Savage Messiah dobas-1

by Robert Newcomb

Faegan's return glare was as cold as ice.

  "You're wrong, Corporeal," he growled. "I was never a member of the Directorate. I suffer no such restriction. Your comrades have conspired in the murders of two people I loved very much. If you wish to see another day, I suggest you cooperate."

  Stunned, Abbey looked over at Adrian. Neither of them had ever seen the wizard so angry. Would he really kill Uther in cold blood? Abbey decided that it was time to intervene. She removed the parchment from within her robe.

  The wizard's eyes narrowed. "What's that?"

  Abbey passed it through the bars.

  "It's Uther's guide through the sandstone maze," she answered, then she and Adrian explained how they had induced him to draw it for them.

  Faegan unrolled the map and examined it, then looked back at the women.

  "Well done," he said. "But how do we know it's valid? He may be trying to trick us."

  "We believe it to be accurate," Adrian answered. "But we think it best that you enter Uther's mind, just to be sure."

  Faegan nodded. He looked at the two warriors still dangling Uther in the air. "Hold him tightly," he ordered.

  Ottikar gave the other warrior a nod and they put a bit more distance between them, tightening the stretch on Uther's arms. The Valrenkian winced.

  "Good," Faegan said. He closed his eyes.

  Smiling, Adrian and Abbey waited. Any moment now the Valrenkian's head would snap back and his eyes would widen. And then they would have their answer.

  But as the moments went by the women began to wonder, and then to worry. Uther seemed completely unaffected. No azure glow appeared around him, and he continued to smile wickedly at the wizard. Abbey and Adrian turned to each other with concern. Then they looked back at Faegan.

  Beads of sweat had broken out along on the wizard's brow, and his face clearly showed signs of strain. Finally he let out a long breath and he opened his eyes. Had he given up?

  "What's wrong?" Adrian asked.

  "I am able to call the spell, but not to use it upon him," Faegan answered.

  The women were stunned. "But how can that be?" Abbey asked. "His powers don't begin to rival yours!"

  Thinking to himself, Faegan rubbed his face with his hands.

  "The two of you must have inadvertently made him immune to the particular set of calculations required to deeply enter his mind," he answered at last.

  "How could that be?" Adrian asked.

  "Tell me more about this serum that you made," he said to Abbey.

  "Did you use laurel seed?"

  Abbey nodded.

  "And mandrake?"

  "Of course. You're an expert herbmaster. You know the formula as well as I. I had to recall it from memory, but I think I got it right. It calls for both of those herbs, plus several more."

  "It's not your fault-neither of you," Faegan said. He shook his head.

  "What you didn't know is that when laurel and mandrake are mixed for this purpose, they must never be enhanced with an additional spell of the mind. To do so inures the subject against further such intrusions for all time. Adrian couldn't have known, because she has little or no knowledge of herbmastery. And Abbey, you didn't know because you are unfamiliar with spells that your partial blood signature lacks the power to employ. Only a full wizard or sorceress who was also an herbmaster would know this. You both have much left to learn, but I commend you for trying."

  "I'm sorry," Abbey said.

  "Don't be," Faegan answered. "You did what you thought best." He trained his gaze back upon the Valrenkian.

  "You knew, didn't you?" he asked.

  Uther grinned. "Of course, you old fool! I knew what was going on the moment I saw the beaker of green fluid in your herbmistress' hands. They obviously needed information, and any herbalist worth his salt knows that the formula for the serum contains both mandrake and laurel. You know as well as I that it's the laurel that gives the solution its distinctive color. And why else would a Sister of the Redoubt be there, too, unless it was to help augment the serum with a spell? I was fully aware of how this combination would inure me. Your servants have given me a gift that I could never have attained on my own. How ironic! I put on quite a show at the time, but I wanted this, wizard-and badly. Your women willingly gave it to me."

  Abbey's face grew hard. Her hands were balled up into fists, her knuckles white. Then she thought for a moment, and looked to Faegan.

  "Just because you can't enter his mind now, that doesn't mean that at the time of their application our efforts weren't successful, right?" she mused. "In fact, how could they not have been? For all we know, the map might well be genuine."

  Faegan nodded. "Or a complete fabrication," he warned.

  Traax stepped forward. "There's one way to find out!" he said harshly. "Leave me alone with this animal! I'll get the truth out of him!"

  Swiveling around in his chair, Faegan looked at Traax. He knew that the warrior meant well, but he obviously hadn't thought his plan through.

  "Don't you see?" the wizard asked softly. "That won't do any good."

  "And just why not?" Traax demanded. He glared hatefully up through the stone bars at Uther. "Just give me the chance. We Minions have many ways of being persuasive, I assure you."

  "Oh, I'm quite sure that you do," Faegan answered. "And I can think of nothing just now that would give me greater pleasure. But tell me, no matter how he answers, how will you know-really know-it's the truth?"

  Traax scowled. "I see your point." He sighed. "But surely there must be something we can do."

  "There is," Abbey said.

  Faegan smiled, for he already knew the answer. "Tell us."

  "We fly around to the entrance, and we force Uther to lead us through," she answered. She looked over at Sister Adrian. "That was the other reason I brought him-in case all else failed."

  "Well done," Faegan said. He looked at Traax again.

  "I think we have no choice but to accept those volunteers of yours," he said. "They will, of course, have to come from the other side of the lattice. Limit their number to two. Uther is unable to use the craft, so only physical restraint is needed. I will keep the map with me. Tell your volunteers to make a mark on the wall at every turn." Then he grinned at the Valrenkian.

  "What say you, Uther?" he asked sarcastically. "Are you game for a little walk?"

  Seething, the Valrenkian snarled something under his breath. The wizard only smiled.

  "I'll take that as a yes," he said.

  He turned back to Abbey and Adrian. "Ask for two Minion volunteers from your side of the lattice," he ordered. "Once you have sent them in with Uther, come to the top of the bluffs near the maze opening on our side. We will meet you there, to wait and watch. Then it will be out of our hands."

  As Abbey's group started to soar away, the wizard lowered his chair to the ground. Duvessa, Traax, and Ox walked over. Duvessa placed one hand upon the old wizard's shoulder.

  "Is this really going to work?" she asked.

  Faegan sighed. "It has to," he answered. "Because if it doesn't we're going to be here for a very long time."

  As a group, the warriors and the wizard headed for the dark, square-cut portal in the bluffs.

  CHAPTER LV

  "Are you quite sure you wish…to go alone?" Alrik asked. Trying to steady himself, he placed a meaty hand against the wall. Screwing up his face, he blinked. It was all he could do to remain standing. He let go a wet belch, then wiped his mouth with the back of one hand. Despite the fact that he had just been rude in the presence of the First Wizard, he laughed a little-something he would have never done had he been sober.

  Wigg couldn't be angry with him. The impromptu feast that had been arranged in celebration of Tristan and Celeste's marriage had gone on for hours, and every Minion and Gallipolai stationed in and around the Recluse had gladly attended. Alrik had given a drunken toast that seemed to go on forever.

  Tristan, Celeste, Wigg, and Jessamay had sat at the table of honor, and gifts h
ad been presented to the bride and groom. For a time, at least, the dancing, drinking, and feasting had provided a welcome respite from their troubles. It was now nearly midnight, and everyone was asleep save for Wigg, Alrik, and a complement of patrolling-and sober-warriors.

  "Don't worry, I'll be fine," Wigg answered. "I see you brought what I asked for."

  Alrik nodded. After fumbling about, he clumsily produced the empty canteen. He put its strap around Wigg's neck, then smiled stupidly again. Another fragrant belch followed. Wigg winced.

  "I can't understand why you want to go back down there alone, Wirst Fizard," he said numbly. "And with an empty canteen, of all things."

  Wigg gave him a wink. "Wirst Fizard's business," he said. "I should be back before the Jin'Sai and his new bride awaken. If anyone asks, tell them the truth-that I went for a walk. When I return, the three of us will need an escort back to Master Faegan's portal. We must arrive there by high noon, when it is due to open."

  Alrik tried to click his heels, but almost fell down. Clutching at Wigg's robe, he did his best to straighten up. His breath was awful. Wigg averted his face.

  "I live to serve," Alrik said.

  Turning awkwardly, the warrior walked back down the hall. The wizard smiled as he heard Alrik begin to belt out yet another Minion drinking song. The singing soon faded away.

  Wigg pointed one hand toward the dark passageway and brought the radiance stones to light. Then he reached under his robe to make sure that the rolled-up parchment was still there.

  He was tired, and the walk down and back would be a long one. He didn't relish going but knew it had to be done. The idea had come to him during the celebration. He wanted to take something of this place back to Eutracia with him, something that he thought would be of help-especially if things were about to become as serious as he feared. Taking a deep breath, he started down.

  He was very pleased that Tristan and Celeste had married. But his heart was troubled over his daughter's worsening condition. He could see the changes rapidly taking place, and it was breaking his heart.

  He had much to worry him. Jessamay had told him all she knew about the Well of Forestallments, but it wasn't much. The two of them had pored over parts of Failee's grimoire to learn the secret of Jessamay's altered blood signature, an aberration they were sure was of immense importance to the craft. And in his heart he was equally sure that the Orb of the Vigors continued its rampage across Eutracia. He could only hope that Faegan and the other members of the Conclave were having a better time of things.

  He shook his head. It was all such a great riddle-the craft, Eutracia, Parthalon, the two orbs, and most certainly the possibility of Wulfgar's survival. Some of these puzzles were new, and some far, far older than he. He had already lived for more than three hundred years, been instrumental in the victory in the Sorceresses' War, and personally overseen the births of the Jin'Sai and the Jin'Saiou. Even so, sometimes he felt much more like a pawn in this amazing confluence of riddles than he did a figure of any great importance.

  He finally reached the bottom of the stairs and crossed the first room. The silence was deafening. He stopped in the second room and looked around. He was relieved to see that everything was as he hoped it would be.

  He produced the parchment and read aloud the incantation recorded on it in Old Eutracian, copied from Failee's grimoire.

  A haunting azure cloud began to form in the air before him. When he finished the recitation, he rolled up the parchment and put it away.

  Closing his eyes for a moment, the First Wizard took a deep breath. This would have to be done very carefully. He removed the canteen from around his neck.

  The cloud beside him, Wigg set about his work.

  CHAPTER LVI

  "Bind his hands," Abbey ordered. "we can't afford to trust him."

  She looked respectfully at the two Minion warriors who had volunteered to enter the maze with the Valrenkian. Many had stepped forward; choosing two who might well be going to their deaths in the maze had not been a pleasant task. She hadn't been around their race for long, but she knew one thing for certain: the Minion warriors-both the males and the females-were the bravest, most selfless souls she had ever encountered.

  Sister Adrian stood next to her before the entrance to the bluffs. Wall torches lit the hall into the maze, their combined glow streaming out of the square-cut entrance and into the night. The Minion phalanx that had accompanied the two women to Valrenkium stood nearby, watching, alert.

  One of the warriors bound Uther's hand behind him. The Valrenkian seethed quietly.

  When Abbey was satisfied that Uther was bound securely, she called for an unlit torch. A warrior came running with one and she handed it to the first of the volunteers.

  "The torches in the maze are supposedly enchanted to burn forever," she said, "and Uther cannot use the craft. But take this along, just in case. Do you have flint and steel?''

  The warrior nodded.

  "Then it's time to go. Faegan and your fellow troops await you on the other side. Don't forget to make a distinct mark on the wall at every turn." She gently touched each Minion on the arm. "May the Afterlife be with you both."

  The two volunteers nodded. With a dark smile, the first drew his dreggan and placed the tip against Uther's back.

  "Move," he ordered gruffly.

  But Uther turned to look at Abbey and Adrian. "Goodbye, you bitches of the Vigors," he snarled. "When we meet in the Afterlife, beware of me. I'll be waiting."

  Abbey hesitated for a moment. Uther's words were unsettling-even more, she thought, than he intended them to be-but there could be no turning back now.

  "If for any reason he refuses to do as he's told, kill him," she told the warriors.

  The one holding the dreggan nodded. Then he poked Uther in the back, and the three of them entered the maze.

  Abbey and Adrian walked to the entrance and watched the Valrenkian and the warriors grow smaller as they headed down the wide, high tunnel. When they arrived at the first intersection, Uther turned right. Nothing happened. The warrior without the sword used his dagger to mark the wall, and all three disappeared around the corner.

  Adrian looked anxiously over at the herbmistress. "Is this really going to work?" she asked.

  Abbey shook her head. "I have no idea. But it's too late to second-guess ourselves now." She cast her gaze toward the litter nearby. "Time for us to go back to Faegan," she said. Then she thought for a moment.

  "Leave a dozen warriors here," she ordered Ottikar. "If Uther should somehow come back out the way he went in, I want him intercepted."

  Ottikar clicked his heels. "As you wish," he answered.

  Abbey and Adrian got into the litter. From where they sat they could hear Ottikar relaying Abbey's orders. Twelve warriors stepped forward to guard the entrance to the maze.

  Bearers took up the litter and lifted it into the night sky. As the rest of the phalanx took flight, Ottikar led everyone back to the opposite side of the bluffs. the warrior holding the sword to Uther's back was named Agrippa; the other was Flavius. They had been following the Valrenkian for nearly an hour, and so far everything had been quiet. Uther had not turned around or spoken since they had entered the tunnel, and he had successfully negotiated more than a dozen intersections. Flavius had marked the wall at each turn.

  It was deathly silent here, the only sound that of their boot heels echoing against the cold sandstone floor. The enchanted wall torches were spaced about every twenty meters and gave off a deceivingly welcoming glow. As he wondered how many more intersections might await them, Agrippa shook his head. Asking the Valrenkian would do no good, for lying was his way of life.

  As the three of them approached another intersection, Uther paused and looked around. There were seven different tunnels to choose from this time. Each branched off in a different direction, their torchlight enticing the travelers to enter.

  Uther finally made his choice and began walking down one of the tunnels. The warri
ors held their breath. Nothing happened.

  Agrippa gave Flavius a nod, and they continued on. "what's taking them so long?" Adrian asked. from her place atop the bluffs she looked down through the latticework at Faegan. "Do you think something has happened?"

  Taking a deep breath, the wizard shook his head. "I can't be sure, but I doubt it," he answered. "I think that if the craft were to strike them, it would by necessity be strong enough that we would either hear what was happening or see flashes of azure. As for how long it is taking, remember that they are walking a maze. By definition a maze takes much longer to traverse than if one were simply walking in a straight line. We must be patient."

  Faegan rubbed his face with both hands. He was trying his best not to show it, but he was worried. If the Valrenkian failed them in negotiating the maze, how could the accuracy of his map be trusted?

  It was nearly midnight, and the cloudless sky was filled with countless tiny stars. Other than when someone spoke, the only sounds were the calls of the various night creatures. Faegan found the stillness and the waiting frustrating.

  Shifting in his chair, he sighed and looked up at Duvessa. Smiling as best she could, she placed one hand upon the ancient wizard's shoulder. Flavius and Agrippa walked side by side behind uther. Agrippa still held his sword, while Flavius clutched his dagger and the unlit torch. Two more hours had passed, during which Uther had successfully navigated at least eighteen more intersections. Since they had entered the maze, he had neither turned around, nor spoken to them. At every turn, Flavius had dutifully marked the walls.

  Every new tunnel looked just like the last. Of course they do, Agrippa thought. They were meant to. This worthless bastard could be leading us in circles, for all we know.

  Another intersection loomed up ahead; it looked to be the largest one yet. When they reached it, they saw that fifteen separate tunnels led away from it. Where the other intersections had been confusing, this one was totally overwhelming.

  Uther turned to face them. He had the same haughty look on his face that he had given Adrian and Abbey. Ever alert, Agrippa widened his stance and raised the tip of his sword.