by Sam Ferguson
“The others have already pledged their allegiance to me,” Aparen said as he rubbed his chest.
“Make no mistake that I am the matriarch of the coven. You may have the warlocks behind you, but they still listen to me.”
“So you wish to control me?” Aparen guessed.
Hairen smirked again. “No, I have no use for you long term.”
Aparen moved up and looked at the map again. “So you need Lokton Manor destroyed as well?”
“The manor means nothing to me. That prize is for you. However, I do need the Keeper of Secrets dead. Kill him, and you will have me as an ally until the end of your days.”
“And he will be at the manor?” Aparen asked.
Hairen nodded. “He will. I will send Merriam and Silvi with you. They will offer you whatever assistance you require.”
“And the warlocks are mine after the battle?”
“If you wish.” Hairen sighed and tapped her yellow fingernail on the map. “But you must defeat the Keeper. Lepkin must die.”
“I would still prefer not to use my name,” Aparen said.
“For this battle, it will help your family more if you are known by your birth name. Think of it, would you rather have ‘Aparen’ steal the glory from House Cedreau? Or would you prefer that King Mathias knows you and your family helped his senate?” Hairen folded her arms in front of her. “In fact, it would be best if you return to your manor and collect as many able-bodied men as your house can spare for the fight.”
“My mother will not like being associated with warlocks,” Aparen said.
“Then take this,” Hairen said. She produced a sealed letter from the folds of her robe and slid it across the table. “It is a direct summons from Senator Bracken to House Cedreau for help.”
He took the envelope in hand and slid his finger under the purple wax seal. He pulled the letter out and read through its contents briefly. “This might work,” he said with a nod of his head. “How do I explain to her where I have been?”
“Just tell her the truth. Tell her you went to Drakei Glazei to see Lord Lokton sentenced for your father’s murder.”
“I cannot lie to her,” he said. “She will know.”
Hairen shrugged. “Then tell her you stabbed him when he attacked the senate and escaped. Tell her you are considered a hero for the feat, and that is why Senator Bracken is calling upon you for additional support. Surely the news of the attack has reached your home by now. The story will make sense if you explain that Lepkin and another from House Lokton are fugitives on their way to Lokton Manor to raise troops.”
He nodded. “Alright. Can Silvi come with me?”
Hairen shook her head. “No, you should go alone. Silvi and Merriam will take the warlocks separately. Just collect your retinue and then explain that Senator Bracken has sent additional aid for you to meet with before assaulting Lokton Manor.” Hairen straightened her stiff, creaky back and looked into his eyes. “For now, you must still be known as Eldrik. After this battle, you may do as you wish.”
“Alright,” Eldrik said. “I will do it your way, for now.”
*****
Marlin stopped when he saw Lady Dimwater resting on the bench outside the room where Lepkin lay. She was leaned back against the wall, mouth open slightly as she breathed peacefully. Her head was tilted down a bit over her left shoulder and a few strands of her dark hair had fallen over her face as she slept. The prelate walked over to her and gently placed a hand on her shoulder.
“Have you been here all night?” Marlin asked.
Dimwater stirred and looked up to him. “Is it morning?” she asked.
Marlin nodded. “You really should rest in your room. This can’t be half as comfortable as your bed.”
She smiled and rubbed her shoulders with her hands. “I can’t sleep there,” she said. “I just lie awake in my bed thinking of Lepkin.”
“You know I will come for you as soon as he wakes,” Marlin said. “Go, you should get some rest.”
“Can’t I go in and see him?” she pleaded.
Marlin shook his head. “You know I would let you, if I could,” he said. “We need to have only the purest of energies around him while he recovers. I don’t want to take any chances.”
“What if he never wakes?” she asked sullenly.
Marlin knelt down before her, noting the sorrow swirling through her aura. “He will wake,” he said confidently.
“You sound so sure,” Dimwater replied.
Marlin nodded. “Lepkin is strong. He would not abandon us now. He will return to us.” Marlin could see the doubt flowing through Dimwater’s spirit. He reached over and gently turned her chin to look directly at him. “I may be blind by normal standards,” he began. “But there are many things that I can still see. His spirit is strong, and he gains strength every day. He may not be awake yet, but the gods will not take him from us before his mission is complete. He is the best of all the Keepers that have lived. If you have no faith of your own, then lean on mine when I tell you that he will wake again.”
Dimwater nodded and a sprout of hope blossomed within her heart. “Isn’t there anything I can do to help?” she asked.
Marlin nodded. “I have given Tatev the task of researching a lead on where Allun’rha’s book, The Illumination, might be. I am sure he could use some additional help with the research.”
She nodded and rose to her feet, looking briefly over her shoulder at the door behind her. “You will come for me if there is any change in him, right?” she asked.
“Of course,” Marlin promised.
“Alright, then I will go and help Tatev.”
Marlin watched her leave and then he turned to the door and pushed it open. Four healers stood in the early morning sun, passing their green, healing energy into Erik’s body in the hopes of waking Lepkin from his sleep. The prelate closed the door behind him and stepped up to the foot of the bed. He examined Lepkin’s aura carefully, studying the myriad colors that intertwined and vibrated through his spirit. The healers’ energy flowed in steadily, mixing and pushing into the blue, red, purple, and orange hues. The golden light in the center was growing, but it was still bound and constrained by thick black cords.
“Has he spoken?” Marlin asked.
“No, prelate,” one of the other healers replied. “But he has moaned a couple of times during the night.”
Marlin sighed. “Why won’t you wake, my friend?” he asked Lepkin. The healers ceased adding their energy and slowly pulled away. Their shift was done and Marlin could see the exhaustion in their auras. “Go and rest,” Marlin said.
“Shouldn’t we wait for the others?” one of them asked.
As if on cue, the door opened and in walked five fresh healers. Upon seeing their replacements, the tired healers exited the room and closed the door behind them.
Marlin moved around to stand at Lepkin’s head. He placed a hand on either side of Lepkin’s head and began to focus his own energy.
The others fanned out around Marlin, but they waited for him to say when it was time to begin.
The prelate concentrated, building his restorative energy within his chest and then bringing it up to his hands. He could feel its warmth in his palms as the pressure started to build. “Join with me,” Marlin said. Two more priests came up and placed their hands directly over Lepkin’s chest. Green energy started to flow from the three, starting in their chests and coursing down their arms to their hands and finally mixing with Lepkin’s aura. Once the connection was made, another priest came up and placed his hands on Marlin’s shoulders, augmenting Marlin’s efforts by sending his own energy through Marlin. Two additional priests augmented the other two healers.
No one spoke. The only sound in the room was the warm, vibrant hum of the healers’ energy as it flowed into Lepkin. Their energy spread through Lepkin’s aura. It strengthened the golden light in the center of the sleeping man’s soul and weakened the black cords that bound it. For hours they stood, continuous
ly giving their energy to Lepkin and trying to chase out the impurities in the man’s aura. Lepkin groaned a couple of times, but he showed no sign of actually regaining his consciousness.
After a total of six hours, Marlin sent the last amount of healing energy into Lepkin that he had. The priest behind him removed his hands from his shoulders and the others simultaneously broke connection with Lepkin. Marlin exhaled wearily and slid his hands down to the bed as he leaned over and took in a few breaths.
“He looks the same,” one of the healers noted.
Marlin scanned Lepkin’s aura and his heart grew heavy as he watched the black cords thicken again around the golden light in the man’s soul. “That he does,” Marlin agreed.
“What shall we do?” another priest asked. “If we can’t heal him, then we must choose a new Keeper.”
The prelate shook his head. “No, we continue on as we have been. Lepkin will wake.” He turned and looked to the others. “Go down to the library and see if there is anything that might help us with this.”
“With respect, prelate, we have already searched the library,” a priest replied.
“Twice,” another one added.
“Then look again!” Marlin shouted. He backed away from the bed and used the back of his sleeve to wipe the sweat from his brow. “Get some food and then go down to the library. There has to be something that we missed.” The others relented and walked out of the room. Marlin could see the doubt in their auras, but at least none of them continued to argue with him. As they left, another group of six healers came in, ready to start their shift.
“Any change?” one of them asked Marlin.
Marlin shook his head. “None,” he said. He gestured for the others to take their positions around Lepkin. They did so and immediately began pouring their own energy into Lepkin. Marlin watched for a few minutes and then he walked to the far end of the room and stood in the window, letting the afternoon sun warm his skin. He looked out to the distant trees, scanning the energies of the forest and wondering what more he could do to help his friend.
The rumbling in his stomach pulled him from his meditation and reminded him that his body needed sustenance. He sighed and left the room as quietly as possible so as not to disturb the others. He went down several flights of stairs as he made his way to the dining hall. By the time he arrived, only one of the other five healers that had been with him was still eating.
“The others have already gone to the library,” the priest said as soon as he noticed Marlin enter the hall.
Marlin nodded quietly and sat at a far table, alone. He put his elbows on the table and propped his hands up against his forehead as he closed his eyes. A few moments later he heard soft footsteps approaching and then something clunked down on the table in front of him and the footsteps then walked away. The prelate slowly opened his eyes and reached down to take the spoon and shovel the first bite of stew into his mouth. The food was piping hot, and burned his tongue just a bit, but he chewed and swallowed it anyway. Then he set to stirring the contents of his bowl and blowing gently over the top as he waited for it to cool.
Another set of footsteps entered the hall from the left. They came closer to him, so he turned away from his food and looked up to see Dimwater approaching.
“The other healers told me that there appears to be no change,” she said.
Marlin nodded. “We are doing our best,” he said.
The sorceress sat next to him quietly and looked down at his food. “Stew again,” she noted.
“We are a simple order,” Marlin explained. “We don’t often have larger feasts the way that nobles might.”
A cook came out from a room to the right and placed a bowl of stew in front of Lady Dimwater. She thanked him and waved her hand over the steaming bowl to cool it down enough for her to eat. She took a bite and then conjured a glass of absinthe and took a small sip. “Do you mind?” she asked Marlin.
He shrugged. “If Lepkin doesn’t wake soon, then perhaps you can start conjuring a bit of the stuff for me too,” he said.
Lady Dimwater chuckled to herself quietly and took another bite of stew. “What of your faith?” she asked. She didn’t mean to sound insulting, but she could tell by the way Marlin sighed that the comment didn’t quite sit right with him. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to mock. It’s just that I don’t know how much longer I can remain sane while Lepkin lies in a bed, helpless.”
Marlin nodded knowingly. “My faith is still there, but that doesn’t mean that I don’t have any doubts. Sometimes it is hard to walk forward in the darkness, hoping for a ray of light to come and end the black night.”
Lady Dimwater nodded and took another sip of her absinthe. “Perhaps they will find something in the library,” she said with feigned hope.
Marlin leaned back and dropped his hands into his lap. “How about you conjure me up a small shot of your favorite drink,” he stated dryly.
CHAPTER NINE
“I sent the messages,” Braun said.
Erik pushed back from the table. His plate of half-eaten eggs and bacon sat before him. “Thanks,” he offered.
“You should finish your breakfast,” Braun insisted.
“I am not hungry,” Erik replied. He stood up from the table and went to the open window. “The men have been working tirelessly, but we still have a long way to go to prepare the field.”
“All the more reason you should eat,” Braun said.
Erik turned back to Braun and shook his head. “Where do our preparations stand?”
“We have set the pikes,” Braun replied. “We have assembled a pair of catapults, and amassed a decent arsenal to use with those.”
“Has Demetrius finished the wind-lance?” Erik asked.
“No,” Braun said flatly. “He is working as quickly as possible, but he has to design it from scratch. As it is a weapon only found in legend, there are no plans or schematics to use.”
“Is it really so complicated?” Erik asked. “There are ballista schematics he could use.”
Braun shook his head. “No, a ballista fires a large projectile horizontally at ground troops. A wind-lance is a type of launcher that must be able to maneuver freely to follow a dragon’s flight. It is not simple at all.”
Erik nodded, as if he understood, but he didn’t. He turned back to the window and let it go. Surely Demetrius was doing his best, and questioning him about it would only halt any progress he was making. “Is the trench around the manor finished?”
“No, but we are close. Another two or three hours and we should have the circle completed. We have managed to set the tar-balls.”
Erik smiled, those had been his idea. “And we have selected the archers who will fire the flaming arrows?”
“Yes,” Braun said. “As you suggested, we placed a tar-ball at the base of each hay stack in the field. Our archers will be able to hit them from the roof. They are there now, waiting for any sign of the enemy.”
“Good,” Erik said.
“I would caution one thing, however,” Braun said. “When the time comes to use the tar-balls, we should take note of which way the wind is blowing. I would advise to use the devices only if there is no wind, or if it is blowing away from the manor. If it is blowing toward the manor, the smoke screen will hinder us.”
Erik raised his brows. “Of course,” he said. “I assume you have already instructed the archers to act accordingly?”
“I have, but I still wanted to inform you of my decisions.”
“I appreciate that, but you are more experienced,” Erik said. “I will not question you.”
“Except for when I tell you to eat your breakfast?” Braun quipped.
Erik smiled. “Alright, I’ll finish the food.” He reached over and picked the plate up in his left hand. He tossed the cold bacon into his mouth, folding the strips over to make them fit. He chewed half-heartedly and then tipped the plate to allow the over-easy egg to slip off and into his waiting gullet. He barely c
hewed it more than twice before swallowing and washing it down with the last bit of his apple juice. “Happy?” Erik asked with a bit of yolk dribbling out the left corner of his mouth.
“Not exactly what I had in mind,” Braun said.
Erik shrugged and the two walked out of the dining hall and into the front foyer of the manor. Their steps echoed through the halls. The front door opened, throwing the early morning light into the foyer. Erik looked up to see a tall woman with golden, braided hair laid casually over her right shoulder. A bow was slung over her back and a sleek, curved scimitar hung from her hip. She wore a forest green tunic and brown trouser, with black boots that had long ago lost their sheen under a film of dust and dirt.
A Lokton guard walked in after her. “Presenting Lady Arkyn,” he said officially to Braun.
“Yes,” she said coyly. “We have met before,” she told the guard.
He waited for Braun’s signal, and then the guard bowed his head and backed out through the front door, closing it after him.
“What can House Lokton do for you?” Braun asked.
She looked to Erik for a moment and smiled faintly. “I come seeking refuge for the wounded, and to add my blade to yours,” Lady Arkyn said with a slight bow.
“The wounded?” Erik said confused.
Lady Arkyn straightened up and nodded her head. “We were attacked at Kuldiga Academy. Some of us managed to escape, but we also carry wounded along with us.”
“Braun, why have you not called for me?” Lady Lokton asked from the top of the stairs.
Erik caught Braun blush just before bowing in deference to Lady Lokton. “My apologies, our guest has only just arrived. I was about to call for you.”
“I heard the guard say your name was Lady Arkyn, is that correct?” Lady Lokton asked. She started down the stairs, using the hand rail to guide her.
Even before she was near, Erik could see his mother’s puffy, red eyes behind the black veil of lace. He looked to the floor and stepped aside to let her talk with Lady Arkyn.
