Empire of the Saviours (Chronicles of/Cosmic Warlord 1)

by A J Dalton

  ‘Why will it be trying, friend Anupal?’

  The Peculiar picked at a seam on his tunic, avoiding her eyes. ‘Well, I may have been a bit rude to the Saint on the way to find you before. I may have called him a jumped-up little jobsworth. Can you believe he demanded to see my papers or some such, as if a piece of paper could prove my identity? I, Anupal, Lord of … Well, anyway, it was insupportable! I was so irked by the manner of the creature that I couldn’t remain as handsome as I usually am, which meant I couldn’t completely charm him. Then the little runt ordered some of his louts to arrest me because I didn’t have a piece of paper. Well, I was having none of that and ended up causing quite a fracas – or ruckus, whichever. They’ll be on the lookout when we pass through again. We’ll be able to elude the senses of the Heroes without trouble, of course, for you can pass below them and I can pass way overhead, but these Saints are unpredictable, and Virulus may be better prepared to marshal a troubling power against me this time. I’ll annihilate him as necessary, of course, but it would be inconveniencing, eh, and the Overlords might then start complaining and I’ll get no peace whatsoever. I’ll never hear the end of it, as they never forget, these Overlords, and they do like to hold a grudge. Quite tiresome, they can be.’

  ‘Anupal, you said the Overlords are in the Great Temple in the central region, yes? Is not the Great Temple also your home? Why would you live in such a barren place with the Overlords?’

  The Peculiar pulled a face. ‘Well, it’s complicated and a long story. Meanwhile, the night is getting short.’ He dropped his voice an octave and made it thrum soothingly. ‘Enough questions for now, dear one. Go to sleep and have sweet dreams.’

  Her lids became heavy and she yawned. ‘Yes, friend Anupal.’

  Jillan jolted awake, disorientated. Where was he? He was in a room he’d never seen before. There was no one else there. Full daylight came through a pair of shutters, and not the harsh light of a new morning either. It felt closer to the middle of the day. How could that be?

  His head hurt. The room was small and golden-beamed. He lay on a raised bed covered in linen. It was strange to sleep so high off the ground. He pushed over-piled pillows away from him so he could move more freely.

  ‘Taint, are you there? What happened last night?’

  The only reply was from birds twittering beyond the shutters. Their song sounded flat.

  He put his feet on the floor and realised he was only wearing his underclothes. Where were his other clothes? A floorboard creaked beneath his foot and he heard movement in response some distance below. Footsteps on stairs, coming closer. My clothes, where are they? The door to the room began to open.

  ‘Are you awake, dear?’ came Sabella’s voice as the blacksmith’s wife entered. ‘I brought you your clothes. Cleaned and mended.’

  ‘Th-Thank you … ma’am,’ Jillan replied, his tongue feeling thick in his mouth.

  ‘There’s bread and honey below with which you can break your fast. You do like bread and honey, don’t you?’

  ‘Y-yes. It’s my favourite,’ Jillan said with a pang, suddenly missing home. Sabella almost looked like his mother. And she was kind and caring. ‘I’ll be down immediately. I’ll just get dressed.’

  ‘Very good, dear. I’ll set some tea to steeping.’ She smiled gently and bustled out.

  He wasted no time and was soon down in the eating area. Stara sat waiting for him.

  ‘There you are, sleepyhead. Mama said you drank too much ale.’

  ‘Where are Ash and Aspin?’ he asked, for want of anything else.

  ‘They left.’

  ‘Left!’ he panicked. ‘Left for Hyvan’s Cross?’

  ‘No, silly. Left to see Bion. Betha and Ausa wouldn’t just let them leave for Hyvan’s Cross, would they? You don’t like bread and honey, do you? I can have yours if you don’t.’

  ‘Hey, that’s mine!’ exclaimed Jillan, leaping to grab the thick piece of bread just before it got to her mouth. He was starving again.

  ‘Greedy guts!’ she grumped.

  ‘Come now, Stara,’ Sabella chided as she came in with tea. ‘You had several helpings this morning.’

  ‘I’m a growing girl. You say it all the time.’

  ‘Go and hunt for something in the woods if you’re that hungry. Jillan is a guest.’

  ‘The wolf’s out there. It’s not safe.’

  ‘Oh, the wolf wouldn’t attack people,’ Jillan said between mouthfuls. ‘I don’t think so anyway.’

  ‘There you are,’ Sabella said with her arms folded, giving her daughter a hard stare.

  ‘Oh, all right,’ Stara sighed melodramatically. ‘But I’ll never grow up at this rate. I’ll take Jillan to see Bion. Maybe the wizard will give me some honeycomb.’

  ‘Maybe,’ Sabella acknowledged.

  ‘Come on, Jillan. Haven’t you finished yet?’

  ‘Finished,’ he said with a smack of his lips and a slurp of the tea. ‘Thank you, Mrs Ironshoe.’

  ‘You’re welcome, dear. Hurry along now, or the sun will have set before you get back.’

  He looked out through a pair of shutters. The sun was already past its zenith. He pushed back his chair and went after Stara as quickly as he could. They ran past the forge, which was all clanging, hissing, steam and smoke.

  Stara stopped for a moment to watch. ‘That’s Papa fighting a dragon. The clanging is his hammer hitting the dragon’s metal scales. They fight like this all the time. Papa will win and the dragon will be scared for a while, but it doesn’t have a very good memory and will then want to fight him again as if he were a completely different person. Come on then!’

  She ran off, her hair streaming behind her like a comet, and he had to run hard just to keep her in sight. She flitted across the stepping stones of a stream that was so clear its chuckling waters were almost ghostly. They then zigzagged down through a copse of trees, jumping their playful roots. And through a wild meadow of snaring brambles, sleep-filled blossoms and insects and small creatures playing hide and seek. The sun warmed and dazzled them. How can this be winter? he wondered. This place is magical.

  There were standing stones at the end of the meadow, from behind which clouds of smoke were drifting. Snatches of voices came to him on the wind.

  ‘… not so easily persuaded …’ Was that Ash?

  ‘… listen to reason?’ He didn’t know who that was. ‘… think, Aspin?’

  ‘… sure … convinced myself, to be honest.’

  Stara reached the stones, Jillan some seconds after. Stara didn’t even appear out of breath, but Jillan had to lean over with his hands on his knees. There was a long grassy drop straight ahead of him, and he suddenly felt so unsteady on his feet that he let his knees fold so that he could sit on the ground.

  ‘Oof!’ he puffed, taking in the incredible view over which they sat. The land rolled down and down like a swathe of tailor’s cloth, all the way to the distant shears of the horizon.

  ‘Here he is,’ Aspin said, with something like relief in his voice, and passed a long-stemmed pipe to a gnome of a man – whom Jillian took to be Bion – crouched on one of the stones, which lay flat and provided a perfect seat from which to take in the landscape.

  ‘Amazing, isn’t it, Jillan?’ Ash said dreamily as he followed Jillan’s gaze out over the land. The captivated woodsman accepted the pipe from the gnome and took a large draw, exhaling slowly.

  Jillan waved the perfumed smoke out of his face and coughed. ‘Yes, nice hills.’

  ‘How are you, Stara?’ Bion breezed.

  ‘Hungry, of course.’

  ‘Of course. Here’s some honeycomb then. And you’ll find strawberries in the meadow there when you take Aspin and Ash back to the impatient Betha and Ausa. I bet they’re unhappy with me for stealing their suitors away, though it has been for but a handful of moments.’

  ‘Yes, I promised Betha I wouldn’t be long,’ a lazy-lidded Aspin mused, although he showed no sign of wanting to move immediately.


  ‘And Ausa said she might not remember me if I took too long,’ an entranced Ash mumbled, the pipe becoming loose in his hand.

  Bion stretched a hand out and grabbed the pipe before it could fall. He clenched it between his teeth and clapped his hands smartly, making them all start a little. ‘Best be running along then. I’ll see you later. I need to have a talk with Jillan here. Stara, help them up.’

  The girl pulled on Ash and Aspin until they got to their feet, and then they were stumbling after her. Aspin only remembered at the last moment to turn and give Jillan a clumsy wave. Then they disappeared beyond the stones.

  The gnome’s face was gnarled and nobbled like wood, but was natural and characterful rather than ugly. He had a hunched back, long spatulate fingers and was dressed in leathers of unusually bright red and green. Jillan realised he was probably staring at the man.

  ‘Sorry,’ he said.

  Creases appeared at the corners of Bion’s eyes as he scrunched his face into a smile. ‘Quite all right. Better to take a straight and honest look rather than steal a sly and sideways glance. So, you’re a wizard, are you?’

  Had Ash and Aspin told Bion everything? ‘Not really.’

  ‘Oh. A pity. I was hoping to meet a fellow wizard. Can be lonely being the only wizard in a place.’

  Jillan hesitated. ‘Well, certain things have happened, but I wouldn’t say I’m a wizard.’

  ‘Hmm. Have you had any training?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Pity. I was hoping you might be able to train me some. Oh well. Want a puff on my pipe?’

  ‘No, thanks,’ Jillan replied politely.

  ‘’Sall right. It was only by way of friendship.’

  Jillan remained silent and began to feel awkward. He looked out at the view again. It hadn’t changed. He felt Bion’s eyes on him and shifted uncomfortably. What was he doing here? If they didn’t leave soon …

  ‘So what is it you want to know, Jillan?’ Bion suddenly asked, interrupting his thoughts. ‘Ask me about magic. I know all sorts of things.’

  Jillan stole a glance at the gnome. ‘Well, I … Magic is dangerous, isn’t it?’

  ‘Oh yes, very dangerous. Even when the intention behind it is good, all too often innocent people get hurt.’

  Like Karl. ‘But can’t it be controlled?’ he asked, trying to keep desperation from his voice.

  Bion sighed. ‘If only, if only. You see, the magic-wielder draws on the life energy around them and then channels it. But the act of drawing requires them first to use some of their own life energy from their core. The greater the work of magic undertaken, the more the magic-wielder must use of themselves. Their core is essentially lessened by the use of magic. If you’ve used magic at all, you’ll have experienced a terrible tiredness afterwards, no doubt? Yes. The core then demands life energy be drawn to replace that which has been lost. It’s like a hunger or craving. The more a wizard uses magic, the more they are essentially lessened and the greater the hunger becomes. Most tell themselves they can control the hunger, but the hunger becomes greater and greater until eventually it is the hunger that controls the magic-wielder. You asked me if magic can be controlled. When you are young and strong, yes, but ultimately no. Magic ultimately turns all wizards into unthinking, ravening beasts. They lose all feeling and do not care for friends or loved ones. There is only the magic and the need to consume more, even though it is themselves who are being consumed. Fortunately, by the time magic takes control, the wizard’s core has become so lessened that they are weak, twisted and old long before their time. They either simply fade away or they go out in one final blaze of glory. Don’t believe me? Just look at me, Jillan! I was once a strapping and handsome six-foot man.’

  Jillan’s eyes became as large as wagon wheels as he stared at Bion. He did believe him. Hadn’t the taint already taken control of him on several occasions?

  ‘Heh, heh. Well, maybe I wasn’t as tall and handsome as all that. But I was much stronger and straighter.’

  ‘S-so I shouldn’t use magic at all?’

  Bion nodded. ‘Precisely. I hardly use it at all any more myself. I want to enjoy as many days as I can among the good people of Linder’s Drop, smoking my pipe here on my thinking stone and taking in the wonder of the Geas. What better life could there be? It is safe here and I am never forced into using magic. Thomas is a friend to all and his daughters delight the soul, do they not?’

  ‘Yes,’ Jillan replied numbly. He wanted to call on the taint but dared not. It might try to take control of him again.

  ‘Are you sure you don’t want a puff? You look a bit overwhelmed, Jillan. The smoke will calm you and help you see things more clearly.’

  The pipe was pushed into his hand and he held it limply, staring out on the scene in a reverie. Magic was dangerous. It hurt innocent people. It made him into a monster who didn’t care about anyone or anything. It would only make things worse if he tried to help anyone by using it. It would be better if he did nothing and avoided places where he’d be tempted or forced to use his magic. Perhaps it would be better if he stayed in a place like Linder’s Drop instead.

  As the sun touched the horizon, its light refracted momentarily and made him blink. How long had he been sitting here? The pipe had gone out. He thrust it back at Bion.

  ‘I have to go,’ he said urgently. ‘If we don’t leave before its dark—’

  ‘But we didn’t finish our chat about magic, Jillan,’ the gnome reproved him.

  ‘I have to save my parents in Hyvan’s Cross.’

  ‘But they would not want you to risk yourself, Jillan. They helped you escape knowing what it would mean. If you go to Hyvan’s Cross, their sacrifice will have been in vain. And you can’t use magic to free them. They sent you to find Thomas because they wanted him to bring you to Linder’s Drop so that you could be safe, and perhaps happy one day.’

  ‘Who told you about them? Neither Ash nor Aspin knew those things.’

  ‘Why, you yourself did, Jillan,’ Bion said in surprise. ‘We’ve been sitting here talking about all sorts of things. Maybe the smoke was stronger than I realised. It can cause people to forget things sometimes, particularly if they’re not used to it.’

  He hadn’t told the wizard about his parents, had he? He couldn’t remember. His head was in a muddle. He needed to sit down and think properly, but there was no time.

  ‘Don’t worry. If you need to get to Hyvan’s Cross, I can show you a secret and direct path. You’ll be there almost before you leave. Trust me, it’ll be fine. How long before you need to be there?’

  He was on his feet, dithering. ‘I’m not sure. I’ve lost track. Ten days maybe.’

  ‘Well then, there’s nothing to worry about, is there?’

  ‘I-I need to find Ash and Aspin. Bye bye, thank you.’

  ‘Wait! I thought you wanted to know about Haven?’

  But he wrenched himself away and raced back across the meadow. Where had he originally entered it from? He didn’t recognise the trees now that their shadows had lengthened. He heard the stream off to his right and ran towards it. There were no stepping stones here but he knew he needed to be on the other side. He splashed through and followed the far bank, relying on it to take him to where he’d crossed earlier. But after a while it began to bend further to the right and lead him in a direction all his instincts told him was wrong. The stream then ended in a dramatic waterfall down the wooded side of the drop. He turned around to follow the stream all the way back to where he’d come from.

  He told himself he was an idiot for not paying better attention in the first place. Now he came to a place where another stream joined his, and he realised he must have been following the wrong stream all along. He opted to follow the new one and was soon in a thick and dark part of the woods he didn’t recognise. Don’t panic! Think! He made his way back to where the streams met and wondered what he should now do. Dare he just strike out into the woods in a direction he guessed was correct, leaving the streams
behind him, or would that only get him into an even worse mess?

  ‘Helloooo! Can anyone hear me? Ash! Aspin! Stara! Hello? I’m lost.’

  Freda trammelled through the ground. It was so much nicer to be travelling through proper rock, rather than the thin sludge everyone called mud. Hard rock scraped her clean and left her feeling fresh. It removed all the mites and beetles that liked to lurk and nest in the cracks of her skin. She could kill them herself, of course, by squeezing the cracks closed, but the resulting ooze inside her joints felt distinctly unpleasant. Plus bits of insect body got trapped inside, grated, and caused her irritation.

  The rock here was particularly dense too, making it feel more real than most places in the world of the Overlords. There was a great strength and power here, which presumably originated from the Great Temple, as if it were some centre of gravity separate from the rest of the world. She thrilled at the feeling of the central region, but at the same time it made her nervous. It was probably best if she got through this place as quickly as possible.

  She powered onward and then became aware of a distant vibration. It was not the natural and inherent vibration of the rock itself; rather, the rock was carrying the sound and movement of something trapped deep below. Trapped? What made her think the source of the vibration was trapped? She moved closer. Screams. High-pitched and unpleasant, then low and animalistic. What monster could make such sounds? How terrible must its suffering be?