“It’s beautiful,” said Milena. “As for neighbours, we’ll just have to become a city that attracts people from far away to live in these lands. Everything will grow back eventually.”
“I hope so,” muttered Sir Galado.
The remnant of Sir Galado’s army rode down into the city amidst curious stares from those dwelling there. A few of Sir Galado’s men took a moment to dismount and embrace family and loved ones, whom they had not seen for a long time. Sir Galado waited for his men to catch up before continuing on.
They soon arrived at the palace gates and two members of the elite guard stationed there sprang to attention, opening the doors for Sir Galado and the others after they had dismounted. The soldiers were told to return to their families and homes, while some stablemen ran out of the nearby stables to take charge of the horses.
Frosty nimbly stepped away from one stable hand and snorted. “Not this time!” With that, he sprinted down the street and out of sight.
Sherman chuckled. “I don’t blame him.”
The elite guard bowed reverently as Sir Galado introduced the palace’s princess and Guardian. Then Sir Galado, Milena, Sherman, Della, Kazin, and Valdez entered the palace. They walked into a high-ceilinged hallway with thick, decorative rugs covering the floor and walls.
“Ever soft!” exclaimed Della delightedly, bending to touch the soft rugs.
“And beautiful!” added Milena, admiring the tapestries adorning the walls.
“All courtesy of the barbarians,” said Sir Galado. “Your former neighbours,” he added in a low voice. He was beginning to regret taking the queen’s children home to such a seemingly cruel city, one that had taken gifts from its neighbours and then annihilated them.
Milena put a reassuring hand on Sir Galado’s shoulder. “Hunger makes people do regrettable things, sometimes. Have faith. Everything can be rebuilt.”
Sir Galado grinned weakly. The princess was insightful, he thought. She was a born leader. He led them to a room with two large, brass doors. Two more members of the elite guard stationed there greeted him.
“Is the council still in session?” he asked.
“Yes, Sir,” said one guard.
“Good,” said Sir Galado. “Is the queen there?”
“No, Sir. She is in her chambers, resting—I think.” He looked at Milena curiously.
“And Grakath?” asked Sir Galado, ignoring the guard’s interest in Milena.
The guard tilted his head in the direction of the doors and grimaced. “Yeah, he’s in there.”
Sir Galado turned to the queen’s children. “Well, I guess it’s time to introduce you to the nobles. I can’t guarantee you Grakath will like it, but I doubt he will try to harm you while the nobles are all present.”
“We will be ready to shield everyone if necessary,” offered Valdez, looking pointedly at Kazin, who nodded.
“Well then, here goes,” said Sir Galado. “Stay behind me.” He grasped the handles of the doors and flung them inward for effect.
Grakath, who was at the head of the table, rose to his feet as the nobles turned as one to see who was at the door.
“What is the meaning—?” began Grakath. His head was bandaged on one side of his head, an indication of his previous battle. His good eye peered darkly from the opening in the bandage. It was filled with surprise and hate. “Oh, it’s you, Sir Galado. I see you survived the war.” There was no genuine interest in the statement.
“Better than that,” said Sir Galado. “I have completed a task entrusted to me many years ago. I have brought back the queen’s children!” With that he stepped aside and indicated Sherman and Milena, who stood directly behind him.
There were murmurs of astonishment and surprise among the assembled nobles.
Kazin and Valdez stepped into the room after the queen’s children, as did the two elite guards. No one noticed Della as she put on her invisibility cloak and snuck into the room.
Grakath’s eyes widened when he saw Milena for the first time. He noticed her blue cloak and knew what it meant. “Impossible!” he cried. “It is a trick!”
“She looks exactly like her mother!” exclaimed one of the nobles. He lowered to one knee in deference.
“Don’t believe him!” shrieked Grakath. “She’s a fake! She’s a druid who cast a spell on herself to fool you into thinking she is the queen’s daughter!”
Other nobles in the room lowered to their knees, not paying any attention to the advisor.
“Fine!” shrieked Grakath. “Believe this!” Before anyone could react, he chanted two arcane words in the language of necromancy. The eyes of the skull atop his staff emitted an eerie red glow and the spirits of the nobles surged from their bodies. The blue auras were sucked into the skull until the eyes became a piercing red. “Attack!” ordered Grakath frantically, his mouth foaming.
The nobles, no longer in their normal frame of mind, staggered forward to do as they were told.
Suddenly, an arrow materialized out of nowhere and struck the skull staff squarely, knocking it from Grakath’s hand. It fell and landed head first, the skull shattering on impact. Shards of the skull flew everywhere.
“Noo!” shrieked Grakath as the nobles’ blue spirits were returned to their bodies. The nobles came to a stop and wondered what had just happened.
“It’s all your fault!” cried Grakath, picking up his staff with a fragment of skull still attached. He sent a sudden lightning bolt at Milena.
But Sherman was nearby, and held up Jarad’s shield to absorb the magical attack. Valdez raised a shield to protect them both a moment later. Milena enhanced the shield with her own magic.
“A shield will not help you for long!” sneered Grakath. He raised his staff again.
“If you do that, you won’t be able to defend yourself,” said Kazin, from a short distance away.
Grakath looked at Kazin and aimed his staff at the young mage. “You look familiar, mageling! Who are you?”
Another arrow whizzed through the air and struck Grakath’s magical shield harmlessly.
The necromancer shifted his balance to put less weight on his injured leg. It was the leg Sherman had damaged with the Sword of Dead.
“I’m the one who helped the Guardian give you some of what you deserve,” said Kazin. “How’s the leg? I guess you have to fly about your business these days, eh?”
“You!” screamed Grakath in sudden recognition. He let loose with a lightning bolt but Kazin simply deflected it with his shield.
More arrows flew across the room but Grakath’s shield held.
“So! You think you can defeat me?” sneered Grakath. “Just watch!” With that he let loose with numerous erratic fireballs. Nobles threw themselves to the floor to avoid being hit. Then Grakath cast his shield-eating spell at Kazin.
As Kazin’s shield wavered, a sudden idea occurred to him. He cast another shield spell while his first one was still in effect. Then he cast another one on top of that.
Grakath’s expression changed to one of surprise as his spell continued to eat away Kazin’s shields, only to encounter another one each time. He drained shield after shield, and Kazin raised others in their place.
Kazin realized he could only do this until his shields were pressed tightly up against his body. He needed to do something. With tremendous effort, he concentrated on his layers of shields, and managed to make a tiny hole through which he jabbed his staff. Then he prepared to cast his lightning bolt spell at his adversary.
Grakath swore when he saw what Kazin was up to and cancelled his shield eating-spell, which, while cast, prevented him from casting any other spells. Then he chanted a quick spell and disappeared from the council hall just as another arrow whizzed past the spot he had just vacated. .
“There he is!” cried Sir Galado, spotting
him on some nearby stairs leading up into the palace chambers. “He’s heading for the queen’s chambers!” Sir Galado pressed against Valdez’s shield and the arch mage cancelled the spell. The general almost sprawled headlong onto the floor in his haste to reach the stairs. Sherman and the others followed.
When they reached the top of the stairs, Sir Galado led them to the wing of the palace where the queen had her room.
Nimbar stood guarding the entrance and stopped them. “The queen is not to be disturbed,” he intoned coldly.
“Out of my way, you useless rib cage!” growled Sir Galado viciously. He grabbed the skeleton with one hand and flung him down the hallway. Nimbar landed with such violence that the skeleton shattered on impact, the bones skittering across the floor.
Without stopping to admire this incredible feat of strength, Sir Galado tried the chamber’s door handle. It was locked. He drew back and gave the door a thunderous kick. It flew inward with a loud crash.
The two guards with Sir Galado charged into the room—and were struck with ice bolts. Both were dead before they hit the ground.
“Let me in first,” said Valdez. He created a shield and entered the room slowly, stepping carefully over the dead guards. Two more ice bolts flew at the intruders but Valdez’s shield held. He extended it further into the room and beckoned the others to enter.
They all crowded in to see the necromancer advisor standing next to the queen. She had her back turned but looked at them through the mirror in front of her.
The queen saw Milena and Sherman and gasped. Slowly, she turned to look at them. The mother and daughter stared at one another in astonishment. They looked almost identical. It was as though they were identical sisters. The only difference was their eyes. Milena’s were clear and moist. The queen’s were glazed over and dead looking.
Sherman whistled.
The queen studied him in turn. She started forward but Grakath held her back. “William,” whispered the queen.
“He’s not William,” snapped the advisor.
“My name is Sherman,” said the big warrior. “I’ve been told that you are my mother.”
“Lies!” growled Grakath angrily. “All lies!”
“No,” said the queen quietly. “He has the bearing of his father, and the looks of his uncle.”
“It is a deception!” cried Grakath.
“Perhaps,” said the queen. She looked at Grakath. “Perhaps you are the deception.”
“Do not toy with me, foolish queen!” growled Grakath. “You need me to survive!”
“Enough!” yelled Sir Galado. He pointed his sword at the advisor. “You never speak like that to the queen! You must die for your treachery!”
“No!” said the queen, turning to the leader of the elite guard and the general of the army.
“Why not?” demanded Sir Galado, bravely questioning his own queen.
“Don’t you see?” said Grakath suddenly. “She needs me!”
“Nonsense!” growled Sir Galado. He took a step forward.
“It’s true!” sneered Grakath. “She needs me in order to survive!”
“How so?” asked Sherman.
Grakath grinned wickedly. “If I die, so does the queen!”
“You weren’t supposed to mention that,” said the queen.
“Shut up!” ordered Grakath. He turned his attention back to the others. “Several years ago,” began Grakath, “I arrived into this area from the south. I had failed the test at the Tower of Sorcery and entered the mountains in the north in shame and anger. I came across a cavern where I caught sight of some lizardmages casting a spell. I saw them open a portal where there had been nothing but rock earlier. Out of curiosity, I followed them through. Through sheer luck, I came across a cavern the lizardmages had been using for storage. In it were a bunch of magical items. Some of the items included books on necromancy, along with a broken dragon orb. I grabbed what I could and bolted. I followed an underground passageway for several days. When I emerged, I was in the mountains south of here. I found a quiet place to live and learned what I could about necromancy. Soon I discovered I was unique in this land. There were few mages of any kind here. I decided to go into business and made a good living off the petty desires of my customers. During that time, I learned much about necromancy and found a way to raise the dragon from the broken orb. It was easy for me to take over the dragon’s body, since the spirit was already dead. Naturally I kept this knowledge to myself, and started to plan my revenge against the Tower of Sorcery. It wasn’t until the queen found out about me and came to see me that I realized the potential for revenge. The queen wanted me to use my magic to help her stay young and beautiful. I agreed, provided she repaid my services appropriately. I asked her to make me her advisor.
“At first, she refused, claiming her husband was her advisor and he was good at it. So I arranged a hunting accident for her husband. Then, when things became rough due to the food shortage, I came to see if she was still interested in making a deal. Still distraught over her husband’s death, she agreed. I fulfilled my part of the bargain and prepared everything I needed for the spell to make her stay young and beautiful.
“One of the prerequisites for this spell was to bring the queen as close to death as possible without killing her. I prepared a vial of slow acting poison and gave it to her. Then I monitored her condition until she was almost dead. At that point, I used a necromancy spell to raise her from the dead before death occurred. Everything was working according to plan until she opened her eyes. It was then that I knew I had failed.” He looked at the queen’s dead eyes. “The eyes show death!”
“So if your magic fails,” said Kazin, “the queen will once again be as close to death as she was when you first raised her.”
“That’s correct,” said Grakath, grinning evilly. “Not even a necromancer will be able to raise her from the dead if I die!” He looked at the group assembled in the queen’s chambers and continued his story. “After the spell was complete, I couldn’t allow the queen’s brother to look at her eyes and suspect what had happened. He would have had me put to death and killed his sister without realizing it. I couldn’t very well kill him outright, so I decided that same day to have the queen’s children kidnapped, knowing William would follow the kidnappers to the ends of the earth if necessary. I had him lured into the Black Forest in the south where he was to be ambushed by my people. The children were then to be killed but they disappeared, along with the ambushers. After several months of not hearing from them, I assumed they were all dead—which was fine by me.
“It wasn’t until a few months ago that one of my spies—whom I had sent on a different errand in the southern realm—swore he saw the Guardian still alive and well. His description was the same as William, and he had the reputation of being a good sword fighter, so I had another spy sent to the southern lands to observe the individual. When it became apparent that this individual was quite possibly the queen’s son, I considered him to be a threat. I sent assassins to deal with him. They failed.”
“How was I a threat?” asked Sherman.
“I read it in the Book of Prophesy long ago,” snapped Grakath. “I had borrowed the book from my former master at the Tower of Sorcery. I studied the book closely for a long time, and one thing I remembered was the mention of the ‘Guardian’. It didn’t make sense to me until I found out about the status of the queen’s protector in this realm. It was then that I knew I had to eliminate the Guardian or he would defeat me. What I didn’t figure out until later was that the Guardian possibly referred to you!”
“Who was your master at the tower?” interrupted Kazin. “Was it Sandor?”
Grakath blinked. “How did you know?”
“Just a hunch,” said Kazin. “He was under the influence of one of the smoky rings identical to the one you’re wearing.”
Grakath grinned. “I know Sandor was an ambitious man, so I sent him one of the rings, with a note stating the benefits of the magic it had to offer. I was hoping to draw him away from the tower, but he refused. What I didn’t tell him was that the ring would eventually corrupt him.” Grakath chuckled. “I guess he found out the hard way!”
“You dirty swine!” growled Sir Galado. “Now we can’t even have the pleasure of killing you!”
Grakath sneered. “But I can kill you!” He raised his staff and pointed it at Valdez’s shield. Valdez was caught off guard and the shield wavered.
“That does it!” cried Sir Galado, losing his temper. He pushed through the weakened shield and charged the necromancer angrily.
“No!” cried Sherman, lunging after the enraged general. He pounced and tackled the general, tripping him up. Both men sprawled to the floor, and Sherman’s sword somehow freed itself from its scabbard and skidded across the floor to the queen’s feet.
The queen bent down to pick up the weapon while Grakath prepared to send ice bolts into both exposed men.
“I should have done this long ago,” murmured the queen. With a deftness that belied her casual demeanour, she slid the blade between Grakath’s ribs.
The necromancer was unable to chant his spell, and gurgled as he slid to the floor. He looked up at the queen in surprise and wonder. “You’ve just caused your own death!” he gasped. “Why?”
The queen’s legs trembled as the magic binding her to life began to fail. She slid to the floor beside her advisor. “I am tired of this kind of existence,” she whispered. “Seeing my children all grown up makes me wish I was there for them when they needed me. My own beauty and longevity are only a personal whim. It was a selfish act for me to allow you to do what you did. I make the sacrifice now, knowing death is the consequence. No true leader should neglect their nation and family to pursue their own goals.”
Grakath merely shook his head. He didn’t understand any of this. He had lived to pursue his personal goals in life; he didn’t know any other way. He looked dazedly around the room. Everyone looked at the queen with admiration and respect. All he could ever instill in anyone was awe and fear. Where did he go wrong, he wondered? As death claimed him, he realized he would never know.
Kazin's Quest: Book I of The Dragon Mage Trilogy Page 72