“Who is that man chained up outside?” he asked, with more force than he had expected.
The commander blinked in surprise at the sudden interruption. He rubbed his neck awkwardly, refusing to meet Luxon’s hard stare. Ferran frowned at his young friend; he could sense the magic coursing through his veins.
“He … he is a criminal, a cattle smuggler, nothing more …” Fritin answered nervously. Luxon’s blue eyes bore into the commander’s.
“You’re lying. Tell me who he is,” Luxon demanded. The wizard’s voice grew deeper rose in volume. Yepert threw a surprised look at his friend and the others stepped back. The atmosphere of the room became heavy.
The commander shrank under the wizard’s hard stare, the colour draining from his face.
“Luxon. Stop this,” Ferran said calmly. A breeze began to blow in the room, causing the flames in the fireplace to flicker, and the lit braziers hanging on the walls to extinguish.
Luxon ignored the Nightblade.
Ferran reached into his cloak for the hilt of his tourmaline sword, and Kaiden’s hand drifted for his own blade. Sophia and Hannah retreated to the other side of the room. Yepert however stepped forward, planting himself between the now petrified commander and his friend. Luxon’s eyes were no longer blue, but black and terrible.
“Luxon. Calm yourself,” Yepert pleaded. “Please, you must listen to me. Take control; remember what Master Thanos taught you.” The soft breeze was now a whirlwind and Kaiden and Ferran found it difficult to stand upright.
“What is happening?” yelled Kaiden over the howling winds. Outside the chamber came frantic banging on the door and the shouts of concerned soldiers.
“He has lost control,” Ferran shouted back. “Something has triggered his power. I have seen this once before, long ago. Something is working through him.”
In Luxon’s mind, the horrors of Eclin screamed into his consciousness, and the nightmares he had suffered roared into life. Through the haze, however, he could see Yepert pleading with him.
“Luxon!”
He gasped and staggered backwards. The wind dropped and Hannah rushed forward, catching him before he collapsed entirely. Tears poured from Luxon’s eyes and the colour in his face was gone. He was a deathly white.
Fritin clambered back onto his feet, his back pressed against the wall. The shouts of the soldiers carried through the door.
“I’m fine. Stand down,” he shouted to his men. “Get a medic in here now!”
He stared at the young man who was now unconscious on the floor.
“Release that cur in the chains and bring him to me,” he ordered. “I want some answers.”
* * *
Luxon slowly opened his eyes. He was in a hard bed and covered in thick woollen blankets. Hannah’s head rested on his chest, the gentle rise and fall of her body showing that she was asleep. Sat in a chair on the other side of the bed was Yepert, who was reading a book.
“An interesting read?” Luxon said. His voice sounded croaky, as though he had not drunk for a long time.
Yepert looked up, a soft smile on his face. The mage’s eyes were dark from tiredness. He put down the book and reached for the pitcher of water and cup that was on the floor at his feet.
“Not really,” he replied offering Luxon the cup after filling it with the cool liquid. “I found it in here. It’s just a book on military tactics.”
“How long was I out?”
“Two days. We were afraid you were never going to wake up.” Yepert paused, his brow furrowing into a look of genuine concern. “It was the Void again, wasn’t it?”
Luxon looked away. He had done his best to keep it a secret, but Yepert had found him in a similar state more than once since Eclin. Memories of the long years he had spent in the Void struck without warning. Once, he had collapsed on a walk in the woods outside of Caldaria. He had lost control of his power there, too, and almost set the trees ablaze. Other instances had occurred in the years since, but nothing as serious as now.
“It comes without warning,” he stammered. “Visions burn into my mind until I feel as though I am back there. I see such horror …Fell Beasts … monsters … Danon.”
He downed the contents of the cup and sighed as the water soothed his throat.
“I dread to ask why my throat is so sore,” he muttered.
“It was because of the screaming,” Yepert replied quietly. “Ferran says you have something called Void sickness. He said that long ago, the mages who created the sigil stones and the Nightblades that fought the Fell Beasts often succumbed to it. The Void corrupts the magic in any mage or magic user that comes into sustained contact with it. You went into the very Void itself …”
Luxon stared at the stone ceiling, his mind racing at the revelation. His thoughts drifted back to the man in chains. Why had the attack come when seeing the man? He had to know.
“What time is it?” he asked.
“Not long till dawn,” Yepert replied after yawning loudly.
* * *
Yepert and Hannah helped Luxon get washed and dressed before leading him to the courtyard where the man in chains had been. The man was gone, but a strange sense emanated from the spot where he had been tied up. The hairs on Luxon’s arms stood on end as he approached the spot. He crouched down and touched the ground. Closing his eyes, he focused his magic. He felt a familiar presence … his mother! His eyes snapped open. She had been here, and she had met the chained man. He turned and ran inside the tower, Yepert and Hannah close behind.
Luxon called out for Ferran and the others.
Sophia peered out of a side room and smiled upon seeing him up and about.
“Thank Niveren you’re alright. C’mon,” she said waving for them to follow her. “Ferran is with commander Fritin and the prisoner.” After leading them deeper into the citadel tower, they came to a set of heavy oak doors. Kaiden was stood outside, a grim look on his face. As he spotted their arrival he stepped forward.
“I advised against it, but there was no stopping them,” he said sombrely.
Luxon raised an eyebrow at his tone, but ordered the legionary posted outside to push open the doors.
Luxon strode into the room determinedly, but stopped short as he saw the prisoner on his knees in the centre of the circular room.
Standing over him, rubbing his bloodied knuckles was Ferran. Blood dripped from the prisoner’s lips, and his face was a mass of bruises. Commander Fritin stood by, watching.
“He’s out cold again,” the commander said.
“What is the meaning of this?” Sophia cried from behind him. Ferran stared at his wife.
“He could be a spy for the enemy,” the Nightblade replied weakly. “We had to get answers out of him.”
“By torturing the man?” Sophia snapped, before storming out of the room. Ferran looked at Luxon.
The wizard shook his head disapprovingly, before pushing past Ferran to stand before the beaten man lying on the floor. Hannah hurried over to him and began to tend to his wounds.
“There was no need to torture him. What happened was not his fault,” Luxon said quietly. He knelt down next to Hannah. “Will he be alright?”
Hannah brushed a lock of blond hair behind her ear and closed her eyes. She ran a hand over the wounded man, a faint glow emerging from her palm.
“Yes. I do not sense any permanent damage. I can revive him if you want.”
Luxon nodded and Hannah channelled her magic with an incantation. The light from her hand spread over the prisoner until, with a gasp, he awoke.
“Easy, you’re safe,” Luxon said in a calm voice.
The man looked around in confusion, his eyes wild. Then they settled on Luxon.
“You … you are the one …” he muttered. “The woman told me that you would come. She told me to help you, but I failed!”
Luxon placed a calming hand on the man’s shoulder.
“Who are you?” he asked.
The man stared at him and gulped
before replying.
“My name is Faramond, prince of the Keenlance clan. You are the wizard Luxon Edioz, son of Drusilla Edioz, mistress and keeper of the Diasect.”
Luxon stepped back his heart racing.
“You’re mother came to my tribe for aid,” Faramond said. “She told me to watch out for your coming and to warn you to turn back,” he added, a hint of pleading in his voice.
“Turn back? I have been looking for her for years. Why would I turn back now? She came out of hiding for a reason, and I need to know why.”
The prince looked away, a haunted look on his face.
“I am sorry, but that is all she said to me,” Faramond looked at the wizard pleadingly. “I came to the Watchers to beg for safe passage for my people. The Great Plain is no longer safe. Evil prowls the grasslands and preys on the tribes,” He glared at the now sheepish-looking commander Fritin. “For my trouble, I was attacked and taken prisoner. The legion will pay; they are blind to what is coming.”
Luxon stroked his chin in thought.
“If you promise to take me and my companions to my mother, I will get you released and try to help your people if I can.”
Faramond stared at him for a moment as he considered the offer. A few moments passed before he dropped his head.
“You have a deal, wizard,” he said softly.
* * *
Kaiden stood on the Watchers’ high wall, his gaze focused on the distant horizon. Grey clouds were sweeping across the plain, promising to bring rain. He glanced up at the banner that was flapping gently in the breeze. The seven-pointed golden star of Niveren on the white field, the sigil of his order. He frowned. How could the knights be here? After Eclin, there had been so few of them left alive that it was decided to disband. It had been a terrible decision to make; not once in a thousand years had the order been so decimated. Now as he stood on the walls at the end of the world, the banner of Niveren flew proudly once again.
“Kaiden?”
He turned at the sound of his name.
Sophia was stood at the top of the stone steps which led to the top of the wall. Her cheeks were red from the climb. She pulled her cloak tighter around her body to keep out the chill that was beginning to make its presence known in the autumnal air.
“I asked Fritin about the Niveren flag,” she said as she leaned on the wall next to Kaiden. “He told me that a knight left it here about six months ago, before heading out onto the plains. Apparently, all the knight said was that his was a mission of vital importance. The commander said that he looked as though he had been in the wilderness for a long time, and that his tunic was filthy and his hair wild. Whoever it was hadn’t been near to civilisation in years.”
“Thank you for asking, Sophia,” he said softly. His gaze once again looking to the horizon. Somewhere out there was his wife and daughter.
First he would save them, before worrying about the mysterious knight.
“How are you? You seemed upset with Ferran,” he asked.
Sophia sighed heavily.
“I shouldn’t be mad at him. He was worried about Luxon. Sometimes I forget what he is, and the things he has done in the service of the realm. I forgave him for what he did to my father, but sometimes, like today, the pain and the anger comes flooding back.”
Kaiden nodded.
“It’s hard to escape our pasts,” he said. “No matter how hard we try to put them behind us, they seem to have the nasty habit of coming back to haunt us.”
14.
It had been surprisingly easy to convince commander Fritin to set Faramond free. The smug legion officer had even provided them with an extra horse for him to ride on.
Luxon paced the courtyard nervously. Had he made the right choice? Had his need to find his mother blinded him to danger? Those thoughts tormented him as he walked. The others were nearby checking over their supplies and weapons, and loading them onto their mounts. He looked up when the sound of heavy footfalls sounded on stone. Faramond stood before him. His long hair was now tied into a loose pony tail, and the blood and dirt on his face had been scrubbed clean.
He wore a shirt and greaves made of chainmail and a pair of leather boots with iron soles. His bare arms were muscular, no doubt from the years of shooting a bow that the tribal folk of the plains was famous for. Now that he was back in his armour, Faramond held his head high and confidently. When they had first met, Luxon would never have imagined that the man before him was of noble blood. Now, however, it was apparent.
“They will not return my weapons,” Faramond grumbled as he walked over to Luxon. The man was a good foot taller than the wizard.
Luxon shrugged his shoulders.
“They wouldn’t agree to free you if you were armed. I am sorry.”
“Simpering cowards … they will regret this.” Faramond bellowed out loud: You will regret this! I want my weapons; I will fight any man here for them!”
The others stopped what they were doing, and stared at their new companion. Luxon winced; he could see the patrolling legionaries stop and glare.
“He has a temper …” Yepert muttered.
Luxon hoped that no one would take the tribesman up on his challenge.
A few tense moments passed, before a voice replied.
“I will fight you, you tribal piece of scum,” said a massive legionary, who was pushing his way through a group of his comrades.
Luxon gasped; the legionary was the biggest man he had ever seen. The soldier was as big as a bear. The brute took off his helmet to reveal a shaven head and a face that only a mother could love. A livid red scar ran down the side of his cheek, and his smile revealed a set of broken, yellowish teeth.
“Bolgar! Bolgar! Bolgar!” cheered the legionaries.
Faramond smiled and rubbed his hands together.
“So, you Delfinnians aren’t all cowards,” he mocked. His words caused the growing crowd to boo and jeer. Bolgar laughed heartily.
“I will enjoy pulling your arms and legs off, little man,” the big man chuckled. He turned to his companions and took the two short swords given to him. He threw one to Faramond who caught the blade easily. With impressive skill, Faramond twirled the blade through an intricate pattern in the air until it moved so fast that it was just a blur. Bolgar crossed his massive arms and joked with his friends.
Luxon and the others, meanwhile, had stepped out of the way.
Faramond stopped his display and rolled his shoulders. He then raised the sword point high. With his free hand, he gestured for his foe to attack, a smile on his face.
Bolgar stalked forward, his own sword in an en guard position. The crowd began to cheer as they sensed a good fight was in the offing. The legionaries took bets on the combatants, and gold flowed freely between them.
“I cannot let Faramond be harmed,” Luxon muttered to Yepert. His friend was enthralled at the display; he had long dreamed of being able to wield a sword like the heroes of old. But if Faramond got himself killed, then the one lead Luxon had on his mother’s whereabouts would be lost. He narrowed his eyes and watched the fight closely; if he had to, he would use his power to intervene.
“What is this racket?” bellowed commander Fritin, who had stormed outside, a squad of soldiers at his side. He took one look at Bolgar and Faramond and smiled. Luxon hurried over to him.
“Faramond just wanted his weapons returned, that is all. I tried to explain your decision, but, well … he wasn’t very happy about it. If you would just let us be on our way, I’m sure I can convince him to forget ab–”
Fritin held a hand up dismissively and laughed. He walked forward so that he stood in between the two big men.
“We haven’t had much chance for entertainment in this fortress lately,” he said loudly so that he could be heard by the quickly growing crowd of onlookers. “I will not deny my lads the chance to witness a spectacle such as this”
“I must protest, Commander,” Luxon snapped. He didn’t have time for this foolishness. Fritin glared
at him, all humour gone from his features. Slowly, he stalked toward the wizard, his guards close behind. Luxon tensed as he sensed Ferran and the others move closer. The Nightblade stood at his left, his hand gripping the hilt of his tourmaline blade; to Luxon’s right, Kaiden’s hand rested on the pommel of his own sword.
Fritin stopped short at the sight of their grim expressions. For a moment the tension built to painful levels. The watching legionaries bristled at the standoff. The commander smirked and reached into his tunic pocket. He pulled a piece of paper marked with the seal of the Baron of Champia.
“A rider arrived in the night. He brought a very interesting message from the capital. The king has decreed that all magic wielders are to be outlawed from stepping foot outside of Caldaria. These orders were given by Ricard of Champia, the king’s uncle.” He shrugged his shoulders. “I am in a very difficult position, for you see, here you stand – a wizard, a Nightblade and mages, all far from home.” Fritin turned to face the crowd of soldiers and raised his voice so that all could hear him.
“Do I do as our king commands and arrest these people, or do I follow the request of wielders?”
Luxon and the others slowly stepped backwards towards the horses. Sophia now had her bow drawn and aimed at the commander. Yepert held his short sword at the ready and Hannah gripped her staff tightly, a determined look on her face.
“The king was the one that sent us here in the first place!” Ferran argued. “Lord Davik signed the papers himself, and last time I checked it was he, not Ricard of Champia, that is regent.” His words caused some of the soldiers to call out in agreement. It was well known that there was no love lost between the two most powerful men in the kingdom.
Luxon’s group continued to slowly move back towards the horses. Fritin and his guards drew their swords, eliciting protests from some of the watching legionaries.
“Not all of your men seem to agree with you, Fritin,” Ferran said. “Let us leave, there is no need for violence.”
Luxon stepped forward. He gestured for his friends to lower their weapons. They were outnumbered.
War for the Sundered Crown (The Sundered Crown Saga Book 2) Page 11