Zachery had a puzzled look on his face. "Why are you speaking this way? Tell us what you know. How do we protect the child?" Zachery expected King Gabriel to confront the old man when he noticed the king wasn't moving. No one moved. No sounds, not even the insects on the floor moved.
All were frozen in place. One of the pub servers was in mid fall, mugs of ale suspended in air.
Zachery turned back to the old man again, who was inches away from his face. "You hold the key; you will soon see. The champion will grow, but no one here will know."
The boy stumbled backward over his stool. "I hold the key? How... How am I important? I'm just a farm boy!"
"Everyone is more than they are. A farm boy can soar to the stars."
In an instant, the old man once again was gone in a burst of flames. This time he didn't leave his body, just a smoke ring that floated aimlessly out the window.
The tavern sounds came back and all was normal. The poor pub server hit the floor with a thud as ale splashed around her. The dwarves loved it. A burst of laughter arose.
"Did you see him?" Zachery asked. "He was just here!"
King Gabriel grabbed Zachery, and sat him down, "Quiet, boy! Do not draw attention to us. We do not need eyes upon us at this time."
Zachery pleaded with Gabriel, quietly this time. "The old man was here. He spoke more of the prophecy."
Gabriel moved his hand downward, indicating, not now. "We will speak of this later."
Once they gave the food to the others and returned to their room, Zachery told them what the old man had said this time.
"You hold the key to what?" asked Antoine.
Zachery shrugged his shoulders with no words for him.
Natallia asked, "The main question is how my child will grow with no one here knowing? No one? Does this mean us also?"
Again, Zachey was at a loss for words.
Plenty of questions arose from the old man's last visit. Everyone hoped Benzoete had the answers.
It made me uneasy that I seemed to be the only one getting these visits from the old man. I thought I was going insane. I did not understand what importance my role was going to be to this group. I now held the key to success? I needed answers, fast.
BEFORE THEY LEFT BRONZE Valley, King Gabriel purchased a sword that none had believed existed. It was rumored that Bainebeard, the blacksmith, had a blade crafted by one of the original kings. This sword was forged by an ancient dwarf named Ferralloy. He called it, “Fuascailte,” which translated into Redemption. The sword was said to be forged from scales of a dragon; the most feared, most devastating, fierce dragons of ancient times. The scales came from Fraener, a dragon that was once a Dwarf-king, leader of the Iron Army. Fraener was transformed by greed and terrorized the people. They would forfeit all their treasure and wealth or lose their lives.
Ferralloy defeated the dragon, and as it lay at the steps of doom, Fraener once more was a dwarf. Fraener asked Ferralloy to help him receive salvation for his sins against this world. Ferralloy found four scales of the former dragon lying under the fallen dwarf leader. They were as hard and sharp as the beast's own teeth. Ferralloy forged the sword from the scales using a method said to be used by the Gods. He then had it blessed by a holy high priestess, enchanting it with holy powers. Ferralloy used the blade to destroy mountain crags. A vile, disgusting, and evil assemblage of creatures, born from the belly of darkness. An experiment gone wrong by dwarven chemists seeking a way to mine treasure faster.
Ferralloy was chosen to be the dwarven king after defeating Fraener and his bravery against the mountain crags. He forged the Iron Army into a fierce war machine. Legend states if the blade is used against evil, it would never break or dull, thus giving Fraener his redemption and a chance to meet his Gods in the afterlife.
After all the things that have been witnessed lately, Zachery thought that sounded reasonable. King Gabriel said he thought a blade like this would come in handy against a demon, and for the price he paid for it, it better.
"What happened to all the other dwarves?" Zachery asked. "Why are there so few here in the valley?"
Gabriel gazed into the distance. "They, like the elves, lost faith in humanity and set themselves apart from the rest of the world. They keep to the mountains and do not let any outsiders within their iron-walled cities."
Zachery just shook his head, "Sad to think they live their lives secluded and alone."
Now, we were talking about dragons! How could this be? This was turning into a trip full of nightmares. I wondered what would it take for the dwarves to be involved with Amundiss again? Would they ever want to?
8
Friends in Need
The next morning, Zachery woke to the sounds of talking. Or rather bickering. One of the King's Guards, who had been on watch during the night, told of a stranger that came into town. He was horribly scarred and clearly afraid. He claimed to be from Whitehold, sent to deliver a message from “The true king and ruler, Dori'naur's people.”
"Tell me, son, what did this man say?" asked Gabriel.
The young guard struggled to speak. "Your majesty, he was not of his right mind. The man had been forced to deliver this message by torture."
Gabriel looked him in the eyes. "I am aware of this. Now tell me the message, please."
He straightened his back, swallowed his fear and spoke. "A price has been put upon the heads of the false king and queen, Gabriel and Natallia. Rewards to the one that brings them to Dori'naur's castle dead or alive."
"Some of the Queen's handmaidens must have overheard the physician tell Natallia she was with child and broke under the torture from Dori'naur. The knight said the traveler looked to be starved and beaten," Antoine said, sadly.
Before the guard went to rejoin the others, he mentioned one last thing. "The strange markings on his body were made to resemble tree bark. This demon is making the people in his likeness."
The people were being tortured until they broke to Dori'naur's will or killed and tossed to the side. King Gabriel was furious at the news. "We leave now! We must make it to Weelinn as soon as we can. This Benzoete has to help us in some way."
I desperately wanted to find out about my parents, but I knew we could not disclose our location. I would have to wait and pray to the Gods they were safe.
GEORGE KEPT A WATCH on the demon's actions, trying to stay out of sight. Dori'naur had started his reign of terror, with the people of Whitehold. Just as he had promised in the garden, all would either serve or suffer. The ones that would not break found a blade across their necks. George and Elizabeth were no fools. They knew what it would take to keep their family safe, so they played their part as servant to the demon.
"Please, George, we must do as he says," pleaded Elizabeth. George cupped his hands around her face, her big brown eyes filling with tears. "I have spoken to Xavier, the king's advisor. He tells me that Gabriel has taken the queen and Zachery to Weelinn. We need to find others willing to fight and wait for our chance to escape. I know Gabriel, and he will not just flee. We need to help as many people as we can."
Dori'naur’s first task was to make the people look the part of his subjects by scarring their bodies to resemble his own tree-like form. The evil new King of Whitehold started assembling an army, knowing that, with numbers, it would be easier to overthrow all the surrounding realms.
Standing atop of a statue of Gabriel's father, King Owin, in the courtyard, he called. "Good people of Whitehold, hear your new ruler. I require an army. Any volunteers that heed my call will be rewarded for their loyalty." Some of the men wishing to protect their families stepped forward reluctantly. As the men lined up before their new ruler, Dori'naur pointed to the women watching from the side. "I have a task for your males. I hope, for your sakes, they can carry it out. We will crush this former king and the Vessel of Light!"
Dori'naur knew he was on the right trail sending the bounties for Gabriel and Natallia. He planned on ending this threat before it had a chance to e
ven begin. The people of Whitehold did not want to carry out the demon's wishes, but found they had little choice. Against George's advice, a militia had formed one night to try to destroy the demon at the castle.
"PLEASE, I AM BEGGING you to wait. Give us a little time to plan our escape," George pleaded with the men.
Twenty men decided to try and defeat the demon.
One of the men told him, "We understand if you are afraid, George. Stay back and protect Elizabeth and Launa."
Jacorry, one of the willing fighters added, "If we fail, please help our families to safety."
George nodded his head solemnly and gathered the families outside leading them to a hidden shack which had been overlooked by the demon's gaze.
The small army fighting against Dori'naur found that killing a demon was not an easy task. They attacked while they thought the demon rested. Their rotting corpses now hang naked at the gates as a reminder to all the promises he made. Each body had a message carved in it, for all to see: "Serve or Suffer."
Dori'naur now knew that Natallia was with child and on the run. We just hoped we could outrun the news of the demon's bounties.
WITH THE NEWS FROM the stranger, King Gabriel was even more on edge now that Dori'naur knew Natallia was with child. They rode for Weelinn as hard and fast as their horses could carry them. When they arrived at the city’s gates, they found a party of hooded men waiting for them. The King's Guard drew their swords and prepared to defend their king.
Gabriel held his right hand up. "Easy, men. From whom do we have the pleasure of welcome my, good man?"
The tall man in the front stepped forward and removed his hood.
Zachery gasped. "You're an elf!" He had never seen an elf before.
He had hair as black as night, pulled to one side in a tight braid. His skin was a pale color that seemed to shimmer in the light highlighting the scar that ran from the left eye to his right cheek. A snarl came across his face. "My name is Elos. I most certainly am not a man. My master, Benzoete, is expecting you."
Gabriel climbed down from the wagon. "How is Benzoete expecting us? How did he know we were coming?"
Elos made a pathetic attempt at a grin. "Master Benzoete knows more than your pitiful life span will allow to be told. Follow us, and you will be taken care of."
The small band of elves took the group into the city. Weelinn was the central hub of merchants, the center of all trade. Buildings with people selling anything imaginable lined the city streets, fish merchants, fur traders, an odd man with a monkey telling fortunes. Weelinn had whatever goods you needed, and a nightlife that no one could resist. Another common seller was the flesh peddlers who drew patrons from all the realms.
The group followed a winding road leading to a tall building in the center of the city. Round and made of a light-colored brick, it looked as if it could touch the clouds. It was surrounded by several smaller buildings connected as one, and he structure resembled a cogwheel that had fallen out of a large machine. They approached a large blue door with strange brass hardware that looked like small hands holding the door in place. Elos turned to the group again. "My master only requires the four to come," he said, pointing to Gabriel, Natallia, Antoine, and Zachery.
"Make a perimeter around the building. No one is to disturb us. If we need you, we will call for you." Gabriel told the guards. The men saluted their king, and then followed his orders.
Elves! I could not believe we had actually found them. I hoped this Benzoete is nicer than the group he had sent to welcome us. The Gods were on our side that day.
They followed Elos up a winding staircase that led to a very large and cluttered library. The room looked as if it were larger than what the outside portrayed. Windows lined the walls, allowing a wave of sunlight to burst in. Dust fluttered in the air flying off shelves that haven't been cleaned in years. Books were as far as the eye could see on bookshelves made to look like a maze throughout the room. Standing behind a desk, mumbling to himself, was an old elf with long white hair pulled back in a braid. He wore red and gold robes that had several burn marks on it.
The elderly elf looked up. "Welcome, friends. Are you well? How was your trip?"
Zachery’s jaw dropped and then exclaimed, "YOU! You are the man from the pub that told me of the prophecy! I saw you die! Twice!"
Benzoete let out a hearty laugh. "My boy, you saw only what I wanted you to see. I had to convince you of the story, so you would believe. I had to act in secret so the prying eyes and ears around you would not be alarmed. I knew when you told dear Gabriel, he would think of me and want answers. His father, Owin, spoke of me highly, did he not?"
"Yes, my father told stories of the great wizard Benzoete, with his endless knowledge and answers. How do you know of Dori'naur and that our child is the Champion?" Gabriel asked, looking very confused.
Benzoete walked over to a large basin filled with water surrounded by blood red candles. "When you are connected to the Water of Life, nothing escapes your gaze. I have seen these demons and I have seen your child. All these acts can be altered, so we have to protect this child, for he holds our future. But only, if allowed to mature and harness his power."
Natallia rested a hand on her stomach. "What power will he be born with?"
"In due time, my Lady. We must concentrate on your and the child's protection," Benzoete said.
Antoine listened closely. "But how do we protect my sister and her child?"
Before the wizard could explain, Zachery stood and spoke. "In Bronze Valley you told me that the child would grow but no one here would know. Also, that I was the key. Please, tell me what needs to be done."
Benzoete walked over to a shelf and started fumbling through his books on his desk.
"Ah, here it is. The Book of the Ancients." The old wizard passed page after page until he reached a passage and read aloud. "Tel yeste' en' nelde will come e'a. Atara whos findl s en' flames, helma en' I moon, ar' proto ed I' Dire Draug, Sha deli var."
Elos smiled, but the rest of the group remained confused. Benzoete rolled his eyes and translated, forgive me. "The first of three will come as the tree. A champion of light will come into sight. The mother whose hair is of the flames, skin of the pale moon, and protected by the Dire Wolf, she shall deliver."
Natallia looked faint, grasping Gabriel's arm. "How does this book know of me and our child?"
Benzoete walked over and placed a hand on her shoulder. "My dear, we are all connected in this life force. What shall come has already happened and what has happened shall come again. Everything revolves in life's circle, if it is not broken. The future is set, unless we change it. I have fought these demons before, we need your child to be the turning factor."
Gabriel looked hard at the old elf. "All right, then what do these Life Waters say we need to do? We have a world to save. We will not allow this demon to have his way with our people."
Benzoete clasped his hands together and said, "Talking to you is as if I'm speaking with King Owin again. I knew the Waters had chosen correctly."
King Gabriel spoke, and it stirred the inner fire in all of us. I wanted to serve him and fight 'til life's last breath. I just hoped we could save our world before our last breath occurred.
9
New Family Found
Benzoete turned to Zachery. "You hold the key. Do you think it was chance that your father found the soon-to-be king in the forest that day?"
Gabriel looked to him with utter confusion, the feeling shared among them all. Benzoete asked the boy. "What do you know of your grandmother child? Your father's mother."
"She died of the fever when my father was very young. He was too young even to remember her," Zachery said.
George rarely spoke of her, at least to Zachery.
"Yes, George told me the same when we were growing up. What does his mother have to do with this?" asked Gabriel.
With a gentle smile and warm eyes, Benzoete looked to Gabriel. "Your meeting in the forest was more than hap
penstance. It was the fates moving the pawns of life in the direction they needed to be moved." The wizard looked to Zachery and asked. "Do you have the dagger that your father used that day to slay the spider?"
He reached for his boot. "I am growing tired of wanting to ask how you know these things!" As Zachery pulled the dagger from his boot, Benzoete stretched forth his hand, waiting for it. The wizard's next statement changed Zachery, forever.
As Benzoete gazed in remembrance at the blade, his fingers fumbled over the shiny gold gems stones encased in a brass handle. "I asked about your grandmother because she was special to me. Well, she is special to me. You see, I can assure you she did not die of fever. She did not die at all. She is my daughter," he said.
The room suddenly fell silent.
Zachery's words seemed to not want to be spoken. "How... How could this be? How could my grandmother be an elf? How could... Why did... How could my father lie to me and keep this secret from everyone?" Zachery said, as his mind flooded with questions.
"They had to keep it a secret, because for an elf and a human to become involved, laws of life had to be broken. When they learned that a child had been conceived, she had a choice. Valindra could renounce her elven heritage, her immortality, everything that made her elvish," Benzoete explained. "Or renounce her husband and child."
Zachery, who was usually reserved, could not hold it in. "And she did not? What kind of mother does not do everything in her power to be with her child?"
Benzoete gently sat him back down. "The kind of elvish mother who has a child with one of the noblest humans I have ever known. Doron, your grandfather, did not allow Valindra to give up her gifts. He told her that after he was gone, George would need someone looking after him, even if it was from afar. They made the choice to sacrifice their love for their child."
The Bad Seed Page 4
