The Legend of the Seven Sages: The Kin of Caladen

by B. A. Scott

  Gabrel observed Adelyne’s wound. A hideous coloration had developed, and black trails branched from the bite, coursing through her veins. Gabrel’s face lost its color as a surge of morbid fear overcame him. She’s going to die, he realized. And there’s nothing I can do to stop it.

  At that moment, two soldiers entered the healing house, wiping rain from their faces.

  “Master Runehyll,” one of them addressed the healer. “There was a report from the wall that Genton was attacked. The survivors are said to have come here.”

  “That’s us,” Gabrel told him before the healer could respond.

  “We need you to come with us then,” said the soldier.

  “Why?” asked Gabrel.

  “To report what happened.”

  “Can’t I just tell you here and now?”

  “The King might have further questions for you.”

  “The King?” Gabrel asked. “You want to take us to King Mercer? Sorry, but it’ll have to wait. We’re not leaving our wives.”

  “The King doesn’t wait until it’s convenient for you to see him. You’re coming with us—now,” said the soldier.

  Gabrel looked back to Adelyne, noticing the healer had called over several helpers. One of them, an elderly female, put her hand on Kaven’s shoulder.

  “Please sir, you must wash this blood from your hands at once,” she said. “Come over here to the basin.” While Kaven numbly consented, the same two men who carried the sickly man’s body away lifted Kiara from her bed.

  “Wh-what are you doing?” Kaven asked them frantically. “Where are you taking her?” The men did not answer, so the elderly woman spoke for them.

  “To the pyres,” she said. “We need to burn her body at once.”

  “Wh-No!” Kaven yelled, leaping toward the men. But Gabrel restrained him. Still, Kaven managed to grab the hem of Kiara’s dress, and refused to let it go. “You’re not taking her anywhere!”

  “Her body is unclean,” said the woman. “I’m sorry.”

  The men carrying Kiara tugged her away from Kaven’s grasp, leaving only a torn strip of cloth in his hand.

  “Wait!” Kaven protested desperately. “Don’t take her! Bring her back!”

  “Kaven,” Gabrel whispered into his younger brother’s ear. “Kaven, listen to me. She’s gone.”

  “We haven’t got all night,” the soldier reminded Gabrel. “Don’t make us drag you to the castle.”

  “Could you just—please? One moment?” Gabrel addressed him heatedly, begging the soldier to appreciate the gravity of his situation. Gabrel then adjusted his grasp on Kaven into a firm embrace. “I’m sorry, Kaven,” he said, feeling his brother’s tears against his skin. “Look, stay here. I’ll go with the soldiers. Will you look after Adelyne until I get back?” He felt Kaven’s head nod slightly. They released their embrace, and Gabrel moved to Adelyne’s side. He put one hand in hers, and the other on her belly. “I’ll be right back,” he said, and kissed her forehead.

  “We’ll bandage her and keep her comfortable until your return,” said the healer. “When you do, I’ll have a look at those scrapes of yours.”

  “I’m fine,” Gabrel told him, not having paid his own injuries any mind. He approached the soldiers and spoke, “Let’s get this bloody over with.”

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 2: King Mercer

  Gabrel waited outside the castle’s Great Hall with his escorts. Two soldiers guarded the gigantic closed doors.

  “I thought I was going to see the King right away,” Gabrel said, thinking only of getting back to the healing house as quickly as possible.

  “You’re not the only one reporting something tonight,” said one of the soldiers who had retrieved him. Beyond the doors, Gabrel heard raised voices—a muffled argument with ever-heightening tempers. Then, a heated dismissal, followed by determined footsteps.

  The doors swung open with surprising force, revealing a lizard-like figure.

  “Unbelievable,” it fumed, exiting the Great Hall with abounding resentment in its eyes. “My effects?” the green man inquired hastily of the guards. One of them handed him two short, wide-bladed swords, which he sheathed through hard leather loops on his back. His ears were pointed, his livid eyes were golden with green irises and instead of hair, thick, dark green tendrils adorned his head.

  “Is that a Skaelar?” Gabrel whispered to the soldier beside him. “What’s it doing in Caleton?”

  “Bringing news to the King, no doubt,” the soldier replied as a well-dressed man exited the Great Hall.

  “Treäbu Skael’adar,” the man said. “If you would please wait just a moment.”

  “Don’t you follow me, ambassador!” said the Skaelar, pointing a sharply clawed finger in his face.

  “It’s the King’s orders. Like it or not, I’m coming with you.”

  “I don’t take orders from your king, Ralindur,” said the Skaelar.

  “Well I do, I’m afraid, however inconvenient it is for you.”

  “Titus Mercer’s a fool and coward. And I’ll be damned before I play escort to the likes of you.”

  “It’s not wise to travel alone,” said the ambassador. “With all the reports coming in—”

  “You couldn’t keep up anyway,” the Skaelar said, then noticed Gabrel observing him. “What are you looking at?” he asked.

  Gabrel froze. “Just—I’m not—” was all he could utter before the Skaelar disregarded him, and turned back to his follower.

  “I can look after myself,” he said, then stormed from the corridor with the man on his heels, mumbling just loud enough for Gabrel to overhear, “I came to Caleton out of honor and courtesy. Fecha makke.”

  “Friendly fellow,” Gabrel said, watching the Skaelar’s tail disappear around a corner. Not a moment later, the speaker for the King emerged from the Great Hall and spoke to Gabrel’s escorts.

  “Who have you brought?” he asked.

  “Gabrel Caladen,” said one of the soldiers. “With news from Genton.”

  “Very good,” said the speaker. “The King will see you now, Gabrel. Please follow me.”

  He led Gabrel into the Great Hall at a quick step, while the soldiers remained outside. Upon entering, Gabrel was instantly overwhelmed by its grandeur. White stone walls bore relief carvings depicting the history of the Humans, and banners of blue and silver hung from the high ceiling. Ahead, a short series of steps led to King Mercer’s throne. Flanking him were Queen Ocyra and Princess Ayden, with postures so perfect, it seemed to Gabrel as though they were carved from stone.

  When the speaker reached the steps, he addressed the royal family. “Your Majesties,” he said. “I present Gabrel Caladen of Genton.” He stepped aside, giving Gabrel a wide berth.

  Gabrel instantly felt King Mercer’s discerning eyes upon him.

  “You are the eldest son of Doniel Caladen, are you not?” the King asked.

  “I am,” Gabrel answered.

  “Is your father in the city tonight?”

  “He is.”

  “Then why did he not come before me?” asked the King.

  “He wasn’t in the healing house when your soldiers came to collect me,” Gabrel replied.

  King Mercer appeared displeased. “The healing house, you say? I do see that you’ve been injured. What happened to you?”

  “My cottage was attacked by Lord Daro’s demons,” said Gabrel. “We live on the outskirts of Genton—my wife and I. We were having family over for supper. We’d all just sat down to eat. That’s when they came—two Primen and two Blessed Ones bashed down our door, and tried to kill us all.”

  “But here you stand, still alive,” said the King.

  “That’s more than I can say for my brother’s wife,” said Gabrel. “She’s just died of her wounds. And my wife suffers from a Primen bite that—without the proper treatment—will surely take her life.”

  “Well, you’re still more fortunate than you know. I spoke with a man from the town of
Carthryte not an hour ago, who said he returned home to find his entire family slaughtered. Did you happen to hear of any other incidents in your own village?”

  “No,” said Gabrel. “We rode here immediately after the attack. Your Majesty, why would Daro’s demons attack Genton? Why would they attack my home?”

  King Mercer hesitated before answering. “I don’t wish to cause a panic,” he said, “but I believe Daro is taking this city’s outlying towns and villages before striking at its heart.”

  “You think he wants to attack Caleton next?”

  “I fear he has every intention of doing so.”

  “Why?” Gabrel asked. “I don’t understand.”

  “I haven’t the time to give you a history lesson, Gabrel,” the King said agitatedly. “If your father never bothered to educate you properly on the matter of Lord Daro, that’s his failing to amend, not mine. However,” the King suddenly seemed to reconsider Gabrel’s curiosity, “for all you’ve lost this day, you do deserve a semblance of an answer, and it is thus: The Fountain of Evindar lies within this city’s walls, I’m sure you know at least that much.”

  “Yeah,” said Gabrel. “But what’s it got to do with Daro?”

  “Drinking of its waters has been denied to Lord Daro all his unnaturally long life,” said the King, “for it would grant him the power of Fury—one of the most destructive forms of magic in all the world. For centuries, he’s waited patiently in exile, craving the waters of Evindar. Now, I fear he has finally chosen to strike and claim its terrible gift for his own.”

  “So, all this is happening because Lord Daro wants to drink from a ruddy fountain?” Gabrel asked. “That’s why my brother’s wife died? That’s why Caleton’s—”

  “It isn’t just Caleton that’s at stake, you simple-minded fool!” the King interrupted angrily. “Lord Daro will wage his war on all of Adoran, and it will start here—with us. The Fountain of Evindar is just the beginning. It’s the lock—the final floodgate—and we are the ones who guard it. The days that lie before us may indeed be the darkest this land has ever known. For if he succeeds—if he drinks from our ruddy fountain, as you so dimly put it, with the power of Fury at his disposal, Daro would be nigh unstoppable.”

  “Forgive me, your Majesty,” Gabrel spoke and bowed his head. “So, if Daro was to attack Caleton, do you think we’d stand a chance against him?”

  “Put your faith in these walls, Gabrel,” said Mercer. “Caleton has never fallen to an outside force, and rest assured, I will do whatever it takes to ensure our survival. As such, this very night, I’m sending my ambassadors to the other nations, requesting the aid of their armies.”

  “And is one of those ambassadors, by any chance, going to the Erygians of Allestron?” Gabrel asked.

  “Indeed one is,” said the King. “He’ll depart tonight and return, hopefully, with not just an army, but with medicine for those—like your wife—who need treatment. Now, I understand your personal stake in his mission, Gabrel. Your loved one’s life hangs upon his timely return. But I should warn you. My ambassador has several stops to make along the way. There’s a good chance he’ll not return in time to save your wife.”

  “Then send me,” Gabrel proposed. “I can leave tonight, and bring the Tears of Life much sooner than your ambassador would. I won’t stop for any—”

  “If you have any sense about you, you’ll keep safe within our walls,” the King interrupted, firmly. “With all the reports coming in, leaving Caleton puts your life at risk.”

  “But if I’m made to just sit here and wait, watching my wife die slowly, day by day, I’ll go out of my mind,” Gabrel responded.

  “Listen carefully now,” Mercer’s voice grew serious. “I urge you not to do anything reckless or stupid at this precarious time in your life. It is clear to me you are a desperate man. Were I in your position, I can’t say I’d think any differently. But desperate men oft abandon reason, and act on foolish impulse.”

  “I know that leaving the city would be dangerous,” said Gabrel, “but I have a chance to save my wife and child, your Majesty. I can’t bear the thought of losing them.”

  The King considered Gabrel for a moment, then spoke sternly, “In trying to save their lives, you’d no doubt lose your own. I’m sorry, Gabrel, but your loved ones are dead already. Best you make your peace with it now.”

  A wave of heat surged through Gabrel’s body as his emotions boiled inside of him. He wanted nothing more than to lash out at the King. But what good would it do, Gabrel asked himself. To hell with it. He might have given up on Adelyne, but I’ll be damned if I do. King’s endorsement or no, I’m riding for Allestron tonight.

  Gabrel returned his full attention to the King and spoke, “Is there anything else you require of me, your Highness?” Mercer studied him, trying to read the intentions in Gabrel’s obstinate eyes.

  “You have a bit of your father in you” he said. “There’s a stubbornness about you I’ve seen in him many times.”

  “I suppose,” said Gabrel.

  “Tell him to present himself tomorrow morning. Spare my soldiers the trouble of tracking him down.” With a bow of his head, Gabrel consented. “That is all,” said the King. “You may go.”

  When Gabrel returned to the healing house, he found Kaven and Adelyne exactly where he’d left them. Doniel had since returned, and with him stood a tall young man with light brown hair.

  “Dareic?” Gabrel uttered upon seeing his youngest brother. Alerted to Gabrel’s presence, Dareic spun around and sped to greet him.

  “Big brother,” he spoke as they embraced. “I should have been there. I’m so sorry.”

  “No,” said Gabrel. “Something could have happened to you too.”

  “At least you’d have had another sword in the fight,” Dareic argued, releasing his embrace to take a better look at his older brother. “Things might’ve been different. Kiara might still be—” he looked back at Kaven, who appeared numb to the world as Doniel put a comforting arm over his shoulder. His tears no longer flowed. Instead, Kaven stared blankly forward, his face, an expressionless shell that greatly unnerved Gabrel. In his hand, Kaven still held tight to the cloth ripped from Kiara’s dress.

  “She saved my life, Kaven,” Adelyne spoke as Gabrel and Dareic came to her side. “Kiara threw herself in front of a Primen to protect me.”

  “But I couldn’t protect her,” Kaven uttered.

  “There was nothing more you could have done,” Doniel attempted to comfort his son. “We were lucky to have survived ourselves.”

  “How are you feeling, Adelyne?” Gabrel asked, noticing that his wife’s injury was treated and bandaged, though her wrappings looked as if they already needed to be changed.

  “Outstanding,” Adelyne said. “How’d it go with the King?”

  “Outstanding,” Gabrel responded in the same sardonic tone as his wife. “Father, King Mercer requests your presence in the morning.”

  “I expected as much,” Doniel grumbled.

  “Why would he want to see you?” Dareic asked.

  “The King thinks Lord Daro’s going to attack Caleton,” said Gabrel, “so he’s sending out all of his ambassadors to the other nations, asking for their help. He probably wants to re-enlist you, doesn’t he, Father? And send you off to some distant corner of Adoran.”

  “Oh, I doubt he’d ever do that again,” said Doniel. “No, I expect he’d rather have me take up my post as Captain in the army. If he fears an attack, he’ll be recruiting all he can. And those with experience, like myself, will still be valuable to him—however old and crusty we may be. But that’s not what matters at the moment. Gabrel, the healer’s just told us they’ve no medicine here for Adelyne.”

  “I know. Mercer’s sending someone to Allestron to get more,” said Gabrel, looking into Adelyne’s eyes, “But he’ll take too long to help her.”

  “Well shit,” Dareic said.

  “Which is why I’m riding for Allestron tonight. Titus Mercer m
ight have given up on my wife, but I sure as hell won’t.”

  “After what we went through to get here?” Doniel asked sternly. “You’d go right back into it?”

  “I’m getting her that medicine, Father. I’ve already made up my mind. Wouldn’t you have done the same thing when Mother got sick?”

  Doniel lowered his head, and spoke solemnly, “I just—after all we’ve lost tonight, I can’t lose you too.”

  “I can look after myself,” Gabrel said assuredly.

  Doniel looked at his eldest son as though it was the last time he’d ever get the chance to do so.

  “You don’t have to do this alone,” Kaven said with a coldness in his eyes that Gabrel had never seen before. He rose to his feet, and spoke determinedly, “I’m going with you, Gabe.”

  “The hell you are,” Doniel protested.

  “No, Kaven,” Gabrel said. “I’ll not drag you into this.”

  “You’re my brother, Gabrel,” said Kaven. “And I’ll not lose you the way I lost Kiara. There could be more of Daro’s demons on the road to Allestron. You’ll need someone to watch your back.”

  “Well if Kaven’s going, I am too,” Dareic chimed in.

  “What?” Gabrel and Kaven exclaimed simultaneously.

  “No!” Doniel yelled. “That’s enough! I’ll not sit by and watch while all three of my sons decide their deaths!”

  “Please, stop yelling!” Adelyne shouted. Everyone looked to her and fell silent. Then, as Adelyne observed each of them, their faces became frightfully emaciated and demonic, as though a gruesome evil had suddenly possessed them. Adelyne’s eyes filled with fear as she gasped in sheer terror.

  “What is it, Ady?” Gabrel asked, kneeling at her side and grasping her hand. But Adelyne shrieked and recoiled from his touch.

  “Get away!” she yelled. “Get away from me!”

  “Oh no,” Doniel uttered fearfully. Adelyne twitched her head, snapping her wits into place. The faces around her changed back into the men she knew.

  “Oh, I’m—I’m sorry,” she said, catching her breath and wiping the sweat from her brow. “I thought you were—I mean, I must be more tired than I thought.”