“We will search the king’s chamber as soon as the Grand Master returns,” Bedwyn said. “I apologize I was not able to keep Sertorius out of your room—I hope he did not disturb you. I am to remain here, Your Grace. I mean no offense; Grand Master Roland wants you watched ‘round the clock. It is for your safety.”
“No, I am glad you are here, Sir Bedwyn. I trust you.”
“Then I am honored and will do my best to prove your trust is well-placed,” Bedwyn said. “Do not stand at the window; I cannot see in the dark, but that does not mean others do not watch. Please. Sit near the fire so I can keep my eye on you and not worry an assassin’s arrow will reach its mark.”
“Zarnoc,” she whispered, “please, come soon.”
* * * * *
Chapter Seventeen
Seated on her bed with the map spread out before her, Taliesin studied the position of everyone of interest in the castle. Ringerike lay on the bed beside her and provided a soft blue glow to view the map. Sir Bedwyn remained seated in a chair at the door and nervously tapped his boot on the floor.
The map showed Roland with the dukes from Thule, Fregia, and Bavol, as well as Lord Ungus, in a small conference room near the Sun Hall. Fregian and Thule soldiers stood outside her bedroom door. Bavol and Thule soldiers stood beneath Taliesin’s window in the courtyard and at every window in the north wing of the castle. Her attention focused on the dungeon, but to her surprise, not one Wolfman, or the Wolf or Eagle heirs, was in their cell. Arundel and Calista were in the south wing, where the Eagle lord’s room was located.
Almaric, aided by one of his many spies in the castle, had escaped from his room and was now headed with Wolfgar and Lykus to the south wing. Either Almaric knew Arundel and Calista poisoned the king and was involved in the plot, or he did not realize the two Clan lords maneuvered behind his back. Both Sertorius and Dinadan were in their own rooms, and for the moment, it appeared they were safe.
“Phelon has joined the Wolf Clan on the main hill outside the castle. It looks like they are moving catapults into position,” Taliesin said. “Xander is in his tent, surrounded by a green haze. This isn’t good, Bedwyn; the Eagle heir is using his magic to create a death fog.”
Bedwyn spilled his tea onto his lap and let out a yelp. He walked to the bed and stared at the map. “I don’t see anything,” he said. “Roland said you had a magical map. He can read it—he studied magic when he was a boy. What else does the map show you?”
“That Xander intends to kill the Garridans, then everyone inside this castle,” she said. “Have a guard find Roland while I put a stop to what Xander is doing. I can summon a downpour or a blizzard. At least, I think I can, but I’m not so sure I can make a large storm with Lord Arundel trying to negate everything I do. He is a sorcerer, Bedwyn, and so is Xander. And they’ve been using dark magic against me.”
“Make it rain,” Bedwyn pleaded. “The catapults will slide in the mud, and with the grounds wet, there is no risk of a fire inside the walls. Listen—I can hear wolf howls. They’re coming from the city. Can you hear it?”
“The Wolf Pack is running wild in the streets of Padama. Thousands of people live here, and if they can be turned, Almaric will have an army inside these walls, and Varguld will be set in motion!”
Bedwyn left the room in a rush, closing the door behind him. He shouted orders as if he were on a battlefield, and stampeding footsteps echoed outside her door as soldiers left to deliver messages. She tapped the map, but it refused to show her what went on in the streets of Padama, as if annoyed she’d told Bedwyn about the doings of the Wolf Clan. The map acted a little evil at times; however, it did continue to show her Master Xander and the green fog as it blew toward the outer wall of the city. The royal guards in the eastern tower were enveloped by the fog and keeled over, dead; tiny X’s showed where living men had appeared before as dots. Before more died, Taliesin imagined large black rain clouds over Padama.
“Please, Mira,” she whispered. “This isn’t a prayer, and I don’t know what’s going on at Mt. Helos, but if you can, please help me.”
A patter of rain struck the windows, and she glanced at the map. The green fog receded as a strong gust of wind pushed it toward the enemy camp. Soldiers from Aldagar, Scrydon, and Maldavia, along with Wolfmen, dropped dead. Xander exited his tent, moved in a frantic circle, and put an end to the green fog, which quickly dissipated.
“That got their attention,” she said aloud, and the Raven Sword let out a soft whine. “Now, let’s find nasty, old Arundel. Where is he, map? Show me.” She smiled as the Eagle lord appeared. “There he is…locked in his room with Calista, Lykus, Almaric, and Wolfgar. Ringerike, they are planning something awful, I just know it.” Another whine caused her to frown. “The sewers? That’s right—they were never blocked. The Wolf Pack must be using them to gain entrance into the city. You want me to block them? I’ll try. Mira, are you listening? I need to block those grates!”
As Taliesin gazed at the map, the sewer system beneath the city appeared, an intricate blueprint that reflected five miles of tunnels. More than fifty grates appeared, and she suddenly realized, if she blocked them, sewage would be blocked as well, and that wasn’t something she wanted to happen—the stench alone would kill half the residents. Instead, she imagined the grates enchanted, unable to be bent, broken, or removed by even the strongest Wolfen. Tiny dots appeared along the eastern side of the city, where Wolfmen gathered. Many had already gained entrance to the city, and several groups crept through the tunnels. She closed the inner grates and trapped the enemy soldiers inside. Each door that offered an exit into the dungeon or lower levels was also sealed with a single thought, and she sensed the Raven Clan ghosts beneath the castle heading toward the enemy with the intent to ‘kill, kill, kill.’ It was a chant in her mind, and though she took pride in her work, she was terrified to think of Raven ghosts killing with abandon.
A sudden tap at her windowpane made her think of Zarnoc, and she looked up, hoping to see the raven on the sill. Instead, she saw large hailstones fall, striking the castle, as well as the enemy camp. She glanced at the map, and saw tiny tents flutter off in the tempest. Catapults turned onto their sides, and a number of soldiers were sucked into a tornado that leveled part of the Tannenberg Forest. She thought of a sunny sky, but the wind only howled louder outside her windows. A loud crash heralded a section of roof from the north building that blew past her windows as a flurry of hail cracked a pane.
“Ringerike, I don’t think Mira is helping at all—this is all me. And I’ve summoned a storm too large to control. Why did I think I could do so much? I have really overstepped my limits this time. How do I make it stop!”
The dark clouds over the city produced red lightning, and a soldier flew past her window, his screams barely audible. She grabbed sword and map. As she stood in front of the windows, she stared at the sky, calmed her thoughts, and imagined starlight. The sword trembled in her hand and the map turned into a scarf. She spotted a glint of silver moonlight through the clouds, and imagined it spreading to push away the storm. The result was instantaneous; clouds vanished along with the wind and rain, a full moon appeared overhead, and silver light bathed the grounds beneath her window. Soldiers crawled out of the rubble and men ran out of a doorway with torches held high. A lone wolf ran from the men and jumped the wall.
‘Taliesin,’ cried a ghostly voice. ‘What have you done?’
She turned toward her bed, and saw a form pressed into the bed drapes. A slender body stood wrapped in the drapes, but did not step into view. The drapes moved, but Taliesin saw no feet on the floor—the body was suspended in the air. Her sword lifted her arm, and a blue light shot from the tip. She took a step forward.
“Who are you? What do you want?”
“It is Mira. I am a prisoner of Ragnal’s at Mt. Helos.”
Taliesin stared at the drapes. It appeared all she had to do was pull them aside to reveal the body hidden within. She held the sword aside and stuff
ed the map inside the top of her dress.
“Then how are you here?” she asked.
“I am not here, but I heard you call my name, so I now project my voice so we may talk,” the goddess said. “I came to warn you. My sister, Navenna, and my mother, Broa, have sided with Ragnal. They put me in a cage. Arundel and his son have asked for their help, and all three use their magic against you; that is why the storm grew so large. They will continue to interfere every time you summon magic. Even now they attempt to lift your enchanted grates to let the Wolf Pack into the city.”
“Mira, I am still learning how to use my magic. Without Zarnoc and Ismeina, I can only do so much before it grows out of control. I need their help and yours, if I am going to be effective as a sha’tar and defeat the Wolf and Eagle Clans.”
“There is no time to train you in spell-work. For you, it is a matter of believing in yourself. You must have confidence, Taliesin. Without it, you are mediocre, at best. I want to help you; however, I am unable to do so while caged. Keep trying, Taliesin. You must focus. You must have faith in yourself if you are to defeat Ragnal and Varg. You must end the Wolfen curse and stop Varguld from spreading to the corners of the world!”
Taliesin shook her head. “It is too much to do on my own,” she said. “What can I do, Mira? I am a warrior, not a witch.”
“Come to Mt. Helos, Taliesin. Free me, and I will help you!”
The drapes fell to the floor with a clatter, and Mira vanished. The Raven Sword pulled her forward, and Taliesin pulled the drapes onto the bed, able to smell a trace of magic in the air. Mira had a sweet smell, like vanilla, and as it faded, she heard a tap on the wall. The bookcase slid aside, and Sir Roland, a candle in hand, poked his head into the room. Other men stood behind him in a secret passage.
“Come with us. Be quick,” Roland whispered.
Taliesin waved her hand at a dresser, and it scraped as it moved across the floor and blocked her bedroom door. She joined the men in the passage; Harmattan and Simoon, the lute worn on his back, accompanied Roland. Taliesin held the sword aside and followed Roland, wanting to ask him what was going on, but remained silent as they made their way through a network of passages to the east wing. She heard voices in the tunnel. Roland held up his hand and they paused. They stood behind what appeared to be a large portrait covering a hidden entrance to a room. Roland lifted his fingers to his lips.
“Taliesin summoned the storm,” Lord Arundel said. “I told you we should have locked her in a cell and taken the sword from her. You wanted to go to the banquet. This pretense of caring about your father has proven costly, Prince Almaric; you know very well how your father died.”
“Now I do. Now I know the truth,” Almaric snarled. “I did not give orders for my father to be poisoned, Arundel. Neither you nor Lykus will make another move without my approval. You claim to love this woman, but you are the one who pretends. You do not love my aunt; you are using her to gain power.”
“Mind what you say, Almaric,” Arundel said.
“They’re turning,” Calista cried. “My love, tell these men to draw in their fangs. Tell them you will cage them if they turn into wolves. I am frightened!”
They heard a loud crash. Snarls grew loud, and Taliesin imagined either Lykus, Almaric, or Wolfgar had turned Wolfen. Her mother let out a scream. Something slammed into a wall, followed by a yelp.
“That will be quite enough, Wolfgar,” Arundel said, in an angry voice. “You and your men were to infiltrate the castle. Now that the sewers are sealed, cutting off your entry and exit, you’ll have to use the front door. Taliesin is stronger than you realize.”
“What do you want me to do?” Almaric asked. “Kill her?”
“When the High Council is seated tomorrow, summon the Wolf Pack and bite them,” Arundel replied. “When you are made king, your army need not invade the castle. And, we must now deal with the Hellirins, since you asked for their help. I could have told you the Hellirins do not keep their promises. You have involved the Magic Realms, and now we must wage war against them.”
Footsteps approached the portrait, and a loud snarl caused the hairs on the back of Taliesin’s neck to stand on end. Fingernails raked down the painting.
“I can smell her,” Almaric snarled. “Someone is in the passage! I thought you said this room was secure, Arundel. I am beginning to find your magic abilities less than satisfactory.”
A long claw poked through the portrait. Taliesin swung her sword and severed it, and the resulting howl caused a scurry of activity on the other side of the painting. A sword sliced open the portrait as Captain Wolfgar burst through and into the passageway. Roland pushed Taliesin behind him and lifted Moonbane.
“Run!” Roland shouted.
The swinging axe knocked aside the sword as Wolfgar stepped into the passage, and Roland traded blows with him. Wolfgar’s armor burst at every joint and dropped to the ground as he assumed his full Wolfen size. Taliesin herded the rest of the men out of the way. The sound of blades clanging against each other echoed in the hidden corridor along with the Wolfen’s snarls. Wolfgar was taller and considerably faster, and whenever he thrust his sword forward, Roland slammed it against the wall to avoid the tip. Roland’s attacks required more room, and although he might have held the advantage on open ground, in the closeness of the passage his blade slammed into the walls when Wolfgar dodged the swings. Roland had no other recourse but to fall back as Wolfgar continued to thrust and stab.
Taliesin waited for Roland at a bend in the hallway. Ringerike spilled blue light that crept forward as Roland backed up. When the knight was close enough, the light moved in front of him and created a shield. Wolfgar thrust his blade forward, but as the tip connected with the blue light, it sent a jolt of energy through the Wolfen that caught him off guard and sent him flying backwards. His big body crashed into a wall, and the sword fell from his grasp as he fell to the floor.
“Move,” Roland shouted. He slid one arm around Taliesin’s waist, lifted her, and carried her around the corner as he ran from Wolfgar.
A howling Wolfgar and the rest of the Wolfen tried to follow, but were blocked by Ringerike’s blue light. Taliesin stared through the bright light at a pair of yellow, slanted eyes as Roland continued to carry her to safety.
Harmattan waited at an open door. As soon as Roland carried her into the adjoining room, Harmattan slammed the door shut, and Simoon quickly slid a heavy iron bar into place, locking the door. From behind it, Wolfgar howled in frustration.
“If you’re going to look for clues, do it now,” Roland said as he released Taliesin and lowered his axe. “It’s a pity I wasn’t able to get in one good blow; that’s one Wolfen I’d like to kill.”
“Are you all right? Did he hurt you?” Taliesin asked.
“He didn’t come close.”
Duke Andre, three Thule knights, and five Knights of the Blue Star, including Sir Gavin, stood inside King Frederick’s chambers. Harmattan and Simoon remained at the closed door to the secret passage, shivering each time Wolfgar slammed against it. When the Wolfen finally fell silent, Taliesin and Roland turned and stared at the interior of the king’s chamber, which was a mess. The bed curtains were shredded, books lay ripped apart, pages were scattered across the floor, and Frederick’s clothes were heaped in a pile in the center of the room.
“Smells like wolf piss,” Duke Andre said, disgusted.
“Either Lykus or Wolfgar came here before they paid a call on Lord Arundel,” Roland said. “Sir Gavin, I am glad you are here. Your sword is needed this night, for the Wolfmen are loose in the streets. Where are the rest of your men, my Lord?”
“Nearby. So are the knights from Erindor. We’ll deal with the Wolfmen,” Sir Gavin said. He drew his Mandrake sword and left the room.
“So much for a secret meeting,” Duke Andre said. “Arundel must have let the Wolfmen out of their cages. He knew we were coming here. Elric and Hercule remain in their rooms, guarded, as does Ungus, but I fear we are trapp
ed. You sent the Blue Stars out to fight the Wolfmen, and no one is left guarding the door.”
“Be quiet,” Taliesin said, holding up her hand. She sniffed the air. “No one is in the corridor, but we don’t have much time to search this room before Arundel, Lykus, and Almaric arrive. I kept Xander from killing the Garridans and the rest of us; that was my storm. Although it was difficult to control, it did get the attention of the goddess Mira, and she paid a call. She is a prisoner of Ragnal’s at Mt. Helos, and the rest of the gods have sided with him. If Almaric becomes the next king, it’s not the Hellirins we need worry about, it’s the Maeceni; they want Varguld to consume everyone. Only Mira can help us, but we have to free her first.”
“We can’t fight immortals, Almaric’s army, and the Hellirins,” Duke Andre said. “What are we to do?”
“Remain calm,” Roland growled.
Taliesin felt eyes staring at her and turned to look at a portrait above the dark fireplace. Queen Aislynn’s face was destroyed; claws had ripped the canvas to shreds and left only the eyes.
“Dinadan stood right here when his father was murdered,” she said. “Arundel ordered it, but my mother put him up to it. If he marries my mother, he will be one step closer to the throne. She doesn’t realize she’s in danger, for he means to kill her just as soon as the crown is placed on his head.”
“Arundel has always wanted power, but he lets others do his work,” Roland said. “I’m sure he had something to do with the death of King Korax Sanqualus, but I do not know why it has taken him one thousand years to claim the throne.”
“You mean Arundel is not a mortal man?” Duke Andre asked.
“Lord Arundel is a Tritone, a merman,” Taliesin said. “He is able to assume the appearance of a human and walk on dry land for long periods. He sheds his skin to appear young, and changes his name with each generation. That is how he’s stayed in power so long. The Wolfen do not age either, Duke Andre—Arundel and Lykus were knights in the court of King Korax. Not that it will help, but I do happen to have Korax’s royal court in my possession. They are alive and would testify about what Arundel and Lykus really are, if allowed to speak. Also, some of them are magic users.”
Queen of Magic Page 26
