Theft of Dragons (Princes of Naverstrom) (26 page)

 
Master Loral opened his mouth and bellowed out a cruel laugh. He laughed and laughed until tears streamed down his eyes and his body began convulsing in a strange fit of delirium. The shape of his face incrementally changed over the course of his laughter, and with terror, Sebine shrieked as his jaw unhinged and snapped down and back, ripping the skin, and the teeth and flap of the skin above the wizard's mouth rotated up and around until a black shape emerged from within the mouth. A demon's diseased face appeared, its glowing red eyes provoking every eye in the chamber, and it stretched out poxed hands from within the wizard's mouth and reached around and crushed Master Loral's skull until only the demon's head remained mounted atop the trunk.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

AS THE WIZARD'S head had been crushed by the demon, Tael summoned the shadows around himself, keeping his pleading eyes on Sebine. She read his intention and he felt the magical power from her hand flow into his and rise into a raging river of energy that joined with the casting of his spell. Together they disappeared into pale silhouettes and from the shocked glances of Kealian and the other knights, Tael knew they were utterly invisible.
 

"We always knew you'd turn traitor," the demon's silky, seductive voice said. "You thought you were plotting in secret without our knowledge? All you've done is to strengthen and solidify our position here in this pitiful Kingdom. And your moves against us? All for nothing. Your people living in Naverstrom have all turned against you, Vhelan. They no longer consider themselves Hakkadians. What is it that you still fight for? The forgotten memory of a ruined empire lost in the northern steppes?"

While the demon had spoken, Tael and Sebine stalked along the wall's edge circling around and behind the four wizards and the demon now mounted atop Master Loral's still animated body. Undiscovered, they positioned themselves in the shadows of an alcove containing the statue of the Goddess Naria, Protector of the Weak, Defender of the Downtrodden.

"We fight for what is right and true—for what we believe in." Master Vhelan's voice wavered as he faced the maniacal demon.

"Nothing of your world will remain. All Hakkadian memories, all histories, all lore and legend, all stories will be wiped clean from the world in the coming dark plague across this pathetic world. Night is rising." The demon raised the wizard's clenched fist into the air. "Night is rising! And all will bow down and prostrate themselves at the conquering feet of Prince Xanthes."

At the shouts and screams of pain pouring from Master Vhelan's mouth, Tael nodded to Sebine and she lifted her hands to cast. A pulsing light shot from her fingers and struck the wizards and Master Loral's demon-possessed body. Sword forward, Tael charged at Master Loral and plunged Balensaar into the wizard's heart. He shouted for Kealian's help and the knights lunged at the stunned wizards.

The demon roared and caused the attackers to plummet to their knees, hands clasped over their ears. Tael grimaced as Balensaar raged with brilliant, runic light and the sword gave him strength to push himself up. With Master Loral's lifeless body lying face-first in a pool of expanding blood, the demon tried to extricate itself from the wizard's trunk. But Tael was faster, bringing down Balensaar with blazing speed into the black bubble of the demon's wriggling form. The blade sliced through the thick, mucous membrane of the form and inky blood gurgled out from the demon.

An abominable wail poured into the air from the demon's mouth and rose midway up to the ceiling, swirled as a black vapor cloud, and released itself as ash onto the now sliced and slaughtered bodies of the wizards.

The battle was over. Tael quickly stabbed out the eyes of the wizards—remembering the admonishment in Perinith—and even found and bludgeoned the loose eyeballs of Master Loral rolling around in the blood. The knights and sorcerers looked horrified at his action, but remained steady and did not intervene.

Master Vhelan had slumped unconscious to the ground and his elder sorcerers kneeled at his side, feeling his pulse and waving glowing hands over his head. Soon the old Hakkadian leader roused and opened fatigued eyes to glance around. The quick shock that appeared on his face melted away by the reassuring nods of his fellow sorcerers.

"The young supplicant slew the demon?" Kealian's voice was disbelieving and his eyes studied Tael with a hard, probing stare.

The old sorcerer was lifted to his feet as the group was met by a new squad of soldiers led by Bishop Draven. The priest surveyed the room with curious, critical eyes until he gazed at the bubbling pool of black blood: the remains of the demon and Master Loral's body.

"And to think I helped keep that demon alive in Perinith." Tael's voice was slow and apologetic as he remembered the battle against the two Hakkadian sorcerers. "I thought I was saving Master Loral but I was really fighting for the demon...so bizarre."

"Don't you worry a thing," Bishop Draven said, and rested a hand on Tael's shoulder. "You did what you thought was right at the time. You had no idea what infested the wizard."

"Likely the demon was weak and newly burrowed in Master Loral from his trip to Naverstrom." Master Vhelan studied the grotesque remains. "Little wonder there are only few remaining wizards here...scores must have fled when they sensed the dark change in their Master."

The sorcerer shuffled forward and kicked through the remains above the wizard's headless trunk until he unearthed a silver amulet that had hung around the wizard's neck. "Your blade, boy. Destroy the charm."

Tael obeyed and brought Balensaar down and shattered the silver amulet in a sparkle of electric-blue light. The charm protecting the King was broken. The group stared solemnly at the fading light of the amulet. More squads of soldiers strode through the room, guided by sorcerers to probe deeper into the Arcanum.

"Don't ruin anything," Sebine said, and fixed a firm gaze on Master Vhelan. "The Arcanum is part of our legacy as a people. Give me your word that you won't lay waste or burn anything inside. Do what you must to stop any resistance, but leave the sanctity of the Arcanum intact."

Master Vhelan seemed surprised at Sebine's strength, but nodded in acceptance and several sorcerers chased after the squads that had gone further inside. "Very well, we will respect your wishes, Princess Sebine. Though our work is not yet finished. Dawn comes soon and with it the death of King Braxion. Let us go."

"You have the blessing of the Calathian Church," Bishop Draven said, and bowed to Sebine and Master Vhelan.

"And that of the wizards of the Arcanum." Heads turned to where the voice of Master Greyth Shalinor spoke. He wore robes of brilliant blue silk that shimmered and shone in the dim light. His eyes were fierce and commanding and the room went quiet at his ambling approach.

Tael wanted to run to him, to explain everything, for he was ashamed for being a part of the assault on the Arcanum. When he'd arrived to witness that massive steel battering ram slamming into the great gates, his heart felt angry and guilty at the violation of the sacred place. But seeing his grandfather's sober, accepting face Tael realized that everything was ok.

"You sure made a mess of my gates." Master Greyth scanned around at the rubble and ruin. "Took me years to cast that spell over the keystone. Impossible to break through with your weak, Hakkadian magic." He took a step towards Princess Sebine and inspected her as if she were some strange creature. "You did this? You're the Princess but you don't smell like King Braxion. Different father? Has to be true...you're too pretty to come from his corrupt seed. But what's this ring that you wear on your finger? May I look at it?"

Sebine raised her hand in acceptance and Master Greyth came close and studied the ring with cautious eyes. "Elven made...a magical ring...ah...a precious and powerful ring. Who gave it to you?"

At her hesitant eyes, Master Vhelan ordered the remaining soldiers and sorcerers to leave the chamber.

"My father gave it to me through Dakar, a trader from the City of Yhalan." She tilted her as if remembering the scene, a small smile playing on her lips that made Tael jealous. "This is the Ring of Galdora, an ancient Elven artifact. Master Vhelan told me all about it."

Master Greyth sniffed. "A pact with your enemy is better than a pact with the devil..." He glanced at Master Vhelan. "Never thought I would willingly ally myself with the Hakkadians. Each one of you is still bound in some way to the Princes of Naverstrom. Nothing you can do about it."

At his grandfather's words Tael pictured the severed head of the Hakkadian sorcerer, his eyes moving around, and the ghoul that was summoned by the sorcerer's death. The brutal truth of it all sobered Tael and caused him to gaze suspiciously at the Hakkadians. They might be temporary allies but they were still strange, powerful creatures.

"Now tell me your plan of how you intend to kill the King." Master Greyth scanned between Bishop Draven and Master Vhelan. "And do keep in mind that I was the wizard that killed old King Salgar..."

The Hakkadian leader narrowed his eyes at Master Greyth and began to tell of their plan. Tael's grandfather listened carefully to the sorcerer's words, only interrupting to ask clarifying questions, and allowed Master Vhelan to finish outlining the key points of their attack plan. A few times Bishop Draven had offered items to round out the plan, and the sorcerer had accepted his words with a grave nodding of his head.

"A solid plan...well thought out. I'll give you credit for that." Master Greyth gave both men a congratulatory bow. "However it's flawed and will fail. Now wait, before you protest, hear me out. I listened while you spoke. King Braxion doesn't think like regular men—or Hakkadians for that matter. He doesn't have routines." He looked to Sebine for confirmation and received it with a nod of her head. "So you plan to go in and find the King in his chambers and murder him? Unfortunately, he's not there and he's not drunk...I already checked. And even worse, he's assembled an army of soldiers outside the gates with his son Prince Brandeth, along with many other nobles still loyal to the King—despite all your bribes and words of loyalty received."

Master Greyth Shalinor grinned like a fox who's tricked a hunter. "Better secure your dragons and quick, before he gets to them too. Don't look so surprised, just accept that your
loyal
sorcerers were bribed or manipulated, likely family in Naverstrom with a knife at their throat. Always something like that to get to a man."

Feet moving quickly for the door, the group followed Master Vhelan outside where they found him counting the dragons. "We're missing half of the dragons, how could it be? I only allowed those most loyal to me to handle them."

"Including the ones who went off to help King Braxion fight the Malathians?" Master Greyth's eyes shone. "He never went west, he flew north to Naverstrom and secured
your
people to his cause. Question everything and don't assume loyalties."

The old sorcerer's face went pale at the words, but his eyes quickly focused back to a fierce determination. "We still have an army, we still have dragons and sorcerers, and we still hold the city secure."

Bishop Draven's mask of certainty splintered under the news, and he glanced around at the few dragons and squads remaining, and he frowned a deep frown of regret. "How many men does the King have?"

"Thousands. He's assembled all his forces, summoned them from the Kingdom's cities and far outposts, and has consolidated them outside the walls. By now he might have already bribed or convinced the guards at the gates to open them. All you've managed to do is to steal a few dragons, break a charm that protects the King, and make a mess out of the Arcanum. The next time you develop such a foolish plan you might want to include me first."

"Fucked again," said the Bishop, who lowered his shoulders and shook his head from side-to-side. "Can't go north, my brother will likely suffer for my moves. What to do?"

"Call your people out of the Arcanum and disperse. There's no reason to die. You can always regroup and fight the King another time. You'll lose today if you try to go after him now, especially after you've made the first moves. Your two hundred men won't stand a chance against those numbers. And the longer you wait the worse it will get. My spies in the north have informed me that more dragons and more sorcerers are on their way to Trikar. In another day, or a few hours even, you'll lose control of the dragons you've got. Go to the dragon's nest, steal all the gold you can get, and flee to a safe place where you can regroup."

Tael felt a knot wrench his stomach at his grandfather's words. Once again he was on the run. He looked over and caught Sebine's eyes and saw the disappointment and dread on her face. His hands reached out and held hers and he squeezed reassuringly, but her lips only gave a slight smile that soon faded from her mouth.
 

"We'll go together...anywhere. Maybe south to the Islands of Marr, or west to the Malathian Kingdom." Tael hoped her eyes would flare with some life at his suggestions, but they stayed cold and distant. "We could go east to Yhalan and maybe—"