The Pinnacle Of Empire (Book 6) (7 page)

Endaquac glanced up and gave Helgamyr a faint smile then put down her work. She rose and came to look through the spell book with her mistress.

No sooner had she opened the tome than Helgamyr lost her eagerness, slapped the book closed, and tossed it on the table. Embarrassed at her own rudeness, she felt the heat of facial flush and went to select sweets from a sideboard. “Revenge will wait, I suppose.”

“If these books don’t contain what you’re looking for, I may be able find something else,” the maid said.

“Yes, yes, do see what you can find,” Helgamyr said and turned again to the sideboard to get a sweet that had just caught her eye.

* * *

Tottiana was delighted with Tittletot’s addition to the court’s inner circle. The little jester amused her often when in Saxthor’s company, though he seemed never to want to leave the emperor’s presence. Tottiana now sulked in her suite, her ladies-in-waiting trying to entertain her without success.

“Mother is right; Saxthor will be rid of us,” Tottiana moaned, throwing herself on a divan.

“No, Majesty,” Lady Dee insisted. “His Majesty comes each afternoon at the conclusion of the court audiences to walk with you in the palace gardens.”

“Father’s gone, Mother is so angry she refuses to admit me to her suite, half the court hangs on Saxthor’s every word, and now he won’t even share precious little Tittletot.”

“The tittletot was a gift to His Majesty as court jester. Tittletot himself refuses to be separated from the emperor. You mustn’t blame the emperor for the tittletot’s devotion.”

“Saxthor could make him a gift to me if he wanted to,” the empress exclaimed. She smacked the pillows with her little fists and began sobbing.

“Tittletot refuses to be separated from the emperor. No one can force the little fellow to stay with you, though, as we know, you’re the best of company, Majesty,” Lady Dee said, her voice cracking. She gestured to the other ladies to come to her aid. Two came forward a step or two, but neither said anything.

“Oh, go away. Even my ladies-in-waiting side with that brute. I’m alone in the world and even my husband loves another.” Tottiana wept herself to sleep and awoke with puffy eyes her mirror told her were hideous. She was patting them with a cool, damp cloth when Saxthor entered her dressing room to take her for their constitutional. She walked with him that afternoon but, sulking still, refused to engage in conversation. They walked on in silence until time to return and dress for dinner.

* * *

Memlatec rose and paced his chamber in the wizard’s tower now neat, clean, and boring. He sat down again, tried to read, but found the available library utterly inadequate. He slammed shut the book at hand and went to see Saxthor.

“Your Majesty, now that there’s peace across Powteros, you’re married, and established on the imperial throne, I should like to return to my own retreat at Konnotan,” the great wizard said.

Saxthor rose slowly, stress lines prominent in his face. “Memlatec, you have been my mentor and guardian since I was a child. I need you here with me. How shall I govern this vast empire without your guidance? And then there’s the matter of the menacing, evil energy you mentioned.”

“I can’t serve you well here, Majesty.”

“You saved the empire from war here when you saved King Nemenese.”

“That was an isolated incident. The kings have returned to their home countries. You don’t need me here. I must return to my tower where my resources are much advanced to better serve Your Majesty.”

“I can have your entire tower contents brought here and build you a new, more magnificent tower.” Memlatec shook his head. “Memlatec, we know each other too well. Something else is troubling you. What is it?”

Memlatec smiled then lowered his head, feeling exhaustion draining his smile. “The evil is on a mission, it has intent and purpose. I know that from its movement. I can’t trace the essence with any precision. I need to return to my tower at Konnotan where I have better resources.”

“You think it will assume physical form and, through that, find a means to get to me, don’t you?”

“Its movements suggest as much.”

“Then do as you think best. Who am I to second guess a primal wizard? He went to Memlatec, shook his hand then clasped him in a hug. “You’ve been my family since my parents, brother, and sister died. Take care of yourself and return as soon as possible.”

“Tittletot,” Memlatec said, turning to the jester. “Watch out for His Majesty in my absence, and you too, Delia.”

With her tail wagging, Delia sauntered over to Memlatec. She licked his hand and he patted her head.

*

Back in Ossenkosk’s wizard’s tower, Memlatec was packing when his foot tapped a box, frightening a mouse. It raced over his foot and across the floor to a slender break in the wood at the base of a cabinet.

Odd, I haven’t noticed that before, he thought. He examined the wood and noted three dark spots. They look like someone tapped those spots frequently enough for the oil on his fingers to darkened the wood. The sorcerer tapped the spots in various sequences and after several attempts, a slender piece of molding slid out a fingernail’s distance. Memlatec pulled the molding and it came out. As it did so, a panel higher up on the cabinet opened up, revealing a shallow space behind it. A dozen or so very rare books, grey with dust, stood on a single shelf behind a dusty cobweb. The first book was one he had heard about, but had never seen. I thought this book a mere figment of the imagination.

Then he noted a recess in the wall where a finely carved wooden box rested. It was elfin carved and adorned with jewels in metal bindings that were dwarf made. What treasure would have made dwarf and elf collaborate on such a dazzling creation? he wondered. It’s not gold, but the box is irreplaceable in itself. The wizard opened the box, revealing a ball the size of a man’s head. It consisted of seven white metal rings, each inside the other. Each fingernail-thick ring was engraved with runes. The metal was silvery gray with no trace of tarnish or corrosion. Platinum… How extraordinary!

He reached to pick up the ball, and on touching it, he felt a sudden energy drain. The ball rose by itself, each circle spinning within the one encircling it. Then a pale blue light encircled the orb. The circles came to rest with each band free standing at a forty-five degree angle to the one encircling it.

What can this thing be? He was puzzled. There was never a mention of such an object at the Wizard’s Hall before the Wizard Wars when the great sorcerers were the dominant force over the world. It’s clearly magical. A wizard must have devised such a marvel, but whom? How did it get here? Does it have connection to the last high wizard here at this court?

The wizard rushed back outside the cabinet and secured the tower workroom door. He turned to go back only to find the ball hovering in the air just behind him. He returned to the hidden room, the orb following, and began to search through the books on the shelf to discover the object’s purpose. He selected three books, the last of which was the last wizard’s journal.

I must deactivate this thing, he thought. I can’t have it floating around behind me everywhere. There’s some incantation, no doubt, but there must also be some physical method to do so.
To his surprise and relief he found a simple closure invocation to deactivate the sphere. Memlatec returned the devise to its case and then the case to the wall niche. He resealed the room and packed the three books in his baggage, only then retiring to rest and think.

The sorcerer departed Ossenkosk the next morning, returning to Konnotan. He would not let the bag out of his sight.

* * *

The Dark Lord’s evil essence hovered at the Abysmal Pass for some time, assessing the flinik and foodoo inhabiting the severe terrain.

The creatures of the pass are agitated, apparently sensing a malevolent presence among them, he thought. They’re agitated, unable to locate a physical manifestation to attack. Let them fret. Ah, yes, I sense a wizard as well. He must be in his tower beyond the pass. The wizard’s energy agitation suggests he senses me approaching. He can’t identify me or my intent. I sense his fear. My sudden presence seems to burn him. He recognizes I’m not a friendly presence. This wizard will soon learn he has more to dread than his suspicions envision.

Once within Senoshesvas, the evil perceived the wizard’s location. It skirted the palace, moving to the dark tower. Slinking up the charcoal gray walls to the balcony, it slipped in through the doorway to Xthilleon’s workroom.

*

There, the wizard backed away from the doorway, glancing left and right, searching for the unseen. “You’re here; I sense your cold presence,” Xthilleon mumbled. “Who are you? What do you want of me?”

The hair on the back of Xthilleon’s neck prickled. He moved in short spurts around the room, scanning frantically for what he could not see, too fearful to stand still. He saw a shimmer in the lamplight and stumbled backward, bumping into the worktable. The flame there flickered then flashed. A cold chill passed through him like a knife. The hair on his arms frizzed as if exposed to lightning’s electrical charge. “Who are you?”

There was no response. Terrified, the wizard cast a protective spell he’d researched in advance when sensing the coming presence was hostile. Inside the protective shell, Xthilleon’s heart pounded. He’s never known fear before. Then a spark near his left elbow alerted him to the presence testing the shield. He jerked away, flashing hot and cold, his nerves fraying.

“What do you want?” Xthilleon shouted. He shuddered. A ripple in the translucent shield suggested it was no deterrent. There was nowhere to run, no escape. The silence itself seemed deafening. He jerked back, striking the worktable, causing the lone candle to wobble violently. Xthilleon held his breath. The candle fell over, extinguishing the flame, plunging the room in sudden, total darkness. A sharp pain pierced the wizard’s skull. A voice in his own head said, “You!”

Panicking, Xthilleon groped for the tower stairs. It’s penetrated the shield as if it weren’t there, he thought. A wave of terror washed over him and he wet himself. Suddenly, his body stung a thousand stings. A terrifying ache throbbed in his head. The wizard stumbled, falling to the floor, his hands clasping his skull.
It’s in my brain
was his last conscious thought.

What rose from the landing hours later was no longer Wizard Xthilleon, though it answered to the name. No one at court noted the change in Xthilleon, except his eyes were strangely yellow. He claimed it was due to accidentally ingesting some mysterious ingredients.

They don’t want to think about any other explanation, the hybrid wizard thought. He chuckled gutturally to himself.

* * *

In the Senoshesvas royal palace, King Nindax was interrupted at his garrison’s military exercises by the chatra bearing a letter from Imperial Lord Governor Hedrak of Mendenow. Nindax stared at the chatra who seemed equally intrigued. The king broke the seal and read the secret correspondence. A huge grin spread over Nindax’s harsh face as he read.

“What does he say, Majesty,” the chatra dared to inquire.

“A disgruntled imperial governor is a tumor in the host,” Nindax replied, handing off the document to the chatra. The minister read it before Nindax took the epistle, cast it into a brazier, and watched it burn to ash.

“So, we have a possible military ally inside the empire,” the chatra said.

“Possibly, but more likely, his ambition seeks to play us off against the emperor. When we’re both worn down in the struggle, this worm intends to seize the imperial throne for himself.”

“A mere governor would aspire to displace both an emperor and king?” the incredulous chatra asked.

“Actually, his aspirations have a kernel of basis. He has some legitimate connection to the throne, though distant, through some obscure antecedent. The man is a fool, a fool risking death over wounded pride. We shall court this unexpected asset for our own ends. If he risks treason over merely being ignored, he’s ruled by emotions. We shall play to his vanity weakness.”

* * *

King Nemenese stamped about in his mistress’s palace apartment, trying to decide who was responsible for the serpentine assassin that attacked him at Engwaniria. He stopped often, looking about to see if anyone approached, not sure if he’d heard muffled footsteps or not.

“Helgamyr has no idea,” Nemenese said. “She insisted Saxthor was trying to dispose of her when I was in Ossenkosk. She blames the emperor for everything. There is simply no actual evidence that the emperor was involved, though he would be careful to cover his involvement. He’s married to my granddaughter. His request to explore new trade agreements was already approved. Was it all a ruse to cover his real intent?”

“Whoever attempted your assassination, a wizard is involved. Men can’t create such evil things as you described without the aid of magic,” the mistress said.

“All the courts have wizards, except mine. I have no way of exploring that aspect of this dilemma. Ever since my antecedent’s court wizard debauched his daughter whom the wizard was supposed to be tutoring, wizards have been outlawed in this kingdom.”

“Oh really?” the mistress asked. She perked up at the revelation, sitting up and pulling her scant, nearly transparent robe about her. “Do tell; I’ve not heard about that.”