For a year he had lived alone, gathering grain, edible roots and flowers that could be made into soups. And in that year he saw no one. In the day he would work. At night he would dream, dream of flying through the night sky, of soaring above the mountains in the clean light of the stars. Such dreams!
One night as he circled and soared a dark shape had materialised before him. It was a man’s face, black hair waxed close to the skull, high slanted eyes, long braided sideburns that hung far below the chin.
‘Where are you from, boy?’ asked the man.
Ekodas had been frightened. He backed away, but the
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face swelled and a body appeared, long arms reaching out for him. The hands were scaled and taloned, and Ekodas fled. Other dark shapes appeared, like the crows above the village, and they called out to him. Far below he saw the little shelter he had created for himself from the unburnt timber of the barn. Down, down he flew, merging with his body and snapping awake, his heart beating wildly. In the heartbeat between dream and awakening he was sure he had heard triumphant laughter.
Two days later a traveller came by, a slender man with a gentle face. He walked slowly, and when he sat he winced with pain, for there was a stitched wound in his back.
‘Good morning Ekodas,’ he had said. ‘I am Dardalion -and you must leave this place.’
‘Why? It is my home.’
‘I think you know why. Zhu Chao has seen your spirit soaring. He will send men to bring you to him.’
‘Why should I trust you?’
The man smiled and reached out his hand. ‘You have the Talent, the gift of the Source. Touch me. Find, if you can, a spark of evil.’
Ekodas gripped the hand, and in an instant Dardalion’s memories flowed through him, the great Siege of Purdol, the battles with the Brotherhood, the journey with Waylander, the terrible memories of bloodshed and death.
‘I will come with you, sir.’
‘You will not be alone, my boy. There are nine like you so far. There will be more.’
‘How many more?’
‘We will be Thirty.’
The prayer-hymn ended. Ekodas felt the coldness of separation, and the awareness of flesh and sinew, the cold breeze from the open window blowing against his bare legs. He shivered and opened his eyes.
Dardalion stood. Ekodas glanced up at the Abbot’s slender, ascetic face.
‘My brothers,’ said Dardalion, ‘behind you stands the armour of the Thirty. Beside it is the staff of the Source priest. Tonight we will decide where our destiny lies. Do we
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wear the armour and find the Source in a battle to the death against the forces of evil, or do we go our separate ways in peace and harmony? Tonight I speak for the latter. Ekodas will argue the former. At evening’s end you will each stand and make your decisions. You will either take up the staff or the sword. May the Source guide us in our deliberations.’
He was silent then for several moments, and then he began to speak of the binding power of love, and the changes it wrought in the hearts of men. He spoke of the evil of hatred and greed and lust, pointing out, with great force, the folly of believing that swords and lances could eradicate evil. He spoke of rage and the demons that lay waiting within every human soul; demons with whips of fire that could impel a good man to rape and murder. Ekodas listened with growing astonishment. All his own arguments, and more, flowed from the Abbot.
‘Yes love,’ continued Dardalion, ‘can heal the wounds of hatred. Love can eradicate lust and greed. Through love a man of evil can come to repentance and find redemption. For the Source abandons no man.
‘Each of us here has been blessed by the Source. We have Talents. We can read minds, we can soar. Some can heal wounds with a touch. We are gifted. We could walk from here and spread our message of love throughout the realm.
‘Many years ago I found myself in a terrible predicament. The Dark Brotherhood were reforming, seeking out gifted children, drawing them into their evil ways. Those who resisted were sacrificed to the forces of darkness. I decided then that I too would seek out those with talent, training them, building a new Thirty to stand against evil. While doing so I came upon two sisters, children of tragedy. They lived with a widower, a strong man, fearless and deadly. But they were lost in the soulless grey of the Void, hunted by demonic powers and by two of the Brotherhood. I fought them off and saved the spirits of these children, bringing them to their home. And then I returned to my body and I rode for their cabin.