Cursed Cleric

by Salvador Mercer

  “You seemed very surprised to learn of this Arnen fellow,” Malik noted. “You didn’t seem to be prepared for that twist.”

  “Hardly a twist,” the lich replied. “I was more surprised to learn that he is the last of the Arnen. I never thought there would be a day when Agon would be rid of their kind for good.”

  “You don’t approve?”

  “They are meddlers and charlatans only mimicking the might of my kind.”

  “You mean the dead kind or the magic kind.”

  The lich tilted its head and pondered its next words for a moment before speaking. “Be thankful you have your trinket of protection.”

  “Otherwise you’d strike me down for my sins.”

  “You are being flippant now.”

  Malik walked over to the lich and rested on hand on the rod that was tucked securely in his belt. The glowing eyes never gave any indication where they were focused, however whether by habit or instinct the lich’s skull would occasionally hint at what the creature was looking at and this time was no different. The skull dipped slightly as the distance closed and Malik knew the undead lord was looking at the rod. “You can overlook some of my discretions considering the deed I have fulfilled for you after a thousand years.”

  The lich waited for a moment then said, “Indeed.”

  The wind started to increase as the sun set and the temperature plummeted. The discussion with the undead creature took its toll on the young Ulathan despite his having the rod which protected him and gave him a sort of immunity from the lich’s power. It also allowed Malik to control any undead around him and even those leagues distant if they ventured at least once within the rod’s sphere of influence.

  Bran Moross was not locked in any cell, nor was he interned behind closed doors. It was simply understood that should the man venture outside the castle complex, he would do so at great risk. Without the rod, he was powerless to stop an attack by the undead that roamed his once proud land. Malik Terrel could only protect him so long as he was physically near the man and within his ability to control the undead and keep them at bay.

  “So you look pale as usual,” Bran noted as Malik pulled up a chair and grabbed a stale loaf of bread.

  “Talking to Azor will do that to a man.”

  Bran nodded. “Do you think it will let me go?”

  Malik shook his head, “Not to free you, but it will allow you to fulfill your oath.”

  “I’m really regretting that now,” Bran said. “I made that oath after being duped and seeing my wife in mortal danger.”

  “He didn’t dupe you, he showed you the truth. You made your decision.” Malik opened the bread and in disgust threw it into the fire. “Damn mold everywhere.”

  “Well, there are no cooks or bakers to make fresh bread.”

  “What else do we have to eat?”

  “Beef jerky, pickles, though not too many, some cheeses and of course the Kesh left plenty of wine and ale.”

  “I drank both and the wine tastes worse than sour grapes while the ale could be beaver piss for all I know.”

  “What do you have against beavers?”

  Malik shook his head and stood up waling over to an almost empty pantry. “I did try, for what it’s worth. The lich will not forego his revenge though I don’t understand why your lineage, or at least that of your wife is so key to its plan. I feel as if it is keeping something from me.”

  “I told you long ago it is impossible to trust that creature. Besides, you continue to address it as he and I think it would be more appropriate.”

  “Then you can talk to him next time and seek your own freedom. I am done for now.” Malik grabbed a small bag that had some dry meat within it and took a nasty looking apple from the shelf and sat back down and started to eat.

  “You know eventually, the creature will need to allow us to hunt, fish, or both. We can’t survive indefinitely on stale and old provisions.”

  “One would think,” Malik said, finishing what few fresh parts of the apple he could before consigning the core to the fire. “However, since Azor doesn’t eat, and neither do the undead, I doubt we’ll receive a sympathetic ear to what we may have to endure with regards to hunger.”

  Bran nodded and then eager to change the subject asked, “Did the lich say where I could find my family?”

  “The same,” Malik noted, taking a swig of fresh water and wiping his mouth with the sleeve of his tunic.

  “In the forest.” Bran sighed and leaned back after speaking.

  “Give it a little more time,” Malik said. “Winter has arrived, and I doubt our countrymen will venture from the safety of their forest.”

  “Or the protection of this Arnen fellow that the creature loathes so much. So what’s the plan then?”

  “I’m not sure,” Malik said. “I seriously doubt it will want you to stay all winter here in Korwell. It must be waiting for something.”

  “Can’t it see everything? It said that nothing escapes its vision.” Bran’s tone almost seemed as if he was pleading for news of his family.

  “Apparently everything except what’s inside the forest. Past the forest’s borders it is dark to the lich.”

  “And you couldn’t find your own home?”

  Malik shook his head. “That is what vexes me the most. I know the land around and inside that forest border like the back of my hand. How I get lost every time I tried to find my cabin is beyond me.”

  “How many times did you search?”

  “I lost track after six, though in all honesty I didn’t try too many more times after that. The forest has always been a bit… queer for lack of a better word, so this new development hasn’t completely surprised me.”

  Bran stood and stretched his legs and then walked to a door that led to a small room where he kept his belongings. Entering it he was gone for only a moment before returning with his sword that he laid on the table. Sitting again he rested a hand on it and said, “I’m not going to sit here any longer without some sort of news and I’d rather die than bring my wife to that thing to do its bidding.”

  Malik looked across the table and answered the stern words with those of his own. “That’s what worries me and in death you still won’t be free.”

  Chapter 5

  The Hunt

  “I still think it would be easier to have that dragon fly you to where you need to go,” Will said at the rear of their column as they pressed forward over another snow drift far from the Blackthorn Forest.

  “You heard Elister,” Targon replied from the front, able to hear the Ulathan guardsman easily in the quiet of the night. “Zelly needs to rest for a bit and he’s still not comfortable with her leaving the forest.”

  “I don’t think she’s ever left the forest from what Elister has said,” Salina spoke from behind Targon.

  “Do we have to travel all night?” Cedric asked.

  “No,” Targon replied quickly. “We do need to put some distance between us and Korwell, however. You heard the same as we did. That undead thing can see the same as a wizard of Kesh.”

  “Better actually,” Khan replied.

  “How so?” Salina asked, curious in her own way and the others had long ago understood where her oldest son had received his penchant for book studies.

  “By all indications, the creature was a Kesh wizard, most likely an Arch Mage even, long ago when those of my order were at their most powerful. Add the extended time and magics available to it for study, and the proximity of Dor Akun and it stands to reason that this individual can most likely master a critir at a high level of proficiency.”

  Targon chuckled, “Yup, exactly what he said.”

  “What?” Khan asked, not sounding hurt or offended in any way but rather confused. “I thought I explained the basis for my hypothesis rather clearly.”

  “Oh, you did that for sure,” Will said from the rear. “I think we still need to get used to your fancy words and detailed explanations.”

  Salina chimed in mu
ch more tactfully, “Khan, what they are saying is that always exceed our expectations when detailing something that we need to know. You are very good at that and we are most appreciative of your time and effort when you do.”

  “Ah,” Khan said, using his staff as a walking aid and keeping up the brutal pace that the Ulathan woodsman had set with ease, due to his magical spell. Only Cedric seemed to be struggling at the moment, and Targon was sure to watch the young man’s ability to keep up. “You do not need to humor me. I understand the implications of their words when I over explain a situation or circumstance.”

  “You do?” Targon asked without looking back.

  “Indeed,” Khan said.

  Salina asked, “Are we still heading in the right direction?”

  Khan nodded even though she was in front of him and not looking in his direction. “The pull is weak, almost non-existent to be exact. However, as the druid said, I expect I may be able to ascertain a better location or direction once we are much closer. I think we are still days away.”

  “We are,” Targon said. “We’ll stop once we reach that draw there in the near distance.”

  The group pulled up and stood in a line looking to where Targon now pointed. They had travelled across Ulatha all day and most of the night, trying to place a few key physical landmarks between them and the city of Korwell. No one knew for sure, but Elister seemed to think it was important in keeping the them undetected from the undead king. Khan’s critir was imbued with druid magic that would prevent the lich from finding them, or so the theory went.

  “Thank the Mother,” Cedric said. “I don’t think I can go much further.”

  Salina nodded in agreement. “Khan’s spell on both of us wore off long ago. I’m afraid I’m getting tired as well.”

  “Well, in your defense, it was a minor enhancement that I tried on you two. It was not meant to provide you with lasting stamina. I am still trying to master that and at times failing rather more than succeeding,” Khan said.

  “Come, let’s get settled in and we’ll rest all day. No telling what can find us out here in the wild during sunlight hours.”

  The others nodded and the group plunged forward until nearly sunrise when Targon expertly found a hollow in the side of the mountain spur. The group of five, Targon, Salina, Cedric, Will, and Khan were hand selected by the dead druid to quest for an ancient artifact that once belonged to the Duke of Ulatha a thousand years ago. It had been placed to rest with the Duke’s nephew after an epic battle with dragons in the far north many centuries ago and lost to time. Only the ancient Arnen, the druid who knew about the history of the realm in great detail, remembered.

  Khan wasn’t pleased with having Dorsun excluded from the group. Dorsun also objected, wanting to fulfill his oath and protect his companion. Elister, however, rightly pointed out that with the undead roaming the land, the Ulathan Pass now open, and the High Mage with full command of the chief critir in the Chamber of Seeing, it was imperative to have a Kesh presence near to their border. Since Khan’s magic was needed in helping to locate the ancient shield, Dorsun was needed to help guard the refugees as well as to be available to assist should the Kesh reenter their woodland realm.

  After several days, the group reached a road that seemed to head northwest. There was the faintest hint at civilization there with the outline of buildings that were built on top of stone long ago. The wooden structures had rotted away to the elements leaving only the foundation of what looked like a fairly large village.

  “That looks like the road that Elister discussed last summer.” Cedric said, bending over and examining part of stone foundation near the road.

  “The one that leads to his homeland?” Salina asked.

  Cedric nodded but Khan replied, “We may have to travel there after our current quest is complete.”

  “Whatever for?” Will asked, not having been privy to the discussions of the druid and not really interested in ancient history. He spent his summer evenings recuperating or partaking in other merriment with the older refugees instead.

  Khan rubbed his chin and used his hand with the staff for double duty pulling his robe tighter around him. “He referred to someone dear to him as Elizabeth.”

  “Beth actually,” Cedric said.

  “Both,” Khan noted, looking at the young man. “I do not understand the magic they use, though I have studied as best I can. The ability to hibernate, or sleep, is something that seemed to be a normal part of their culture long ago.”

  “He did mention it as part of the Akun cycle along with the dragons,” Cedric said, walking to Khan and addressing the man directly. “It seems to me that the most powerful inhabitants of both Agon and Akun slept as a matter of routine for long periods of time.”

  “How long are we talking about?” Will asked, using a foot to test the sturdiness of one of the stone remnants outlining a building.

  Cedric looked at Khan who then answered, “Centuries as near as I can tell.”

  “Well, that druid fellow seemed most interested in you, Khan, when you came into camp last spring,” Will said, looking intently at the Kesh magic-user. “I’d say he has something planned for you.”

  Khan nodded, “The druid has much planned. It remains to be seen, however, what can be executed and what will remain as intent or desire only.”

  “There you go again speaking in riddles,” Will said, walking to the men and slapping Khan on his shoulder for good measure.

  Khan replied, “I can assure you I spoke no riddle.”

  “I’m sure you can,” Will said, then turning to Targon who had been scouting nearby he yelled, “You going to lead us anywhere or are we going to make camp again here?”

  Targon pressed an index finger to his lips and motioned for the group to be quiet. Walking briskly to them he leaned in as they congregated as a group and said, “We are not alone.”

  The others nodded and without a word they turned, looking around the area and saw scant little. They were physically located between two small rises that ran like ridges in a north to north westerly direction. The snow had mostly melted and stood in patches especially on the northward side of any terrain feature where the sunlight was scarcer. Winter grasses still grew green and though dormant, kept the area around them covered keeping out mud and debris.

  Salina leaned over to Targon after seeing nothing and whispered, “What’s out there?”

  The group felt somewhat exposed in the small U-shaped valley. There were almost no trees and only rolling hills and grass covered terrain surrounding them. Only the fact that the ridgeline kept them secluded from direct observation over longer distances gave them any comfort. Targon whispered back, “There was movement across the western slope more than once. Something or someone is on the far side observing us.”

  “What exactly did you see?” Khan asked.

  “Movement only,” Targon said. “Whatever it was it is fast, and it knows we are here.”

  The group looked at each other and more than one hand went to a sword hilt when Will spoke, “Let’s be done with it then and climb that rise and see what’s on the other side.”

  Targon looked at each of his companions in turn and seeing no objection he turned to Will and said, “Right. Let’s find out what’s watching us.”

  Two swords were pulled, while Targon grabbed the crossbow off his back that he had been carrying for Cedric and gave it to him while Will nodded and did likewise with a quiver of bolts. Targon then readied his own bow while Khan gripped his staff tightly. As one they walked quickly westward until the crested the top of the grassy ridgeline.

  “There’s the far ocean,” Salina said, pointing west.

  “The Western Sea,” Khan noted. “I thought it would be farther away from us.”

  Targon looked around and then pointed north at a small grove of trees that seemed out of place in the somewhat open terrain. Now that they were overlooking the lands around them, they saw the usual mountain chain that bordered the north of Ulatha
all the way from the Border Mountains to the Western Sea as well as the rolling foothills that they had been traversing for days now. Far to the southeast they fancied they would see Korwell itself, but it was not visible. The lone wolf however was quite easy to spot.

  “Well now,” Will said, gripping his broadsword firmly. “I think we can handle a lone and hungry wolf.”

  The group had traveled by day now after using the cover of darkness to put as much distance between them and Korwell where the lich resided. It was early afternoon and they had only travelled half the day when they came across the old road and ruins of a village. The wolf raised its head and howled. The daylight seemed comforting to them, but the cold air reverberated with a reply from the lone predator as dozens of howls were heard all around them.

  “Where is that coming from?” Cedric asked turning in circles and leveling his bow prepared to fire.

  Targon’s keen eyes spotted their adversary. “There, far to the north.”

  The group looked and strained to see what the Ulathan woodman had easily observed. It took a moment but due to their movement, the group spotted over two-dozen wolves as they streamed from a mountain slope that was still covered in snow making their grey and black fur coats contrast against the clear white of the landscape. Khan spoke first, “That looks like more than one hungry wolf.”

  “They are still a good way away,” Will said, forcing his optimism.

  Salina nodded, though no one noticed, “Yes, but they seem to be running much faster than I would have thought possible.”

  “Time to go,” Targon said, replacing his bow on his back and putting his arrow back in its quiver. He quickly took the crossbow from Cedric and said, “Run, follow me.”

  The lone wolf let out one more howl and it was understood the scout had spotted its prey. The wolf pack would hunt.

  “Very clever,” Azor said aloud from a top the Korwellian tower.

  “How so?” Malik asked.

  “The Arnen knows of my observational prowess and has aided an individual or a group in leaving the confines of his abode.”