Legends of Windemere: 03 - Allure of the Gypsies

by Charles E Yallowitz

  “There are a handful of reasons, which make me feel that I should return within the year. Most importantly, I know very little about the politics of Gods’ Voice,” Aedyn admits, running a hand through his hair. “It will take many years to learn the nuances of this city and forge a decent amount of contacts. By joining the local Durag temple as a stationary priest, I can make political contacts and learn the policies of the city with relative ease. I would also need to establish a reputation in the area, so as to make my appointment to your council a sensible choice. If you appointed a wandering priest to your council then it might come off as you blindly giving positions of power and influence to your friends. This would make you appear foolish and weaken your position as Duchess of Serab.”

  The priest shifts in his seat as another reason crosses his mind. Cautiously picking his words, Aedyn continues, “Then, there is the matter of my family history and my infamous . . . issues with my father. Settling the problems with my father would be essential to me becoming a viable council member. Otherwise, any decision I make against the nobility could be painted as retaliation against people who are like my father. It may sound ridiculous, but it is a very real possibility that I wish to avoid. As you can see, there is much preparation on my part before I can accept truly your offer, Kellia.”

  Silence covers the small group for several minutes before Luke speaks. “Sounds like you’ve given this a lot of thought.”

  “Maybe you should stay in Gods’ Voice instead of traveling with us,” Nyx half-heartedly suggests.

  Aedyn shakes his head and holds up his hand. “I promised Luke that I would go with him to Haven and it would be wrong for me to break that promise. Besides, I want to meet his family and hear their stories. I can only imagine the trouble you caused as a child, Luke. It is my right as your friend to hear such tales from the source.”

  “That sounds like fun. I wish I could go too,” Kellia says, grinning at the thought of Luke’s embarrassment.

  “Why does everyone enjoy my suffering?” Luke whimpers with a feeble attempt at a puppy-dog expression. Nyx flicks a grape at him and he effortlessly catches it in his mouth. The grape explodes into a sticky, purple goop, which leaves Luke struggling to open his mouth.

  “I might have made that spell a bit too potent,” Nyx nervously laughs.

  Kellia watches the struggling forest tracker with concern. “Can he breathe?”

  “As long as his nose isn’t stuffed up,” Nyx answers, giggling at Luke’s muffled cursing. “I should take Luke to my room where I can reverse the spell with a dissolving cream. I’d try another spell, but I don’t want to damage his mouth.”

  “I understand,” Kellia says.

  “Take care of yourself, Kellia. Keep those spoiled nobles in line for me,” Nyx jokes, giving the heiress a friendly hug.

  Luke gives Kellia a muffled good-bye while waving his arms frantically until his face starts to turn purple. She can’t stop herself from laughing even when Luke glares at her angrily. Kellia calms down enough to give Luke a back-cracking hug. Once she lets go, the forest tracker returns the favor with a solid punch to her arm. He nimbly sidesteps her attempt to hit him back. Luke bounces off the table and flicks Kellia on the top of her head as he flips over her. He races off across the stepping stones and disappears into the garden.

  “I believe little brother is saying that he’ll miss you and he wants you to take care of yourself,” Nyx translates before she slowly follows Luke.

  Kellia sighs while watching the caster walk out of view. “My life feels boring already.”

  5

  The crimson candles flicker throughout Kalam’s lab every time a stale breeze wafts in from a ceiling vent. A low rumbling from deep within the lab echoes through the walls as the white-scaled caster, Kalam, sits in his bleeding chair. The chair has been moved to the far end of a rust-covered table where he has laid out maps of the surrounding forests and the nearby town of Haven. A scroll with a short list of undead creatures and numbers is crumpled in Kalam’s right fist. He stares coldly across the table at the Lich who is resting his bony chin on his right hand. The Lich grinds his elbow into the table, which causes a high-pitched screech that sets his old master’s teeth on edge. The necrocasters continue glaring at each other in silence until Kalam clears his throat and speaks.

  “You’re an idiot,” the vampire states.

  “Why is that?” the Lich asks with disdain.

  “You lack any understanding of utilizing the terrain in your strategies,” Kalam casually replies.

  “There is nothing wrong with my plan,” the Lich argues, his bony finger pointing at the map. “We attack from the forests on the eastern side of Haven, which will allow us to use the trees for cover. By drawing the local warriors into the forest, we can snare them in traps and take them out with minimal losses to our forces.” Kalam pulls his claws across the table to create an ear-wrenching shriek. The Lich grins in amusement and points to where his ears would be if he had flesh.

  “Your plan would work in some situations, but it would fail in this region. The warriors of Haven are composed of archers and speed fighters with only a handful of armored knights who reside at Goldheart Manor. All of them are trained to battle in the forests, so to face them among the trees would give us a disadvantage,” the vampire patiently explains. “Your plan also requires that we spend three hours traveling through the forest in order to circle to the eastern side without coming too close to the town. Even your typical army causes the local fauna to retreat from the area, so you can imagine the reaction to an undead army. Talos Callindor is the greatest forest tracker of today. He will see the signs and prepare the local warriors for our attack. I don’t expect a surprise attack, but I would like to give them as little time as possible to prepare. Now, do you see how the terrain is important to our plans? The most obvious use of terrain is not always the most beneficial to the attacking force.”

  “I understand. Still, the army will have you with them. What are a few warriors to your power?” the Lich compliments his old teacher, hoping to win with flattery.

  “I will not touch the warriors,” Kalam swears, his voice making it clear that he will not reconsider. “My only target is Isaiah and he will acknowledge my challenge as a one-on-one duel. If I attack anyone else then I will have to deal with unwanted interferences. The duel must be kept separate from the rest of the battle even though it will take place in the same location. It will be a delicate situation that requires all of my concentration.”

  Kalam’s stomach begins to rumble and his fangs start to grow. He takes a deep breath and strands of blood rise from his chair. The strands swirl in the air before entering Kalam’s body through his nostrils and giving his pale scales a faint glow.

  The Lich leans back in his crude chair of scrap metal and stares at the maps laid out before him. He looks thoughtfully at the forests that hug the eastern and western borders of Haven. A solitary building in the west sits on a flattop hill, but it is too far away to be of any concern to him. With a dusty cough, the Lich moves his attention to the northern map, which is nothing more than a large clearing. A thin river with four bridges snakes its way through the clearing. Two structures are noted in the northern region, which the Lich assumes are windmills from their pictures.

  “These maps are too simple,” the Lich complains.

  “They are all we need to stage an attack,” Kalam says in exasperation. “Haven is not our true target, so there is no reason to attack the town itself. To do so would bring the wrath of too many people upon us.”

  “Does it matter? This town will eventually be destroyed by my master,” the Lich points out, an evil grin growing under his cowl.

  Kalam rolls his eyes and scoffs at the Lich’s faith. “Do not put faith in dreams until they have become reality.”

  “I disagree, sir. There are many who are driven entirely by their dreams. They thrive from the challenge of making their dreams a reality,” interrupts a female voice from behind
the fireskin. Kalam clumsily turns his rocking chair around and sees Trinity juggling four sapphires, which are each the size of a walnut.

  “Who are you?” Kalam snarls.

  “This is one of my allies, old master. May I introduce Trinity, the queen of the chaos elves,” the Lich announces with very little enthusiasm. He ignores Trinity’s rude hand gesture while she switches to juggling the sapphires with one hand.

  “A pleasure to meet a lady such as yourself,” Kalam says, his smile wide and predatory. “I must admit that this is a divine treat. I have heard rumors of the powerful chaos elf queen who can sustain three enhancer gems. Please, have a seat.”

  Trinity stops her juggling and drops the sapphires into a nearby pile of gold coins and rubies. She saunters over to the table where invisible servants have moved a shiny chair of polished iron with blue cushions. Trinity puts her feet on the table in order to rub at her legs, which are aching from days of being on the road. She cringes at the sound of her hands rubbing along the tight, filthy leather of her clothing.

  “Thank you for your hospitality, Lord Kalam,” Trinity achingly groans with a yawn. “You wouldn’t by chance have a place where I can bathe. I’ve been on the road for so long.”

  Kalam begins rocking in his chair, absorbing the blood that seeps from it. “Of course, my dear, I would not be a proper host if I denied your simple request. I will have one of my servants prepare a guest room for you. Now, what brings you to my lair?”

  “You never gave me a guest room,” the Lich mutters like an indignant child. “I’m stuck in my old room next to the frozen corpse pantry. Damn mushrooms keep growing in my eye sockets overnight because of the moisture.”

  “Stop complaining. It’s pathetic,” Trinity snaps.

  “Do not start with me, woman.”

  “Woman? That the best you can do?”

  “I would call you worse, but that would be taking the low road.”

  “Poor little Lich, you’ve always been trapped on the low road,” she declares, picking a cobweb off her shoulder. “That’s why you keep getting pushed around by the rest of us.”

  “Whore!” the Lich shouts.

  “That one doesn’t really pertain to me. Try again,” Trinity replies, a bored grin on her face.

  She turns away from the Lich while pretending to wave him away. The cloaked necrocaster mutters under his rotten breath before crossing his arms and leaning on the table. Kalam erupts in belly-shaking laughter at the exchange and has to wipe a bloody tear from his eye before he can regain his composure.

  “It is good to see that my old apprentice has someone to keep him in line,” Kalam happily declares. “Now, I do hope that you will entertain my previous question, pure maiden.”

  “I like that title. I will gladly tell you why I am here, good sir,” Trinity says with a wicked smile. “I am simply dropping off a package, so think of me as a . . . pure delivery girl.”

  Kalam’s eyes narrow in anticipation. “Did you bring what I was promised?”

  “Yes. I left your new gypsy girl sleeping in a dungeon cell with one of the other girls you had there. You really should put the cell keys in a better hiding place. The stomach of a starving hellhound is far too obvious,” replies Trinity matter-of-factly. “Oh, you might want to summon another guard dog too.”

  “I can see that you uphold your people’s reputation of causing trouble,” Kalam states, his claws tapping his knee.

  Trinity grins and licks her lips. “It’s my way.”

  “Enough of this useless chatter!” exclaims the Lich.

  A hand of heat forms near the Lich and smacks him across the face. His cowl falls back to reveal his skinless skull, which is covered on top with a thin layer of fluorescent yellow mold. The Lich glares with blazing eyes at Trinity after he pulls the cowl back over his head. She laughs gently at the Lich before pointing at Kalam, whose gray pupils glint with anger and disappointment.

  “I taught you better than that,” Kalam hisses, his reptilian tongue briefly flicking out of his mouth.

  “Do not pretend to understand the relationship that I have with this woman,” the Lich says with a skeletal finger aimed at Trinity. “We are nothing more than allies and tentative ones at time. She would shed no tears for my destruction, so there is no reason for me to be polite when she is distracting us from our preparations. There is much work to be done, teacher.”

  “These are my preparations!” Kalam furiously bellows. He rises to his foot and supports his weight with his staff. “You are nothing more than an observer who I have permitted to live under my roof! Do not forget that!”

  The Lich reflexively edges away. “Yes, teacher.”

  “What is your plan of attack?” Trinity asks in an attempt to get Kalam to settle down. She magically stretches her arm across the table, so that she can gently stroke the necrocaster’s beard. Kalam begins to calm down once she begins rubbing her thumb against his exposed fang.

  Kalam slowly recovers his composure and bows his head to Trinity. “I apologize for my outburst. A gentleman should never reveal such anger in the presence of a lady. Now, my plan of attack is rather simple. I currently have an expendable army of two-hundred skeletons, fifty zombies, and a few water ghasts. The zombies range from human to centaur, so they should be able to keep the experienced warriors occupied while I attend to my brother. Even if this army is completely destroyed, they should give me enough time to settle my business.” Kalam pauses to careful study his notes while he talks. “At the very least, I can gauge Isaiah’s current power limits before calling a retreat. I am more than willing to use some of the forces that the Lich has promised me for a second attack. As much as I would like to finish this business with a single strike, I know too little about these children who your master wants eliminated. It may take two attempts to achieve all of our goals.”

  “It is best to use your full power when you know exactly what you are up against,” Trinity mentions, her interest piqued. “I agree with your strategy, but where will you attack from? The forest seems the most likely choice.”

  “I already suggested that and got scolded,” the Lich says. Trinity gets the feeling that the Lich is pouting within the shadow of his cowl. She can only wonder what that would look like without lips and skin.

  “The quickest path to Haven is from the north, so we will battle in the northern clearing. They use the area for grazing livestock, seasonal festivals, and a yearly tournament of warriors, so it is well-maintained and flat. I will be positioning the skeletons in the front of the army in order to give cover to the water ghasts. The water ghasts can utilize the river for their attacks. The zombies will be a few steps behind the skeletons since there are some that have retained the ability to use longbows. They will fire until out of arrows while the rest of the army rushes forward,” explains the vampire with growing pride. “As for myself, I will enter the battle once Isaiah arrives and no sooner than that. I would not want to get involved before I can confirm that my true enemy will appear. Doing things this way will give us the best chance for success.”

  “Do you want us to join you?” the Lich asks.

  Kalam scratches his shoulder, sending a few old scales to the ground. “No. These young heroes are unaware of my temporary alliance with you. If you were to arrive on the battlefield then they may assume that it is a trap and act with an increased amount of caution. They might even run away, which means my brother will not show himself. I would like to keep this battle under my personal control.”

  “As you wish,” the Lich hisses, his voice resembling an acidic wind.

  “It’s your show, Kalam,” Trinity happily concedes. “Now, I am going to enjoy that bath. Give your new toy some time to adjust to her surroundings. She’s got a lot of fight in her, so don’t let your guard down.” Trinity slips out of the comfortable chair and waves at Kalam before making her way toward the far side of the lab. The chaos elf passes through an illusionary wall without slowing down.

  “You are lu
cky to have a powerful ally like her. Too bad she is not to be fully trusted,” declares the vampire, absorbing more blood from his rocking chair.

  “You don’t trust her? I couldn’t tell since you were being so nice to her,” the Lich says, openly mocking his old teacher.

  “You misunderstand me, Tyler,” Kalam sighs in disappointment. “She is still a lady and she means me no harm, so I was genuinely polite to her.”

  The Lich looks at him, his mouth a confused frown. “Then, why don’t you trust her?”

  “It isn’t me who shouldn’t trust her. It is you that should be wary of the chaos elf queen,” Kalam warns him in a hushed voice. “She has no problem making you out to be nothing more than a fool. Keep her at arm’s length and watch her carefully. Too bad you are not like me, Tyler. You see, I don’t trust anyone.”

  The vampire begins to fade from view before the Lich can say anything. A sound, which resembles a hiss of escaping steam, fills the room as soon as Kalam disappears. The Lich lazily watches a cloud of silver dust drift through the air and vanish into the shadows.

  “Advise me as much as you want, old fool. Whether I take the Callindor’s head or your spellbook, it makes no difference to me,” the Lich grumbles before he goes back to studying the maps.

  *****

  Sari’s eyes flutter open when she feels a cool impact on her cheek. She stops herself from panicking by concentrating on the drop of water trailing down her face. The gypsy slowly sits up, which causes a numb sensation rippling through her back. Sari can tell that she is in a dungeon as soon as her eyes adjust to the gloom. Another panic attack begins as the gypsy stares at the polished bars that tease her by showing her freedom is a few inches away. It isn’t long before she can no longer hear anything over the sound of her wheezing, ragged breath. Sari is about to faint when a gentle hand touches her shoulder and shakes her from her horrifying trance.