Whispers Of Peace And War

18

18

They tied up the Gaeradine warrior and, as he began to regain consciousness, Agarang crouched before him, talking in a quiet, calm voice. The warrior struggled against his bonds and spat towards Agarang. Everyone else stood apart from the two Gaeradine, the Abbot glaring towards them. Kaninzir, however, studied the Riven Blooms, sniffing them several times.

"We should kill him. Torture him for information and then kill him." Llwnthrn gripped her ochre robes, now dirty and soiled from several days of wear. "We should kill them both."

"When did you become so bloodthirsty, Llwnthrn." The old priest sniffed the Riven Blooms again and then picked a petal from one flower, tasting it and grimacing. "When everyone has finished killing each other, what happens then?"

"Then we take back our island. All of our island!" The Abbot turned her scowl towards Kaninzir. "The Patrons will aid us in our fight. With their grace, we will liberate the Esservold and send these monsters back to the sea. Floating home."

Mythrd could feel an anger surging within him as he listened to the Abbot's words. He had seen enough death, over the past few days, to last a lifetime and the Abbot called for more. According to the monolith, the Iibarish folk that lived upon the island were all once the invaders. He knew, from folk tales, that they were not the first to call Iibar home, yet Llwnthrn acted as though they had sole rights to the island.

It felt wrong to him, now. It felt too easy to think of the Gaeradine as only enemies, even though that feeling twisted in his gut against everything he had heard his entire life. The Gaeradine were starving. Within the bounds of the other Volds of Iibar, they had plenty. The Suvold, especially, held sprawling fields of grains and livestock. The breadbasket of Iibar. Gaavwessen, once known as Wesservold, now named after the Gaavjolt invaders that had integrated with the Iibarish almost a century ago, grew their own food enough to feed everyone. Even the Midvold, with its spine of mountains, had enough livestock and hunting so that no-one went hungry.

The Gaeradine suffered a famine. It seemed, to Mythrd, that offering to share their food, to help the Gaeradine, would stave off the war that they sought. He looked towards Gythryn, hoping she would say what he feared to, but she sat, cleaning the blood from her new sword, seeming happy of the deaths she had caused with it.

"Its not 'our' island, though, is it?" He blurted out the words, catching Kaninzir and the Abbot by surprise. "We ... our ancestors invaded and tried to take Iibar. Mine are from Tandar. I know, because father has heirlooms from there. The island has always had invaders and they've always come to peace. Becoming one people. The monoliths ..."

"The monoliths! The monoliths lie! Just like the Guardians." The Abbot moved towards Mythrd, straightening her back and looming above him. "Your mind has become poisoned. When we return to Yrstl, you can serve penance in the Monastery before joining the army. We'll knock these foolish lies from your head."

"No!" He couldn't look the Abbot eye-to-eye, but he glared up at her. "I'm not joining the army! I'm not going to become a killer! I'm ... I'm going to become a Steward. For the Guardians."

The Abbot raised her hand, palm flattened, ready to strike down towards Mythrd, but he set his jaw. If she wanted to hit him, she could. It wouldn't change his thoughts. It wouldn't change his decision. He had seen many things in the past few days, some wondrous, some brutal and sickening, but it had all helped to make this decision rise to the surface of his mind.

Even up to an hour before, he had stuttered and dithered about his feelings. Towards the Patrons. Towards the Guardians. Seeing those Gaeradine dying had hardened his heart. The Guardians did not preach for peace, only saying that peace was inevitable. The Patrons seemed disinterested in peace. The Abbot proved that with her words. Calling for even more death when peace could become reached, if only people would talk.