"He was a Penarol," said Loric. "The Turucks must have beat information out of him. I don't think he will last much longer."
"Let me see." Blackthorne moved his hands over the man. A faint green glow illuminated the scene. The sorcerer pulled back his hands and shook his head.
"As you said, he will die soon. There is more damage to him than merely beatings. There is something there foul, and decayed. There is the touch of the Menaloch about him. Let us leave here quickly."
Loric spun suddenly and his sword blocked an attack by a dark robed assailant. Two more charged up to them. Blackthorne backed away, keeping Loric between him and the attackers as he gathered his thoughts. Loric fell back on the defensive as all three now engaged him. He had wounded the first one severely but nothing slowed him down.
Suddenly, the night sky was filled with blue flame and Loric saw his attackers. Turucks, but their eyes were black and their wounds did not bleed.
"Turucks, but different! They don't bleed!"
"Ah, I know what they are," said Blackthorne.
"Good! Tell me after they are dead."
"I believe they already are."
"Blackthorne!"
"Patience, my dear Loric. These things cannot be rushed. I am a sorcerer, not a hire sword."
Loric stared at the space before his opponents visualizing his movements. He bull rushed the trio, knocking them backward. He beheaded one just as a green flame consumed the other two.
"There," said Blackthorne. "A little more effort than I anticipated. Ah, I see beheading does the trick too."
"What are they?"
"Shadow Runners. I heard rumor that Tag Makk was subjecting his soldiers to some spell with the Menaloch to create a lethal troop of assassins. Never tiring, nearly invincible, or should I say, unstoppable, without magic or beheading, as you just proved."
"Are they linked to the Menaloch? Does it know they are dead?"
"I don't think so. That would be power unimaginable. No, the Menaloch twisted the Turucks into these creatures and gave them direction, no more. I don't believe the Menaloch has detected our presence. However, we must convince Kerreth of the danger the Shadow Runners present. Are you wounded?"
Loric checked himself quickly.
"Nope. Pristine as always."
"Loric, you are such a bore."
"Let's continue on. Penarol City is ahead."
"Yes, and the sky glows reddish in the north. I fear the Turucks are attacking the city now. It will fall before we can reach it and the Turucks will have moved on before Kerreth catches up with us."
"What do you suggest?"
"A proper burial for this man from Penarol. Then we shall wait for Kerreth and the others."
Chapter 2
The majestic castle at Riverdowns witnessed many coronations of Eslenda kings in its storied histories, some bloody, some bloodless, yet its stoic walls changed not, heedless of the colors flying from its ramparts or of the siege towers and catapult assaults throughout its existence. Men settled Eslenda a thousand years ago when the clans settled into farming and their settlements dotted the land. The strongest families protected the others and a nation rose from the fields of Eslenda. The northern Men remained nomadic and called themselves Nunari, the traveling ones. Only the Nunari had much contact with the Daerlan of Liannest and the Eslendians kept to their own business. They were aware of the doings of Landermass from the trading ships but they made no treaties and promised no allegiance to any other kingdom. On the far eastern lands of Amloth the kingdom of Cresida emerged from the shadow of the Celaeri.
The mountains to the east of Eslenda kept them focused on their own lands and what wars they fought were between the clans who strove to dominate. The strongest families were Islen, Cane, Oswald, Tucker and May. Among these a king was chosen and strength of arms decided the continuation of the family rule.
The reign of King Henry Islen proclaimed itself from the colors now flying and the wind snapped the cloth unseeing the glory of Men. It was Men who filled the grey stone castle, men loyal to King Henry, and men loyal to his sons. Those descriptions applied to many men together, yet not all. There were some who claimed loyalty to those opposing the king and still the castle cared not.
Merchants sold their wares outside the castle walls and those favored by the king worked from stalls inside the gates. The gates opened at dawn and closed at dusk allowing for a continuous flow of humanity in and out of the castle. The town of Riverdowns grew up around the southern end of the castle and the town had a high wall sharing stonework with the northern wall of the castle. A visitor would be admitted at the town gate before approaching the castle gate. The town garrison was either very young or very old, not worthy in the eyes of Sir John Plucker, Captain of the Guard at Riverdowns and a source of a bitter stomach for the old captain. Often the city guards allowed untrustworthy people into the city; however they never entered the castle. The castle guards were the best, handpicked by Plucker and trained under his supervision. Nothing happened in the castle without Plucker's knowledge. Once a feared knight for Henry Islen, Plucker's tremendous strength battered his opponents and helped Henry drive out Robert Oswald and claim the throne. But age and past injuries were rapidly claimed the old knight and he drove his guards to perfection in an effort to forget his own frailties. An old sword wound to his knee pained him and he could not hide the limp anymore.
Townsfolk spent their mornings buying and trading for the goods they needed. Traveling merchants would set up at the end of the merchants beyond the walls and attract attention from the curious for the unusual wares.
As his wont, Plucker walked the market every morning, both in the castle and out, down to the very last cart in the city. He never refused a free sample and many merchants were quick to offer him their wares.
"Good morning, Sir Plucker!" called a merchant. "Freshest in town. A sample for you if you spread the word."
"A deal, good Ulf. Everyone will know where this fruit came from."
Plucker kept an eye on Prince Edward's men, huddled in the far side of the market. It was always dicey when both princes were in Riverdowns. Each brought armed men and it was all Plucker could do to keep the men away from each other, the soldiers and the princes, too. The rumors were too common; most citizens knew Edward thought he should have the Eslenda throne despite Hal being the eldest. However, Edward also claimed Oswald blood through his mother, Mary Oswald Islen, Hal's stepmother. The Oswald's were the ruling family until Henry Islen wrested the crown from Mary Oswald's uncle. Edward seemed to think the double royal blood counted more than the order of succession. Hal for his part had no thoughts for his brother. Prince Hal stayed at his castle whenever he could and hated being summoned to Riverdowns. Over the years, Hal's respect for his father slipped and he distrusted the court phonies. He would rue the day he became king and disrupt his pleasant life. But it was the only way for his son, James; to become king and so Hal would become king willingly for James' sake.
The castle courtyards were filled with people busy about their life's business but a sound from above caught their ears and drew their eyes upward. One of the windows of the castle hosted shouts and curses and the people below wondered at the sound. One of them, Sir John Plucker, looked up and formed a curse upon his lips. He limped quickly through the doors of the castle.
The knife flashed in Hal's eyes as he spun to the side. He brought his own knife upward to gut his opponent but his brother danced away, his boots rapping on the wood floor. Prince Hal regained his balance and glared at his younger brother. Prince Edward was some twelve years younger and fitter and it showed. Edward grinned and moved lightly on his feet. Hal's breathing labored and he knew he had to finish this soon. Both for his continued good health, and to avoid the chance their father, King Henry Islen, would discover them fighting again. Hal's mother, Beatrice, died when he was a toddler and although he was fond of Queen Mary; his half-brother was an evil weed in his life. Queen Mary was an Oswald, and it was no se
cret her brother, Charles Oswald, thought King Henry stole their father Norman's crown when their uncle Robert lost his grip on the throne. They overlooked the fact that Robert had tricked Norman out of the crown in the first place. Still, Charles Oswald proved a true friend to Hal, and Queen Mary always treated Hal with fairness and respect. King Henry trusted few people and his two sons were not part of that select company. Hal's son James had found his way to his grandfather's favor, but that did nothing to change the King's attitude toward Hal. The King had forbidden the brothers to fight as they oft did since Edward had reached his teens. Edward believed he was fit for the crown than Hal and lived his life accordingly. He was also acutely aware that Hal was the legal heir and looked for every opportunity to correct that fact. Now years later all it took was an empty corridor to spur them to blows and blades.
Hal preferred to keep to his castle in the north but King Henry summoned the Princes every spring to meet face to face. Hal took comfort that his own son, Prince James, was old enough to run the castle in his stead. Prince James was only a few years younger than his uncle, Edward.
"You shall not have the crown, Hal," Edward whispered. "You shall be in your grave."
"The crown comes to me, and James is my heir, not you. You shall never be king!"
They circled each other again and Hal nicked Edward's billowy sleeve but drew no blood. Edward moved forward and Hal suddenly moved sideways and cut Edward's shoulder. Edward jumped back, surprised by the wound, and then smiled.
"You are aging fast, Hal. Your strength fails even as Eslenda fails. You should have finished me when you had the chance. You cannot raise Eslenda back to where it belongs."
"And Father? How does he fit into your plans? He is the King."
"Not for long," Edward whispered, grinning his lopsided grin.
Hal feinted and then kicked at Edward's knee catching him in the shin, but he hopped out of range.
"Oh, now we change the tactics since our skills are inferior. You are crafty, Hal. Father misstates your abilities. But I too am crafty as you will learn." He grabbed a cup from the table tossing it in Hal's face and followed it with his knife. Hal hooked Edward's arm with his free one and drove his knee in Edward's stomach. He sliced Edward's shoulder again as Edward pushed him away. Edward pulled a second knife from his boot and threw it at Hal. It clipped Hal's ear as he ducked and Edward thundered into him. They both fell on the floor, Hal's knife falling from his hands. He gripped Edward's wrist keeping the knife from finding his throat. Edward's eyes bulged and watered from Hal's left hand choking him. They rolled over and back, and then Hal loosened his grip on his brother's throat and poked him in the eye. Edward howled and rolled off. Hal got to his feet.
"Got to keep an eye on me," said Hal.
Then Edward grinned without humor and lunged at Hal who barely dove out of reach, knocking over a table full of drinking cups. The noise filled the room and soon brought the thunder of boots toward them.
"We are found out," said Edward. "Lucky for you. Today I would have killed you."
"Your confidence has no basis. It will prove your undoing."
"And after you, James will die."
Hal tensed to attack again.
The door slammed open and the huge figure of Sir John Plucker entered the room with his blade leveled at them. He squinted at the Princes and shook his head.
"I might have known!" His voice thundered. His face flushed nearly as red as his bushy mustache. Behind him came King Henry, his face red, and his hand on his own sword. King Henry was tall and muscular but still slighter than his sons who dwarfed most people except for Sir John Plucker who stood nearly seven feet tall, and Lockwell, the wizard whose stooped form still reached six and a half feet. It was the King's presence that commanded men, and his anger flowed through his words.
"So it comes to this!" cried King Henry. "Dueling in my own castle! You are foolish, both of you. In this place, you set aside your differences! In this place you do not plot against each other! Shall I lock you up?"
"No, father," said Prince Hal, still trying to regain his breath.
Prince Edward shook his head. The King looked at his sons dressed in their finery for the feast with jagged rips in the material and traces of blood running down their limbs.
"Ruling a kingdom is a responsibility that neither of you exhibit the capacity for handling. I am molding Eslenda into a strong kingdom, one that will be an example to the world. Hal, you will continue my legacy when you are king. You must! What is a man but what his children make him? I am getting older and do not have as many years left as I would like. I want to believe Eslenda is in capable hands when I am gone. But you two continue to make it difficult for me. The whole world knows my sons are idiots. If either of you inherits my throne, Eslenda will fall within weeks!"
"I am more capable than you believe," said Edward through gritted teeth. "Even Hal has skills. You wound us, Father."
The King raised his arm as if to strike Edward, then lowered it and spat at Edward's boots.
"I don't think I wound you enough, Edward. You are blind to your faults. Thankfully, I am not. Plucker, make sure they reach their quarters with no more violence. Assign guards and keep them there until the feast and have your men escort them to the hall."
"Yes, sire," said Sir Plucker. The King stormed from the room.
"Lead on, Sir John," said Hal. "We shall go meekly." He cleaned his knife on his shirt and sheathed it. Plucker stared at Edward until he too had sheathed his knife. Two guards stood outside the room and fell in behind the Princes.
Plucker walked slowly through the corridors constantly peering back at the Princes as if he felt they would erupt in battle at any moment.
"Why do you crave the throne so much?" asked Hal. "Is it merely because you can't have it?"
"I will have it," said Edward. "You cannot tell me you don't want it? The power doesn't call you?"
"What if I let you have it. Would you allow me to live my life in my castle?"
"You want me to do that, don't you? Leave you alone with your plots and the assassin's knife will find me one night. Thus you get the crown and I get the grave. You give me the crown and a lifetime of jumping at shadows waiting for your blade. I think not. I will sleep sound with you dead."
"Edward, I think this preoccupation with the crown is an unhealthy one."
"Is that a threat?"
"Please, your Highnesses," said Plucker, turning back to them. "Do not start again. I would be obligated to thump you and drag you to your rooms."
"Thank you, Sir John," said Hal. "Your verbal imagery is received."
"Do you mock me, Prince Hal?" asked Plucker.
"No, no. I mock my brother and myself. We are the fools here."
"Speaking of fools?" From a darkened doorway jumped a short, ugly man, named Quink, the King's fool. He dressed in a snug red shirt with yellow trousers with a tight black cap tied under his chin. He wore a ceremonial dagger and carried a short staff cut to his size. His eyes were so pale blue they appeared white.
"How are the knights of the realm?"
"Go away, Quink," said Plucker. "I must escort the Princes' to their rooms."
"So I see, large fellow. Have they been plucking at each other again, Plucker? Are their blades as sharp as their wits?"
"Go away," said Edward sourly.
"Come to my room and talk to me," said Hal. "I'd like to catch up on the news here in Riverdowns."
"Do you have wine?" asked Quink. He hopped as he spoke.
"Of course. And Elizabeth will be glad to see you."
"Lead on, Sir Mucker!" cried Quink.
"Plucker, little man. It's Plucker. You still can't get it right after all these years?"
"My apologies, Ducker."
Plucker muttered under his breath and stopped at Edward's door. The Prince bowed to him and shot one last scowl at Hal before the door closed. Plucked stationed a guard at the door. Plucker led Hal away while Quink hummed to himself. Hal's quart
ers were in the south wing of the castle as far from Edward as King Henry could put Hal. The pounding of the huge boots of Plucker cleared the corridors ahead of them and they saw no one else. Plucker knocked on the door and a servant opened it to admit Hal and Quink.
"See you in a few hours," said Hal with a smile. Plucker smiled back and bowed. He motioned for a guard to remain. The remainder of the guards followed Plucker.
"What happened to you?" asked Princess Elizabeth, Hal's wife. She inspected the torn and bloody shirt.
"Just playing with his brother," smiled Quink.
"And how are you involved?" she asked Quink, her eyebrow raised.
"Just met them on the journey here, your Highness. I didn't even get to see the fight, poor me. Who entertains the fool in this castle, I ask you?"
"Hal, are you still a child? You know Edward wants the crown for himself. In every look, word, I don't know why Henry doesn't see it. Don't give in to his taunts. Besides, you're forty now, and Edward's twenty-eight. He has quickness on you."
"Princess, you are perceptive," said Quink. "I believe our Prince Hal believed he could charm Edward into submission. However we know his charms move as slow as he does, the pretty puppy."
Elizabeth was tall and dark, her eyes and hair brown. A fine archer, she had entered archery contests before her marriage. Hal advised her to keep practicing although they didn't speak of it to members of the court. She bore a son, James, while still in her teens and was still considered an attractive woman. However, her sharp mind aided Hal most and while the notion of being king wasn't his greatest yearning, he knew with Elizabeth beside him, anything was possible.
"And you, Sir Quink, are a rascal. What news from the court?" The Princess handed him a cup of wine. She had dismissed the servants and served her husband a cup as well.
"News? Something new at this backwater court? Or something at the back of this front water court, or do you mean what's on the menu?"
"What can you tell us without fouling your oath to King Henry?"
The Ghost Of Eslenda (Book 1) Page 3