The General set his cigar down on an ashtray. “You paint quiet the fancy picture. But you still have not told me your proposition.”
“I could be the first of the Empire’s mindflayers. I am skilled in Psionics, General. Moreover, I believe I can replicate the process by which the lady of Black Tear stores minds. The flayed minds are delivered to you in small crystals are they not?”
“That’s right.”
“I believe I know exactly what material this is. It is called Idochron, and I have been working with it in my magical studies for years. This very helm which I wear bares an Idochron gem which facilitates my Psionics. And to prove to you further that I am skilled with the use of Idochron, I present to you this example of my work.” Zyman reached into his golden hovering chair and drew out a red gauntlet, the kind that every Imperial soldier wore. However, this one was particularly ornate. It was lobstered, gleaming red steel, and at the center of its outer fist was lodged a shining golden gem. The young wizard handled it in his frail hands, then held it out to Eschellion.
“An Imperial gauntlet…” The general examined the finely crafted piece.
“Yes, I am close to understanding how a mind can be stored into Idochron. Thoughts and memories are in their essence simply a magical force known as Manavasis. This Manavatic force is stored in the flesh of the brain. But it can also be stored in the miniscule structures within Idochron crystals.”
“And what exactly will this gem do then?”
“It will form a bond with its wielder, as my own helm has. I crafted it with the needs of a military man in mind. It will allow the strength of your mind to permeate your body, pushing it to the limits of its capabilities. It will thus grant you greater strength and speed. Hunger, sleep, disease, none of these will be a concern to you. Not only that, the gem will grant immediate mental access to all the maps and military tomes stored within this ship’s records, those I have managed to read, which is nearly all, you will be able to access an entire library of military intelligence instantly.”
The general’s eyes widened. “How could you possibly craft this… while onboard the Dominion?”
“I brought my toolkit within my chair, and my greatest tool of all: my helm.”
“So you would grant me this gauntlet, in exchange for me granting you the position of Imperial mindflayer?”
“Yes. Allow me to take Rothan as my first experiment. Give me a laboratory in the capital and I am confident I can put all of someone’s mind, someone’s essence, into an Idochron gem. My process will be an improvement on the method used by the witch of the Black Tear. I believe I can do the same procedure without leaving the subject a mindless body in a comatose state. Imagine, General Eschellion, being able to put the knowledge from greatest minds of the Empire in gem form. All that wisdom, all that military intelligence, magical intelligence, knowledge in every field accessible to those who wield the gems. Not only this, but still more powers would be achievable through my study of Idochron and all its properties. Not only all the potential applications of Psionics which I have already described to you, but also elemental mastery, conjuring—the combination of Psionics and Idochron could bring about an entire new age to the world.”
“And all through these little crystals found deep in the earth…” Eschellion slipped his red glove off, them clamped on the red Idochron gauntlet. His eyes rounded and a white-toothed grin spread over his face. His whole body tensed and he clenched his fists. “I can feel the power you poured into this gem.” A sheen of fiery energy began subtly glowing around the gauntlet.
“No, general. That is your power. The very strength of your will made manifest. The more you open your mind to it, the greater will be its power.”
“Marvelous. Marvelous. You truly are a brilliant wizard.” He breathed deep and relaxed. “But not a smart one.”
“What—” Zyman could not finish before Eschellion snatched his helm from his head. “No! You can’t!” Zyman cried out as his chair came crashing down onto the ground with a heavy, violent thud.
“No!” I shouted and lunged at Eschellion, my hands reaching out for his throat. He was too fast. He sidestepped me and I felt his thick black leather coat slide along my arms. Before I knew what was happening, I felt something crack me in the back of the neck. I slammed into the ground so hard the breath rushed out of me. Eschellion had elbowed me, and now I felt a grinding pain on my skull as he pressed his metal boot down on me.
“General!” voices rang all around me as guards poured into the chamber.
“It’s alright, men. We were just having a simple negotiation here.”
From my lopsided vantage point on the floor, I could see an Imperial guard standing over Zyman with his spear ready to skewer him. “No!”
“Hold, soldier,” Echellion said. “Remember, our wizard guest has diplomatic immunity. And, besides, he made quite the appealing proposition. Bring both our guests to the outer deck.”
Soldiers snatched each of my arms and dragged me, along with Zyman, out of the meeting quarters and onto the main deck.
I was made to stand before the General, while Zyman was merely left there on the ground, as he had no use of his legs.
“Do you forget I represent King Albrecht? …” Zyman said, his voice cracking. “I merely made a proposition. I even offered a gift. I don’t understand…”
“What you really did was you thought you outsmarted me. That’s where you went wrong. You don’t think I could tell you were a Psionic wizard, wearing this hat of yours? I’ve seen you staring at me, longer than a horndog sailor stares at an expensive whore. Don’t you think I knew it was you attempting to read me? You’re no Skaldean. You’re a Parthan. Parthans know more than the secrets of growing fine tobacco. Their knowledge of Psionics is unmatched. I have already struck a deal with them to research its powers.”
“But the Idochron…” Zyman said weakly. The General rubbed the gem admiringly.
“You think I’m not familiar with all its possibilities? And the only mindflayer remaining on the Black Tear, away from the capital, this is by design, you fool. I do not want such a power within the capital city. So you have nothing to offer me.”
“Forgive me general, I only thought that we could both gain from a bargain....” Zyman was trembling on the ground.
“Calm yourself. I understand your position. This gauntlet of yours does seem useful. For that I will not harm you. Instead I will give you the place of highest honor on the Dominion for the rest of our voyage to the Black Tear.”
Zyman shuddered with relief. “Thank you. There is no need for that, General.”
“Nonsense. I insist! I am a fair man, so in exchange for this item I will let you ride in the most honorable place in on this great ship.”
Zyman held himself up with one hand so that his chest wasn’t flat on the ground, the other hand wiped some dirt from his face. “As you say then. I accept this, General. I meant no insult.”
“Good. Soldiers, take our guest to the prow. Tie him to the figurehead. She’s lovely company, the Goddess with her twin dragons. What higher place of honor could there be?” Eschellion shook with laughter.
“Enough, you bastard!” I roared and didn’t care that all the guards were surrounding me. I charged headlong for Eschellion. He didn’t even flinch. He coiled his fist. I saw it crackle with energy as the gauntlet came rushing toward me. The gauntlet broke my nose and sent me reeling to the ground. Pain pulsed through my skull.
“You really need to come up with better plans of attack, Wolf Blade.” The general towered over me as I lay there on the ground. Soldiers did as they were told and dragged Zyman to the prow.
I struggled to get up off the floor. “Someday…” I said with blood pouring down my nose, “I will kill you. For this, for my brother, for the two cities you destroyed.” A soldier raised a spear at me, but Eschellion motioned for him to stop.
“Hold, soldier.” The general turned to me. “Wolf Blade, you hold true hatred for me in your h
eart, don’t you? You see me as guilty of sins beyond comprehension, of slights against you which only my long anguishing death could pay for.” He seemed genuinely intrigued by his own thoughts.
I did not answer.
“Come now, Wolf Blade, just because I kick you around a bit and amuse myself with your wizard friend does not mean I bare you any ill will. On the contrary, you and I, as true warriors, as true patriots of our lands, we share a kind of brotherhood. You see, Rothan, all I did in the War of the Cold Crown, I did out of mercy. The war had begun. Whether it began or not was not under my control—even you must see this. My duty as a soldier was to win the war as quickly and decisively as possible. Had I not unleashed the Dominion’s greatest weapon upon your people, had I been merciful on the field of battle, Skald would have taken courage. It would have gone on resisting, and the war would have raged on. How many years, Wolf Blade? How many years would you have preferred the war to go on before Skald accepted the inevitable defeat by a larger, more advanced, more wealthy power? Three years? Five years? Would 100 years of war be enough for you? Two cities perished, it’s true. How many cities’ worth of dead would have piled up in all those years? A dozen cities? A score of cities?”
“You were the invaders… you could have sued for peace.”
“Oh I see, you had the moral ground. You would have us be just, peaceful, pacifists—I’m sure. Tell me, Rothan, what did the Skaldeans do to the first people of your continent, those blue-skinned people known as Azmul? What did Skaldeans do to Midlanders three centuries ago under the expansion of Maghadrad VII? What have you done to Orcs, who though savage as all hells, have just as much claim to the land of Skald as any? All people, Rothan, since the beginning of time have been warring, conquering one another, enslaving one another. And this is the right of it. It is the duty of the mighty to conquer those lesser so. In this way our kind is pushed forward, Wolf Blade. In this way we reach for greater heights, generation by generation. For how can a greater civilization be conquered by a lesser? It cannot be so, and in this way every civilization has a great fire burning under it, the fire of war, that drives it higher and higher, to new glories. Ultimately, it is the common person who reaps the benefits of this struggle of kingdoms, this struggle of ways of life. This mighty Morkhaan Empire that you are now ruled by, it will propel humanity to a new age of glory. Just as our good wizard friend alluded to, new eras of magical science, new eras of prosperity. When I am laying on my deathbed, an old man looking back, all the women, all the gold, the feasting, none of it will bring me pleasure like knowing that I brought about a new world.”
I listened to his prattle, something that a lunatic philosopher might say. My eyes found his. “You will only have a death bed… if they can piece your body together.”
He only grinned. “You are defiant to the end. This resolve is what makes your people great. But it will also be your downfall. Go now, think on all I have said.”
He gestured to some soldiers and they took me away. “Wait!” I shouted. Eschellion assented with a nod to his soldiers, and I spoke knowing I had few words to convince him. “At least have enough honor to let Zyman go. It was for my sake that he tried to convince you of his plan. Tie me up in his place. What difference does it make how I spend my last days with a sane mind? He can still be valuable to you. Spare him.”
“You probably think I came from nobility, don’t you, Rothan?” The sudden earnestness, near a friend’s, in his voice was unsettling. “The truth is my father was a cattle merchant. Believe it or not, the great General Eschellion wept as a young boy, wept at the sight of my beloved cattle friends being slaughtered. My father noticed this, of course. He taught me the value of controlling one’s emotions. And above all, he always taught me a sacrifice is worthwhile for a greater gain. This suffering of your friend’s might seem trite, petty even. But you see, Rothan, I truly hold no ill will against him. But his suffering is useful. It will not be forgotten, but rather spoken off, in taverns and in jest, how the Imperial General comforted the cripple by promising the place of honor on his ship, then tied him to the ship’s figurehead. In this way, many more who would think to betray me, who would think to outsmart me, will be discouraged. And all their suffering, their deaths, their tortures and the tedium of dealing with them will be spared. So, no. I will not untie your friend. It is only salt and wind, what could be the harm in that? Think on it this way, if he survives it he will be the stronger for it. He does not have walking legs, perhaps he will at least have sea legs once the voyage is done.” He grinned at me, full of reassuring confidence, and nodded.
“You bastard!” I struggled but the soldiers smacked the butt of their spears into my throat. I nearly choked on my own blood as I was dragged away.
5
The days blurred into one another. The darkness of my cell, the darkness of my thoughts swallowed me whole. My father’s face came to me, and I only wondered what his fate would be now that I was an enemy to King Albrecht. And what of Siv? How would she fare once it was known that the one who seated her as Jarl was now a prisoner, on his way to have his mind flayed? And, perhaps worst of all, I thought of how if I had controlled myself before Albrecht, then perhaps I would not be on this voyage at all and Zyman never would be have been tortured as he was now. It was in these nightmares, with shadows crisscrossing on my face, that a guard came for me.
He led me up the stairwell and sunlight stabbed at me as we rose. I was on the deck once more, and I felt weaker than ever. So much so that two guards had to hold me up. General Eschellion stepped to me. I could tell it was him by his polished metallic boots.
“You can’t die on us yet, Wolf Blade,” the General said. “Stand tall and look out on the horizon. It’s not every day that you enter a land the sun does not touch.”
I looked up, and through my greasy hair I saw a massive black cloud ahead of us. This cloud was no storm cloud. It was pitch black, like a great piece of charcoal that rose out from the sea. Except I could tell it was soft, a haze. “Zyman.” My voice was hoarse and words were precious. “Where is he?”
“Don’t worry, your friend is tougher than he looks. He’s where he’s been since you last saw him.”
“Release him, please.... He did you no wrong.” In my state I was not above begging any longer. The resistance in me had nearly all gone.
The general considered me for a moment. “Prisoners are normally granted a last meal. Why not a last meal with a friend? Soldiers, bring me our figurehead.” The general waved and two sailors immediately went to untie Zyman from the gigantic metal prow.
They brought him to us, let him slump to the metal surface of the deck. His robes had faded in only these past days. He lay there and summoned enough strength to lift his head.
“Zyman.” I leaned down to him.
When I caught sight of his face my words failed me. His lips were so parched that they looked like cracked desert ground. His face was red, the skin peeling.
“Welcome back, wizard,” the general said. “You have been better luck than the goddess herself. This has been the smoothest voyage in years. As a reward, I have a beautiful golden chair for you, complete with a matching hat.” Some sailors laughed, as Zyman looked to his chair and realized it was about thirty steps away.
I went to lift him up, but he held his hands out to stop me. “Don’t.” His teeth rattled, and his voice was even more hoarse than my own.
He crawled to his chair, his scrawny elbows sliding along the deck slowly, one after the other. My heart swelled with helplessness, with guilt.
When he finally made it to his chair, he clenched a hand on it. However, the chair did not lift from the ground. “My helm,” he called out.
“Men, see the wizard back to his quarters. I’ll personally bring his helm to him later on.”
“Yes, general.” Several soldiers surrounded Zyman and carried him off.
“Spare him. He has suffered more than enough.”
“Do not worry. Continuing to punish him
would serve no purpose, and so I will not order it. I am not a cruel man, however you might think it.” He walked toward the prow. “Soldiers, bring the Wolf Blade.” The soldiers pulled me up and dragged me to the front so that I was facing the horizon. In the distance were clouds darker and more ominous than any I’d ever seen against a calm, blue sky. “I wanted you to witness this. A warrior of your stature deserves to see the world. It’s unfortunate we had to fight on opposing sides, Wolf Blade. I can see the will in you. And you have a keener mind than most Skaldeans I’ve met. You would have served the Empire well. But with the help of the Lady of the Black Tear, you still will. For your wolfish condition might prove very useful to our military.”
The massive ship went on sailing toward the black clouds. They became so enormous as we neared them that they engulfed everything around us. The ship plunged into this wall of darkness. “What sorcery is this?” I muttered as we entered fully into the pillar of darkness. Here on the inside of the massive clouds, the darkness was more complete than any night. As far as I could see was a black sky and the indigo blue of the ocean.
The ship went on sailing on the horizon I saw the silhouette of an island.
“The Black Tear,” Eschellion said. “You’re one of few men who have seen it, Rothan. I hope enough of you remains to remember it.”
I barely had the strength to stand, and so perhaps I did not dread my fate any longer. In some ways it would be a mercy, to no longer think, to no longer feel. I would be like a common creature. Less so, perhaps a plant whose only desire and need is sustenance.
“Halt!” General Eschellion raised his fist and sailors echoed his command. The ship came to a slow stop, water foaming all around it. It floated there in the dark water. On the island I could see faint lights coming from some kind of structure, a tower perhaps.
Wolf Blade: Chains of the Vampire Page 4