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

by Harrison Davies

  Coinin nodded and turned to leave. Unfortunately, he forgot the utensils hanging from the ceiling and walked into them head first, sending several clattering to the floor. Hurriedly, he bent to try to pick them up, but the cook was there quick as lightning.

  ‘I’ll get them, my dear,’ Cook announced.

  ‘I’m sorry, I –’

  ‘Oh, it’s no matter. You’re likely hungry is all. Makes people do silly things.’

  ‘You can say that again.’ Coinin nodded in gratitude and pursed his lips. ‘Goodbye.’

  He left the kitchen, closing the door behind him and leant against it. Idiot.

  He saluted in return to two guards on patrol through the temple and headed outside.

  The sun was still low, and he held his hand to shield his eyes. Looking around, he smiled at the familiarity and watched as a couple of white rabbits played together in the distance. A movement to his left caught his eye. On the far side of the central pathway Archmage Menin, resplendent in white robes, walked slowly among the bushes and plants.

  He knew she, like he, was refamiliarising herself with the sanctuary, thanking Rindor for its loveliness. He strode in her direction and soon caught up with her. A little breathlessly he greeted Menin cordially. ‘Greetings, Archmage.’

  ‘Good morning, Curator. How are you this beautiful day?’

  ‘Hungry.’

  Menin laughed. ‘I see you, too, realised that we’re in fasting season. I was ever so disappointed to not have my morning vitals.’

  ‘So you came outside to take your mind off it?’

  Menin nodded. ‘Coinin?’ she paused, ‘are you certain you wish to go through with this plan of yours?’

  ‘I’ve thought of nothing else. It is the only sensible option. We need to know what Lordich is planning, possibly find a weakness on how to get to him.’

  ‘If you insist on taking this course of action, I have one request.’

  Coinin cocked his head, ‘Oh?’

  ‘Shave the beard. If you wish to pass as a city boy, it’ll be far more convincing.’

  Coinin rubbed his face fur protectively. ‘I was just getting used to it.’

  ‘The good thing about beards is that they grow back,’ Menin reminded with a wink.

  ‘I suppose,’ Coinin acquiesced glumly. ‘Archmage? I want to take this moment while we are alone to express my gratitude for all that you have done for me. Yes, I know things haven’t always worked out as we would have hoped and we have lost people. But without your support and guidance, I don’t think I could ever have lasted this long.’

  ‘Coinin, I am not worthy of your gratitude. There is –’ Menin stopped.

  ‘Yes, Archmage?’

  ‘Nothing, please, continue.’

  Coinin couldn’t help but think the elder woman had something burning to tell him. He did not push the point. He knew how stubborn she could be and was sure that she would tell him in her own time. ‘If, as you say, I could die today, then everything I have done has been worth it. Who knew that an eighteen … no, wait, am I nineteen now? I can barely believe that a curator my age could have achieved so much. I have experienced more in the short time I’ve been here than in my entire life, and it’s all thanks to you. You believed in me from the start and taught me so much.’

  Menin grimaced. ‘You really shouldn’t thank me.’

  ‘Don’t be so modest.’

  ‘It’s not modesty. I have placed you and Marrok in great danger. You both could have died numerous times because of me.’

  ‘You were only following the prophecy and if you can do that with conviction then so can I. I will do my all to stop Lordich and Death.’

  Menin closed her eyes and said nothing for a minute. ‘Then so be it,’ she said with a heavy heart.

  ‘On a side note, the swords, are they safe?’

  Menin glanced around her, checking for eavesdroppers. ‘They are stored securely within the Library of Ages vault.’

  ‘I trust all the usual precautions have been taken to ensure only you and I can access them.’

  ‘Without question,’ Menin confirmed.

  ‘I have something I wish to confess,’ Coinin said nervously.

  ‘Really?’

  Coinin nodded. ‘With everything that has been happening of late, it totally slipped my mind.’

  ‘Well, don’t keep me waiting.’ Menin stopped walking and crossed her arms.

  ‘Draken came to see me in Underworld, the same time that Aniol returned.’

  Menin’s face clouded.

  ‘By all accounts, he saved Aniol from certain death in the frigid water of Lake Rodine. It seems he has fallen in love with Meone.’

  ‘Meone?’ Menin questioned. ‘I don’t see how this –’

  ‘Archmage, this is difficult enough, without you interrupting me,’ Coinin said.

  ‘Yes, of course. Please, continue.’

  ‘He, Draken, has confessed his past deeds to Meone, Rindor and me. There are certain facts concerning my personal life that makes me believe that he is truly repentant.’ Coinin coughed nervously. ‘Nevertheless, I have banished him from Sanctuary. He handed me a satchel and within it the last remaining Sword and Rose of Cerathil. He wanted to redeem himself.’

  Menin looked very displeased. She instinctively fingered the chain around her neck. ‘So, he stole the decoy. I had thought it destroyed. Fortunately, the real Rose was never in my possession. Good old Soliath Wulf held it in his possession all along.’

  Coinin thought back to the first time he ventured into the then curator’s office. A painting of Soliath hung above the door, and he remembered distinctly an unusual glow coming from the painted Rose of Cerathil around the founding archmage’s neck. ‘It was hidden in the painting, wasn’t it?’

  ‘I knew you were intelligent,’ Menin praised.

  Coinin brushed off the comment. ‘Stands to reason. I trust you kept it safe since that day.’

  ‘I never wore it until today. We are so close to the end, I figured that it must be about my person always. Soliath kindly gave it up without a fuss. So, Draken has finally shown some remorse. I am pleased for him.’

  ‘I thought you hated him.’

  ‘No, I hated what he had become.’

  ‘Well, you won’t need to worry about him anymore. He is residing in Rodine City.’

  ‘How do you feel about that? He is the only family that you know.’ Menin raised a brow.

  ‘For his own good, I told him to leave. He has a dark past, one that follows him like a shadow. Can he ever leave it behind?’

  ‘Perhaps, and perhaps not. Only time will tell.’

  Coinin had a sudden thought. ‘Where’s Zaruun?’

  ‘I told him that if he does not take a rest that I shall replace him. Nethlith is skulking around somewhere watching over me. For that matter, where is Aniol?’

  Coinin shrugged. ‘I guess she slept in. To be honest, she could do with rest.’

  ‘So could we all.’

  ‘I’ll rest when I’m dead.’ Coinin chuckled.

  ‘I doubt it. Don’t you know all curator’s end up as archmage and spend time in the afterlife?’

  ‘Archmage? I am not sure I want to be an archmage. Too many restrictions,’ Coinin baulked.

  ‘Such as?’ Menin raised a brow.

  Coinin turned bright red. ‘Love.’

  ‘Is the love of the creator God not enough for you?’

  ‘As much as I love Rindor, I have certain needs.’

  ‘Ah, physical pleasure,’ Menin said quite plainly, and this made Coinin squirm.

  ‘You make it sound so sordid. I never asked for this role. It was thrust upon me.’

  ‘Yet, you did give yourself freely to Rindor.’

  ‘True, but should that stop me living life?’

  ‘Have I not said to you numerous times? You are in a position to change things.’

  Coinin’s brows furrowed. ‘Yes, dozens. But how?’

  ‘You are the curator, keepe
r of the keys to the Great Library. Every diktat, rule and advisory are at the end of your quill. Only you can change the rules.’

  Fleetingly, an image of Aniol appeared in Coinin’s mind, and he fought hard to remove it.

  Menin smiled knowingly the moment she witnessed him blushing.

  Coinin had a sudden worry that Menin had read his mind and rushed to change the subject. ‘I shall deposit the sword in the Great Library.’

  ‘Very well, Curator. At what time shall we reconvene?’

  Coinin twisted his mouth in thought and looked upwards as if seeking an answer. ‘I would say immediately after the midday meal.’

  ‘See you soon then. Cheerio.’ Menin gave a small smile and wandered away whistling to herself a lesser known temple song.

  Coinin watched her go and spotted Nethlith, an apprentice protector following at a discreet distance. He smiled and turned heel to then head back to the temple, feeling the sun warm his back as he did so. The snows, he noted, were late this year. A good snowfall would perhaps have hampered Lordich and his plans.

  He trotted up the main stairs and turned the corridor into his offices. There was still no sign of Aniol patiently waiting outside of his chambers, though he supposed it was still early, and they had all been tired. He unlocked his door and entered the room. Beyond, he collected Draken’s leather satchel, quickly checked the contents and left the room.

  Shortly thereafter he enjoyed another walk in the gardens of the temple. Though, this time he turned down the right-hand side of the building until he reached a fountain on the far edge of the grounds that held the image of a wolf baying at the moon. Water gushed from the wolf’s mouth and gathered within a large circular font below.

  As he had been shown by Archmage Menin, he checked that he had been unobserved and pressed the eye of the wolf lightly. The eye retracted like a button, and then a secret stairwell rotated into view in the base of the fountain. He quickly trotted down them and into the darkness.

  Deep in the bowels of the Library of Ages, cut into the rock itself, Coinin became understandably nervous. His second to the last visit to this great library had not gone well at all. He had been possessed by Death, and while possessed, had unknowingly battled with Archmage Menin.

  Death had desired his name, Mort, to be inserted into the Scroll of Life, or as it turned out, the Tree of Life, placed there by Rindor, the High King of the gods. Should he have succeeded in securing his name in the scroll, then the ousted God would have been one step closer to challenging his brother, Rindor, to rule.

  Coinin had fought internally with Death and had won, sending the fallen god back to his realm.

  He headed to a chamber he had visited previously, conscious that torches lit by themselves as he walked by. The great hewn space held many treasures including a great tome with reference to every book or scroll held in this secret library. He swept past rows and rows of shelving, chock full of valuable items, many of them dangerous in the wrong hands.

  On the far wall, behind several shelves, he located a blank section of rock, smoother than that surrounding it. He fished a small golden key from a chain around his neck and slotted it into a barely visible hole in the top right-hand section of the smooth rock. He turned a quarter turn to the left, then a half turn right. With a click, the rock rumbled and jutted out a few inches and then with an audible sigh and release of air pressure the rock slab slid sideways revealing behind a dark space.

  The vault was not really a vault, just more of a hidden recess, admittedly guarded beyond intrusion with hexes and spells, and access would be impossible without the correct key.

  Coinin checked inside the dark hole and felt for the other swords. Satisfied that they were present, he withdrew Trenobin’s Cerathil Sword. He deposited it next to the others and then turned the key a half turn left and a quarter right. Once he had withdrawn the key, the rock slab closed with a crunch, sealing the vault.

  Satisfied the job was complete, he took a few moments to browse some of the items on the shelves and then headed for the exit.

  Breathless from the climb back to the surface, he rested on the rim of the fountain font after first closing the secret entrance and admired the view. In the distance the dome of the Great Library topped the trees and shone with brilliance, its white marble reflecting the sun’s rays.

  His moment of peace was interrupted by a cough that jolted him back to reality. He turned to see Aniol in silhouette against the sun. ‘I must apologise, Curator, for neglecting my duties this morning,’ she said.

  ‘Where have you been?’ Coinin asked quietly, without the merest hint of an accusation.

  Aniol’s head drooped. ‘I spent the night in Axl’s chambers. I just lost track of time. Should you wish to court martial –’

  ‘That will not be necessary. There are far more pressing matters to deal with than my protector oversleeping. We shall say no more on this.’ Coinin drew a line with his open hand.

  By the time the main meal at midday arrived, it was very welcome. The kitchen had outdone themselves, ensuring that the returning heroes would be well fed.

  The main hall was full to the brim with brothers and sisters eager to hear any news from the archmage or curator. Dressed in simple robes, they crowded around tables and benches facing a podium that held a table for the senior order members.

  Coinin sat on the right of Menin, with General Jonjo to the left. There were noticeable gaps where Marrok and Jericho should have sat. Aniol and Zaruun were, on this occasion, permitted to sit at the top table.

  Menin stood and held up a hand for silence, and soon enough the hubbub subsided, and all eyes were upon her. ‘Brothers, sisters, the hour of judgement draws ever closer, and there is still yet much to accomplish. Many of you by now will have heard that Lordich Secracar has captured the City of Rostha, our neighbour and former ally. This leaves no doubt in my mind that Lordich intends to march on this temple and crush our very way of life into the dust.’

  Stunned silence followed cries of horror from the onlookers.

  ‘Rest assured we are doing all we can to thwart any plan. General Jonjo has recalled all Brotherhood soldiers from Rosthagaar, and I understand at this very moment, they are on their way to help fortify the temple.’ Meinin looked to Jonjo who very firmly nodded. ‘In the meantime, we need to work together to protect the temple from attack. Each of you will be assigned a duty by the Order’s lieutenants and, Rindor willing, today will not be our last meal together in this most sacred of places. I urge you to eat, pray and work hard to defend the sanctuary.’

  Menin sat, and Coinin stood. He coughed and still managed to look uncomfortable speaking in front of a crowd. ‘Friends. It has been a pleasure serving you and the temple. Even though it has only been for a short time, I feel that this place is my home and I would rather no other. You have welcomed me and taken me under your wing, supported me and encouraged me. Despite my youth. Today, my protector and I will venture forth to ascertain Lordich’s plan.’ He stopped and considered his next words. ‘This carries with it a degree of risk. Should we be captured, do not attempt a rescue. Use your efforts to defend this place at all costs, and should we die, then we do so in the knowledge that we did honourably and for the good of Er’ath. May Rindor’s blessings protect you.’

  Coinin sat and closed his eyes. He was leaving the safety of the temple again, and this time without Marrok. He was beyond nervous. Alone, admittedly with Anion in tow, he was about to take on the greatest dark wizard of the age. It was life or death.

  The meal, consisting of game pie, roasted or boiled vegetables and wine was well received by all. Prayers were given and songs were sung. Afterwards, greetings and handshakes were offered as both a welcome and a goodbye.

  Soon after that, Coinin and the others headed back to Menin’s study and convened there.

  Menin offered each of those assembled tea in small porcelain cups, thin enough that Coinin could see the light penetrate its walls like the skin of an ear in broad dayl
ight.

  ‘I would like to run over the plan once more,’ Menin announced. ‘You said that we should not attempt a rescue should you be captured. I cannot bring myself to agree to that request.’

  ‘With respect, it is not your decision to make. I have made what I believe to be the soundest of judgements. Sending anyone else would be foolish. I’ve already said Aniol and I will be able to pass for simple village folk. I was born of that ilk, remember.’

  ‘But the temple, you would leave it unguarded in its time of need. Your duty is to protect it,’ Menin argued.

  Coinin cocked his head listening to a small voice in his head. ‘In times of great need and under exceptional circumstances, the curator is permitted to declare a second to secure the temple. In this case, I am the logical choice to infiltrate Rostha. I don’t anticipate any issues, and if there are, I will deal with them accordingly.’

  ‘You are one person against an army and Lordich. Yes, you may have some ability in the magical arts, but nowhere near enough to take on an army.’

  Coinin grew impatient with Menin. He had made a decision and was going to stick with it. He held up his hand for silence. ‘This is not a debate. Aniol and I are going, and I ask for your support to protect the temple. Therefore, I choose my second to be Laliaila Menin.’

  ‘That’s impossible. I am the archmage. The archmage cannot become embroiled in fighting.’ Menin stood and rested her palms on the desk in front of her.

  Coinin stood and crossed to the desk and faced Menin. They locked eyes and their brows furrowed stubbornly.

  ‘The archmage can be sanctioned to resume their previous role of curator in times of war, conflict and desertion by the actual curator. This is a time of conflict where I will not be present to protect the Golden Temple. Therefore, you will be required to resume your former role, albeit temporarily.’

  ‘I have heard no such ruling before.’

  ‘Have you had to do as I plan to do?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Then that individual piece of knowledge you acquired during your initiation as curator is not needed and is not brought to bear until as and when required.’ Coinin was referring to the collective knowledge of many curators imbued into both of them during their own initiations into the order. It was as if thousands of former curators were inside his mind there to help him in times of need by offering advice, and every now and then a very distinct voice, one of many, would give him a particular piece of knowledge, such as had just been given him.