“I tried to save him,” she said softly as Dril’ead began making his careful way down the passage with Fustua in his arms. “I tried and I failed. This is my curse. This is my life.”
“Such things happen when in combat,” Dril’ead said, his voice echoing up the passage to where she stood still by the water. The path turned to the right as it sloped gently down from the waterway, and Juanna, after picking up her duel scimitars, reluctantly turned from the water to follow his lead.
“Razarr is a dear friend of mine, and is the chief of my people’s militia,” Dril began reflectively. “He told me of a time when he and several other patrol officers went to search out a nearby cavern, the report of horgs harboring in such places having spread to the concerned interest of my grandfather, and he and those others went out to satisfy the concerns of their aristocracy. However, no horgs or trolls were stationed in those caverns as was thought. Rather there was a large nest of spiders forming their webs among the stalactites, and before Razarr and his company realized their eminent danger, the spiders descended upon them and encircled them in a net of the sticky substance.
“He relayed to me a tremendous battle against the terrible monsters, in which conflict he lost two of his dear comrades. The spiders eventually retreated, being no match against the adamant blades that cut at them, and those wielding such weapons were greatly skilled in the art of melee. So the awful creatures dispersed, but left behind two dead Vulzdagg’s for their companions to mourn and lament over. Razarr told me of his great anguish and pain, looking upon his fallen companions as if it were he who had slain them. He told me he had the chance to save them, but was too slow. He said he could have saved them, but was too busy saving himself. He made me promise never to leave a comrade to die, or abandon anyone for my own sake. If you can save them, save them; he said.”
Dril stopped as he heard a quiet moan behind him, as of someone struggling to stifle a cry. He felt awful for what the stranger behind him must be going through at that moment, and also for his failure to comfort her. He tried to think of something warm to say, something that might touch the fighter in a way that could raise her spirits. But there was nothing he could say. His life, his past and what appeared to be his present, was full of grief and despair.
In Dril’ead’s memory all he could see were many faces of friends and family, fellow fighters he had never had the privilege to meet before watching them die on the field of battle. Without warning, or with any thought to it, Dril felt a cold tear escape his eye and run down his cheek, wondering could he have made the past a happy experience? For all he could tell, it was all lost and never to be seen again. He would never see Neth’tek, his brother and student, again.
Dril stopped suddenly, and stood motionless as his eyes seemed to have picked up movement in the infrared spectrum before him. Looking down into the silent face of Fustua in his arms Dril saw that his eyes had opened, staring up and the ceiling in blank confusion. His breathing was no longer laborious or raspy, but came from his throat in smooth exhales and inhales.
“Your friend recovers fast,” Dril remarked over his shoulder, seeing Juanna stop and watch him curiously.
Juanna wasn’t looking at Dril’ead, but stared steadily at the passage before them. Something had moved among the infrared darkness, and though neither of them could say what it was, Juanna felt a disturbing sensation run the length of her spine in a cold shiver. A monster, horg or element, stood before them in a hidden crevice somewhere along the wall.
Suddenly, as Dril’ead looked at her over his shoulder, she leapt forward and raced down the passage toward him. In her eyes a sudden rage exploded, and Dril was startled out of his senses by enraged the fighter running toward him with readied weapons. He did not see what Juanna saw pass through the shadows in front of them, and so he could no comprehend what followed next as Juanna screamed at him to move aside!
Dril turned in time to see the steel of a sword swing at his head, and he dropped onto one knee as the sword passed where his neck had once been perfectly aligned to its edge. The blade crashed into the wall of the passage beside him, and the sound of the metals impact against the stone continued to ring in his ears even as Juanna fell upon his assailant in a furious clash.
He stayed on his knee, bowing over the elf in his arms, and listened intently to the grunts and clashes of sword against sword beside him. The sounds of stumbling feet soon resided, ending with a low groan before a hollow thump as a body fell in the passage. Dril looked up and saw Juanna race down the tunnel and stop where it bent sharply to the left, and looked with a solid expression at what lay beyond and out of his sight.
She turned from the passage, coming swiftly back to where Dril was slowly rising from his position, and cried aloud saying, “This way is blocked!”
Shouts of angry exclamation erupted from the passage before them, voices mingling in a way that Dril could not tell who it was that stood in their way. He looked down at the corpse lying in a pool of blood beside him, and there he recognized the features and appearances of a Follower of Swildagg.
“There is another way!” Juanna called to him from the top of the passage, drawing him from his puzzling observances. “Come to me, Dril’ead Vulzdagg, there is another way!”
As Dril turned Fustua, now coming back to his senses, grabbed Dril by the arm. “Where is Juanna?” he demanded, looking directly into Dril’ead’s eyes.
Dril turned and raced up the passage as one after another Swildagg charged into the path they were taking, and went as quickly as he could after Juanna. “She is here and safe!” he said to Fustua, and that seemed to ease the fighter slightly.
“What is happening?” Fustua asked.
“Now is not the time for questions!” Dril said firmly as he came back into the place he had found the Grundagg’s, and standing in the glowing water was Juanna with swords in either hand.
Juanna looked at Fustua and her expression brightened. “Put him down,” she told Dril’ead. “We’ll move faster without having to carry any burdens.”
“I can walk,” Fustua assured Dril’ead. “I feel just as strong as any other day, if not more so. It seems that blast was full of an energy I could not at that time take in, but now I am fine.”
Dril released him onto his feet, steadying him as his knees bent beneath his own weight. “I’m fine,” Fustua told them, and looking down the passage he figured Juanna intended to go he said, “Let us go!”
“You two go alone,” Dril said to them, “They will follow unless I stay behind to stop them.”
Juanna looked at him skeptically, and opened her mouth to protest when Dril cut her off by saying, “I know what I am doing. Now go, back to your city! Tell your lord and lady that Swildagg is an enemy to the Urden’Dagg and therefore all of its Branches!” and turning round Dril withdrew his scimitar as the first of the assailant came up the path.
“You heard him,” Fustua said to Juanna, “We must warn our people of this treachery!”
Juanna turned and dashed up the stream. She stopped and looked back as Fustua passed on ahead before stopping himself, and he cried for Juanna to follow. Juanna, though, watched as Dril’ead cast aside the first of the Swildagg soldiers and turned upon the next. She waited for any sign that would assure her of the Vulzdagg’s safety, and that he would last through his fight. Dril just kept fighting them off with even thrusts and parries, and so she followed Fustua up the passage and away from there.
10
Treachery or Loyalty
Nel’ead Swildagg anxiously paced the length of his chamber, his mind lost deep in its own contemplations, his eyes swollen after a long night without rest. His mind would not allow rest, and already the rumors of his anxiety of late was spreading throughout the compound of Swildagg, and the people began to keep further distances as their troubled lord passed them by. He did not notice, and he would not care if he ever did take heed of their glances and whisperings. He was the lord of Swildagg, his word was their command, or so he
had convinced himself over countless sleepless nights of unending thought.
Alastra Swildagg was beginning to seize his power, slowly taking his wants and wishes and making them her commands, until recently she outright made the decisions for him. Dril’ead Vulzdagg was dead because of his weakness to her will, slain by the very hand of a demon of the Lesser Realm, summoned by Tyla under Alastra’s authority alone, and no doubt the entire Branch of Vulzdagg was to crumble next. It seemed lady Eldrean Swildagg had given her ruling authority to Alastra at last, and Alastra was doing whatever she could to abuse that power before the faces of her people, her family, and the Urden’Dagg Tree. But, from what the demon had told them itself, the Urden’Dagg had sold them all into the hands of one Shadow Queen.
Nel’ead turned round as he reached the far wall, spinning on his toes as he went back toward the opposing wall for the twentieth time that night. There seemed no other choice but to follow this new deity that had come into their midst, the Shadow Queen, or else be a traitor to it and therefore his people. And, as he had told himself many times since his father’s death, he could not abandon his people. If there was one thing keeping them from their waiting destruction, Alastra’s every action threatening such things to come; it was Nel’ead’s persistent stubbornness to her foolish desires.
“I do not want this,” he growled under his breath as he walked, and then turned, and then marched across his chamber again. “I never wanted this. All I wanted was my people to be secure, safe from the threat of Vulzdagg. However, it turns out the real threat was within my very courtroom, pushing me forward to deliver the first blow so that any blame would be on me alone. Only, now that it has happened, I realize it all too late . . . Swildagg is forfeit!”
He stopped suddenly as he noticed Alastra herself standing in his doorway, arms crossed over her chest as she watched him with an amused expression. “An enemy, you say, is within our courtroom?” She grinned widely, displaying perfect teeth of pure white against a face of smooth, pale skin.
She came forward into his room and stood before him, her arms now resting on the hilts of her two adamant scimitars. Nel’ead took careful note of the menacing fire in her eyes, gleaming like a torch in a dark cavern, and he struggled to maintain his solid position against her.
“Yes,” he said indignantly, “and I was a fool to pass it by unheeded.”
“Ah,” Alastra said as her smile broadened, “unheeded you say? Unheeded indeed if you are so much a fool as to allow its happening! Why, brother, do you torture yourself so? It is far from your strength and power to heed, or react at all to what you heed, and save what is no more.”
Nel’ead grimaced. “You are a threat to this people! You treacherous creature, you killed the lord of Vulzdagg, using justice as your excuse! Well, justice will not accept such an excuse.”
“Who are you to deny me my right as a noble of Swildagg? Swildagg blood runs in my veins just as well as yours,” said Alastra. “The justice is mine to give to whom I choose, just as well as it is yours. No one here is keeping you back.”
Nel’ead raised a finger as if to accuse her, but turned instead and threw up his fists in frustration. He groaned aloud in pain, saying behind clenched teeth, “You are a threat!”
“If I am so much a threat than perhaps you should slay me,” Alastra said to him, her face now stern. “Out of treachery or loyalty to your people, Nel’ead, the choice is yours to act. But my blood on your blades may save this people from whatever threat I cause them, however it may also place you as the threat in my stead. Would you destroy an enemy to become one yourself?”
Nel’ead turned on her in wrath, lifting his fist as if to smite her, but he froze as he met her even and unyielding eyes. They held him in contempt, and he held her likewise, and face to face they stood as stubborn rivals of one another. Neither of them bent this way or that to the other, although somehow the others plan came into being. It was a frustrating duel between two nobles, both grasping for equal power. It was a poison in their blood.
Nel’ead snarled in her face; however he kept his fist motionless in the air. “You know I would,” he growled at her, “You know I’d cause treachery to my own people to throw you down. It is in my power, but blood will be on my hands alone to do it.” He lowered his arm back to his side, and stood staring into her eyes.
“Indeed it would,” Alastra said, and she smiled suddenly. “That is why some of us, those who have something to prove, are not afraid of such droplets of blood. Vulzdagg, as you know and have said many times and convinced us, is a threat to this people. Actions involving blood must be executed to ensure our security beneath the rule of the Shadow Queen, whose demands have been for the subjection of all The Fallen in the Shadow Realms. We are the first to subject ourselves, and so we are blessed in her sight.”
“Or cursed,” he said beneath a low breath.
Alastra eyed him narrowly as she said, “Be careful what you say, brother, or it will be your existing life threatening our people.”
“Idle threats do not sway me.”
“Who, then, is giving the idle threat?” She grinned faintly, a taunting look in her eye. “Treachery or loyalty, Nel’ead, I will be exterminating Vulzdagg for your own sake. Argue all you want, but remember that this is what you wanted.” And with that she turned from him and walked from his chamber, her hands still resting on the hilts of her scimitars.
“I never wanted this,” he growled under his breath as she left.
Nel’ead thought it as a noose being tightened round a throat, the face of the damned concealed behind a mask yet to be removed. When it was removed, and whosoever was to hang was revealed, Nel’ead feared it would be his guilty face set before the crowd of his people. He could not betray them and destroy his sister, no matter how terrible her actions might cost them. The guilt, the shame and the sacrifice, would prove too much for him to bear alone.
Nel’ead Swildagg was weak, and could not carry his own glory.
He walked from his chamber into the passage connecting the separate quarters of his family members, and looking down the narrow hall to his left he saw Alastra disappear behind the doors into the Circle of Power. Whatever she was doing it couldn’t be good for him or his people, though he didn’t dare find it out yet. Instead he turned the other way and walked to the door of Jastrum, whom he knew to be infuriated by the actions of Vulzdagg in murdering their father, and beat on the door before waiting patiently for an answer.
Jastrum did not come to his door, nor did any servant or guard. He waited for a minute or so before taking the knob, and turning it he swung the door inward to look into his brothers abandoned room. It was empty, both Jastrum and his armor and weapons were missing.
For several extended moments Nel’ead stood in upright position, staring into the infrared spectrum of his chamber, wondering on an awful explanation for Jastrum’s absence.
Could he have – no, Jastrum watches the borders at around this time of the day, patrolling with his soldiers… But that does not disregard the idea that he might have gone with the soldiers to… No! He couldn’t! He wouldn’t! Unless… Nel’ead turned from the door, letting it slam closed behind him as he marched down the passage, laying a hard slap against each door as he passed it on his way to the Circle of Power.
He stopped at the doors to the Circle of Power and looked back, and saw none of his noble family members had come to answer his call to them. That left the lord of Swildagg with only one possible explanation, and he turned and swung open the doors to demand the reason from Alastra, whom he guessed without a doubt, had something to do with it.
Alastra stood in a circle connected to the Circle of Power, looking up into the orb containing the faces of the lord and lady of Grundagg. Wrath came into Nel’ead’s conscious being, and he strode forward determinately to stand in a circle aside from Alastra, and listened to what Hundarr was saying.
“If what you say is true, if the Urden’Dagg has delivered us into the hands of a Shadow Quee
n and commands that we do her bidding as we had its, than Grundagg will stand at your side,” said Hundarr, and the lady of Grundagg was nodding beside him.
“It appears the only sensible thing to do,” Alastra said, seeming to ignore Nel’ead’s approach.
“Ah, is this lord Nel’ead Swildagg?” Hundarr said, turning to Nel’ead. “I must congratulate you, lord Swildagg. You will prove a great leader and benefit to your people.”
Nel’ead nodded sharply at his remark, but said nothing. Alastra, however, spoke for him. “Forgive my brother, for he is troubled by the pressing matters of our people at this time. It is not easy switching our subjection unto another being that he is unfamiliar with, but in time we will be in good shape.” She reached to the side and put a hand on his shoulder, and Nel’ead subconsciously flinched at the gesture. “In time,” she repeated to him.
“What of Vulzdagg?” lady Grundagg put in suddenly.
“What of Vulzdagg?” Nel’ead said suddenly and abruptly.
“Are they following your mighty example?” lady Grundagg asked.
“We are afraid they are not,” Alastra replied, cutting off anything Nel’ead might have said. “They refuse, again, to face submission. I fear that the Shadow Queen will not take kindly to their refusal of her power here.”
“We fear the same,” Hundarr said. “It will undoubtedly end the same as the unspoken city of Hulmir; of which the Urden’Dagg ordered destroyed so long ago under the same circumstances. Do you suppose the Shadow Queen will demand retribution upon Vulzdagg?”
“There is no question about it, my lord and lady,” Alastra said. “Already my mother has sent a proclamation across this realm for all creatures to bow themselves before the Shadow Queen, or else face such retribution. I suggest you ready your captains for her arrival.”
“Already in the process,” Hundarr wondered aloud, and at his side lady Grundagg said, “How long, do you suspect, until action must be taken against Vulzdagg.”
Passage to Glory: Part Two of the Redemption Cycle Page 11