Nicholas Raven and the Wizards' Web (The Complete Epic Fantasy)

by Thomas J. Prestopnik

  The wizard nodded. “Madeline wasn’t happy with Caldurian’s handling of recent affairs.”

  “Precisely,” he replied with a hint of dark amusement. “The members of Vellan’s inner circle are simmering in a stew of deceit and distrust.”

  “So you think that by allowing Caldurian to escape and run back to Vellan–presumably to where Madeline has also fled–that a power struggle might ensue? And then what? The realm of Kargoth will fall under its own instability?”

  “It’s possible,” the King replied in a less than enthusiastic tone, wondering if he had done the right thing now that he was hearing his plan spoken aloud. “Isn’t it?”

  Tolapari sighed, digesting the information. “Or have we possibly strengthened their fragile alliance on the eve of war?”

  “We?”

  Tolapari glanced at his riding companion, his sour mood having lightened. “Well, I did put the idea in your head, Justin. Still, the more I analyze your approach, the more intrigued I become with the possibilities.”

  “That’s how I became entranced with the idea. There is going to be a war when we reach Del Norác. I can’t imagine coming to terms with Vellan, though he may want to put on a show of sorts before he launches his troops.”

  “Agreed.”

  “So if a battle is inevitable, which would give us the greater advantage? Keeping Caldurian at our side, chancing that he may strike against us if his powers fully return? Or setting him loose upon Del Norác where he might make a play against his master when Vellan’s grasp on power grows precarious?” The King shrugged. “So I decided to take a chance. I let Caldurian go.”

  “With Carmella at his side.”

  King Justin chuckled. “Oh, I guessed long ago that Carmella would make a run for it sooner or later, eager as she was to locate her cousin. And I suspected that she suspected that I knew her intentions all along.”

  “So why did you do nothing to stop her?”

  The King gazed at the melancholy sky as a soft breeze brushed across his face, worrying about Carmella’s whereabouts. “After what that woman did to help us in our fight against Vellan, she deserves to determine her fate. I didn’t feel I had the right to keep her here against her will despite my better judgment. If Carmella hadn’t brought that medallion to the Citadel, the prospects for this war ending in our favor would have been grim indeed. With the Enâri removed, we now have a fighting chance for victory.”

  “We do,” the wizard said. “And I now see why you allowed her to pursue Madeline all the way to Vellan’s abode.”

  “I just hope it’s not to her demise,” he replied, visibly worried as their horses ambled contentedly across the grassy terrain. “When Vellan finds out about Carmella’s role in the downfall of his Enâri servants…” King Justin shook his head in the dim morning light. “I can’t bear to think about it, yet it will haunt my waking hours.”

  The army advanced the following two days under brighter skies but cooler temperatures. Swiftly moving clouds cast sweeping shadows across wide, grassy swaths and the greening treetops of intermittent woodlands. The air harbored an autumnal chill. The troops slowly rose in elevation, heading northwest along the line of the Drusala River which was often in sight to their left. The next day, the weather changed drastically. Heavy rains again pelted the soldiers as they traversed a narrow tract of land between the river and some woods to their right. Travel conditions were quickly compromised as during the previous storms, so the army halted for the remainder of that day and all the next as the rains let loose down the river valley.

  “We still have a little leeway to reach Del Norác by the appointed time,” King Cedric reminded King Justin later on the second day of their standstill as they stood beneath the eaves of some towering pines. His breath rose white in the chilly air as the first hints of twilight settled over the land. “Nicholas, Leo and their guides have a much longer journey than ours, so no need to worry that we’ll be late with the signal.”

  “I know you’re right, Cedric, but it feels as if we’ve been on the road for ages since departing Morrenwood. And we’re heading directly into the dragon’s lair, as it were, while Nicholas and his companions are going around it. I hate being at a standstill now that we’re so close.” Drops of rainwater found their way through the sweet boughs and tumbled off the hood draped loosely over the King’s head. “But I suppose this extra rest is good for the men. Goodness knows that I could use a full night’s sleep.”

  “Then go to your tent while we enjoy this lull. The weather could change in an instant and we’ll be on our way,” King Cedric told him. “Besides, there’s nothing for you to do at the moment except brood. With luck, we shall be on the road tomorrow.”

  “Regardless of this fickle weather,” he replied. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I will comply with your wish and seek out a pillow for my tired head. Goodnight.”

  As hoped for, the weather pattern shifted by morning. The rain ceased before dawn and the clouds broke and dispersed on a warming breeze. By midmorning, the army moved on as the treetops swayed and the swollen waters of the Drusala River rushed by. But the captains in charge kept their lines at a safe distance from the water’s edge, not so much out of fear of the Drusala’s swift current, but of Vellan’s enchantment upon the river. Most suspected that even though the river was transformed into a raging, muddy flow speckled with tiny whitecaps, it probably wasn’t enough to dilute Vellan’s terrible spell lingering in its watery depths.

  After an hour’s march, the woods on the right thinned out and the distant mountains were again visible. A short time later, King Justin ordered the lines closer to the river when a garrison was spotted ahead on the water’s edge. The King, after consulting with his counterparts, was eager to take a look at the abandoned complex.

  The main stone structure stood three stories high and was surrounded by several other buildings of wood or clay. Captain Silas, riding alongside the trio of Kings, guessed that the main building had probably housed over two hundred soldiers. “Possibly more if manned by Enâri alone. The other buildings look like storage facilities and secondary living quarters for additional troops.”

  King Rowan gazed at the dreary sight, recalling the Enâri horde that had occupied Red Lodge. “Based on estimates of the Enâri population, I imagine there are many more abandoned garrisons like this scattered throughout Kargoth.”

  “Unless the Islanders occupy them, though they don’t come close to the number of Enâri that once defiled these lands,” King Justin said, eyeing the structure. “This one looks utterly desolate.”

  On his order, two dozen soldiers on horseback galloped up to the garrison to inspect the area before the others drew near. The Enâri remains of at least one hundred pairs of boots, tattered clothing and discarded weapons were strewn about the grounds. When Kings Justin, Cedric and Rowan sauntered up, they were transfixed by the sight. King Rowan, having witnessed a similar display at Red Lodge, was intrigued by the fragility of the Enâri despite their brutal demeanor and destructive ways.

  “I stood in shock when I returned home with my daughter-in-law after our abduction,” he said. “Scattered around the courtyard were countless boots, cloaks and swords, and lingering above it all was a gritty veil of fine sand stirred up by the breezes.” A grim smile crossed his face. “I can only imagine the extent of the Enâri annihilation in other locales where they numbered in the thousands.”

  “Vellan’s mountain mining facilities must look like a sorry sight,” King Justin remarked.

  “Not to mention his stronghold,” King Cedric added. “I’ve heard he relied more on the Enâri creatures than his Island allies to man the corridors in Mount Minakaris. Who knows who he allows close to him now since the Enâri are no more?”

  King Justin shrugged as his men started returning from the garrison. “Vellan, I’d wager, prefers his own counsel. Still, it must be a lonely and dreary place to reside.”

  After the soldiers reported that the garrison and surrounding bu
ildings were abandoned, King Justin and several others examined the swift death that Leo’s simple turn of a key had wreaked upon the unsuspecting Enâri troops. The interiors of the buildings were also filled with bodiless boots and uniforms, abandoned weapons and piles of dry soil still intact after having escaped winter’s wrath. Brendan and William were among those who toured the morbid sight.

  “To be honest,” William whispered to his brother as they moved among a handful of soldiers, “when we took our oath, I wondered if Nicholas and Leo would ever return with a reforged key. Being overwhelmed by our escape from Red Lodge, leaving Mother and Grandfather behind, and not knowing if the wizard Frist was even alive, well, I guess my heart was empty of any hope for success. But I kept those thoughts to myself.”

  “That was wise,” his brother replied. He rested a hand upon the younger prince’s shoulder as he guided him through a narrow corridor and around a half dozen pairs of scattered Enâri boots. “But don’t ever give up hope, Will, even with the slimmest of chances. The enemy will win without a fight otherwise.”

  William nodded as they moved to another room. “I promised myself not to after witnessing your return. If you can come back from the dead, I suppose there’s hope that even Vellan can be defeated.” He emitted an anxious sigh, looking up at his brother as memories of their encounter with Arileez flashed through his mind. “When we were in that cabin and I…” He stared at the floor for a moment, searching for the right words. “When Arileez attacked you and I had started to climb up that ladder, well I…”

  “If you had rushed to my aid, Will, we might both have been killed. And maybe in a more permanent way, too. So don’t lose any more sleep over it,” he said with a calming smile, seeing the anxiety in his brother’s eyes melt away. “And not another word either. There are more important things to worry about.”

  “Like knocking on Vellan’s front door?”

  “Exactly.”

  The army marched several more hours that day, making camp as gray and purple twilight blanketed the landscape. They continued on to Del Norác the following morning through a cool and hazy dawn. The troops veered away from the river at one point when a stretch of trees grew thick along its banks, temporarily hiding the watery ribbon from view. But as the morning wore on and clouds rolled in from the west, the woods thinned out and the river again made its appearance. Now the terrain grew hilly in parts and numerous streams cut across the land before emptying into the Drusala. But the men and horses drank from and washed in these waterways without fear, knowing that Vellan’s enchantment wouldn’t pollute these tributaries until their waters touched the river.

  By late morning the clouds thickened. Low, rumbling thunder reverberated from time to time down the valley. But the rain held off despite an oppressive cloud cover. The men remained silent during this stretch of the journey, mirroring the melancholic gloom that pervaded the countryside. All were exhausted, many having left the Citadel twenty-seven days ago. Most estimated another two or three days of marching before the real work began, hoping to conserve what strength remained to wield a sword or fire an arrow.

  At one point the Drusala River veered sharply northwest as if reaching for the very mountains from which it originated. The high, rapid currents of the previous day had since subsided, transforming the Drusala back into a meandering watery ribbon flowing with a smooth and hypnotic silence. As the footsteps and wheel rotations of the troops and wagons added up to mile upon grueling mile, an occasional dilapidated farmhouse or tiny village long since abandoned slowly drifted past and disappeared behind them like a bird in flight. Low rumbles of thunder continued down the valley, doing more to lull the soldiers into a collective stupor than to shake them into a state of wary vigilance.

  “I feel that if I close my eyes, I’ll fall into a deep sleep right on my horse,” Ranen said as he rode alongside Eucádus and Ramsey, the dark red ribbon secured to his hair the only bright spot in the colorless day. “Perhaps Vellan cast a spell upon the air, too.”

  “I don’t know if even he is powerful enough to control the breezes,” Eucádus replied. “But if you doze off, fall from your horse and still remain asleep, then maybe you might be right.”

  “Just don’t expect us to stop and pick you up,” Ramsey joked. “You can join us in battle at your leisure.”

  “Duly noted,” Ranen said.

  “I won’t allow my imagination to bestow additional powers onto Vellan,” Eucádus continued. “Such an attitude will not aid us in battle. Besides, if we…” Another roll of thunder rumbled, sounding closer than the previous ones. Yet this particular incarnation, starting low and deep like a dragon’s growl, grew louder each moment. Eucádus looked up, glancing ahead with a puzzled look. “That’s not thunder,” he whispered apprehensively, pointing to a swath of trees at the base of a small hill less than a quarter mile to their right. He said nothing more as frantic shouts from within the company of soldiers farther ahead suddenly filled the air.

  Sweeping around the trees at that moment were a hundred enemy soldiers on horseback, galloping like crazed men directly at the King’s army. With their swords aloft and clouded eyes fixed on the front line, the men of Kargoth and some of their Island recruits stampeded across the grassy terrain, prepared to plow through the approaching forces like a wildly released arrow. Eucádus and many others immediately broke ranks and rode out to meet the surprise assault head on.

  “It’s the Kincarin Plains all over again!” Ramsey shouted to Ranen as they galloped side by side toward the onslaught.

  “Only then it was but a handful of the enemy,” he replied, his face tight and his eyes fixed forward. “This time Vellan sends us a greater force to test our readiness, but they shall meet the same fate!”

  The two forces collided in a wide expanse of gently rolling land close to the river as clumps of mud and grass burst forth beneath the pounding horse hooves. Distant rolls of thunder still riddled the thick, gray clouds above. The clash of swords sounded faint from a distance as most of the army was still catching up to where the battle had begun. Kings Justin and Cedric, who had been earlier riding up and down the lines, swiftly rode to the front and dispatched additional units to the skirmish. A volley of arrows streaked low across the sky, sent by a group of the King’s archers who targeted some of Vellan’s men and toppled them from their horses. Other fighters from Kargoth leapt from their charging steeds with reckless abandon and zeroed in on their opponents, knocking some off the saddle and engaging them in sword fights or hand-to-hand brawls on the grass-tangled ground. When King Cedric looked to consult with Captain Silas who had been with them only moments ago, he worriedly noted that the soldier from Rhiál was riding out to join his comrades in the fray.

  “Since he is serving as King Victor’s representative, Silas should know the appropriate time to join his troops in a fight and when to direct their movements.”

  “He is still young, Cedric, and that will always trump protocol,” King Justin said. “His fighting instincts took over. Besides, I think Captain Silas still feels he has a debt to repay us on behalf of Rhiál. I will not deny him that opportunity if his heart is so moved.”

  “Nor will I,” he replied with a resigned shake of his head. “Still, it would be a severe blow to the people of Rhiál and Maranac to lose such a fine soldier while they regain their footing.”

  “My sentiments exactly,” King Rowan said, riding up between the two Kings with Brendan and William close behind. “They were equally prepared to rush out on a whim,” he added, indicating his two grandsons. “But I held them back.”

  “Grandfather, I am more than ready to hold my own against one of Vellan’s soldiers,” Prince Brendan remarked with subdued frustration.

  “I am not questioning your abilities, Brendan, and you will get your chance,” he replied as the clash was already winding down. “But have some pity on a grandfather who has just gotten his grandson back from the dead and is prepared to do anything to return him in one piece to his stil
l grieving mother.” King Rowan smiled. “At least humor me until we reach Del Norác. I have earned that much.”

  Brendan and William nodded as they watched the last fights play out. Most of Vellan’s men lay dead or dying as they had driven headlong into an overwhelming force. Arrondale and its allies also suffered grievous losses, though far fewer. Army physicians swooped in upon the injured as the remaining conflicts spread to the periphery along the riverbank or near a thicket of trees on the opposite side of the field. Eucádus and Captain Tiber, having met and drawn swords together, galloped back to the waiting monarchs.

  “Your report?” King Justin asked, his voice on edge.

  “We dispatched Vellan’s men with swift precision,” Eucádus replied. “Or nearly so,” he added as he stroked Chestnut’s mane to calm him. “A few enemy soldiers have taken their fight to the fringes.” He indicated the small battles along the water to his left and near the trees off to the right.

  “And our men?” King Cedric asked, eyeing his captain.

  “We lost three,” Captain Tiber sadly informed him, the young soldier’s brow damp with sweat. “The enemy charged at us without concern for their own lives, as if they had expected to be killed. Twelve more of our troops at last count have sustained injuries, a few of them serious. But I fear that by the suddenness of this attack, some of our advance scouts may have already met an untimely demise before they could send us word.”

  “I’ll dispatch a few men to search beyond the trees near that hill,” King Rowan said, pointing right. “That is where the scoundrels revealed their presence.” He turned to his grandsons, eyeing them grimly yet with a reassuring tone of confidence. “Brendan, you will lead the search with your brother. Recruit a number of soldiers from the lines you deem sufficient and make haste.”