The Red Citadel and the Sorcerer's Power

by Craig Halloran

  “Your criteria are as soiled as mine.”

  “Good. At least now we have something in common.”

  Chen chuckled, but his musings didn’t last long. They rode to the top of the hill. “Powerful forces were at work here,” he said.

  Buckner noted the bloodstains on the terrain. A smoky smell lingered in the air. He led his horse to the edge of the hillside overlook. Fires still smoldered below. “Sergeant, you and a hundred men will ride down there with me. Be wary.”

  They traversed the long path to the bottom of the hill. Men painted in white were lined up across the ground, facedown. Their bodies were butchered. Flesh fell from their bones. Buckner dismounted. Holding a finger to his nose, he fanned the buzzing flies away as he rolled one body, mostly intact, over. Dark circles were painted around the man’s eyes.

  “Wargoths. These savages are fiercer than any man I’ve ever known. They’ve been in and out of the butcher shop more than once, I would say.” He coughed. “These are sword wounds, most of them. What do you say, wizard?”

  Chen spoke with his eyes closed. His nostrils flared as he inhaled deeply. “We are close. Very, very close. Be wary.”

  CHAPTER 34

  Standing on the docks, Finster couldn’t get anyone to speak to him about the ships. They were awfully big for such a small town. Every time he approached someone, they put their head down and hurried away. “Oh great,” he said with his hands on his hips. “Now I’m suddenly the all-powerful, outcast leper. And I don’t even have leprosy.” He started scratching his arms fiercely in front of a wide-eyed woman who was passing. Her jaw dropped with horror. Scratching hard, he said, “Perhaps I do!”

  She ran away.

  “Pah! This is outlandish. The savage is welcome, and I am not. I feel deplorable.” He rubbed his nose. “Not that there is anything wrong with that.”

  Sailors in striped shirts and black hats with wide brims were loading cargo onto the ships. The river was wide, spanning at least a quarter mile from one side to the other. There were three ships docked, each one the same as the other. They were brigantines, medium-sized vessels with two masts, capable of carrying a crew of thirty men. A sailor climbed into the crow’s nest. Large barrels were rolled up the planks, and small barrels were carried on shoulders. Burlap sacks filled with grain and wheat were hustled up the loading ramps. Every man at work was in a lather.

  Finster studied the ships with interest. The Free River ran along and through the edges and boundaries of all Seven Kingdoms. He had sailed it from one end to the other more than once in his lifetime. The Kingdom of Mendes hugged the western coast of the Gallatan Sea. The Free River emptied into the Bay of Kings. There was always something going on along the river. It was full of secrets and dead men’s tales.

  They seem to be in an awful hurry. Interesting.

  The Mendes flag—a canary-yellow cross on a field of deep sky blue—flew from the back of the ships. Below the main deck, a portal door flipped open, and a sailor popped his head out. Finster caught a glimpse of more men inside wearing chainmail armor. It wasn’t uncommon for the supply ships to arm themselves with paid protection, but it seemed extreme for a routine run up and down the river.

  How odd. The ships are moving away from the ocean, against the river. What is the kingdom of Mendes up to now? Oh well. It isn’t my concern.

  A burly mariner marched up the loading ramp. He was carrying two small black barrels on his shoulders. Another sailor followed behind him. They disappeared into the hold.

  Interesting times indeed. Something in the air tickled Finster’s nose, and he sneezed. “Achooo!”

  The brigantine vessel sank two feet into the water and popped right back up. A surge of waves beat against the docks. All of the sailors froze as the boat rocked side to side. Their eyes were as big as plates.

  With his nose in his sleeve, Finster wasn’t fully clear about what had happened himself. He fought back another sneeze, thinking, Did I do that?

  Once the sailors got back to work, Finster moved on. He found a bench at the end of the docks, away from all of the action, and sat down. He didn’t have any idea what Moth had in mind, but he didn’t want to part company with the barbarian, either.

  I need those rings.

  The fight with Ravenlock had given him a scare. He almost died despite his newfound power. The Founder’s Stone was everything he’d dreamed of, but there were limitations. One of them was his mortal body. He looked at the green veins in his hands. They weren’t as prevalent now as they had been. There was strength and vitality in his limbs that he didn’t have before. Nothing extraordinary, but the stone fueled him. It gave him awareness. Confidence.

  Perhaps I need to take some time and reacquaint myself with some former practices.

  When he was a magus, he’d spent countless hours studying the arts and mastering new spells. There were mind-control spells, potions, and scrolls written for deadly intents and purposes. It was all very time-consuming. As a magus, he had a unique practice for which he was gifted. He could animate objects, so long as they weren’t alive. It worked primarily on stones, dead wood, and metals. At least, that was what came in the handiest. He had always been able to bend inch-thick steel bars with his mind, but now, he could do much more than that.

  I moved those boulders in the hills. Perhaps I can move even more.

  A shadow fell over him, and he looked over his shoulder. Moth was blocking the sunlight. “Well, if it isn’t the master of popularity. What’s the matter? Did Raul’s daughters lose interest in your company? Or did you lose interest in theirs? Did you hear the call of the lonely sheep?”

  Moth’s heavy gaze flickered.

  “I suppose that’s getting old. You’ve proven yourself to be more man than animal, for the time being.” Finster crossed his legs and looked the other way. “I have to admit you are more human than you appear. Those lumpy women took a shine to you. But of course they did. They melted like butter, I’m certain, when you swallowed them in your arms.”

  Moth sat beside him. He took up most of the bench.

  Finster, almost child sized by comparison, scooted away. “Do you mind? I was having a moment. Why are you here, anyway? I figured you were done with the likes of me.”

  Moth didn’t say a word.

  “We make for an odd pair, don’t we, Moth?” He laughed. “Perhaps we are on a star-crossed path. But why?”

  CHAPTER 35

  A path ran along the Free River. Ferns, richly colored in green and red, basked in the sun. Finster followed behind Moth. The barbarian moved in a long, easy stride with his arms swinging slightly. His sword and scabbard were bound to his hip, and he had a sack slung over his shoulder. Raul’s daughters had brought it out to him before he and Finster departed.

  Hustling to catch up, Finster said, “I’m not sure what your ambition is, Moth. I do wish you would tell me. Even so, I do know the river leads to all kingdoms. Is that your plan? To conquer the kingdoms?”

  Moth pushed away an overhang of branches that dipped into the river.

  Finster hustled past it. His robes snagged on some briars, and he tore them away. “Honestly, man, I feel like a fool for following you. Or are you following me?” He blocked the path. “Just stop!”

  Moth did.

  Finster held his fingers out and spread them wide. “Inside you are eight rings. I can sense them, and let me be frank—I want them. Moth, if you will part with them, I will depart from you. You can be free to go about your life, hunting in the wild, slaying the various goths, fathering mute children. You understand me?”

  Moth’s eyes were dull. He eased by Finster with the grace of a cat and continued up the path.

  “Moth, you don’t need those rings. I do.” Finster sped up. “Listen to me. There is an order that must be maintained in the world of men. Magi like me see to that. We try to keep the peace. But in order to keep the peace, you must have power. And if that power falls into the wrong hands, you have chaos, death, and endless suff
ering.” He scurried in front of Moth again. He wouldn’t move out of the man’s way until he came to a stop. “Just give me a sign that you understand me.”

  Moth gave the slightest nod.

  “I’ll take that as a yes. I have, too. Listen, Moth. Your kind does not care for the arcane arts. It’s a curse, a demon. You don’t want those rings to possess you. They will torment your spirit. Believe me, I know.”

  Moth’s bald brow furrowed. His hand touched his stomach.

  “Yes, the magic will eat you from the inside out. Look.” He pushed his sleeve up past his elbow. Green veins spidered up and down his skinny arms. “Certainly, you can see this is not normal. It’s a curse. The scarab lodged in my back is uncomfortable, to say the least. I can only imagine there is an unwelcoming fire in your belly.”

  Moth’s throat rumbled.

  “Ah-ha!” Finster hoisted his finger in the air. “He speaks. Now we are getting somewhere. Listen to me, Moth. You want to be free of this burden. Let me liberate you from these chains. Work with me.”

  The barbarian brushed him aside with a forearm that was thicker than Finster’s thigh.

  “Don’t fall in love with your strange powers, Moth,” he called after the brute. “It will take its toll. Trust me. No one knows this better than me.”

  Finster continued on the path, still following in Moth’s wake. In his mind, he could see the rings that once decorated Ingrid’s fingers. They were beautiful things, rich in sorcerous glory. He’d witnessed her destroy men with a single touch. Recalling it sent shivers down his spine.

  “How about this, Moth? Just part with some of the rings. I’ll take some, and you can keep the others.”

  The barbarian kept walking.

  The Ring of Rejuvenation was the one Finster desired most. He had touched it in his battle with Ingrid. He was on his last dying breath when it healed him enough to keep his blood in place. Without it, he would be dead. Now, somehow, Moth had tapped into its power. His wounds, aside from the scars, were healed.

  Following the barbarian for hours on end, he reflected on the Rings of Power. Each of them had been possessed by a high-ranking magus, at least an eighth ranking in the order. The fact that Ingrid had acquired them was quite impressive. She defeated or murdered all of the possessors, one by one. Somehow, she hid her victories from Zuulan, and when the time was right, she struck. With all of the rings in her possession, she was practically invincible.

  Or so she thought. Finster laughed to himself. He had duped her when he said he was her father. She let her guard down just enough that he managed to remove the rings by seizing them with his reanimation power. If I could have just held them a moment longer! Lifelong victory snatched from my grasp by a savage.

  Ahead, Moth moved with an easy grace. His lengthy strides were one with nature. If there were any side effects from the rings, they didn’t show. His head turned. The three brigantine ships that had been docked at Swift Water were now sailing up the river. They glided over the water. All of a sudden, Moth darted into the brush.

  “What is he doing now?” Finster climbed up the bank. He didn’t stop until he was on the dusty road that led to the next city. Horses and riders were coming from Swift Water at a brisk trot. Hundreds of soldiers in full armor carried the banner of Mendes. Finster crept back into the woods between the road and the trail. There wasn’t much land between them. I don’t like the sound of those hooves.

  The horses thundered by, agitating the dust on the road that led into the woods.

  Finster started coughing. He backed down to the trail along the riverbank. There, he got a surprise. A blond knight on horseback approached. A man in wizard’s robes rode at his side with a frown deep as the river. There was an endless line of soldiers behind him. Finster heard a splash. He turned to see Moth swim across the river and vanish below the surface. The wizard pointed at Finster and said in a harsh tone, “That’s him. That’s Finster.”

  CHAPTER 36

  “I beg your pardon,” said Finster, squinting at the oriental wizard in the saddle, “but do I know you?” He shifted his gaze to the blond-headed knight. “Or you, for the matter? I am but a weary traveler looking for a fishing spot.” His eyes drifted over the river water. There was no sign of Moth. “If I am in the way, I’ll gladly let you pass.”

  “I am Buckner, Knight of Mendes.”

  Finster gave him a bow. “A pleasure to meet you. And who is this little adept you’ve brought along?”

  “Don’t pretend you don’t know me, Finster,” Chen said with a sneer. “Your memory isn’t that dull, no matter how big of a drunk you are.”

  “I’m sorry, but I don’t recognize you at all. One would think I’d remember those audacious robes. They are blinding. But you have one of those flat faces that all look the same to me.”

  Chen stiffened. His lips wriggled. “The magi from the Red Citadel are filled to the neck with arrogance. They are nothing more than wine-soaked sots.”

  “Have I offended you in some way, little man?” Finster asked with a gloating expression.

  “Enough, Chen,” Buckner said. He walked his horse forward. “Finster, I can make your life easy, or I can make it miserable.”

  “I’m always amenable to easy. Just ask anyone who knows me. But not that Chen fellow. He doesn’t know me like he says.”

  “You spew manure, Finster!” Chen said.

  Finster shifted out of Chen’s line of sight, putting Buckner and the horse between them. “Buckner, might I ask what this is all about?”

  “The murder of the Magus Supremeus, Ingrid.”

  Finster played up the shock. “The Magus Supremeus has been killed! How alarming!” He buried his face in his hand. “She was such a delight. The realm won’t be the same without her. Oh my, oh my! Whoever will King Rolem fornicate with at night? There’s a tremendous shortage of powerfully insane women in the realm.”

  “Don’t besmirch the king,” Buckner warned.

  “Besmirch! Ha! I did the king a favor, even though that was not my intent. I didn’t have any choice in the matter.” He reflected on the moment he could have abandoned Ingrid to her whims and moved on. “Actually, I suppose I did, but she would have hounded me one way or the other.”

  Chen moved into view. “So you admit it?”

  “Adept Chen, I merely defended myself and the kingdom from certain disaster.”

  “I am no adept!”

  “Certainly you are. Where did you learn to cast magic? In that lovely lavender tower?”

  “It’s not lavender!”

  “Purple, then.”

  “The Violet Citadel is known for superior magic!”

  “Yes, at children’s celebrations. Please, Chen, don’t get in a huff. There are major towers and minor ones, and the lilac tower you hail from ranks near the bottom.”

  “Violet!”

  “Should I be under the impression that you brought Chen to apprehend me?” Finster asked Buckner.

  “Chen and five hundred soldiers,” Buckner said. “It was the king’s orders, and as always, I will see them through. You seem reasonable, Finster. Can I assume that you will come along willingly?”

  “Oh, no. You should never assume that. After all, I’ve been accused of a crime of which I am not guilty. It was self-defense.”

  Buckner showed a handsome smile. “The king is a reasonable man. You’ll get your day in court.”

  “Oh, yes. The judges and jurors are such honest people. Let me make you this guarantee: I’ll never be judged in that court of fools.” The riverbank had filled from one end to the other with soldiers on horseback. A squad of them waded into the river, cutting off the last avenue of escape. He warned Buckner, “I’ll die first.”

  “Lucky for you, the king wants you alive, Finster,” Buckner said. “Once you’re found guilty, he aims to make an example of you. If I were you, I’d surrender and enjoy the sunny ride back to Mendes.”

  Finster didn’t reply.

  Chen spoke up. “We need
the barbarian, too. Call him back, Finster.”

  “What barbarian?”

  “That tree with limbs that dove into the river. He’ll have his trial, too.”

  “Is that so? So we are both accused of killing the same woman? I can testify right now that he did it. There, problem solved.”

  “We know what happened, Finster,” Chen said, tucking his hand up in his droopy sleeves. “Your fellow magus, Gregory, shared what the Eye of the Citadel revealed to him. Even though, according to King Rolem’s account, the scene fully explained itself. We know about the Founder’s Stone, Finster, and the rings. We intend to have them.”

  “We? Or the king?”

  Chen shrugged. “I am the king’s viceroy of magic now. I am entrusted with these treasures to be sure they are well cared for.”

  “The items of which you speak are well beyond your command, Chen.”

  “I could say the same for you,” Chen said, looking at Finster’s hands and face. “It’s clear the stone is taking a toll on you.”

  “If you are talking about the holes in my face, those were caused by one of yours turned harpy. Her name was Ravenlock. Sound familiar?”

  Chen stiffened. “Where is she?”

  “Dead. She was the stench in the Swift River tavern. I’m sure you passed through there. Am I going to be accused by the King of Rayland of her murder, too?”

  “She was a renegade and no longer associated with our order. I’ll be sure to pass along her loss.” Chen leaned back in the saddle. “So, what is it going to be, Finster? Will you come quietly or not?”

  Buckner’s hand eased over his sword. He gave a quick nod to his men. Steel snaked out of sheaths.

  Finster replied, “Not.”

  CHAPTER 37

  Finster tapped the scarab’s power. The air shimmered, and the horses jumped. Buckner fought to keep his horse beneath him. He looked at Chen. “What was that?”