Drasmyr (Prequel: From the Ashes of Ruin)

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Drasmyr (Prequel: From the Ashes of Ruin) Page 45

by Matthew D. Ryan

Chapter Twenty-Three

  Regecon slipped his orange-red robes from about his shoulders and draped them over a chair. Dressed in only his thin undergarments, he strolled to the bedroom window. Outside, the dark of night was giving way to the grey of approaching dawn. He could already see the harbor in the distance, a deeper darkness in the early morn. Between the waters and himself, the streets of Drisdak lay covered by a thin coating of snow. Even as he watched, the white flurries continued to fall foretelling a gloomy morning, one he would be glad to miss.

  Regecon gave a final survey of the city streets, then swung the shutters closed and twisted the lock in place. He turned, sighing wearily, and headed toward the warmth of his bed. He had only gone two steps when he heard a knock on his door. The guild master paused several paces from his bed, glanced once toward the doorway, then returned his gaze to the mattress beckoning to him from beneath its covers. He let out an exhausted sigh. He’d been up all night in meetings and discussions, and now desperately needed his sleep.

  There was another knock.

  Regecon turned and regathered his robes. Once fully dressed, he moved toward the door. The troubles of the world did not wait for the weary. As the guild master, he had a duty to attend to.

  The knock started again, this time echoed by an urgent voice. “Guild Master Regecon, Guild Master Regecon! Please wake up! It is important.”

  Regecon grunted in irritation, then opened the door. In the hallway in front of him, one of the night watchmen stood, dressed in chain armor, with a sword at his side and a helm on his head, his pale face accentuated by eyes full of fear. “I am awake, Guardsman. What is the problem?”

  “I’m sorry, sir,” the man said, “but there’s been a murder. Two, actually.”

  Regecon’s irritation vanished instantly and all thought of sleep fled from his mind. “Take me to them.”

  Without a word, the guard nodded and turned away. Regecon followed with steady even steps. A murder. Two, in fact. What in the blazes is going on? he thought. Curses, but this is a guild of wizards! One can not just walk in and slay men at random!

  The guard rounded a corner up ahead and Regecon followed, his thoughts growing grimmer by the moment. More men dead. Did they have families? Friends? How much blood would Regecon see before all this was over? He was certain the murders were connected to the earlier fire; they were just too close in time and he had a feeling in his bones. He knew if Morcallenon did another divining, he’d no doubt find nothing but more black time.

  Regecon stopped when he saw the first of the bodies, a guardsman with his head crushed. Not just his head, the helm as well. Whatever had done such a thing possessed enormous strength. He bent down to examine the man’s face to see if he could discern his identity, but saw nothing but a bloody, unrecognizable mass of gore. Disgusted, he turned away.

  “You said there was another?”

  “Yes, sir. Over here.”

  The guard led him further down the hall, around another bend, to still another corner but one with a door on the side as well. Slumped in the hallway another guardsman lay with a small bloody object covered by thin strands of flesh resting a short distance away. From the look of the corpse and the gaping hole in its neck, Regecon guessed the object was the remains of the man’s throat. What could do this? he thought. Something undead, no doubt. But what?

  Two dead guardsmen, killed less than a hundred feet from each other in the same hallway. Perhaps he’d have to consider putting some of the mages on guard duty. With magic on their side, they ought to be able to handle themselves a little better than a man with a sword, especially if undead were involved.

  Regecon opened the door.

  “By the Sickle!” the guardsman beside him swore.

  On the floor before Regecon, Durek lay. A student of Ambrisia’s due for testing, the man was everything but a mage in title. Be that as it may, whatever had killed him did not seem to have taken notice.

 

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