The Treachery Of A Weasel

by Robert Blanchard

  Marion’s head turned a deep shade of red and his eyes blazed with fury. His head darted back and forth as he looked for someone—anyone—to step in on his behalf … but nobody did.

  “I am the king of this country!” Marion shouted indignantly, his shrill voice piercing in our ears. “You will obey me, or—”

  “That is for us to decide, Your Highness,” Chancellor Gerodi said in a low and even voice, “and we will decide now, for I believe that we have more than enough information for us to vote.”

  “If you have me removed from this throne, Gerodi, I swear by all of the gods that I’ll—”

  “You will do nothing, Your Highness,” Gerodi said, once again with deadly calm.

  Whatever Marion was going to say died on his lips; he just stood on his throne shaking with wide-eyed anger, incensed at the audacity of this man who, in his eyes, was far beneath him.

  The chancellor then turned to address the rest of the council. “Council members,” he began, “this vote is to determine if King Marion should be removed from the throne, due to accusations of an alleged conspiracy that threatened our entire country. All council members must vote, and the vote must be unanimous, whichever way we choose to go.”

  The six other council members nodded, four of them resolutely, the two others more meekly and subdued. I couldn’t honestly blame them—who knew what threats King Marion spewed at them?

  Chancellor Gerodi stood straight and tall. “All of those in favor of keeping King Marion on the throne?”

  The hall was silent as everyone awaited the council members’ responses. Each of the council members looked slowly back and forth at each other, to see the reactions of their fellow members.

  None of them raised their hands. Not one.

  “All those in favor of removing King Marion from the throne?” Gerodi asked.

  Gerodi’s hand went up as soon as he was done talking, and the hands of four others went up immediately afterward. Shortly thereafter, the hands of the other two members—the two subdued ones from earlier—followed suit, albeit reluctantly.

  The vote was unanimous.

  Gerodi nodded and turned to face King Marion. “On behalf of the Council, I declare you unfit to rule as king of Longchester by unanimous vote—”

  “You bastards!” Marion shrieked—then he bounded down the steps of the throne platform, heading straight for Gerodi, a look of murderous rage in his eyes. Mirabelle moved to stop him, but Marion was deceptively fast, she wouldn’t get there in time …

  Suddenly, Marion stopped—and started sneezing uncontrollably.

  No one had moved. In between Marion’s sneezing, I heard tiny voices.

  “That supposed to be freezing arrow!” Mishap yelled.

  “I thought you said sneezing arrow!” Tandem fired back. “Doesn’t matter—it worked!”

  “You let me hold arrows,” Mishap said. “You mess up again.”

  Gerodi was incredulous as he looked down at Derrick’s pouch and saw the brownies. “My, Lord Aidan—you and your group are just full of surprises. Thank you, little men—you may well have saved my life.”

  “I saved life,” Mishap said. “He just hand me wrong arrow.”

  “Will you leave it alone?” Tandem groaned.

  The chancellor then turned his attention to the sneezing former king. “Guards, take him away and place him in the dungeons. His reign is over.”

  As the guards grabbed Marion by the arms, he then began to thrash and flail about viciously in the guard’s grasp, spewing insults the entire time.

  “You haven’t seen the last of me! When I get out of here, I will have all of your heads for this, and heads of your bastard children!” He continued his venom-spewing threats as the soldiers dragged him through the door to the barracks.

  We all stared at the door for a moment longer, then Gerodi said, matter-of-factly, “That was unpleasant.” He then turned to us. “On behalf of the Council and the country of Longchester, I want to thank you for everything that you’ve done. You’ve risked your lives for a country not your own, and we will not forget that.”

  Hearing the chancellor’s words, especially in the face of such doubt as I’d had earlier about our chances of making it through this situation without a fight or facing execution, made me feel even more respect for Gerodi than I already had, which was considerable, when you take into account what he had just done.

  “How did he protect himself from the ritual?” Gerodi asked.

  “With this,” Mirabelle responded, holding up the emerald necklace Marion had been wearing. She absentmindedly handed it to Aurora.

  Gerodi turned his attention to Lady Mirabelle, still standing stoically and solemn-faced. “Lady Mirabelle, I spoke earlier of the pride and heart in which you have served your country, which is beyond admirable. Will you come back home and lead your army once more?”

  Mirabelle thought for a moment, and as she turned to look at me, I could tell she was conflicted.

  “Do what is in your heart, love,” I said softly. “I will be here regardless.” And I meant it—if she decided to stay in Longchester and lead the military, it didn’t mean we didn’t still love each other. True, we wouldn’t see each other as much, but I could live with that if she was happy.

  She smiled at me and faced Gerodi. “I’m sorry, Gerodi—I believe my place is right here.” She patted me on the chest and wrapped her arm around my back.

  Gerodi smiled warmly. “I am very happy for you, Lady Mirabelle, and you, Lord Aidan. You both deserve endless happiness.”

  Mirabelle and I smiled at each other.

  At that moment, Derrick and Iskandor appeared. “Aidan, he’s not talking. I’m ready to ring his scrawny little neck.”

  My happiness evaporated like cool water colliding with molten hot lava. It was quickly replaced by rage.

  Releasing Mirabelle, I marched into the castle, through the main hall and to the small room where we were keeping Tam tied to a chair. I kicked the door open and didn’t waste any words. I grabbed him—chair and all—and hoisted him over my shoulder.

  “What are you doing?” Tam shouted. “Put me down! Put me down!” He continued his hysterical raving all the way down the short hall and all the way outside.

  “ISKANDOR!” I screamed as we emerged.

  The dragon looked at me and knew exactly what I was asking. He followed me to the empty courtyard. He stood in the center as a bright light formed around him, and I dropped Tam on the ground in front of him. It took much longer than usual, but the giant blue dragon eventually materialized in front of us. The chair landed diagonally on two of its legs, then fell over, causing Tam to land painfully on his side—it had to hurt.

  But I don’t believe he noticed, because the cultist immediately caught sight of the thirty-foot tall dragon standing above him. His eyes bulged with horror and he started screaming for his life.

  “AHHH!!! Help! Help! Somebody help me!” But help was not forthcoming.

  There was about a twenty-foot distance between Iskandor and Tam, and I came to stand in between them. I looked up at the dragon, making eye contact, and gave him a slight wink—Iskandor nodded slightly in return. With that one exchange, I knew we were in complete understanding of the situation.

  Tam was wide-eyed, sweating, and breathing heavily. But the tried to call my bluff anyway. “You won’t do it—not in front of all these people. You’re a hero.”

  I grabbed him by his robes and pulled him to my face. “You betrayed us, tried to turn us all into Ther-lor. We need to save the people in Min Lenoras, but we have no idea how because we don’t know where Sirak is keeping the souls. My rage, combined with my desperation … do not fool yourself into thinking that I won’t let that dragon tear you into a million pieces.”

  “I realize this is a different situation, but I reiterate—perhaps there is a different way to handle this conundrum …” Timor said nearby, clearly worried about the chain of events taking place.

  I walked over to Isk
andor and rubbed the side of his face affectionately. I then walked over to Tam, kneeling down close beside him, practically speaking in his ear. “If you’re not going to tell us anything, then you’re of no use to us, and we might as well dispose of you. If I ask my dragon friend to, he’ll eat you … probably the chair too. What I can’t control is how he’ll do it …” I put my thumb and my forefinger to my chin, mock thinking. “I’m not sure if he will eat half of you now, and half of you later, or if he will elect to swallow you whole … hmm, that would be interesting! You would still be alive as you slid down his throat, perhaps even as you reached his stomach—”

  “Okay, okay!” Tam cried, a crazed look on his face. “I’ll tell you anything you want to know—anything! Just please … please don’t feed me to the dragon! I’ll do anything, I swear!”

  I gave him a skeptical look. “Are you sure? You were so adamant before about not talking—and now I feel bad, because I’ve placed this meal in front of the dragon, and now I’m going to take it away. He’s not going to be happy with me … perhaps I should just let him have you. I’m not sure I believe you anyway.”

  “I swear it, I swear!” Tam whined, his eyes pleading. “I swear on my lord Sirak that I will—”

  “What?” I asked, incredulous. “I don’t want you to swear on him—what in the name of the gods is the matter with you? Iskandor—” I gestured toward the cultist.

  “No! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean it!” the cultist cried. “I won’t do it again, I swear …” He then began to sob.

  Iskandor had leaned in after I gave my mock command, baring his rows of blade-like teeth at Tam. He gasped, began shivering and breathing in low, shallow breaths.

  I stopped Iskandor with a pat on his snout. “You’d better have something good to tell us,” I said to the cultist. “Derrick, if you would, please?”

  “Aww,” Derrick groaned. “I wanted to see Iskandor eat him.” Nevertheless, he walked over to the cultist, who was still laying uncomfortably on his side, stood up the chair. I looked back at Iskandor, a slow smile spreading across my face. Iskandor returned the smile just as warmly—and in that small, fleeting moment, I felt the full strength of the bond that existed between my dragon friend and I. It was truly unlike any relationship I’d ever had in my life; Garridan and I had a very close relationship, very much like a father-son. Derrick and I were like best friends, practically brothers. Mirabelle and I—that relationship speaks for itself. But the relationship between Iskandor and I could not be categorized in any way, shape, or form. It went beyond any type of friendship or family bond and stood in a class by itself.

  Timor was suddenly next to me. “What you did there was—well, sadistic.”

  I shrugged. “I did what I had to do—we were out of options and we need answers.”

  Chancellor Gerodi has joined us. “I don’t normally condone those types of actions, but then again—these are extraordinary circumstances.”

  Tam glared at me—he was sweating profusely and still breathing shallow. “You are insane … how are you able to be friends with such an unholy beast?”

  My eyes narrowed. “First of all, be careful how you speak of my friend. Second of all—insane? I? That’s almost humorous coming from you. Third of all, I became friends with him the same way you become friends with anyone—I was nice to him. You’d be surprised how far that gets you in a friendship. Now—let’s start our questions over from the beginning. … what is your real name?”

  “Natish,” the cultist answered.

  I nodded. “What exactly is your lord planning?” I left the name out this one time to avoid any early complications.

  Natish’s eyes lit up with reverence. “My lord Sirak … is truly a man of vision, of amazing ideals. He seeks to cleanse the world of all its corruption, to make the world right again, by purifying it one city at a time. Oh, yes,” Natish nodded. “The ritual, the Sol-haleth, transforms mortal men and women into the Ther-lor—the perfect race. They never argue, never fight with each other, always do what they are told, and fight until they are literally in pieces—the perfect people to have in your country if you were a king.”

  “We know all of that already,” I said.

  “Sure,” Derrick shrugged, “a whole country full of mindless, soulless corpses than can’t think for themselves and only do what they are told, with no understanding of whether it’s right or wrong—sounds like a carnival to me.”

  “Better than those that do think for themselves,” Natish retorted, “defying their kings, rebelling against their countries. Their freedom does nothing but limit a country’s potential, keep it from achieving true greatness.”

  “Sounds like the land of boredom to me,” Mirabelle said. “Admit it—that’s your ultimate goal, to make every land you touch as boring as it can possibly be.”

  “Why did your people target Delmar first?” I asked.

  “Ah … the reasons for that were numerous,” Natish said with a glimmer of a smile. “First, the strategic advantage … to secure one of the largest, most fortified cities in the world was of great value to us. From there, we could expand in any direction we chose, Delmar being located near the center of our continent.”

  “Why did King Marion make a deal with you?” Mirabelle asked.

  Natish paused before he answered. “Another reason why the cities of Alexia and Longchester were chosen is because of the ridiculous political infighting and maneuvering that was occurring. Lord Sirak saw the opportunity to conform these imperfect, squabbling societies into our perfect society. The people of this world are too greedy, too selfish … only out for themselves. They have no intention of doing what’s right for their country, for the world—”

  “Yes, yes … so you are supposed to be our saviors,” I interrupted, annoyed. “What about King Marion?”

  Natish smiled a devious grin. “King Marion … he claimed to have the same ideals as us, but we knew immediately that he was no better than the rest of you spineless insects—conceited, idiotic, not to mention lacking in mental stability. The deal was that we would grant him immunity from the ritual and control over the Ther-lor in his city in exchange for safe passage to the bowels of the castle so that we could perform the ritual.”

  “And you made the same type of deal in Delmar,” Derrick said. “With that little weasel, Norvin.”

  Natish nodded.

  “So how exactly does this ritual work?” Timor asked.

  “Ah, yes,” Natish said. “The ritual is of my lord’s brilliant design, put together from many different spells—some ancient but powerful spells, some forbidden spells that Lord Sirak learned about while he was a member of the Dyn’osi, the Infinite Curtain. The ritual takes place over three days—most of the spells are so complex and powerful that they require an extended amount of time to complete. Three of our most powerful mages cast spells on the Rod of Therl to enhance its power, and the rest cast various spells involved with the transformation of the people into the Ther-lor, and extending the range of the spells so that they can be cast over the entire city. The ritual begins to take full effect on the third day, as another spell is cast that causes all of the other spells to essentially merge into one. At the same time, the original spells that were cast begin to take effect on the surrounding area, which is the effect that all of you felt this morning—it takes several more hours for the full transformation to take place.”

  Timor nodded slowly, seemingly lost in thought as he absorbed what he had heard of the inner workings of the ritual.

  “Where is Sirak keeping the souls in Min Lenoras?” I asked.

  Natish hesitated.

  “If you’re thinking about not answering,” I continued, “keep in mind that I still have a hungry dragon standing by.”

  “Lord Sirak was determined to not make the same mistakes he did in Delmar,” Natish answered. “The city of Min Lenoras, as you know, was carved out of the mountain it sits atop of. He had the Ther-lor dig deep, deep below the city of Min Lenoras. Through
the course of their digging, they discovered an enormous, underground cavern. I heard rumors that an ancient demon lives there—that is where Lord Sirak kept the souls.”

  So now—finally—we had our answer. And yet—saving Min Lenoras suddenly seemed more complicated than it did before.

  “Is there another way to the cavern?” Derrick asked. “Other than wading our way through a sea of undead monsters trying to disembowel us?”

  Natish again hesitated. But before I could say anything, he answered.

  “Yes. There are some caves to the south of Min Lenoras that will bring you to the cavern. Lord Sirak himself took a few of us and some of the Ther-lor to explore the area after they had discovered it.”

  “How many other cities or towns in the area of Min Lenoras has Lord Sirak been able to convert?” I asked.

  “Only a few,” Natish replied, then he hesitated. “But that’s not all. When you confront him on that mountainous terrain, you will not only be facing Ther-lor there. Lord Sirak was also able to work out deal with goblins, ogres, and the minotaurs of Mosath-Tor.”

  “The minotaurs?” I asked incredulously. “Goblins and ogres I can see—they’re not very bright creatures—but the minotaurs are intelligent, as well as arrogant to the point of hating all other races. How does Sirak—or Lord Sirak—” I corrected myself—“know that the minotaurs won’t turn on him?”

  Natish smiled sinisterly. “Lord Sirak made a deal with the monstrous beasts, claiming he could make them stronger than ever. To do this, he said, they needed to be branded with a special magical rune. The rune does what Lord Sirak promises, of course, but it also forces the beasts to be loyal to Lord Sirak—they won’t be able to turn on him no matter what they feel. My lord did the same with the goblins and the ogres.”

  “Well, that will make the battle there all the more fun,” Derrick muttered.

  “One more thing,” I said, “that incident with the note, and Kirra—what really happened there?”

  Natish smiled, a sinister grin. “A bit of sleight-of-hand. While you all were arguing, I slipped the real note to Norvin around the corner, a note revealing your whereabouts to King Marion.”