Rise of the Blood Royal dobas-3

by Robert Newcomb

  Tristan knew how much Abbey loved Wigg and that despite the wizard’s protests, Wigg secretly enjoyed the way she looked after him. TheJin’Sai respected her deeply. As he watched her pour a cup of hot tea for Wigg, he found himself hoping that she had laced it with one her esoteric stimulants. It had already been a long day, and like Wigg, he too could do with a bit of propping up.

  Next to Abbey sat Faegan, comfortably situated in his chair on wheels. Like Wigg he looked desperately tired. In his hands he held Nicodemus, his centuries-old dark blue cat, and his precious violin lay on the table before him. Nicodemus purred pleasantly as Faegan absentmindedly scratched the cat’s throat.

  The next seat was vacant, for it belonged to Sister Adrian. Then there was Traax. Like Tyranny, Traax seemed agitated. He too had been devastated when they had not been able to intercept the grotesque man-serpents. As Tristan looked at him, the warrior clenched his jaw and shifted in his seat, eager for the meeting to start. Traax respectfully nodded back at Tristan, his dark eyes reflecting a mixture of devout loyalty and his deep need to hunt the monsters that prowled Eutracia.

  Shailiha sat on Traax’s left. Clothed in a simple blue dress, she wore a string of freshwater Eutracian pearls, and two more hung from her earlobes. She regarded her brother affectionately. As was often the case during Conclave meetings, Caprice perched quietly atop the princess’s chair, gently folding and unfolding her butterfly wings to keep her balance. Tristan pointed at his medallion, then gave his sister a knowing smile. Shailiha nodded and smiled in return.

  Next to Shailiha sat Jessamay. Like the other mystics, the Vigors sorceress seemed tired. But Tristan knew that her fatigue came from her long hours of helping the Minions construct the new Black Ship cradles, rather than from conferring with her fellows in the craft.

  On Tristan’s immediate right sat Aeolus. The bald-headed mystic andK’Shari master sat peacefully, waiting for the meeting to start. He did not seem as tired as the other mystics. His years of martial training accounted for that, Tristan guessed.

  Seeing Aeolus reminded Tristan of something, and he instinctively looked down at one of his upper arms, then the other. Like Wigg and Aeolus, Tristan bore the dual tattoos of Aeolus’ martial schooling. And like Aeolus, Tristan commanded the gift ofK’Shari, allowing him to gain total calm during battle-a priceless advantage to any warrior. Tristan had gained the gift of forestallment, immediately granting his endowed blood expertise in hundreds of martial techniques, many of which he had yet to realize. Although Aeolus had been working with him to bring them to the fore, they believed that Tristan had only scratched the surface of what he might ultimately attain. To the best of Tristan’s knowledge, he and Aeolus were the only two people in the world who claimed the gift.

  Tristan again regarded his tattoos. One was that of a serpent, indicating hand-to-hand combat mastery. The other was a sword, attesting to expertise with various weapons. He was proud of those two marks, and he knew that they would be with him until the day he died.

  In the center of the table lay the Tome of the Paragon and the two Scrolls of the Ancients. The Scrolls were wound tight and secured at their centers with golden bands. Each relic still showed slight traces of azure subtle matter, reminding the prince of the other reason this meeting had been called. The rest of the room was littered with various scrolls and texts that had probably been taken from the still-disheveled Archives of the Redoubt and used in the mystics’ research.

  Curiously, Failee’s centuries-old red leather tooled grimoire sat atop the table as well. It had been some time since Tristan had seen it, and he had to admit that he had nearly forgotten about it. Taken from the depths of the Recluse, the book was said to contain many of Failee’s most secret spells, her private correspondence, and her personal memoirs. Tristan had no idea how much of the book Wigg had read, and out of respect for the wizard’s feelings he had never asked. Even so, the grimoire’s presence here today would surely serve some important purpose.

  Feeling a pinch in his back, Tristan realized that he was still wearing his weapons. Unbuckling his baldric and knife quiver, he placed them over the back of his chair. The fire in the hearth across the room burned and snapped pleasantly, its comforting flames and pleasant odor belying the wizards’ possibly dark pronouncements. Tyranny let go yet another lungful of smoke into the air; Jessamay poured herself a cup of Abbey’s strong, dark tea.

  Tristan looked first at Wigg, then at Faegan. “What have you learned?” he asked simply.

  After scrubbing his face with his hands, Wigg tiredly leaned forward and placed his forearms on the table. He took another sip of Abbey’s tea, then looked Tristan straight in the eyes.

  “There is so much to tell that we scarcely know where to start,” he said.

  “Better too much than too little,” Tristan answered. “I suggest that you start at the beginning, old friend.”

  Wigg nodded and sat back. “The terrible creatures that tortured and killed the people of Birmingham are called Blood Vipers,” he began. “Like the Swamp Shrews that once tormented Parthalon, they serve but one purpose-exacting revenge. The formula for their conjuring was perfected by Failee late in the Sorceresses’ War, when the defeat of the Coven was near. There are probably tens of thousands of Blood Vipers loose in Eutracia by this time. But unlike the leaderless Swamp Shrews, these creatures are commanded by a shrewd and cunning master. He is called the Viper Lord, and he will stop at nothing to wreak vengeance in Failee’s name. He commands the craft in the name of the Vagaries.”

  “With all due respect, how can you know this?” Shailiha asked skeptically. “Surely you did not unearth all this information simply by examining the creature and the six corpses that Tyranny brought home.”

  “No,” Wigg answered. “While Faegan was performing a necropsy on the blood viper, Aeolus, Abbey, and I searched the Tome and the Scrolls for information that might help us understand more. I soon wondered whether Failee’s grimoire might shed some light on the mystery. I was right. Despite how well I thought I knew Failee, what I found there shocked me. When these secrets were coupled with Faegan’s necropsy report, we had many of our answers. We then concentrated our efforts on researching the subtle matter and how we might cross the Azure Sea. Some of what we are about to tell you will seem incredible, but you must hear us out.”

  Intrigued, Tristan leaned forward. “Go on,” he said.

  “Failee’s formula to conjure the Blood Vipers was found in her grimoire,” Faegan answered. He paused to give Nicodemus another welcome scratch. “Even now we are just starting to understand how brilliant she was. Like the Swamp Shrews that she conjured to take revenge on innocent Parthalonians, she created the Blood Vipers to take revenge on Eutracians should she lose the Sorceresses’ War. It was a part of her failed scorched-earth policy. But in several ways this plan was even more diabolical.”

  “How so?” Shailiha asked.

  Faegan gave the princess a short smile. “The first difference should be obvious enough,” he answered. “Unlike the leaderless shrews that appeared soon after her death, here in Eutracia the Blood Vipers came alive only after lying dormant for more than three centuries-long after the war had ended. One day not long ago they arose, and with them came their lord. They quickly started exacting vengeance in Failee’s name, starting with the poor souls in Birmingham. Unless they are stopped, they might well kill every person in Eutracia.”

  Tristan rubbed his chin, thinking. “If the vipers and their lord were conjured by forestallment, there are two possibilities,” he said. “Either some act triggered their coming, or they were brought alive after a certain amount of time had passed. Which was it?”

  For the first time in several days, Wigg smiled. “Well done,” he said to Tristan. “It was an event-activated forestallment. At first we couldn’t be sure, but then I found something else in the grimoire that helped us deduce the answer.” Another look of sadness overcame the wizard. “That, plus a few personal recollections from the distan
t past that I’d rather forget,” he added softly.

  Wigg reached across the table and took the red grimoire into his hands. As he did a pained expression came over his face, as if he wished that his explanation could be handled some other way. Tristan saw that a slim golden bookmark had been inserted between two of the grimoire’s many gilt-edged pages. Wigg opened the book to the marked place, then ran a bony index finger down the two facing, wrinkled pages. After a time he found what he had been searching for, and he returned his attention to the group.

  “Here is the forestallment formula that she devised to conjure and later summon the serpents,” he said. “They were first conceived as embryonic beings, and she protected them with time enchantments so that they would not die as the years passed. These notes state that the embryos would be placed in a deep stream in Hartwick Wood. There they would lie in wait. The Viper Lord was also placed there, but in his already fully realized form. He too was protected by time enchantments.” Closing the book, Wigg looked around the table.

  “When some predetermined event finally occurred, the spell automatically took effect,” he added. “The Blood Vipers appeared and their master rose with them. The grimoire also states that the Viper Lord was once a fully realized Vagaries wizard who served Failee in the war. In her notes she reveals no qualms about morphing him against his will into some kind of cross between a human being and a serpent. He might look much like the many creatures he commands. This was supposedly done so that the Viper Lord and his servants would feel like kindred spirits, bonding them to each other. She would then condemn him to the river along with her embryonic vipers. The notes go on to say that the mission of the Blood Vipers and the Viper Lord would be to search out all right-leaning endowed blood and destroy it. The plan’s entire motive was vengeance, pure and simple.”

  Shailiha pursed her lips. “Much like the Blood Stalkers,” she murmured.

  “What was that?” Tristan asked.

  Shailiha looked into her brother’s eyes. “The Viper Lord is much like the Blood Stalkers that the Coven used during the Sorceresses’ War,” she answered. “The stalkers were morphed wizards, turned to Failee’s purposes. They became partly human and partly…something else. They could also detect endowed blood, and like the Viper Lord they were used to hunt down and kill the Coven’s enemies.” She turned to look at Faegan. “I’m right, am I not?” she asked.

  Faegan nodded. “But these new threats are even more dangerous,” he added. “We believe that the Blood Vipers already far outnumber the late Blood Stalker ranks. Worse, they are commanded by a wizard-one who probably still commands the craft.”

  “Does the grimoire reveal this wizard’s identity?” Tristan asked.

  Aeolus turned toward Tristan. “Despite the many myths that have grown up over time about the Sorceresses’ War, Failee had many wizards in her service,” he answered. “The Viper Lord might be any one of them.”

  “Why do the Blood Vipers-or perhaps their lord-remove the livers from their victims?” Traax asked. “That makes no sense.”

  Tristan watched as Faegan reached into a pocket of his robe to produce a small rectangle of glass. The prince soon realized that there were in fact two pieces, with something red sandwiched between them. Faegan placed it on the table.

  “I took this from between the teeth of the Blood Viper that Tyranny brought home,” Faegan said.

  “What is it?” Tyranny asked, taking another lungful of smoke and blowing it toward the ceiling.

  Wigg scowled and waived a hand in her direction. “Mustyou practice that foul habit here?” he demanded.

  Undaunted, Tyranny scowled right back at him. Clearly neither was in a mood to take orders from the other.

  “No,” she answered, “but I like it.” Taking another pull on the cigarillo, this time she blatantly exhaled the smoke through her nose.

  Wigg shook his head. “I’m too tired to argue about it,” he said. “Pollute yourself with that stuff if you must. But at least allow an old wizard to breathe some clean air while you do it.”

  Wigg raised one arm and the gathering fog quickly disappeared. Tristan correctly guessed that each time Tyranny exhaled more smoke the same thing would happen. It seemed that the two intractable Conclave members had found a compromise. Tristan glanced over at Shailiha and winked. The princess smiled back. As Faegan let go a muted cackle, Tyranny sighed and shook her head.

  Wigg cleared his throat. “That red bit taken from the Blood Viper’s mouth came from a human liver,” he continued. “It was no doubt part of one that was incised from one of the many Birmingham victims.” He paused for a moment as he looked around the table. “Not only is the Viper Lord impaling his victims, his servants and perhaps even he himself are eating the excised livers.”

  For several long moments the room was silent. Shailiha could scarcely believe her ears, and she fought back the urge to become ill. After taking a quick sip of tea, she looked aghast at Tristan to see that her brother was equally stunned. She gazed back at Wigg with wide eyes.

  “Butwhy?” she breathed.

  “I can answer that,” Jessamay said. “During the Sorceresses’ War many Vagaries practitioners believed that devouring the fresh liver of an endowed person immediately granted the eater greater power in the craft. This was never practiced among Vigors mystics, but it was common among our enemies. The Old Eutracian phrase for this selective form of cannibalism is known ascannabae carnetorus, or simplycarnetorus. Although the theory was never proved beyond a doubt, there is some lingering evidence indicating that it worked.”

  His mouth still agape, Tristan sat back in his chair. “I beg the Afterlife,” he said. “But why eat only the liver?”

  “Because the liver performs a unique function in the human body,” Faegan answered. “All one’s blood-be that blood endowed or unendowed-is filtered through it. The theory postulates that as this happens, certain aspects of endowed blood’s power are continually left behind and trapped there. The lost power is later regenerated as it courses through the bloodstream and is again exposed to the Paragon-or so goes the theory. Vagaries practitioners believed that if the liver was eaten raw, these filtered bits of errant power could be taken as one’s own. It logically follows that the higher the quality of the victim’s blood, the greater the purloined power will supposedly be.”

  Pausing for a moment, Faegan thoughtfully pulled on his beard. “In truth, the idea is not as far-fetched as it sounds,” he added quietly. “The entire notion of using the endowed blood of others for various reasons has teased both sides of the craft for centuries.”

  Tristan shook his head. “It’s monstrous,” he said softly.

  “Yes,” Aeolus replied. “Like so many Vagaries practices.”

  “Is it likely that the Viper Lord is also doing this?” Tyranny asked.

  “Perhaps,” Wigg answered. “But there is an even larger question that must be answered.”

  “And that is?” Jessamay asked.

  “Whether the Viper Lord knows that Failee is dead,” Wigg answered. “If he has somehow been informed, then what becomes of his mission? And if not, will he continue to ravage Eutracia in an effort to continue her revenge? My guess is that he will, because that is what Failee would have wanted. Only a Vagaries mystic of far greater power might induce him to stop. And as far as we know, no such persons remain on this side of the world.”

  Tristan reached out to pour a cup of tea. As he sipped it he could sense its stimulating effects take hold almost immediately. He nodded his appreciation to Abbey; the herbmistress nodded back.

  Tristan put down his teacup. “Two things still need clarification,” he said. “First, is there a spell of reversal in Failee’s grimoire that might help us deal magically with these monsters and their lord? And second, do you have any idea what act initiated the forestallment allowing them to rise from the river?”

  “The grimoire contains no reversal spell,” Faegan answered sadly.

  “And what act triggered th
e forestallment?” Abbey asked.

  Wigg again reached out to take up the grimoire. It is such a small book when compared to the Tome, Tristan thought. But its secrets can loom equally large. He watched Wigg open the book to another page beyond where the golden bookmark lay. Wigg placed the opened book onto the table, then beckoned everyone to view its pages.

  Tristan leaned forward and saw that the pages were written in green ink. He had seen the book only briefly when he, Wigg, and his late wife, Celeste, had first found it deep in the bowels of the Recluse, the Coven’s onetime stronghold in Parthalon. Seeing it again reminded him of Failee’s elegant handwriting. These pages held only handwritten text, seeming to suggest that Wigg had opened the book to the section that held the First Mistress’s private memoirs.

  Tristan again looked at the First Wizard’s face and saw that the sadness had returned. Despite Failee’s madness and her devotion to the Vagaries, Wigg had once loved her with all his heart. How much pain had it caused him, Tristan wondered, to have read these pages and to relive even so few moments from those terrible, heart-wrenching days?

  Gathering himself up, Wigg pointed to a paragraph on the left-hand page. He cleared his throat.

  “I will place the viper embryos and their morphed lord into a river flowing through Hartwick Wood,” he quoted from the grimoire.“And toward that river I will try and draw the bulk of the Directorate’s forces. That is where I and my sisters will make our final stand. Should we lose and the river run red with Vagaries blood, I will know that I have failed. Then and only then will the Blood Vipers and the Viper Lord arise to take vengeance in my stead.”

  “What does it mean?” Traax asked.

  “Hartwick Wood was where Failee wanted to start her final push toward victory,” Aeolus answered. “She needed the dense cover that the woods provide, and now we know that this other part of her plan was why she chose that place as well. But the Directorate didn’t take the bait. We chose to meet her out in the open on the fields of Farplain. It would prove to be the largest battle of the war, and we won the day. Even so, it was not the final conflict.”