“Vulzdagg,” Nel’ead said with a smile. “The honor is yours to take if you accept.”
Leona looked sidelong at Dril’ead, he being the lord of Vulzdagg and therefore chief of the decisions. Dril’ead looked to Gefiny, though, but she held a firm visage that offered no suggestion or warning. This was the first time Dril’ead was in whole command of the ultimate decision. Leona seemed to offer acceptance of Nel’ead’s visit, so Dril felt he had nothing to fear.
Dril turned to the orb bearing Nel’ead’s face. “We accept, Lord Nel’ead Swildagg, most graciously.”
“I shall come before long,” Nel’ead said before his orb vanished.
“How interesting,” Leona mused as they turned from the circle of communication.
“Lord Hestage is dead,” Gefiny wondered in bewilderment. “How, I wonder.”
“None of us will know for certain until Nel’ead arrives,” Dril’ead said to them both. “Keep your questions until than.”
“I recall him being the lord of Swildagg, Dril’ead,” said Leona. “I think it only respectful of us if we refer to him using his title.”
Dril’ead nodded as the three of them walked out of the Circle of Power and back into the throne room, wondering what Nel’ead had to discuss so urgently that it had to be in person. But, as he told the others, he would have to wait until he arrived.
Dril’ead didn’t know it, but Gefiny watched him curiously as he made his way toward the anteroom door. She thought of all he had told her while they ate, and was beginning to wonder what he meant by it all. Soon she would realize, but Dril’ead’s training with Nelastro would have to wait until other questions were answered.
*****
Dril’ead sat in the stalagmite throne of the lord of Vulzdagg, awaiting the arrival of Nel’ead Swildagg. Leona’burda sat the throne beside him as Gefiny patiently paced about the room. None of the three Vulzdagg nobles spoke as they waited and wondered what was to come of Nel’ead’s arrival.
Dril wore his scimitars at his waist, having sent for them in case something were to go wrong during this meeting. It was very unusual that a noble from another branch have enough trust that they would come in person to meet with another of a separate branch. That thought troubled Dril’ead, and he couldn’t help but feel a strange sensation that something was bound to go wrong with this meeting, and so he had sent for his scimitars to be brought to him.
“I find it strange that lord Nel’ead Swildagg to come into our own walls for a private meeting that we could simply have in the Circle of Power,” Leona remarked as she shifted for the fifth time in her throne, “Unless it is a plot against our rule over these people.”
“I would not doubt it,” Dril’ead said, a puzzled frown wrinkling his face. “Perhaps it could be an attack? Swildagg has ever been watching us, I know.”
“I have never liked their position in those cliffs just above us,” Leona agreed with a nod. “It always seemed as though they watched us constantly for any weakness that might slip into their ever seeking gaze.”
“I do not trust there new lord, whatever his name was,” Gefiny put in as she came to a stop before the two thrones. “He seems too cheerful for a lord, and maybe that is because he had recently ascended. But the way he disregarded the death of his father so quickly… I do not trust him.”
“Nel’ead,” Dril said with a shake of his head. “I was acquainted with him once, when we were both very young, and can faintly remember the steadiness of his eyes – too steady, I recall. I do not trust him either, Gefiny, nor do I think he trusts us.”
“Yet he comes into our very courts, expecting, no doubt, a royal welcome.” Leona laughed wryly at the thought. “What creature of this world would have enough confidence to walk right into the den of a stranger?”
“Prepare for the worst,” Dril’ead told them as he looked around the room at the six guards stationed against the walls.
As silence once again fell upon the throne room, and Gefiny took up her pacing as before, a guard left the anteroom to bow before the three nobles before speaking.
“Lord Nel’ead Swildagg has arrived, my lord and lady,” the guard said.
“Send him in,” Leona instructed with a wave of her hand. “Let us see what the intent lord Nel’ead has for this meeting.”
Gefiny stood between the thrones, her hand resting on the hilt of her dagger. Dril’ead stood beside his throne with the intent to sway Nel’ead’s not knowing of his lordship as he had done in the Circle of Power. Leona’burda, however, gave Dril an inquisitive glance as she sat forward in her throne.
The door to the anteroom opened as the guard made way for Lord Nel’ead to enter. The Swildagg walked smoothly across the throne chamber to stand before the Vulzdagg nobility, and bowed as he swept back his purple cloak.
“Welcome, Lord Nel’ead Swildagg!” Leona’burda said as she rose from her throne to return the bow, Gefiny and Dril’ead bending beside her. “It is most courteous indeed for you to pay us such a noble visit.”
Nel’ead smiled his ominous smile as he rose from his bow. “No need to thank me, lady Leona’burda Vulzdagg. I come on behalf of the Swildagg aristocracy, and though lady Eldrean greatly desired to accompany me on this visit, I wished to come in as small a company as possible. You see, you have all gone through such great tragedy these passed weeks, and I thought it only fair that I pay thee the respected visit that you deserve. I pray that I do not trouble you by doing such.”
“Not at all,” Leona said, smiling.
Nel’ead bowed again, but as he rose he indicated the empty throne of the Vulzdagg lord beside Dril’ead. “I presume that lord Vaknorbond is still at rest from his labors?”
“He is,” Dril’ead replied with a short nod. “You spoke of urgent business to be discussed, my lord. What is it that is so urgent?”
Nel’ead straightened as he took on a more serious countenance. “Yes, my lord and ladies, there are indeed things that do greatly trouble my family. You see, our dear lord Hestage Swildagg has gone missing and we can only assume that he has died. It is a tragic thing indeed for us to bare this burden that has fallen upon us, for we were left with no appointed authority to take his place. I, however, being the eldest of my brothers, have taken the title of lord Swildagg upon myself for the protection of my branch. But that does not blind our awareness of danger, and the threat that some character in this realm ushers against our nobility. For, as I have said before, Lord Hestage Swildagg is dead. No one in my branch is responsible for his death, which is why I have come to you, our most trusted of allies, for council on this matter of grave business.”
Dril’ead sniffed, crinkling his nose nonchalantly as he recounted that which Nel’ead said. “I can give you a bit of council, my dear friend, for your troubles. I know not what to say, except that you keep a cautious eye upon those whom you suspect to have performed this treacherous act against you. The Urden’Dagg blesses your faithfulness toward your trusted allies.” Dril’ead bowed, and, for the briefest of moments, Gefiny thought she saw a flicker of revulsion spark in the eyes of Nel’ead as he looked upon Dril.
Nel’ead replaced that seeming hateful appearance with a grateful smile as Dril straightened from his bow. “Great wisdom there is in the words of Dril’ead Vulzdagg,” Nel’ead said with the slightest hint of disdain.
Dril’ead and Leona returned the smile, though they both felt the quick jab of mockery in his tone. Nel’ead suspected something, Dril’ead knew, and he was making it blatant before them all. Dril’ead wanted to inquire more from the Swildagg lord, but feared that he would only increase the tension that seemed to build between himself and the lord of Swildagg.
“Have you received any word from any other branch concerning my father?” Nel’ead asked.
“No word has reached thus far of him,” Leona replied. “But, do you suspect that a branch of the Urden’Dagg tree has committed a crime such as what you suggest?”
“I may,” Nel’ead said, cocking his head t
o one side as he grinned at her, searching for some clue perhaps. “But my suspicions lie at the present moment with one in particular.” He turned his grin toward Dril’ead. As his eyes met that of Dril’s, the grin slipped from his expression. “Tell me, captain Dril’ead Vulzdagg of the basilisk, is your father well?”
Dril paused, reading the strange look in Nel’ead’s eyes with distrust. “How do you mean?”
Nel’ead laughed in a strange manner, as if suddenly letting loose the humorous emotion that had been trapped inside him. “I mean, is he well enough to speak, to walk, to listen to the council of a friend? Or, by chance of an ill fate, has he fallen mortally wounded in battle by the hand of, let us say, Maaha Zurdagg?”
Dril’ead shut his eyes as a sharp pain suddenly chilled his spine at the mention of the Zurdagg matron. “Nay, lord Nel’ead Swildagg, Maaha has not slain or wounded my father.”
“Than has he not the strength to pay some respect by presenting himself before a visitor?” Nel’ead’s voice grew intense and angered as he spoke. “Is it not the custom of a lord to be present during such meetings as this? I say that it is!”
Dril’ead leapt forward to stand between Nel’ead and the stalagmite thrones, his eyes flaring with an anger sparked by a familiar pain in his back. “You may be lord of Swildagg, Nel’ead Swildagg, but here you are a common visitor! Here in Vulzdagg we deal cruel punishments for those who act as disrespectfully as you! You have not the authority to question the ways of my people, so I suggest that you keep your opinions to yourself until asked for, Lord Nel’ead. Am I understood?”
Nel’ead had taken a step back in alarm when meeting the eyes of the new Vulzdagg who seemed to have overcome the form of Dril’ead. He was surprised for a moment, but quickly shook it off with a shake of his head and a scornful chuckle.
“My dear lord Vulzdagg,” Nel’ead said as his smile once again crept over his face, “I do not have the authority to question your ways, but I do have the honor to ask why you would hide the death of your father when I have simply presented mine to you? I should be congratulating you for you ascension; for it seems we both have made a stand in our separate branches.”
Gefiny laid her hand on Dril’s shoulder, calming the storm that had exploded in his mind, and looking distrustfully at Nel’ead as he related all that they were hiding from him. Leona’burda rose slowly from her throne as she shared the same wary feelings as Gefiny, but Dril’ead, even after Gefiny calmed him from his rage, stared unhindered at Nel’ead.
“Lord Vaknorbond is not dead,” Dril told him straightforwardly. “I am afraid you are mistaken, my lord, and, with all due respect, I dismiss you from this courtroom.”
Nel’ead smiled knowingly at the blank stares of the Vulzdagg nobles as he took a step away from them, his final gaze falling upon Dril’ead. “Who are you that I must bow so low?”
“I am the lord of Vulzdagg!” Dril replied in a low, cruel tone.
“So the rumors are true,” said Nel’ead, his secretive smile widening as he turned round to depart the Vulzdagg courtroom without his farewell bow – a great disrespect to any branch of the Urden’Dagg tree.
4
Hope and Sanity
Grundagg and Swildagg still remained in the realm of shadow beside Vulzdagg, but no word had come from Grundagg since the return of Gregarr to his city. Dril’ead Vulzdagg had to convince himself for yet another tiring moment that they still existed. Vulzdagg could not afford to be alone. Without the company of the other branches, theirs would slowly disappear for loneliness and fear.
“Two left beside us,” Dril told himself with a worried sigh, “But one I no longer believe can be trusted… Two left!” he slammed his fist down upon the arm of his throne to add another painful bruise to his hand.
“What is one more scar?” he asked himself as he massaged his hand. “If I can bare these that I already have, I can bare a little more. Nothing can compare to that which I have already felt… Nothing!” he slammed his hand back down, purposefully smacking the bruise against the stone of the seat. “Neth’tek, I need you now!”
His head spun from side to side, searching the throne room for any sign of his lost brother, but no one stood in the chamber. He had even dismissed the guards for a moment of private thinking.
“I am alone,” he whispered to himself, leaning upon the arms of the throne as he gripped his head in both hands. “What hope is left? What can I possibly achieve without you, Neth’tek?” his head lifted from his hands as he looked across the chamber and toward the anteroom doors.
“Nelastro!” he exclaimed as he leapt to his feet.
The lord of Vulzdagg ran across the chamber toward the anteroom door and flung it open to pass through. Inside was stationed a guard as always, but a different one each time, and he glanced only for a brief moment at him before passing into the chamber beyond – a narrow corridor wherein was the noble chambers.
His door was the second to the right, and when he reached its frame he threw it open and halted to examine its interior. Everything was set where he had left it – a mess. Garments lay scattered across the floor, some torn and rent in various places where he had ripped the fabric. His bed lay on its side against the left-hand wall where he had thrown it, and the sheets lay among the clothes in tattered remnants.
Dril’ead had on his usual attire. He wore a lightweight mail shirt and black leather slacks he had tucked into boots that wrapped his shins with a protective material. Over these he had on the purple cloak of the Urden’Dagg, which every Follower of its Tree wore for traditional reasons.
After Nel’ead Swildagg had left Vulzdagg, Dril’ead could scarcely remember himself entering into his chamber and making such a mess that lay before him. He had been so enraged at Nel’ead that he lost all sense of control. He was reminded of a pain he had long since hoped to have set aside, and had lost all sense of control. He had heard the name of the witch who had enacted such pains upon him spoken before his face, and had lost all sense of control.
Dril’ead had reverted once again to the monster he battled day and night since Maaha Zurdagg looked into his eyes, had summoned a demon from the lesser realms, and cursed him to a dreadful end. He had to believe that she cursed him, and that no matter how many times he was told of his insanity, he was not insane.
Only Gefiny could heal him of the memories brought back, and only Nelastro could bare the final standard of his people. Without Nelastro he would have no hope, and without Gefiny he had no sanity. Without his people, Dril’ead Vulzdagg would have nothing to live for. They would last. They had to last. Dril’ead would make it his end to die in the defense of the Vulzdagg name.
He inhaled deeply, taking in the scent of his surroundings but smelling nothing. Absolute nothing was sometimes the most calming sensation Dril’ead felt, and he would spend hours on end sitting perfectly still as he listened to what transpired around him, like the echoes of the people working and talking outside the citadel walls, and the guards patrolling the passages above and around him. It was an excellent way to gather ones thoughts into an organized pattern.
The exact opposite of that comforting organization lay before him in his own room.
“Blood for blood,” Dril’ead found himself saying to the mess before him.
“What happened?” said the astonished voice of Gefiny behind him. “Dril’ead, what have you done?”
Dril did not turn toward her. “Who am I, Gefiny, if not the young warrior with great hopes and dreams?”
Gefiny looked from the mess in his room to the back of his head, wondering what he meant. “You are not a monster, if that is what you think.”
“That is what we all are.”
“This is the cloak of the Urden’dagg. These are the passages of the Vulzdagg citadel. Our memories are of times long passed and lost. If you think it is the past that determines who you are, what you will become, than you must take a step forward and see for yourself what the world really thinks of you – but even they cannot
determine who you are. That choice belongs to you alone.” Gefiny paused as Dril looked down at his feet in thought. “However, to me you will always be a brother full of hopes and dreams that shall one day come to pass. Just wait and you will see for yourself.”
Dril’ead now turned toward her, his eyes red and swollen in weariness. The energy in him seemed nearly drained as he spoke slowly. “The burden of my name is growing too heavy for me to bear much longer. Gefiny, I fear that I shall collapse before I escape this awful nightmare.”
“What nightmare do you speak of?” Gefiny asked, taking a step toward him.
“Swildagg will see our destruction in payment for Hestage’s death.”
“We had nothing to do with the death of Hestage, though,” Gefiny retorted.
Dril’ead looked to her with remorse as he swallowed anxiously. “Or did we, Gefiny, play some part in this terrible story? Our hands are stained with the blood of Zurdagg, and we will forever be unable to cleanse ourselves from it in the eyes of those who hate us. We may not have slain Hestage, but we did slay every noble member of the Zurdagg branch. History repeats itself. One member of the aristocracy falls, and another shall take his place before falling with him. It is an unavoidable thing, Gefiny. It is the doom for us all.”
Gefiny did not blink as she stared into his eyes, still wondering what his meanings were. She thought she understood, but couldn’t be too certain.
“Come with me,” she told him, taking his hand. “There is something I want you to see.”
*****
The slain of the Vulzdagg people were laid in caverns dug for the purpose of housing the dead. The tunnels were made deeper after the attack from the lesser realm, and hundreds more were laid within. The population of Vulzdagg had decreased dramatically, and those remaining worked to repair the city or add more bodies into the tombs of Vulzdagg.
The head of a basilisk was carved above the archway that gave entrance into the crypts, guarding the passage into the depths within where the dead lay in peaceful sleep. No enemy of Vulzdagg was aloud entrance into the crypts of their dead. However, Dril and Gefiny looked up at the intricate carving of the basilisk head, admiring the work of a skilled craftsman.
Passage to Glory: Part Two of the Redemption Cycle Page 4
