He knew he needed to get to safety, and he also knew he had to continue on his quest. There was no turning back. He couldn’t return to the people he loved, even if they were still alive and could beat back the enemy army of mutated soldiers Gwendolyn had sent to destroy them, and tell them that he had failed.
He crawled forward, not sure if he was moving toward the cavern wall he’d seen with the smaller tunnel leading away from the behemoth’s lair, or if he was moving toward the crevasse. The pain in his hip made that leg unusable, even sliding across the smooth stone floor of the cavern made it throb with pain.
“At least I know I’m alive,” he said out loud. His voice was scratchy. He guessed it was either from lack of use or from the strain of screaming. He had faced a giant before, but that was different. He could see then, it was dark out, but the sky was full of stars and Brianna’s pride of dragons had set the world around them on fire. He hadn’t defeated that giant, he realized, Brianna had done that. She had turned the ground around the giant into a field of molten rock until the huge monster had sunk back down into the earth. He hadn’t been paralyzed by fear though, he reminded himself. He had fought that giant, along with Brianna and her dragons. This time though, he’d been helpless. He wondered if it was even possible for one person all alone to reach the depths that Gwendolyn had sunk to. Brianna had seen her, and Zollin wondered how that was possible. He had been traveling for what felt like years, searching through dark corridors and crawling through tiny tunnels but he wasn’t any closer to reaching Gwendolyn than when he had begun.
No, he told himself. That wasn’t true, he didn’t know how close the witch was. He had to keep moving, he had to find her and stop her. That was all that mattered. Even if he did die alone in the darkness, he had to keep trying. Everything he cared for and everyone he loved was depending on him. It didn’t matter if he never saw the sun again, or if he died. He had to stop the Sorceress and he resolved that he wouldn’t stop, wouldn’t give in to his fear and despair. He would do whatever it took to stop her so that no one he loved would have to face the horror he had seen. He would die before he let the Five Kingdoms fall into darkness.
Chapter 14
King Zorlan waited in the feasting hall. He felt like a spider. The trap was set and he was ready to spring it. It had taken longer for his surprise guest to arrive than he had thought, but the man was now here and Zorlan waited for Wilam to come down out of his suite of rooms. It was routine in the settlement of Walheta’s Gate to have a light midday meal. He was used to more luxurious fare, but he hadn’t complained. Since he’d learned of King Felix’s death, the King of Falxis’s future was growing brighter. He had half expected for King Felix to order his death immediately upon arriving. It was no less than he would have done himself, especially with the army that would have arrived with King Felix. No one could have stopped the King of Yelsia taking revenge on his rival, certainly not the sparse force of men King Zorlan still commanded. But now that King Felix was dead, Zorlan had an advantage. He had bested Wilam in battle before and had broken the boy who now wore the crown of Yelsia. Wilam hadn’t been in Yelsia when Zorlan and King Belphan had invaded. That meant that while Wilam had every right to be angry with Zorlan, he had more incentive to be afraid.
Zorlan sipped the goblet of wine and watched the soldiers move around the room. The carpenter, Quinn, was working on a broken bench, most of Wilam’s officers had ridden out with the calvary earlier in the day. It was the perfect time for Zorlan to spring his trap. The dwarves were gone, as was Wilam’s betrothed. She was a sorceress of some power, Zorlan had heard. He wasn’t sure what made her different from the witch they were fighting, but at least for now she was on his side and it made him more comfortable to know that she was away from the feasting hall on some errand too. Willam would never be more exposed than he was at this moment.
Of course simply killing him outright wouldn’t accomplish anything. If Zorlan had Wilam assassinated, the soldiers would blame Zorlan and elect another of their officers king. They would probably have Zorlan killed for the crime as well. It would be almost impossible to avoid being blamed for such a crime. So King Zorlan had come up with a different way to remove Wilam from power, where he would be seen as the innocent party and hopefully open an avenue for him to take the throne in Yelsia. From there, he could defeat the witch’s army and then continue his conquest of the Five Kingdoms.
* * *
Wilam sat on a stool, lost in thought. So much had changed so quickly for the young king that he felt almost paralyzed by the weight of it all. He had thought that marrying Brianna would make things easier, but Quinn had pulled him aside along with General Hausey. They both counselled him to wait, to make his marriage part of a great victory celebration when they returned to Yelsia. He could certainly see the wisdom in that. He could combine his official coronation with his marriage and the news of their victory over the witch. It would help usher in his rein by softening the news of his father’s death at the hands of a traitor.
So Wilam had put off his plans, although he hadn’t talked to Brianna about any of it. He knew she was hesitant, but what he didn’t know was why she was hesitant. Perhaps she was just too occupied with the war that was quickly approaching. He wanted desperately to believe that was what kept Brianna from him. She was certainly busy enough, he rarely saw her. In fact Brianna and the dragons were a crucial aspect of the defense against Gwendolyn’s evil army. But despite all the evidence to support this belief, Wilam felt deep in his heart that Brianna didn’t truly love him. In fact, he was so afraid she might reject him, he refused to talk to her about their marriage or his plans.
He had always dreamed of becoming king, he’d spent hours imagining the pomp and circumstance that would surround his coronation. In all those fantasies he never considered that his father would be murdered, or that he would be handed the crown in the middle of the forest and given the responsibility of saving the kingdom. Of course as a child he’d daydreamed of leading great armies into battle, but after being defeated by King Zorlan, he couldn’t help but second guess his strategies. It didn’t help that Zorlan cast doubt on his every decision as, in an excruciatingly vocal and public manner. The pauper king from Falxis constantly argued that he should be the supreme commander in the coming engagements. Brianna, along with all of Wilam’s advisors had urged him to stand firm and believe in himself. Unfortunately, that was proving more difficult with each passing day.
Wilam’s biggest fear had always been that he would be rejected as king. It wasn’t completely unheard of for a kingdom to rise up and demand that a king step aside in place of a better ruler. Of course a king with enough power could slaughter enough innocent people to ensure that no one ever challenged their right to rule, but Wilam could never be such a cruel tyrant. Still, if the generals marching in with the king’s army from the coast wanted, they could rally the army’s support and oust him from the throne. It was such a frightening thought he couldn’t find the strength to do much more than sit and stare. His staff of officers stayed busy, and he did his best to look as though he were filling his hours with contemplation of their every move in the coming battle, but the truth was he was terrified. All the confidence and excitement he had felt through the years was gone, replaced by a terrible doubt in his own abilities that no amount of encouragement could shake.
He took the crown off his head. The gold circlet was simple, little more than a band of gold that fit snugly around his head. He had grown used to the weight of it, and the cold metal warmed to the temperature of his skin quickly enough that he could wear it for hours without noticing anymore. Still, he felt like a child playing dress up. This was his father’s crown, and it seemed strange to Wilam that he was wearing it now. He turned the crown in his hands, admiring the way the gold reflected the light. Then he noticed the inscription and tilted the crown so the light caught on the lettering and he could read it.
Selix, Gyia, Tig
He was more than a little surprised to
realize the crown had the names of three dragons carved into it. It had to be a recent addition to the crown, Wilam realized. His father had only heard of the dragons a little over a month earlier and there was no way those names had been there all along. These were the same three dragons his father had taken control of and he wondered if their names carved into the golden crown had something to with how. He searched the crown for any other inscriptions or hidden details but there was none. He placed the crown back on his head and thought of Gyia. Of course he could communicate with the serpentine purple dragon as long as Gyia was close enough. Their bond was strong, and Gyia responded to his inquiry. The purple dragon sent him a mental image of the cavalry soldiers riding through low hills, preparing for their strafing attacks on the witch’s mutated army. He sent the dragon a sense of contentment and Gyia returned his sentiments.
Then he thought of Tig, the small, blue dragon only recently restored to full health. Wilam had never had any sort of connection to the other dragons, just Gyia. But now he felt the dragon’s joy as it soared high above the clouds. He could feel Tig’s exertion as it sped faster than any other dragon, flying south to scout the enemy army. It had left the mountains only recently, but it had already overtaken Gyia and the legion of cavalry led by General Hausey. It would be able to see the enemy soon.
Then Wilam thought of Selix. The great golden dragon was with Brianna now, carrying her toward another steep hill. Wilam could sense Selix’s feelings of worry and the dragon’s vigilant watch for danger. He realized he could control the dragons, but he didn’t know why. He reached up and removed the crown from his head. Immediately the connection he had with Selix was broken. He tried to contact Gyia, but the purple dragon was too far away. He set the crown back on his head and immediately he could feel all three dragons. The sense of control was strong and made him feel a little giddy. The dragons were under his command.
“Circle,” he told Selix.
The golden dragon turned in the air, performing a slow circuit of the hill it was descending toward.
“Roll!” he said out loud, pushing the command toward Tig.
The blue dragon pulled up, extending its wings and turning a complete flip in mid air. Wilam smiled and stood. His fears suddenly seemed as inconsequential as rain to the ocean. How could he doubt that anyone would refuse him now? He had three dragons under his direct control.
“I think its time we eat,” he told the officers in the room.
The men nodded and followed him out of the anteroom where his personal belongings were kept and where all the trappings of his command had been laid out for easy access. He strode down the wooden stairs toward the feasting hall feeling more confident than he had in a long time. He could smell the food being prepared. It was simple fare, but the aroma of baking bread still filled the feasting hall, along with the strong scent of ale and wine. He saw wheels of cheese laid out on the tables, with loaves of bread and crocks of soft butter. There would be left over meat from the night before, but the kitchen staff had yet to bring the meat or ale out of the store rooms.
Wilam sat down, flanked by his officers and sliced into a thick loaf of crusty bread. He smeared his slice of bread with butter and was just lifting it to his lips when he saw something which made his hand freeze. His heart began to flutter and fear sank its fangs into his heart. His hands shook and he felt his bowels turning to water.
“What is it, my lord?” asked Symon, a young noble who had become a close advisor to King Wilam after serving on his staff as they marched south from Felson.
Wilam didn’t respond, nor could he look away from the blank stare of the man across the room. It was Ebain, King Zorlan’s torturer, the man who had spent an entire night slowly cutting, prying, and sawing Wilam’s legs in order to make him tell King Zorlan all he knew about the defenses of the Grand City.
He was finding it hard to breathe. His chest felt heavy, as if there were ropes tied around his chest and slowly tightening. Sweat broke out on his forehead and on his back. The urge to run, to get as far away from Ebain was almost overwhelming, but somehow King Wilam managed to stay in his seat. His food was forgotten and his staff of advisors, now only a handful of men since General Hausey had taken most of the officers with the cavalry that was moving south to slow the enemy’s advance, had no idea what was bothering their king.
“My lord, you aren’t well,” said Symon. “Let us get you upstairs where you can rest.”
“No,” he said through gritted teeth.
His fear was building into anger. The realization that he now had three dragons at his beck and call gave him confidence. He knew that Brianna would not be happy about his discovery, but Wilam was King now; it was only fitting that he had control of the pride of dragons.
He rose slowly to his feet. His gaze was fixed on Ebain, who stood a little behind and to the right of King Zorlan. Wilam missed the small smile that appeared on Zorlan’s jowly face. Wilam ignored the men around him and moved around the table he’d been seated at. His legs felt stiff and his knees weak, but he willed himself to move forward. He walked to Zorlan’s table and stared at Ebain.
“Young Wilam,” King Zorlan said. “You look as white as a sheet. Has someone walked over your grave?”
“You…” Wilam said, pointing at Ebain and ignoring Zorlan, “you are a dead man.”
Ebain didn’t speak, in fact his expression never changed. It was almost as if the torturer didn’t even hear Wilam’s threat.
“What is this?” King Zorlan said loudly. “You can’t just threaten my men.”
“He’s your torturer!” Wilam shouted. “He spent hours hacking into my feet and legs.”
“King Wilam,” Zorlan said, feigning outrage. “Torture is a crime against all the people of the Five Kingdoms. I’ll not sit idle while you accuse me of such behavior.”
“It was him,” Wilam said. “I’ll never forget his face.”
“This is outrageous! You shall take back your baseless accusations and apologize for your base behavior this instant or I shall have satisfaction.”
“It’s not baseless and you know it, you swine. You tortured me for information so you could capture the Grand City.”
“Lies,” King Zorlan shouted. “Baseless lies. Where is your proof?”
“My testimony is all the proof I need,” Wilam said. He reached for his sword, but it was still in the anteroom upstairs.
“You were tortured?” King Zorlan said.
“Of course I was. You ordered it. You were there.”
“No… I wasn’t,” Zorlan sneered. “If you were tortured then tell us what happened to you.”
“I was taken prisoner and held inside a tent on the road to the Grand City. Your monster there,” King Wilam thrust his hand through the air like a sword blow, pointing his finger at Ebain, “tortured me for hours.”
“For hours? Really, King Wilam, have you lost your mind?”
“No, don’t sully me with your lies, Zorlan. You know I speak the truth.”
“What did he do to you for hours?” King Zorlan asked in a mocking tone.
“He cut my legs.”
“Surely not.”
“He tore away my toe nails and cut into my joints.”
“And now here you are, walking as naturally as anyone. I think you’ve lost your mind,” King Zorlan said. “How can we let such a lunatic lead our armies?”
“This isn’t the time or the place for this,” Quinn said. He had come into the Feasting hall with Mansel when they heard the shouting inside.
“No, I will not be insulted in this fashion,” Zorlan went on. “Let King Wilam offer proof or I will have satisfaction.”
“I’ll have his head on a pike!” Wilam shouted.
“Proof! I demand proof,” Zorlan shouted.
The room was in an uproar. Wilam’s staff of advisors were shouting and the men with King Zorlan shouted back. Quinn tried to quiet them, but his cries fell on deaf ears. Finally, Mansel drew his sword, the shinning blade whistl
ed through the air before slapping broadside on the wooden table. The resulting sound was louder than the shouting, like a crack of thunder.
“Quiet!” Mansel bellowed, which finally stopped the shouting.
“I have been accused of a crime,” King Zorlan said. “I want proof.”
“What proof?” King Wilam said loudly.
“Show us your legs? If you were tortured as you say, there will be scars on your legs. Let us see them.”
It was a gamble on King Zorlan’s part. He didn’t know for sure that Wilam had no marks from the torture, but somehow the young prince had been healed or there was no way he would be able to walk, Zorlan was sure of that.
“There are no scars,” Wilam spat. “The wizard healed me.”
“What wizard?”
“Zollin of course, the wizard of Yelsia.”
“Did anyone see this?” King Zorlan said angrily. “Can anyone verify that Wilam was tortured?”
There was silence. King Wilam was too angry, his fear fuelling his rage, to notice that he had walked into a trap.
“Brianna can verify it,” Wilam said, his voice cracking with tension.
“Your betrothed? She is not a reliable witness. Besides, she isn’t even here.”
“If King Wilam says that Brianna can verify his story, then she can,” Quinn said, trying to keep his own temper in check.
“Of course, of course, that’s what all the loyal Yelsian subjects would say. But you are accusing the sovereign ruler of Falxis and I can see only one way to resolve this issue.” King Zorlan let his statement hang in the air for a moment, then he sprang his trap. “I call for trial by combat.”
The statement caught everyone off guard except for Wilam. His rage blinded him to any thought of King Zorlan’s duplicity. Before his advisors could stop him, Wilam shouted his agreement.
Five Kingdoms: Book 07 - Wizard Falling Page 10
