Empire Awakening (Maledorian Chronicles Book 2)

by John Forrester

  “And be killed by you?” hissed Lord Rigar. “You’re a pawn of the nobility, of the king and all the high princes. You do what they command. If I surrendered to you, I would be dead. Perhaps not from lynching or burning at the stake as a heretic, but quietly, in the dead of night. You’d call it an accident. You’d tell my daughter and my wife that I killed myself. What a pity, you’d say. I’ve seen what you’ve done to your enemies in that secret dungeon of yours.”

  Elendria glanced at Madam Lassengre, who nodded at his words.

  A righteous rage seemed to fill her father’s eyes. “My daughter has experienced it herself!” he shouted. “You allowed her to be tortured in that horrific dungeon. I have proof that you, wizard, were one of those who sanctioned and used that dungeon for your nefarious purposes. And you expect me to surrender and be thrown into one of those dungeons? You expect me to disappear and die in such a hellhole? Do you think I’m insane?”

  “Yes, as a matter of fact, I do think you’re insane,” said the wizard, menace deep in his voice.

  “Wait, you knew about the dungeon?” Elendria scowled at Arcturius, clenching her fists. Who was this old man, anyway? “Were you a part of having me locked away and tortured in that dungeon?”

  It was Elendria’s turn to face the wizard’s wrathful eyes. “You murdered a high prince of Jalinfaer—an invited guest to our kingdom—on the day we announced a peace treaty. What did you expect us to do?”

  “He insulted me,” Elendria said, the anger continuing to rise. “Prince Silvren threatened to throw me into one of his whorehouses. Naturally, I was furious with him—”

  “But you lost control of yourself, and the anger got the best of you,” the wizard interrupted. “I know what you did, and I know how it happened. Your anger ran wild, and in your insanity, you roasted the prince like a pig on a spit. Just like you are losing control of your anger now.”

  The wizard’s voice had remained calm and cold the entire time, menacingly so. Elendria considered him, narrowing her eyes at the old man. Did he find her a threat now?

  “And did I deserve to be thrown into that vile dungeon because of what I did? Someone commanded that fat pig of a jailor to hang me, to kill me, and make it look like a suicide. How in the name of the gods could that ever be considered justice? Did a judge pass sentence on me in a public court? Or did you, wizard, and those northern lords of yours pass their secret judgment? Is that your way of dealing with problems? Perhaps my father should be concerned about surrendering to you.”

  Arcturius’ composure broke. “You’re lucky we didn’t send your severed head to the nobles of Jalinfaer as a token of our continued desire for peace. What you did was murder, period. It happened in front of Princess Basilia and the entire nobility of Mar Thagroth. She is still clinically insane for what you did to her brother.”

  Elendria scoffed. “Seriously? You are proving my point. I would have been happy to be judged by an actual court. But I never got the chance. Have you ever met Prince Silvren? He’s better off dead. Though I never intentionally murdered him, I don’t feel bad, not for a moment, for what happened to him.”

  “Then perhaps you should surrender as well, Lady Elendria.” The wizard gave her an ugly scowl.

  “Don’t speak to my daughter like that.” Lord Rigar aimed his hands at the wizard. “I’ve had about enough of your veiled threats and insults toward her. You are testing my patience and goodwill.”

  For the first time in a while, Elendria agreed with her father. She joined him and raised her hands also, feeling the thrill of the stones rushing through her. Her anger quickly amplified into a rage at the wizard. How dare he suggest that she be decapitated and her head sent to the nobles of Jalinfaer?

  Hadara sighed and shook her head. “This is why we make a rule of never getting involved in wars and politics. Why did we come here to this mess?”

  Drevenia gave an irritated tsk. “Though I usually like to argue with you, I’m beginning to see the merit of your statement.” The witch cast cautious glances between Arcturius and Elendria. “Can we resolve this dispute with words, rather than with violence?”

  “I’m afraid not,” said Arcturius. “We’ve allowed this menace to go on for far too long.”

  “Then you leave me with no choice but to defend myself and my daughter.” Lord Rigar summoned a bubble of blue light large enough to cover Elendria, Remi, the cultists, and himself. Prince Jondran was outside the circle, and she wished he was protected by the shield spell.

  Madam Lassengre, Drevenia, and Hadara stepped back, eying the wizard and Lord Rigar warily.

  “Do you think I am concerned by your pathetic display of magic?” said Arcturius, amused. “I wield forms of magic that have been held a secret for thousands of years. Are you willing to wage war against the Order of Shadows?”

  A smile came to Lord Rigar’s face. “No, I wouldn’t dream of fighting you, wizard. But they have no trouble at all with violence.”

  At that moment, the tent was lifted and ripped outward and shredded in all directions, exposing the brilliance of the stars and the misty night.

  Things moved all around, stalking them through the dark, their eyes glowing and hungry.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  In a faraway dream filled with mist and darkness, Prince Jondran heard the sounds of war. Not of steel striking steel, but of shouts and the shots of spells being cast. It sounded like a wizard’s duel.

  Thunder rumbled and shook the earth, waking the prince. He looked around and saw black shapes moving in the night. It hadn’t been a dream. But where was he? What had happened since… the boy!

  It all came flooding back to him. He had been helping Lord Rigar save the boy. But where was he?

  He rolled to the side and saw a blue, glowing bubble of light surrounding several figures. Elendria was there, looking frightened, with Remi and her father, along with the other cultists.

  The ground suddenly catapulted toward the sky. The prince’s stomach was yanked down, causing him to feel queasy. He stretched out his hands to the ground, steadying himself. What in the name of the gods had happened? Branwenth was crouched next to him, his eyes concerned.

  “And how will your constructs save you if they can’t get to us?” Arcturius laughed a deep, belly laugh. Where there had been one continuous line forming, the ground was now a cliff. The drop looked like it was hundreds of feet down.

  Prince Jondran pushed himself to his feet and scanned around, realizing an entire circle of earth and rock had been vaulted up into the air. Had the wizard done this? Jondran couldn’t imagine how much power it would take to move the earth this high. Branwenth joined him, hand on the hilt of his sword.

  “What in the name of the gods is going on?” hissed Branwenth.

  Arcturius spread out his hands and created a curtain of shadows that rose from the edges of the plateau, forming a second bubble. Only the stars could be seen shining above.

  “Let’s get comfortable, shall we? We don’t want you falling off the cliff and injuring yourselves. It would be a shame to have you break your necks.” The wizard grinned, a malicious look beaming in his eyes. Why was Arcturius acting so strangely?

  “You looked surprised by the arrival of my constructs,” said Lord Rigar.

  “Hardly, I anticipated you would seek to control them once you removed the demon from the boy.”

  “Unfortunately for you, it is impossible to anticipate everything,” said Rigar, raising his eyes to the sky.

  The stars blurred and twinkled as if clouds were rolling in. Jondran sniffed the air. Was a storm coming? But it didn’t smell like rain. Still, the atmosphere thickened as a black mist—or perhaps a fog—began to strangle the sky. It became so dark Jondran could only see the blue light of the shield illuminating the perplexed faces of Arcturius and the witches.

  “What is this?” said the wizard. “Speak, you fool.”

  Lord Rigar chuckled. “This fool will bring your demise, unless you have a spell that can
slay thousands of flying constructs. Allow me to introduce you to my newest invention: dragonflies and wasps combined with humans and trees. They won’t burn from your fire spells as their carapaces are too tough. True, you might kill a few, but the rest will overwhelm you.”

  Lady Elendria put an arm on her father’s shoulder. Was she no longer angry with him? Jondran wondered what had happened since he had been knocked out.

  “Father, we should let him go. There is no need for violence today. And please do not harm Madam Lassengre, Hadara, or Drevenia. They are my friends and have taught me much.”

  In response to her words, Lord Rigar’s face softened. “Even though I might want to resist you, Elendria, I never could. I will allow the wizard and the witches to go without injury.”

  Arcturius waved his hand, and the wall of shadows grew and soon towered over them, obliterating the sky. The wizard seemed pleased by what he had done.

  “And how will your constructs find a way into the World of Shadows? Ask yourself this, Lord Rigar, where exactly are we at this precise moment? You may think we are on a plateau in Maren Downs with your army of fabrications surrounding us. But would this belief of yours be founded on reality?”

  Lord Rigar glanced around, his face troubled. Prince Jondran felt a wave of icy horror sinking into his bones as the world changed somehow. His ears popped, and he rolled his jaw around to adjust. The sky shrank and condensed at the same time. The air was now thick and difficult to breathe and smelled of smoke.

  Jondran and Branwenth coughed and covered their mouths, studying the others. His friend’s eyes were tensed and alarmed, ready for a fight. For Rigar and Elendria and the other cultists inside the blue shield, panic had begun to grip their faces.

  “Finding it difficult to breathe, Lord Rigar?” said the wizard. “Perhaps, you could summon one of your constructs to help you—or maybe an entire army would provide you the assistance you require.”

  Arcturius, in his attack against Lord Rigar, was also killing Elendria. Jondran watched in horror as her eyes darted around in terror. The wizard didn’t seem to care in the least bit. She was gasping for air like a fish flopping on the shore, her expression desperate. Somehow, the wizard had managed to send shadows or some spell into the blue shield to remove the air. Or perhaps, he was starving and blocking the air outside the blue bubble. Whatever the wizard was doing was causing her to suffocate to death.

  “Stop it, please!” shouted Jondran, and he held the wizard’s arm. “Arcturius, you’re killing her.”

  “Not now, young prince.” Arcturius shot Jondran a look of warning. “Don’t interrupt me while I work my weavings. The lady has chosen her path, and now, she must suffer the consequences. She has joined her father in opposing me.”

  “You don’t have to kill the girl,” said Madam Lassengre and stepped closer to the wizard. “Render her unconscious and deal with her later. Think of the rule of law.”

  “No, she must die,” Arcturius said, his voice flat and cold. “I can see it clearly as if reading lines on a palm. Her future is foretold. If she lives, the world will suffer greatly. She has joined the enemy against us. Quite predictable considering the traitor is her father.”

  Prince Jondran watched Elendria’s pleading eyes as she sank to her knees. He couldn’t let her die, not here, not like this. Could he break the wizard’s spell and interrupt his concentration? Would it work? But no, Arcturius would just incapacitate him or worse. From the look of pure malice in the wizard’s eyes, he aimed to kill Elendria.

  Jondran clenched his jaw, knowing he couldn’t allow that to happen. Determined, he gripped his sword, knowing it possessed a strong power against magic. He narrowed his eyes at Arcturius.

  “Don’t do it,” whispered Branwenth, placing a hand on his sword arm to stop him.

  Jondran shook off his friend and swung. The flat of the blade connected against the back of wizard’s head with a dull thud. Light exploded in Prince Jondran’s eyes. The wizard cried out. A burst of energy surged through the prince, sending spasms jolting through his body.

  The light faded and he collapsed to the ground.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  Elendria gasped and wheezed. Her lungs burned from the lack of oxygen, but at least, she was alive. Thanks to Prince Jondran’s intervention, she had survived. When she thought she would slip into unconsciousness, he had slammed his sword against the back of Arcturius’ head, and the air had returned. But at that moment, a brilliant burst of lightning had sent the prince tumbling across the ground.

  She rushed to his side and felt for a pulse. His friend, Branwenth, was already there kneeling. It was the second time today the prince had been knocked out. She gave Jondran her silent thanks for saving her life. Terrified at failing to feel a pulse, she repositioned her fingers along his neck.

  “I need help!” she shouted. “He’s not breathing, and I don’t think his heart is beating.”

  Drevenia cast a spell, summoning several orbs of light. Branwenth moved aside as she knelt and placed her hands on the prince’s chest. Golden light poured into his body as the witch closed her eyes and mumbled a chant.

  For a long, agonizing moment Elendria waited while the witch worked her healing spells. But still, the prince didn’t move. His body lay as still as a corpse.

  Minutes passed and still nothing. Did Drevenia look worried? Jondran’s face had turned pale, like death. The man had saved her life and had died as a result. She wanted to scream. But she waited, hands clenched, her mouth turning dry and sour with dread. Drevenia placed one hand over his heart and the other on his forehead. The light inside his body alternated from green to orange to red.

  The witch yelled, startling Elendria. The shock sent her heart pounding. Drevenia dragged something dark and angry and foul from the prince’s body and tossed it into the air. Elendria watched it fly away like a black cloud of bats.

  Only then did Elendria observe that the shadows had vanished. She glanced around. They were back on top of the plateau surrounded by giant, flying constructs. Had they never left at all?

  The prince gasped and lurched up, his eyes filled with terror. The witch eased him back down until his head lay on her lap. Elendria let out a sigh of relief. He was alive, thank the gods. He was alive.

  “You must rest,” Drevenia said and made a shooshing sound like he was a baby. The prince’s eyelids drooped, and he soon fell asleep.

  “Thank you, Drevenia. Thank you so much for saving him.”

  “Your prince was truly dead. The wizard placed a nasty hex around himself—a shadow being, along with a lightning blast that stopped his heart. Jondran was dead for quite a long time before I managed to revive him. You’re lucky I was here. I doubt anyone else could have removed the shadow entity and restarted his heart.”

  Who was Arcturius and what was the Order of Shadows? The wizard was extremely dangerous. The magical order was the most secretive in Mar Thagroth, from what she’d heard. Was he also an illusionist, one capable of generating mass illusions, and an elementalist, one able to cause the earth to rise? She marveled at his power and wanted to discover more about his order.

  At the same time, she was furious at him. It would be so easy to sneak over there and slide a dagger into his heart.

  “We should return the wizard to the camp,” said Madam Lassengre. Her eyes looked concerned as if she were reading Elendria’s thoughts.

  “He almost killed us.” Elendria clenched her fists. “He seemed to enjoy the idea. That angers me the most.”

  “The wizard had his reasons, child. He has a strange reputation, that one does, but he doesn’t deserve to die.” Madam Lassengre’s face was cold and unyielding. “I doubt you could kill him, anyway, even now in his weakened state. He likely has many other hexes and spells protecting his physical body. And since he knows many schools of magic, as he’s demonstrated, he is probably also a sorcerer. So, even if you could kill this body, he will only find another. And be warned, his vengeance will be vast.” />
  “I don’t want to kill him,” Elendria decided. “He was only doing what he thought was right. It’s only that I happen to disagree with him, strongly disagree with his point of view.”

  “Remind me never to be in such a violent disagreement with you, Lady Elendria.” Madam Lassengre gave her a significant look. “What will you do now?”

  Elendria shrugged, not having any idea what her next course of action would be. Perhaps the wizard was right, she had already chosen her path, and that path was at odds with Arcturius and the leaders of Mar Thagroth, not to mention, those of Jalinfaer. She was sure they wanted her dead, especially if they knew what she had done to Prince Silvren.

  “In case you were wondering,” said her father, “I plan on remaining in Maren Downs. Let’s hope the wizard and the nobility of Mar Thagroth and Jalinfaer will stay away from us. I plan on occupying and protecting the lands of Maren Downs. I have a particular fondness for this area, considering I was born here and have lived here for much of my life. Does that sound unacceptable to you, Madam Lassengre?”

  “Heavens, Lord Rigar, I don’t know why you are asking me.” The sorceress looked taken aback by his words.

  “Well, it’s only that I thought you have a way of dealing with the nobility.” Lord Rigar seemed struck by an idea. “Perhaps, you can mediate a truce on my behalf? I wish no enmity with my neighbors. But I am quite prepared to defend the lands of Maren Downs if it comes to that. Though, I wish no violence, you understand.”

  He gave her a generous bow and appeared genuinely contrite, at least to Elendria’s eyes.

  “I imagine they will not receive this news well. In fact, they’ll be furious, and you know the saying: they always blame the messenger. But I don’t mind a little wrath and contempt; I’m quite used to it. If this means I can return to my house in Criswall and live out my days in peace, then I am fully supportive.”