The Way of Edan (The Edan Trilogy, #1)

by Philip Chase

“When the Kingdom of the Eternal takes hold over Eormenlond, only those who follow Edan, only the righteous, will dwell with Him in bliss! All others, believers in false gods and worshippers of demons, will gnash their teeth and wail in torment. Abandon your false gods, and embrace the truth. The time is nigh! So says the Supreme Priest Bledla, Edan’s chosen.”

“We must all play the part Edan has ordained for us, for a far greater outcome than our individual lives is at stake.”

“In battle, fight together with your companions in arms. Learn to fight together, or you’ll not live long.”

“You’re doing well enough, and you’ll do better, Day. Not everyone has a father like yours. It’s not always easy, trying to live up to him, but you’ll be thankful for it in the end. He’ll teach you much and more. You only need to be ready to take it all in here.”

“When the time’s right, you’ll stop thinking about it. Thinking just gets in the way. It’ll be part of you. You’ll see.”

Other than Urd and the local priest of the Way, who was from Torrlond, Dayraven was the only one near Kinsford who could read.

The old tales take us to faraway times and places, but they’re also where we come from. They tell us how we got here.

Healing was the one thing that always gave her happiness, but, in accordance with her training, she kept such emotions in check. She reminded herself that, in the days ahead, she would likely need to use the gift for altogether different purposes.

“Life for life. Blood for blood. The beasts must pay for slaying Oslaf’s son.”

A senseless event in a senseless world. Fate was mysterious and mighty, and even the gods submitted to it. At least folk thought the old gods did.

This was no common raven. In the stories the folk of the Mark told, ravens played the role of tricksters and messengers, though their messages most often dealt with death. It was said they were wise enough to perceive the otherworld, and they could foretell someone’s end.

They’re so terrible, yet so beautiful.” “Yes. Like life itself.

One with the gift can sense the power in another, and I’ve been near some of the greatest to wield the gift in our age. You . . . It burns as bright as the sun in you now. I don’t know how, but your meeting with the elf has changed you. There is vast power in you, and it’s far too dangerous to leave alone.”

Agony and terror wracked the wretch’s mind — Bledla well knew this since he experienced every emotion and measure of pain along with the man. But what was pain? A tool in the service of truth.

Whatever her true name was, Ishdhara claimed to have found evidence that the gift was separate from the sorcerer or sorceress wielding it. In other words, the gift was not intrinsic to the individual in whom it dwelled. Most promising was Ishdhara’s hypothesis that it must be possible to isolate the gift. If it was possible to isolate it, then it must also be possible to separate it.

To be sure, the Way was a convenient means to control the populace. Those in power pandered to the delusion that after their corpses had rotted, the people’s miserable lives might continue if only they would believe hard enough in Edan. Armed with such faith, they would go to war and kill and die. Pathetic.

in this realm, the boundaries ruling the ordinary world — the world of dreams, the world of forms — dissipated like mist. Life — all of it — was one energy. Those who could perceive this energy could also wield it in others, as long as they remained in touch with their will. A voice from the world — or was it the elf? — whispered a thought to him: To make the fear go away, he must break the bond between the priest and the horses.

“Only one I know among the living can wield it: the Supreme Priest Bledla. And he will use it. That’s why one of you must master it. It’s the only way to stop the coming destruction. And if none of you can, find someone, or you will all perish. The coming war will mostlike be a slaughter, and the only way to prevent it depends on someone else mastering this spell. That would prove Bledla is not . . . the second Prophet. There must be balance. Many lives depend on it.”

“Learning to use the gift is one thing. Devotion to Edan is another matter. Neither is an easy path, and one must be prepared to give up much to use the gift. To become a priest, one must give up even more. But we believe they are worthy sacrifices. The Eternal will be the inheritors of Edan’s kingdom, and it’s a priest’s duty to bring that kingdom to fruition by bearing witness to it. A priest must have the gift, but he must also feel the calling. I hope you may hear it one day, but if you don’t . . .” He shrugged and took another draft of his ale. “Edan’s purpose is mysterious, but I have learned to trust it.”

What will it be? Death by hanging, or joining the Mercenary Company of Etinstone?” “Hard to say which would be worse,” jested one of the soldiers, and the others laughed.

“Truth. For all your power, old man, only your fear makes you believe in such a thing as truth. Believing’s your job, Bledla. I don’t choose to fool myself. As for what we saw in there, I grant there’s something sublime about so much hate -- a great leader can do much if he focuses it. All that’s required is to keep the people angry and afraid, and that’s where your Way is useful.”

“Almost a thousand years ago, before your people’s coming to Eormenlond, the Andumae began their great War of the Four Kingdoms, which lasted over a hundred years. It was in truth between their two mightiest kingdoms, Sildharan and Riodara, but the strife enveloped the others. The war raged on until, in the year 992 by your reckoning, the Red Death came.” “The Red Death? A plague?”

Even a mighty king is Edan’s servant, but Earconwald in his pride thinks to be master. More than for any other, he’ll pay dearly for this sin.”

“Another of us has departed. We Dweorgs have no god or gods as your peoples do. Instead, we worship our ancestors, which we all come from and to which we all belong. They dwell in the land, and they are of the land. Gna’s spirit will now return to them.”

Too many years I kept my family far away. Now, I want to see them, and I want it to hurt. They’re gone from this world, but I’ll seek what remains of them, after we get you sorted out with Galdor. And if my sister lives, I’ll find her. If this life’s given her sorrow, I’ll make it better. I swear it by Orm and Angra.”

“For we go to war. Only thing to keep you alive is the man next to you. You’re the Mercenary Company of Etinstone. Expect to be on the front lines, where death stares you in the face. I promise no glory, for war gives none. I promise no wealth, for those who rule you take that. I promise one thing: Follow me and stay true to each other, and more of you will live.

He took it all in at once and understood as if he had witnessed it unfolding for a thousand years. In the realm without time, all evolved before and around him, waiting for him to intervene if he so chose.

Sharp and terrible was its terror. So much anguish. This was the raw and tragic truth of existence. The fear underlying all life. All creatures spend their days finding ways not to feel it, but it screamed at Dayraven with full force.

“Those who follow Edan will inherit everything: beauty, wealth, knowledge, power. They will know bliss, and they will come to understand the world as it was meant to be. Yes, my friend. Those who ally themselves with the Way of Edan have much to gain. Much indeed.”

“Expect cheating in battle,” said Gnorn. “Men hacking at each other and screaming and dying. It’s no tale of valor and prowess for children. Blood and guts and shit. No rules, and few die with glory.”

“The only thing a Thjoth looks after is his sword. His greatest kindness is to kill a man fast rather than slow.”

“Honor is for idiots and dead people. There’s more at stake here than your honor,” hissed Abon. “If they’re your friends, each would give his life for you. And if they knew everything, they’d tell you to flee.

We’re warriors. Here to do our duty. They’ll do theirs, we’ll do ours. All one can do. Fate sorts out the rest. Death comes where it will. Death.