King Of The North (Book 3) (19 page)

He would not grieve for them as he would have done in the past. The Northmen themselves had a rather stoic attitude toward death, and Farouk would honor that tradition. They were in Valhalla now, with their Earthly Lord, Kruum. He would be happy for them, and do what he could to make their sacrifice worthwhile.

Putting those thoughts aside, he donned his clothing, leaving his cloak unbuttoned and his hood down. He was immune to the cold now, he assumed, and their warmth was not needed. The Defiler had given him power to strengthen his physical abilities, and possibly his magic, but he would   wear the robes to honor his title of Druid. It was a title that he felt, somehow, was only the beginning. His conversation with the Keeper had given him that impression.

When he was satisfied that he had procured all of his equipment, Farouk removed the map of ley lines from his pack. He looked to the mountainous area near Berg av Hel, where the temple of Kronos was located. There was an intersection of lines in that area, near the mouth of the pass, and the symbols for two musical notes were inscribed.

The Druid was torn between reaching Kronos and helping his friends. Though he knew Cannuck would protect the Tribe of the Elk, they were not familiar with the ways of the Jindala. They would face an unknown enemy, and could not possibly prepare themselves for the horrors that would be unleashed. On the other hand, freeing Kronos from his prison was of the utmost importance. With his help, the Jindala could be defeated either way, supernatural weapons or not. It was a difficult decision, but the fate of the world itself took precedence.

He would travel directly to Kronos.

Sitting cross-legged in the snow, Farouk cleared his mind to prepare himself for the spell. With the right side of his brain, he focused on producing the tone that would prepare the gateway. It was a middle C, a base tone that every musician was familiar with. It resonated beautifully in his mind as he focused harder and harder, and its vibrations moved through his body like a calming fluid. Then, separating the other half of his mind, he focused on the second tone.

This was an A, two octaves down. It vibrated strangely, causing a reactive resonation that was slightly uncomfortable when combined with the middle C. However, he felt the warble that the chord produced as it pulsated through his head, spreading down throughout his body. His mind was now focused on his destination, and there was no turning back. He felt his consciousness float free, rising up through the air as if he were a bird.

He opened his mind’s eye, following the song that seemed to play back to him from the temple. He floated toward it, feeling as if his body were actually moving, though he knew he was still near the tribe’s village. Ahead, Berg av Hel came into view, its jagged peaks jutting up through the snow like the bones of a white dragon poking through its skin.

In the center of the circular formation, the temple stood in ruins. Once a spectacular formation of stone circles and spires, it was now a crumbled pile of stones and fallen columns. Farouk knew that the intersection was not directly near the temple, and his mind was not able to get any closer. It settled near the opening of the valley, some five hundred yards away where the intersection lay.

Through foggy eyes, Farouk saw the destination. A frozen pond was near the intersection, surrounded by pine trees and a signpost that pointed the way to the temple.

He reached for his sword with one hand and his staff with the other, ready to pounce the moment he appeared in their vicinity. He swallowed, said a quick prayer to the Great Mother, and finished the spell. The Druid faded from sight as the spell was completed.

On his perch at the crest of the hill above, the Keeper smiled.

Chapter Fourteen

Traegus walked among the Knights of
The Dragon as they lounged comfortably in his study. Jodocus, Maedoc, and the young woman, Aeli had arrived on horseback, and were seated a nearby table. Eamon and the Knights were pleased to meet the newcomer, surprised that someone of her former reputation had been revealed to be such a loyal ally.

“I am happy to have you all here together,” Traegus said. “However, I would prefer to have Farouk here as well.”

The Lich settled down onto a stool near his drawing desk, facing the others. He leaned his staff against the wall behind him, and folded his gloved hands on his lap.

“The Great Mother is weakened,” he continued. “And
The Dragon appears to be lost in his realm. He is no longer coherent, and can be of no assistance. His power has been transferred to Prince…er, King Eamon, and a great portion of the mind he has left is focused on reaching the Great Mother. She is, however, communing with the entities of higher realms. Her brothers and sister, so to speak. She is in contact with great beings, who communicate the ways of the universe to her. These same entities have also contacted you, Eamon, attempting to reveal to you the method of defeating The Lifegiver. Unfortunately, your human mind cannot put the pieces together as effectively as they would like.”

“Surely I cannot be the only person to defeat him,” Eamon said.

“Oh, no,” Traegus replied. “You have a part to play, indeed, but it will take a combined effort of all of the powers of this world, and those beyond, to defeat him.”

Maedoc stood, clasping his hands behind him. “Traegus speaks of the Universal Powers,” he said. “There are entities greater than those that inhabit the planets, and even the stars themselves. Powers that were created at the beginning of time. Among them are the Universe itself, a fractured and divided entity that embodies the souls of all sentient beings, the Universal Keepers, the Great Keeper, and
The Lifegiver himself.”

“He is correct,” Traegus interjected. “These entities embody the Material Planes and the Anti-Material Planes. Matter and anti-matter. The Lifegiver exists in what sages call Hyperspace, or simply, The Void. It is a realm where matter and anti-matter exist within the same space. There this combined substance is called Dark Matter, and there, it is stable. If Dark Matter were to enter either reality, it would annihilate itself and create a burst of energy so powerful that it could destroy or create entire worlds.”

“It is this annihilation that created the Universe we see,” Maedoc explained. “In any lump of dark matter, there is always more matter than anti-matter. The matter that is left over is what creates the various universes, these parallel dimensions we call reality.”

Eamon furrowed his brow, then looked around to see that the rest of the Knights were equally confused. “Is any of this relevant to what we, ourselves, need to know?” he asked.

Traegus chuckled. “Not really,” he said. “Only in the sense that you need to understand The Lifegiver’s true nature. He is dark matter, yet is able to project himself into this universe. He is not really here, obviously, or he would be annihilated. His presence is merely an avatar, linked to his own realm through dark energy.”

“So how do we break this link?” Eamon asked.

“Only the Great Mother can break this link,” Traegus said. “With the help of the Firstborn. But this will come at a terrible price.”

“And what price is that?” Eamon asked.

“The Firstborn will be destroyed,” Traegus replied. “And their own children, yourself included, will take their place. In addition, the Great Mother will be so weakened by the battle that she will need thousands of years to recover. Civilization will eventually fade with her passing, and all of the magic of the world will diminish until it is gone. When the world recovers, it will be mundane. Only the divine will be able to wield what magic is left over.”

“That is probably for the best,” Wrothgaar remarked. “Humans have been irresponsible with power.”

Traegus chuckled. “True,” he said. “Very true. But the divine are not much better. And with each generation, they will get worse.”

“Even now,” Wrothgaar continued, “those that call themselves gods in the Northlands have begun to emerge. They are nothing more than giants with divine power. They are petty, and care little for life.”

“Such as they will all be in the future,” Maedoc added. “They did not create the world. Why should they care for anything that walks upon it?”

“The Druids will have to preserve the land and its life,” Jodocus said. “There is no one else who can.”

“Indeed,” Traegus agreed. “When the Great Mother sleeps, she will be unable to maintain the balance. You and your kind will have to take up that mantle.”

“I will prepare my apprentice for such an outcome,” Jodocus said. “If need be. For now, she is a novice, and is still learning. She will still have to be accepted by the land.”

Traegus looked to Aeli, who shuffled uncomfortably in her seat. “I have the feeling she will be ready sooner than expected.” He said.

“Now to the other matter,” Eamon said after a long silence. “Our first step is to drive the Jindala from Eirenoch.”

“Yes,” Traegus said. “That is why I asked you here.”

The Lich retrieved his staff and displayed it to all. “With my staff,” he began, “I will be able to open a portal into Faerbane. It will do no good to gather your forces at the city gates. The shore is too narrow to lay siege. Consequently, Queen Maebh and
The Prophet will meet you in battle on the west side of the city. There, you will do battle. Even now, their forces are gathering and preparing for an assault. When you meet them, someone will have to secure the town and get the people to safety. Once that occurs, I will open a portal into the city and a small force can directly assault the castle. Your Knights, and a select few can do so.”

Daryth spoke up, finally. “I will instruct Adder and Jhayla to secure the townsfolk,” he said. “There is a Thieves’ Guild in Faerbane. He will easily be able to get in and organize an evacuation.”

Eamon nodded. “Good,” he said. “When we pass through Gaellos again, pass on the word. Have him and the new Rangers meet us near Faerbane.”

“I will send Titus to inform him,” Traegus said. “There is no need for delays.”

“And what of this Prince Eogan?” Eamon said. “Does he wield The Lifegiver’s power?”

“He does,” Traegus said. “But he is not yet fully aware of his abilities.”

“He carries the blood of The Dragon, as do I.”

“Through your Grandfather,” Traegus explained. “But, being only your cousin, he is not the son of
The Dragon as you are. He will be a worthy adversary, but I have faith that you can defeat him. And you must. Eogan must die if you are to be King of the whole island. Only then will you be able to lead our armies into battle across the sea.”

“Then we have our plan,” Eamon said.

“Follow your army to Faerbane and await my arrival,” Traegus said. “Maedoc, return to Morduin and guard Siobhan’s tomb. Jodocus, take your apprentice and seek out this new creature in the south. I will commune with all entities that I can to gather more information on this threat.”

Eamon stood, and his Knights rose with him. “Let us make haste, my friends,” he said. “Jodocus, Maedoc, it was good to see you again. And, Aeli, it was good to meet you.”

Aeli smiled, nodding to her King. “And you, as well, my lord,” she replied.

“Good luck to everyone,” Traegus said. “When this is over, we shall make plans to take the battle to the mainland. Farewell, my friends.”

The Lifegiver’s image was ghost-like in the large mirror that dominated the rear wall of
The Prophet’s chambers. Eogan stared in awe, both terrified and fascinated by the dark, swirling mass of strange energy that appeared before him. The Prince had been brought here to show himself to his master, and though he was not at all prepared to surrender himself to this alien being, he willingly played along to avoid suspicion. He had his own plans for his future kingdom, and The Lifegiver was not part of them.

Nevertheless, he had arrived as expected, and now watched as
The Lifegiver’s essence roiled like black water in the mirror before him.

Come closer, my child,
The Lifegiver commanded.

Hesitantly, Eogan crept closer, still keeping his distance. “I came as you requested,” he said.

Yes, I wanted to see you, to feel your soul in my grasp. You belong to me.

“I will sit upon the throne of Eirenoch, with or without your help,” Eogan replied, proudly. “I have no need for you.”

The Lifegiver’s deep laughter filled the chamber, shaking the mirror and causing the lamps to flicker.

Arrogance. That is good. You will serve my purpose well. Under your rule, the people will submit their lives and their souls to me. And in return, I offer you eternal life and domination.

Eogan said nothing, though in his mind he contemplated smashing the mirror. Slowly, he stiffened as The Lifegiver extended his tendrils into the room. They swirled around Eogan slowly, caressing his skin. The Prince put all thoughts of rebellion out of his mind, quelling anything that would give him away.

You carry the blood of
The Dragon in your veins. So much like your cousin, yet so much like your father.

“You know nothing of my father,” Eogan hissed. “He was a weakling. He put his love for me before his natural instincts. He fell to my dagger without even a struggle.”

It is your demeanor of which I speak. Like Garret, you are rational and possess a sense of forethought, but are quick to react to shock. That was his failure, and it will be yours.

“What do you mean?”

Your anger allowed this thief to defeat you in battle. He scarred you for life, and nearly killed you, all because you let your guard down.

Eogan considered
The Lifegiver’s words. The more he thought about them, the more he realized they were accurate. He had been too eager to end the fight quickly. But perhaps it was not merely anger that caused his tactlessness. There were other factors to consider.

“My pride…” Eogan realized. “My pride led me to believe I could finish the fight quickly.”

The Lifegiver’s dark mass seemed to brighten to a deep blue, and his tendrils of energy swirled with seeming delight.

Very good, my child. Your wisdom grows with each passing moment. It is only when an entity realizes his limitations and faults that he is able to overcome them.

Eogan laughed. “Thank you,” he said, excitedly. “Thank you for helping me to realize these limitations.”

I am impressed with your humility, Eogan. You will make a formidable servant.

Eogan nodded. Though having been reluctant to share the glory of his future kingdom, he now realized that with The Lifegiver’s guidance, he could expand his kingdom without limits.

He could conceivably rule the world.

Eogan smiled at the prospect. “I am your humble and loyal servant,” he said.

The Lifegiver relaxed his mass, fading to a cool blue in the mirror. At last, the swirls of dark energy faded back into its reflective surface, and the Prince heard him utter a single phrase before the image was gone.

Your loyalty will be rewarded, my son.

The Northmen pushed on, cutting through the Jindala ranks as their fury strengthened the warrior heart in all of them. Cannuck was an unstoppable beast; a veritable giant compared to the smaller desert people. He smashed them aside like ragdolls with his immense hammer, screaming the names of his ancestors as he did. He was a fearsome sight alongside his son, who was equally aggressive and deadly.

Fuelled by the sight of their King, the Northmen worked themselves into a frenzy. They waded through the piles upon piles of dead Jindala, filling the cold air with a frozen mist of their enemy’s blood.

“Archers!” Cannuck yelled back as he turned. He then signaled them to draw their weapons and flank the enemy troops. The Jindala leader was in their somewhere, and the King wanted to flush him out.

Then, the Jindala began to fall back as they saw the flanking Northmen surround them. Their ranks parted as several red and black cloaked sorcerers stepped forward, protected by a thin row of spearmen. The Northmen knew of the tricks used by spell casters, and were prepared to take cover at any sign of magic. Nevertheless, Cannuck and Thorgil both shouted to their men.

“Stay out of reach!” Cannuck commanded, seeing his men forming a semi circle behind him.

Thorgil rushed forward, drawing a throwing axe from his belt. Cannuck watched his son launch the deadly missile as fast as an arrow, seeing the weapon turn end over end as it flew. The Jindala in the front row dodged out of the way, barely escaping the tumbling axe as it flew past them and struck a pale, sickly necromancer square in the chest.

The Prince howled in fury as he saw the man fall back with a sickening splat. “That’ll put some color in ‘im!” he yelled.

The remainder of the Northmen howled with laughter as they charged again, taking advantage of the brief chaos. The warriors cut down the spearmen in front, slamming into the group of mages. The robed figures disappeared among the fray as Cannuck spurred his men on.