Mandala's Catalyst (Gardone Trilogy)

by Warren R. Henke

  “Who is Char?”

  “Our leader but nobody knows very much about him. He stays anonymous and hidden, which is good. We can’t afford to lose him. He started the Resistance…you really don’t know anything about it?”

  He shook his head.

  “Well, we are a secret group of people who do exactly what you did, ask questions. We also study the land, train with weapons, and even research magic… basically, everything that is forbidden.” She laughed. “With every new banishment we get an update, and from what we’ve heard, it sounds like things are going well.”

  “Are you trying to kill the Guide?”

  “No, well, not yet at least. We just want to learn the truth. Somebody is lying to us and it’s probably the Guide. We just know something isn’t right. And the fact that anyone who asks questions ends up here or dead supports it.”

  “Why doesn’t the Resistance just tell everyone the truth?”

  “People wouldn’t believe us. They want to believe in the good life. The truth is that the Guide probably wouldn’t have to hide the fact that he has us banished. The people would want it.”

  “No they wouldn’t!”

  “Think about it Jasper. You voiced a few minor thoughts to your best friend and what happened?”

  She had a point. “But how can they want that life?”

  “It’s complicated,” she said. “I remember the great war, it was horrible…the Guide came and changed that for us. Everyone loved him and the dragon. We would have been destroyed but he changed everything. Life is good now.”

  That sounded more like the Guide Jasper had always known. “He was kind when I met with him. Maybe he is doing what he thinks is right to keep the dark ones from returning. Maybe Nix is the evil one,” he said.

  “Nix may be evil, but I don’t think she works alone. The Guide wasn’t at all kind when I met with him. The strange thing is that nobody really ever openly opposed the Guide; we just asked questions, like you. But he kills us for it. Why would he kill us for asking questions if he wasn’t hiding something?”

  Breaking branches and hustled footsteps silenced them both. Jewel looked at the door expectantly as somebody rushed to it.

  “Jewell!” a gruff voice said from outside.

  “Come in,” Jewell said.

  The skins were pushed aside and sunlight streaked into the hut. A long haired bearded man popped his head into the opening.

  “Four guards have come through,” said the voice, breathing heavily. “They have three others; a woman, a girl, and the queen.”

  Jasper sat up. “My mother?”

  The man looked at Jasper, “someone wearing the queen’s robes, if that’s your mother.”

  “Is Trask with them?” Jewell asked.

  “No. They’ll be killed if we don’t do something.”

  Jewell spun around to Jasper. “I’ve got to go.”

  Jasper jumped to his feet.

  “Oh no, you stay here. You are in no shape to be running around in the forest.”

  “I don’t care, I’m coming. You can’t stop me.”

  “We can’t wait for you. If you get lost, just don’t cross the river.” She stood and turned to the bearded man. “Get the weapons.”

  * * * The moon was high in the sky, the windmill far behind them, but they were still running. He should be running towards Jasper, not away from him. So when 1 stopped and set down the bag that had been hanging over his shoulder, Len tried to keep his irritation hidden.

  “I have to get back to the castle. Jasper doesn’t have much time.”

  1 ripped off his mask and Len looked away.

  “I’m too hot. Take yours off if you want, I know who you are,” 1 said, panting.

  Len did and the fresh air was a relief. He didn’t know how far they had run, but they had come further south than normal people dared travel.

  “Are we safe out there?” Len said over his shoulder.

  “Yes, I live out here.”

  Len spun around, furious but stopped short of facing 1 directly. It still didn’t seem right to see 1’s face. “My son could lose his life and you are running home?” This time, he didn’t hide is frustration.

  “I’m taking you to see Char.”

  “Char?” Len felt like a foolish child for his outburst.

  “Yes, he wants to meet you and he’s the only one that can authorize an operation to rescue Jasper.”

  “I thought we weren’t allowed to see Char,” Len said.

  “I didn’t say you would see him, I said you’d meet him.”

  Len heard 1 picked up the bag.

  “You can look at me, Len, it’s alright.”

  Len turned around and a sweaty face topped with short, curly, black hair smiled at him.

  “I’m Horvold,” he reached out to shake Len’s hand.

  Len took it. “Horvold, as in—”

  “—Yes,” Horvold interrupted, “King Horvold was my grandfather. My father was the prince.”

  “But Prince Horvold wasn’t married when he died.”

  “Yes, well, that’s why I survived. My grandfather wouldn’t let him marry the woman he loved, so he lived a secret life with her…my mother. When the dark ones killed the royal family, they didn’t know I existed.”

  “But why didn’t you step forward after the war?”

  Horvold looked grave. “I did.”

  Len waited, but Horvold’s eyes glossed over as he pondered something. “And, what happened?” Len finally said.

  Horvold jolted. “Something I don’t want to talk about. Let’s go see Char.” Horvold motioned into the forest. “In there. And just to warn you, he’s not like us.”

  “What do you mean not like us?”

  “You’ll see. Follow me.”

  Horvold cut across the meadow to the shadowed forest ahead and Len followed. How was Char different? A giant? No legs? Maybe his tongue had been cut out. When the moon vanished behind the thick forest canopy, Len found himself encased in blackness. He walked with his arms outstretched, stepping carefully as he concentrated on the sound of Horvold’s footsteps.

  “I can’t see,” Len whispered, as if the forest was listening.

  “Just stay close, we’re almost there,” Horvold said, not whispering.

  Len stumbled several times and suddenly all was quiet. “Horvold?”

  Nothing. Although he trusted Horvold, he couldn’t stop the mental images of wild beasts ripping apart his body.

  A deep, brusque voice spoke a short distance to his right. “Welcome, Len. I am Char.”

  Len turned to face the voice and tried to see through the darkness.

  “Please sit,” it said.

  Len sat in the soft dirt. “Char?”

  “Tell me what you know of the Guide,” Char said.

  “I don’t know more than what everyone knows.”

  “Aren’t you close to him, as king?”

  “No, not at all. I do very little as king.” Where was Char? What was Char? “The Guide lives in the top northern part of the castle where only his guards are allowed. My daughter spends time with him, unfortunately.” Char didn’t sound human but no animal had ever been known to speak. It was impossible.

  “I thought you made laws and led the council?” Char’s low voice made Len’s chest rumble.

  “They make it look that way, but the council members make the decisions and I go along with whatever they say. I just attend the banquets, sit on the thrown, and try and look important.”

  Char grunted, or was it a laugh?

  “Do the council members spend time with the Guide?”

  “Other than Sir Knudson, I don’t know. He’s the Guide’s right arm. The Guide keeps to himself...praying and studying.”

  “I had hoped you could tell me more about him. Hmmm…what do you know about the dungeons?”

  “I’ve never seen them. I’m sorry I’m not more help.”

  “Don’t apologize; just tell me what you know.”

  “All
I know is they are near the vaults, deep inside the castle. I know there are always guards watching them.”

  “Are you free to explore them?”

  “Maybe, but it would attract attention. It’s not one of the places I know I’m allowed, but I haven’t been forbidden either.”

  Char didn’t answer immediately and Len took advantage. “My son has been banished; can you help me save him?”

  “That is why I asked you about the dungeons. I know about your son Jasper.”

  A silence filled the darkness, Len waited for Char to continue.

  “Your dungeon has an entrance to a cavern that is closely guarded by the Guide. I think he is hiding something inside it. We know the banished are taken into it and led to the other side.”

  “Through the mountain?”

  “Yes.”

  “But I thought they were executed?”

  “They are supposed to be. One of the Guide’s personal guards is a member of our group. His identity is secret and the information I am about to share with you must be protected with your life.”

  “Of course,” Len found himself nodding uselessly in the dark.

  “Trask is often on the crew that takes the banished to be chained against a cliff and left for the—” Char growled, “—dark ones, but he doesn’t lock the chains. The prisoners are often beaten so severely they are barely alive by that time so we don’t know how many, if any, have survived.”

  “He beats them?” Len knew Trask, a young impressive guard. He couldn’t imagine him beating Jasper or anyone. He’d always thought Trask to be a good man.

  “Not Trask, but I’ve instructed him never to do anything that would give reason for any suspicion. We need him where he is. It is not easy for him; he suffers great personal anguish because of it. But he does it for the greater good; for all of us.”

  Len was still appalled. “Why doesn’t he go back and help them?”

  “The caverns are guarded closely and the door on the other side is magically sealed. There is one key and the Guide monitors it very closely. Trask has tried to go into the caverns alone to see if any of our brothers are alive on the other side, but it hasn’t been possible. And every time he is sent with prisoners, there are at least three other guards. So far, we have been able to do nothing.”

  Char breathed heavily for a moment. Len was amazed at the massive amounts of air he could hear being drawn into his body. He heard liquid sloshing followed by deep gulps.

  “Your language hurts my throat.” Char drank again then continued. “How much do you know about the Guide’s history?”

  “He showed up and saved us, that’s all I know for sure. Some say he came from a small farm in the north, perhaps near the mountains where he found the dragon. But nobody really knows.”

  “That’s right, nobody knows. And what do you think happens to all the animals that you offer to Nix?”

  “I always assumed he ate them, for food,” Len said.

  “Even a dragon doesn’t eat that much food,” Char said.

  “So what happens to them?”

  “I don’t know. The Guide has so many secrets we don’t know where to start. I can tell you one thing you don’t know. The dark ones live in constant fear of the oppressors, you Len. But they are protected from man by a great dragon.”

  “The dark ones have a dragon?”

  “The same dragon, Nix. They worship and honor it just like you do. They make large offerings, draining their resources to keep its protection.”

  “But how, why would—”

  “—But the most disturbing part is that they also have leader who showed up 30 years ago and brought peace and prosperity to their kingdom. They worship her and follow strict rules, just like you do the Guide. She is known as the Director.”

  Chills spiked Len’s arms and back. Was this possible? It would mean…he couldn’t even think it. Years ago, when he’d begun questioning the sacrifices to Nix, he had never suspected the Guide might be involved. Now he believed the Guide was hiding something, but to suggest he might be in league with the dark ones was outrageous. And how could Char possibly know this?

  Afraid of the answer, Len asked, “And how do you know all of this?”

  Bones creaked as a massive creature stood. From above came Char’s voice. “Because I am a dark one.”

  The ground pulsed as two heavy footsteps brought Char closer and Len jumped to his feet. He resisted a desire to run as he sensed Char dropping to a knee in front of him. Through the darkness, Len saw the faint outline of a giant head.

  He was afraid, but fear wasn’t making his hands quiver. It was something else. A shift in reality rippled through his mind as it rewrote history. He had justified brutal attacks against the dark ones because they were animals: brutal monsters that by nature hungered for human blood, like a wolf. And when a wolf attacks, you kill it. A sudden wave of remorse for hundreds who had fallen by his own sword made his hands shake and his eyes tear.

  “None of us understood, Len. I am touched by your compassion but do not blame yourself. We all did what we thought was right.”

  How did Char know how he was feeling?

  “We don’t know for sure that your Guide and our Director are working together, but it appears likely. Regardless, they have enslaved our nations by using a common tool, our fear of each other,” Char said.

  Char’s breath bathed his face in a warm stench; not putrid, but far from pleasant. “We have Resistance in Toq, my kingdom, my people—”

  “—dark ones?” Len interrupted.

  “Yes, nearly equal to your numbers. But as I’m sure you prefer to be called human rather than the oppressors, we prefer to be called the ataiki: our name for our race. We are a proud, strong, and intelligent race, just as you.”

  “Ataiki,” Len said, although it didn’t sound nearly the same from his own mouth.

  “Brother,” Char said. “Let us fight this evil together.”

  Len heard movement and saw the shadow of a very large arm extend towards him. Never had he imagined an alliance could be formed with the dark ones…the ataiki. He reached out and his hand and part of his arm were enveloped in a large, hairy grasp.

  “Brother,” Len said. It felt right.

  “Now, you must hurry to beat the sun,” Char said. “You don’t want to be missed and I know you want to speak with Trask about Jasper. Horvold and I still have business, but you must now return.”

  Len nodded. He felt a human hand take his arm.

  “I’ll lead you out,” Horvold said.

  Chapter 9

  Stolen Souls

  CLANK!

  Migun banged the old, metal knocker for the second time that night. And like the first time, the window squeaked open.

  “You, again?” the guard, still sleepy, asked.

  “Yes, sorry, the queen has me running around tonight.”

  The door opened and she walked through. At this late hour most lights were extinguished, especially the ones in the back corridors. She took a small lamp from a shelf behind the door and held it up to the torch burning on the wall. A flame jumped across to her wick. With her lamp illuminating the hallway ahead and her shadow filling the passageway behind her, she hurried to the royal bedroom.

  She reached it and tapped on the servant’s door. It swung open and the room was dark.

  “Tari?” She said, just above a whisper.

  She walked slowly into the room. “Tar..Tari?”

  The lamplight reached the edge of the bed and she saw something on the floor. This room was kept immaculate; something left on the floor meant that something was not right. Her heart raced and she forced herself to step closer. Blankets and pillows were strewn across the floor; she froze. Was somebody behind her? Watching her?

  Her eyes searched the room, then she heard somebody take a breath behind her. She smelled the vapors of an extinguished torch. Were they after her or just watching? Could she just walk out? Across the room the moonlight carved a diagonal column of blue
light from the window to the floor. The square patch of light on the floor almost reached the main door.

  Doing her best to appear calm, she raised the lamp as if she was looking into the distance. Then, with a quick puff of air, she extinguished it and the room became dark. She took quick silent steps towards the light across the room; the door wasn’t far. But when footsteps clamored behind her, she screamed, dropped the lamp, and sprinted.

  The lamp tinged as it hit the floor and then crashed against the wall; probably kicked by whoever was behind her. Migun reached the door, opened it, and flew out into the hall right into the arms of Sir Knudson. She knocked him back several steps but he kept his balance. She felt a tight grip around her neck and twisted and fought, but it was pointless.

  “Migun, how fortunate. We were looking for you.”

  “I need to see the queen!” she squirmed and the grip tightened.

  “We can do this the easy way or the hard way, it’s up to you.”

  She kicked and twisted again and he shoved her. She fell forward and reached out to break her fall, but it was too late. Her forehead slammed against the cobblestone. A flash of light and a sharp pain shot through her skull. She was vaguely aware of her arms being pulled behind her back and lashed tightly together.

  “Fine, we’ll do this the hard way. Now, get up.”

  Her head throbbed. Her knees stung. Her arms felt like they were being ripped from her shoulders.

  A foot nudged her side. “Get up the easy way, or I’ll help you up the hard way!”

  She rolled to her side and tried to stand but couldn’t with both hands tied behind her. She rocked back and forth, trying to get position. A hand grabbed her from behind and pulled, lifting both arms high behind her back and twisting her shoulders. She bit down, holding back a scream as tears welled and she was pulled to her feet and stood. A shove in the back moved her forward.

  She followed his orders; turn right, through that, straight ahead. They weaved through corridors and passageways she didn’t know existed. They finally approached a door and two guards she didn’t recognize.

  “Open up,” Knudson said from behind her.

  One of the guards pulled out a set of keys and unlocked the door.