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

by Harrison Davies

  Marrok looked at Lordich with contempt, shrugged that he did not know, and then looked away.

  ‘You haven’t been paying attention boy. I said not moments ago that I intend to use mind control. Therefore the spell I found most useful must be one to control the mind, would it not?’

  ‘If you say so,’ Marrok replied. ‘If you’re going to do this Lordich, then do it now. But know this, I’ll fight you with every ounce of strength I have left till you either succeed or I die in the attempt.’

  Lordich pursed his lips and gritted his teeth angrily for just a moment. Marrok was taking all the fun out of his show. His father had always said: “Nobody loves a poor showing. Give the crowd what they want”. ‘A very rousing speech I’m sure. Sadly it was a waste of breath., You will succumb; they all do in the end.’

  Without warning, Lordich ordered his guard to tie thick ropes around Marrok’s wrists and then raise him three feet off the ground from the rafters. The pain bit into every one of Marrok’s upper body muscles, and tears involuntarily welled in his eyes.

  Pleased with the results, Lordich opened the black book and searched out the spell he needed to turn Marrok. He memorised the words, held his free hand over Marrok’s chest, and recited the spell with every ounce of energy he could muster. ‘Changaro, mindo, ecomo, enslavato.’

  The words were strange and unfamiliar to Marrok who screamed in agony. It felt like invisible daggers had penetrated his skull and dug into his brain. Lordich repeated the words with even more vigour, and Marrok cried out in such pain, the like of which he had never felt before.

  ❖

  Coinin woke from his sleep with a start. ‘Marrok!’ he called out breathlessly.

  Aniol jumped up at his cry, ready for action. She crossed to Coinin and then knelt beside him. ‘What’s the matter?’ she asked and noted the sweat dripping from his brow.

  ‘It’s Marrok, he’s alive, but he’s in pain,’ Coinin spluttered, overcome with emotion.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I’ve just seen him in a vision; he’s alive!’

  Aniol knew of his visions and smiled. ‘That’s great news. Though you said he’s in pain?’

  ‘It felt like he was being tortured.’ Months of not knowing Marrok’s fate had taken their toll, and a new set of emotions overtook him. He held his head in his hands and cried tears of both sadness and joy. For the first time in a long time, he had proof Marrok was alive. Although to see him in pain, for just that fleeting moment, wrenched at his own heart. Aniol did her best to comfort him, but he would not entertain her.

  Coinin would not be able to sleep now, and anyway, an idea had suddenly crossed his mind, so he excused himself and left Aniol looking worried.

  He had the realisation that he needed to ask Draken a question, and so he scouted around and found him laid over the top of a crate on the other side of the domed space, his legs dangling over the side.

  ‘Uncle?’ he said and shook Draken’s leg. ‘I have a question for you.’

  Draken sat up and yawned lazily. ‘Yes, what is it?’

  ‘Did Lordich have any friends other than those in The Brotherhood?’

  ‘You have to ask me this now?’ Draken yawned again. ‘I was sleeping.’

  ‘Yes, so was I. This is important,’ Coinin said impatiently.

  ‘Well, it’s an odd question. Why would you want to know that?’

  ‘Lordich has people helping him, even hiding him. I need to learn all there is to know about him if I am to defeat him.’

  ‘Hmm,’ Draken exhaled. ‘Give me a moment to think.’ He rubbed his chin and thought back to his younger days, his eyes glazing over.

  ❖

  ‘Over here Lordich,’ a youthful Draken called and beckoned to his younger friend.

  Lordich had the look of a man with a purpose about him and appeared to be distracted as he made his way to the table that Draken had secured for them. Firm friends, Draken, Lordich, Perindar, and Jericho, had agreed to meet at a local inn, The Foxy Stout, in the town of Gan’il. It was a regular haunt for Order of The Wulf soldiers on leave.

  The quartet had secured seven days leave. Lordich and Draken wanted to travel alone to one of the small islands off the shore of Gan’il, where they would camp and enjoy the solitude and peace it offered. Jericho and Perindar objected that the two wished to spend their leave in each others company and promptly invited themselves along. They too wanted the opportunity to hunt the deer that Lordich had openly discussed with Draken.

  Lordich sat opposite Draken, wiped a sweaty brow and took a hearty swig from a tankard of ale. He never once looked at Draken, and he looked quite ill.

  ‘Is all well?’ Draken asked, noting Lordich’s eyes scanning the room with a look of disquiet.

  ‘Yes, why wouldn’t it be?’ Lordich snapped.

  ‘Because the way you have just answered me suggests there is something wrong.’

  ‘Well, there isn’t, everything is as we planned,’ Lordich said forcefully. ‘Where are Jericho and Perindar, they should have been here by now?’

  ‘Jericho insisted we needed more supplies.’

  ‘Typical Jericho, always over prepared. Why he invited himself, I’ll never know.’ Lordich shook his head. He looked briefly beyond his friend and gave an almost imperceptible nod. Draken, however, caught the motion and swivelled on his chair to check what Lordich had been looking at. He witnessed a dark figure scurry from the exit at the rear of the inn and swung back to face Lordich.

  ‘Who was that?’ Draken demanded.

  ‘That was our contact,’ said Lordich quietly, and looked left and right worried that they might be overheard.

  Lordich stood and urged Draken to do the same. ‘Follow me,’ he hissed.

  Draken tossed two bronze coins on the table from a pouch hidden in his cloak and followed Lordich from the inn. Outside, the rain bounced off a mud soaked yard and formed large puddles that reflected dark clouds. They huddled together under a lean-to that held empty ale barrels and listened to the rain as it pattered on a tin roof above them.

  ‘We are destined for greatness, you and I. We depart Jericho’s company tonight for the remainder of our leave.’

  ‘Where are we going?’ Draken asked.

  Lordich considered his response. ‘Tonight we shed our loyalty to The Order of The Wulf. We go to join a noble cause that fights for justice and truth.’ Lordich looked deep into Draken’s eyes. ‘We will begin to create a new future for ourselves. A future free from orders and regrets, a world where even your father is the one banished in your place.’ Lordich continued in his silky-smooth voice. ‘We will rule Rosthagaar together and trample any opposition who rise up against us, starting with your father.’

  ‘What needs to be done?’ said Draken.

  ‘Come with me to meet a friend by the name of Voloran Turg. He will direct us to our destination.’

  ‘And where is the destination?’

  ‘The birthplace of The Order of The Dragon,’ replied Lordich off-handedly.

  ‘That order was stamped out decades ago.’

  Lordich laughed. ‘That’s what they want you to believe. They will show us real power, and you and I will gain the greatness we so richly deserve.’

  Draken looked skyward and considered his options. He could still back out, return to The Brotherhood. Except he was intrigued to see what wonders The Order of The Dragon could teach him that The Order of The Wulf denied him.

  ‘There is one problem,’ Draken said.

  ‘Oh?’

  ‘What are we going to tell Jericho?’

  ❖

  After a minute, Coinin became impatient and shook his uncle from his daydream. ‘Uncle, are you going to answer me?’

  Draken came back to the moment and looked morose. The day he had permitted Lordich to lead him into the clutches of The Order of The Dragon, reminded him that it had been the worst decision of his life. ‘Yes, I’m sorry. There is one friend of Lordich that I remember. If he is
still alive then we would need to find a man called Voloran Turg of the Hede province,’ he replied.

  ‘Hede?’ Coinin’s brow knitted. ‘But that is giant country.’

  ‘True enough. You asked the question, so there’s your answer,’ Draken sighed. ‘Now, can I go back to sleep?’

  ‘No, you may not,’ Jericho called from the dark and then appeared at Coinin’s side. ‘We must set off now if we are to reach our destination on time.’

  ‘Then let’s get going, I’m eager to leave this place,’ Draken replied. He reached behind him and retrieved his ever-present leather pack. He pushed by the two men on his way to find Hur’al, who would, he thought, be the one to lead them from the tunnels.

  Coinin gave a wry smile to Jericho and hurried after his uncle. Everyone had gathered in an opening between the crates. Coinin joined Aniol and Axl who had gathered before Hur’al, who was standing on a small crate to raise himself above those assembled.

  ‘Friends, in just one hour we will attempt to escape the city. My informants tell me that the King has put the city on high alert. Regular patrols and extra guards at the gate means we will need to be swift and cunning.’

  ‘What about the tunnels? Do they not lead outside the walls?’ a voice asked to Coinin’s left.

  Hur’al rolled his eyes. ‘Noxin, you know very well that many fell into disrepair and the King demolished the rest.’

  ‘Just saying is all,’ Noxin huffed.

  ‘We are going to travel as far as the tunnels will allow, and then we will surface, use the alleyways of the lower city as cover, then a distraction will be implemented. That should give us enough time to open the gate and escape,’ Hur’al finished.

  Jericho moved forward and replaced Hur’al on the makeshift podium. ‘Do not underestimate the King. He will stop at nothing to capture us. Be ready for anything, and if we need to fight hand to hand, then so be it. Just do not harm a civilian.’ Jericho saluted his troops. ‘May Rindor protect you.’

  Without further delay, Hur’al led the assembled from the storage place into a dark tunnel wide enough for two men abreast. The brick was rougher here, and Coinin envied the troops in the lead who wore helmets. Aniol, Axl, and Menin took the rear, and it was comforting to be doing something finally.

  After several more turns, Hur’al stopped abruptly and looked above him, peering into the gloom in the light of his torch. The outline of an iron ladder showed the way up to the main street. He climbed quickly, raised a heavy grate a few inches and peered out into the night, seeking signs of life. Confident the coast was clear, he gave a low whistle and clambered from the hole. He helped each of the followers out of the hole, directing them to take cover in a nearby alleyway. Once all were clear, he replaced the grating to the sewers and joined the waiting party.

  ‘Follow me,’ he hissed. ‘Stay in the shadows.’

  Hur’al and the others crept silently along, conscious that they could be discovered at any moment. The darkness hid them well as they skirted the main buildings by keeping to the alleyways, the occasional bark from a dog the only noise that disturbed the still night. After many twists and turns, Hur’al stopped at the exit to the alleyway. He beckoned for Jericho and Coinin to join him while remaining hidden in the shadows.

  ‘What is it?’ Coinin asked.

  Hur’al poked his head out of the alleyway and pointed to his left down the main street. ‘There is the gateway out of the city; you will see a dozen men guard it. To our right, several guards are patrolling this stretch of the street.’

  Both Coinin and Jericho peeked at the guards going about their business and shrank back into the darkness with Hur’al.

  Across the street, a low stone wall ran perpendicular to them. Hur’al pointed to it. ‘I think our best option would be to position ourselves behind that wall and wait for my men to distract the guards.’

  ‘We will have to time this just right,’ said Jericho.

  They watched the patrolling guards eagerly, conscious of the cold that crept into their bones, making them stiff. Just as everyone behind them had grown impatient to move, Jericho turned to them.

  ‘There are guards on the watch to our right,’ he whispered. ‘It seems it takes them just over a minute to make a complete circuit of the street. There is a low wall opposite our position that we need to reach. As the guards turn away, we will need to move in groups of three or four. There is a guard post to our left, but the brow of the hill will hide us if we keep low.’

  Lieutenant Lifor stepped forward. ‘I will organise the men, Sir.’

  ‘Thank you, Lieutenant. Send them first, the civilians next, and then the senior Order brethren will follow,’ Jericho ordered. ‘Position the men and watch for my signal to send the first group.’

  Reena saluted and headed back to relay the news to the gathered soldiers. Thirty-seconds later, Coinin heard a quiet commotion behind him and turned around. The Order’s elite was busy securing any items that would rattle as they crept. They needed to ensure that their presence went undetected.

  The King’s guards turned away, and Jericho dropped his arm. As silently as possible, three soldiers bent low and scurried across the road, then hopped over the low wall and out of sight.

  Jericho breathed out and ducked into the shadows once more. This process was repeated until all of the men and women had successfully traversed the main street. The civilians also crossed the divide without a hitch, and that left Jericho, Zaruun, Menin and Coinin remaining.

  ‘Ready?’ Jericho kept his tone low.

  Coinin and the others nodded and prepared to move, only he stood frozen to the spot on Jericho’s signal. He felt sharp, cold steel pressed up against his neck, and a hand gripped his shoulder. ‘Move, and you’re dead,’ a voice said.

  Jericho weighed his options. He knew they didn’t stand a chance. Theirs would be a sacrifice for the greater good; at least the others had the opportunity to get away. ‘Do as he says, Curator.’

  The city guard led Coinin and Jericho onto the main street at sword point and turned right. They had almost reached the point of being visible to the patrolling guards when a loud thud was heard from behind them. They turned slowly and saw Draken brandishing his staff. He scowled at them. ‘That’s twice now I’ve had to save your sorry neck,’ he whispered. ‘Let’s not make it a third.’

  Menin and Zaruun raced across the road and joined Draken and Coinin behind the wall. Jericho remained and bent low to pick up the prone guard and dragged him out of sight behind the wall just as the patrolling guards turned.

  ‘What was that?’ Coinin heard one of the guards cry.

  The huddled fugitives heard heavy footsteps race to their location.

  ‘What? I see nothing,’ said a second voice.

  ‘Well, I definitely saw something right around here.’

  ‘Why don’t you take a look then?’

  ‘Alone?’

  ‘Superstitious are we?’

  ‘I’ve heard things, yes.’

  Coinin’s heart was ready to explode. He was certain its beat would give them away; it felt so loud in his ears. Slow footsteps approached, and everyone hugged the wall that much tighter. Coinin looked up at just the right moment to see the outline of a figure peering over the wall into the darkness, and then it happened; a drum beat in the distance that attracted the attention of the patrol.

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘How should I know?’

  ‘Sounds like a drum.’

  Coinin and the others heard a slap followed by a yelp. Someone had apparently received a cuff around the head.

  ‘I can hear that, thank you very much. We need to find out what’s going on. Follow me.’

  Coinin and those behind the wall heard quick footsteps retreat. He and Jericho dared to peep over the stonework. They saw two columns of city guards trotting up the hill towards the castle when a great creaking and groaning stopped them in their tracks.

  The guards looked about them, and the great statue of Kin
g Hantestum toppled and crashed before them, cutting off their route. They turned quickly, and to their horror, a second statue fell with a crash sealing them in with clouds of choking dust.

  A dozen hooded figures ran from the alleyways surrounding this newly created pen. They clambered onto the statues and trained bows upon the hapless guards within.

  Coinin and Jericho looked right for signs of the guardhouse watch coming to check on the commotion. However, King Hantestum had trained them well or indeed told them that they would head for the gallows if they left their posts.

  ‘Damn, it looks like we’re going to have to fight our way out of this city,’ Jericho swore. ‘Quindil, lead the men. Reena, take up the rear and protect the civilians at all cost. Laliala, stay here until the coast is clear.’

  Jericho withdrew his sword, and crouching; he followed the low wall until he was almost directly opposite the guardhouse, a stone structure that made up part of the entrance gate wall. The others did likewise, all the while keeping low. Coinin took a quick look over the wall and saw the gate watch stood to, prepared for action.

  ‘That wasn’t meant to happen,’ Hur’al whispered in his ear. ‘The brave fools were supposed to leave their posts to find out what all the noise was about.’

  Jericho thought quickly, devising a plan of action. He turned to Reena. ‘I want you and Quindil to lead the men on a frontal attack. Leave two men behind as archers. I will mop up any strays.’ He next turned to Coinin. ‘I want you to stay here with Laliala and Zaruun until I give the signal to move forward. If we can’t get that gate open, then I think it’ll be time for you to show us some of that fine magic of yours.’

  A nervous group of soldiers readied themselves as Jericho counted down and then gave the signal. As one, both columns of soldiers jumped the wall and drew swords. Reena surged left, and Quindil led right. Two archers dropped to a knee behind them and strung bows. Jericho joined them and ordered the archers to target the guards standing watch over the ramparts. With a whoosh of feathers, two guards silently dropped dead.