Battlefield of the Sacred Land

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Battlefield of the Sacred Land Page 15

by Mark E. Tyson


  “Master?” Morgoran said. “You haven’t called me that since Sylvalora released my curse.”

  Shey blushed.

  “All right. What is all this about?” Dorenn asked. “I got the feeling this man was about to stab me with that dagger.”

  “Ah, very keen observation. I was indeed thinking about gutting you. I was hired to do so,” Kothos said. Dorenn suddenly became very uneasy.

  Morgoran chuckled. “Relax, Dorenn. Kothos is on our side. He used to be an apprentice of Toborne. He wouldn’t harm you.”

  Dorenn was not so sure.

  “Speaking of my old master, I would like to clear something up. He wasn’t trying to control the Silver Drake to command an army against you. He was trying to use her to form an army to destroy Golvashala.”

  “Sure he was,” Gondrial said.

  “Dorenn now has Toborne’s thoughts within him. Ask him,” Kothos directed.

  Dorenn cleared his throat. “I do get that sense from him, but Toborne is unreliable and I don’t trust anything I get from him.”

  “Well, trust this. There is a portal at Asperden called the Triangle. It is an ancient, unreliable portal to the Sacred Land. Unreliable but fairly safe when it does connect up. The king has been getting reports that the Sacred Land is becoming host to unlife. The armies of Scarovia and Abaddonia are also marching for a rendezvous with Kambor. I can arrange for you to send a scouting party there to spy on Kambor and see what he’s up to.”

  “I will go,” Dorenn said, “after I meet with my parents, of course.”

  Kothos picked up a nugget of bread and ate it. “No, you will not be going. I have instructions from your father to train you. I see you carry a sword. I will train you how to use it properly.”

  “I already know how to use it,” Dorenn said defensively.

  Gondrial was shaking his head no to Kothos.

  Dorenn noticed him. “What, Gondrial? I trained with Swordmaster Grint at Brookhaven.”

  “And it shows,” Gondrial said, “and I don’t mean that as a compliment.”

  “Kothos is as a master of sword, dagger, and other instruments of war as I am with essence,” Morgoran said. “You could not do better than to train with him. Dorenn, you know there will be battles ahead and you better know how to defend yourself, and essence wielding isn’t always enough. Rennon, you will train with your daggers with him as well.”

  Rennon nodded. “Fine by me.”

  “When we get to Asperden, Shey, I want you, Seancey, Gondrial, and Deylia to go scout out Kambor in the Sacred Land.” He looked to Dorenn. “With Your Grace’s permission, of course,” Morgoran said.

  “What?” Dorenn thought it was silly to call him by some meaningless title. “I don’t like being called that.”

  “Nevertheless, Your Grace, it is your station now and you best be getting used to it. You are about to be called that a lot when we arrive in Asperden,” Kothos said. He abruptly turned his eyes to the double doors of the inn. “Ah, it arrives,” he said.

  A man entered the inn, wearing traveling clothes and looking somewhat haggard. He was about to say something when Kothos sent his dagger sailing through the air without even getting up from his seat. The dagger stuck in the man’s chest, and he began to writhe and change form. At first Dorenn thought it was a Drasmyd Duil, but its features were different. It collapsed onto the floor.

  “That is a dark dragon knight of the Duil clan, able to change shape on demand,” Kothos said. “Sent to get close to you and assassinate you.” He smirked at Dorenn. “There will be more tonight, I’m sure. Get all your things together, and we will be off to Asperden. I brought you horses. Meet me in the stables in half an hour.” Kothos got up and walked over the dead dragon knight and out the door, whistling a tune.

  Chapter 18: King and Prince

  “Why all the theatrics back there at the inn?” Dorenn asked Kothos as they rode out of the city of Ardmore, Ardenia.

  “There’s much one can tell from another’s reactions,” he answered. “Sometimes it’s the only way to see the real person from the façade.”

  Morgoran chuckled. “I think he rather enjoys it, Dorenn. Don’t be fooled.”

  “Dorenn,” Lady Shey called out from behind, “would you please join Gondrial and I? We would like to have a word with you before we arrive in Asperden.”

  Dorenn reluctantly let his horse canter down to match Shey and Gondrial’s speed. “What is it?”

  Shey watched Kothos for a long moment and then leaned toward Dorenn to whisper, “Don’t go getting too friendly with him. He’s a dark wielder.”

  Dorenn became frustrated. “What does that even mean? Neither of you have ever mentioned a dark wielder to me before. Drawing essence is the same for all wielders, right?”

  “More or less,” Shey said.

  “So, how can one be a dark wielder? They use essence for more nefarious intentions?”

  “Sometimes, but that isn’t what makes them dark wielders in our way of thinking. Dark wielders, during some part of their lifetime, have tapped into the essence that flows from dead things.”

  “Necromancers?” Dorenn asked, trying to understand what Shey was telling him.

  “No, dark wielders do not try to raise the dead or interact with the dead. They have simply, at some point, drawn essence to fuel their magic from something that had died. It’s unnatural and it taints our kind forever,” Shey explained.

  “So, that time we were low on rations and you used essence to cook those rabbits because it was too dangerous to build a fire, you drew on dead essence?”

  Lady Shey slapped her forehead.

  “Allow me,” Gondrial said. He rode up next to Dorenn and whacked him in the back of the head.

  “Oww, what was that for?” Dorenn complained.

  “I know you are playing dumb,” Gondrial said. “Stop it.”

  Dorenn grinned. “All right. Drawing essence from dead things is bad, but drawing essence from other sources to cook dead things is fine.”

  “Look, touching essence from the unlife, the risen, or the undead is bordering on evil because they are unnaturally animated. No one knows for sure how they were made or why Loracia allows them to roam,” Lady Shey began. “It changes the way a wielder thinks, the way a wielder behaves, and the way a wielder uses magic. Just stay away from him.”

  “But he is a warder. He is the advisor to the king, my father. How could he be in such a high position if he is dangerous?”

  Gondrial gave Shey a perplexed look. “That’s exactly what’s bothering us.”

  “I am not the boy you found in Brookhaven. I can speak with him without being influenced by him. Trust me. I will let you know if he says or does anything I deem out of the ordinary.” With that, Dorenn snapped his reins and rejoined Morgoran, Ianthill, and Kothos.

  “They’re right, you know,” Kothos said. “I am deemed a dark wielder. I was young and petulant, high strung, you might say. It was on the battlefield of the Sacred Land during the War of the Oracle. I was faced with one of Kambor’s unseen. The spell to reveal them had already been cast, so it wasn’t as unseen as you might imagine. The creature was upon me and my companions. It killed all but me. The land was already depleted and devoid of essence where I stood, so I used the only source I could find—my dead companions. I defeated the unseen and survived. Now, I’m tainted forever, it seems.”

  “I already know all about you, and I don’t care about your explanation,” Dorenn said flatly. He glanced at Kothos, who was trying to hide his surprise.

  “As you wish, Your Grace, but might I inquire as to—”

  “No, you may not. You are here to do a job, and I expect you to do it. That’s all.”

  “Very well.” Kothos nodded.

  Dorenn’s mind was filled with visions from the battle, given to him by one of the essences he carried within him. Kothos tended to be crafty, manipulative, and sly according to what he saw. He would indeed hold him at arm’s length.

  At
the main gates of Asperden, Ardenia, the melting snow had choked the causeway with thick mud. The Ascene Mountains in the background were majestic and snow-crowned. Despite the appearance of spring, the air was still very cold. A few strides inside the gates and the mud gave way to cobblestones. They were soon joined by the king’s guard who led them through the grey cobblestone streets to the king’s palace at the center of town. The buildings of Asperden were old but well kept. They had been built up to two and three levels above the streets. The palace was enclosed by another high gate, but not so high that the towers and spires of the magnificent structure could not be seen. At the palace entrance, stable hands rushed to take their horses. As soon as Dorenn walked into the foyer, his senses were assaulted with the unmistakable smell of Dellah Adair’s cooking. The smell brought back so many fond memories, and his stomach growled for food he had been parted from for far too long.

  “By the gods!” Rennon said. “I didn’t know how much I missed that smell!”

  “It does smell divine. I look forward to meeting your mother,” Seandara said to Dorenn.

  The throne room was much older and majestic than the rooms Dorenn had seen in Symboria. The stonework and statues of kings and queens of old situated in rounded recesses were so detailed, they looked as if they might come down and join them. The ceiling was at least fifty craftsmen’s feet high. Woolen rugs topped with cherrywood furniture upholstered with fine fabrics dotted the common area before the stage with the two thrones of Ardenia.

  “Dorenn, my son!” Lourn Adair, dressed in kingly garb, said as he rushed down from the throne.

  “Your Grace!” one of the attendants was saying. Obviously visitors were meant to approach him, not the other way around.

  “Oh, hush! This is my son!” He reached Dorenn and grasped him by the shoulders. “You look well, my son.”

  “Father,” Dorenn said.

  The big man embraced him. “Your mother will be so proud to see you. She has been in the kitchens for two days directing the cooks to prepare all your favorites. Come, sit beside the throne and tell me everything!” He directed Dorenn to his throne and had the attendants bring chairs to the stage for everyone else to sit on. He noticed Rennon. “Rennon.” He hugged him. “You still need a haircut. I will have the royal barbers summoned at once.”

  “Please, no, Your Grace,” Deylia pleaded suddenly.

  King Lourn looked at Deylia. “Oh, you have an admirer, Rennon, lovely.”

  “Father, this is Deylia of Trigothia,” Dorenn announced.

  Lourn took her hand and kissed it. Deylia genuflected.

  “You remember Lady Shey and Gondrial?” Dorenn said.

  Lourn kissed Lady Shey’s hand and moved to Gondrial. “You appear familiar. Did you visit the inn in Brookhaven? I seem to remember a scoundrel that matched your appearance.”

  “Never mind,” Gondrial said, bowing to the king. “There is no scoundrel here now.”

  “I should hope not,” Lourn replied. He noticed Ianthill and Morgoran standing patiently at the rear of the party. “And who might this be?”

  “Morgoran and Ianthill of the First Trine, Father,” Dorenn said. He was so used to them by now that they weren’t so special to him, but as soon as he introduced them, every servant and attendant bowed deeply to the old wizards, and Lourn gasped, clearly not sure what he should do.

  He began to bow as well, but Morgoran interceded. “Oh no, Your Grace. You are a sovereign king. You do not bow to anyone but the gods.”

  Lourn straightened. “So nice to meet you both. It pleases me that my son keeps such high company.”

  “Father, I understand there is an old portal in your palace, which connects to the Sacred Land. After we all eat, I was hoping to send a scouting party through it to check on Kambor.”

  Lourn looked to Kothos, who nodded.

  “Good. Now that that’s settled, where are my manners? I’m sure you’re all starving.”

  Dorenn agreed. “Especially since we can smell the food all over the palace.”

  “We have plenty of time to discuss business afterward. Let us find your mother and adjourn to the royal dining room,” King Lourn said.

  Dellah Adair was her usual accommodating self at supper. She flitted about, checking on everything from the food to Dorenn’s wellbeing. She stopped momentarily to speak and catch up with Lady Shey before she was off and at it again. Her kitchen and wait staff was running ragged trying to both keep up with her and remind her that she was the queen now and not a lowly servant girl. One of the servant girls was almost to tears until Lady Shey took her aside because she could not serve faster than Dellah and she felt like she was failing the queen.

  As soon as the meal was over, Dorenn was anxious to send his scouting party to the Sacred Land. He wanted to tell the other Trigothian kings and noblemen, who were on their way to Asperden, that he had a scouting party currently keeping an eye on Kambor. Morgoran and Ianthill would stay to help him persuade them it was necessary to mobilize a new army. He understood why his father balked at sending them away so fast when Sylvalora arrived just before nightfall. She wanted to brief her daughter and adopted son before they left.

  Dorenn didn’t fully trust Kothos, however, so he insisted on being present when Lady Shey, Gondrial, Deylia, and Seancey went through the portal. Once his scouting party was safely away, he joined his mother and father in the meeting hall with Ianthill, Morgoran, Rennon, Seandara, Sylvalora, and Kothos. They discussed how they would greet the dignitaries the next morning and re-acquainted themselves. Dellah quizzed Seandara about her feelings for Dorenn, much to Dorenn’s dismay, and Lourn learned the formal greetings of the kings of Trigothia from Kothos, Morgoran, and Ianthill.

  It was nearly midnight before Rennon, Dorenn, and Seandara were able to retire to their bedchambers within the palace.

  “Why did you say you were in such a good mood, Rennon?” Dorenn asked.

  Rennon looked apprehensively at Seandara.

  “Seandara can keep secrets. I trust her. Go ahead, tell me.”

  Rennon’s smile returned to his lips. “She told me she did have feelings for me. She asked me to wait on her to come back to me.”

  “Who, Deylia? I thought she made it clear to you that she didn’t want any kind of relationship,” Dorenn said.

  Seandara laughed. “I could have told you that, Rennon. She goes on and on about you when you’re not around.”

  “She does?”

  “Aye, almost to the point we have to shut her up about you. Lady Shey told her pointblank the other day just to tell you she is in love with you and be done with it.”

  “I don’t believe you. She always pushes me away when she’s near. That is, until today when she had to leave with the scouting party.”

  There came a knock at the door, and Dorenn went to answer it. It was Morgoran. He poked his head in the door. “Tomorrow is going to be a long day. You should all get your sleep. Dorenn, you especially. You will want to be fresh and sharp in order to navigate the political landscape you are about to encounter. These kings and dignitaries are experts at manipulation and finding ways to benefit themselves and their kingdoms over you and yours.”

  Attendants woke Dorenn early the next morning. The warder of the city-state of Trigoth and his wife had arrived. Dorenn had almost forgotten that the old capital city of Trigothia had been split into three districts, one for each Trigothian kingdom, but governed itself. He was led to the baths where attendants helped him bathe and get dressed in new, more princely clothes. His tunic was maroon and white with gold stitching, and the cuffs of his long sleeves had the embroidered maroon and white orchid of the Ardenian crest.

  He was ready to join his companions for breakfast when an attendant informed him the king of Sythia had arrived. The Adracorian king was in the kingdom and was being escorted by the elite Knights of the Orchid, the Ardenian royal knights. He was surprised when breakfast was catered to him, and he ate it alone. Apparently, everyone was occupied with pre
parations and being bathed and dressed.

  When he was finally escorted to the throne room, the first person he laid eyes upon was Seandara. She was wearing an elegant dress with the green and brown colors of her people. It sparkled and twinkled in the sunlight coming from the giant sky window of the palace. Rennon caught his eye next, dressed in the sapphire blue of Symboria. His long hair was tied back in a neat ponytail. Ianthill was standing behind Dorenn’s father, pointing to a map laid out on a small table. He was dressed in his usual red robes. He was clean-shaven, and his white hair had been cut short again. Morgoran stood to his left, dressed in his traditional blue. His white beard and long white hair was combed and styled neatly.

  “His Majesty, the prince of Ardenia, Dorenn Adair,” the attendant announced when he entered. Dorenn was still going to have to get used to all this royalty nonsense. He made his way directly to where Rennon and Seandara waited.

  “His Majesty, King Xephram Adrac IX, king of Adracoria, and Her Majesty, Queen Seline.”

  Everyone who was seated stood as the king and his queen entered the room. Dorenn glanced around the room, but he didn’t see the king of Sythia.

  “His Majesty, King Hanlin Arasyth XVIII, king of Sythia, and Her Majesty Queen Avarah.”

  The two kings exchanged niceties and then joined Lourn and Dellah in the circle of chairs that had been arranged for all of them.

  The warder of Trigoth stood in the middle of the circle. “I would like to invite everyone to take their seat within the circle so that we may begin.”

  Dorenn realized the chairs all had names placed on the backs. He was seated next to his mother, of course. Next to him was Rennon and then the king and queen of Adracoria. Seandara sat opposite him and between the queen of Adracoria and the king of Sythia. The warder and his wife completed the circle up to his father.

  “For those of you who are unfamiliar with me, I am Josiah Bomar, warder of the city-state of Trigoth”—he indicated his wife—“and this is my lovely wife, Ari. Since all of your kingdoms are represented within my city, I have been tasked with officiating over this meeting. Are there any objections?” No one objected. “Good, let us begin.” He picked up a parchment and read from it for a moment. “Due to the danger coming from the Sacred Land, King Lourn I of Ardenia has proposed, at the behest of the remaining members of the First Trine, that the ban on magic and wielders be lifted and the remaining Enforcers in all Trigothian kingdoms be disbanded. Furthermore, it has been proposed that the academy on the isle of Rugania be reinstated to train new wielders.”

 

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