clear to all in the room.

Mirree continued the tale. 'I have spoken to witnesses who claim to have actually seen this wizard in action and it is my belief that he has found or stolen a Tear and has discovered its power. If this is true, he poses a terrible threat to everyone and not just King Lorwig's enemies. He will soon become an uncontrolled engine of destruction, killing or smashing everything around him.'

'Is there any protection from the power of the Tears?' asked Foxblood.

'Aside from another Tear, there only two restrictions to the power. The user's stamina, and the fact that the user must see the thing which he or she seeks to affect. This was why Atlantis was unable to deflect the falling star while it was still safely in the Heavens,' answered Mirree.

The First Lord spoke again. 'High Kritias was originally a trade colony of Atlantis, and though the Guardians often visited the city to give the people the benefit of their powers, none of the secrets of the making of the Tears or the special metals such as those used in your sword were ever allowed off the island of Atlantis. When Atlantis disappeared, the Guardians who happened to be in the city decided to find a home elsewhere. If they had stayed, word of their presence would have spread, making the conquest of High Kritias the dream of every ambitious warlord or prince in the world. Without the power of Atlantis to protect us, we would have faced destruction. While the Guardians have great powers, they are not immune to assassination or illness. The surviving Guardians had no desire to spend the rest of their days engaged in constant warfare.'

'I intend to travel to the east and seek out this "wizard". If he truly bears a Tear of the Sun, I must find a way to take it from him. You, Foxblood shall serve as my guide and protector. It is likely that the "wizard" will have his own guards watching over him. I can ward us against his power, but you will have to deal with most of the fighting. Alone, neither of us would have a chance. Together, we may be able to save the world from a madman' said Mirree, her eyes blazing with determination.

'Naturally you will be appropriately rewarded, both in gold and my gratitude," the First Lord said earnestly.

Foxblood looked at Janna, who nodded. 'So be it,' he said, sealing the compact.

Chapter Seven.

Later that day, Janna found herself in private conversation with Mirree. Janna's emotions were so mixed that she was unsure whether to laugh or to cry. Mirree spoke at length of her own childhood and about the strange urges and feelings that her heritage forced on her. As she listened to Mirree's story Janna was amazed at the similarities it bore to her own life. Yet she still found it hard to believe the she was an Atlantean.

Mirree smiled gently and said 'You still doubt.' She held up her hand to silence Janna's embarrassed denials. 'To believe too easily is as foolish as to not believe at all.' Raising her voice she called out 'Mira! Bring me the box.'

The door at the rear of the room opened and a slim young woman stepped out, bearing a small black box in her hands. She too had red hair and fair features that Janna now associated with Atlantis.

'This is my companion Mira' said Mirree, smiling fondly at the newcomer. 'As you can see, Mira is not a Guardian. Though she is of the blood, she lacks the mental strength that I detect in you. It is the ability to discipline one's thoughts that allows us to safely control the forces generated by the Tears.' Nodding at the box she said to Mira 'Let us see if we can overcome our new friend's doubts.' Turning back to Janna she unveiled once more the spherical pendant that hung between her breasts. Cupping it in her palms, she stared into the depths of the small globe. After a moment, a tiny roseate glow began to form around the crystal ball and Janna heard a very soft humming, which she realised also emanated from the crystal. Mira moved beside Janna and opened the box that she carried. Inside it was a twin to the crystal Tear in Mirree's hands.