by Derek Barton
#8
The man was all eyes and stared intently at Letandra without saying a word.
She shifted nervously upon her stool as she sat in a corner opposite to his bed. A Mender nurse applied a compress of healing ointments to the raw end of the Camiyaan’s arm and then replaced the bandages.
“I will be bringing you a brine broth. It will not be pleasant to eat, but it will take off the edge and dull the pain.” The nurse stated.
LLasher did not remark or pay any attention.
“And under no circumstances make any strenuous movements or even attempt to leave the bed.”
The nurse looked over his shoulder at Letandra. “He really needs to rest, but I can see that this is important. Try to keep your t—“
“—I am fine. You can go,” he interrupted.
Letandra nodded to the nurse as he walked passed her. “Thank you for your service.”
The Camiyaan had bandages covering most of his face, his amputated arm and across his stomach. The wounds had been extreme and deep. One of the Mender Clerics stated earlier to her that the chances were high that they would find him dead by noon the next day.
She met his stare as she studied the unusual slaver herself. He was a Camiyaan – bald, hairless as normal with their kind. Smooth, tanned skin and black eyes. Only a few of his race had ever come to the Court of Artadeus. They were an elusive and private race. In the last few decades their country had developed a strong slave trade. It was repulsive to her, but it was not illegal in most countries.
Many rumors and mysteries surrounded the Camiyaan race. Some said that they even have the ability to camouflage their skin and disappear in natural environments. Letandra did not want to take chances and be sorry later for being skeptical of their gifts. She posted two guard outside his door and extra men at the Infirmary’s entrance.
“I was told that there was nothing that could be done with your arm; it was too mauled by the dog.”
The tan man only nodded his head in response.
“You have me at a disadvantage. What is your name?” She asked.
“I have gone by many names. To us, names are irrelevant and when you are on the seas, title is the only thing that truly matters.” His eyes still focused intently on her face. There was no malice or kindness in them, only a curiosity or maybe a mirth which glowed inside.
She was not in a mood to verbally joust with him. “So, when the Lady Magistrate asks you for your name, on or off your ship, you would respect that title and answer her, correct?” Her voiced was raised.
“Your mother knows me by the name LLasher.”
“What exactly were you—“
“—I do not blame you by the way, Princess.” He interrupted.
“Pardon me?”
“I would have certainly hesitated myself.”
She tilted her head, frowning, but waited for him to explain the remark.
He chuckled. “In the cellar, when I was lying next to your brother near death or perhaps already in death’s grip, you were kneeling over me with the knife in your hand. You hesitated saving me.”
“Wha—“
“—I cannot exactly explain how, but for a brief moment I was above you. I was above the whole room. I could hear your thoughts. ‘Do I save the man who would have sold my brother in another land like cheap furniture?’ I am not sure many others would have made your same decision.”
Letandra was speechless.
“I am not trying to play you. If anything I am genuinely indebted to you for saving my life. My Khellervo nearly finished me off. Going to miss that dog.”
He lifted his left arm up to his face and frowned.
“I, uh… I am not sure how you…” The princess shook her head. “What exactly were you doing in that cellar? What happened?”
LLasher lowered his arm and closed his eyes. Suddenly he shuttered and his breathing grew raspy. “I doubt you would believe me.”
“I could have the Menders stop their treatments. Have the Wyvernguard bury you in the cells of the Vault until you died from infection! Tell me what you know!”
He opened his eyes and stared into hers again. “Lady Letandra, I know your mother hired me for a single purpose and I am notoriously driven and pragmatic. No one has ever escaped me. But…” LLasher lifted his shortened arm once more. “Our situation has changed. If you insist I will return your payment.”
“I was not a part of my mother’s plot!” Letandra hissed and crossed the room to his bedding. “I should have let you die – what did you do to Taihven?”
Taken aback by her ferocity, LLasher did not answer, but his smirk returned upon his face.
“I… I see. You care for him very much. His malady does not affect you like your mother?”
“You are trying to distract me! What did you do to Taihven?” She insisted.
“The prince was not hurt by me – I swear. It was the other. The albino.” LLasher leaned back into his pillow and grimaced in pain. He held up his other arm to ward off her questions for the moment. Sweat popped up across his forehead.
She was anxious and furious, but not heartless; she crossed back to her stool. After a while, the pain eased up and he rose back up onto his elbows. “I know you will not believe what I witnessed, but I will tell you all the same as you do deserve answers.”
“Who is this albino? One of your henchmen like Jaspe?” She snapped.
“No. I do not know this… this man if you can call him that. You see my Khellervo tracked your brother to the cellar. I found him chained to the post. I am aware of his condition as I was in the dungeon cells with him after the fire. Your mother had me attempt his kidnap then, but during my escape with him he became, uh, confused and delusional.”
“He went into one of his episodes, you mean?”
“Indeed. He was babbling to no one and his screams drew the guards. So, I returned him to his cell, but I had learned exactly why your family wanted him gone. An insane heir-apparent is quite the problem as well as a scandal. I planned on getting more coin from your mother to keep that secret to myself. Yet she refused to see me after he disappeared at the funeral. My only option was to capture him.”
He stopped his tale, feeling Letandra’s burning glare. “This was business, Princess. My livelihood.” She averted her eyes and stared at her boots; the waves of anger still coming off her body.
“Anyway, I found him as I said in the cellar, chained. I imagine he did that to himself. He can sense when he is going to get them, these episodes?”
“I am not here to answer your questions. Get on with your accounting.”
“Understand that if had I not seen what happened, would I ever accept this. I tell you this though because I am indebted to you and if such… such magic can exist, then I am terrified to what it means. While I was unchaining him, something came out of Prince Taihven. This albino poured from his mouth in a stream of blood, entrails and bone. Flooded the cellar floor and then pooled together. It formed into a shape that became this man.” LLasher was shaking and his skin had paled.
“The Khellervo had run off at the sight. I should have been smarter and followed after it. The albino laid there unconscious yet somehow alive and breathing. I took a rope and bound his hands and feet. I was not sure what this man was capable of. Eventually he awoke. He laughed at me and joked about the whole thing like you would laugh at a child jumping at their shadows. This was dark, cursed sorcery. I know that. Yet my greed kept me from running. My greed cost me this,” He waved his stub again in front of his face.
“I deserve no less. I should have killed the abomination as it laid on the floor. Now that thing walks amongst us. And your brother was left defenseless with it.”
“But I never saw the albino. I found only you and the dog with my brother.”
“You said the boy was hurt though. Did he kill him?”
“NO! But words were cut into his face and forehead. Otherwise, he was left untouched next to you.”
“Words? I do
not understand.”
“It is no concern of yours. Why did your dog attack you?”
“The man, this albino creature somehow controlled the canine. He watched and laughed and laughed as my dog tore me to shreds.”
The room had darkened, the night had come, but the tale itself seemed to cloud the ward. Shadows and black corners grew larger. The two sat in silence.
“Auste…” LLasher whispered.
“What?” she exclaimed, barely believing she heard that name once again.
“He said his name was Auste.”
The princess stared at him, her jaw open slack.
“I believe the Throne has a very powerful enemy.”
#9
Letandra eased back the locked door, pulling against the snow piled along the abandoned barn. During the last two days, she had been swamped with directives by her mother, her interrogation with LLasher, and various court duties so she had not been able to sneak back till that afternoon.
An early noontime snowstorm had driven the most determined villager or merchant into their homes. It also made it easy to sneak from her room and through the village roads. She arrived at the barn as the last of the day’s light graced the skies.
She illuminated the interior with her hooded lantern. The barn remained silent and nothing moved, but she did barely discern Taihven’s deep breathing in the hay loft. The princess frowned. It bothered her that he remained imprisoned in his episode; she could not remember a time that an episode lasted this long. While having him hidden and away from his mother and her plots had been reassuring, the idea that he was not in control of himself and imprisoned in his mind greatly worried her.
Letandra hung up the lantern on a rusted hook and crept up the loft stairwell. “Taihven, are you just sleeping?” she called out.
He laid in the cot, smothered in the moldy blankets. Only his chest moved, but his eyes were wide and unseeing. They darted to the left and right in a frantic pace.
“Are you awake?” She repeated. The prince’s skin tones were a tad healthier.
She took hold of his shoulders, raised him and rocked him back and forth. “Come on, little brother! Come on, you-”
Taihven’s arms shot out and repelled her from him. Letandra crashed onto her back and sprawled up against a wall. Levitating out of the cot, he raised his arms out to his sides in a crucifix manner and his lips mouthed words. He was chanting; the familiar blue electricity built up around him. His eyes focused on a point to the left and over her head.
Screaming in fear, she flung herself in a roll to the left. A blast of purplish energy ripped through the loft wall, pieces of wood erupted and showered down onto her.
Letandra rose onto her elbows as she laid upon her stomach and stared in terror at her wayward brother. The blue energy had darkened to a purplish aura that surrounded and swirled about him. His arms danced in intricate patterns summoning another dangerous invocation.
She sprang to her feet and started for the steps.
“THERE IS NO MERCY FOR YOU, FILTH!” Taihven screeched.
His hands morphed together and extended as if they were a lance of flesh. He swung them in a fierce ark and caught the stairwell post next to her. She ducked as the lance passed inches over her head.
Falling breathless to her hands, Letandra did not see, but heard Taihven’s lance slice through several wood beams along the ceiling. The roof gave way, weighed down by the recent fresh storm snow. It collapsed and cascaded upon them. The loft floor had taken too much damage and sudden weight – it slanted and gave way in a thunderous crash to the ground floor.
Letandra laid amongst the snow piles and wood several minutes, her legs pinned by a splintered beam. She tried to catch her breath, but sharp pain flared in her ribcage. It was now too dark to see where Taihven had fallen. Was he buried alive? Would this bring him out of the episode?
She struggled and dragged herself free from the beam. A bruised rib and scratches, but the princess had escaped any serious injuries. Taihven’s legs were sticking out from a pile opposite of her.
“Taihven! Taihven, speak to me!” Frantic, she clawed at the pile.
After another fifteen minutes had passed, she freed his body from the snow, ice and broken logs. He was breathing, but remained motionless. The snow had crashed and buried around him, blanketing him from the sharp pieces of the ceiling.
You had the right idea all along, I guess, Taihven, she thought to herself.
She used the horse blankets to drag him down the steps and over to the pole. Then she limped back up to retrieve her lantern. In the corner, her eye caught a glint of metal reflected by the lamp’s light. Under a pair of moldy hay bales, it was a rusted ring attached to a flat cast iron metal square. It appeared to be another trap door.
The young Princess moved over and investigated the square. Most of the square was under the hay, but after she removed them, she found a simple chain pulley setup. She fastened the chain’s hooks to the square’s ring. The square came up with ease and inside Letandra found a better answer for her brother. She raised her lantern over the square hole and it lit up an empty, stone storage pit that was at least fifteen hands deep.
This would have to do, she thought to herself.
#10
A large ring of the reptile soldiers circled the Eulocths’ King Tower. They stood bristling with their stone javelins and circular, wooden shields. Taihven could not understand what they were screeching at him about, but he could feel their mass fury. The lizards leaped up and down and shook fist and spear at him.
On either side of Taihven stood nervous Duradramyn guards while the Madnads huddled behind him and were protected by their own ring of warriors.
The Lizard King had raised his claws up in the air, signaling their obedience and the crowds finally quieted.
“ADOFJ de ALLIESSSH CKARKII!!” He screeched, his shrill tones flavored by acidic anger.
Madnada Yua Tib laid one hand on his shoulder. She wanted Taihven to know what was happening.
“YOUR CRIMES AGAINST CKARKII CANNOT BE FORGOTTEN BUT…” He paused and looked behind him at the other platform with the lined up prisoners. The Madnada whispered her translation. The king sat down and was overshadowed by his grotesque bone throne. He tilted his head to the side, licked at his thin lips and then leaped to his feet.
“For handing him over to us, the Ckarkii shall forgive all, but the Curse,” he stared directly at the young prince. “We shall forgive. And, I will honor our agreement to no more raids upon your people.”
Cheers came from crowds gathered at the top of the Duradramyn Shell and from those viewing from the arrow-slit windows. Madnada repeated what he said after everyone quieted down.
Madnad Kua Dos stepped from behind Taihven and called up to the Eulocths’ King, “King Xerto Vis, my queen and I extend our appreciation for your audience today. We are heartened by your words and we hope that this day shall mark a new—”
“Seize the Curse!” Xerto Vis demanded. The ring of warriors broke as one and yanked Taihven forward.
Xerto Vis drew out a stone dagger thick like a butcher’s cleaver from its sheath hidden on the side of the skeleton throne. He held it up in front of his face and watched as a black-brown, gooey glob fell from the edge of the blade. He bobbed his head with joy, grinned and then pointed it at Taihven.
“For you, only Death can repay your act and,” he snapped his head over his shoulder to look at the prisoners’ stage, “and for harboring this Curse, I decree Death for them!”
The guards behind each of the ranger prisoners ripped their own blades across the necks of the men kneeling in front of them. The bodies dropped like sacks from the stage. The executioners then raised their bloody knives into the air and roared in glee.
“KAXEXYYYSAAAA!” Dua Tib screamed as she collapsed to her knees in agony and horror. Madnad Kua Dos stood in shock, jaw dropped and shoulders slumped.
The warriors around the elderly Duradramyn reacted reflexively and grabb
ed each of the couple and formed a phalanx of shields. Taihven could hear the mother’s sobs. The Eulocths pushed and bullied him in the opposite direction, separating him from the Duradramyn.
Taihven could only gawk at the limp bodies of the rangers lying in puddles of their own blood. He was done — these reptilian creatures had nothing of defining worth, no redeeming characteristics. It was time they were put into their rightful place. His fury erupted and his body reacted in suit without remorse or any hesitation.
A hot blast of air from his Wind Fury sigil tossed the guards to both sides. Taihven spun around to face the Duradramyn couple as he cast a Gate Ring behind the phalanx of the Duradramyn. Taihven thrust his hands in front of him and another blast of air this time rolled the whole party into the Gate. He raced forward and dove into the ring and tumbled down a steep sand dune on the other side. The gate ring winked out behind him. He sprang to his feet after tumbling over a guard at the bottom. The whole group of Duradramyn laid in bewilderment in the sand looking all around them.
“Sorry… but I had to get you out of there.” His lame apology was not reacted to.
He had full control of his Gate Ring and he felt his power raise faster than before in his body. His rage escalated the levels of his power! It was an important lesson he would have to remember. The Eulocths had revealed an undiscovered part to himself. That was a mistake that they would not live to repeat. They wanted the Wandering Wolf or as they called him, the Curse. It was time they got what they wanted and so deserved!
He knelt next to the Madnad and gripped his shoulder, “I will be back for you. These vermin have to pay for their actions. Be stomped out once and for all!”
He stood up and conjured another ring. Within the ring he could see that it was directly above the confused army of lizards and right on level with their Imp King.
