Wilmurin: Land of the Druids

by H. J. Cronin

  ‘That is kind of you, uncle, you would just give me your boat?’

  Barbor laughed, ‘I am not giving you my boat! I expect it back once you are done.’ They both laughed and enjoyed the rest of the evening together.

  Tumnis and Carmin fell asleep straight away as it was the first time either of them had slept in a proper bed or had proper food since the inn. They knew that in the morning they would set sail for an unknown land. Tumnis just hoped he could keep the boy safe and teach him everything he needed to know. High King Jasper had said Carmin was destined for the High Throne of Wilmurin in the future. Who knows what would happen? High Count Darkool now controlled Flordonium and who knew where else he was extending his reach.

  They both waved goodbye to Barbor in the morning as they set sail on the choppy morning sea. They were to pass on the west side of Blood Island and head north west. For now, they were both safe.

  The companions and the elves sailed on the open sea; they had passed the old Vandaloria and now Wilmurin was fading in the distance. They sailed north to where they would eventually reach the ice filled waters of the north and beyond that, Jotun.

  This was the first time any of the companions had been on the sea. Tales of Mer People and other monsters stopped druids from travelling beyond Wilmurin, and only merchants and traders travelled to Wilmurin.

  Johan glanced over the rails and into the perfect blue sea water. He noticed somebody next to him and turned to see Lady Lalo standing there. ‘We made it to safety, my lady,’ he said, breaking the silence.

  ‘Safety? No, Johan, not safety,’ she replied with a sigh. ‘The beautiful green land that is called Wilmurin will burn behind us. The dead will destroy everything that is loved by the living. We travel to Jotun, a part of the world which we do not yet know about. Unknown dangers lurk there, Johan. It was a very dangerous place many years ago. Let us hope that it has changed.’

  ‘For now though we are safe,’ he argued stubbornly. ‘I forgot to thank you for your help Lady Lalo. I will be forever grateful. We are lucky as well that your men can sail.’

  ‘Your gratitude is well received Johan. It will be a long journey to Jotun and I suggest that you rest.’

  ‘What do we do once we get there?’

  ‘We will search for this Lone Druid and see what he has to say,’ she replied and turned around to leave, but then stopped and looked back at Johan, ‘Remember one thing, Night Hunter, never let your guard down. You are the last of your kind.’ The advice sent a shiver down his spine and he just nodded.

  Johan walked along the deck and joined his companions who stood at the rear of the ship, staring down at the ripples the ship made as it sailed through the sea.

  ‘This is it then, my friends,’ he said, and put his arm around their shoulders. Ardag smiled at him but Bry just stared out towards Wilmurin behind them. ‘Do not worry Bry, we will return and avenge your father and brother, which I promise.’

  She gave a small smile and kissed him, ‘Thank Drugar that I have you two by my side. We’re in this together and never will we part.’

  ‘Unless any of us are killed,’ Ardag added light-heartedly and the others laughed.

  ‘You have come a long way, from a stuttering know-nothing stranger to a fine fighter, Johan,’ Bry said, staring into his eyes.

  ‘And you have come a long way, from hating my guts to complimenting and kissing me,’ Johan replied smiling.

  ‘We have all come a long way,’ Ardag said, serious all of a sudden. ‘I just hope we will all see it through to Jotun and beyond.’ He then took out his pipe and began smoking his herb as he stared out over the horizon.

  ‘We have each other and a small band of elves on our side,’ Johan said, placing a hand on Ardag's shoulder. ‘I believe that whatever perils lie before us we will overcome them. I could not ask for better friends. We are not only doing this for each other, we do it for Garpaw, Palar, Brehan, King Bemnom, Bethegar and all the other people we have loved and lost.’ He paused for a moment and then stared back out to Wilmurin. ‘But most of all we are doing it for Wilmurin.’

  Epilogue

  High Count Darkool sat upon his bone throne in Vandaloria and gazed at his associates. The moans and groans of slaves doing unspeakable things behind him in a blood bath thrilled him. The dead were nailed to the ceiling of the hall and blood dripped down to the ground as if it was raining and there was a hole in the ceiling. Flordonium had changed from a thriving capital to a cess pit where horrors were a part of everyday life for its new slave inhabitants. No longer was it the hustle and bustle which filled the streets but the screaming of the suffering.

  In front of the new leader of Wilmurin stood Count Kharki and the Black Widow, Katrina. ‘The north has been conquered. Bemon, Perthyon and now Weydon have fallen to my armies and its people enslaved,’ High Count Darkool began. ‘Black Widow, I applaud your takeover of the north west towns and villages.’

  Katrina bowed her head. ‘Thank you, High Count Darkool,’ she said.

  Darkool looked up at Count Kharki. ‘How goes the war in the south?’

  ‘It goes well, High Count Darkool. The Clan of the Lion have a formidable force, but we have taken most of their strongholds and now march on their main city. The Dark Tiger Clan were wiped out by the lions before we even arrived. The Light Tiger Clan are also wiped out,’ Kharki explained, careful not to upset his master.

  ‘I trust you and the other counts will eventually defeat the Clan of the Lion. Although they are the biggest clan they cannot match my strength,’ Darkool said, stroking his chin.

  ‘Your necromancer, Shalon, has played a large part. For every battle lost he brings more troops to our cause.’

  ‘Good,’ Darkool said; he was very proud of his necromancer servant. ‘You will now return to the front line and I will send my army to accompany you. I want the south captured.’

  ‘Yes, High Count Darkool,’ Kharki immediately said with a bow. ‘One more thing – what of the Lizard Clan?’

  ‘Once the war in the south is complete we will wipe the lizards out as well. They like to hide in their pyramids in their jungle. They are no concern to us at the moment. Go now,’ High Count Darkool instructed, pointing to the door.

  Katrina stepped forward. ‘What are my next orders High Count Darkool,’ she asked.

  ‘You will have your troops search Wilmurin. One of my counts has failed me – in failing to bring Johan to me. I sent another recently and word has just reached me that he too has failed me.’

  ‘I am sorry to hear that, High Count Darkool.’

  ‘Let us hope you can fare better than my counts did,’ Darkool said, with hint of a threat.

  ‘I will, my lord. I now return to Shartak and there I will coordinate the search. We will find him,’ she said. Katrina then bowed and walked away. Darkool stared at her with suspicion as she left but then sat back and listened to the slaves engaged in filthy acts behind him.

  Katrina walked through the city with her captain and a small entourage of men. The streets stank like death; the cobbled lanes were stained red with blood. Vampires of all different types watched as she passed. Some were having sex with human prisoners against their will while others bathed in blood baths.

  The sight sickened even her; she turned to her captain and whispered, ‘One day we will be the clan in charge. We will regain our strength and then challenge Darkool for the throne.’

  ‘Yes, mistress, a good plan – but the High Count’s strength is unmatched. It will take a very long time to rebuild our army,’ he whispered back.

  ‘You are forgetting we have the north west. There are many who would join our cause. We deal with this carefully and smartly. High Count Darkool will fall at some point beneath the fangs of the Black Widow. I will succeed where my mother failed.’

  ‘Yes, Black Widow.’

  Katrina glanced once more at the citadel on the third tier of Vandalore. She knew one day she would be back here with an army, and one day it would be her clan
that ruled Wilmurin.

  ‘I do not trust her,’ Shalon said, stepping out of the shadows.

  ‘The Black Widow is faithful to us Shalon, she needs us so that her clan can survive,’ High Count Darkool responded.

  ‘Let us hope you are right, High Count Darkool.’

  ‘You managed to get here without any of the counts knowing?’ High Count Darkool suddenly asked.

  ‘I did, it was not easy but I managed it all the same. What did you want with me?’ Shalon asked.

  High Count Darkool stood up, placed an arm around the necromancer’s shoulders and slowly walked him to another room.

  ‘Count Drakar failed in his quest to capture Johan. My faith in vampires has faded, they are too much like humans to get the job done.’

  ‘If you would not use vampires, High Count, then who or what do you intend to do?’ Shalon asked suspiciously.

  ‘I intend to use you, Shalon. You are loyal to me?’

  ‘More loyal than any of your servants. What would you have me do?’ Shalon asked, bowing.

  High Count Darkool stopped and then looked at Shalon, ‘You are a faithful servant, Shalon. But I require you to die.’ With that Darkool drove his blade into the stomach of Shalon, and as he removed it Shalon dropped to the floor, holding his stomach to keep his innards in.

  Darkool then raised his sword into the air and it began to glow red. He chanted in an ancient tongue and a red smoke began to pour from the tip of his ridged blade. The smoke took on the form of a skeleton hovering in the air. Only the sound of wind filled the room and the skeleton gently flew into the open mouth of Shalon.

  Shalon suddenly started to twitch and gag. His body levitated above the ground and his arms and legs began to spread out like a star. Suddenly his skin began to melt away until there was only bone and remnants of mort flesh. He had bits of torn robe covering parts of his body, and then – there Shalon stood, gazing at Darkool.

  ‘Wha … wha … what have you done to me?’ Shalon asked in a petrified but haunting, hushed voice.

  Darkool placed a gold crown upon Shalon's head and raised his arms into the air calling out, ‘Vampires betray me, but not you Shalon, you are my faithful and powerful servant.’ Shalon looked at his hands as Darkool spoke. He felt power within him that he had never felt before. ‘You will go and find Johan and kill all who are with him. You, Shalon, you are my Lich King,’ he said, gazing into the eyes of Shalon. ‘Wilmurin is no longer the land of the druids; it is the land of darkness!’

  THE END

  Coming Soon:

  Wilmurin: Land of Darkness

  Johan and his companions have escaped Wilmurin, and now continue their journey across the sea to a dangerous place called Jotun to meet the Lone Druid in the hope that they can find a way to stop High Count Darkool forever. What new dangers do they face? Will they succeed or perish trying? The notorious unforgiving sea will be their first obstacle of many.

  Meanwhile King Bethegar and Parmeus journey south to find what refuge they can after Bemon was destroyed. They must avoid detection for that will lead to certain death; easier said than done when the land is under the control of the enemy.

  Captain Tumnis and Carmin have also left Wilmurin and now sail to an unknown place across the sea. What is their fate? Will Tumnis be able to protect the boy against any perils that are coming?

  High Count Darkool continues his war in the south of a much changed Wilmurin against the Clan of the Lion. King Lionel's home, Lerthayl, has been under siege for many weeks. The large walls of Lerthayl are the only barricade between his dwindling clan and the unrelenting undead horde outside. What way will the war go in this action packed sequel to Wilmurin: Land of the Druids?

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