The Marenon Chronicles Collection

by Jason D. Morrow

  All of them turned their heads when the door opened again and Marcus came through. The man looked tired and disheveled. None of them spoke as they waited for him to give his report.

  “We were right. They will march on Mudavé tomorrow.”

  “Their numbers?” Anithistor asked.

  “Eight to ten thousand,” Marcus said. “They consist of Humans and Erellens, but they do not outnumber us.”

  “Very good,” Anithistor said. “Our troops are already on alert, and will be waiting for them. Tomorrow, you will be in charge of the Sphere,” he told Marcus.

  “What? Why?”

  “I need someone there that I can trust.”

  “That’s the first thing they are going to try and destroy,” Marcus argued.

  “Which is exactly why I want you there. You are smart, a good commander. I will get the Sphere started for you whenever the battle begins, but then you are in charge of it. You will command it.”

  Marcus said nothing, but Damon knew it wasn’t out of grateful acceptance. Marcus was angry, but he knew that arguing with Anithistor could be a fatal mistake for him. The king was coming to a point where he no longer needed the Sleepers, and that was a dangerous place for the two of them to be. Damon wasn’t worried too much for his own safety. He still had something that none of the other Sleepers ever had; a quality that Hroth and Anithistor had thought to be invaluable. All of them just might get the chance to find out tomorrow.

  “Have we ruled out a preemptive attack on their camps?” Damon asked.

  Marcus shook his head. “Any approaching army would be seen from miles away. They have sarians patrolling their skies.”

  “It’s no matter,” Anithistor said. “We want the battle to occur near the Sphere. We want to be as close to the walls of Mudavé as possible. Tomorrow, both of you will need to keep your minds clear. Hroth will be in his tower, telling you everything he sees, encouraging you along the way.” He looked at Damon. “Reminding you of who you are now. Not who you used to be.”

  Tomorrow is the biggest day of your life, Hroth told him.

  Maybe so. But it could also be my last.

  The same goes for all of us.

  Not you, Damon thought. You will be locked safely away in your tower.

  None of us are safe.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Julian walked the familiar path toward the city of Mudavé. This was the same path where he and Garland had found Silas and the mercenaries before their journey into Mudavé three months before, though he was much closer to the Stühocs’ capital now.

  The sun had not yet peeked its first rays over the dusty horizon but Julian was already very close to the city. The Human and Erellen armies would have left over an hour before, and would take a different, broader road to the Stühoc fortress.

  At first, Julian was surprised that he hadn’t run into any Stühoc patrols, but he just assumed that all the soldiers had been called back to the city. His plan to get in was simple, though he had no idea if it would work. If he failed, he would be killed, but that did not mean all would be lost. The Stühocs could still be defeated without Julian. He just wanted to make it a little easier for the rest of them.

  The sky was still dark when the city came into view. It looked similar to what he had witnessed through the small scope when scouting ahead a few nights before, only there were no more tents or fires; just soldiers waiting. Most were not asleep; they were probably anticipating an attack this morning.

  Anithistor’s Soldiers of the Dead had been caged or chained to each other so none of them could wander off too far. Their mindless bodies required no sleep, only instruction from the one that controlled the Sphere.

  He pulled his sword from its sheath and held it sideways above his head and marched toward the city gate.

  “Hey!” Julian yelled to the Stühoc guards standing on the wall. It was probably too difficult to see him in the darkness. He lit his sword on fire with a magical thought and waved it back and forth like a flag.

  “Hey!” he yelled again, knowing that a single arrow could end his little plan in a second.

  But no one shot him.

  He could see the gate crack open and a group of angry, confused Stühoc soldiers rushed at him.

  Julian knew he was about to feel some pain. He put out the fire and sheathed his sword, then held his hands in the air.

  “I’m not here to fight,” he said when the guards came only feet from him. They each held out a sword or a spear, surrounding him with caution.

  “I am King Julian Hobbes of the Humans. I’m here to see Hroth. I know that…” He didn’t finish his sentence before something hit him in the back of the head and he fell to the dirt.

  Later, when Julian tried to open his eyes, he wasn’t sure they were working. But, eventually, they adjusted to the dark. He saw that he was in a prison cell. Cold stones paved the floor below him, as well as the walls surrounding him.

  He felt no restraints on his arms or legs, but he had been stripped of his cloak and weapons. He grasped around his chest and neck, and his fingers found the small whistle resting against his skin. He was glad they hadn’t taken it.

  The back of his head felt like someone had used it as a chopping block. The slightest movement shot a continuous, throbbing pain through the rest of his skull.

  He was the Stühoc’s prisoner, just as planned, but that had been the easy part. What remained of his plan depended on his ability to think on his feet, and a tremendous amount of luck.

  In a brief moment of doubt, he couldn’t believe that he had put himself in this position. He knew he was trying to do the honorable thing; to right his wrongs, although he knew he could never fully atone for them. He was finished strutting around, pretending that he had never done anything wrong. His deeds had been selfish and futile, and rescuing the people of Jekyll Rock had hardly changed the kind of person he had become.

  The Stühocs had manipulated him, but this was not an excuse. He thought about the man he had allowed to die. Daniel. The guilt of letting him perish that way crushed Julian. The man’s wife had been able to see her husband for a brief moment of freedom before he was taken from her forever.

  He thought of his angry vendetta against the Dunarian Council that claimed three more lives.

  He thought about his brother, Morgan, who slipped through his fingers to a crushing death from the royal balcony.

  Julian had hoped that saving Jekyll Rock would come close to making up for all of it, but it hadn’t. There would never be a way to undo what he had done. He had become a monster without even knowing it. Now it was too late.

  That’s why Nalani no longer wanted him. She feared him and what he was capable of.

  His father would have been so ashamed of him too. Julian was glad that Ruben Hobbes wasn’t alive to see his youngest son fall.

  Even now, Julian found himself looking for redemption through his actions. He was a volunteer Stühoc prisoner, hoping to take a shot at Hroth.

  Whether he lived or died; whether he succeeded or failed – all of this would be over by the end of the day. The thought made him shiver.

  He didn’t know how long he waited before someone opened his cell door. He knew it hadn’t been more than an hour. The light from the early morning sun blinded Julian, but eventually he could see the outline of a figure standing in the doorway. Behind the figure were two larger Stühocs that Julian guessed were Leapers.

  “I’m Gilrod. My master was intrigued by the name you gave us. He did not want to wait any longer to speak with you,” the gravelly Stühoc said.

  “Anithistor?” Julian asked.

  “You don’t get to ask questions. Get up.”

  Julian did as he was told, knowing that he could probably take this scrawny creature, but the Leapers would be a different matter. With a sword, Julian felt confident. But without a weapon, he wouldn’t last very long.

  The two lizard-like Leapers walked on both sides of Julian, obscuring his view from the windows
outside. The smaller Stühoc remained a few paces ahead of them. Julian couldn’t help but wonder if the Human and Erellen armies had made an appearance yet. He thought, surely, that he would be able to hear the battle outside, but either it had not yet started, or this part of the fortress was too far from it.

  He followed Gilrod up a long and winding stairwell that seemed to climb for miles. This must have been the tallest pinnacle of the Stühoc structure. The stairs ended at a large wooden door. Julian noticed, with some surprise, that the door looked new. Either that or it hadn’t been used very much. Gilrod looked to the Leaper on his right and motioned for the creature to open the door.

  The Leaper stepped forward and stuck out one of its long, sharp claws, inserting it into the door’s keyhole. It turned its finger and unlocked the door. As Gilrod shoved the door open, the Leaper to Julian’s left shoved him forward into the room.

  The tower room was very large and round in shape. It was completely empty, save for the creatures that stood in it. There were several large windows across from Julian, and next to one of them was a figure with his back to them and a personal Leaper guard next to him.

  Julian couldn’t see his face when the figure turned, but could only see darkness under the creature’s hood.

  “Are you Hroth?” Julian asked.

  The hooded Stühoc said nothing as both Leapers placed their large hands on Julian and shoved him to his knees. The ominous creature moving toward him reached out with two long, gray hands and grabbed the sides of Julian’s head.

  He instantly felt the assault on his brain, as though the creature was forcing his way in.

  The first attack felt like someone was calling out his name. He knew it was coming from the one that held his head, but was it that easy for Julian to let him in? Maybe that’s what he had to do.

  I am Hroth, Julian heard him voice in his mind. Your mind is easy to break into, I see.

  “I’m not resisting you,” Julian said aloud.

  Speak to me with your mind, Hroth instructed.

  I’m not resisting you.

  Why does King Julian Hobbes request my presence?

  I am here freely, Julian thought. You do not need to use your mind on me.

  Hroth released Julian’s head and stepped away from him. Julian was able to catch himself when he fell to the ground. He looked up and could see that the Leapers and Gilrod were still in the room, but had taken their posts next to the door.

  The brief thought went through his head that Hroth could now read him, and that his thoughts would have to be guarded. No part of his plan could be revealed.

  But Hroth looked distracted as though he was communicating with others at the same time. He may have had the ability to read minds and communicate supernaturally, but Julian suspected he could not do it with multiple beings at once. He was probably talking to the Sleepers or Anithistor. Julian knew he had to keep his mind as clear as possible. He didn’t want to give any secrets or true intentions away.

  After a moment, Hroth looked in Julian’s direction. What do you want then, Julian? No Human has ever come to me freely.

  You are Hroth, Julian thought to him. You are the Possessor.

  Hroth waited.

  You may not believe me, but I want to be possessed by you.

  You lie.

  Julian shook his head and stood from the ground. You know what I have done. You know that I am beyond the redemption of my people, so I want to offer you myself.

  I know that you want us all dead.

  Of course I do, Julian thought. Nothing would please me more than to kill you right now, but I know that’s not a possibility. I know the moment I step forward, your Leaper guards will shove their claws through my chest and kill me.

  So your alternative is to be possessed?

  You don’t want me?

  Don’t misunderstand me, Hroth thought, beginning to pace the stone floor. Possession of the king will be a great tool to have, and I will possess you, don’t worry. I’m just perplexed as to why you are here willingly.

  Because I have one condition.

  Hroth stopped pacing and faced Julian.

  I want you to erase my memory. I will serve you if you will help me forget everything about my life here in Marenon.

  If you forget everything, then you will be useless. Your status is what makes you valuable. Losing your memory would erase your status.

  So, there is no way? Julian wondered.

  Not if you are to be useful to us, Hroth claimed. But I assure you, once you are fully mine, you won’t care about your past life. You won’t feel the guilt of killing your brother; the guilt of letting Daniel die; the wrongful execution of three Dunarian council members. You will use these memories to fuel your drive to make Marenon a better place.

  Your goal is to make Marenon better?

  Of course. And you can start that process by destroying those that oppose you.

  Julian couldn’t lie to himself. The loss of guilt would be a welcome feeling. But he knew he couldn’t allow himself to think that way.

  You doubt, Hroth said. Your thoughts show me that you have no real intentions of becoming a servant of Anithistor. But I know you no longer want the weight of shame on your shoulders. You know that I can make that go away forever.

  That’s all I want.

  No. That’s not all you want. You want to kill me. You wish you could get your hands around my throat and destroy me. You want me dead because you think that will render the Sleepers useless. Though you are right in that assumption, you will never come near me. You won’t touch me and Silas will die. Anithistor and Damon will see to that.

  Doubt started to creep up on Julian. He suddenly wasn’t so sure this had been the best plan of action.

  You have no intentions of becoming a Sleeper, Hroth told him, but you have foolishly stepped into my tower. I will possess you, but not today. It is a long and grueling process.

  Hroth stood at the window and watched the morning horizon. Your armies have arrived. This battle will truly be epic.

  Hroth froze for a moment when an intriguing thought seemed to catch his attention.

  Perhaps the fight wasn’t as fair as previously thought, Hroth told Julian. Part of your army is unseen, just below the surface of our Pyramid. He turned to Julian. Somehow you got the Anwyns to come after us as well.

  There was no hiding the anger on Julian’s face. How could he have been so foolish? It was impossible to hide any thought from Hroth. He should have known better.

  It seems that having you here has proven useful already. You have been just as valuable without being possessed. If you will excuse me, I must tell Marcus to move the Pyramid and be ready for an attack from underground. He turned back to the window and stood in silence.

  Julian was left standing there like a fool. He had not imagined that Hroth would have been able to break through so easily, but there he was, stealing the very knowledge that had been hidden from the Stühocs. It seemed as though every attempt Julian made to help in the cause against the Stühocs came back to bite him and those he was trying to help.

  I have no more use for you today, Hroth told him. He looked at Julian then the guards, and they grabbed Julian to take him away.

  “Let me stay!” Julian called out. “I can help you!”

  We both know you aren’t here to help me. Don’t be a fool.

  The door slammed shut behind them as Gilrod led Julian and the two Leapers down the spiraling stairs.

  They walked through the same hallway as before and Julian could see the cell that would hold him for a very long time if he didn’t do something now.

  Julian was no master of magic by any means, but he had found it useful on occasion. It would probably take more of his energy than he wanted, but it was now or never. He stopped in his tracks and the two Leapers snarled in anger. With deep concentration, Julian closed his eyes and sent out bolts of electricity from his hands, frying the Stühocs in front of him.

  Gilrod fell to the gro
und immediately, but the Leapers stood and reared back in pain. Julian reached for the arm of one and shoved its long claws into the neck of the other. He then crossed over to Gilrod and yanked the sword from his belt.

  He quickly stabbed the other Leaper through the heart repeatedly until he could sense no more life. He looked at Gilrod on the ground and could see the Stühoc still breathing.

  This was war.

  Julian stood over him, gripping the sword tightly. Gilrod opened his eyes to see the angered Human king.

  “The Stühoc reign of terror ends today,” Julian said.

  “Human filth,” was the last thing Gilrod spoke before Julian sent the jagged blade through his throat.

  Julian marched past the dead bodies to the window-filled hallway.

  He stopped and looked out over Mudavé. The Erellens and Humans were ready, lined up for the charge. He glanced to his right and could see the Pyramid moving away from the city center. The Stühocs now knew about the plan for the Anwyns to attack from underground. But that was all they would know.

  Julian turned to go up the spiral stairs but stopped in his tracks when he heard the terrible screeches from the other side of the fortress. Hroth must have sensed danger, and called for more Leapers to come after Julian. He gripped the sword tightly, anticipating a long fight ahead of him.

  He smiled. If Hroth was calling more Leapers, that meant he was scared.

  As he should be, Julian thought.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Each of them had a job to do, but none of them knew exactly how it would play out. Silas sat high on a white horse that had been given to him by Jiaros.

  “It is a royal steed,” Jiaros had told him. “I would be honored if you rode him into battle with us.”

  Silas had accepted it with humble gratitude. Kaden later told him that such a gesture shouldn’t be taken lightly. It meant that the Erellens were behind their Meshulan without reservation.

  Personally, Silas preferred to ride Skarret, but he feared the sarians wouldn’t stay in flight for long, as they were easy targets for Stühoc archers. But they would be near if needed.