The Redemption, Volume 1

by Clyde B Northrup

  “Get Blakstar!” Tevvy exclaimed as he finished drawing the circle. “We’ll need the Waters!” Tevvy lifted the sword to form the arch even as Thal ran toward the room where he and the kortexi had been sleeping.

  “Hurry!” Rokwolf shouted as Klaybear stood and lifted the staff, breaking the connection. Klare had already come around the table and was nearing the place where Tevvy was finishing the arch.

  “Catch, Klare!” Klaybear said as he started to move, seeing that she would reach the archway first.

  Klare caught breath-giver and stepped into the shimmering arch. Thal came out of the room with Blakstar right behind him, buckling on his belt and carrying his boots folded over one arm. Klaybear and Thal nearly collided in their rush to get to the archway; they stepped through, followed by Blakstar, who was followed by Tevvy. The awemi lifted the sword and handed it back to the kortexi, but he did not take it. The four of them stood still, around the end of the bed, all eyes fixed on Klare, who was holding an empty bottle, and the tears running freely down her face told them what the bottle had contained: a sleeping potion. Sutugno lay motionless on the bed, sleeping peacefully to their eyes, looking happier than she had been.

  “Is she dead?” Klaybear asked in a whisper.

  Klare answered by turning and holding a green-glowing breath-giver over Sutugno’s form, moving it up and down and pouring healing energy into the inert form; Tevvy could see beads of sweat forming on Klare’s forehead. She released the forces she handled and looked back at the wethem. “If she were alive, she should be leaping out of bed right now, for all the energy I have poured into her.” Tears filled her eyes and ran down her cheeks again. “I cannot heal her,” she sobbed, handing the staff back to her husband. “You are stronger, and this is the most powerful kailu artifact ever created: isn’t there something you can do?” she implored.

  Tevvy saw a look of hard resolve come into Klaybear’s eyes. “There must be,” he said, “this is, after all, breath-giver,” he added, pushing back his sleeves.

  “Wait!” Thal said suddenly, and all turned to look at him. “I just realized something,” slapping his own forehead. “Why didn’t I think of it before?” he asked himself. “Breath-giver alone is not enough: if you try it, you will turn her into a nekerpu, and you will set your feet on the path to becoming a purgle yourself.”

  They were all still looking at him. “Are you certain?” Klaybear asked.

  Thal nodded and pointed to the staff. “Breath-giver,” he said, then pointed to Blakstar’s sword, “plus will-giver,” then to himself, “plus thought-giver, together, will give back life, but we are missing Melbarth’s rod, which is thought-giver.”

  “I thought we did not know the rod’s name,” Klare said.

  “All that happened today has put it out of my mind,” Thal replied, “but recall the statues I told you about, the ones will-giver raised out of the ground in Karble, the statue of me held Melbarth’s rod, and the name was inscribed on it.”

  The door burst open, and Rokwolf hurled into the room, took one look at the form on the bed, saw the empty bottle, and howled. “NO!” He pushed the others out of the way and lay down on the bed, taking her still form into his arms. He put his face next to hers and lay there for a few moments; only a single sob escaped his lips, but tears flowed freely from his eyes. He kissed her once and got up.

  “Let’s go,” Rokwolf said in a bleak voice.

  “Where did they take her?” Tevvy asked.

  “Into the swamp, along with all the rest of your father’s students.”

  “To feed the morgle,” Tevvy added, anger burning inside, making his face hot. Tevvy pushed the kortexi’s sword into his hand and turned to go.

  Rokwolf pushed past the others.

  “Have the two of you lost your minds?” Klare asked. “If you will wait until tomorrow, Delgart will be leading the fabled Seventh Legion into the Mariskal to assault Morokolu: wouldn’t it be better to have an elite seklesi legion supporting you?”

  “He will find us already there,” Rokwolf replied coldly, starting to turn away.

  “If you go alone, without help, you will be captured!” Klare exclaimed.

  “Then I hope that you will arrive in time to rescue us,” Rokwolf said, and the two of them walked out of the room, closing the door behind them.

  Chapter 14

  Love–a foolish sentiment! One that the wethem and other races surround with a silly mystique and many foolish rituals, especially when one considers that its source is a biological urge to propagate the species. But we can use these silly sentiments and foolish rituals to manipulate our enemies into doing many things that they would not otherwise do, things that will benefit the Great Lord’s cause. . . .

  from the Journal of Motodu, recovered by the Chosen in the Great Year

  Translated by Hierarch Thalamar

  After sliding his sword into its sheath with a steely hiss, Blakstar sat on the end of the bed to pull on his boots; Klare sank onto her knees next to the bed, resting her head and arms on the pillow next to her friend’s unmoving form and beginning to sob softly. Klaybear sat on the bed beside her, one leg bent on the bed in front of him so that he could face Thal, Blakstar, and the young awemi, while resting one arm over Klare’s shoulders, breath-giver rested across his leg in front of him.

  Thal turned to Daybor, who stood looking at the closed door. “I’m Thal,” the white maghi said, “this is Blakstar, and Rokwolf’s twin brother, Klaybear, his wife Klare, who was Sutugno’s best friend,” he went on, pointing to each in turn, and each nodded, except for Klare, who continued to sob softly into her arms.

  Daybor turned when Thal spoke his name. “I’m Daybor,” he replied, “Elanor’s younger brother; my sister is Tevvy’s intended,” he added by way of explanation, which caused Klare to raise her tear-stained face, “and they were going to be married in three days by Tevvy’s father, which is no longer possible,” Daybor ended in a hollow voice.

  “Why not?” Thal asked.

  “Because,” Daybor stammered, voice choked with emotion, “they’ve killed his father and mother, and taken my sister!” He tried to rub the tears from his eyes, tried to be angry about what had happened to keep from crying, but he could not hold back the sobs that wracked his small frame.

  Klare was on her feet and moving to him, kneeling, and taking him into her arms like the small child he appeared to be. She tried to soothe him for a time, but his sobbing increased, so she turned her head to the kortexi who was seated nearby. “The Waters,” she whispered.

  Blakstar slid off the bed onto one knee next to Klare and Daybor, taking the special flask from his belt and pulling the stopper out. “Take a drink of the Waters of Life, Daybor,” Blakstar said softly, “they will give you peace and healing in this difficult time.”

  Daybor sniffed and wiped his eyes, turning from Klare toward the kortexi who was surrounded by soft golden light. He drank two swallows from the flask and his face changed: his eyes widened, he smiled, and then his look became one of iron-hard resolve. He stood taller and straighter, and started to turn toward the door. “I will rescue Elanor myself!” he exclaimed.

  Blakstar put one hand on the awemi’s shoulder. “Peace,” he commanded, “the Waters are potent.”

  Daybor looked into Blakstar’s eyes, then turned and looked back at Klare and the others; he smiled at them. “I feel better now,” he said simply.

  Klare smiled at him. “Then maybe you can tell us what happened here, and what would cause our two companions to run off on their own?”

  “I think so,” Daybor replied, “although I do not know everything that has happened.”

  “That’s fine,” Thal said, “just tell us what you do know.”

  Daybor quickly recounted how Tevvy and Rokwolf had arrived early the previous morning and how Tevvy had slipped into his parents’ room secretly, their long discussion, and Rokwolf entering the room after Sutugno had arisen. He told them about Tevvy and Rokwolf leaving in the early
afternoon to visit the alchemist with the sample from Kilnar, and how they did not return when they should have.

  “Meekor was about to send someone to check on them when we were attacked by what we thought was the local Thieves’ Guild,” Daybor went on, “but they had extra help from wethem and monsters from the swamp.”

  “The altered wedaterem Delgart told us about,” Klaybear put in.

  Daybor shrugged. “Whatever they were, we were quickly overwhelmed,” Daybor continued. “I had come in here to see my sister, when we heard the noise in the hallway outside. Elanor and Sutugno shoved me in the wardrobe, telling me not to make a sound. That’s when they crashed in, taking Elanor and forcing Sutugno to drink that foul potion. When we searched later, it looked like most of us were captured and led into the swamp, very few were actually killed.”

  “How do you know?” Blakstar asked.

  “We found only a few bodies up here or on the main level,” Daybor replied. “Most of the bodies we found were of those Guild members who helped the wethem from the swamp: Rokwolf and I found them in the first room in the sewers. Rokwolf tracked the rest through our cellar and into the swamp; there is a tunnel leading from our cellar out of the city and into the Mariskal,” he added by way of explanation.

  “Why did Tevvy go back to the alchemist?” Klaybear asked.

  “And why were they delayed?” Thal added.

  “Rokwolf said that they were knocked unconscious while there,” Daybor replied.

  “And the alchemist, was he knocked out also?” Thal asked.

  Daybor nodded.

  Thal laughed. “Very clever,” he said, “have himself knocked out, delaying them further.”

  “Yes,” Blakstar nodded, “it was all about keeping them away from here until the attack and capture was complete.”

  “And why did Tevvy go back?” Klaybear asked again.

  “The empty bottle?” Thal suggested.

  Daybor nodded. “Tevvy recognized Presgrut’s–the alchemist’s–mark on the bottle.”

  “Left behind to further delay him,” Thal noted, “and to ensure that he went back and killed the alchemist, erasing their tracks for them. Also,” he went on, “they knew that, because she was sick, Rokwolf would remain here.”

  Klare drew breath sharply. “They were hoping that he would give her the sleeping potion,” she hissed. She looked up at Thal. “That’s horrible!”

  Thal nodded. “The morgle wanted to terrorize him before getting them both to run headlong into the swamp, into a trap.” Thal frowned, turning to look at Klaybear. “When we were talking about Rokwolf and Sutugno earlier, you both said that he was really unhappy with the arrangement, and yet, he behaved just now, as I would expect you, Klaybear, to act if that were Klare.” He looked back at Daybor. “Did something happen between them here, today, that changed his view of her?”

  Daybor’s brow wrinkled with thought, which looked strange on his child-like, round face. “Perhaps,” he said after a few moments. “When I first came to my sister’s room, Elanor was telling Sutugno that Tevvy, Meekor, and Rokwolf had spoken of the possibility of Meekor joining the two of them at the same time as Tevvy and Elanor, and Rokwolf was not too keen on the idea. When he returned, after she was ill, he sent me to get the healing supplies; as I re-entered the room carrying those items, his face looked angry, and I’m sure it was over something that she had said to him, and he covered it well by fiddling with the potions. After Tevvy and I returned from searching this level, when Tevvy found the bottle and was leaving to re-visit the alchemist, Rokwolf was lying on the bed with Sutugno held in his arms, and she was resting on his chest: something had changed between them, but what it was, I do not know.”

  They fell silent for a time; Thal rubbed his chin and began to pace the length of the bed, turned, and came back. He frowned at his companions, unable to make sense of what had happened.

  “There is a problem here,” Thal noted.

  “What do you mean?” Klaybear asked.

  “What they have done does not make sense,” Thal went on. “If the whole purpose was to get Tevvy and Rokwolf to go charging into to the swamp, then why take only one hostage, or for that matter, why take any hostage? Take both females hostage and ensure that both of the males try to rescue them, if you want both of them running into the swamp.” He paused for a moment. “Unless the intent was for only one of them, Tevvy, to come running into the swamp to rescue Elanor. Tevvy is captured and held; given that he is one of the chosen, the morgle knows that we will come and attempt to rescue him, so Tevvy becomes bait for a trap to catch the rest of us.”

  “But what you are suggesting,” Klaybear said, “is that the morgle did not intend for Rokwolf to go running into the trap, else he would have taken Sutugno rather than kill her.”

  Thal shook his head. “I am trying to explain what seems to me to be an anomaly in what has happened,” he clarified. “It makes more sense to me to take both or kill both, rather than kill one and take the other.”

  Blakstar frowned. “Maybe he is simply doing both,” he said, “to make sure that one of them charges into the swamp and is captured to bait his trap, although,” he shrugged, “taking Daybor’s sister and Tevvy’s intended is enough for me: I would go into the swamp to rescue Elanor.”

  “So would I,” Klaybear added.

  “So would any and all of us,” Thal said, “which is my point: there is no reason for him to take more bait, so why does he? What does he gain? Unless it is as Blakstar suggested, that he is simply covering all contingencies, and if that is true then he seems very unsure of himself, which is much different from his actions before.”

  “Shouldn’t you be going after them?” Daybor interrupted. “Stop them before they are captured?”

  Thal smiled at him. “You saw their reaction to Klare’s plea,” he noted, “I doubt that we could stop them, short of capturing them ourselves.”

  “If I know my twin,” Klaybear added, “he will make sure that we cannot follow them.”

  “I’m not sure that either of them is thinking all that clearly,” Blakstar noted.

  Klaybear nodded. “You might be right, my friend,” he said. “Why don’t we let Daybor show us where they went.”

  “Did you and Rokwolf find anything else while you were searching?” Thal asked.

  Daybor shook his head. “Not really,” he said, “but wait, Rokwolf did mention that he noticed something odd on the door to one of the storerooms off the main kitchen, but we never made it back to check it out before . . . , well, you know.”

  Thal nodded. “Is it on the way?” he asked.

  Daybor shrugged. “It can be,” he said, “it’s only a slight side-trip.”

  Daybor led Thal and the others down to the main kitchen and the door to the storage room next to one of the large ovens. He squatted in front of the polished door and ran his fingers over the marks on the bottom of the polished door.

  “What is it?” Blakstar asked, squatting beside him.

  Daybor pointed. “Rokwolf said he found new scratches in the door, and when we learned that the swamp wedaterem had been here, he thought that these scratches might have been made by the clawed foot of one of the beasts.”

  “So at least one of them, probably more,” Blakstar noted, “has been through this door.” Blakstar stood and motioned Daybor to move behind him; he drew his sword and nodded to the others, who brandished staff and rod. He threw the bolt open, then crashed through the door; behind him, Thal directed a magluku into the room, illuminating all corners of the square room.

  “Is this room supposed to have another door?” Blakstar asked.

  Daybor looked around the kortexi’s large leg. “No, it’s a store . . . ,” he started to say, then gasped. The wall to their immediate left, the wall between the school’s inn and the Green Beast next door, had a huge hole blasted in it: broken shelves and their former contents, along with broken bricks and pieces of dried mortar, were strewn across the floor to their right.
On the floor in front of them were the tracks of many bare and booted feet crossing and re-crossing the dust from the hole blasted through the wall.

  “It’s a tavern, isn’t it?” Thal whispered to Daybor.

  “Yes,” Daybor replied.

  “Shouldn’t it still be open and doing a rousing business?” Thal asked.

  “You would think so,” Daybor replied, “since it also has a brothel upstairs, which never closes. Why?”

  “I don’t hear a sound coming through that hole,” Blakstar replied.

  Daybor slipped past Blakstar’s leg, crouched next to the opening, and peered inside. After a moment, he looked back at the others and shook his head. “Nobody,” he mouthed.

  Blakstar moved up beside him, also looking carefully into the space beyond the door. Thal exchanged glances with Klaybear, and Klare, then his eyes grew unfocused as he probed the inn with Klaybear’s aid and Klare guarding them both. By the time Daybor and Blakstar had slipped into this large storage room, filled with barrels and racks containing dusty bottles, Thal, Klaybear, and Klare walked into the room behind them.

  “You can relax,” Thal said, “there is no one here.”

  “How do you know?” Daybor asked.

  “Mental sweep?” Blakstar asked, realizing at once what they had done.

  Thal nodded. “The place is devoid of anyone.”

  Thal’s magluku followed him into the rectangular room that, besides the stacked barrels and racks, only contained two doors, next to each other in the middle of the wall to their left, and a third door at the far end of the wall to their right. Daybor moved forward to the far right door, which led into the tavern’s main room; the door was standing open.

  “It’s odd that they all left at once,” Klare noted, “makes me think that they were not here to sell wine and ale.”

  “They weren’t,” Thal said. “They were collecting food for the morgle.”

  Klare turned pale, putting her hands over her stomach; she looked hastily around for someplace to retch.