The War of the Pyromancer

by P D Ceanneir

  Duke Cormack stared long and hard at Telmar. A vein on his temple pulsed. ‘You said you knew little of the history of the palace.’

  ‘I only know what is relevant, my lord. I find that is a code that I adhere to.’ He said this none too harshly but those close by, including Vanduke and the duke’s son, stared in shock at the handsome young baron and the tall powerful noble.

  There was tinkling laughter behind them and then someone clapped. ‘Bravo, young Telmar, bravo!’ said a sweet female voice. ‘Vanduke, you did not tell me your friend was such wonderful entertainment.’

  The speaker was a tall woman with a slim athletic body. She wore a figure-hugging dress of deep purple with a white bodice that showed ample cleavage. Her hair was long, curly and a light yellow, almost sun bleached white, and it bounced over her bare brown shoulders as she laughed. Her complexion was so flawlessly smooth that it was difficult to determine her age. She had an oval face with a dimpled chin, a small nose, wide lips and high rosy cheekbones. However, the almond shaped green eyes gave her away as a Cromme.

  ‘Oh, aunt, I’ve only ever told you the good parts about him,’ replied Vanduke.

  The woman laughed again and hugged Vanduke. ‘I’ve missed you,’ she said as she kissed him on each cheek.

  ‘Telmar,’ said my father, ‘this is my Aunt Cinnibar, Countess of Sonora.’

  Telmar made to bow towards the countess, but she quickly stepped forward and kissed him on the cheek. She was about his height and her floral perfume washed over him. He found her intimidating and intoxicating at the same time.

  ‘From the way Vanduke talks about you, you would think you were brothers,’ said Cinnibar. Telmar noticed Vanduke blush and he felt his own cheeks flush. ‘That does not give you leave to call me aunt though.’

  There was general laughter all around them and Telmar had noticed they had drawn a crowd. However, the only people not laughing were the Duke of Keveni and his son. Cinnibar tuned to them, frowning.

  ‘Ah, Cormack, have you finished bullying the baron, or have you another allegorical phrase? Personally, I would very much like to hear Telmar’s witty retort if you have.’

  The duke huffed loudly, turned on his heal, and dragged his son away after him.

  Cinnibar turned back to Telmar. She was not smiling. ‘Oh dear, I may have made matters worse between you both.’

  ‘I am sure that is not true, my lady,’ said Telmar.

  ‘So modest. Vanduke, why did you not tell me he was modest?’ she shouted at her nephew.

  ‘Modest, no. Polite, yes,’ answered Vanduke with a smile.

  Again the contagious girlish chuckle issued from Cinnibar, and both men laughed with her.

  ‘Seriously,’ said the countess, ‘Duke Cormack is not a man who likes to be spoken to by a lower class of noble, even if you are third in line to the throne. He fears me, but he hates you, there is a difference.’ She turned around without a word of goodbye. Her skirts flashed through the throng of chattering nobles, and then she was gone.

  ‘So that’s your aunt?’ said Telmar as he watched her leave.

  ‘Yep, that’s her.’

  ‘You never said she was so pretty.’

  ‘Get your mind out of the gutter, oh ye of lowly birth. We mortals do not deserve to look upon her countenance,’ said Vanduke with a little grandeur.

  Telmar laughed, but his heart would not stop racing every time he remembered that kiss on the cheek.

  4

  With their hunger sated, both Telmar and Vanduke followed the other nobles into a large antechamber that had its entrance to the rear of the hall. Inside they sat on long mahogany pews and listened to an hour-long speech about the virtues of free religion and the Derma Ken philosophy by High Priest Wisher, who also happened to the citadel’s Chief Confessor.

  When this was finally over, Wisher spoke loudly, ‘will the new acolytes to the Order, please stand.’

  Vanduke nudged Telmar, ‘that’s us.’

  They moved towards the front of the pews along with two other boys and a girl of about their age. They were then told to put on white robes before being ushered through a low door, down a corridor, and into a small room with a short stone table to the rear. Behind the table stood twelve purple robed figures, each face was shrouded in darkness under their cowls.

  Vanduke informed Telmar that this room was the ancient church of the palace and was now the Tabernacle for the ordaining of new members. Each initiate received a birch branch adorned in holly from an unrobed man at the doorway; this was the old pagan symbol of rebirth. Telmar clutched it in his right hand feeling very self-conscious.

  The twelve behind the table chanted a string of quatrains, in a language Telmar could not place and then four of them moved to a small wooden Kist in the corner of the room. They lifted it onto the table and then one of their numbers touched a large round golden clasp on the lid and it sprung open. Telmar noticed that the clasp had the Skrol symbol on it of the All Seeing Eye, which could mean knowledge, or secrets worth revealing, it also represented the All-mother, or the Earth Mother. Most of all, what made his heart flutter was that he had seen this symbol on only one thing before that day.

  The Door.

  The lid opened to reveal a partly broken skull and some bones, clearly a holy relic of someone in the distant past according to the age of the bones. Telmar turned to Vanduke, who rolled his eyes skywards as if he was not taking this too seriously. Telmar tried to refrain from laughing.

  Each of them received a piece of paper and told to repeat the words on it while holding aloft the branch. The words were a form of fealty to the Order, an oath spoken before witnesses to uphold the honour and integrity of the fellowship and never to reveal any of its secrets.

  Once this part of the ceremony ended, the four robed figures closed the Kist and took it away.

  One of the purple-robed priests stepped forward and pulled back their hood to reveal the Countess Cinnibar. The others behind her did the same. Telmar noticed that Duke Cormack was one of them; he fixed the baron with a dark stare. Joaquin Ri was to his right grinning and, to Telmar’s surprise, Prince Sallen stood at the far end of the row beside one of his old tutors from the academy, Fowyn Ri. The rest of the assembly he did not recognise, but Cinnibar was not the only female there. In the centre of the group was a Ri with savagely beautiful features staring back at him. Her gaze made him uncomfortable. He was to learn later that this was Jynn Ri, and the countesses personal protector.

  Cinnibar clapped twice then held up her right palm. ‘By the order of the Brethac Ziggurat,’ she said, ‘I grant you all the Favour and the Bond of Brotherhood for an eternity. You are now Acolytes that will be set on a path to knowledge of the True History and not rise within the Order until thy knowledge is infused to thy soul.’ She lowered her hand.

  ‘Congratulations brothers, and sister, you may return to the congregation,’ she smiled at them each in turn, but when her gaze fell on Telmar, she grinned broadly, and beckoned him over with a slight jerk of her head.

  ‘I think,’ she whispered to him as he reached her, ‘that your tuition shall begin tonight.’ She took his hand and they left by a narrow door to the rear of the Tabernacle. Telmar noticed that Vanduke saw then leave and his friend frowned in confusion just before he went out of his sight.

  5

  ‘So were the bones in the Kist an actual holy relic?’ Telmar asked the countess.

  Cinnibar chuckled, ‘as a matter of fact, they are.’

  The countess had taken Telmar by coach on the short journey to the Havant Temple, a large square building that sat next to the Plaza. He entered the countess’s private apartment to find sumptuous rooms richly decorated with fine tapestries, sculptures and paintings. Lush green plants surrounded a small pool and fountain in the centre of the reception room, the tall sculpture in the fountain was of the sea goddess, Kwi-Aqua. Clear water cascaded down her bare breasts from an urn she balanced on her shoulder.

  Cinnibar offered T
elmar to sit on a soft leather-bound couch. He did so and watched the countess glide gracefully towards a tall narrow table and pour red wine from a porcelain pitcher into pewter goblets.

  ‘The bones are of the Elder Veltigen,’ she said as she handed the goblet to him.

  ‘Veltigen of the Falesti?’ Telmar asked in wonder. The famous elder had died under mysterious circumstances during the height of the Dragor-rix War. ‘How on earth did you get them?’

  ‘Ah, now that would be knowledge worth knowing, and as you know Telmar, knowledge is power.’

  Telmar looked at her in silence as she sat. The only other person he knew that used that phrase was the Elder Styx, whose personality was imbibed inside Harlequin. He was starting to realise, not for the first time, that there was some sort of connection with this mysterious order, the strange Powerball, and possibly the Door of his dreams, but could not fathom what it was.

  ‘The whole point of the Brethac Ziggurat is knowledge, and truth is meshed within knowledge,’ said Cinnibar. ‘But there is something else linked with knowledge. Do you know what that is, Telmar?’

  He looked down at his wine for a moment, deep in thought, and gave back the only reply he could. ‘Secrets,’ he answered.

  The countess smiled warmly. Her green eyes glinted with joy. ‘You have just taken the first steps on the Road to Knowledge, and will be the first of the initiates to learn the Forbidden History.’

  ‘And what is the Forbidden History, may I ask?’

  Cinnibar did not answer but looked at Basilisk. Telmar had unbuckled the sword and had propped it up against his end of the couch. She held out her hand, ‘may I?’

  Telmar nodded, he unsheathed the blade and handed it to her hilt first. Cinnibar gave the sword a cursory glance, but her interest moved towards the pommel, and the Skrol etched Glemmarstone.

  ‘Intriguing. Do you know what it says?’ she asked him.

  ‘I have my suspicions.’

  ‘Oh?’

  Telmar smiled. ‘Secrets, my lady, are the thread that weaves in-between knowledge and truth. Forever together, always apart, is how I would define it.’

  Cinnibar burst out laughing. ‘If that is a famous quote then I’ve never heard of it.’

  ‘It’s from my father’s journals.’

  She stopped laughing and became instantly serious. ‘Ah, yes, that sounds like one of Efron’s.’

  ‘You knew him?’

  She nodded, ‘Efron came to us for help with his studies. The Order has a library of literature that…shall we say…is not conventional to current learning? Needless to say he piqued our interest.’

  ‘He was a member of the Order?’ Telmar asked in surprise.

  ‘Yes, to learn from our library one has to be. Of course, the rule is that our members must share any new found knowledge they discover. That is all we ask of them. Your father was a little unforthcoming in that department. Let us hope you are a little less reticent than he was.’

  Telmar lent back onto the rear of the couch. ‘To be honest, my lady, father’s work was sometimes closed to me also. What I am here to do is to find a way to prove my visions are real.’

  Cinnibar frowned, ‘visions?’

  Telmar lent forward. ‘Visions such as you. A vision of beauty.’

  Cinnibar laughed and handed back Basilisk, ‘Ha! Vanduke was right about you, you are a charmer.’

  ‘I have my moments. So what is this Forbidden History?’

  Cinnibar stood and brushed her skirt. ‘What do you know about the Elemental War?’

  Telmar shook his head. In truth, he knew as much as anyone else and a little extra information from Harlequin. It was a part of his people’s history that was rarely taught in schools.

  The countess held out her hand to him, ‘come with me and I will take you to the library. A place only Acolytes of the Fifth Circle may enter for the first time to seek out knowledge.’

  6

  ‘About three thousand years before the Assassi stepped foot on Tattoium-Tarridun,’ explained Cinnibar as they entered an antechamber that looked like a small study. Books adorned shelves on every wall apart from the tall window to their left, where there sat a desk and a tall oil lamp. ‘There was a terrible war against the Eldi and the Elementals. The particulars of the tale are lost to history, needless to say, the armies of the Eldi crushed the Elementals and the losers were persecuted for centuries afterwards. Most were scattered to the four corners of the globe.’ At this point she reached out to the nearest bookshelf and touched three books quickly, there was a whirling noise, a succession of clicks, and then a portion of the bookcase swung open to reveal another room beyond, cloaked in darkness.

  ‘The atrocities of that war were wiped from historical record by the most powerful people of that time,’ she said as they entered the room, ‘the Eldi.’ She raised her hand and a dozen candelabra ignited into flame. They cast shadows across the floor but revealed a long glass cabinet angled at forty-five degrees to reveal its contents under the glass. Inside, resting on bluish crushed silk, were eleven red leather books of equal size. Each had a single Skrol symbol embossed on the cover. Even with a glance Telmar knew what they said.

  ‘Do you know what these are?’ Cinnibar asked.

  Telmar knew, though he also knew that his answers were being scrutinised by the countess and if he were to be a trusted member of the Brethac Ziggurat then she would be looking for him to fulfil that trust. It seemed to him that if he wanted to discover his own answers about the Door or his Pyromantic affliction, then the Brethac Order were the ones to fill in the gaps.

  He made his decision quickly. ‘Yes, I have one just like these others back home. They are the Grymwards of the Eldi.’

  Cinnibar breathed in sharply, her eyes wide. ‘The tomb of the Elder Styx, you know he has it in his arms.’

  ‘He did,’ nodded Telmar. ‘My father managed to get into the tomb. I have it now.’

  ‘That’s impossible! There have been many attempts to get the book, but the tomb would not open, I… you, have the book?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘And have you read it?’ she asked with interest. Clearly, she knew of Telmar’s skills at deciphering Skrol.

  Telmar decided not to answer her. Instead, he walked towards the cabinet and pointed to each book in turn. ‘Owen, Sevaris, Fevill, Eighthan, Ninnian, Tenn, Fourrin, Veltigen, Tselios, Theron and Tro-Altris. If each of these is written in the same cryptic code as Styx’s, than we shall have trouble trying to crack it.’

  Cinnibar seemed to deflate before him. ‘For a moment there I thought you were going to say yes. Many scholars of the Order have tried in vain to decipher the Grymward’s of the Eldi. The secrets they possess are astronomical.’

  Telmar tended to agree with her on that score. If she knew about Styx’s discovery of the Mastirton Maelstrom and his ability to time travel, then the Brethac Ziggurat would be all-powerful. Yet he made no mention to her about it, and I am grateful for that.

  ‘The code within Styx’s is a version of the ancient Coptic Versant. It was used many years ago in Summerland Amon,’ he continued. ‘However; the problem is not finding the key to unlocking the code, that part is easy. The problem is the arrangement of the anagrammed cyphers.’

  Cinnibar was looking at him with barely disguised anticipation.

  ‘They are mixed into a mathematical theorem that is equally simple and complex in its design. The entire numerical system in Styx’s Grymward alone is vast. To add these others to it would make it so astronomical that all the stars in the cosmos would only cover a fraction of its formula,’ said Telmar, rubbing his chin.

  ‘So it’s impossible?’

  ‘Nothing is impossible, my lady,’ he turned to her with a playful smile, ‘you and I are not impossible.’

  If the bold comment surprised the countess, she hid it well behind a smile of her own that lit up her features. ‘Telmar.’ she said coyly, ‘I am almost a hundred years your senior.’

  ‘And you
do not look a day over twenty-five.’

  She walked towards him and cupped his face in one hand. He felt a thrill run through his body, a slight jolt of electricity at her touch and a slight sense of dizziness, and then it disappeared as quickly as it started.

  Cinnibar was frowning. ‘You are unlike any man I have ever met.’

  ‘And you are unlike any countess I ever seduced.’

  She giggled, it was light and airy and Telmar knew instantly that it was an act. There was something deep and hidden about this woman. The façade he saw was not her true persona and this intrigued him immensely.

  She kissed him them, her tongue probed into his mouth and he felt that strange sensation again. It tickled through his body and then disappeared. If he did not know better, he would think she was trying a Thought Link, but he knew the signs and his own mental walls were up. No, this was something else, some other power probing his body.

  ‘He pulled away from her, ‘Abstract Solutions!’ he cried.

  Cinnibar looked confused. ‘Sorry… what?’

  ‘There are always solutions,’ he said and turned away from her and back to the cabinet. ‘My theories on Cosmic Laws and Abstract Solutions could be the way of getting through the walls of this conundrum.’

  ‘Then you must stay and solve it.’

  ‘I cannot, my lady, I have business back home. But I will return within the month.’

  She remained silent and looked from him to the books.

  ‘It must be a great secret to hide it within a complex code?’ he said.

  She nodded. ‘It is.’

  ‘I know little of the Elemental War, only what I have picked up in books, it seems the history of that time has been lost.’

  ‘Not lost as such, eradicated,’ said Cinnibar. With some vehemence she pointed towards the books. ‘Thankfully, the Eldi could not destroy history completely, so they hid it in their journals. What knowledge we do have has come to us by word of mouth.