Myrkron (Volume Two of The Chronicles of the Myrkron)

by Woods, Timothy

  The elves were problematic. They tended to be arrogant and aloof, but then there were not many left now except the Forrest Guard, and they would be suitably culled after the war. The elven druids would be the real assets. They would be able to coax the land to grow and regenerate after the ravages of war.

  With the hierarchy of Kantwell eliminated, the younger magi would train under Mortow and his wizards. They would come to realize that what he had done was free them from the strictures placed upon them by the antiquated beliefs of magi long dead. The one force he could not figure a place for was the Avari. They were warriors that rarely fought. They, like the elves, chose to live apart from the rest of the world. Mortow had no doubt that he could bring them to bare if he could eliminate Micah. Here, he would have to be especially careful. One did not live as long as Micah had without learning how to survive; and from what Mortow had gathered about the Avari Lord, he had lived a very long time indeed. He found records of Micah’s name going back almost two thousand years.

  The Avari Lord was full of surprises, as one of his younger magi had found out. Underestimating Micah had cost him his life. It was a shame Meran had died. He had been the first and only magi that had come to Mortow after his split with Kantwell.

  “Master,” Maklin called from behind.

  Mortow turned in his saddle and looked at him questioningly. “What is it?” Mortow asked in irritation. He hated having his thoughts interrupted.

  Maklin blanched slightly at the look on Mortow’s face and silently pointed off to the left.

  Mortow could see a horse approaching at a walk. From this distance, all he could see was a robed rider on a horse. None of the scouts had stopped the rider so he assumed it was Mael or Mieka. He had not seen Mieka in a few days. He was unsure as to where she had gone after his ill-fated meeting with Michael; but one thing he was sure of, she had not returned to Kantwell. Michael would have informed Merric of her betrayal and, though pained by that betrayal, Merric would have had no choice but to guard Kantwell against her return. Mieka had been Mortow's eyes and ears within the wizard’s keep for these past six years. Her actions had landed her firmly in his grasp now. Mortow was never quite sure if Mieka was completely on his side until she delivered Michael to Gratton. Now, even if she had doubts about her loyalty, those in Kantwell would not.

  As the rider drew closer, he could tell it was Mieka. The rider was much too tall to be Mael and, besides, Mael had his duties to attend in Gratton. With Mael and the trolls he had left to guard Micah’s nephew, he was assured that no one would be able to slip in and rescue the man. Holding Micah’s nephew was a stop-gap against the Avari Lord, but it would not last forever. Perhaps the Garolith’s would be able to eliminate Micah for him. They were a formidable force against both magic and steel. The Avari Lord had displayed the ability to use magic, though it appeared to be limited; and his swords, no matter how accomplished he was with them, would be useless against them.

  Mortow slowed his horse and motioned Maklin and Megan past him. When the Garoliths were even with him he stopped. They both stopped as well.

  “I have a little job for the two of you. Do you know of the Avari Lord, Micah?”

  They both stared at him with their glowing eyes. “We have never heard of this man,” one replied in its hissing voice.

  That one comment gave Mortow some idea of just how long they had been imprisoned. There was hardly a soul on Thelona that had not heard of the Avari and their legendary lord.

  “He is a very skilled warrior that can command some magic. And when I say skilled, I mean there is no one who is better with a sword. He has been around for almost two thousand years, that I know of. I want the two of you to hunt him down and kill him. If you can,” Mortow threw the last comment in as a jab for all the trouble they had been causing with his army.

  Both Garoliths laughed in that sibilant hissing way they had.

  “One swordsman is hardly worth our time, Nine Key,” the one who had spoken before informed him.

  “This is not a request. It is an order,” Mortow snapped, his voice low and rumbling with menace.

  The two Garoliths looked at the army still moving away from them and Mortow, and then they looked at him. Mortow could tell they were weighing their chances at being able to kill him before his army could return to aid him, and he flashed a wicked grin at the two behemoths.

  “My army and my wizards are not close enough to aid me, but then, I really do not require their aid. Perhaps the lesson down in the cave was not sufficient. Perhaps I need to repeat it on one of you before it will sink into those thick skulls,” Mortow said in an even tone beginning to raise his right hand.

  Both Garoliths reared back on their tails to put more distance between themselves and Mortow. Raised up as they were, they were over three times Mortow’s height on horseback. Bowing to him, they sunk down so that they were eye level with him, but they maintained their distance.

  “As you command, Nine Key. How will we know this, Avari Lord?”

  Mortow lowered his hand and regarded his fingernails. He gave them a description of Micah and told them to seek him in Branna. Mortow waved his hand dismissively at the two giants and turned to a waiting Mieka.

  Mieka had stopped a small distance from Mortow and the pair of Garoliths. It was as much out of respect for Mortow as it was out of fear of the monsters. When she saw Mortow dismiss the pair and turn to her she bowed slightly and approached him. The Garoliths, having been dismissed, shot off at frightening speed to the southwest. Mieka could not comprehend how something so big could move so swiftly. As the Garoliths left, Mortow urged his horse forward to catch up with the army. Mieka guided her horse in alongside him and matched his pace. When they caught up with Maklin and Megan, Mortow slowed his pace once again.

  Mieka took note of the expressions on both Maklin and Megan’s faces. Maklin regarded her with aloof indifference and as always. Megan displayed a jealousy that bordered on anger; nothing new there. She knew Megan thought of her as an obstacle in her path to Mortow’s side and she didn’t particularly care. Turning to them, Mieka nodded to Maklin and flashed a charming smile at Megan. She had the satisfaction of seeing Megan’s jaw tighten ever so slightly.

  Mortow rode in silence for a few minutes then spoke. “Where have you been?”

  “I know how you get when things don’t go as planned so I went to a place where I could think. I had no doubt that if you needed me, you would have found me,” Mieka explained.

  “And what was this contemplation about?”

  “Michael.”

  “Yes, I would imagine it was. I saw how he looked at you when he realized what you had done. You did a fine job of concealing your feelings at that time, but I wondered just how much it affected you as well. What were your conclusions?”

  “I found that it hurt to see that look in his eyes. I had not realized it until that moment, but I now know that he got to me more than I had counted on,” Mieka replied, staring at the reins in her hands, knowing better than to lie to Mortow.

  “And now you feel I will be angry with you because of your feelings for Michael,” Mortow stated matter-of-factly.

  Mieka looked up to see Mortow smiling faintly, and it took her by surprise. She had not seen that particular smile in a very long time.

  “Yes,” She replied looking at Mortow quizzically.

  “Would it surprise you to know that I am actually happy for you?” Mortow asked, glancing at Mieka out of the corner of his eye. Her shocked expression told him that it did, and he chuckled.

  Mieka cocked her head at Mortow. She had expected anger or indifference, but never this kind of reaction. “You are happy for me?”

  “Yes I am. You are long overdue to find someone.” Mortow lowered his voice so only Mieka could hear him, “I know the feelings you have harbored for me.” At this statement, Mortow saw Mieka’s face flush. “The truth of the matter is that I have always seen you as a sister and an apprentice, nothing more. We have both bee
n so caught up in our studies and plans that I feared you would never open your eyes and realize that I never felt that way about you. When all of this war business is over, you should tell Michael how you feel about him.”

  “I will be lucky if he does not try to kill me on sight after what I did. He will never listen to me now. Besides, how could I be with a man who does not believe in what we are doing?” Mieka said dejectedly.

  “He will listen, trust me. And when the war is over and he sees how things are going to be, he will realize that what we do, we do for the good of everyone. He is a smart man. He will come to understand this in time,” Mortow said still smiling slightly.

  “How can you be so sure?”

  “What man could resist a woman such as you, other than myself, of course?” Mortow replied smiling broadly at Mieka.

  Mieka smiled back at him. It was good to see the old Mortow again. He always knew what to say to make her feel better. He had been so serious and absorbed in his plans for so long that she was not certain he would ever smile that way again.

  Mortow’s smile faded and he turned his face fully toward Mieka. “I have a task for you,” Mortow said seriously.

  “What do you require of me?”

  “Rydon and the rest of the Elven High Council are back in the room where you brought Michael. I need you to go there and take Rydon to the elvish encampment outside Kantwell. Do not allow yourself to be taken. Drop him a distance from the camp and leave him. After that, check on Mael and our guest back in Gratton. Remain there until I send for you.”

  “As you wish,” Mieka said flashing a smile at him. She spoke the words of transport and both she and her horse vanished.

  Maklin had been listening in on the exchange and urged his horse into a trot until he came abreast of Mortow. “Master?”

  “What is it?” Mortow asked.

  “Forgive me, but how can you trust Mieka if she has feelings for Michael?”

  Mortow’s chuckle was low and malicious. “I do not trust her. Her feelings for Michael can be used to my benefit. Since they both have these feelings for each other, I will be able to use Mieka as leverage against Michael. Mael has orders to watch her and deal with the situation if need be,” Mortow explained.

  “And you really think he will allow her a second chance?”

  “I saw his face when I walked into that room. He is a man in love, and men so afflicted do stupid and sometimes fatal things.” Mortow lowered his voice, “You would do well to remember that,” Mortow told him with a knowing look then urged his horse ahead of Maklin.

  Maklin allowed his horse to slow until Megan was once again beside him. He thought on what Mortow said as he glanced over at her. The sneer she shot him sent a mental shock through his mind. She no longer appeared as a beautiful woman to him. Her blue eyes, eyes which he had previously found so alluring, were cold and flat. Maklin frowned at her and turned to face forward once again.

  Megan was disturbed by Maklin’s lack of response. Whatever Mortow said to him must have distracted him greatly. Maybe it was Mieka’s sudden appearance that had him preoccupied. Mieka had a way of getting under her skin. The way she was so familiar with Mortow, made Megan so angry she wanted to burn Mieka to ash.

  Megan did not really consider Mieka competition when it came to men. How could she be? Megan was young and beautiful. Mieka was old, though Megan knew men tended to stare at Mieka wherever she went. To think that Michael could be in love with a woman almost twice his age confounded Megan. How she could have tolerated such a simpleton for so long amazed her, but she was glad that assignment was over. It nearly made her wretch, the role she had been forced to play as his wife. She could not count the number of nights she stood over his sleeping form contemplating how easy it would be just to kill him and be done with it. If Mortow had allowed her to do just that, then they would not now have him as an enemy. It galled her still to think that Michael had such power, power for which he did not even have to work.

  She smiled to herself. Megan could not wait to see the look on Michael’s face when they met again. The insipid, confused expression he would get on his face when he realized she was still alive. Megan nearly laughed out loud when she thought of the look of hurt when he saw her standing side by side with Mortow. It would serve him right. She had endured three years of his sickening fawning. She thought back to the look on his face when she had been shot, or when he thought she had been shot. That shocked look was partial payment for having to put up with him for all those years. She would collect the balance soon.

  A little illusion goes a long way. She had needed to adjust the illusion a bit when Michael actually cast the spell that would have disintegrated her illusionary attacker. Then it had just been a matter of placing the illusion of her image on a corpse in the morgue. Fooling the paramedics was easy as well. With her assignment on earth concluded, Megan had returned immediately to Thelona.

  Now that Megan was back in her own world, she did not have to play at being a nice, ditsy nobody; she could be herself again. She pulled some of her hair out in front of her. She hated the brown color she had worn during that time, but she did not want Michael to miss seeing her because of her blonde hair. She concentrated lightly on it and saw it change to the chestnut color that Michael knew so well. With a smile she dropped her hair and turned her thoughts to the coming events.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Michael, Reek and Branik stood in a clearing surrounded by giant oak trees. Reek and Branik scanned the area for signs of danger, but Michael just stared up and around at the trees. He had never seen trees of this size. Granted, he had never seen the great redwoods in person; but he doubted even they would match the sheer size, let alone the majesty, of these oaks. A breeze blew across Michael's face bringing him the smells of the forest.

  “Michael, are we where I think we are?” Asked Reek in a quiet voice.

  “I hope we are at the site of the Oakkrin,” Michael replied.

  All three of them saw the brush rustle and two of the biggest wolves any of them had ever seen walked into the clearing. Both wolves rounded one of the giant trees and sat in front of it as if guarding it from harm.

  Michael heard a faint whisper from behind him and turned to see both Reek and Branik down on one knee with their heads bowed. Not knowing the protocol, Michael also went to one knee. He placed his right hand flat on the ground before him.

  “I beg the spirit of this land to forgive our intrusion, but I need to speak with the Oakkrin,” Michael said still looking at the wolves. He was unsure of why he said what he did. Yet, it had seemed proper; and anything that had guardians the size of those wolves was something he did not want to anger.

  “Rise, Myrkron, there is no call to kneel before us. Rise Avari. You are all welcome here,” the Oakkrin said.

  The voice spoke as a wind through the leaves again brushed across Michael’s face. He rose to his feet at the same time Reek and Branik did. As he was about to speak, both wolves stood up and walked forward. They stopped a few feet from Michael and went to their bellies before him, massive noses on their outstretched paws.

  Michael looked at them quizzically.

  “They bow before the Myrkron,” the Oakkrin explained.

  Michael had always loved animals and smiled down at the two, seeing them look at him with huge luminous eyes. “Please get up. Two magnificent animals such as you should bow to no one,” Michael told them sincerely.

  Michael could see their ears pivot back toward the trees and they rose to a sitting position in front of him and began to pant. It looked to him as if they were smiling back at him.

  “What are their names?” Michael asked looking up at the tress.

  “Roam and Jewl; they are Grove Wolves, and protect us from unwanted intrusion.”

  Michael’s smile faded as he recalled why he had come here. “I need to ask you some questions, if I may.”

  “We will answer what we can but first, the two Avari must depart,” the Oakkrin said
in their rustling voice.

  Branik stepped forward. “We may not leave his side. We are under the blood pact.”

  “Your charge is safe here, Avari, if he be safe anywhere. Roam and Jewl will stand in your stead, but what we have to discuss is for the ears of the Myrkron alone. To the south you will find a path. Take it to the house at its end. The Myrkron will join you when we are concluded.”

  Branik eyed the big wolves and addressed the larger one, the male. “Protect him as you would the Oakkrin,” Branik commanded.

  Roam let out a low rumbling bark, his luminous eyes staring down at Branik.

  Michael laughed at the exchange between the two guardians. “I will be perfectly safe here, Branik. Please do as the Oakkrin request.”

  Without further questions, Branik and Reek turned south and, locating the path, stepped onto it and departed the grove.

  “Before you begin, we must ask you how many of the golden doors you can see,” the Oakkrin inquired.

  “Three,” Michael replied.

  “How many have you opened?”

  “Two.”

  “And have you discovered the name of the third?”

  “To be honest, I haven’t even begun to try. There just hasn’t been time.”

  “We suggest you make time. The unlocking of that third door will answer many of your questions.”

  “Is there anything you can tell me that will help me discover its name?” Michael asked.

  “All we know is that the third door is about the magic itself, Myrkron, but the secret of its name has never been revealed to us.”

  “Please call me Michael. Myrkron is a title; Michael is my name,” Michael requested, his shoulders drooping slightly at hearing they knew nothing helpful about the third door's name.

  “As you wish, Michael.”

  “I assume, since you sent Branik and Reek away, you know that the doors of the Myrkron are to remain secret,” Michael began.

  “Aye, some information has been entrusted to us about them and that information is only to be shared with the Myrkron,” the Oakkrin replied.