Nicholas Raven and the Wizards' Web (The Complete Epic Fantasy)

by Thomas J. Prestopnik

  “Melinas and Zaracosa would still be important administrative cities in the new kingdom,” Victor added. “As King and Queen, we would install a governor in each location to assist us in overseeing the northern provinces on both sides of the lake. Melinda and I could use someone of your talents in such a position, Silas. Though an official appointment would be months away, I’d ask you to think about it while we go about repairing our respective kingdoms.”

  “Please do,” Melinda said.

  “I’m very honored by your offer and will certainly consider it,” he replied. “But in the meantime, Prince Victor, I am simply happy to be a captain in your army, here to do your bidding.”

  “In that case, I would request that you continue overseeing affairs in Melinas until I return across the lake,” he said. “I shall remain here for a couple more weeks to recuperate and to develop our proposal with some of Melinda’s closest ministers. And I shall give you a list of some of my father’s sagest advisors for you to put on a ship and send here to join our discussions. It will be quite a few hectic months ahead of us.”

  “The prospect of New Maranac coming to fruition will be a dream come true,” Melinda said. “At last the people’s nation will be restored to the people instead of serving as a plaything for the likes of my uncle and outsiders like Vellan. But thankfully, Drogin and his collaborators are no longer a threat.” She sighed distractedly, enduring one of those moments of doubt and melancholy that she had referred to earlier before looking up with a smile. “Victor, we should join the others for lunch before they are finished. Captain Silas, I’m sure, is hungry after his passage across the lake.”

  “The captain and I will catch up with you shortly, my dear,” he said as he grabbed his cane and stood up. “Silas can walk with me while I hobble along, and hopefully in that time I can convince him to take the governor’s post in Melinas.”

  “Of course,” Melinda replied, kissing him on the cheek before she left the room to join the others, her mood cheerful and light.

  “She’s an amazing woman,” Victor said as he and Captain Silas strolled down a corridor and then up two flights of stairs, taking a brief detour along the way to the dining room. “Yet she will forever endure the pain of losing her parents by Drogin’s hand. It was an evil act I don’t think she can ever fully forgive, nor will many in Zaracosa or throughout Maranac.” The prince led Silas to an arched window looking east and unlocked a latch, swinging the glass panel outward.

  “Why are we here?” he asked.

  “Drogin and his men were despised for what they did, and after they were killed, some in the ministry thought that public anger would follow them to their graves in the form of desecration,” Victor explained. “Others believed that neither Drogin nor his associates were fit to be buried within the borders of Zaracosa–or in Maranac itself–for their hideous crimes. I agreed with both points of view.”

  “So what was done with their bodies?” Silas asked. He peered out the window to a spot Victor pointed to several miles away. The captain blinked a few times, trying to distinguish a faint flurry of tiny dark shapes fluttering against the milky gray sky.

  “The corpses were loaded onto a cart at night and deposited on a strip of wasteland just beyond the tips of those distant pine trees, left to the mercy of the elements.” Victor looked up, his eyes glazed with weary sadness. “A proper fate, I suppose.”

  “No doubt,” Silas agreed, glancing at him before returning his gaze outside the window where the drifting black images slowly came into focus. Though he was too far away to hear their calls, Captain Silas could now clearly see a flock of vultures circling on the warm currents of air beyond the pine trees. Their talons were razor sharp and their wings extended in graceful flight high above the barren wasteland miles outside the city where they fed.

  Captain Silas ordered the five ships back to Melinas the following morning, though this time they were bearing the flags of Rhiál which Princess Melinda had requested as a sign of the enduring friendship between the two kingdoms. And though the vessels were technically the spoils of war and now belonged to Rhiál, Prince Victor told his fiancée that Silas would only borrow the ships for their journey back and would return them to Zaracosa in short order.

  “But when our kingdoms are reunited, it won’t matter where the vessels are docked,” Melinda replied as she and Victor watched the ships sail away across the sunny waters from an upper window of the estate. “They will be the ships of New Maranac then, each flying a brand new flag. It will be a wonderful day if that happens.”

  “When that happens,” he replied, his arm wrapped lovingly around her waist as he leaned in to kiss her. “When that happens.”

  King Justin, King Cedric, Eucádus and their respective troops departed Melinas three days later on the twentieth day of Old Autumn. They said their goodbyes to Captain Silas and promised to send word in plenty of time so he or his representatives could attend the winter war council in Morrenwood.

  “Both Rhiál and Maranac will want to be part of an offensive against Vellan after what he has done to our nations through Drogin’s hand,” the captain said with a grim smile. “Save us a few seats at the table.”

  Some of the visiting troops agreed to stay behind for a short while to assist with the postwar efforts. Buildings were in need of repair, wounded soldiers required tending to, and the food stores that Drogin had hoarded in the south had to be distributed among the provinces on both sides of the water before winter arrived.

  The air was brisk and the skies a brilliant shade of blue when the two Kings and Eucádus led the first line of troops west along the road back home. All were happy to be leaving without the baggage of haste and anxiety that had accompanied them on their eastward trek. But now all three men carried the indelible memories of those who had died in battle and the resultant heartache and melancholy. It was the heaviest of weights upon their hearts which they would take with them to their graves.

  Ramsey and Captain Tiber led another line of men as did Ranen, Uland and Torr. Ramsey questioned Tiber extensively about Drumaya’s military and his ideas for a spring offensive against Vellan as they traveled along the road like two old friends. The latter trio of Clearing leaders simply talked about Jeremias during the first few miles of their return trip, shedding tears and laughing aloud during some of their reminiscences, yet knowing how crushed his wife and the other residents of the Fox Clearing would be once they learned of his passing. None looked forward to breaking the tragic news.

  When morning dawned two days later, they broke camp and continued eastward along the Kincarin Plains, having passed through the gap between the northern and southern branches of the Ridloe Mountains the previous day. When noon arrived, the several armies prepared to split and travel in different directions. King Cedric and Eucádus would continue to lead the troops of Drumaya and the mountain nations, veering southwest and making for the southern tip of the Bressan Woods. They would cross the Swift River just beyond the forest to the village of Wynhall and then march north to Grantwick.

  “Though I had never expected to return to the Ebrean Forest,” Eucádus said, “our forces will go back to the Five Clearings to spend the winter until our last stand against Vellan. We’ll be in regular contact with King Cedric throughout the cold months to develop our strategy. After that, I suppose, we will either find victory in our attempt or perish in the effort.”

  “But we will aim for victory,” Ranen added with an encouraging smile, the red strip of cloth in his hair blazing in the sunlight. “Then we can move our families out of the Ebrean and back to our homelands. It will be a glorious day if that happens.”

  “When that happens,” Prince William replied with a melancholy grin as he bid his friends a temporary farewell. He would return to Morrenwood with King Justin, there awaiting any news from Montavia.

  “My emissaries will be in contact with you, my friend, until the day of the next war council,” King Cedric said to King Justin as they shook hands. “I
will travel to the Blue Citadel this time where we can make plans to extract Vellan from his stronghold in Del Norác like a rotten tooth,” he added with a wink to Prince William.

  “I look forward to our next meeting,” King Justin replied as he wished everyone safe travels. “It will be a less dreary winter when all of you–who I now consider dear friends and staunch allies–again grace the corridors of the Citadel. So until then…” He offered a cordial nod before turning around on his steed and directing his troops to the northwest for the final leg of the long road home.

  The King’s path would take them between the Red Mountains and Lake Lasko, covering the same terrain that William and Brendan had traveled weeks ago. They would continue north above the lake along the Pine River to the southern border of Arrondale and then onward to the capital city. King Justin longed to look upon the granite face of the Blue Citadel awash in a soft vermilion glow of the setting sun and framed by fragrant pines of deep green towering along the rushing waters of the Edelin River. But even more so, he couldn’t wait to hug his granddaughter and hear any word of his son’s military campaign in Montavia and of Nicholas and Leo’s journey to Wolf Lake. Right now he could only wonder what news would greet him upon his return, his thoughts running the gamut from success to disappointment and back again as day slowly turned into another restless night.

  The army of Arrondale moved steadily northward for the next several days as the temperatures dipped a little more each night. The skies turned iron gray and remained so for the rest of the journey, hinting of an impending snowfall. On the seventh day since the forces of Drumaya and Arrondale had separated, King Justin was nearly granted his entire wish when he looked upon the Blue Citadel from afar as it stood proudly among the snow-dusted pines in the waning light of day. Flickering beams of sunlight escaped through a tear in the clouds and softly brushed against the granite blocks on the southwest corner of the building, but only for a few moments. When the King and the forward lines finally entered Morrenwood, the clouds had mended. The lingering daylight quickly faded as a deep, purple twilight wrapped itself around the sleepy landscape.

  A light flurry of snow danced in the air. Few of the citizens of Morrenwood were outdoors to greet the arrivals, but word swiftly spread that the troops had returned from war. Soon doors opened and citizens poured out of their homes. There would be much celebrating and tear-filled mourning into the late hours of night. As families reunited, houses along the city streets and throughout the countryside glowed with warm, yellow light as sweetly scented wood smoke escaped from chimneys into the frosty air. On this first day of New Winter, the long-absent army had at last arrived.

  As the lines of troops, horses and supply wagons slowly made their way along the roads and into the city, many of the locals watched and cheered the returning soldiers, thanking them profusely for their service. One man, however, silently observed the commotion from the window of a nearby inn where he had been staying for the past several days. He quickly slipped on a heavy brown coat, paid his bill at the front desk and then hurried out into the cold night. He untied his horse from the side stables and galloped north out of town, crossing a bridge over the Edelin River and heading deeper into the Trent Hills. He blended into the darkness, eager to report to his superiors about King Justin’s triumphant return.

  CHAPTER 70

  On the Eve of Vast Possibilities

  Princess Megan greeted her grandfather in the large hall at the front entrance of the Blue Citadel, giving him a long hug as tears rolled down her smiling face. She wore a pale green dress with a fur-lined wrap upon her shoulders to keep off the wintry chill. When she saw Prince William standing among the men who had accompanied the King, she burst out in a smile and hugged him as if he were her younger brother, happy to see him safe and sound.

  “Where have you been all this time?” she asked with a mix of joy and relief. “After Grandfather left for Rhiál, my father sent out additional scouts to search for you and Brendan after the first teams came back empty-handed, but they had no success either.”

  “I’ve been to more places than I care to remember,” William replied with a weary grin. “But I promise to fill you in on the details soon, Princess Megan. It’s a long story.”

  “I look forward to it,” she replied, scanning the small crowd. “And where is that brother of yours? Where’s Brendan?”

  He gazed uncomfortably at Megan before looking askance at the King, searching for the appropriate words though not in the mood to address the painful subject just now. King Justin swiftly jumped in.

  “That is also a long story, Megan, which we can talk about over a meal in private,” he said. “Is Nedry around? There are a few matters I’d like to discuss with him, too.”

  Megan glanced at him knowingly, certain he was eager for any information about Nicholas and Leo. “I shall find him at once, sir, and see to it that Nedry and a hot supper are brought to one of your private rooms.”

  “Thank you, my dear,” he kindly replied. “In the meantime, Prince William and I will speak briefly with my captains before I dismiss them for their own well deserved meals. We shall join you and Nedry upstairs in less than one hour.”

  “I look forward to it. And welcome back, Grandfather,” she replied, kissing him on the cheek before hurrying across a stone floor and disappearing down an adjoining corridor. She had much news to tell her grandfather and couldn’t wait for the next hour to pass.

  A round table in a private study had been set with five place settings and laden with food–a large tureen of steaming sweet potato and carrot soup, a plate of fried sausage and mushrooms and a bowl of herb biscuits. The kitchen staff had also prepared a jug of wine, a pot of hot cinnamon tea, a plate of cheese and a small bowl of fresh butter. A crackling blaze danced in a fireplace where two people quietly conversed upon the hearth while seated on a set of wooden chairs. The room’s only window, opposite the fire, looked out upon the nighttime sky subtly awash in the faint glow of the Bear Moon, just past first quarter and shyly hiding behind a mass of inky clouds.

  Nedry rushed into the room moments later, fearing he had been late. He smiled when seeing the table had been set but not yet occupied. His long, gray hair was somewhat frazzled after another hectic day of tending to his official duties, his thin face sculpted with lines of worry and fatigue. He was bundled in several layers of clothing as was his habit during the colder months in Morrenwood.

  “Ah, good evening, Princess Megan,” he said, noticing her near the fireplace. “I received your message but apologize for not having had a chance to meet with you earlier. Meetings and such.”

  “No need to apologize, Nedry,” she replied as she and the other individual ceased talking and stood to greet him.

  “And good evening to you, Leo,” he added, greeting the young man who stood protectively at Megan’s side.

  “Hello, Nedry,” he said.

  “I’m glad you’ll be joining us. But who is the fifth?” he asked Princess Megan, indicating the place settings on the table. “Your messenger had only indicated that King Justin requested my presence here tonight.”

  “Oh, with him will be–” But Megan didn’t get a chance to finish her sentence when the door opened. King Justin stepped into the study with William by his side.

  “Prince William!” Nedry exclaimed when he turned around, his obvious excitement wrapped in a mantle of disbelief. “I never expected to see you here, though I’m beyond happy that you are.” He hurried over to the prince and flung his arms around the boy’s shoulders as if he were his long-lost grandson. “It does my heart good to see you again,” he muttered on the verge of sobbing, his face buried in the crook of his arm. He released William and stood back, glancing at him with concern. “But where is Prince Brendan?”

  “I’ll tell you shortly,” William replied, taken aback by Nedry’s demonstrative greeting since he was only vaguely acquainted with the King’s top advisor.

  “Shall we have supper first?” Megan chimed in
. “I’m sure you’re all famished after your journey.”

  “I’m sure our journey will not compare to yours,” King Justin said with an appreciative smile when he saw Leo. He stepped forward and greeted him with a firm handshake and a welcoming slap upon the shoulder. “I am beyond relieved and grateful to see you back safe in the Citadel, Leo.” He glanced around the room and his smile faded. “But where is Nicholas?”

  “We seem to have more questions here than answers,” Megan said as she directed everyone to the table. “Let us eat while we discuss these various adventures and put our minds at ease. Grandfather, perhaps you should give an account of the war in Rhiál first, which, I assume by your very presence here, went well. Then maybe William can tell us how he returned with your army when he had left on his own many days before.”

  After Megan ladled out soup into their bowls and everyone began to eat, King Justin gave a brief account of Rhiál’s victory over Maranac, including King Basil’s death and the surprise reappearance of Princess Melinda and Prince Victor. With a hint of unease, he turned over the conversation to Prince William who quietly told how he and his brother had left the Blue Citadel, ostensibly for a few days of adventure in the countryside that turned into a harrowing journey inside the Ebrean Forest. Megan, Leo and Nedry were shocked and saddened to learn of Brendan’s death and offered their condolences.

  “I still find it difficult to believe what had happened,” William softly said as he stared at his plate. “But I’m beginning to get used to it for what that’s worth, and thank you for your kind words.” He looked up with a trace of a smile though his eyes were weighed down with a perpetual and weary despondency. He and the others noticed that Nedry had lowered his eyes and cupped his chin in one hand, shaking his head continually, embroiled in emotional agony.