“Please,” Calibot said. “Take me to my uncle, so we may grieve.”
Rivella thought about it a second longer and then nodded. He looked worried, but he obviously thought family trumped all other concerns.
“Very well,” he said. “Follow us and keep your weapons sheathed.”
“Of course,” Devon said.
Rivella pulled on his reins to turn his horse around and then rode off. Calibot, Devon, and Liliana followed him, flanked by the other two soldiers.
Calibot wanted to believe they were one step closer to the end of this ordeal, but he just couldn’t do it. A sense of dread deep within him told him the trouble was only worsening.
Chapter 22: Confessions
Calibot sat in Zod’s tent flanked by Devon and Liliana as his uncle scowled at them. He’d changed since the last time Calibot saw him. His beard and his hair had gone largely silver, although you could still see vestiges of his original black. How long had it been since they’d last seen each other? It had been before Calibot left home, but how many years?
Zod had also gotten fatter since his last visit. He was still a powerful-looking man, and Calibot didn’t doubt he was every bit as strong as he’d been. But there was more of him now. You could see it in his face and in his waist. Middle age and the stress of running his operation hadn’t been kind to him. His features were more weathered than chiseled now. His blue eyes, which used to pierce, had softened and become a little murkier.
But despite the creep of age, Zod the Fearless still cut an imposing figure. He was broad-shouldered and threatening, and his face was unfriendly.
“So the Council of Elders refused to give you the body?” Zod said.
“Yes,” Calibot replied. “They told us Father had been murdered, and they needed his remains to further their investigation.”
Zod stroked his beard and thought. The lines on his face seemed to deepen as he contemplated the facts before him.
“Why would they need the body for that?” he mused.
“I don’t know,” Calibot said. He thought his uncle was speaking rhetorically, but he answered anyway.
“So you cremated the body and smuggled it out of the city?” Zod went on.
“I wouldn’t exactly say, ‘smuggled’,” Devon said. “We got as far as the gate before we were stopped by the watch. We had to fight our way out.”
Calibot was grateful to Devon for not revealing exactly why they had to escape Eldenberg with violence. He knew Devon was being cagey about giving Zod information, but he was relieved just the same not to have to explain his decision-making.
“Because they discovered you had the ashes and were attempting to leave,” Zod asked.
“Presumably,” Devon replied. “We didn’t ask them any questions.”
Zod gave him a thin smile. Calibot knew his uncle didn’t have much of a sense of humor. Like Gothemus, he was way too serious. He likely wasn’t amused by Devon’s quip.
“And you,” Zod said, turning his attention to Liliana. “Why didn’t you inform me Gothemus had been killed?”
Liliana looked shocked at first. She clearly hadn’t expected to be addressed.
“Begging your pardon, Lord Zod,” she said, “but those weren’t my instructions from him. I received a message that I was to go to Dalasport immediately, find Calibot and tell him his father was dead, and instruct him to travel to Eldenberg to claim the body. We were to bring it back here and cremate it and then scatter the ashes on the lake.”
“But why didn’t you tell me any of this before leaving?” Zod insisted.
“Gothemus didn’t tell me to do that,” she said. “His instructions were explicit, so I followed them to the letter.”
Zod sat back and rolled his eyes. It was obvious he’d never had any respect for her. Calibot understood the sentiment. Liliana was strange, to say the least. But he’d found her growing on him. She came up with unique solutions to problems when he least expected it, like using the fire dust on their pursuers at Eldenberg or turning her staff into a serpent during the ambush. He wished Zod would treat her better.
“Well, at least we won’t have to deal with the Eldenbergians,” Zod commented. “Sounds like you took care of them.”
“I wouldn’t be too sure of that,” Devon said. “If they were that serious about recovering the ashes after we left the city, it’s possible they won’t accept the setback.”
“Although with Lord Vicia dead, they won’t be in contact with the hunt party,” Liliana said. “We may have bought some time.”
Zod nodded and stroked his beard again. Calibot watched him turn possibilities over in his mind.
“That means we’d only have to deal with Elmanax,” he said.
“Who’s Elmanax,” Devon inquired.
Calibot felt alarms go off in his mind at the mere mention of that name. He didn’t know who it was, but if Elmanax was involved things were bad.
“Elmanax is a gnome,” Zod said with a sigh. “He attempted to kill me two days ago, when I was trying to get into the tower.”
Liliana and Devon exchanged a look. Calibot grew more worried. The alarms in his head started screeching.
“We fought a gnome in Eldenberg,” Liliana said.
“Yes,” Devon said. “We had to defeat him to get to Gothemus’s body. Liliana blasted him with a spell, but he vanished.”
“That’s what happened here too,” Zod said. “Alistair hit him with a lightning bolt, leaving nothing but a smoking pile of dirt, but he didn’t think he’d killed him.”
“Gnomes are fairies,” Liliana said. “That makes them immortal.”
“So Alistair said,” Zod replied.
“Which means he’s likely to be back,” Devon said. “The question is why.”
“Oh, that’s no mystery,” Zod said. “He wants the Eye of the Dragon.”
“What?” Liliana said. “Why?”
Zod looked away. He clearly didn’t want to answer. Calibot knew immediately Elmanax’s quest for the Eye of the Dragon was the source of the alarm in his head.
“Lord Zod,” Devon said gently, “perhaps you’d better tell us what you know. Elmanax is clearly powerful. He was involved somehow with your brother’s death, and he’s tried to kill you. He will surely go after Calibot if necessary to satisfy his desire for the Eye. We can help you best if we fully understand the situation.”
“Shit,” Zod said, spitting in disgust. “A poet, his lover, and a talentless sorcerer’s apprentice? You three could help me against a gnome who survived a direct hit from a lightning bolt? I’d laugh if the circumstances weren’t so grave.”
“For such a fine commander of men, you’re a very poor judge of them, Uncle,” Calibot said. He had no idea where the words were coming from, but he was speaking as he never had to Zod. “That ‘talentless sorcerer’s apprentice’ cast a spell that was every bit as effective as the one of your right-hand man, Alistair. Devon is not only a former soldier, but a respected member of Duke Boordin’s court. He has tactical knowledge and influence at court you are likely to need.
“And as for me, regardless of my profession, I was summoned to this conflict by my father’s voice from beyond the grave. The brother you are doubtless here to avenge wanted me in this position. So put aside your contempt for people you barely know and share with us the information we need.”
Calibot fell silent. Everyone stared incredulously at him, especially Zod. Calibot suspected the only person who might have dared to speak to him in that tone was Gothemus. In fact, it felt as if his father was speaking through him. That sensation left him nauseous, but he hid his disgust behind a glare.
Zod studied him for a moment. After the initial shock of the outburst passed, he looked on Calibot with curiosity rather than anger.
“You’ve changed since last I saw you,” Zod commented. “Something’s very different about you.”
“I’m not the child you remember,” Calibot said.
“No,” Zod said after a very brief pa
use. “Obviously not.”
He leaned back in his chair again and stroked his beard as if Calibot’s change in demeanor was some grand mystery to be considered carefully. Then he sighed again, and his shoulders sagged. Suddenly, he looked old.
“Many years ago, when we were young, Gothemus and I spent a lot of time plundering. I didn’t understand then that he was on a lifelong quest to bring the entire world under his control, but, if I had, I wouldn’t have cared. We were partners. We both wanted power, and Gothemus knew how to find it.
“First, we explored forgotten tombs. Gothemus always knew where there was some old wizard or warlord who’d died with a special treasure that would make us richer or more powerful. Then, we went up into the mountains to raid goblin lairs and into the Wild Lands to steal from dragons and other monstrosities.
“Buoyed by our success and his growing power, Gothemus became more ambitious. He started dreaming of acquiring the Treasures of the Earth, and he researched them carefully.
“Finally, he learned of the Eye of the Dragon. This one interested him above all others, because it had power over dragons, which, he discovered, were the very heart of the Wild Lands. Gothemus realized the Eye made it possible to control the cursed forest.
“We both knew that the greatest source of iron was in the Blackskull Mountains east of the Wild Lands, and we’d often thought a man who could somehow mine and ship it back to civilization could control the balance of power in the Known World. But it was impossible, of course. The Wild Lands were too dangerous and unpredictable to make shipping through them profitable. It would cost too much money and too many soldiers or too much magic to keep enough of the shipment safe from the horrors of that wilderness.
“But when Gothemus discovered he could effectively control the Wild Lands through the Eye of the Dragon, he came up with a plan. He would build a tower at the edge of Silver Lake from which he could influence the strange forest, keeping its monstrosities away from the river and enabling shipments to pass through unmolested. Meanwhile, I would establish a fortress and mines at the base of the mountains by the river. We’d be able to control both ends of the operation, which meant we wouldn’t have to share the wealth with anyone else.
“There was just one hitch. The Treasures of the Earth are guarded by gnomes. Each is given specific items to ward, and they have powerful magic to defend them.
“I sometimes think this was the purpose of all Gothemus’s early studies. I wonder if he hadn’t planned all along to steal one of the Known World’s great treasures and if he knew he would have to defeat an immortal to do it. He’d been preparing himself for this moment.
“True or not, he was ready. He located the Eye of the Dragon, and he learned of the gnome assigned to guard it. His name was Elmanax, and he was rumored to be particularly powerful – he’d have to be to have been assigned to the Eye.
“We found him under the earth just where Gothemus said we would. Gothemus did battle with him. That was the plan. They engaged in an epic magical duel. Gothemus wasn’t naïve enough to believe he could win; he just needed to keep him engaged long enough for me to get the Eye.
“It worked to perfection right up to the point that I had the Eye of the Dragon in my hand. Gothemus later surmised Elmanax was tied to the artifact somehow – that he had a bond with it that told him where it was and what was happening. Because, no sooner had I taken it from its hiding place, than the gnome turned on me.
“I reacted immediately. I was no sorcerer, but I was one of the finest swordsmen in the Known World. I struck Elmanax with my blade, which was made of iron. Iron and fairies don’t mix very well.
“Personally, I don’t think the little bastard had ever been challenged or hurt before. Gothemus dueled him pretty tightly, and Elmanax was showing strain. When I whacked him with an iron sword and drew blood, he panicked and fled.
“It took Gothemus months to master the Eye. We got it out of the underworld easily enough, but being able to control its magic was another matter. While he worked on it, he was crazy. He didn’t sleep much; he lost weight; he muttered all the time. When I tried to talk to him, he’d look at me like he didn’t know who I was.
“And then, about the time I thought he was truly going insane, he got control of it. Suddenly, he was Gothemus again. But he was different. He was darker. Before, he was obsessive and wild. From that point forward, he always had one eye turned towards some vision of the future. He was never fully talking to you. Part of him was somewhere else.”
Calibot nodded. That was the father he knew – never really with him in the room; always at least partially elsewhere.
“But he had control of the Eye,” Zod continued. “He made Sear, the King of the Dragons, bow before him. He forced the giant spiders and the basilisks and the ogres away from the riverbanks. He even made the trees part their branches to ensure clear passage. Once he had control of the Eye of the Dragon, Gothemus was the most powerful man in the Known World.
“We traveled to the Blackskull Mountains, and he used his magic to shape a fortress for me out of the cliffs. He found the richest veins of ore and directed me to mine there. Then he came back here, raised up his tower, and had a road built between here and Dalasport. I shipped the ore to him down the river, and the duke sent his crews up to fetch it.
“And we all got rich – Gothemus and Boordin and I. The iron trade alone made us powerful, and, because Gothemus controlled the Wild Lands and I controlled the iron mines, we held the balance of power. Boordin benefitted, but he was dependent on us.”
“Why didn’t he build a road to Eldenberg too,” Liliana asked. “Why force all the trade through Dalasport?”
“Because,” Zod said with a laugh, “the Council of Elders pissed him off. Before he conceived his grand plan to control the Wild Lands, Gothemus saw himself as president of the Council. But Lord Vestran was jealous of Gothemus’s magical prowess, and he didn’t like him. He manipulated the others to deny Gothemus a seat on the Council. Vestran went on to become president himself, and Gothemus never forgave him for poisoning his position with the Council. It would be a very different world today, I think, if Gothemus had become an Elder.
“Regardless, Eldenberg didn’t get a road, nor did it get a deal with Gothemus. He refused to allow them to trade directly with us. They had to get their iron from Dalasport or from other sources, and that cost a lot more.”
Zod fell silent. The rest of them contemplated his story.
“So,” Devon said at last, “the Council of Elders murdered Gothemus Draco both out of revenge for the slight and for the practical purpose of improving its trade position. And, if that’s true, Lord Vestran and the Council will want to gain possession of the Eye of the Dragon. Duke Boordin doesn’t have any magicians who could master it, but the Council – either collectively or perhaps just Lord Vestran – does.
“Once the Council of Elders controls the Eye, it can get its iron more cheaply as well as impose import tariffs on Duke Boordin that will weaken Dalasport. If you refuse to play along, they turn the Wild Lands against you.”
“Or they just order Sear to burn you and your forces to cinders and then place their own people in charge of the mining operation,” Calibot added. “That way, they can control both ends of the channel just like you and Father did.”
Zod looked depressed. The implications seemed to fall on him like a load of bricks.
“But there’s another problem,” Liliana said. “Elmanax wants the Eye of the Dragon back. So even if he was working with the Council of Elders and Lord Vicia to murder Gothemus—”
“He’ll turn on them as soon as they have the Eye!” Devon finished. “That works in our favor.”
“No, it doesn’t,” Calibot said.
“Why not?” Devon said.
“Because Elmanax’s revenge isn’t complete yet,” Calibot answered. “He may have killed Father for stealing the Eye and using its power to change the world, but he hasn’t yet killed the man who wounded him – Uncle Z
od. He wants the Eye of the Dragon back, but he also wants to avenge himself, and he’s only accomplished half of that goal.”
Zod nodded. He didn’t look as imposing now. The gravity of the situation had fallen fully on him. He might have thought of everything Calibot, Devon, and Liliana said, but, until Calibot stitched it all together for him, he didn’t grasp the enormity of what was at stake.
“We need to get into the tower,” Zod said.
“Why,” Devon asked.
“First,” Zod said, “because that’s where the Eye of the Dragon is kept. We can’t let it fall into anyone else’s hands.
“Second, because Gothemus was preparing a weapon for me – the dragon sword, Wyrmblade. He acquired it recently – I don’t know how – and was making modifications to it to make it more powerful. He’d been promising me for weeks he was almost done with it.
“We need some sort of an edge – some weapon with which I can defeat Elmanax – and Wyrmblade is it.”
Calibot felt both Devon and Liliana stiffen with worry. The three of them exchanged a glance, trying to determine what to do or say. Zod noticed.
“What?” he said.
“Uncle Zod,” Calibot said before anyone could stop him, “I have Wyrmblade.”
“What!” Zod shouted.
He jumped out of his seat and towered over Calibot, throwing an intimidating glare in his direction. Calibot returned it with a look of quiet indifference despite trembling inside.
Devon put his head in his hand, clearly disappointed Calibot had divulged the information. Calibot wished he could explain it, but he couldn’t. Once again, some instinct moved him to speak, and he did.
“When she came to tell me Father was dead, Liliana brought me the sword as well,” Calibot said, still uttering words he didn’t recognize as his.
“You little whore!” Zod spat, turning his glare in her direction. “He was crafting that sword for me! You had no right to steal it. Calibot, hand it over at once!”
Calibot said and did nothing for a moment. Liliana quailed before Zod, clearly terrified. Devon looked worried, his hand on his sword.
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