The Fractured Heartstone

by Ian Thornburrow-Dobson

  King Trelech was seldom disturbed and this was the way he liked it. He handled matters of state brutally and there had been dissenters at first and he had dealt with them swiftly. Half of the court had either fled Mal Ithir or had ended up swinging at the end of a rope. Military commanders, diplomats and even low-level bureaucrats had fallen on the wrong side of the new King’s malicious nature and all had been made an example of. Trelech smiled at this thought as he walked about his father’s old bedroom.

  In the middle of the room stood a large four-poster bed. The walls had been bare since Zoirech had not been one for reading or learning but Trelech had had the bookcases from his old room hauled in and his dusty tomes and weighty volumes now decorated the vast space. The rug too had been moved since Zoirech also had an aversion to the trappings of finery, preferring whitewashed walls and bare stone underfoot. Trelech looked over to a large chest of drawers and his father’s sword had been placed upon it. The new Akanthiri Sovereign walked over to it and ran a hand along the blade, shivering in malevolent delight as he mentally recollected Zoirech’s demise. A soft knock at the door roused him and he gruffly called out, commanding whoever had knocked to enter.

  The door swung inwards to admit an older man. Trelech looked to him and instantly recognised it as Kalythyll, the new head of the Draconis Legium, and nodded to him. The cult leader swished into a room wreathed in ill-fitting fine clothes and the old man fidgeted under them, moving the garments about until they were at least bearable, if not comfortable. He stopped in the middle of the room while Trelech eyed up the ancestral sword of his family. He enjoyed making his subordinates wait for him to be ready to speak to them and he always spoke first. It had taken a few vicious killings using the gem before that lesson had been learned.

  “Speak,” Trelech said simply, not bothering to turn to face the old man.

  “Sire, I have news from our agents abroad,” reported Kalythyll.

  “Say what you have come to say old man,” the King replied coldly. He turned to look at Kalythyll and saw the older man squirm under his gaze, much to his satisfaction. “I do not intend to wither away from old age while you get to the point.”

  “Our brethren have infiltrated the Western Kingdoms of Ljarthaal and Ciphearyn and they will soon be in place to follow out your instructions. Also, our agent, Arlydd, from Maleardhus, has been contacted by our mages and is heading to Tirgaal to carry out her mission.”

  “Good. Is there a problem then?”

  “No sire, I was just reporting in.”

  “No, you weren’t,” Trelech grumbled matter-of-factly. “You are a snivelling worm and you are reporting what you think I want to hear, not what I actually want to know in the hopes that you can avoid addressing it.”

  “That wasn’t what I was doing, lord. If you permit me to speak, I shall be direct.”

  “Do you take me for a fool? Don’t answer, it was rhetorical. You forget of my mastery of the gem and I know when you are lying to me. I can hear your heart pounding in your chest and that tells me all I need to know. So, allow me to be direct. Where is my brother? Where is Barlech?”

  “I’m afraid we do not know sire,” Kalythyll said uneasily. He shifted on the spot and tried to avert his eyes from Trelech’s emotionless features. He felt his cold stare scrutinising him and the effect was altogether unpleasant. “Since he fled Mal Ithir members of our order tracked him as far as the wilderness of Dierzel but he vanished. Our agents were killed by the lunatics that reside there and none have survived long enough to learn what became of him.”

  “This is unacceptable. I demand that you locate Barlech and deal with the threat immediately or my mood may become unpleasant.”

  “That will be easier said than done. The region is inhabited by old warriors who have not fallen in battle. They seek a glorious death and so travel there to fight with anyone they see until they finally fall or old age claims them.”

  “I fail to see the complication. If it is death they seek, then grant it to them. Just find out what became of Barlech.”

  “Sire, there are other problems that you should be aware of. The southern provinces have not reacted well to Zoirech’s death and there is talk of open rebellion. I would advise that you abandon your plans abroad until you have calmed things at home.”

  “Thank you but I have no need of your advice. They will fall into line when I bring glory back to Akanthir. If excuses and dull words are all you have to offer then leave. Just do as you’re commanded while I have use for you because, if not, you’ll end up like Zyffhal faster than you can pray to your God.”

  Trelech dismissed the cult leader with a dismissive wave and turned back to the grisly affair that was being conducted in the main square. He crossed the room to watch the latest batch of killings with grim approval. The protestations and squeals of the next clutch of victims was music to the sovereign’s ears and thanks to the power of the gem shard he could hear each wailing voice as clear as if they were standing next to him. Kalythyll coughed softly and exited the room, now more certain than ever that Trelech would have to be put down but with no idea on how to accomplish such a feat.

  ***

  Ydari’s mind wandered as he leaned in his saddle, his eyes firmly fixed on the horizon and his thoughts dwelling on his quarry. The party had once again set out before dawn, much to Lothram’s chagrin. Despite this, each of them had been thankful for a soft bed that night. The Watch Captain called a halt as they passed a small village to the right and a few of its residents were hard at work, fetching pails of water while a woman banged the dust out of a sodden rug. Ydari dismounted and walked over to her, throwing up a hand and calling out to her in greeting as he did so. He asked some questions quickly and silently deposited a gold coin into her palm as thanks. As the Captain re-joined his companions, she stared open-mouthed at it before heading into a small house, calling out in delight.

  “They came this way,” Ydari announced as he swung a leg over the black roan.

  Ydari kicked his heels into the flanks of his horse and set out once more. They had journeyed for most of the next day and had left the bustling town of Ilvastus far behind. The Watch Captain had felt a pang of homesickness as he had left the microcosm of the White City but now, he was entirely focused on the task at hand. This cycle had been repeated for most of the day, Ydari’s companions pausing while he conversed with various travellers along the highway. The thoroughfare swept to the right as a monstrously huge lake came into view with the southernmost peaks of the Belegraad Mountains sparkling in the distance.

  Suddenly Ydari stopped short, his keen eye scanning the horizon. A mass of robed figures was visible in the distance by the northern tip of the lake and Ydari felt his heart hammering in his chest and his face become flush. Raelynne followed suit and she spied the same thing that Ydari had and understanding dawned quickly amongst the rest of them. Abruptly, the Captain hollered hoarsely and charged his roan into a full gallop. The rest of his companions were lost in the dust thrown up by the Captain’s steed until they too spurred their mounts on.

  The wind whipped through Ydari’s hair as they raced toward their targets. He felt a surge of exultant jubilation pass through him as the thin slither of cultists finally came into view directly ahead of them. Their black cloaks billowed with the breeze and they walked in formation stiffly. The Captain could see the person at the head of the group faintly and it was them that was now his sole focus. The thundering of the horses’ hooves and the plume of dust made the cultists turn to investigate the sound of the disturbance and wheeled about to see Ydari and his companions bearing down on them. The first rows of cultists parted immediately but the leader stood their ground.

  The Watch Captain stood in the stirrups as he pulled on the reins of his horse sharply, his fellows skidding to a halt behind him. In one movement the Watch Captain dismounted the horse and withdrew his blade, glaring intently at the cult leader as he advanced. The occultist turned to face Ydari, a dragon mask disguising the feat
ures whilst the billowing robes hid much of their physique. The leader stood defiantly and languidly reached a hand up, slowly removing the mask to reveal a woman with strikingly black eyes. This was accentuated by a sharp angular nose and thick black eyebrows that formed aggressive points, making it seem as if she had a perpetual frown. She had tanned olive skin and a small mouth that pursed as she looked Ydari up and down.

  The rest of her followers remained frozen on the spot and were content to merely watch events unfold. One of their number clutched a dagger tightly and quickly hurled himself towards Ydari from behind. Raelynne however had other ideas as she raised her arms and unleashed a lancing bolt of electricity that blasted Ydari’s attacker squarely in the back. The impact sent him careening into the Captain who immediately spun and grabbed his would-be assailant by the scruff of his neck and shoved him to the ground bodily.

  As if emboldened by this display of bravado, the other cultists hollered enthusiastically and joined the fray. Kael suddenly loosed an arrow which buried itself in the chest of a robed form who folded in half and fell to the ground ineffectually. Lothram grinned menacingly as he and Teobrin carved through the front ranks of their opponents, their vicious blades slicing and dicing all that had the misfortune to be in their way. Meanwhile Idrahil swept to the right and her sword danced through the air as she deftly blocked clumsy attacks before the steel of her blade found its mark time and again. In quick order she dispatched her foes and half a dozen miserable forms whined nasally at her feet.

  The cult leader stood her ground in spite of the sight of her followers being dispatched so easily. Ydari turned his back on the melee and glared daggers at the woman, content to let Raelynne and the others to fall upon them. The mage suddenly placed herself at Ydari’s side and the Captain felt the air tingle around him as lightning crackled up her arms. The cult leader’s face sneered contemptuously and she merely turned her back on the pair of them. This simple action made Raelynne snarl in anger and she threw her arms up, streaks of lightning cracking the air violently towards her foe. She turned on the spot and closed a fist, the mage’s powerful attack dissipating suddenly before the chief cultist thrust an arm over her head and arcing bolts of electricity shot harmlessly into the sky.

  “You’ll have to do better than that Magi,” the cultist sneered derisively. She turned to look at Ydari as she spoke once more. “As for you, you should have killed me in Maleardhus because you fools don’t stand a chance.”

  The leader stood frozen on the spot for a moment before she was wreathed in ethereal flame. It hovered around her body for a few seconds and then surged forwards in a vast jet of fiery death. Raelynne reacted quickly, shouting out a hasty spell as a magical ward flashed into existence around her. The fire formed a ball around the mage as she stepped forwards, grunting with the effort of maintaining the shield whilst fire licked about her and grew in intensity. The jet died away but the fire continued to rage like an inferno and Raelynne was lost from sight. Ydari focussed his mind and raced through the memories of the gem shard until a strange calm fell over him. He motioned and the ground shook ominously beneath the cultist. Two gnarled saplings grew tremendously quickly and shot up instantly, ensnaring the cultist’s outstretched hands and the bark grew in thick knots around her wrists.

  The cultist’s focus was broken and the fire around Raelynne died away. Before the mage or the Captain could press their advantage however a sudden blast of magical fury knocked them backwards and the entangling vines broke away and the saplings were charred to their roots. The cultist leader dropped to her knees and motioned with her arms once more. Abruptly, a chunk of ice formed in the air in front of her before it slammed into Ydari and Raelynne with tremendous force. More and more blocks of ice formed magically and were thrown into them until a particularly large piece dashed itself against Ydari’s head and he was thrown to the ground. Teobrin raced forwards, the last of the Draconis Legium members having been dealt with, and he latched onto the fallen Captain and desperately tried to drag him to safety. The cult leader had other designs however as yet another block of ice careened into his skull and he crashed to the ground.

  The mage shouted in fury as the relentless magical attack subsided. She rose to her feet and the two magic wielders sized one another up for a moment. Raelynne concentrated for a moment and then unleashed a fresh batch of electricity out before her but she blinked in surprise when she saw that the cult leader was nowhere to be seen. Unexpectedly the occultist reappeared just inches in front of Raelynne and she slammed her fists into the mage’s abdomen. The powerful strike had been augmented with kinetic energy and the impact sent Raelynne flying about twenty feet, slamming into Lothram and Kael as she was thrown backwards and all three of them smashed into the ground with terrifying speed. As they dusted themselves off, a maniacal laughter filled the air.

  “Is this the best you have?” the leader mocked. “When I saw you were giving chase, I was at least expecting a challenge instead of this. The champion of the gem shard is nothing more than a child compared to my power and his pet mage needs more practice.”

  “I’ll break you yet,” Ydari snarled back at her. “You will tell me what I want to know and I’ll dispatch the rest of your order from this plane of existence.”

  “You’ll do no such thing. I have things to attend to. I should thank you though, cutting the dead weight, as it were,” the cultist drawled on, indicating the dead and injured members of the Draconis Legium. “I have no need of them.”

  “I shall know who you are and what you are hiding!” the Captain exclaimed furiously, the agonised throbbing in his head making it hard to think.

  “I do not care if you know who I am, you will never be able to stop me. I am Arlydd the Divine, proud member of the Draconis Legium and worshipper of the true God. I look forward to our next encounter in Tirgaal.”

  Before Ydari could take another step toward the cult leader, a portal opened up ahead of her and she stepped through. It snapped shut an instant later and Ydari was left raging impotently whilst a dazed Raelynne and Lothram walked back over to him while Kael saw to the mounts. Idrahil kneeled beside the comatosed form of Teobrin who still had not moved from the onslaught that Arlydd had wrought. A large bump was forming on his head and lines of blood ominously dribbled out from his nostrils. The female watch member worked quickly as she ran over to the horses that Kael now worked to calm and opened a bag quickly, returning mere moments later with medical provisions. Raelynne’s features greyed with concern as she observed Idrahil’s work and mentally assessed Teobrin’s condition. She joined the young woman and the two of them worked in silence for several minutes, the magi occasionally casting a spell to soothe the young man’s pain and to try to alleviate any swelling.

  “How is he?” Ydari asked at last.

  “We need to get him out of here,” Idrahil replied, not taking her eyes off of Teobrin. “If he doesn’t get treatment this could prove fatal and there’s nothing else that I can do for him.”

  “Very well,” Ydari replied simply. “Let’s get Teobrin to a doctor and when he’s better we have to track down Arlydd and put a stop to whatever she is planning.”

  Chapter Ten

  The sun shone over the kingdom of Ljarthaal, far to the north of Tirgaal and away from the trouble and internal politics that was rocking that nation to its core. The King looked out from his modest palace and out at the sprawling metropolis of Kalvinth. The city was relatively small compared to the other capitals of the Western Kingdoms but despite its humble appearance it had a long rich history and culture. Mountains circled Kalvinth on three sides and King Fazhrae gazed contentedly at the frosted peaks and his thoughts drifted to his youth when he would play in the foothills with his siblings. The city itself was cradled in the valley and the ring of rock had made it impervious to conquest throughout the long centuries.

  The palace had been erected on an artificial terrace in the centre of the city and was the highest building despite it only being two s
tories tall. Other buildings thronged the magnificent structure and they sloped away in all directions. They had been painted hues of cream and white and they were all topped with terracotta, imported from far off nations that were beyond the knowledge and comprehension of the average citizen. Unlike other cities, Kalvinth had no curtain wall to protect it, instead relying upon the natural geography of the terrain to funnel attackers into a killing zone that its small but capable army could easily handle.

  King Fazhrae turned his back on the picturesque view and returned to his private study. He secretly loathed the status that came from being the sovereign and as such, directed his energies in making a difference to his subjects. Various reports and letters of correspondence had been laid out, ready for the King to peruse at his leisure. King Fazhrae sighed and took a seat by an elegantly carved oak desk and set about the work of reading his way through affairs of state. The morning passed quickly and soon he had managed to wade through the pile, mentally sorting them into different categories based on importance and urgency. As King Fazhrae finished his work he heard a shuffling coming from the other side of the door that opened out into the adjoining corridor.

  “Just place my breakfast on the table please,” Fazhrae bellowed towards the closed door.

  The Sovereign shifted in his seat as no answer came and his suspicions were aroused instantly. He called out again and still no answer came. Fazhrae swiftly stood up and yanked a drawer open before picking up a dagger. The King quickly placed his back against the wall beside the door and held the dagger aloft as he inched closer and closer, his fingertips reaching out for the door handle when he suddenly noticed it wobble slightly. King Fazhrae backed away and raised the weapon higher as the handle dropped and the door was slowly pushed open.

  A figure poked its head through and the man who came into view had a wicked scar on his right cheek and cruel eyes. Abruptly Fazhrae brought the dagger down viciously and the weapon was driven into the unknown man’s shoulder. The intruder let out a scream as he jerked away. The King however kept a firm grip on the dagger and it twisted as the unwelcome guest tried to wrench himself free. This caused a spasm of pain to surge down his arm and he shouted furiously as he balled to the fist and struck Fazhrae in the face. The sudden blow dropped Ljarthaal’s King to the floor and his assailant drew a stiletto and sneered at his target. He crept forwards and smiled maniacally as he raised his arm to deliver the killing blow. The King’s survival instinct kicked in and he suddenly raised a boot and caught the intruder squarely between the legs, the intruder sagging to his knees as pain overcame him.