Trials (34 page)

Zecly smiled. “My dear General, as you know very well, Mirkos the Scholar is not just any Mage. His power is great, as is his intelligence. In order to beat him we must use cunning, and not brute force. No matter how many waves of men you send against that wall, you’ll do no more than erode it. Yes, in the end it will fall, but it will take time and many men.”

“There’s no more time!” shouted Mulko in a fury. “The Great Emperor Malotas himself has sent me a letter making plain his unease at the delay in the invasion of Rogdon. He expects Silanda to fall immediately, as the first step in the conquest. And that means that if it doesn’t fall he’ll ask for my head on a platter. The city must fall, now! Is that understood? Now!”

Zecly rose to his feet and went to Sumal’s side.

“We’ll take charge, my lord. The city will be yours. Tonight!”

It was midnight when the casting of the Great Spell began. Sumal, wholly absorbed, watched one of the most incredible and frightening spectacles a man could ever imagine. In front of the great door of the second Rogdonian wall, out of reach of enemy arrows, three Nocean Sorcerers had begun to invoke the terrible Curses Magic. Sumal recognized Isos, the Great Master, in the center, escorted by the two others. Sitting around them in a circle, a dozen acolytes had put their bodies at the service of their masters. Sumal could almost feel the magical energy of the acolytes as it was consumed in order to bring the effect of the Great Spell into being.

Behind them, twenty-five thousand Nocean soldiers were waiting restlessly for the order to attack the wall. They were armed to their teeth and wearing long tunics in shades of blue and black over dark pants and were protected by chainmail which reached down to their thighs. Over chest and back they wore armor decorated with the golden sun-emblem of the Noceans. Their heads were covered with round helmets which bore a sharp spike a hand’s-breadth high. They were ready for action, but Sumal knew that the secret spectacle they were witnessing filled their hearts with fear.

Isos raised his arms and shouted incomprehensible words to the night, chilling the blood of all who beheld him. A column of blackness began to rise from the pile of dead bodies which had been left there to haunt the spirits of the defenders. It formed a great cloud. A thread of pestilence and rot began to feed the cloud from each of the bodies in the pile, charging it with putrid, sickly horror. Sumal felt a chill run down his spine at the sight of the foul cloud being conjured. Isos and the other two Sorcerers of Curses kept on invoking that ghost, absorbing all the vileness of the putrefied corpses as they did so.

When Sumal saw Asuris, the Great Master of the Blood Magic, he immediately guessed that something even more dreadful was about to happen. One look at the face of Asuris, pale as if all life had abandoned his body, and those red blood-shot eyes which chilled the soul, filled Sumal with a real panic. Asuris placed himself behind the circle of acolytes and motioned to a group of soldiers, who were dragging hand-cuffed prisoners and slaves behind them. Sumal counted two dozen being taken to the Great Sorcerer.

All were made to kneel, one Nocean soldier behind each. Asuris began to intone a chant as he looked up to the dark sky. He raised his arms and shouted ancient, secret words, wielding a silver dagger in the shape of a snake. He approached the first prisoner. The soldier pulled the head of the slave back, and Asuris cut his throat. Sumal swallowed hard. Blood began to run down the chest of the sacrifice, and under the cut the Sorcerer placed a golden chalice bearing the symbol of a scorpion to gather the blood. Asuris slowly repeated the process with all the prisoners, one by one, amid the hysteria of those remaining, until there was none left. When he had finished, he murmured a few words and drank from the chalice. Sumal felt his stomach turn. Asuris lifted the chalice above his head and intoned a grim chant, which hovered over the audience like an evil curse.

The dark, putrid cloud began to expand across the space which separated the Sorcerers from the wall crowned by the Rogdonian defenders. The blood ritual was expanding the area of the spell’s effect and with it, very probably —Sumal guessed— its duration and power. This was Asuris’ specialty.

The rotten cloud of horror began to grow ever greater. Soon it would reach the wall, and Sumal had no doubt of the terrible effect it would have on the defenders. He did not even want to imagine the horror of the enemy soldiers. Borne by the fateful chanting of the Sorcerers, the maleficent cloud reached the wall. Yet the defenders did not move. Sumal could make out the bodies and flashes of armor and helmets under the torches and oil lamps.

Nobody was moving.

“They’re crazy! Why don’t they retreat inside? The horror’s going to reach them!”

At that moment, Sumal saw a blinding light explode above the door. The dazzling power of the light was such that it lit up the whole city, forcing them to cover their eyes.

“Mirkos! It’s Mirkos. He’ll destroy the cloud and the attempt will fail.” Sumal raised his eyes and saw that the foul cloud had retreated but had not been destroyed.

Then Zecly came out of the shadows.

He walked wearily to stand beside Asuris, who offered him the chalice with the blood of sacrifice. The Great Master Zecly drank and intoned a sinister chant. He gave the chalice back to Asuris, and the Sorcerer offered him the silver dagger. Zecly took it and used it to make a cut in his hand. Blood dripped to the ground. At the same time Zecly began to cast a spell, with Asuris assisting him. As the spell took shape, the cloud of pestilence advanced again towards the wall. Sumal feared Mirkos would be ready to reject it, so that the cloud would never reach its destination.

But something odd caught the spy’s attention. Over the Great Master Zecly, a strange shape was beginning to form. It looked like… an enormous bird-demon. Its body was translucent and intense red, and there was a quality of evil about it. The beak was murderous, the claws bleeding knife-blades. To Sumal it looked like an enormous evil vulture, but a ghostly one. He was awed by the sight of it.

Above the wall the blinding light exploded once again, throwing back the cloud which the Nocean Sorcerers were trying to send to the enemy with all their power. Several of the acolytes had already fainted, all their energy spent. Sumal thought it was probably true of their vital energy as well. They would never waken.

The Great Master Zecly pointed the dagger at the source of the light and murmured ancient words.

The bird of blood flew in the direction indicated by its master.

The blinding light became visible again, pushing the pestilent cloud even further back.

Sumal thought they were not going to manage it.

Then the great bird with its lethal beak and claws of blood fell upon the origin of the light.

And the light vanished.

It did not come back.

Zecly turned and addressed Sumal in a whisper:

“A blood demon. It’s extremely dangerous to invoke one, as it has a tendency to turn against its master. But it was necessary. When the cloud reaches the battlements, no human being will be left alive. Wait for the spell to disappear, then take the wall. Make sure you go with them, I need eyes I can trust up there, and I must rest. The spell has spent all my magic and left me weak,”

“Yes, Master. As you command.”

Sumal reached the top of the battlements shortly before dawn, and with him five thousand Nocean soldiers. They were part of the second wave. The first had already taken the wall and the Duke’s Castle. His surprise when he arrived on the parapet was so great he would never forget it.

He looked around. “No… no… It can’t be…” he mumbled. On the wall where should have been the bodies of at least four thousand enemy soldiers, dead and twisted in horror, what he found was something unheard of.

“Sir… they’re sacks of wheat,” an officer explained to Sumal when he saw his look of shock. “They’ve been dressed up with armor and helmets to make them look like soldiers from a distance. It’s a ruse.”

“But… then… where are the defenders? In the castle?” Sumal asked trying to make sense of what had happened.

The officer looked at him with fear in his eyes.

“No, sir. The castle is deserted too. We’ve only found Duke Galen, dead in his chambers. As for the rest, there’s not a living soul in the whole fortress… It’s… it’s as if they’d been swallowed up by the earth…”

Sumal could not believe what was in front of him. Five thousand men had vanished before his eyes. But that simply could not be. Mirkos had been casting a spell right there, above the door and that was impossible. Sumal was looking at the rock floor, trying to find some logical explanation, when something caught his attention. He went to it. On the ground was a wooden object: a staff crowned with a crystalline sphere. He crouched to study it.

Beside the staff he found blood… a lot of blood which formed a puddle.

The defenders had vanished mysteriously, but at least there was one piece of good news to make the Great Master Zecly happy.

The blood demon had killed Mirkos the Scholar.

Sonea looked at Yakumo with imploring eyes as she crouched beside the Ilenian symbols engraved on the floor.

“Before anything else,” she said, pointing at them, “please let me try to decipher these.”

“I don’t trust this place,” replied the Assassin, his black eyes scrutinizing their surroundings, “but… all right, go ahead. It might help us find the way out of this cave.”

Sonea began to study the symbols. Immediately Lindaro offered to help her.

Both scholars spent a long time analyzing and deciphering the Ilenian symbols. Yakumo and Iruki, meanwhile were looking for a way out of that underwater cavern, but were disappointed. The chamber was sealed, so there was no way to leave except through the lake. They were buried alive in the depths of the immense lake.

“I don’t like this at all,” said Iruki with a voice that shook a little. “What if we run out of air? I don’t think it’ll last forever…”

“No, certainly not naturally, unless it’s kept going by the magic of the Ilenians… although actually I don’t think that’s true, because at the moment I don’t feel any active magic in this place… I can only feel a very distant presence… I’ve used my Gift several times, but I can’t locate it. For now… I don’t feel there’s any imminent danger.”

“I believe we’ve discovered something!” cried Sonea excitedly.

Yakumo and Iruki stared at the two scholars.

“What have you found? Can it help us get out of here?” Yakumo wanted to know.

“This is really intriguing!” said Lindaro, equally excited.

Sonea clapped enthusiastically.

“This hieroglyph indicates there is a way to leave the cavern.”

“How?” said Iruki.

Sonea smiled. “It’s not so easy, it’s really a riddle. In order to leave this place we must find the key that opens the hidden exit.”

“A key…? How? What does it open?” said Yakumo doubtfully.

“As far as we can gather, the key makes reference to one of the four natural elements. It’s taken us so long to decipher because the reference to the element isn’t a direct one. The hieroglyph only says it’s the element which allows whoever reads it to decipher it…”

“I don’t understand,” said Iruki.

“It was difficult for us too to realize what the riddle meant. What allows us to decipher this hieroglyph is essentially the same thing that allows us to live down here.”

“Down here?” Iruki asked baffled.

“Air!” said Yakumo, “They mean air.”

“Exactly! Good instincts, Yakumo,” said Sonea.

“So the key to leave here is Air, or rather Wind,” Said Lindaro. “There’s not much we can do with air, but wind gives us more of a chance. But of course this is all just a guess, based on an inconclusive theory…” said Lindaro.

Iruki looked at the man of faith without fully grasping his meaning.

“We’ve also discovered the symbol of the Guardian and the symbol of the exit, but we think we have the key: the wind will guide us to the exit but we don’t know where that is. And as for the Guardian…”

“Finding a reference to the way out is wonderful,” said Lindaro, “but finding the symbol of the Guardian scares me to death.” There was perspiration on his forehead.

“Let’s focus on the one for the exit,” said Yakumo. “That’s the really important thing.”

“Which one is it?” asked Iruki with interest.

Sonea pointed at it.

Iruki came to look closer. With all her heart she wanted to leave that underwater cave and return to the surface and her beloved plains. And at that moment, the medallion around her neck gave out its characteristic lively blue flash. The Ilenian symbol for the exit, the one Sonea had identified, lit up with an intense golden sheen as if it were liquid gold.

“By the Light!” cried Lindaro. He took a step back.

“I didn’t mean to!” said Iruki. “The medallion acts of its own volition.”

The Ilenian rune shone with increased intensity. They began to feel a breeze running through the chamber.

“I can feel the Ilenian magic all around us,” warned Yakumo. “Be ready.”

“What’s that strange breeze?” said Lindaro. “Maybe it’s to renew the air we’re breathing?”

The breeze increased, turning rapidly into a powerful wind.

A chill ran down Iruki’s spine. She began to feel fear. A fear that was very real, almost tangible.

“Wind! The Key!” said Sonea looking in every direction.

They all tried to hold on to something as the breeze turned into a real gale. A moment later they were caught up in a whirlwind.

“Hold on!” cried Yakumo.

“Don’t lose your balance, or else the wind will drag you away!” cried Iruki.

Sonea and Lindaro tried to hold on to the walls of the cavern as the gale got stronger and stronger.

“We won’t be able to stand up to this wind!” cried Sonea in terror. “It’s going to drag us away!”

Looking at her, Iruki noticed how small she was, and feared for her. She could not weigh more than a fawn, and she was going to be drowned by the cyclone that was forming. She held on to Yakumo with all her might and looked around trying to find a handhold, but could find nothing but bare limestone walls.

“There’s no place to get a hold!” cried Lindaro. He was desperately struggling with his robe which seemed ready to fly off his lean body.

Iruki, holding on to Yakumo, stretched out her hand toward Sonea with great difficulty. The little librarian could hardly stand.

“Grab my hand, Sonea, hurry!”

Sonea grabbed Iruki’s hand, aware that her life depended on it.

“Lindaro! You as well! Hold fast!”

“By the blessed Light!” cried the man of faith, and held on to Sonea with all the strength he could.

The cyclone turned more intense. The winds had reached an unbelievable speed by now. The four adventurers were trying to stay on their feet by holding onto each other, while their clothes lashed all around them.

Sonea lost her balance, Lindaro and Iruki managed to keep hold of her. The poor girl was suspended between the two, hanging from her arms.

“It’s taking me!” she cried terrified.

They all pulled hard to keep their hold on her.

“Hold on! Hold on!” shouted Yakumo.

Suddenly the cyclone changed its course and began to push them from the floor towards the dome of the cavern.

“What on earth!” cried Yakumo.

The dome of the cavern lit up, flashing several times with the characteristic golden sheen of the Ilenian magic. Suddenly, a huge hole opened in the ceiling and the gale began to push toward it. It seemed that the cyclone had come to life and was trying to get out of the cave through that opening in the ceiling.

“Don’t let go!” shouted Iruki.

But the force of the winds dragged them all along amid desperate screams. The four flew out of the chamber through the hole in the ceiling. It dragged them to the upper level, flattening them against the ceiling of the chamber. They could not move.

“What can we do?” shouted Iruki. Her face and body were pressed against the hard rock of this other dome.

Before Yakumo could reply, the wind changed again and pushed them violently against the eastern wall of the chamber. The blow was overwhelming, they all dropped to the floor breathless. Even Yakumo needed a couple of minutes to recover.

Then, as suddenly as it had begun, the cyclone stopped completely. The four adventurers were left on the ground, winded.

After a while, Iruki opened her eyes. She was sore all over, just as if a whole herd of wild buffalo had passed over her. She saw they were in a cavern with dark walls and a domed ceiling. Yakumo was getting to his feet and Lindaro and Sonea were unconscious, she ran over to help them.

Lindaro came to, dizzy and with a lump on his forehead. “What happened?”

Sonea raised herself with difficulty. She had been equally affected by the impact.

“It was dragging me…” she said, “I couldn’t stay on my feet. The force of that wind was too much for me.”

Iruki looked miserably around the cavern. There was no other exit except the hole on the ground through which they had been propelled from the lower cave. How were they going to get out of there? She did not want to go through another experience like the one at the Temple of Water. But when she thought of leaving the place she felt something in her chest, a strange sensation she had already felt before… Something was brewing in her abdomen. The medallion she wore round her neck flashed again.

“No!” She tried to stop whatever it was that the medallion wanted to invoke against her will.

But there was no way she could.

Yakumo was pointing. “Look!”

In reply to the medallion’s summons, the cavern sparkled with the mystical gold of the Ilenian magic. To everyone’s bafflement, the northern wall of the cavern crumbled as if it had been blown down by the wind.

“It may be the door we were looking for, the exit the key opens!” said Lindaro, full of hope.

But just then, a figure appeared in the opening.

Iruki shrugged.

“Oh no!” she cried, paralyzed by terror.

Before them was an Ilenian Guardian Mage, wearing a white robe trimmed with gold. His bright golden eyes were visible under the hood which hid his head and face. In one hand he carried a strangely carved staff, and in the other a book with golden cover.

“A Guardian! Beware!” cried Lindaro.

Sonea opened her eyes in bewilderment, not understanding what was happening.

“He’s… is he carrying… is that an Ilenian grimoire in his hand?” she asked as she recognized the book.

Iruki, who like Lindaro was very much aware of the mortal danger they were in, put her hand to her Ilenian sword.

Yakumo acted immediately. In two strides he leapt towards the Guardian, his black daggers unmistakably intent on death. Iruki recognized the red flash that enveloped the Assassin as he called upon one of his lethal abilities. She realized she could sense the use of magic better than before, and it gave her an odd feeling. She remembered how at first she had recognized the magic of Lasgol the Tracker, but that had been so faint she had almost not noticed it. Now, though, she felt it in all its strength and intensity. She could not tell what skill Yakumo was using, but it was obvious that it was a very aggressive one.

In the face of the attack the Ilenian Guard acted swiftly. He moved his staff towards Yakumo. A powerful wind came out of the staff with such a fierce roar that Iruki felt the blood freeze in her veins. Yakumo was hit by the deadly breath and thrown against the wall, hitting his back forcefully.

He fell to the ground and did not move

“Noooooooo!” cried Iruki, fearing the worst.

She ran to help her beloved, but as she did so the Guardian murmured and pointed the staff at her. Iruki’s heart skipped a beat. Before she could reach Yakumo, a whirlwind more than six feet high, swirling at a tremendous speed, materialized before her.

What’s that? What does the Guardian want?

Frightened, she stood a step back. She saw the column of air in front of her, threatening, rotating with enormous speed and strength, it was going so fast that it whistled, it was whitish and cloudy. Iruki stepped sideways to try and get past this magical monster and reach Yakumo, but the whirlwind fell upon her at a speed she would never have thought possible, faster than a leopard of the steppes. It caught her and enveloped her completely. She struggled against it, but was unable to move while it swirled around her crazily. She was a prisoner in a cage of wind. She looked at Yakumo lying on the ground, wounded, and fear crushed her soul like a weight.

Once again the Guardian raised his staff above his head. His sinister golden eyes shone, and he began to intone a gloomy chant… Iruki wanted to shout, but her throat was tightly clamped. Three new whirlwinds were conjured, trapping Sonea, Lindaro and the prostrate Yakumo in their vortexes. They were all paralyzed inside the swirling spirals. Iruki tried with all her might to escape the whirlwind but the hungry force of the wind around her held her trapped. It was an indestructible cell of wind, spinning at dizzying speed

“By all the Lights of the Heavens! What new spell is this?” shouted Lindaro. “We’re trapped! I can’t move! This is not natural!”

“It’s a prison made of wind, horribly ironic and absolutely fascinating!” said Sonea in amazement.

“Think of something!” yelled Iruki. “We’ve got to get ourselves out of this!”

The Ilenian Guardian took a step forward and pointed his staff in the direction of the Masig.

Iruki swallowed hard. What was he going to do next? She was defenseless…

The medallion round her neck gave off a bright flash.

The Guardian Mage seemed to hesitate…

He lowered the staff but directed it at her again immediately. He murmured something in his strange language.

Iruki felt a shock against her head, a mental blow which bewildered her, it was as if the Mage wanted to get inside her thoughts. A new thrust, and Iruki understood that the Guardian was trying to communicate with her. The blows against her mind gave way to a distant murmur which came from the past, gradually awakening understanding in her…