Chapter 9. Return to the House in Amentura
Nar’Allia and Solvienne found themselves within a wing of the house neither of them had ventured into before. It was uncanny; neither of them had even seen it before even though they had walked past this area of the house countless times during their visits. Entrance had been via a large door that looked like the entrance to any other room along the landing at the top of the wide stairs from the dining room below. Both women had been in every room along the landing during their individual exploration of the house, yet neither had been through this particular door; in fact neither remembered such a door. Yet this door was unlocked like any other. They looked at one another perplexed. They followed Jonas through, it led to another short corridor rather than a sumptuous bedroom as all of the other doors off the landing would have done. This corridor was quite plain, wood panelled in a light oak colour. At the far end they stood before a further door. Jonas reached into his coat pocket and withdrew a large metal ring upon which hung many keys. After selecting one carefully, he unlocked this door and they again passed through into Solin’s suite of private rooms.
Solvienne spoke. “Jonas, you have never shown me this room before?”
Jonas turned slowly, his wrinkled features held a half smile of amusement. Nar’Allia had seen this expression many times before, but long ago. “You never asked M’lady!”
Solvienne smirked and shook her head.
They walked into a tidy entrance area with a cool stone floor of dark grey marble flecked through with silver and gold. The walls were hung with tapestries depicting various landscapes. Surprisingly they didn’t look to be of T’Iea design or making. These landscapes where mostly concerned with wide vistas of snow-capped mountains topped by a rich blue and cloudless sky. At their foot hills and lower slopes lay deep and undulating picturesque alpine valleys. Towering water falls of white water cascaded over rocky outcrops pock marked with green shrubbery, lengthy fronds of which hung down emulating the cascades of white water and catching the watery mists that permeated everywhere. The waterfalls poured forth into deep dark blue lakes carved out of the landscape in a time of ice and glaciers. Beyond the turbulent waters at the base of the falls these lakes reflected the sky and the mountains that surrounded them within their motionless, clear mirrored surfaces. In some tapestries figures stood overlooking the alpine meadows and waterfalls, or sat in groups upon the rocky outcrops, they seemed to be enjoying the vistas, for they all had a casual air, they could perhaps just be intent upon passing the time of day.
Some figures leaned against trees or upon each other; others were depicted lying on one elbow amongst the lush flowering greenery, smoking nonchalantly upon clay pipes. They all seemed to be surveying the landscape with the utmost certainty that this was theirs, this was their land within this world, this was where they to belonged. They seemingly justified their belief in their absolute right to stand within these landscapes. Some of these figures were heavily armoured in plate steel, they carried axes, broad double bladed weapons of battle and had tall efficient looking helms upon their heads, or cradled beneath their arms. All had long beards ornately twisted or tied into intricate designs with numerous metal objects or precious stones weaved within them. Nar’Allia recognised these people immediately, she whispered “Grûndén” under her breath.
Jonas remarked. “Aye, m’lady. ‘tis indeed as you say, these are Grûndén. Dwarves I would call ’em. These artworks were a gift from an associate of the lady Solin. I was told that this associate spent a long time with the Grûndén in the north and amassed a large personal fortune. She would have had to, to afford such lavish gifts as these me thinks.”
Solvienne made the link immediately and remarked. “You mean the lady Serinae.”
Jonas first looked towards Nar’Allia, she thought she saw some sadness in his eyes. But he turned and looked at Solvienne. He nodded. “Yes, milady. You knew her then?”
Solvienne just shrugged, “I have heard many tales of the ranger companion to the lady Solin. My mother and the lady Serinae were great friends. I however, have not had the pleasure, she was lost before I was born.”
Nar’Allia listened to the conversation but continued to look at the tapestries. In all the pictures tall pines grew everywhere and beneath them where the sunlight could reach the forest floor grew flowers of all colours, plants of the type typically found in such alpine meadows. In one tapestry a massive, heavily muscled male Elk bedecked with a towering crown of antlers stood on a rocky peninsula high on a mountainous outcrop. His head was thrown back and up, his eyes wild, his mouth open bellowing his regal position over all of his dominions. He exhaled a misty breath with his command. He seemed to be daring any to challenge his authority.
These were not the woodland depictions of great broad-leaved trees that Nar’Allia was used to. She surmised that these landscapes must be depictions of the mountainous region in the far north, the mountains of the Tolle’ Ambrunista that rose high bordering the T’Iea woodlands from the lands to the north. This was the region the Grûndén named Grûndén Hølm.
Nar’Allia’s attention was taken by a clicking noise behind her. Jonas had unlocked and opened more doors, double doors that revealed beyond a sumptuous sitting room of soft furnishings, perhaps a reception room, for in the centre of the room was a large circular table surrounded by many well-padded and cushioned wooden chairs. In contrast to the outer hallway, this furniture was T’Iea, but in a rich style seldom never seen in Nar’Allia’s world. She knew these to be of made by the artisans of the High T’Iea, perhaps for one of their city mansions. Not for the more humble surroundings of a woodland home. Thoughts of the city reminded her of Thor. She wondered if he and Solin had reached Ter’Hadsnefel yet and if so perhaps they enjoyed such a room as this where they were.
More tapestries hung on these walls. They too were distinctly T’Iea. Towns and cities where depicted here. Avenues and boulevards of white stone houses, men and women strolling through the streets in sumptuous clothing. Tall, fortified towers and strongly built walled citadels. In between these tapestries, pictures hung. Mainly these were portraits of T’Iea, in one picture two smiths laboured in front of a furnace, one held a hammer high, his exertions had loosened the clasp that held his waist length hair behind his head, fronds of hair seemed to swing madly in front of his face, swirling around in the heat from the forge. The other T’Ie smith was stripped to the waist, his muscular torso covered in sweat and dirt, he held the blade of a sword in a pair of tongs the metal glowed dull red. He steadied the blade flat upon an anvil awaiting the next blow of the hammer. Another portrait showed two rangers chatting in woodlands. They leaned upon long bows crafted from some white wood, both had hoods tied around their heads, but their facial features could be seen smiling and joking.
Then two pictures in particular, caught Nar’Allia’s eye. A man and a woman in separate portraits hung together side by side. It was obvious who they were for even though they both looked haughty and proud, both exhibited characteristics that showed in Solin’s features, these must be her parents. Both wore coronets depicting the heraldry of their houses. The male had one emblem, the female the same but also by her side the badge of her own heritage. Nar’Allia knew this to be a common fashion in times gone by. Below these two pictures hung a smaller picture, the young T’Iea woman depicted in this portrait was unmistakably Solin herself. But the portion of her eyes surrounding the blue pupils were still their natural white.
Another door led from this room, it already lay open. Nar’Allia approached and deeply curious she stood upon the threshold and looked beyond. Here was a sumptuously warm and comfortable looking bedroom. A big room, for not only did it exhibit a large and very ornate columned bed, there were a good many other items of furniture here. Several tall book cases full of tomes and thick volumes stood upon a slightly raised platform around which ran a hand rail set upon ornately twisted wooden balusters. Fine silk panels filled the gaps between the balusters onto which had been paint
ed various T’Iea figurines. Mainly richly dressed people of indeterminate vocation, but probably aristocratic in their heritage. A large leather topped writing desk faced a large, floor to ceiling stained glass window that seemed to dominate the room. The window depicted a tall T’Iea man in long flowing robes; he looked up towards his raised hands. Nar’Allia couldn’t actually see his hands for they were obscured by bright rays of light, natural light that shone through the window, but cleverly worked into the picture itself, for it looked although the light was emitted from an orb that the figure was obviously holding aloft.
Nar’Allia gasped, “are these rooms, this suite, the personal rooms of the lady Solin Jones?”
“Aye, m’lady, this is where she slept and had her privacy.”
Just inside the door a small occasional table held but one item, the fine porcelain figure of a T’Iea lady wearing a long, bell shaped frock. It was beautiful and both the sculptured and painted detail lavished upon the figurine was breath-taking. Nar’Allia gently picked the little figure up, a melodious jingling sound came, Nar’Allia smiled at the beautiful little hand bell. But she blinked, for as she put the little bell back onto the table she was sure the little figure gathered up her skirts and petticoats with her elegant lace-gloved hands and curtsied before once more remaining still.
Nar’Allia couldn’t take her eyes from the figure but was eventually disturbed from her thoughts by a swishing noise; she turned to see Jonas was carefully pulling on a tapestry on the far side of the room. Oddly this tapestry had a very ornate and probably life-size depiction of a carved door upon it. She gasped for she knew this door, or knew of one like it. She walked across the room and placing her hand upon Jonas’s arm she requested that he leave the tapestry for a moment so she could see it. Nar’Allia stood there staring at the picture woven into the tapestry; she was reminded of a similar door, one she had come across a long time ago. But that door had stood barring the entrance to a cave, a T’Iea refuge upon an island in the Sea of Beadreas. Nar’Allia found her mind comparing these two places even further, the sumptuous tapestry door and the one on the island, for it occurred to her that they represented two ways of T’Iea life. Two extremes of her people’s existence. On one hand a sumptuous high social standing, the way of the academics, a way of gentleness and peaceful pursuits, of manicured gardens and society parties, silken gowns, flashing jewels and clean perfumed personages. On the other a raw more base way of life, a fight for survival of self-preservation, a way of sword and bow, the stench of leather and sweat. Life in the great city, a life perhaps of excess. In stark contrast to the sharper end of life. She had known both these ways, they coexisted within her like Solin and Serinae had coexisted in this house.
The door depicted in the tapestry had depictions carved into it of leaves and the boughs of trees. The leaves were a very distinctive shape for they were each perfectly circular and a deep golden colour. Some were still furled; some were still enclosed within the light nut-brown coloured sheaths in which they matured before they burst forth and opened into the circular form each took. She knew immediately what these leaves belonged to. They were the leaves of the great tree of tree’s, the mother of the forest, that which the T’Iea call the S’Apli’Baum. She had never seen one, for although T’Iea history spoke of whole forests of these vast trees that grew a thousand metres tall, very few survived in this day and age, if any at all, for no one she knew had ever laid eyes upon one.
She knew that the black bow that she once held, the bow that had belonged to Serinae but was now lost in the Rift, was fashioned from the wood of such a tree as this. Nar’Allia stepped back and gesturing with a smile allowed Jonas to slide the tapestry along its runner once more. She gasped as there revealed behind the tapestry stood a door. A real door. But not any door, the exact same door that was depicted within the tapestry, with the exact same leaves and branches of the S’Apli’Baum, but this time they really were carved into and around the door itself in perfect deep relief! She reached out to touch the black wood. It felt warm to the touch and seemed to vibrate slightly. She remembered that Serinae’s black longbow did the same. The carving was deep and smooth as silk. It looked fresh and vibrant as if the craftsman had applied the finishing touches but moments before. Nar’Allia almost expected to see the wood shavings lying upon the floor. But she knew this could not be the case, for she had never seen anything that even came close to the skill that went into the creation of this work of exquisite art, the door must be thousands of years old.
She traced the various carvings with her fingertips; the wood was smooth as glass. But then she withdrew her hand quickly with a sharp intake of breath. She had seen, thought she had seen, a figure, all in white standing before her in front of the wooden door. It was just a flash, but when she closed her eyes the outline of the figures head and shoulders was still retained in her retina.
“I have heard it said milady that the spirit of the tree still lives in the wood of this door, personally I think that is a load of old tosh, how can a tree have a spirit, they are just unfeeling, dead things without any brains or a heart.” Jonas laughed.
Nar’Allia felt slight anger at his words, her T’Iea heritage told her something different. Her history told a different story, had a different knowledge about these things. But she let it go, just smiled at Jonas, left him to his ignorance. Then she noticed something else. A small depression in the wood, a little receptacle. She looked at Solvienne and pointed to this little depression and stepped back.
Nar’Allia knew before Solvienne placed the Dolan in the little receptacle that the door would open. She had seen this process many times before, not on this particular mechanism but on many other remarkably similar devices. But these others had been below the sands of the great Rust Desert, within the ancient human military facility that had been built beneath those sands yet was probably now destroyed. She had been there, some years before, had her own adventures. But her thoughts returned to the present for sure enough with a gentle click the door opened and stood ajar with the barest of cracks. Solvienne looked at Nar’Allia who nodded, so Solvienne pulled upon the ornate handle set into the door.
Despite their expectations of a heavy weight the door swung outwards with very little effort.