The Aduramis Chronicles: Volumes 1-3: The Definitive Collection

by Harrison Davies

  ‘You mean what you have stolen,’ Reena corrected.

  ‘I have no shame in that, young woman. I do not take for profit. I steal because the King neglects his people in the lower city. What you see here is mostly food liberated from the rich. It is distributed to the hungry and needy.’

  ‘Highly unusual behaviour for a pirate,’ Draken sniffed.

  ‘The only people to have ever shown me kindness were the lower city-folk. I owe them a debt of gratitude. Three years ago I was involved in an altercation with the guards of the royal household. I managed to escape, and the good people you are about to meet took me in and fed and watered me despite their lack of resources. They healed my wounds and brought me back from the brink of death. I saw how Hantestum let this city crumble, how he sat idly by and watched his people die. This is my way of returning the kindness,’ Hur’al smiled.

  ‘Very noble of you brother,’ Laliala said, clapping Hur’al on the back. ‘This city is indeed divided between the rich and the poor, and I assure you Hantestum will pay for his crimes, possessed or not. We will bring balance once more to this city, though, we must discuss our current quest.’

  ‘Before we do, you must have your wounds tended to,’ Hur’al raised his fingers to his mouth and whistled. Seemingly from nowhere, four darkly dressed women descended on them and politely dipped their heads.

  ‘My Lord,’ said the first, ‘what is it you require?’

  ‘I need you to take my injured friends here and see to their wounds,’ Hur’al replied, indicating Draken and his sister.

  ‘Very well,’ the woman smiled broadly. She held Draken’s arm to support him, and her companion did the same. Menin, likewise, found herself supported, and the duo found themselves escorted away into the darkness of the chamber. Zaruun, the ever faithful, shadowed them at a discreet distance.

  ‘Where are they taking them?’ asked Jericho.

  ‘Don’t worry; they’ll be safe. It is my sister after all. ‘Now ... what to do with the rest of you?’

  ‘My troops are no doubt hungry, and I’m sure the King’s men will have commandeered our vessel with its supplies.’

  ‘Then your people shall eat and rest here while we discuss what it is you require of me.’

  Hur’al snapped his fingers, and a short, muscular man approached. He had a cheery look about him, and despite the coldness of the room, was naked from the waist up.

  ‘Can I help you my Lord?’ the stranger asked.

  ‘Teneel, please take the General’s men and feed and water them.’

  As before, Hur’al received a warm smile, and Teneel skipped away, inviting all who could hear to join him for food and rest. Those who were unsure if they were to follow the instruction looked to Jericho who nodded approval.

  ‘Why do they call you Lord?’ Coinin asked Hur’al.

  Hur’al laughed. ‘It’s a joke because I borrowed Lord Berniss’s ship to run a cargo of spice to The New World and I didn’t return it,’ he replied.

  ‘What happened to it?’

  ‘I lost it to a pirate in a game of cards. I never was very good at games of chance,’ he said.

  ‘That’s good news indeed considering I’m going to ask you to play the biggest game of chance of your life.’

  ‘I have a feeling I’m not going to like this.’

  ‘Are we safe to talk?’ Coinin asked.

  ‘Indeed we are.’

  ‘You understand that what we say today must not be said to anyone?’

  Hur’al looked serious and nodded silently.

  ‘Good,’ said Jericho. ‘What can you tell me about travelling the southern seas?’

  Hur’al raised an eyebrow. ‘What do you wish to know?’

  ‘Is it possible in the height of winter?’

  ‘You’re not serious. Please tell me you don’t want to traverse the southern ice fields.’

  ‘I do, and you’re the Captain I wish to lead us on that journey,’ Jericho replied.

  Hur’al looked ill. He rubbed the back of his neck and shook his head. ‘Only the most foolhardy would venture that way at this time of year.’ He paused for a moment considering his options as a man with a heavy burden upon his shoulders. ‘I guess I must be a reckless fool then. If it was any other person asking I would say no, but as it’s my sister, how can I refuse? It will cost you, though,’ he relented.

  ‘I’d expect nothing less,’ said Jericho plainly. ‘What is your price?’

  Hur’al sucked in a deep breath. He had never been asked to name his price, and this was a moment dreams are made of. ‘I need to fund the cost of a new ship; that’s my price,’ he replied.

  ‘You have a deal. Get us safely to the destination of my choosing and the gold is yours,’ said Coinin without hesitation.

  ‘Surely this is a decision for the Archmage?’ Jericho enquired.

  ‘Nothing is more important than our quest, and none of this will matter if we don’t succeed.’

  ‘I suppose you are correct. Even Laliala would approve,’ said Jericho humbly.

  ‘So what now?’ asked Coinin.

  ‘First, we eat,’ Hur’al told him. ‘And then we discuss your plans. If I am happy, I will aid you.’

  ❖

  The meal was bland although nutritious. Coinin had grown so used to temple food that he had almost forgotten how the food had tasted at his uncle’s home. A porridge-like substance was sloshed into a wooden bowl and set before him. He ate it hungrily and coughed in surprise at the sour taste.

  Once their wounds were dressed, Menin and Draken both appeared to be considerably more comfortable as they sat around a makeshift table made from rough wooden crates. Hur’al had laid on wine, except Menin had forbidden those in attendance to drink any more than one goblet. She reasoned that they needed to be alert to danger.

  Following the meal, Hur’al had cleared out the room of all non-essential persons, and with some trepidation, sat down to hear the great plan The Brotherhood had in store for him.

  Jericho explained that they needed safe passage to an unknown island in the middle of the southern ocean, and with no certain directions or distance, it was understandable that Hur’al thought him crazy.

  ‘You must have some deep rooted faith if you believe you can pull this off,’ he said, bemused. ‘Faith is what holds us to our course, binds us, and keeps us strong,’ said Menin and stood. She rounded the makeshift table and grasped Hur’al by the shoulders. ‘Now, brother,’ she began, ‘will you help us or not?’

  Hur’al tilted his head to look at her and sighed. ‘Fine, but the deal was enough gold to commission a new ship build,’ he replied.

  Menin flashed a frown at Coinin, who looked down quickly, keen not to look at her stare. ‘It seems, then, that we have a deal.’ She patted her brother on the shoulders to seal their pact.

  She left Jericho and Hur’al to finalise their plans and requested Coinin to join her out of earshot of the others.

  Coinin looked guilty. ‘I’m sorry about the gold—’

  ‘What are you blithering on about? We got off lightly. He would likely have asked for ten times the amount of anyone else. He must like you,’ she smiled. ‘You did well.’

  Coinin laughed and then looked serious. ‘Are we indeed crazy to attempt this as Hur’al maintains?’

  ‘There’s no one else who can or will do this. And a little craziness never hurt anyone; it brings about good ideas … or bad ones,’ she chuckled.

  ‘One step closer to Marrok,’ Coinin murmured.

  Menin wrapped an arm around him and gave a motherly squeeze. ‘I envy you,’ she whispered, ‘following your heart on a grand adventure.’

  ‘Are you two quite finished over there?’ Jericho called from across the room.

  Coinin broke away from Menin, momentarily embarrassed at their embrace. ‘Yes, what is it?’ he asked.

  Jericho approached from the gloom. ‘We have a plan,’ he grinned.

  ‘That was quick,’ said Coinin.

  J
ericho smiled. ‘Most of it is common sense really.’

  ‘Excellent work,’ Menin praised cheerfully. ‘So what is it?’

  ‘Hur’al has already shown us the value of the sewer tunnel systems. Unfortunately, they no longer lead out of the city; those tunnels were destroyed some time ago. They do exit in the lower city, though we will have to move above ground to get close enough to make a dash for the exit. However, we will need a distraction to attract the gate guards from their posts. Hur’al has agreed that a dozen of his men will provide the necessary distraction we need,’ Jericho began. ‘Once we have exited the city, we will split into two teams. Hur’al says that Hantestum has placed our boat under guard. Team one will liberate our vessel so that you, Laliala, can return to the sanctuary.’

  ‘That will not be necessary. I will port directly to the temple,’ Menin responded flatly.

  Coinin looked at her wide-eyed. ‘That far?’ he asked, amazed at her range of abilities.

  ‘When you’ve studied the magical arts for as long as I have, you quickly learn your limitations and soon discover the extent to which you can bend the rules that bind the universe,’ Menin replied with a steady stare.

  ‘Are you sure you are up to it, with your injuries?’ Jericho asked.

  ‘While it is true I am weakened, I think I should be able to manage this without too much trouble.’

  ‘Once the city is behind us, we will make all haste to a place of safety, and then when the coast is clear, we will head for Hur’al’s ship, which he says is anchored beyond the bay. It has been disguised as a Kar Province ship to prevent the King seizing it. We shall then set sail for the island. My only concern is the lack of provisions,’ Jericho finished.

  ‘Never fear, General, we have plenty here for all. I shall order my men to take what we need before the city gates are closed for the night. They will dress as merchants and should pass the guard unhindered,’ Hur’al said after joining them.

  ‘What time do the rest of us leave?’ Coinin asked, determined to head out immediately.

  ‘The guard will be most inactive at midnight,’ Hur’al responded.

  ‘So what of the distraction you mentioned?’

  ‘That’s where my genius shines through. The guards have become accustomed to the frequent outbreaks of violence in the city so ignore most of what occurs. What they can’t ignore is the destruction of the King’s face. My men will topple the statues nearest the main city exit. The guards should investigate, and that will leave us free to open the gate and effect our escape.’

  ‘What of your men? Surely the guards will arrest them?’ Coinin asked with concern.

  ‘You don’t need to worry about them; they know the city better than the guards ever will. They will be able to disappear below ground in a flash,’ Hur’al reassured.

  Jericho looked stern. ‘For this to work, we will need to inform the rest of the troops.’

  Hur’al nodded. ‘It is six hours till midnight; we should rest until then.’

  ‘How can you tell the time down here?’ Coinin asked.

  Hur’al raised both his eyes and a digit to the roof. ‘Can you hear that?’ he asked.

  They listened intently and caught the faint reverberation of a bell filtering through the tunnel.

  ‘The bell?’ Jericho enquired.

  ‘Yes, it signals the change of the guard. It tolls at six in the evening every day and at no other time.’

  Coinin excused himself and searched out Aniol. He found her snuggled up to Axl who slept, making the most of his thick woollen cloak to keep warm. She stood as Coinin approached, but he waved at her to remain seated. He sat on the floor next to her and wrapped his own cloak about him, feeling the cold for the first time since they had entered the tunnel system.

  ‘How are you Aniol? Ready for an adventure?’ Coinin asked.

  ‘I am indeed.’ She nodded to the sleeping Axl. ‘I’m not so sure about Axl though. He’s like a fish out of water.’

  ‘Aren’t we all?’ Coinin said. ‘None of us could have prepared for this.’

  ‘Perhaps you should get some rest, Sir,’ Aniol suggested. ‘You look tired.’

  ‘I feel tired,’ he said and lay down. He curled into the foetal position and within moments, drifted to sleep.

  ❖

  Darkness surrounded Marrok, and cold water dripped from a small hole in the ironwork above him. He had been placed inside an iron-framed box. A small slit in one side of the container permitted him a view. He saw that several hooded figures surrounded a thick bloodstained table. Upon it, an unfortunate pirate lay dead. Marrok had tolerated ten minutes of screams and pleas for mercy from the man as he endured torturous surgery to try to save his life.

  Minutes beforehand he had heard a loud crash from somewhere outside, like that of a forest of trees falling at once. The room shook and reverberated with the noise. Dust penetrated his peephole and covered him. It made him cough and gasp for breath. He heard his captor’s whisper of a collision between the pirate ship Blackheart and a second vessel. By all accounts, the Blackheart remained intact, though the other ship had suffered considerable damage.

  Coinin’s dream shifted, turning misty at first, then refocused on his brother once more.

  Marrok stood in the middle of a circular room and blinked at a beam of sun cascading through a tear in the tower wall. He could smell the sea and taste the salt on his lips.

  Two burly guards escorted him from the space and down three turns of a spiral staircase. They stopped at a plain door with dragon motifs surrounding the frame. The guard to his left knocked three times on the solid wooden door, and without hesitation, it was opened from the other side. A blast of cold air added to his discomfort. Despite this, he basked in the glory of being outside for the first time in months.

  He was pushed forward ahead of his guard, and a wand tip dug into his back. He turned to glare at the man.

  ‘Is there a problem?’ the guard growled.

  Marrok looked at him with disgust and walked ahead, preferring to remain silent.

  He was taken to a meeting room that held a single large wooden table, an ellipse of highly polished oak. There was a cutout that led to a central circle, to allow a speaker to stand within and address those sat at the table. The circumference held thirteen highly decorated chairs, and each represented an individual dragon. The walls were draped in elegant red and gold standards emblazoned with the symbol of the dragon, thirteen in all. Each was different, one for each of the wizards in attendance. The central most standard was by far the largest and sported the shape of a giant black dragon ready to pounce.

  He was shown to the cutout within the centre of the grand table and was left to stand there before the gaze of thirteen pairs of eyes. All colours and intensities stared down at him. At the head of the table ensconced in a chair larger than the rest sat Lordich Secracar. His long beard of grey snaked its way to the floor. A gnarled hand that held several bejewelled rings grasped the top of a wooden staff, inlaid with a thin band of gold that wound its way down the shaft and finished in a golden dragon claw.

  ‘Welcome Marrok,’ said Lordich in a voice that boomed. ‘This, gentlemen, is the one that will lead us to victory over the dogs of Soliath Wulf.’ He stood and slowly traversed the table, addressing each of the assembled wizards.

  The twelve dark wizards sat at the table laughed uproariously at Lordich’s reference to the founder of The Brotherhood of The Wulf.

  ‘We have waited too long for our right to rule over the peoples of this planet. For decades we have watched The Order of The Wulf gain wealth and power, and I say no more. We will strike them down and take our rightful place as the religious dominance on this planet. We will crush and put an end the worship of false gods these elves and dwarves have taken upon themselves to enjoy,’ said Lordich passionately.

  Marrok stood and shivered in the cold meeting hall, his bare feet numb from the cold stone floor. Even a fireplace that blazed in the corner of the room failed to wa
rm his cold bones. He was certain that some of the chill came from Lordich’s speech, and he knew he had to escape to warn Coinin.

  That would be easier said than done, he thought, but Lordich interrupted his thoughts with a fresh diatribe.

  ‘How, you ask, will I accomplish this task?’ Lordich asked rhetorically. ‘Simple. I will control the mind of Marrok, and I will use him as a pawn to create a network of forces loyal to him, and then when the time is right, we will strike at the heart of The Brotherhood and bring it to its knees from within.’

  A murmur of approval from the Dragon Brotherhood circled the room, followed by rapturous applause.

  ‘I will never betray my brother,’ Marrok spat angrily.

  ‘It speaks,’ Lordich laughed. He circled the table quickly and lurched along the cutout until his heavily scarred face was millimetres from Marrok’s. ‘You look scared young Marrok. And so you should. I am about to show you the true power of the dragon heart.’

  Marrok lunged for Lordich, except the dark wizard had been ready for him and vanished with a rush of air. Marrok fell to his face, to the sound of unrestrained laughter. He picked himself up and looked about him for the wizard. A tap on his shoulder made him whirl around.

  ‘Wrong again.’ Lordich’s laughter echoed around the room.

  ‘Face me like a man,’ Marrok yelled into the air.

  Lordich chuckled with mirthlessly and reappeared in his chair. He raised a hand and pointed to Marrok. ‘Bind him and bring the book,’ he demanded.

  Strong hands gripped Marrok tightly, and he felt his arms tied with stout rope. He tried to shake off his captors to no avail and served only to add to the mirth in the room.

  A female guard carried a large black leather-bound book into the chamber and handed it to Lordich, who stroked its cover delicately, a look of glee on his face. He held the book aloft, and his twelve followers instantly stood and then knelt in front of their seats in reverence.

  ‘The Book of The Dragon,’ Lordich announced, ‘holds our most sacred texts, secrets and spells. In this volume, there is one particular spell that I have found to be very useful since I came across it many moons ago. Can you think what that spell is Marrok?’