“I am that, but eight years ago I came here to learn the healing arts from the old she-goblin. I’ve been away for half a year and only today returned,” Myrel answers.
“You must have come to the island shortly after I left for King Red’s kingdom,” Trak speculates.
Myrel offers, “I have known Baelock casually for eight years, but only a few years ago, did I learn from the king’s smith that Baelock was your mentor here on the Isle of Uisgebeatha. I sought out Baelock to learn your fate, and he said you were taken prisoner by Baron Teiber. He believes you died in the south. He is in for a big surprise,” Myrel laughs.
“Baelock! Is he still here on the island?” Trak asks.
“He and Meg recently returned from the capital. They are sharing the cave,” Myrel replies.
“Do you mean they are living as husband and wife?” Trak asks incredulously.
“Apparently, they have been lovers since before Meg first came to the Isle of Uisgebeatha. They hid their secret well until I stumbled upon them accidently. There is trouble on the island, and Meg and Baelock have gone to investigate. They should return tomorrow or the next day.”
Myrel lights a lamp and the two sit at the hut’s table. Trak stares at the face he has thought about so often in the past eight years. It still displays the intelligence and dignity he remembers. Myrel thinks Trak looks older. His cheek scar has faded to a thin white line. He still has the warm smile she first noticed on the balcony where they met. “Why are you here?” Myrel asks.
Trak doesn’t know where Myrel’s allegiances lie, but if she is with his grandmother, he believes she can be trusted. “I have come to aid the subterranean goblins who are beneath the island preparing to confront Tironock Kan. They believe the Second Sowing is imminent.”
“Yes. Meg believes that goblins living in the hive beneath Ardonbrae will soon seize and occupy the temple. Meg came to the island to investigate the activities of the subterranean goblins. She has discovered white goblins are excavating below the surface and dumping their tailings into the sea. She and Baelock entered their tunnel this evening hoping to learn what the subterraneans are about.”
“They are building a new hive out in the channel,” Trak replies. “They believe that water blocks Tironock’s power. They hope the evil one will not be able to reach them beneath the sea.”
“How is it that you know this?”
“I have agreed to help Ghad Samraet, the goblin commander. He’s convinced me that I play a role in the future survival of goblins and men.”
“I wish you had arrived before Meg left. I fear the white goblins will catch her spying and harm will come to her,” Myrel laments.
“Perhaps we should leave immediately to see if they need our aid,” Trak suggests. Myrel fills a pack with provisions, and the two set off. He offers Myrel his hand as they descend the cliff. She doesn’t need assistance. Trak just wants to touch the pleasant softness of her skin.
Myrel squeezes his hand gently. “I have a confession to make,” she begins. “When you left eight years ago, I missed you sorely. I think I was starting to fall in love.”
“For what it is worth, I am still in love with the girl I met on the balcony. I regret losing you,” Trak confesses.
Myrel stops him as they cross the rocky coast and puts her arms around him. “The joy I feel in having found you again may not survive this night, but while joy is upon me I want to relish it.” She put her lips softly against his. For both, it was the first time they have experienced such intense longing for another. Myrel unties her robe, and lets it fall on the rocks. Trak’s fingers risks exploring the contours of her lithe body.
Trak realizes he not only wants her but would always want her. Without knowing how she would respond, he utters the traditional goblin words of bonding as he lays her on her robe. “I take you now and give myself forever.” Myrel repeats the vow. It is done. In the moonlight their two shadows become one. They could work out the details later.
***
Trak has acted rashly, but he has no regrets. He hopes Myrel would always feel the same. Trak leads Myrel to the tunnel where they wait for the subterranean goblins to emerge. Trak speaks to the first goblins that appear. He introduced himself as Lord Dragonfire, a name Myrel has never before heard, but one familiar to the white goblins. By torchlight their leader leads them through the tunnel to where the hive is being constructed. Trak is holding Myrel’s hand when they approach Ghad Samraet.
“I am pleased that you accepted my invitation to join us. I see you have brought a priestess,” Ghad courteously bows to Myrel.
“Commander Samraet, I would like you to meet Myrel Dragonfire, my spouse,” announces Trak. It pleases him to proclaim publicly his bond. Myrel undoubtedly has a family name of her own, which she might prefer, but Trak doesn’t know it, so he used his own, the one King Giforing bestowed on him. He is particularly pleased that he has found a mate without paying any regard to her station in life or having revealed that he is the son of the Thaumaturgist. Myrel shares the sentiment. She has bonded for love and no other consideration.
Samraet is surprised, not because Trak is married, but because he finds Myrel’s odor strangely confusing. It contains the same essence of the divine lineage that Trak’s possesses. In fact, if not for the female component, her essence and Trak’s are nearly identical. How is that possible?
Trak inquires, “Commander Samraet, we have much to discuss, but first we must ask about the safety of our companions who entered your hive last night, a male and an old female.”
Ghad looks puzzled. “I know nothing of intruders.”
Trak turns and shouts into the chamber, “You can show yourselves. All is well.” A moment later, Meg emerges from the shadows supported by Baelock and hobbles to the center of the chamber. While Ghad is trying to conceal his embarrassment for how easily the two have penetrated his underground lair, Trak presents the two who raised him, “Baelock, Master Metal Smith, and Meg, High Priestess of the Septantrak.”
Again, Ghad recognizes the odor of the Thaumaturgist’s lineage on Meg. It seems he has nearly the entire family standing before him. How strange, he reflects. I am preparing to attack the temple and three of the temple’s leaders are here acting like we are old friends. “Why have you come?” he asks Meg.
“The truth is we wish ye no ill will.” The Earth Spirit has commanded us not only to prepare for the Second Sowing but to seek common ground.”
The four surface dwellers stay for several hours while they discuss the deteriorating political developments and the white goblins’ plan to invade the temple. Baelock shares his concern, “The subterraneans can’t match the iron weapons of the royal army and the Secret Police. I offer to help you forge your own iron. I believe we can overcome the many technical difficulties.”
Myrel informs Ghad the Thaumaturgist convinced the temple clerics to evacuate their families. When the attack comes, the clerics will attempt to flee to safety and allow the army to fight for the temple. Myrel suggests Ghad allow the attack to develop slowly so the clerics have time to make their escape. Ghad asks Trak, “Will you prepare explosives to seal the temple entrances?”
As the surface dwellers ascend, Meg recalls how Trak introduced Myrel as his spouse. Impossible, she thinks. She notices how the couple holds hands and how sweetly Myrel’s face beams. The truth strikes Meg hard. The two are certainly in love. She says to Myrel, “How is it possible that you two are bonded?”
“We fell in love eight years ago when we met in the temple, but it wasn’t until last night when Trak suddenly appeared on the isle that we declared our bond to be husband and wife,” Myrel replies with a whimsical smile.
Meg gasps. They don’t comprehend what they have done? No! How could they? They were separated at birth and never told of the other’s existence. She didn’t have the heart to tell them they were siblings. Meg doesn’t know what to do, but says, “For now, keep your marriage a secret. I will explain later.” Trak doesn’t understand
the need for secrecy. He is looking forward to his reunion with his old friend Farg. He wants to surprise the duke’s son with news of his marriage, but Meg insists Trak keep their bond a secret.
Chapter 35
Main Hive beneath Neu Ardonbrae
Krage’s second visit to the goblin hive beneath Ardonbrae is more pleasant than when he was there as a captive. After stopping to change his temple robe for a loincloth and to expose his commander’s tattoos, Alrik escorts the Thaumaturgist directly to the Great Hall where the Queen Mothers are holding court. One of the Queens speaks, “We are glad you survived the humiliation you suffered during your last visit. When Tironock is present, it accomplishes nothing to oppose his commands. It only increases his wanton destruction and killing. We are sorry we could do no more to aid you than suggest he throw you into the viper pit.”
“It was enough. Your thoughtfulness was most appreciated,” quips Krage with a smile. He would always bear the scar where the viper’s fangs penetrated his thigh. “Alrik has spoken to me of your concern for Tironock’s growing power and your desire to escape his influence. I have come to ask you if moving to the ruins of Ardonbrae might serve that purpose.”
“Possibly, but we are not certain. Presently, Tironock may not be able to control us in the higher levels of the mountain, but his power is growing. The day will come when he will follow us even on the surface. Tironock has acquired the power to enter our thoughts. We fear that soon he will make us one with his will. We must begin our exodus soon, while our spirits are still free to resist him. Our plan is to allow Tironock to believe we are under his control. We will convince him the time has come to invade the surface world. We will pretend to obey his commands, but once we reach the surface, we will forswear our allegiance and flee his wrath.”
“Of course, those on the surface will resist your incursion, and you will be caught fighting for your survival between Tironock and the armies of goblins and men,” observes Krage.
“Yes, but if that is our fate, we will die free,” two Queen Mothers reply in unison. It is as if the queens share one mind. “We hope to seize the temple and to exchange it for safe passage to lands where Tironock’s tentacles cannot reach us.”
“It would buy you time, but I fear that is all you will gain. We need a plan to defeat Tironock,” Krage emphasizes.
Another of the Queens speaks up. “Our military commander, Ghad Samraet, is building a new hive in the channel between the Isle of Uisgebeatha and the mainland. Water weakens Tironock. He appears to fear it. We hope beneath the sea we will be safe, no matter how powerful he becomes.”
“The surface dwellers on the Isle of Uisgebeatha have observed your tunneling. They view your activities as a threat. I will send word to the duke that no threat is intended. Your plan to seize the temple still concerns me. The temple is an important symbol to many of the surface dwellers. They will fight to defend it. We have evacuated the families of the clerics and many in the city are leaving, but others are preparing to fight if the Septantrak is seized.”
“We intend to seal all temple entrances and make that a difficult task,” a Queen replies.
Krage asked them how much time he has to prepare the surface dwellers for the coming events. “Our hive under the sea is not yet finished. By this time next year, we will be ready, but Tironock may force our hand sooner.”
Krage has failed to deter the subterranean goblins from attacking the temple, but he has gained a better appreciation for their motives. As Alrik and Krage pass through the ruins of Ardonbrae on their return to the surface, Krage remarks, “At least, tourist activity has ceased and many of the temple’s residents have relocated.”
***
On the Isle of Uisgebeatha, a messenger arrives at Meg’s cave announcing Queen Dorla has arrived on the island. The king has sent his queen to her childhood home to protect her from the threat of a white goblin invasion. Dorla no sooner arrives than she announces she is giving a party. Since marrying King Lorring, she has set the social tempo for the capital. Parties are her forte, and her first act of business on the island is to rescue Duke Amin and her cousin Farg from their provincial lifestyle.
For a week after returning to the surface, Myrel and Trak stay secluded in their hut. They emerge in the afternoons to take long walks through the island’s heather covered fields. When Trak is told of the party, he realizes Farg is still unaware of his return to the island. He decides to surprise his old friend with his appearance at the festivities.
Myrel, Meg and even Baelock have all brought clothes from the capital, but Trak needs something to wear. He enters the broch once occupied by Krage to see if any of the Thaumaturgist’s old clothes are still there. Trak is delighted. Despite all the years, the manikin in the broch still wears Krage’s suit of red leather armor. It is in need of repair, but when the silver medallions are polished, it would be most striking. He wants to surprise everyone with his costume, even Myrel. So he takes the leather armor to Wreen, the duke’s metal smith, and asks him to make the needed refurbishments.
Wreen is actually glad to see Trak and inadvertently divulges a secret that Baelock has kept for a decade. Wreen muses, “I wonder how different our lives would have been if I hadn’t agreed to promote ye to Master Smith in exchange for Baelock’s help in becoming the duke’s metal smith.”
The night of the gala arrives. Trak tells the others to precede him to the castle. He wants to arrive late and surprise the duke and Farg. “Be sure to notice the expressions on their faces when I’m introduced. You must describe it to me later,” he says to Myrel.
When the duke’s liege nobles have gathered in the castle’s feast hall, the introduction of dignitaries begins. Myrel is introduced as Lady Myrel Oregile, daughter of Krage the 59th Thaumaturgist of the Septantrak and Queen Meriem of Bretwalda. Farg remembers how upset his father had been several years ago when Myrel used her real name and titles. Thinking about the past, makes Farg nostalgic. His life had grown too tame.
Meg is introduced as Debrah Megai, High Priestess of the Septantrak and her escort as Lord Swordbeater, a title King Giforing bestowed on him for his years of service. Lord Farg and the Lady Vona, his spouse of four years, are introduced next. Dorla is introduced last as Her Majesty, the High Queen of the Goblin Realm.
Trak waits outside the keep until the musicians begin to play. He assumes all the introductions are over. It is time to make his surprise entrance. He gives his name to the Master of Ceremonies, who is flustered by Trak’s late arrival. He isn’t even on the official guest list. The Master of Ceremonies asks Trak if he would like to just walk in and mingle with the crowd. “It would be extremely rude to upstage her royal highness,” he explains.
“Announce me,” Trak insists.
The Master of Ceremonies steps into the feast hall and speaks in a commanding voice, “Your attention, please.” He waits for the musicians to stop playing and all eyes turn his way. “Lord Trak Dragonfire, the son of the 59th Thaumaturgist of the Septantrak and daughter of Queen Meriem of Bretwalda.” Trak steps into the chamber wearing the ceremonial uniform of a Thaumaturgist. He doesn’t realize the significance of the red armor he wears, but Myrel and Meg recognize it immediately.
Trak looks across the room and spots Farg. He looks like he had seen a specter. Trak is ecstatic that his surprise has worked so well. He walks across the room to greet his friend and notes the look of recognition on Queen Dorla’s face. What do you think of your kitchen boy now? Trak muses as he congratulates himself on his cleverness. By the time Trak reaches Farg, the duke’s son has recovered sufficiently to give his friend a warm welcome. As they embrace, Trak catches sight of Myrel. She is exiting the hall with a look of horror on her face. She is almost in tears. Trak begs Farg and the Queen to excuse him and races out of the hall in search of Myrel. Only Meg realizes what has just happened.
Myrel is not to be found in the courtyard. Trak goes through the gate in the outer wall and looks down the hill. He sees Myrel running toward the for
est, but doesn’t catch up to her until she is back in her hut. “What has happened? Why are you so upset?” Trak pleads. Myrel tries to speak but all she produces are deep sobs and more tears.
“Please leave me,” she finally says. “I must be alone.” Trak walks as far as the old goblin’s cave, where he waits restlessly for Meg to return. She, too, leaves the party early, feigning illness. She finds Trak standing in front of her cave. “Where is Myrel?” she asks.
“She is in her hut, but she will not speak to me.”
“Ye still don’t know what has happened, do ye?” asks his grandmother. “Tis my fault; I should have told ye sooner, but I thought ye and Myrel didn’t even know of the other’s existence. How could I have anticipated ye would suddenly show up and bond with each other before I even knew ye arrived on the island?”
“Told me what?” Trak asks. He couldn’t imagine what Meg withheld from him.
His grandmother remembers the night twenty-seven years ago, the night Trak was born. “I was there the night Queen Meriem gave birth to twins, a boy and a girl. For their safety, it was decided to raise them apart. Neither was to be told of the other’s existence. The kingdom was in chaos. King Red was about to invade the kingdom and Lord Lizardthroat was plotting against the king. One of the twins had to survive to become the next Thaumaturgist. Ye were sent to this isle to be raised by Krage, Baelock and myself. Your sister was cloistered in the temple to be raised by her mother.”
The truth doesn’t register until his grandmother adds, “Myrel is your twin sister.”
The old goblin rested her hand momentarily on Trak’s shoulder. “I will speak with Myrel, Perhaps I can calm her.”
Trak removes the silly armor he wears. It makes me look like a boiled lobster, he thinks .He has not intended to be cruel, but he realizes that his joke on Farg is the cruelest possible stunt he could have pulled on Myrel. He hates himself for his self-absorbed antics. He has been bonded with Myrel only two weeks. Already he has ruined everything. Trak wanders into the night to be alone with his pain and self-loathing.
Forging the Half-Goblin Sorcerer Page 34
