This is where the Jin’Sai will finally meet his death, Khristos thought as he watched the waves constantly assault the sandy beach. Before that can happen, he and his mystics must again find this place, but even that has been skillfully arranged.
Leaving the beach, he trod the sand back to where one of the dark cave entrances stood. From just within its depths he would be able to clearly see the Jin’Sai and his forces arrive, for there would be but one entrance available to them—the one that Gracchus and Khristos wanted them to use. Only then would he order the attack.
As he waited among his eager servants, his mind slowly drifted back to the violent era known as the Sorceresses’ War. Failee was losing her struggle for dominance over the craft, but much more blood would be spilled and far more combatants killed before she would finally be defeated. The three Mistresses of the Coven and their forces had gathered deep in Hartwick Wood, hoping to entice the Vigors forces into a trap and annihilate them. It had also been the time of Khristos’ great love for Failee and of her secret plan to commend him and the viper embryos to the peaceful-looking river…
“WHAT TROUBLES YOU, MY LOVE?” KHRISTOS ASKED.
Turning over, he looked deeply into Failee’s eyes. Sorceress’s eyes, he thought as he became lost in their luster for the thousandth time. Her hazel orbs sometimes seemed to glow, and they were but one of the mysterious qualities that drew him to her. She had coupled with him even more frantically this night, like a desperate woman who feared she was lying with her mate for the last time. For him it had been glorious, overpowering, mesmerizing. But as he waited for a response and got none, he worried.
When he had first approached her and offered his services as an accomplished Vagaries wizard, the First Mistress had reacted with aloofness. It seemed that she regarded him as little more than yet another among the many hundreds of wizards who wished to follow her cause and to see the Directorate destroyed. Later, as his wartime exploits and notoriety blossomed, she took an increasing interest in him. A mutual attraction soon developed, finally enticing them to share a bed.
But as his love for her grew, other than their frenzied physical couplings he could sense no emotional need in her for him. All that he ever saw within those wondrous eyes was her obsession to win this terrible struggle that she had started. Like her prosecution of the war, she approached her frantic lovemaking as if it too were some battle that must be won. She controlled every aspect of her terrible war with methodical savagery, and her carnal need for Khristos was no different.
The magnificent First Mistress, he thought as he searched her beautiful face. He continued trying to guess her thoughts even though he knew it was impossible. She is also the estranged wife of Wigg, Lead Wizard of the Directorate. What a strange path this war has woven for us. Only the Afterlife knows how it will all end. If I ever see Wigg again, how might such a bizarre scene play out?
Saying nothing, Failee rose from the luxurious bed and walked naked to the other side of her war tent. As she went, he watched her graceful curves glint in the candlelight. Long dark hair streaked with silver hung far down her back, swishing gently to and fro and brushing her perfect skin.
There was no other sorceress on earth like her and there would never be again, his heart told him. Whatever she asked of him he would do. Not simply because Failee was his lover, but also because he had never known so strong and infallible a leader as she. Her talents in the craft were legendary, her ruthlessness on the battlefield uncompromising.
Sitting down at her dressing table, the naked First Mistress looked into the mirror, then took up a tortoiseshell brush and began pulling it through her lustrous hair. When she went silent like this, there was no use trying to prod her, Khristos knew. Like everything else in her life, conversing was strictly on her terms.
As he waited, Khristos sat up in bed and he looked around. Despite how many times he had visited the First Mistress’s war tent, it never ceased to amaze him. Had he not known better, he might have thought himself to be in the private bedchamber of some queen’s castle rather than amid a huge military camp deep in Hartwick Wood. As usual, wherever the Mistresses of the Coven ventured, every conceivable luxury had been provided for.
The tent was very large, its four long sides and pointed ceiling sturdily supported by gleaming golden poles rather than the customary wooden posts. The dense canvas was dyed dark green to match the forest that surrounded it. Ornately carved furniture and patterned rugs adorned the area, while dozens of candles and oil lamps gave off soft, reassuring light. One table held war charts, texts, and scrolls relating to the craft. Scented oils wafted on the evening air while outside the tent, the familiar sounds of soldiers at arms, neighing horses, and other camp activity sounded into the night.
Two handmaiden mystics armed with swords and daggers stood motionless near the tent entrance, ready to execute any order given them by their First Mistress. As so many times before, tonight they silently watched as Failee and Khristos performed their grasping brand of lovemaking. At first Khristos had found their cool gazes unnerving, but because of his carnal need for Failee, he soon adjusted. For a time he had wondered whether the women were there to protect their mistress should Khristos ever threaten her. Then he had laughed aloud when he realized that Failee would need no help to kill him should she wish him dead. It was widely rumored throughout Failee’s massive war machine that she could kill with a single thought, as could Succiu, Vona, and Zabarra, the other three lesser but equally devoted Mistresses of the Coven.
As Khristos looked into Failee’s mirror, his face reflected back to him alongside hers. The image was serene, like some idyllic portrait of a contented husband and wife lovingly set upon a fireplace mantel. But this image was false, for she bore no love for him. Nor was there any contentment in her, for her war had yet to be won.
Taking a deep breath, Khristos continued to gaze at his reflection. At forty Seasons of New Life he was already an accomplished wizard with few equals. Curly black hair adorned his head, and he was handsome and strong. He had taken many lovers over the course of his life, but none had compared to Failee. As her eyes finally met his, he looked at her with concern.
“You haven’t answered me,” he said softly. “What troubles you so?”
Faille put down her hairbrush as she continued to stare into his eyes from the depths of the mirror. Her answer would surprise him.
“Do you love me?” she asked simply, her usually commanding voice perhaps granting him a bit more compassion than usual.
Sensing that something had changed in her, Khristos sat up in the great bed. “You know that I do,” he answered, “even though you cannot return my love.”
“Then why do you stay with me?” she asked.
“Perhaps it is in the hope that your feelings will one day change,” he answered honestly. “Call me a fool if you will. But the heart wants what the heart wants.”
Failee rose from her dressing table and walked back to the bed. Sitting down beside him, she looked at him in that way only she could. No one in the world had ever made him feel so brave yet so timid, so important yet so small.
“If you really love me you will listen to what I have to say,” she said quietly. “What I tell you now is for your ears alone. Even Vona, Zabarra, and Succiu have not been informed.” Leaning closer, her hazel eyes bored their way even deeper into his. “Be sure that you wish to hear this, Khristos,” she added. “If I learn that you have betrayed my trust, I will kill you without reservation.”
Khristos took a sharp breath. She had always been stern with him and he had never objected to her dominance—on or off the battlefield. Even so, until now she had never threatened his life. After some careful consideration he finally decided.
“What is it?” he asked.
As though some sudden shame had poured over her, Failee turned her face away. Now it will come, he thought.
“We are losing this war,” she said softly.
Her words struck Khristos like a thun
derbolt, the simple statement earthshaking. Had it come from anyone else he would not have believed it. Even when uttered by the First Mistress it was a difficult concept to fathom.
No one in their mighty army had the confidence of Failee. Not even the other three Coven mistresses were so sure of victory, and Khristos knew them well. Moreover, her forces had just scored a significant victory over part of the Vigors army near the plain called Heart Square, south of the capital. Soon after, her war scouts reported that the wizards had fled the battle to seek refuge in Tammerland.
Sensing that her great chance had finally come, Failee chased after them and laid siege to the capital. As her forces hammered at the outskirts of the city, Tammerland became a fortress and her people began to riot and starve. Rumors soon spread that many were demanding the wizards’ surrender. Anything, they said, was better than watching their children starve before their eyes. With the wizards cornered and losing control, it seemed that Eutracia would finally belong to the Coven.
But then something unsuspected happened. It was learned by her scouts that the wizards’ “retreat” to Tammerland had been a ruse. They and the bulk of their forces had circumvented Hartwick Wood to the west, then traveled northeast toward Tanglewood to regroup. Failee immediately understood that her army must meet the wizards’ forces soon, while they were still reeling from their defeat at Heart Square. Because the Vigors mystics were not in Tammerland, the city had no more strategic significance than did any other, and so she abandoned her siege.
Because she dared not risk an all-out assault in which her forces could be seen advancing for miles, she devised a plan to draw the Directorate’s army into the forests of Hartwick Wood. The dense forests lay not far from where the wizard army was camped, making the temptation even greater.
Khristos had never known how Failee planned to encircle and destroy the wizards’ forces once they entered the forest, but he did know that these woods were rife with magic—magic that perhaps only Failee and the other Coven members understood and could use. This was perhaps why the wily wizards had not taken the bait, or perhaps they simply did not wish to abandon a position from which they could see enemy forces advancing from leagues away. But for whatever reason, they did not come. And so Failee’s chance to trap and annihilate the Vigors worshippers, first in Tammerland and then in Hartwick Wood, never materialized. Even so, Khristos had never dreamed that those missed opportunities might somehow signal that the war was lost.
“What makes you say this?” he asked, still unable to believe. “Although the wizards refused to follow us into Hartwick Wood, we stunned them at Heart Square and inflicted many casualties on their ranks. They’re reeling, Failee, surely you see that! I say that now is the time to move our forces to Tanglewood and strike them with everything we have!”
She turned to look at him angrily. “Don’t you think I know that?” she growled. “A fool could see it! Under normal circumstances victory could still be ours. All I would need to do is to reach out and take it! But these are far from normal times, Khristos! My spies tell me that something has happened that will irrevocably alter the outcome of this war. I fear that this news will forever change the science of the craft. Unless I am wrong, victory has become impossible. But I will continue this fight nonetheless. It is what I was born to do, despite the massive advantage the wizards have obtained.”
“What advantage?” Khristos asked. “What could possibly have happened that might cause us to lose this struggle?”
To his surprise, Failee balled her hands into fists, and her body started shaking. She lowered her head, and her hair fell to cover her face. Even during her darkest moments he had never seen her so overcome. It wasn’t some new fear that consumed her, he realized. She was far too brave for that. Rather, he sensed that it was some strange combination of immense dread and frustration that had so quickly engulfed her. He tried to put his arm around her, but she roughly shoved him away. Closing her eyes, she angrily swept her long hair back with one hand.
“The wizards have found a great book,” she said softly. “And with it was a blood-red stone, bathed in vibrant red water. It is rumored that these two seemingly innocuous items will forever change our knowledge of the craft. The book and the stone will make the wizards powerful, Khristos—more powerful than we can ever become unless we also gain the knowledge and power that these artifacts are said to provide. Even so, we have no choice but to fight on. But if the book and the stone are as important as my spies say, the wizards might already possess advantages over us that we can never surmount. It is said that the book is called the Tome, and the stone is called the Paragon. They were left behind by our long-lost ancestors for us to use and learn from. But the wizards found them first, and I can see no way to take the Tome and the Paragon from them. Had we discovered the book and the stone first, our war might already be won.”
“Where were these artifacts found?” Khristos asked gently.
To his great surprise, Failee suddenly threw her head back and laughed. It was a strange, desperate cackle, lacking the slightest trace of humor. When she stopped, he noticed that she was no longer shaking and her domineering nature had returned. Rising from the bed, she began pacing the tent like a caged lioness.
“That’s the truly maddening part!” she exclaimed. “My spies tell me that the artifacts were found in a deep cave not more than three leagues from where we are now camped! Three leagues! That’s all that stood between us and total victory! Supposedly the cave entrance was covered with rocks and vegetation, making it difficult to see. I cannot be sure when the caves were found.” Just then her face took on a familiar expression of disgust. “But I do know who first discovered them and secretly removed the sacred artifacts.”
From the look on Failee’s face, Khristos immediately knew the answer. “Wigg,” he breathed.
“Yes,” Failee answered quietly. “The wizard Wigg—my traitorous husband, and the Vagaries’ greatest enemy.”
“What are your plans?” Khristos asked.
“I will continue this war as best I can,” she answered. “Despite this setback we have come too far to turn tail now. But to finish my plan I will need your help. Will you help me, Khristos?”
“Of course,” he answered. “What do you wish me to do?”
“Get dressed,” she said. “We are about to travel through the woods to a special place. Once we have arrived I will explain how you can aid the cause like no other wizard at my command.”
Failee and Khristos dressed quickly under the ever-watchful gaze of the two women guarding the tent door. When they were ready, she led him from the tent and toward a wagon to which a pair of horses were harnessed. A dark canvas covered the wagon bed.
As they walked through the massive camp, the three magenta moons shone their light down through the trees, giving the bustling place a surreal appearance. Because Failee had ordered that no fires be lit this night, the camp stretched darkly for leagues into the dense forest. Hundreds of wizards, sorceresses, and Blood Stalkers walked to and fro, going about their business. Thousands of mindless but otherwise healthy male citizens who had been captured and magically turned to Failee’s purpose as battle fodder could be seen everywhere, and screaming shot into the night as Failee’s wizards transformed captured Vigors mystics into yet more drooling Blood Stalkers. The morale of her many mystics remained high, and they were clearly eager for another chance to meet the Vigors wizards and end this war.
Khristos smiled wryly as he wondered how the mood of Failee’s many followers might change if they heard the strange news about the two recently found artifacts. Knowing better than to speak of it, he climbed aboard the wagon and sat beside Failee.
Khristos watched as Succiu, Second Mistress of the Coven, approached. Dressed all in black leather, she gave Failee and Khristos a curious look. The bullwhip hanging at her left hip and her black knee boots glinted in the light of the three red moons, as did her silken straight black hair. As Succiu neared the wagon, her exotic almond-s
haped eyes searched Failee’s face. Of the other three sorceresses, Succiu was the most rebellious, never missing a chance to question the First Mistress’s authority. Reaching out, she brazenly grasped the horse’s bridle and looked into Failee’s eyes.
“Where are you two going at this hour of the night?” she asked. One corner of her lovely mouth came up. “Surely it’s far too late for a picnic,” she added. Knowing better than to interfere, Khristos remained silent.
Failee gave the Second Mistress a hard look. Khristos knew that Failee respected Succiu’s talents in the craft, for among all four sorceresses they were second only to her own. But Succiu could be difficult and her personal predilections bizarre. He knew that this was the time for Failee to control her protégée rather than obey her request and honestly answer Succiu’s pointed question.
“You have no need to know,” Failee answered. “But perhaps I will tell you after we have returned. Now unhand the horse.”
Succiu smiled. “As you wish, First Mistress,” she answered. “But when you return, I and my fellow sisters will want answers.”
Reaching down, Succiu uncoiled the whip lying at her hip and expertly snapped it out across the dewy grass. Then she raised it high and brought it down sideways, directly across the haunches of both horses.
As Failee’s anger built, she quickly employed the craft to control the rearing horses and settle them down. Deciding to deal with the Second Mistress’s insult later, she charged the wagon from the clearing.
Failee and Khristos rode the rumbling wagon for two hours without speaking. After Succiu’s brazen actions, he knew better than to try to strike up a conversation. Besides, he had been told that everything he needed to know would be explained to him when they reached their destination. So he sat quietly beside Failee, trying to imagine what part he might play in her great scheme. Finally they approached a babbling brook and Failee pulled the horses to a stop. She climbed down from the wagon, and Khristos followed suit.
Rise of the Blood Royal Page 28
