Eligium- The Complete Series

by Jake Allen Coleman

  The second hour was more excruciating. The breeze died away, allowing the air to warm somewhat. He yawned, now fighting drowsiness and boredom. Sneaking a peak, he saw that Martino’s eyes were half closed, and he swayed on his feet., Sebastian knelt to grab a small pebble and tossed it at his friend. The rock struck true and Martino started back to wakefulness. Shaking his head to clear it, he shot Sebastian a look of thanks.

  It would have been a black mark on the entire squad had Martino been discovered sleeping on watch, and might even have earned the boy a flogging and dismissal from the Squires. Sebastian resumed scanning the countryside, passing his eyes back over the distant road. It was no longer empty. A train of horses and mules, along with several carts passed into view. The alarm bell began singing out before Sebastian could open his mouth to shout a warning. Someone else had already spotted them.

  A pair of riders sallied to intercept the newcomers, although they did not look much of a threat to Sebastian. These days no one approached the Dazhberg without being challenged. Sebastian watched as they approached the small group and, a few moments later, moved into an escort formation. Friends then. Foes would have stimulated a different response.

  As they neared the gates, Sebastian took stock of the new arrivals. A dozen men and women, with a handful of children who looked to be servants rather than kin. Every one of them was road-worn. Tunics and boots frayed, with a morose and defeated expression on their faces. Sebastian was too distant to hear the exchange.

  It was not long though before word came, passing along the guard. Uriasz had arrived. Of the once-mighty order of Wizards, this was all that survived the devastation wrought by Radomil and Cenric at the Cale. All of these had been absent from when Radomil attacked with his tame dragon. More would trickle in over the coming days. Watching them ride in, Sebastian searched for Gerhard’s familiar face. There had been no word of the wizard’s fate since the Grey Gull sank and Sebastian wondered if he rested in a watery grave with the rest of the Gull’s crew.

  Around noon, the scullery brought a stew and hot spiced ale to warm up the guard for their luncheon. Sebastian polished his away and prepared to settle in for a long afternoon. He actually looked forward to their lecture that night, and to getting back to real training tomorrow.

  “Are you Squire Sebastian?” the squeaky voice came from nowhere and he turned around to find a scraggly-looking page staring at him. “Squire Sebastian?” the boy repeated.

  “Aye. Who’s asking?”

  “Squire, you are wanted in the Aodhan Bret to give a report to the council. I can escort you there if you like.”

  “I know the way. What about my duty here?”

  “I’ve let the Captain of the Guard know you’ve been summoned.”

  Sebastian leaned over the parapet to find the Guard Captain looking up at him. The Captain raised his hand in dismissal and then returned Sebastian’s salute. Wondering what the council wanted of him, he made his way off the wall.

  #

  Sebastian had not been back to the Aodhan Bret since returning with the Dragonstone and was struck with the richness of light within the chamber. Three of the four alcoves along the perimeter glowed with the light of an Eligium. To the east the Eligius Siothrun glowed a bright yellow while the Eligius Ealadha resided to the west with its cold blue light. To the north, the Eligius Muliach sat resplendent in a fiery red. An empty alcove waited in darkness to the south, as did the short pillar in the heart of the chamber, surrounded by the stone table where the High Council met and the ring of pillars supporting the domed ceiling.

  Seated round the table were the familiar faces of the High Council, and two that Sebastian had not seen before. The first was a woman, her smooth face contrasted with the grey in her braid and made Sebastian doubt her age. She wore a flowing dark blue robe, tied at the waist with a simple cord. Even without finery indicating rank or position, he instinctively felt a need to show great deference. She would command any room she walked into.

  Next to her sat the other face unfamiliar to Sebastian. Even though he was seated, Sebastian could tell he was not a tall man. His dark hair had been slicked back, revealing sharp widow’s peaks. He had an oily mustache and deep set wrinkles about his eyes. His robe was similar in cut to the one the woman wore, but shone with a brilliant red color and was made of a finer cloth. Rather than a cord at his waist, a fine leather belt secured his robe. In that red cloak, he reminded Sebastian of the Krenon.

  Seeing Sebastian arrive in the chamber, High Councilor Damianus called the group to order. “Master Breandan, Mistress Valeria,” he began, addressing the two newcomers. “On behalf of the High Council, I bid you both welcome to the Dazhberg.” Damianus had aged much since the last time Sebastian had seen him. His hair, already thinning, had mostly disappeared and deep crevasses were etched into his forehead. Around his neck he wore the symbol of his office, a long chain suspending the keys to the Vaults.

  “Our thanks High Councilor,” said Valeria, her voice ringing a clear alto.

  Breandan inclined his own head in acknowledgment, but his eyes locked on Sebastian. “We are told you have news of what happened at Cale Uriasz,” his voice felt as oily as his hair and mustache when he spoke. “When our ship arrived at the Cale we found only destruction.” His voice raised, “We would know what you know!” Valeria laid a hand on his arm and caught his eye. He puffed out a breath and continued with a more measured tone, “But of course, we are grateful to Gabirel for offering sanctuary.” Sebastian was convinced the man was not grateful at all.

  Master Darden, chief wizard at the Dazhberg and envoy to Gabriel from Uriasz, beckoned Sebastian to a seat next to him at the table. “This is Sebastian Pwyll, Squire. He and his companion arrived to Cale Uriasz following the attack and can give you much…” He trailed off as was his habit, still waiting for Gerhard to complete his sentence. The two had worked in tandem for so many years they seemed to be sides of the same coin.

  Valeria fixed Sebastian with an eagle stare, “Pwyll?”

  Lord Commander Teoma interjected before the woman went further. “The boy is Gerlach Pwyll’s son, as I’m sure you surmised. Raised by distant relations, he did not even know who his father was until after the man was dead.” Sebastian did not like to think about his father and was glad that Teoma did not go further into the details of the man’s passing.

  Valeria pursed her lips, “I expect there is more to this story than you are saying, Lord Commander. Since you obviously don’t want to reveal more, I will leave it there. Now Sebastian Pwyll, tell us what you found when you arrived at Cale Uriasz.”

  For what seemed like the hundredth time, Sebastian recounted the story of how Radomil had deceived both Krystelle Mora and himself, tricking them into handing over the Chronicles. He related to them everything the Radomil had told them about the attack on Uriasz in his guise as Drealan. He had no reason to suppose the actual attack had been any different from what the sorcerer had told them. Glossing over his own battle with Cenric, he focused instead on Krystelle’s own skirmish with the four guards.

  “And where is this Cenric now?” Breandan’s oily voice caused Sebastian to shiver.

  Lord Marcello, having authority over the hospital at Dazhberg, he responded to the wizard. “Cenric is here in the fortress, recovering. The boy has been through an ordeal and we have yet to unwind the poison Sterling Lex placed in his mind. Mistress Valeria, your faculties in healing such afflictions are legendary. Perhaps you would care to examine the boy?” She inclined her head in acquiescence.

  Breandan scowled at the suggestion. “I would not interfere in your work Valeria, but I think it prudent we interrogate the boy.”

  “Perhaps,” said Valeria. “I will know more once I have examined him.”

  Breandan pressed his companion, “Very well, then. In the meantime, I am not satisfied with the tale this boy has spun. We shall want to hear from Krystelle Mora. There is also the matter of how this one, who is not in training as a wizard, could d
efeat young Cenric who held the Eligius Muliach in his hands. This should not have been possible. All of that begs the question why the Dragonstone is sitting in the Aodhan Bret and not on its way back to Hallvard where it belongs. Does Gabirel intend to break the Ban, I wonder?”

  “Of course, Uriasz is not accusing Gabirel of standing in defiance of the Ban,” said Valeria, “But I too wonder that three of the Eligium are back in the Aodhan Bret. Two more and the Ban will end whether we wish it or not. I fear, however, there are other matters we must address first. I’m speaking of the condition of the countryside and the towns around the realm. Since the Ban was enacted the lands have been in a drought. Not a physical one, but a mystical one. It was an unintended side-effect of the Ban itself.”

  Breandan could not contain himself any longer, “and one reason the Ban should be ended, but by Uriasz itself and the Arch-mage, not Gabirel.”

  “That is a debate for another time, and one that requires our other allies' participation,” continued Valeria. “Regardless the effects are plain to see if one knows what to look for. However, as we made our way to the Dazhberg, I saw something that concerned me. Above and beyond the greying of things brought on by the Ban. There is a malaise over the people and the land I’ve not seen before. In every town we passed through there was talk of murders and dying crops and bouts of insanity. Something foul and evil is gripping the land.”

  “Could this be the work of Sterling Lex?” asked Lord Marcello. “Has he already claimed the power of the Arch-mage.”

  Breandan shook his head, “You misunderstand what it means to be Arch-mage. It would be impossible for him to use the power of that stewardship in this way. In fact, were he to take up the mantle it could very well cause him to correct these wrongs.”

  “I think you over-estimate the effect the office can have on Lex’s mind,” said Valeria.

  “And I think you covet the office for yourself, Valeria.” The rest of the Council got very quiet as the two wizards glared at each other.

  Valeria broke off first. “My apologies Councilor Damianus. We are tired from our journey. That being said, there is another possibility we must consider. Only the Soulstone has such far reaching effect.”

  “And as I said during our conversations since we left Cale Uriasz, I do not believe the Krenon would use the stone in this way,” said Breandan.

  Valeria skewered him with an icy stare, “They clearly used it to control the Dragon Guard. If they dare go that far, who’s to say how much farther they would go? We must consider the possibility.”

  “Suppose what you say is true,” Damianus interjected. “What can we do to counter the stone’s influence?”

  “And that’s the rub, isn’t it?” said Breandan. “There is no answer to that. Not without the Chronicles and a new Arch-Mage.”

  “We need fresh eyes,” said Valeria. “Darden, would you join me in a search of the Vaults? It may be that an answer can be found in the histories and writings stored there.”

  Nodding, Darden rose, “Perhaps we should adjourn and come back to this discussion after Valeria and I have done as she suggests?”

  “Of course, Master Darden,” said Damianus. “This council is adjourned.”

  #

  As soon as he was dismissed, Sebastian scurried out of the Aodhan Bret. While he was in no particular hurry to return to his station on the outer wall, he had even less inclination to stay in the uncomfortable silence the Wizard’s disagreement had generated. Leaving the chamber, he paused on the verge of the corridor leading to the hospital wing where Cenric lived during his rehabilitation.

  “Hold a moment, young Squire,” Sebastian froze at the sound of that oily voice. Turning to face Master Breandan, he strained to settle the sick feeling rising in his belly. “I was wondering if you might show me the way to my residence? These halls confuse me, and I hoped we could chat you and I.”

  Escorting him through the Dazhberg for a private conversation was the last thing Sebastian wanted, yet with no pages in sight he could see no way to avoid the task. “Of course, Master. This way.”

  Sebastian tried to set a brisk pace through the halls, but the wizard laid a hand on his arm, slowing him to a leisurely stroll. “You have become quite famous and I am glad to speak with you privately, away from all the formality of the Council.” Sebastian could think of nothing to say, but his unease must have been plain to the wizard. “Now, pay no mind to that unpleasantness with Mistress Valeria just now. You should be aware, though, that the woman is ambitious. Yes, quite ambitious indeed.” His voice took on a sorrowful note, “I fear she has coveted the position of Arch-mage for many years now. Always she would petition for Magister Philon to either return to Cale Uriasz or give up the position. I don’t expect she mourned one whit when she learned he died. What do you think of that?”

  “It wouldn’t be fit for me to comment, my Lord.”

  “Tsk, tsk. No ‘my Lord’s’ for me. Call me Breandan, at least when we are in private. Now, I’m sure you have heard all manner of innuendo and story about Sterling Lex, have you not?”

  “Yes, my…Breandan. Everyone knows the stories. How he rebelled and betrayed the King and Uriasz with his group of apprentices, inciting the Dragon Wars and causing all that destruction.”

  “That is, of course, what we taught. What if I told you there was another side to that story?”

  “Another side?”

  “Every tale has two versions. You’ve merely listened to the one told by the victors. Did you know that before his so-called rebellion, Sterling Lex was to be raised as Arch-mage? Did you know jealousy of his power led the College of Wizards to denounce him and THAT led to his disillusionment with the status quo? Why from a certain point of view, Sterling Lex is the rightful Arch-mage!”

  Sebastian pulled away. “You cannot mean you support him! After all the things he has done!”

  Breandan continued down the corridor, looking back over his shoulder at the boy. “Did I say that I support him?” He shook his head. “No, that would be treasonous, would it not? I merely posited the existence of a different point of view from the one you have been led to assume. I never said I held that belief. I’m sure I can find my way from here. Reflect on what I’ve said.”

  Sebastian stood there in the middle of the corridor until the wizard passed around the far corner. “You might not have said you believed it, but you never denied it either,” he said when he was sure Breandan was out of earshot. Turning to go back to the gates, he realized that he was just outside the hospital ward. He decided he had put off this visit long enough.

  Making his way into the hospital ward, the smells hit Sebastian first. The odor of boiling herbs hung heavy in the air, laced with the sickly sweet smell of rotting flesh. In the days following the recovery of the Dazhberg, the gravest of the injured had died. Survivors of that first week were in various stages of rehabilitation. Bunks lined each side of the hospital ward, which was now only one third full. Many would return to service once recovered. A handful of brown-robed monks were scattered throughout the room, tending to the patients.

  One approached Sebastian, “Yes, young master? Is there someone in the ward you wish to visit?”

  Sebastian nodded, “Cenric?” he thought he needed to give more explanation. “He’s my…friend.”

  “Ah, the one brought in from the islands?”

  “Yes.”

  “You can find your friend just there, in one of the private chambers.” He pointed towards a low arch at the far end of the ward. “It was decided he needed to be kept separate from the rest of the wounded. His ailment is…” he cast an appraising eye on Sebastian, judging how to say it, “…different,” he concluded.

  Sebastian mumbled his thanks and turned toward the archway. The monk grabbed his arm, “Your friend’s injuries are to the mind and the spirit. Those take time to heal.”

  “What do you mean? Should I not have come?”

  “No, not that. It is good you have come to see your fri
end. It may help with his healing. Just remember, he may not be as you remember him. Be patient and do not take everything he says at face value. And do not linger over long.” Sebastian turned to stare at the archway. He wondered what he would find beyond that door and for a moment considered walking away before Cenric knew he had come.

  He commanded his legs to go forward one step at a time, inching toward the archway. His stomach was a knot of conflicting emotions. On the one hand, he felt responsible for putting Cenric in this position. On the other, he remembered the boy trying to kill him over and over again during their battle at Cale Uriasz. Which Cenric would he find?

  Reaching the archway, he stopped right on the threshold. This was the point of no return. He could still turn back. “Sebastian?” a wheezy voice emanated from the next chamber. “Is that you?”

  Forcing a smile on his face, he took the last step into the chamber and got his first look at Cenric since they’d placed him in the care of the monks. His face was grey and his hair, normally curly, was limp and flat. His cheeks had filled out some, but dark circles persisted under his haunted eyes. “Hello Cenric,” he said, his own voice but a whisper.

  “It is good to see you Sebastian. I’m glad you came. Come in, sit down.”

  Sitting, Sebastian found himself not sure what to say. The Cenric he remembered was full of life and carried most of both halves of the conversation. This Cenric regarded him with solemn eyes and allowed the silence between them to grow. Sebastian was not sure what to say. He grasped for anything, settling on, “You’re looking well.”

  Cenric grimaced, “You’re not a very good liar. I look terrible and feel worse.”

  Sebastian squirmed in his chair, “Well…yes, I suppose you do. You’ve been through so much…” he trailed off.