Erich's Plea: Book One of the Witchcraft Wars

by Tracey Alley

surprised, although he reminded himself that he should not have been. It was highly likely the monks had known of the impending war long before he or even the mage, Nexus had known anything.

  “Oh yes, we have known for some time that war was inevitable, and as you can see here Solomon has been preparing. Much of this particular facility will be moved, however, given Ulrich's current agenda. We will likely have to make our move soon, probably in the next few days.” She paused, frowning slightly.

  “I have been left to make that ultimate decision,” the young lore keeper continued, “and feel certain that the move must come before the coronation but until then we must utilize our resources and remove the Knights of Belenus to Solomon’s new proposed location.”

  “And where is that, if I may know?” Michael was grateful for the assistance but he was also slightly put out at how much had been done without either his knowledge or his consent.

  “Of course you must know Lord Michael for you will naturally play a vital role in the days to come. The new location is the Castellan-Kemetian Mountains; near the site of our original home.”

  Michael threw back his head and laughed aloud at the irony, the only thing he had found to laugh about since he had returned to his homeland.

  Trusting the Enemy

  Slade pushed back the hood of his heavy robe and stood watching as Nikolai held an urgent, whispered conversation with The Dark One’s lieutenant. He had been as shocked as Wulfstan when the necromancer had embraced Malachi. Being a spell caster himself he did not share Wulfstan’s distrust of magic but now Slade was beginning to wonder if perhaps the soldier had not been right to mistrust Nikolai. As though he sensed Slade’s thoughts Nikolai turned towards the former prince, bringing out his small dagger which he used to cut the ropes binding them all together.

  “I realize that you have probably all got a lot of questions, you especially Slade,” Nikolai said as he worked, “all I ask is for you to trust me a little while longer.”

  “I never trusted you in the first place,” Wulfstan spat angrily.

  “Slade, look,” Nikolai appealed directly to Slade, ignoring Wulfstan, “I’m not armed, apart from that I’m also exhausted. You can see for yourself that Malachi’s not armed. I swear to you on the name of Bhaal that this is not a trap. I just need you to trust me for a little while longer.”

  “I will swear on the name of Thoth that I mean none of you any harm,” Malachi broke in, his voice low and intense. The chief lieutenant’s weather beaten face had the thick, full lips, high cheekbones and broad forehead of the Kemetian natives and his close cropped black hair was just touched with silver at the temples. Malachi’s large, liquid dark eyes appeared soft and kind and he had an air of quiet dignity.

  Slade looked up at the lieutenant, surprised. He knew that Thoth was the god of the book, dedicated to learning, knowledge and maintaining the balance. Thoth was the male counterpart and consort of his own beloved woodland goddess, Suelta. If Malachi were a worshipper of Thoth then Slade’s inclination was to trust him. The question remained as to how it was possible that a follower of Thoth could work so closely with The Dark One? Although Slade wanted to trust the dark-skinned wizard, and to continue to trust in Nikolai, he felt there were far too many unanswered questions. Slade was reluctantly coming to the conclusion that Wulfstan had likely been right about Nikolai all along.

  “Trunk like Malachi, he Trunk friend,” the ogre-troll rumbled as he too moved to embrace the wizard, just as Nikolai had. At the sight Slade gave vent to a deep and frustrated sigh. Regardless of his personal feelings about Nikolai the warning dream Slade had been given about his father had made it abundantly clear that he was to ‘follow the Trunk’, and that meant Slade would accept whoever Trunk was willing to accept.

  “All right, Nikolai,” Slade said finally, his reluctance obvious, “it appears we will have to trust you for a while longer.”

  “What?” Wulfstan turned on Slade in shocked anger, “Are you crazy? This mage has gotten us into nothing but trouble, how can you keep on trusting him?”

  “Wulfstan,” Tares interrupted before Slade had a chance to answer, “I do not like the necromancer any more than you do, however, I do believe that we are all, for the moment, on the same side.”

  “He’s got to you too Tares? Unbelievable. What is it you do to people Nikolai? Some kind of mind control? Get everyone thinking you’re the good guy? Well you can’t control my mind.”

  “Which only proves that I have no such power,” the mage answered caustically, “for if I did I could easily control such a tiny mind as yours.”

  Wulfstan started to move forward, his hand going to the blade he wore underneath his robes only to find himself held back by both Tares and Slade.

  “We will serve little good and achieve nothing if we fight among ourselves,” Tares appealed to Wulfstan.

  “Say what you like,” Wulfstan answered angrily, shaking both of them off him, “I don’t trust him and I never will but fine, go ahead, do what you like.”

  “Are you planning on leaving us then Wulfstan?” Nikolai inquired in a dangerously quiet voice.

  “Oh you’d like that wouldn’t you?”

  “Stop it, both of you,” Slade cut in, “Nikolai, I presume we’re not going to stand on this hillside all night?”

  Although Nikolai would have dearly loved to cut down the arrogant Wulfstan he knew that he had already lost a great deal of Slade’s trust and could not afford to lose more. Instead he turned with a tight lipped smile and explained that Malachi had a secure place near the eastern harbor where they could all spend the rest of the night. After a good nights sleep they would board a specially prepared boat at dawn that would take them to Saxenburg. Once they reached the secure hiding spot, Nikolai went on, he and Malachi would both be perfectly willing to answer any and all of Slade’s questions.

  At that comment Slade merely raised his eyebrows. The necromancer had already told him twice before in the space of this single day that he would be totally honest with Slade and yet each time Slade had discovered Nikolai had, in fact, not been completely forthright. Slade doubted very much that Nikolai would be any more forthcoming on this occasion than he had been on the previous ones. Still, Slade told himself, soon enough he would be home in Saxenburg where he would be able to see for himself how much of the necromancer’s story was true and how much was false.

  In a sullen silence that spoke volumes the group set out down the other side of the hill, Nikolai and Malachi in the lead. With the exception of Lara, who seemed to take every new development in her stride, everyone else seemed to be preoccupied, each one with their own thoughts. Slade found himself mulling over the things Nikolai had told him earlier. The necromancer had admitted that he had not been completely honest with Slade. In fact Nikolai had implied that he was not sure whether or not he could trust Slade. At that thought Slade almost laughed. That Nikolai was as unsure of him as he was of the necromancer was perhaps the most bizarre of all the days disturbing revelations.

  As the Sapphire moon began to rise the group trudged wearily across the eastern plain of Ixlan towards the harbor, a journey of close to eight miles. Slade was exhausted in body, mind and spirit. The horrors of his stay in Diablis had left him weak and ill-equipped for the exertions of today. It was only the sense of urgency he felt regarding his father that continued to drive the young druid forward.

  Nikolai had spoken of the dangers posed to The Kingdoms, of the need to unite against a greater threat. In his heart, Slade knew that his motivation, his only motivation, was his own family. When they had spoken earlier Nikolai had seemed convinced that High King Erich was likely dead, his brother Ulrich, allied with Shallendara and already on the throne and had claimed ignorance of the fate of Slade’s beloved sister, Ursula. Regardless of whatever else may happen along this journey Slade was determined to find out the fates of every member of his family.

  Eventually the group reached th
e outskirts of a small fishing village, remarkably clean and intact compared with its twin on the western side of Diablis city. The village had been arranged in a loose semi-circle around the harbor. There were private homes nestled beside market stalls and other businesses, all closed tight for the night. As they were approaching from Diablis, which was set on high ground, the tiny village was spread out before them. Malachi walked the group confidently to a small, two-story building close to the harbor that had obviously once been used as an inn or a boarding house. Although clean the darkened village appeared to be deserted, but on closer examination Slade noted small signs that indicated there were still people living in the village.

  “What is this place?” he asked Malachi.

  “A leftover,” the dark-skinned wizard said sadly, looking around him. “Before The Dark One took over here all, or most at least, of Ixlan was like this,” Malachi continued, “Little villages made up of groups of families living on the coast. They were not rich but they made a decent living, fishing mostly but also processing coastal herbs and flowers for trade. Then he came and all of that ended. Some of the villages, like this one, found the only way to survive was to become ‘invisible’. They do what’s required, they’ve learned to say all the