by Philip Blood
Ambassador Shulst of Amak-Ta-Dol stood immediately and answered, “As most of you know, in the past I had my differences with the late Lord Armal, yet I always respected him as an honorable opponent. I refuse to believe that he murdered Lord Rinholt. I cannot speak for my ruler in this choice, but I can tell you that I will be counseling him to have nothing to do with this war, good evening gentlemen.” He turned, picked up his hat and marched out of the room.
Quisantia’s representative also stood and addressed those present, “This is a troubling matter, but without knowing more facts I cannot counsel my ruler to throw our support behind Pruta or Olsk. Until Lord Kejil makes his decision you may consider Quisantia neutral in this war. Good evening,” he finished and walked out the door after ambassador Shulst.
Now Lord Pellev Welter climbed slowly to his feet and looked Jatar in the eye as if trying to read something within the depths. After a moment, he said, “Jatar, I would advise you as your foster brother to reconsider your position. War is not the answer; it will ruin all your painstaking work to bring peace to the kingdoms. This can all be worked out by negotiations between the two countries; men don’t need to die by the thousands for the act of one crazy man.”
The Prutian representative jumped to his feet and shouted, “We don’t want negotiation… we want revenge! Olsk took away our Lord by foul treachery, and we will get amends.”
“This is insanity, no one will come out the victor in this war, your countries are too well matched,” reasoned Lord Welter.
“With the help of Tazlany, Belorn and Lindankar, Pruta would be strong enough to overcome Olsk without too much destruction,” CAracusS reasoned, “Join us; it will reduce the spilled blood in this conflict. You are my sworn brother, help us to right the deadly insult that Olsk has dealt both Pruta and Lindankar,” the necromancer implored Lord Welter, trying hard to sound like Lord Jatar.
Lord Pellev shook his head in puzzlement as he answered, “I cannot Jatar, I represent my people, and I will not send them to their deaths in war without provocation, even when my foster brother asks. Ask me for my life and I will give it to you, but not one life of my people will I risk in this senseless conflict. Tazlany will have no part in this,” he stood and headed for the door.
“Go then, coward, we will aid Pruta and we’ll defeat Olsk without Tazlany’s help!” CAracusS said in anger to Jatar’s foster brother’s back.
Lord Welter paused at CAracusS’ angry statement, but he did not turn to face Jatar’s body as he said, “I will pretend that I didn’t hear that because you are my sworn brother and you are distraught, but do not insult me again, Jatar.” His voice was very controlled and as he finished speaking he continued out of the room.
CAracusS turned to face Jatar’s second foster brother.
“Verdew, I don’t know what is wrong with Pellev; perhaps you can speak to him and find out what I’ve done to make him turn his back on our friendship. We are at a time of difficult choices, a usurper has overrun Autrany and Olsk is preparing to do the same to Pruta. We must protect our allied countries by joining together and showing a common front!”
Lord Verdew Kestle stood, adjusted his lace cuffs, and then straightened his doublet, which were all actions designed to give him a moment to collect his thoughts. Finally, he said, “There is much here to study. Olsk has been on good terms with both Lindankar and Belorn for years, as has Pruta. Until now Olsk and Pruta haven’t had any serious problems. I still find it hard to believe that Olsk was attempting a planned action against their neighbor. Perhaps a personal disagreement turned to violence and had nothing to do with a takeover of their neighbor. Without more knowledge I cannot commit to either side. Then there is the Usurper of Autrany. With Belorn sharing a border with Autrany, we must stay prepared to turn back his army should he decide to continue his bloody expansion. You have sent us troops to this aim, are these now going to be pulled away to the war with Olsk?”
“Of course not, but the Usurper is well entrenched within Autrany, so it will take a long and fierce war to retake that country from his iron grip. Pruta, on the other hand, has not fallen and with our support, we can keep it that way. Combined we can take Olsk and then turn our army on the Usurper,” CAracusS finished powerfully.
“If Olsk is the aggressor then I am sympathetic to Pruta, but I cannot afford to weaken Belorn’s borders by sending troops to help in a war of conquest. We must protect our own country from the aggressive actions of the Usurper,” Lord Kestle apologized. “Now if you will excuse me I am leaving for Belorn, I’ve already been gone too long.” Giving a short bow Lord Verdew Kestle left the chamber.
CAracusS faced the Prutian representatives and said, “Pellev always was a coward, and Verdew will come along after I’ve had a chance to speak with him in private. Don’t worry, even if Lord Verdew doesn’t send troops, with both Lindankar’s and Pruta’s armies under my control and strategy we will defeat Olsk swiftly and decisively.”
Like a tide of putrid water the ill feeling of the Darknull washed over Elizabeth and the knights, the horror had found them. Elizabeth called out into the night with a steady voice, “Depart foul creature of darkness for I am a wielder of the Spirit Light! You will receive nothing but pain if you attempt to attack these humans. Be gone for you are an abomination that does not belong in this fair world!”
From just outside the light cast from the licking flames, where nothing of the creature could yet be seen, Baron Qyrmswav’s reply came cloaked in the form of squishing and popping maggots. “I come for you sorceress; I will dine on your wounded spirit and taste your soul as it writhes in sweet agony.”
“You will taste nothing this night, but the pure power that will burn you. I am not so wounded that I cannot defend us from your foul touch, but I’m wasting my breath, you are merely puppets of your necromancer masters, so you’ll dance to the pull of your puppet strings,” Elizabeth spoke out bravely.
“It is we who use the necromancers to bridge the planes. Once here we can dine on human souls, the sweetest of all delicacies. Strong spirits, such as yours, are the sweetest tasting of all human souls, and tonight I will taste yours.
“However sorceress, if you come to me willingly I will let the others go, including the small one on your back. They will be the hunt of another day,” bargained the Baron.
The sick sounds of the Darknull’s voice turned Hetark’s stomach, but when he heard the bargain it offered Elizabeth anger helped him master his sickness. “Depart abomination; you cannot have our Lady to befoul with your disgusting touch. Leave or I swear that I will destroy that putrid thing you call a body.”
“You, my silly little knight, will be my appetizer,” the vile voice answered and with the swift sound of rushing air the Darknull attacked Hetark.
Hetark brought his two torches up and waved them in an interconnecting pattern. At the same time, he stepped back until his heels felt the burning heat of the campfire. The Baron stopped just outside the pattern of Hetark’s waving torches, assessing the barrier, and then the beast darted to the side and attacked. The knight felt the acid touch of the Darknull on his lower right calf and brought a torch down to block. The insubstantial Darknull jerked back away from the painful fire.
Elizabeth was worried; she could see that Hetark’s intricate pattern of defense was starting to lose its steady pattern as fear caused the knight to lose concentration. The intense agony from the brief acid touch of the Darknull and the mind assaulting presence of the beast had Hetark on the edge of control. Elizabeth could see the patterns of his aura changing as panic overcame reason.
Hetark’s mind reeled with the thoughts of flight, yet he pushed down those instinctual reactions and tried to maintain control.
Then the cool tone of Elizabeth’s voice penetrated through his distress, “Stand fast Hetark, it cannot harm you when the fire is between you and the beast.”
Inspired by the catalyst of Elizabeth’s quiet composed voice, Hetark began to calm himself from within by usin
g an old soldier’s technique taught to him by his first sergeant. He recalled the litany he had been taught as a recruit, “My body is my army. My flesh, bone, and muscle are my soldiers, but without the mind my army has no commander and the battle is already lost. Panic is death; it leaves your army in a leaderless rout. I control my fears and guide my troops, for I am Hetark, and nothing will defeat my army while I command!”
Elizabeth summoned her remaining reserve power to come to the faltering Hetark’s aid, but then she watched a transformation come over the knight’s aura. His face resumed its normal calculating and controlled set and the pattern of the torch defense became as crisp and sharp as a soldier’s sword drill while on parade as his fear receded and Hetark regained control.
With a howl of rage that was ghastly in the minds of the knights, the Darknull withdrew from Hetark’s impeccable defense.
“Away foul monster of the dark, or come feel the burn of fire! I do not fear your foul touch,” Hetark called out in a fearless voice.
“Brave words human thing, but let us see how your fellow mortals handle the pain of soul consumption,” replied the dread Baron with what sounded in their minds like the crunch of skulls and the squirt of brains being chewed up by giant teeth.
Moving around the circle the Darknull sought a breach in the defense of its adversaries. It slowly oozed past the calm towering Gustin, and then came to a complete halt in front of the diminutive Drake. It watched the small knight, but it did not speak or move.
Drake watched the alien creature and his mind kept seeing one foul image flow into another, all of them coming from the knight imagining disgusting horrors. One was a corpse with birds plucking out the round wet eyeballs, another a living screaming man staked to the ground with insects eating their way into his stomach. Each sick image was more disgusting and fear began to creep into the fortress of Drake’s mind.
Gustin looked over at Drake and saw rivers of sweat crawling down his friend's forehead to drip from his shaking brow.
Before Gustin could speak Drake screamed at the Darknull, “Leave us alone, foul creature of evil, I do not fear you, depart or die!”
Gustin spoke to Drake in a reassuring voice, “Relax, it cannot...”
But the Darknull’s foul thought thundered into Drake's mind and overpowered Gustin’s voice, “I feel your fear mortal man and I will taste of your agony as I feast on your spirit before this night is through.”
Like a dam breaking the fear in Drake’s mind burst free of his control and he screamed, “Die, you disgusting filth!” Drake sprang forward before Gustin’s outstretched arm could stop him and Drake thrust both of his torches into the Darknull's evil presence.
The Darknull oozed back and then rushed behind the stumbling knight with incredible speed before Drake could turn to defend against the attack. The profane creature attached itself to his back like some unnatural growth and started to feed.
Drake dropped both torches and strained his arms back over his shoulders trying to reach the horrible pain as the entire rear half of his aura felt the dissolving acid agony of the Darknull feeding on his soul. Drake screamed horribly and collapsed onto his face while writhing in the dirt of the forest floor in agony.
“No!” Gustin bellowed and leaped forward. He straddled the body of his fallen friend and thrust his torches down onto the insubstantial form of the clinging Darknull.
At the feeling of the fire within his body, the Baron slithered away. The hot flames of Gustin’s torches burned through Drake’s clothing and singed the skin of his back, which felt like soothing water compared to the touch of the Darknull.
“Look out,” Hetark called to Gustin, but it was too late, the foul creature attached itself to Gustin’s back and began to feed. The big man staggered and a groan escaped through clenched teeth as he tried to withstand the terrible agony of his spirit being consumed by the attached monster. With three lurching steps Gustin got to the campfire and he threw himself backward into the flames and coals, landing the monster in the flames along with Gustin’s body. Almost instantly Gustin’s clothes caught on fire.
The Darknull slithered out of the fire with a howl of rage.
Hetark spun around and grabbed the kicking feet of the burning Gustin. Adrenaline coursed throughout Hetark’s body and with every muscle and tendon straining he managed to drag the heavy knight out of the fire and dove on top of him to smother the flaming clothing, burning himself in the process.
The Darknull had howled with sick loathsome laughter and leaped toward the unprotected back of Hetark, who was still beating out the flames on Gustin.
From across the licking flames of the fire, the sorceress stood unnoticed, her arms spread wide with palms facing the charging monster. Elizabeth knew she only had one chance, so she waited until the putrid creature expanded to envelop and attach itself to Hetark before she struck.
Blue light streaked from both her palms to impact with a crackle of energy three feet before her body, and from that point, the two beams joined and turned searing white. With a clear, high-pitched note the pure beam of aura energy lanced forward and pierced the Darknull faster than thought. The entire creature was instantly encased with bright light and its scream of agony assaulted their minds.
Baron Qyrmswav fled the terrible light and pain within its body, and the sounds of its agony faded rapidly into the dark of the forest trees as it swiftly fled.
Hetark looked up from the ground in time to see Elizabeth’s arms sink down to her sides, then her knees bent and she collapsed slowly and lifelessly to her side on the ground.
By the third morning after Michael’s ceremony, most of the foreign delegations had departed Lindankar. Three notable exceptions remained: the ambassador of Pruta, Lord Kestle of Belorn and Lord Pellev Welter of Tazlany. The Olsk delegation had been the first to storm out of the capitol, escorting the body of their murdered ruler home. Only two of their party had remained in the city, but no one was officially informed of this fact since they were spies.
One spy obtained a job as a servant in the Tarnelin palace. Getting the job had turned out to be fairly easy since many positions had opened up when Lord Jatar locked up the household servants and charged them with treason. Currently, the spy was assigned to polishing silver in an antechamber of the palace, though in truth he was listening through a side door into the throne room where Jatar was conducting audiences.
Lord Welter of Tazlany had just stormed in with the members of his court that had accompanied him to Lindankar. He walked up to where Lord Jatar was in conversation with the Prutian ambassador and then interrupted in a loud voice, “Jatar, I must speak with you in private, immediately!”
“Pellev, quit being rude, you are interrupting a very important discussion. You can wait your turn like everyone else for an audience,” CAracusS said sternly, and then turned back to the ambassador, pointedly ignoring Jatar’s foster brother, Lord Welter.
“I mean now, Jatar!” Pellev commanded.
“How dare you command me in my palace, you are pushing your foster brother status too far,” replied CAracusS angrily.
“You will come immediately to explain your plans for entering Tazlany with an army, or we will discuss it publicly here,” replied Lord Welter forcefully.
“Fine, I have no secrets from my allies so speak your piece, Pellev,” CAracusS said, looking down his nose imperiously at his fellow ruler.
“I have learned that you plan to move your army across Tazlany on your way to attack Olsk. What have you to say to that?” asked Lord Welter as if he had sprung a trap.
“Yes, we would just be passing through your country, so what’s the problem?” CAracusS asked as if there were no problem at all.
“Just passing through? Have you forgotten what destruction lies along the back trail of an army? Have you forgotten what they will do to Tazlany’s farms, towns, and women? AND, if I let your army gain an advantage by passing through our country it would appear that I have given you my approval in your at
tack against Olsk. That’s the same as joining you in this foolish endeavor and drags Tazlany into war. No, under no circumstances will your army be allowed to pass through to attack Olsk, and that is my final word,” the Tazlany ruler finished and crossed his arms to signal the finality of his statement.
CAracusS slowly rose to his feet as he said, “And what are you going to do if we march our army across Tazlany without your permission, join Olsk against us? There are no neutral parties in this war Pellev, can’t you see that? You are either for us or against us!”
“Is this the man who spoke so often of a lasting peace? Now you thirst for war, but Tazlany will not join you in this insanity, nor will I.”
“Then you are a fool as well as an enemy. Depart Lindankar before I forget your diplomatic guarantees and have your head struck from your shoulders for being a traitor to everything you and I have shared!” CAracusS exclaimed, hatred obvious in his tone as well as his words.
Lord Welter stood stunned for a moment, but then his face darkened and he said, “So be it Jatar, you are my brother no longer.” Lord Welter spat on the marble floor in front of Jatar and then spun on the ball of his left foot and marched out of the hall.
From the back of the hall Lord Verdew Kestle watched with narrowed eyes, but a moment later he slipped from the hall and headed for his chambers. Whatever he was about to say to CAracusS was postponed; instead, he went to write a secret message.
At the same moment, the spy from Olsk quickly left from where he had listened to this exchanged and also went to prepare a message detailing the schism between Tazlany and Lindankar. For Olsk this falling out between Jatar and Pellev was an unexpected, but beneficial development. He sent the message by a winged carrier to his fellow spy who dwelt in another part of the city.
Morning found Elizabeth’s small band still collapsed around the fire. A thin trail of smoke rose from the ashes of the spent fire and curled its way high into the green treetops of the Gellern forest.
