The Wizard and the Warlord (The Wardstone Trilogy Book Three) (8 page)

Phen stood and looked toward the southwest, where many, many miles away the island of Borina sat with a few other little atolls. “If those red-robed fools have opened up another gateway there’s no telling what has crawled up into the world.”

He stood there for a long moment, contemplating, then he turned back to the elven girl. “I can tell that your shoulder was magically healed. Do you remember any—” His voice trailed away. She was curled up into herself, lying like a babe and sleeping.

Phen sat down, closed his eyes, and sought out his familiar, Spike. The lyna cat responded to his magical probing quickly. Through their link Phen had the lyna seek out Captain Biggs at the helm of the
Royal Seawander
. They had established a few signals with the captain before leaving the ship. There was nothing that would explain to the captain that they were hundreds of miles southwest of the Serpent’s Eye at the edge of the Leif Greyn River Delta, but he could let them know they were alive.

After having Spike pester him long enough, the captain realized what was happening. “Where are they?” Biggs asked the lyna excitedly. He looked haggard. No doubt they had been searching since the storm passed. Phen knew the captain of Queen Willa’s royal vessel wouldn’t want to return to tell the High King that he’d lost two of the realm’s greatest heroes on a lark.

Phen felt for the man. He and Oarly had more or less bribed him into this. Now that he had Captain Biggs’s attention, he thought about how he could say what he wanted to say through his familiar. He got the captain to follow the lyna down into the Royal Compartment where Phen and Oarly were quartered. There was a map of the southern coast spread out on the booth table. Spike hopped up onto it and began trying to unroll it further westward. The captain watched stupidly for a moment, but after Spike pushed a paperweight off the table Biggs suddenly got it and helped the strange animal unfurl the rest of the parchment.

Phen had to struggle to see through Spike’s eyes in the dimly lit cabin, but he managed to make out the coastline on the map. He had Spike indicate the marshland west of O’Dakahn, the area labeled
Leif Greyn Delta
.

“You drifted past O’Dakahn, then?” Biggs asked.

Spike paused and nodded his quill-covered feline head.

Phen tried to be more creative and had Spike trace the shape of the letters S M O K E, but that only served to confuse the exhausted-looking captain. Finally, Spike, on his own, darted up to the unlit lantern and began thumping on it with his tail. A few minutes later Biggs finally said he understood that they would light a fire for him to use to locate them. He said he felt stupid talking out loud to the little feline, but he did it anyway.

Biggs told the lyna that it would be midmorning before he could get the ship that far west. Phen wished he could talk back to the captain through Spike, but that just wasn’t possible.

Sometime later the grunting, huffing sound of Oarly’s return came to Phen’s ears. He stood to see what all the commotion was about. Oarly had dragged the dinghy the entire quarter mile across the grass by himself.

“What did you do that for?” Phen asked him.

“So we’ll have a way to leave this blasted lizard den, boy!”

“You should have said that’s what you intended to do, Oarly,” Phen said matter-of-factly. “Captain Biggs is on his way. I imagine they will row the cargo skiff right up to our fire.”

“Bah,” Oarly plopped down and scowled.

“Are the instances related?” King Mikahl asked the Lion Lord.

The great wolves and Borg had left Dreen the day before. They were headed to Castlemont to try and spread some hope for the people there. The giant admitted that he was supposed to spy on the breed giants of Lokar for his king, as well. The joyful reunion was over and Mikahl was now in a private council chamber dealing with the current issues of the realm.

“It’s hard to say,” Lord Gregory answered. “The men in Southport were on one of Glendar’s three ships. They admitted as much, but they deserted when Glendar’s ship sank. They came to Westland to look after their families. The odd connection is that they said the ship sank off of the Valleyan Coast near Crags, but the more obvious commonality is that all of them, especially the two skeletons the Valleyan fishermen netted, should be dead, but aren’t.”

The room was silent for a while. High King Mikahl, Lord Gregory, Cresson the castle mage, and General Escott were sitting around an oak table in the modest room. The small chamber was annexed from Dreen’s throne room. They all agreed that a matter such as this one should be discussed in private. There was no reason to alarm the people with tales of walking dead men, even if they were true.

They’d just learned that a few weeks earlier a fisherman from the Valleyan village of Crags caught up two human skeletons in his nets. The skeletons had writhed and twisted and tried to get free of the tangle of ropes, but the quick deckhands worked swiftly enough to secure them. The skeletons were now in an iron cage. The fisherman captain mounted the cage on a horsedrawn wagon and was now dragging the spectacle from town to town making a fortune in copper pieces from the common folk. Queen Rosa’s mother, who still ruled over Seaward, had sent the scroll.

It said that the captain was there in Seaward City, saying that one of the skeletons was actually that of King Glendar.

The other incident was a little more disturbing. Outside of Westland’s main trade center, Southport, two other men who had fought with Glendar and Pael were alive when they shouldn’t be. They had been working the lumber trade, felling trees that would be shipped to the builders of Salazar. A miscut caused a towering pine to come crashing down on them. One man’s ribcage was crushed; the other had a branch speared completely through his guts. The incident happened days ago, yet both men were still speaking and alert. Even as their dead flesh was beginning to rot and fall away, they weren’t dying as they should be.

“Pael’s entire army was undead by the time he reached Xwarda,” Mikahl said. “I suppose some of the men, those on the ships who weren’t dead yet, had already been spelled to become as such.”

“So then we have three hundred of these— these things, running around?” General Escott asked, with more than a little alarm showing in his voice.

“One of the ships sank, so the number is more likely nearer two hundred,” said King Mikahl.

“Your Highness,” Cresson said, indicating that he would like to speak. Dreen’s Castle Mage smoothed his black robes nervously, waiting for Mikahl to respond.

“Cresson, it isn’t necessary to ask me permission to speak when we are in private counsel,” Mikahl laughed good-naturedly. “As a matter of fact, when we are not in the throne room, or formal court, you are hereby commanded to speak your mind to me, without asking permission to do so. Your respect is appreciated, but you would not be here if your opinions weren’t wanted.”

“Thank you, Highness,” Cresson said. He stood as he continued speaking. “The idea that some hundred souls are trapped under the sea is disturbing to me. The fact is that they will live as undead beings for eternity, or until their skulls are separated from their spines, or your blade draws in their souls and sends them where the gods will. The same goes for the men whom Pael spelled that still live. They will never truly die. This could turn into a serious problem at some point. There’s a spell, though, that the late Master Targon taught me a few years ago when I studied under him in Xwarda. The spell would reveal to me if a person was under this type of necromancy.” He paused, wrapped his hand around his long black goatee and stroked it slowly. “I think that if we can identify those men who were spelled by Pael while they still truly live, then we can counter their individual curses somehow. Master Sholt surely knows these spells as well.”

“What are you going to do, Cresson,” General Escott asked, “walk around the realm casting a spell on folks as you pass? Those men could be scattered about anywhere.”

“The two men in Southport would know some of the others who were on the ships,” Lord Gregory interjected. “From there we could start compiling a list.”

“Aye,” Mikahl said. “Lady Able has a firm grasp on things in Westland. I think General— I mean Lord Spyra, might be able to handle this sort of thing.”

“Agreed,” Lord Gregory nodded. “Spyra could use the distraction, I’m certain. The loss of his wife left him empty.”

“Aye.” Mikahl nodded. He was pleased to have Lord Gregory’s input. It was always sound.

“Excuse me, Your Highness,” Cresson said with a strange expression coming over his face as he hurried out of the chamber.

“Strange one, he is,” General Escott said after the door closed behind the mage. “I don’t much like the idea of magic, or those who study it. It’s unnerving, especially in battle.”

“He’s all right,” Mikahl said. “You should’ve met the castle wizard we had to put up with.” He shared a look with Lord Gregory.

“What was his name?”

“It was Pael,” Lord Gregory said with a halfhearted chuckle. “I’m sure most people think you’re a little strange as well, General.” He grinned and slapped Escott on the shoulder. “What with that tattoo-covered head and all.”

The general’s eyes narrowed and his face bunched up into a scowl. “It’s an Ultura tradition to be inked with your Spirit Chivon once you pass your rite of passage.”

“Aye, but on your head?” King Mikahl cringed at the idea of it. Loudin had been inked as well, but in those days Mikahl lacked the confidence to ask about more than a man such as Loudin offered. “Doesn’t it hurt?”

“It’s more than my head—”

The general’s answer was cut off by Cresson returning. The mage looked distraught as he hurried to get himself standing before King Mikahl.

“Your Highness,” he began. “Master Wizard Sholt has relayed a message. It originates from Prince Raspaar of Salaya. The monks have come under attack by dark winged creatures. These things were described as hellspawned beasts and baby dragons. I assume them to be wyvern due to that description, and the description of the wounds they found on the deceased. One of the dying monks told the prince that evil was brewing in the south. The minds there that Master Sholt trusts agreed that he had to mean from the Isle of Borina. It’s the only land south of Salaya.”

“Borina,” Lord Gregory said. “That’s where the red priests are from.”

“Maybe they have the staff you’re after,” General Escott suggested.

“I saw a priest fleeing Westland in the sky, on that black wyrm, not long after I killed the bitch.” Mikahl put his face in his hands and growled. “I should have known he’d taken the staff as soon as Sholt told me it wasn’t anywhere at Lakeside.”

“The Salayans are asking for your aid in taking military action against Borina.” Cresson continued. “The creatures destroyed most of something called the Grove. Sholt didn’t know what that was, but he said Salaya’s only mage was a novice at best, and wasn’t worth questioning.”

“Yes,” Mikahl looked at Lord Gregory for confirmation.

The Lion Lord nodded in the affirmative. The look on his face was anything but kind.

“Make a sending to Sholt,” Mikahl commanded hotly. “Explain to him I am personally going to Salaya to attend to this matter. If he is able, have the prince ready his forces to sail this night, if it is possible. Ask them to meet me on Borina. Tell Sholt of your idea to identify those that Pael put under his spell, as well.”

As soon as Cresson left to do as he was bidden, Mikahl ordered General Escott to send Commander Lyle and two dozen men to pick up the fisherman who was displaying the skeletons he’d caught in his nets. Only after the general was gone, and he was alone with Lord Gregory, did he speak of Hyden’s dire warning about the staff.

“I have to destroy it,” Mikahl said. “Hyden said it could be used to open another gateway.”

“I’ll keep the search for Phen and Master Oarly going while you’re away, Mik,” Lord Gregory said. “The two of them will turn up soon, I’m sure of it.”

“Aye.” Mikahl smiled through his anger. “It’s not like Phen can hide himself very well.”

“He still got that ring,” Lord Gregory reminded him. “But don’t worry, I’ll find them. You see to the other problem, and see what you can do for the fairy trees. Lady Trella would die if she knew they were harmed.”

“Aye.” Mikahl understood. He remembered the brief bit of romance the Lion Lord and Lady Trella had shared atop the mountain that sheltered the grove.

Mikahl didn’t waste any time. He pulled on a shirt of gleaming chain mail and made his way up through the castle to the sitting room where his wife, Queen Rosa, and Lady Trella, along with half a dozen ladies and little girls congregated daily. He knocked politely, and then strode into the room. Lady Trella scowled at him for not waiting for a response, but when he told Queen Rosa that he was leaving for a few days, Lady Trella let the look slip from her face.

After a long, passionate kiss that caused even the littlest of the girls to gasp and stare dreamily, he strode out onto the balcony, drew his sword, Ironspike, and let it fill him. He took a deep breath as the great symphony of its magic came rushing into his head. He found the melody for the bright horse and called it forth. All at once a brilliant flaming pegasus appeared beside him. With only a glance behind at the wide-eyed faces of the women, he climbed onto its back and held on as it leapt into the air.

Within minutes the Red City was far below and behind him. He felt exhilarated and anxious for battle as he went streaking southward toward.

***

Prince Raspaar of Salaya was the king of the island in every aspect save title. His father had turned over all aspects of governing the kingdom after the prince had cleverly made them wealthy beyond imagining. When King Glendar marched his army out of Westland to attack the east, nearly every able horse of the kingdom was commandeered and brought with them. Weeks later, when the Dragon Queen and her lizard-man army crawled out of the marshlands and took Westland for their own, she had the only land bridge to the east destroyed. The men and women left in Westland still had fields to plow, and carriages to pull, and a hundred other reasons to need horses. The prince began shipping Valleyan horses to Westland. He made a fortune for his little kingdom, and in the process he set up offices there. His people spied on the Dragon Queen for Mikahl and ultimately one of his ships carried Hyden Hawk and the High King into the land secretly so they could rescue Princess Rosa. It was during that rescue that the High King killed the Dragon Queen. Prince Raspaar and King Mikahl were not close by any means, but they trusted each other. The Prince was sure that his summons for aid in the matter of the Borinian demons would be answered. So sure, that he sent a pair of ships carrying half of his small army to the Island of Borina before he even received the High King’s response.