The Axe of Sundering

by M. L. Forman

  “What more do you know about darloch est messer ?” Alex asked.

  Aliia shook her head. “Only what I have said. Why is this so important to you?”

  “I’ve seen those words before,” Alex said slowly. “The time of danger may not be so far away. Darloch est messer is a piece of a puzzle I do not understand, but I know that I need to figure it out.”

  “Why do you say the time of danger may not be far?” Aliia pressed.

  “Because the evil of Conmar is only a part of the evil that I’m hunting,” Alex answered. “There is a group called the Brotherhood, and they are seeking to gain control over all the known lands.”

  “We have seen many evils come and go,” Aliia said. “Why should this evil be different than those before it?”

  “Because the Brotherhood has been working their evil for a very long time. Because they are careful, hiding themselves, and taking their time. Most wizards do not even believe they exist. They do not believe that such a group could go unknown for so long.”

  “Pride—their pride blinds them to the truth.”

  “In part. The Brotherhood is powerful as well as patient. They have been at work for hundreds—maybe even thousands—of years, and when one of their plans fails, they simply move on to the next.”

  “I can try to find out more about the legend of darloch est messer ,” Aliia said. “It will not be easy, as only the elders of my people know the whole story and they are reluctant to speak of such things.”

  “Please try,” Alex said.

  “I will do what I can,” Aliia promised. “May I ask something of you?”

  “Ask what you will,” Alex said.

  “I will ask that you not speak of what I have said to anyone. Not Vankin, not another wizard, not even another elf. The shame and the story of the sea elves should not be shared.”

  “As you wish,” Alex answered, touching his staff to his forehead, the sign of a wizard’s vow.

  “Then we should go,” Aliia said, getting to her feet.

  “Go?”

  “There are many troubles in this land, and the kingdoms to the north have called on Darthon for aid. He will need the advice of wizards. It is time for plans to be made.”

  “Is Darthon recovered?” Alex asked.

  “Darthon has rested, and though he is still weak he will want to speak to you and Vankin,” Aliia said.

  Alex stood up and stretched the soreness out of his body.

  Aliia pulled the hood over her head, but she did not move from the bench. “Go to the east entrance. The guard will guide you back into the palace.”

  “And you?”

  “I will make my own way,” Aliia answered. “I must speak with my people. I will share with them what you have told me and shown me. We may meet again later, when Darthon calls his council.”

  Alex opened the door to a large sitting room and found Whalen next to the fire in deep thought. The old wizard looked up when Alex entered, then he jumped to his feet and moved toward Alex.

  “I’m glad you’re here at last,” Whalen said in a lowered voice. “Tell me what happened between you and Darthon. You mentioned a dragon?”

  Alex nodded. “Jabez has indeed enslaved a dragon, and he forced the dragon to entrap Darthon’s mind and soul. I was able to free Darthon and send him back to his body.”

  “And the dragon?” Whalen asked.

  “I wasn’t able to free the dragon, at least not yet,” Alex said, frowning. “But I have vowed to release him from Jabez’s evil.” He set his jaw and looked at Whalen. “It is a vow I intend to keep.”

  Whalen put his hand on Alex’s shoulder and squeezed. “And I will help you keep that vow in whatever way you need me to.”

  “Thank you, my friend,” Alex said. “Now, has there been any trouble since last night?”

  “No. Our hosts have been kind enough, and they have provided everything we might hope for.” Whalen looked at the door and then back to Alex. “We’ve been invited to join Darthon for the midday meal, but you and I must speak before then. These men of Westland are not a talkative lot, and I’ve discovered almost nothing that might help us defeat Jabez. Then there’s the question of the elves. I’m sure you’ve realized that the hooded figures we’ve seen here are elves.”

  “Yes, they are sea elves,” Alex said.

  “Sea elves,” Whalen repeated in wonder. “That explains why the elves in Darthon’s room have said nothing to me.”

  “They can’t tell you’re a wizard,” Alex explained. “I’ve hidden you too well, my friend, and the elves can’t see your magic. I think that scares them.”

  “Yes, it would,” Whalen said. He paused, then frowned. “How do you know all this, Alex?”

  “One of the sea elves, a maiden, came and talked with me this morning,” Alex said. “Though I’m not sure the rest of her people will be happy that she did.”

  “Probably not,” Whalen agreed. “What did you tell her—this elf maid, who may have defied her elders to speak with you?”

  “I let her see my wizard powers,” Alex replied. “I explained why we are hidden, and planted a few seeds of trust. She’s going to talk with her people, and let them know they can trust us. I hope that the rest of these sea elves will be friendlier to us.”

  “Dangerous,” Whalen said. “While I don’t believe any elf would work for Jabez or the Brotherhood, what you have done could be dangerous to our mission here.”

  “Perhaps, but danger is part of this game we play,” Alex agreed. “Since I saved Darthon from the dragon’s trap, he should be willing to grant us passage through his land. But I have the feeling that we might need the help of the sea elves to finish things here in Jarro. It would be very helpful if they trusted us.”

  “Yes, I imagine you are right,” Whalen said.

  “Now, I don’t suppose you know where can I take a bath?” Alex asked. He gestured to his clothes, which were the same ones he’d been wearing while they had been at sea. They were dry, but stained with salt and they smelled of old fish and seaweed.

  Whalen gave a slight laugh and showed Alex around the rooms that had been prepared for them. Apart from the large sitting room, there were two bedrooms, each with a smaller sitting room attached to it, and a fair-sized bathroom with running hot and cold water. Alex was pleased to see that the bathroom also contained a massive brass tub.

  Alex spent much longer in the bath than he really needed to. The size of the tub allowed him to stretch out and relax, and the hot water and steam helped ease the tension and soreness in his body. He couldn’t remember the last time he had felt so clean. The only thing missing was food. As he left the bathroom, his stomach growled loudly, reminding him that even wizards needed to eat. He and Whalen hadn’t eaten much while fighting the storm at sea, and he’d had nothing at all since arriving the day before. He quickly dressed, and then laid his sword and his magic bag on the bed, as was customary for guests in most places, and went to find Whalen.

  As he entered the main sitting room, a knock came at the door. A guard had come to escort them to Lord Darthon. Alex noted that the guard was courteous when asking them to follow him, but, like the other guards he’d met, this man did not try to talk with them at all. For some reason the silence and standoffishness of the guards troubled Alex. He knew that they were unsure of Whalen’s and his motives, and, as wizards were not common, not sure how to talk to them, but it seemed odd that they didn’t even try.

  “Leave your staff,” Whalen whispered. “It will be safe enough, and we don’t want to frighten these people.”

  Alex leaned his staff next to the fireplace, and then he and Whalen followed their guide through the palace. Alex looked closely at everything he could see as they walked. He noted the rich decorations in the rooms they went by, the thick rugs, colorful tapestries, and comfortable furniture. Most of all he noticed how much gold was used as decoration. There were trinkets of different kinds on the tables, golden lamps hanging from the walls and ceiling, and gold-cr
usted armor and weapons all over the place. If nothing else, Darthon’s kingdom was a wealthy one.

  “My lords,” the guard finally said, opening a door and bowing.

  The room they entered was not a large hall or room, it was more like a family dining room, with a round table in the middle and ten or twelve chairs along the table’s rim. The far wall of the room was made up of windows that were open, letting in both air and sunlight. Darthon was seated at the table, Timold beside him. Places were set for both Alex and Whalen, but no one else, which surprised Alex. He had assumed there would be more people who had questions about how and why he and Whalen had come here.

  “Ah, my friends,” Darthon said, standing up and leaning on the table for support. “I hope that I may call you friends. You have done me a great service.”

  “Lord Darthon,” Alex said, bowing slightly. He was pleased to see that the color had returned to Darthon’s face.

  “We are at your service,” Whalen said, also bowing.

  “Please, sit,” Darthon said, waving his hand at the table. “Timold, ring for the servers. We will eat and talk, if that’s agreeable to you.”

  “We did not expect to dine so privately,” Whalen said, taking his seat. “I’m sure that many of your lords will have questions for us.”

  “Oh, I’m sure they do,” Darthon said with a chuckle. “But their questions will have to wait. I am still king, and my questions come first. I may not keep many secrets from my lords, but as most of my questions are of a private nature, I thought this would be best.”

  “A private nature?” Whalen asked.

  “Ah, here is the food,” Darthon said. “Not the common fare of a midday meal, but not a great feast either. I hope you see something you like.”

  The servers entered, and what they brought both looked and smelled wonderful. There was bread and cheese, roasted meat that Alex thought was venison, fish, some type of roasted bird, and several platters of vegetables. Alex’s stomach growled again, and he was glad the servers were making enough noise to cover it. The table was quickly laid and the servers departed before Darthon spoke again.

  “As I mentioned, my questions for you are of a private nature,” Darthon said. “My sickness, for lack of a better word, is a private matter to me. What were you told about it?”

  “Only that you had been sick for several weeks, and had been lying senseless in bed for ten days,” Whalen replied.

  “Yes, weeks of sickness that was not sickness,” said Darthon. “I was plagued by dreams, nightmares. I could get no rest at all. Then, one night, I became trapped in the nightmare. I was lost, unable to wake or find my way home.”

  “It was an evil spell,” Alex said, “sent from Conmar to keep you and your people in check, and then to destroy you.”

  “Keep us in check?” Timold asked.

  “Darthon was unable to speak, to command. Your people had no leader,” Alex said.

  “Yes, I see,” Timold said. “We could take care of our own kingdom, but . . .”

  “But there were calls from our friends and allies to the north, seeking our aid,” Darthon said. “Without my word, my people were unable to send assistance.”

  “That was what the lord of Conmar wanted,” Whalen said. “To delay you, to keep you from sending aid to those in need.”

  “But then you came into my dream,” Darthon said, looking at Alex. “You told me that my people needed me. You reminded me of Valora.”

  “Yes,” Alex said. “Remembering your people and your home was all you really needed to find your way back.”

  “It was a terrible place,” Darthon said, some of the color draining from his face. “A place so empty and desolate.”

  “Do not think of that now,” Alex said. “Such dreams are best left in the shadows and forgotten, if possible.”

  “Yes, of course,” Darthon said. “I will try to forget the dream, but I will not forget the debt I owe you, Master Taylor, for coming to my aid.”

  “I am glad that I could help,” Alex said.

  “Now for another matter, which is also very close to me,” Darthon said. “I am told that you claim my nephew Joshua as a friend. That you met him during your travels in Eastland and you were companions until you reached Midland.”

  “Yes, that is true,” Alex said. “I am troubled to hear that Joshua is missing. Do you suspect he could be a hostage of the lord of Conmar?”

  “The lord of Conmar would not be so bold as to openly say he is holding Joshua hostage,” Timold said.

  “No, not so bold as that—not yet, at any rate,” Darthon agreed. “Still, he hints that Joshua may be among the hostages. He says that he will check, and if Joshua is there he will review his case and try to get him released.”

  “Case? Released? I don’t understand,” Alex said. “Has some law been broken?”

  “No law that we are bound to obey,” Timold said angrily.

  “A ploy,” Whalen said. “Jabez no doubt pretends to have some legal claim on his prisoners so he can hold them without actually calling them what they are—hostages.”

  “And he can also deny holding anyone as he never makes a real claim stating what crime they have committed,” Darthon said. “If he made a claim he would also have to name a punishment or a price to set the person free. He has been doing this for some time, and I have to wonder how many people of Westland he holds in his dungeons.”

  “Something will have to be done about that,” Alex said.

  “In time,” Whalen said.

  “Yes, in time,” Darthon agreed. “But first, will you tell me the story of how you met Joshua and about your travels together? I have not seen my nephew in almost two years, and to be honest, he is more a son than a nephew to me.”

  “Of course,” Alex said.

  So Alex told the story of how he and Joshua had met, and how they’d escaped the men sent by the lord of Conmar to capture Joshua. He told the story up to the point when they’d met Whalen in the city of Shinmar. Whalen then told of their voyage across the sea and the encounter with the sea serpent, being sure to give Joshua credit for his courage in fighting the monster.

  “Joshua was unaware that we are wizards,” Whalen explained. “We have been in hiding since coming to this land. When we parted, he was going to make his way home by the fastest route possible. If we had known . . .”

  “You might have been able to protect him,” Darthon finished. “Though I see that you did keep him safe for a time, and I am grateful for that. I also see that I have been a poor host, keeping you talking and leaving you no time to eat.”

  “We’ve managed to eat a fair amount,” Whalen replied with a smile, looking at Alex, who had his mouth full.

  “You have given me some comfort, and that is a gift in such troubled times,” Darthon said. “Now, I should rest. The healers don’t like that I’m up and about so much already.”

  “You need to move around to get your strength back,” Alex said.

  “So I tell them, but they have their own ways,” Darthon said. “You’ve seen some of them? Our friends, the ones who tried to heal me before you came?”

  “The sea elves,” Alex said. “Yes, we’ve seen them.”

  “We do not name them so openly,” Darthon said. “We normally just say ‘our friends.’ They don’t like to be talked about—or have outsiders know about them.”

  “And we are outsiders,” Whalen said.

  “Yes,” Darthon said. “I will tell you plainly that they have expressed some doubt about you two.”

  “Their doubts may be less now than they were before,” Alex said. “But if their doubts remain, we will find some way to answer them.”

  “Good. Very good,” Darthon said. “I may not know much about wizards or magic, but I do know about men. I can see in your faces and hear in your words that you are good men. I don’t know what troubles our friends, but I, at least, am willing to trust you.”

  Darthon stood to leave, and Timold was quick to help him. Alex and Whale
n stood and bowed slightly as a sign of respect.

  “Tomorrow . . .” Timold said softly.

  “What? Oh, yes,” Darthon said. “Tomorrow I will call a council of my lords. I would be pleased if both of you would attend as well. There are many things to be discussed, and plans to be made.”

  “As you wish,” Whalen answered.

  Darthon left with Timold, and a guard escorted Alex and Whalen back to their room.

  Alex’s mind was full of thoughts. Darthon trusted them, but the sea elves had doubts. Alex thought that some of the sea elves would trust them once Aliia had a chance to explain what he’d told her, but he couldn’t be sure. The sea elves had been hidden for many years, taking little or no part in the greater matters of the lands they lived in. They would not trust quickly, and he didn’t think they would be willing to come out of hiding.

  “Not what I expected,” Whalen said when he and Alex were back in their rooms. “I suppose we’ll have to wait until tomorrow to see where we stand.”

  “I don’t know what to expect anymore,” Alex replied. “I think Darthon will let us pass freely through his lands, but our quest has become something more. It’s no longer just about you and I reaching Conmar and facing Jabez. Most of Westland is at war, and we have to help them. It wasn’t part of our plan, but we can’t leave them to fight alone.”

  “It wasn’t part of my plan, you mean,” Whalen said. “You’ve learned a great deal, my friend, and you are right. We can’t leave them to fight alone, not now, and not against the Brotherhood.”

  Whalen fell silent as he took a seat beside the fire. Alex stood for a moment and then picked up his staff. He wanted to say something, but he didn’t know what to say or how to say it.

  “Tomorrow,” Whalen finally said. “We will make new plans tomorrow.”

  As tired as he was, Alex had trouble sleeping that night. His mind kept going over the plan that Whalen had made for them when they first came to Jarro. It was a simple plan, easy to follow—and it wasn’t going to work. The plan had been too sketchy, and things had changed more than Alex had expected. Somewhere in his half sleep, Alex heard his own voice speaking to him.