The Sampler Platter: A Little Bit of Everything
Page 78
Before a Fall
The Emperor, the tyrant King who had brought every known nation and people under his iron rule, watched in amusement as the soldier’s spear finally pierced the breast of his unarmed foe. The prisoner slumped to the ground and lay still after nearly ten minutes of vain attempts to defend himself and avoid his pursuer. The Emperor was actually quite pleased, for usually such victims either went to their knees in terror or ran for their lives, either way ending quite tragically in a very short period of time. The victorious soldier turned from his victim to receive the adulation of the crowd and even notice from the Emperor himself. The Emperor smiled and clapped to reward the man for his valiant efforts. Such executions, either by soldiers or wild beasts in the arena called ’the Pit’ by its supporters and detractors alike, were an every day occurrence and helped to distract the disquiet populace from their uneasy thoughts of rebellion. It also served as a good reminder that any sort of rebellion would not be tolerated.
The last of the independent nations had fallen to the Empire’s might and come into line as a tributary state; without the constant war, there was now little to unite and distract the common folk who resented their lack of freedom and the obscenely high taxes endured to keep the bloated Empire functioning. The Emperor had proposed this grisly pastime as a substitute for the once constant wars and also as a means of entertaining and cowing the aggrieved populace. Criminals, rebels, traitors, heretics, those who failed to pay their taxes, and those who fell afoul of anyone in power in the immense bureaucracy often ended as the victims of such a spectacle. It was an excellent way to vent the people’s need for bloodlust and violence while disposing of political adversaries and other folk dangerous to the peace of the realm while encouraging others not to follow suit.
The Emperor turned from the triumphant soldier to one of his many advisors and toadies standing not far off, “who was that fellow? He seemed a bit braver than most and gave us more sport than is usual for such wretches. Why is he not in our service rather than dead in the arena?”
The nearest advisor said, “he is one of an obscure and quickly shrinking sect out of the north. They still cling to the old heresies and refuse to acknowledge you as the rightful Lord of Creation. He would have made an excellent addition to our illustrious soldiery but they are a stubborn and obstinate people and not even the threat of death or torture can make them submit to our ways. The only thing to do with them is toss them to the lions.”
The Emperor was confused, “which of my subject states allows such heretics within its borders?”
The advisor said, “it is no tributary state my lord from whence these rebels come but a little city-state on the brink of forever so far from anywhere that they have escaped notice until now.”
The Emperor smiled cruelly, “all must feel the weight of my yoke! You will send my army with all speed and take this obstinate little Burg. Raze the city to the ground and put all within to the sword unless they recant of their heathen ways. All the penitent are to be brought back and resettled in more civilized territory that we may keep an eye upon them to see if their conversion is in fact real. This will serve as a delightful example to any foolish enough to disobey me or foment ideas of rebellion. All nations and peoples must come under my rule or they shall cease to be!” The advisor bowed deeply and ran from his lord’s presence to seek out the generals to impart their new orders immediately. The Emperor again turned his gaze to the downed man and imagined a whole city of such warriors on its knees before him.
“You want us to what?” demanded one haggard General as the advisor told them of the Emperor’s plans.
The counselor continued, “you will send a thousand men to Astoria at once. Destroy the city and all within who will not listen to reason.”
An aghast man, red-faced with anger said, “you cannot be serious! We can barely maintain the peace as it is. We have a half dozen rebellions brewing at the moment and another dozen are waiting their chance. If we take that many men out of active service the whole Empire may collapse!”
The advisor scowled, “I am serious, deadly serious! You will do as you are told or you can explain your failure to the lions tomorrow in the Pit! You will also see that it is done swiftly and without weakening the Empire in the process else the failure is upon your own heads. The Emperor has spoken and thus will it be done!”
The six men refrained from making further comment but anger, frustration, and astonishment were plain upon their faces. God or not, the Emperor risked much in this little enterprise. He was swatting at mosquitoes when a horde of ravening wolves slavered within the ranks of his own citizenry ready to throw the Empire into chaos. The Brethren were certainly heretics and rebels, but they were a dwindling sect and too far from anywhere to cause problems. They were easily enough dealt with on an individual basis and never moved en masse. The local lords swiftly and severely dealt with any such infidels within their own bounds fearing to draw the Emperor’s attention upon themselves. Within a generation they would be all but extinct, yet the Emperor was not content to let them die a natural death but would endanger the peace of the realm to destroy this last merry band of outlaws.
They feared the repercussions of such an impetuous act, but they feared for their own lives even more so General Octova was dispatched with a thousand men to deal with the situation. Octova cared little for spiritual or philosophical matters; that they were heretics did not bother him. All he cared was that the Emperor had said they must be destroyed and so would he do. He was the least thoughtful and the most action prone of the Generals present that day in the capital so it was he that was sent on this errand. The others had risen in rank through years of dedicated and careful service whereas Octova had risen quickly in the ranks due to success in battle and several fortuitous incidents that had brought him to the attention of the powers that be. He was the perfect man for such a job.
He had heard the objections of the others, but the Emperor had not risen to his present position because he was a fool therefore he must be aware of such circumstances and had made plans accordingly, even so, did he not claim some divine right for himself? No mere mortal would claim such if it were not true thus he must have foreseen that all would turn out as it should and no doubt had the power to see that it did. Whatever the reason the Emperor felt confident in this venture, Octova would certainly not be the man to dissuade him. He did not understand why these vagrant storytellers and vigilantes had suddenly come under the heel of the Emperor, but if he wanted them destroyed Octova would see to it. The other generals watched them ride away with a growing sense of dread and wondered if the Empire would survive while so many men who were vitally needed elsewhere were sent on this fool’s errand to the end of forever. The people felt the lightening of the guard about them and those of a more rebellious tendency smiled to think that perhaps the time had come.
Astoria had grown much in the past fifty years. As one country after another fell to the burgeoning Empire, refugees had fled to this little outpost of civilization and freedom in hopes of a better life. Those who still believed in the Master also fled for their lives to the last place on Earth where such was yet allowed. As the Empire spread, so did its heresy that the Emperor was some sort of divine being sent to lead men out of the darkness of independence and into the glorious future of ultimate harmony. As such, all must worship said Emperor or be seen as heretics and rebels and suffer the consequences attendant thereunto. While the ranks of the Brethren swelled with the influx of refugees to Astoria, their job was made tenfold more difficult and their mortality rate quickly grew with the advance of the Empire. As the Empire became the norm as newly conquered people got used to the idea, the influx began to dwindle and within a generation ceased altogether and Astoria, the Master, and the Brethren were all but forgotten by most of the world’s people. The servants of the Master still went abroad, but more often than not their voices went unheeded by an unintereste
d or terrified populace or were suddenly silenced for heresy. So far the Empire had ignored Astoria as too far away and insignificant to be dealt with but with the advent of peace within the realm, its eyes turned to this last obscure and independent country.
While the eyes of the Empire turned outward, turmoil began to brew within. The people were oppressed and abused and had lost all sense of dignity and meaning in their lives. They were restless and verging on desperate which was a perfect recipe for anarchy. With the voice of the Brethren all but silenced and the Emperor hated by most of his subjects, the time was ripe for rebellion. The Empire was vast and any weakening of the military strength in a certain area would be an ideal time to flex rebellious muscles. There were those with motives both idealistic and sinister who fed the fire of disquiet thoughts and slowly began to push for the conflagration to commence. While Astoria was concerned with its imminent survival, the people began to ponder the possibilities of a future without the Empire. The more sinister proponents of rebellion were more than happy to see the end of Astoria and also to be offered this perfect chance to feed the flames of chaos.
The advisors, generals, lords, and underlings of the Emperor also saw this as an opportune moment to test the strength of the Empire, perhaps if things did not go as planned one of their own might step up to claim the power that the disgraced Emperor might then be forced to lay down. What seemed a jovial outing or a mere farce to the power blinded Emperor, who thought himself undefeatable after accruing such power, might prove to be his downfall and then he and all with him would descend into utter chaos while the Nameless One whom he denied would sit in the shadows and laugh as he fell. There was far more at stake during this one small enterprise than any could yet see.
The sun had vanished but a pale glimmer of lighter blue on the horizon lingered to remind the Lady of Astoria that night was not yet fully upon her. Suddenly a great gust of wind from the west blew in clouds darker than any she had ever seen in the waking world. They covered the entire sky and all was black about her; lightning flashed and thunder roared in the distance and she knew that a maelstrom was on its way. She jolted awake and wondered what this dream might portend. It was still dark outside her windows and no lamp was lit though she could see clearly enough to discern the accouterments of the little room. It took a moment for her to realize from whence the light had come, but suddenly she was on her knees before its source.
The Master towered above her in her little bedchamber and she felt her eyes drawn into his. She looked up and he said, “these have been dark and difficult times in which I have set you to lead my people, but things shall grow darker before the dawn. Even now, the soldiers of the Empire march upon Astoria to destroy all within that refuse to deny me. You will send fifty of your servants west to meet the oncoming thousand and fifty more shall wait by the cliffs upon the sea. Of those sent west, few shall return.” She looked at him then in horror that this perhaps might be the end of Astoria and the Brethren, but there was such peace in His presence that such idle thoughts quickly vanished and only determination to obey remained. She did not understand, and perhaps this was the end of all they held dear, but in the end what did it matter? The Master knew all and all things would be accomplished according to His will in the end. Their duty was simply to obey, whether they understood or not they must still trust. She nodded her head in grim acceptance, he smiled and said, “fear not for I shall not forsake my own.” Then he was gone.
She stood, her head aching with the wonder of such revelations and quickly summoned her servant. The sleepy eyed Council of Six was quickly assembled and the Lady paced before them, telling all that the Master had revealed to her. One of the Teachers asked, “are we to abandon Astoria and flee elsewhere to safety?”
The Lady gave her a grim look and said, “the Master said nothing about fleeing the city. Where would we go? What would we do? How would the entire population of the city survive in the wilderness? We would simply be a slow moving and hungry target easily pursued and destroyed as we fled. We shall remain here and send forth those as the Master instructed.”
Said one of the Warriors, “how are fifty to fight off a thousand? Of what use can our warriors be by the sea when the enemy shall certainly strike the city?”
The Lady shook her head, “I understand no more than you, but we must do as we have been instructed else all is lost. Perhaps all is lost anyway, the Master did not guarantee victory only that he would look after His own. We will trust in him as ever we have and do exactly as he has instructed.” She looked at her six advisors and each nodded grimly and she knew they would not lose heart in the burgeoning dark. They returned to their beds to await the dawn but sleep was long in coming, if it came at all.
Morning found the keep abuzz with rumor and speculation, which was swiftly cut short as the Lady assembled the entire population of the castle and then afterwards spoke to all the residents of Astoria. From the general population there came murmurs of fear but the Brethren remained firm in their trust in the Master and their resolve soon won over the other residents of the city. A few fled, not trusting either the Master or the Emperor but the rest chose to remain, come what may. Supplies were laid by for a siege. Folk from the outlying farms and villages were brought into the city or fled. Scouts and sentries were posted to alert everyone at the first sign of the enemy. The most important task however was to assemble those that would ride West to their doom or East to the sea. There were not enough of the Brethren within the city to meet the Master’s quota but each day brought more and more of the Lady’s scattered servants home and soon the number was met.
Within a week, both companies were ready to ride to their assigned positions. She paced before the assembled companies and said, “the future is uncertain and unquestionably grim for those of you riding West, but you each agreed to go and the Master shall certainly ride with us all. The rest of us shall await here to see what shall come of this matter. I do not know the course of things, but know with a certainty that we have nothing to fear, no matter what comes of this incident. One way or another, all things shall be accomplished according to the Master’s will. Farwell!” There was no cheering but all exchanged grim, though excited smiles and hasty farewells ere they rode off into the uneasy future. Those going east wondered how their presence in such a forgotten place might avail anyone and those going west knew with near certainty that this was their last ride in the mortal sphere, but with the unquestioning courage of their kind, they did not worry about the future or their impending doom, but trusted fully in their Maker.
Corik had only been numbered among the Brethren for three months and was uneasy as he rode alongside his Mentor, a Warrior with over a century’s worth of experience called Byorn. Byorn glanced at his uneasy apprentice and asked, “having second thoughts?” They rode west and knew that their lifespan was probably counted in days but rode out nonetheless.
The boy smiled sheepishly, “I just never thought to die so young.”
Byorn laughed grimly, “it is not too late to turn back. But I would not lose hope quite yet. Most of us are certainly doomed, but there is ever hope in the Master on both sides of eternity.”
The boy sighed, “I agreed to this and will see it through. You are right, I should not despair as we are in his keeping regardless. Forgive my fear.”
Byorn smiled gently, “fear is a natural part of life, but we must not let it prevent us doing that which we must and certainly not let it overcome our trust in the Master. There is nothing to fear for those who trust in Him, but sometimes it is very easy to forget that. Even I struggle with that from time to time and I have been doing this much longer than you!”
The boy smiled nervously, “really?”
Then Corik sighed, “I shall do my best, but I still do not look forward to what is to come.”
Byorn laughed, “it is just another adventure my young friend, and what can be more exciting than t
o see what lies beyond death and this fallen mortal sphere?”
The boy smiled, “I never looked at it that way. I suppose we all must die eventually, it is a natural part of life and what have I to fear after?”
The man smiled and said, “nothing as long as you are faithful to the Master.”
They rode on for several days as fast as their unicorns could run. Finally, they stopped in the midst of the road and knew they had come far enough. The company was divided into three parties and vanished into the woods upon either side of the road to await the coming army. Scouts were sent out to keep watch and finally the day of reckoning had come. Before the enemy horsemen came into sight, the leader of the small band of Brethren rode up to Corik and said, “you will not engage in the fighting. Stay hidden in the woods and once all is settled, ride back to Astoria and tell the Lady all that happened here and what the enemy plans to do next.”
The boy was aghast that he would not be allowed to join in the fighting after he had spent so long preparing himself to die in battle. He glanced helplessly at Byorn who said, “perhaps you will not have to die this day after all. I have enjoyed our time together. Whatever happens, may the Master ride with you.”
The boy sighed but said nothing and rode a little deeper into the woods that he might be hidden from casual sight yet still watch what was to come. His unicorn shared his consternation that they would not meet the enemy in battle this day, but both knew their duty and would do it accordingly. The invaders were not long in coming and were heard long before they could be seen. The Brethren remained hidden in the woods as the long file of horsemen passed and it was not until the last third of the column was passing that the Brethren broke cover and fell upon the horsemen. They came at them in three companies, one from each side and one from the rear. As soon as they broke cover, the unicorns revealed their true forms and chaos broke loose as the horses panicked and tried to flee.
The Brethren fought valiantly, as did their mounts, but in the end, even with the element of surprise and the chaos of the horses, the ambush was soon overcome and all the perpetrators lay dead or dying upon the road but five times their number of enemy soldiers had suffered a similar fate. Corik watched helplessly as Byorn and the others plunged into the bucking and screaming mass of horses. He watched his mentor fight for a few moments and then he took a sword in the chest, but before he fell, Byorn’s eyes sought out his hidden apprentice and silently begged him to ride. The boy hardly held back the tears but turned his mount and rode as hard as he could, but he did not get far. Several of the enemy horsemen had been carried into the woods by their terrified mounts and now they blocked the path Corik was taking.
His unicorn screamed a challenge and reared, revealing his glory and sending the exhausted horses into fresh spasms of terror, but their riders leapt from the saddles before they could be carried off again, bared their swords, and prepared to go down fighting. One of the enemy soldiers leapt onto the back of the rearing unicorn and seized the boy, holding a dagger to his throat. Cowed, the unicorn draped himself in darkness and eyed Corik’s captors balefully. The man smirked and said, “that’s a good pony, behave yourself and I might spare the kid. Try anything stupid and you will both die. Now get lost!”
Corik nodded grimly and the valiant beast screamed his frustration as he vanished into the woods. He could feel the faithful creature watching grimly from a distance and knew that he would stay as long as Corik lived which likely would not be long, but he dared not confront the men, for one of them at least must live to carry the message. He chafed at the terrible decision suddenly thrust upon him, but he would do what he must.
They emerged from the woods as the company was setting itself to rights. A great pyre had been built where Octova was preparing to burn his own dead while the Brethren, after being relieved of anything of use or value, were left to rot where they lay. The returning soldiers went directly to the General and presented their prize. He eyed the boy in surprise and said, “a traitor? A scout? How did this imp survive the suicidal attack of his elders? Tell me what plans your Lady has boy and I might spare your life, otherwise you will join the rest of your sorry comrades.”
Octova eyed the carnage of the battle with grim pleasure. Corik’s heart quailed within him. He did not want to die yet he could not betray his friends. Octova growled, “have you a tongue boy? I do not have time for this. Speak now or you shall be forever rendered speechless.” The boy shivered and glanced at the blank and staring eyes of his late companions, wondering if his own corpse would soon be littering the road. What was he to do? He did not want to die but did he dare betray all he had once believed in? Would he risk his soul to save his life? He swallowed hard, perhaps a quick death would not be so bad after all. He tried to remember Byorn’s words but they gave him little comfort in such a moment. “Bind him,” said Octova, “and toss him on the pyre with our own dead. Let us see if the fire can loosen his tongue.”
Corik went white, screamed for mercy, and would have fallen had not his captors held him firm. Perhaps a quick death was easy enough to face but to be burned alive? It was unthinkable! Certainly the Master must forgive him under the circumstances. He felt something rip within himself, a veritable rending of his heart. In the distance he heard his unicorn scream in heartrending grief. He had sworn the Oath and promised the Master to be faithful until death. He had sworn his very soul to this service, but the price was too much. He could not pay it. Tears stung his eyes as he went to his knees and heard himself say, “they flee by the sea. All Astoria has fled east to the sea. Go thence and you will find them.”
Corik’s eyes were large with shock and terror. That was not what he had intended to say! What had happened? Not only had he broken Oath but he had also unintentionally lied to his captors! “Finally,” laughed Octova grimly, “we ride for the sea. Bind the wretch and leave him for the scavengers.” The boy opened his mouth to protest but a swift strike from the man holding him sent him tumbling into darkness. Octova laughed all the more, “fool! To think we would reward a traitor with his life!” They finished seeing to their own casualties and turned east towards the sea. Corik was left bound hand and foot, to be preyed upon by the scavengers that would soon take advantage of the remnants of the battle.
He was alone in the darkness and it was a place more cold and empty than any tomb in the mortal world. Suddenly a light impinged upon his utter loneliness and the Master stood before him. Corik took a step back in mortal terror but though everything within him wanted to bend knee to the terrible being that towered over him he stubbornly held his ground. Who was he to bow before the Master? Was he not his own man? Had he not proven himself such by denying Him to whom his Oath was sworn? He would not now grovel in terror before this creature whom all the rest of the world had also denied. Wrath sparkled on the surface of those eyes but agonizing sorrow, of Corik’s own invention, filled their boundless depths.
This time he did fall to his knees weeping in horror and sorrow and nearly screamed, “how can you have done such a thing? Why did you not protect your people? Why have you let me fall into darkness?”
The Master glanced about him and suddenly Corik could see the road littered with the dead. He said with quiet finality, “those you call dead are they that truly live. You have chosen of your own accord to abandon me and join the ranks of the dead, though you yet draw breath. You are a corpse that has the ability to move. You have tasted of my blood and yet have forsaken me and thus you have entered an eternal death from which there is no rescue.”
Corik screamed in agony, “but why did you let this happen? Why did they all have to die?”
The Master said quietly, “and who are you to judge Me and my will? Have you the least idea of how the universe should function? They died to protect others and did not go unwillingly to their deaths. They knew there was something greater than themselves and that they are in my keeping come
what may. Men have chosen to work evil and thus they suffer the consequences of their actions. These chose to die that others might live. In the end all will be set aright, but for now the world continues on in brokenness and sorrow until the appointed time. Each thinking creature has a choice to make and that choice will rule over their entire eternity. You have made your choice and now you must ever live with it. You thought to deny me to gain rescue from my enemies, but even this circumstance I have used for the good of others. You have lied to me and all others and now you will never be able to speak anything but lies.”
“I hate you,” said the boy, “I do not know why I ever wanted anything to do with you. I welcome my fate if only to spare me from you!”
The Master sighed and said, “you have condemned yourself and even so, I still love you. But you are lost to me. We shall not speak again.”
Suddenly Corik was alone again in the dark but it was not the dark of the starless heavens but simply of sleep. His head hurt fiercely but the pain in his heart was worse. What had he done? What was he to do? He came slowly to conscious awareness of himself and opened his eyes. It was evening and already the wreckage was alive with black, avian forms taking advantage of the free meal before them. His stomach turned at the thought that he too would suffer that fate. Suddenly he became aware of a great black raven with far too intelligent eyes perched upon his chest.
A wave of utter terror washed over him, he had faced the Master in his wrath and disappointment but here was utter evil. “Cast you out has he?” spoke the bird.
“No,” said the boy who could not speak the truth.
The raven scoffed, “a lovely little curse that. Sadly I cannot reverse it quite yet. He is still the more powerful of the two of us but for how long?” The boy’s eyes widened when he realized what this bird must be. The bird smiled darkly, “he will not have you, with your lying tongue mortal men will turn you out, what is left you? You are already mine regardless, but I have things that need doing and can make what remains of your life far more pleasant and satisfying than all your current prospects hold. I will give you power beyond imagining. Power enough to exact revenge upon all those who stand in your way. Well?” The boy smiled grimly not trusting his tongue but the bird knew his answer. He croaked a laugh and disappeared into the darkening forest. The boy suddenly found himself loose from his bonds and followed into the murk of the woods, for the first time that day hope seemed to stir in his heart. But it was not the joyful hope of the Master but the dark and brooding eagerness of the vengeful heart.
Byorn took a sword in the chest, sought out Corik, and then fell into darkness. When he came to himself, it was to find a pair of enemy soldiers searching for anything of value secreted about his person. They saw him stir and the one said to the other, “he is alive!”
The other laughed, “not for long, look at him.”
The first appraised the wounds that marred the stricken man and laughed grimly, “he does not deserve the mercy of swift death. His wounds will make an end of him soon enough if the scavengers do not.”
They laughed together and went on to examine the next fallen Brother, leaving Byorn in a half conscious daze of pain and agony. The enemy soldiers finished their morbid tasks and made ready to ride. Suddenly a little company emerged from the woods and approached the General. They exchanged a few words and Byorn watched as best he could from his position. His heart sank when he recognized Corik but it nearly broke when he heard a unicorn scream in grief and saw the boy fall weeping. He heard some amused commentary among the soldiers and then to his astonishment they turned towards the sea. What became of the boy, Byorn could not see from his position nor could he move in his current condition. The day was quickly failing and Byorn’s strength with it. He welcomed the darkness that was gnawing at his vision; the pain was nearly unbearable and his heart was near to breaking over what had become of Corik. The avian scavengers had been growing more numerous with each passing hour and soon their numbers would fill the sky. So far Byorn had escaped their attention.
He heard the hoarse croaking of a raven and a voice he knew to be that of Corik. He turned his head in that direction and nearly fainted for the pain. He saw the raven and the boy vanish into the darkness and wondered what had just happened. He returned to the least painful position he had found and flinched to find the Master towering over him in the dark. The Great Unicorn nuzzled him gently and said, “I need one to ride to Astoria and tell what has happened here, but more tragically your apprentice has broken Oath and taken up with my Enemy. The world has never before seen nor ever after will they see such a horrid and powerful creature as he will become in service to the Dark One. You must follow after and make sure that his tyranny is of short duration. The army rides east to the sea and from thence shall never return.”
Byorn’s eyes filled with tears, “how can I kill my own apprentice?”
The Master shook his head gravely, “for he is no longer the boy you knew but shall become something altogether terrible. For the sake of all mortals you must do this thing though it tries you greatly.” Byorn nodded weakly though tears still filled his eyes. The Master smiled gently and said, “never forget that I am ever with you my son. Rise and ride to Astoria with all haste.”
Suddenly the Master was gone but Byorn found himself whole and healed in mind and body. He stood weakly and wondered how he was to reach Astoria swiftly afoot, for his own unicorn had fallen with all the rest. A sound like a heart breaking drew his attention to something in the woods behind him. A vaguely equine shaped shadow stepped out of the darker shadows about him. It was Corik’s former mount and a sadder sight Byorn had never seen. The Master had bidden him seek out the man that stood before him but he could not quite bring himself to trust humans again, after his former master’s betrayal it felt as if his heart had been ripped in two.
Byorn threw his arms around the great neck and wept into the mane saying, “I know exactly how you feel in his betrayal, but ours is nothing to the sorrow the Master himself must feel. Come we had best be about the Master’s business ere worse mischief comes of this.” The great creature nodded grimly and allowed the grieving man to mount and together they rode to Astoria to tell the tragic tale.
The army rode on and finally reached the sea. In confusion they stood upon the towering cliffs that dropped sharply to the sea many hundreds of feet below. How could the fools escape by water if this was what the coastline was like? Octova growled, “he lied to us! I was certain he had betrayed his foul master to save his own life but why risk it in a lie?” He never found out, for as he stood upon the brink of the precipice with the rest of his horsemen, fifty unicorns in all their splendor emerged from the woods behind them and drove the terror stricken mounts of the enemy into the sea with their riders yet upon their backs. The few survivors were easily chased down and none came back to tell the tale to the eager Emperor. As the days passed and no word came from Octova or his men, the uneasy thoughts and rebellious aspirations began to take shape and form. The Emperor’s enemies plotted in dark corners and abandoned rooms and soon the entire realm would be up for grabs for the strongest taker.
Corik vanished into the deepest woods of the north and there made vows and carried out rituals darker and more horrible than mortal mind dares imagine. He clung to his new master as a drowning man clings to the wreckage that once was his ship. So his power and evil grew until he was no longer quite human and altogether something quite terrible. Finally he emerged from his dark exile, ready to strike at the heart of the Empire that was beginning to fray at the seams and rot in the middle.
Byorn had ridden back to Astoria and told his tragic tale and soon riders from the sea returned with what had happened upon the sea cliffs. It seemed Astoria had weathered one more storm, but the night was not yet past. Byorn ever wondered where Corik was and how he was to pursue him. He busied himself with the various tasks the Lady se
t him until one day he felt in his innermost being that the day had finally come when he must fulfill the Master’s grim words. He bowed before the Lady and bade her farewell. She smiled sadly and bid him a safe and successful journey. For the sake of the world he knew he must succeed but his own heart ached to be the hand that dealt the fatal blow. Corik’s former mount echoed his new rider’s thoughts but they both knew it must be done. As they rode south, both felt a growing sense of dread and an imminent feeling of doom though no one else with whom Byorn spoke seemed to feel anything of the sort. Finally they came to the capital and both knew they had found their quarry. In shape and feature it was a man, but in feeling it seemed evil incarnate. They followed at a distance and watched as Corik made his way through the crowded streets and towards the towering castle at the heart of the city.
He demanded entrance at the gates but the guards would not let him pass. He growled something under his breath and for a moment they stood rigid as tree trunks and then fell over either dead or fast asleep. Corik then made his way easily into the courtyard where more soldiers confronted him and suffered a similar fate. Soon word spread and all in his path either fled in panic or fell prone after confronting the horror. Byorn dismounted and bid farewell to the unicorn who could not follow circumspectly into the heart of the castle. The creature made to protest but Byorn called him to task and bade him goodbye. He easily followed the horror that had been his apprentice into the heart of the castle. Finally, Corik made his way into the court where the Emperor and his attendants had been enjoying the afternoon. The attendants fled in terror before the coming of such a malicious thing but the Emperor would not be cowed. “Who are you?” demanded the Emperor, “be gone ere I fetch my guards.”
Corik smiled and laughed horribly in answer. The Emperor drew his sword and made a strangled gurgling sound as Corik easily ended the argument forever. He still could not speak truth but in his present form it mattered little what he said for his powers could easily overcome all argument. He would take the Empire by the reins and make it into something truly worthy of his dark master. He tossed aside the crumpled form of the late Emperor and turned to find himself confronted by one brave and utterly foolish man. He started to see who it was. Byorn? He was dead! He saw him die! But then a cruel smile played across his lips, he would have revenge upon Byorn as well!
Byorn saw the confusion and then the cruel determination cross the face of his former apprentice and also realized the truth that this thing, whatever it was, was no longer the boy he had known. He said, “you will not succeed Corik, whatever strange powers you have gained from your alliance with evil. Do not do this.” Corik refrained from speaking for his tongue was ever a betrayer and would only embarrass him. He smiled grimly and cast one dark spell after another upon his foe but all to no avail. He growled under his breath and drew his sword. Byorn could easily best him in a fight, but he had no intention of giving him that chance. Corik used his own blade to literally disarm his foe. Byorn screamed and clutched the stump of his severed limb but did not back down. He drew his dagger as Corik came closer and as he approached he seemed to grow until he was thrice the size of a normal man. His limbs elongated, as did his face, and hair sprang from every surface.
Byorn stared in astonishment at the wolf-like monstrosity that towered over him and whose cruel teeth would be upon him in a single leap. He saw his own death written in those cruel eyes but knew what must be done. He held the dagger before him in his remaining hand as the creature lunged. He felt the jaws close around his vulnerable throat and with a loud snap it broke his neck. Corik threw aside the limp form of his victim and howled in delight as he licked the blood from his lips. But his howl of victory ended with coughing spasms and a bloody froth about his mouth. Only then did he realize that Byorn’s dagger was driven deep into his chest. He shrank again to his normal size, gave one last piteous noise that might have been a sob, and collapsed before dissolving into an oily ooze upon the flagstones.
The Emperor’s minions finally gained courage enough to look at the carnage in the little courtyard, but there was little time for pity or remorse as they saw their Emperor dead and the horror gone. Now was the time to grab for power. The Empire soon collapsed in a twenty sided civil war and it was nearly twenty years before the chaos abated and many nations emerged from the rubble.