TST (49 page)

Well, no more. No more will I squander the lives of
my
men. No longer will I trek about swamps and wastelands for
your
cause. I am close to completing the suit so that its full power may be used but it will not be for your benefit. You want to be king? You are welcome to that headache but you can do it on your own merits, without my help and without your precious artifact. I will use the power that the armor provides to carve out my own little fiefdom. The only way I will ever give you Dundalor’s armor is if I come back to Southport and shove it up your arse one piece at a time!

General Ronald Baneford

Commander, Baneford’s Brood

Lord Alton covered his mouth with his hand in shock at the words written on the parchment. He could not believe that the general had turned his back on his lord and master like that. He also never knew that the general had such an artistic talent for at the bottom of the page were several detailed sketches of the general carrying out that last threat. The likenesses were quite uncanny though the chamberlain knew them to be physically impossible.

Lord Alton ordered the guards to round up some servants to clean up and repair the study as best they could and to avoid the duke at all costs for the next few days until he was able to speak with His Grace, though that may not be for a couple of days. Even Lord Alton was not about to approach the duke while he was in this state. The chamberlain sighed, stepped over the mounds of destruction, and went to mitigate whatever damage he could.

*****

Six dark figures dressed in black robes with hoods concealing their features sat around a circular table somewhere deep underground. Crypts lined the walls holding the bones of those who had once walked the lands a very long time ago. The air was dry and full of dust, the only sounds were those made by the six gathered around the raised stone disc.

“How much longer must we live with this abomination upon the throne?” one of the cloaked figures demanded.

“Patience, all is continuing as planned albeit not as fast as we had hoped. These things cannot be rushed. All of the pieces must be gathered for a smooth transition,” another replied.

“I am growing less certain of Duke Ulric’s ability to accomplish his task. What of this General Baneford? His man holds several pieces of Dundalor's Armor. What is to keep him from acquiring the entire set and seeking the throne himself?”

“His Grace has assured us that he has the general’s utmost loyalty. Besides, without the backing of the church any claim he would make would be wrought with strife even with the artifact. Nor does he have the army needed to try to take the throne by force.”

“With the armor he would be an army unto himself if the legends hold true.”

“The armor does not make one as invincible as the legends make it sound though he would most certainly be a formidable force. Obviously, the last person to don the armor was defeated, hence it ordered scattered throughout the realm. No, the greatest difficulty would be if this General Baneford withheld the armor for ransom, and considering what is at stake, it should be no problem to grant whatever he wished, within reason. The general is a commoner and anything he would desire would likely be common as well. Gold, women, a title of nobility; these things would be a small price to pay, and given his years of faithful service in fulfilling his task, I see no reason not to grant it. We might convince the duke to preempt such treasonous thoughts by hinting at the rewards that await him upon completion of his task.”

“But how much longer must we abide this bastard king? He is an embarrassment to the kingdom! What if Duke Ulric fails? What if we cannot find the final pieces? Are our men in place to take the throne by force?”

“We have multiple agents already in place. We will continue to replace men loyal to the king with our own as swiftly as we can. When the time comes, the transition should be relatively bloodless so long as Ulric succeeds on his end. Should he fail, the coup will be more difficult and much more blood will be shed, but it will be a small price to pay for our kingdom’s dignity.”

“What of these pet adventurers the king has employed to help him gain the artifacts? They pose a threat to our plans and should be eliminated!”

 “They are a bunch of fools. How they even succeeded in surviving that farce with the Pescaran’s is beyond me.”

“They may be fools but they have a fool’s luck as well. It would be best if we eliminate them.”

“I expect even their luck will be insufficient to allow them to survive Lazuul’s jungle. However, should they return, I shall take more direct actions. So, despite a few minor setbacks, our goals will be accomplished. It is the will of our sun lord.”

“Speaking of our shining lord’s will, what off these tales of undead? Many claims have now been substantiated by our own people and can no longer be dismissed as folk tales or ignored.”

“Indeed. Begin sending our members trained to deal with such things. In the coming times, it is more important than ever for the people to see us as a symbol of strength and reliability.”

“Blessed is the light of Solarian,” everyone around the table chanted in unison.

FROM THE AUTHOR

I decided that the tone set by the inclusion of Maude’s Marauders was far too discordant with the rest of the book so I removed their adventures where they failed to promote and progress the central theme or plot of the story.

However, I do enjoy their banter and know that many readers do as well so I have put their tale here as a separate, bonus short story. I hope you enjoy it. They will return later in the main story since they become intertwined with the plot and main characters.

(Deleted Scenes)

Maude stalked down the halls of Castle Stonemount in search of the rest of her adventuring party. She had just come from King Jarvin’s study where he had commanded that she and her group seek out a piece of Dundalor’s armor on the advice of his two advisors.

She found the elven wizard’s room first and entered without knocking, manners not being one of her stronger traits. Tarth was sitting cross-legged bent over a rack of burning incense dressed in immaculate robes of silk. His robes were layered and flowed in brilliant oranges and reds making him look like a living sunrise, his long hair colored to match.

The wizard looked up at the sound of the door opening and smiled vacuously. “Oh, hello Maudeline. Aren’t the butterflies beautiful?” he asked, grabbing at things in the air only he could see.

Maude let out a loud sigh and rolled her eyes. “Pack up your things, Tarth, we have a mission.”

Maude turned around to leave to continue informing the rest of her group.

“Oh, Maudeline,” Tarth called out to her.

“What, Tarth?”

“When did you grow a tail?” the wizard asked with a giggle. “It is quite splendid!”

Maude sighed and rolled her eyes once more as she stalked off in search of the other two misfits that completed the adventuring group known as Maude’s Marauders. She found the room that the cleric, Malek, was staying in next. At least he stayed in this room when he was not staying in some random woman of the castle’s room. Maude entered the room to multiple writhing forms and a series of giggles coming from under a silk sheet that covered a huge canopied bed.

“Malek! What do you think you are doing?” Maude asked in exasperation.

Several attractive female heads suddenly popped out from under the sheet at both ends of the bed. Long golden blond wavy locks adorned the top of the handsome man’s head that appeared between two pairs of feet and a red headed woman at the foot of the bed.

“Oh, hi, Maude. I’m uh, holding mass—” the cleric answered with a grin. “—and giving benediction!”

Maude sighed deeply and rolled her eyes. She did that a lot. “Pack up, we have a mission.”

“How long until we leave?”

“As soon as everyone is ready to go. How long will it take you to get ready?” Maude asked.

Malek made a quick count of the women in the bed. “About an hour—better make it an hour and half.”

“You’ve got thirty minutes!” Maude barked in frustration.

“All right.” Malek disappeared back under the sheet. “You ladies better hold on its going to get pretty rough!”

Maude slammed the door amidst a chorus of giggles and stalked off in search of her final party member. She looked in his room but found it empty so she decided to search downstairs. Instinct led her towards the kitchen, and given the gruff shouts that echoed down the hall and into the dining room, it appeared as though her hunch had been correct.

As she pushed open the swinging door that led into the kitchen, one of the castle’s hounds raced out of the door with a large sausage trapped between its jaws just as an axe embedded itself in the doorframe clipping the hairs off the end of the mutt’s tail.

The dog darted under the long table as a furious red-faced dwarf burst through the door preceded by a string of vile expletives. Borik Deepstone saw the shorn tip of the dog’s tail disappear under the long polished table. Using one of the chairs as a springboard, the dwarf leapt upon top of the table and ran down its length as fast as his stubby legs could carry him, his hobnailed boots gouging numerous divots in its polished surface.

With a furious battle cry, Borik launched himself off the end of the table with his arms outstretched before him. A loud yelp and a series of snarls and snapping jaws filled the spacious dining hall. Whether they were from the dog or the dwarf, Maude could not be sure. Maude watched the hound race out the door with its tail tucked between its legs as Borik appeared from around the end of the table wiping dog slobber off the sausage on his shirtsleeve.

  “Hey, Maude!” Borik greeted his leader. “What’s up?”

“Did the dog bite you?”

Borik waved off the thought with one meaty hand and spit out several dog hairs from his mouth. “That lily-livered mutt wouldn’t dare try and bite me.”

Maude was unable to keep from sighing and rolling her eyes. “Pack up your gear and meet us in courtyard in half an hour, we have a mission.”

Borik looked at the large woman before him suspiciously. “It ain’t undead is it? You know I don’t deal with undead!”

“No undead this time, Borik. It sounds like a pretty straight forward scavenger hunt this time.” Maude assured him.

“And no boats! I ain’t going on no boats ever again and you know darn well why!” Borik swore, thinking about their last ill-fated adventure at sea where they had been captured by cannibalistic sea dwellers and forced to fight to the death in their undersea arena. “No caves neither!”

“No boats, no caves, I got it.”

“All right then. I’ll be down in a bit,” Borik told her as he pried his axe from the ornately carved doorframe.

It was nearly an hour later before they were all gathered together in the courtyard sitting astride their mounts, heavy packs slung across the horses’ broad muscular rumps.

“So what is the mission, Maude?” Malek asked. “I assume we are looking for another piece of Dundalor’s armor. What are the details?”

Maude looked about warily. “I’ll explain it later. I don’t want to talk about it here where certain ears may hear.”

“You think there are spies in the castle?” Malek asked looking around.

“Something like that. Even if there are no spies there are some things that others just don’t need to hear,” she said, casting a sidelong glance at the dwarf.