“The witch has been like frost on tender foliage, withering the children’s budding potential.”
Tournak put down a packet of ingredients and fidgeted with the crate’s lid.
“Rendering them unfit for the throne isn’t enough now. She’ll stop at nothing to kill him,” Memlatec said. The words cut like a cold knife through the sun’s last rays in the cool stone chamber.
* * *
A week later, Saxthor and his best friend, Bodrin played soldiers in the glen outside the palace when Saxthor realized Battara had disappeared. The boys called for her and Battara barked off in the distance. Saxthor yelled again, but Battara still didn’t come and they began searching for her. At the edge of the meadow, they paused and studied the gate in the forbidden walled preserve.
“I hear barking coming from deep in the garden,” Saxthor said.
Bodrin’s face scrunched. “Your brother fell in the well there, didn’t he?”
“Yes.”
“We’re not allowed to go inside.”
Saxthor stared at the garden wall. “No, but I’m going to find Battara. Something’s wrong. She always comes when I call her.”
“We better get the guards.”
“You go Bodrin. I can’t wait for them.”
Saxthor raised his wooden sword and rushed through the weeds to the locked gate. He glanced back and saw Bodrin running toward the palace. Saxthor climbed over the gate and entered the garden, his eyes darting around the ill-omened place. Only dead grass waved in a cold breeze. Battara was nowhere in sight.
“Battara, what are you up to?”
When she didn’t respond, Saxthor stepped further into the enclave. A sharp chill ran down his spine. The grass stood still as the wind died. He advanced with caution over the stepping-stones approaching the well.
“Battara! Where are you? You’re in here somewhere. Stop hiding and come out.”
A muffled bark came from the decrepit shed at the far end of the garden. Bricks from the crumbling wall lay around the foundation. Warped, weathered boards curled from the shed’s sides. Saxthor rushed over, but hesitated in front of the door, which hung at an angle from a single hinge.
“Battara! Come here.”
Neither dog nor sound came from the shack. Saxthor’s heart pounded as he stepped to the open door. He peered into the musty gloom.
Something is wrong, he thought. No light is coming in through the gaps between the boards.
He poked his sword into the darkness; nothing happened. Though hesitant, he took a deep breath and leapt inside. In the frigid murkiness, he sensed a presence.
A green light flickered in the mist. The illumination revealed a figure developing in the darkness. Shadows cast by the light exaggerated Earwig’s emerging facial features. She glared at him. Saxthor turned to escape only to have the door slam shut. The witch grabbed his arm. He dropped his sword and froze, too terrified to yell as she shook him. Anger flared up in Saxthor overpowering his fear. He struggled to wrench his upper limb free.
“Let go of me!”
Earwig snarled, “What’s this power of yours?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Aunt Irkin. I have no power.”
“You may not comprehend your internal force, but Memlatec certainly does.”
“Let me go, you’re hurting my arm.”
The witch’s brows furrowed as she stooped and leered into Saxthor’s face with bloodshot eyes made more grotesque by excessive makeup.
“Whatever your power is, I can’t allow such a potential threat to mature.”
Saxthor yanked free. He turned to run when a guard called out. Earwig’s attention turned to the voice and Saxthor backed to the shed door. The witch snatched for him, but merely pinched Saxthor’s elbow with two fingers. The door flew open and Bodrin, with a guard, stood at hand. Bodrin stepped forward.
“Are you all right?”
Saxthor rubbed his arm. He looked back, but only saw dappled light in the empty shed, no green glow, no aunt. Battara barked behind the sentry. Saxthor rushed out, and ran for the creaking gate without responding. Battara was beside Saxthor; Bodrin and the guard followed close behind.
Alone with Bodrin back in the children’s tower, Saxthor held Battara who licked her master’s face from his lap.
“Augusteros was right. Aunt Irkin did make that stone thing push him into the well,” Saxthor said.
Bodrin was wide-eyed. “What happened in the shed?”
“I can’t say, you wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”
“You better tell your mother.”
*
Saxthor found his mother in her private study. He knocked and entered. For a moment’s delay, he was careful to close the door before turning to face the queen who studied state documents.
“What’s troubling you Saxthor?” the queen asked. “It’s not like you to disturb me when I’m working.”
“Augusteros was right, Mother. Aunt Irkin did make the stone monster push him into the well.”
“Now why would you say such a thing, Saxthor? Your aunt wouldn’t hurt your brother. She’s inconsiderate and says hurtful things on occasion, but she doesn’t know any better. She wouldn’t harm any of you.”
“She tried to hurt me today in the garden shed.”
Queen Eleatsubetsvyertsin rose and came around the desk, stooped, and hugged Saxthor. She leaned back but held him in both arms.
“You’re excited over the accident and imagining all of this, son. What were you doing in that morbid place?”
“Battara went there. I called her, but she wouldn’t come. I had to go get her. Aunt Irkin grabbed my arm and wouldn’t let go. She was mean. See, the place is still red where she grabbed me.”
“Nonsense, Saxthor, your brother’s scary experience spurred your imagination. You mustn’t accuse the duchess of such cruelty. You run along and play.”
The queen turned Saxthor around and with a gentle hand, nudged him toward the door. Outside, Bodrin stood waiting.
“What did she say?”
“She didn’t believe me either.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I’ll tell Memlatec, he’ll listen.”
* * *
At the royal palace in Konnotan, Saxthor, Bodrin, and Kak, clad in forest brown and green, tiptoed up the stairs of the children’s tower. Being quite small, Kak strained to reach each stair riser, but his large eyes and broad ears kept vigil on their quest. They hesitated at the corridor leading to Saxthor’s apartment.
“No one is in the hallway,” Saxthor said. “We’ll sneak Kak into my room and play out of sight. Grownups never come to see me.”
Wooden sword in hand, Bodrin crept forward. The wood sprite followed close behind.
“Kak wants to see where you live Saxthor, but if someone spots us, we’re in deep trouble.”
“I know, Memlatec said not to let anyone spot Kak. We’ve only got to cross the hall to my room.”
Saxthor slipped to the doorframe and peeked around the corner hoping no one would detect his protruding ears.
“All clear. Good thing we’re both second sons. No one pays us any attention except Memlatec.”
“Come on, Kak. I’ll protect you.” Bodrin raised his sword. “Stay behind me and be quiet. We’ll show you Saxthor’s room just this once. Tournak will tan our hides if he finds out we brought you here. Those old wizards worry too much.”
“Hush,” Saxthor said.
Kak’s short legs stumbled on the last step. He bumped Bodrin and knocked his weapon from his hand.
Clang!
“Sorry,” Bodrin picked up the sword. “Hope nobody heard that.”
*
Creeping through the corridors of the children’s tower, Earwig jerked to a halt. Lips pinched, she cocked her head and listened for a follow-up sound.
Someone’s in the corridor. I hadn’t expected anyone up at this hour, Earwig thought. I sense fear; I can smell a trace of anxiety. I’ll send my
shadow forward to investigate.
A static charge frizzed Earwig’s thin brown hair. Her body pulsed and jerked when soul and frame separated. Her flabby muscles tensed as her spirit slithered ahead along the gallery probing for movement. The dark shadow rounded a corner and Earwig froze. Her head snapped back. The witch’s face contorted at the vision and her claw-like fingernails scratched the wall.
Those boys have a wood sprite with them, she thought. Only meddlesome Memlatec could facilitate such an alliance. The pint-sized guardian would sense my hatred’s energy before I’m visible to them.
She slammed her balled fist against the cold stone, retrieved her vile shadow, and slinked back down the tower heading for her lair at the Earwighof.
If the wizard bestowed the sprite’s companionship on Saxthor, I’ve focused on the wrong child’s destruction.
*
“Something foul lurks nearby,” Kak said. “Smell the sulfur? The scent is faint.”
Bodrin raised his sword. “What is it?”
“A mean, nasty essence is in the hallway.”
The boys and Kak stood still, but Battara came to the doorframe. She sniffed the air, her hair bristled, and she snarled. With a guttural growl, she searched for the unseen then backed away from the doorway.
*
“Battara senses a threat,” Memlatec said. His body jerked, rigid and upright. “We must act fast. Earwig has discovered Kak with Saxthor. I relied on Kak and Battara to sense the witch’s presence in time to prevent discovery.”
“She’s stalking him,” Tournak said.
The wizards stared at each other. Neither spoke.
* * *
Later, alone in her bedroom in the Earwighof, Earwig smashed bric-a-brac as she paced the floor reviewing her plots. The bloated form of her retarded pet wharf rat, Radrac waddled close behind hers, his nervous glances anxious to anticipate her turns. Dusty cobwebs rippled in the ceiling corners, ripple effects from the tempest below.
“What’ve I missed? I’ve used every subversive force to undermine Queen Eleatsubetsvyertsin’s reign.” Earwig said to Radrac. “Though I can’t dislodge my usurping sister-in-law, I’ve magnified and accentuated the growing pains in the niece and nephews to destroy any budding confidence they might have had. I make sure to demean everything the offspring attempt. I’ve broken down every sense of worth and withered any emerging initiative. I encourage self-indulgence and discouraged self-control while they’re still impressionable children. Yet Saxthor has deflected my efforts to break him.”
Radrac’s head bobbed up and down in apparent agreement. A scar caused a permanent grin, which convinced Earwig the rat understood and agreed with every word.
“How careless of me to become so overconfident and lax in my observations; I didn’t anticipate the second son as a problem.”
In a huff, the witch turned and stormed out of the room, followed close behind by a wheezing Radrac. The heavy chestnut door banged against the wall behind them, but the woodworm tunnels absorbed the shock and muffled the violent impact’s crash.
“Whatever Saxthor’s embryonic energy force, I must snuff the power and him before the potential threat develops. Humiliating Saxthor in public and private only hardened that one. Something more than crippling self-confidence attacks will be necessary.” Earwig and Radrac scurried to the dark tower at the back of the Earwighof where no one ventured but the witch and her rat.
3: Escape from Konnotan
The next morning, back in the secluded workroom, high in the Wizard’s Tower, Memlatec and Tournak conferred again. Tournak delighted in the plush tapestry sparkling in the sunlight. A slight breeze caressed the wall hanging and made the scene’s deer sway in a watchful dance. As Tournak enjoyed the phenomenon, a cloud passed over the sun. The draft died away and the animals settled again into the tapestry’s frozen movement woven by elves long before the age of man.
“Something troubles you this morning,” Tournak said.
“I sense energy ripples warping Earwig’s smug self-assurance,” Memlatec said. “The witch sends out energy probes. She can use them to locate Saxthor. He’s too vulnerable. He can’t remain at court, or even in the country.”
Tournak turned from the tapestry. His neck hair bristled at Memlatec’s alarming tone. “When Augusteros fell in the well. You think she did try to kill him?”
“I’m certain the gargoyle shoved him.”
“Memlatec, back at the incident, you were going to tell me something. What did you want to share?”
“The energy traces Irkin’s witchcraft leaves on the planetary gradients have been in flux for months. The phenomenon started about the same time as the disappearance of a royal courier. Do not repeat what I said. The queen’s forbidden mention of the messenger’s vanishing.”
Tournak was stroking the owl’s breast feathers as he settled down having just returned from the night’s hunt. The owl turned to Memlatec, as did Tournak who went to the old wizard’s desk.
“How does a missing messenger relate to the crown prince falling in the well?”
“The courier carried a dispatch to the new Emperor Engwan IV of the Powterosian Empire. As the queen’s primary minister, the chatra feared the inexperienced sovereign might perceive the political upheaval here with alarm. Chatra Rakmar wrote him a private letter explaining the change in monarchs was purely an internal matter.”
“What has a letter to do with this?”
“The message revealed Earwig schemed, possibly even used primitive witchcraft to lure King Minnabec into marriage. The information exposed the witch as a common provincial, most unsuitable for queen consort, whose unrestrained megalomania and ignorance of court etiquette alienated the nobility. Minnabec’s ineptitude and corruption finally triggered the nobles to force his abdication in favor of his sister as queen.”
“Sounds like a prudent, diplomatic thing to do. Of course, the report would enrage Earwig if she learned of such a document through one of her spies at court.”
“In time, searchers discovered the courier’s bones under a royal way station, his neck snapped and skull cracked. They also found the diplomatic pouch and the letter, with the seal torn, stuffed under the building. I’m convinced Earwig had the man killed to intercept the dispatch. If so, there’ll be no restraint on her vengeance which might explain the recent agitation in her energy trace.”
“A royal courier-- murdered.” Tournak began pacing. “The witch raised the stakes.”
“Who else would dare intercept a state mail pouch? Earwig has blamed the queen for their downfall since before the abdication. The shock and disgrace at abruptly losing the throne made her so bitter she must have gone insane, assuming she wasn’t already. If the duchess read the letter, her warped interpretation of the truth would’ve spiked her hatred. I’d bet knowing the court’s evaluation of her flaws has eliminated all reservations in her determination for vengeance.”
Tournak paced the chamber, his hands clasped and wrenching.
“If she had the courier murdered for the communication, she wouldn’t hesitate to kill again. You do think she tried to kill Augusteros at the well.”
“Yes and her murderous focus is now on Saxthor, whom she perceives to be an actual threat to her. We must rush the prince beyond the witch’s reach.” Memlatec faced Tournak and said, “You must take him and Bodrin too, far from Earwig’s grasp. Saxthor visits Vicksylva often. We’ll start with a weekend getaway for him.”
“The Vicksnak estate south of Konnotan, yes.”
“Those boys are always off exploring the forests and swamps along the Southern Nhy. I’ll send him to visit Bodrin. The social call won’t seem unusual. From the country estate, you can get them out of the kingdom. He’s young, but he must begin the mission set long ago for him, to prove he’s worthy of his power.”
“What will the queen say?”
“I’ll work things out with her.”
“Convincing her to let him go should be a challenge.”
&nbs
p; “I can overcome difficulties.”
Tournak cocked his head with a slight grin. “Wish I could witness that conversation.”
Memlatec frowned; Tournak cleared his throat and nodded.
“A colossal tree, the Sentinel Pine, grows deep in the swamp protected by bogs. The towering tree has massive bark plates, inches thick and large as shields. Powerful forces converge and well up from the earth below. Spared by loggers as inaccessible, time allowed the unique pine to mature into a force of nature after tapping into the planetary energy matrix. The concentrated energy will prevent Earwig from detecting Saxthor’s trace.”
“I’m familiar with the site. The boys already discovered the exceptional spot as well. They’ve made a hidden camp beneath the tree,” Tournak said.
“Make the necessary preparations; we’ll all meet there in a few days,” Memlatec said.
* * *
“It’s time the brat Saxthor met with an accident,” Earwig muttered.
The witch trudged up the worn and spiraling stairs to her dark tower workroom as she ran through countless possibilities for devious attacks.
“Somewhere here among my collection of witchcraft books is the perfect incantation to eliminate the boy, yet appear accidental. I’ll search all night if necessary.”
Near twilight, she kicked sleeping Radrac. “Here’s just the thing, a vision distortion spell.”
Going to a bookshelf, Earwig glanced backward at Radrac and walked into a large spider web. As she clawed the sticky filaments from her face and hair, an idea came to her. She hunted down the terrified spider and stuffed the bewildered arachnid into a vial.
As midnight approached, she dressed as a charwoman and slinked across Konnotan by dim back roads. Unobserved, she snuck through the palace to the nursery tower. At the base, the spider bottle clinked against the buckle of her girdle’s sash. She froze. The dozing guard snorted and rubbed his eyes open as Earwig slipped into the shadows behind a column.
“Who’s there?”
The Dragon Ring (Book 1) Page 3
