A Kingdom Falls (The Mancer Trilogy Book 1) (12 page)

“One by one the rest of the company formed up around Mancer, so instead of retreating down the road and leaving the women and children to fend for themselves, the Fifth Company of the Third Lowland Regiment of the kingdom of Zarekland formed a defensive line and prepared to defend the farm.

“It was not long until the enemy appeared and formed up into a battleline.  Upon seeing the enemy, Mancer took a step forward, gave them the finger, and shouted out, ‘Come on, you fat bastards!’

“The battle was hard fought and, over the period of the day, more and more elements of the Third Lowland Regiment arrived to reinforce the farmhouse defenders.  In the end, the Zarekland forces were victorious.  A few days later, the new captain for the Fifth Company arrived.  That man’s name was Captain Nathanial West, and the rest, as they say, is history.”

“You have given us a lot to ponder,” said Peter.

“Yes, a lot to ponder,” agreed Andrew.

“Don’t ponder too long.  Hubert Mancer was simply the man he was.  It’s not his fault that people have pinned their hopes and fears on him.  It’s not his fault that people try and make him something he is not.”

“We know,” agreed Peter and Andrew.

“Now keep your end of the deal.”

“Yes, of course,” smiled Andrew.  “Please, wait here.”  With that, Andrew made his way through the garden and into the main building.

Peter looked around.  “Beautiful, isn’t it?”

Shadow Killer looked at the hard frost glistening in the light of the full moon.  “It is.”

Silence reigned.

It was about ten minutes later when Andrew Moore returned and silently handed over a rolled up scroll to Shadow Killer.  Shadow Killer, keeping his one hand by his side, looked quizzically at Moore.

“Oh, sorry,” muttered Andrew as he unwrapped the scroll and held it out for Shadow Killer to read.

As he read the words for a second time, a mocking smile appeared on his face and a light laugh escaped his lips.  “I now understand the smile, old friend.”

“Eh, sorry?” said Peter Hazelgrove.

“It’s nothing,” dismissed Shadow Killer with a shake of his head.  “An old friend of mine used to wear this really annoying mocking smile.  You could never know if he mocking you, himself, the world, or all three.”

“That would be annoying,” commented Peter.

“You have no idea.”  Shadow Killer grinned before looking serious.  “However, now that I have read the full Mancer Prophecy, I understand his smile.”

“So why the smile, Shadow Killer?” asked Peter Hazelgrove.

“The sheer number of paradoxes.”

“What... what do you mean?  It is fairly straightforward, is it not?” asked Andrew.  “The Midnight Man will return.  There will be some fighting and, when it is at its bleakest, a man of low standing will save the day.”

“That is a truly simplified version,” said Shadow Killer.

“I know; however those of the military branch of our cult search for this mysterious man.”

“Sorry, they what?” interrupted Shadow Killer.

“They search...”  Andrew stopped what he was saying before stating, “That smile is really, really annoying.”

Shadow Killer kept silently smiling at the pair of men in front of him.

“Would you kindly stop that?” asked Peter.

Shadow Killer slowly shook his head.  “Why do you call it the Mancer Prophecy?”

“Because the Cult of Mancer discovered it,” answered Andrew.

“Truly?”

“Yes, truly.”  A hint of anger crept into Peter’s voice.

Shadow Killer looked up to the clear sky and the millions of dots of light that hung there, in the dark and cold night.  “You really don’t see it, do you? – the wonderful paradox and irony.”

“See what, Shadow Killer?” Peter demanded.

Lowering his gaze, Shadow Killer stared directly into Peter’s eyes.  “The person you are searching for is... Mancer.”

“What?” Peter and Andrew exclaimed together.

“The last section of the prophecy is describing Hubert Mancer.”

“But he died over fifty year ago!” stated Andrew Moore.

“I know.”

“As I said earlier, a wonderful paradox and irony.”  Shadow Killer grinned.

“Are you positive that it is our Lord Mancer the prophecy is describing?” asked Peter.

“Oh, yes, of all the people I have met in my long life, only Hubert Mancer would stand before certain death, scream out an insult, and believe that he would survive.”

Peter rubbed his brow.  “I don’t understand.  How can a dead man return and defeat the Midnight Man?  I can understand how the Midnight Man can return; after all, he is Spirit and, if his host body dies, he can simply move on, however, Lord Mancer was just a man.  How can he return?”

“I don’t have a clue,” replied Shadow Killer.

“What?” declared Peter.

Shadow Killer shrugged his shoulders.  “I don’t have a clue.”

“You are Shadow Killer, one of the great Dev’vers!” said Andrew.

“I was.”  Shadow Killer took a deep breath.  “I was.  I am now a one-armed bodyguard for a queen, and talking about being a bodyguard, I must return now.  Keep that scroll safe and hide it well.”  Shadow Killer opened a shadow-door and stepped through.

Andrew and Peter watched as the portal closed and vanished.  “We have learned much, this night,” said Peter.  “It changes everything.”

“Actually, it changes nothing,” said Andrew.

“Why?”

Andrew looked up at the night sky.  “As I said before – The Midnight Man will return.  There will be some fighting and, when it is at its bleakest, a man of low standing will save the day.”

“And as Shadow Killer said – that is a very simplistic view,” countered Peter.  “What of the human cost?  What of the stories of those who will fight, die, and live through it?”

Tears slowly started to fall from Andrew’s eyes.  “I fear those dark tales will begin sooner than we think.”

“Fear not, my friend,” Peter moved to stand beside Andrew, “for we are the Cult of Mancer and we shall be a beacon of light when this world plummets into darkness.”

Andrew blinked away the tears and, half-laughing, said, “Will we have the strength to stand before evil and tell it to go away, in no uncertain terms?”

“I like to think that there is a little of Lord Mancer in all of us, upon which we can call when needed.”

“Peter?”

“Yes.”

“Do you think that Lord Mancer was a good man?”

Peter paused for a moment before saying, “Does it matter?”

***

Shadow Killer exited the shadow-door and stepped onto the balcony.  He could hear the raised voices from inside the room.  They were still debating how to deal with the Red Bank.  Shadow Killer ignored them and leant on the guardrail of the balcony, looking at the deep black water.  “You almost got me, Cloud Chaser...”

The wind suddenly howled and violently blew the leaves around.

“Ah, you don’t like being called by your real name, do you?  But I remember you – when you were Cloud Chaser, a Chosen, an Air Spirit flying free in the Star Mountains, before you were trapped and became insane.”

The wind again gusted brutally around the balcony.

“Likewise, you know who I am, and I will fight you.”

Laughter came from the wind.

“I will fight.”

“
You will lose
,” the wind said.

“Yes, I know,” replied Shadow Killer, with a mocking smile.

The fury of the wind increased.  “
You will DIE
!”

Shadow Killer raised his head and smiled into the growing storm.  “We all die in the end.”

Through the open window, the scent of jasmine was carried into the room on a gentle breeze, along with the musical sound of falling water.  Jacob Pace reached out for the glass of deep red wine, which was sitting on his desk, and took a chaste sip.  Carefully, he placed it back down and continued reading the report in front of him, the rest of which were stacked neatly on his in-tray, awaiting their turn.

An hour or so passed as he worked away, before he leaned back in his chair and, with his mind, called out, “
Lucas!
”

“
Yes, Father
,” came the almost instant reply.

“
I require your presence
.”

“
As you command, Father
.”

Jacob Pace reached for his wine glass, raised it to his mouth, and drank just enough to moisten his lips and throat.  A shadow-door opened in his office and from it stepped an elderly gentleman.  “You called, Father?”

Jacob looked at his youngest son and raised a disapproving eyebrow.

“Sorry, Father,” said Lucas Pace.  His entire body shimmered and blurred for a moment, before revealing a youthful and surprisingly fresh-faced man in his mid-twenties.

Jacob ran his tongue over his teeth and drummed the fingers of his free hand on his desk.  “It seems that my curse of having disappointing sons had not yet been lifted.”

“Sorry, Father,” repeated Lucas.

“
Sorry, Father
,” Jacob said with a sneer.  “At least your dead brother, Solomon, had the guts to be a man around me, even if he had the intelligence of a vole.”

“I know I disappoint you, Father.”

Jacob studied his only remaining son whilst taking another taste of his expensive and rare red wine.  “Lucas.”

“Father?”

“I sometimes think that you pretend to be a spineless and worthless man just to spite me.”

“Not at all, Father.”

“Mmmmm.”

A deep silence fell between the two men as Jacob continued to study his son and slowly drink his wine.  Lucas stood silently before his father’s desk, his eyes firmly fixed on the floor.  It was thirty minutes later when Jacob placed down his empty wine glass and folded his hands on the table.  “Tell me what you know about the Mancer Prophecy.”

Lucas took a deep breath and thought for a moment.  “It is a current prophecy.  It states that the creature known as the Midnight Man shall return and sweep all before him.”

“What do you know about the Midnight Man?”

“He was initially an Air spirit called Cloud Chaser, who became trapped in the body of a man named Nathanial West, hence causing Cloud Chaser to become insane and become the Midnight Man.  My deceased brother, Solomon, was involved with Nathanial West and, hence, by default, with the Midnight Man.”

“That was… adequate.”

“Thank you, Father.”

“That was not praise, Lucas.”

“Sorry, Father.”

Jacob shook his head.  “Anyway, do you think this prophecy threatens us?”

“The Midnight Man is linked to us via Solomon.”  Lucas paused for a moment as he collected his thoughts.  “There is a potential for the Midnight Man to be a threat to us.”

“How?”

“If he does successfully take over the continent of Talocants, he would have quite a power base, plus…”  Lucas paused.

“What is it, Lucas?” Jacob asked, quietly.

“The Midnight Man is still an Air spirit, a Chosen.”

“Correct.”

“His home was the Star Mountains.”

“Again, correct.”

“So he will know about…”

“The Draken amulet,” finished Jacob as he stared at his desktop and tapped his fingers.

“Correct, Father.”  For a fleeting moment, Lucas’ mask slipped to reveal the face of a man of deep intelligence and inner strength.  “If he gains the Draken amulet, he would be a force to contend with.”

“You have given me much to think about, Lucas.”

“Yes, Father.  Is there anything else?”

“Yes, there is.  I require you to attend, upon my behalf, your sister’s event in two weeks’ time.”

“What event is Oceania hosting, Father?”

“Call yourself a Pace?  You only continue to disappoint, Lucas.”

“I apologise, Father, for all my failures, and the fact that I always fail to meet your expectations.”

“I don’t want apologies, boy; I want you to be the man I am.”

“No one can be the man you are, Father.”

Jacob drummed his fingers slowly and powerfully on his desk.  “Boy, you test my patience.”

“Sorry, Father.”

“Quite.  Anyway, back to your sister.  As you know, ever since her husband fell, Leviathan has been courting her.”

“I am aware of that, Father.”

“Well, there have been developments.”  Jacob smiled a very rare smile.  “The Kraken has returned.”

“What?” Lucas asked in astonishment.

“Her husband, the Kraken, has returned.”

“But he died, what – eleven years ago at the Battle of Light.  I always thought that his spirit was destroyed, as well as his body.”

“As did everyone, but apparently not.”

“But that means that he has managed to return in only ten years instead of at least a thousand!”

“So it seems.”

“Blimey!”

“Yes, blimey, indeed.”

“Are you sure it’s him?”

“Your sister is sure.”

“Oh, I bet Leviathan is not a happy person,” half-laughed Lucas.

“No, he is not; hence, your sister’s event.”

“You have yet to tell me what the event is, Father.”

“Your sister, Oceania, being a practical woman, has said that the Kraken and the Leviathan will fight to true death and the winner shall be her husband.”

“That’s a bit brutal; mind you, Oceania always did have a vicious streak in her.”

“Something, sadly, my sons lack, and don’t bloody apologise, Lucas.”

“Yes, Father.”

“I have a prior engagement that day so I need you to attend in my place.”

“Yes, Father, though I am surprised you are not sending young Kimberley.”

“She has more important things to do.”

“Ah.”

Jacob Pace took a report from his in-tray and settled down to read it.  After ten minutes, he looked up at his son.  “Please don’t let me delay you, and don’t slam the door when you leave.”

“Yes, Father.”  With that, Lucas made his way out of the room, being overly careful when shutting the door.

As soon as his son had left the room, Jacob Pace called out with his mind, “
My lord, we need to talk
.”

“
Attend me in half an hour
,” replied Lord D’Edlup, Emperor of the Eternal Forest and Lord of those across the sea.

“
Yes, my lord
.”

***

Lucas Pace smiled as he closed the door to his father’s office.  Whistling a merry tune, he made his way out of the small building and into the walled garden.  Kimberley Pace sat on a swing seat near the bubbling fountain, reading under a parasol.

“Hello, my favourite niece,” called out Lucas.

Kimberly looked up from her book.  “Hello, Uncle.”

“What are you reading?  A romance?  Surely not one of those dirty sexy books that pretend to be romantic because they are written by a female author.  If so, can I have a read?”

“Uncle!”

“What?  Budge over,” replied Lucas as he sat down.  Kimberly gave him an evil stare.  Lucas smiled in return whilst studying Kimberley.  She was so much like her mother – the red hair, her face - though she did have Solomon’s green eyes.

“You look sad, Uncle.”

“No.”  Lucas shook his head.

“You were thinking about my mother and father.”

“Well, maybe...”

“I know you were.”

“You do look a lot like your mother.”

“So people tell me.  I just thank my lucky stars that I do not take after that idiot father of mine.”

“Kimberley,” lightly scolded Lucas.

“He was a fool and a failure.”

“That is your grandfather talking.”

Kimberley’s eyes lit up with fanatical devotion.  “My grandfather is a great man who holds a very important position, unlike the loser father of mine.”

“Yes, he does,” said Lucas, nodding slowly.  “Solomon was also great, in his own way.”

“Rubbish,” dismissed Kimberley.  “He was a loser and he paid the price.”  Looking critically at her uncle, she asked, “Why do you always do your best to upset Grandfather, Uncle Lucas?”

“I don’t.”

“Other people might believe that, but I don’t.”  Kimberley narrowed her eyes.  “I sometimes think that the only reason you became a healer was to make Grandfather upset.”

“The only reason I became a healer was because my father told me to become one.”

Kimberley’s eyes widened in disbelief.

“You are still young, Kimberley; do not think that you know everything,” Lucas gently scolded.  “The past is a foreign country to you, and you only know a small fraction of what happened there.”

“I stand corrected, Uncle,” Kimberley stated in a cold voice.

“It’s too nice a day to fight, Kimberley,” laughed Lucas, raising his eyes up to the cloudless deep-blue skies.  “Let’s not fight, eh?”

“First you make fun of Grandfather, and then you scold me, then you say we are not to fight.  What are you like?”

Lucas’ body and face shimmered a second as he transformed himself into a stunningly handsome man the same age as Kimberley.  “Why, I am anything people want me to be.”

“Uncle!” smiled Kimberley.

“That’s better,” said Lucas.  “No matter what, I can still make my favourite niece smile.”

“That is true; now, turn back, please.”

Once again, Lucas’ body and face shimmered and he returned to his true self.

Kimberley reached out and gently touched his face.  “You are a fool and an idiot.”

“I know.”

“But I am glad that I know you.”  Kimberley removed her hand.

“Really!” said a shocked Lucas.

“Yes.”

“That is so unlike my father.”

“I know.  I am still not as strong as he is... not yet.”

“And I dread the day when you become him.”

“And I look forward to that day with all my heart, Uncle.”

“So what has the old coffin dodger got you doing lately?”

Kimberley sighed, dramatically.  “Grandfather is not an old coffin dodger.  He is a great man.”

“Ok, then what has my father got you doing lately?  Happy with that?”

“Yes, and I am not allowed to tell you.”

“Why?” asked a puzzled Lucas.

“He has banned me from discussing it with anyone.”

“Even family?”

“Especially you.”

“I never said...”

“No, but Grandfather did.”

“Oh.  Oh, well, as much as I would like to stay and chat, dear niece,” Lucas stood up and bowed to his niece, “I need to go and see your aunt.  I just wanted to say hello while I was here.”

“Why are you seeing Aunt Oceania?”

“I’m not allowed to tell.  It’s top secret.”  Lucas stuck out his tongue.

Despite herself, Kimberly laughed.  “Ah, I shall not push you on the subject, then; instead, I will say goodbye.”

“Farwell, Niece.”

Kimberley watched carefully as her uncle left the garden, before picking up her book and continuing reading from where she had stopped.  The smiling face which she had put on for her uncle slowly fell away to be replaced by the one the world normally saw – cold, neutral, and totally detached.

***

Far away
across the seas and sand

The dry arid breeze ruffled the tattered silk curtains, which hung from one of the numerous open windows, making its way from the baking hot desert and into the vast stone-pillared chamber.  Slowly dying as it made its way through the room, the breeze expended the last of its energy to caress the unfeeling fingerbones of Lord Skeal as he sat unmoving on his highly carved stone throne.

Lord Skeal was truly a creature from nightmares, a giant skeletal figure wearing thick robes of deep purple and black.  A simple, gleaming, golden crown adorned his ancient yellowed skull.  Black ghostly fire danced and flickered in his eye sockets, which gazed down at the unchanging vista of his throne room.