Eligium- The Complete Series

by Jake Allen Coleman

  They rode in silence for a time, and Krystelle turned her attention to the land around them. Although the moon provided plenty of light to find their way, a darkness settled around the three riders and the forest landscape had given way to swampland. How had she not noticed? Eibhear Bog would be near, but surely Jeffry would not be leading them into the swamp. Her horse whickered and danced, sensing the change, and Jeffry brought his to a stop. He glanced at the two women. The smuggler felt it also.

  Sitting motionless, they listened to the swamp for any sign of what was causing the change. Krystelle wondered if the Krenon had somehow caught up with them. She did not think so. This felt different, and the Krenon would not hesitate to retake their prisoner.

  Minutes ticked past and Krystelle's feeling of unease grew. It was as if spiders crawled up and down her spine. She shrugged, trying to excise the feeling, but it only grew more intense. Beside her, Daciana strung her bow and placed an arrow at the ready, while Jeffry drew his sword, gripping the hilt tight. Instinctively, her hand inched toward where a sword should hang before she remembered she was unarmed. She felt naked and exposed, defenseless against whatever was coming.

  A shriek echoed from somewhere ahead of them, sending an icy chill down Krystelle's spine. It was a hollow, empty cry and the sound gripped Krystelle's heart with loneliness and despair. Tears welled up in her eyes at the feeling of death on the wind.

  Then it was gone. The heaviness lifted and the swamp was just a swamp again.

  Daciana found her voice first, "What was that?"

  Shaking his head, Jeffry pulled his horse around, "I don't know and I don't think I want to find out."

  Krystelle peered off into the forest. As otherworldly as the cry had been, there was something familiar about it and she felt drawn. "There's something..." she said as her horse moved in that direction, almost without her urging.

  "What are you doing?" Daciana hissed.

  Urging her horse forward, Krystelle looked back at her friend, "I have to see what that sound was."

  Jeffry grabbed her horse's halter, "Are you insane? You heard that sound same as us. We need to be far from this place."

  Pulling free of his grip, Krystelle urged her horse forward. "Follow me or not. I'm going." For all her outward confidence, inside she screamed at herself to stop, that her friends were right. Ignoring that loud voice of reason, she continued forward. She had to know what caused that sound.

  Looking out through the portal in the side of the ship, Cenric watched as Cale Uriasz faded into the distance. After the fog killed Medron, Cenric spent two anxious days waiting for either the wizards to discover the other boy's body or a chance to escape. He'd expected search parties to go out immediately, but no one missed Medron until well into the next morning and assumed he'd gone exploring the jungle. As a senior apprentice he had some amount of freedom and his absence was not unusual.

  Late on the second day, however, he was due to meet with Wheinburn for private tutoring. Missing that appointment raised concern and the search parties were dispatched. Watching them leave the encampment, Cenric knew it would only be a matter of time before Medron's body was discovered.

  As it happened a merchant ship docked at port that morning for trade and was heading out the same day. Cenric decided the fates were with him and the ship offered his best chance of escape. Swimming out from shore, he came up to the ship on its port side, away from the island and climbed aboard, seeking out a dark place in the hold to hide. There were enough stores in the compartment he choose to provide food throughout the journey and he figured he could get water through the porthole when it rained. If all else failed, he would risk going up to the deck after dark, cloaking himself with his magic.

  The afternoon stretched on into dusk, then from dusk to dark, and Cenric waited in his hidey-hole, listening to the sounds of the crew up on the deck. It reached full dark and the swaying of the ship lulled him to sleep.

  It seemed he barely closed his eyes when the light of dawn woke him. Stretching out, he cocked his ear to listen to the sounds of the ship. Up on deck, the crew busied themselves adjusting the sails and readying the ship for the day. Footsteps in the passageway outside the compartment told him someone was coming his way. Holding his breath, he willed them to keep walking.

  It was no good. The steps stopped right outside his compartment and the scraping of the door told him all he needed to know. Mentally, he prepared an array of spells to deal with whomever came through. Most of them were non-lethal. He quivered with anticipation as the power built up within him.

  Opening the door, the sailor took one step into the compartment and pulled up, seeing Cenric lying on the floor. "What 'ave we here? A stowaway by the look of ye."

  Cenric rose to his feet, preparing to cast his first spell. The old sailor appeared to be unarmed, but he did not want to take any chances. He tensed, and the man must have seen his reaction.

  "Calm yerself, lad. We're merchants here not pirates. Captain'll want to talk to you though."

  "Just talk?"

  The oldster nodded, "Just talk."

  Itching to cast one of his spells, Cenric decided to play this out and the sailor gestured for the boy to follow him down the passageway to a ladder leading to the deck. Clambering up after the sailor, a fresh wind smacked him in the face. The sea breeze was a welcome change from the stale air of his compartment.

  A voice called from across the deck, "Hey there, Zharko. What's that you've got?"

  "A stowaway from the Cale it looks like."

  The captain stomped across the deck to take a look at Cenric. Deep creases lined a well-tanned face, weathered from years at sea. "Aye, think you're right. I'll take it from here, back to your inventory." The old sailor shimmied back down the ladder as the captain turned to Cenric, "Well lad, you running away from the wizards, are you?"

  It was true enough and Cenric thought he saw an opportunity, "I am."

  "You one of them apprentices?" The wizards did not take kindly to run away apprentices, so it was a logical first question. Any merchant who wanted to continue to do business with them would never aid in an apprentice escaping, so Cenric needed to make this man believe he was a member of the work parties.

  He knew how to put a man like this of his guard, "No sir, I'm no magical apprentice. I'm from Aldmoor, worked at the Frisky Flask there until my master apprenticed me off to a carpenter. He said business was down and he couldn't keep me on any longer. Anyway, I was with the carpenter for a while when he brought me here. I hate wood working so I decided to leave." While he spoke, Cenric wove a subtle spell to influence the captain. He sighed, as the magic trickled out from him.

  "Carpentry not to your liking, eh? Ever thought of taking up seamanship? It’s an honorable trade and you'll get a chance to see the world. Lad like you's always looking for adventure."

  His spell was working a little too well if the captain wanted to offer him a permanent berth on the ship. Cenric tweaked his casting in response, he wanted the captain accommodating, not subservient. "No sir, I just want to get home quick as I can. My mum is sick and I want to get back to her. If you could just see your way clear to dropping me off at Cale Donall, I won't be any more of a bother to you and your crew."

  The captain laughed, "Cale Donall? We'll not be making port there for two months at least. No, we're heading in the opposite direction."

  Cenric didn't know why he picked Donall as his destination. It just felt right. Maybe the finder spell had made an impact after all and was directing his steps. If that were true, two months was far too long. He needed this captain to take him there directly.

  He reached out once more into the captain's mind, "But don't you think Cale Donall is a better choice? I'm sure the cargo in your hold will fetch a good price there."

  A look of confusion came over the captain's face, "Donall...good price. No...going to..."

  Cenric lowered his voice, "You're going to Cale Donall. Aren't you captain?"

  "Cale Donall
? Aye." The captain turned to his crew, shouting orders, "Change in plans, lads! Set a new course. We're for Cale Donall."

  "Cale Donall, Captain?" called the sailor manning the helm. "What's in Cale Donall?"

  "You let me worry about that, just set the damn course!"

  #

  With the trade-winds at her back, the Dolphin made good time, and easy sailing to Cale Donall. Cenric spent the majority of the journey below-decks and out of sight of the crew, periodically coming up to speak with the captain to ensure his spell continued to hold the captain in thrall. During the course of the journey it became necessary to extend the reach to the first mate and several other members of the crew to prevent their interference in his plans. Not that he minded. Even those small releases of magic were a salve to the itch inside when he went too long between spells.

  That done, he bent his thought toward his next actions upon arriving at the Cale. The closer they came to Donall, the stronger the pull, until it was almost a tangible thing. That feeling told him he was on the right track. Even though his finding spell had not responded as he thought it should, it guided him. He counted on it showing the next step once they made landfall.

  It was late in the afternoon on the day they finally reached Cale Donall and Cenric itched to get off the ship and begin his search for the Heartstone in earnest. He'd only been to Cale Donall once before, on his way to Cale Uriasz and, being under the thumb of his wizard escort, had not seen much of the city.

  As they approached the docks, Cenric made his way up to the deck to have a final word with the Captain. He needed to ensure the wizards at Cale Uriasz did not manage to track him to Donall through this ship. "Captain, a word with you," he said as he walked up to the stanchion where the captain stood, with a keen eye on the preparations for docking.

  Captain Ruaridh turned to him, "Aye, lad?"

  "You have done well and made good speed in our voyage. I have one more task for you." While he spoke, Cenric re-energized the spell holding the captain, preparing him for one final command.

  "Final task?" mumbled the captain.

  "You'll sail with the morning tide along a bearing I give you. Sail four days and drop anchor. Wait there. You will be met."

  For a moment the captain's eyes cleared, "Sail with the tide? Nah, we've got to restock."

  Cenric pressed in on the man's mind, "You will sail." The resupply would be unnecessary, the bearing Cenric planned to give the man would take him far outside the normal shipping lanes and right into the path of an unpleasant surprise Cenric had prepared. No one on the ship would survive.

  Nodding his agreement, Ruaridh's eyes glazed over again. Cenric gave him the bearing and turned to the gangplank to wait for the ship to finish docking. There would be no loose ends here.

  As soon as the ship docked, and before the customs officials arrived, Cenric scrambled across the plank and disappeared onto the crowded quay. Putting the ship and her doomed crew out of his mind, he focused on the task ahead.

  He had not gotten far when a tingling sensation ran up his spine. He did not know who or why, but someone was watching him. Turning down the next street, he quickened his pace, looking for an opportunity to catch a glimpse of whomever was back there. Word could not have traveled here from Cale Uriasz ahead of his arrival so it could not be one of the wizards. Who then?

  With any luck it was just some pick-pocket mistaking him for an easy mark. Just a year or so earlier and they would have been right. He'd been so naive, living in his little bubble in Aldmoor, content with the dribbles of magic allowed to him. Experience had taught him much about the world and its cruelties. Power was the only key to surviving it.

  Some chose to survive through political power. Others, force of arms. Commoners took what power they could and otherwise stayed out of the way of their betters. The wizards coveted magical power, but they were too afraid to use it and claim their rightful place. With the will to use magic to its fullest extent, the wizards could have claimed dominion over all Cynneweald and put an end to the petty wars and conflicts that plagued the kingdom. No, they were too weak to do what was necessary. Cenric had learned that being weak did not get you anywhere.

  Glancing behind him, Cenric finally got a look at the person following. The sight almost stopped him in his tracks, but he had just enough presence of mind to continue walking. With that one glance, he'd locked eyes with his pursuer. With his red robes and bald head, he could only be one thing...a Krenon. What stood out most to Cenric, though, were his eyes. Cast over with a milky white film, the man was blind. Yet somehow, he stared right at Cenric.

  Increasing his pace once more, Cenric weaved his way through the city, taking random turns in an attempt to lose the Krenon. He dared not look back again, but could feel those blind eyes watching his every move.

  Toying with the idea of using his magic to escape, Cenric rejected it immediately. Where there was one Krenon, there would be more. Without knowing how many were out there, he dared not risk a confrontation. Confident his magic was powerful enough to defeat two or three of them, he could not be certain of the outcome should there be more. Besides, he did not want to draw that kind of attention to himself. He had not come all this way to fall prey to the Krenon.

  Rounding a corner, Cenric ducked into the next alleyway before the Krenon came back into sight. He broke into a run, emerging onto a parallel street moments later. Skidding around a wagon, he ignored the shouts of the teamster and made a beeline for the next intersection.

  Barreling around the corner he found what he was looking for and ran up to the door of an abandoned building. Trying the latch, he pulled the door open and pushed his way through. Blinking twice in the dim light he realized the building was not quite so abandoned as it had appeared.

  #

  "Now what have we here?"

  Cenric crouched next to the door he'd just come through. With the three white fishes embroidered on their dark blue tunics, the three men inside the building had to be part of the city watch in Cale Donall.

  "Thief returning to the scene of the crime, I expect," second the second watchman, drawing his sword. "Don't you try anything, lad. There's three of us and one of you."

  Were Cenric any ordinary boy, three armed watchmen would have no trouble subduing him. However, he had other options available to him. Pursing his lips, Cenric considered whether to twist the watch-men's minds as he'd done with the Dolphin's captain or simply kill them outright.

  Deciding to keep it clean he lifted his hands to cast his spell when the thought of the Krenon outside stopped him. A release of magical energy would surely draw the man like a moth to flame. That would not do at all. Continuing his motion, he raised his hands in surrender and put on the mask of the old Cenric.

  "Thief! I'm not a thief. I was just coming in here looking for my master. He's a carpenter you see and we've just arrived in town to do work for one of the merchants. Master Jowan will be so mad at me if I've come to the wrong building. I'm already late and there's just so much work to do..."

  The first watchman raised a hand, stopping the deluge of words pouring from Cenric's mouth. "Carpenter's apprentice, are you?"

  Cenric nodded vigorously, opening his eyes wide.

  The watchmen looked over at his fellows. "Well, I suppose that's an easy enough story to check out. You'll need to come with us boy." A nod of his head sent one of his companions forward, pulling a length of rope from his tunic to bind Cenric's hands.

  Coming near to panic, Cenric considered changing his tactic and using his magic regardless of the nearness of the Krenon outside. He had not given them much to go on, but it would not take the watch long to figure out that his story was a lie and then the charges of thievery would come back into play.

  The irony was that Cenric had not actually broken any laws in Cale Donall. He almost laughed at that realization. His real crimes, including murder, occurred far from the city and if the watch knew the half of what he had done they might strike him down on the spot
out of fear. Provided he did not kill them first.

  "Please sir," Cenric continued. "Master Jowan will be frightful mad 'f I'm late, much less 'rested." He was laying it on thick now. "I'm 'fraid he'll beat me something fierce this time."

  "That's between you and your master," the lead watchman nodded to his companion who proceeded to bind Cenric's hands. "None of our affair really."

  "Maybe he'll just let you sit a night or two in a cell before he comes to fetch you," laughed the watchman binding his hands.

  Cenric glared at the man and marked his face in memory. That one would pay. Not today, but one day Cenric would teach him a lesson he'd not ever forget. Finished tying Cenric's hands, the watchman caught the look Cenric gave him and took a step back.

  "What's wrong with you?" said the leader. "Grab hold of the boy and let's get him back to the cells. Nothing else for us to see here. Old Patrok will have to count his losses if this boy turns out to be what he says. Penny pinching grubber as he is, that’ll eat his craw."

  The watchman grabbed Cenric's arm and drug him back out into the street. Searching up and down the street, there was no sign of the Krenon. Cenric almost breathed a sigh of relief. Perhaps his capture at the hands of the watch would serve to aid his quest after all in some way he had not anticipated.

  The three watchmen led him through the warren of streets and alleyways, nodding to merchants and passersby as they went. Once, they shouted greetings to another patrol passing by the way. "Got yerselves a little mouse there!" called the leader of the other group.

  Cenric's captor nodded, "Thief maybe. We'll see. You heard of a new craftsman in town, name of...what was it he said...Jowan?"

  The other watchman shook his head, "Nah, not heard of anyone by that name. We'll keep an ear out though."