Mitchell Graham - [Fifth Ring 03] - The Ancient Legacy(V1.0)

by Mitchell Graham

  "Would you like me to step outside while you read it?" she asked.

  "What? No," said Gawl.

  Teanna folded her hands in front of her and waited while they read the letter. Twice Gawl looked up at her, but her face was unreadable.

  "Your father proposes that we form an alliance with Nyngary and Alor Satar . . . incredible," Gawl said, shak­ing his head.

  "I've already spoken with Eric and Armand. They'll go along with it and acknowledge the sovereign right of your countries to exist."

  "How generous," said Gawl.

  "I understand how you feel. They will also abandon their family's goal of 'one nation, one rule.' "

  "Forgive me, Princess," said James, "but in the past your family has proven to be somewhat forgetful when it comes to the promises made in their treaties."

  "They will honor this one. I will swear it by my fam­ily's name. Moreover, I will be the one to enforce it should the terms be breached."

  Gawl made a derisive noise and looked out the window.

  James went silent as he considered the proposal. Clasp­ing his hands behind his back, he limped to the fireplace and sat down in one of the chairs, motioning for Teanna to do the same. She glanced at Gawl, whose back was still to her, then went over to join the prince.

  "The fire feels good," she said.

  James nodded absently. "Why?" he asked after nearly a minute.

  "Four days ago forces from Alor Satar fought a battle with Vargoth, two hundred miles northwest of Rocoi at a town called Epps Crossing. The Orlocks were there as well. I found out about it last night.

  "Armand placed twenty thousand men in the field along with two hundred of the new cannons. Less than six thousand returned home. Vargoth also has cannons, though far less of them than my cousin. He thought they would be the key to their victory. He was wrong. The Or­locks attacked in waves for two days straight. They charged straight into the guns, running over the bodies of their own dead. It was a slaughter. Those who were killed were lucky."

  Gawl finally turned around, walked over, and stood behind James's chair. "How do we know we can trust you?" he asked.

  "That is a reasonable question," Teanna answered. "Sires, you are intelligent men. I know there has been mis­trust between us. Some of that I am responsible for, some my family has engendered, but it is time to put our history aside. I want my people to survive and to prosper. More­over, I want my country to survive. I am capable of pro­tecting them, but I cannot protect everyone. Ruling a world of corpses is not a future I relish. We are fighting for our lives. Not just Alor Satar or Ningary, but Cincar, Sen-nia, Elgaria, Bajan, Felize .. . anywhere there are human beings. The Orlocks will not stop with the crumbs Vargoth throws them, and Coribar is too blind to see the truth. Our race will be extinguished unless we act."

  "I ask again," said Gawl, "how do we know we can trust you?"

  There was a pause.

  "I am prepared to give Mathew Lewin back his ring." Her announcement took both monarchs by surprise, yet neither was willing to acknowledge that Mathew was still alive.

  In the end it was decided to put her to the test. Against his better judgment, Gawl revealed what Delain was planning and asked if she would use her powers to communicate with him about the trap that had been set. Teanna readily agreed. "I can only communicate with him if I know where he is," she said. "I need to form a picture of the place in my mind's eye."

  "He's in Anderon," Gawl told her, "but precisely where in the city, I don't know."

  Teanna made a clicking noise with her tongue as she thought. "I was a little girl when we visited there. I seem to remember a wide boulevard with iron lamp posts and a fountain in the middle. At one end was a brown building with lots of steps and columns at the top. I believe the royal palace was at the opposite end."

  "That's right," said Gawl. "Can you do that thing with the window again?"

  "I could, but he would have to be there when I appear. If he's not, we'd just wind up talking to an empty street or scaring some poor citizens half to death."

  Gawl smiled at the image. 'Tine. What do you suggest?"

  When he recalled that moment later, he resolved to never again ask such a question. Before he and James knew what was happening, the hum began. From some­where far off he heard Teanna say, "You might want to close your eyes. This sometimes makes the stomach feel a bit queasy."

  "Queasy" was an understatement. One moment he and James were talking to Teanna d'Elso, and the next they were being sucked into a tunnel of white light. Wind pushed Gawl's hair back and a tremendous rushing sound filled his ears. Fleeting images of trees, mountains, sky, and stars shot by so fast it made him dizzy. Then, just as suddenly, the vortex disappeared and they found them­selves standing in water up to their calves. They were in the middle of a huge fountain.

  In front of them was a street lined with a series of or­nate iron lamp posts. They were in a circular intersection. Four other streets, coming from different directions, ran directly to the intersection where they were standing. The brown building with the steps Teanna had mentioned was facing them three blocks away. At the other end was all that remained of Anderon Palace. Even from where Gawl was standing he could see the blackened stones. Only three of the walls were intact.

  Gawl stepped out of the fountain and reached back to help Teanna out.

  "I'm sorry," she said, bending down to wring the water out of her dress. "I got an image of the fountain fixed in my mind."

  James muttered something under his breath and sat down on the edge of the retaining pond. He pulled off one

  of his boots, and poured a stream of water out. 'The next time you decide to do that, I would appreciate some ad­vance warning," he said.

  "If I told you, you wouldn't have agreed, would you?"

  "Actually ... no," he replied, taking off his other boot.

  "Are you both all right?" Teanna asked.

  Gawl put his hand over his stomach and said, "I proba­bly won't eat for a week."

  The comment brought a smile to Teanna's face. "My father said the same thing the first time he and I tried it."

  "And you're still on speaking terms?" James asked, pouring water out of the other boot.

  "Oh, yes. We're very close. Now, how shall we find King Delain?"

  Finding the king turned out to be a lot easier than they thought. Four soldiers on the other side of the intersection were standing there, watching them, their mouths open. Teanna was the first to notice.

  "Oh, dear," she said.

  Gawl and James turned to see what she was looking at. For some reason, the scene struck James as funny and he began to chuckle. Now all they had to do was convince the soldiers that they were the monarchs of three different countries, he thought.

  Teanna, apparently realizing what they looked like, started laughing herself. At first Gawl was annoyed, but even his face eventually creased into a smile.

  "They probably think we're ghosts who have lost their minds," he said, trying to contain himself.

  It brought a fresh round of laughter from James, who nearly fell back into the fountain. Meanwhile, the soldiers drew their swords and gathered enough courage to cross the street. Still trying to regain his composure, all James could do was motion for them to come closer.

  "Gentlemen, I'm Teanna d'Elso," Teanna called out. "Please don't be afraid. We are here to see King Delain."

  Their reaction was exactly what James expected. They all looked at her as if she were insane. James started laughing so hard, he slipped off the lip of the fountain and landed unceremoniously on his rump. Gawl sighed, then reached down and helped him to his feet.

  "You shouldn't be in that fountain," said one of the sol­diers. "It's public property."

  "My apologies," Gawl replied, drawing himself to his full height, "but the lady was telling the truth. She is Teanna d'Elso and I'm King Gawl of Sennia. The soggy fellow next to me is James Genet, Crown Prince of Mirdan. I know what we must look like, but we really are here
to see Delain. I'd appreciate it if you would take us to him."

  One of the soldiers, a tough-looking sergeant, put his hands on his hips. "And I'm King Seth of Vargoth. Why don't you run along now and and sleep it off? We can have the peace conference later."

  Gawl closed his eyes and opened them. He looked at James, who was still trying to control his laughter and was completely worthless at that moment, then at Teanna, and shrugged.

  "You can't blame them, can you?" he asked.

  Teanna took a deep breath. "I suppose not," she said. "Are you men sure there's nothing we can do to convince you?"

  "You just go home and change into dry clothes, missy. I'll be sure and tell the king all about it."

  "I really hate to do this," she said under her breath.

  A moment later the expression on the sergeant's face turned to one of shock as he lifted off the ground and found himself suspended ten feet in the air. All three of his companions followed.

  "Gentlemen, as King Gawl said, I am Teanna d'Elso. This is neither magic nor witchcraft and I assure you that we mean you no harm. What you are seeing is the Ancients' science ... how they traveled, if you will. Unfortunately, I miscalculated a bit on where we were to appear, but I give you my word that we are here on a matter of the greatest ur­gency. We need to see King Delain immediately."

  With that, Teanna gradually set the soldiers back on the ground and folded her hands in front of her.

  "This one's big enough to be Gawl," one of the men said to his sergeant.

  "And that one looks like James," another said. "I seen him at the battle of Ardon Field several years ago."

  The sergeant placed his sword back in his sheath, not taking his eyes off the newcomers. "Dan, go get Colonel Morrisey," he said, over his shoulder.

  Twenty minutes later Gawl, Teanna, and James found themselves walking up the steps of the brown building, flanked by a squad of twenty men.

  44

  New Raburn

  Father Thomas was talking to a group of men when he saw Mathew round the corner. His instincts immedi­ately told him something was amiss. Instead of the more measured pace he was accustomed to, his young friend was walking rapidly. He excused himself and started after him. His first thought was that Mathew had heard the news about the Vargothans turning on Alor Satar and Delain's attack in Anderon. There was no question now that the country was at war. Events were unfolding quickly. Sev­eral aisles away Collin Miller noticed the same thing. They both caught up with Mathew at the same time. He was so deep in thought he barely noticed.

  Pulled from his reverie, Mathew looked up to see the priest and Collin. "Delain's man is wrong," he said. "The ring isn't in Corrato."

  The priest took his elbow and stopped him. "How do you know?"

  Mathew quickly told them about the artist and the painting, as he pulled the paper wrap off the painting and held it up for them to see. Father Thomas gently lowered his arm, and they started walking again. "Let's go some­place where we can talk," he said.

  They moved to a corner of the hall, where Mathew re­counted the dream he'd been having.

  "So you think Delain is wrong about Teanna keeping the ring at her palace?" Father Thomas asked.

  "I do. According to Delain, his man only had a general

  idea about where she was hiding it. He saw her place her own ring in a book, but that was it. He never actually saw my ring. We've all been assuming all along that they're both there. Do you know where this Rivalin is, Father? The mountain's got to be close by."

  "I do," Father Thomas replied, slowly nodding. "As soon as this storm lets up—"

  The priest didn't have a chance to finish what he was saying. A tremendous bang nearly deafened all of them. It was followed by a concussion and a blast of hot air that knocked them to the ground. The entire forward wall of the meeting hall had just exploded. Outside, horns started blaring. Dazed, Mathew got to his knees and looked around. People were running and screaming and there were dead everywhere. He alone knew what was happen­ing, having felt the tremendous surge of power when Shakira struck.

  At the front of the building, Orlocks were pouring through the shattered opening. Pandemonium broke out as the men of New Raburn tried to rally.

  Mathew helped Father Thomas and Collin to their feet and drew his sword.

  "It's Shakira," he said. "She knows I'm here." "We've got to get the women to safety," Father Thomas told them.

  Mathew's eyes went wide. In the confusion, he'd com­pletely forgotten about Lara and Ceta. All three of them started running.

  Out of nowhere a snarling Orlock wielding a double-bladed axe rushed toward them from the shadows, and two more of the creatures followed him. Without breaking stride, Collin launched himself into the Orlock. Both went down in a tangle of arms and legs. Collin came up on top and plunged his dagger into the creature's heart. Without warning, a powerful shove from Father Thomas threw Mathew sideways, as two arrows whizzed past his head, missing him by inches.

  The Orlock who had fired was no more than five feet away. Father Thomas knocked the crossbow aside, with his sword spun sideways, and beheaded the creature with a single stroke. Mathew recovered his balance in time to see a third Orlock level a pike and charge straight for him. With little time to react, he pulled his sword from the scabbard and parried upward, deflecting the point away from his body as he sidestepped. The (Mock's momentum carried him forward, only to find his victim was no longer in the same spot. Mathew's circular riposte caught the creature across its shoulder. Steel bit into muscle and bone. The Orlock screamed and whirled around, swinging the pike back at him in a wide arc. Mathew moved inside the blow and lunged for its heart. The creature's eyes opened in shock and a second later they glazed over. It fell, still reaching for Mathew as it died.

  Through the commotion of battle he saw Lara, Ceta, and several other women about fifty yards away. Four men from New Raburri were in front of them, fighting a group of Orlocks. Lara had a sword in her hand. Once again Mathew started for them. He saw a young mother go down with an Orlock blade in her stomach as she tried to defend two young children behind her. One was a blond-haired young boy, not more than five or six, and the other a girl of about eight. Without stopping to think, Mathew changed direction and sprinted for the children.

  What happened next would be burned in his mind for­ever. Holding a toy sword, the little boy stood his ground before the Orlock. Dead black eyes filled with hate for all that was human turned on him and the creature ran his sword through his chest.

  Mathew screamed, "No!" still too far away to help. From out of nowhere a man beside himself with frenzy, armed only with a dagger, launched himself at the crea­ture. He stabbed the Orlock in the chest over and over be­fore both of them fell to the ground. Mathew couldn't count how many times the man stabbed the creature, but in

  the end the Orlock was dead. When he got there he helped the man to his feet then picked up the frightened girl and handed her to him.

  "Take her to safety," he said.

  It took a second before the man's eyes focused. Then he nodded and hurried off toward the rear of the hall, clutching the girl in his arms.

  Over the rubble of the shattered front entrance more Orlocks were rushing into the room. Desperately, Mathew searched the hall for Lara and Ceta, spotted them again, and started making his way through the press of the fight Collin, Father Thomas, and a group of men from New Raburn had engaged twelve of the creatures and were try­ing to defend a small cluster of children, huddled behind them. They were fighting their hearts out, but were gradu­ally being driven backward.

  Everywhere he looked people were dying. His heart nearly stopped when one of the Orlocks broke through. Lara stepped directly into the creature's path, smoothly parried its blade, then pierced it through the chest and moved out of its reach. The Orlock died on the spot.

  Everything seemed to be happening in a rush as Mathew fought his way across the floor. He felt someone grab his el­bow and turned to see Harry,
a large gash across his fore­head and his arm was bleeding freely from a wound. Before he could say anything, a series of explosions snapped everyone's head around. Dust and smoke soared into the air and flooded the hall as a thirty-story building collapsed in on itself. Out in the street, for one brief moment, Mathew caught a glimpse of a tall female Orlock. She was standing quite still despite the destruction going on around her. Then she was gone, obscured by the gray smoke.

  "You've got to get out of here!" Harry was shouting. "What?"

  'Take your people and get out! We'll hold the creatures as long as we can. Follow the tunnels and stay to your left. They'll take you out into the mountains."

  "I'm not leaving," Mathew said. "These people will die without help."

  "They're dead already. Can't you see that? New Raburn's lost. You've got to get out, now."

  "No," Mathew said, yanking his arm away. "No . . . we'll stay. We'll fight with you."

  Suddenly Lara, Father Thomas, Collin, and Ceta were by his side. Lara grabbed him by the front of his shirt with both hands. "Mathew, he's right—we have to leave."

  “No."

  Alfy and two other men joined them. They were breathing heavily and their faces streaked with dirt. He put his hand on Mathew's shoulder. "Get going, boy," Alfy said. "You don't have much time."

  It was the second time in Mathew's life that he had run away from a fight, and the thought consumed him with shame and self-loathing. In his mind he was nothing more than a cow­ard, saving himself at the expense of others. He wanted to put his hands over his ears to shut out the screams coming from the great hall. They followed him down into the tun­nels as they ran. They followed him for the rest of his life.

  Harry had cautioned them to keep to the left. Above the ancient light globes spread their odd yellow light onto the walls and floors. For ten minutes the five of them followed the corridor, until it split off in three different directions.

  "We need to take that one," said Collin, who was bleed­ing from a cut on his thigh.

  "Shh," Father Thomas said, making a sharp hand ges­ture.