by Sam Ferguson
She reached out, beckoning for him to come to her. He studied the large, round glass ball on her table. He had heard about fortune-tellers from his mother many times while growing up. She had told him that many were no better than common thieves, but that every once in a while it was possible to find an authentic seer and gain the advantage in life. Perhaps this was a sign that his luck was turning for the better. He walked forward and stopped in the tent’s opening.
“Eldrik, I have been waiting for you,” the woman said.
“How did you know my name?” he asked.
She curled her finger, motioning for him to step inside. He did so and the tent flaps unfurled, closing the opening behind him. “I know many things,” she said slyly. “I also know why you are here.”
Eldrik regarded her curiously. “Alright then, why is it that I am here?”
“You wish to avenge your father’s murder,” she said. “I can help you with that.”
Eldrik’s mouth fell open and his hand trembled as he reached out to take the seat in front of him. “Who are you?” he asked.
She smiled and pulled a curved knife from under the table and placed it in front of her. She then waved her arms and cloudy mists swirled through the glass ball on the table. “The senate tribunal will not end Lord Lokton’s life. He will escape. You will be able to find him in an alley near a well. Wait for him there. You may use your father’s crossbow, but be sure to also use this knife if you wish to restore your family’s honor.”
Eldrik looked at the knife, then he glanced to the woman’s smiling face. How could she know so much? Could she be telling the truth? He reached forward and took the knife in his hand. “What do you want from me?”
The woman laughed and shook her head. “I want only to make things right.” She waved her left hand and Eldrik felt himself falling away, as if the ground swallowed him. A moment later he found himself sitting on a small wooden stool next to a pile of crates. He looked around, trying to get his bearings. A horse and cart moved away from before him and as it disappeared behind a building Eldrik spied a large well made of stone. He slid his hand and went to stand up but stopped when he heard something hit the dirt below. Eldrik looked down and saw the knife the fortune teller had given him.
He bent down to pick it up and then glanced up and down the alley. He tucked the knife into his belt and crouched down by the crates to wait for his target.
*****
“Sir, wait here and I will go check the well,” Braun said.
Lord Lokton nodded and stepped back into the alleyway. He watched Braun pull a cowl over his face and walk out into the square. He wiped the sweat from his face and rubbed his wrists. His skin still stung from the iron cuffs he had been trapped in. He ran his fingers over his dented skin and sighed.
“So, she was right after all,” a voice said from the shadows.
Trenton looked up and peered into the darkness. The setting sun had begun to cast long shadows in the alleys and behind buildings. He could only make out a pair of legs and most of a torso. Judging by the voice and the person’s stature, it was a young man. “Who’s there?” Trenton asked. “Erik?”
The voice laughed. “No, I’m not your son,” he said. The legs stepped forward to reveal Eldrik Cedreau’s face. “You should be hanging from the gallows for what you have done.”
“Eldrik,” Trenton said. “I haven’t done anything.”
“Tell that to my brother, and my father,” Eldrik retorted.
Trenton held up his hands and patted the air. “Your father and I have had our differences, but I would never have allowed my men to attack your house. You have my word.”
“Your word,” Eldrik repeated with a curt nod. He sucked in his lower lip and glanced over his shoulder briefly. “Your word won’t heal the hole in my mother’s heart. It won’t replace my father, and it won’t bring back my brother.”
“Eldrik, listen,” Trenton stopped short as a pain ripped through his chest. He coughed and sputtered, staggered sideways and reflexively moved his hand up. He looked down when his fingers bumped into something hard sticking out of his chest. His eyes nearly fell out of his head when he saw the shaft of a crossbow bolt protruding from his body.
“Now, we are even,” Eldrik said as he stepped closer. “Don’t bother trying to yell for your bodyguard. I dipped the tip in the venom of a tree viper. You are as good as dead.”
“I didn’t kill your family,” Trenton said.
“One more thing,” Eldrik said quietly as he leaned in close. “I want you to know that I will find your son, and I will kill him. There is nothing you can do about it.” Eldrik drove the dagger up into Lord Lokton’s side, just under the ribs. Eldrik pulled the dagger back.
Trenton opened his mouth, but his strength was already fading. His vision blurred and he slid down to his rump. He barely noticed Eldrik walk away as a fever gripped him and burned him from the inside. Beads of sweat fell from his forehead and his stomach knotted and churned. His hands grew numb and his arms and legs tingled. He tried to focus on breathing, which was becoming more difficult with each passing moment. He fell over to the side, nearly splitting his head on the ground as a vice-like pressure gripped his lungs and heart.
*****
“We didn’t expect you so soon,” a short servant said.
The warlock regarded the short man with his cold eyes. “There has been a change of plans,” Gondok’hr said grimly.
“So, no more playing the senator then?” the servant asked.
“No.” Gondok’hr rubbed a hand over his chest, checking that his wounds had healed entirely. “Where is Master Gilifan?”
“He is across the water. He is supposed to return next week.”
I see,” Gondok’hr said. “I need to be left alone for a few moments.”
The servant nodded and walked out through the door. “Call for me when you are ready.”
Gondok’hr nodded silently and strolled ethereally toward a smooth hexagonal pedestal topped with a great glass basin filled with water. The warlock waved his hand over his scrying table. The surface rippled in response to his hand and turned black. Within a few moments a great, horned dragon appeared.
“You should not make a habit of contacting me so frequently,” Tu’luh said.
“The assassins failed,” Gondok’hr said flatly.
Tu’luh emitted a low, throaty growl. “I warned you not to underestimate Lepkin.”
“There is more,” Gondok’hr said. “I think I found the boy.”
Tu’luh’s scaly lips stretched thin over his long, curved fangs in what could almost pass for a smile. “Then, what are you waiting for? Kill the boy.”
“It is complicated,” Gondok’hr said. “I believe the boy is inside Lepkin’s body.”
“Hm,” Tu’luh’s voice rumbled low, vibrating the surface of the water in the scrying table. “That is interesting. I wonder how that might have happened.”
“I don’t know,” Gondok’hr said. “But, the important thing is that Lepkin is not actually with the boy now.”
Tu’luh sat quietly for a moment, studying Gondok’hr intently. “Can you complete your task?”
“Of course, master,” Gondok’hr promised. “I have a plan, but I wanted your blessing.”
“Tell me quickly,” Tu’luh commanded.
“I have returned to Kuressar. My men are ready to strike. I will take them and march on Lokton manor.”
“Ah.” Tu’luh let out a puff of smoke. “So you will force the boy to return to his home and kill him in battle? I do believe we tried that once already.”
“True, but this time will be different. The boy is stuck in Lepkin’s body, and now he has openly attacked the senate. I will be able to call upon other reinforcements to ensure that Lokton manor is overrun and the boy is destroyed.”
“What of the senate?” Tu’luh asked.
“The senate is destroyed,” Gondok’hr said. “Most of the senators are dead. Those that remain will surely be scra
mbling for power in the current chaos.” The warlock left out the part that he was also almost killed because Erik was able to access Lepkin’s power to transform into a dragon.
“So, the boy of prophecy has started the civil war himself,” Tu’luh said with a throaty chuckle. “The irony is delicious.”
“So, I have your blessing then?” Gondok’hr asked.
Tu’luh nodded his massive, horned head. “Proceed, but know this, if you fail I will make you suffer.”
“If I fail, it will be because I am dead,” Gondok’hr said with a nod of his head.
“There are fates worse than death,” Tu’luh warned.
“Understood,” Gondok’hr replied. “I will mobilize my forces immediately.”
“See it through,” Tu’luh commanded. Then his image disappeared and the water turned clear again.
*****
Mickelson hardly looked at Al or Erik and he certainly didn’t talk to them. A couple guards approached to question them, but Mickelson waved them off with an abrupt gesture. Had it been any other senator, the guards may have still prevented them from ascending the staircase to the king, but Mickelson’s reputation was well known, and there were none among the guards that would question his honor or his intentions.
Only the four guards before the king’s door stopped them. “What business have you with King Mathias?”
“Is this a joke?” Mickelson retorted. “There has been a horrible battle in the senate chamber below and you ask me why we want to see the king?”
Al nudged Erik in the side with his elbow.
Erik glanced down and realized he should say something. He mustered his most official sounding voice and tried to stand as if he were Lepkin. “Several senators tried to execute an innocent noble as a traitor as part of an attempt to shift the balance of power in the kingdom.”
Al cut in. “We need to speak with King Mathias in order to know how he would like us to handle the fallout.”
The guards looked to each other but remained stoic in front of the door.
The door creaked open behind the guards and a thin, scraggly bearded man stood in the doorway wearing a yellow silken robe. “I will speak with them,” he said.
The guards instantly bowed and scrambled out of the way. The king looked to Erik with pale blue irises encircled by slightly yellow orbs. His hollowed cheeks sunk into his face and his hands shook when he waved for them to follow him into the room. Despite the agonizingly slow pace with which King Mathias walked, his stringy white hair billowed out with each step.
“Sire,” Mickelson began as they crossed through the king’s doorway. “Senator Bracken has been killed, as have many others.”
“I assumed as much when I heard the mighty roar of the dragon,” King Mathias said hoarsely. He shakily leaned over to reach out for the arm of his high-backed chair, guiding himself in as he slowly sat down. “That was your doing, no doubt,” Mathias said nodding to Erik.
“It was,” Erik admitted. Erik ran several explanations through his mind, but he couldn’t find any words.
The king watched him with those pale blue, jaundiced eyes and then rested his head back in his chair. “I know about Bracken. I know about most of them, actually,” he said. “Honestly Mickelson here is the only senator I don’t have any negative information about.”
Erik glanced at Mickelson and the senator stood silently.
“With respect,” Al started. “Why not do something, if you knew they were plotting against you?”
“A wise man once told me that being a king is not about controlling the people with power, it is about controlling the power for the good of the people.”
Al grinned and nodded. “My father told me the same thing,” he said.
“Then it is a shame you did not ascend to the throne in Roegudok Hall,” Mathias said. “I believe that I would have found a friend in you, as I did your father.”
Al bowed his head. “It was not my place,” he replied.
“Bah, your place is wherever you can best serve your people. You will see the truth of it soon enough,” Mathias retorted.
“So you let Bracken play his political games?” Mickelson asked.
Mathias smiled slightly, his thin skin stretching to the point that Erik thought it might split. “Bracken’s games,” he repeated. “I am the king of the Middle Kingdom. I rule from the northern sea to the Ten Forts that border upon the orcish lands. For generations we have kept the peace as best as we could, but we have always had our enemies. If not Tarthuns from over the mountains to the east, then we had homegrown vipers that laid in wait, trying to poison the throne from within. Whether this Bracken played his games or not it made no difference. Someone always seeks to put a dagger in the back of the king. That is the way of human men.” Mathias convulsed with a bout of coughing. Mickelson and Erik stepped forward to help, but the king raised his hand to stop them.
“Bracken was a warlock,” Erik put in. “Were you aware of that?” Out of the corner of his eye Erik caught Al’s sour, disapproving expression.
King Mathias finished coughing and cleared his throat. He rubbed his bearded chin and shook his head. “No, that I did not know.”
“We believe he was conspiring with those who would seek the book,” Al added.
Lady Arkyn stepped forward. “I saw it too, my king. Bracken was deceiving the senate.”
King Mathias breathed in deeply and stroked his beard. “So, there are still those who seek the power of Nagar’s Secret. That is unnerving, but not entirely surprising.”
“My king,” Mickelson started. “With what has happened in the senate chamber, we need a plan of action.”
“Yes, well with the Keeper of Secrets charring a score of people in the middle of the senate chamber, I imagine there isn’t much we can do to prevent riots in the streets. You have triggered a spring that will give rise to a wave of violence as factions vie for power in the absence of their puppet masters. The back stabbing senators were at least useful for keeping each other in check most of the time.”
Erik felt as though it were Lepkin, not King Mathias, sitting there in the chair and giving him a lesson in consequences. He didn’t know what to say, so he said what was in his heart. “The men who plotted against you would not have waited much longer. At least for now we have stopped those who not only seek the throne, but the dark magic used by Nagar and Tu’luh to enslave men. I cannot apologize for defending that which I have sworn to protect.”
King Mathias nodded and pursed his lips. “I have always appreciated the fact that you speak your mind, Lepkin. It is a breath of fresh air to an old king. I trust that as you gathered evidence of treachery, you also martialed additional allies, yes?”
“He has alerted the Lievonian Order, and tried to talk with my brother as well,” Al said.
“Well, the Lievonian Order will surely come,” Mathias said. “I have already sent the falcon summoning them when I heard the commotion below. The dwarves, on the other hand, I doubt will raise a hammer to help.”
“My people are not without honor,” Al said gruffly.
“It is not your people I doubt,” King Mathias said. “It is only your brother that I have reservations about.” King Mathias coughed again briefly before continuing. “Mickelson, I would suggest you stay in the tower until the Lievonian Order arrives.” Then he looked back to Erik. “Master Lepkin, you have put me into a very tight predicament. I have not named an heir, but now there is no senate to rule jointly with you.”
Erik bowed his head. He had no words to answer the king with.
Mathias cleared a hefty amount of phlegm from his throat. “Is it your desire to rule the kingdom yourself?”
Erik shook his head. “I have no desire to rule at all,” he said.
“I will go to Roegudok Hall,” Al interjected. Everyone turned to look at him. “It’s time to talk some sense into my brother.” Al looked up to Erik. “Plus he has something that Master Lepkin needs.”
King Mathias grunted.
He looked to Erik with heavy eyes. Whatever was on his mind, he did not say. He turned back to face Al. “I wish you the best of luck,” he said. “I do not envy your position.”
“Perhaps you could grant me a writ of passage, it would make things easier for me considering what happened in the senate chamber,” Al said.
King Mathias nodded. “Out of respect for your late father, you may ask for whatever you need. I can send a pair of my personal guard with you as well.”
“Is that necessary?” Mickelson asked.
“Mickelson, you come to me to tell me of corrupt senators and fail to imagine that the rank and file guards in the city might also have their own separate agendas?” Mathias said with a grin. “If I send my own guard, no one will interfere.”
“I understand,” Mickelson said. “Master Lepkin, what will you do?”
Erik thought of his father. “I have some business to attend to.”
King Mathias raised a hand. “I trust you are going to Bracken’s house?”
Erik had a confused expression on his face, but Al cut in without missing a beat. “Your majesty, he will investigate the possibility of others who were working with Senator Bracken to get their hands on the book. He will start at Senator Bracken’s house. From there he will follow the clues he finds.”
“I understand,” Mathias said. “I am tired,” he said suddenly. “I need to rest.” Mathias pulled a small brass bell out of his robe pocket and gave it a gentle shake, sending a high pitched ring through the air.
A young man appeared, seemingly out of nowhere. “You rang, sire?” Erik looked at the young man, dressed in a long tailed black jacket and dark trousers.
Mathias nodded amidst a coughing fit. A small amount of blood seeped into Mathias’ beard at the left corner of his mouth. “Bring me my paper and writing utensils. I have some proclamations that need to be sent out immediately.” The king looked up to Erik and the others. “You are dismissed. Wait in the main lobby below and I will have my servants bring down the documents you will require.”
