Book 2 Dead Man's Hand: The Knights of the Golden Dragon

by Troy Reaves

  “What is the worst that could happen?” Boremac stated this lightly enough but he did not bother to hide the worry that colored his features as he faced Dena, thankful that Rinoba could not see his face. He whispered his next words directly to the sister, counting on her discretion not to embarrass him. “Seriously, sister, what is the worst that could happen?”

  Dena whispered back, her lips barely moving. She could have performed the theives’ cant, a secret silent language with hand signals and slight lip movements, like a professional with very little training. “You light one of the candles with the mage fire like I showed Rinoba before, only one, and that will link you to the ritual without enveloping you in it. That is my duty. Do you remember the word that will bring the flame?” She smiled as she finished speaking.

  Boremac found himself answering with a grin, despite his trepidation. “It is ‘incendera’, correct?”

  “Boremac, you are a quick study. Excellent! You will want to sit back a bit before I light the last candle.” Dena raised her voice to include Rinoba, giving the prince one last offer to join them. “Rinoba, you should be safe over there, though in having your blood act as a catalyst, there may be some unforeseeable effects. I am sure it will not amount to anything I can not readily correct, or heal, once the ritual is complete. I recommend staying nearby.” Dena shot a quick wink at Boremac as Rinoba’s brow knitted in obvious consternation.

  Dena sat with her legs crossed facing the bowl and skull, murmuring quietly what Boremac assumed was a prayer. She motioned for him to light one of the candles, waiting quietly for him to summon the soft flame at the tip of his finger and complete his part, before doing the same. As each candle flickered, the burning wicks gave off a steadily brighter and taller bluish flame that shaded more toward indigo as each candle was lit. Boremac found it odd that the bright flames did not force him to close his eyes against them. The steady light given off was hypnotic, and Dena broke his concentration as she pointed toward the stronghold before lighting the last wick. What happened next was a shock to them all.

  As Dena ignited the last wick, several things happened at once. The flames elongated until they reached well beyond the sparse clouds above the twilight pushing away the sun of the day. It seemed there was good reason for the flaming bars as a tall regal figure began to coalesce within their confinement. Pure rage coursed through Boremac as the figure solidified enough to try and reach toward where Rinoba lay in obvious pain, still clutching the King’s crown despite spasms that tossed him from side to side. Boremac found he was faring somewhat better than the prince, for all appearances. The King’s rage over the loss of his crown and the violation of his stronghold held for only a second, giving way to innumerable thoughts, memories and long past events flashing through Boremac’s mind faster than he would have thought possible to experience, let alone recall. He was wrong. Intimate exchanges, dying thoughts, idle distractions and deep seated fears of the dead within the castle flooded him in a continuous stream as the entire stronghold was infused with the flames of the King’s soul prison. As Boremac watched, thousands of glowing wisps flew into the ever darkening sky, brightening the darkness with a world of shooting stars. Boremac found he could not look away, even more he felt he did not want to look away. The souls deserved to be witnessed. After what seemed like forever, the King was forced to release his hold over his ethereal form and roared inhumanly as his spirit was drawn upward within the indigo flames that formed its prison. The light of the apparition drained away, growing dimmer until finally there was nothing but darkness. One last wisp followed the dead King into the sky, trailing a faint light across the void created by the King’s passing. Boremac suddenly was a small boy, kneeling near a grave marked with dates that indicated the death of one much too young for the earth to accept. Tears ran down his face as he stared at the marker and a voice that was not his own rang in his head, colored with sorrow and regret. “I will avenge you, sister.” Then it was over and Boremac tipped forward, just barely able to keep from falling. Dena had closed her eyes tightly at some point and dug furrows with both her hands at her sides deep in the ground. Thankfully Rinoba appeared to have stopped twitching without breaking anything. Boremac did not think Dena would be in any shape to do much for the prince after what she must have suffered, judging by Boremac’s own experience.

  Boremac did not know what he expected to happen next but it was definitely not what Dena did. “Well, that was exhilarating!” The sister took a moment to clean the dirt from her hands before jumping up and looking at Rinoba and Boremac, checking for any outward ill effects. “I cannot say I will be doing anything of that magnitude for the near future but it was a rather complete history lesson about the stronghold, the King, and the state of the lands all in one. Time well spent. I will be chronicling, and correcting the history of the time of his reign for quite a while. Everyone manage?”

  Boremac nodded slowly, still processing the images his mind had retained. Rinoba was more than happy to fill the silence with myriad complaints. “A warning would have been great. Damned, any warning would have been great! Every part of my body feels as though it was thoroughly trampled by horses before the cattle stampede started running over me!”

  Dena shook her head as she moved to Rinoba’s side, the channeling light already suffusing her hands as she knelt. “Yes, well, sorry about that. The old texts are a bit unclear on the details of such cleansing rituals. No one has ever taken on such a massive one to my knowledge, at least not alone. The two of you were indispensable, I can assure you. Had the King interfered with me instead of you, Rinoba, we might have been looking at a full possession. He was not at all happy about being disturbed, let alone having his spirit bound. I could not have known he had possessed a soul stone before he died, although it does explain a lot. I did not see the stone near the throne. Curious. Good thing I knew his true name or this could have gone very badly. Master Alexan, bastard son of the last true King that ruled, and wicked bastard. He murdered the acknowledged heir, or had her killed at least, while her father lay on his death bed. She would have changed the lands for the better if she had come to power. The corrupt Lords of the land had little problem with helping Alexan seize the throne, claiming his rights by blood and summarily killing all the Lords in order to consolidate his power and seize their lands. So much to tell.” Dena stood after loosening Rinoba’s muscles with her healing. “The headache will have to pass in time, as will the invasion of the King into your mind. You probably will not forget, but the dreams do stop. I am sure he was not just a power mad bastard. Certainly there will be some dreams you sleep through until they pass.” Dena waved off Boremac and Rinoba as she started down the path she had recently taken to the lake. “Thank you both for your help. If I may serve you in the future, stop by the Temple and make an inquiry. God of Light bless you both.” She disappeared under the trees into the deep shadows of the impending night moments later without another word.

  Rinoba recovered from the King’s assault more quickly than Boremac had expected and the pair made their own way to the road. Boremac prodded Rinoba about his experience with the King during the ritual, but the Prince was less than forthcoming. The way he kept rubbing his skull and maintaining his silence made it easy to think he was trying to force the memories to the back of his mind.

  Boremac understood. He was still grappling with the experience himself and having little success puzzling out what exactly he had felt. He hoped there were no spirits bouncing around in his own head, looking for a place to roost. The image that the thought brought with it brought a smile to Boremac’s face despite the dire musings. Thousands of ghostly chickens scampered around some barely perceptible barnyard, all looking for the best spot to make a nest. He was just glad the fowl were not digging for grubs at least. That might have been painful. That last thought made him laugh out loud, causing Rinoboa to stop and turn to face him.

  “What is so funny, Boremac?” Rinoba’s features were pale, practically glowing in the
twilight beneath the trees that created a canopy above them. He looked like a ghost himself. “Wait, I get it. You find some sick amusement in the idea that I was almost possessed by a cruel, power mad King. You would have not had time to enjoy the humor created by that situation for long, had he succeeded. If I had not been so busy convulsing and if the spirit had reached in just a little deeper, you and the sister both would have been put to the sword, or at least you would have. He had special plans for the sister, plans that even now tear at my heart to even consider. He was so much more the animal than anyone ever thought. The histories and tales do not do him justice. I think demons would have bowed before him to honor him.”

  “Forgive me, Rinnoba. I had no idea.” Boremac started to speak more but the words became dust on his tongue with the hard look Rinoba gave him.

  “Pray, Boremac. Pray you never do. I would not wish what I suffered under his will on even my worst enemy.” Rinoba turned away abruptly and continued down the rough path with Boremac taking up pace dutifully at his heel. Boremac found he pitied the Prince for the first time since he had known him. He prayed silently, not for himself but for Rinoba, hoping even an attempt at imploring the God of Light from the likes of himself might lessen Rinoba’s pain.

  Rinoba broke the silent march after a while with a thought that must have been with him for quite some time. “The Death bringer mentioned the King had possessed a soul stone. What do you know of them, Boremac?”

  “Probably about as much as you, which means just a little more than most common people. I had the chance to study some in my younger years. Not all my lessons were sneaky ones.” Boremac laughed, thinking about George for a moment and just as quickly grew sad. He missed his old tutor and even though they were in ready walking distance in Travelflor, he and the Archivist were worlds apart now. The last he had heard from his old friend was a letter of congratulations he found under the pillow in his quarters at the theives’ guild. George had written that he wished him health and luck in equal measure and was glad to see Boremac had made it into Alchendia’s Path. George had not mentioned the ring that had brought them together so long ago, but the appearance of the note and George’s ability to get in past the guards in the guild house left only one of two explanations. George had some connections in Alchendia’s Path or, what seemed more likely, he had some luck deciphering the ring of invisibility. That could be very useful. Boremac thought maybe it would be a good time to visit George after all. “The stones are made in mystic forges fueled with mage fire which is said to be the only thing that can shape them. The metal fell to the lands in a great storm of blazing stars tracing across the heavens. Those who first came upon it were incinerated by the heat the massive fallen stars had generated, even the craters surrounding them were deadly for days after the stars landed.”

  Rinoba continued walking toward the edge of the forest, still some ways off. Night had fallen and this seemed as good a time for ghost stories as any, even those shaped from legend. “Yes, the Knights of the Golden Dragon were moved to form an expedition with the Council of Sorcerers, each with their own agenda. The knights were concerned the star stones, or Elenondo as they came to be known, might hold dark forces. The sorcerers were simply curious and more than willing to lend their aid, of course.” Rinoba’s tone was tainted with the sarcasm his words implied.

  “The sorcerers did manage to cool one of the giant boulders. Together the knights and the sorcerers gathered all the smaller pieces that had broken away when the star impacted.” Boremac continued, filling in where Rinoba had left off. “Each went their own way, swearing an oath to share any information they could discover about the stones, which the knights did. The secretive magi were not quite as forthcoming.”

  “True to their nature, Boremac, the sorcerers do not share their secrets, but the knights were bound by honor, and hoped the sorcerers would abide by their word in this case as well. All for the greater good.” Rinoba laughed at the statement, shaking his head. “The knights were fools.”

  “What could you expect from a group who took their name from facing a rogue golden dragon?” Boremac replied. “It would have been smarter to feed a maiden to the beast once a year, I think. They lost so many good warriors in that effort and, though I do not have a love of warriors and am particularly fond of maidens, that poor honor guard definitely came out on the wrong side of the deal there.” Boremac halted for a moment, listening to the sounds of the wood creatures. “Rinoba, maybe we should consider making a fire and continuing in the morning.”

  “You are not scared, are you?” Rinoba’s words were punctuated by the howl of a wolf, answered all too quickly for Boremac’s liking from the opposite side of the thieves, or so it seemed. “We will be at the road soon. Would you like me to sing a merry tune to cheer you, Boremac? I have been told I have a lovely voice, coward.”

  Rinoba’s words spurred Boremac forward as intended. There was no way he was going to let this pompous Prince get the better of him. Anyway, he had to admit, at least to himself, that it would be better to be out of the woods and headed toward Travelflor if the wolves were hunting.

  Rinoba seamlessly transitioned back to the subject of the soul stones once they were in motion again. “Do you know what happened next in the life of the Elenondo?”

  “Rumor more than anything. Mostly due to the secrecy of both the knights and the sorcerers concerning the metal and its uses. The knights discovered the magi’s decision to ignore the sharing of information between the groups, another story itself. The written records concerning Elenondo deal more with its appearance than with how it was used. Everything I have read was secondhand information from witnesses who often contradicted one another.”

  Rinoba glanced over his shoulder, a sly bent to his features as he spoke. “Well, let me fill in the gaps in your education.” He turned down the makeshift path they had cut when they had entered the forest, continuing their journey. “The sorcerers, it is said, nearly sacrificed one of their own in their efforts to probe the secrets of Elenondo. One among them studied the stone, no more than the size of his fist, probing it magically with various incantations and alchemically with different materials until he made a breakthrough, a very painful one from what I understand. The sorcerer channeled arcane fire into the heart of the stone while he held it in his hand, which was a turning point in the understanding of the stones themselves. The sorcerer was wrapped in a great pillar of flame that should have left a pile of ash where he stood. A witness that was questioned later from the servants that were present, watched as the flaming column dissipated almost as quickly as it had formed, and the sorcerer who had attempted to manipulate the stone stood before them, naked and staring at the stone. He and the stone were completely changed. The rough black Elenondo in the sorcerer’s palm was now a perfectly clear gemstone roughly the size of an egg with a steadily flickering glow at its center, similar to a candle flame before it burns out. The sorcerer was covered in what appeared to be a thick layer of burnt skin over his entire body.”

  Boremac found too many holes in the story to believe it and said as much. “Surely tale so wild has grown well out of control with each telling. Besides even if it were true, why would the sorcerers allow a hint of what had happened to become known outside of their gathering?”

  “They did their best to conceal it. The servants, and even some of the younger initiates, are said to have instantly been caught in columns of flame, not unlike the sorcerer who had bonded with the stone. The boy who survived was hidden, uninvited and unknown. He was little more than one responsible for tending the chamber pots, although he became considerably well-known later in his life. He fled the keep of the sorcerers as soon as he was able and sought sanctuary in one of the temples of the God of Light. The boy grew into a man who never forgot what he had witnessed that day and shared it with the brothers of the temple when he performed the cleansing rite to become a brother himself.”

  “That is the most amazing pile of manure to have passed your lip
s I have ever heard, Rinoba. You will be tasting crap for a week at least after that story.” Boremac shook his head in disgust and made a gesture of wiping his ears as if trying to clear away Rinoba’s words.

  “So you doubt me?” Despite the words, Rinoba did not seem surprised. “I will not try to overcome your ignorance concerning the history of the stones. Better that you should go to Nactium and visit the temple to the God of Light there. Inquire at the archives about the brother known as Turmorival. I doubt they will allow you to see his written works but there is a tapestry of him there. You have a silver tongue that should be able to glean some information from the old archivist there. Word is he is something of a gossip anyway and, although Turmorival is a dark stain on the history of the brothers and sisters of the temple, he is a valued lesson taught to the new initiates and common people alike. One should never deal with demons.” The finality of the statement meant the subject was closed, at least as far as Rinoba was concerned. “That reminds me.”

  The strike came so suddenly, Boremac never had time to counter it. Rinoba hit him full in the forehead with a weighted coin purse that almost rendered him completely unconscious. As Boremac stumbled backward, carried by the force of the blow, he heard Rinoba taunt him as if the two were separated by a city block instead of just a step. “Now we are even.” The back of Boremac’s head impacted a tree as he stumbled blindly trying to regain his balance, beginning to force him into the unavoidable unconsciousness that he felt overtaking him. He heard Rinoba speaking in bits and pieces as the darkness came. “…Travelflor…dead…not welcome…” Boremac felt his back slide down the tree leaving him sitting askance and was almost glad when he passed out.