"That is a question for you, Lord Myosk, not for a simple mercenary like myself. We have, as you have just stated, completed your assignment on good faith and are due the promised compensation," the leader of the mercenaries stated.
"I do not call into question that you have indeed presented the requested information to me before the hour I requested; however, given the evidence submitted by my very own scouts, I do question the manner in which yours was collected," the Lord smoothly retorted.
"Do you question the manner in which two of our companions were slaughtered during a confrontation with a few members of the non-existent Dark Army?" Dianali said before Borinth could for his response.
"Know your place, woman!" said the slender man at Lord Myosk's side.
"Easy now, Trisick. I think they are just upset that we have discovered their ruse," Lord Myosk said as he looked to his right.
"My Lord Myosk," it was again Borinth who spoke next asserting his authority as leader of the mercenaries, "to believe our information is a ruse simply to receive payment is well within your rights. However, it stands that they are coming, and coming soon."
Lord Myosk paused in silence, seemingly searching for the truth in Borinth. When the moment of silence was just bordering on its awkward edge, he turned to Trisick and asked, "What do you think, Lord Trisick? What shall we do so confronted with opposing beliefs?"
Looking directly at Dianali, and the tall and slender man spoke quietly, but there was no mistaking the challenge issued, "It seems to me, My Lord Myosk, that this is really a matter of time. All things will be revealed through it. So I propose we wait and see. Should the mercenary's information prove correct, and we find ourselves facing a Dark Army on our doorstep, I am quite certain they will be present to ensure our victory and their reimbursement. And should no army appear at all, well, they will not be paid."
Before Borinth was able to offer his opinion, a loud voice resonated throughout the large throne room, "How can it be that the claims of these hired mercenaries are drawn into question? What would be their motivation for deception?"
Looking toward the back of the room, Lord Myosk found the individual responsible for interrupting their current dilemma. "High Wizard, Intellos. How good of you to join us, though I must admit, I doubted you had received my summons what with the late hour of your arrival."
"Summons? I had received no summons. Furthermore, I had been informed that you would be very much occupied for another day. It was only by chance I came here today," he spoke as he continued walking to the front of the throne room to stand next to Borinth. Zyndalia had glanced to Ronialdin as the wizard was speaking, who looked back with a stare reflecting his growing frustration.
"Well, then it is a fortunate chance indeed, because we are in need of wise council at the moment. We are in the middle of a dilemma. A dilemma of truth and belief as you say. We are trying to ferret out the validity of Borinth's claims to the coming arrival of a dark army when my own loyal scouts have found no trace of them. What do you say, Grand Wizard Intellos? Do you possess any insight into the ability of possibly concealing such a force that Borinth claims is ready and waiting?" he spoke to Intellos.
"In regards to the capability of magic to conceal an army, it would require a spell of such force and magnitude it would undoubtedly leave a signature large enough for even a novice to detect. And since there has been no such signature, then I would say that no such army has been concealed by our magic," he answered Lord Myosk.
However, before he could continue, for he did have more to say, the Lord interrupted him. "Very well, there you have it! There is no possible way an army could be concealed and still remain undetected to other wizards. My own wizards have not detected anything. Furthermore, we have the Grand Wizard standing right here stating the same. Indeed Borinth, your ruse has been discovered!"
It was Intellos who spoke again, "I did not say it was not possible to conceal an army with magic. What I was saying is that with our current understanding of the magic we wield, it would result in a detectable signature. But because there was none, there are two possibilities, only one of which you stated. True, there may be no army indeed; however, let us explore the possibility that the Dark Army is very much real. If that be true, and if they be concealed, then the only conclusion we can draw is the existence of another yet undiscovered form of magic; a magic that leaves no discernable signature to detect. I am here to propose that to you now. I have encountered this magic, and I can assure you of its reality. So it is that I agree with these mercenaries. There is a Dark Army, it is being concealed by an unknown type of magic, and it will soon be at your gates seeking to take the Stone Keep."
Almost slithering from the shadows behind the throne emerged three cloaked and hooded figures. Such was their secrecy and hidden presence, that neither Borinth nor Intellos had been aware of them before they chose to reveal themselves. To make room for the three figures, Trisick removed himself from Lord Myosk's side and stood on the lower level, even with Borinth and Intellos. As the three figures removed their hoods, it was the central one who spoke first, "Intellos. How fortunate we find you hear. "
"Bengrako," Intellos said evenly.
Borinth looked to Dianali. Zyndalia looked back to her brother. It was quite clear that there were things quickly approaching that none of them were fully prepared for. The air seemed to grow thick with the palpable tension of a confrontation outmatching anything they had seen before. It was one thing to face a foe they could combat with weaponry, it was quite another to stand in close proximity to powers they could not hope to match. Even Rony, with his new found ability seemed on edge.
"It is not my wish to engulf this room in our dealings. We had hoped to approach you with one more chance to offer you the clemency you so quickly refused during our last attempt, but after hearing your insistence for the validity of this fictitious Dark Army, no doubt created by you in order to perpetuate your propaganda against our magic and knowledge, it has become eminently clear you are beyond hope," Turning toward Lord Myosk, Bengrako continued to speak. "My Lord Myosk, long have your dealings with The University resulted in the prosperity of your great domain. We are sure you have had a great relationship with Intellos, the former High Wizard of the council. But I must, with great sorrow, report to you that he has gone quite mad. He even attempted to inflict this madness upon the rest of the council members stating that he had discovered a magic steeped in something greater than knowledge itself. Make no mistake, My Lord, he will stop at nothing to infect the whole of Avendia with his deranged delusions."
Intellos surveyed his surroundings, seeking to evaluate the possible consequences of another battle between the greatest wizards of Avendia. There would be many casualties, all of which would be placed squarely on his shoulders. Many of them would be innocent including the group of mercenaries who curiously held the same position as did he. His evaluation led him to one conclusion, he must peacefully comply and let be what will be.
"So be it," the wizard said as he lowered his staff.
The next voice was that of Lord Myosk, "Arrest them."
"Them?" spoke Trisick.
"Yes, them. All of them!"
While his mount had the vague resemblance to a great black stallion, its perfectly yellow eyes set against the misted outline of its head betrayed any equestrian lineage. His elite force of Black Cavalry each rode a similar beast across the countryside, though his stood half a size taller. And now, situated within visual detection of the Stone Keep, they would ride his magically summoned creatures into battle.
Magic, as the mortals used it, was such a limiting thing, bound by the understandings of the mortal mind and limited by its inability to understand the eternal. Fueled by rage and hate, two emotions, rather than logical understanding and the presence of the talent, his magic, the greater magic, that shown him by Satan, was open to all. Why should it be limited to those who were "selected" to possess it by some unknown chance or, even w
orse, by God himself? Should not all the powers open to one be open for another? Indeed they would be within his empire. And in a few short hours, that which was promised him would solidify as the beast upon which he rode had solidified out of this magic, for everyone possessed the dark fountain.
As he sat, ready to launch the full scale invasion upon the Silver Empire with the goal of establishing his dark rule, he marveled at how futile his enemy’s attempts had been to construct a barrier capable of withstanding any foe. And while the Stone Keep had stood against all mortal incursions, successfully repelling them from walls that stood nearly forty feet tall and built from a magically strengthened stone, against he and his forces, it would be as if there were no walls at all. Nothing could stop the waves his evil ocean was about to release. Not even The Stone Keep.
It was situated between two impassable mountain ranges that extended hundreds of miles in both directions. There was one and only one way to the spoils of the Silver Empire, and it was through the defenses of The Stone Keep. Formidable as they were, Jesolin assured his generals they would have little effect. When questioned about it, Jesolin simply told them to maintain their focus upon breaching the walls.
Riding up beside him was Vismorda, "My Lord Jesolin, all is ready. We await your command to advance."
"Very well. We have only a short time remaining before it begins," he said as he looked to the tall and strong walls.
"My Lord, a question if you will permit me?" she tentatively asked.
"Of course," he replied.
"I do not doubt our victory, for I believe in our Master, but where are the war machines to assault their walls? Will we not need to break through them to enter the keep itself?" she asked.
"Tell me, Vismorda, how goes the training of my two little ravens?" he asked, still looking at the walls.
"Pardon, My Lord?"
He looked severely at her and repeated his question, "How is the training progressing for my two little twin ravens? Will they be ready for more soon?"
"They are both proving to be very resilient, in their own fashions. They continue to resist, one quietly, and the other with great protest; however, they have begun to display more obedience. It will take a bit more time to break them both, but broken they will become. I dare say, when complete, they will provide you with much amusement."
"That is good," he answered.
"My Lord? The war Machines?"
"Vismorda, when you break them, make sure their wings are thoroughly clipped from questioning that which was not given them to know. For I can see now that yours have not been clipped close enough to the bone," he turned to look at her, "That is something I will have to correct once we are victorious."
"Yes, My Lord," she said and turned to ride back with the rest of her Ravens.
"And Vismorda," he waited until she was almost out of the range of his voice.
"Yes, Lord Jesolin," she half turned.
"Do ensure their survival, even if you do not."
"Yes, My Lord," she said and turned to ride away leaving him with the solitude he desired.
He was not without understanding of her question regarding their lack of war machines. The strength of The Stone Keep was legendary as it had survived attacks from nearly each separate kingdom within the borders of Avendia. None of those potential invasions had accomplished more than scratching its outer walls; and to assume one without the great war machines of those armies would achieve a greater degree of success would be an indication of insanity. But then again, insanity was a matter of perspective. And while theirs was bound in the ties of mortality, his was freed by the boundless potential of immortality. So, while everyone else looked without for the great machines of war of past armies, they failed to look within. Specifically within him and the power he had been given. He need not built them because he had become them.
The sign. Ringing like the bell of his hate born redemption, the crystal clear, single bell of The Stone Keep’s tower was struck two short times signaling an attack from within. Again, another two short bursts of crystal clear chimes signaling the royal guard to marshal in the throne room of the Stone Keep echoed to everything he had become and every promise he was forced to wait upon. There was no mistake. Now was the time. He signaled the advance of his Dark Legion. As one, they began the short progression that would see them at the gates of their triumph within the hour. As instructed, he signaled his Necromancers to lift the veil they had created to conceal the whole of the army. They slowly marched across the distance as a viscous flowing poison travels through the blood vessels on its way to the heart. The fate of this world had been decided exactly as his master had foretold. Satan and his son, the Great Dark Lord Jesolin Kahl had begun to move, and the world of mortals would crumble under its weight.
Breathing slowly, I pulled an arrow from my quiver and inspected it for imperfections. I had completed this task the evening before, but its routine produced a calm state within me, so I chose to repeat it while kneeling on the ledge in preparation. Exactly like the instructions contained within the terms of the contract had set forth, Lord Myosk was seated on his throne, waiting for his heart to be pierced by my arrow. I was able to sense the growing conflict below, but I could not hear their words, or deduce the specific nature of the conflict, and even if I could, I had begun the meditative breathing sequence as taught to me by Kinarin. It was an odd exercise in meditation, for upon its correct performance, ones awareness was heightened while the senses were deadened.
As I inspected the arrow, and placed it at the base of my eye, closing the other, I saw nothing but the perfectly straight wooden shaft produced by the greatest woodsmiths in the land. The shaft was carved from an ancient oak tree whose strength had bonded to an equivalency of forged steel. The feathers on the end of it were equal in their display of mastery. Taken from an albino eagle, they shown a brilliant white and were without flaw. There would be no deviation in my arrow's flight once my grip upon it was loosed.
My bow, carved from the same oak as the arrow, was wetted and bent many more times than any bow either I or Kinarin was familiar with. The tensile strength of the wood was so great that it could be strung only after being carefully heated. I inspected it, inch by inch, aware of raised voices, but confident I was not the object resulting in their elevation. When I was satisfied with the condition of my weapons, I retrieved two more oaken shafts from my quiver and placed them against the railing of the ledge upon which I knelt. I lifted the one I had just inspected, ran my fingers over the feathers, and slowly knocked it. I peered down over the edge just in time to see a robed figure interrupt the confrontation between Lord Myosk and a group of warriors. His appearance was of no consequence. My instruction was to release the arrow when three hooded figures took their place upon the raised dais next to the throne of Lord Myosk. And until then, no such appearance of others or conflicts between them held any significance.
Connection. He did not know why he felt them, all he knew was that he did feel them; and had felt them for the duration of his yet short life. Under normal circumstances, these connections would appear singularly, devoid of any other interconnections, similarly as it had with the young boy whom he had saved. But seeing the boy again in the tavern perpetuated the presence of more connections. Then, seeing the three young people enter the keep with the group of warriors, and then the wizard enter the same tavern as the boy, he knew he had found the objects of those connections. But he felt there were more yet to be revealed, though he did not know who or for what purpose.
But purpose was something he did not devote his primary energies to, it was instead his actions and the rightness of their feeling. After all, it was the actions of things that dictated pathways and purpose, not merely thoughts. Anyone could think of a thing, but it was only those able to do what was necessary, to embark upon the actions to see those thoughts manifest, who would discover their purpose. And as such, his short life had been devoted to accomplishing what was necessary
in the moment. For that is only where his purpose was found, in the moment. And in this moment, he felt his purpose was to wait.
During the morning, he witnessed all sorts of people pass by him, none taking notice of a young boy, dirty and sitting on the edge of the street against the side of a building in silence. But he did take notice of them, seeking for any indication of further connections. But he felt none for the better part of the rising sun as it reached its pinnacle above him in a brilliant spectacle of pain should one look directly at it. Then, as its descent progressed down the slope of a divine hillside, unable to be halted, he felt the connection once again. He looked up just in time to see that same young boy be vaulted inside the high window, his companion following as a silhouette against the waning sun. "There," he thought to himself, "there were two who understood how to do what was necessary." In an almost impossible display of physical coordination, the two worked as a team to enter quickly and silently before they were seen.
But still he felt his purpose was to wait, seated within sight of the great inner sanctum of the keep. And again he observed many townsfolk pass by his small and dingy sight, none taking notice of him. Yet again he felt the familiar nudge of connection directing him to look toward the keep. This time, he saw the wizard entering through a much more conventional means than the boy and his companion. He strode toward the entrance with urgency and did not wait for the guards to allow his entrance. It appeared as though through the force of his will, they were made to part allowing him to pass. There was something happening inside the throne room, something planned, something necessary. Yet still he felt to wait, but for what, he did not know, for the moment had not come.
While the commotion grew below, I had become immersed within the all focusing awareness of the Assassin's Trance, as Kinarin had called it. It was a state of being where all intent, all substance, and all concentration was placed upon the mark. In this life, for me, in this moment, there was only myself and Lord Myosk. Void of emotions, even void of consciousness, my mind had become locked upon the heartbeat of my target. As my own slowed in response to my calmed existence, I could almost see my target's heart as it pumped beneath skin and cloth. While all else blurred around me, Lord Myosk's image was sharpened and enhanced, a crystalline visage of perfect clarity. Such was the effect of the Assassin's Trance that I was able to count the individual eyelashes on the Lord's face if that was my intent. But I had not come for numbers, I had come for blood, for reputation, and for hope; the hope that I would become something of worth able to affect the world around me instead of only witnessing life as it happened to me without regard to its effect upon me. I had come to gain something greater within. I had come for this moment. I had come for blood.
Convergence (The Dragon Within Saga Book 1) Page 78
