Echo of the High Kings (The Eoriel Saga Book 1)

by Kal Spriggs

  “Ah, Ceratul. Yes, you are here about the sentinels, are you not?” Tirianis said, her beautiful face calm, “Well, once I have finished with Lady Amelia, I would be glad to discuss that with you.”

  Amelia recognized the name, and remembered that Simonel had referred to him as the Warmaster, the leader of the Wold military forces. No wonder he hates me, she thought, I must seem like an itch he can't scratch: an outsider and trespasser.

  “I'm certain that her training is a priority,” he said, his tone suggested exactly the opposite. “However, the new sentinels must receive their final evaluation today. I would greatly appreciate it, especially as the attack that sundered the Veil also destroyed many of our older sentinels.” Amelia saw him dart a glance at her, a clear indication that she must accept some of the blame for the attack.

  “Very well,” Tirianis said with a smile. “Of course Lady Amelia and I will assist you in the evaluation.”

  The Warmaster frowned, “Princess Tirianis, do you think it wise that she participate-”

  “You're right,” she interrupted, “this would be a perfect lesson for Lady Amelia to undertake herself. I will observe and allow her to interface with the sentinels herself.” Amelia opened her mouth in surprise and saw that Ceratul matched her expression. “Let us go to the sentinels, shall we?” Tirianis said sweetly.

  Ceratul gave her a jerky nod, as if he did not trust himself to speak and then led the way out of the room. Tirianis stood from her couch, and cocked an eyebrow at Amelia. Her expression was serene.

  “Do you think this wise?” Amelia asked softly.

  “I think you are more than capable and I think it important that Ceratul be reminded that King Simonel has extended his trust to you,” the Wold Princess said. “And Ceratul can be bothersome if his arrogance is not properly trimmed down at times.” Amelia could not help but snort at that.

  She followed Tirianis and Ceratul through the Wold city to a large clearing where several stone statues stood. They seemed to be made of granite and jade and at a distance, she could only see that they seemed to be of various animals.

  Amelia gave a start, however, when her mental senses felt an awareness that seemed to emanate from the stone statues. As she drew closer, she saw that the statues had jointed arms and legs, and that veins of crystal seemed to run through the stone bodies.

  Tirianis stopped a good distance from the statues. “You feel them?”

  Amelia nodded, “They think... but it is different from a person.”

  “Yes, our sentinels are much more sophisticated than some other constructs, some of the older ones have developed personalities and even interests of their own,” the Wold Princess said. “These ones my people have created to supplement our defenses. Normally the Enchantress would evaluate them, but a new one has yet to be selected.” Tirianis's beautiful face twisted with sorrow as she spoke and Amelia realized that the previous Enchantress must have been close to her.

  Amelia felt a lump of sorrow fill her throat. She felt a sudden shame at her own role in the deaths of so many of these people. She looked over to see a cold glare from Ceratul. Just then, she could not blame him.

  “Focus on their minds,” Tirianis said. “You should feel a number of commands, underlying the main program. The central and most important is their loyalty to us. After that, there will be commands on how they draw energy and respond to threats.”

  Amelia nodded, and she reached out her mind to the sentinels. She made contact almost immediately. The cold, alien thoughts seemed to envelop her and she fought a moment of panic.

  The panic passed and she found a strange sense of wonder at the creations. They seemed to sense her entry into their thoughts. They did not recognize her, but they seemed eager for this new experience, almost like children.

  For a moment she melded with their thoughts, until she remembered her task and then reached deeper. She found the commands that Tirianis had mentioned. It took her only a few seconds to sense how deeply the commands lay within the thoughts of the constructs and how any attempt to break or turn these sentinels would make them useless hulks of stone.

  Amelia broke away from the sentinels. She turned to meet her friend's gaze. “That was... interesting.”

  “I take it the commands are well established?”

  “They seem to be,” Amelia said. “I think it would be impossible to remove them, the way they're in their minds, to modify their loyalty to your people would destroy their minds, make them unable to function.”

  The Wold Princess nodded, “Warmaster, I vouch for the sentinels.”

  Amelia saw him clench his jaw in anger. “Princess, I would appreciate it if you were to confirm that yourself.”

  “Your caution is admirable,” Tirianis said. “However, I feel confident of Lady Amelia's judgment. Thank you for this opportunity for her to improve her abilities.” Amelia's friend turned to her, “I think we should return to your other training now.” Amelia followed the Princess out of the clearing, but she could feel Ceratul's angry gaze on her back long after she left his presence.

  ***

  Aerion

  The Tucola Forest, Zielona Gora Barony, Duchy of Masov

  Second of Tremarn, cycle 999 Post Sundering

  Aerion shaded his eye as he rode out of the trees. The rain had cleared and the sun seemed dazzling after the gloom under the trees. As he rode out onto the plains, he gave one last glance behind at the Tucola Forest. He remembered, just then, that Tucola meant “sea of gold” in the old language of the Dragon Kings. The trees, true to their name, glimmered in the light, like an ocean made of liquid gold.

  He saw Aramer ride up, still dressed as Arren. “Will you miss the forest?” Aerion asked. He saw that most of the other riders had spread out, and they had some privacy as they rode.

  Aramer gave a shrug, “I have moved so much that I tend to avoid growing too attached to places. I will miss the shelter though, it's much easier to do what I do when men can't see far. Cities work well for that too, where you can be lost in the crowds.”

  “What will happen with...” Aerion hesitated, then finished, “The things you left behind.”

  “I have a traveling kit,” Aramer patted his saddlebags. “And I will return sometime to pick it up. I have other supply caches and it is surprisingly easy to assemble what I need, just about anywhere.”

  “Oh,” Aerion said. He looked forward at a shout and saw the others had assembled ahead. He gave Aramer a nod and rode towards the front. Like the others, Aerion had a string of horses.

  He felt a wave of relief when he saw Katarina step out of the crowd. He had worried that some harm might befall her without Bulmor there to protect her. A stranger walked forward beside her and before Aerion could ask, Bulmor spoke, “Where did he come from?” Bulmor's normally gruff voice sounded harder edged with suspicion.

  The stranger gave a nod of his head, “I'm no threat to your charge, Ducal Guard.” The stranger was a stocky man, with a shock of white hair. He wore a gray tunic and pants and he leaned on a metal stave.

  “That doesn't answer the question,” Bulmor said. “And I have a feeling that you may not be a direct threat, but I can almost smell the trouble you bring.” Even as Bulmor spoke, he passed off the reins from Katarina's horse to her and then tossed Gerlin reins as well.

  “It doesn't,” the stranger said. “I am Cederic, a wizard, and I am here to help.” At his words, Aerion drew in a surprised breath. There were a number of runecrafters who traveled from village to village and crafted protective runes against spirits and beasts, but for someone to claim to be a wizard, that meant they had a great deal of knowledge. The Iron Wizards of Boir crafted all manner of magical devices. The Fire Wizards of the Duchy of Asador were said to be able to release destruction at will. Around him, Aerion saw many of the assembled people murmur and a few even break out into smiles at the good fortune that a wizard had joined their group.

  Bulmor did not look impressed. The gruff man scowled at the wiza
rd for a long moment, but after that he tossed the wizard his last set of reins. “Very well.”

  Aerion led his string of horses to the next group of people. He saw others do the same and though he initially worried they would be short mounts, he saw everyone mounted with several horses to spare when he rode over to where Bulmor and Arren waited.

  “Get them moving,” Katarina said.

  Gerlin, Arren, and Bulmor moved out. Aerion reacted to Bulmor's growled commands and moved towards a group of three of the newest recruits. All three sat on their horses with unease. As he rode up, Aerion saw one of them spook his horse and nearly pitch out of the saddle. Another had started wandering in circles as the horse ignored the rider's direction.

  Aerion shook his head, he lacked true proficiency, but at least could get his horse to move forward. He rode up on the closest, “Pass me your reins, I'll lead your horse, just stay in the saddle.” The boy, at least a cycle or two younger than Aerion, gave him a nervous nod.

  Aerion did the same with the other two and led the riders behind in a string. He saw a number of others do the same. He looked to the west and saw where Katarina and the wizard had already started off. Aerion started his horse in the right direction and a glance behind him showed his three followers had remained in the saddle... so far. The entire group got into motion soon enough. Aerion let out a sigh of relief at that. The thought of being caught by Hector's men in such a confused mess made him almost feel sick. Especially with how many of their newest recruits looked so pathetic and wretched.

  Aerion passed the reins back to the next man, “Let your horse follow the others. If you have any problems, give a shout and someone will help you out.” Now that they had started, he saw most of the horses had drawn into a column. He saw a pair of riders on either side and to the rear and he guessed they were there as much to scout as to round up strays.

  He nudged his horse into a canter and rode up near where Bulmor and Katarina led the column. As he drew closer, he saw the wizard had also joined the group.

  “...explains how you found us,” Katarina said. “But it still doesn't tell me why you helped, or what you expect in return, Cederic.”

  “I don't expect anything in return, Lady Katarina. I am here to help you and I ask nothing in return, save that you treat me with the same respect and courtesy as any other volunteer,” Cederic said sharply. “I am not here to harm you, I am here to provide assistance and, yes, I know that Shrouded Wizards have something of a mixed legacy.”

  “Mixed legacy?” Bulmor rumbled. “Hard to trust them when you can't remember their name or what they look like after they finish their work. Which more often than not seems to bring chaos and war.”

  “Then how would people attribute their actions to a Shrouded Wizard's advice if they don't remember what it was?” Arren asked. “I never held much with those legends. And the couple times in history where we know a Shrouded Wizard got involved, well those were pretty important events,” Arren stroked his beard.

  “When was that?” Aerion asked. He vaguely remembered mention of Shrouded Wizards in one of Taggart's stories.

  “The last time, and most recent, was the end of the Marovingian civil war.” Arren said, “It is said that Septimus had a Shrouded Wizard as his adviser when he finally unified Marovingia, over two hundred cycles ago.”

  Cederic didn't interrupt, but Aerion noticed him nod slightly. Arren continued, “Before that, there was the self-proclaimed Emperor Dalton of Boir. The Duke of Taral had a Shrouded Wizard show up to help him build an alliance with the Duke of Masov. It took twenty cycles of war that devastated Taral, but they eventually defeated him.” Arren paused, “That was... over four hundred cycles ago.” Again, Cederic gave a slight nod.

  “And the assassination of Moral the Usurper King, by his nephew?” Bulmor said, his voice gruff.

  “I remember that one!” Aerion said. “Tanis, the son of the brother that Moral killed.” He frowned, “Taggart told me that one. A wizard, a Shrouded Wizard taught Tanis how to turn the broken tip of the Starblade into a weapon, an arrow.”

  “Yes,” Arren said, his voice oddly subdued. “Moral had forged a suit of runic armor that made him almost invulnerable and sustained him after the wounds he suffered when he shattered the Starblade. Many tried to kill him during his reign of terror, but only Tanis found success.”

  “The arrow pierced his armor,” Arren said. “But it still ended the line of the High Kings. Tanis, little more than a boy, died in the act, sent on a suicide mission. And Moral had no heirs.”

  “Yes,” Cederic said. “And yes, a Shrouded Wizard did advise Tanis on how to kill his uncle. And Akaros died trying to protect Tanis.”

  “Akaros?” Aerion asked. He felt a sudden chill pass over him. He saw Katarina look at him, she clearly heard something of his surprise at the name. Perhaps it was a common name from back then, he thought.

  “Yes, that was his name,” Cederic said, “Though he predates me by many, many cycles, Noth remembers him and remembers his loss.”

  “Regardless,” Arren said, “Those stories suggest we should at least listen to him, and that if Noth felt it important enough to send one of his Disciples, then something of importance rests on our rebellion.”

  Aerion glanced down at his saddle, suddenly grateful for Arren's interruption. Friends though they are, it isn't my story to tell, he thought. He wondered, though, if there might be some link to the spirit of his village... yet the very idea seemed absurd.

  “What help can you provide, then?” Katarina asked. “You seemed to handle Moratha the Witch quite well, back there. What if Hector's men attack us, how many of them can you handle?”

  “Who's Moratha?” Aerion asked at the same time as Bulmor.

  “I'll... tell you about her later,” Katarina said with a nervous glance at Bulmor. Aerion saw a look of disapproval on Gerlin's normally happy face.

  “I can counter most other wizards and enchanters, and I can protect your people from spirits and other energy beings, both those sent by shamanistic magic and those driven by their own will,” Cederic said.

  “Shamanistic magic?” Aerion asked.

  “Holy men, priests, witches, diviners, and warlocks,” Arren said. “Don't let the title priest give you a warm feeling towards them, there are as many powerful evil spirits and godlings as there are good ones.”

  “I notice a distinct lack of what you can handle that isn't related to magic,” Katarina said. She peered at him with a suspicious blue-eyed gaze

  He shrugged, “I can provide assistance, advice, and be a source of knowledge, I have protective runes that can block attacks and conceal our presence, and in self defense I can utilize destructive energy to kill.” He frowned, “I prefer to avoid that, when possible.”

  “Why?” Katarina asked. “If you are powerful enough, why not ride back with us and scatter Hector's army? Why not help me to fight my way directly to him, help me kill him, and end this now, before more people have to die?”

  Cederic rode in silence for a long while. When he finally spoke, he sounded frustrated, “I can see how simple it seems, to you. Imagine how the people of the Duchy would react. Imagine what they would see.” He let them think for a moment, “Would you then appear strong, powerful, their rightful ruler? Or would they see you as a wizard's pet? Worse, how would you trust your own rule with the knowledge that I could as easily push you to the side and appoint someone else? What kind of ruler would you be if you constantly sought to appease me in order to retain your life and your rule?”

  Katarina opened her mouth to respond, then shut it. It was her turn to ride in silent thought, Aerion saw. When she finally spoke, her voice was subdued, “I hadn't thought of that. But do you have that power?”

  Cederic shook his head, “It seems such a simple concept, to you, yet you must know better than that.” He pointed at the wands on her belt, “Those, do they have the power to remove Hector?”

  “Well... I guess, if I used them right...” K
atarina said. Then she flushed, “That's not the same, they're just tools!”

  “As are all runes, to include those I use,” Cederic said. “Runes manipulate energy. Much like your wands, I have my methods to store and use energy. I have a reserve that is deeper than your wands, but you might be surprised at how limited it can be at times. Truth to tell, I used much of it to arrive when I did.”

  Aerion frowned at that. It seemed unfair, for some reason, to have a wizard who had used up most of his power. Then again, as far as he knew, Hector didn't have a wizard at all, so that was something at least.

  “What did you mean when you talked to Moratha?” Katarina asked. “When you cautioned her not to choose a side and not to cross the line?” Aerion perked up at that, he still wondered who this Moratha was and why Katarina seemed to think that Bulmor should not hear of her.

  Cederic pursed his lips, “I doubt you have heard of the Great Council, sometimes called the Conclave.” He shrugged, “They are some of the most powerful wizards in the world and Noth, my master, is among their number. They are not all-powerful, but they seek to enforce certain behavior among those who use magic. Those who agree with their goals try to abide by their rules and some of those rules are ironclad, while others, such as killing with magic are not. But one of their tenets is that power does not give wizards and enchanters the right to rule, but knowledge does give us the duty to instruct and advise. They keep most of the others in balance and prevent powerful users of magic from attempting conquest.”

  “So... you warned Moratha against doing that?” Katarina nodded. “But how is her actions not over the line? She was there to kill me for Hector, which is the same as if I had you kill Hector for me.”

  “It's a difference of scale,” Cederic said. “Amongst other things. Using a witch to eliminate a minor threat to his rule merely makes Hector look practical. Having a wizard overthrow the ruler of a nation and destroy his army in the process, that is something of a very different level.”