“I got there too late,” he said quietly. “The demon had already killed the emperor.”
“Bracconius is dead!?!” Harrel exclaimed.
Esselles nodded. The others stood in shocked silence.
Finally, Harrel asked, “So how did you get here?”
“I followed the demon through its magic portal. I was able to kill it, but eventually ended up in the demon’s home world. My only way to get back was to work with Renamir, the same guy who had captured me in the first place and who had substituted the demon in my place. But as we were coming back from the demon home world, he tricked me and left me alone in the magical bubble with the demon.”
“Wait,” Harrel interrupted. “I thought you said you killed the demon.”
“Sorry. Different demon. We were using this one to get back. Anyway, I managed to kill him too but in doing so, popped the magical bubble before it had reached the ground. I was spit out over the ocean and forced to swim to shore.”
“Amazing. You must be exhausted,” Harrel said.
“And then some,” Esselles said with a crooked smile.
“Well, feel free to stretch out. Even though we’ve got nearly everyone working, we can excuse you.”
“Thanks,” Esselles said. As he turned to head to the back room, he noticed a small wolf pup curled near the warmth of the fire.
“How’s the little critter doing?” he asked.
“Quite well,” Sylia answered. “He’s gotten a lot stronger since we’ve been feeding him. And he’s lost what little fear he had of us.”
Esselles walked towards the pup. As he knelt down near it he could feel its curiosity. “She sure is a curious pup,” he said. The puppy gave him a confused look. “It’s okay,” he whispered to her, mentally sending a calm emotion down the remnants of Renamir’s spell. The pup nuzzled against him and Esselles picked her up.
“She seems to like you,” Sylia said.
Esselles continued to send soothing thoughts. “I seem to like her too,” he said with a smile. He carried her into the back room and petted her as he stretched out onto the bed. He was soon asleep, the pup curled by his side.
*
“It should work in theory, milord,” the young mage was saying. However, Balderon barely heard him. He was running down the idea in his head, trying to determine if the idea would work in practice.
The idea was so simple, it was brilliant. It was not an elegant solution, for it required expending a lot of energy, but it was simple and expedient, two important considerations right now.
The sword was designed to respond to a particular magical intonation and upon hearing it, send out a homing signal. That signal would, under normal conditions, reflect off Bracconius’ matching wristband and between the two signals, the sword would hone in on Bracconius’ location.
The problem was the range of the homing signal is limited as is the distance at which a magical intonation can be detected. As they fade with distance, if the sword were far away, the intonation would have to be extremely powerful. But even if the sword could detect the intonation, the mages would never be able to detect its return signal.
This was where Sutaferos’ idea excelled. They would cast out a magical probe and down this probe, send the intonation. It would radiate from the probe and hopefully reach the sword. The sword would then send out its homing signal. If the probe were constructed properly, the signal would create a disturbance. While there would be countless disturbances in the probe, few would occur at the regular intervals that the homing signal sends out. And that would establish the direction and rough distance of the sword. Once that was established, they could go to that area and do it again and get a better reading. Eventually they would be close enough to pinpoint the sword and either go to it or call the sword to them.
“Your idea has a great deal of merit,” Balderon said, finally. Sutaferos’ eyes lit up with anticipation. “I believe we shall try it this afternoon,” Balderon said. “Gather the masters and have them meet me in the main hall. We shall open the roof and cast from there.”
Sutaferos hesitated a moment, causing Balderon to smile. He waved his hand, unleashing a small amount of mana and weaving it into a pattern on his young apprentice’s chest. “There. They will read my signal and know the command came from me.”
“Thank you, milord,” Sutaferos said. He stood up and straightened his tunic. “I will gather them at once.”
Balderon waited until he had left the room, then walked over to a concealed panel along the south side of his office. He pressed a hidden catch and the panel popped open, revealing a series of metallic buttons. He pressed his finger to the appropriate button and cast a spell into it.
Lord Mage Balderon calling for his highness, he projected through the spell.
Though the magic could not penetrate the castle’s protection spell directly, Balderon had buried earthmetal cables in the ground that ran through the weave of the protection spell. Any spells sent down the cables could thus reach inside the castle. Unfortunately, the manufacture of the cables was very complicated and extremely expensive as the metals were so rare. The current cables were thin and of such low grade that only the simplest of spells could be sent through. Every time he used the cables, he reminded himself that he needed to improve on the system, both in terms of more efficient ways of forming the cables and in installing them into the ground.
What is it my friend? came the response down the wire.
We believe we have a means of locating your sword, he informed the emperor. We shall make the attempt at noon.
You will have to inform me of the results, Bracconius replied. I am meeting an emissary from Manhindland.
You know, you were a lot more fun when you were just an insignificant fighter challenging a marhagrave for the leadership of his clan. He hoped his smile could be read in his mental message.
Don’t I know it? Bracconius answered. It seems like a century since that day of the marlee. Perhaps things would have been better had I lost.
I don’t know, Balderon said. I think Doma would have killed you had you lost. I don’t think he was too impressed by the fact that a non-Uranthian was challenging for the leadership of his Tairn.
You are as right as always, Bracconius said with a mental sigh. Still, what I wouldn’t do at times to unburden myself of the leadership of the nation and just return to being a father and a warrior.
You know, Balderon suggested, once your little girl is married off, you could retire.
I just might do that, the emperor said. I just might do that.
Take care, Balderon said, preparing to break the connection.
And you, Bracconius replied.
Balderon severed the connection.
*
Malicar waited until his horse was beyond view of the small cottages on the outskirts of Ostar before opening a gate to his tower. While he was sure there were those who know of his arcane skills, he preferred to keep them as secret as possible. He opened the portal and walked the horse through. Suddenly, he was in his courtyard. He startled the guards at the gate and they scurried to action in fear of retribution for failing to stay alert on their watch. Normally, their fear would be quite justified, but on this evening Malicar did not lash out at them for their shortcomings. He was much too pleased with his accomplishments at the conclave.
He handed them the horse and walked up the stairs to his tower. His guards snapped to attention as he walked by but he ignored them and headed straight through the back of his throne room, up the stairs and to his study. Waiting inside was Renamir. He had not expected him there but was quite happy to see him.
“It worked to perfection,” Malicar crowed.
“You are now in possession of Toliver’s lands?” Renamir asked.
“Yes. All of them. Bracconius gave that little bitch bride-to-be of his the family residence, and a small income, but I have the lands and the majority of its income, plus, full rights to the mines now.” He smiled, but then tugged at his
neck and a grimace crossed his face. “One moment while I get out of this body,” he said.
He walked into his lab area and over to the obelisk. Sitting in a chair not too far from the obelisk was himself, slumped in the chair, arms limp on the arms of the chair. The lines of force from the obelisk to his body were so strong they were visible to the naked eye, although faintly, especially when compared to their brightness in the magical spectrum.
Malicar walked over to the obelisk and stroked its smooth surface, drawing forth a few more lines of power. “Come over here and catch the body,” he said to Renamir, who did as he was instructed. With a few more manipulations of the obelisk, Malicar rolled his eyes back up into his head and a pulse of light shot down the force line from his current body, into the obelisk, and out the force line to his normal body. Renamir caught the slumping form, which Malicar had returned in, and watched as Malicar’s normal body went rigid. After a few seconds, the body relaxed and Malicar climbed up out of the chair.
“Ah, much better,” he said, flexing his arms and adjusting the sleeves of the long robes he always wore. Two servants entered the room. “Take him back up to his cell. Be sure he gets plenty of food and rest,” he said. The servants took the slack body from Renamir and carried him away.
“You know, I’m going to have to take that wife of his so he can produce an heir. I wouldn’t want to end up like Toliver,” Malicar said, letting out a quiet maniacal chuckle.
Renamir smiled back at him. “I didn’t know you kept his wife alive.”
“You never know when we might need her. But seriously, he is getting up in age. We will definitely have to find a young boy that looks like him so I can present him as my heir. You could possess the boy when I present him.”
“It would be an honor,” Renamir said, bowing his head slightly.
“So, tell me about the combat. And spare no detail.”
Renamir proceeded to do so, beginning with the capture of Esselles and ending with his dropping out of the bubble. “I wish I could have seen his face when he was trapped with the demon in the bubble heading for the bottom of the ocean,” he said with a smile.
“Everything has wrapped up so nicely,” Malicar said. “Hawkblood killed the demon for us, you left him stranded in an ethereal pocket with a pissed off demon, either to be killed by the demon or drowned in the ocean, and they think Hawkblood was involved, working with an ally of Malustreure for revenge.”
“Funny that,” Renamir said with a sly smile.
“It is, isn’t it?” Malicar commented. While not exactly an ally of Malustreure, he had covertly assisted his forces in the wars. But revenge had not entered into his motives. His alliance with Malustreure had been strictly for his own gains. He helped Malustreure’s forces overrun a number of the keeps in this area, this one included. After taking up residence, he kept the old lord and his wife alive and went to work on connecting to the ancient power source beneath the keep. Later in the war, he was instrumental in beating back Malustreure’s forces, and he was able to parlay that assistance into a barony, taking the name Lord Malik. Of course, the baron-to-be wasn’t quite himself as Malicar had taken over his body back then as he had today.
Years later, after he had discovered a vein of earthmetal in the ridge between his and Toliver’s lands, he began to concoct a scheme to gain full possession of the ridge. Today, the plans had finally come to fruition.
The only thing that worried him about all of it was that Kurich Dahle had promised to repay his betrayal. But so far, no repayment had come. He fully realized it might come someday, but now, with access to earthmetal, he might be better prepared to defend himself. And of course, Tyris Ostar would unwittingly come to his aid should Dahle ever show up, which he found rather ironic considering he had sided with Malustreure and Dahle against Ostar in the first place.
*
The patterns of the disturbances had been carved into a large wax tablet – the larger the disturbance, the deeper the pit. Sutaferos had originally wanted to compose a spell to record the disturbances automatically, but Balderon said otherwise. “Why do with magic what can more easily be done by hand?” he had asked.
There were a few major disturbances, all fully expected and easily explained. The Emperor’s castle, Balderon’s School of Magic, the lighthouse, the arena – all of those structures contained powerful magical constructs that affected the spell.
In addition to those disturbances, there were four points of interest. The three strongest had already been checked out and proved negative. A few of the masters were checking the fourth, but Balderon was sure it too would prove negative. The pattern did not react quite right.
A fifth pattern had reacted closer to the proper fashion, but was much too weak and much too muddled to be the correct signal. Balderon puzzled what could cause the signal to be muddled upon transmission. It appeared to be about ninety feet from the sweep of the probe, but as the probe was swept about fifty feet from the ground, that didn’t make sense. Unless it was buried, he concluded.
He decided to check it out himself instead of waiting for the other masters to return. When he extended his consciousness and saw ocean below he said aloud, “Or underwater.”
“Excuse me, sir?” Sutaferos asked.
“The signal is being muddled by the water,” Balderon explained. He opened a pinhole gate to the location and cast an intonation through. A faint, garbled response came up from the depths of the water. He boosted his intonation in response to the homing signal and began to imitate the response of Bracconius’ bracelet. In a few seconds, the signals grew stronger and clearer. With a splash, the sword shot up out of the ocean, catching the sunlight as it streaked toward Balderon’s portal. He widened his gate and reached through to pluck the sword from the air.
It was covered with a few specimens of sea life, but was otherwise untarnished. Its rare earthmetals and magical enchantments had kept it from corroding in the ocean’s waters.
“Does this mean Hawkblood drowned?” Sutaferos asked.
“Let’s have a look,” Balderon said. He extended his consciousness through the gate and into the depths of the ocean. Reaching the bottom, he scanned the ocean floor for the remains of the soldier, but could not find any. He located the magical residue left behind by the sword but there was no evidence that Hawkblood’s body had ever been nearby. He searched down current but still found no sign his body had ever been there.
“Yet another search comes up empty,” Balderon said upon returning his consciousness to his body.
*
“Why’d you do it?” Tarra asked as she woke Esselles. “Why’d you do it?”
Esselles looked at her in confusion. “What?”
“Why’d you attack the emperor?” she asked.
“I didn’t attack him,” he said. “I tried to defend him.” The pup became agitated. He sent it calming thoughts. He looked back up at Tarra. “I got there too late to save him.”
“What do you mean?” she asked.
“I didn’t get there in time. The demon had killed Bracconius before—”
“No, he didn’t,” Tarra interrupted.
“What?!” Esselles asked, wide-eyed.
“I said, ‘No, he didn’t.’ Bracconius survived.”
Esselles set the pup down and hugged Tarra. “That’s great news,” he said.
“You thought he was dead?” she asked.
“Yes. He was lying in a pool of his own blood when I saw him.”
“You know everyone’s looking for you,” she told him.
“They must think I was involved,” he said, sitting back down on the edge of the bed.
“Why’d you run away?”
“I thought Rigalli Clyne was going to kill me. So I dove through the magic portal the demon had left through. Then, after I killed the demon, I saw Renamir dive through another magic portal. He’s the one who had captured me in the first place. So I followed him. Only I eventually ended up in the demon’s home world.”
&nb
sp; “How’d you get back here?” she asked.
Esselles explained about his trip back through the portal.
“So what happened to Renamir?” Harrel asked.
“I assume he went to find Malicar.”
“Who’s Malicar?” Tarra asked.
“He’s the person behind all of this, from what I’ve been able to gather. I think I saw his keep as we were traveling back from the demon’s home world. It is to the northwest of Bracken Woods, on an outcropping of rock in the mountains that form the upper plateau,” Esselles said.
“Was there a fissure in front, with a drawbridge over it? And four towers on the main castle?” Harrel asked. Esselles nodded yes to each question. “That sounds like Lord Malik’s keep.”
“Lord Malik and Malicar…one and the same?” Esselles asked.
“It certainly sounds too coincidental to be otherwise,” Harrel agreed.
“Well, there’s one way to find out,” Esselles said.
Chapter Twenty-three
Esselles stopped on the moonlit gravel path to adjust the wooden club across his back. He looked up at the night sky, once more thankful for its familiarity. He also wondered whether he would see too many more. He knew he was embarking on a stupid mission – to find and capture or kill Renamir himself and possibly Malicar as well. But cold logic could not cool his hot blood. He had just too many scores to settle with Renamir. Harrel and Jorgan had offered their assistance, but they were not warriors. He could not ask them to risk their lives, nor neglect their harvest.
He felt something brush his leg and he looked down. Staring wide-eyed at him was the wolf pup.
“What are you doing out here?” he whispered.
“I had a feeling you would try to slip away tonight.”
The voice behind him startled him, causing him to jump. When he landed, he turned around to look at Tarra. “And?” he prompted.
“And I want you to take me with you,” she answered.
“Are you serious?” he asked. “Tarra, these people are killers. They’ve already attacked and killed barons. They employ magical means. For all I know, they have more demons back at Malicar’s keep.”
Demonified (Hawkblood Chronicles Book 1) Page 26
