Ruin Mist Chronicles Bundle

by Robert Stanek

  Ebony reared, turning as if in salute, then carried Emel down the long lonely road ahead.

  “Is it or isn’t it?” asked King Andrew. He and Chancellor Yi were the only ones in the council chambers. The others had been dismissed.

  “Sire, a moment I beg of you.”

  “No more patience this day, Chancellor Yi. Guess if you must—a sensible guess—but a guess all the same! Is it or isn’t it?”

  Not one easily bothered, Chancellor Yi maintained his position, the eyepiece fixed in his hand as he studied the parchment paper. “In my opinion—”

  “Opinions be damned!” shouted King Andrew, “Tell me!”

  “It is. Yes, it is.” Chancellor Yi sat bolt upright and looked directly at the king. He handed Andrew both scrolls, saying, “They are identical. Both penned by the same hand, with the same ink, signed in blood.”

  King Andrew handed the chancellor the lamp. “Burn them, burn them!”

  “But, sire, the history, these have been—”

  Andrew grabbed the scrolls, tossed them into the fire, threw the oil lamp in after to make sure the fire burned hot. “Let fire cleanse this away! We will have not another word of this! Keeper Martin must not know. The elves must not know. Understood?”

  Chancellor Yi withstood the king’s glare. “Surely the past cannot be lost forever. The truth of it will be heard. The Alder would not have—”

  “The Alder doesn’t have to live in the present. We cannot undo what has been done. Elves and men must remain as they have remained. It is my will—it is also the will of the people. I can feel it, I know this.”

  “Their road is a lonely one is it not then? To have come all this way—to have failed.”

  King Andrew sighed. The weight of the world was on his shoulders. “It is what it is. No more, no less… Come now, tell me of the spring plans—that’s a subject of less weight.”

  Chancellor Yi went back to the table. “The trust deeds for the lands from Heman to Klaive along River Opyl. Your quill, sire.”

  King Andrew nodded as he signed the trust deed. Chancellor Yi pressed the royal seal into the paper. “Any troubles with Family Heman?”

  “Odwynne Heman took the offer well and gave her word to bide by the agreements. She’s the family matriarch, I don’t expect any dissent. She seemed pleased with the landholdings offered and of the fact that you may possibly hold her favor at court.”

  “Has the work begun? Adrina is…” King Andrew’s voice trailed off.

  “It will be a grand house—a grand house indeed by spring. Klaive masons are building a protective wall around a large courtyard and construction will start soon. The river trade is good, tree and fir. The coast trade abundant with fish and crab. A place to prosper.”

  “A place to prosper,” said Andrew. “Imtal will truly be an empty place then, won’t it?”

  “It may be wise to call Valam home, sire. South Province has prospered. The people think him wise, generous—and the Battle of Quashan’ has only further endeared him. His presence in Imtal would be a good thing. If he took charge of the councils and day ceremony, it would further prepare him for the crown. King Jarom will surely see this as a sign of strength—and certainty that the crown will go to Valam is a good thing. His daughter will be of age soon and their binding will be as a consummation of his desires.”

  “Indeed,” said King Andrew.

  Edward pored over every option. There was visible strain in the air.

  Vilmos stretched out his arms and shifted frequently in his chair. His backside was sore and numb. They had been sitting for hours. His weariness distracted his attention, but he would not yield.

  In the first hours of the game not a piece had been taken or exchanged; the field was held in a careful ballet.

  Outside the inn the gentle light of morning was forming on the horizon. Neither noticed. Nor did they take note when dawn gave way to the bright sunshine of a new day.

  Edward wiped a dew-like perspiration from his brow without taking his eyes from the board or moving his other hand—the hand that rested on his king. He cursed under his breath, moved the king from the center square.

  Waiting for Vilmos to make his next move, Edward watched the board, estimating which pieces Vilmos could move where and how he could counter. When Vilmos made the move Edward surmised he would, another offensive push toward center, Edward was ready for the counter. Before moving, Edward checked the alternatives.

  A smile formed when Vilmos saw Edward’s move. Suddenly, weariness and fatigue were replaced by elation. He set in with a precise attack—a series of moves he had been saving for the right moment.

  The intensity of the game built as Vilmos claimed his stake of Edward’s pieces. On the run, Edward pulled his pieces back to defensive positions to prevent the capture of his king.

  The wind outside picked up, though neither noticed; their attention was lost to the board, each carefully deducing the next move, the next counter. Vilmos was ready to make a claim for victory, soon he would push Edward into a corner from which he could not escape. He grinned, purposefully stalled as he sipped from a near-empty glass, brought his hand to the board, perhaps toying with the expectant expression on Edward’s face. He would move the white priestess diagonally up the board to put the black king in check once more.

  Vilmos eyed the dark king as he slowly brought the priestess across the board. He was lifting his fingers from the board and Edward was contemplating his next move when the wind outside surged, and in a sudden sweeping crash, the windows of the inn shattered.

  Tattered shards still clattered to the floor as a voice rang out, a savage, eerie voice that slurred the words together into a fervent snarl. “Remain seated or you both die!”

  Edward looked up from the board. “Can you not see we are in the middle of a game? And you’ll pay for the windows, there was no need for any of that!”

  Three hair-covered beasts stood inside the inn, one at the door, the speaker, with a henchman to either side of him. Edward glared at the intruders. Each was heavily armored in the typical banded mail of their kind, with weapons at the ready.

  Edward knew these beasts well. He had seen them many times before, though he had never been a victim of their assault. They were the paid hunters of Under-Earth; the half-animal, half-human race disgusted him. He watched the leader, who was watching him back. Saliva dripping from the beast’s upturned canine fangs as it licked its hair-covered face was a sign. The beast was on a hunt.

  “What is it you seek?” asked Edward as he stood, trying both to gain time to think and to place the oddly familiar voice.

  “We wish no harm. We seek out the boy. Give him to us,” hissed the beast through its wolf-like mouth, saliva dripping with each word slapping the floor.

  Edward turned to Vilmos. “Sorry about this, lad. It is as it must be.”

  The beast nodded to his fellows. “Leave the other. Take the boy.”

  Edward cleared his throat. “What good is this boy anyway? Not much of a meal. Not much of anything, really. You must be mistaken, maybe the one you seek is upstairs in the far room on the right?”

  The beast sniffed at the air. “Upstairs on the right?”

  “Came in yesterday from the road. Strange looking, an outrealmer for sure. Not like my servant boy here.” Edward grabbed Vilmos by the scruff of the shirt. “Stole those clothes there, didn’t you?”

  Vilmos didn’t answer—couldn’t answer. Words wouldn’t come to his lips.

  “Didn’t you?” shouted Edward.

  Chapter Fifteen:

  The Final Game

  Edward hesitated, carefully edging toward the hunter beasts, placing himself between them and Vilmos. “You are disturbing our game! I have nothing against the Hunter Clan, nor does my boy servant. Now if you will take your business upstairs and away, we will continue.”

  “Just do as ordered!” shouted the beast leader as he pointed his double-edged blade at Edward.

  “You are making a mistak
e,” said Edward. He gripped the chair beside him, eyeing closely the two crossbows of the henchmen. “Surely, you can lower your weapons. A mere boy and a fat troant can’t hurt you. Go upstairs and find your bounty.”

  “Lies,” screamed the beast. “Lies!”

  Edward belted the closest beast with the chair, knocking it to the ground; its crossbow bolt triggered, flew harmlessly into the ceiling. The other beast shot Edward cleanly in the leg.

  “Run, Vilmos, run!” Edward shouted as he toppled the table.

  Vilmos ran to the stairs. He shifted his gait to the right just in time—a bolt whizzed by his head. At the top of the stairs he stopped and peered over the rail. Only then did he consider his actions. How could he just leave Edward? He had to do something to help but what? Why did he run upstairs?

  “Freeze!” shouted the beast leader, “Don’t move!”

  “Run, Vilmos! Don’t look back, go find the shaman!” shouted Edward.

  Vilmos heard the desperation in Edward’s voice. He didn’t want to, but he was scared, so he ran.

  Edward launched at the attackers. He took one step, a bolt pierced his chest. The pain was immediate and excruciating. Edward winced, determined. He had been in worse places before and survived. He had given the shaman his sacred word he would watch over and protect Vilmos.

  “Up!” shouted the beast leader as he displayed his sword at the henchman sprawled on the floor. The beast scrambled to its feet and picked up its weapon. The second beast licked its furry mouth and reloaded its crossbow. “Quit while ahead and life in your veins,” said the leader.

  The pain was great but did not stop Edward. He shook a defiant fist and took another step. His wounded leg, slow to respond to his wishes, caused him to limp.

  He snapped a leg off one of the chairs and bore it before him.

  Two more bolts pierced Edward’s body. He slumped harshly and suddenly to the floor. His eyes wandered to the stairs just as Vilmos disappeared down the hall. Life drained from his limbs.

  Just like these men, Seth directed to Galan—it was almost a curse. They lied! The Kingdom is hardly returning to a state of peace… They fear their neighbor’s every action. They greeted us with the same fear.

  Galan touched her hand to Seth’s shoulder, whispering into his mind alone, We have done our best; they will listen. It is fated…

  Adrina, unable to hear their private thoughts, said, “Today is not yesterday. You’ll see. The waiting will be over soon. Do you want me to send for refreshments?” She was trying—in the only way she knew how—to be helpful.

  Princess Adrina, we do not want any refreshments, shot back Seth, his thoughts angry.

  He didn’t mean that, Adrina. Did you, Seth? Galan directed the thoughts now, Seth, how could you? She didn’t deserve that. She is not the one you are angry with. Are we so far away from our homeland that Queen Mother’s love cannot find and fill our hearts?

  Seth was worried. He had perceived the many turnings in the conversation. The decision could go either way and waiting helped nothing, it only furthered his doubts.

  Pretending she had not heard Seth’s remark, Adrina tried again to spark a conversation. Galan tried to join in at first, but after a time she too became quiet.

  The hours drifted by. Each falling into the next with slow persistence.

  As her unease grew, Adrina had to restrain herself. She wanted to burst through the double doors. The antechamber doors had been open before. She had heard most of the discussion. She didn’t understand the need to delay or why they were deliberating. And she understood Seth’s bitterness. She had been so driven once.

  Determined to break the silence, she did so. “Are you hungry? We can lunch here if so.” Galan admitted she was hungry, as did Seth after Galan prodded him. Adrina found a servant and sent him to the kitchen to bring a light meal.

  The servant had just returned when the great doors opened and Seth and Galan were beckoned to come back to the triangular council table. Even before he sat Seth read the thoughts of the council members. He knew the choice of everyone in the room. He could only sit and listen to the resolution as Chancellor Yi spoke it.

  “Unanimous decision,” said Chancellor Yi. “We understand the hardship of your journey and regret the decision, but we cannot support you in your endeavor. The meeting is concluded.”

  Seth hurled a wave of his will through the minds of the council, forcing tears. His anger was non-selective, so even Adrina, seated in the antechamber, felt it.

  Seth, win through diplomacy, directed Galan to Seth’s mind alone, Use your knowledge; hope is not lost!

  Seth searched their minds, seeking the ones who understood what was at hand. “Keeper Martin, you know the ways of Aven and Riven—you must. Surely you of all people know the truth of what I speak. You know what must be done. How can you sit idle? I have given the scroll to Chancellor Yi surely you have read it?”

  Keeper Martin raised an eyebrow as he turned to the chancellor and back to Seth.

  You haven’t, directed Seth to Keeper Martin. They didn’t tell you, did they?

  Seth turned to Father Jacob—the priest was another who should see truth. “Mother Earth cries out! The Father begs you listen! Can you not see this? Can you not feel the waters crest?”

  Seth turned to Chancellor Yi. The decision was not a unanimous one! You have tangled the truth with lies! You haven’t told anyone of the scroll?

  Chancellor Yi stood, indignation on his face. “Brother Seth, we understand the way you feel—the decision was unanimous and final. We will hold no further discussion, please, no more outbursts!”

  Galan held a restraining hand on Seth’s leg. Seth glared and screamed into her mind, Fear and anger are emotions these men heed most often! Let them see anger and let them know fear!

  Seth wait, faith! returned Galan, Look to Adrina…

  The council grew quiet. Galan squeezed her nails into Seth’s leg as his emotions flared.

  Chancellor Yi turned to King Andrew, “The resolution stands. I move to dismiss the council.” King Andrew nodded. The chancellor said, “The meeting is at an end.”

  No, Seth, no! directed Galan to Seth, but her words of restraint could not stop him. Just as Adrina passed into the chamber from the anteroom, Seth jumped from his chair and began to lash out. The council cowered back from him, truly afraid, while those around King Andrew moved between their king and Seth.

  Adrina stared openly at Seth and he stopped. Her eyes next fell on Father Jacob. She did not say a word, but her gaze forced words to Jacob’s mouth. “Perhaps a review is in order, Your Majesty. There are some things that I have not stated, things that—”

  King Andrew glared at the priest.

  Keeper Martin said, “I believe Father Jacob has a point, perhaps we have been overly cautious. Our own concerns are centered on the affairs of the South. Perhaps our view is narrow. I would second the motion for a review. This decision is best not made hastily.”

  Chancellor Yi scoffed and held his ground.

  King Andrew said, “A second has been put forth. Are there any who would object to a review tomorrow?”

  Tomorrow? screamed Seth.

  Seth! Galan directed the thoughts. Faith!

  Adrina cast an angry glare around the chamber, then escorted Galan and Seth outside. Feelings of disappointment flowed through her mind as she walked alongside the two. “I’m sorry,” she said, “I should have requested an audience with my father to discuss this yesterday. If he saw what I saw in Quashan’, through my eyes, the decision might have been different.”

  No, said Seth, It is the will of the Father. We will try again tomorrow and this time we will not fail. I am truly sorry about my behavior. There is no excuse for it. I hope you will be gracious enough to forgive me.

  “I know what it is to be so driven,” whispered Adrina to herself, forgetting that the two could read minds.

  Tomorrow then, said Seth.

  “Then you have a plan?”

 
I will find one.

  “Can you not show them your world? Perhaps then they will understand,” said Adrina forgetting that Galan had been exhausted after the momentary image gifted to a single mind.

  Show them my world, repeated Seth as he reached into Adrina’s mind.

  Galan’s face showed fear. No, you mustn’t! We will find another way! Promise you won’t?

  Seth tightened the seal on his mind and walked away.

  Emel cursed. He should have been halfway to Mellack but he wasn’t.

  He waited, a bit claustrophobic in the small space behind the door. As the door swung open he stifled a breath. As the door swung closed he swept passed, clasping a hand firmly to the girl’s mouth.

  “Not a word,” he whispered. “Be still and this will be over quickly.”

  She bit him. He removed his hand, started to say something. She spoke first. “Take what you want and be quick. You’ll do nothing that hasn’t been done before.”

  Emel swung Myrial around. “Well then. This will be quick, won’t it?”

  “I thought you had gone?” Myrial’s heart raced. “You should have gone.”

  “Where is she?”

  “Gone to council with the elves some hours ago. Why are you sneaking around?”

  “Indeed why?” said another voice. Emel and Myrial turned as Adrina slipped into the room from the private entry door. “What are you doing here, Emel? You should have been at Ispeth by now.”

  Emel was still holding Myrial’s wrists. He let go as his eyes went from Myrial to Adrina. “Orders have changed, I’m to go to High Road instead.”

  “High Road?” Adrina said it like it was a dirty word. “That can’t be.”

  “I’ve come back for the orb. I think I’ll need it. Have you learned anything about it that will be useful?”

  “Nothing.” Adrina looked to Myrial then back to Emel. “You don’t want it. It’s nothing but a bauble, you said so yourself.”

  Emel went to Adrina’s writing table. “Is it here?”

  Adrina moved between Emel and the desk. “I think it’s best left here. If you must go to High Road your thoughts should be on other things.”