This is how a human reacts to seeing an elf for the first time? thought Sokomonoko, who had picked up something anomalous in the king’s general and regent. All the humans, without exception, had reacted with surprise or even fear at the sight of an elf. She had not expected any less from Leandro.
“Let me introduce Quelshún representing the Cristalur,” Sokomonoko said with an odd expression. Her eyes could see beyond flesh and bone. Seeing Leandro’s present, past, and likely future, all she could see were horrors, acts of defiance, and murders. On other occasions when she had taken note of the general, his future had been full of probabilities involving light and joy, taking pleasure in his wife and children. Something had changed, and she was not sure of what it was. Of course, a human being can change his mind and emotions in a matter of days, but the turn Leandro had taken was a drastic one.
The crystal emitted some vibrations that nobody understood.
“He says he is honored to be here with you, watching over the future of the universe,” Sokomonoko explained. The empress masked her discomfort well, but she remained silent for the rest of the meeting. She studied the others, penetrating their flesh with her gaze to check that nobody except Leandro had changed. She examined the guards and established that they too did not arouse any uneasy feelings in her.
“There is one particularly important matter which needs to be discussed today,” Leandro said. “We know the army has been infiltrated, we know the enemy has managed to plant spies inside the palace.”
“That’s why the process of vetting every single person in it has been necessary,” Gáramond explained, rubbing his big belly. The philosopher had been busy with the founding of the new academy for learning and translating foreign languages, as well as documenting the cultural and physical differences of each species. He had spent day and night talking to Lohrén with whom he had felt a kinship because of his vast and deep wisdom. The philosopher was short of sleep, but it had been worthwhile since he had learned so much about the elven culture and the ancient Times of Chaos. He found it fascinating that beings like the elves, like Lohrén, had lived through those times and had managed to flee in time.
“The process of vetting all the soldiers has been a success,” he went on. “We found two infiltrators who have now been disposed of. We can’t trust anybody these days, my friends, and we need to be very cautious about who we admit to our side. From now on, soldiers and politicians will have to prove their identity. Each one will be given a bronze medal which he or she will be required to present for identification purposes. The medals will be handed out soon. Carry them with you everywhere. They will be your means of identifying yourself.”
“Medals prove nothing,” Othus said. “Anybody can get one. Anybody can murder someone else for their medal and that’s it, he can show it anywhere, passing as somebody else. This whole business of medals is stupid.”
“He’s right,” Düll Donn agreed.
Leandro cleared his throat, shrugged, and continued, “The second very important matter is to discuss Balthazar’s death.”
“Death! It’s not possible!” Gáramond cried. The others were taken by surprise by the news. Could it be true?
“The night they tried to kill me,” Leandro said. “Balthazar appeared to Mérdmerén as a terrifying chimera. It seems that one of Mórgomiel’s demons managed to hunt him down to bury him. My friends, we’ve lost one of our most powerful allies and we must act quickly. The Council of Mages must be activated. Without Balthazar, we’re practically naked in the face of the influence of the Black Arts.”
Sokomonoko was surprised that someone like Leandro would know what had happened to Balthazar. She knew it herself thanks to her talents, but this information was known to very few. If he had suffered an attempt on his life and been wounded, how on earth had Leandro been able to see that? Something was wrong and she knew it. All the same, the general had a point: they had to act and replace the powerful shaman.
“There’s also Maggrath,” Gáramond said helpfully.
“What’s Maggrath?” the general asked.
The philosopher fell silent. How could the general not know what Maggrath was when he had been involved in the decision to create the school of magic?
“It’s—it’s a book for the youngest ones,” he lied. “To teach them about the different cultures that have migrated to the Meridian.”
Seconds went by and Leandro did not seem to notice he had been told an outright lie. The fact that he did not notice the lie was revealing and Gáramond was already coming to the same conclusion as Sokomonoko. Somehow, in some way, this Leandro was not the real one. There was something very odd about him.
The evening was falling and through the small windows that ventilated the hall and amber light was stealthily creeping in. The room was lit up with that brightness, evoking the color of flames. The room seemed to be on fire and the general’s face was blotched with the light.
Leandro slammed his fist on the table. “We need all the mages to meet with us, here and now, as soon as possible.”
“What for, general?” Düll Donn asked.
“And we’ll need your armies, and yours, and yours. Do you trust me, my friends?”
They all looked at one another. Lohrén’s eyes met Sokomonoko’s, Othus looked at Düll Donn, Haziiz Farçia at the philosopher. The rational answer was yes, but for reasons as yet unknown, they felt it was a bad decision and that they should not trust the general. It might have been his attitude. Leandro had never enjoyed being the regent, but now he seemed to be occupying the position with passion.
“My lords, we’re entering a precarious time and it’s not the moment to give way to doubt or to the joy of meeting our brothers from other planets. With the setting-up of the Council of Mages and the enlistment of the armies of all the nations, of this world and others, we’ll be mobilizing to fight Mórgomiel’s legions. You saw what happened to Háztatlon recently when my assassination was planned. With the armies at rest, we’ll achieve nothing. We need to unite and we need to march. Now! The time is now!”
They were all left speechless by this.
“March?” Othus repeated. “Where to?”
Once again the general slammed his fist on the table. “To where the Portal of the Worlds is! That’s where the enemy will come through.” He folded his arms.
“How do you know that?” Gáramond asked. Everyone waited for the answer.
“I have my sources of information, my friends, and I’m not ready to reveal them at this point. We’ve just purged the army, but we still don’t know whether there are more infiltrators.” He stared at each of them in turn, then glanced toward the double door. “They might have wormed their way into the kitchens,” he added suspiciously. “Or, there might even be one among us.”
His accusation was not well received, and of course, Othus and Düll did not react well to it.
“I beg you, my friends, colleagues, and brothers in arms! We need to gather the armies, activate the Council of Mages, and begin the march. We must muster the armies at the Portal of the Worlds to stop Mórgomiel’s attack because that’s where it will start! You have to trust me! I’ve served as a general for several years and I know what I’m talking about! When was the last time your nations fought Némaldon? Tell me! Never. Because it’s us, we people of the Mandrake Empire, who have kept Némaldon far from your borders. We’ve paid the price with the blood of our brothers while you stayed with your arms crossed, eating berries and fruits. I know what I’m talking about and it’s undeniable! I know the demons and I know they’ll attack, now, now, now!”
Leandro’s words insulted Othus and Düll once again, and now even Haziiz was offended. But he was right. No other empire had as much experience as Mandrake when it came to battling against Némaldon and its demons.
Leandro’s state of alarm was contagious but it rang false to those who had known the general since the times of his youth in the army. The only one who had known Leandro for decades was Gáramond
and he was already suspecting that something was not right. The passion, outbursts, and extremes of emotion were foreign to Leandro. The general was usually calculating and he considered everything in silence and fair measure.
“As the regent, I’m giving the order,” Leandro said. “Deploy the armies. Omen dispatched the Imperial Army after Mórgomiel’s attack. Now it’s your turn to do the same.” He jabbed his finger at each leader in turn.
“I’m afraid I won’t be able to do that until Mérdmerén returns,” Othus said defiantly. Something in all this smelt bad to him and he owed nothing to anybody, least of all the general of an empire he hated.
“If you oppose, you’ll break your ties with us. You won’t be welcome to this Committee anymore.”
“Wait a minute!” Gáramond intervened. “Leandro, what the hell do you think you’re doing? It’s not like you to start destroying allegiances without considering the consequences.” The philosopher was shaking with passion as he spoke, his hat askew.
Leandro stood up and pointed his finger at Othus. “Traitor!” he shouted. “He’s a coward!”
Othus stood up and drew a dagger. Weapons in the Committee were forbidden. They were all paralyzed at the thought that blood might be shed and also astonished that a weapon had made it into the room.
Leandro sat down and let Othus be humiliated. “I knew it. He’s the rat that managed to infiltrate us. Guards! Arrest the infiltrator!” Leandro shouted, smiling as he did so.
“Over my dead body!” cried Düll Donn. He went to stand beside Othus. “I’ve known Othus for a long time, since he was a soldier and went on to be the tyrant of Moragald’Burg, earning the post with the iron of his weapons.” The short man with the bushy beard was not carrying weapons himself, but his muscular body was menacing. “This man is anything but a rat or an infiltrator. He’d rather die than betray his people. The fact that you insulted him speaks ill of you and your people, General. I too am going to leave and I withdraw my support.”
“Another traitor,” Leandro said without much surprise. “All it took to bring you out into the open was a small insult. It was as easy as that. Guards!” he shouted to Greyson and his colleagues.
The big man did not move. One of the others started to but Greyson’s hand stopped him before he had even taken a step. They said nothing.
Leandro turned to Lohrén, who was as alarmed as the others. “I’m sorry that you had to witness this disgrace,” he said. “There are two traitors, this one and that one, and my guards don’t want to obey my orders. This is going badly. Very badly.” He looked at Greyson. “And you’ll end equally badly.
“Very well. Get out! Run away! Go back to your lands and never come back again,” he told Düll Donn, and Othus. “We’ll move against the evil that’s threatening to destroy us. As for my guard, you’ll pay for your insubordination. Today you’ll be replaced and decapitated in punishment. I will not tolerate this behavior!”
Düll Donn and Othus left the Committee with much huffing and puffing, kicking the double door open as they went.
“Have you gone completely insane?” the philosopher demanded. He came to stand face to face with Leandro. “Without them, we won’t have enough forces to counter Mórgomiel. You’re ruining the plan to amass an army of hundreds of thousands. You’re an idiot!”
“The philosopher dares defy his leader, his superior? I am the regent. You will be arrested for insubordination. Guards!”
The guards outside the room heard the order and came running in with their spears pointed at the accused.
“Take the philosopher to the dungeons. He’ll hang for insubordination. Perhaps his death will teach the rest that orders are orders and they must be followed to the letter. Guards! Pray, escort my garrison back to its quarters. Have them give back their armor and weapons and put them in the dungeons and they’ll be hanged too for the same reason.”
Three dozen guards came in and took Greyson and his soldiers away.
“Leandro! Leandro! Don’t do this! Nooo!” the philosopher cried as he was seized. The king’s counselor was dragged off, insulting Leandro the whole way.
The other members of the Committee who were left in the room were speechless.
“The orders have been given, my friends. Let the armies be deployed. Let the Council of Mages be activated. Send the letters to every house, city, and duke. I want every man and woman who can wield a weapon to prepare for battle. We’ll gather in front of Háztatlon as soon as possible and then from there, we’ll march to the Portal of the Worlds. This meeting is over, my friends. You have two weeks to assemble the armies in front of Háztatlon. If you don’t come you’ll be considered traitors. I have spoken.”
“So be it,” Haziiz Farçia said.
“We are already in Kathanas,” Lohrén said. “We are already close to the Portal of the Worlds.”
“Excellent. We’ll meet there.”
The crystal said something through its vibrations, but the shock Leandro’s attitude had given her had left Sokomonoko unable to speak.
“And you, Empress?” he asked. “Are you going to say anything, or are you going to stay silent? Are you joining us or must I consider you a traitor too?”
“We join, Regent,” she replied with defeat in her eyes.
Chapter XXXIX — Retaliation
They appeared in the space near the Meridian as they came out of a violet vortex. With every powerful beat of his wings, Górgometh came closer to the planet he would soon attack. His movements were fast and aggressive, and he was licking his chops with his poisonous forked tongue, anticipating the violence and the infinite cruelty he was about to unleash.
He plummeted into the atmosphere with a cruel smile. His sinuous body and impressive wings left a wake of smoke behind him for leagues, announcing the arrival of terror. It was daytime when he entered that part of the planet, and he turned straight toward the Devonic Range of Simrar, where he would begin the nightmare.
When Górgometh landed amid the camp of a clan of Wild People, the Devonic Shepherds lunged into an attack. The gigantic dogs attacked only to explode into a cloud of ashen black smoke on contact with the dragon’s body of antimatter. The planet and the soil beneath his claws also died at the touch of his corrosive elements.
“Leiwas, you’re going to suffer under the rule of my eternal cruelty!” Mórgomiel shouted. His voice boomed like war-drums, and his malice echoed for leagues around.
The Wild Men, wearing their armor of wyvern-skins, prepared to attack the beast. They had defeated the Dethis during the Times of Köel and after that, had helped repel Árath’s advance on Háztatlon, answering the ancient call to a union of what was left of those who had migrated from Flamonia. But the brave and honest Wild Men of this tribe had no idea that they would be battling no ordinary adversary but the God of Chaos, Lord of Shadows, the utmost cause of destruction, the very one who had created Legionaer and who had conquered the Meridian in to create Kanumorsus.
Górgometh rose onto his hind legs, showing his sinuous body, then spread his wings to their full span. His eyes shone like coals and his jaws wore an evil smile. From his snout emerged a caustic breath, toxic smoke that infected the whole Clan, invading mind, soul, and body.
The next thing he did was to play with his prey. He paralyzed a Wild Woman with his hypnotic gaze, then bewitched her with a spell. He lowered his head until he was face to face with the human and began to torture her soul with his gaze. He entered her mind, and in it, he planted a seed of terror.
He searched in the memories of his prey and found that all of them were good with honesty, love, and warmth toward her family. But Górgometh would not let her die with those pleasant memories. With a couple of spells, he toyed with her thoughts, making her believe that her family had betrayed her and that Mother had abandoned her.
When the dragon withdrew from the mind of his prey he allowed the woman to get to her feet, her mind now disturbed. Górgometh folded his claws and watched with glee as he observed t
hose altered, implanted memories. The Wild Woman fell to her knees, screaming with pain, hatred, and frustration. The sight of her suffering nourished Górgometh.
“Enough pain, little morsel. Now comes the happiest part of all.”
The dragon skewered her guts with a claw and pulled out her intestines as though they were a rope. The woman was clutching her guts as if she were trying to stop him from tearing them out, her eyes staring wide.
“And now I’ll have my fun,” Górgometh said. He blew out his caustic breath, then bewitched her and robbed her of her soul. The dragon was in his element and this was his playground where he made and unmade at his pleasure.
The humans who were closest to the source of the toxic smoke died at once, charred by the intensity of the poison. Those further away, those who had breathed in the poison and survived, began to cough violently until their innards melted from the inside out. Those who survived the spasms of coughing began to change.
While they were still alive, the evil spell deranged their minds and poisoned their hearts, and under this influence, the legendary Wild People of the Clan began to be transformed into demons. Their eyes shone red, their skin melted, and from their hands emerged claws strong enough to tear flesh. These unfortunate creatures had only one mission: search for more humans to turn into evil beasts with an infectious bite.
To continue this wave of terror, Górgometh raised his neck again and with a single swipe, released a column of incandescent fire on his surroundings, reducing the dense and beautiful forest to ash.
“Consume!” Mórgomiel cried and with a spell, he created demons of flame and smoke who, of their own accord, would start a wildfire that would consume everything before them, spreading to new areas and multiplying endlessly. The conflagration would end with the destruction of the lands of Devnóngaron.
“Come, Górgometh. It is time to unleash my fury against the Lands of El Malush. For them, it is sacred land. On our way to those sacred lands, we shall destroy all the Clans we find. And thus will begin the punishment I will impose on the humans who dared to oppose me. They will pay!”
Necromancer’s Sorrow: (Series Finale) Page 32
