Shadow Helm of Glory
Page 23
Dougray grinned. ‘Then you have a big task ahead of you.’
‘Indeed I have.’ Rory scratched his chin. ‘There is a place here for you...for all of you, if you wish. You could become my knights and employ that power to good use.’
An involuntary laugh came from Dougray as he shook his head. ‘Thank you, but we cannot accept; we have our own quest to complete.’
Rory turned to his queen and daughter, holding out his arms to each of them and together, they walked towards the palace. The ferals played on with their flutes and their singing grew joyous and increased in volume.
Those niggling thoughts returned to Robbie.
Belle placed a protective arm around his shoulders. ‘It is a new day worthy of celebrations, Robbie. No longer is this kingdom lost to Morgran. And, of course, another precious crystal has been found. We need only three more.’
Dougray gave his brother’s arm a gentle squeeze. ‘I could sleep for a week and I’m that hungry I may eat the first horse I see.’ He grinned in satisfaction. ‘Well done, Robbie. Well done.’
The small creatures had stopped singing and dancing and were squabbling about something. Robbie stared at them. The three older ones were arguing with the youngest, who stared at his feet, looking glum. The one with the white whiskers seemed grumpy about something.
‘Ferkle not obedient to feral laws. Him not come.’ He pointed his long, bent finger at the one he called Ferkle and the creature’s eyes filled with instant tears. His bottom lip quivered.
‘Ferkle not bad!’ the creature wailed.
Dougray stepped between them. ‘Stop this! Ferkle is our dear friend. I would not be here if it wasn’t for his courage and bravery. He is young, but he is worthy of double honour.’
Ferkle slipped his long, thin arms around Dougray’s waist and began to blubber. Dougray patted his head. The female creature nodded.
‘Time it is for Ferkle then. Join in he must.’
Ferkle lifted his head and ran his hand across his wet nose. His glistening eyes grew large and a smile broke through his sadness. He clapped his hands and hugged the female creature.
‘Thank you, Ferkle says. Brave Ferkle.’
Belle grinned. ‘Let us go to the palace. I am starving.’
The little creatures went on ahead, heralding the new day with their singing. With a sense of foreboding, Robbie trudged after Dougray and Belle. His breath caught in his throat as he noticed how bright the aura of light around the Elf girl had become. A presage of shadows weighed upon his heart. The sensation was as strong as death. Unless Morgran was stopped soon, the days would grow darker and the enduring gloom of his black kingdom would overtake them all.
Not even Rafem would be able to stop him then.
Epilogue
Ewarn stepped from behind the building and stared at the company as they walked towards the palace. Cloaked in magic, the patrolling guards had mistaken him for a passing shadow. His hand gripped his shirt as sharp pain stabbed at his heart. It was growing worse and he knew he had little time left.
The boys had made it this far. They had spunk and that impressed him. But it didn’t alter the fact that Morgran would now increase the heat. Not even he could guess what the mad sorcerer would send after them to destroy them.
He took a deep breath, grateful he still could and stared at the boy walking at the rear. His shoulders were slumped forward as if he carried the weight of the world on them. Perhaps he did. After all, he carried the knowing. At his age, he’d suspect there was something different about himself. It would confuse and frighten him. Powerful gifts required understanding and channelling in the right direction.
When he could see the company no more, Ewarn slumped back against the cold wall, his heart pounding inside his chest, hammering inside his skull. As he loosed his hold on the magic, the pain began to subside. Sweat trickled down the sides of his face. He clenched his fist.
You must survive this, for their sakes.
Yet what could two boys, an Elf girl and a dying magician accomplish? He’d seen what Morgran could do. His evil had destroyed worlds and his Black Empire had become powerful. There was now one final redeeming task for him to accomplish which he’d seen in a dream. Even with his last, dying breath, he’d fulfil the promise he’d made to the Morning Star.
He drifted back into the wall and disappeared.
Afterword
Excerpt from Wellspring of Time (Book 5)
A strangled cry tore from Robbie’s throat. His legs thrashed wildly on the bed and his arms flailed at the empty air, clawing at unseen horrors. He struggled awake, burning with exhaustion, his forehead dripping with sweat. Howling screams reverberated through his mind long after their sound faded from the room. Clapping his hands over his ears, he tried to stand, but his legs were too shaky and he collapsed against the wall. Whimpering softly, he huddled with his legs drawn up to his chest and his arms wrapped about his head.
When will it end?
Long minutes passed into what seemed like hours. He became aware of another noise that thrummed from somewhere deep below his feet, below the earth, as if the slow cogs of some distant machinery had begun its tireless, incessant motion. Robbie strained to listen, dreading what it could be. His whole body shook with the grinding, thrumming momentum.
Stop! Just stop!
But there was no time to think any further or even scream for help. A titanic explosion of earth and rubble sent him reeling backward and falling earth pelted his head and shoulders with pebbles. Too stunned to move, all he could do was huddle with his arms wrapped about his head and wait for it to end.
Without warning, a crack formed in the floor of the room, rupturing in a long, jagged fissure. Within minutes, a yawning hole gaped up at him, blacker than a starless midnight and fathomless as the Abyss. Too weak to scramble clear, Robbie clutched the bedpost with all his might, too frightened to let go in case he toppled into its inky maw and be lost forever.
From out of its cold depths rose a discordant clamour of wicked howls and shrieks. Flames jetted skyward and licked the soles of Robbie’s feet. It sent him convulsing in pain. The vile stench of burning flesh made him gag and wince. Another desperate shriek and he kicked harder in an attempt to escape the torment.
‘Dougray! Help me! Dougray!’
His screams seared his hurting eardrums as he scrambled back to reality, clawing at the bedposts with his nails. An impression formed in the back of his mind of something hateful waiting for him. A monstrous fear lurked in the shadows of his memory, just beyond sight.
Salty tears stung his eyes. He reached up, searching for the dagger beneath his pillow. Fingers latched around the hilt and he swept it out, slashing and stabbing the empty darkness around him as if it were a living thing. He yelled at it to go away. Over and over. Gasping for breath, he finally slumped back against the wall, exhausted, as he sensed the terror passing.
Cold, calculated whispers faded. But I will find you.
Clutching the dagger with one hand, Robbie groped for the light stone around his neck with the other. A moment later, its rich, golden light illumined the dark room. Robbie’s eyes scoured the space between his bed and the door. No gaping fissures, no ruin, nothing out of place. Nothing moved.
And yet—something had woken him.
But what?
Outside, the wind moaned through the palace courtyard, an eerie, wolf-like sound. It sent a shudder through him. Wiping his soaked face with his sleeve, he allowed himself to breathe again in slow, shallow breaths.
Dark floorboards, a cedar wardrobe, a table with twin, felt-backed chairs, the only pieces of furniture in the room were hulking shadows in the darkness. The twin brass handles of the wardrobes gleamed as the light passed over them. Robbie needed to see if they were as he’d left them—closed. They were. He blinked the salty sweat from his eyes and crouching motionless on the floor, he studied the vast room. Only when silence crept back did he expel a long, shuddering breath.
Just a
dream. All of it.
Once, he feared nothing; now, every tiny movement sent his heart racing. With his own eyes, he’d seen Morgranus vaporised by Dougray’s sword. That threat was gone. Killed outright. And Elimas, the witch? No one knew where she had vanished to, except that her cunning sorcery had aided in her escape. Despite soldiers scouring the palace and surrounding countryside, they had found no trace of her or her priestesses—or her daughter. Was it Morgran’s long arm that Robbie feared? Was it reaching for him and Dougray from across the vast expanse of time and space?
He rubbed his throbbing temple with his fingertips. Logic argued to and fro. The Morning Star offered his quiet counsel, too. Robbie’s room was safely tucked away in the eastern wing of the palace, a fortified building patrolled periodically by the queen’s own soldiers. Her finest, handpicked warriors, trained in warfare and stealth. He was aware of their shadowed presence during brief ventures outside his room.
Here you are safe.
His hand relaxed and the dagger came to rest against his thigh. His breathing slowed. Yes, here we’re safe. Robbie used the edge of the bed to ease himself up.
Remember Syone? How safe were you there?
Huh! Not safe at all!
A sudden noise startled him and the dagger lifted, his gaze drawn to the tall, mullioned windows. There, beating itself against the glass was a huge owl with pale, spotted wings. Its enormous, yellow eyes found his and seemed to widen. Robbie lowered the dagger and sighed, perplexed, as the owl scratched at the glass with its long claws.
Finally, it flew off and silence returned. Yet Robbie couldn’t shake the strangeness of the incident. Was it a normal owl, or something else, bespelled by King Morgran and sent to spy on him? He may never know, but it bothered him.
Minutes passed before he dared approach the window and gaze out at the night sky, half expecting to see the strange owl again. Except for a few wisps of grey clouds scudding overhead, the sky was clear and beautiful. Glittering stars huddled around a silver moon like maidens clustered around their queen.
Robbie rubbed the side of his head with his fingers. It was pounding with a dull thud, like hammer strokes on an anvil. And that familiar, metallic taste coated his tongue once more, making his stomach queasy. He knew something was wrong, but he couldn’t pinpoint what it was. He’d experienced the sensation of falling many times before in his dreams, but nothing like this. Tonight, the very bowels of the earth had swallowed him. His world had shrunk as time raced away from his control.
He walked back to the bed, and quickly dressed. He needed to walk, to clear his head and perhaps talk to the guards. Discover if they’d seen anything out of the ordinary, like owls beating themselves against windows. Sounded ludicrous. Maybe I’ll keep that to myself. Shoving the dagger into his belt, he vowed never to leave his weapon behind.
Robbie slipped out into the dim corridor. Despite his thick coat and high, leather boots which Caiwen had given him, he shivered. Once the sun went down, the palace turned into an icebox. He rubbed his hands together to warm them as he walked along the stone floor. No one was about, not that he expected to see anyone apart from the king’s soldiers on duty. It would be several hours before the servants woke to start their chores.
Robbie kept close to the wall, footsteps light, ears straining. Since crossing the forbidden mountain, Morgran’s black arm had discovered them every time, no matter where they’d fled. And the battle with Morgranus had left Robbie more than a little edgy; he was like a cat on a hot tiled roof. He had never truly felt safe anywhere since he’d left their farm. First, Queen Shara had almost eaten him in Gardenia, then the relentless black wolves had chased them halfway across Bethloria, and that black dragon had almost incinerated them in its lair. But Morgranus, the spirit of King Morgran, had been in a league of its own, above every other peril.
What would come next?
Just then, the royal library came into view. One of its twin doors stood ajar and Robbie halted. A faint noise came from inside. It lasted no more than a moment before silence settled again. Echoes clattered in Robbie’s mind, echoes of a familiar rhythm which still haunted his waking hours.
Clicketty clack. Clicketty clack.
He froze and licked his dry lips. A memory flashed through his mind, clear and strong. His breathing quickened and he cast lingering glances towards the shadows. Expectant.
That nightmare is over. The spider is dead.
He pulled his dagger from its sheath and held it in a tight grip. A shudder of disgust and loathing passed through him. Nerves stripped raw, he twisted about as soft footsteps approached.
‘Couldn’t sleep either?’
The tall, slim figure of his brother, Dougray, materialised from the shadows behind him. The dagger slipped back into its sheath.
‘Thought I’d take a look around,’ Robbie said.
Dressed in a fur-trimmed black coat with silver buttons and blond hair pulled back in a ponytail, his brother resembled one of the noblemen in the queen’s court. It was a good look, Robbie admitted.
Once the laws banishing men had been repealed, they had all slunk back into the kingdom and taken up their former offices again. Women were forced to resume loveless marriages. A mixture of scepticism and fragile disbelief still filled the subjects of Dwellinfrey, but few spoke of their shameful banishment. Robbie wasn’t certain any of it would work out, but still, the queen was trying to get life back to normal.
Elimas had weaselled into the lives of too many of her subjects and left too many poisoned hearts. They needed time to heal, yet the Morning Star had shown him how little time remained. The smooth flowing water clocks had turned to mud.
A sober grin formed on Dougray’s lips. ‘I don’t mind telling you I’ll be glad to leave this place. I’ve slept better in the wilds than behind these walls. There’s something about this place—’
‘I’ve felt it too. It’s...it’s Elimas’s presence, that’s what it is.’
A twitch formed at the corner of Dougray’s mouth as he glanced around. ‘Sometimes I feel as if I’m being watched. Perhaps it is her as you say...or maybe it’s something else entirely.’
Robbie’s skin crawled. ‘Maybe we could leave this place and finish our own quest. We’ve been here long enough.’
‘We will—’
A noise from the library made Dougray turn. Robbie noticed a pale glow as if from a lamp flickering on the walls. Someone was moving about inside. His brother frowned.
‘Bit late for Ranulf to still be working.’
Robbie nodded and followed him to the library door. The sound of books tumbling from a shelf and a weak cry came from someone—maybe Ranulf, the old Keeper of Words. As they neared, the light was extinguished. Uneasiness stole through Robbie. He grasped Dougray’s arm.
‘We should call the guards.’
‘Ranulf could be hurt. We can’t live in fear forever, Robbie. We won’t be long.’
He halted inside the doorway and shone his light stone about. Countless leather-bound tomes lined long rows of shelves in a vast room. Ranulf took care of the ancient writings for the queen. Robbie sniffed the dust-laden air.
‘Ranulf, are you in here?’ Dougray’s call was met with silence.
All of a sudden, the hairs on the back of Robbie’s neck prickled. They were not alone.
About the Author
Author Note
IF YOU’VE ENJOYED THIS story from the mythical lands of Bethloria, why not leave a fair and honest review on Amazon, Goodreads and/or your favourite reviewing site.
Writing reviews (no matter how short), helps support authors to keep on creating and publishing the stories you enjoy.
You can also follow me on the following links:
Amazon:https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B07ZBTVVX4
Goodreads:https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/19864833.Elizabeth_Klein
Thank you!
bsp;