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Jefon walked in silence slowly back toward the gate behind his brother, Seril, and Ramon. There really wasn’t anything left to say, and given their precarious position, it was better to say nothing at all. Hopefully they would get Valihorn back soon, and then he could pray to Martel tonight with a clear conscience. There was still the difficulty of getting past this fortress and into the Underworld, but that would be a problem for tomorrow. For today, he would just be glad to get out of this fortress with Valihorn by his side.
They reached the gate and a few more moments passed in silence until Jefon heard yelling across the courtyard from the dungeon building. He watched as the door to the building flew open and Valihorn came bolting out and shut the door behind him. A second later the door exploded outward in a huge fireball. The two men-at-arms sent to fetch Valihorn came hurling out of the opening and landed burning in the courtyard. Through the opening and the smoke came the wizard Gram. He walked quickly and angrily over to Valihorn and picked him up by the back of the neck. Valihorn resisted, but Gram seemed to have a freakish strength that did not match his body size. Gram dragged Valihorn over to the steel gate where everyone was gathered, whispered a spell, and let go of Valihorn. Valihorn collapsed onto the ground in a deep sleep.
Gram looked straight at Ramon and shouted, “What is going on here!? I found these two guards trying to take this wizard out of his cell. They told me you were letting him go in order to collect some great reward. Explain yourself!”
Ramon stammered around for a moment, no doubt trying to think of an appropriate lie, but in the end it was apparent he could not think of one that was satisfactory. “This group came to our gate and offered a huge sum of money for the release of this single wizard. We have so many magic-users now, I thought the gold would be more valuable to us than this puny half-elf.”
“We will talk about this later, I promise you.” He turned to Evisar and said, “But for now I am afraid this wizard is not for sale.”
Jefon looked to his brother for guidance. They had come so close, but now it looked as if they would fail. Jefon observed that while Gram argued with Ramon, Evisar inched his way closer to their weapons still resting against the fortress wall. Jefon and Tristan took note of Evisar’s direction and also moved to within a few steps of their weapons.
Evisar spoke up in desperation. “My lord, please. You won’t miss one magic-user. Just let us conclude our business. You will be all the richer and we will be on our way.”
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Gram focused on Evisar and stared at him in silence. He recognized this elf’s voice, but how could that be? The memory came to him like an explosion in his mind. This was the elf who had come to Austen’s tower while he and Nero freed Gaston from the Plane of Chaos. These were the elves who held the gem containing the High Sorcerer of Kentar, but where was the one who stole the gem from the Talon Guild? Where was the rogue known as Xander? With this new revelation, it took Gram several heartbeats to remember what he had felt while kissing Arun. Xander must be hidden somewhere nearby.
“Guards, seal the gate!”
Gram uttered two arcane words and Xander became instantly visible, standing twenty feet behind the companions.
So, the elves had come looking for the entrance to the Underworld after all. “Kill the three in front of me, but keep the wizard and the invisible half-elf alive.”
Chapter 50: Sacrifice for a Companion
Jefon watched with horror as the negotiations fell apart. They had gambled and lost. Gram seemed to recognize them and with that recognition came a sentence of death. The companions dashed the last few steps to the fortress wall and picked up their weapons. Evisar and Tristan drew their swords, but Jefon was the first to react as he nocked two arrows on his bow and let them fly. One arrow took the wizard Gram in the chest while the other caught a man-at-arms in the neck. Gram was thrown to the ground by the force of the arrow, and the man-at-arms fell over dead where he stood. The Krone general, Seril, drew his sword and ordered the thirty men-at-arms surrounding him to do the same. Sir Thrace came up alongside Seril while Ramon moved to help Gram. Jefon looked around the fortress at the stone walls and saw men pulling out their bows and taking aim.
Over the confusion, Evisar’s voice rose commandingly above the fray. “Move to the gate; it’s our only chance.”
Jefon turned around and ran for the gate, in part because of his brother’s order, and in part because a bowman was useless in a sword fight. He wanted to put some distance between himself and Seril’s men. Jefon felt a sharp pain in his back as he ran. An arrow pierced his chain shirt between the shoulder blades and threw him face first to the ground. Jefon had never been injured in combat before; the pain was blinding. He managed to reclaim his bow and steady himself on one knee. He saw Xander slip into the shadows and start climbing the stairs to reach the gate controls. Seril and Sir Thrace were trading blows with Evisar and Tristan, while the remaining men-at-arms moved in behind them. Seril and Evisar had paired off while Sir Thrace attacked Tristan. Evisar and the Krone General seemed evenly matched, but Tristan had the advantage over Sir Thrace.
Jefon felt a surge of power well up inside of him as the physical pain focused his mind and made him forget all of his inhibitions. His reflexes took over; he nocked and released arrow after arrow with supernatural speed. He shot twenty of the men-at-arms squarely in the chest so quickly that the first man had hardly fallen to the ground when Jefon let go of the last arrow. As the men-at-arms collapsed in the courtyard, one after the other, time seemed to slow down. Ramon and Gram got up off the ground. Jefon looked to the left and saw fresh swordsmen pouring out of the barracks to replace those who had just fallen. Looking ahead, Jefon saw four Krone warriors storm out of the dungeon building. The air was thick with arrows whizzing by as the archers on the stone walls began showering the companions with razor-sharp steel. Time was clearly against them as each passing moment brought more troops into the courtyard and more arrows from above. They had to get out of here!
Jefon heard a thud behind him and turned to see that Xander had thrown one of the guards off the gate. There were just two more guards in his way and then he could open the steel door. Jefon turned toward his brother and watched as Evisar took an arrow in the shoulder from a guard in one of the towers. Tristan simultaneously cut off Sir Thrace’s sword arm. Evisar was stunned by the arrow in his shoulder and Seril took full advantage of the hesitation by making a deep cut along his shield arm. Evisar backed away from Seril and tried to regain his focus.
The arrow Jefon had shot in Gram’s chest would have killed the wizard quickly had Ramon not gone to his aid, but now Gram rose from the ground without any evidence of injury. Gram looked first at Jefon with revenge in his eyes, but quickly refocused on Tristan as he took off Sir Thrace’s head and moved to strike Ramon. Gram pointed his finger at Tristan and a bolt of lightning took him full in the chest at close range. Tristan flew backward twenty feet and fell to the ground unconscious or dead. Jefon continued shooting arrow after arrow into the guards coming out of the barracks and at the archers on the walls, but it was no use. The soldiers were coming faster than he could draw and loose.
Evisar regained his footing against Seril and redoubled his efforts, forcing Seril to yield ground to the fury of his swings. Evisar was about to cut down the Krone General when Seril subtly nodded his head and a globe of darkness encased him. The area of darkness was a perfect sphere thirty feet in diameter, centered on Seril. Somehow, as before, Jefon was able to see inside the globe of darkness with a vision that showed shades of gray. Seril and Evisar were both nearly white, while their swords and equipment were a neutral gray. Evisar finished his last three cuts, knowing where Seril had been only a moment before and hit nothing but air. It was clear Evisar was blind in the darkness, just as Jefon had been before. He watched Seril sidestep his brother and take a full swing along Evisar’s back. The cut was long and deep, and
Evisar was unable to keep his feet. He was thrown to the ground and landed with a loud thud. Seril slowed down and took a moment to saver the feeling of victory before he moved in for the death blow.
Evisar was about to die if Jefon didn’t act. This is what he had seen in his vision a few days before. The power of Martel surged through Jefon as he ran forward to save his brother. On the run he pulled two arrows from his quiver and nocked his bow. His pace never slowed as he took aim at Seril and fired. Jefon dropped his bow in a dead sprint as the arrows hit Seril in the side. The Krone staggered several strides away and collapsed to the ground. Evisar was beginning to stir as Jefon reached down and yanked his brother to his feet. He was about to throw Evisar over his shoulder and make for the gate when another arrow came crushing into his right side. Jefon was thrown to the ground with one arrow in his back and one in his side.
Jefon watched in uncaring detachment through the tunnel vision that closed in around him as Xander moved on the top of the wall and impaled the final guard through the back. Xander unceremoniously threw the guard to the ground below and moved to unlock the gate. The controls were cumbersome and heavy, but eventually he forced the lever out of its locked position and the gates began to swing open.
Jefon watched as Gram walked into his field of view and pointed his finger at Xander. Gram said a word of arcane magic and a poisonous-looking green arrow formed on the tip of his finger. Gram flicked his finger, sending the arrow flying through the air. Xander moved out of the way, but the arrow followed his movements and struck him in the chest. Xander’s body absorbed the arrow and almost immediately green, diseased boils formed on his skin. The boils quickly grew larger and larger until they began to burst. Xander screamed out in agony as he lost control of his body and slumped against the stone wall. Then a spasm of pain hit him so hard that he fell off the wall onto the hard ground fifteen feet below.
Jefon lay on the ground unable to find the strength to get up. He watched Evisar, wounded as he was, stand up and square off against Ramon and Gram. Ramon pulled a mace from his belt and moved between his commander and the half-dead elf.
Gram spoke snidely to Evisar. “You are a powerful one. Are you prepared to die the same way your father did?”
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Recognition came to Evisar as he looked at Gram. He had seen the wizard who killed his father only from far across a field, and only for a moment, but the connection came as an explosion in his mind. “You’re the one who killed my father. You’re the one who started this whole thing.”
As near to death as Evisar was, he charged forward with renewed fury. Ramon raised his mace to block the swing, but Evisar’s strength and the magic of Neverlost cut right through the weapon. Evisar buried his father’s blade in Ramon’s head. Evisar pulled Neverlost from Ramon’s skull as the priest fell to the ground. He turned his body, regained his balance, and came face to face with his father’s murderer.
Gram was defenseless and his guards were too far away to help. Evisar made a savage cut intended to decapitate the wizard where he stood. Gram raised his arm in defense and Neverlost struck the steel bracers on Gram’s arm. Magic met magic as the bracers collided with the sword, sending out a ring that filled the courtyard. Gram moved with unnatural speed and strength as he grabbed Evisar’s sword arm, used Evisar’s momentum against him, and threw him fifteen feet through the air. Evisar fell in a heap and didn’t move to rise.
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Like his brother, Jefon found renewed strength knowing his father’s murderer was right in front of him. With arrows deep in his back and side, Jefon rose to one knee and raised his sword. Jefon watched in horror as Gram raised his arm and pointed his finger at Evisar’s unmoving form. “You have failed, little elf, and now you will die for that failure.”
Events were occurring exactly as Jefon had seen in his vision. For his family and his brother, Jefon rose to his feet and charged the wizard Gram. Gram was so intent on Evisar that he did not see Jefon’s charge until it was almost too late. Instinctively, Gram turned his finger toward Jefon. The lightning bolt meant to kill Evisar struck and passed through Jefon’s body. His sword fell to the ground as his life force left him. His body collapsed face first into the mud. Jefon died hearing his brother’s cry and Gram’s laughter, thinking about happier times when his father had come to the practice yard to find his two sons hard at work, training to take up the family tradition of service to the Crown.
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Gram cursed himself for having been surprised by the younger elf, but he took some satisfaction in his death. Of all the battles he had fought, this was simplicity by comparison, and yet he had nearly been killed by a wounded elf he had not seen coming. Gram shook his head as his soldiers surrounded the fallen companions. Gram moved quickly across the field to where the traitor’s body lay. He flipped Xander over and saw he was nearly dead. His leg was shattered, his arm was out of its socket, and oozing boils covered his entire body. Gram cast a spell that allowed him to see any magic items Xander carried, but the blinding brilliance of the gem was not present.
He stood tall with hatred in his eyes and asked, “Where is the gem?”
Xander writhed in pain and appeared to not hear Gram talking to him. Gram waited a handful of heartbeats for Xander to answer and then brought his foot down on Xander’s shattered leg. Xander screamed in agony and cursed in pain. Gram said, “Do I have your attention now, thief? Where is the gem?”
Xander looked up at Gram through his pain and said, “Piss off, Gram, and take the rest of the Guild with you.”
Gram raised his arm in anger and shot a magic missile into Xander’s separated shoulder. “Where did you hide the gem?”
Xander’s body reacted violently to the blow and went slack as he went into shock. Gram stood there and watched Xander die in the courtyard, unable to take satisfaction in his death, knowing the secret of the gem died with him. Gram’s anger slowly subsided as he realized there were other ways to get the truth from Xander. Death was not an escape from the Talon Guild.
Gram set his jaw and yelled out orders. “Close the gate. Take all of the intruders, even the dead ones, down to the dungeon and lock them up. Find Arun and tell her to heal their wounds.”
Gram had won the day, and he still had one additional magic-user to take with him into the Underworld. The First Heir would die soon, and with his death, Armena would fall. The Guild would have its own kingdom, and he would wield power both on the surface of Tellus and beneath it.
Chapter 51: God of the Dead
Seker, God of the Dead, looked down on Tellus and smiled. The meeting of the elven gods could not have gone better as far as he was concerned. The meeting had been called to reconcile the differences between the Krone and the surface elves and had ended in a way that virtually guaranteed war. Yet the war had not begun, and there were questions that needed answering.
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“Bring forth the book of the dead.”
The voice, barely a whisper, reverberated off the stone walls of Seker’s inner sanctum. With his god’s call, a small figure named Zoey rose up out of his place on the floor and began shuffling toward the throne that was Seker’s seat of power. Chained to his wrist was a dull, glowing disc that levitated a foot off the ground, but still took all of his strength to pull. In the center of the disc lay a small nondescript book, save a simple black rune etched on the cover, and a bone clasp that held the book closed. Zoey looked up and was terrified by the darkness all around him. There was no light, yet somehow he could still see the decaying flesh that made up the floor and the immense throne where his god sat. Even the smallest sound echoed across the dark chamber and reverberated off the stone walls.
The absolute darkness gave way only to the ever-changing scenes of exquisite death that lined the walls – plague in a city surrounding the Ring Sea that left countless dead in its path, two parents in the fami
ne-struck north begging for their child’s life as she awaited dismemberment on the sacrificial altar, an unjust lord torturing five of his subjects to death over a stolen loaf of bread, and a vampire growing the ranks of the undead by drinking the sweet innocence of a beautiful young woman. The scenes merged and changed, but there were always at least a dozen images of death that adorned the walls at all times.
As the disc came closer to the throne, it grew duller, as if the light itself cowered before the God of the Dead. Neither hurried nor delayed, Zoey brought forth the book. He shuffled over the decaying bones of a lich, a great shadow dragon, and many other foul creatures that made up the floor of Seker’s inner sanctum. Neither the horrific images nor the stifling darkness changed Zoey’s pace, but even this stoicism melted away at the sound of his god’s voice.
“Bring forth the book of the dead.” The voice sounded like a thousand shrieks of death that shredded pride, love, courage, and even memory in its ultimate finality. Zoey joined in the screams coming from all around him that emerged from the stones in the walls and the decaying corpses of the floor. The foundations of the room were made from the very souls of those that made up Seker’s kingdom.
Zoey carried the book of the dead. That was the purpose of his existence in the afterlife. Nothing more. Had he not been more once? Could he not remember a time when there had been more than the book? The images of conquered lands and broken enemies flirted with his memory. Was it yesterday, a millennium ago, a moment ago? Who could know?
Zoey staggered forward, pulling the book behind him. He still wondered why this great task had been given to him. What had he done to deserve the honor of carrying the book? His pondering faded as he approached the throne and looked up to see his god towering fifty feet above him. Seker remained unmoving on his throne until Zoey finally reached his god’s feet and unceremoniously fell on his face in silent adoration.
Do the Gods Despise Us? Page 14
