The Scarab's Power (The Savage and the Sorcerer Book 2)

by Craig Halloran

  The Scarab’s Power

  The Savage and the Scoundrel: Book 2

  By Craig Halloran

  The Scarab’s Power

  Book #2

  By Craig Halloran

  Copyright © 2017 by Craig Halloran

  Amazon Edition

  TWO-TEN BOOK PRESS

  P.O. Box 4215, Charleston, WV 25364

  ISBN eBook: 978-1-946218-15-5

  www.craighalloran.com

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, recorded, photocopied, or otherwise—without the prior permission of the copyright owner, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review.

  Publisher's Note

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Table of Contents

  BOOK LIST

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  CHAPTER 10

  CHAPTER 11

  CHAPTER 12

  CHAPTER 13

  CHAPTER 14

  CHAPTER 15

  CHAPTER 16

  CHAPTER 17

  CHAPTER 18

  CHAPTER 19

  CHAPTER 20

  OTHER BOOKS AND AUTHOR INFO

  BOOK LIST

  CHAPTER 1

  “Finster, Finster, Finster.” The dungeon cells of the Red Citadel were abandoned save for one. Gregory sat on a wooden bed, rocking back and forth with his handless arms around his knees. His dopey eyes were fixed on the wall. Around his knees, a bulging eye as big as a man’s head hung like a mirror. Its stony lid blinked like a living thing. “Show it again,” Gregory said.

  The eye’s pupil and sea-green iris vanished, replaced by the image of something else. The mystic eyeball revealed the throne room of the Magus Supremeus.

  Gregory watched the final battle between Ingrid, Finster, and Moth. It had happened days ago. Finster and the savage triumphed over Ingrid’s wickedness. They killed every guardian inside the citadel, leaving Gregory abandoned. His stomach groaned. He hadn’t had a scrap of food since. He tried to rub his mouth with fingers that were no longer there. He sighed. I’ll never get used to feeling them but not having them. He kicked the wall.

  “I cannot believe that arrogant fool, Finster, fell into this! Of all wizards, why him? He should have died. I would have had a small kingdom of my own if he had.” With his stump, he brushed brown locks from his eyes. “When I get out of here, I’ll get what’s coming to me. Finster won’t see it coming.”

  In truth, Finster wasn’t a fool. If anything, he was wise not to trust Gregory. Accusing him of being a spy was accurate. Indeed, Ingrid did cut off Gregory’s hands in exchange for his life and servitude. He didn’t have the ability to use his magic, but he was connected to the citadel’s guardian eye. He could see anything that occurred within the walls as well as anything coming a mile outside. Ingrid told him it was a gift. It had been one he took full advantage of.

  He waved off the eye. “Go. I’ve no use for you until the King of Mendes arrives.” He stomped his foot on the floor. “I’m starving! Lead him here when he comes.” He stood up. Dizziness assailed him. Groaning, he lay back on his stomach. He’d finished off the last of the water in his bucket a day ago, and there was no one left to bring him any more. Typically, the Red Citadel had numerous servants. Ingrid sent them all away or, in most cases, scared them all away.

  Fully confident in her triumph, Ingrid had made arrangements for King Rolem of Mendes to visit her at the Citadel. Typically, kings would never travel to such a place. They rarely left their kingdoms, aside from going hunting or perhaps going to war if they were needed.

  “She must have promised him pleasures beyond his wildest imagination.” He made a hollow whistle. “I suppose I would have fallen for her wiles, too. After all, I did let her cut off my hands but only after promising to restore them. I just have to find Finster and that barbarian.” He tapped his stumps together. “Slaying him won’t be easy. Not with the power he now wields. I never would have believed there was a Founder’s Stone if he hadn’t shown up with it.” He cleared his dry throat. “But how will I kill them?” His wicked machinations came to life in his mind. He found sleep with a crooked smile hiding his teeth.

  A presence stirred Gregory from a deep, drooling slumber. He sat up on the edge of his bed. The eye had returned to the wall of his cell, and there was an image in the eye—men in brightly burnished plate armor swatting at flies that lingered over the dead citadel guardians lying on the steps to the throne room. The soldiers fought to pry open the doors to the throne room but could not.

  “Heh heh.” Gregory cracked a smile. “They’ll be here soon enough.”

  It was hours before the soldiers’ search led them to the dungeons. They checked all of the empty cells before coming to a stop in front of Gregory’s. The rugged soldier with long blond hair and peaked eyebrows said to him, “Stay back. Stay silent.” To another solider, he said, “Fetch the king.”

  Gregory sat with his arms and legs crossed. No one talked, but his stomach made loud gurgling noises.

  Finally, a man stepped in front of the bars. The insignia of a king was emblazoned on his shoulder. Dressed in a fine traveling cloak, the king was a tall man, slight in build, with a beard of rich chestnut mixed with red. His light eyes were soft, but his voice carried strength. “Who are you, man?”

  Gregory dropped to both knees and laid his stumps on the ground. “Your Majesty! My savior! I am your humble servant.”

  “Yes, everyone in this kingdom is. Now, stop groveling, stand, and give me your name. I won’t ask it again.”

  Gregory rose. Eyes downcast, he said, “I am Gregory, a former practitioner of the Seventh Order of the High Mages. Now, as you can see, a prisoner.”

  King Rolem arched an eyebrow. “You? A magus? You don’t have any hands. And even without the hands, you don’t look the part of a wizard.” He slapped the chest of the blond-headed knight. “What do you think, Buckner? Is this wizard without hands what he says he is?” His voice darkened. “Or is he a liar?”

  Buckner rubbed his chin. He stepped forward, inspecting Gregory head to toe with his eyes. “My king, I’m certain you don’t need to be reminded I am a man of the field, not accustomed to the actions of wizards. With that said and being a person of instinct, I believe this man is not what he says he is. Might you indulge me with an example?”

  “Please do,” the king said.

  “Your Majesty, if I didn’t have any hands, would you assume I was a swordsman?”

  “Ah.” The king toyed with his chin whiskers. “I see where you are going with this, but I would dismiss you as a swordsman. Rather, I’d make the claim that you are a lousy swordsman.”

  The young knight blanched. “Er… well said, sire.”

  “Ha! It’s a jest, Buckner! Laugh. All of you laugh.”

  Buckner began to laugh. The other soldiers in the room laughed, too.

  “What are you laughing for?” King Rolem screamed. His face reddened. “The Red Citadel is a blood bath, and my bride is missing! You find this amusing?” He snatched a crossbow from a soldier and shot the man in the chest, piercing his breastplate. The man crumpl
ed to the floor. Rolem handed the crossbow to Buckner. “Reload it!”

  Buckner found the dead soldier’s quiver, locked back the string, and loaded another bolt. Shaking, he handed it to Rolem. “It’s ready, Your Majesty.”

  “Excellent.” Rolem pointed the crossbow at Gregory. “You have five seconds to convince me that you are a wizard. One…”

  CHAPTER 2

  Covering his face with his arms, Gregory said in a shrill voice, “I can get you inside the throne room. I swear it! I’m the only one that can get you in.”

  Putting pressure on the trigger, Rolem asked, “How did you know we were trying to get into the throne room?”

  Gregory swallowed. Rolem was quick. He was forcing Gregory to reveal his hand, and he didn’t want to do that just yet. He didn’t want to die, either. Trembling, he said, “The guardian eye. I can see through it. Look for yourself.”

  “I don’t see this preposterous eye you are talking… oh, now that’s interesting.”

  Peeking through his arms, Gregory saw Rolem shoulder the crossbow. He was staring right at the eye that had appeared on the wall inside his cell.

  “So this is the Eye of the Citadel. Ingrid mentioned it. Gregory, please explain to me how a prisoner such as yourself has the ability to control this… thing?”

  “Your Majesty, I had an arrangement with Ingrid. I am her spy. I sacrificed my very hands to serve her. To serve you, my lord.”

  Rolem tilted his head. “I’m supposed to believe that you willingly gave up your hands to serve her. Don’t take me for a fool, groveler. Be honest.” He lowered the crossbow again. “Your life depends on it.”

  “Sire, I’m a weak man. She caught me observing her in a moment of privacy. It angered her.”

  “Stop lying! Ingrid was as modest as a tavern whore, Gregory. Actually, less so, but keep that between us men, Buckner,” he said, half joking, to the men. “Granted, she did have the body of a goddess, and I could hardly blame the man whose eyes defiled her. Still, your tale is a lie, and I’m losing patience. The truth, now, Gregory!”

  “I stole from her.”

  “And what did you steal?”

  “A ring. It had a charming power.”

  Rolem started laughing. He tossed the crossbow to Buckner. “Gregory the Guile. I would say I’m pleased to meet you, but given the circumstances, I’m not. Let him out.”

  Gregory’s jaw hung open. Finally, with awe, he asked, “Forgive me, Your Majesty, but do my ears fool me? Ingrid spoke of me?”

  “Yes. She was very open about many things, particularly the men in the Red Citadel. I wasn’t comfortable with her being surrounded by the perverts rumored to run the tower. She gave me assurances. You were an example she shared. I almost would never have believed it if I hadn’t see it for myself. Come.”

  They headed out of the dungeons and up the stairs to the main courtyard that led to the throne room. Gregory’s mind raced as he tried to put things together. He hadn’t gotten the impression that Ingrid was so intimate with Rolem. She shared more than he would have expected. And the way Rolem spoke of her with fondness and admiration alluded to the two of them relating on a deeper level. He thought of the man that Rolem had impaled with the crossbow. That had been a coldhearted act. He ran the scene through his mind once more. Standing at the door, he shivered. The maniacs were meant for each other.

  King Rolem gazed up at the huge door made from a single slab of granite. On each side, the fire in the cauldrons carved with stone dragons still burned. In the flickering light, the arcane symbols quavered as if they were alive. Rolem asked, “Tell me, Gregory, have you seen what is on the other side?”

  “I have,” he replied.

  “Is she… dead?”

  “Yes.”

  Rolem took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Open it.”

  “As you wish, Your Majesty. It will be a grisly sight.”

  “I don’t need a warning. I’m a king. I’ve seen what I’ve conquered. Not even the smell disturbs me.”

  Gregory spoke out the enchanted words. The massive granite door lifted, and the stench of death hit him in the face so hard he stepped back. The soldiers covered their noses.

  King Rolem waltzed inside as if it were a sunny day filled with spring air. He made his way to the throne of the Magus Supremeus. The silver-and-iron throne was now stained with blood. The gems that encrusted the throne, the ones not covered in the dried red grit of battle, still twinkled. He sat on it. “A marvelous piece of craftsmanship. Certainly worthy of Ingrid.” His eyes scanned the bodies. Flesh hung from muscles. Maggots wriggled in the flesh. “There is my fallen queen.”

  Gregory covered his nose with his forearm. He tried to ignore the buzzing flies that landed on his face, but it was impossible. He didn’t have anything to swat at them with, either. I used to kill two flies at once with my hands. Now I can’t kill any.

  Rolem laid his cloak alongside Ingrid’s deteriorating body and pulled the spear from her chest. Aside from the gaping wound, she was surprisingly well-preserved. Rolem scooped her up with the tenderness of a lover and set her on the cloak. Holding her cold, dead hands, tears streamed down his face. He lifted his face to the cracked, vaulted ceiling and screamed upward in a shattered voice, “Why? By the gods, why? Two great loves are gone!” He swayed. “Grant me vengeance, lords of the skies! I will avenge her! I will kill the dogs that murdered this sweet love of mine!” He covered her body in the cloak, picked her up, and laid her in the arms of the throne.

  The soldiers cast nervous looks at one another.

  Gregory’s own heart was racing. He’s going to kill someone. I know it. He shuffled a half step away from the nearest soldier.

  Rolem rubbed his puffy eyes and took a breath. “Whew!” He regained his composure. “Buckner, get all the dead out of here. Quickly!”

  Buckner saluted. “Yes, my king!” He scrambled the soldiers. In a few minutes, they had all the dead out of the room except for Ingrid.

  Gregory found himself alone in the throne room with the king. The man’s soft eyes blazed with a deep and dangerous inner fire. He’d seen that same fire in Ingrid.

  “Now that we have a moment, Gregory, tell me who killed my ravishing bride-to-be.”

  “It was a magus named Finster.”

  CHAPTER 3

  “Finster. I know this name,” Rolem said. “Why does it sound so familiar to me? Ingrid never mentioned him.”

  Approaching the throne, Gregory said, “He is a notorious merchant of death, a renegade mage with a hunger for power. The order banished him decades ago as his work was full of treachery. Do you recall Shangley, the city that never sleeps?”

  “That’s where Ingrid hails from. Those people walk like the dead now, I hear. This Finster is the monster behind that?”

  “He was one of those mages. Yes, sire.”

  King Rolem looked askance. “I’m to believe that Finster, a powerful mage, gored her with a spear, then? That doesn’t make sense to me.”

  “He is the reanimator. Common objects are his to command. He bends wood and metal to his will.”

  “I see. And how can you be certain it was him?”

  “A fine question. The Eye of the Citadel revealed it to me. I watched in horror, helpless to do anything about it.” Gregory’s fingertips tingled even though they were no longer there. He wrestled with whether he should be fully forthcoming or not. He hoped he wouldn’t have to reveal the power of the eye, but Rolem was clever. His hand was forced. Almost-full disclosure was the best option. “Finster did not operate alone, either, Your Majesty. There was a savage. Ingrid had Finster defeated, but the savage, a northerner, proved to be her undoing.”

  “You reveal vivid details.”

  “I can barely sleep because of it.”

  Standing over the throne, Rolem stroked Ingrid’s platinum hair. The flies did not buzz in her presence. Her soft skin was still supple. “I was curious about the bloody footprints. I found it difficult to believe that Finste
r had such large feet. The size of those prints is almost inhuman. Though there is a servant in my castle, Eljoy, with feet bigger than paddles. He works the wine vats day and night. Do you like making wine, Gregory? Without your hands, you’d be well suited for it.”

  “I was never a drinker, but I am at your disposal always, Your Majesty.” He watched as Rolem made his way around the throne room. He traversed the broken tiles and piles of rubble with wide-eyed fascination. It was clear the Rolem had a keen eye that took in every detail. Rolem’s family line was renowned for knighthood and hunting. Their bloodline was thick and deep. “May I shed light on anything, Your Majesty?”

  From a squatting position, Rolem removed his dagger from a scabbard that was fastened to his belt. He speared a severed hand with the point of his dagger. “This was quite a battle. This savage, describe him.”

  “He was a hairless brute, I’d say seven feet tall with an arm span as great as an eagle’s wings. He didn’t speak. A mute, I believe. He was incarcerated with Finster. They escaped.”

  “Ah, that explains those bars in the dungeon that were torn asunder. That is most formidable. Gregory, I feel you still aren’t being very forthcoming with me. I shouldn’t have to remind you that I converse daily with nothing but the kingdom’s finest liars and swindlers. I hang them routinely.”

  Gregory swallowed. He swept his forearm over his sweating brow. “Ingrid sought after an artifact called the Founder’s Stone. She believed that Finster had it. As it turns out, Finster used to be her mentor, so she had him brought in. She was the Magus Supremeus. She wanted more power. She felt she needed it.”

  Rolem nodded. “Continue.”

  “I was placed in the cell near to Finster, who shared a cell with the barbarian prisoner. I was supposed to spy on Finster, gain his trust and, hopefully, discover the location of the stone. But he wasn’t fooled and knew me for a spy. Finster and the barbarian escaped. Ingrid allowed it, hoping he would lead her to the stone. She and Commander Crawley pursued them, taking the Citadel Guardians as their army. She returned with the Guardians. Commander Crawley didn’t. Then Finster came. He and the barbarian defeated her. It didn’t seem possible, but they did.”