The Wizard of the North

by Richard Stephens

  Sadyra motioned with her hand for the others to hurry past her and make their way left, following the vice chambermaster.

  Solomon hurried down the passageway. He slowed down as he reached the fork and casually looked both ways. He motioned with his head for them to catch up.

  Sadyra and Larina stepped into the intersection and gazed both ways. Seeing the corridor was clear they started off toward the exit shed down the left fork.

  “No. Not that way,” Solomon’s hushed voice stopped them. “This way.”

  “Are you crazy?” Sadyra snapped, her mood sour. “The exit’s this way.”

  Olmar scowled down at the vice chambermaster.

  “You can’t go that way. There are guards posted outside the exit. I know another way.”

  Larina cast Sadyra a doubtful glance.

  Sadyra walked back to confront Solomon, raising herself on her toes, placing her face inches from his. The dead guard’s dagger appeared in her left hand. “If this is a trick, I’ll gut you.”

  Solomon stepped back and swallowed, his eyes never leaving the knife. “You have to trust me. If you don’t get out of here soon, you’ll be recaptured and killed. As for him,” he nodded to Alhena’s limp form, “I shudder to think about what else they have planned.”

  Olmar growled.

  “Not me,” Solomon put up his hands, “but, if you want to live, you must trust me.” Without waiting for their response, he strode with purpose to the three healer’s doors beyond the tunnel fork on the left wall. He paused before the last door. Rummaging through the folds of his robes, he produced a golden key and unlocked it. The door swung outward without a sound. He reached out and grabbed a torch burning between the last two doors and disappeared into the room.

  Sadyra bit her lower lip. “A healer? Makes sense.”

  A cough sounded from down the tunnel behind them. Everyone hurried after the vice chambermaster.

  The healer’s chamber was like any other. A small bed, a nightstand with stubby candles stuck to its surface, and nothing else, other than wall hangings of religious scenes covering the chiseled rock walls, more to stave off the chill from the rock than to provide an artistic flair. A lumpy burlap sack lay on the bed.

  “Where’s da healer?” Olmar asked, his great frame stooped to fit into the chamber. “Alhena needs a healer.”

  “No time for that. If Jibrael finds you, you’ll be needing a grave digger,” Solomon said, and shoved the bed away from the far wall. He pulled back a wall hanging and, careful not to get the torch too close to the tapestry, slid behind it and felt about the wall.

  Larina helped Omar unload Alhena onto the bed to give his arms a break.

  Sadyra took one last look down the corridor and pulled the door closed. She searched the room. “Oh great. We’re trapped.”

  A faint ‘snick’ sounded from the corner of the room and the tapestry fell flat against the wall. Solomon had disappeared.

  Larina ripped the wall hanging aside to be met by a blast of cold air.

  Solomon stood on the landing of a slender stairwell that dropped out of sight into darkness below. “Here. Take the torch.”

  Larina stepped onto the landing and relieved the vice chambermaster of the brand. Thin, roughly hewn steps descended well beyond the torch’s light. “Where’s it go?”

  Solomon squeezed by her and pushed back into the room. He held the tapestry out and signalled for Olmar and Sadyra to follow Larina. As he waited for Olmar to gather up Alhena, he said, “It’s a long tunnel. I can’t really say when it was last used. I won’t lie to you. I was through it about twenty years ago, and even then, it wasn’t in great shape. I just hope it hasn’t suffered a major cave in.”

  Sadyra let Olmar duck into the yawning hole. She raised her eyebrows at Solomon, indicating that he should go next.

  Solomon shook his head. “Oh no. I need to remain behind to keep an eye on the Chamber. You must get back to Madrigail Bay. Gather whatever forces you can and sail south to Apexceal. My brother is the baron. Tell him what’s happened here. Tell him the Chamber is compromised. He’ll know what to do.”

  Sadyra pointed at him with the dagger. “If this is some kind of treachery, know this. I’ll come back for you.”

  Solomon gave her a placating smile. “There is no treachery, I assure you. I wish Alhena were awake to allay your fears.”

  “Convenient for you that he isn’t, hmm?” Sadyra bumped past the vice chambermaster, shoving him accidentally on purpose against the unforgiving wall.

  Solomon ignored the act. He raised his voice to catch everyone’s attention. “It’s imperative you do not fail. Helleden has combined forces with the Kraidic Empire. They march south as we speak. I’ve learned they plan on eradicating all resistance above the Undying Wall before continuing south. You’ll be hard-pressed to get back to Madrigail Bay in time as it is.” He reached out and pulled the sack from the bed and shoved it at Sadyra. “Some food.”

  Sadyra digested his words and grabbed the sack. She put the food bag down and stepped back into the room before Solomon could release the tapestry. “You never answered Larina about the tunnel.”

  “The tunnel?”

  “Where’s it go?”

  “It’ll take you many leagues underground. Far from here. No one will follow, I assure you.”

  Sadyra got right into his face, placing the dagger against his breastbone. “Where. Does. It. Go?”

  Solomon swallowed. “To the banks of the Torpid Marsh.”

  Serpent’s Eye

  Karvus stormed about the emperor’s pavilion. Kill the Wizard of the North? How did that pasty-faced enchanter expect him to do that?

  Faux and another one of his father’s concubines did their best to stay out of his way as they stowed the tent’s contents into large trunks lining the tarpaulin walls. He hated how they watched him from the corner of their eyes, presumably afraid that he might erupt in violence.

  Helleden’s commanders had assumed control of the Kraidic army and were mobilizing the combined army for a forced march on Castle Svelte. His scouts had reported that King Malcolm forces made it back to Carillon before the maelstrom. The king had survived and was calling the remainder of his depleted regiments together. It was Helleden’s hope to crush the resistance before it became a concern.

  It had been Karvus’ ambition to one day behead Zephyr’s monarch, but Helleden’s order had seen to it that that would not be happening. Instead, he was to travel back into Kraidic territory in search of the Wizard of the North. Ach, how he despised magic users. Give him an enemy with a battle-axe, any day.

  Not only was he to search for the infamous wizard, he was to do it in the company of the Sentinel—a creature that possessed a magic of its own. Karvus cursed his father for entertaining an alliance with Helleden Misenthorpe. What had the fool been thinking? Everyone knew sorcerers weren’t to be trusted. His father had paid for his lack of foresight with his life. If Karvus wasn’t careful, he might find himself doing the same.

  “Excuse me, my emperor,” Faux’s friend, Divina, said, her faint voice exotic.

  Karvus glared at the dark-skinned woman with waist length, silky black hair. His furrowed brow dared her to continue.

  Divina held up his father’s priceless, crystal wine glass. “Where should I put this?”

  Karvus wanted nothing to do with his father’s effects. “You can shove it up your…” he trailed off, mad at himself for responding so. Shaking his head, he added, “I don’t care. Keep it for all I care.”

  Divina’s mouth hung open and Faux’s blonde head whipped about.

  “Oh no. I couldn’t do that, my emperor. This was Emperor Krakus’ personal glass. It is worth more than my entire village.”

  Pfft, Karvus thought, and walked away. Your village isn’t worth the wine stain on the carpet. “Keep it, pack it, or break it, I care not. I don’t wish to see it again.”

  Divina looked to Faux and whispered, “With a possession like this, I’ll be able t
o feed my village for years. We’ll be able to buy livestock to till the fields. Our women won’t have to put a yoke over their shoulders anymore.”

  Faux took the cue. She discreetly withdrew a small burlap sack from the trunk nearest her and upended the contents on the bed. “What about these?”

  Karvus turned to observe several golden rings encrusted with rare stones—rescued from his father’s bloody corpse and lovingly cleaned by the two women. He knew what they were up to. He should be angry. He should discipline the impudent slaves with the toe of his boot.

  “You may each take one of them. One!” He walked over and plucked one of the larger rings from the pallet. “Except this one. The Serpent’s Eye must remain in the imperial family.”

  Why am I explaining myself to wenches? Karvus tried the ring on his right ring finger. It fit snugly. He studied the Serpent’s Eye as if hoping it would give him insight into what his life would become under the constant shadow of that horrid beast. All that he was certain of was that the journey wouldn’t end well for one of them. As confident as he was in his own abilities, he couldn’t help thinking he was the one fate didn’t favour.

  The tent flap suddenly pulled aside, admitting Tygra Keen. The black-bearded man dropped to a knee and bowed his head. “My emperor. Helleden comes.”

  Karvus glared at the top of his aide’s head, and considered the black warhammer slung over Tygra’s back. His breathing grew heavy. The time had come for Karvus Kraken, the Emperor of the Kraidic Empire, to swallow his pride and depart on what he believed could only be an ill-fated journey. He doubted even Helleden capable of killing the Wizard of the North. Why else had the sorcerer ordered him and the Sentinel to see to it? Because the sallow-faced finger-wagger was afraid to do it himself, was Karvus’ belief.

  “Is that damned creature with him?”

  “No, my emperor. It hasn’t been seen since last night.”

  Karvus sighed. He would see it soon enough. “Very well. See to it the men don’t impede him. Escort him to me and then remain with us. Understood?”

  “Yes, my emperor.” Keen stood up straight, and slipped through the flap.

  Karvus stared vacantly at the spot his aide had vacated. He spun about and took in the luxurious appointment of his great pavilion. Travelling with the Sentinel was going to prove a culture shock for him. Did the beast even sleep?

  “Clean that shit off the bed, and then leave me,” he ordered the concubines. His eyes fell on the four remaining rings as Faux’s delicate fingers plucked them from the pallet and deposited them back into the sack. Good. They had only taken one each. He would hate to kill his father’s women this soon after his death. He wasn’t sure which of the rings the women had taken for themselves, but it didn’t really matter. Each one was worth a king’s ransom. Perhaps he should offer Tygra one.

  The women had no sooner departed when the flap pushed in again. Tygra Keen held it aside as Helleden floated in, his black robes swirling around him.

  Karvus resisted the urge to pull his battle-axe from over his shoulder. He glared at the insolent sorcerer.

  Helleden gave him a hollow smile. “Are you ready to depart?”

  Karvus managed not to blurt out the retort on his lips. With great restraint, he said through clenched teeth, “As ready as anyone who is to be saddled with your hell beast.”

  “There’s been a change in plans. You will travel with a different companion.”

  Different companion? Not the Sentinel. Karvus’ head spun. As relieved as he was to be rid of the demonic creature, he couldn’t escape the fact that if Helleden expected him to kill the Wizard of the North, the Sentinel’s presence would have gone a long way to achieving that end.

  Helleden stepped into the middle of the tent, walking around Karvus, who turned with him as he went. “I have received a report from a very reliable source. It claims the Wizard of the North is now in Gritian.”

  “Gritian? How can that be? You said he just came down from Dragon’s Tooth recently.”

  Helleden stopped before Karvus’ favourite chair and ran his fingers along its mahogany armrest. “How, indeed. In fact, he was spotted a few days ago, heading south out of Wizard’s Gibbet.”

  Karvus frowned at the sorcerer’s strange words. “Well, which is it? Gritian or northeast of here? Or has he discovered a way to fly?”

  “Both.”

  “Both? There’s no way.” A vision of the Sentinel flashed through Karvus’ mind—the beast had the capacity to shift from one place to another without actually walking there.

  “It appears there are two Wizards of the North.”

  “Two? That’s impossible. There is only ever one. The title has been passed down for generations. A new one doesn’t come to light until his predecessor dies.”

  “That is my understanding as well, but my informants say otherwise. They have ways of detecting the Wizard of the North, and both sources claim to have seen the wizard within the last week…In different realms!”

  Karvus’ eyes widened.

  “One is trouble enough,” Helleden continued, “but now I must deal with two. Thus, the change in plan. My pet has already begun its trek south. It can reach Gritian faster than a man on horseback. Since that is the direction my army will take, I need that wizard detained first.”

  The use of the word, detained, wasn’t lost on Karvus. “So, I’m to head to Wizard’s Gibbet to find the second? How do you expect me to find him in that wasteland? There’s nothing up there but wilderness for days on end.”

  Helleden ignored the question and walked over to the bed. He picked up the burlap sack containing the rings and spilled them onto the top sheet, fingering each ring absently. “Your father’s.”

  Karvus glared at the sorcerer’s backside. He resisted the urge to unsling his battle-axe and imbed it into the man’s skull.

  “Three are missing.” Helleden answered for Karvus, and turned to face him. The sorcerer’s bloodshot eyes flicked to Karvus’ right hand. “I see you kept the important one. That’s good. You’ll have need of that one.”

  Karvus gave him a blank expression.

  “You don’t know of its significance?” Helleden asked, nodding at the Serpent’s Eye on the emperor’s finger.

  Karvus refused to acknowledge his ignorance.

  “Hmm. I wonder if Krakus even knew what he had? That ring, my emperor, is key to finding the Wizard of the North, especially to those who are ignorant in the use of magic.”

  Karvus held the ring up to his face and examined it, not understanding the sorcerer’s words.

  “May I?” Helleden asked, holding out a hand adorned with multiple rings of his own.

  At a loss, Karvus proffered his hand.

  Helleden’s cold fingers clasped the emperor's hand and studied the Serpent’s Eye. With the utmost reverence, he ran a long-nailed finger over the stone’s gleaming surface.

  It was all Krakus could do not to pull his hand away. His ring finger tingled and the eye came to life, looking first to the left and then to the right, before staring straight ahead. Its focus fell on Helleden until the sorcerer released Karvus’ hand and stepped back, nodding. The stone eye slowly lost the spark of life within and returned to its original state.

  “How did you do that?” Karvus asked, the usual animosity in his tone forgotten. He held his hand outstretched, far away from his body.

  “I didn’t do anything. It is as I thought, the first time I saw Krakus. I sensed the ring. It detects magic.”

  Karvus suspected the sorcerer had something to do with what just happened. “Then why hasn’t it done so before? Why isn’t it doing it now?”

  Helleden shrugged. “Perhaps it has, but nobody paid it any mind.”

  “My finger tingled like it was being pricked by the ring’s touch. I’m sure my father would have known if it acted that way.”

  Helleden shrugged again and raised his thin eyebrows. “I can only surmise that Krakus wasn’t attuned to the sentience of the ring.”
<
br />   “And I am?”

  “With a certainty.”

  The emperor scowled, repulsed by the talisman the sorcerer claimed to have a mind of its own. “Fat lot of good it’s going to do me. Do you expect me to simply walk up to everyone I meet and touch them?”

  “How’s that?” Helleden asked.

  Karvus made a meaty fist and held the ring before Helleden’s face—oh, how easy it would be to smash the sorcerer’s teeth in. Swallowing the idea, he said, “I hold it this close to you and nothing. What good is it that? I’ll pretty well have to make love to the wizard if I’m to make use of this.”

  “What you do with the wizard after you kill him is up to you.” Helleden’s dark eyes glowered. “That ring was forged during the onset of the wizard crusades to detect spellcasters. More importantly, it was used to locate the strongest wizards. It’s my understanding the Serpent’s Eye is triggered by the proximity of a notable wizard’s energy. The more adept the wizard, the easier it is for the Eye to locate them. Your ancestors used this ring to track down and eliminate the entire guild at Arcanium.”

  “Except one,” Karvus corrected him.

  “Except one.”

  “Then why doesn’t it react to your presence?”

  Helleden smirked. “Come now. You don’t honestly think I would allow a simple trinket to detect my presence.”

  The sorcerer did something with his fingers and lips so quickly that Karvus wasn’t sure he had done anything at all. The Serpent’s Eye flared to life, staring straight at Helleden.

  Pain shot through Karvus’ finger. He flailed the affected hand around to no avail. Clutching the ring, he pulled it off and threw it to the ground, its touch burning his fingertips. “For the love of hell!”

  The ring bounced and came to rest near Karvus’ feet. The eye stared up at Helleden.