The Rise of Nazil- Complete Epic Fantasy Trilogy

by Aaron-Michael Hall

  “What’s that to mean?”

  “I can’t explain it more than that. He just looked like he had fire coming out of him or something, High Priest. The snow’s up to my knees out there, but there wasn’t any of it around them. It looked like it was just melted away.”

  Nzuri looked at the men, and then back from whence they came. “Where’s the man now?”

  “When we drew our swords to get closer, he waved the dogs away. After asking us to bring him here, he told us his name and just disappeared in the trees.”

  “What did he say?”

  “Said his name was Déshì Tân. Do you know him?”

  The brothers Xaahn , Nzuri thought, peering around again. “I know of him. He’s an acquaintance of the First Chosen.”

  The guards exchanged a glance, straightening their posture.

  “Even so, most Nazilians prefer Nazilian healers and counselors. I think it would be prudent to send for Arilian. Mr. Tân mightn’t be aware of this.”

  “It wasn’t just him, High Priest. The man came to for a bit, and he said the same. He even knew your name.”

  “My name? Do you know him?”

  “He’s a citadel guard.”

  Nzuri squinted, scrutinizing the shivering man. Pushing his hair to his back, he felt for the man’s pulse, noticing his swollen and twisted wrist. “He’s soaked.”

  “It’s because of the fire. It melted away the snow, leaving water behind. It was warm when we felt it.”

  “It’s not anymore. All right, bring him inside,” Nzuri relented, holding open the doors. “Please hurry. He’s nearly overcome by the cold. Did he mention anything about his assailant?”

  “No. Only that he must be brought to the temple.”

  “Was there any indication that Déshì was the one who attacked him?”

  “I doubt that,” the first guard said. “If not for him and those…dogs, he might’ve died. No telling how long he’s been laying out there.”

  Nzuri paused, looking down at him again. “I don’t recognize him. You said he was a citadel guard. What’s his name?”

  “Nigel Branston.”

  “What?”

  “We were introduced when we first arrived in Nazil. He and two others were responsible for orientating us to our duties before Sir Yego and Lady Ishida began our training.”

  Nzuri nodded, adding wood to the hearth, and starting a fire.

  “Please have helding Ahndargae bring some supplies. If you tell him about Nigel’s state, he’ll know what’s needed.”

  “Yes, High Priest.” The guards bowed, exiting the room.

  When the two men left, Nzuri moved toward the cot. He knew that name, and more importantly, he was aware that Nigel had been conspiring against the Zaxson.

  Why, then, would he ask to be brought to the temple? The way Sidra and Allister described him, Nigel publicly denounced any humans or half-Nazilians presently in the city. Could it be these brothers? Nzuri had heard about them, too. Symeon trusted the men, but Nzuri hadn’t ever seen them.

  “The brothers Xaahn,” Nzuri said, dipping a cloth in the basin. After pulling some thick covers over Nigel, he dabbed at the dried blood on his face.

  “Pri—priest?” Nigel said, weakly, cracking open a swollen eye.

  “Yes. Yes, I’m Nzuri. You’re in the temple now, Nigel. You’re safe.”

  Nigel nodded, closing his eye.

  “High Priest Nzuri,” Ahndargae said, entering the room. “I’ve brought the supplies you requested.”

  “Thank you. Please set them on the table and help me.”

  Ahndargae started forward, and then stumbled back. “He’s Nazilian. A—A guard.” He shook his head, inundated by the agonizing memories of his enslavement.

  “Yes. I’m told his name’s Nigel Branston.”

  “Why…why is he here, High Priest? What does he want?”

  Nzuri’s movement ceased, noting his helding’s terrified visage. He set the supplies aside, resting a hand on his shoulder. “I don’t know why he asked to come here, Ahndargae, but it’s our duty to assist the wounded no matter whether they’re human or Nazilian. If you’d rather someone else assist me, I understand. In time, all wounds do heal. I promise you that.”

  Ahndargae closed his eyes, taking a steadying breath. “No…no, High Priest, I’ll assist. Do you know him? Is this why he’s here?”

  “I’ve never seen him before,” Nzuri said, adding warm water and herbs to the basin. “Help me remove his clothes so that we can tend him properly. His wrist looks to be broken, and some wounds can’t be seen.”

  After sliding the covers away, Ahndargae took a knife from the basket, cutting through Nigel’s charred tunic.

  “Guardians help us,” Ahndargae gasped, moving away.

  Nzuri was confused until seeing what lie beneath Nigel’s tunic.

  “Ahndargae, I need you to retrieve the Zaxson and Nakshij immediately. Use the passage to the citadel and speak of this to no one save the Zaxson. Do you understand?”

  Ahndargae nodded nervously, looking at Nigel and then back to Nzuri.

  “Make haste.”

  Once Ahndargae had left, Nzuri wrung out the cloth, wiping the blood and dirt from Nigel’s chest. He stared down at the wound, reaching for his ointment and nectar. After applying a generous coat to his chest, Nzuri’s brow furrowed, examining what looked to be a symbol branded into his chest.

  “Gods.”

  “No. Not gods,” Nigel struggled to say.

  Nzuri removed a jar from the basket. After slightly elevating Nigel’s head, he raised it to his lips. “Who did this? What happened?” Nzuri asked.

  Nigel swallowed hard, attempting to clear the haze from his eyes. “You—you’re the son of Tabitha?”

  “Yes,” Nzuri said. “My mother’s name was Tabitha.”

  “Then…then…you are my cousin,” he said, losing consciousness again.

  “Nigel? Sir Branston?” Nzuri said. “Branston. Tabitha Branston,” he gasped, dropping the jar.

  “Did he tell you anything else, Ahndargae?” Pentanimir asked, rushing through the postern door.

  “No, Zaxson. He only told me to inform you and speak of it to no one else.”

  “Nigel Branston is the name he said?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “You’re certain?”

  “I am. That’s what the High Priest said.”

  “Very well. I need you to return to the citadel and inform Hushar of what you’ve told me. She’s in the nursery now. Ask her to prepare a room for Sir Branston near Allister d’Garrion’s. Keep this information confidential.”

  “Yes, sir,” Ahndargae said.

  “Wosen, retrieve a covered cart from the stable. Bring it to the rear entrance of the temple. We must have Nigel moved post haste.”

  “Yes, Zaxson.”

  “Brother, why do you think Nigel went to the temple?” Danimore asked.

  “That’s what I’d like to know. He’s certainly been conspiring with Molag. Mayhaps this is a ploy to gain access to restricted sections of the citadel.”

  “Ahndargae said that he was fatally wounded,” Temian said. “Could such injuries be faked in order to gain access?”

  “Anything is possible, but we won’t know until we see for ourselves,” Pentanimir said, opening the temple’s door. “For now, we’ll keep any information regarding Nigel’s condition between us. If these injuries are genuine, we’ll need to take care of him and find out what we can about his assailant. He doesn’t have any family in Nazil, so no one should inquire about his whereabouts. His father and siblings reside in Yarah.”

  “What about the other guards?” Temian asked.

  “If anyone questions, we’ll let them know that Nigel’s on leave.”

  “What about this benefactor Allister mentioned?” Danimore asked. “He might be looking for Nigel.”

  “Mayhaps we can learn about him as well,” Pentanimir said.

  He inclined his head as Ephron bowed, opening
the door for them to pass. The three made their way up the stairs and through the winding corridors. As they entered the chamber, they noticed the shattered glass on the floor, and Nzuri slumped on a chair with his face buried in his hands.

  “Nzuri? Are you all right?” Pentanimir asked as Temian and Danimore went to Nigel’s bedside.

  “I…I don’t know, Zaxson.”

  “What’s happened?”

  “The guards found Nigel near the northern wood and were told to bring him here.”

  “Who told them?”

  “Déshì Tân was tending to him.”

  “Have the brothers returned? Did they do this?”

  “No, only one was there, and he was helping Nigel when the guards arrived.”

  “But why? This doesn’t make any sense. Has Nigel said anything to you?”

  “Only briefly. He mentioned my mother.”

  “Tabitha? How would he—” Pentanimir gasped. “Tabitha Branston .”

  “Yes. My mother might be Nigel’s aunt. I’m not certain of anything right now, Zaxson. Not even the cause of his injuries.”

  “How, Nzuri, and why? Are his wounds true or could they be self-inflicted?”

  “No, these he didn’t do,” Nzuri said, moving back over to the cot. When he pulled the covers back, Pentanimir’s face paled.

  “That isn’t the Guardian’s mark, but it’s similar,” Temian said, looking to the others for confirmation.

  “I’ve never seen anything like it. How were the punctures made, Nzuri?” Danimore asked. “Was a weapon found near him?”

  Nzuri glanced at Pentanimir. Both had seen a similar mark, and not long ago. It was the same mark on Ahvixx’s chest after Mah’saahc’s attack during his meditation.

  “The guards didn’t mention a weapon. Whatever was used looks to have seared the image into his chest somehow. There are some other deep gashes, too, but the salve stopped the bleeding and will help seal the wounds. However, he’s going to need the nectar and continued treatments to recover fully.” Nzuri lifted Nigel’s arm. “Look at his wrist. I’ve never seen such extensive damage. The bones aren’t merely broken, many looked crushed. I won’t know until I’m able to look inside. He’ll never have proper use of it again.”

  “Who or what could possibly inflict such damage?” Pentanimir asked.

  “Of that, I couldn’t say. Many of our answers will have to come from Nigel.”

  Pentanimir sighed. “Allister, and now Nigel. What in all hells is happening? What next will we be forced to face?”

  “Brother, we don’t know if that’s what happened here,” Temian said. “We can’t be certain.”

  “What we do know is troubling enough. Nigel’s been actively conspiring against us, and now, he’s seeking our protection. Both Allister and Nikolina have suffered similar injuries.

  “This has to be related. I don’t believe in such coincidences. Angelaris said that Nikolina and Allister were merged to this mage and Mah’saahc somehow. Could Nigel be as well?”

  “You might be correct, Brother, but it won’t be known until it is. For now…” Danimore gestured to Wosen in the doorway.

  “Is the cart ready?” Pentanimir asked.

  “Yes, sir. It’s in the rear as you instructed.”

  “Good. Nzuri, we’re going to move Nigel to the citadel. Hushar has already prepared a room for him.”

  Nzuri nodded, sliding the blankets up to cover Nigel’s head.

  After gripping the edges of the cot, Wosen and Temian carried Nigel from the room.

  “Would you like to provide his care, Nzuri?” Pentanimir asked.

  “I think it would be best. Nigel came to me for a reason, and I’d like to know what that is. Besides, that emblem on his chest is telling. I’m just not certain of what.”

  “Nor I,” Pentanimir said. “I’d like to find these brothers, too. If they’ve returned, Symeon might know how to contact them.”

  “What took you so long?” Molag sneered as the men entered the dank room. He sat in a darkened corner with smoke from his pipe swirling ominously around him.

  The men paused, feeling an uneasiness that caused the hackles on their necks to raise.

  “Par—pardons, milord,” Cedric said, bowing. He was the only one of the three that moved forward, glancing back at the others. “There was Chosen ‘bout, and we couldn’t come right to ya. Urdan’s done increased ‘em throughout the village. He’s move’n wit’ purpose now that the council done agreed.”

  “The council?” Molag rose from his seat. “The Cha as well?”

  “Yes’m. He was the last to vote so, but he said yes. Them guards is all ‘bout us.”

  “Even so, the next time I send word, you’ll come immediately. I’ll not be kept in wait,” Molag said as his eyes flickered.

  The men looked at one another, taking a step back.

  “We was worried when ya left. Some said ya’d been taken to Nazil to face the question.”

  Molag grinned, enjoying the energies surging within him. “Indeed, I was in Nazil and beyond. However, it was by my own volition that it was so.”

  “Why’d ya leave us?” Cedric asked. “We lost most of our men dur’n the attack. Them others who was taken captive gots their heads lopped off.”

  “Had they heeded my words, that human whore and her abomination would both be dead.”

  “It was them Chosen of Yarah who done it. If’n they hadn’t been ‘bout, they would’a been kilt.”

  “Oh, they will die,” Molag assured, motioning toward the table.

  “How?”

  “I’ve met the most interesting of individuals, and learned that there are yet guards of Nazil who are loyal to our cause. They won’t bow to the usurper and turn against all that Nazil has forever been. It was by the workings of the Vereuxs that we achieved our greatness. The faithful among us won’t sit idle while our heritage is stolen, and the humans place us beneath their heels.”

  “Even if them guards ain’t loyal to the Benoists, others gotta be. Them human sentries are still com’n to Nazil join’n the guard. We hears the Zaxson ain’t take’n no chances wit’ his human whore and them abominations he sired.”

  “It will matter little when everything is in place,” Molag said, licking his lips. “Soon I’ll return to Nazil, but there’s much to prepare before that time. With my new associate’s assistance, every Benoist and their guards will be buried beneath the very ground they despoil.”

  Cedric glanced over at Dorran and back to Molag. “All? How so? We ain’t got the men to even stand against our guard, let alone Nazil’s.”

  “You doubt my words!” Molag said in a voice not seeming his own. “Too long have I dwelt in darkness! Too long have the pythonesses held dominion over these lands. The blood of Oisin is plentiful in the white city, and once I have what’s rightfully mine, every one of them will fall before me.”

  Cedric gasped, watching Molag’s eyes shift from pale blue to white and back again. He wiped the forming moisture from his upper lip, swallowing hard. “Are—are ya not well, Molag?”

  Molag answered with a cackle, flashing a wide, serrated smile. “Quite well, I assure. There’s much to do and little time to complete our tasks.”

  “What would ya have of us?”

  “Follow Aronin and Eithrig’s movements. Both have a strong allegiance to the Zaxson, and as you know, Aronin is his cousin. If Jarin Swayne makes a move toward Nazil, you’ll inform me immediately.”

  “Just follow?” Cedric asked for clarification.

  “For now. When the time comes for more, I’ll let you know. Now, leave me.”

  Molag walked to the soot-covered window, hearing the door close behind him.

  “Soon,” he said, as his smile returned.

  Uzon of K’ohshul

  “He’s traveling alone, Amare?”

  “Yes, Caretaker. Didn’t the message indicate the same?”

  “It did,” Hosdaq said. “But I thought it might be an error. Symeon rarely travel
s without the Zaxson. Please escort him to the solar, and then inform Kuhani of his arrival.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Hosdaq roughly rubbed his face, before pouring three cups of wine. The message he’d received from Nazil had piqued his curiosity. Nzuri didn’t provide much information, and that alone was an indication of more. He was anxious to find out exactly what it was.

  When Amare returned with Symeon, Hosdaq smiled, but he was also confused. Symeon hadn’t donned the pearl and gold liveries of the Chosen. Instead, he wore black leather trews and boots with a sleeveless, boiled-leather breast covering. In place of his Xtabyren, was an assegai, and several swords, knives, and shurikens.