“All seems well,” Kirshawe from House Crey stated to all who were present. “Why would we endanger ourselves continuing such a venture? We have prospered. Give us more time to prepare.”
“It is the stillness before the tempest you feel, Kirshawe. Asmeodai is preparing a strike to wipe out any resistance,” Nabbe of House Merclogh retorted. “Before he completes his tunnel to Siochanta Realm.”
Across the long table, Ser Alric, the Delivar, watched the silver bearded man take a puff of his pipe and blew smoke rings above his head. Beneath his bushy eyebrows, his aged face was lined with wisdom that the years he had lived had availed to him.
The Orimons rescued from Asmeodai’s torture had recovered. Shortly afterwards, a resistance, known as Rentanga, had been formed against the evil that controlled their realm. In the shadows, they gathered and plotted to regain what had been lost.
The fight had gone slowly.
Years had passed.
Rentanga began with the unification of the great houses of Witheleghean, the elves, fairies, and dwarves. Most had been thankful to have survived the onslaught.
Sangrey had not been false in his assertion of which Orimons to save. Among the Wise, the houses that were saved held strong magic.
Included in those saved during the rescue from Asmeodai’s the Highborn Chamber had been seven houses: Crey, Merclogh, Okeden, Redferne, Hallstude, Wardle, and Dinge.
Each held magic needed to fight the black magic that controlled their land.
The fear of Asmeodai finding their hiding place had gradually faded. Their courage returned.
Yet, through the years, the fairies and dwarves had fallen away from Rentanga. The fairies hid deep within the depths of the Charmed Woods. Whereas, the dwarves fled to the far recesses of the Maunga Mountains.
Their cowardice hurt, but had not halted Rentanga.
Secret missions into the realm had gained members, mostly vassals hiding from Asmeodai’s eye. Unfortunately, none had magic.
Carefully chosen battles had been won. Confidence had grown within the ranks among all the allies.
Alric was worried about the alliance’s approach to the victories.
“The Parkua of Death has to be stopped if there is any chance of reclaiming Witheleghe.” Alric stared at Kirshawe. “It is not up for debate.”
“Tell me again why it is you that gives us orders,” Wardle demanded. Extending his hand, a fireball appeared. “You are not a Flandigana, nor have any connection to any.”
“Extinguish your flame, Wardle,” Nabbe said, unblinking. “You have no intention of using your power against Ser Alric or any of us.”
Alric pushed back on his chair and stood. Despite Nabbe using his ability to sense that Wardle would not throw the fire in his hand, Alric recognized that Wardle was not the only one that felt he was not worthy to lead.
“Lest I remind you that it was I that took you out of the Highborn Chamber. It is I that keep you safe,” Alric said blithely. “I lead only until the children return.”
“The children?” Dinge scoffed. “They are not children now, even if they aren’t dead.”
“Faith needs to be held,” Alric countered. “I only hold us together until the rightful Flandigana claims the throne.”
“You say that now,” Kirshawe’s nostrils flared. “You already hold power. Has not your wife claimed to be the Elfin Queen? How do we know you will not seek to keep control once Asmeodai is gone?”
“It is not the elves that should be a concern. They stand beside us and have not faltered.”
Alric wanted to add unlike the fairies and dwarves. Bae had said that fear of the looming battle had sent them into hiding.
Nabbe rose. Extending his hand to silence the other Orimons, he said, “Look at where we live. Tuhinga O Mua is here because of Ser Alric. Do not forget. We cannot fight amongst ourselves.”
“I agree with Nabbe. This conversation is for another day,” Hallstude interceded. “There is no realm to rule. Because we have won a few battles does not mean we have defeated Asmeodai.”
“There will be no people to rule if you believe we can stop Asmeodai from his tunnel. It is damn foolishness that will see us all killed.”
A shadow of disquiet fell as Kirshawe’s words echoed within the cavern. Alric saw on the faces of the others that they too feared Asmeodai’s wrath.
There was nothing Alric could say to allay their fears.
Instead, Alric said, “Fear needs to be dead to us. If not, it will rule us and be our downfall.”
“It is easily said, harder to accomplish. You have not seen your family torture and killed in the most horrific manner,” Redferne broke his silence. “It is not our lives that have us concerned, Ser Alric.”
“What harm could come from living peacefully within Tuhinga O Mua?” Hallstude asked. “Surely if we could not ask for more.”
Alric shook his head. “My magic will not hold forever. I have held it in place for more than a decade. I feel the drain.”
“Even the most powerful magic has limits,” Nabbe said. “We are not foolish enough to believe otherwise.”
“Nor can we hide forever.” Alric saw no reason not to cut to the heart of the matter. “We cannot hide as the dwarves and fairies. We are all that stands between Asmeodai and total annihilation.
“We have no choice. Either we work together to stop Asmeodai or perish.”
* * * *
The light of the setting sun glowed over Tuhinga O Mua, while nature’s noises filled the air. Bubbling water of the underground springs. Birds sang, giving way to a wholesome peace.
Alric took strength in the scene before him.
He often climbed over the rocks to the top of the cavern’s entrance. From this view, he could see for miles.
Here he was able to think.
In truth, he could understand the others taking a false sense of security within Tuhinga O Mua. Is it not what he himself strove for his family and his descendants to live within… this tranquility?
Yet, he knew the darkness had grown in the world outside. Already his life before the Darkening seemed nothing more than memories of a troubled dream.
Below him, the sound of children’s laughter rang out over the dale. He watched the young ones run through the clover, falling, and tumbling into each other.
He smiled at the sight of his own young daughter trying to keep up with the older ones. Thea had been born almost two years ago. His heart had grown on that day.
Thea giggled as Shalendra, Sae’s youngest child, picked her up and swung the little girl in the air. Butterflies emerged in the wake of his daughter.
His daughter was much like her mother, strong in the ways of elves. His daughter’s hair was white as snow. Her eyes were an ever-changing color, dependent upon the weather. They glittered with the stars. Her presence had enhanced Tuhinga O Mua, the reason why she now lived here in the caverns.
Bae had made a great sacrifice. She allowed her only child to live among men so they could survive.
At Thea’s birth, Bae gave the care of their daughter to Sae, who had raised many children of her own. Bae had never been blessed until their union.
Sae lived once more at Tuhinga O Mua along with Gormar, Shalendra, and her other eight children and their families. The pull upon her magic had lessened.
Tuhinga O Mua thrived.
“Thea has grown since last I saw her.”
Alric watched his brother walk up the trail in a brown cape embroider with a single yellow rose. Over his mail, Ewan wore the light yellow Sexton surcoat with his sword hanging in a sheath about his waist.
Unlike his brother, Alric wore Flandigana purple with their sigil of a fierce fleogan, feeling he had sworn to uphold the Flandigana rule as a squire. He held to his word. A reminder to all in his belief that Flandigana would once more rule.
Ewan had recovered from being under Asmeodai’s spell that had placed him in the Highborn Chamber. He had gained weight and now was almost the statue o
f Alric with firm muscle tone.
His toasted brown hair had regained its shine along with his blue eyes. He had cut it like Alric, wearing his hair loose down to his shoulder.
“As it was for me,” Alric clasped his brother’s hand. “I live for the day that I can live with my family under one roof.”
“I wish nothing more for you,” Ewan said. “How did the Orimon Council go?”
Alric frowned. “Most do not listen. They choose instead to hope that Asmeodai will turn his eye away from us if we leave him alone.”
“It is our nature.”
“They must change,” Alric insisted emphatically. “The battles we have chosen have been strategic. We have been the aggressor, using our magic to full advantage. Yet, these clashes have yielded nothing, except a few dead Arachnidans and to anger Asmeodai.”
“The skirmishes have hid your true intent.”
“Digging within the rubble of the city to intercept the Parkua of Death,” Alric said as to himself. “We cannot let Asmeodai reach the physical barrier between our realm and Siochanta.”
“You place too much trust in the other Orimons. Time does not allow for anything except the truth,” Ewan replied. “In the past, Orimons used their power without fear. There are those that have no heart for this battle.”
Alric realized Ewan told the truth. They are bloody idiots, Alric thought. “Tell me, Brother, what am I to do? They are right, I have no right to dictate to them.”
“You are wrong,” Ewan insisted. “You saved us.”
“It would seem some have forgotten.”
Ewan shook his head. “Nabbe says it is only Kirshawe and Wardle that have issues, believing you are from a minor house. The brashness of those Orimons only reiterated the reason why King Darius had need of Vaellyn magic. It is not only you that has faced the obstinacy of Orimons.”
“I have no desire to rule,” Alric stated vehemently. “Only survive.”
Alric watched Ewan rub his stubble chin. He realized Ewan wanted to say more.
“Ewan, I cannot trust many, but in you I do. What are you holding back from me?”
“It is not me that you need to ask that question, but Nabbe.”
Nabbe’s Wisdom
The brilliant white crystal reflected the sunlight of the dawn to brighten the vast throne room. The tall, wide windows allowed entrance to the light, which danced upon the marble floors.
There had been no darkness within Mazava, not even at night.
After sunset, a thousand light crystals would light the dark, which were mirrored by the walls made of thick rock crystal. An elegant crystal chandelier was centered in the middle of the chamber. The richly colored tapestries hung from the walls depicting the peace within the realm, vivid waterfalls, rolling, green hills, and majestic sunsets over Meera Bay.
On the back wall under a purple velvet canopy trimmed in gold sat a large, high-back chair, gold plaited. The cushion was covered in the same purple velvet. To its side, a smaller gold plaited high back chair.
Both sat on a dais with two steps leading up to the throne.
Alric had seen the throne room many times being the squire to Prince Halmir. King Darius held his formal audiences, receptions and dancing and balls within these walls.
In truth, King Darius rarely sat upon his throne. Instead, he preferred to stand in front of his people and greeted them eye to eye.
Today, the king was not within the throne room. Damn Asmeodai.
Yet, all Alric saw before him wasn’t real.
This was an illusion.
Okeden of House Cummins had created the scene at the request of Nabbe. The elderly lady had lost all of her family during the Darkening.
She had seen her husband and sons killed in front of her eyes. She had ordered her grandchildren to go into hiding. It was her hope that they were out there somewhere…far away from Asmeodai.
“They are Cummins, crafty and shrewd. The boys would have known to go underground. The girls would have kept them quiet on who they are.”
Alric did nothing to dispense her hope. Though, he had doubts any of her family had lived.
When he had been searching for survivors after the awakening of the Orimons, he had seen her home, Bay Side. The manor had been burnt to the ground and the wells poisoned as had all the estates of the major Orimons.
Asmeodai seemed determined to devastate Witheleghe and turn the realm into a desert as Arachnida was.
Okeden was correct in her assessment of House Cummins. They were renowned for their intelligence. In all probability, she was well aware of the odds.
It had not stopped her resilience. Her ability to create images that weren’t there had done much for Rentanga.
Her illusions had kept the Arachnidan Night Raiders away from Rentanga’s quest to intersect Asmeodai’s tunnel.
Alric saw Nabbe emerge from behind the throne. The silver beard man walked with one hand curled about his wooden staff.
“I have missed my dear friend, King Darius,” Nabbe said. “I was there the moment Asmeodai drove his knife into the king.”
Sad-eyed, Nabbe pointed to a spot in front of the throne. “The wizard appeared out of nowhere. There was no warning.”
“That is what was told.”
Alric eyed Nabbe suspiciously. Why has he brought me here? I know how King Darius died. What is so important to have gone to this length?
Nabbe looked around the throne room. His face gazed over in remembrance of the day. “It happened so fast. Asmeodai stood over the king, fresh blood dripping from his dagger. Then…they came.”
“Who?” Alric found himself asking.
“The Arachnidans.”
Before him, Alric saw.
Blood oozed over the marble floor. King Darius lay dead. Dressed in a long dark robe, a tall, dark hooded man walked over the lifeless body.
Throwing back his hood, Alric saw clear the face of Asmeodai. Pox-scarred with thick black hair, he wore a patch over his left eye. A long thick scar carried down the right side of his cheek.
Asmeodai waved his hand in the air.
Immediately, the assailants materialized. All dressed in the same black robes, both men and women. There must have been twenty…twenty-five.
All around Alric, chaos ensued. The Arachnidans quickly sliced the throats of the ladies and lords of court fell. Queen Odelia screamed as one Arachnidan woman grabbed the queen. The assailant wasted no time swiping his knife across the queen’s throat.
Queen Odelia fell dead.
Then, there was no movement.
Most Withelegheans lay dead. A few cowered in the corner of the throne room.
Alric recognized Nabbe lying unconscious. Okeden sat on the floor holding a man in her lap weeping.
Then, Alric saw.
Standing behind Asmeodai, an elfin…there was no mistaken the pointy ears, long face and white robes. Alric had never seen him before, but then another moved to his side.
That one he recognized.
His wife
It was Bae.
* * * *
“It cannot be!” Alric said, shocked. “What kind of game are you playing upon me? Okeden cannot project the past.”
“I play no game. Okeden created an illusion of her remembrance.” Nabbe gestured to Okeden. The cavernous chamber became as it was in truth, the Orimon Council room. “Sit, Ser Alric. We will explain.”
Alric watched as Ewan entered. His look worried when Sae followed, as well as it might be. He had been blindsided.
“This is hard, Ser Alric. You are the reason we all stand free of Asmeodai,” Nabbe said softly. “But we would do you an injustice if we do not tell you what we believe.”
“Do not dare tell me that you are afraid of Bae! She is the reason…”
“That I fear,” Sae finished Alric’s words. She moved over to his side. “We have been friends for a long time. Trust me now when I say that I am afraid of Bae. So much so, I fear for my family, Thea, and you.”
“B
ae is your sister,” Alric replied. “How could you say such a horrible thing?”
“I believe you hold doubts yourself, my friend,” Sae said grimly. “Bae strove to be more than one of the Augur Council. She confessed to you that she kept the elves from warning King Darius of the invasion. Now, we have come to believe she was part of it.”
Alric seethed. “What madness is this? Bae helped save the Orimons… Ewan. Tuhinga O Mua thrives because of her.”
Sae fell to her knees and took Alric’s hands in hers. “No, my friend. Bae has done what she deemed necessary to cover her actions.”
“She is my wife.”
“Bae has hid her movements from you.”
Alric shook his head. “She could not have hid this.”
Shaking her head, Sae said plaintively, “You share a child. Thea is yours without doubt, but why would Bae leave her here with me? No elfin mother gives up her child to another to raise, not even her sister.”
“You left your children to come here,” Alric countered. “You made a great sacrifice as Bae has done to lay the ground work for our resistance.”
“My youngest was not an infant. Shalendra was over a hundred. Moreover, my husband, Gormar, was there to raise my children in the elfin ways.”
She said say no more. Two emerged within the sanction chamber: Prince Yarro and Brokk of Ironwell.
A long silence ensued.
“I tell you true I feel their story is sincere,” Nabbe broke the hush. “Bae banished Prince Yarro and Brokk. The fairies and dwarves did not turn their backs on us.”
“No..no—”
“Ser Alric, I am no coward. I honored our commitment,” Yarro said. “Bae came with me back to my castle to talk with my advisors. I know not what she did, but once she left, I could not venture back…none of my race could, until the moon went blue. Then I was able to break through. ”
“The same as I,” Brokk stated.
“Even if what you say was true, Bae hasn’t the magic,” Alric protested.
“She does not work alone,” Nabbe said. “Think, Ser Alric. Remember when you rescued the Orimons…whom did she save?”
The Path Now Turned (The Three Realms Book 2) Page 16