They exchanged nods. Amcaro was ready to climb the last step before the doorway when a voice came from inside.
“Can we get on with this already? I swear you two move as slow as a couple of old crones.”
The two mages leaped through the door. Bursts of light shot from their hands toward their target, but the attacks seemed to have no effect as Nareash stood opposite them wearing a smug grin. When they realized Nareash had no intention of attacking them, they ceased their attacks, remaining wary of their situation.
“Come now, I hope that wasn’t the best you two had,” said Nareash. “Even Rhindora made a stronger show.” He nodded to the floor.
Amcaro’s gut tightened again at the loss of another of his former students.
Essan bent over to examine the woman’s body after an approving nod from Amcaro. No longer intimidating, she looked small and fragile. “She’s dead,” stated Essan in an emotionless tone.
“Of course,” said Nareash. “She tried to kill me.”
“Then why not attack us?” asked Essan.
As Essan probed Nareash, Amcaro took in his surroundings. Nareash stood at the room’s center, tall and slim with dark hair, his skin tanned bronze. His stance was one of confidence, hands tucked into the sleeves of his robe. The princess stood several steps behind Nareash. Elyse’s wavy auburn hair framed the fair skin of her face. Hands clasped at her waist, she wore a simple emerald dress that accentuated her light green eyes. I can feel your bonds, my dear. Nareash, is this your true advantage?
The room was deep but otherwise empty with very little in the way of furniture. Other than a small bed and a simple desk near the window, there was nothing. Various books and papers lay scattered over the floor in uneven stacks and piles.
Nareash shook his head. “Our relationship is far different than the one I shared with that foul woman. I hoped we could come to an understanding.” Nareash flicked his eyes toward Amcaro. “And, Master, without you all of this wouldn’t be possible. The last thing I want is to continue this senseless killing.” His eyes turned dark for a moment. “However, I will do what I must.”
Nareash’s grin broadened. “You have yet to speak, Master.”
“Let the princess go so we can speak in private.”
“Elyse will stay.”
“Is she what all this is about?” asked Amcaro.
Nareash chuckled. “What do you take me for, some teenage boy with a crush? She is easy on the eyes, but the only thing I care about is the power she’ll bring. Besides, you and I both know there is not enough sorcery in the world that can make a woman love.” He sighed. “Women are just too stubborn.” Nareash turned to the princess. “Isn’t that right?”
Elyse stood motionless as if unaware what had been said. But her eyes… she is still cognizant of her surroundings, thought Amcaro.
Turning back to the two mages, Nareash continued. “No, as you can see I have to settle for what she is. A beautiful woman trapped in her own mind, unable to let her mouth ruin her appeal.” He paused before chuckling again. “Some would say the perfect woman, no?”
“I don’t know what you’ve become Nareash but you are not the friend I knew,” said Essan.
“Please, self righteousness doesn’t suit you. I would have tried to work something out with you at the very least, but like the others it seems your lips are too firmly pressed against our Master’s rear to do anything other than what he defines as moral.” Nareash then turned to Amcaro. “Isn’t that right, Master?”
Amcaro didn’t answer, too busy searching for a solution to the situation.
“One Above, I will not be ignored by you.” The sleeves of Nareash’s robes separated revealing his long spindly fingers. In his right hand, he held a short ivory colored scepter.
In a soft whisper, Amcaro spoke, “Sacrynon’s Scepter.”
“They called Sacrynon the Mad Mage in his later years, right?” Nareash’s eyes drifted down absently at the hollow cylinder in his hand.
While Nareash was distracted by the scepter, Amcaro quickly looked to Elyse. If I could just get some sort of recognition from her that she understands. There. Was that it? Yes dear, you do understand, unfortunately all too well. I hope that you’ll know what to do when the time comes.
Amcaro’s eyes returned to Nareash just as the mage looked up. “You don’t sound surprised that I have it, Master.”
“I had my suspicions after witnessing the destruction you caused. Still, I never imagined you would be such a fool! Don’t you understand that the implement turned Sacrynon into a lunatic?” He paused. “It affects you already, doesn’t it? Where did you find it? Aurnon the First took the scepter to Quoron four hundred years ago, never to return. He was to destroy the abomination.”
“It affects only my power. And obviously, Aurnon the First failed. Imagine my surprise when I discovered one of the most powerful weapons in the world used as a candle holder by a naïve king.” Nareash grinned. “I laughed for days. To have something so powerful and not know it, that is truly madness. Who cares how it got there? I have it now.”
Without warning, Essan lashed out at Nareash with blue tendrils of sorcery flowing from his hands. At such close range, the power would send most to the ground in agony. However, Nareash used the scepter to absorb and nullify Essan’s attack. Amcaro joined in and together they sought to overwhelm the deranged man they had once called a friend.
* * *
Elyse’s world was void of sound. In the small room with her were three others and yet she felt completely alone. Since discovering her father’s manipulation weeks ago, Nareash had kept her in a state where she was unable to communicate with anyone. She could not move, speak, nor even hear unless he chose to allow it. Mostly, the High Mage gave her only sight, generous he had he said in giving her anything at all. The only proof I have of existence is watching life go by around me.
Today she realized that the shred of mercy Nareash had granted her was the cruelest thing of all. She had watched the High Mage burn and murder all she held dear. Anyone and everyone fell under his wrath and she was the sole living witness to it. At first, she was thankful she could not hear the cries of despair, but without that distraction she was more attuned to the expressed anguish in each victim’s face as it twisted in pain.
And she was unable to look away.
The silent screams still echoed in her deaf ears, the images forever etched into her memories. During the ordeal she prayed ceaselessly to the One Above. She prayed for just one moment free of constraint to help them. Maybe I could have used that moment to shout a word of warning or even whisper one of comfort. No doubt I would be dead as well, but isn’t death better than this?
Now the same scene repeated itself before her eyes, only the actors were different. Elyse watched in bitter anguish, helpless again as the last two people able to stop her nightmare lived their last moments. She knew they would die just as all the others had today. Even Amcaro, a man she thought of as more of a father than her own looked doubtful about the task before him. If the resolve of one as powerful as he falters, then what hope do I have?
Elyse watched the interaction between the High Mages with fascination. Nareash opened his sleeves, revealing the hollow cylinder in his hand. Essan’s reaction was one of confusion, coupled with fright. But Amcaro seems as if he expected it. Whatever it was, she understood its importance to Nareash. I haven’t seen it out of his hand since he first started carrying it, back when the whisperings of my father’s manipulation started.
Elyse focused on Essan who seemed to regain his nerve. She watched the High Mage’s face tighten. He is ready to attack. One Above, help them please. She looked back to Amcaro. He’s looking at me! He must know that I can’t respond. Elyse’s eyes locked on Amcaro’s for a moment, his eyes flicked to the white object in Nareash’s hand and then a moment later met her eyes once again. I…I know what you want. The High Mage’s jaw clenched for a second, nodding his head ever so slightly, the movement so small anyone
other than the intended person would miss it. He knows…that I know. He wants me to help, but I can’t do anything like this…
Essan lashed out at Nareash, the power vibrating through Elyse’s body. But Nareash didn’t even flinch. The wand glowed and the flames hoping to engulf the mage dissipated without any ill effect. Undeterred, Essan attacked again and again, now alternating with Amcaro. From what Elyse could tell, their attempts were little more than a bother to Nareash. With the slightest of gestures, Nareash struck both High Mages at once, knocking them off of their feet. The deranged mage threw his head back and although she was deaf, Elyse knew he was laughing as he approached the fallen men. Not again. One Above, please don’t leave me so helpless.
Nareash lifted the wand and pointed it at Essan who began to writhe in pain. Amcaro attempted to stop the attack, but a wave of Nareash’s other hand blocked the effort. Amcaro tried once again, but this time Elyse saw that his eyes looked at her and not at Nareash. Elyse’s body tingled, starting in her limbs and then moving to her torso and head. To her surprise, she felt the weight of her body after being unable to do so for weeks. She heard Nareash laugh. Amcaro’s eyes returned to Nareash and Elyse understood what happened.
“Master, I never expected it to be this easy,” said Nareash. “I didn’t even feel your last pathetic attempt to stop me. And to think I once admired you.” He paused. “Master.” He said disgusted. “I have no Master.” The scepter hovered over Amcaro now that Essan’s body lay still.
Elyse’s eyes darted about the space looking for something that she could use to stop the mad man. Her gaze finally rested on the simple desk in the room where a thin knife lay. I’m to attack a High Mage with a weapon more suited to clean one’s nails. No matter, I’d rather die than live as before. She reached, her body almost forgetting how to respond.
Elyse crept across the room, moving as fast as she dared. Her body screamed with every step and her heart pounded in her chest as she moved her stiff limbs. She was certain he would hear her clumsy movements, and any second Nareash would turn to her, trapping her once again in an invisible cell, this time not even with sight to keep her company. Amcaro feebly attacked in two consecutive bursts of fire but Nareash brushed them off as if they were no more than dust on his robes.
“You are done,” said Nareash in a solemn tone.
The scepter began to shimmer and the air thinned. Recognizing the urgency, Elyse leaped and sank the thin blade deep into Nareash’s shoulder. The High Mage screamed as the wand flew from his hand, just as Amcaro released a concussive blast of his own, filling the room with blue light. Nareash tumbled backward, sent sprawling across the room and Elyse was thrown into a corner.
After a moment she slowly opened her eyes, realizing as she sat up, groggy, that she was the only person moving. She scurried over to Amcaro who was face down on the floor. She turned him over. “Master Amcaro, please. You must wake up! Master?”
“I’m here, dear,” said Amcaro through shallowed breaths.
“Oh, thank the One Above, you’re alright.”
A thin smile formed on his face as he tried to speak, interrupted by a coughing fit, blood spraying from his mouth. “Hardly. I’m dying.”
“No, you can’t. You saved me. You stopped Nareash. My father’s dead. Everyone is dead. I need you. I don’t know what to do.”
“What do you mean? You will rule your kingdom.”
“But I can’t. I…”
“You needn’t worry,” said Nareash.
Elyse whipped her head around. On the far side of the room, Nareash staggered to his feet.
“I am more than capable of ruling without you.” He turned his eyes to Amcaro. “And Master, I spoke too hastily of you. Even now you teach me a valuable lesson in acting. Quite convincing. Still, you left yourself in a less than ideal position in doing so.” The High Mage limped across the room, arm hanging at his side.
Watching his crooked path, Elyse realized that he was not walking toward her and Amcaro but instead to a stack of fallen papers. Barely visible underneath laid an ivory scepter.
Elyse dove across the floor an instant before the hobbled mage had time to react. She crawled back as Nareash came forward and slapped the cylinder into Amcaro’s outstretched arm.
Elyse saw Nareash begin to glow as he readied an attack. He screamed. “No!”
A burst of self contained energy shot from the Scepter and struck Nareash. When the energy dissipated, Elyse's mouth dropped open, eyes welling in relief. Nareash, her tormentor, was gone. Obliterated.
Elyse returned to Amcaro’s side. He gasped for air.
“Rest, Master. You’ll be ok.”
With a worried look and eyes wide, he tried to speak, “He…He…” and another coughing fit seized him, taking control of his body.
“Please, rest. He’s gone, but you’ve weakened yourself further, you need to stay calm.”
Amcaro tried to speak again, this time between breaths, his chest rising with each word. “No…too weak…listen…to me...the Scepter…tell no one…show no one…Nareash…” A sharp intake of breath and then his chest relaxed.
“No. I need you. Please.” Elyse’s words trailed off. She knew her pleas were worthless. One Above, help me. She sat on the floor, head in her hands as tears held in for weeks flowed. She wept for everyone, the servants, the guardsmen, the High Mages, Amcaro, and even her father. But most of all she wept for herself. She was alone again.
Chapter 2
Waves crashed against a weathered shore and masked the sounds of Kifzo warriors slipping into the water. Tobin cringed as the cold water lapped against the exposed black skin of his torso. He tensed his muscles, shook off a chill, and breathed in a chest full of the cool night air to still his racing heart. He ignored another shiver as he guided his craft inland behind the warriors preceding him.
The full moon provided enough light for him to make out the lead warrior edging his boat onto land. Their Warleader crouched low and, gesturing, sent scouts off in several directions. Tobin was last out of the water and sand crunched softly beneath his feet as he made his way up shore.
The voyage from Juanoq had gone better than he had anticipated. Only one Kifzo died during the long trip that began weeks ago, a freak accident that ended with a broken neck. Although one man, the loss was great as even the lowliest Kifzo was equal to three ordinary warriors. However, they could not be delayed with a proper burial, for the man had not fallen in combat. Their Warleader chose to push on instead, so the fallen warrior lay rotting where he fell. “We have no time for the dead,” was the only explanation given for the decision. More than Tobin had expected.
“I’m surprised to see you so far behind, Brother,” said Kaz, his mocking voice cutting through the night.
Tobin paused and glanced to either side. He saw that the first of the scouts had returned and reported. Coupled with his brother’s raised voice, Tobin concluded there was no immediate threat nearby. “First or last makes no difference to me.” He came up to Kaz.
“I’m glad that you feel so comfortable in the rear, Brother.” The word brother rolled off Kaz’s tongue as if a foul curse. It was no secret that Kaz hated Tobin. Yet the Warleader was always quick to remind him.
“Where would you have me next, Warleader?” asked Tobin, ignoring the jibe.
“Go to Walor,” Kaz growled, “Stay with him until the last of his scouts have returned. Come back when you have all the details. We move within the hour.”
“Such a short rest?”
“Nubinya’s capture is dependent upon our success. That means for tonight we must push on.” He spat. “Besides, you remember what Uncle Cef taught us about rest?”
Tobin made a face. How could I forget? “Aye, rest is for women and the weak.”
Kaz looked down at Tobin’s left ankle. “So, do you need rest?”
You wonder if the ankle bothers me. The ankle you broke ten years ago. Of course it does, but I dare not admit it. “No. I was only thinking of the
others after the long journey.”
“It isn’t your place to think on such things, Brother, not unless I tell you to do so,” said Kaz, taking a step forward, closing the distance between them. Tobin could see the hate in his brother’s eyes, their whites a contrast to his black skin.
Tobin never knew when Kaz’s temper would get the best of him nor the reason for it. No doubt deciding whether or not it would be worth it to kill me. But you still need me, don’t you?
Only inches apart, he could feel the heated breath from Kaz’s flared nostrils. So much anger and yet I don’t even know why you hate me.
The two men were near matches in size and physical appearance, hardened from years of training under their father’s watchful eyes, pushed to their physical limits by their uncle. At one time a fight between the two would have been too close to call, but now, with a poorly mended ankle, Tobin knew he could not match his brother physically. Certainly not his ruthlessness.
Despite these things, Tobin did not fear Kaz, nor did he fear death. Shame deterred him from engaging his brother. The shame he knew he would bring to their father by dying at his own brother’s hands calmed his temper. Besides, I put my ambitions aside long ago. I won’t walk down Kaz’s path to have a better life.
Tobin conceded and turned his eyes away. “As you say, Warleader.”
As he walked away, Tobin noticed several of the Kifzo readying their weapons for the work ahead of them. Many regarded him, hate in their eyes, having witnessed what passed between him and Kaz.
Just like Kaz, they tolerate me because they must.
* * *
Tobin found Walor further up shore, atop a sandbank covered in loose gravel, near an outcropping of windswept rocks with edges smoothed away. Walor’s odd stance and short stature singled him out from the others. The Kifzo had a leg propped up on one of the battered rocks and his body leaned forward while he listened intently to a steady stream of reports from returning scouts. Tobin stood off to the side and waited until the last warrior left.
Rise and Fall (Book 1) Page 2
