Aglanthol 1 - The Legend of Khaalindaan - 4. Chapter 4

Qildor found the wizard bowed over a map on his table. Qildor stood in the doorway. The wizard gave no sign that he had noticed Qildor come in. Qildor gazed at the wizard. The old man was dressed in a gray and rather dirty woollen robe. Long gray and oily hair framed a pale and haggard face. ‘Truly a wretch,’ Qildor thought. He shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other.

Finally, the wizard looked up. He gazed at Qildor suspiciously.

“I need your advice,” Qildor said. “I heard of a story. I need to know if it’s true.”

The wizard eyed him, and then he raised an eyebrow in annoyance.

“I’m busy as you can see,” he said in a grumpy voice. “I have no time for – what did you say – stories.”

“This particular story might interest you for only wise men know if it is true or not,” Qildor said in attempt to catch the wizard’s attention.

The wizard looked Qildor up and down.

“Your move is very easy to see through,” he said. He sounded bored.

Qildor was thinking. He gazed at the map on the table. The wizard quickly folded the map and put it aside. Qildor looked up in surprise.

“You are hiding it?” he asked curiously.

The wizard made a dismissive gesture.

“You could have a look at this map, but you would not understand it,” he said.

Qildor was a trained observer. Qildor saw from his body language that the wizard had become nervous. This was in fact interesting and Qildor made a mental note. The map was apparently important to the man. This was precious knowledge. Perhaps he could use it someday. Qildor straightened.

The wizard Neldor was not an untrained observer either. He was aware that Qildor had made a mental note. However, most men were ignorant and soon forgot about everything they had seen. So Neldor did not really worry.

“What kind of story?” he asked finally in order to distract the royal soldier.

“A legend. The legend of Khaalindaan,” Qildor said.

The wizard blinked. Qildor’s eyes narrowed slightly at the sight. He had hit the mark apparently. The wizard looked at him. His face was motionless.

“Just a folk tale,” Neldor said almost casually. “A tale told in the north of Aglanthol. I heard of it, yes. Why do you inquire?”

Qildor closed the door and crossed the room. He stopped near the wooden table and glanced at the map. Neldor just looked at him. The wizard remained calm.

“I happened to spend a few days in the north of the country,” Qildor said in the same casual voice. “A local told me the story.”

“What exactly did he tell you?” Neldor asked with an almost absent-minded look in his eyes.

‘He cannot deceive me,’ Qildor thought. ‘He’s curious.’

“The man told me the wizard Norlorn banned the spirit of the wizard Khaalindaan. Norlorn drove a sword in the ground. When the sword is removed, Khaalindaan’s spirit will be released and he then will take revenge on the Aglanthol,” Qildor said.

“A brief synopsis,” Neldor replied.

“So you apparently know the whole story?” Qildor asked.

They measured each other. They both stood motionless. Qildor turned his eyes away. He had made the first move, which did annoy him. Qildor scowled. The wizard’s lips showed a faint, barely visible smile.

“There’s indeed not much more to say,” Neldor said in a compliant tone of voice. “May I ask you why you are so interested in the story? Why do you think I know more about it?”

Qildor looked between the wizard and the map on the table. Although he could only see parts of the map, Qildor saw that the old parchment was covered with symbols. He looked back at the wizard.

“I was sent north to check what was going on there. A northern tribe repeatedly crossed the frontier and attacked the villages in the north. The king and his counsellors don’t consider it a real threat, a nuisance rather. But since the attacks won’t stop, it was decided to seek out men and form a guard,” Qildor said.

Neldor listened attentively while he studied Qildor’s face.

“Those peasants won’t qualify as a guard,” he said.

“I know this. I was there. I saw the men. I spoke to them. We must send trained warriors to the northern frontier,” Qildor replied.

“What exactly has this to do with the legend of Khaalindaan?” Neldor asked. His tone of voice had become casual again. Qildor looked at the wizard. He was feeling alarmed.

‘You cannot deceive me,’ he thought.

“The local told me he thinks the northern tribe wants to retrieve Norlorn’s sword,” Qildor said. “The power of the Khalindash will rise once Khaalindaan’s spirit is released. The kingdom of Aglanthol will fall.”

“I have never heard this part of the story,” Neldor said. “The local you mentioned has told it to you?”

“Like I said, that’s what he told me. He told me of the rumours that spread in the north,” Qildor said.

“If you believe in the first part of the story, you may well believe in this part, too,” the wizard said.

“I don’t want to believe. I want to know the truth,” Qildor said. He was getting impatient.

“There is no absolute truth,” Neldor said mildly. The wizard gazed at the map on the table before he turned his eyes back to Qildor.

“You have not realised the obvious,” Neldor said, his eyes resting on Qildor’s face.

“The obvious?” Qildor asked. “So tell me then.”

Neldor crossed the room. He stopped in front of a shelf and took another map from it. Neldor unfolded it and placed it on the table.

“Look,” he said. “This is the country of Aglanthol. The map was drawn only recently. It shows the exact borders.”

The wizard pointed at the frontier in the north.

“A wild country adjoins the realm of Aglanthol in the north. Only few have travelled there and less have returned. The Khalindash inhabit this place. The climate is raw and the crops are bad. It’s even worse there than in the northern lands of Aglanthol. The big river Isenbel does not touch the country of the Khalindash. This is why the kings of Aglanthol never really were interested in conquering the country. The inhabitants were few and were not a threat. Until recently, they lived for themselves, not interested in the country of Aglanthol either.”

“That’s what the local told me, more or less,” Qildor said.

Neldor nodded.

“You have not realised the obvious,” he said, giving Qildor a mysterious look. Qildor shrugged. He studied the map again.

“I cannot see what you mean,” he said.

“Not the map,” Neldor said. “Listen to the names I speak aloud: Khaalindaan, Khalindash.”

Qildor’s eyes widened. “Khalin,” he said.

Neldor nodded.

“There was a battle long ago. The Aglanthol and the Khalindash fought. The Aglanthol won. Only a handful of the Khalindash survived, a few wounded soldiers and a few frightened women and children. The Aglanthol had diminished the clan. The Khalindash then called themselves Clan of Bre. The name referred to a revered tribe patriarch. Khaalindaan was the most powerful wizard who ever lived amongst the Clan of Bre. He was born in the land of Bre, but he had been absent for many years. He was not welcomed first when he returned. I think they feared him more than they loved him,” Neldor said.

He looked at Qildor briefly before he pointed at the map.

“The Clan of Bre lived in this area which is now the northern part of the kingdom of Aglanthol. The Aglanthol drove the few survivors out of the area. They retreated to the land which is now called the land of Khalindash,” Neldor continued. “The survivors picked a new name for their clan. They called themselves the Clan of Khalindash which means in our language the avengers of Khaalindaan. The prefix of each word is spoken slightly different. So it’s not entirely incomprehensible that someone who is not familiar with the legend does not see the obvious.”

Qildor nodded.

“If you have never heard of the legend, you cannot see the obvious, Master Neldor, because you do not know of Khaalindaan, the wizard’s name,” he said.

“In fact,” Neldor replied, twirling his beard. “But it seems the legend is still told in the north of Aglanthol. So the local inhabitants would see the obvious, I guess.”

Qildor smiled.

“That’s what I said in the beginning. A local told me the story and he saw the connections. He is guessing that the Khalindash are looking for the secret place with the sword. You just told me the place is in Aglanthol now. This is why they cross the frontier.”

“I did not say this,” Neldor replied. “I said the Clan of Bre lived in this area. I did not talk of the sword.”

“You said the Aglanthol drove the Bre out of their country. The area now belongs to Aglanthol. I must assume that the wizard Khaalindaan was defeated by Norlorn in the land of Bre,” Qildor said.

“You are not wrong,” Neldor replied.

They looked at each other.

“The local told me that the place was a secret and holy place and only the wise men knew how to find it. None of them would ever reveal the secret. Why did you reveal it to me?” Qildor asked.

The wizard gave a dry laugh.

“I have nothing revealed to you that is not common knowledge. Read a scroll about Aglanthol’s history and you will find the story of the Bre. You might even find the wizard Khaalindaan mentioned. Only few know the language of the Khalindash, but those who do know the meaning of the name. I suspect that even the king is informed on this. But the avengers of Khaalindaan are rather smiled at than considered a threat,” Neldor said.

Qildor nodded pensively.

“So you do not know where to find the place with the sword?” he asked the wizard.

Neldor smiled mildly.

“I cannot say,” he said kindly. “I cannot say if I know the place or not. If I knew where to find it, then I would not be allowed to reveal the secret to you. The wise men must not reveal the secret.”

Neldor crossed his arms in front of his chest and smiled at Qildor. Qildor studied the man.

‘Definitely a wretch of a wizard,’ he thought.

“One more thing, Master Neldor,” he said. “Is the story a tall tale or not?”

“If I were you,” Neldor said in a measured voice, “I would believe every single word I heard.”

They exchanged a long look. Qildor gave a nod. Neldor just looked at him. His face showed no emotions.

“I’m busy,” Neldor said finally. He took the map with the strange symbols and started to unfold it.

The wizard gave Qildor a piercing look, when the royal soldier did not move. Qildor straightened, bowed, and then left the wizard’s room quickly. He hurried back to his room.

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