He let the cries among the crowd build. The royal guards had to struggle to keep some of the other nobles back. Ewzad reached out with his magic and caressed the seeds of power he had placed within the bound men the night before. The seeds had ripened, matching the bodies they inhabited. He tightened his fist and the four men lurched in unison.
He turned to Hamford and Arcon and whispered. “Guard Elise, you fools!” The two men shuffled to stand at either side of her, but Ewzad erected a protective shield around her anyway before turning back to gaze at the bound men.
“Cut their gags free!” Ewzad commanded the guards below. “Yes-yes, let them speak in their defense. See if their foul words can convince us!”
The moment the gags fell away, the seeds of power sprouted. Before the noblemen could speak, their bodies began to swell. The ropes binding them burst free.
Nudro, the leader of House Pross sprouted great horns from his head. His tongue swelled and grew from his open mouth sprouting suckers and undulating like a reaching tentacle. Tombas, the leader of House Stots sprouted buzzing wings and his face hardened as if carved of stone.
“No-no-no! They’re after the queen!” Ewzad shouted. “Protect the queen!”
The mutated noblemen, confused and horrified by their sudden transformations, flailed about and let out horrible cries. The crowd screamed and backed away. Many ran. The royal guard, trained by academy graduates and made of sterner stuff, did not break ranks. They drew their swords and advanced on the mutated men.
Stensil, the leader of House Roma, now a four legged hairy beast whose head was that of a falcon with red eyes and flames pouring from its mouth, leapt to the top of the platform, Ewzad in his sights.
Ewzad smiled and pulled a jeweled sabre from the belt at his waist. He had been hoping this would happen. Let the people see what a hero he was. He pointed the sword at the beast and shouted. “For Queen Elise and Dremaldria!”
Stensil leapt at him, opening a beak filled with flames. Ewzad wasn’t a swordsman, but he had been trained in the basics as a young boy as all noblemen were. He paralyzed the beast with one writhing hand, then spun and swung the sword down. As the sword touched its forehead, Ewzad sliced with his magic. Elise yelped as the former head of House Roma fell into two pieces and his body began smoking.
“The wizards!” he shouted. “Yes, the wizards are behind this!”
He surveyed the scene below. The guards had managed to kill the leader of House Tensow, who had become a slug-like creature. But Tombas of Stots was hovering above them with his buzzing wings. His upper body was carved from living stone and his lower half had become a swollen black abdomen with spider’s legs,
“Bowmen!” Ewzad cried. “Kill it! Kill it! Shoot it! Don’t let it reach the queen!”
Tombas tried to escape, but his heavy body was barely held aloft by his wings and the best he could manage was to bob through the air slowly hovering over the screaming masses of spectators. Arrows arched towards him, some missing completely and striking innocents below, others bouncing off the stone-like skin of his upper body. His lower half was not as well protected though, and the arrows easily pierced it.
He let out a keening, buzzing cry and struggled to rise higher in the air, but the next volley of arrows found their mark and he plummeted to the ground. His swollen body burst upon contact with the street below.
Ewzad turned his attention to his final victim. Nudro of Pross screeched up at him from the street below, the bodies of royal guards strewn about him. The beady eyes on his horned head were filled with rage. His body had become a twisted mix of spikes and armored plates.
“For Queen Elise and Dremaldria!” Ewzad cried once again and he leapt off the platform towards the beast. His leap was propelled by magic and the blade of his sword shone as if forged in the sun. He arced through the air, surrounding the beast with a cloud of steam and when Ewzad struck him, he ignited the noble from within.
When Ewzad emerged from the cloud of steam, he carried the melted remains of Nudro Pross’ head. Many of the crowd that remained cried out in praise at Ewzad’s heroism. Others cried out in horror, but Ewzad was confident that the tale of his greatness would spread.
He climbed back to the top of the platform where Elise stood with a hand to her mouth, her face pale. He then turned and hurled Nudro’s head to the street below. “This will not stand, no! No it won’t!” His voice carried throughout the city Dremald and into the countryside around. “There will be retaliation, yes! AS LONG AS I PROTECT THE QUEEN, THE WIZARDS WILL NOT RULE DREMALDRIA!!”
As his voice faded into the air, he took Elise’s arm and headed back towards the palace, Hamford and Arcon at his side, the ranks of royal guards clustered protectively around them.
“Y-you were magnificent, my husband.” Elise whispered and Ewzad could feel her trembling. “But why didn’t you tell me your plans? We could have used others. Wh-why I nearly had Nudro Pross convinced to join our side and House Roma had always backed me.”
“Yes-yes, I know. I know, dearest, but doesn’t that make it even better?” Ewzad said with a giggle. “The nobles know who our backers are, don’t they? Will this not make my story all the more believable? My performance that much more real? Why would we strike our own supporters, hmm? Unless the wizard conspiracy is real and pervasive, don’t you think?”
“I see,” Elise blinked in surprise, and looked at him with a mix of respect, admiration, and horror. “This no longer becomes about houses vying for power in Dremald.”
“Yes! You see, don’t you? This is Dremaldria versus the Mage School!” He giggled.
“Very good, Master,” Mellinda said from inside his mind. “Even I sometimes forget you aren’t the foppish fool you seem. Your speech was even half convincing. I imagine the peasants will make it sound much grander when they spread the word of it.”
Ewzad’s smile faded. “What is it, witch? Yes, why must you disturb me now at the day of my crowning?”
“The warriors are planning something,” she said. “I believe they plan to strike out against us somehow. They have been arguing with the wizards for weeks about it, but I think they have finally come to a resolution.”
“Well, what is it?” he spat. “What do they plan?”
“It is hard to say,” she said reluctantly. “My sources inside the walls of the school have been thinned.”
“Thinned? And how has that happened, Mellinda?”
The witch simmered over him saying her name aloud. “The eyes belonging to my highest ranking spies have been destroyed. I believe my spies have been captured. I know where at least some of them are being held.”
Ewzad scowled. “Is your information useless now, then?”
“Far from it, master,” she said. “I have learned some very important things. First, whatever the warriors have planned, it will happen tomorrow. I have fortified my forest, but your men must be prepared.”
“Very well. Tell them then, yes?” he said.
“Secondly, it seems that the Mage School has a spy of their own. They have been made aware of certain things; things only one closest to you would have known. For instance, not only do they know that your wife is pregnant, but one of my sources overheard that they also know she will have twins.”
“How could they know this?” Ewzad snapped, coming to a stop in front of the palace doors. He had kept that information quiet. Certainly no one could know, but perhaps Hamford and Arcon.
“What is it?” Elise asked, but Ewzad ignored her.
“You may not remember spilling this secret, but you do have loose lips, master,” Mellinda chided. “You have mentioned this fact several times within the palace walls. ‘how are my babies, love?’, ‘Come, let me feel the twinnly twins, Elise.’” She snorted, “There are servants everywhere here and they love to gossip amongst themselves. If the Mage School has even one spy in the palace, they could know many things.”
“Then you send Arcon around with one of your eyes,” he said through clenched
teeth. “Test every maid, servant, and guard in the palace until you find them!”
“Of course,” she purred. “I live to serve you, Master.”
Arcon stumbled suddenly and he gave a bow. “I-I will get on it right away, my king,” the mage said and hurried away.
“My feet are tired, dear husband.” Elise said, tugging his arm, her face concerned, as it usually was when she was listening to his side of an argument with the witch. She gestured through the open doors towards the end of the throne room where he saw that a second throne matching the queen’s had been added to the dais. “Can we sit?”
“Of course, my queen,” Ewzad said, his grin returning. Yes, he couldn’t let Mellinda’s trifling words muddy his day of triumph, now, could he? They entered the throne room and climbed the steps to the dais together.
As they sat next to each other on their plush thrones, Ewzad laughed. He kissed Elise’s hand. Now they ruled as husband and wife. Soon they would usher in the return of the Dark Prophet. And then they would conquer the rest of the lands; Ewzad and Elise Vriil, together.
“And now?” Mellinda said. “What would you have me do about the Mage School?”
“I think it is time we sent the wizards a message, don’t you? Yes-yes, my new creations need to stretch their legs,” he said with a wicked grin. “Send me five of your orange eyes, dear Mellinda. Without sweet Talon here, you will need to guide them for me.”
“With pleasure . . . my king,” Mellinda said.
“Has sweet Clara found Talon’s trail yet?” he asked.
“She is close.”
“When she does, have her tell Talon that I need her back right away. Yes-yes, right away,” he said.
“And when Talon returns, what shall you do?” Mellinda asked.
“As I promised, don’t you think? Yes, I shall place an eye in her as well. We mustn’t have her running free again.”
“As you command,” Mellinda said and Ewzad could tell she was very pleased. Yes, very pleased indeed.
Chapter Sixteen
I envy you your battle, Deathclaw said.
Oh? Justan asked from his soft bed, feeling guilty knowing that Deathclaw was resting in the branches of a tree. He reminded himself that the raptoid liked sleeping in trees. And why?
We are three days from Pinewood. The moonrats and trolls are thick here, but Hilt will not let us fight. We must travel slowly to avoid them, Deathclaw grumbled. At least we travel during the day now instead of at night.
Please listen to him, Justan sent. Hilt knows tactics as well as anyone.
It is sound strategy, Deathclaw replied. But it is tedious. All this hiding and sneaking, just to obtain some flavoring.
Pepper is poison to trolls, Deathclaw.
I know this, the raptoid replied. And yet I would rather be with you, scouting ahead.
I would rather have you here as well, Justan said and smiled. There seemed to be true affection in the raptoid’s thoughts. Deathclaw had changed so much in the last five months since they had bonded.
A raptoid is always loyal to its pack, Deathclaw said. He had fallen back into the practice of monitoring Justan’s inner thoughts again lately. Affection is a human emotion that has nothing to do with it.
Oh, come on, I know you miss Fist, and riding with Gwyrtha, Justan said. Don’t worry, they miss you too. Gwyrtha mentions it at least once a day.
I . . . Deathclaw paused, unsure how to respond to Justan’s teasing.
Don’t worry, I’ll tell them you miss them, Justan said.
I will speak to you again tomorrow, Deathclaw replied with irritation and his thoughts faded from the bond.
Justan chuckled and sat up. There was no use trying to go back to sleep. It would be daybreak soon. He dressed and strapped on his swords. He was staying with his parents in one of the visitor houses near the front gate. His mother had commandeered it when she first arrived. It was small, with just two bedrooms and a small sitting room with a table and chairs. Darlan had grumbled a few times about its lack of a stove, but the wizards always fed their guests lavishly and likely figured one wasn’t necessary.
Justan would have preferred boarding elsewhere. He hadn’t been comfortable staying separately from his bonded and especially in a house with his parents. It seemed a step backwards. But Fist was staying with the other Mage School students in the Rune Tower and Gwyrtha was in the stables. Besides, once Darlan made up her mind, there was no changing it.
He slung Ma’am over his shoulder and headed into the sitting room. There were a few apples in a bowl on the small table and as Justan sat down to munch on one, the door to his parent’s room opened.
“Morning, son. I’m surprised I didn’t have to wake you,” Faldon said.
Justan shook his head. “Not when we have a fight ahead of us.”
Faldon was dressed for battle, wearing his short sleeved chainmail shirt under a scalemail vest and iron bracers, while the long pommel of his sword, The Monarch, rose from behind his right shoulder. Darlan followed him into the room, wearing rich robes of red and black that Justan had never seen before.
She saw him staring. “These are my war wizard’s robes.”
“She was wearing those the first time I saw her,” Faldon said. He sat in the chair across from Justan and smacked Darlan’s rump. “Still just as stunning now as she was then.”
Justan smiled. This was the kind of morning banter he remembered as a child when his father was home. “I think you look great, mother.”
She did, too. Living at the Mage School seemed to be good for her. Her face was fair and vibrant, her hair shining. If Justan didn’t know better, he would think she was ten years younger.
“Why thank you, dear,” Darlan said and kissed his cheek. “See, this is why I wanted you to stay with us. Why, I couldn’t possibly kiss your cheek with your friends around, now could I?”
“Definitely not.” He took a bite from the apple and savored the sweet and complex flavor. That was one benefit from his bond with Deathclaw. Everything tasted so much better. “These apples are almost as good as the apples in the elf homeland. You can almost feel the energy entering your body.”
“The Mage School gardens are made of soil from elven homelands, dear,” Darlan reminded. “Why else do you think the wizards here live so long?”
“Right.” Qyxal had told him that once. Justan wondered if the food was what made his mother look so youthful. If so, his father hadn’t had nearly the same benefit.
“Don’t eat just that apple, son,” Faldon said as he grabbed one for himself. He bit into it. “We have a major battle ahead of us and you’ll need all the energy you can get.”
“I’ll head down to the dining hall, then,” Justan said and stood from the seat. “I’ll see you in an hour or so.”
Justan headed out to find Jhonate. He jogged past the line of tents and tethered horses that belonged to Captain Demetrius’ cavalry. She was staying in the guard barracks with the other female warriors, but if he knew her, she would already be up and exercising in the training area.
Justan! Several horses reared as Gwyrtha bounded past them, sliding to a stop at Justan’s feet. Ride!
Justan scratched behind her horse-like ears. “I’m just going over to see Jhonate,” he said, Gesturing to the training area less than a hundred yards away.
But we must ride, Justan.
“I know we haven’t had the chance to ride much since we’ve been here.” There were no open spaces to ride in. In truth, they hadn’t been able to spend much time together at all. Gwyrtha was finding their stay at the Mage School boring. She spent most of her time with the elves in the Mage School Forest. “Hey, but we ride today. The big battle, remember?”
We ride and we fight, she agreed happily.
“Right. Why don’t you go find Fist and bring him to the dining hall for me?” Justan said, knowing that Fist was already awake. From the direction of the bond, Justan could tell that the ogre was just leaving the Rune Tower. Fist was lik
ely heading for the dining hall anyway, but it would at least give Gwyrtha something to do.
Fist! Come to the food place! Gwyrtha sent.
Okay, Fist replied.
He is coming, she told Justan.
“Good . . . Thank you, Gwyrtha,” Justan said and sighed. So much for alone time with Jhonate, “Alright, come with me.”
The guards’ training area was out behind the barracks and against the wall. The other academy students were just getting up, most of them going about their business tiredly, but as he had expected, Jhonate was in the training yard working with her Jharro staff. Her personal warm up was a dazzling mix of staff work, spear work, and sword work, her staff changing forms as she moved. Despite the hour, she already had a handful of wide-eyed student observers.
Justan and Gwyrtha waited for her to finish and come their way. A short time later, she jogged over to them, a sheen of sweat on her brow. “Good morning, Justan,” she said quietly when she knew no one was close enough to hear.
“Good morning,” he said and kissed her. It was a short kiss. She had begun to allow a certain amount of affection to be seen in public, but she still kept tight reigns on what was allowed.
Gwyrtha nudged her. Morning! Ride, Jhonate?
“She wants to know-.” Justan began.
“No, Gwyrtha,” Jhonate said. “I do not wish to ride this morning. We are preparing for battle.”
I am waiting, Fist said. The ogre had arrived at the dining hall already and was standing in line.
Just a minute, Justan sent. He looked at Jhonate. “Fist is at the dining hall already. Have you eaten?”
“I have not.” Jhonate said. “Tell him I need three eggs and some hot porridge.”
We’ll be there in a minute, Fist. Can you get our food for us? Justan asked.
The ogre let out a frustrated sigh. Again? They already look at me like I eat too much. When I tell them some of it’s for you, they think I’m lying.
Please? Justan asked.
Fine, the ogre grumped.
Justan told him what they wanted and walked with Jhonate towards the dining hall. Gwyrtha pranced along behind them as they discussed the morning’s plans.
The Bowl of Souls: Book 05 - Mother of the Moonrat Page 21
