‘Marrok?’ Coinin called from behind.
The older brother turned to see Coinin escort Tort by the arm from the tower. ‘Yes, what is it?’
‘Tort says he has something to show us.’
‘Lordich?’
Coinin shook his head.
‘He’s cooperating?’
‘No choice, I’m afraid,’ Tort said glumly.
‘Lead, the way,’ Coinin ordered, and Tort complied.
The old man, stooped with age, carefully picked his way through a mud-ridden courtyard, avoiding the recently deceased guards who had put up a fight. ‘Murderers,’ he muttered.
‘Murderers would have ransacked this whole place and killed everyone in it. I stopped that,’ Marrok snarled.
Once beyond the courtyard, the space beyond had been carved into the rock face itself. An intricately carved temple of sorts, with pillars of marble and an awning detailed with images of dragons.
‘What is this place?’ Marrok asked.
Tort snorted. ‘The mighty Brotherhood doesn’t know everything, it seems.’
‘I know what this is. This is the birthplace of The Brotherhood of The Dragon. It’s your temple, isn’t it?’
‘Clever boy,’ Tort sneered. ‘Only we don’t worship gods, we revere the elementals.’
‘I can see why those forces could be attractive,’ Coinin mused. ‘It is a pity that your reverence is nearsighted.’
‘Nearsighted?’ Tort retorted.
Coinin ignored him. If he did not know or desire to know Rindor, ruler of the Gods, then he was not going to engage in a debate of who was right or wrong. His priority was to find Lordich. ‘What did you wish me to see?’
Tort looked Coinin directly in the eye. ‘You will spare this temple?’
‘I will.’
‘There is a chest belonging to Lordich hidden inside.’
‘Careful brother, this could be a trap,’ Marrok cautioned.
‘Undoubtedly. Though, I’m sure Tort here knows what will happen to his precious temple should anything happen to me,’ Coinin replied, his voice monotone.
Tort nodded heartily. ‘I assure you that the chest exists and I mean you no harm.’
‘Very well. Marrok, take the rear. Should I fall, waste not one second in mourning. Kill him.’ Coinin heard himself say the words, but he was quite unprepared to have them emanate from his mouth. He had always been a peaceful soul, and now he was changing so fast, he could hardly stand it.
Tort looked at Marrok who grinned and fingered the hilt of his sword. The elderly man swallowed hard and walked forward to the entrance to the temple after Coinin.
Several stone steps led up to the entrance. Four black marble columns held up an intricately carved pediment. Once beyond the pillars, the darkness hit him and he waved a hand seeking something solid to hold onto. As if the space had sensed his presence, torches fastened to several columns lit around the periphery of an entirely circular room. The chamber had been cut into the rock with such precision that the surface was almost like that of glass. Its blackness made Coinin feel queasy, almost as if he was going to be sucked into a void and gave him the feeling of falling into the blackest of holes.
‘It takes some getting used to.’ Tort took a quick glance at Marrok and found him ever watchful on the outskirts. ‘The chest is hidden behind a secret panel, just over there.’
Coinin stood still, a little disoriented by the space. ‘Bring it to me, quickly.’
Tort nodded and hurried to a section of wall at the rear of the temple. He stepped around a black marble semi-circular seat and kneeled. After a moment, a slight rumbling accompanied a scraping of rock on rock that disturbed the silence.
Several seconds later, Tort, true to his word, returned to the centre of the temple and offered the chest to Coinin, who ignored him. He merely stood there staring into space, wobbling slightly and looked in danger of collapsing.
‘What’s wrong with him?’ Marrok called and headed further into the space, hand on sword hilt.
‘This happens; the elements can sometimes overpower the mind for newcomers. He will be well if we leave,’ Tort assured.
‘Take the chest outside. You shall open it there,’ Marrok announced. He walked over to Coinin and helped his brother from the temple.
‘Coinin, are you well?’ Marrok asked.
After blinking for a few seconds and shaking his head, he nodded. ‘Yes, I’m fine. That was unlike anything I’ve experienced before.’
‘What happened?’
‘I can’t describe it. The room began to spin, and I was falling into a void. All around me images of cities and towns began to pass before my eyes faster and faster … what is this temple used for, Tort?’
‘I cannot say upon pain of death,’ Tort replied.
Marrok seized the old man by the collar and brought his face close. ‘Is it a weapon of some kind?’
‘No, I must not. He will kill me.’
‘If you don’t tell me, I will kill you,’ Marrok assured.
Tort swallowed hard and saw no lie in the eyes of the young soldier. ‘Let me go, and I will tell you.’
‘Coinin?’ Marrok asked. ‘What to do?’
‘There is no need to let him go. I know what it is. Curator Ribald has just offered an answer.’ Coinin tapped his temple. ‘He once captured a Dragon Order acolyte who told all of a black cave that housed a temple with magic so powerful it could transport people across continents, and this surely is it.’
‘You mean like the Key of Kalor?’ Marrok said, surprising himself that he remembered that fact.
‘Exactly. Now I wonder if this could benefit us somehow.’ Coinin switched tack. ‘Tort, open the chest.’
Tort, his hands trembling, positioned the small chest in the crook of his arm, and with the other hand turned a little brass catch on the front of the box. With a click, the lid flipped open on a spring mechanism.
Tort sighed with relief that Lordich had not jinxed the box and his limbs were still intact. He handed the box to Marrok who took it and looked inside.
‘Empty,’ he cursed. With a fit of rage he threw the chest, where it shattered against a temple column.
‘Marrok, wait. Look!’ Coinin pointed to the debris of the small box. Something glinted with a blue hue.
Marrok strode to the chest and dug inside the lining. He straightened up and withdrew the tiniest sliver of blue crystal. He looked to Coinin with puzzlement. ‘What is this, Tort?’
Tort took the crystalline structure and turned it over in his hand. ‘This would appear to be the same type of crystal that Lordich uses to travel from this place via the portal.’
‘So it needs crystals to function?’ Coinin asked.
‘Indeed, though this amount is good enough for one journey only. The crystals deteriorate over time and use,’ Tort revealed.
‘You are very talkative, Tort. What are you hiding?’ Marrok accused.
Tort appeared affronted. ‘You march into my home, kill my guards, threaten me. I want rid of you as quickly as possible, that is all.’
‘We will leave, but first, one last question. What is Lordich up to?’
Tort looked torn. He had said far too much already.
‘Time is wasting, Tort. I will make it simple for you,’ Coinin began. ‘I will level the temple, destroy your tower and make homeless anyone who resides here. Then I will march you back to King Henfal and have him clap you in irons for the remainder of your days.’
Tort looked panicked. ‘No, please, I … the temple –’
‘Then tell my brother what he wants to know, and we’ll leave you in peace.’
To reinforce the point, Coinin called upon the elemental forces, and a flame erupted from the palm of his upturned hand. ‘Which do you wish to see burn first, the tower or temple?’
Tort issued a guttural cry in frustration. ‘He plans to take the City of Rostha and declare himself king. This will give him the right to declare your precious Brotherhood a cult a
nd outlaw it.’
‘When does he plan to do this?’ Coinin asked, panicked.
‘The process has already begun.’
Coinin and Marrok looked at each other in dismay.
‘Then there is little time. Tort, hand me that crystal shard.’ Coinin held out his hand, now extinguished of flame.
‘What are you plotting, brother?’ Marrok asked curiously.
‘How far will this crystal take me if I use it?’
Tort looked again at the shard. ‘It will not get you to Rosthagaar, if that is your aim.’
‘Where then?’ Coinin demanded.
‘Judging by its size, no further than Manil. I can’t really say for sure.’
Coinin cursed, angry and frustrated that he had no way to warn the temple. ‘How many can travel with this?’
‘Two or three people at the most. It is a rather small shard,’ Tort replied.
‘Lordich must have kept it here for an emergency use. Then there is no choice, we must return to Manil and from there travel home as fast as possible.’
‘It’ll take weeks to travel to Manil,’ Marrok advised.
Coinin rolled his eyes at his brother’s slow-mindedness. ‘Not if we use the crystal.’
Marrok looked joyful at the prospect of a new experience, then less so. ‘What about the dwarves?’
Coinin appeared annoyed for a moment. ‘I don’t care to spend another three weeks travelling with them. Marrok, please tell them to head back to Manil without us. If they ask why, tell them we have other matters to attend to here. Oh, and be nice, thank them for their service.’
With a boot up the arse, Marrok thought. ‘See you soon then.’
Marrok wrapped his cloak tightly around him and ran from sight behind a small stone dwelling.
‘We may as well wait. Let’s head back to the tower for the moment.’
Marrok returned shortly thereafter and squeezed rain from his hair. ‘That dwarf! If I ever see Dark again, I am going to –’
‘Calm down, Marrok. What happened?’ Coinin interrupted.
‘He’s stranded us here. Packed up and left.’ Marrok kicked at a low wall outside of the tower.
‘What did you do to him to make him do that?’
‘Nothing, really,’ Marrok said guiltily.
‘Well, look, I don’t want to know right now, we have a faster way back. Tort, how does the shard work?’
‘It’s quite simple really. Hold the crystal in your hand and concentrate on your destination. You have to really want to get there. Should you be hesitant, you may find yourself in several pieces spread from here to Manil.’
‘Oh, well, that’s reassuring.’ Marrok shook his head.
‘Just so we’re clear, Tort. If this does scatter our entrails across the continent, The Brotherhood of The Wulf with all its might will return here looking for us. So, if this is a trick of some kind, speak up now,’ Coinin warned.
‘I’d go first, but there is but one shard of crystal remaining,’ Tort assured.
‘Well, Tort, you have served us well. I shall pass your regards to Lordich when I next see him.’
Tort went pale, if not a little green. ‘There is no need to mention me, I only –’
‘Turned coward and traitor to save your own skin. Yes, we know. Come on, Marrok.’
Coinin and Marrok walked from the tower and through the courtyard, leaving Tort alone and considerably worried.
‘You aren’t really going to tell Lordich that Tort betrayed him, are you?’ Marrok asked after a while.
‘Of course not, what do you think I am, a monster? Besides,’ he chuckled, ‘I quite liked the old goat.’
‘You don’t think he just made that stuff up to get rid of us?’
‘Yes, of course. There’s no way Lordich would want to rule Rosthagaar. You said it yourself, he seeks to destroy The Brotherhood and become the only religious body on Er’ath. He’s more likely to want to destroy the Golden Temple, and we can’t let that happen.’
‘I don’t believe we should discount anything that man does. So, what now?’ Marrok asked as they entered the temple.
The torches flickered to life once more and illuminated the room.
‘We’re just one sword short, and Lordich is nowhere to be found. We should return to the temple and ensure it is protected and then we can consider our options.’
Marrok mulled it over. ‘I see no other reason to stay here.’
‘Good. Shall we go?’
Marrok nodded. ‘What do we do?’
Coinin held out the blue crystal shard and offered one end to Marrok.
‘Concentrate hard on our destination and only that destination. Manil.’
‘That’s it?’
‘Yes. Though get it wrong, and it’ll be the last journey we’ll ever make together.’
Marrok breathed out heavily and then took a deep breath in. ‘I’m ready.’
Coinin held the shard steady, and Marrok took one end. Together they closed their eyes, and an uncomfortably warm sensation began to build in their chests, and it felt like an octopus had started to strangulate their insides.
Marrok looked to Coinin. ‘I guess he had the last laugh then.’ He held his stomach and was just about to collapse to the floor when they both vanished with a rush of air and a blue blinding flash, their screams echoing through the room long after they had left.
Watching from the periphery of the temple, Tort sniffed from the cold air, smirked, and hobbled forward. He reached into his cloak and withdrew a small pouch. From inside the leather, he removed a red crystal, much like the one Coinin and Marrok had used. He stepped into the middle of the temple area and held the shard tight.
‘Take me to Lordich,’ he shouted, and closed his eyes. A few uneventful seconds later, he too was gone in a rush of air.
NOW IS THE TIME
‘Lord Secracar, I have news.’ A squat man of age bowed and prostrated himself before the dark wizard, Lordich. He smirked showing blackened teeth, and looked left and right shiftily.
Lordich sat cross-legged upon a red velvet cushion on a natural rock cave floor, lit by bioluminescent mushrooms that gave off a steady orange glow.
‘How many times must I remind you not to interrupt my meditations? One more interruption and I – ‘
‘But, my Lord, the news I have is very favourable to the cause.’
Lordich seethed and clenched his jaw tightly. ‘Do enlighten me.’
The small man hopped excitedly from one foot to the other and rubbed his hands gleefully. ‘Our spies report that the Golden Temple lies unguarded.’
‘Unguarded? The Golden Temple? I think not. Leave, before I lose my patience.’ Annoyed as he was, he knew that good help was hard to come by, and therefore restrained himself from harming the simpering idiot before him.
‘It is the truth, my Lord. Archmage Menin has left the sanctuary to join forces with Curator Wulf.’
Lordich dared hope that the man did indeed speak truthfully, but then he could hear the conviction in his tone and had never seen such a look of eagerness about him. ‘Then who has she left in her stead to guard the temple?’
‘By all accounts, General Jonjo.’
Lordich threw back his head and laughed. He clambered to his feet and, rather unlike him, patted his servant on the shoulder to show approval. ‘That fool shall stand no chance against my army. If what you say is true, then there may never be a better time to strike at the heart of The Brotherhood. Rouse everyone, I wish to speak with them.’
The little man bowed low, offering his balding pate to his master. ‘Immediately, my Lord.’
Lordich watched the servant back out of the cave. Once alone, his typically cruel face forced a maniacal smile. His day of revenge was at hand.
Sweeping from the cave, he exited into the moonlight and checked about for signs of life. None were to be found as per his instructions, since he preferred solitude while communing with the spirits.
Right now, his excitement was
such that he desired someone, anyone, to celebrate this fortuitous news with, only he had sent his loyal, if not incessantly annoying servant from his side.
The council would take some time to assemble, and therefore he decided he would visit the one place sacred to him, a secret place that only he had access to.
He wandered away from the cave mouth and ventured into a wooded area. After checking for signs of life, he approached a gnarled and ancient oak tree, thick and dominating, whereupon he closed his eyes and muttered a simple three-word incantation. With finality, he parted his hands and with a creaking and cracking the bark of the tree trunk parted as if it was hinged, and there before him stood a doorway, a bright light beyond beckoning him to enter.
He stepped through immediately and felt a rush of wind engulf him as an unseen force propelled him forward through a white nothingness. No distinct forms or features were discernible as he traversed the void in a non-corporeal form. The first time he had used this method of transportation he had scared himself half to death as his solid form reverted to an almost transparent likeness, where he could neither touch nor feel.
All too soon his journey ended, and as he exited the emptiness his body solidified, and he stepped onto firm ground.
With a whoosh, the portal behind him closed, sending his hair fluttering in all directions.
He straightened his long grey locks and peered about him. Nothing had changed since his last visit.
Ahead of him atop a grassy hill, a single yew tree blossomed amid a warm summer day, cloudless and quiet, save for the odd morning song of a blackbird.
Nestled at the bottom of the hill, an arched-roofed caravan greeted him with its simple faded lettering along its side, The Carnivále Secracar, former home to his father, long dead.
This was his retreat, his private space, unsullied by others, where he could commune with the dead.
Surrounded on all sides by high cliffs, he knew that his secrecy was secured. This small haven from the world was home to his past, his future uncertain.
Lordich bypassed the caravan and wandered leisurely up the incline of the hill towards the single tree at the summit.
The Aduramis Chronicles: Volumes 1-3: The Definitive Collection Page 107