Black Kerthon's Doom (10 page)

"We won't be able to travel quickly with Daura in that condition," said Brice. "May I continue to search for Cara until sundown?"

Gareth nodded and began to cut branches for the litter.

It comes fast, he thought. I did not think it would end this quickly. My eyes upon the High King are no more and my sister is dying. Worse yet is the malice of ancient Kerthon which reaches from beyond the grave to claim my family again. Again! Did he not die? Must we tear down each stone of this tower and also the coastal castle at Moorld? If I follow the same path, will the madness come upon me as it did my father? Or will the throne be ours again? He looked at the pale face of his sister and he could not hold back the tears.

Macelan finished tying the litter together and helped Brice lift Daura onto it and secured her. Gareth raised his head and nodded. They began their journey back to the camp and Brice continued south toward Rhath.

"This tea is too hot," said the High King, quickly biting a section of fruit. He raised his eyes to the ceiling. He sighed, shaking his huge stomach. Drumming his ornate ringed fingers sharply on the table he stared at his servant.

The High King's journey ended the previous week as they returned to Nantitet and since their arrival, the High King had decided to be more assertive. He met with the wizards every day that they were in the palace and he felt he had a fair understanding of their activities in his name. Some were useful but others were suspicious. He wanted to know more about their motives. What was their objective? He wanted to prove that he could be as cold and calculating as the wizards. He needed them to fear him or he would lose his throne. And most important, he needed them to think he was in control of his mind again. Sometimes his thoughts had been too cloudy and he would stop in the middle of a sentence. It was getting better, but it would take more time. And he needed to keep the wizards guessing.

"This tea is too hot," he repeated. A servant came forward and received the cup from the High King who then struck the servant with the back of his hand. The servant stumbled and spilled the hot tea on himself. He looked at the High King, pain written plainly on the face of an old servant who had respected his master. The other servants told him the High King's favor wouldn't last, that the High King would remember, finally, that he was a common slave. The servant shook his head, disappointed. The High King ignored him and chuckled, turning to the wizards who sat on the steps at the foot of the golden throne.

"We must be strict or discipline crumbles like a decadent empire."

"Well said," replied Prosty. "I do not envy your position and responsibilities." He reached absently for a biscuit. The trays were laden with more food than the three of them could eat.

"Hmm. No, perhaps you don't," the High King said softly. "What news of the traitor, Parean?"

"We are going to question him further this evening," said Prosty. "Kaell will be in charge himself. Our people do not seem to be making much progress with the young man."

"You said his accomplice was killed by Parean?"

"Yes," said Kaell. "We found the body soon after catching him. It was a brutal murder. Clearly the work of a berserker. The body was difficult to identify."

"It was Gareth's sister, Daura," said Prosty. "I'm afraid Kaell was too late. We don't know if she spurned Parean's advances or there was betrayal of Gareth involved. Something triggered Parean into a frightful rage. He was nearly incoherent when captured. It unnerved everyone involved."

The High King grimaced, imagining a scene gruesome enough to upset Kaell.

"I find it hard to believe Daura was involved. She never had strong opinions on politics. However, she did have a distrust of you, Kaell."

The wizard's head jerked suddenly.

"Well said," said Prosty, enjoying his colleague's discomfort.

"She could have been trying to betray Parean," said Kaell, recovering quickly. "She never sided with her brother. Perhaps she found out what Parean was doing. But she is dead and Parean will not talk."

"Yes, perhaps." agreed the High King. "Perhaps, perhaps. Parean said very little of importance to me when I questioned him. A very resolute young man. Did you not speak with him yourself, after I was finished?"

"Only briefly," said Kaell. "And only general questions, I did not find many details forthcoming. There was no time to interrogate him effectively. Other matters came up unexpectedly and the chance to question him again did not arise."

"I see. It has been a couple of weeks since he was captured, has it not? Resolve the situation soon. I'm sure he knows plenty. We cannot regain lost time. Gareth is unpredictable. Find out what Parean knows and inform me immediately. I just can't see what would turn such a person against me. He is well bred I believe."

"Yes he is," said Kaell. "But he seems confused. He may have believed he was doing the correct thing. He might tell us quite a bit if I can gain his trust."

"Do so." The High King stood up and his girth was covered in a blue robe that billowed out in the middle. He breathed heavily as he moved; his shortness of breath a popular source of mirth behind his back.

"What have you found about Gareth? Where is he?"

"We do not know yet," said Kaell. "But I will find out shortly."

"How? Never mind, I do not wish to know. But Gareth must be found. There has been too much silence from the rebels lately. I do not trust Gareth. He is becoming a folk hero. I do not like that and do not want it. And I may safely say that he is plotting some new devilment. I think we should move soon, before he has the chance to put his plans in motion."

Kaell looked at Prosty, whose eyebrow rose slightly.

"As it happens, Kaell and I had discussed such a possibility yesterday. It would be a fine idea to send troops after the rebels. Right to their main camp. We have a fair idea of its location. Eradicate them. Since we have only responded to their attacks in the past this would catch them unawares. It would be a tremendous victory. Very good, your Highness."

"Thank you. I shall leave the details to you as usual. Just be sure to send Horeth after Gareth. Horeth has much to answer for himself and I would offer him a chance to address his shortcomings. Now I must leave you to attend other matters. Mark me, Kaell. Find out what you need to know from Parean. I do not want to know how you do it, but I need to know what he knows. Get that information."

They rose as the High King left. Kaell started to speak but Prosty held up his hand.

"We shall discuss it later. First, go to Parean. We need any information he has to offer and be quick. Come to my quarters prior to dinner. The High King has shown a new side to him. He is far shrewder than I thought, even before the tonic. We must have our facts in order in case Michak still has teeth. I believe his eyesight is keen."

"What about his tonic?" The High King's tone shocked Kaell. "He needs his tonic."

"He has not taken it for at least three days. I happened to turn around as I was leaving him and I saw him throw it out."

"Is he suspicious of us?" asked Kaell.

"Difficult to say. But he is definitely in control of his mind again. He refuses the drink deliberately. Daura's influence I'm afraid. We must be careful until we find out what he believes the tonic was doing to him. It may be the difference between life and death."

Kaell slapped his hand on the wall, briefly grimacing and flexed his hand.

"You are a fool Prosty! You should have done something immediately. If he has stopped taking the potion, then he knows what we are up to. There is no other explanation. You have given him time to plan his defense against us. And who knows what agents he has watching us." Kaell looked around them, readying his magic. Prosty chuckled, shaking his head.

"And you are paranoid. He is a careful man. We shall see his pieces as he moves them into place. Very predictable. He would expect us to notice that the potion is no longer working and make a move. We must not rush things so the High King believes we do not care what he knows. He must believe we do not suspect he distrusts us."

"It's my neck, too. And I say we must move forward with our plan."

"We do not."

Kaell was angry and stomped down the hall. Prosty shook his head.

Prosty went to his room to relax before dinner.

High King Michak smiled when the door closed and he was out of sight of the wizards. He let out his breath in a noisy gush. He felt so much better in the past few days that he toyed with the idea of a diet. But luckily, he had other things to consider first and sat down to his lunch. If he had invited the wizards to dine, they would have been in awe of the feast laid out on the table. The High King considered his gluttony with minimal regret and then dived in. After he had disposed of the meddling Prosty and Kaell, he would slim down. He promised himself that he would and reached for another chicken leg. Perhaps more wine. He clapped for servants.

It had been nearly two months since Daura had first come to him (at great risk to herself for Kaell had spoken against her often which made his sudden support for her comical) and tried to convince him that the tonic Prosty prepared to control his weight was instead controlling his mind. Once he could grasp what she said he began to delay drinking the tonic until Prosty was out of sight. Then he would pour it in the bucket. His mind and body began to respond almost at once. He felt secure that his secret was safe.

Poor Daura, he thought to himself. It appears you risked all in warning me. And why did you warn me if you were a spy for your brother and the rebels? You seemed so much less fanatical than Gareth. Were you involved? Was Prosty correct? Did Parean kill you or did Kaell?

When he finished his meal and the servant came to remove it, a man named Janst entered with the servant. He moved smoothly, a little man of sinewy strength. His smile displayed a wide gap in his front teeth. He bowed low before the High King.

"Janst! How good to see you again." The High King frowned.

"The pleasure's mine your Highness. I believe you sent for me?"

"Yes. There are two wizards in my court who need looking after. They are devious and dangerous. I do not know the extent of their power."

"Kaell and Prosty?" asked Janst. He was a small wiry man, dark-skinned with bright white teeth. "It will be my pleasure. How soon do you need them disposed of?"

"Not so fast. I am in no rush. I also need to know who their accomplices are. If you kill them before I find out, I haven't gained much. Indeed, I shall be worse off because I won't know who my enemies are." He shook his head. Is everyone an idiot?

"I see your point, your Highness. How often should I report?"

"Only when there is something important. Oh, see if you can discreetly plant a seed of discord between them."

"When have I ever been indiscreet?"

"Never yet. Do not fail me now."

The small man bowed and departed. Wine, thought the High King. I have not had wine for so long. Was it only yesterday? He glanced at the jug on the table. Was it today?

Prosty could not wait in his quarters and after much pacing, he went to the dungeon. The screams were loud and then fell into a silence that clutched at Prosty and bothered him more than the screams. Finally, Kaell left the cell, walked slowly to the basin, and washed the blood from his hands. He had a strange expression and it unnerved Prosty. Kaell grinned but his eyes were vacant as if he had been in another place. Prosty coughed and turned away to recover himself.

"How goes it?" asked Prosty, as they walked back to his room.

"Fair." His voice was firm. "I have a general idea of the location of the rebels but he is still fighting very well. Gareth must have trained him personally, perhaps used his sorcery on him. Do you think Gareth uses it much? If not, then I underestimated Parean's strength. I will not do so tomorrow." They entered Prosty's room as servants were laying out food.

"Let's have dinner and discuss the attack plans." Prosty began to serve himself from the tray the servants had set out. Kaell sat down and grabbed an apple off the tray. He set it in front of himself.

"I don't think we should discuss that yet. We need to address the High King. He is a more immediate problem. Surely, he will move to dispose of us."

"I don't think so," said Prosty. "We are still too valuable to him. He needs us to destroy the rebels."

"Then he will kill us!" protested Kaell. "You don't understand the threat."

"There is no threat. I have another plan for the High King."

"What?" asked Kaell.

"No need for you to know."

"What?" He jumped up and turned the table over, sending the food to the stone floor.

"I don't know why I try to eat when you are here," said Prosty. "You can talk longer than anyone I have ever met and you allow yourself to get too worked up. And now you have spoiled the dinner."

"Did I stop you from eating?" Kaell snapped.

"But you didn't touch anything yourself. How could I have eaten?"

"You must not think of table manners at this point in your life. You have unmatched power. Why do you care about manners?"

"It must be my upbringing," replied Prosty. "My kind loving parents. Must have been hard to live with the fact that your parents despised you and abandoned you."

"They did not! They died. I was brought up by a kind old wizard."

"Your old wizard was a charlatan and you learned much from him, indeed. You are a disgrace to wizardry. You are a fool. That is why I am in command. My greater power and my true heritage as a wizard. You are a bastard in skill and in life."

Kaell clenched his fists and his teeth ground softly but he did not reply. He exhaled and drank some wine.

"One day you will go too far," said Kaell.

"Perhaps."

Kaell pulled his flute out of his robe and began to play. Sometimes Prosty enjoyed listening to his friend play but lately Kaell played strange new songs that set Prosty's nerves on edge. The tunes were not familiar and the notes dipped and rose awkwardly and were mostly shrill. Kaell smiled at Prosty's distress and played louder and Prosty left the room.