The Lilith Trilogy Box Set

by Kim ten Tusscher

  The officer shouted a few orders. The men shuffled about until they were neatly lined up. They saluted as one. Ferhdessar was content.

  “Warriors of Merzia,” he began. His words had an immediate effect; the men straightened their shoulders and their faces glowed with the expectation of being allowed to do more than bring water, deliver ammunition, and carry off the casualties. “Tonight, we’ll reclaim the palace. I have an important task in mind for you. You’ll fight in the frontline, and you’ll defeat Kasimirh and his sorcerers.”

  Some of the men became agitated. They had seen what the sorcerers could do. No one dared to voice their doubts, though.

  “You’ll be my elite troops. The chosen ones to save Merzia.” A boy bowed his head. Ferhdessar walked up to him. “Don’t you believe me?”

  The boy knelt down. “Of course I do, lord.”

  Ferhdessar put his hand on the boy’s head to keep him on his knees. “Do you remember the victory of the Dragons over the Wolves during the tournament?”

  “Certainly, lord,” they said as one.

  “No one expected those untrained soldiers to be able to defeat warriors as experienced as the Wolves. Nevertheless, they did. Thanks to me. Tonight, I’ll make sure that you defeat our enemy. You’ll do what you came here for.” He turned to face the officer. “Divide these men into three groups.”

  He let go of the kneeling boy and took a few steps back. It didn’t take long for the groups to be formed. Ferhdessar beckoned the first group to come forwards, and instructed the officer to put a soul box on the floor.

  “Imagine that your soul flows into this object.”

  A few moments later the group was standing motionless in front of him. Ferhdessar gestured and they marched off. At the wall, they turned around as one.

  “Next group.”

  The ritual was repeated twice more. There were only a few men who needed a bit more encouragement from Ferhdessar. Finally, there were thirty obedient soldiers standing next to him.

  His elite troops for the night.

  5

  Ferhdessar, on horseback, was staring at the palace on the other side of the ravine. Fires flaring up in several places in the ruined city, gave the night an eerie appearance. Over his head, Merzia’s banner was flapping proudly. Nadesh wasn’t lost just yet, no matter what the generals said.

  Satisfied, Ferhdessar glanced at the group of soldiers standing before him. None of them made a sound. They were staring at the high walls of the palace towering over them. The remaining twenty soldiers were standing behind Ferhdessar, all perfectly in line.

  The soldiers that the generals had gathered around them were anything but calm. Some nervously shuffled their feet. Perhaps they had personally experienced the strength of the enemy. Others were excited, because they were finally allowed to attack their foe at the palace.

  General Zander came and stood next to Ferhdessar. The sorcerer glanced at him, but immediately refocused his attention on Afifa. She was standing at the edge of the rock pillar, and used magic to restore the bridge that Lilith had destroyed earlier. Now and again, the dragon showed up over the city, did her destructive duty, and disappeared as quickly as she had come. Ferhdessar could sense that she was surrounded by magic, which explained why their attacks had no effect on her. Luckily, the dragon was nowhere to be seen right now.

  “I must advise you to at least stay close to the citadel, Ferhdessar.” Zander was once again trying to convince him to stay away from the actual fighting. The generals in no way approved of Ferhdessar’s hasty attack. They had made that abundantly clear.

  “I have nothing to fear,” Ferhdessar said with determination. “I’m surrounded by outstanding soldiers.”

  “Your death will…”

  “I won’t die. The only sorcerer to die tonight is Kasimirh,” Ferhdessar hissed.

  Afifa raised her hand to signal that she had finished.

  “Forwards!” Ferhdessar ordered, before Zander could say anything else.

  His soldiers immediately started to move. Ferhdessar made his horse follow them, leaving Zander behind. Without a shimmer of doubt, the men walked onto the magical connection between the two rock pillars. Ferhdessar’s horse, however, wasn’t so trusting. It whinnied and wanted to step back. Ferhdessar thrust his heel into the animal’s flank, and the horse reluctantly continued walking. Afifa’s magic rippled with each step the animal took. There was nothing but darkness below its feet. It looked as if Ferhdessar and his soldiers were floating to the other side.

  The generals’ soldiers were as reluctant as the horse, but since nobody dropped down into the ravine, they kept walking. Their advance didn’t remain unnoticed by Kasimirh’s warriors for long. The sound of bugles cut through the night. The wind was picking up and brought a downpour of arrows with it. Now and again, silhouettes of the archers were visible on the remains of the dome. But those were the only enemy soldiers in sight. Ferhdessar trusted that it would remain that way. The attacks on the seventh rock pillar had been intensified, and Kasimirh had sent all his troops over there. At least, that was what Ferhdessar was counting on.

  There wasn’t much the Merzian’s could do while they were crossing the bridge. Their own archers had remained behind, and the wind frustrated their efforts. The Merzian soldiers used their shields to defend themselves against the arrows raining down on them. However, many were killed in this first phase of the battle. Ferhdessar only had enough power to give his soldiers orders and keep himself safe.

  There were many casualties among Ferhdessar’s elite troops, too, before they were able to reach the other rock pillar. Ferhdessar spurred on his horse. The palace gardens offered little protection, so he wanted to cross them as quickly as possible. The soldiers that had survived ran beside him at an inhuman pace. Everything depended on the speed of their attack. Kasimirh’s warriors had now entered the gardens as well. Ferhdessar sent a group of soldiers forwards and directed the attack. His warriors fought fiercely and efficiently, like a unit that had been fighting together for decades.

  “Ferhdessar, do you really think that you stand a chance?”

  Ferhdessar looked around. He let go of the magic that commanded the soldiers, and the minute that he did this they became a disorganized bunch because of their inexperience. One after another was killed. Perhaps he should have picked more experienced soldiers after all, Ferhdessar thought as he summoned the magical energy again.

  “Where are you?” he called out. It was undoubtedly Kasimirh’s voice that he had heard.

  A ball of fire smashed into the ground in front of him. His horse whinnied and took a few steps back. Ferhdessar looked up. Kasimirh was standing on the wall, leaning on a staff. One of his sorcerers was standing next to him. The top of the staff was sparkling gold. A dragon had wrapped its wings around the world. It was Yvar’s sceptre!

  Full of anger, Ferhdessar launched a few fireballs. Kasimirh laughed. His voice sounded like he was standing next to him. “Go back, Ferhdessar, while you still can.”

  “I will defeat you right here!”

  “And how are you going to do that? I have something that you need.” Kasimirh raised his hand. Ferhdessar attacked, but the fireball hit a magical shield. Then he saw what Kasimirh was holding up in the air: a small metal disc on a leather lace.

  “Are you going to call on the Gods?” Ferhdessar scoffed. He wasn’t scared. Kasimirh wouldn’t use the magical object the right way. The first time that Ferhdessar had used it, it hadn’t been all too powerful, because he had only called upon eleven of the twelve Gods. Only when he had called out the names of all twelve Gods, a devastating force of magic had been released. “One God is not enough to make it work.”

  A bright flash blinded him. Ferhdessar was hurled off his horse. As he turned around he saw one of his soldiers lying next to him. His body had been burned to the bone. His horse lay broken on the ground. It made an attempt to get back up, but dropped back down dead. Ferhdessar sat up. There were smouldering bodies every
where. He retched and put his hand over his nose to protect himself from the stench.

  “You were saying?” Kasimirh sounded extremely tired, but Ferhdessar couldn’t fail to notice the sarcasm in his voice.

  “We have to go back, Ferhdessar.” Afifa shouted.

  He shook his head. “He has used up all his power. This is our chance.”

  “And who are you going to bring with you to fight?”

  Ferhdessar rose to his feet, helped by Afifa. “My soldiers…”

  Afifa gave him a rough shake. “Look around you. There’s no one left apart from the two of us.”

  Ferhdessar noticed the silence. Kasimirh’s attack had obliterated everyone, even his own soldiers. Only Afifa and Ferhdessar remained, saved by their shields.

  “We’ll get new soldiers.”

  “Out of the question. There’s no way that we’re going to win this tonight.” She dragged him with her.

  Ferhdessar resisted. “I though you never gave up. We can still fight. There’s so much you can do!”

  “It’s a lost cause, Ferhdessar.”

  “I order you to fight!”

  “Suit yourself!”

  Ferhdessar staggered as Afifa let go of him. He fell to his knees. A fireball hit his shield as he scrambled to his feet. Only now did he feel the pain in his ankle. He looked up at Kasimirh. The battle wasn’t over until one of the sorcerers was lying dead on the field. Ferhdessar didn’t intend to stop until that sorcerer was Kasimirh.

  A dark shape loomed up behind Kasimirh. Lilith roared and spread her wings. She breathed fire into the sky, illuminating herself and her master. Then she took flight. She flew towards Ferhdessar at great speed.

  Ferhdessar took a step back. Pain shot through his ankle. He gathered more magic in his hand, but could only do so at the expense of his shield. He looked around for help, but he was completely alone. Even Afifa was nowhere to be seen.

  Ferhdessar knew that he couldn’t beat the dragon. He fortified his shield and walked backwards. He tripped and continued on hands and knees. The generals were undoubtedly watching him from the other rock pillar. Was no one coming to his aid? Perhaps they were glad to be rid of him.

  Ferhdessar smelled Lilith before her shadow fell over him. A penetrating mixture of sulphur and smoke. She was cloaked in the stench of Merzia’s destruction. He turned around and looked at her. Lilith bent over him. She growled softly. Her face trembled. She walked forwards as he crawled backwards.

  But he couldn’t go any further. A horse lay behind him, blocking his way. Lilith moved her head towards Ferhdessar. She inhaled his smell. A chuckle broke the silence.

  “You’re scared,” she whispered triumphantly.

  She shook her head. Ferhdessar exerted himself to fortify his shield. He knew that he wouldn’t last long.

  “Damn it, Ferhdessar. You’re forcing me to put my life on the line for you.” Afifa entwined her magic with his, reinforcing their shield. She pulled him up by his armpits.

  “You’re a conjurer performing cheap tricks, yet you call yourself a sorcerer,” Lilith sneered as she took a step back. “When it comes down to it, you need someone to help you. It has always been like that.” She turned around and flew back to Kasimirh.

  Ferhdessar dropped his shield and threw a fireball at her. Unperturbed, she kept flying, leaving Ferhdessar behind in humiliation. Everyone had seen that the dragon didn’t think it worth the effort to fight him, because he didn’t pose any threat. He threw another fireball, but it didn’t even reach Lilith. A fight would have been better than the contempt she was showing him.

  Kasimirh’s soldiers came running towards them. Afifa shoved Ferhdessar aside, causing him to fall. “Bring yourself to safety. I’ll stop them.” At the same time there was the sound of howling wolves.

  Ferhdessar stole a last glance at Afifa. She was already spinning her staff. She didn’t look impressed by the superior numbers facing her. “Go, Ferhdessar!”

  He crawled towards the bridge. Ten wolves rushed past him. Exhausted, Ferhdessar lay down for a few minutes. The wolves launched quick attacks at the warriors attacking Afifa. They dragged the enemies to the ground by their arms, but their main goal was to force back Kasimirh’s warriors.

  A horse stopped beside Ferhdessar.

  “Give me your hand.”

  Ferhdessar looked up. Kiril was hanging sideways off the horse, reaching out for him. Ferhdessar grabbed hold of the offered hand, and the general hoisted him up. The horse turned around, and they rode at great speed across the invisible bridge to the citadel. Three wolves followed them. They stopped when they reached the other rock pillar, so that Ferhdessar could mount the horse that was brought to him.

  “This is the last rock pillar that’s still ours,” Kiril said. “The Jakobinians have won the battle over the seventh district of the city. Zuzeca outsmarted us. We had to retreat.”

  Ferhdessar looked back. Afifa was running towards him. Four wolves followed behind her. Kasimirh’s warriors were on their heels. They had almost crossed the bridge. The realization that they had been defeated hit Ferhdessar like a rock. Earlier that evening, this garden had been filled with proud Merzian soldiers, ready to recapture the palace, and through that, the capital. How on earth could his plan have turned out so wrong?

  “Take us to safety,” he said to Kiril. “We’re leaving Nadesh.”

  Afifa jumped on the back of Kiril’s horse and they rode into the citadel at great speed. The narrow hallways were filled with people trying to flee. They had to jump aside for the horses and wolves. At the end of the hallway, Ferhdessar saw Merzian soldiers fighting Zuzeca’s men. The Jakobinians were using fire to force back the Merzians.

  Ferhdessar took a right turn. Further down was the gate to the path that led to the fortress at the foot of Nadesh. People were swarming through the narrow passage. Ferhdessar’s horse slowed its pace. Someone was trying to climb on his horse, but a wolf pulled the woman back down by her leg.

  Growling and snarling, Kiril’s pack cleared the way. The screaming behind him drew closer. Ferhdessar looked over his shoulder. He could already see Zuzeca’s soldiers, so he spurred on his horse. Kiril followed him. As soon as they were through the gate, the general shouted: “Close the gate!”

  The noise increased as the soldiers pushed the heavy doors closed. A few people managed to slip through the shrinking opening. Someone screamed at someone else who hadn’t made it through. The doors were barred with a heavy beam. There was no way back.

  Ferhdessar pulled the hood of his coat over his head. He rode down in silence.

  “It’s here, lord Kasimirh.”

  An out-of-breath soldier was pointing excitedly at a door. After Ferhdessar had fled, the Jakobinians had searched the citadel. All the soldiers had been killed, and the servants had been taken captive. This was the only room where there were still some Merzians left. The room, however, was locked.

  Kasimirh shuffled forwards. The fight with Ferhdessar had worn him out, and he hadn’t even completely recovered from the attack during the wedding. But come hell or high water, he had to be there when the door to this room was opened. He expected it to be important. The smell tingling his nostrils confirmed his suspicion. It was a mixture of cedar and frankincense, which could only mean one thing.

  He pounded on the door, but wasn’t surprised that no one answered. Kasimirh beckoned two men carrying a heavy beam. They bashed down the door. In a few seconds, Kasimirh took everything in, and then he crossed the threshold, leaning heavily on his staff. Only one of the four men looked up.

  Mitan had followed him. She put her arm around his waist and squeezed herself underneath his armpit, just like she had done while leading him through the hallways. Annoyed, Kasimirh pushed her away. He briefly looked at her. The female priest winced and took a step back.

  Kasimirh walked on alone. There was something lying on the table, covered with a sheet. He pulled the sheet away. Underneath a pile of salt he saw the outlines of a human bein
g. At the foot of the table stood an urn. Kasimirh’s gaze was immediately drawn to the seal: Merzia’s coat of arms.

  “So, Yvar really is dead.” A smile appeared on his face. He had suspected it, but the attack earlier that night had given rise to doubts. If Ferhdessar was in charge, he shouldn’t have been in the frontline to fight. A leader couldn’t afford to do that.

  Kasimirh looked at the four embalmers. They stoically continued with their prayers. “Let me know when the embalming is finished,” Kasimirh said.

  He didn’t receive an answer, but he hadn’t expected to. He walked back to Mitan and put his arm around her shoulders. She helped him out of the room. Kasimirh pointed at two soldiers. “Guard this room. No one goes in or out. If the embalmers need anything, you make sure that they get it.”

  The men saluted.

  “Mitan, take me to the Fountain of Origin.”

  6

  As the doors opened a cold wind slipped into the room. The pages of the open books on the stands rustled. Kasimirh looked up from the manuscript that he had randomly picked off one of the shelves. Zuzeca had entered.

  “I was expecting you later, Kasimirh.” He sat down in the chair across from the sorcerer. He beckoned to one of the women. “Bring us some refreshments. And light a few more candles.”

  “Forget about that last bit,” said Kasimirh.

  Zuzeca had taken up residence in the library. The Merzians attached so much value to their books that they kept them in the most fortified room in the palace. The building was in ruins, but the library was undamaged. It would be a pity if a fire were to destroy all this knowledge after all.

  The woman returned with a decanter of wine and some cheese. “Leave us alone,” Zuzeca said after she had poured out their glasses.

  Kasimirh took a sip. He relaxed as he enjoyed the wine.

  “I found a text that will interest you,” Zuzeca said after he had gulped down his wine.