Victory and Defeat: Book Five of the Restoration Series

by Williams, Christopher

  It had only been several moments since Jasmine entered the room, and she stood there mute; staring wide-eyed at her lord.

  Zalustus smiled and climbed to his feet. “I’m told that you are quite late. I trust that nothing bad has occurred?”

  Jasmine blinked and found her voice, although her surprise was clearly evident. “My lord! I had no idea you were coming to Elem.”

  Zalustus’s face showed a tick of irritation and he repeated his query, though in a different form, “Why are you late?”

  Jasmine swallowed hard. “Forgive me, but I was surprised at your appearance.” She took a steadying breath and then opened her mouth to speak. She paused, smiling inwardly at the revelation she had to share. “My lord, I have wonderful news. Some of Flare’s fellow Guardians are in the city.”

  Zalustus returned to the middle couch and sat down. He did not ask Jasmine to join him. “And you think that is good news? You think it good that Flare’s comrades are here?”

  Jasmine smiled. “Oh yes. The traitor Keenan is with them.”

  Silence settled around the room, and Jasmine watched Zalustus carefully. She could feel the hate-filled eyes of the others upon her. Ocklamoor might have been the thing that Zalustus craved most, but Keenan wasn’t far behind.

  Mentioning Keenan’s name caused Zalustus to momentarily go rigid, but he relaxed after a moment. He took a deep breath and smiled cruelly.

  Jasmine took Zalustus’s smile as a positive sign. “I spotted Keenan and an old hag. My guess is that the woman was the whore priestess disguised. They entered the abbey and attended a service. I waited for them to finish, and then I followed them to their inn.”

  “Did he spot you?” Fantin asked.

  “Of course not!” Jasmine snapped, irritated that Fantin had intruded on her moment of victory. Her eyes flicked over to the swordsman, and she saw the jealousy in both Fantin and Kaleb’s eyes; they knew she had scored a major victory.

  Zalustus took another deep breath. “I have spent many a night planning how I will repay Keenan’s betrayal.” The words were spoken out loud, but not to anyone in particular. Zalustus smile grew warm and he patted the couch beside him. “Come, sit here beside me.”

  Smiling and flushed, Jasmine hastened to obey. She stopped just short of the couch and glanced to her right. “I thought Eli and Seeda would be in Saprasia by now,” she said.

  Zalustus’s smile disappeared. “They were in Saprasia and both failed me miserably.”

  The words cheered Jasmine to her core; there were two less contenders for Zalustus’s favor. “And what of Baylan and Nolan? Where are they?”

  Jasmine’s words caused Eli to look up; the anger in his gaze was unmistakable.

  “Eli managed to get them killed,” Zalustus said casually. “Of more importance to me, he managed to let Flare have the armor.”

  Jasmine gasped in horror, both genuine and feigned. It was horrible that Flare now had Ossendar and Nerandall, but then again, two of her fellow lieutenants were in complete disgrace.

  “I don’t understand,” Jasmine said after a moment. “If they were in Saprasia, how did they get here so quickly?”

  “I used wizardry,” Zalustus said, rather matter-of-factly.

  Jasmine gasped out loud again and she gazed in adoration at Zalustus. “You are the one,” she breathed, almost too low to be heard.

  Zalustus gazed at her for a moment and then asked, “Have you found Ocklamoor, or any sign where it might be?”

  Just like that, all of her warm feelings and hopes disappeared. “No, my lord.”

  “How is it that we cannot find Ocklamoor when it is hidden in such a small and insignificant hole as Elem?” Zalustus demanded angrily.

  “I have an idea, my lord,” Kaleb said into the sudden silence.

  Every face turned to watch the magician and Jasmine suddenly grew worried. Zalustus wanted Keenan, but he wanted Ocklamoor more. If Kaleb was able to provide him with the shield, then her newfound place of prominence might be in jeopardy.

  Kaleb did not wilt under the intense stares; instead, he seemed to flourish. He scooted forward and sat on the edge of the couch. “I suggest we do something similar here as to what we did in Eled Aminor. Let the Guardians tire themselves searching for the shield, and once they find it, we take it from them.” He paused and smiled in Jasmine’s direction. “And the traitor Keenan as well.”

  Zalustus did not respond immediately, but instead considered the magician’s proposal.

  Apprehension burst through Jasmine at Kaleb’s suggestion, and she struggled vainly for a solution. If his plan worked, then it would be to Kaleb’s credit, but if it failed, then the blame could be laid at her feet. She could see Kaleb smiling at her discomfort.

  “No,” Zalustus said suddenly.

  In the blink of an eye, Kaleb’s smile vanished. “No, my lord?”

  Zalustus shook his head and repeated himself. “No.” He leaned back in his seat and glanced to where Seeda and Eli sat. His expression grew angrier by the moment. “Now that Eli has lost Nerandall, I cannot let Flare have another one of the signs. We must take Ocklamoor quickly before they discover where it’s hidden.”

  Jasmine silently breathed a sigh of relief. Kaleb had nearly trapped her with his plan; perhaps it was time to take steps against the man.

  “But we do not know where it’s hidden either,” Kaleb said.

  Jasmine would gladly have killed the man right then, as he seemed to be eager to point out her failures, but she held her tongue.

  Zalustus looked to Jasmine. “After this long, are we any closer to locating the shield?”

  Swallowing hard, Jasmine shook her head. “No, my lord.” Struck by sudden inspiration, she threw a bit of suspicion back at Kaleb. “In fact, we’re not even sure it’s in Elem. All we have is the vague clue that Kaleb found in the ancient priest’s diary: Ocklamoor is in Elem, guarded by the God Adel. Even if the diary was correct, the shield could have been moved long ago.”

  Kaleb glowered at her but said nothing.

  Zalustus smiled at her, as if reading her thoughts. “No, I believe that Kaleb’s research is valid. The shield should be here. We just have to find it.” He was silent for several moments and considered. “Perhaps it’s time that I personally get involved.” He placed a hand on Jasmine’s shoulder. “You and I need to do some planning. I want you to give Fantin directions to their inn, and then you and I will retire to the library.” His gaze shifted to Fantin. “Go watch them. Take Elber with you, and keep me informed of their movements.”

  Chapter 11

  Derek was awake well before the sun came up. He was anxious about going to the abbey, but it was also exciting. He felt like he had been hiding in the small room at the inn for weeks. If he was being truthful, he was more afraid of the potion that Enstorion had brewed for him than of going to the abbey.

  He dressed quietly, trying not to wake Trestus. Trestus had been out with Keenan until just a few hours ago and had given a slightly slurred report when he had come in. Apparently, he had been forced to carry the Prince of Tizen back to the inn. It was a good thing that Trestus had gone along or Keenan might be out to sea right now.

  Derek dressed in loose-fitting trousers and shirt. He wasn’t sure how much the potion would alter his appearance, but he expected the clothes would expand as needed. He also carried an oiled cloak. The rain was already falling lightly, and from the window, he could see dark storm clouds coming in from the sea. It was going to be a wet and miserable day.

  He felt naked without his sword, but it would be foolish to try carry it into the abbey, so he settled for taking a long belt knife. It wouldn’t be much use in a fight, but he felt better just for having it.

  Trestus was still snoring as Derek stepped out into the hall and closed the door behind him.

  The room that Enstorion and Keenan shared was just down the hall and Derek reached it in moments. He tapped softly on the door and tried the handle; it was unlocked. The door swung silent
ly open, and he looked in on a room almost identical to the one he shared with Trestus. Keenan was passed out on the bed along the right side of the room, and Enstorion sat cross-legged on his bed with his back leaning against the wall. Just to the left of the door, a small fire burned. For just a moment Derek thought the floor was on fire. Looking closer, he realized that even though the fire sat upon the wooden floor boards, the wood hadn’t so much as darkened; it had to be some sort of magical fire. Over the fire rested a metal pot in which an ugly green liquid bubbled.

  Derek stopped and stared at the liquid. He looked up in time to catch the smirk on Enstorion’s face. “You’re enjoying this?”

  Enstorion momentarily looked surprised and then he nodded. “Yes.”

  Grimacing, Derek looked down into the pot. “How long will this last?”

  “Hard to say, exactly,” Enstorion said.

  Derek knew the elf was lying to him. The elf had a cruel streak, and he was delighting in his fellow’s torment.

  Enstorion uncrossed his legs and stood up. He picked up a small mug off the table and scooped a liberal amount of the green liquid into the mug. Smiling, he offered the cup to Derek.

  Derek took the cup and raised it to his lips.

  “Careful!” Enstorion said quickly, and Derek lowered the cup again. “That’s still boiling. I’d let it cool first.”

  Surprised, Derek looked down and saw the steam rising up from the mug. He looked back to Enstorion, even more surprised that the elf had stopped him. “Was that concern I heard in your voice?”

  Enstorion’s eyes went blank. “Of course it is,” he said finally. “I would hate for you to besmirch my reputation by saying my potion hurt you.”

  “Thanks,” Derek said, and quietly left the room.

  Somewhat disgruntled, Derek walked carefully down the hallway so as to not spill any of the vile potion.

  Once again he tapped softly on the door, but this time he waited and did not open it; women could be so touchy about those types of things.

  After a few moments, the door opened and Kara peeked out. She grinned and stepped back, letting Derek enter the room. He stepped in, immensely pleased to see that Kara looked like her normal self. With any luck, he would look normal by tomorrow morning.

  The room that Leela and Kara shared was bigger, with two oversized beds along the opposite walls. In addition, there were two small desks with mirrors and a large wardrobe.

  Leela sat at one of the desks. She wore a long dark-green dress that was faded and worn; it would fit in perfectly with the pilgrims. She smiled as Derek entered the room. “You still look like yourself.”

  He held the mug up in mock salute, and then lowered it again, trying hard not to grimace. “It was boiling and he told me to wait a bit.”

  “Want a bit of advice?” Kara asked, but she didn’t wait to hear Derek’s reply. “Don’t sip it. Instead, I suggest you just turn it up and swallow it all at once.”

  “You’re as bad as the elf,” he said after a moment. “You’re enjoying this. Aren’t you?”

  Kara’s reply was a deep laugh. She laughed so hard she had to hold her stomach.

  Derek had to admit hearing the woman laugh sounded good. She hadn’t laughed much over the last several months.

  “We really should be going soon,” Leela said.

  Derek nodded and guessing the potion was cool enough, he turned the mug up and drank it down as fast as possible. He tried not to taste it, but he couldn’t help it. The potion simply tasted awful, and it was all he could do not to gag. Finishing it, he set the mug down on one of the tables and concentrated on keeping the potion down.

  The urge to vomit soon passed, but still he didn’t feel good. His neck began to hurt and he tried to stretch it, only to realize his neck wouldn’t turn like it was supposed to. He turned to look in the mirror and wished he hadn’t. He was now humped over, his back swollen and twisted. His face was swollen, flushed, and covered with three large boils. It was hard to tell, but even his eyes looked milky.

  “Oh Gods!” he said, looking in horror at the strange image that stared back from the mirror.

  “Not very pleasant. Is it?” Kara asked, leaning in over his shoulder. Strangely, she now seemed leery of touching him.

  Derek considered saying something that he might regret later, but changed his mind at the last moment. Kara had gone through this yesterday; he could endure it today, and that included being mocked.

  He ignored Kara and stood up. He nearly let out a yelp of pain, but just did manage to resist; his neck was tender and he needed to move gingerly.

  “Are you all right?” Kara asked. She looked genuinely concerned now and Derek suddenly realized that she was treating him better than he had treated her the day before.

  “I’m fine,” he said and smiled. Judging by the look of disgust on her face, his new appearance was as horrifying as hers had been.

  Leela stood from her chair and picked up a cloak. “Come on, we’d better get started.”

  Derek and Leela were slowed by his disguise. Whatever the potion had done, his neck and shoulders were legitimately sore, and he hobbled along at a slow pace. Their slow progress was mirrored by that of a host of other deformed and crippled people, all making their own way toward the abbey. This was actually a positive as they blended well into the dawdling crowd.

  It took them just over an hour to reach the abbey gates, and then they were funneled through into the courtyard beyond. Like Kara and Keenan the day before, they found it less than impressive.

  They walked around the small courtyard, observing the small and insignificant structures. It did not take long for them to come to the same conclusion reached by Kara and Keenan: the shield must be one of those in the temple.

  They worked their way over to the temple steps; there was already a small group of people waiting, and Derek and Leela merged in with them. They only had to wait for a little while before the temple doors were opened and a mass of people streamed out. The group around the steps surged forward toward the temple, but a priest in a white cassock stepped forward and raised his hands. A guard stood to either side of the priest.

  “My good people, you are welcome to enter the temple, but the next service will not start for an hour. Brother Jarvis has just completed the second service of the day and he needs to rest before he conducts another.” A bit of grumbling started up, but the priest just talked louder. “You may, of course, enter the temple and wait.”

  Derek and Leela entered the temple with the others. While most of the group rushed forward to grab seats, they did not. Derek stared up in wonder at the shields that hung on the walls. Kara had not been exaggerating — there were shields of all sizes, shapes, and color.

  Derek spent several minutes doing a slow motion study of each shield. Most he could dismiss quickly as they were too plain or possibly dented. He couldn’t imagine some shield of prophecy having dents through the middle. Some of the shields were made of wood and were in a horrible state or repair; these he also dismissed rather easily. It was the rest of the shields that gave him difficulty — square metal shields, circular metal shields — there were even two in the shape of a figure-eight.

  After a bit, he spotted a shield hanging directly above the priest’s podium. The shield was in the shape of a rectangle, taller than it was wide. The two vertical sides were bent back so as to wrap around the person carrying it. It truly was beautiful. It was made of iron or steel with the outside edges of gold. There appeared to be a ruby set high toward the top of the shield.

  Derek glanced around, making sure that no one could hear him. “It has to be the one over the podium.”

  Leela stared up at the shield for several long moments and then she turned back. “Why?”

  “Well, it is in the place of prominence, and I have no reason to think it’s any of the other shields.” He spoke quietly, making sure no one was paying them any extra attention.

  A look of incredulity spread across Leela’s face. “Yo
u’re guessing?”

  Derek shrugged, immediately regretting it, as pain erupted through his shoulder and neck. He gritted his teeth for a moment and the pain slowly subsided. “Do you have a better idea?” he asked slowly.

  “No,” she admitted after a moment. She didn’t like the thought of possibly picking the wrong shield by accident. They probably wouldn’t get a second chance if they picked wrong.

  Just then, a peal of thunder shook the temple and it pulled every eye in the half-filled church to the still open doors. The dark clouds that Derek had noticed earlier were moving in quick. The slow, steady rain was beginning to pick up.

  “Let’s go,” Derek said.

  Leela looked surprised. “Already?” she asked.

  “There’s nothing more we can do here. Let’s go back to the inn and discuss this with the others.”

  They retraced their steps back through the abbey’s courtyard and out the gates. It seemed they had no sooner passed outside the abbey’s walls when the heavens opened up and the rain really began to fall. Still, most of the travelers on the road were headed to the abbey; Derek and Leela were in the minority of those who were headed back to Elem.

  The trip back to their inn actually took longer than it had in the morning. The rain made everything slippery, so they had to exercise caution, and they were now going against the majority of traffic.

  Despite their oiled cloaks, they arrived at their inn almost completely soaked. The wind was picking up and it was driving the rain almost sideways. They left their cloaks downstairs and quickly went to their rooms and changed. Derek was horrified to see that the potion had caused boils all over his body.

  Within a quarter of an hour of reaching the inn, they were all changed and regrouped in Leela and Heather’s room. Trestus, Enstorion, and Kara were alert and eager for the discussion, but Keenan lay on the floor. He was pale, sweaty, and looked like he might be sick at any moment.

  “Well?” Kara burst out as Derek walked gingerly through the door.

  Derek looked to Leela. She had beaten him here, but had apparently held her tongue. He could tell that she didn’t like his idea of picking the shield in the place of honor as Ocklamoor, but he didn’t know what else to do. He shrugged, and immediately cursed himself silently. He kept forgetting about the pain in his neck and shoulders. “The shield directly above the podium must be Ocklamoor.”