by Sam Ferguson
Master Lepkin halted his horse in a valley with rolling hills on three sides and a lush, green forest on the other. When he jumped off he also removed the saddle and let the horse wander to the nearby stream and drink the water there before nibbling on some of the grass.
“Good idea,” Lepkin said to his horse. He pulled some flat bread from one of the saddlebags and ripped a piece off in his teeth. He chewed slowly as his fingers felt a book in the bottom of the bag. He pulled it out and looked at it for a moment. He glanced up to his horse before sitting cross legged on the ground. He set the book in front of him on the grass and stared at it for a long time. The cover was black leather. He ran his right index finger over it, feeling the smoothness of the leather before he opened the book to the middle and stared at the blank pages.
“What would you use for a password, Orres?” Lepkin asked aloud. He placed his left hand on the open pages. “Lady Dimwater,” he said. Nothing happened. He thought for a moment. “Kyra,” he said. Still, nothing happened. “Kyra Dimwater,” he said finally. The pages remained blank. He closed the book and pondered to himself. He knew this type of magic, having seen it many times before. He knew it consisted of a series of invisibility spells weaved over the book so that only the one who knew the password could read the words. The magic could be undone, but Master Lepkin didn’t have time to find a wizard skilled enough to dispel the magic. In fact, he could only work with the book during times like this, when he was forced to take a break from traveling or from his other duties.
He wondered why Master Orres would betray him. He had known the man for most of his life, and it didn’t seem to make any sense to him. Orres had always been faithful, a little headstrong and overzealous at times, but faithful nonetheless. Perhaps this was simply a misunderstanding. Maybe there was a reason why Orres was searching for Nagar’s Secret. Lepkin shook his head even as he thought about it. The keeping of the book was a sacred calling. It could not be taken up by any man who felt like doing it. Only one called and chosen by the priests of the Valtuu Temple had the right to protect the book. Lepkin drummed Orres’ journal with his fingers. The answers he needed were just beyond him.
He spent the next hour trying all of the possible passwords he could think of. He went through the names of all of Orres’ relatives, living and deceased, that he knew of. He tried every word about Lady Dimwater he could think of. He even tried words about himself. Nothing worked. When he had exhausted every word he could think of he stood up, holding the book in his left hand. He walked over to the horse and inspected the animal.
The horse’s legs still shook and every once in a while it took in a large, slow breath. Lepkin knew it was too early to ride the horse again, but he had to get moving. He went back for the saddle. He could hear the horse’s grunting protest, but he had no choice. He hefted the saddle off the ground and turned back toward the horse.
Something knocked into his chest, hard. Lepkin looked down to see the shaft of an arrow protruding from the middle. He dropped the saddle and bent to a crouching position, fighting the pain. A few silhouettes appeared on one of the hills. In the late afternoon light Lepkin could just make out the black tattoos that streaked across the attackers’ bodies. Blacktongues.
Another arrow flew, silent and deadly, but Lepkin had seen this one before it took flight. His sword was out in a flash and the magical fire consumed the arrow before it could reach its target.
“You can’t beat us all,” a voice called from behind.
Lepkin turned to see a man in a black hooded robe emerge from the tree line of the forest. He had twenty more Blacktongues flanking him on either side. Lepkin knew at once that this was another warlock, of the same order as Tukai, though he knew not this warlock’s name. Lepkin slowly rose to his feet, keeping an eye on both groups.
More Blacktongues appeared over another hill.
“You have wasted your arrow,” Master Lepkin called out. “You will not get another chance to take my life.”
“Ha!” the warlock shouted. “Look around you! You can’t possibly defeat all of them. And even if you could, there is no way you are escaping my magic.”
“I have dealt with more than this at a time,” Master Lepkin replied.
“When you were younger, yes,” the warlock conceded. “But you are near fifty now, and you are starting the battle with an arrow near your heart. You will die today.” The warlock lifted his right hand and gave a shout. In one instant the entire world around Lepkin came alive with movement. Blacktongues jumped up from the long grass on the other side of the stream. The warriors on the hilltops nocked arrows and let them fly. The Blacktongues flanking the warlock rushed toward him, and the warlock was gathering a great fireball, encased with electrical energy that coursed over the flames like snakes.
Lepkin felt his innermost fears come alive. He knew what he had to do if he was to survive this battle. Even though he feared the pain that would come, he knew that it was not as bad as the effects of the old magic that would reach out to his mind. He closed his eyes and released the magic that bound him to his human form. Fire swept out from his sword, enveloping him in a cocoon of yellow and red flames. The arrows of the Blacktongues were turned to ash long before they could reach him. Many of the other warriors stopped and stared, dumbfounded. Even the warlock’s spell wasn’t strong enough to penetrate the shield.
A mighty roar erupted from the fiery cocoon. Golden light burst through the top and coursed straight into the clouds, like an arrow to the heavens. The light slowly burst through the remainder of the sphere, washing the entire valley in its blinding brilliance. Sounds like thunder and exploding rocks came from within the shattering sphere and then all went quiet as the light retracted into the perforated cocoon. The fire seemed to take over again, and then it expanded, exploding through the valley with such force that many of the nearby Blacktongues turned to ash. The heat wave rolled over the hills and into the forest as well, turning the grass and trees it touched brown as dirt. The warriors that remained alive were all thrown to the ground by its force. Even the warlock was powerless to defend himself.
The warlock smacked the flames that licked his robe with his hand until they died out. He rolled onto his knees and then, with grunting effort, pushed back up to his feet. He looked to the spot where Lepkin had stood, expecting to see the man exhausted from such an expenditure of magic. His mouth fell agape. Where Lepkin had been, a dragon now stood. Its four legs the size of strong tree trunks, tipped with talons on its toes. To say the body was massive would not even come close to describing the beast’s sheer size. Scales of coppery brown shielded the beast from the arrows that were sent toward it. They plinked off, glancing away like pebbles cast at a granite wall. Even the arrow that had found its way to Lepkin’s chest was not a threat now. The shape shift had melted the shaft away. The beast’s head had many horns protruding from it, as though it was a kind of mane for the dragon. The snout was long and filled with sharp fangs that the lips could not conceal. Smoke swirled out of the nostrils like silvery tendrils rising toward the clouds. The dragon waved its mighty spike tipped tail.
The warlock refocused and gathered the most powerful spell he could muster. The dragon roared in anger. Flames engulfed most of the remaining Blacktongues before the warlock could blink his eyes. He knew there was nothing he could do to defeat the dragon. The last thing he saw was the great, gaping maw filled with teeth closing around him from above.
CHAPTER 9
Erik stared out the window of the bedchamber he had been given at the temple. He watched a falcon fly in from the west and land on a perch near the temple’s front entrance, almost directly below him. One of the temple guards untied something from the falcon. It was a message, Erik knew, but he didn’t know what it was about. Master Lepkin had not sent any messages of late, and if the falcons brought news of House Lokton, no one told him. He sighed as the temple guard disappeared into the doorway below. He couldn’t take it anymore. He had to know what was going on.
Erik turned to the nearby window and opened it. He took a quick peek around outside to ensure that he would not get caught before he leaned out to see if the window to the adjacent room was open. He knew it had been lent to Al as a personal study. He smiled when he saw that the window to the room was indeed open.
Erik climbed onto the window sill and reached out to catch a lip in the stone on the outside of the wall. The ground floor of the temple was really about ten feet above the actual ground. The fall was not so far down to worry Erik, but it would make it nearly impossible to hear the conversation Al was having. So he clung to the wall and inched toward the open window. The voices grew louder and clearer the closer he came.
“What shall I send as a reply?” a man asked.
“There is no reply,” Al said resignedly. “I can not respond on Master Lepkin’s behalf. They will just have to do the best they can until he arrives. Then, Master Lepkin can send whatever reply he wishes.”
“As you wish, master dwarf,” the man said.
Erik heard footsteps followed by a door closing shut. “Snake eggs,” Erik mumbled. “I missed it.” The conversation was over and there was no way of knowing what was in the message, or even where it had come from. At least Erik knew by Al’s words that the message had not come from Lepkin. That at least eliminated one possibility, but it didn’t solve the puzzle. He started to inch back toward the window he had used to access the outside wall, but then he heard footsteps approaching that window. The guard must be coming to close it.
Erik had to choose fast. He wasn’t sure what the guards would do if they caught him snooping about, but he wasn’t in the mood to find out. He quickly scooted back to Al’s study window and took a glance inside. He saw Al, standing near the door, reading a paper in his hand. Erik looked back to the other window. The footsteps were close now. He did the only thing he could think of. He leapt down into Al’s study as quietly as he could and hunched low to the ground, hoping that the desk would block him from Al’s view if the dwarf turned around. He only needed a few moments. Just long enough for the guard to close the other window and then Erik would jump out to the ground below after the guard had gone away.
“It isn’t polite to snoop, boy,” Al grumbled from across the room.
Erik’s breath froze in his chest.
“Come on out from behind the desk,” Al said.
“How did you know I was here?” Erik asked sheepishly.
“I may be several hundred years old, but I ain’t deaf,” Al groused. “You were loud enough to be heard from across a room twice the size of this one. Besides, I’ve seen the way you keep eyeing these messages that come in. I figured it was only a matter of time before you tried to swipe one off my desk.”
“I wasn’t going to swipe anything, I promise,” Erik protested.
“Save it,” Al said quickly. “I ain’t mad at you. I just don’t want you to snoop around anymore. These messages are for Master Lepkin, not for you. When he gets here he can decide whether he wants to tell you what they say. In the meantime, you’ll have to trust my judgment, and I say you don’t need to know what the messages say. Got it?”
“Yes sir,” Erik said.
“Good. Now pick up the piece of paper on the desk in front of you. It’s a list of chores that I hope will help you remember that you shouldn’t be snooping around.”
Erik grabbed the list and looked at it. There were many chores, but he knew there was no use arguing with Al. That would only add more chores. Besides, cleaning the stables wasn’t all that bad when compared to slogging through hundreds of pages in old history books. “I’ll get right on these,” Erik said.
“See that you finish the whole list before you go to bed tonight. I’ll meet you in the small library tomorrow morning. Now go. I have things to tend to.”
*****
“You fool,” Lord Lokton chided Mr. Stilwell.
“What?” Mr. Stilwell asked in response. He concentrated hard not to let his satisfaction show through the ruse.
“You have dashed any hopes for peace between us and House Cedreau,” Lord Lokton declared. “They have called their men to arms! Have you any idea what you have done?”
“But, my lord, I have done nothing. I have been in this cell since yesterday. You put me here, remember?” Mr. Stillwell had to fight back the urge to smile wide at seeing Lord Lokton’s face redden.
“I’m not a fool,” Lord Lokton growled. “I know it was you.”
“Do you have proof?” Mr. Stilwell asked. “Because, if you don’t, the senator assigned to this investigation will set me free and you will be punished for falsely imprisoning me.”
“You know nothing,” Lord Lokton boomed. “Lord Cedreau will march on us in force before the senator ever gets here. You, along with everyone else will die unless we call up our own men. You have started a blood feud!”
“No!” Mr. Stilwell shouted back. “They started it. They killed my cousin.”
“I have matters to tend to,” Lord Lokton said with sudden composure. “I will let you mull one thing over in your mind though before I go.” Lord Lokton turned and narrowed his eyes threateningly at Mr. Stilwell before he spoke. He wanted to make sure he had the man’s attention. “You snuck into the wrong room. The boy you killed was not Eldrik. You killed Timon. How does it sit with your sense of justice to know that you killed an innocent boy?”
*****
Erik sat at the table in the small library room, waiting for Al. He drummed his fingers on the table, staring at the words on the pages before him, but not reading them. His mind was overwhelmed by all of the new knowledge he had learned over the past several days. It perturbed him that he still wasn’t sure what his part in all of this was to be. Every time he asked Al about it, the dwarf would say that it was for Master Lepkin to explain. But Master Lepkin had not sent word since his arrival at Livany.
The door to Erik’s left opened and in walked a man that Erik had not seen before. He was tall, roughly six and a half feet, and lean. His jaw was well defined, but narrow. His nose was sort of hawkish, and seemed to accentuate the glazed over orbs in his eye sockets. There were a few wrinkles of age on the man’s face, but there were no other marks of any kind. His eyebrows and hair were white as freshly fallen snow, matching the silken robes he wore. A single stripe of gold silk ran vertically down the center of the front of the robes. The man stood in front of Erik, with his hands folded into the opposite sleeve.
“Erik, this is the Prelate, he is the head of this temple,” Al said as he stepped out from behind the tall man in white. Behind him came another man, also in white. It was Marlin, the man that had escorted Erik into the temple on the day he arrived. Marlin walked in and stood beside the prelate.
“Erik, you will be coming with us today,” Marlin said.
“What about my history lessons?” Erik asked. It wasn’t that he desperately felt like reading another five or six hundred pages today, but he was shocked at the sudden change in his routine.
“You have learned enough history for now, boy,” Al said. “Now you must begin a new kind of training.”
“True,” Marlin cut in. “Master Lepkin is training your body to fight, Al has been helping you to expand your mind, and now we will see what shape your spirit is in.”
The prelate turned to Marlin and nodded slowly. “I believe he is ready,” he said simply.
Erik watched the prelate leave the room. He was confused what the prelate had been talking about. What was Erik ready for? He sure didn’t know.
“Go on boy, I have other matters to tend to anyway,” Al gruffed.
Erik rose to his feet and followed Marlin. The two of them walked out of the small library and turned up a set of stairs that switched back and forth as they climbed higher and higher into the tower. Erik had never gone beyond the third level before, but he knew now that he was near the top of the tower. Each time they passed a new level of the tower a door stood closed, blocking Erik’s view of the other floors. Each door was a different color. There was a green door, a red one, a yellow one, a brown one, and even a black one. Marlin stopped before a gold door and motioned for Erik to open it.
He slowly walked to the door and gripped the brass ring of the door. He pulled the door open and then he backed away from the door, offering to let Marlin enter first. Marlin smiled to him and then passed through.
“This is a training floor,” Marlin explained.
“It doesn’t look like a training floor,” Erik replied. The first chamber was quite bare. The floor was made of wood, the walls were painted light brown, and there was only one padded stool in the center of the room. The stool was red, almost as tall as a chair and twice as wide. “What is the stool for?”
“This is where you will spend today,” Marlin said. “Go and sit cross-legged on that stool.” Erik did as he was asked. “I will explain briefly some background information, and then I will give you your instructions and your training will begin.”
