The thought was almost too much to bear. Though it didn't seem possible, if there was even the slightest chance that Euthor could live again and be happy once more with his beautiful Sheyla, Madrigan would stop at nothing to see it never came to fruition. Unless...
Madrigan stopped the horse in its tracks, his mind wild with racing thoughts. If he could discover the means by which Euthor meant to bring Sheyla and himself back to life, perhaps Madrigan could use those same means to revive Sheyla only. The thought both thrilled and terrified him. Sheyla had chosen to be with a prince, the pig, Euthor. She was taken with men of power. Now she would meet the most powerful ruler the world would ever know.
He just needed to find out how. He had underestimated Euthor, who had somehow hidden an intricate plan inside his unassuming poetry. It was clever. Perhaps too clever. For the fools who followed him were so concerned with the defense of their realm, that none of them could guess the true mission of Euthor – to see his beloved Sheyla alive again.
Madrigan would die before he let Euthor carry out his plan. He would uncover Euthor's plans and would use them to further a greater end. He would let Euthor rot in the grave, and find a way to bring the fair form of Sheyla back to his side, as it should always have been. He was on a mission now and he had never had more resolve. The conquest of the Eastern Realm was now of secondary importance. It would fall one way or another, a year from now or a hundred – what did it matter?
Madrigan considered first heading to Eulsiphion. He had been greatly surprised to find that Eulsiphion, of all the structures of the old world, remained intact upon this realm. It couldn't be a coincidence that the castle from which Euthor ruled had somehow survived the calamity of the First Age. If Euthor had hidden a way to bring himself and Sheyla back to life, surely it was hidden somewhere in Eulsiphion.
But he didn't want to fumble about, spending days or weeks looking for clues. His army was so close. They might already be knocking at the door. No, he would return to the alliance city, find out what he could from them and enlist the help of one of the Builders to aid him. Undoubtedly he would need their aid to melt the crystal tomb Sheyla was encased within.
A smile of great pleasure emerged on Madrigan's face as he trotted slowly toward the sunset. But a sudden pounding headache brought his hand to his temples, and fury arose as the man imprisoned within, Durian, struggled to regain control.
“You can't stop this,” Madrigan declared. “But you will watch and live to see my rule extend to all corners of this world.”
The Decision
Estrien wandered the alliance city under the stars. It was early morning but still dark, and her restless thoughts had driven her from bed. So much had happened. Sheabor's plan had worked, at least partially. The Bearoc and Kester weren't at each other's throats, and the alliance city had finally made peaceful contact with K'venneh. They could now loosely work together against the coming threat.
But a new problem had arisen for which none had an answer. Durian. Could it really be true that he had been taken captive by the spirit of Corcoran? Estrien hesitated to believe it. But what if it was true? It would mean that everything Durian told them was a lie. What if Sheabor's wife was still alive? Shouldn't she tell him? But Cora very well could have died in Malfur's dungeon, just as Durian had said. It was impossible to know for certain.
And what about what Durian had told them about the resistance, that key members of Corcoran's army had defected and that the resistance had all but gained the upper hand? Surely that was a lie. Her heart beat quicker as thoughts of Straiah filled her mind. They'd not heard from him or Gwaren in weeks.
Sheabor was right. Every time the alliance made a victory, it felt like two other things would go wrong – two steps forward and three steps back. And time was running short. If Jaithur's scouts were right, Durian was heading back to the alliance city. Would they really be able to trap him? And even if they succeeded in trapping Durian and Corcoran inside a room of Shade Stone, how could they be sure of it? What if Blair's stone wasn't truly impenetrable and he escaped, leaving Durian to die alone in the dark?
Worse still, Corcoran would learn that the alliance had somehow gained the materials and powers to craft Shade Stone. If the trap failed, would they ever get a second chance? Wasn't it smarter to wait for Baron's return? Blair still didn't think he could make true Shade Stone on his own. Estrien didn't want to make a decision...she didn't want to be in command. Life as a warrior was simpler – obeying orders and trusting in the decisions of one's superiors.
The sky began to lighten with the first glow of dawn and Estrien found herself climbing atop the wall, gazing outward to the west. A sinking feeling of despair was growing inside her as she considered just how they expected to trap Durian. He wasn't just going to follow them into a closed room, let them shut the door behind him and seal him in forever. Corcoran was far too clever for that. They'd need bait.
Time stretched on as she pondered, but came up short. How could they get Durian into a room of Shade Stone? She heard faint footsteps behind her and turned to find Aravas coming up behind her.
“Blair is beginning his work on one of the completed buildings,” Aravas said. “He's coating it with a thin layer of Shade Stone and then covering it with a layer of normal stone. He says he should be finished as early as this evening. Once Durian is inside the building, he'll need only a few minutes to seal the door behind him. But he insists he needs Baron to make sure the stone is truly indestructible.”
Estrien nodded slowly. Aravas paused, seeming to try and gauge what she was thinking...what had driven her from bed in the early morning hours.
“It may be difficult to keep Corcoran idle why Blair seals the room,” Aravas continued. “He isn't likely to wait patiently there alone in a sealed room. If he suspects a trap, his spirit may flee Durian's body.”
“Isn't the Soul Stone keeping his spirit tethered to Durian?” she asked. “Can he break the bond at will like that?”
“There's no way to be certain,” Aravas replied. “But if Corcoran suspects a trap, he has only to cut Durian's throat by his own hand. If the body of Durian perishes, surely the bond will be broken then.”
Estrien nodded slowly, the despair she'd felt all morning finally manifesting as the realization dawned. She and Aravas both knew what needed to happen. Aravas waited long moments as he studied her face.
“Someone will need to be with Durian when the trap is sprung,” Aravas said.
“I know,” she returned softly.
“I will be the one,” he declared. “I'm nothing anymore but an old man who's worn out his usefulness.”
Estrien was surprised by his humble declaration but she only shook her head.
“No,” she said. “You're too important, not just in the coming war but to the world. When Pallin finds the orb containing your powers, you will help restore our world to its former splendor.”
“But Pallin may have already been killed,” Aravas argued. “If Durian was captured, Pallin surely was as well. Don't foolishly throw your life away.”
Estrien turned and looked him in the eyes.
“If Pallin is dead, all the more reason to put your safety first. One day, your powers will be unlocked. It may not be today. It may not be tomorrow. But someday, you will help restore goodness to this world.”
Aravas gazed at her in warmth and sympathy and he sighed deeply.
“Take heart,” he said. “There may yet be another way...something we haven't thought of.”
Estrien nodded and smiled politely. Aravas placed his hand on her shoulder and then departed, leaving Estrien alone again. But she felt an unexpected peace come over her as the reality of the situation sank in. If she and Aravas followed through with their plan, then regardless of whether or not it worked, she would perish along with Durian. Anyone who entered the room with Durian would never again come out. She couldn't ask anyone else to do it.
Estrien cast her gaze to the east, to the coming sunrise. Everyt
hing felt so vivid and alive and a sudden pride swelled in her heart. She had the chance to stop a terrible war from ever starting. And though it would cost her her life, her sacrifice would save tens of thousands. As the early glow of morning finally matured into the first rays of sunlight, Estrien breathed in deep, surprised to find the air wasn't quite so cold as it had been. The long winter was coming to an end, as it always did. Soon, the spring flowers would color every field and the thought gave her hope.
Estrien took another deep breath and then turned her eyes back to the city. There was still much to be done. She needed to know where in the world Baron might be. If they could get him back to the city before Durian returned, they could be sure their plan would work. Only one person knew where he was. Ariadra.
Estrien made her way to the medical tents. It was still early and she hated to wake a patient on the mend, but she had little choice. Opening the tent flap, Ariadra was lying there bandaged as though she had sustained injuries beyond an overexposure to the elements. Seeing Estrien, one of the healers came and escorted her outside to talk.
“How is she?” Estrien asked.
“She'll recover. But she nearly died of thirst. It was fortunate they found her when they did. She wouldn't have lasted much longer.”
“Is she injured?” Estrien asked.
“Just sore ribs from being slung over a horse the better part of the night.”
“I need to speak with her,” Estrien said.
The healer nodded and the pair went inside to Ariadra's bed, Estrien placing her hand gently on her shoulder. Ariadra blinked her eyes awake. Seeing Estrien, she smiled warmly.
“Hey,” Estrien said. “The healers say you're going to be just fine.”
Ariadra seemed stricken with a sudden headache, closing her eyes and rubbing her temples.
“May I have some water?” she asked.
“Of course,” the healer replied, filling for her a nearby glass of liquid that smelled of herbs.
Ariadra drained the glass and coughed, squeezing her eyes shut for the moment as a slow tear slid down her cheek.
“Where is Baron?” Ariadra asked.
Estrien opened her mouth but hesitated. Hearing the question surprised her.
“I was hoping you could tell me,” Estrien replied.
A look of anguish appeared on Ariadra's face and her eyes began to glisten.
“He hasn't come back?” Ariadra questioned.
“No.”
Ariadra broke down in tears. Estrien didn't understand.
“It's all my fault. When I escaped Ogrindal Baron was still in the forest. The Forest Guard must have...”
Ariadra couldn't continue.
“Escaped?” Estrien questioned but Ariadra offered no insight.
What did she mean escaped? Why had she been held captive in her own city? It didn't make sense. And why did Ariadra believe the Forest Guard had harmed Baron? Baron had set off for Eulsiphion because of something he'd learned in the writings of King Euthor. But he'd clearly stopped by Ogrindal first out of worry for Ariadra. Something terrible must have happened there. But what?
“We think Baron's in Eulsiphion,” Estrien comforted. “He told Sheabor he'd found a clue in the writings of King Euthor that made him believe King Euthor hid something in the catacombs of the city.”
Ariadra seemed greatly encouraged by her words and wiped away her tears, closing her eyes and sinking into her bed.
“I'll let you know as soon as I find out more,” Estrien said.
Ariadra nodded, her eyes clenching shut, and Estrien turned to depart, placing her hand on Ariadra's shoulder and then exiting the tent. Back in the early morning air, Estrien was greatly troubled. What in the world had happened in Ogrindal? A convoy was scheduled to arrive this morning from King Froamb. If Baron was in Eulsiphion, perhaps they'd have more information.
Estrien set out to meet them, though it might be some time before they arrived. So she spent the time walking about the city, greeting the people who were in much higher spirits now that the meeting between the three armies had gone off without bloodshed. The laborers and soldiers all saluted and bowed as she passed, their respect for her having greatly grown in recent weeks, not just for taking command of the alliance city, but for nearly having died to warn them of the previous attack by the mercenaries.
They'd be genuinely heartbroken by her death. The weight of it suddenly struck her in a way she wasn't prepared for. She couldn't bring herself to look any of them in the eyes but found herself stealing away quickly toward the gate in the main wall. Then, in minutes, she was out in the open plains. It had been weeks, months even since she had gone for a peaceful walk in the bounds of nature. The plains of Kester had a similar feel to those of Forthura. And the sun was warmer now than in months prior. Spring was coming to the land. They had survived the long winter.
Estrien lost track of time as she slowly ambled, wondering about her life and the strange times she found herself a part of. But she soon heard a sound that broke her from her ruminations. Someone was approaching the alliance city. It was the caravan from Forthura. She hurried to meet them, catching them just as they entered the main gate.
“Greetings, Captain,” she said.
“Greetings,” he returned with a bow.
“Have you had any word on our Builder, Baron? He set off for Eulsiphion some weeks ago.”
“No. We've received no report on him. If he arrived in Eulsiphion, no one told us.”
Estrien felt a sudden streak of worry. It didn't mean he wasn't in Eulsiphion but it wasn't good news. Sheabor had been hesitant to let Baron travel alone and Baron should've sent word that he'd arrived to Eulsiphion safely. If Baron wasn't in Eulsiphion and if he wasn't back in the alliance city, Ariadra's fears may have been true.
“Thank you, Captain.”
Estrien turned slowly away, trying to quell her anxious thoughts. Knowing Baron, he'd probably just forgotten to send word. But if not, this was truly tragic news, not just for Ariadra and Blair, but for the whole alliance. If it was true that Blair couldn't make indestructible stone without his brother, then any hope they had of trapping Corcoran was lost forever. But it gave her some peace about her decision to try the trap now and not wait for Baron.
Estrien turned her sights toward the interior of the city. How was she going to tell Blair? The worst part was not knowing for certain. Was Sheabor's wife still alive? Was Baron? Should she even tell Blair what Ariadra had said if she wasn't absolutely sure his brother was dead? Estrien maneuvered through the tents toward the back of the city, where Baron and his brother had already constructed a handful of buildings, which Estrien had only seen at a distance.
She was surprised at the finery of them, with evenly spaced decorative pillars and courtyards of smooth, beautiful stone. Blair was outside of one of the smaller buildings inspecting his work carefully as Estrien approached alongside him.
“What do you think?” she asked. “Will it work?”
“I don't know,” Blair responded. “I've done my best, but I wish Baron were here. I keep thinking he'll show up – wander in without a care as though nothing at all important was happening.”
Blair smiled, which drew a smile from Estrien. For that was Baron's nature, carefree and impetuous as the wind.
“Does Ariadra know where he is?” Blair asked.
Estrien took a step away.
“She's not sure.”
Estrien opened her mouth but still hesitated on telling him anything further. Blair seemed to sense she was holding something back and gave her his full attention.
“Apparently Baron didn't go straight to Eulsiphion,” Estrien began. “He stopped by Ogrindal first. I have no idea what happened there, but Ariadra thinks Baron may have been killed by the Forest Guard.”
“What?” Blair exclaimed. “Why would she think that?”
“I don't know. It sounds like she was being held prisoner in Ogrindal for some strange reason. I have no idea why. When she broke fre
e to track down Baron, it sounds like maybe the Forest Guard got to him first. It's difficult to say. Baron hasn't returned to the alliance city. It's possible he escaped and went to Eulsiphion. But I spoke with the captain of the convoys, and he hasn't had any news of him.”
Estrien paused, giving Blair the chance to process.
“I don't know what to think,” she concluded. “I can't believe that Ogrindal would kill Baron, but Ariadra seemed to think so. And if he isn't in Eulsiphion, it doesn't leave many happy options.”
Blair nodded his head slowly.
“He'll turn up,” Blair encouraged. “He always does.”
Estrien was glad for his confidence, placing a hand on his shoulder, then leaving him to his work. Turning back toward the rest of the city, she let out a sigh and waited for the next surprise the day would bring.
Suriya
Baron and the laborers erected and fixed nearly a dozen homes along the northern edge of Suriya, very proud of their first day's work. The buildings were sleek and square, all in line and oriented the same way like a respectable, modern city. They didn't have chimneys awkwardly strewn about like the rest of the cottages, but were rather, soundly integrated with their southern walls at a consistent, standard height in each building.
Near the end of the day the representative from Forthura came to see what a day's effort could yield from one of the alliance's chief Builders and was more than a little pleased in Baron's efficiency.
“At this rate, you'll have Suriya rebuilt in a week!”
Baron smiled, knowing him to be less interested in the welfare of Suriya and more interested in at last returning to his comfortable bed, somewhere in the warmer north of Forthura.
“A week might be a bit aggressive,” Baron chuckled. “These homes don't have roofs, windows or furnishings. They're skeletons merely.”
The Banished Lands- The Complete Series Page 79
