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

by Thomas J. Prestopnik

  “You’ve forced my hand!” he said, his face contorted with rage as he loomed over his prisoners. “Rather than be Vellan’s servants in your own land, you will instead be reduced to corpses, rendering Montavia a desolate, kingless realm. You and King Rowan will be forgotten in time, so savor that hollow legacy!” he said while raising his sword to slay them on the spot. “It’s all you’ll have left after you’re–”

  Meegs suddenly went silent as he turned, his mouth agape and eyes wide as an armed horseman barreled down upon him, the tip of his sword blazing with moonlight. Meegs barely had time to step backward and fend off the oncoming strike, stunned to near paralysis when the dark haired, unshaven soldier leaped off the charging horse and tackled him to the ground. In one fluid motion, the horsemen unsheathed a dagger and brought it down upon Meegs, killing him instantly before he could utter a word. The cloudiness within his open, lifeless eyes slowly faded beneath the strengthening glow of the Fox and Bear moons. The soldier rushed to William and Brendan who sat staring in awe.

  “Did you plan that grand entrance?” William asked with a grin. “Or did it just happen to work out that way?”

  “Definitely the latter,” Ramsey replied as he knelt down and cut their binding ropes. “And lucky for you it did.”

  “We can’t thank you enough,” Brendan said as Ramsey extended them each a helping hand to get back on their feet.

  “No need,” he replied. “In Rhiál, your brother dramatically saved my life while crouched in the branches of a tree. I thought I’d return the favor. We’ll call it even now.”

  “I’ll call it amazing,” William said, watching in wonderment as King Cedric and his troops swiftly put an end to Meegs’ men. Soon the King and Tolapari trotted over on their horses and looked down upon the two princes.

  “I’m delighted beyond words to see both of you breathing and uninjured,” King Cedric remarked with a sigh of relief. “But where is your grandfather? I wish to speak with him. There are still war fires blazing all around us.”

  Any traces of buoyant enthusiasm quickly faded from William and Brendan’s faces, replaced with pained and stony expressions. Everyone knew at once that the news would not be good. Brendan pointed farther up the field to the spot where King Rowan had made his last stand, unable to speak the dreadful truth.

  “He has passed,” William softly spoke, looking up at King Cedric with glassy eyes. “In his last moments, he saved my brother and me, a debt we can never repay.”

  King Cedric bowed his head, moved by the terrible news. “Your brother can govern Montavia wisely and with boldness in his stead,” he responded after gathering himself. “And you, Prince William, can stand by his side in the coming days. That is how you will both repay your grandfather’s debt.”

  “And we shall,” Brendan replied, nodding with pride as his heart ached.

  King Cedric briefly gazed upon the eastern horizon as the full Fox and Bear moons continued to inch above the mountaintops like two bright, watchful eyes in the heavens. “An augur of good fortune, especially when rising in such a crisp, clear sky. But after the news we just heard, I am not so sure.”

  “Yet I feel this war is slowly turning in our favor,” Tolapari said, gazing upon the dual moons as well. “Perhaps it is a sign of good fortune after all.”

  “Perhaps,” King Cedric replied. He and the wizard followed William, Brendan and Ramsey up the field to King Rowan’s body and away from the river as other fighting continued to rage around them in the distance.

  Suddenly a tremor shook the ground, agitating the horses that nervously came to a stop. Everyone looked up at Mount Minakaris, instinctively knowing that it was the focal point of the brief vibration.

  “What was that?” Ramsey asked.

  “I’m not sure,” Tolapari replied, combing a hand through his mop of dark hair, visibly distressed.

  “Another sign of good fortune?” Brendan said skeptically.

  “Nothing about that felt or sounded good,” William replied as he cast a suspicious eye upon the looming mountain.

  Nicholas, Leo and Mune walked to the end of the corridor where they spotted a metal door on the right. It stood ajar, a cool current of air drifting through. Mune carefully pushed it open and stepped into the shadowy chamber. Nicholas and Leo followed, fanning out among the stone pillars to explore. But Nicholas had only taken a few steps when he saw a solitary figure silhouetted against one of the tall arches in the faint glow of the rising moons and the setting sun. When he noted the colorful cloak draped around the person’s shoulders, he knew immediately whom he had found.

  “Carmella!” he said, hurrying to her.

  Upon hearing his voice, she turned around. Her face, wet with teardrops, registered both surprise and joy when she saw him and Leo standing there. Mune kept a cautious distance behind them. She threw her arms around Nicholas and sobbed.

  “What happened?” he asked after giving her a moment to compose herself.

  “A terrible thing,” she said, shaking, her voice hoarse from crying. “Oh, a most terrible thing, Nicholas! And I fear I’m partly to blame.”

  She explained what had transpired between her and Madeline. Leo leaned over one of the sills and peered down to the coursing stream below, realizing that no one could have survived such a fall. He and Nicholas expressed their deepest sorrow, after which, Carmella insisted on hearing their story. Nicholas explained everything, including their last-minute alliance with Mune. Though knowing Carmella harbored mixed feelings toward him, Mune said he was sorry that Madeline was driven to such a bitter end.

  “Though many times she had pushed me to the brink of madness, she certainly didn’t deserve this,” he said, wiping away a tear. “Caldurian did a horrible thing,” he added, catching Carmella’s steely gaze. “Well, I shouldn’t talk, right?”

  “Let’s just find Ivy and get out of here,” Nicholas said.

  “You know where she is?” Carmella asked, taking his hand.

  His heart froze as the last bit of hope drifted through the open archways into the dying day. “No,” he whispered, crestfallen. “Don’t you?”

  Carmella shook her head. “When Liney released me from my room, Ivy and the guards were already gone. My cousin refused to tell me where they were going.”

  “So we’re back where we started.” Nicholas looked at Mune for direction. “Where do we go now? And we haven’t much time according to Frist.” He glanced at Leo who leaned against one of the arches, visibly tired. “Are you all right? Is the amulet helping?”

  “I’m no worse,” he said with a faint smile. “But even with Frist’s help, I expect my recovery won’t be swift. But I’ll still be able to leave when you’re ready,” he promised, gazing out the archway again. He breathed in the fresh air which revived his spirits.

  “Mune, tell me where to search,” Nicholas pleaded. “Where would Madeline have ordered the guards to take Ivy?”

  “The stronghold?” he suggested, not certain of Madeline’s intentions. “Ivy would be well protected from rescue down below. Then again, after all the trouble and inconvenience Ivy caused after we kidnapped her, Madeline might have even considered–” He caught himself, not willing to utter the words on his mind. But by their horrified looks, he knew that Nicholas and Carmella had surmised his ghastly thought.

  “She wouldn’t have!” Nicholas cried. “Not even Madeline would order Ivy’s death on a whim. I know she’s done some terrible things, but that?”

  “I can’t see her doing that either,” Carmella agreed before slowly reconsidering her words. “Then again, Liney was under the influence of that awful potion. I can’t begin to imagine how it might have twisted her faculties.”

  “I won’t allow myself to think it!” Nicholas insisted, his patience near a breaking point. “Mune, just make your best guess and tell us where to go.”

  “Nicholas!” Leo shouted. He turned away from the arch and looked up with nervous excitement. “You may not have to go far,” he said, indic
ating for them to draw near. “Take a look at that dirt road along the stream.”

  Nicholas hurried over and peered down at the rushing waters not yet fully hidden beneath a stretch of budding trees. He vaguely distinguished the outlines of three people walking down a narrow dirt road east of the stream in the dusky shadows. Two, by the looks of their garments, were soldiers of Kargoth. The third individual between them, shorter in height and wearing a long cloak, was a woman with light brown hair flowing down her shoulders. Nicholas immediately identified the figure in the dimming light.

  “Ivy,” he whispered, his heart pounding, his mind on fire. But to his horror, Ivy wasn’t walking freely with the two men but was being pulled along against her will. To where, he didn’t know, but Nicholas vowed not to let her disappear into the wilderness. “Ivy!” he shouted, his words carried away on a breeze. “Ivy!” While struggling to free herself, the woman seemed to have heard something and briefly turned her head. “She can’t see me way up here!” Nicholas said frantically, running to Mune. “Tell me how to get down there!”

  “What are you going to do?” Leo asked.

  “Save her!” he replied, glancing at Mune for instructions.

  “Go down two more levels and head east along the corridor,” he said. “When you reach the last door on your right, it will lead to another short passageway and then to the outdoors. But I can’t promise if any guards will be about.”

  “All I want are directions.”

  Leo stepped forward. “I’m going with you.”

  Nicholas, with an appreciative smile, held his friend back. “No offense, Leo, but you won’t be able to keep up with me in your condition. Your job right now is to hold onto that amulet and let Frist bring you back to health.”

  “A weapon!” Carmella said. “You don’t have a weapon!”

  Nicholas held up Vellan’s head cloth with the dagger still wrapped inside. “I have this for starters. I’ll figure out the rest along the way!” he shouted, hurrying to the door. “Now all of you get out of here fast!” He then slipped out of the chamber into the candlelit corridor, rushing for the exit.

  Moments later, Nicholas was barreling down a steep set of stairs with his hand against the wall to steady himself, glad that no one else was around. He hurried down a second flight, stopping at an archway on the bottom landing that led into the corridor he sought. He peered into the passageway which was much wider than the ones above and lit with a series of oil lamps similar to those in Deshla prison. He presumed that this area had much more foot traffic than Vellan’s personal quarters above, but at the moment, everything was eerily still. Knowing that time was against him, Nicholas darted into the corridor and turned left, hoping for the best as he moved swiftly down the passageway.

  Though the corridors had been cut progressively longer both east and west around the mountain on each descending level, Nicholas noted very few chambers on the interior wall to his left to make use of the extra space. To his relief, the doors to each of the rooms were closed. With a rapidly beating heart, he plowed onward, spotting the last two oil lamps just ahead. Each was attached on either side of a metal door to the right with a thin eye slot in its center. With large riveted hinges and an imposing look, the door reminded him of the one he and Leo had stepped through behind the tapestry upon first entering Vellan’s abode. This door, however, needed no key and was instead locked with a large sliding bolt that had been slid to one side in the unlocked position. Guessing that Ivy and the two guards had recently passed through, Nicholas cautiously pushed open the door.

  He was greeted by the gloom of a short tunnel. Suspended from the center of the low ceiling was an oil lamp producing a sickly light that guided him to the other end and another metal door. It was also unlocked, and through the eye slit, Nicholas saw the faint light of the day’s end and a way out of the mountain. He paused before pushing the door open, detecting an odor of smoke. He sniffed the air and realized what he was smelling–pipe smoke. After peering through the slot, his worst suspicion was confirmed. A soldier from Kargoth, grim and unshaven, stood several yards away near a thicket of saplings, smoking a pipe while on guard duty. But knowing that Ivy needed him now more than ever, Nicholas pulled open the door and raced outside, not caring how many soldiers were waiting in the dusky light. But there was only the one guard who tossed aside his pipe, unsheathed a sword and jumped in front of Nicholas to block his way.

  “In the name of Vellan, who are you?” His gruff voice rose above the sound of rushing stream water in the near distance. The guard suspiciously eyed Nicholas and the bundle clutched in his hand. “And where’d you come from?”

  With his senses reeling, Nicholas uttered the first thing that came to his mind. “I’ve come with terrible news about Vellan!” he said, staring down the soldier. “I was told by Madeline to deliver it to all the guards.”

  “I don’t believe you,” he muttered, taking a step forward. “I think you’re a spy.”

  “I have proof!” Nicholas said, holding up the wizard’s head wrap. “Proof to verify my claim that Vellan is dead.”

  “Dead?” The soldier, under the river’s influence, clenched his jaw with anger that anyone would say such a thing about his glorious leader. “I should kill you for uttering such traitorous words, but that would deny Vellan the pleasure of witnessing your death.”

  “It’s not a lie!” Nicholas insisted, fearing that Ivy was slipping away. “This material that I hold is the very head covering from Vellan himself.” He held up the bundled cloth. “Madeline asked me to deliver it to the garrison in Del Norác.”

  The soldier noted the familiar dark gray color of the material and wondered if Nicholas might be telling the truth. “Where are your written orders? And why would you go into the city with this information instead of directly to the stronghold below?”

  “Another messenger was already sent there,” he said, his patience wearing thin. “You must not delay me or you’ll have to deal with Madeline’s wrath.”

  The soldier furrowed his brow, still not convinced. “Give me the head wrap!” he ordered, signaling for Nicholas to step forward. He extended his left hand while keeping the weapon raised in his right. “I’ll be the judge of where you’ll go.”

  “And I’ll be in violation of my orders,” he replied with feigned apprehension. “I could get into serious trouble if I give this to you.”

  “I’ll give you serious trouble if you don’t!” he snapped. “Let me have it!”

  “If you insist,” Nicholas said with a defeated sigh. He stepped forward as the soldier gazed at him for any sign of deception, the palm of his outstretched hand eagerly waiting to receive the bundle of cloth. “Here you are,” he whispered, slowly raising the head wrap as if reluctant to place it into the soldier’s hand.

  In a swift, single motion, Nicholas slammed the rolled end of the material onto the man’s palm. The guard burst out in a bloodcurdling cry as the point of the concealed dagger pierced his hand, sending a bolt of excruciating pain through his body. He dropped his sword and collapsed to the ground, writhing in agony as he yanked the knife from his bloodied skin and bone with an anguished howl. Nicholas, at the same time, swooped down, grabbed the sword and leaped over the soldier. He fled to the nearby dirt road that wound among a swath of budding trees, scattered pines and vibrant green undergrowth.

  Nicholas raced down the road which ran parallel to a wide stream on his right, its frothy waters cascading over mossy covered rocks. But he had run only a short distance when the stream curved sharply to the left for a stretch directly in front of him before gradually straightening out again and coursing down the mountainside. A small stone bridge spanned the stream at that point. Nicholas scrambled over it, clutching the sword as he shouted out Ivy’s name. When he reached the dirt road on the opposite side, the stream now flowed to his left. On the right side of the road where a portion of the land sloped steeply downward, a low wall of rounded, weather-beaten stones had been constructed following the p
ath of the road for nearly a quarter mile down the mountain.

  As Nicholas picked up speed, the trio of figures finally came into view. All moved away from him less than fifty yards ahead. He charged on with silent fury, his heart racing, his lungs burning and his eyes desperately fixed upon Ivy as she grew closer in his sight. To the west beyond the trees, the last red and orange rays of the setting sun filtered through the branches, highlighting their fleshy tips like soft, burning flames. In the east, the diamond white radiance from the rising full moons peeked over the distant mountaintops, stringing the budding leaves and creaking limbs with webs of gauzy light.

  “Ivy!” he called out as he drew near, capturing their attention.

  “Nicholas?” she cried in disbelief, struggling to look back. But the two soldiers pulled her forward, determined to fulfill Vellan’s last request. “Nicholas!”

  “I’m here, Ivy!” he shouted, gripping his sword as the distance between them melted away.

  The soldiers from Kargoth finally took serious notice of their pursuer, throwing worried glances over their shoulders before coming to a halt. They turned around and faced Nicholas while tightly holding Ivy’s arms on each side. Nicholas, at last seeing the woman he so dearly loved, came to a sudden stop just a few feet away, his weapon poised and ready to strike.

  “Let her go!” he said, his calm, steady words floating upon a sea of rage as the soldiers looked on with uncertainty in their clouded eyes. “I said let her go!”

  “Nicholas, how did you find me?” Ivy breathlessly asked, her weary face glowing with hope and amazement at his presence.