Bound in Stone 3

by K. M. Frontain

  The Shadow Master stepped out of sight. Servants appeared and lifted a padded blanket. Eshaia gaped at the distant tent until the cover blacked the magical surface out. The mirror face lightened, and she gazed upon herself, herself within a tower in the company of a tall and hideous soldier who stared at her. She watched the image in amazement as the man reached up and grabbed her bodice. The soft fabric ripped all the way down to her crotch. Then he was on her, suckling a breast and reaching up into her skirts.

  “Oh!” she cried.

  He thrust his fingers in hard. She stumbled, legs spreading involuntarily. She grasped his head, a shoulder, and clung to him. His fingers pulled out and punched in again, more of them this time. He ground his knuckles into her soft flesh. His head tilted to let teeth grip the other nipple. His mouth closed on it and sucked hard inward. Again the fingers rammed her, and she buckled over his back with a massive orgasm. He gave her five more before she finally remembered to try harder searching for Ugoth’s signature.

  ***

  Marun stalked out of the tent. Within seconds, his servants carried the covered mirror out to the waiting cart, to the side of which King Gehest of Winfel sat his horse and observed in silence. He was carefully respectful to Marun, neither looking him in the eye, nor turning away completely. Gehest, the puppet, was a man waiting for orders.

  King Quei of the Stohar sat a large dappled stallion next to his Winfellan counterpart. He was a mature man, brutally scarred over his brow, but a helmet usually hid the old wound. Just now, with his head bared, he scowled openly at the sorcerer, and the disfigurement made his expression appear murderous. Perhaps it was.

  Quei was not a coward. Marun respected him for that. The Shadow Master had spent years gathering forces to deal with just his first target, the Stohar. King Quei had been a formidable opponent. Now he was the formidable general of Marun’s combined armies. He played his part quite vocally.

  “We should use the mirror to invade their capitol! Why do you not take this opportunity?”

  “The castle tower had been warded, Majesty,” Marun said mildly. He walked toward his horse and mounted. “If we attempt to go through the tower doors, we will trigger the defences. It is set to repel invaders. The monks of Saint Turamen thought of this long ago. The wards are more powerful than any I have ever encountered. They are ancient and show no evidence of lessening in strength. They have been added to yearly.”

  “How do you know?” Quei demanded. “I looked in with you at the whore queen last night. I saw only an undefended tower.”

  “Your eyes are mundane blind, Quei.” Marun set his mount in motion. “If you care to touch the door of that tower, I shall let you walk in and do so. Just tell me who your replacement is before you go. I will be needing him.”

  Quei stared at the sorcerer and then shrugged. “I’ll take your word for it.”

  Marun barely smiled in response.

  “What about the soldier you sent in for the whore?”

  “He won’t trigger it.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because eventually I will give him a potion permitting him to pass the ward as the Ulmeniran king.”

  “The hairs are for this?”

  “One of the hairs is for this,” Marun said. “The rest are for making King Ugoth suffer.”

  Quei silently thanked the gods no one had betrayed him to this unholy man. “How did you know that soldier would appeal to the whore queen?”

  “The coven. Divinations of the new moon.”

  “Seriously? That’s disturbing. They can see into our dreams during the dance of the new moon?”

  “They can see into another woman’s dreams, depending on the willpower of the victim. Besides, the intelligence reports on Ufrid Tyrunath indicate he likes to play rough with his bedmates. It stands to reason the Ulmeniran queen wants more of the treatment he gave her, since she’s pined after him for so long.”

  “Oh,” Quei said. He was truly glad no one had betrayed him to this unholy man. There was nothing more ignominious than getting cuckolded by a woman. Quei didn’t think much of the Ulmeniran monarch, who’d been blind to his queen’s treason for so many years.

  Quei and the sorcerer had ridden level with the ghoul army. The stench was appalling. The freshest corpses lined the outer flank. Quei was not an easy man to disturb, but he averted his gaze. The little boys stared at Marun, a guard of dead children, all of red locks and pale skin, a line that seemed to continue endlessly.

  ***

  “Oh! You are simply beautiful,” Pell whispered. “You have to love me again. Please say you will.”

  Nicky touched her cheek gently. Pell was such a sweet baby. “I’ll think about it,” Nicky teased.

  “Oh! Please!” Pell bent closer and kissed her.

  “Won’t that Zini get jealous?” Nicky said after. “She’ll notice after a bit. You can’t plead tiredness forever.”

  “Not if we share,” Pell said. Nicky smiled. Pell smiled back.

  “Just you keep your promise and don’t let anyone know I’m in your wagon,” Nicky insisted. “I’ll think about sharing with Zini, only if I think she can be trusted with my secret.”

  “I won’t tell! Even if we don’t mix with Zini.” Pell looked up hastily. “The column has started. I need to get up front.”

  She moved forward and slipped through the front cover, seating herself on the canvas to keep it from flapping open during the march. Nicky sighed and squirmed deeper into the small cot. A blanket nailed at the ceiling to the wooden bows formed a second curtain in case the back cover blew open. Nicky tucked the extra blind more securely around the cot and relaxed at last.

  She was damned tired. The elven paths were a drain on her stamina, but luck had been with her when she’d happened across the white witch searching for herbs in the woodlands last night. Now at least she could sleep while travelling, so long as she wasn’t discovered.

  But she couldn’t seem to settle. Her mind refused to let go of the dilemmas she dearly wanted to resolve, and Pell had related disturbing events that had increased her anxiety. The young witch had told her of Kehfrey dancing in the glade. Nicky wished she had seen it herself.

  “What are you, Kehfrey?” she whispered. “Why were you in Ugoth’s tent all last night? Why?”

  She shivered with dread.

  Don’t be in love with him, Kehfrey. Please, don’t be. Your heart will break.

  Even as she thought it, she knew it was already too late. It had probably been too late years ago. Ugoth was exactly the right sort of person to make Kehfrey fall and fall hard. She had tumbled into a solid friendship and flipped it upside down. She had forced Kehfrey up on the scaffold. But now the trap had been pulled. Kehfrey was hanging and didn’t know it yet.

  “I have to tell him!”

  She shut her eyes on the agony. She couldn’t tell him. Not yet. Let him have some time. Let him have more sweet time.

  Tears bled from the corners of her eyes. She shoved her face into the pillow and wept.

  ***

  Half the day passed and King Ugoth had suffered enough of marching his horse along the column with only mordant Ufrid for company. Rather abruptly and with no explanation to his brother, he directed his mount about and sent it thundering along the side of the wide file of soldiers. His royal guard shoved through the train and trotted after him.

  Ufrid remained in the column, but twisted in his saddle to watch. Ugoth was in a rotten mood. Halfway through the morning, he’d threatened to punch in the side of his brother’s head if he so much as opened his mouth again that day. Ufrid had wisely kept his mouth shut since.

  Ugoth reached the portion of the column where the Turamen monks marched. He stared in at them, scanning for unnatural red. He saw what he wanted shortly, a thatch of metallic flame hinting between taller bodies, and soon Herfod jogged out from between the marching holy men, followed immediately after by his gang of protectors.

  “What is it?” he called up.

 
“I’m bored to bloody death,” Ugoth snarled.

  Herfod smiled. “So you came looking for trouble? Here I am!”

  One of his protectors laughed. Ugoth’s gaze turned into a forbidding glare. “Hello, Keth,” he greeted. “Heard you broke an arm.”

  “All better now, Majesty,” the young man said brightly, not the least perturbed by the king’s unfriendly expression. He and Ugoth had sparred in the past. They were about even.

  “Want another one tonight? I need a workout,” Ugoth offered.

  “Uh, no thanks,” Keth demurred, not liking the sinister undertone. He’d obviously pissed the king off, but he didn’t know how he’d managed it. “It’s our turn latrine digging tonight. Need my arms in working order.”

  “Shit,” Herfod hissed. “Are we all posted for latrine tonight?” Keth nodded. Herfod scowled. “Well. Should have showed up tomorrow.”

  Keth and some of the others laughed. “You disappear again, we’ll break your legs,” Keth threatened.

  “Not before I do,” Ugoth interjected. He dismounted and led his horse alongside the column. Herfod stepped up to his side and they walked without further speech. Ugoth, rather than looking for trouble, had come looking for calm. He found it walking beside his friend. Herfod, despite his voluble tendencies, could be as soothingly silent as a summer breeze. He always knew when to shut up. Most of the time.

  After about a half hour of quiet walking, the gang of protectors began to whisper and toss jokes about the white witches working with others of the Turamen monastery. Some of the gags were bold coming out of the mouths of holy brothers. Ugoth looked askance at Herfod and saw that he paid no attention to the idle talk. Rather, he frowned at the earth with an almost furious expression.

  “What are you thinking?” Ugoth asked.

  “Dragon,” Herfod responded absently.

  “And?”

  “Still working on it,” arrived a curt reply

  Fine. Ugoth knew how to shut up too. He stepped on and waited. For a bit.

  “Chemical fire shot in the mouth,” he said abruptly.

  “Problem,” Herfod countered.

  “What problem?”

  “How to know where it comes up so the chemical fire can be tossed in.”

  “Right,” Ugoth acknowledged.

  Herfod suddenly sidestepped and then retreated back down the column past his gang.

  “Where are you going?” Ugoth called, hauling his horse around.

  “Have to see Uma,” Herfod called back.

  The king forestalled him. “Wait a moment!”

  Herfod paused and looked back.

  Ugoth stomped closer. “Get Samel first,” he reminded.

  “Oh, right.” Herfod glanced at his gang and directed Oswell to find Samel.

  “What do you need Samel for?” Keth asked, arriving at their sides.

  “He needs to shoot me in case I get into trouble around the witches,” Herfod muttered offhandedly. His mind was back on the problem of the earth dragon.

  “In trouble with the witches?” Keth repeated. A single sandy brow shot up. “It’s that shadowy stuff you’re on about, isn’t it? What do the witches have to do with it?”

  “Their power comes from the same source as the Shadow Master’s,” Ugoth answered. “Were you there when it happened?” He meant the Ancient Power’s attempt on Herfod, but Keth mistook him to mean the dancing in the glade, which happened to be one and the same thing, but Ugoth didn’t know that.

  “Oh, yes! And the first time too,” Keth replied. “Although the first time was amazing!” The king stared at him fixedly. Keth knew him well enough to understand that look. He lifted an inquiring brow. “You don’t know what I’m talking about, do you?”

  “He only knows I got into trouble,” Herfod said, “not what I was doing to get into trouble.”

  “What were you doing?” Ugoth asked suspiciously.

  “He was dancing!” Keth said brightly. “Blue lights everywhere!”

  “That was the first time,” Brother Henrel interjected. By this time, the gang had surrounded monarch and favourite subject. “It was down in the dell below the city wall. Blue lights and shadows twisting with morning sunlight. Water sparkling like diamonds running through the creek.”

  “And that symbol weaving in and out! I still see it. Only I can’t quite see it,” Keth said. The others nodded.

  “Symbol?” Herfod repeated. “What symbol?”

  “You made it,” Keth said. “Don’t you know?”

  “I had no idea I made a symbol. What did it look like?”

  “What the hells is going on,” Ugoth asked.

  “I don’t know what it looked like,” Henrel said. “It kept fading. It was really strange. I could almost read it. I almost knew what it meant. Then away it went! And as soon as it was gone, poof, my memory of its shape was gone.”

  “Me too,” Lars said. “It was just like it was sitting buried in my head. Only I couldn’t dig the meaning out.”

  “What are you talking about?” Ugoth snarled, ready to grab someone and shake him to death, Herfod in particular.

  “I’ll tell you tonight,” Herfod tried to placate him.

  “You tell me? You never tell me everything,” Ugoth snapped. “I think you’ve said it all, and then along comes another surprise.”

  “Yeah,” Keth agreed. “He’s a complete pain in the ass. A royal one.”

  Ugoth froze and his face went blank. Meanwhile, Brother Herfod’s skin commenced to glow a burning red. Abruptly he tramped away from his gang, but he pulled up with a quick jerk. The column had been marching all the time they’d been jabbering. The wagons bearing the witches were already trundling by. He started in toward them.

  “Wait a minute,” Ugoth barked, catching him by the sleeve. “Wait for Samel. And what about this second time?”

  “That wasn’t so pleasant. Nothing but shadows. I said I’d tell you later.”

  “That’s what the shooting is for, obviously,” Keth put in. “We had to shoot him three times to get him out of the shadows that night.” He looked at Herfod. “We should have waited until daylight.”

  “It wouldn’t have made a difference. Trust me,” Herfod said flatly.

  “Why were you dancing?” Keth demanded. “What did the abbot want with that?”

  “Leave off! I told you! Quit asking or I’ll give you a load of crud to dig out of your ears.”

  Keth scowled. Ugoth stared from him to Herfod and back. He scowled as well. He recognised that look on Keth’s face. It was pure frustration. It was the type of frustration Ugoth himself often experienced over the troublesome monk. He had a very strong urge to kill Keth, but Oswell returned and saved his cohort’s unwitting life.

  Oswell came back alone. He glowered mulishly at Brother Herfod. “Samel is asleep in the supply wagon. I couldn’t bear to wake him. He stayed up last night and the night before and the night before and—”

  “I get it!” Herfod hissed. “He stayed up worrying over me! Fine! I’ll flagellate my sorry ass for it!” He turned toward Keth. “You see shadow, shoot! You got that?”

  “Sure. No problem,” Keth said crossly. “I’ll shoot your sorry ass for you.”

  Shaking his head in disgust, Brother Herfod marched into the column, followed by a stiffly furious Ugoth, who’d tossed his stallion’s reins up to one of his guards. The king ordered his men to stay out of the column. Keth and the gang trotted behind as he shoved along in Herfod’s wake.

  Herfod spotted Uma sitting in a wagon with Zini and hailed them. The two women had been watching in any case, ready to call him over if they weren’t noticed right away. Herfod slipped through a gap in wagons to reach Uma’s.

  “What is it?” Uma asked.

  “Can any of you feel the shadows of power in the earth beneath our feet?” Herfod asked, pacing alongside the doubletree. He gave the nearest mule a pat on the rump.

  “Yes, some of us,” Uma answered. “Most of us, actually. Why do you want to kno
w?”

  “Earth dragons. They eat earth power,” Herfod replied. “Could you sense something like that coming at you?”

  “You can be sure!” Zini said. “Does Marun have one?”

  “Yes,” he affirmed.

  “We can’t do anything to stop it,” Uma said. “Not if they eat earth magic. That’s all we have.”

  “They eat earth magic?” Ugoth repeated. “You should have told me that earlier, Herfod. If they eat earth magic, why hasn’t the sorcerer’s dragon eaten him?”

  “That man’s primary discipline is summoning,” Herfod said, casting a glance back at Ugoth. “And whatever gets summoned, must be negotiated with.”

  “Negotiated with? You mean enslaved,” Uma said, nose wrinkled up in contempt, “because the Shadow Master enslaves everything.”

  “Not everything,” Herfod disagreed.

  Uma gave him a considering squint. “Yes, well, I suppose you would know,” she said. “But in any case, the secondary discipline of a summoner is always mastery, and if Marun has mastered that dragon, we can’t stop it.”

  Herfod’s lips compressed as he gazed at the witch. Watching his profile, Ugoth guessed he was either concerned or irritated. Likely both. Ugoth decided to get to the bottom of Uma’s loaded hint later; it sounded as if she knew something of Herfod’s past. But right now, the conversation needed to refocus. “We don’t need you to stop it,” Ugoth interposed. “We need you to say where it will surface. I want a barrel of chemical fire dropped into its maw. We need forewarning as to where it will rise.”

  “Forewarning?” Uma murmured. “I suppose it could be done. But it’s not like we can practice such a thing.”