Chronicles Of Tonath Collection: The Complete Series

Excerpt from Chronicles Of Tonath Collection

The Day of Burning

The Teacher staggered into the small cave overlooking the darkened prairie. The northwest skyline was a sea of orange-red flames dancing against a blackened sky

. He had fled from the fire raging at the Western Star Shift Institute. He turned to the north and saw the red and yellow glow emanating from the distant black resin wells and in the sky the Star Path of the Way to the Stars was gone. Tears flowed down his face to mingle with the sweat that poured down his face and chest.

His hands were bleeding from scraping the rocks, his cassock was tattered from his headlong flight, and his black skull cap lost somewhere along the trail. His breath came in ragged pants and he felt as though his chest was being crushed. It has to be here was the thought that drove him higher into the deepening, dark greening night towards the cave the old Teacher had told him about.

Upon reaching the opening, he sank to his knees and offered a prayer for the keeping of the Way. Then he removed the burden from his back and stood, his eyes trying to see in the darkness. Slowly he circled the inside of the cave and knocked his shins against the metal chest. He knelt beside it and put his head down on the chest to rest. His breath was improving in here where the green air had not completely penetrated. He opened the chest True Man had left. There was an old blanket, a metal cup, a pot, and a pan. No chickolet tea remained. A shame, thought the Teacher, a last cup would have been a fitting thank you to the man who had once saved Tonath.

He removed the wrapping from the outside of his bundle and put the contents into the chest. With luck, it would remain here until the next Teacher found it. If there is a new Teacher, the thought returned to haunt him. He had been remiss in not naming a replacement and writing out his predictions, but he had never believed he should have been The Teacher. When the old Teacher died of a sudden heart attack, the Brotherhood had elected him simply because he was so complacent. He knew it. He had no special talent and now the Day of Burning was upon Tonath. The Star Shift and the one thousand days of burning so long predicted had arrived. He closed the metal lid and laid the wrap over the chest. The silver embroidery that outlined the Way to the Stars was lost in the gloom.

The Teacher tried to stand and found he had not the strength. His breath was again the labored, ragged pants of green air. He crawled to the opening. He would open his arms to the Pathway of the Way to the Stars. At the opening, he lay prone with his arms outstretched and tried to chant, but his throat closed and he grabbed at it, trying, trying to pull away this force making his lungs compress.

At first nothing disturbed the bulk lying at the entrance. Then hunger drove the insects to inspect this possible food treasure. Some were able to dine, others were left hungry.

By the tenth day a green-brown, four-legged rodent was tearing at the clothes with his sharp teeth and taking clumps of rotted flesh in his mouth before scurrying back to his newly made hole and emerge again the next day to feast.

By the light of a green moon, a larger quadruped snuffled at the figure. The animal was consumed with doubt by the smell. It backed away and continued towards the mountains.

Time, wind, rodents and insects had their way and the bones turned to dust.

Fort Outpost

Brother Amos opened the door to the tavern. Like the town, it was small and mean, but a fire and food were inside. The place was crowded and a smoky haze filled the room. Since he was a Seeker, appropriately dressed in the grey robe with a brown, rope belt, the townspeople might question him, but they would do him no harm. He pushed back the cowl and revealed a round face with a black stubble. The Brothers were clean shaven, but he had had no spare water for the last week.

There were people at every table. Was this a celebration of some kind? Or were the townsmen so prosperous? He had discovered the farther westward he went the dialects and customs changed, the days were counted differently, and the economy and living conditions more primitive. Men in rough, homespun clothing looked at him. Women in dresses cut far too low and hemmed far too high, showed no interest. A Seeker bearing the staff would not pay for extra drinks or for their bodies. One youngish woman at a far corner beckoned him.

“Brother, there is an extra chair here. Come and rest.”

“I thank you for your invitation.” He settled himself into the chair. “I am in need of food more than rest, however. Do they have any good sausages to go with their ale?”

Her eyes were a startling green color and her homespun butternut dress a respectable height over her bosom. Her tanned arms were bare and her brown hair was tied back. She looked to be about twenty, but it was difficult to tell. A small pinkish mouth opened to show small, well-formed teeth.

“They have both and they are filling.”

Brother Amos smiled at the girl and her male companion. The man was a masculine, taller version of the woman except his eyes were almost black in color. He looked to be a few years over twenty as wrinkles had started at the corners of his brown eyes set in an equally browned skin. He sported a fine mustache of matching dark brown hair.

Brother Amos dismissed the eastern tales of Halflings from the once Green World that existed before the Burning becoming mixed with the western Tonath populace. It was said that they could be recognized by their strange eye colors.

The man leaned forward and extended his hand. “I'm George Strauss and this is my sister, Venta.” In a lower tone he added, “Don't let them charge you more than two geldens for two sausages and ale.” Then he leaned back as the server approached.

“What'll you have?” Her voice was gruff and deep to match her height and girth.

“Two sausages, a loaf of dark bread, and a tankard of ale.”

She whirled away and delivered two tankards to the table next to them, picked up the empties, and headed for the bar area.

“The loaf will cost you another gelden.” George sounded a bit in awe. “I thought the Seekers relied on charity, if so you have picked the wrong table.”

Brother Amos smiled. “The last town I visited, a man was most charitable. I've traveled long and I thought I would share the loaf with two people who were kind enough to share their table. My name is Amos.”

“From where do you hail?

“Originally, the seacoasts of the Mechham's eastern section, then at their capital, Anoth, to study at the Silver Star Institute, but these last few years I have traveled over the eastern half of our habitable continent. I've yet to gain the courage to take a sea voyage to the other continents although they say the towns and cities of Partha and Landings are quite civilized.”

The server returned, her tray laden with his order and more tankards. Her brow was sweaty and the dark hair wet against her full, flushed cheeks. Brother Amos hurriedly laid the three geldens on the table before being asked. Her hand swooped out for them, deposited the money into the depths of her leather apron, grunted, and left.