“I don’t know what the two of you had planned on bringing along on your escape, but I have taken the liberty of packing some supplies, food from the kitchen, etcetera. I also have included a map. I’m not sure of the exact location of Master Coal, but the last information I had said that he had built a small keep for himself in a forest just outside of Dremaldria in the kingdom of Razbeck.
“I have marked the suggested route there, but once you get into Razbeck, the way gets hazy. You will have to ask around.” The wizard looked at the two companions and the rogue horse that was sniffing the proffered pack with interest. “Is all understood?”
Neither of them could think of any questions. Gwyrtha was tugging on a corner of the pack with her sharp teeth and Justan had to take it from her so that she didn’t damage it.
“Very well,” Valtrek pronounced. He pulled Qyxal with him to the two nearest stalls and together they began saddling Albert and Stanza, the two horses that had accompanied the caravan when Justan had come to the school.
“But Master, I don’t need a horse,” Justan said. “Gwyrtha is happy to carry me.”
“Obviously, I assumed as much,” Valtrek said. “But we are not finished. Come with me to the gate, and we will meet up with the last member of your group.”
The two students exchanged puzzled glances, but they remained silent. They left the stables with the two horses in tow and moved toward the front gates of the school. Valtrek led them away from the dormitories and occupied buildings as much as possible. As they padded silently among the walking paths by the outer wall, a figure rose up out of the darkness in front of them.
“Aha! I knew it!” Pympol shouted. “I'm te-!” Gwyrtha threw him to the ground with one swipe of her claws and snapped her jaws shut an inch from his face, growling deeply. Justan instantly recognized that she knew the man from the party that had captured her.
The ex-mage's whimpering ended quickly. Valtrek smacked him on the top of the head with his staff, casting a sleep spell. Gwyrtha sniffed the sleeping student briefly before tearing a tuft of grass from beside his head and chewing it contentedly.
“What was he doing out here?” Justan wondered.
“I don’t know what he was trying to accomplish out here tonight.” Valtrek checked Pympol to make sure that Gwyrtha hadn’t hurt him too badly. “He will be fine. I’ll come back for him later. Don’t worry, when I am finished with him, he won’t feel like talking to anyone about what he saw.”
When they arrived at the front gate, the portcullis was up and a lone guard leaned against the wall. He was fully armed and had a travel sack slung over his shoulder.
“Zambon?” Justan was surprised to see his friend.
The academy graduate simply nodded and began tying his sack to Albert’s saddle.
“Listen to me, both of you.” Valtrek motioned to Qyxal and placed a hand on Justan’s shoulder. “This is Edge’s quest, but the two of you have been pretty isolated here at the school. We do that on purpose so that the students will be able to concentrate on developing their talents. A lot has changed in the world over the last year. I am sure that Zambon has heard some of it as the guards have come and gone. I ask you to listen to him because he is better equipped to deal with what is going on out there. Understood?” The two students nodded.
“Thank you, sir,” Qyxal said. “Please let my clan know of the situation.” He mounted Stanza and trotted up to Zambon, who had already started down the road.
Ride, Gwyrtha said, nudging his side.
One moment. He had one last question before they left.
“Goodbye, Master Valtrek.” Justan shook the wizard’s hand in farewell. “Thank you for what you’ve done.”
“No thanks are necessary.”
“But why are you helping me? Why did you do any of this?”
The wizard smiled. “Suffice it to say that I had a debt to repay.”
Justan was even more curious now, but Valtrek wasn't offering to explain further, so with a nod, Justan and Gwyrtha sped away from the wizard to catch up to their new companions. Justan felt better than he had in a long time. Gwyrtha was happy, he was traveling out on a new adventure with good friends, and he had once again found his purpose. He had a new goal. It didn’t really matter if he was a wizard or a warrior or both. He needed to become the best that he could be. He would live up to his new name.
The night waned and morning neared but Piledon still couldn’t sleep. He stared at the shadows on the wall by his bed and agonized over his situation. There was something bad going on inside the school, something he had unwittingly become a part of. The things he knew weighed so heavily on his mind that he couldn’t keep it to himself. He had to tell someone the truth. But who?
Perhaps Justan was right. Perhaps Professor Beehn would understand, but he was reluctant to bring it up. The portly professor still seemed angry at him because of the part he had played with the golem incident and he didn’t know the least of it. Piledon gritted his teeth.
It didn’t matter what the professor thought, he would tell him anyway. He would do it in the morning. It was the only way he could live with himself. He rolled onto his stomach and closed his eyes tighter, praying that sleep would finally come.
Just as sleep started to creep in, he felt something pressing in on the back of his mind. It was that voice again. He used every bit of mental strength he had to push it away. He didn’t want to hear her mad ramblings anymore. Besides, what if she heard his thoughts? What if she heard his plans?
The door to the room creaked open again. Was Justan back? He turned over and froze at the sight of who was in the doorway.
“So Piledon, you have been looking nervous lately,” the student said and closed the door.
“I-I don’t know what you mean? W-what are you doing here anyway? If you were caught in here at this time of night, what would they think?” Piledon stammered.
“I would get a stern warning for being in your room after curfew. No one has reason to suspect anything else, now do they?”
“No, I-I guess not. What do you want anyway? Make it quick. Justan could be back here any minute. If anyone would think it strange for you to be here, he would.”
The student stepped closer. “Don’t worry about that. I saw Justan leave the school tonight. It looks like Professor Valtrek has sent him away for some reason.”
Piledon didn’t like that one bit. The fact that he shared a room with Justan was the only thing that made him feel safe at night anymore, but he didn’t let the student know that. “Oh, well good. Finally I have my room to myself. So what do you want?”
“With Justan gone, I thought it was the perfect time to ask you some questions.”
“O-okay, sure. What do you want to know?”
The student pulled a small wrinkled sphere from the pocket of its robes. It glowed weakly. At the sight of the moonrat eye, Piledon began to shiver again. “Why don’t you have your treasure on you, Piledon? Where is it? Why don’t you keep it on you like she asks?”
He pointed a shaking finger at a pile of clothes in the corner. “It’s in my other robe. I guess I forgot it a few times. I’ll remember next time.”
“Will you?”
The student rushed forward and leapt on top of Piledon, pressing the eye against his forehead. Piledon struggled at first, but something sucked all the rebelliousness out of him. The pressure on the back of his mind returned and this time he could not resist. The voice burst through, searching his mind until it found what it was looking for.
Piledon’s eyes went wide. She knew.
He opened his mouth to scream for help, but the student on top of him shoved the eye in his mouth and clamped its hand over his face so that he couldn’t spit it out. The eye moved in his mouth like it was alive. It had an oddly sweet flavor.
“Now you have to listen to my call,” said the sultry female voice. The sound echoed through the bones of his skull. “You have been a bad servant haven’t you? You were planning to tell them abou
t me.”
Piledon wanted to shout in denial, but all that came out was a muffled grunt. The hand over his mouth moved slightly, covering his nose as well. He couldn’t breathe.
“Do not worry,” she purred. “I forgive you dear boy. There is still something you can do to further my work.” The student heard the call of its master and pulled out a ceremonial knife with its free hand.
Piledon barely felt the blade pierce his flesh. As his thoughts faded, he heard the voice laugh.
“Die for me.”
Chapter Twenty Two
Duke Ewzad Vriil leaned back into the deep cushions of his new throne and smiled down at the angry captain of the guards that knelt before him. Absently, he caressed the gold inlaid box beside him as the tension stretched out. The guard wouldn't dare speak until the Duke recognized him.
It wasn’t that the captain feared him. None of the king’s men did. Ewzad knew that they despised him. He had come from a low noble family after all. But they had been trained to follow protocol and that meant treating the duke with respect.
Ewzad let the silence linger a bit longer. He really didn’t want to speak to the captain at all, but he had been putting it off for days already. Soon the man would bring his worries to the attention of the king and Ewzad didn’t want to have to explain his actions to Andre once again. Since he had to put up with the captain’s presence, Ewzad sat and enjoyed watching the sweat drip from the kneeling man’s forehead.
Ewzad had been angry when King Andre insisted upon sending these soldiers to help him develop his part of the kingdom. These men were no good to him. They were too loyal to the old ideals of Dremaldria.
King Andre had assured him that these soldiers were a gift, but the Duke knew that these men were really just the king’s way to remind him that, even with his new power, he was still subject to the crown. Ewzad also suspected that they doubled as spies to keep an eye on him. Andre was weak and without Ewzad’s constant presence the king’s other advisors were gaining too much of his ear. The Duke frowned. He was going to have to do something about the king’s other advisors soon.
Finally Ewzad broke the silence. “Come-come Demetrius. Stand please. It must be awkward kneeling in that position. I am sorry, but I am afraid that I haven't gotten around to ordering the rug for the throne room floor.” Not that he ever would. Ewzad enjoyed the discomfort of his servants. He had ordered the rough-hewn finish of the rock floor for just that reason.
“Sir, there is a concern among my men.”
“Oh? My, and what might that be, Captain?” the Duke asked through gritted teeth.
“Well, sir, ever since the construction on the keep’s dungeons was completed, the cells have been overflowing with prisoners.”
“Yes, yes. And that is why I have ordered another complete set of dungeons to hold the extra riffraff.” The captain winced and Ewzad crooned, “Worry not, Demetrius. No one who dares to mock the laws of our king shall go unpunished! No they won’t!”
“Of course, sir, it’s just the way that they are punished that concerns me.”
“Oh dear! Whatever do you mean?”
“Well, our barracks are right by the new dungeons, and my men can’t sleep at night with all the screaming.”
“Screaming? Hmm . . .Well, it is a dungeon, you know. They aren’t exactly supposed to be pleasant. Do you wish to have your barracks moved so that you men can have more quiet?”
“But it’s not normal screaming sir. They are screams of torture and pain. And it’s not just that. My men say that some of the workers have seen body parts thrown to the dogs, and the dungeon keepers, well they just don’t seem human.”
“Torture?” Ewzad feigned horror at the suggestion. He needed to tell his torture masters to be more inconspicuous. “Why, how awful! I never ordered such atrocities!”
“Of course not, sir. We knew that the king’s good friend would never let such things go on.” Ewzad could see that the captain of the guard didn’t believe him. A sense of righteous indignation showed in the man’s features. “That is why I am here. I know that this is not our regular area of responsibility, but we recommend that whomever you have put in charge of the dungeons, be dealt with. That kind of conduct is inexcusable and if word ever got out to the populous, we could have revolt. The king would not be pleased.”
The man had just threatened him! How dare he? Ewzad wanted to open the artifact and make the man’s head explode, but he forced his anger down.
“I shall put a stop to this at once, captain. Thank you for bringing it to my attention. I shall go down there and visit the dungeons myself.”
“I would like to volunteer to accompany you sir. It would ease my men’s minds if I could tell them myself.” It was clear from the captain’s expression that he didn’t expect the duke to cooperate.
Ewzad clenched the gold inlaid box on his lap with such force that his knuckles were white. The king’s soldiers were now beyond being a simple nuisance. Oh, how the rings called to him, but he had a better way of going about it. Ewzad always knew that he would have to get rid of the guards at some point. It was a bit soon for his liking, but they had forced his hand.
“That would be perfect, Captain Demetrius.” Ewzad sent a mental command to his servant outside of the throne room. “Yes, I would prefer to have you along, actually.”
The Duke’s unexpected response jolted the guard and he relaxed a bit. A knock sounded at the door and the Duke’s servant entered. His name was Rudfen, a large heavily muscled man with several distinctive scars running across his face.
“I have an urgent message for you, sir!” Ridfen said and ran across the throne room to hand the Duke a piece of parchment. After the Duke took it from his grasp, the large man moved to the side and stood with his hands clasped in front of him, eyes staring vacantly off into space.
“Thank you, Rudfen.” Ewzad pretended to read the blank piece of parchment. “Oh! Dear-dear. . .” He looked back at the captain with concern. “I am afraid that I may have spoken to soon, Demetrius. This is a note from the northern border of my territory just below the edge of the TrafalganMountains. There seems to be a group of goblinoids amassing there.”
“Goblinoids, sir?” Demetrius frowned. Ewzad knew that the captain hated the things. His garrison had been ambushed by a hundred of the beasts on their way to the new Duke’s holdings. That day the captain had lost twenty men. That was also the day that Ewzad had lost a hundred goblinoids.
“Oh yes, I’m afraid so,” Ewzad said. “Yes, the report says that there may be more than forty of the filthy creatures in this bunch. I need to send a strong contingent of warriors to destroy the beasts. Unfortunately, my own army is still quite green and I need to send a message of strength out to the people to give them confidence, don’t you think, Dear Captain?” The Duke leaned forward expectantly.
“My men are available,” the captain said. “Any chance to kill goblinoids is a welcome one.”
“Hmm, yes. Very well then. I need you to gather your troops and go out at once. I will send you more detailed instructions when you have your men ready. That is . . . if you think your men capable of handling such a mission.”
“Yes, sir!” The captain bowed.
“Ah, good-good, and Demetrius? Don’t worry about the dungeons. I will take care of the situation right away.”
Reluctantly, the captain nodded and strode out of the throne room. The moment the door shut behind the man, Ewzad Vriil opened the box that he kept so near to himself.
“The fool,” he muttered. “What will he do when he finds not two score but two hundred of the beasts? Ooh, perhaps I can be there to see it. Yes-yes, I think I will!”
With greed, the Duke pulled a red velvet bag from within the box and opened it into his hand. Out poured ten small rings linked together with golden chains in sets of five. Each one was a gold band with a different color stone set into it. Ewzad shuddered in anticipation.
They were the Rings of Stardeon. It had taken Ewzad Vriil
a long time to master the powers of the rings, but it was well worth it. In the three years since, he had been very busy building his army of monsters and wedging himself into a place of influence in the kingdom. If King Andre only knew the truth, he would die of fright.
His lips quivering with pleasure, Ewzad Vriil slipped the rings on. As each ring moved over the second knuckle, the finger began to writhe bonelessly back and forth like a snake. After the last ring went on over his right thumb, Ewzad felt the energy soar through him. At the same time, he felt his body change. Ewzad’s cheeks sunk in and his body lost muscle tone until his normally healthy body looked frail.
The power of the rings came with a price, and the physical changes were just part of it. Because of the physical changes, Ewzad could not wear the rings in public. At least, not yet. But the power was so addictive that he couldn’t bear to be without them for long.
Messenger of the Dark Prophet (The Bowl of Souls: Book Two) Page 24
