Authors: Gary Alan Wassner
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Genre Fiction, #Horror, #Dark Fantasy, #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Fantasy, #Sword & Sorcery
“And I could not think of a better idea!” Robyn replied.
“I had not realized just how hungry I was until you mentioned it,” Filaree said with an expectant grin upon her pretty face.
“I am beyond hungry! Though I am accustomed to fasting, I did not choose to do so this day,” Cairn said as they all stood up to follow the sisters out of tower.
Robyn lagged behind so that he could walk side by side with Davmiran, and they both allowed the others to file out before them.
He put his strong arm around the boy’s shoulders and hugged him close.
“You handled that like a master,” he said to him out of earshot of the rest of the group. “I had hoped to spare you, but I see now that I was unnecessarily concerned.”
“Are the Drue strong enough to keep him out of the hollows?” Davmiran asked.
“Yes, for now,” he replied. “But his power is growing as that of the Lalas fades. May the Gem of Eternity light the way for those brave sisters, wherever they may be headed,” Robyn replied. “I am more concerned right now about how he knew of the sisters’ flight. They were driven into the Forbidden Places most definitely. There are only a few possibilities to speculate upon, and each is harder to imagine than the next.”
“It could not have been anyone here who gave them away,” Davmiran affirmed. “I sense only loyalty and faithfulness among the sisters.”
“Further conjecture will only unsettle us all now,” Robyn said. “We have too much to do in too short a time. We cannot waste it worrying unnecessarily. In time, we will learn who has betrayed them.”
“And us!” the boy added and Robyn nodded in agreement. “What could the sisters be doing with the map?” he asked. “Where could Oleander have possibly asked them to take it that would provide it with more protection than the Tower of Parth did? I thought this was a sacred place, supported by the trees. Have things weakened so much so soon?” he questioned. “And who has constructed this unusual shield all around us?”
“The trees have grown fragile, Dav. Unfortunately, they most certainly have. Maybe the Lalas are worried that they can no longer guard it with certainty here, and thus they had them carry it to a safer shelter, though I can think of only a few such places. As to the shield, it bears a familiar touch and I have my suspicions, but until I am certain, I will not venture to speculate out loud. I do know, with no uncertainty, that we must begin your training at once! Time is running short. I have never felt this as poignantly as I do this very moment. You have much to learn before we leave here.”
“Yes, I know too. I feel so anxious inside, as if I am standing upon the edge of something, but I cannot see into the darkness ahead. Each step seems so incredibly important,” he replied reflectively. “And Robyn…” he said a bit more anxiously, “…the ring is no longer silent either.”
“How does it speak to you, Dav?” he asked, attempting to hide his surprise.
“In images; bits and pieces, though unlike the shards. I cannot quite explain it. The shards present images to me too, but the ring speaks as if it was me! It guides my thoughts while the shards simply show me things. Does that make any sense?” he asked.
“Yes, in a way. While you lay unconscious in Seramour, I joined with your ring myself in Pardatha. I think I know what you are saying, though I was not fully conscious either at the time. I knew then that it was not mine to keep and that it rightfully belonged to you. But it harbored tremendous power, and it guided me in the way it is guiding you now, I believe. Take comfort in it. It will serve you well in the days to come.”
“I am fortunate that you were picked to be one of my teachers,” he smiled and squeezed the older man’s arm.
“I am fortunate as well,” he replied earnestly.
“Are you going to join us or not?” an impatient voice shouted from the hallway. “I do not know about you…” Filaree said to Davmiran and Robyn, “…but I must put some food into my body soon if I am going to be able to train anyone in the near future! Do you two think you could hurry it up a bit?”
“Patience, my Lady, patience!” Robyn replied. “We are right behind you! I know better than to cross you when your belly is empty,” he yelled back, as he guided Davmiran out the door.
Chapter Twenty-four
“Get up!” Fobush ordered. “Though I would like to leave you here, as you well deserve, I swore allegiance many tiels ago to your parents, and out of respect for them, I cannot! Now get up off of this floor and walk with me through these doors, or by the First, I will carry you like a child over my shoulders!” he yelled.
Kettin stood up slowly and sheepishly in the comer of his bedchamber.
“Put this on. You look foolish in your sleeping gown. It is bad enough that you have dirtied the family name with your actions. At the least, when you leave here, do so with a bit of dignity,” he said disdainfully, and he threw a tunic to the cowering young man.
Kettin turned his back on the general and like a small child, he slipped what he was wearing over his head and put the fresh clothing on. Fobush kicked a pair of boots over toward him and tossed a cape and a belt his way as well.
“Hurry up!” he commanded. “If you wish to stem the flow of citizens out of the city, you must do so immediately or there will shortly be no one left. They have physically deserted you as readily as you deserted your principles it seems. In the absence of your ‘surrogate’…” he found if difficult to utter Margot’s name, she was so distasteful to him, “…they have also abandoned their allegiance to you as quickly as you did your own honor,” he derided him.
Kettin finished putting on his clothing and he walked over to his dressing table in the comer. He pushed the implements around with his hands until he located the box, opened it, and slipped his ring upon his index finger. He rummaged through the other items searching for something that seemed to be quite important to him.
“We have so little time left. What are you doing?” Fobush asked with angry impatience.
“My medallion! I must find my medallion!” Kettin cried.
“Rings and necklaces? Those are the things you are thinking about now?” he asked, astonished at the young Duke’s foolishness.
“I have to find it! I cannot leave without it!” Kettin said, growing more frantic with each passing moment.
He was pushing things off of the table now and tossing them carelessly to the ground. He broke a frame and a porcelain container in the process, and he was flinging papers and documents in all directions. Suddenly, his fingers clasped a blackened silver amulet from which a heavy chain dangled, and he lifted it up gleefully before his eyes. Like a man possessed, he quickly placed it over his head and let it hang upon his chest. Immediately, the color returned to his cheeks. His back was to Fobush at this time so that the man could not see how his eyes darkened and how his expression changed. Keeping his movements hidden, he slipped a small dagger that lay upon the table under his cuff and then turned toward the door.
“Ah,” he sighed to himself. “I am ready now,” he said in a still frightened voice, though the look in his eye belied a different emotion. Fobush was still so exasperated by the young Lord’s behavior and so preoccupied by the tumultuous events of the day that he paid scant attention to his expressions.
“I suggest that you speak to those who still remain as quickly as possible. Perhaps you can persuade some of them to stay at least. If not, you may find yourself the ruler of a barren city, if you are even able to continue as the ruler at all,” he spat the words.
“That is a good idea. You have always advised me well, Fobush,” he replied thoughtfully as he turned around. “I must have lost my senses before. You know that I have not been well? The illness has taken its toll upon me. I scarcely recognize myself.”
“Forgive me, Kettin, but I have little patience left for this. Muster whomever you can whilst you still can, and spare me the explanations. They are too little and too late for me,” he replied.
The young Duke grabbed a voluminous black cape from the nearby wardrobe and flung it around his shoulders. He walked toward the other man and smiled as if he had behaved honorably all the while and had not cringed in the corner like a frightened animal only moments ago.
“Surely you understand, Fobush? I have been through so much. For the sake of my parents, will you not stand by my side?” he pleaded. “It has been so difficult for me.”
“You shame the memory of your father and mother!” he turned and shouted. “Your actions these past weeks were unforgivable. Invoking the names of those more noble than yourself will not alter how I feel. The damage is irreparable. You are wasting your efforts here.” By this time, Kettin stood directly beside his Master at Arms. “When this episode is over, I shall tender my resignation and seek other service. I can no longer serve the house of Dumas.”
Kettin feigned dismay and drew his cape tightly around himself. He hung his head as if Fobush’s words had physically stricken him.
“I never thought I would hear this from you, of all people,” he replied. “Can it be so? Would you abandon me at my weakest moment? I have sinned, I admit it. I have committed grievous actions against my people and against you!” he lamented, though he eyed him craftily all the while. “But I can change. It was that woman, Lady Margot! She is to blame,” he continued. “Will you not reconsider? Give me another chance?”
He seemed so forlorn and so pathetic that it was almost cruel to be so harsh with him. Fobush was a retainer to whom loyalty had always been endemic, and it pained him to have made the statements he made. Though he had always been honest and forthright, he was mindful of the sentiments of those he commanded and of those who commanded him. His mind was awash in confusion, and he was suddenly unsure of what was the right thing to do. Kettin has sidled up to him like a young colt to its mare, and he looked at the elder man closely. The medallion glowed silver-black upon his chest, though Fobush was too preoccupied to notice.
“What have you to say? Can I count upon you as always?” he appealed earnestly. “Please Fobush, I have never needed you as much as I do this very moment. Do not forsake me,” he pleaded. “Think of the people! Think of Talamar! There is much damage to repair and as usual, you have shown me the light. Will you not now stand by my side and guide me as you have e’er done?”
Kettin smiled slyly, though Fobush did not see him do so. The old soldier’s mind was consumed with thoughts of duty and commitment, and he was suddenly awash in feelings of guilt. He thought of the boy’s father, the late Duke, and his years of service to the family. He felt the hand of his frightened Lord grasp him around the shoulder and he was touched by the sentiment. He raised his eyes to the young leader, and he was about to acknowledge his acceptance of his responsibility and to reconfirm his loyalty. He had decided to help him one more time. Maybe Kettin could still redeem himself and regain his honor. Perhaps it really was not altogether his fault.
Fobush was completely unaware of Kettin as he silently withdrew the dagger from the folds of his cloak, never suspecting the treachery that was to be his fate. His thoughts were upon the young man’s welfare and his own sense of duty and sacrifice. He had no opportunity to defend himself against the assault. With deadly accuracy and no remorse, Kettin plunged the cold, sharp blade deep into the old man’s heart, and then he twisted it sharply to make sure that he would not survive. Fobush slumped into the Duke’s arms, as his life blood poured out from the gaping wound in his chest. In shock and disbelief, he looked into the eyes of his killer. Kettin backed away as soon as he was certain that the wound was fatal, and he carelessly let Fobush’s limp body fall to the floor.
“So trusting. So easily fooled,” he said aloud. “All these months, so easily fooled,” he mocked.
Kettin straightened his cape and tunic and looked into the polished glass that hung upon the wall. He ran his fingers through his hair and stood before the mirror admiring himself, while never once even gazing at the man bleeding out beside him upon the carpet.
“This truly was enjoyable. I will miss this,” he remarked as the image in the polished glass before him began to quiver and fade.
Kettin’s features blurred as if his face was merely a tablet that had been wiped clean of the markings upon it. Within seconds, the transformation was complete; the illusion was terminated. Satisfied, Margot turned her head away from the mirror and toward Fobush just in time to witness his final gasp of breath, and then she smiled an evil and gratified smile. She opened the large door of the nearby wardrobe and with one hand, she grabbed the collar of the Duke’s shirt and dragged him out and to the side of his now dead aide. She let go of him and he collapsed heavily upon the rug. His lips were cracked and bleeding from the gag that was stuffed into his mouth, and his wrists were blackened and bruised, burned and cut by the coarse ropes. His eyes were opened wider than it seemed possible and panic was written all over them.
“Thank you for giving me your city, my love,” she said in a sugary-sweet voice. “And your soul,” she hissed. “Now it is time for you to share your parent’s fate.”
She bent down and kissed him on the cheek and the terror in his eyes enhanced her pleasure even further. Margot backed away from the two bodies and gazed out of the window. Kettin thrashed and bounced upon the floor, but he might as well have not been there as far as she was concerned. She could see the last of the people still fleeing the city, and she watched with an evil glee as the looters and scavengers began to pilfer what remained in Talamar. They scurried around, filling their bulging sacks with candlesticks and teapots, jewelry and flatware; all of the coveted implements that seemed so valuable to their owners only days ago, and had now been fecklessly abandoned in their haste to escape.
“They think the Knights will save them,” she scoffed. “Let them run to Avalain. It will not be long before it too succumbs. I could not have asked for more! Now they have truly given their city to me, and I so appreciate the gift!”
She raised her right arm, summoned a ball of yellow fire and hurled it into the corner. It quickly ignited the heavy draperies that hung upon the walls and began to spread slowly across the thick, woolen carpets.
“Farewell, my love,” she mocked Kettin as she shut the door behind herself. “Stay warm!”
She turned around and stood and faced the doorway before walking down the hall, and she ran her fingers around the thin gap between the wood and the stone of the wall. As she did so, she fused the frame shut with a hot, blue light that emanated from her fingertips. By the time she emerged into the open space of the courtyard, she was thoroughly pleased with herself.
“This will be most enjoyable,” she muttered as she walked toward the grove of polong trees that had supplied the castle with oil year round. “I so love the irony of it all,” she said as she incinerated the first tree with a ball of yellow fire. The oil laden tree burst into flame and exploded in an ear shattering boom that shook the entire courtyard. It rained burning droplets of fire upon everything in a two hundred yard radius. Those few thieves who still remained in the city nearly jumped out of their scabrous boots at the sound. “What has sustained this city for so many tiels shall now be the means by which it dies,” she laughed. “A fitting end to Talamar.”
One by one, she ignited the trees that lined the yard, and each one mushroomed with fire, sending flaming oil high into the air all around. Whatever else the oil fell upon too erupted into flame, until fire could be seen everywhere. By this time, no one remained within the city to extinguish the fires so they burned out of control and spread with a rapacious speed.
She bent down upon one knee and raised her face to the sky. The medallion around her neck glowed with an intense black light and illuminated her entire head.
“I claim this place in the name of Colton dar Agonthea, Lord of Darkness, Master of Destiny! May you join the other dead places upon this earth. Let this be Talamar’s first step on the pathway to dissolution. No one will live here ever again!” she bellowed.
The fires burned brighter and the buildings collapsed upon themselves in a cauldron of ruin and destruction. The heat was unbearable, but Margot felt nothing. The earth trembled with the fall of each edifice and the sidewalks cracked and flew apart. Black smoke rose high into the air, and it blocked out what sunlight still illuminated the dying city. What had once been the castle tower now lay in ruins before the broken and incinerated gates. Papers blew everywhere, flying up and down as if immune to the fires, and the dust of death choked the breath from even the lowliest of beasts who still remained amidst the devastation.
Well done, Margot, well done
, a voice boomed inside her head.
She collapsed upon the ground prostrate, with her arms and legs extended.
It is a shame you failed previously in your attempt to capture the sisters
, it continued in a sugary-sweet voice.
Such a hollow victory it must be for you here
, he said as if genuinely saddened for her.
“Yes, master. It is. I am sorry I failed you before. They escaped into the pit and were assisted by the beasts within,” she expounded feebly.
Was that an excuse, Margot?
he asked, as innocently as could be.
“No, Master. Just an explanation is all. I have no excuse for not carrying out your orders,” she replied as she cowered before his words.
Her entire body ached to please him. She could think of nothing other than making him happy, and knowing that she was unable to do what he had asked her to do literally caused her physical pain. She cringed beneath it.
No excuse at all
, he replied so kindly, though the malevolence seethed just below the surface.
“No, Master. No excuse at all,” she sobbed, frightened and drained.
You have given me Talamar, Margot. That will suffice for now
, he said in a satisfied tone.
The elation that coursed through her body at his praise was immeasurable. She was ecstatic and so thoroughly mesmerized by him that she could barely breathe.
You will not let me down me the next time, will you?
he asked, and his voice caressed her soul like a velvet glove upon her skin.
There are others who clamor for the chance to replace you. If not for the disappointment it causes me, they would savor another failure on your part, knowing it would be your last
, he said so calmly and soothingly that the tone veiled the mortal threat the words represented.