“Alone?”
“Yes,” the old man coughed. “She wants to meet Molag Bomgaard and none other. Through her, your greatest desires will be fulfilled.”
“I’m just supposed to trust this mage?” Molag scoffed. “I’ve never even heard of her until coming here.”
“Not everything is disclosed to the populace. Know that the Cha have always known and relied upon her wisdom and guidance. Now, they’ve been taken from us, murdered by apostates that elevate savages above the true leaders of Faélondul. The mage is seeking others with a like heart and mind, new leaders for our people.”
Molag stood taller, thrusting out his barreled chest. “There’s no one more loyal to Nazil than me.”
Nigel’s eyes rolled, listening to the blustering man. He bit back his comments, knowing Molag’s importance. He wouldn’t jeopardize his benefactor’s plans, or those of the one that he served.
“Then prove that loyalty and waste no more time,” Nigel said, instead. “We’ve lost time distancing you from the bedlam you created.”
Molag whipped around to face him. “Had my plans been carried out as I commanded, Nazil would be celebrating new leadership. My name would be on everyone’s tongues as they rejoiced in the streets of Nazil and Yarah alike. It’s the failures of my inferiors which caused this disaster, not the strategies that set them into motion.”
“Enough,” the old man said, coughing. “It only matters that you’re here. Lilinth herself spoke the name Molag Bomgaard, and it’s by her command you’ve been spared.
“She selected you over numerous others to lead this restoration. Lilinth must have great faith in you and your love for Nazil. There are men of greater station who covet what Lilinth offers only to you.”
“She knows my heart,” Molag said, proudly. “Whatever she asks of me will be done. Nazil will be purified.”
Nigel grinned wryly, aware of some of what awaited Molag on Sanctium. He was thankful that he hadn’t been chosen by Lilinth. From what his benefactor described, her needs weren’t easily sated, and her methods often brutal.
“Not only does she know your heart, Molag, she knows that you’re a leader of the people. Our people,” the old man breathed.
“Sir, should I send for the healer as we take leave?” Nigel asked.
“He’ll come,” the old man said, motioning a shaky hand toward the divan. “That satchel contains what you’ll need. Take it now and go. Only Molag may enter the cottage, Nigel. Escort him to the water’s edge. From there, he must travel alone.”
“As you say,” Nigel bowed, and then picked up the satchel, tossing it to Molag as he moved through the door.
“You know where we need to go?” Molag asked, running to catch up with him.
“Past the north gate and through the wood. What we need lies there. Make haste, if we’re to make the isle before the moon’s rise.”
“We aren’t going to procure horses?”
Nigel whipped around, scowling. “We’re traveling less than two and a half kilometers. There’s no need for horses unless you’d rather be in the cells. The guards would have no trouble spotting two men on horseback. On foot, our movements barely register as an animal in the woods,” he said, spinning back around and continuing.
Nigel pulled up his cowl, wrapping his black cloak fully around him. He kept up a rapid pace until they’d reached the water’s edge. Molag followed behind, wheezing. When they arrived at the Nazil River, Nigel halted, resting a foot on the bow of the boat.
“If your stamina is any indication of your fighting prowess, mayhaps you should surrender to the Zaxson now and lessen your torment.”
“You needn’t worry about my skills,” Molag barked, panting between each word. “When the time calls for it, I’ll prove my prowess.” He moved closer, locking eyes with him. “You needn’t wait for the Zaxson. I’ll offer you a demonstration now if you’re eager to learn of it.”
Nigel laughed. “If the mage hadn’t sent for you, I’d gladly answer that challenge and put an end to your misery,” he spat, motioning to the small craft. “Are you ready to meet the mage, or would you rather continue your inane chatter?”
Molag’s eyes narrowed, stepping into the rocking boat. The thin ice rimming the river’s edge cracked as Nigel pushed off from the shore. They pulled their cloaks tighter, warding off the gelid winds wafting down from the mountains. When Molag positioned his cowl over his face, Nigel cleared his throat.
“I’m only supposed to escort you across the river, not act as your servant,” Nigel said, pointing to the oars.
“You’re supposed to take me there. Lilinth requested my presence, not some guard of Nazil.”
Nigel smirked. “Indeed, this honor belongs to you. However, if you intend on knowing why, or witness her beauty—” he ended there, leaning back comfortably and pointing to the oars again.
With a derisive snort, Molag took up the oars, glaring over at him.
“North for a quarter of a glass and then East,” Nigel said, tucking his gloved hands behind his head and closing his eyes. “That is: if your knots are consistent.”
Molag cursed under his breath. I’ll be adjusting that smug attitude once the mage has shared her secrets with me, he thought, struggling against the strengthening current. Though the night was cool, sweat beaded his brow. It stung his eyes as he continued to strain to keep the small craft moving. When they hit the edge of the isle, Nigel yawned and stretched, although he hadn’t taken his eyes off Molag the entire time.
Without speaking a word, Nigel maneuvered out of the boat, disturbing the dense fog blanketing the ground. As he tethered the rope, Molag stood, recovering his breath.
“You’ll need to head north,” Nigel said, pointing. “Once you see the large tree with double knots, your path turns west. That’ll lead you to the clearing and the mage’s cottage. Make haste.”
“What about you?”
“I’m remaining here.” Nigel pointed again. “I’ll set my camp just there and await your return.”
Molag scoffed, adjusting the heavy satchel. When he attempted to move away, Nigel grabbed the strap.
“This stays with me,” Nigel said, smiling.
“He said that I needed what was inside.”
“So you do,” he said, pulling out a torch and handing it to Molag.
“What about the rest?”
“Don’t I deserve some comfort as well?” he asked, feigning innocence. “You’ll enjoy the warmth and comforts of Lilinth’s home, and me, merely the cold ground.”
“You play a dangerous game, guard of Nazil.”
“And you waste time,” he sneered, moving off to set his camp.
Molag cursed again, lighting the torch. Following his directions, he cautiously continued to the clearing. After nearly half a glass, he reached the dirt-covered patch, stopping and scrutinizing the area.
His steps were hesitant as he moved forward, and then halted when the door slowly opened. For a moment, he craned around, looking back toward the path. But when Lilinth began humming, he smiled, setting his torch on a stone, and then stepped through the door.
“Would you like to join me for a drink?” Lilinth asked, salaciously. She shook her head sideward, whipping the long, silvery-white hair from her face.
He searched all of her, staring at the slits in her gown, and her long, milky-white legs peeking through. He swallowed hard, his eyes continuing up to her bust, and then to her flawless complexion.
“You look as if you could use a drink,” the seductress whispered, leaning close to his face. She handed him a glass before sitting on the divan. Crossing her legs, Lilinth slid more material away, exposing her shapely thighs. “Do have a seat.”
“You…you’re the mage?”
“Did you expect another?”
“No…no…it’s just they talked as if you were older, not a beautiful woman. Nay, the most beautiful woman that I’ve ever seen.”
She blushed. “You flatter me,” she said, motioning fo
r him to sit. “Mayhaps they confused me with another. Very few have visited me of late.”
He downed his drink, sitting at the farthest end of the divan. Lilinth giggled, sliding closer to him. Gliding a hand up his arm, she massaged his muscles, while her other hand rested on his thigh.
“Do you fear me, Molag?”
“I—I fear no one. Isn’t that why you chose me?”
“For that and more,” Lilinth said, rising and removing her gown. She knelt before him, sliding a hand between his thighs. “I always prefer pleasure before business.”
Without a second thought, Molag dropped to his knees, bringing her breasts to his mouth. All that mattered in that instant was satisfying this beautiful woman.
As she drew him down atop her, Lilinth’s eyes flickered, positioning him where she wanted. Molag followed her commands, savoring every drop of her essence. Clutching her hips, he increased his efforts, surrounding himself in her softness.
Releasing a feral shriek, Lilinth lashed out at him, clamping her thighs tighter as his intimate kiss brought her to her peak. Molag cried out and then moaned, feeling the excitement and pleasure from the pain.
Lilinth grasped his shoulders, drawing him up to her. Her leathery wings unfurled, fluttering in anticipation of the joining. Molag stared into her eyes, fumbling with his laces. With a powerful thrust, he became part of her.
An ear-piercing scream echoed through the room as Nikolina shot up in the bed.
“Nikolina!” Allister said, startled awake. As he stood, he cried out, grasping his chest. A feeling of nausea and lightheadedness assailed him as he reached out for his daughter.
“Nikolina,” he repeated, hearing her scream again. He labored forward, fighting the stabbing pains in his stomach.
“Father! Help me!” Nikolina cried out as a viscid substance oozed from her mouth, wrinkling and morphing her skin.
“Gods, no! Nikolina!”
“Yes,” Molag moaned as Lilinth roughly turned him on his back. Her leathery wings arched upward as she leaned back, continuing her pleasure. He reached up, grabbing her withered breasts before yelling out at the peak of satisfaction.
With Molag’s powerful release, Allister sucked in a sharp breath, convulsing violently. He screamed, a guttural scream, clutching between his legs as the essence that had embodied him and Nikolina transferred to another.
“Guardians,” Allister pleaded, collapsing on the bed .
Contemplation
Dalia watched as Beilzen rose, poking at the fire for what seemed the thirteenth time. By this point in the long night, she’d lost count. Wiping the weariness from her eyes, she sat up in the bed. At any other time, seeing him bare was arousing, but his demeanor and expression was troubling. Pulling back the covers, she motioned her husband back into bed.
“I didn’t mean to wake you,” he said, sliding in next to her.
“You didn’t,” she said, nestling into his chest.
He caressed her bare back, and closed his eyes, trying to focus on his family. He managed a smile then, thinking about the day they’d met. So much had happened since then, and he feared what might lie ahead in their future.
“Where’s your mind, Husband?”
“I was thinking about you and Fáelán,” he said. “But more recent events came to mind, and stole the joy from it.” He shifted, gazing into her eyes. “I can’t stop thinking about what happened with Nikolina.”
“Was it so horrid that it plagues you still?”
“It was all encompassing: the sounds, the smell, the sight. Everything. I’ve never witnessed, no, felt such evil. When I saw her, I—I knew, but thinking back now, it wasn’t Nikolina at all. I felt the same when we were in the market. I didn’t want to bring her to Raithym. I would’ve never allowed her near him.”
“Beilzen, you did what the Zaxson and Nakshij asked of you. They didn’t perceive her as a threat, and hoped to discover answers. If they’d thought she could harm Raithym in any way, they wouldn’t have devised this plan. This isn’t your fault.”
“You weren’t there, Dalia, and there are no words to help you understand what I saw and felt. If Ahvixx and Nzuri are correct, I’m responsible for delivering what this…this mage needs to wage war against all of Faélondul.”
She sat up, turning him to face her. “No. Because of you, Ihnat is safe and with his father. If you hadn’t informed the Zaxson about Nikolina, they wouldn’t have known about any of this. They have more information now and can prepare for whatever might come. Aren’t the Zaxson and Thalassa going to speak with the AsZar?”
He nodded. “Baldon and Brukin will arrive soon.”
“This is what you’ve done. Without you, they wouldn’t know what to ask or about Raithym. You bear no fault, Husband. Both Pentanimir and Danimore were aware of your apprehension. You acquiesced to their wishes. Theirs.”
He sighed, knowing she spoke true, but he couldn’t help feeling guilt and remorse about the outcome of his actions.
“When I meet with the Zaxson, I’m going to ask if we can leave the citadel,” Beilzen said. “If you’d prefer our own home, we’ll purchase one of your choosing.”
“I thought Father Perrin was expecting us there?”
“He is. Everything is ready, he’s only waiting for the Zaxson to grant my leave.”
“We don’t need any other place, Beilzen. Your home will also be mine.”
“Then we’ll go soon. Our life isn’t here, Dalia. I truly believe that the Guardians sent you to me just as they told Pentanimir about my son. No other woman in all of Faélondul would’ve accepted and loved me as I am.”
“When first we met, I was drawn to you and your son. It didn’t matter what anyone had said about you. I wanted to know you as you are, not as you were. I love you. You’ve made me happier in these many full moons than anyone has in all my years.”
“Yes. A beautiful gift from the Guardians,” he whispered, moving over her.
Danimore was amazed at how much his son resembled him. Ihnat looked like a Benoist, except for Nikolina’s large eyes and heart-shaped lips. Danimore stroked the thin silvery-white wisps of hair atop Ihnat’s head as Zeta held him to her breast. She giggled as Raithym kissed his cheek, saying what sounded like, ‘brah dah’ before laying his head in his father’s lap. Danimore smiled, enjoying the sound of Zeta’s laughter again. It had been far too long.
“Are you happy?” he asked.
She nodded. “We have our sons now, but for how long? Won’t Nikolina and Allister attempt to take Ihnat from us?”
Danimore had considered such an outcome before finally deciding on this course. In the end, he felt that his claim to his son was valid. Nikolina had stolen his seed in the vilest manner, and could’ve been hanged for the crime. In exchange for her freedom, she’d have to relinquish their child. It seemed fair to him rationally, yet, morally he felt otherwise.
“It wouldn’t be wise for them to do so,” he finally said. “If such a claim were made, we’d be required to detain Nikolina until her just punishment could be executed. We’ve discussed this with Allister at length, and he agreed with our position. For a crime of this magnitude, there’s only one fitting penance. In Faélondul’s current climate, we can’t afford to appear weak or vulnerable. The lands are frayed, and loyalties are in question. The d’Garrions would do well to accept Velnic’s pledge and continue with their lives. I’ll permit both Nikolina and Allister to visit, but the arrangements must be well in advance and with both you and me in attendance.”
“That would be wise, but what about Nikolina? Allister agreed to these conditions, once she’s healed, she might be of a different mind. With the support Molag already has, she could use him to have others rise against us. Ihnat could be taken from us.”
“No. I’ll never allow that to happen. Nikolina is his birth mother, but he’s our son. Ihnat is where he belongs, my wife. He belongs here with us.”
Shift
Molag awoke disoriented on the cold ground, sh
aking his head to clear his turbid thoughts. He winced, caressing his side, feeling stabs of searing pain. Resting a hand on the ground to steady himself, he brought the other one around, only to fall back, shocked by the blood covering his palm.
“What in all hells,” he groaned, nursing his side again. As he pushed to stand, his knees wobbled, almost causing him to topple.
After using a branch for support, he slowly rose, resting his weight upon it. He squinted, trying to bring his surroundings into focus. There was nothing, only the dirt covered patch encircled by trees were within his vantage. When his eyes rested on the torch he recalled carrying, he stumbled back, grasping his head.
“Gods,” he breathed, struggling to remain upright. He cried out, doubling over as blistering, prickling pangs erupted between his thighs.
Flashes of memory invaded his mind: some tormenting while others were gratifying. He could see Lilinth, enamored even now by her beauty, and the scenes of passion streaming through his mind. Nothing more was clear to him. He remembered her demands, and his eagerness at satisfying them. He groaned again, confused as to why he’d submitted so willingly. Regardless of the pain inflicted upon him, he’d begged for more, relishing the taste of blood on her lips. His blood.
He turned again, studying the trees and foliage. Recognition swept over him as some of the pain abated. Once he located the tracks he’d left previously, Molag managed a smile that quickly morphed into a grimace. There was something, something that he couldn’t discern, but it sent chilling prickles down his spine.
Taking a shaky step forward, his knees almost buckled. Molag inhaled a steadying breath, gagging as an acerbic vapor filled his lungs. He struggled to take another step, dragging one foot, and disturbing the dirt beneath him. A swirl of dust encircled his ankles, forming pallid tendrils. With widening eyes, his body shuddered, feeling a presence both familiar and terrifying.
“By the gods,” he breathed, staggering toward the trees, tottering and gazing back, searching for what was no longer there.
When he finally cleared the dense trees, he noticed the smoke rising in the air. An aggrieved smile crossed his battered face.
The Rise of Nazil- Complete Epic Fantasy Trilogy Page 129