“There are none in Uriasz,” said Philon. “The bloodline of the two Houses is too unstable and we have not apprenticed any since the Ban.” Pausing, he considered the three adventurers, about to say more when the sound of a gong echoed through the chamber.
#
Looking out over the long valley leading up to the Maw, Praveen shivered as he warmed his hands on the tin cup of cider. Day after day the view remained the same. Domed Krenon tents scattered throughout the valley, with the Brothers that assembled just out of bowshot. He never understood why they just stood there staring at the fortress walls each day. What did they hope to accomplish? Stifling a yawn, he blinked and shook his head to clear the cobwebs.
“Hey there Gregor…did’ya hear the scuttle this morning in the barracks?” he asked his fellow guardsman to break up the monotony. Not that he expected much in the way of a response. Gregor had been in the guard a long time and Praveen wondered that he’d not retired long ago. It was hard to get the fellow to pay much attention to anything other than whatever duty he had of a given day.
“Nah. You know I don’t pay much mind to all that.”
Just as he had expected. Praveen decided to press on as not much else was like to happen that day. “I heard them say the council was meeting today with the Swordmaiden and them two boys what brought back the Stone.”
“Huh,” was Gregor’s only response.
Praveen continued, undeterred at his lack of apparent interest, “That scrawny one’s been holed up with the wizards ev’ry day since they got here and the other is the one said to have kilt Heinrick Tornike.”
Gregor sat up straight. Praveen smiled to himself. That got his attention.
Leaning over the parapet, Gregor squinted, straining to make out something in the valley below. “You see that?” said Gregor.
Praveen looked out over the valley. Nothing seemed different to him. “Nah, Just those damned Krenon.”
“Just there…there’s a…flickering.”
“You’re daft. There’s naught out there but rabbits and deer and suchlike. You been up on this wall too long mate?”
“There it is again!” he said, pointing.
Praveen narrowed his gaze, “I can almost…” he said at last, “yes…I see it now. There IS a flicker.”
“You think we should sound the alarm?”
“At what? A flicker? We’d be a laughingstock.”
Leaning forward on the stone wall, the two guards braced themselves with stiff arms. Whatever was happening in the valley floor below had their full attention. They watched the flickering expand outward even as new areas began to shimmer. A ripple of energy flowed across their field of vision and traveled up the wall of the fortress, pushing them back from the wall’s edge.
“By the gods…” Gregor scrambled for the wooden mallet hanging next to the bronze platter at the rear of the lookout station. The booming gong echoed across the valley and throughout the keep while Praveen stared down at the army appearing out of thin air to surround the Dazhberg. For the first time since he could remember, the Krenon were not standing there in a line. Somehow that was not a comfort.
#
Jeoffery Leif, Captain of the Guard, burst into the Aodhan Bret. “My Lords, a force has appeared outside the gates. The Dazhberg has been besieged.”
“How is this possible? Why were we not warned of their approach?” said Lord Damianus.
“They came out of nowhere my Lord. One moment, it was just the Krenon…the next an army surrounds us. I cannot explain it.”
“The Krenon grow bold,” said Philon. “I would not have thought they would use their own magic so openly.” He spat, “Hypocrites.”
“There is more,” said Leif. “They fly the red banner.”
“The Dragon Guard,” said Lord Commander Teoma, “I would not have thought our old allies would join with the Krenon.”
Dimitri Mora stroked his beard as he always did when he was thinking, “Their goals have always been parallel. The Krenon would seek to stamp out the remaining vestiges of magic, while the Dragon Guard stand opposed to those who would abuse magic. There is but a fine line between the two.”
“Regardless, we no longer face just Krenon wizardry, but also the cold steel of the guard,” said Teoma, “What is the size of the force?”
“Reports say they are two thousand strong. There are no engines,” said Leif.
Philon frowned. “They will not need them. The Krenon have dared much to move openly. They must know that the wards around the keep are faltering. It is only a matter of time before they strike.”
“For all of its might, the Dazhberg depends more on reputation and intimidation than it does on the size of the force available for its defense. This we all know,” said Lord Commander Teoma. “We have not the power to defeat this wizardry and if those troops enter the walls, the Dazhberg will fall. Arch-mage Philon, is there something the wizards can do?”
“With only the Sunstone there is little we can do except fight when the time comes. There is some cause for hope, though. The Krenon will have used much of their strength to bring that force across so far a distance and will be drained themselves for some time,” said Philon.
Dimitri Mora pounded his fist upon the table, “They are trying to delay us! They know we have the Sunstone and must be considering retrieving the Moonstone. Our course of action becomes clear. We can not delay to retrieve the Eligius Ealadha.”
“I fear you have seen it clearly,” said Lord Eoghan, “but who to send? We are no closer to that decision than we were before this invasion.”
“I will not weaken our defenses, we will need every man we have to mount any kind of defense. I will not spare a man for this errand on a faint hope that he has the right bloodline,” said Teoma.
“There is only one way to be sure, and we must be sure,” said Philon looking at each of the councilors in turn. One by one, they nodded; Marcello, Eoghan, Teoma, Mora, and finally Damianus. “So be it. Sebastian, Cenric, Krystelle…come forward.” Glancing at each other, the three moved forward at the old wizard’s command. “My young friends, we had thought to find another way, but Sterling Lex has forced our hand. We must ask you to do what we cannot. Would you take on this quest? Would you venture out and return the Eligius Ealadha to its home here in the Aodhan Bret?”
“I will m’ Lord,” said Sebastian without hesitation. “I would prove myself in this!” He wanted to get himself out of the fortress for a while and away from all the chaos. He needed time to think and this seemed as good an opportunity as any. He was no hero and if there was going to be a battle he wanted to put as much distance as he could between himself and the fighting.
Krystelle looked over at her father, who nodded. “Yes, Master Philon.”
“I will do as you ask, but…” Cenric glanced around the room, brow furrowed in confusion, “how will we find it? Where is it? And why us?”
“Why you, indeed,” said Philon, “Where it is and why you are much the same answer. You must seek the Elven city of Ha’vehl’on. The Eligius Ealadha was given over to the elves before they departed these lands and placed there for safekeeping.”
“But where is this Ha’vehl’on?” asked Sebastian, “and how will we find the Moonstone once we get there?”
“In truth, I do not know exactly where the city is. But we will provide you with a map of the wild. Combined with the lore Krystelle knows, you will find the city. Once you arrive, you must trust yourselves and a way will be made…if you are indeed who we think you are. I’m more concerned with getting the three of you out of this fortress.”
“I can help with that,” said Leif. “We’ll use the tunnels. I’ll send for the Seneschal. There is no one who knows those passages better than he.”
“Then it is decided,” said Philon. “You must make haste, the three of you. It will take you some days to make the journey to Ha’veh’lon and time is of the essence. Inevitably, the Dragon Guard and Krenon will breech our defenses and when that
time comes there is one final safeguard I can put into place. While I cannot bar them entry to the fortress itself, I can create a barrier that will deny them access to the Aodhan Bret. I can hold them off for perhaps a month, but no longer. Once that barrier fails—and it will fail in time—they will capture the Sunstone and Gabirel will be no more. Nothing will stand between the Kingdom and Sterling Lex. You must bring the Moonstone back here to the Aodhan Bret before the waxing of the moon.”
#
Eimhin Egon, Seneschal of the Dazhberg, led them deep into the heart of the fortress. Snow white brows and beard framed the diminutive man’s craggy features. His torch illuminated the bricks lining the curved ceiling of the tunnel. Periodically water dripped from the cracks between bricks, hissing when they hit the flames.
“My kin dug these tunnels nigh on seven hunnert years ago,” he said. “We made no maps, but we know ‘em like no one else. There’s tunnels and chambers naught been seen by those fancy knights in all that time, but ol’ Eimhin, he knows ‘em all.”
“How far is the walk to the other side?” said Krystelle.
“Other side? No we’re not walkin’ to the other side. No tunnels run all the way through the mountain.”
Sebastian bumped his head on an archway that Eimhin had walked right under. “Ow! Then how is this a way out?”
“Oh, there’s a way out. Just not by walking! Now you see this opening to the side here? Leads up to a spiraling staircase. Follow that up two hunnert steps and you’ll find a chamber built for the daughter of one of the first Lords here. All set out with a real bed and wardrobe and wood floors, even a real mirror. Window in that room looks out where she could see the sun set and watch for her love to return to home.”
“Did he?” said Cenric. “Did he come home? They lived happily ever after, didn’t they? I bet they did!”
“Alas, lad, he did not. She waited day after day, refusin’ to come down. Many suitors called, but she’d have none of ‘em. She got so sick o’ it all she had my great-uncle close up the original entrance in the main keep and dig this new one where no one could happen upon it. Finally one day she jist up and died right there. That Lord was mighty angry. Hung up my great-uncle by his beard outside the Maw for a fortnight!”
“Did you say your great-uncle?” said Cenric, ducking under a curved stone archway. “If that was one of the first Lords, it must have been hundreds of years ago! How can that be?”
“Well, my folk are mighty long lived that’s how.” Turning a corner they came to the end of the brick and entered a stretch of raw open stone lining the walls. “Twas us what made the Eligium you know.”
“But I thought the wizards made the stones?” said Cenric.
Eimhin chuckled, “Wizards make the stones? Pah. As soon say the elves did.” He spat. “No, none of them know the earth the way we do. No, we made the stones. They was meant to be a gift, just pretty baubles. Till them wizards and the elves made them something more.”
Sebastian bumped his head again, “Damn tunnel! Made them something more? What do you mean? What are the Eligium?”
“Master Cormac said they’re wells of magical power,” said Cenric.
“Aye lad. That they are. But that’s not what they were. They was always vessels, but it’s what you put in a vessel that makes it important. It’s magic what’s in those vessels now. Think of the world powers as endless pools. Beforetime there was lots of lakes and ponds where you could go to drink. Then the wizards and the elves took each one of those pools and locked ‘em to one of the five stones. All the magic they left in the world is like the dregs and puddles after a rainstorm. Only good thing that came of locking it away was the elves locked themselves away with it. Good riddance I say.”
“If all the magic is locked up then how is Sterling Lex so powerful?” said Cenric.
“How indeed? That’s just what has them wizards so worried. Ah, here we are.”
The four of them emerged into a vast chamber. Stalactites rimmed the ceiling, their internal glow illuminating the cavern with a blue glow that reflected off a glassy lake. A stone dock extended from the rocky shoreline to where a small wooden boat was tied. Water lapped against the dock, breaking the sullen silence of the cave. Sebastian noted that the boat appeared well-stocked with supplies. Someone, at least, had been ready for this.
“There’s yer way out. Good luck to you.”
“You aren’t coming with us?” said Cenric. “What if we get lost?”
Eimhin laughed, “Lost? No lad, you won’t get lost. You just follow the river. There’s naught but one way to go, and there’s no turning back neither. You go with the current and keep her bow pointed down river and you’ll be right as rain. Just take care you don’t fall out! As the cavern narrows, that current will grow strong and we’ve had a spell of rain up in the mountains of late. Might cause that river to flow even faster. As for going with you, there’s somewhat I need to do. Them knights willn’t be able to find their own arses without ol’ Eimhin to show ‘em the way, much less hold off the likes of them what’s camped outside the gates.”
Clambering into the boat, Sebastian and Cenric took up paddles on either side of the craft while Krystelle manned the tiller at the stern. Eimhin untied the lines at the stern and bow, pushing them out into the flowing water, yelling after them, “There’s a waterfall at the far end. When you see the green rocks glowing, ye’d better paddle for the shore quick as you can. Hate to see you go over the edge and ruin my boat!”
Sebastian stole a glance back at Krystelle as the swift current carried them away. In the pale blue iridescence of the cave she was more beautiful to him than ever and he thought back to her subtle rebuff at Cinaeth. During the long ride to return the Sunstone to Dazhberg she had been distant with him, even cold. He had thought to demonstrate his courage and bravery to her at Cinaeth, but it had all gone wrong. Then he had killed Gerlach Pwyll and Heinrick Tornike. You would have thought that bringing her back to life should count for something. Did the stain on his soul from the magic reach so far? It couldn’t be that, he decided. She treated Cenric like a favorite younger brother.
Alone with his thoughts, the darkness around them mirrored the emptiness he felt deep inside since the day he buried his cousin. It should have ended with Pwyll’s life. Instead, it had only grown. He felt no release, no measure of redemption. Revenge on Gerlach Pwyll had not helped and he wished he had listened to Adelwolf. The old knight had tried to warn him, but he had been too stubborn to listen. Even his petition to join the Gabirelian order had been denied for that one act. Perhaps recovering the Moonstone would bring him a sense of absolution and restore his honor. “I will do it,” he said under his breath.
“Do what?” He hadn’t expected Cenric to hear him over the sound of the water.
“Never mind. Is it me or is the current getting faster?”
“You’re right, we’re speeding up” said Krystelle from the stern. “Look ahead, the cavern is narrowing.” High stone walls closed in on them from either side. Midnight blue water frothed with white around the gunwales of the boat and both Cenric and Sebastian pulled their paddles inboard. Krystelle gripped the tiller, her knuckles white as she braced herself against the rush and the small craft careened into the narrow chute. Turning to Sebastian, a wide grin on his face, Cenric let out a cry of exhilaration as the wind of their passage blew icy spray in their faces.
“Help me steer!”
Sebastian lurched back to pull on the tiller with Krystelle. “Eimhin didn’t say anything about the current being so strong.”
“Shut up and steer! We have to keep the bow with the current or we’ll capsize.”
At the front of the boat, Cenric held on tight while Krystelle and Sebastian fought the powerful currents. Hauling the tiller in unison first right, then left, they skirted boulders and stalagmites to keep the boat from shattering on jagged stone. Approaching a sharp turn to the left, Sebastian braced himself and felt the stern begin to slip out of line. “Pull hard!”<
br />
Muscles in his back and arms quivering with the strain, he leaned heavily into the tiller while Krystelle leaned back to the railing. With the gunwale inching closer to the churning underground river, Cenric shifted his weight to the opposite rail to give them that last bit of advantage. Careening through the curve, they released the tiller in unspoken agreement and the craft righted itself. He breathed a momentary sigh of relief.
The very next moment he felt himself flying through the air amidst an explosion of rock shards and wood splinters as the boat shattered itself on an unseen boulder. He hit the water hard and the shock drove the breath from his lungs. Struggling to right himself he gulped a huge swallow of the frigid water. When his head finally popped to the surface he coughed and spluttered briefly before dunking back under the surface.
Tumbling downstream, lungs burning, Sebastian managed to get his head back above the water and drew in a huge breath. A hand grabbed his arm and pulled him up onto a remnant of the boat. Catching his bearings, he saw that Krystelle and Cenric had fared better than he. Each of them had managed to cling to a large part of their boat and she had pulled him onto her portion of the stern. The current swept them into the darkness.
#
Guardsmen lined the battlements atop the Dazhberg’s curtain wall, sun glinting from their steely helms, fresh strung bows in their hands. Pages hurried to fill the wire frame quivers attached to the wall at each archer’s station. More than half of the positions were unmanned, owing to the attrition in the Gabirelian Order since its peak during the Dragon Wars. Mikula, Gabirel’s quartermaster was everywhere, ordering the disposition of supplies and armaments to keep the defenders stocked during the coming battle. Even in the chill air, sweat plastered steel-grey hair to the top of his skull.
“You there, get that artillery ready!” he called out to the engineers struggling to prepare two large trebuchet designed to hurl rock and debris on any attacking force. Normally the engineers would have had at least a day’s warning to prepare their armaments, but the Dragon Guard’s sudden appearance demanded a quicker response.
Eligium- The Complete Series Page 11