The Tomb of the Dark Paladin (44 page)

The witch cast spell after spell at the specter of the Dark Paladin. Fireballs sailed harmlessly through him and magical darts soared past with no effect. The dark witch even cast a
screaming skull
spell at the knight, its hideous shrieking causing Carym's head to blaze in pain. The ghost finally reached the witch, grabbed her by her black robes, and hurled her across the chamber, slamming her body into the stone wall.

"Your pitiful sorcery cannot harm me, witch; I am dead!" the powerful voice rumbled through the chamber. Frantically the witch stumbled to her feet and fled from the advancing knight.

Carym noticed Zach hiding near the statue of Umber, invisible to the attention of the Dark Paladin. He didn't know what to do. He wanted to flee, but he didn't know what Balzath and Zach were planning. He remembered Zach saying he was going to destroy the device, he must have meant Fyrendi's Home. Was that the reason for the circles of power and protection? What were they hoping to accomplish by destroying that here? The loss of such a wonderful device would be terrible. 

Zach stood in the shadow of Umber's statue, reverently holding the box that was Fyrendi's Home. Were they trying to destroy Mathonry? That ancient knight didn't seem to reside there anyway; he was rarely ever there. Despite his promises to help Carym become a powerful Fyrbold, the spirit had been a disappointment to Carym.

Then, Carym saw the Dark Paladin stop suddenly in mid-stride, forgetting the witch. The Dark Paladin looked differently now than when he had appeared to Carym earlier. He was ghastly, hideous; starkly different from the human looking visage worn earlier. The once noble knight now radiated darkness and dread much as he did while he was alive. His face was barely visible from the depths of a dark hood. What Carym could see, however, was terrible to behold. The hood fell back revealing a horrid face, little more than mottled skin wrapped tightly over a skull. His eyes were lidless, the eyeballs decaying and brown. The knight's nose was naught but an empty hole, and his lipless mouth revealed rotted yellow teeth.

The dead knight slowly turned his visage as though noticing the brigand for the first time. Although the skull-like face could bear no expression, Carym sensed a tangible fear coming from the Dark Paladin, he wondered if it were even possible for him to feel fear. Zach leaned out over the waters of the pool, holding the device just above the shimmering waves. Out of the corner of his eye, Carym saw the witch scurry away.

"No!" the knight thundered. "You cannot release him!" Why didn't he want the spirit of Mathonry to be released? Mathonry didn't seem evil to Carym. He was an early member of the Zuharim, one of the First Paladin's men in fact. Carym was perplexed. He knew he should leave now, but found himself drawn to the scene at the water's edge.

The Dark Paladin grabbed Zach by the collar causing Zach to drop the box into the Everpool. In the instant it took for the device to fall beneath the surface of the pristine waters, it felt as though he had been struck in the chest with a plank and could not breathe. Time slowed to a crawl, and he knew in that moment that something terrible was about to happen.

The once evil knight hurled Zach bodily across the chamber and he landed heavily near Carym, blood on his head. The water in the Everpool immediately erupted into a boiling mass of steam and hot spray. Carym tried to help Zach as the Dark Paladin strode angrily to the water's edge, watching intently. It seemed to Carym the knight's shoulders slumped just a little, perhaps a sign of defeat. Then a sword and a shield appeared in his hands and he took a fighting stance, prepared to do battle once more. 

"Get away from me, Carym!" growled Zach painfully. "I have chosen my path!"

"Let me help you up!" pleaded Carym, acutely aware that time was ticking. He knew he should leave, yet he found it hard to abandon his lifelong friend.

"You owe me nothing and I want nothing from you!"

"I owe you my life, Zach. Many times over. What happened to you?"

"Enough questions. I have chosen my new lord and it is not Zuhr. Consider this your last warning, a final gift to you as a friend. Take your tome and go before I am forced to take your life. I serve the Shadow now, and I will do it gladly."

How could Zach have gone this far into the darkness? He was dumbstruck. 

"The dagger," hissed Carym, ready to destroy it in the Everpool. "Where is it?"

"Do not touch it!" came a dangerous reply. Carym knew that the command was also a warning, touching it may prove as deadly to Carym as his old friend. "It has opened up a world of power for me."

"A world of death, you mean!"

"Fool," laughed Zach. "Your time is short."

"Zach--"

"Zach is dead. Gone. You may tell your god that Umester, the son of Umber, has been freed from his prison. The spawn of the Shadow has returned to the world and with him comes a new era!" Zach sat up and leaned against the pedestal that previously displayed the Tome of Sigils. He nodded toward the pool. The once peaceful waters had become anything but and he thought he could feel a sickness growing in it. Steam rose from the roiling surface, hot spray washed Balzath's circles from the white floor, and a putrid smell wafted through the air. Slowly, horribly, a figure began to take shape in the swirling waters.

"When he emerges from the water, Carym, he will sense the tome's presence and you will die."

"Umester?" he said weakly, his hopes unraveling before his eyes. "Umester?"

Zach cast a scornful glance at his old friend. "Umester," he said with finality. Carym's mind was spinning. The son of the Dark Lord Umber, a fearsome and devious spirit more diabolical even than the Dark Paladin had been. He had been locked away long, long, ago. But where?

"Did you know?" he demanded suddenly. But Zach said nothing, he only watched the water in anticipation. Zach was his friend no longer. The depth of this betrayal shook him to his core.

Zach. Mathonry.

"Did you know that was not Mathonry?" he demanded, shaken. He knew the answer as he spoke the question. "That it was Umester all along?" Still, Zach said nothing.

He stumbled away from his friend. All along, during their entire journey through the Underllars and even into the lands of Baron Tyrannus, Carym had been inadvertently feeding Umester with his plans, his whereabouts, his goals. All the training, all the studying, had been given him by Umester! Umester, the dark spawn of the dark god. It was he who had been locked away in Fyrendi's Home. Had Mathonry had ever been there?

"What can you possibly gain from all this?" Carym said dully, his mind reeling,

"Power beyond reckoning. Immortality," said Zach simply. Carym wanted to be sick. He began looking for a way out.

"You have become a slave, Zach. I grieve for the loss of your soul."

"The next time we meet, I will not hesitate to kill you." Zach rolled away from Carym, climbing to his feet clutching his dagger tightly. Zach was gone, replaced by this person Carym did not know. He prayed the old Zach was still there, buried deeply within the shell that remained. It grew cold in the chamber and a sense of urgency returned as the Dark Paladin's shape began to shift. Something was happening to him as well; he was beginning to look more corporeal, less ethereal.

His face became more discernible and Carym saw the look of peaceful resolve on his now human, flesh covered, face. The once dark knight looked toward Carym from across the chamber and projected his thoughts into Carym's mind. 

Carym, Servant of Zuhr, you must leave now. Go and bring the news of this day to the Hand. Let them know that Umester, son of Umber, has come to Llars and doom follows! It is my privilege to fight this vile spawn of darkness; it is my penance!

"What of Mathonry?" Carym asked aloud, but quietly.

Mathonry died long ago, before my reign as the Dark Paladin began. Alas, had he been at my side, things would have been different. he was not a Cjii as you were led to believe. Go! The fiend comes now!

"My Lord, please take your weapons so that you can slay him!" pleaded Carym.

I learned my place long ago, Carym. I am unworthy to wield those powerful weapons, they will be better served with the Knights of the Sword of Zuhr. Make no mistake: Umester is the son of Umber! He will kill me, and he will kill you if you do not flee! You must escape and bring news of Umester's release, I will delay him as long as I can!

"My Lord--"

"GO!" the knight thundered aloud.

"Are you still here?" Zach asked dryly. Hollow eyes fixed his Carym with a dark stare. Carym gave his friend one last look, but Zach merely returned his attention to the churning waters of the Everpool and the human knight who now stood at its edge. "The time has come, Carym; my Lord awakens and you have tarried," Zach reported calmly.

Carym saw the top of a head break through the surface of the now black and putrid water, the odors of sulfur and brimstone filling the air. A grinning face appeared and looked straight at him. "Mathonry," he whispered to himself. Was nothing right in this world? The Tides were troubled, tainted, sick. He tried to sense them, to feel what was happening through them but it felt as though the sickness were spreading into his own body. The waters in the pool were churning now as the form of the one whom he thought was his mentor took shape. His heart sank and despair took him. Anger and despair. He latched onto the anger, vowing to take his revenge but knowing it must be later.

"You bastard," whispered Carym to his old friend, the depth of his duplicity fully apparent. Zach shrugged and stepped away from the pool, seemingly unperturbed that his liege-lady, Balzath, was nowhere to be seen.

Carym needed no further urging, he turned and ran as fast as his legs would carry him back toward the exit, his heart heavy.

Carym tried to retrace his route as best he could back to Hala but it was difficult to see in the dusky twilight. He was relieved to have saved the Tome from the hands of the enemy but was far from free of them. There could still a number of scouts or enemy patrols about. He tried not to think about Zach's unfortunate choices, it was all he could do to put aside harsh feelings of his best friend's betrayal.

Carym hurried down the mountainside fearful of Umester's minions. He knew he had to get the book to safety. Overwhelming thoughts of futility and emotional despair invaded his mind, slowing his steps. It seemed impossible that he could escape Umester's minions with the Tome. Perhaps it might be wiser to leave it somewhere or to surrender.

Just as Carym slowed his pace to stop and leave the Tome behind, a blistering cold breeze gusted against him, pelting him with small pebbles, leaves and dirt. The shock of the gust and the resulting stinging welts alerted Carym to what was coming. The minions of the Shadowfyr were doubtless planting these thoughts of hopelessness in mind.

He steeled himself and carried on.

Carym reached the bottom quickly and ran as fast and as hard as he could toward the last place he had seen his companions. He burst into the clearing, sliding to a stop on blood slick earth, breathing hard. Carym scanned the clearing as he took a moment to catch his breath; he saw the corpses of a number of oroks and a swath of devastation that could only have been caused by Bart's powerful lightning storm. A pile of bones and pieces of armor marked the death place of Hessan the Headless Rider, and for that Carym was pleased, but his friends were not there.

Suddenly a voice thundered in his mind, rocking his senses: 
I am coming for you!
 it said. Dread filled his soul. The dark prince was coming for him! Not knowing where his friends had gone, Carym just ran and prayed he would find them, the voice of his tormentor relentless in his mind. 

Carym didn't know how long he had been running, only that he had covered a significant amount of ground. The constant barrage of emotional and mental assaults on his soul had been relentless, only diminishing as he outdistanced his pursuers. Thankfully, there had been no further encounters with the dark and angry spirits of those men who had been damned to follow their lord into an eternity within the tomb. 

Deep in the forest he slid to a stop to catch his breath, leaning on the silvery trunk of a birch tree. He was glad for the reprieve from those woeful mental assaults, yet he knew it couldn't last. Umester certainly had a very good measure of Carym's personality and would use that knowledge to the fullest advantage.