Thinblade (14 page)

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Authors: David Wells

Tags: #Epic, #Fantasy, #General, #Fiction

BOOK: Thinblade
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He looked at her as if he were seeing right through her. Then, with a smile that could only be described as lewd, he asked, “Have you ever been with a man?”

Dora blushed furiously while struggling to compose herself. She opened her mouth as if to speak but nothing came out. Phane smiled like he was watching a bug squirm on the end of his knife. “Well?” he asked with a slight edge to his voice.

“No,” she finally stuttered. She looked like she would rather be anywhere else.

Phane smiled even more broadly, a boyish, innocent smile that looked like joy itself. “Excellent, bring another bottle of wine just like this one to my quarters in an hour.”

Jataan P’Tal didn’t think her face could turn any more red than it was but he was wrong. He could clearly see the wild terror dancing in her eyes as he watched Phane toy with her.

She managed to murmur, “Yes, My Prince,” before she turned and fled without closing the door.

Phane chuckled to himself while he worked the cork loose from the bottle of wine and poured half of it into the oversized silver goblet. He held the goblet almost reverently as he swirled the wine for a moment while breathing deeply of its bouquet. He chuckled to himself again before taking a long drink. Jataan stood quietly and watched him savor his wine.

Phane looked up abruptly as if Jataan’s presence had interrupted his reverie. “I will be sending a little surprise for the Rebel Mage’s puppet. I expect that he will not escape this time. However, I must be sure, so I’m sending you as well.” Phane looked intently at Jataan P’Tal’s impassive face for a reaction.

Jataan P’Tal was the General Commander of the Reishi Protectorate. He had risen to the post by setting his feelings and opinions aside in favor of a single-minded devotion to the protection of the Reishi line. He didn’t hesitate.

“I will make arrangements to leave in the morning.”

Phane nodded slowly before taking another drink from his goblet. “I don’t expect he will live through tomorrow night but I need to be sure, and I have another reason for sending you.” He looked up at Jataan as he poured the rest of the bottle into the goblet. “I need you to bring me his head, especially the part of his neck that was marked by the Rebel Mage’s spell. I may be able to glean some information of value from it.

“If he is able to elude death before he reaches Glen Morillian, you will have to go in and kill him there. Take what men you need. I’ll send Kludge with any new orders, and, Commander P’Tal, I will be watching.” Phane smiled ever so slightly at Jataan P’Tal’s almost imperceptible reaction.

The General Commander saluted, fist to heart. “It will be done, My Prince.”

An hour later Phane lounged comfortably in the overstuffed chair in his personal chambers. He whistled to himself while he waited for the serving girl. Kludge sat on top of a bookshelf eating a rat. Phane smiled when he heard the timid knock at his door.

He reached out with his magic to feel for her fear. It was palpable. He could sense it even through the door. She would do well.

He took a deep breath, got up and strolled to the door. She was trembling. How delicious, he thought. Phane looked her up and down, very deliberately, and smiled his most lascivious smile. “Please, do come in.” The words dripped off his tongue.

Dora hesitated as she held out the bottle and goblet, still trembling and clearly terrified. She looked like a trapped animal who wanted to run for her life.

Phane cocked his head and let his smile slip away. She shrank away from his look and meekly entered the room, heading straight for the table. He closed the door and bolted it while looking over his shoulder at the young woman. She jumped at the sound of the bolt being thrown but didn’t falter. She went to the table, opened the wine and filled the goblet. When she was finished, she carefully positioned herself so the table was between her and Phane.

“If there’s nothing else, My Prince, I’ll leave you to your wine.” She stood, eyes on the table, waiting for his dismissal. Phane simply stared at her until she looked up timidly.

“Oh, but there is…” He smiled at her trembling. “I have something very special in mind for you tonight.”

“Please, My Prince, may I go to my quarters now?” She sobbed slightly.

Phane soaked up her fear. He drew it in and savored it. “No.” He pronounced it like a sentence.

She started to protest but he cut her off. “Come with me. Leave the wine.” Then he turned and went to a door leading from his well-appointed main room.

She followed hesitantly. He could still feel her fear. How exquisite this would be.

He led her into a perfectly circular room of bare stone about forty feet across. In the center of the floor was a double-ringed circle of inlaid gold with complicated symbols inlaid in silver packed into the six inches between each gold ring.

Dora stood at the threshold of the door, clearly confused.

“What? You thought I was going to take you to my bed?” Phane shook his head in mock disappointment, then suddenly snatched the front of her dress and ripped it clear down to her waist, exposing her breasts and causing her fear to spike into panic. She tried to back out of the room and away from Phane but he grabbed her by the wrist, jerked her past him and tossed her to the floor. He threw the bolt on the door and cast a simple binding spell to prevent it from being opened.

“Oh no, my dear, you won’t enjoy the comforts of my bed this night.” When he strolled past her, she skittered away from him toward the door. He regarded her calmly while she struggled but failed to unbolt the door. “I’m afraid there is no escape, my dear.”

Phane began his spell. He chanted a dark and guttural incantation over and over again.

Dora sat with her back to the door and sobbed with her arms wrapped around her knees to cover her exposed breasts.

The air within the circle began to darken until it took on the consistency of black smoke. Then it got darker, more opaque, and substantial. It whirled slowly in a column that stretched nearly to the vaulted ceiling. The light of the lamps that ringed the room seemed to be soaked up by the swirling vortex of darkness, dimming the entire room. Phane continued to chant. The darkness grew to fill the circle.

When Dora saw a pair of hateful yellow eyes looking out of the inky blackness at her, she screamed. She could just make out the shape of a giant wolf's head in the dark. And it was staring right at her. She wanted to scream again but she was frozen with terror.

Phane abruptly stopped chanting. Two more pairs of eyes appeared, all staring at Dora. Her fear had transformed into a visceral, breathless panic. She was frozen by the deadly glare of the now three sets of hateful yellow eyes looking right at her from out of the inky blackness.

“I bind you to my will!” Phane spoke the words of command with such force that Dora could feel the power of his pronouncement echo in her chest. All three sets of eyes turned at once to Phane. He smiled tightly.

“Take form on the Isle of Ruatha. Hunt Alexander Valentine and kill him. He was last known to be in the vicinity of Southport. These are my commands.” Prince Phane’s voice reverberated around the circular room.

As one, the three nether wolves howled. It was a sound that no living thing could make. Dora screamed again and shut her eyes tightly.

Phane smiled at her as he reached out for her with his magic. She felt a viselike grip around her ankle but could see nothing there. She screamed again with renewed panic when the invisible grip started dragging her slowly toward the circle and the darkness and the hateful eyes. She struggled for her life, kicking and begging, but Phane’s spell pulled her toward her doom.

When her leg entered the circle, the jaws of the nearest nether wolf snatched her by the ankle and jerked her into the swirling darkness. She screamed and wailed as the three beasts tore her apart and devoured her. When her screaming died out, the slowly whirling column of blackness began to fade. In just moments the air cleared and the room brightened. There was nothing left of Dora except a few scraps of her dress and the stain of her blood on the floor.

Prince Phane nodded in satisfaction and started whistling as he turned toward the door.

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 13

 

 

 

 

 

Alexander woke to the smell of breakfast cooking. For a moment he almost forgot where he was. In that in-between state, not quite asleep, not quite awake, he almost thought he was back at Valentine Manor in his very comfortable bed, but only for a moment.

Reality hit him suddenly and just as suddenly he was wide awake. Abigail was just rousing in the farm hand’s bunk on the other side of the small room. Alexander’s bed was lumpy and uncomfortable but the blankets were warm and it beat sleeping on the ground. He sat up and stretched. Abigail came fully awake with a start. She sat up, quickly looking for trouble. Seeing that there was none, she flopped back onto her pillow with a groan.

Alexander smiled gently. “Good morning. Smells like breakfast is about ready.”

She groaned again and waved him off. Abigail was not a morning person and Alexander knew it. He’d teased her about it often enough when they were children. That time seemed so long ago. He suddenly felt a stab of guilt for every unkind thing he’d ever done to her. She was his sister and quite possibly the only family he had left.

“I’ll keep a plate warm for you,” he said quietly before he left the little room.

Everyone else was already up and about. Lucky sat at the table slathering a fresh biscuit with thick blackberry jam. Anatoly stood at the window looking out over the fields, while nursing a mug of steaming hot black tea. Jack and Owen were bustling around in the kitchen preparing breakfast.

Alexander got himself a cup of tea and took a seat at the table next to Lucky.

“Good morning, my boy,” Lucky said around a mouthful of biscuit. The old alchemist was as cheerful as ever. Alexander marveled at how easily Lucky could find delight in the smallest things. He supposed it was a talent that his tutor had cultivated for many years.

Breakfast was hearty and filling. They had skillet-fried potatoes, spicy sausage, scrambled eggs, and fresh biscuits with jam and butter. There was more than enough for everyone to eat their fill and then some. Jack seemed to be in his element, playing host and ensuring that his guests were well fed. Owen followed his lead with practiced ease.

When everyone had stopped eating, except Lucky, Anatoly stood. Before he could say a word, Lucky sighed in resignation and nodded up at his old friend.

“I suppose it’s about time we were on our way.” He took one more biscuit before he too stood.

“Jack, I’d like to take a look at the horses, if I may.” Anatoly was clearly anxious to get moving. He seemed to be on edge, as if he could feel their hunters closing in. His tension was contagious and soon Alexander started to feel an urgent need to be on the road as well.

“Of course, we might as well take the saddlebags out to the stables on our way,” he said motioning to the five sets of saddlebags piled next to the door that were already loaded with food and traveling supplies. Anatoly nodded to the bard and scooped up two sets of the fully loaded leather bags and threw one over each shoulder.

Not half an hour later the five of them were mounted on their horses. It was a clear morning and the wind was still. It would be a good day for traveling. Owen stood at the stable gate as they said their farewells to the bard’s jovial apprentice.

“I expect I’ll be two or three days behind you with Master Lucky’s wagon and your horses. By the end of the week, we’ll all be safe in Glen Morillian and enjoying the hospitality of the Forest Warden’s table.” He gave a wink and a nod to Lucky.

“Thank you, Owen. Be safe in your journey. If you meet trouble on the road and need to travel more quickly than my wagon can carry you, there’s a leather bag under the buckboard. The contents of that bag are the most important to me. Everything else can be replaced.” Lucky shook hands with Owen and the party was off.

The forest was a good two days’ travel to the north if they stuck to the road, but Anatoly and Alexander both reasoned that the Reishi would have men along the road searching for them. While slower, it would be far safer to travel parallel to the road through the farm fields that stretched from Southport to the forest.

They made reasonably good time over the uneven ground. More importantly, they didn’t come across anyone but a few farm hands here and there and they were more interested in preparing the fields for planting than in anything else.

After a full day of uneventful travel, Alexander was starting to feel the sense of urgency fade. Maybe they would make it to Glen Morillian without drawing the attention of the Reishi Protectorate. He didn’t really believe that but he took comfort in the possibility.

They found a depression in the rolling landscape and made camp for the night. It was an ideal spot that offered protection from the wind and shielded their small fire from view. The night was clear and cold and the little cook fire offered welcome warmth.

After a meal of camp stew and hard biscuits, they began to lay out their bedrolls. Alexander was tired from the long day of travel but he was feeling optimistic. A little voice in the back of his mind was beginning to wonder what they would do once they reached the forest city, but he shoved it away. He had enough to worry about in the present. Tomorrow’s problems could wait until then.

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