The Blood of Kings (Book 4)

by Robert E. Keller

  Vesselin knelt before his god. Jaspar laid Cordus Landsaver before the Divine Essence, and then he knelt as well. The moments crept by. Vesselin marveled at the joy and optimism he felt in the Divine Essence's presence--even knowing that Dremlock had fallen to its enemies. He could have remained there forever basking in that glow and totally at peace. The passage of time meant nothing.

  But there was still work to be done for Vesselin, and Cordus had been laid to rest before his god. It was time to leave.

  Vesselin started to rise on shaky legs, when a voice in his mind commanded him to remain. The Divine Essence was speaking to him, reassuring him that his decision to surrender was the correct one. It told him that the hope for Dremlock and Gallamerth itself lay with the Flamestones--the parts of its body that represented the Mind, the Will, the Heart, the Hand, and the Blood--and that only the Black Flamestone should be feared. He was told that the other stones could be used safely if great care was taken--but that if grave mistakes were made the results could be catastrophic. It told Vesselin to live up to his name of Hopebringer and keep hope alive for others in this time to crises. He was, after all, still the acting Lord Knight and they would look to him for leadership. The Divine Essence also praised Vesselin for his decades of healing service and fondness for peace and said that Vesselin had brought much comfort to those in need.

  Vesselin was informed that Cordus Landsaver would be cared for and protected and would have no need of food or drink--and that bringing the Lord Knight to the Divine Essence was a wise decision that no one should question. It found Vesselin innocent of all the accusations he might endure.

  Vesselin's gaze was drawn deep into the three crystals. The shimmering, colored reflections in the chamber danced before his eyes, and deeper answers were revealed. The Divine Essence shared some of its secrets with Vesselin. This child god harbored tremendous knowledge but lacked the ability to communicate it, leaving it frustrated in its dealings with mortals. It was a divine being caught in a frightening earthly snare, forced to rely entirely upon its servants. It was a vulnerable creature that could be enslaved or even made to serve evil.

  Then the Divine Essence went silent, the light and aura dying down some, and Vesselin was left wondering why he'd been given this knowledge. He was greatly disturbed by the revelation that his god could be enslaved. He felt the full weight of the peril the land was facing--especially now that Dremlock had fallen.

  Vesselin rose, and noticed that Jaspar was still on his knees and looking dazed. Vesselin shook him. "Come, my friend. Our task here is done."

  They left the chamber and moved off down the tunnel.

  "I think I was asleep and dreaming," said Jaspar, his eyes wide. "I was shown flaws in some of the Dwarven designs...our machines. These are things the Olrogs have pondered for centuries. I believe it shared this knowledge simply out of good will. Our god is a great thinker, Vesselin!"

  Vesselin nodded. "The greatest Mind in all the land. And that is why it must live on and remain free. Somehow..."

  "Yet it is no longer free," said Jaspar, his face darkening. "Why couldn't it tell us what to do to defeat Bellis? Surely it must have the answer."

  "It might have the answer," said Vesselin, "but it is not an answer we would understand. It cannot easily communicate with us. Some of its thoughts are too extraordinary for our minds to comprehend."

  "What about the Birlote Wizards?" said Jaspar. "They understand things on a higher level. Perhaps they could communicate with it."

  "They would never come here," said Vesselin, "even if Bellis wasn't in control. They prefer to remain in Borenthia. Also, our god will not speak to them--and with good reason. I understand it now."

  "What is that reason?" asked Jaspar.

  Vesselin sighed. "Because, like the Dark Watchmen of old, they are too dangerous. The Dark Watchmen tried to kill the Divine Essence. They believed they had reached a level that would allow for victory, but they miscalculated. Yes, there are some mortals so powerful that even our god is not safe from them."

  "Like King Verlamer," said Jaspar.

  Vesselin nodded. "From the Mad King of Bellis, no one is safe--not man, beast, or..." He couldn't bring himself to finish that statement and admit that his shattered god was in great danger.

  ***

  It wasn't over yet for Fadar Stonebow, for he awakened in a dim dungeon with a wretched headache. He didn't know exactly how long he'd been unconscious, but he suspected it had been at least several hours. The dungeon's design had the look of Dremlock Kingdom--which meant Bellis had claimed at least one of the towers. This did not come as a shock to Fadar, for once Bellis' warriors had gotten through Darkender Tunnel, King Verlamer's victory had been almost certain.

  Fadar probed his head wound. He had a gash and a lump, crusted with dried blood, but it didn't seem to be anything a bit of healing meditation wouldn't fix. He worked on healing himself as he waited for answers.

  At last a guard stepped in front of the cell bars--a blond, muscular fellow wearing chain mail that displayed the Crest of Bellis. He carried a gleaming battle axe in one hand. He had fanatical blue eyes set in a strikingly handsome face that was half bathed in crimson from torchlight. He pressed his face against the bars and grinned at Fadar. "Welcome back. Did you have a good sleep?"

  Fadar shrugged. "I missed the battle's end."

  "I'll fill you in," said the guard, his grin broadening. "Your Knights were beaten back, and we took control as expected. End of story."

  "So it is over," said Fadar. "Dremlock has lost the war." Even as he spoke the words, he could barely believe them.

  "You didn't just lose the war," said the guard, "but you lost by surrender. Your Lord Knight Vesselin Hopebringer gave the order." The guard laughed. "I guess he wasn't fond of all the bodies piling up around the kingdom--all those precious Divine Knights lying dead in the dirt. He really had no choice, you know. You were vastly outnumbered, and thousands more of our warriors were on the way. It's really amazing that Dremlock lasted this long."

  "Where is Krissana Windsword?" asked Fadar. "She was with me atop the wall, when...that fireball..." He sighed. He wondered if the guard even knew what he was talking about. Regardless, he felt so defeated he wanted to sink through the floor. He almost wished he'd never awakened. Legendary Dremlock was now just another slave kingdom of Bellis. King Verlamer now owned all of the Norack kingdoms. Only the Dwarves and Birlotes remained independent, but for how long?

  "She's dead," said the guard. "Probably better off." He laughed. "You didn't get so lucky, my sad friend."

  Fadar groaned. He didn't know for sure if the guard was telling the truth, but he sensed no obvious deception. The pain in his heart told him Krissana probably was gone. For a moment, he stood quietly in despair.

  Then a light of hope sprang into Fadar's mind. Prince Vannas and the White Flamestone were still out there somewhere--along with an army of Knights led by Taris Warhawk. All was not lost.

  The guard seemed to sense his thoughts. "I'm guessing you haven't surrendered. Birlotes aren't known for that. You're probably thinking your beloved prince is going to come and save you with his magical stone. Right?" He glanced slyly at Fadar. "Well, am I right? Anyway, it's not going to happen. Taris Warhawk's army has been reduced to practically nothing. If he brings the prince anywhere near Dremlock then both of those Birlotes are doomed. He would be wise to just stay away."

  "He will come," said Fadar. "And there will be bloodshed."

  The guard shrugged, and his eyes burned with emotion. "It won't matter. We have our god and our king with us. Both have come to Dremlock to ensure that the kingdom remains in possession of Bellis. And so we cannot possibly be defeated. Taris is weakened by injuries, his battalion is wiped out, and the prince wouldn't even know how to begin trying to take back this kingdom on his own. It would be a suicide mission. And who else is there to save Dremlock? The Birlotes? They already sent their best, and those warriors are dead or in dungeons. There is no one coming t
o save you, my friend. Accept it."

  "What do you want from me?" asked Fadar. Had the guard simply come to torment him with words?

  "Right now I'm just bored," said the guard. "I've got some time to chat. Actually, I'm not yet sure what will be done with you. I'm guessing you will be asked to swear allegiance to Bellis, and if you don't do so, you will spend all your remaining days in a dungeon like this one with only the rats for company."

  "Why am I alone?" asked Fadar. "Surely the dungeons must be full of Divine Knights."

  "King Verlamer wanted to isolate you," the guard replied. "This is his private dungeon, below the North Tower. He wants to speak to you personally, when he gets the chance. You are a Knight of considerable importance, obviously. Consider it a great honor that you will get to meet the King of Gallamerth."

  "The King of Gallamerth," Fadar mumbled, the words bitter on his tongue. There was truth in the statement, for Verlamer practically ruled the entire continent.

  "That's right," said the guard, grinning broadly. "And soon to be King of the Birlotes."

  "Never!" Fadar growled, before he could stop himself. He knew it was pointless to argue with this young, arrogant warrior.

  The guard laughed and slapped the bars. "That's the spirit! But you're quite wrong. Borenthia will fall soon enough. You'll understand when you meet our king. He's not like your weak old Lord Knight. Or king is nearly a god himself, and you will be shocked when you lay eyes on him."

  "A puppet of Tharnin," Fadar said. "For where else does he get his power if not from the shadow realm?"

  The guard shook his head. His eyes were distant, filled with adoration as he prepared to speak of his king. "You are wrong. He gets his power from his bloodline, from ages past. He commands the lesser beasts of this world, including some of the Dragons. And even a powerful Birlote like you will fall on your knees before him." He lowered his voice a bit. "We have a god and a king--but if we had to make do with only one, it would be King Verlamer the ageless. He is the reason that Bellis is mighty. Can you say the same for your pathetic Lord Knight? Or even your Divine Essence, which hides below in some cave?"

  Fadar said nothing. His one hope was the White Flamestone, and all he could do was wait for it to arrive.

  "Are you hungry?" asked the guard. "Meat and potatoes, if you want. By then maybe the king will stop by for his visit. Or it could be days before he does. Who knows?"

  "I'll take some food," said Fadar, knowing he needed to keep up his strength. Taris and Prince Vannas would be counting on those were still alive and imprisoned to help liberate the kingdom.

  After the meal, the guard vanished for a while, leaving Fadar alone for several hours. During that time, he began to despair that Dremlock would never be free again. Bellis was simply too powerful. It had thrown a relatively small army against Dremlock, and undoubtedly thousands of warriors were still on the way. How could less than a thousand Knights ever secure their freedom against such massive numbers, even with the power of the Divine Essence on their side? Fadar knew the only real hope for Dremlock was if the Birlotes, the Olrogs, and the Divine Knights fought together as one. But the Tree Dwellers and Grey Dwarves were reluctant to get fully involved in a war they viewed as Norack business, and that attitude was unlikely to change even with the fall of Dremlock.

  Fadar sat in the corner with his head bowed, utterly miserable. He didn't expect to actually meet King Verlamer, for surely the tyrant was too busy dealing with his new kingdom to bother with one archer. Fadar wondered how many great Knights had fallen. What had become of Cordus Landsaver? Would the unconscious Lord Knight be cared for under this occupation? What would become of the Divine Essence? Dremlock's god was in fact a powerful Flamestone and could protect itself by deadly force--as it once had against the Dark Watchmen who had turned against it. But the Deep Shadow was cunning and sooner or later might find a way to destroy the Divine Essence. It was a horrible fear, yet Fadar was suddenly so exhausted that nothing could keep him awake. He fell asleep and dreamt that thousands of Birlotes were marching upon Dremlock to free it, and he awoke with joy in his heart--only to realize it was a dream. He hunkered down in misery.

  The hours passed by, and he began to grow hungry again. He still had some water in a pitcher, which he sipped at occasionally. He could see and hear rats scurrying about, which puzzled him. Dremlock's dungeons were supposedly kept mostly free of rats, and he began to suspect that Bellis had released some down there just to add to the atmosphere of misery. It seemed absurd, but it also seemed like something King Verlamer was capable of. He was an eccentric tyrant known for absurdities, which meant that Fadar was now in the clutches of a madman.

  The sound of heavy footsteps reached Fadar's ears, and he rose, his eyes on the torch-lit stone hallway. When the newcomer walked into view, Fadar took a step back in surprise. Facing him was the huge man with the horn and the helm shaped like the head of a golden bull--the supposed god of Bellis. He stood leaning on his enormous battle axe, gazing down at the Birlote archer.

  "You again," said Fadar, his gaze unwavering. "Bellis' god. Or perhaps some sorcerer cloaked in steel who seeks to deceive."

  The golden warrior raised the great horn to his mouth and shouted, "You dare to doubt me, young fool?"

  The blast of sound was so loud the whole cell seemed to shake. Fadar, however, continued to stand like a statue.

  With a chuckle, the golden warrior lowered the horn and spoke at a more bearable volume. "You're a wise one, Birlote. And truly an amazing archer. You put an arrow right through my eye. That got my attention. Since you survived my fireball, which was hurled in anger, I've come to realize you would be an asset to Bellis. You are also well respected amongst the Birlotes, and with Krissana Windsword dead, I'm thinking we could use your services."

  "So Krissana is actually dead," Fadar mumbled, gripped by great sorrow. For some reason, he was certain the golden warrior spoke the truth.

  "She died saving you, Fadar Stonebow," said the warrior. "She had just enough time to push you from the wall, but she was not quick enough with her own leap. The flames caught her in the air and burned her to ash. I actually regret killing her. She was very talented and knew much about the ways of Dremlock."

  "I wish she had saved herself instead," said Fadar.

  "Of course," said the warrior, laughing. "You're a Birlote and noble to the core. But she made the choice to sacrifice herself for you, and that tells me something about you. You are a special fighter."

  "This is pointless," said Fadar. "You know I will never willingly join your side, so why bother? As you said, I am a noble Birlote. We don't join forces with evil under any circumstances."

  The warrior shook his head. "Typical Birlote arrogance--to think you're superior to the other races. But you have a point. Birlotes are not easily swayed to evil. But you can be made to serve unwillingly."

  Fadar didn't reply, waiting to hear more.

  "I am the god of Bellis," said the warrior. "The whole kingdom is terrified of me. They fear the judgment of my axe. If I say something is possible, then rest assured that it is. I do not speak in vain."

  "All gods are nothing but sorcerers," said Fadar, "except for the Great Light above Stormy Mountain who blessed the land with his creation the Divine Essence. You are a false god--a fake. I do not respect you as a true deity."

  "A fake?" said the golden warrior. "It matters not. The value of a god is determined by his power--and I hold power over your precious Divine Essence. Meanwhile, your Great Light sleeps and does not interfere with the affairs of Gallamerth. And there is a god more powerful than your Great Light, a god known as the Beast of Tharnin. It bears one eye and six heads--five of which are blind to your suffering." He threw back his head and laughed. "But does the Great Beast interfere? No. It too sleeps and allows its children fight all the battles. It has no choice. This is all a war for power, left in the hands of mortals. And I am the ultimate power on Gallamerth. So yes, I am indeed a god. So give me the respect I de
serve, Birlote, before I take your foolish head."

  "I don't fear you," said Fadar. "Kill me if you must. I will die serving my god, and my spirit will find peace in another realm."

  The bull face pressed against the bars with a clank of metal. The crazed eyes beneath the mask smoldered with a violet hue. "An execution would be too easy for Birlote filth like you. Instead, you will have your mind subdued by a man who is just as powerful as any god--a man who bears the Blood of Kings. You will soon meet someone who will strike terror in your heart, because this is no ordinary man. Even sorcerers bow in his presence. I speak of King Verlamer. It is time for you to meet him. I must become invisible now--as gods tend to do. I will be watching from the shadows, away from prying eyes. Have a pleasant day!"

  With that, the god of Bellis moved off down the hallway and then his footsteps fell silent. Fadar leaned against the bars and closed his eyes, hating what things had come to. The golden warrior had been so arrogant and confident that Fadar sank deeper into despair. He prayed to the Divine Essence that Taris and Prince Vannas would arrive soon and end the madness.

  But the madness was just beginning.

  Another figure approached the cell bars--and this time it was King Verlamer. The crimson torchlight revealed a pale, somber, bearded face and two dark, insane eyes. The king was a giant--standing over seven feet tall and wearing a crimson cape over his green robe. His only weapon was a long, jeweled dagger at his hip. He was built like Jace the Wanderer, with broad shoulders and huge bony hands that were wrapped around the cell bars. There was something terrifying and imposing about the King of Bellis that immediately put Fadar on edge. Fadar had not feared Bellis' god, but he found himself fearing the depths of this man's power and insanity.

  "Fadar Stonebow," said King Verlamer. "Glad I could finally meet you. And how are you getting along? Have you been fed?"

  When Fadar didn't answer, the king continued, "Come with me, then. We are holding a meeting in the North Tower courtyard to discuss the fate of this kingdom. I'm sure your input would be most welcome." With that, King Verlamer unlocked the cell and stepped back, motioning.