Free Legends of Luternia by Thomas Sabel Page A

pulled on his breath. He began feeling dizzy, pulled toward the emptiness, toward the hot, burning emptiness before him. Gone from his heart were the cries of his father, gone from his soul was the love from Helga, gone from his mind was his devotion to Edgar and Barty. There was only the lure of the emptiness, the nothingness drawing him towards it. He felt his feet begin to shift beneath him but he no longer cared.
    He was about to fall when he was pulled back from the precipice. “That’s no way to reach your goal.” It was the same man with the peaceful mien who knew the secrets of the map. “This is a very dangerous place. The desert’s call seduces, but this isn’t the way to answer it. Come away from the edge.”
    Slowly, Ulrik’s senses returned. “I almost fell. I wanted to fall. I wanted to give it all up; to end it all. I’m tired of it all. I’m tired of the wandering, tired of the looking, tired of wondering who or what will happen next. I’m tired and I wish that I were back . . .” He broke off his sentences because he realized that his words came too freely for the stranger’s ears. Still, there was something about this man that evoked trust. His calm peace, his being at the right place at the right time, it all moved together so that Ulrik wanted to reach out to him.
    “You need to return to your friends. The end hasn’t come yet, and you know it. Remember this: greater strength lies in weakness more than you realize. I believe you can make your way back down now,” said the stranger.
    “Won’t you come with me,” Ulrik pleaded.
    “No. I need to stay here a while longer, “Pax et Bonum.” the stranger said and smiled such that confidence filled the prince for his return to the main part of the city.
    Ulrik began the long descent. Before going too far he turned to see the stranger kneeling where he had been standing, facing the desert.
     
    Edgar had dutifully remained at the inn. Ulrik found him sweeping the back courtyard. “Needed something to do,” Edgar explained. “Missed Uley too much.”
    “You’re finally back,” growled the innkeeper. “Your big friend was moping around here, whimpering and following me around so I stuck a broom in his hands to keep him busy. But look at the mess he’s made of it. I’ll have to do it all over again. Give me that!” he snatched the broom out of Edgar’s hand and attacked the spot where Edgar had attempted to sweep. Edgar looked to the ground, eyes sagging with hurt. The innkeeper muttered something about a big, dumb ox and walked away.
    “Sorry, Uley.”
    “I probably shouldn’t have let you alone for so long. Let’s get out of here.”
    “What about Lord Bartemeus?”
    “After what we’ve been through, call me Barty,” said a familiar voice.
    Turning, they looked at him and exclaimed, “What in the world happened to you this time?” Barty’s right sleeve hung by four threads, flecks of blood decorated his shirt, a bruise spread across his nose extending to each of his eyes. As he entered the courtyard they saw he tried to hide a limp.
    “You weren’t cheating at dice were you?” accused Ulrik.
    “As tempting as it was, no. I wasn’t gambling at all. I met some old friends of ours.”
    “It was the pirates—wasn’t it? What did they want?” said Ulrik
    “They hurt Barty!” Edgar exclaimed.
    “Don’t worry, I’m all right. I may be bruised but I learned much. Let’s get something to drink and I’ll tell you about it.”
    Over a pitcher of punch flavored with the delicate spices that can only be found in Aeolioanopolis, he told them what happened. “I wasn’t sure what I was looking for. I was trusting to luck I would find with we needed, and I did, in spades.” he rubbed his bruises. “We were right. The pirates are looking for you. I think the wizard is scared we’ll get the ionia flower and bring it back.”
    Barty’s statement stunned Ulrik. Didn’t the wizard want him to succeed? Wasn’t it true