Ruin Mist Chronicles Bundle

by Robert Stanek

  “Of course; you needn’t ask for permission.”

  Lord Serant sat down in a chair opposite the captain. They silently enjoyed the night, neither wishing to disturb the other’s thoughts. The hours passed and soon they were welcoming the dawn of early morning.

  Captain Brodst stood and stretched. Lord Serant followed and stretched his stiff muscles. Brodst looked mischievously to Serant and raised his eyebrows. They both knew what the other was thinking, had been thinking about all during the night. “Come, let’s go see if we can stir that wretch’s tongue!” said Lord Serant.

  They hurried back down the winding stairs toward the cells and had the guard unlock and open the door for them. “Wake up!” they yelled in unison. The assassin did not move. “Wake up!” The assassin did not move. Captain Brodst picked up a bucket of water and threw it into the prisoner’s face.

  Lord Konstantin hung there limply like one dead. Serant removed the gag from the man’s mouth. The prisoner did not respond. He still hung there limply in the chains. Lord Serant then removed the blindfold; still, there was no response. He then slapped Lord Konstantin’s face, again and again.

  The two watched the prisoner. He offered no signs that he was alive. He seemed not to be breathing. Lord Serant jabbed him with the hilt of his sword several times. The man did not move.

  Lord Serant walked towards the door and beckoned for the captain to join him. He whispered quietly to Captain Brodst, while he kept a watch on their prisoner with his peripheral vision, “This could be a trick of some sort. Be careful. Don’t get too close to him. I’ll send a guard to get Father Francis.”

  Serant called to one of the guards and sent him after the father. Cautiously Lord Serant approached Konstantin. He looked at the chains; they were secure. He pressed his ear against the man’s chest; he could hear no heart beat. The man was indeed dead.

  “Guard, get in here!”

  “Yes, my lord,” said the guard entering the room.

  “Have you been watching this man?”

  “Yes, as you ordered.”

  “He is dead!”

  “That cannot be. He was alive—believe me. He was cursing and yelling.”

  “Release him now!”

  The guard began to release the prisoner’s bonds, hands first. Lord Serant and the captain unsheathed their swords, ready for action. The assassin slumped limply to the floor. The guard unlocked the feet shackles and turned around. He looked at their poised weapons and started to babble out an apology, “I am sorry! It was not my fault. Please, don’t kill me!”

  “Kill who?” asked Father Francis entering the cell.

  “No, there will be no killing,” said Lord Serant turning to face the father.

  The assassin lunged from the floor, grabbing Lord Serant’s sword arm and thrusting it up and backward. Lord Serant had been taken completely by surprise. His arm offered no resistance as the blade cut deep. He slumped to the floor.

  The assassin wasted not a moment. He continued his upward motion. In one quick move, he jumped high, kicking out with full force, his foot striking Captain Brodst cleanly. The captain followed Lord Serant to the floor.

  The assassin turned mid-air simultaneously timed with the kick and lashed out with his hand. His blow met the other’s neck, crushing his wind pipe. Father Francis stumbled, shocked, and fell to the floor.

  The entire sequence of events happened in an instant. The assassin had fully made use of the element of surprise. He had encountered absolutely no resistance. A smile touched his lips as he awkwardly landed on the floor, twisting his ankle slightly as he did so. It took him a moment to recover his balance; the last lunge had been a desperate gambit but had been successful. He was, indeed, pleased with himself.

  He felt a coldness sweep through him. The air seemed to turn suddenly icy cold. He looked down as a guard, the only other person in the room, pulled a blood-covered sword from within his belly. Lord Konstantin died before the smile left his face.

  Several guards burst into the room, weapons drawn and ready. They were shocked when they only saw a lone survivor, kneeling over Captain Brodst’s body. “Get help! Now!” bellowed the guard with a lump of sadness in his throat. The guards ran from the room to find help. The other, Pyetr, second son of Captain Brodst, crumpled to the floor again clutching his father’s hand. His thoughts began to fill with rage. He had not wanted to become a guard. He hated fighting. Fighting was senseless; killing was senseless. He stood and removed his helmet, breastplate and sword. He let them drop noisily to the floor.

  He looked to the men lying on the floor. He could do nothing to save them. He felt so helpless. All his life he had been nothing except a fighter. He had never learned about saving a person’s life, only taking it.

  He bent down and checked each. He found no signs they were alive and had no idea what to do, so in frustration he turned and fled the room. He ran smack into Chancellor Volnej, who was just turning into the room. “Please save them,” Pyetr said staring straight into the chancellor’s eyes. He then turned around and ran, as fast as he could, down the corridor.

  The chancellor, followed by Princess Calyin, Midori, and Sister Catrin rushed into the room. A single expression of horror on each of their faces. Calyin raced to where Lord Serant lay on the floor. Suddenly, she felt so alone and insecure. Her eyes fell to the sword her lord still clutched, buried deep within his chest. She tried to retain a strong front but could not.

  Calyin pleaded desperately for Midori to save him. Midori looked sympathetically to her and said, “If there is one who could save him now it is I, sister. You must let him go.”

  “But—?” cried Calyin, disbelieving the words she heard.

  “It is in the Mother’s hands; her will providing, he will survive. Could you please wait outside? I will do everything in my power to save him. I promise.”

  Reluctantly, Calyin left the room. Chancellor Volnej also followed Calyin out of the room, closing the door after himself.

  Catrin gently closed Father Francis’ eyes. “He has passed,” she said in a reverent tone to Midori. Though she had only known the father a short while, she had come to respect him. She knew that Midori also had a great fondness of him though she hid it well. The union of the Mother and Father had also joined Midori and Father Francis. The emotions could not be denied. Midori would miss him as one would miss one very dear to them, as one would miss their love, though the only true love Midori could feel now was the all encompassing love for the Mother.

  With a heavy heart, Catrin checked Captain Brodst. She was very thankful to find that he was alive. “He lives. The blow only knocked him out.”

  “Lord Serant also lives though his heartbeat grows faint. We must hurry!”

  Midori examined how the sword had entered Lord Serant’s chest. She had to remove it carefully, or he could die. She unclasped his hands from the hilt and gently removed it, being extremely careful to insure that it followed the same path out that it had taken in.

  Blood began to flow rapidly from the gaping wound. Quickly Catrin removed Lord Serant’s robe and Midori placed the palm of her hands onto his chest. Catrin then touched her index fingers to Lord Serant’s temples, gently stimulating them.

  Together the two began the solemn prayer of healing. Midori reached out to the Mother for her help in saving Lord Serant’s life. The flow of blood began to slow as Midori’s mental chanting grew in intensity. Time moved rapidly between the apexes of her fingers. The wound began to close, a light scab formed, the scab disappeared, and the wound was totally closed. Midori’s chanting ceased and she removed her hands from Lord Serant’s chest. Catrin continued massaging his temples with her fingers until Midori was completely finished. “Rest well,” Catrin spoke as she removed her fingers. Midori added in a whisper, “The Mother has plans for you yet.”

  Midori then went to Captain Brodst and examined his head injury. If the blow had been placed any closer to the pressure point behind his ear, it would have killed him instantly
; however, it had only knocked him unconscious. It would take her only a moment to reduce the swelling from the blow. She found the proper pressure points, then applied her right hand to the wound. When she finished, Catrin opened the door and let the others back into the room.

  Calyin was the first to enter. She ran to her lord’s side and caressed his face, grateful he was alive. “Thank you!” she said to Midori, “Thank you!”

  “Have them taken to their rooms. Let them have plenty of rest and they will be fine. If you’ll excuse me,” said Midori as she hurried from the room. Catrin luckily had followed Midori out, for as she walked into the corridor Midori stumbled and fell. Catrin caught her and walked her back to her quarters.

  Midori refused to rest, but Catrin insisted. Midori still had not fully recovered from the ordeal at the square and had spent her reserve strength for the healing. Catrin could see the fatigue written in Midori’s eyes. She knew the look well because she was fighting hard to hide it also. After she made sure Midori did indeed rest, which took some very fast-talking and much persuasion, she also took a much-needed rest.

  Calyin had the captain and her lord placed in the same room so she could check on them both at the same time. But for now, she would be forced to return to the affairs of state. Chancellor Volnej was very prudent in helping her so she didn’t overwork herself. A great many things needed to be prepared and quickly.

  The homecoming ceremony was a joyous occasion. The festival lasted long into the evening. Though Valam enjoyed every moment of it, he was glad when he could rest. Each of his companions had been given separate rooms, so he was alone to contemplate his thoughts.

  Seth had introduced them to so many of the Brotherhood he could not hope to recall their names. Valam was simply fascinated by the complexity of the workings of Seth’s society. Each order was given a specific duty and a set of rules they were to follow. The entire system was based upon honor and personal integrity.

  Many times, Valam and Seth had discussed the system back in the kingdom and on the journey, but it became real only when he could see it working. Seth had told him the Brotherhood consisted of seven main orders, the Gray, the Red, the White, the Yellow, the Black, the Blue and the Brown. The hardest thing for him to do was to stop comparing the orders to things in the kingdom.

  His thoughts shifted as he began to fade off to sleep. He struggled to stay awake but could not. The day had been tiring, and he was soon fast asleep.

  Evgej had sneaked off with Cagan during the banquet. They had both needed to get away from the merriment. They did not feel like having fun; more than anything, they needed to be alone. Evgej found himself aboard a ship, the last place he had thought he would ever willingly return to. It was Cagan’s old ship, a small, sleek, beauty.

  “I used to come out here late at night, like now, and sail up the river to nowhere in particular, with nothing but a slight breeze and the water for company. It was so tranquil.”

  “Well, what do we wait for?” said Evgej with a sparkle in his eye. The sea had a captivating effect on him. Instead of getting seasick, now he felt good, revived. The river trip here had only rekindled his desire for the water. He had never thought he would miss it, but he had. Cagan said it was because he had the heart of a sailor, and perhaps he did.

  Without a further thought, Cagan untied the boat and raised the sail. The small craft drank in the shallow breeze well. Cagan and Evgej began to glide peacefully across Lake Clarwater and soon the waters of the Gildway were before them.

  Evgej watched Cagan handle the tiller and the sail of the boat. He began to understand how Cagan controlled it. “May I try?”

  “Sure, go right ahead.”

  “How is this?”

  “Good, just keep the rudder steady. It is used to control the course we take. Turn it slowly, not sharply. Turn it left and the boat will veer to the right and vice versa.”

  “I understand. The force of the rudder against the water moves the boat in the opposite direction.”

  “Don’t lose the wind. See how the sail sags? Keep it tight, and the boat will move faster. Watch out for the—”

  Cagan had given the warning too late. The wind caught the sail from the opposite side, sweeping the sail sharply to the right. It hit the unsuspecting Evgej squarely in the shoulder and propelled him into the water.

  It took Evgej a moment to recollect his orientation; by that time, Cagan had already released the sail and fastened a line around himself and had jumped into the water after him. Cagan was just in time. Evgej was going under for the third time when the crafty sailmaster grabbed him and held him above water.

  Cagan was about to push Evgej back into the boat when he heard something. He put a hand over Evgej’s mouth and pointed to the riverbank. The two remained still, holding tightly to the boat. Neither dared to look towards the shore, afraid of what they might see.

  They heard movement from the bank again. A voice yelled, “It is a boat. I don’t see anyone aboard.”

  “Are you sure?” asked another in a deep masculine voice.

  “Yes. It is drifting.”

  “Well, swim out and retrieve it so we can examine it.”

  “The water is freezing. You swim out to it.”

  “I am your senior. Go and get it.”

  Cagan and Evgej could hear the splash of someone entering the water. Evgej groped for his sword, but it was gone. “What a time to lose my sword!” he thought to himself; then he remembered that he had left it in his room when he had bathed for the banquet. He felt stupid. He always wore the sword, no matter where he went.

  The water was indeed very cold. Evgej was beginning to feel its chilling effect sweeping through him. “Hold on to the boat and swim,” whispered Cagan in Evgej’s ear. They heard shouting from the shore. The two guards were arguing back and forth between themselves over whose fault it was that the boat slipped by. As the current carried the boat further downstream, Evgej heard them come to a decision to blame it on the current and not to tell anyone what had happened.

  After they were a long distance away, the two climbed back into the boat, waited for a time, and then began the return trip. They were relieved when they docked safely along the pier. Water still dripped from their clothes as they walked back toward the palace. They found a very angry Brother Liyan awaiting their return. “Are you mad? Did you not hear my call?” The two stared questioningly at each other then turned to look innocently at Liyan. “Did you forget we are at war?”

  “We stayed near the capital,” offered Evgej. Liyan finally noticed their wet clothes and departed without saying anything further. Cagan playfully said to Evgej, “Well, we made it back safely did we not?”

  “A little wet, yes, but safely.”

  Liyan looked back toward them with a disgusted expression on his face. Evgej could not help but laugh, despite his heavy mood. Liyan whispered into Cagan’s thoughts, “You are lucky that the guards were ours and not the enemies.”

  “You knew?” mouthed Cagan back to Liyan.

  “Yes,” responded Liyan flatly.

  Morning found Seth, Valam, Evgej, Cagan, and Liyan seated around an enormous conference table, awaiting the arrival of the council and the Queen-Mother. The council soon arrived, led by Brother Liyan. They were followed by the remainder of the leaders of each of the main orders. Once they were all seated in their proper positions, the Queen-Mother entered. All bowed their heads until she was seated, as was customary in council.

  “Brother Liyan of the order of the Gray and the distinguished members of the high council. Welcome! Brother Seth of the order of the Red. Welcome! Your return has brought a smile to my lips. Thank you. Brother Ylad’ of the order of the White, Brother Nikol of the order of the Yellow, Brother Tsandra of the order of the Brown, Brother Ontyv of the order of the Black, Brother Samyuehl of the order of the Blue, Sailmaster Cagan. We welcome your wisdom to the council. And lastly, our special visitors, Prince Valam of the Great Kingdom. Captain Evgej of Quashan’ in the South
Province, it is a great honor to have you join us!

  “Only the Great-Father and Mother-Earth can answer the many riddles of the prophecy. The prophecy is the greatest gift they ever gave their children. It was a gift for all the children of the Mother and Father. They risked the very balance of the universe to give us the gift. A gift of future hope. They gave us the clues to interpret and understand the warning of the future. We have spent centuries pondering its many pieces. In the past, we have all misread portions of it. The betrayal of the Blood Wars depicts this quite vividly. The dark forces used the prophecy against us. Brother slew brother. The mistakes of the past will be no more. We will make no such mistakes this time!”

  The Queen-Mother spoke with a power and elegance that enticed the listeners. When she spoke, all eyes were fixed on her, catching every gesture and every rise and fall in her voice. The sound of her words still resonated throughout the room, perhaps the reason she chose to speak her words aloud.

  Valam’s attention, however, had been lost to another. Seth had to elbow Valam sharply before he snapped out of it. Valam followed Evgej’s lead and stood and bowed, making his introduction. Only his many years in his father’s court had allowed him to recover his grace in full measure.

  His eyes were still transfixed to the same point they had occupied as he bowed and then seated himself. Though no one else seemed to notice his awkwardness, Tsandra of the Brown had, for she was the object of Valam’s powerful gaze. She could see the emotion in his eyes as he looked upon her and didn’t understand why.

  The reason for Valam’s fixed stare was two-fold. He had expected to see a large, powerfully built male as the leader of the warrior order, not an extremely enchanting, petite female. The other reason was her striking resemblance to the Queen-Mother. When Valam finally regained his wits, he managed to force himself to look away from her; however, occasionally during the remainder of the meeting, he found his gaze wandering back to rest upon her face.

  The meeting was meant to initiate Valam and Evgej to the ways and histories of the Brotherhood and to unite all the leaders with the ways of men so they could work together as a whole. For Valam, it was nothing new. He had already given his full trust to Seth, as had Evgej. The real problem was getting the others to accept the presence of Men. Even though the kingdomers came in response to the Queen-Mother’s call for help, long ago Men and Elves had been enemies. Time had proven the bitter deception that both societies had succumbed to. Each had repented for its blindness, but until now neither side had ever again communicated with the other.