Karsis held his finger to his lips, then stood up and pulled out a harp. Playing lightly he turned to the group and crossed his legs in mid air, floating silently. "So tell us Rhoe, tell us the story and when you are done, someone else can take a turn at what has befallen them, and so on until the sun rises, or there are no more stories left."
"That's no fair Karsis, you never run out of stories." Caerlyn stuck her tongue out at the bard and everyone laughed.
"Well I have been around you know." He looked at Rhoe then and prompted him to start.
Rhoe described the entire experience, and remembered to ask his questions, which Karsis answered with 'Another time young one', then it was Graf's turn. They traded stories and caught each other up and laughed at each other's jokes. Karsis watched everyone, including Rhoe and couldn't help but smile. Using Ether to break a controlled mind was tricky, just as he feared, but he had done it nonetheless. Now there was something else nagging at him though. He watched the way the young monk was staring at Liss when not talking, and for the first time, Karsis thought that it wasn't wholly natural. It seemed that when they were alone, they were drawn to each other, but if distracted, they seemed to forget that connection for a time. He wasn't positive, it would take more time to study them, but it was something he definitely was going to keep an eye on. Karsis sat back and watched the clouds above, fighting to keep the moon away from lighting the dark fields around them. He should tell Rhoe that his parents were probably at the castle, but he just couldn't bring himself to do that. He wanted to see the young boys face when he saw them, he wanted him to feel that joy and soar in it, because once they got to the castle, his world was going to turn upside down.
Dragon's Lair, Northern Belt Mountains
He tried to get air in his lungs again and shook with the pain of inhaling. His ribs were trying to heal, but they weren't in the right spots. His ribs were broken, almost all of them, as were his legs, and one arm. Dar'Krist focused his mind once more and tried to draw power from the stone around him once more. He had been trying to do this for days, but he had already drawn most of it when he fought the dragon, and it needed time to replenish itself. Just like the times before, he got nothing. He tried to shift the rocks around him again with his good arm, but there was just too much on top of him. Only his great strength had kept him alive at all, with this much weight crushing down on him.
He had moved past anger, which was a long phase, once he had regained consciousness. Now he was on to the 'How the hells am I going to get free' phase. He didn't even know how much time had passed, as the darkness was almost complete, buried under the fallen cliff face. He really wished that rock decayed like other things, then this wouldn't have been a problem, but stone and earth just weren't affected by his power the same way as other things were. Then he felt it. A slow current coming up from the depths of the bedrock. He tried to smile, but it ended up in a coughing fit as he inhaled some rock dust accidentally. He counted to one-hundred then drew deep again, pulling what he just felt into him. Strength flooded him and he pushed up with his good arm. It just wasn't enough. Well, this is going to hurt, It's a good thing I heal fast. He thought as he resigned himself to the pain that was coming.
Dar'Krist braced himself and used his broken arm as a wedge and pushed up with his shoulder as he shoved again with his other arm. He screamed as he pushed, not stopping, even when he heard the bone crack again in his damaged arm. The rocks started to move, and smaller pieces rained down on him as one of the big pieces rolled away. He couldn't get a good breath with his ribs the way they were, but as he straightened up on his broken legs, his ribs seemed to pop back into place.
Sunlight streamed in and his eyes burned at the glorious sight. His head was free, and with his good arm he shoved away the rocks to his side. With a final scream, he burst out of his stone tomb and rolled to the ground, breathing in the dirt and dust. He hoped that the dragon suffered in agony, though he had to admit that was a good move. He lay there, for how long he didn't know, and finally his bones knitted together enough for him to try to stand. he was weak, and needed to rest, but he had to find somewhere else, this sun was too hot, even this high up in the mountains.
He crawled to a huge cave, probably where that dragon laired, and sat down to think. His arrogance notwithstanding, it was starting to feel like someone else had it out for him. For him to be outsmarted, outmaneuvered, and just plain beaten again and again was unheard of. The Gods were not allowed to meddle in the affairs of mortals, even the Incarnations, but that was the only thing that he could come up with. Unless I'm just slipping, but this many times doesn't feel like coincidence anymore. His thoughts were troubled, but it was something to think about anyway. Once he was fully healed, he would continue his pilgrimage back to civilization, and then woe to anyone who crossed his path, Gods or no Gods be damned
Chapter Six: All Paths Lead In
The hallways were bustling with warriors, both coming and going. Regular rounds and patrols happened here like clockwork because of Keragan Hold's proximity to the borders of G'harr. Janna made her way to the main council room where the Lord held all his audiences, excited to play for the Lord Storn Keragan himself. She had of course heard of the Champions of Everknight, been following their stories for decades until they retired, but had never met the stoic woodsman. She entered the hall and stopped, waiting for a page or chamberlain to announce her. A man leaned over with a parchment and quill and stared at her, waiting for her to tell him her name and title if any. She knew the drill. Hells below she had invented the drill. "Janna Suris, Master bard and traveler extraordinaire." She dipped and curtsied flashing the man with her winning smile, and got a bland look back in return.
The man turned and signaled to the small boy to his right and the child played a trilling tune on a harp to get the attention of the room. Everyone pretty much ignored it. "Your Lord, Janna Suris, Master bard and traveler extraordinaire, is here to meet with you." The man bowed deep and then retreated back to his corner.
Janna sighed. No one liked the pomp and flair of the old days anymore. She ignored the fact that she had failed to flatter the chamberlain and strutted her stuff to the middle of the floor. People were talking to the Lord and he was trying to answer them one at a time. She thought about which instrument would best suit her in this situation, and chose the flute. Janna pulled a small one out of her pack and played a shrill note to get everyone's attention. The room fell silent as they all stopped as one and stared at her."That's better." She announced, then she was silenced by the Lord himself as he pointed to a bench and went back to answering someone else. She couldn't believe what was happening. She walked to the bench and sat, dumbfounded.
"You here to see the Lord Storn too?" The man was dressed like a guard, but didn't have the colors of the hold. Each hold sported colors of the ruling Lord, just to say that they were his men. "Were here to see him too, my names Dren, and this here is Stard." The other man nodded his head, but his stare was directed more towards her chest. Dren elbowed the man in the side and he flushed, lifting his eyes.
She giggled, then batted her eyes. this was more like it. "Yes, and hopefully play for him as well. My name is Janna and I was hoping that they had nightly gatherings here." She looked around surreptitiously to see if the Lord was still talking while keeping her attention on these two guards. "You're not from around here are you?"
"No miss, we're from up north. Norhil Hold." Stard said, fighting to regain his failing composure. It was those piercing green eyes that did it. Not that he was drawn to this woman, but her eyes were intense. "We went to Everknight when they evacuated the north, but the King wanted a message delivered, so we were drafted."
"Volunteered."
"Yes Dren, we volunteered, you keep thinking that." Stard smiled at his old friend, then smacked him in the arm.
"Why in all of the heavens did they evacuate?" This was serious. Nothing like this had happened since they built those Holds. This bespoke of grim tidings ind
eed. It could also make a brilliant song as well. "Was it a dragon?"
"No miss. You mean you haven't heard?" Dren swallowed before continuing. He didn't like to remember that day. He could still hear that man's voice over the flames. He shivered but kept going. "It was some guy, black cloak, very powerful. He came right up to the hold and our Lord fought him. We tricked him and he ran down the road, but the King wanted everyone pulled in just in case." The woman looked faint, and she was white as a ghost. "You ok miss?"
Janna couldn't breathe. It sounded like an elf, and a wizard at that. This was beyond bad. She would've rather have had it be a dragon......maybe two. They had to be mistaken. If an elf was seen walking around again, that would mean that they were coming back to subjugate humanity. "Ok, so that's bad. Let's forget that for a minute..."
"Or forever"
"Yes, that too." She was starting to like these two. She focused on the Lord and shook her head. "So what do I need to know about the Lord Keragan? He seems like a different kind of man than I'm used to." That was an understatement.
Dren cleared his throat and leaned back. "Well, that there is a sad tale. Most folks don't know it cause it was kept out of the stories that the bards passed around, but that gruff man used to be the happiest man in the land." Dren pulled out a small pipe and packed it with a tiny pouch of black leaf. "See, he was with this beautiful woman when he was in the Companions of Everknight. They had a cottage in a small town near Everknight, and he would come home to her after an adventure and bring he trinkets." Dren took a puff and looked at Stard.
"Yeah, then one day he comes home and she's different, like weird." Stard continued for his friend. He looked down at his feet, trying to think of what he would do in the Lord's shoes. He hated this story. "He gives her a silver necklace, and it burns her hand. He just stands there trying to think of any other explanation.......and she's getting angry."
Janna closed her eyes. She had never heard this, they were right about that, and she already knew where this story was going. She looked up at the Lord again and knew what she was dealing with. She waved them to continue anyways, you just never stopped a story, never.
Dren blew out a ring of dark smoke, then sat forward. "You see, he knew that she wasn't her anymore. It could only be one thing that could look like someone else and be burned with silver. A Gnome. No one knows when she was taken, or what it did with her body, but the story goes that Storn killed her himself as she begged him to love her forever in a cackling voice."
Janna sighed at the sad tale and looked over at the Lord Storn and saw him with new eyes. He was dressed casually, a simple dark green cloak over his white shirt and woolen breeches. A stark contrast to his very dark skin. His black hair and beard were trimmed but not lavishly so like some lords she had seen, and there were no frills in his court. The table that he and his councilors were seated at was elevated from the floor so as to seem above everyone, but he didn't look down at them, per se. This was a man of action to be certain. She looked back at the two men and smiled, tiredly. She didn't expect this when she thought to come here. "Thank you gentlemen, it is not every day that a bard can be entertained the way that I have been." Sadly, she was sincere at this.
"No problem miss, oh and it looks like we're up. If you don't mind miss." Dren and Stard got up and bowed to her and went forward to greet the Lord. Their walk was slow, not knowing what to expect from the dour man at the high table.
"Ok men, what does my King wish to tell me this time." Storn tried to smile to break the mood of the room, but it was so hard these days. He had been arguing with merchants from G'harr for what seemed like forever, and he just wanted to drink quietly in his room. These two, and that pretty bard were the last ones of the evening, what could go wrong.
"Well your Lord, King Arian sends the message that the people of the holds are to be evacuated to the city as soon as you can. The north has fallen and..." And that's as far as they got.
"What!?" Storn stood up so fast that the table rocked and almost went over. He wasn't a big man, compared to the King and Gareth, but he stood over five feet and was well muscled. His attributes were his keen eyes and quick thinking.
"What does he think he's doing? We can't abandon the hold, who would.....where..." He stomped off and came around the front to glare at the two men face to face. he needed to see into their eyes, needed to feel their breath to see what was going on. "What are your names men?" He took a calming breath and exhaled.
Dren stood a little straighter, Arian had told him what to expect, and this was only the tip of it all. "My name is Dren sir, and this is Stard. We were Norhil hold guards sir, when it was evacuated." There was a slight tremble in his voice as he spoke.
"All right then. Now tell me what in all the Hells caused you to flee." He was getting angry, none of this made any sense. Between Tanan and Gareth, never mind that spitfire Tierra, they should've been able to handle just about anything, dragon included.
"You mean you didn't get the message that Trost sent over two tendays ago?" Stard blurted out. The King assumed that Storn had gotten the message and just ignored it out of stubbornness, but it seemed that the Lord had no idea what was going on.
"What message? Trost hasn't sent word of anything. All right hold on." He turned to the assembled court and bellowed. "Court's done, go start drinking and leave us alone!" He took another deep breath or five as the people filed out, murmuring in hushed tones. He couldn't care less what they were saying. "Now, let's go to my chambers and you can start from the beginning. I feel like Karsis right now. He always says he is missing something and I think I am, and I bet it's going to be a long night of hard drinking to wrap my head around this one." He started to lead them away, but noticed that the bard was still there. "You too missy, time to go."
"Begging pardon Lord Storn, but I've travelled quite a ways to see you and I'm not the type of girl to take no for an answer." Janna smiled and slid behind Dren as if she belonged with them. She had been doing this for decades and was an old pro.
"Argh, fine. Keep up and be silent until I know what is going on, my head feel like someone dropped a small castle on it...twice."
They filled in and sat quietly, not wanting to irritate the Lord more than he was already. He shut the door behind them and walked around to the his desk, sitting in silence. He drummed his fingers for a couple of minutes, then looked up at them with eyes that said they had better tell him what he wanted or else. "All right, so Tell me what in the Hells is going on."
Stard started, retelling the story as they had heard it from Lord Tanan. Dren filled in here and there, mainly points that Stard was missing, and then they got to the part where Lord Tanan fought the dark haired man and Storn crept closer, his hands clenching and unclenching, trying to work through an anger at something he could do nothing about. "Then we went out, after the man took off once more, and all we found was the Lord's cloak."
"So. From what you have told me this man was powerful." He was trying to digest this news. Tanan dead, he just couldn't believe it. Of all the members of his old company, he would've thought that self sacrifice would be Arian's thing. "Well I'm sure that Arian will bring him to heel, now for the bad news." The Lord sat back and pulled a piece of parchment out of his desk drawer. "This was taken from a merchant just down the road. He was stopped coming out of G'harr and was hung for treason. Storn's expression told everyone in the room that there was no greater crime to him at this moment.
"It is a writ from someone we thought dead long ago, and if it is authentic, then we are all in some serious trouble." He passed it to the bard as she came around, interest in the parchment alight on her very beautiful face. He continued as she read, "I was hoping to get that to King Arian as soon as possible, but I don't know who I can trust anymore. It seems we uncover another traitor every tenday in the hold."
"This can't be true!" Janna burst out, finishing the letter. She had gone white and let the parchment fall from listless hands. She couldn't believe the words
that she had read. "Please tell me this is a joke?"
"I'm afraid not." Storn saw the confused looks on the guards and smiled, "It basically says that the merchant is to infiltrate the hold here and slay me, but that's not the surprise." He handed the parchment to Dren and looked on at Stard as his friend read it.
"No."
"What?" Stard was getting impatient now, the anxiety in the room was so heavy that it could've crushed his foot.
Dren shook as he held the page. He looked at his friend and tried to tell him, but his mouth was so dry. "It's signed Madam G'harr."
Stard didn't understand. "So...she's bad?" He knew he should've pain more attention to history, he was missing something, and it seemed bad.
"Madam Ill'lyth G'harr was the original elven matron who taught her human lover magic." Janna recited, her thoughts however, went somewhere else when she spoke of this story. She didn't even bother with music. "Back when the humans were slaves, there was one who broke the rules and taught her human lover the ways of elven magic, she even started teaching their children, but then they were banished. She went south with what followers she could gather to her cause and started the land of G'harr. This of course started the second great war, but that's not where this gets scary. She was a vicious woman, powerful in the art and wicked with it. She was slain long ago by one of the last elves seen, and her body burned in the square of G'harr's capitol city." Janna sat down cross-legged on the floor, all strength fleeing her body. She knew how bad this really was.
"All right, so powerful elven woman rules G'harr, isn't that what we already have anyway with the Sorcerer King?" Stard knew that much at least. The Sorcerer King of G'harr was said to be the most powerful sorcerer there was.
The Darkness Within (A Lythinall Novel) (Book 2) Page 12