Zach was something of an enigma to the dark wizard. He had been ensnared by the lich who dwelt in Lordsdeep and then compelled to perform a task that freed the lich from his eternal bonds. In return, the lich promised Zach that he could have all the lich's material and magical wealth; a great prize indeed. Shalthazar had not decided whether this was a matter of true concern. The lich had proved useful in that it could exert its powerful will, and thus Umber's will, upon the human from a great distance. The lich's communication with Umber had been the only reason that Shalthazar knew of the arrival of the companions in the Underllars at all, a distinct failing in his own network of spies. But Shalthazar's apprentices in Lordsdeep had learned a great deal about the lich while they were searching for Umber's secret device. The ancient creature was not loyal to anyone, and seemed only to be motivated by its need to die and move on the underworld. It had proven over time that it would allow nothing to get in its way. If it could exert its will on Zach so very far from Lordsdeep, he would have to ensure that the lich's will was not contrary to his own.
And how had those pitiful wretches found themselves in the Underllars in the first place? From the reports of those few troks that survived their encounter with this ragtag band, they were, in fact, the Fyrbold and his friends. Shalthazar's forces still held that glorious city, and that thought cheered the greedy wizard. Unlimited wealth in precious metals and gems would make future endeavors possible. All the more reason to ensure that those who knew of his secret city were destroyed. Shalthazar sensed that the lich-prince of Lordsdeep had a hand in the companions' arrival in the lost city in the first place, playing on Zach's greed in order to facilitate its own freedom. While it was a vexing matter it was one that the evil wizard could not afford to dwell on; Umber was a cruel master and had little time for excuses or failure. Shalthazar wanted to find the device before he started his springtime campaign, and Umber was breathing down his neck to see that it was done. For the moment, he had to focus on obeying Umber's wishes and trust that Umber's Pack would catch up to the thieves soon. Meanwhile, he would have to prepare for the possibility that Umber could choose to eliminate him when his usefulness was exhausted.
One of the dark god's decidedly unpleasant minions, the Headless Rider, seemingly had things well enough in hand in the Cklathish land of Ckaymru but had allowed Shalthazar's prey to escape and lost possession of the infamous Black Keep. The lair of the ghost-lord known as the Black Baron was located in a strategic position and it galled the dark wizard to have lost that prize. When he had learned that the dread knight had captured one of the companions, a diminutive Silver Mountain elf, he had been pleased. Then the dim-witted undead knight managed to temper that great accomplishment with failure too.
Shalthazar let out a deep breath to calm and center himself as he stood before the door to his official chambers, the room in which he most often chose to entertain his guests. He enacted a multi spell which allowed his subconscious mind to consider other matters and actions on many levels simultaneously while his conscious mind dealt with the matter at hand. He willed the door to the chamber to open and glided inside, his feet hovering above the floor. Wrapped in a haze of darkness and shadow, he radiated powerful energy that instilled fear within underlings and, at the same time, shrouded his face.
Shalthazar truly loved this chamber; he designed it with complete intimidation and domination in mind. A large desk of black wood inscribed with magical Sigils of silver and gold took up a great portion of the room; to visitors, it seemed as though the desk's Sigils were charged with magical light. The desk was raised a few feet above the floor so that Shalthazar always looked down on his guests. There was an assortment of pictures and tapestries designed to baffle the eye and bewilder the mind, so that anyone visiting the Prophet-General of Ilian Nah would be constantly disoriented.
The dark wizard floated into the chamber and passed the remarkably calm visitor who stood before his desk, a cloak of shadows trailed behind him. He floated around the desk and seated himself in the throne-like chair, decorated with leering skulls and stark white bones, the hood of his crimson and black robe drawn low. The visitor before him bowed in respect, then straightened. Shalthazar said nothing, simply staring at the visitor and processing the information that was flowing into his mind on many different levels at once, trying to see what sort of mettle the visitor possessed.
Satisfied that his visitor would not be cowed easily--the wizard detested craven underlings--he acknowledged this person's presence.
"Why have you interrupted my work?" he asked softly, his voice ripe with deadly power.
"Forgive me, Great One. I am Zacharya of Hyrum, former friend and companion of Carym of Hyrum. I have information which I am certain you desire."
The wizard softened his demeanor, a little, allowing the faintest hint of a smile to play at his lips. What a fortunate turn of events, he thought.
"You have captured this Carym of Hyrum for me?"
"No, Great One--"
"You have fled from him, have you not?"
"Yes, Great One--"
"Why have you interrupted my work?" asked the wizard again, a dangerous edge in his voice. The dark wizard ensured that the shadowy corners of the room seemed to come alive to those brought before him; to Zach it would appear as though eyes and shapes flitted amidst the shadows, watching eagerly.
"I know Carym well, Great One. I know where he is now and I know where he will go," Zach paused a moment. He appeared confident and undeterred by the wizard's unsettling presence. "More importantly, I know how he will get there."
"I see," murmured Shalthazar. "And what reward do you think you deserve, Zacharya of Hyrum?"
"The reward I seek is merely the glory which will come from being part of your great cause."
"Hmmm, somehow I doubt that," the elf paused, considering. "I have heard something of your exploits in Powyss," the wizard said in a very low voice. "The work of the Phantom was commendable, yet somewhat counterproductive to my own cause in Ckaymru."
"Forgive me, Great One. My intent was not to undermine your alliances--"
"Yes, yes," he waived his hand dismissively at the man. "I know about the lich-curse and your extraordinary dagger."
Zach bowed partially and straightened.
"You were successful in drawing out Harfour's heir and killing him, and that drew the ire of the Nyzyr."
"Yes, Great One. That is so."
"Cerunnos was not pleased and was prepared to kill you. You are formidable, Zacharya, but I do not think you could stand alone against one of Umber's Dark Disciples.
"Fortunately for you, that is where Balzath rescued you." The wizard was pleased to see that the man before him was calm, even though it was clear the man resented the wizard's choice of words. Shalthazar detested many of the arse-kissing underlings who worked for him and he had been hoping to find an assassin to aid him in his plans. It seemed he had found the right man. Any man who could withstand the fearsome presence of the Prophet-General of Ilian Nah and not be unnerved to the core, would not collapse under the pressure of the great works the wizard had in store for him. "Yet, certainly you would have escaped Powyss nonetheless."
"I thank Your Holy Eminence for Balzath's timely arrival," offered Zach, grudgingly. "I owe her my life."
"Well, I think you can find a suitable way to repay her. She seems quite taken with you," the wizard was pleased that someone else had become the focus of the capable -yet seemingly mad- witch. "Tell me, will Carym of Hyrum turn to the Shadow with the proper motivation?"
"Carym has a very troubled soul. I have seen him give in to the darkness that lurks in his heart a number of times, other times he seems able to banish and overcome it," Zach explained. "I know that he is Fyrbold. And yet I have seen him use the power of the Air Sigil, the Earth Sigil, the Spirit Sigil and even the power of the Shadow Sigil. He has found a great strength in his devotion to Zuhr, but he is a flawed man. His weakness is the Keneerie woman whom he loves, Gennevera. That r
elationship might be exploited in order to turn him."
"In what way?"
"Carym's wife and child were killed during a Vaardic raid on our village years ago. Their deaths triggered a cold, relentless, fury in him. He led a campaign against the Vaard in retaliation and ensured that their butchery of our people was repaid in kind. Perhaps if Gennevera were to turn against him, or die, he might be driven to such extremes again."
"I like the way you think, Zacharya. If Carym of Hyrum can be turned to the Shadow, he would become a great weapon in my service," the wizard thrummed his fingers on slick surface of his great desk. "I have another task in mind for you."
"My Lord, Carym came into possession of something while we were in Lordsdeep and I would like to offer it to you as a token of my loyalty."
"Go on," replied the wizard, intrigued.
"I do not know exactly how it came to be his, yet I do know it is something of great value. He claimed that this object was the home of a long-dead Fyrbold called Mathonry, who resides within it. I know that Carym learned how to use the device and he had even been inside where he received instruction in the use of his magic from the ancient being."
"I see," said the wizard, one eye twitching slightly. Although the man in front of him would be unable to see any such facial expressions due to his magic, the wizard was annoyed with himself over it.
"Where is the object now?" the sinister mage leaned ever so slightly closer as though he knew the answer to the question. Zach reached into a pocket inside his long black coat and removed something from within. He held the palm of his hand up before the dark wizard and bowed his head. A shiny box of beautiful craftsmanship twinkled, despite the shadows in the room.
"As I felt compelled to take this from Carym's unworthy hands before I left his company, I now feel compelled to give it to you. A gift, and a symbol of my devotion the Prophet-General of Ilian Nah."
Shalthazar held aloft an eager hand, bony white flesh stark against the black velvet of his coat, and the device known as Fyrendi's Home drifted across space between the wizard and the assassin. The dark wizard couldn't believe his luck! Umber was desperate to recover this very item, yet the god had not seen fit to disclose why he wanted it. He suspected it had something to do with the being that now occupied the device, though he doubted very much that its name was Mathonry. His mind began to consider the possibilities that the possession, or destruction, of this device could hold for him.
"Zacharya, you and I are going to be great friends," said the wizard softly. "You have no idea how valuable this device truly is," the wizard held the device in his hands, eying it reverently. "I am going to reward you with the power that you seek, Zacharya of Hyrum.
"Baelor told you that you would be 'the Shadow's Blade, did he not?" asked the wizard, Zach nodded. "Then you shall be called Shadowblade. You may forget the Phantom of Powyss, and Cerunnos and the Nyzyr. You are now under my command and my protection, the Dark Disciples do not dare cross me."
For now, he said to himself.
"Thank you great one!" said Zach with apparent sincerity. There was a soft knock on the wizard's door. Shalthazar said nothing, but looked at the door as it swung silently inward. Framed by the door was the vivacious woman who had become the bane of Zach's existence, Balzath. After a pause for dramatic effect, the woman sauntered into the wizard's chambers. She was beautiful and voluptuous and had tried her charms on the dark wizard over and over, but the elf who hailed from another world had long ago conquered those baser instincts. Shalthazar never let a woman exert her feminine charms over him, for that was a sure way to allow a woman to have control. His lust was for the acquisition of power and he studiously avoided losing it for any reason.
And yet Balzath was a witch with no equal on Llars, either in power or deadly beauty. She was a powerful magic-wielder, a witch of some obscure order whose name Shalthazar did not care to recall. She was a very determined woman and a Dark Disciple, which made her extraordinarily dangerous. A fact that led the dark wizard to wonder if perhaps Zach's dagger had protected him from the witch's magic. And, he thought wryly, she was mad.
"What do you want, Balzath?"
"Nothing but your boundless love, my sweet!" she purred, leaning suggestively over the edge of his desk. Seemingly from nowhere a ball of flame shaped like a heart appeared in the large room and drifted across it to stop before the dark wizard's desk.
"I don't understand why I tolerate your insanity," he said quietly, using the Tides to snuff out her spell. Somewhere on another level of his mind Shalthazar registered the fact that the spells he had cast to seal his office from all other sources of magic had failed or had been manipulated by the mad woman.
"Oh, but you do love me, Shalthy!" she swooned, letting out a cackling laugh as she withdrew from her master's side. She floated back down to Zach's level and gave him a sly wink, her raven tresses shimmering in the light of the chandelier. Shalthazar's own enhanced senses detected the faintest sigh escape from Zach, bringing an inward smile to the dark wizard; it seemed the man had come to understand Balzath already. If the assassin failed in everything he did for Shalthazar, there was one thing that he had already accomplished: diverting Balzath's attention. "Zachy here has been such a wonderful companion while you and I have been apart."
"I'm sure he has," replied the wizard wryly. "Our new friend now has two remarkable deeds to his credit."
"Two?" she asked, her voice husky and somewhat pouty.
"Indeed. First, he has delivered to me the device which you failed to find." The woman raised her eyebrows slightly at the rebuke. "And that has not escaped Umber's notice."
"Had you but asked, My Lord Shalthazar," she said with exaggerated drama, "I would have delivered you your prize."
Shalthazar pointed a finger at the woman and a beam of sable light shot forth from his finger, sailed across the room, and struck Balzath in the backside. The alluring woman let out a shriek and jumped, rubbing her aching rear.
"Insolent witch!" he hissed. The magical box had been under her very nose and Zach had managed to keep it hidden from her, an impressive feat. "Zach has volunteered to lead you to the Everpool, thereby saving you from another humiliating failure!"
Balzath regained her composure and put an arm around Zach, ensuring that her ample bosom was brushing up against the uncomfortable assassin. Shalthazar knew she was trying to play them both but he would have none of it.
"Zachy is just full of surprises, isn't he?" she purred, running her hand down his back and brushing across his backside. "So intent to please his new lord!" she whispered in his ear. The dangerous edge in her voice told Shalthazar that his efforts to anger her were working, Zach could deal with her dark moods now. "What was the second?"
"Keeping you away from me," he replied. But the wizard interrupted the woman and diverted her attention to the matter at hand before. "You will go to the Ogerwall Mountains and seek an audience with the King of the Ogers on my behalf. That is all you need to know for now. I will send you further orders to be opened only when you have been granted audience." Shalthazar smiled, knowing that none could see his expression. It was clear that the orders were very unexpected to the assassin. "After that mission is complete, Shadowblade will lead you to the Everpool."
"Oh, we are going to have so much fun!" giggled Balzath. "I just love to travel and meet new people. Don't you?" Shalthazar was amazed at how sincere the woman could make herself sound.
"You may go, Zach," said Shalthazar, his interest in the matter rapidly fading.
Zach bowed low. "When and where am I to report?"
"You will report to Balzath in the morning, you leave tomorrow. And when you have found and secured the Everpool for me, you may return to Hybrand to satisfy your debt to Eriagabbyn."
Zach straightened from his bow and stood tall, his face a mask of stone. "As you wish, Lord Shalthazar." The dark elf wizard knew that Zach might be very keen indeed to return to Hybrand to repay Eriagabbyn, in more ways than one. He po
ndered the possibilities of that scenario as the assassin left the room. Shalthazar was not very fond of Umber's Disciples, and if this assassin had the power and ability to snuff them out then so much the better. He could then replace these conniving monsters with his own, loyal, disciples.
As one level of his mind continued to think out and plan for every eventuality, another recalled Balzath was still in the room.
"Why are you still here?" he asked, examining the new object on his desk, his tone exasperated. He sensed the displeasure radiating from the woman like a cloud of angry hornets. He very seriously contemplated having Zach make her his next kill.
"Can I touch it?" she asked. There was mischief in her eyes, her voice was husky.
Shalthazar's anger flared then, he was growing tired of the woman's constant innuendo. With the flick of a finger the Tides were blocked from the room. Chains of dark energy appeared and manacled themselves to her wrists and ankles. Suddenly the chains became tight and she flew backward through the air, a loud breath escaped her mouth as her body slammed into the stone wall. For a single joyful moment, Balzath was speechless. Shalthazar smiled, hoping to savor the experience.
The Tomb of the Dark Paladin Page 9
