The Return of the White Stone

THE RETURN OF THE WHITE STONE

BOOK ONE

OF

THE NEW EARTH ODYSSEY

BY

ROBERT BLUMETTI

Copyright 1985

By

Robert Blumetti

First Edition 2003: Iuniverse

Second Edition 2019: Scifi Imperium Publishing

Cover art and illustration by Robert Blumetti

ISBN

978-1-67801-099-7

The Dedication

I dedicate this book to two men who inspired me to write it:  J. R. R. Tolkien, whose books filled me with the love of the quest and adventure and Richard Wagner, whose music moved me to appreciate the timelessness of our myths and legends.

Other Books by Robert Blumetti

On Odinism:

Vril: the Secret to a Happy and Successful Life

Vril and Germanic Magic

Vrilology: the Secret Science of the Ancient Aryans

An Introduction to Viktor Rydberg’s Teutonic Mythology

The Book of Balder Rising

The new Book of Balder Rising

The Complete Edda

The Elder Futhark

Viktor Rydberg's Teutonic Mythology

Yggdrasil Training Program

Hel: Part One

Jotunheim: Part Two

Svartalfheim: Part Three

Niflheim: Part Four

Midgard: Part Five

Muspellheim: Part Six

Ljossalfheim: Part Seven

Vanaheim: Part Eight

Asgard: Part Nine

Fiction:

The Falin Crisis

Galactic Affairs Short Stories

What If?

More What Ifs?

New Earth Odyssey series:

The Return of the White Stone:  Part 1

The Quest Begins: Part 2

The Witch's Cauldron and the Dragon's Fir: Part 3

Fire and Ice: Part 4

The War of the Stones: Part 5

Into the Darkness: Part 6

The Bully-High Lord of Uppsala-Hof

Happy Yule to You Too

Ironstorm

Rache!

The Lion Is Humbled

The Dance of the Titans

President Bonaparte

CHAPTER ONE: WHERE EVENTS CONVERGE

Within the Darkness of the Great Void there is only violent stillness. The great winds of destructive power sweeps through the blackness and yet, no sound is heard nor any wind felt and no light can be seen.  One is only aware of the overwhelming sense of evil and the bone-chilling terror that grips your heart.  For the Darkness is overpowering, repressive chaos.  Its power is the ability to destroy one’s will to live once the spirit in man is broken the flesh cannot long endure.

Beyond the Darkness there is the Light.  The Light is a gloriously warmth filling every corner of its end of the Void with endless bliss and beauty.  Sounds and sensations are felt by all five senses at once, as one swims in the waves of brilliant white light.

The Darkness cannot enter where the Light resides, nor can the Light penetrate the domain of the Darkness.  Between the two is a gray zone that separates them.  This zone prevents one from crossing over into the other’s domain.  Yet, it is only in this zone where both the Light and the Darkness can enter as equals.  There they mix their essence, forming the physical cosmos, inhabited by the endless stars and planets of the universe.  For the known universe is the product of the rape of the Light by the Darkness: a product of the intermingling of the violent stillness of the Darkness, and the motionless bliss of the Light.  Within this zone the opposite forces meet in an endless struggle for the dominance.  It is on a small, round, spinning life-globe within this zone, circling a yellow star that this titanic struggle unfolds.

As one approaches the life-globe from far out in space one can barely make out what is happening on its surface.  But, as one nears, continents and oceans become visible. Soon population streams come into sight, like great rivers of living energy.  Then one discovers that the life-globe itself is contained within a living aura of life-energy, flickering with flashes of light, and opening and closing black holes that appear and disappear on its surface.  Soon one discovers that all the activity on the globe is actually thousands of centuries passing before one's eye in the matter of minutes. Sometimes the globe turns bright white with a brilliant light, and other times a black shadow grows and spreads over its surface until it almost covers the spinning ball.  Back and forth the struggle continues for the domination of the life-globe, repetitiously, like the endless tides of the ocean.  Darkness and Light are ever mixing, but never mingling.  Pushing and shifting and yet never merging.  But some areas remain constant.

As we slow the flow of time and focus in on a certain age, we discover a great intensity on one of the continents of the life-globe.  There we find a great concentration of life and death, creation and destruction, despair and the will to persevere.  There both the Light and the Darkness exist side by side.

In one small valley, nestled away among the great mountains in the northeast of one of the continents, the Light shines brightly.  There it fills all the surrounding lands and courses through all the living things that inhabit the area.  Through the living rocks and the pure white snow it shines and dances across the sparkling blue mountain lakes and springs.  Like a great current of energy it runs through every branch and leaf, every blade of grass and pedal on every flower.  It surrounds and runs through all the animals that roam wild in the forest, and the birds that fly overhead, as well as the fish that swim in the rivers and lakes.  But most importantly the Light fills the bodies of the Truemans who walk the earth and till the soil.  It courses through the life-giving, warm, red blood in their veins, and binds them together as living cells of one great living entity, as one people.

And wherever on the life-globe there are Truemans, one can see a brilliant halo from far overhead, rising into the cold dark expanse of the Void, pulsating with life.  In this way the people are linked together by the Light, eliminating even a single living individual, will affect everyone as members of the collective spiritual organism.  From this valley the Light pours out eastward across the rivers and hills, over the land that people of this realm called the Mark.

The Mark is a sleepy little land, where the people live a pastoral life, farming, fishing and selling what simple goods their crafts permit them.  On any morning in the Mark you can hear all the usual sounds that accompany the arrival of dawn; doors slamming, roosters crowing, dogs barking, the wheels of farmers’ wagons creaking as they begin their ride out to their fields, and the sounds of farm animals welcoming the dawn of a new day.  All these sounds are heard as the sun rises lazily over the East Mark Mountains.  Its first golden rays glistening on the rooftops of the town of Middleboro, the capital of the Mid (as the Middlelanders liked to refer to the Central Mark), and is located at the junction where the River Rill is formed from the joining of the West Rill and the East Rill.  It is a typical town as towns go in the Mark, containing about seventy-five orange-brown, shingled-roofed, wood-framed, white cottages.

On this fine spring morning the only sound that Tom Applekean heard was the ringing of a bell-clock that sat on his dresser.  It was given to him by his father for his eleventh birthday.  Tom jumped out of bed, pulled his nightshirt over his head and began hopping about while trying to fit his leg into his pants, falling over twice in the process.  After he finally got his pants on, he pulled on his big black boots and green shirt and then poured some water into his wash pan and began to scrub up.  He could hear his father calling from down stairs.  Tom! Tom! Hurry up, you little slow-coach, get yourself down here and eat some breakfast!

Tor Applekean was a short, fat, red-checked man with a balding head and a round belly that bounced as he ran about his tavern, The Unicorn Inn.  It was known to carry the best ale and mead in all the Mid.  Hurry-up Tom, my boy! It's five-thirty and your friends, Huck and Rullin are already up and sitting at the breakfast table!

Coming, pop! Tom shouted, as he raced for the door, still wiping his face and almost running into the wall.

Tom recognized all the delicious aromas that one would expect to find at Tor Applekean’s tavern this early in the morning; eggs and bacon, freshly baked bread, hot cakes with honey and maple syrup, and cornbread and flat jacks smothered in butter.  When Tom entered the dining room, he saw his two friends, who had arrived at The Unicorn Inn the day before, already helping themselves, to breakfast.  First there was Rullin Ashburn, who lived in the West Mark, a small, strip of land on the west bank of the Markway River that cuts the Twin Woods in half.  The Ashburn family was one of the founding families of the West Mark, and one of its wealthiest families.  The West Mark was the only section of the Mark that was located west of the Markway River.  Its original settlers first colonized the area because they wanted to cut a path through the forest, and build a road that would link the Mark with Bridgetown, on the Estor River.  The first settlers were only able to clear the land for a few miles into the forest.  A wall was constructed to protect the settlements from the creatures that dwelled within its dark woods.  But soon the settlement grew, and the people began to clear away the trees beyond the wall.  Eventually, a second wall was built while the first one was permitted to fall into ruin.  Several additional walls were eventually constructed and permitted to decay in the same fashion, as the area of the West Mark grew.  This continued until the forest was eventually breached in the course of several centuries, where the West Mark cut through to the wild Borderlands beyond the Twin Woods, a strong and beautiful gate was built of granite and marble, uniting the two sections of the West Mark Wall.  Within the wall there grew up the city of Gateburg.  Originally the people who settled there were commissioned to care for the gate, but soon they came to care more for trade and fortune, as all commerce and traffic passed through it.

The people of the West Mark were mainly of Pittorian blood, though there was some Venturian blood in the countryside, and Fabboish strains along the forest wall settlements of Lawntown, Wallfalk and Flowbourgh.  Rullin was typically Pittorian.  He had a swarthy complexion with black hair and brown eyes.  He was the son of Tullin Ashburn, the mayor of the capital town of Ashbury, and the oldest city in the West Mark.  Rullin’s long black hair was parted on the right side of his head with a forelock sloping down over his brow.  He was short in stature and his brown eyes possessed a brilliance that betrayed his quick wit.  He wore a finely tailored cream-colored shirt and orange vest, black pants and his boots were the same color as his shirt.

The other boy seated at the table was Hucklin Lock, from the South Mark.  His friends called him Huck for short.  He was the tallest of the three boys, big-boned and well built.  His face had strong features, and his red hair was parted down the middle.  He possessed brilliant blue eyes.  He wore a bright green shirt with a brown vest, tan pants and brown riding boots.  The Locks were very fond of riding and horses, like most families in the south.  They were one of the most prominent families in all the Mark and it was said, at least among the Locks, that the first family to actually set foot on Mark soil belonged to a Lock.  They resided primarily in the South Mark and were counted among the landed gentry there, but they intermarried with most of the best families throughout the Mark.  Several members of the Lock family had distinguished themselves over the years in battle, as members of the militia, and were noted for their adventurous spirit.  Huck’s father was Hockintor, one of the Elders of the South Mark that met in the High Senate.  For hundreds of years the center of the Lock clan was near Lockhaven, situated along the Lockrill River.

The boys were planning to go camping in the woods of the North Mark, as they did every summer.  Well, here we all are! Rullin said.  We’re finished with breakfast, and if we are to leave on time and get an early start, we had better get a move on.

I don't think that we have to worry about Tom here wasting time eating.  Food doesn't have a chance when placed in front of him, laughed Huck.

Tom raised one eye brow and pressed his lips together in a half mile as he plopped down in his chair, half out of breath.  It’s a beautiful morning, it is! he said.  In fact, it's my favorite time of day.  I only wish that it didn't come so early in the day.

You just wait until you get out, on the road, with the smell of grass on the wind, and the sounds of the outdoors all about you, and you’ll be glad that you got up early enough not to miss the magic of an Eresun morning, Rullin said, as he wolfed down the last of his breakfast.  Hurry up, Tom!  We still have to stop by and pick up Pal.

Just then, Tom’s father burst into the dining room with a fresh pitcher of milk.  Here you are my boys.  Fresh milk for strong bones and you’ll all be-needing strong bones if your legs are to take you where you’ll be-wanting to go this morning.  There is a lot of walking ahead of you, I'm sure.  So I put extra helpings of food in all your backpacks, Tor Applekean said, very fast and all in one breath as he usually spoke when busy.

I hope you put some of your apple pie in our packs, Mr. Applekean? asked Huck.

Why I most certainly did, my boy, Tor said, as he put his hand on Huck’s shoulder and smiled.  Tor loved it when people praised his food and drink.  It does my heart good to see you boys, growing up, so strong and healthily.  Yes it does!  But now I must go and tend to my guests.  Oh, Tom, make sure to stop and say goodbye before leaving.  I packed some food for Master Palifair that I want you to give him, Tor said, as he rushed out the door and disappeared into the public dining room to tend to business.

After everyone finished their breakfast, they began inspecting their backpacks and checking the contents.  Each pack included a bedroll, rope, candles, cooking equipment, flint for making a fire, a small shovel, canvas for a tent and an extra set of clothing.  Tom’s father provided them with dried sausages, salted meats, bread wafers, small jars of honey and butter, plus some of his very best cheese, and water bags filled with water.  They also found in each pack, an individually wrapped, freshly-baked apple pie.

After the boys put on their packs and grabbed their walking sticks, they said goodbye to Tom's father.  Tor gave his son a big bear hug.  He loved his son very much.  Tom was his whole life, ever since his wife died when Tom was very young.  He had to run both the tavern and raise Tom with the help of his sister, Terry Applekean, who was away visiting relatives in Applemorton.  After they said their farewells, Tor gave Tom a bag containing the same contents that he packed in their backpacks, for Tom's friend Palifair.  Just then, Tom remembered something that he had forgotten and quickly raced up to his room and grabbed a large brown, leather-bound book, which was his favorite reading.  It was a copy of ancient history and folklore about the Mark, and far off lands.  It was entitled: Records of Racial Memories and Tales of the Truemans.  The book was given to him by the wandering druid, Blondor, who often stayed at The Unicorn Inn, bringing strange and exciting gifts from distant lands that he would give away to the children of Middleboro.  Tom especially loved tales of heroes and warriors who did battle with the Undermen legions of the shadow Kingdom of Allomania.

The three boys left the inn and turned up Nord Street.  Each held a walking stick in one hand and a camping knife hanging from their belt.  They soon came to a stop in front of an old, but well kept, three-story house with a high-pitched roof.  It belonged to Mistress Rowena Chestnut, Enchantress and Spell Caster, as the sign out front clearly advertised in bold red letters.  She learned the craft of spell casting from her mother, and earned a living from the town folk, and surrounding country people, by casting spells that ensured a good harvest or a healthy birth for newlyweds having a baby.  Rowena, like her mother was a white enchantress and worshiped the Light, and the Lords that ruled it.  Thus, the Chestnut home was often visited by the Druids of Wissenval, as guests who either sought her aid or came to give advice.  Her mother, Tuwena Sunbreeze was an exceptionally beautiful woman, and many said that her beauty was surpassed only by that of her daughter’s, Rowena.  She married Dommor Chestnut, who was killed in the Battle of the South Gate, when a troop of trogs tried to force their way into the Mark, several years after their son, Palifair was born.  Dommor was the local leader of the Middleboro Militia.  Tuwena warned him that he would not return.  When her husband didn’t return, she continued to live for several more years, but her love for her departed husband was so great that she lost the will to go on living without him.  Before she finally died of a broken heart, she told her daughter to take good care of her brother, Palifair and seek the aid of the druids, Blondor and Arlindor.  She warned her that a time would come when she and her brother would be tested by the Lords of the Light, and they would have to take on a grave responsibility.   But Tuwena never told Rowena what was that responsibility.  From birth, there was no denying that the Chestnut children were exceptional and possessed extraordinary gifts, especially young Palifair, who most everyone in Middleboro liked.  He was very bright and learned to speak several languages from the druids.  He was always the first to appear when a neighbor needed a helping hand, and never one to speak ill about anybody.  Everyone who came in contact with him was struck by his princely matter and his self-assuredness.  His face possessed fine features, and his yellow hair, parted in the middle, fell in silken waves to his shoulders.  He was tall, though shorter than his friend Huck, and his limbs were well proportioned.  He wore a simple white shirt with a brown vest and black belt.  His pants were also brown, though a darker shade and his boots.

Rowena was a strikingly beautiful young woman with long sun-colored hair that fell smoothly on her white shoulders.  Her face was gentle with fine, chiseled features, and contained a self-assurance that warned men that she was no simple child that could easily be fooled.  Her lips were full and rose-red, and her skin could only be described as possessing a peaches and cream complexion.  But her most striking feature was her dark, blue eyes that seem to have the power to melt the heart of even the strongest willed man.  In fact,