Poised to release a blast of power at the Krenon, he caught Asegeirr giving a signal to the other dwarves. In an instant, a squadron of dwarves had surrounded the four Brothers. “Ye have no writ coming here to our gates. If these two are as dangerous as ye say then rest assured the Gundarian Council will handle it. Or do you think you can challenge us on our own doorstep?”
Helmo eyed the dwarven soldiers arrayed on all sides and then fixed Asegeirr with a stare that would have sent most men running. “You dwarves in your hidey holes think the troubles of Cynneweald can not touch you. Know that the day is coming when you will have to pick a side. For your sakes I do hope you chose differently than you have today. We’ll go…for now, but we will not forget your actions. I will not forget.” Whirling his horse about, he charged down the canyon, nearly trampling two of the dwarves. His three companions followed close on their heels. Sebastian breathed a sigh of relief.
Shaking his head, Asegeirr turned back to Sebastian and Martino. “Damn Krenon. Hope you two are worth the trouble. Now, your weapons?”
Reluctantly, Sebastian and Martino turned over their swords and other armaments to the dwarven guards. Turning back around they found that the sheer cliff face had opened to reveal a tunnel leading deep into the side of the mountain. A dwarf took each of them by the arm and led them into the tunnel. Behind them the door closed, leaving them to the mercy of the dwarves in the pitch dark of the entry tunnel.
Before long, the dwarves pulled them into a side chamber. There were stone benches along one wall and green veins of glowing rock lit the room. “Wait here,” grunted Asegeirr, leaving the two men along with a pair of dwarven guards. There was no sign of their swords and horses. Martino had warned Sebastian that things would go this way, but he felt naked without his sword.
They waited a full half an hour before another dwarf came into the chamber. “Hail. I am Wulfsige, Captain of the Gundarian Guard. The door-warden has told me your tale, but I would hear it again from your own mouth and how you lost the letters of introduction. It is not the agreement for House Teodison to send anyone, much less his son, to us here.”
Once again, Martino spun his tale. There was enough truth in it to make sure it held up to scrutiny. Sebastian stared at the dwarf, not listening to the conversation. There was something off about Wulfsige. Closing his eyes, he relaxed and took a deep breath. When he opened them again, the scene had changed.
He was reminded of the vision he’d had fighting Cenric at Cale Uriasz. He could see the world around him, but overlaid were lines of force and power. The life force of the dwarf glowed strong, but woven throughout were black cords leading off into the distance. He blinked and lost the vision.
Martino’s conversation with Wulfsige ended and the dwarf left them standing there without another word. Sebastian leaned in to Martino and whispered, “There’s something wrong here.”
“What do you mean? Everything seems to be going fine.”
“There’s something controlling Wulfsige. I saw these black cords like puppet strings attached to him. It reminded me of the cords connecting Cenric to the Dragonstone.”
“Magic then,” said Martino.
“Magic.”
“What do we do?”
“I don’t know. Be on our guard I guess. There is more going on here than we understand.”
Moments later Wulfsige returned to the chamber. “Well, Martino Teodison, it appears you have a reprieve for now. Every thing you have said rings true. You will be granted shelter and an audience with the trade council on the morrow. You will not leave your chambers without an escort. More for your safety than anything else. Wouldn’t want you to get lost wandering about.” He laughed that rumbling laugh again. “Now, is there anything else you need to tell me?”
Sebastian’s vision blurred, and he saw the black cords around Wulfsige once again. Abruptly one cord rose into the air like a snake and struck across the chamber at Martino. Wrapping itself around him, Martino’s eyes blanked for a moment and then Sebastian lost the vision again. In a flash of recognition, Sebastian realized those were the same cords he had seen trapping his friend at Cuillen.
Stepping away from him, Martino glared at Sebastian. “This man is not what he claims!” Martino shouted. “His name is Sebastian Pwyll of Gabirel and he’s come to free your hostage, Krystelle Mora.”
Everything happened at once. Martino scrambled away from Sebastian, retreating behind Wolfsige. Sebastian dropped into a crouch, preparing to defend himself as the two dwarven guards bracketed him. Prepared to make a fight of it, he could feel the magic calling to him. He refused it. He did not understand what was happening here or what was causing those black cords and feared to unleash his magic into an already volatile situation. The butt of a dwarven short sword came down on his head and everything went dark.
#
Regaining consciousness, Sebastian took a moment before opening his eyes. He was laying on a hard stone surface and someone had placed a blanket over him. It was too much to hope he was still in the chamber where they had waited, but he was not sure yet if he wanted to find out. Some rescue this turned out to be.
Opening his eyes, he found the room draped in darkness. Wondering if they were still closed, he blinked and tried again. No, they were open. Groaning, he pulled himself upright.
“Sebastian?” the low voice came from the darkness to his right. He started, sitting up further and banging his head on the low ceiling. Stars filled his vision and he passed out again from the sharp pain.
Waking up a few moments later, Sebastian took more care as he opened his eyes again. A wash of low green light peppered the room as his eyes adjusted. A dark figure leaned over him.
“Are you ok?” she asked.
He recognized that voice now, “Krystelle?”
“It’s me. You had me worried for a while. You’ve been unconscious since they brought you.”
He struggled to sit up on the pallet. “Where are we?”
“Just lay back for now, you hit your head hard on the ceiling. To answer your questions, we’re in a dwarven dungeon. They must be short on cells to put us together. Here, take water.” Either Sebastian’s eyes were growing even more accustomed to the low light or there was more of it because he could see her more clearly now. She leaned over and dipped a metal cup into a pail sitting on the floor by the bench where Sebastian lay. Propping himself up, he sipped at the water, swirling it in his parched mouth before swallowing.
“Mmmm…that’s good.”
“Slowly now. You do not want to make yourself ill. They’ve been the perfect hosts. Other than locking me in this cell. Now, what are you doing here?”
He squirmed before answering, “I came to rescue you.”
Sebastian felt her irritation like a tangible force between them. “Rescue me! What? Did you think you would ride in here on a white horse and rescue the damsel in distress?”
“Well, no…not exactly.”
“What then? I’m certain that Damianus would not send you here. This whole dwarvish matter requires diplomacy and will work itself out in time. Damianus would trust that.”
“I don’t believe that it will. A herald arrived at the Dazhberg with a message from King Ercanbald and a Writ of Censure. He accused Gabirel of treason and summoned the council to meet him a Cinaeth. Withholding the Dragonstone from the dwarves was part of the writ.”
“None of that tells me why you are here. We understood the Gundarian Council would not be pleased at Gabirel keeping the Dragonstone from them. So again, Sebastian. Why are you here?”
“I knew you were in a cell and in danger. More danger than you realize, but I’ll come to that. I begged the council to send someone to Hallvard, but they refused. Krystelle, the council is not just taking an honor guard to Cineath. They are taking the whole army. Sterling Lex is there, he is the Arch-mage now.”
“Answer my question.”
“Fine. The truth is I came of my own accord. I could not bear to think of you languis
hing in a dwarven prison so I ran away from the camp.”
“YOU DID WHAT?” Sebastian cringed at the coming onslaught. “You complete and utter dolt! I mean, how could you be so stupid? You came here with no plan or authority, got yourself caught and thrown into the same cell as me. The dwarves will never accept you came on your own. They will accuse Gabirel of sending a spy. All you accomplished is to make things much, much worse.”
Sebastian sat there and took another sip of the water. There was nothing to say. She was right. He had botched this and he knew it. She broke the silence after a long moment. “Nothing to say for yourself? Perhaps you learned a little wisdom. How did they find you out? Did you walk up to the door and pound on it, demanding they bring me to you? I would not have put it past you the way this is going.”
Sebastian shook his head, “No, I came here with a friend. Martino is his name. He is the son of a merchant family in Cale Donall and remembered the words to say to get us past the Door-warden. It all fell apart from there, and that’s the danger I mentioned.”
“Go on,” she said.
“Remember after Uriasz I told you I saw a cord connecting Cenric to the dragon through the Dragonstone?” She nodded. “I saw something similar around the captain of the guard here. Whatever it was, it…attacked is the word I guess. Yes, it attacked Martino. He betrayed me and gave me over to the guards. Something is controlling the dwarves and I suspect it’s affecting other people. I saw it at a village on our way here. It’s as if the whole country is being infected with suspicion and violence. Do you think it has something to do with Sterling Lex assuming the mantle of Arch-mage?”
“No, something else is at work here. Darden or one of the others would know for sure, but I believe they would have said something if that was the case. I wish I understood what was causing it. We must get out of here and tell the council. They need to know before they face Lex at Cinaeth. How much does Martino know about you and your abilities?”
“Some, there was no way to keep it from him. Why?”
“Your magic may be our one advantage here. From what I was taught, dwarven magic is limited to working with rock and stone. They should have no way to stop you from getting us out. We have to come up with a plan.” A grating sound from the door drew their attention. Someone was coming for them. Planning would have to come later.
When the door to their cell opened, the glow of the green rocks intensified. In the back of his mind, Sebastian surmised that the glow resulted from that dwarvish magic. For the first time since awakening he saw Krystelle clearly. Overall she looked healthy, but the circles beneath her eyes spoke volumes about her state of exhaustion and worry. She had tied back her hair with a leather cord and wisps escaped the edges to frame a dirt-smudged face. He noticed an oily, grimy sheen to her hair and face that always came when she went days without washing, which she seldom did. He was glad to see she had weathered captivity well.
A quartet of dwarvish guards entered the cell, along with Captain Wulfsige. The dwarf wore a chain mail jerkin like it was a second skin and Sebastian wondered idly if he even took it off to sleep. His long beard was split in half, beads dangling from the ties holding each segment together. A wicked axe hung from the belt at his waist. Sebastian would not want to confront him in these tunnels. That axe would have a definite advantage over a sword in close quarters.
Wulfsige looked over the two of them. “Good. Yer both awake. You’ve been summoned a’fore the council to answer for yourselves.” He jerked his head for the two prisoners to follow as he walked back out of the cell. The four guards watched them closely and took up position just behind as they made their way to the council chamber.
Entering the chamber, a wave of emotion washed over Sebastian. This was an ancient place, formed of an ancient magic. It called out to him in kinship, and in that kinship pleaded for his aid. There was something wrong and, to Sebastian, the stones themselves seemed ready to weep at the state of affairs. He had not expected this, and he struggled to keep himself from weeping along with it. He resolved himself to stillness and in his heart he promised the soul of this place to do everything in his power to free it of the corruption permeating this ancient place.
A dais stood at the far side of the room with three stone benches. The guards marched Krystelle and Sebastian to the center of the room and Wulfsige dismissed them back to the corridor. Still at their side, the dwarven warrior addressed the two prisoners, “Krystelle Mora, as envoy you know the rules in petitioning before the Gundarian Council. I urge you to remember those lessons well.” He stared at Sebastian for a moment, brows furrowed, then moved to the edge of the dais.
Three hooded figures made their way through the chamber and onto the benches atop the dais and Krystelle bowed her head. Sebastian, taking her lead, followed suit. The figure in the center spoke and he realized it was a female voice. He realized he had never heard of a female dwarf.
“I am Finnguala, Highest of the Gundarian Council. This council has summoned you to answer for charges of trespass and conspiracy. Sebastian Pwyll, Squire of Gabirel. It is known to us that you gained entrance under false pretenses. Pretending to be what you are not to breech our walls. Your own companion, Martino Teodison, admits as much. Envoy Mora, we have brought you before us once again to answer for this action. Was it not enough that Gabriel withholds the Eligius Muliach from us? Must it use deceit and treachery? Before you speak, consider that we know King Ercanbald has issued a Writ of Censure and summoned the Gabirelian Council to Cinaeth. What have you to say for Gabirel?”
Krystelle took a deep breath and wove a tale. Sebastian barely heard what she was saying. He withdrew deep inside himself and allowed his vision to expand, willing himself to see the Truth. He saw deep earth power running through the council chamber. Instilled with every strike of the pick-axe as the chamber had been excavated and reinforced through centuries of use, the place vibrated with energy. Each bench on the dais emanated with a nexus of power and authority.
The council members themselves glowed as representatives and stewards of that earth magic. The crystalline beauty of their auras belied the gruff, rocky exterior he associated with dwarves.
Then he saw it. Trailing in from a long distance, thin black cords wrapped around the heads of each of the council members. As Krystelle spoke, the cords pulsed in opposition to her words and he wondered if they were even hearing what she was saying.
The dwarven earth magic was powerless to fight this invasion on its own and it called to him again, begging his aid. He remembered the promise he had made upon first entering this place and his resolve doubled. He would free these dwarves.
Mentally, he focused on the cords attached to Finnguala. He tried to visualize them releasing their hold on the dwarven woman and breaking away. Beads of sweat materialized on his forehead, even in the cool air of the chamber. He gasped, his effort failing. A burst of power came down the cords, thickening them. Whatever their source, it was alerted to his presence and fighting back.
Sebastian redoubled his efforts, fighting to align reality with a vision of the dwarves free of this influence. One of the black cords bifurcated, sending a strand his way. It struck at him like a viper and a sharp pain pierced through his right eye, sending a burst of agony along his spine. He lost his concentration and the vision.
Pushing away the pain, he looked around the room. Seconds had passed in what seemed an eternity. Krystelle had barely finished her preamble and Wulfsige had not moved from his position. It was clear to him no one in the chamber knew of the battle taking place.
Taking a deep breath, Sebastian reengaged the vision. It came easier now. He was getting better at this. The black cord that attacked him hovered in the air a few feet from his head, prepared to strike again should he prove to be a threat. He considered it along with his options. Nothing he had done had any effect.
He took a different approach. Grounding himself, he stretched out to the latent earth magic filling the council chamber. It welcomed him as o
ne might a long-lost cousin. Celebratory, but wary after a long absence. He felt its plea for aid, but also a trepidation he might fall prey to the same corruption.
Digging deep he made himself one with the earth. In the back of his mind he noticed the beat of far way horses galloping across a grassy plain, the crashing of waves upon a shoreline, the gentle massage of a rainstorm, even the sweet agony of miners excavating for gold. The whole world was there, and a warning flowed through from the earth magic that it would overwhelm him. It promised to shield him and shelter him as a child of the earth.
Fortified he turned his attention back to the matter at hand. That black cord swayed in his direction, but he ignored it and focused again on Finnguala. Connecting with her, he allowed the earth magic to flow through him to her as a foil to the influence of the black cords. Sensing the danger, the swaying cord struck again. This time the earth magic absorbed and muted the attack. Again and again it struck, each time the attack flowed through him and dissipated into the earth, leaving him unaffected.
Pressing in hard, Sebastian once again willed Finnguala free of the black cords. He watched as they frayed and snapped away, freeing her mind. As they did, the cords attached to the other two council members faded away as well. The last cord frayed and broke, receding into the distance and taking the one attacking Sebastian with it. There was no boom of thunder or release of light to mark his victory, it was just done. The dwarves were free.
Relief flooded into Sebastian from the earth magic. The gratitude more overwhelming than the despair had been. Releasing his grip on the earth, it drained out of him and flowed back into the ground. It was almost gone when he realized his mistake. The pain of each strike of that black cord pounded into his head, splitting it apart in agony. Unable to bear it, Sebastian crumpled to the ground.
Eligium- The Complete Series Page 37
