The Exodus Sagas: Book II - Of Dragons And Crowns

by Jason R Jones

  “Welcome back Vanessa Blackflame and Balric D’Vrelle, we hope your honeymoon was joyous. God knows this won’t be.” Silver laughed as they passed into the underchamber, his remaining teeth and straggly gray hair reeked of dirty old man and musty leather. “Now once they have passed the wand, we have to announce them, especially if there are doppelgangers with, understood?”

  The boy nodded, placing the wand on the alcove ledge and then drawing his saber which was still too long a weapon for the boy for another few years. Oggidan walked ahead of the caravan of wicked fey creatures and their prisoners. “Ariili and five doppelgangers with Balric and Vanessa, Prince Johnas!”

  “Good work, nicely done Oggidan. How is your brand? Still smarts a little, eh?” Silver shut the door behind them. “And remember, never open the right door unless the person entering is marked to die by the prince because…” the door shut.

  The underchamber with the onyx throne and white inlays of marble on the floor depicting a spider looked the same as when he had left it over a month ago. Torches, scattered magical lanterns of green, orange, and red, and the smell of wine, liquor, opium and precious coins and jewels; it hit him like waking from a bad dream. Vanessa started to panic, struggling and moaning with her shapeshifting captors as they reverted to their true and natural forms. Pale white and blue, hairless with pointy ears, long bony claws and sharp fangs, but it was the solid black eyes that sent shivers up the spine of most.

  “Well, well, well. Look what the cats have brought me. My two favorite lovers. My young pupil, and the double agent. Or should I say triple agent? He worked for the church to infiltrate me in Harlaheim, then spied on us here as a branded member, and now he has spent time with the king of Chazzrynn. You have a bit much on your plate, Harlian.” laughter rolled lightly from the corners and balconies where every cutthroat killer and criminal in the guild watched.

  “Remove their gags.” Johnas pointed to the human guards inside, and they did as they were ordered.

  Balric felt relief as his teeth could now close and the soppy rag was free of his mouth. He looked around, head lowered, noticing a strange figure next to the throne that Johnas rested in. He had very little hair left on his head, and the skin was tight and drawn strange over his skull. Scars on his neck looked severe and recent, like his neck had been severed by a blade. Bony white hands with black fingernails held a gnarled banyan root that had been polished into a staff atopped with a human skull. His face resembled a corpse as much as a man, and a strange shadowy mist seemed to spin gently over his dark eyes, enervating the strength in Balric’s breathing. He turned his eyes away from the unnerving stare of the robed man, and tried to glance at Vanessa beside him instead.

  “I told the king nothing, nor the prince. We were taken against our will Johnas and-“

  A brutal kidney shot from a small club dropped the Harlian spy to his knees, turning his speech into low moans and stifled curses. The men around him laughed and put their hands on his shoulders to keep the bound spy from falling over onto his face. The human agent with his cloth mask pulled up over his nose whispered into Balric’s ear. “You will speak when spoken to, prisoner. Next time, I club your woman, or have some sort of fun with her. On your feet.”

  “Tell me, Balric of Harlaheim, what would you do if you were me? Should I kill you both, throw you in the pit? Enlighten me.” Johnas drew his blade, the enchanted weapon hummed from the emerald in the pommel to the end of the wavy kris blade. It told its owner by the vibrations, to kill him and let it feel the blood upon its steel edge, but the prince held still and merely pointed the weapon at his prisoners.

  “Let him go Johnas, and I will remain here with you.” Vanessa spoke up, which was difficult for her as she trembled in fear and pain simply seeing her former owner and hearing his voice.

  “How noble, young Blackflame, noble indeed for a slave girl. However, I have you both at this point, and do not need any advice from a disloyal wizard.” the prince of Valhirst snapped his fingers, and within a second two young Caberran girls stepped out from behind his throne dressed in simple black silk robes and little more. They put their hands nervously around his shoulders and arms, pretending to be affectionate. “Besides, as you can see, you have been replaced.”

  “I say you let me have them for awhile, my experiments will need fresh meat. Yes, fresh and young blood for something vile and new. What say you Johnas? May I?” Salah-Cam hissed as much as spoke, as his voice had suffered from his beheading at the edge of Kendari’s blade some weeks ago. His potent ritual had nearly completed, and he was surely sustained with life for time indefinite. He was disturbed however, that his flesh did not seem to be much more than a shell anymore; he felt as though it would fall off day by day. His wounds had healed as best they could, and his anger at his appearance of a walking corpse was inwardly blaming Kendari for interrupting his final incantations.

  “Perhaps you can have her assistance from time to time Salah. Only if Balric does not behave or do as he is told, that is.” Johnas smiled his evil grin, his eyes of green to match the emerald gem of his sword beamed at the prisoners. “You may speak now, slaves.”

  “I have not told a soul of my findings here, and do not plan to. I wished simply to leave with Vanessa and be gone from here, I seek no trouble and threaten none, highness.” the swordsman spy pleaded with the sinister man for release he knew he would not get.

  “You attacked me, killed some of my men, and stole my woman. You love her, fine, I will allow that to factor in, since I do not love my whores.” he smiled as Balric spit on the floor and tried to run toward the throne in anger and rage. He was restrained by the guild members on guard easily by his chained hands behind his back. “And, you are a spy for the Bishop and Cardinal in Harlaheim. Even if you sent them no word or secret letter, they will come here to find you. Crossguard Legion with them or not, you are a spy, and they will seek to retrieve or silence you.”

  “So kill me then. Or face me with the blade again, and if I kill you, I am allowed to take Vanessa and leave. After I throw your corpse in the pit, that is.” his legs went numb from the second kidney blow with the club, his eyes squinting closed and teeth grinding to hold in a scream of anguish.

  “I already won that fight, if you remember.” Johnas received oohs and aahs from the thirty some members of the White Spider present.

  “I remember cutting down two of your men to get to you, and being stopped by Heathen as I had you down in the corner. Perhaps with no minotaur to save you, we could really-“

  This time, as more oohs than aahs echoed at Balric’s defying words, the club struck him on the back of the neck, knocking him to the ground. His nose hit the stone hard, unable to slow his fall with bound hands, he bled onto the black marble floor. Salah-Cam walked over to an alcove and lifted a large glass jar filled with green thick liquid. He carried it, lumbering and slow with rigid steps of the undying, then floated back up the steps. The rotten wizard set the jar on a small gold tablestand, and opened it. He reached his hand inside the smoking green vileness, and produced a platinum ring with two emeralds set in it, and handed it to the prince of Valhirst. Johnas stared at Salah in disgust.

  “Could you at least wipe it off?”

  “Yes, yes fine, of course.” Salah-Cam wiped the slime covered ring off on his rotted and moth eaten robes, and handed it once more to the patriarch of the White Spider, who reluctantly put it on. It shrunk comfortably to fit his pinkly finger.

  The decaying old man put his bony hand in the jar again, and removed a platinum necklace, thick and heavy which also had two small emeralds set on a small round disc that hung from the chain. He set down his staff, picked up the jar and floated down the steps to Balric. He placed the necklace over his head, and watched it too, shrink to a tight fit. Then he levitated to Vanessa, who began to scream and struggle. Salah waited until she was properly restrained, hovering in place. “Hold open her mouth please, please.”

  “No! you bastard, I will focking kill yo
u, right here you basta-“

  “Shut up, Balric! You are being disruptive to my viewing pleasures, manners please.” Johnas waited to see if it worked. He watched the man silence himself with just a simple command. The Harlian man was quiet, against his will, he spoke nothing. “It works well, Salah. Balric, come sit on the steps and be patient.”

  The swordsman spy struggled to his feet, walked over to the steps, feeling as though he must. He felt no conflict, just that it was the right thing to do. His mind went calm and peaceful for a moment, only thinking of sitting down where he was asked to. Balric watched with patience and calm he could not understand, as the green liquid was poured into Vanessa’s mouth.

  She choked and gagged, squirmed and twisted, but the foul old sorcerer managed to get much of the slime into her mouth, then the men forced her to swallow in order to breathe. As she began trying to vomit up what she could, her mind went cold and numb which slowed her emotions and feelings rapidly.

  “Hinvicartes encartes visir vilis de hishiriam!” Salah chanted in arcane tongues of forbidden spells, and smashed the slime covered jar on the marble floor. A green fog with the smell of sugar and flowers rose from Balrics necklace, the Prince’s ring, and from Vanessa Blackflame. All was quiet in the chamber, no one moved nor breathed a noise. “It is done, my prince. Let me show you.”

  “Guard, bring a prisoner from below, a healthy one if you would.” Johnas walked down to Vanessa, who looked dazed but still recoiled from the man who took her against her will so many times. “And bring up two blades as well.”

  The stocky human guard ran back up a few moments later into the silent chamber, two sabers in one hand, and pulling a bearded man with his left. The chains rattled across the floor, and the guard stopped halfway across the spider design, and held out the swords.

  “Balric, take a blade and defend me against anyone who threatens my precious life.” Johnas smiled, keeping one hand on Vanessa’s shoulder, and the other on the grip of his blade. The guard gave the weapon to Balric as he stepped forward nonchalantly. “Prisoner, if you wish to be free, all you must do is get past this man and make it to the girl or cut me.” Johnas smiled at the man, likely his own age, but years of a straggly beard and disheveled hair made him seem a bit out of place in the finely decorated chamber. A prisoner, in dire need of food by the looks of his ribs, but he cared not.

  Hands shaking, nervous and starving, the man took the saber and stared at Balric. The Harlian man looked confused, and it seemed he could just walk past him and get the twenty feet to the girl that Johnas held in front of him with ease. He did so, and casually walked with a slight tremble straight past Balric D’Vrelle. As he passed, the saber from the Harlian swordsman slowly rose, up to chest level, and rested gently on the prisoner’s rags. He simply shook his head, letting him know he was not to proceed. The prisoner looked around, then looked at Balric, then at the ten feet he had to go to win his freedom. He had been here in that cell for at least four years now he guessed, and would do anything to be free. He raised his left hand up to Balric’s shoulder, and pushed him back hard.

  The Harlian swordsman raised his blade, and cut out at the prisoner’s saber, disarming him surprisingly quick to all present. He remained still, as did the filthy bearded man before him. Balric stood there, thinking only of protecting Johnas Valhera, and moved slightly to position himself between the prince and the prisoner.

  A dirty hand picked the blade up from the floor, trembling from the silent spectacle he realized he had become in this chamber. Having some training decades ago with the saber, the prisoner held his breath and mustered his anger and courage as he went on guard. He let out a yell of hatred and bravado, and attacked the dark haired statue of a man in front of him. The sabers clashed for a short exchange or rudimentary attacks and parries, then Balric swept his blade high at the prisoner’s face. The captive bent on freedom rather than swordplay, made a rush under the cut and ran for the woman in the black robes. As he passed the harlian man, he felt the dig of cold steel in his back, through his ribs, and looked down to see the saber tip slowly pulling back from his chest as his body quivered and the veins in his neck tightened.

  Balric removed the blade from the man, allowing him to fall with his clattering blade to the stone floor. He also dropped his weapon, sensing no need to hold it any longer, his mind went to the woman he loved and walked toward her. His thoughts raced of having just killed a man for no reason, and he became disoriented. He saw Johnas holding Vanessa, and heard oohs and aahs from the surrounding dark clad criminals. He went for his lover, to hold her and take her away; her sad eyes stared back at his, just as confused.

  Johnas pulled her hair back hard, painfully, and watched as Balric’s hand went for his own head . He stopped as if someone were grabbing his hair as well, reaching to stop something that was not there, but felt real enough. “Excellent work Salah-Cam, most excellent for certain. But let us try something a bit more difficult. Guard, do we have five prisoners we can arm?”

  “Yes your highness, we have plenty of em.” the old agent of the White Spider scampered off to find more men he could dispose of from their cells.

  “My prince, I will need her mind and will to be free to assist me in the study and laboratory, so she will still be dangerous. However, since she knows that her pain also hurts Balric, her devotion should be guaranteed. The necklace cannot be removed, unless you remove the ring first, which only I can do. Now with an assistant, I can begin many more wondrous creations for you, yes many.” Salah looked at Vanessa with a mixture of lust and power knowing she would be spending much time with him. Her skills in the arcane would be invaluable to him, and besides the burns and scars on her face, he thought she was quite beautiful to have near him.

  “And I have a loyal bodyguard unlike any other. Balric D’Vrelle, I have much for you to do, oh so much.” Johnas sheathed his blade, and walked over to Vanessa and Salah.

  Johnas whispered. “First, my decaying friend, you have work outside the city to attend, yes?. Set up the old keep of Vrevvinok, west of Roricdale. It will need livestock and a degree of order to it for out little meeting. The emissaries should have delivered the chests of gold and messages to both Mun Parr queen of the trolls in the Hollowmoors and to Avegarne, plagued king of the ogre tribes under Arouland. We leave in two days to meet with them, and hopefully our ships will bring more doppelgangers from the Isle of Taberlo. Go and set up the keep, take five men with you. I will meet you there in seven days.” Johnas watched as five sickly prisoners were given sabers in the great chamber, and then Balric picked up his blade from the floor.

  “My prince, why is it that we seek to ally with Mun Parr and Avegarne? Surely they cannot be seen in a city or be kept hidden as members within the underground.” Salah-cam had looks of confusion across his rotting and dry face. He had met them and traded before, but now Johnas was doing much more than buying and selling. Salah wanted to know details.

  “It is I, Salah, who seek to meet with them. There is no we, mind your tongue or I will cut it out and throw it in the pit. And my allies are none of your concern, go to your studies, take Vanessa with you. And do not let me find out you have used her for anything besides an assistant to your work, old wretch. If you need a woman, you go and find one that will tickle your corpse, but not her and none of mine. You may be diseased, for you surely look and smell it. Now leave me.”

  “I will arrange the site for the meeting, but remember our deal prince. I gave gold and allies for protection and assistance in my works.”

  “And my plans take precedence over yours, our bargain is fair.”

  Johnas noticed a bow from the old wizard from the corner of his eye, as he had learned not to look at Salah. He had felt that overbearing weakness from his black misty gaze once, and once was enough. The Prince of Valhirst watched his scarred beauty be taken further below with the decaying sorcerer, and rested back on his throne of onyx and gold. He felt a bit more secure with some of his bodies replaced, at le
ast here in his city. Johnas got comfortable in his throne, ready to watch Balric cut these men apart to protect him.

  As he raised his hand to get everyone’s attention, he noticed a glow from the thick mahogany table to his right. The warlock mirrors were inside, and he had been waiting for word from both Harlaheim and Devonmir. It had been days since Florin or Rinicus checked in, and still nothing from Kaya T’Vellon. He was anxious to know what news was travelling in through the arcane devices, but was just as curious about his new personal swordsman he had made out of Balric. “Send for Vanessa Blackflame to return, it would be most refreshing and sentimental for the woman to read the mirrors once more, don’t you think?!”

  The gathered agents and members of the White Spider all laughed in approval at the statement, for none would dare say nay to Johnas to begin with.

  “But first, let us see how master D’vrelle here does in saving his beloved prince from certain doom. Men, if you make it past this one single man and reach my throne, you will be set free. Balric, if they reach the throne, I will be forced to keep you from seeing Vanessa for an entire month. Begin!” Johnas laughed as he clapped his hands together, knowing full well that not one of them had a chance, even in a mob rush. He had found his ultimate assassin and bodyguard, out of the least likely of circumstances. Johnas smiled wickedly, enjoying the poetic and tragic irony of it all. The agent of the church who became a spy who would now be an assassin for his once target, he laughed outloud at the thoughts of how much this man would kill for him. The blood ran the floor red, over and over, as the prince’s new killer fought to protect him with his very life, and with his very deadly skill with a sword, all against his own will. Now for the first moment, Johnas felt the deal with Salah would pay off.