In time. All in good time.
Eucádus placed a hand upon the hilt of his sword but did not draw the weapon. He looked at Ranen with deep sadness in his heart. Ranen, his raised sword catching rays of the setting sun, smiled arrogantly as the two men stood alone on the grassy banks of the Drusala River. The other soldiers near the garrison had fled north in pursuit of King Justin. Eucádus did not want to fight Ranen, but he knew that his mind, warped by Vellan’s magic, was focused on nothing else except a contest to the death.
“You threaten to kill me after all we’ve shared together as friends?” Eucádus asked, displaying neither fear nor intimidation. “Do you not recall your successes as leader of the Oak Clearing? For years, along with Jeremias, Uland and Torr, we fought against Vellan’s incursion into our homelands.”
“We were mistaken in our thinking,” Ranen replied. “And as you can see and hear from the distant fighting, those past efforts were in vain. Today Vellan will demonstrate his supremacy when your side is finally defeated.”
“That will not be the case.” Eucádus took a few steps closer until he could see the cloudy deadness in Ranen’s eyes. “I have not traveled this far just to let Vellan step on us like ants. If anyone is to taste defeat today, it will be his troops, though you, Ranen, need not be one of the casualties.” He took another step forward and held out his empty hands. “Lay down your arms. Leave this place. I will not pursue you.”
“I would never desert my leader!”
“Then come back to our side. Search deep in your thoughts. Remember your old life. You are not one of the people of Kargoth who are still breathing yet dead. We are both men of Harlow.”
Ranen smirked, amused by what he thought were the naïve utterances of a man without purpose and hope. “I no longer give my allegiance to Harlow, and if you had any sense, neither would you.” He stepped closer, his eyes fixed on Eucádus who stood in the shadow of the garrison wall. “But to be fair, I will extend a similar offer. Come to my side, Eucádus. Drink the waters of the Drusala to free your mind, to refocus your mind. See the world clearly for the first time in your pitiful existence.”
Eucádus sighed and shook his head, not hearing the slightest change in Ranen’s frame of mind. But deep down, he never expected that he would. “It appears my efforts here have been in vain.”
“Apparently so.”
“But if you will not listen to me, Ranen, at least think of your wife who waits for you back at the Clearing. She tore off the red piece of material that binds your hair from one of her favorite dresses. How can you forget such a loving gesture? Does not even that tender act stir up fond memories and make you want to reclaim your life?”
Ranen set the tip of his sword upon the grass and gazed curiously at Eucádus. “Despite a losing argument, you do tend to go on. But flailing words, or a piece of red material, can never compete with Vellan’s crystalline vision. Now let us do what we must.” He raised his weapon. “The time for talk is over.”
“I have no desire to do battle with you.”
“Good,” he replied. “Then it should take but a moment for me to finish you off!”
Ranen sprang forward. In that same instant, Eucádus drew his weapon, having expected nothing less than a fierce attack. Their blades clashed along the water's edge, the sharp metallic strikes echoing off the garrison wall. Agile footwork carried them eastward over the trampled grass closer to the stone bridge spanning the Drusala. Their view of the river opened up to the west, its mirrory surface shimmering red and gold from the setting sun. A bluish white glow rising just below the eastern horizon painted the water east of the bridge in cool shades of daylight, as if morning and night were in defiant competition on either side of the low, stone arches.
“You may as well give up, friend,” Eucádus taunted as the two men stepped back from one another to catch their breaths. “I’ve fought against you many times in practice and know your style of swordsmanship. You will not defeat me.”
“Ah, but I have since trained with Vellan’s finest,” Ranen confidently replied. “So prepare for some unexpected moves, friend.”
Eucádus signaled for him to advance. “And I’ll show you all I’ve learned from the brave warriors of Arrondale and elsewhere.”
Ranen rushed forward, his sword slicing through the air as each forceful strike met Eucádus’ blade with a ringing clash. The fight stretched out for long moments at a time with the combatants periodically stepping back to gather their strength. Yet neither seemed fully aware of their surroundings or the passage of time. But with stealthy finesse, Ranen carefully choreographed his steps so that the two men moved closer to the bridge with every few swipes of their swords. Eucádus, whose back was now to the river, appeared unmindful of the changing path of their fight even as he took his few first steps backward onto the stone bridge. Ranen kept his gaze fixed upon him as if not noticing the change of venue either. Eucádus offered a knowing grin, indicating that he had indeed been aware of his intention all along.
“Are you plotting to push me into the Drusala instead of killing me, Ranen?” he asked. “For that is the only way I would ever join your side in this ugly affair.”
“You’d make a worthy addition to Vellan’s army once your philosophy was properly adjusted. Something to consider in the few moments you have left to live,” he said with another forceful strike.
Eucádus fought back with equal vigor as they moved slowly across the bridge, circling one another at times or inching closer to the low stone rails on either side. As they neared the western edge, the last rays of the setting sun splashed upon their faces and up and down the deadly edges of their swords. Eucádus suddenly shifted to one side to avoid Ranen’s blade and swiftly countered, slicing deeply into his right wrist. Ranen’s arm involuntarily snapped backward, causing him to drop his sword and grab at the wound with his left hand. When he looked up, Eucádus was charging at him full bore to deliver a second, fatal strike. But just before he plunged his sword into Ranen’s chest, Eucádus tossed the weapon aside and dove upon his enemy, tackling him to the ground.
“I will not kill you, Ranen,” he said as he struggled on the stone with his former friend, “though you may deserve it!”
“You are a fool!” Ranen sputtered, ignoring his pain and fighting with renewed ferocity. “Giving up the advantage because of sentiment will be the death of you.”
“At least I am not already dead!” he shouted as they scuffled on the ground, trying to regain their footing.
In the commotion, Ranen landed a sharp elbow against Eucádus’ chest, disabling him long enough while he scrambled to his feet. Eucádus, though in pain, rolled to one side just as Ranen lunged at him. He quickly stood up and grabbed Ranen from behind who fought back like a wild animal, spinning swiftly around and freeing himself before shoving Eucádus backward against the west railing. He locked his hands around Eucádus’ neck, staring into his eyes with bitter contempt as he slowly choked him.
“Now you will learn what death is!” he cried as he pushed Eucádus’ head backward against the railing. “Unless you take this last chance to open your mind and join Vellan’s army.”
Eucádus, gasping for breath as Ranen’s fingers tightened around his neck, could see the flowing waters of the Drusala below, knowing that a plunge into the poisonous river would result in a fate worse than death. But as he locked gazes with Ranen, a faint smile formed upon his lips, causing Ranen to snarl with rage.
“So that is your answer? You would rather die?” he asked, maintaining his hold with mounting anger. “Well then, friend, I will abide by your wishes.” Ranen tightened his grip. “And the world will be a better place because of it!”
Nicholas looked at Mune with growing anxiety, eager to leave the mountain. “Forget about gathering any provisions. Take me to Ivy and Carmella.” He also wanted to find Tolapari to see if he could help Leo, though after hearing Caldurian’s grim words, he wondered if it might simply be an effort in futility. “We have to
go now!”
“We will,” Mune replied as an inscrutable smile grew beneath his sea gray eyes. “And I had no intention of rummaging though the pantry for your benefit. I just said that to Caldurian as an excuse to stay behind. I need to speak with you privately.”
“What?” Leo asked, eyeing the dagger at Mune’s side. “We don’t want trouble.”
“And you won’t get any if you hear me out,” he promised. “I just want to talk. Like Caldurian, I’m now ready to lay out my deal.”
“What are you talking about?” Nicholas asked. “We don’t have time for this!”
“If you want me to lead you safely out of Minakaris with your friends, then you’ll make time,” he replied, jabbing a finger in the air. “Now button up your mouths so I can explain myself, then we’ll be on our way.”
“Fine,” he said with a sigh. “Tell us what you want.”
“I need you to deliver a message to King Justin.”
“Are you serious?” Leo asked. “What could you possibly have to say to the King of Arrondale?”
“I’m hurt by that comment,” he replied, feigning indignation. He walked over to Vellan’s sleeping body and stared at it, his back to Nicholas and Leo. “Though I’m not a great wizard like him, I have made valuable contributions to recent events.”
“Deadly contributions,” Nicholas said. “What’s your point?”
Mune turned around. “My point is that I won’t be remaining here to act as some lackey for Caldurian. I’m fed up with this job which I’ve done for too many years at a wage far below my worth,” he crossly replied. “To tell you the truth, I’m fed up with Caldurian. And Vellan and Madeline, too! All of them are far too eager to dispense orders to me as if I were one of the Enâri, bred to do their bidding without question.”
“What’s that got to do with King Justin?” Nicholas asked.
“Plenty! I plan to start a new life far from here. I’m not sure where, but after all I’ve been through, I just want to be left alone.” He rubbed his temples, looking tired as he paced about the room. “I want to sleep late in a proper bed and eat meals at my leisure. For too many years I’ve followed others’ schedules, and frankly, I don’t have much to show for it, though I was promised plenty.”
Leo smirked. “Are we supposed to feel sorry for you, Mune? You’ve had a difficult life, poor soul, ruining other people’s lives.”
Mune bristled. “Think what you like, but I want a life free of complications–and that includes King Justin!” Nicholas looked at him, not quite sure of his point, but Leo immediately noted the man’s guilt-ridden expression and grasped his meaning.
“Fearful that you may have to pay for your ill deeds some day?” he asked. “King Justin probably has a list of your offenses as long as his arm.”
“I’m sure,” he uncomfortably replied, “including a particularly unsavory one.”
“Yes. Killing a member of the royal guard will probably land you in one of the King’s prison cells for the rest of your life,” Leo said. “Or maybe you’ll feel a noose around your neck instead.”
Mune paled as he contemplated the scenario, wishing he had never followed Leo to that upper chamber in the Citadel. “Though I know I deserve it, I’m afraid I might be hunted down after the war ends. The possibility will hang over me regardless where I go.”
“You could turn yourself in,” Nicholas suggested.
“And you could jump in the Drusala River!” he snapped. “But neither of those things is going to happen. That’s why I need you to deliver my message.”
“Which is…?”
“First, do you promise?” he asked, glaring at Nicholas. “If you want to see Ivy and escape this miserable mountain, promise you’ll deliver my message to the King himself.”
“I promise!” he shouted, more annoyed than angered. “How many times do I have to say it? Now get on with it so we can leave.”
Mune, suddenly calm and composed, walked over to Vellan’s body again and stared down upon it with a mix of fear and curiosity. “The message I need you to relay should forever absolve me of my crimes against Arrondale and all of Laparia. The King must realize that this message is being delivered at my behest.” He turned and faced them. “And, Nicholas–and I can’t emphasize this enough–but you must make him swear that he will pardon all my offenses and leave me alone until the end of my days.”
“I’ll try my best,” he said. “Now tell me the message already.”
“I’ll do better than that,” Mune replied. He slowly removed the dagger tucked behind his belt and knelt down at Vellan’s side. “I’ll show you.”
“What are you doing?” Nicholas asked in alarm as Mune placed the tip of his dagger a few inches above Vellan’s heart.
He looked up at Nicholas and Leo who appeared frozen in disbelief. “I am about to rid Laparia of a poison that has affected these lands for the last fifty years,” he calmly stated. “Caldurian was close to the right idea regarding Vellan’s fate, but he was either too timid or lacked the foresight to take it all the way to its logical conclusion. I, on the other hand, will get to the heart of the matter.”
“Mune, think about what you’re proposing,” Nicholas said, stepping forward. But when Mune raised the dagger higher, threatening to plunge it into Vellan that instant, Nicholas stopped, indicating that he would keep his distance. “Leave Vellan’s fate in the hands of King Justin and his fellow monarchs. It is not your place to decide.”
“Isn’t it?” he asked. “I have done some dreadful things at Vellan’s bidding. Is it not right that I should put an end to his terrible reign?” He chuckled nervously. “Who knows, but perhaps I’ll be praised for this deed. And when you tell King Justin what I did here today, how could that kindly old man not pardon me for my transgressions?”
“Nicholas is right,” Leo jumped in. “This decision is not yours. Besides, Vellan is a true wizard. None of us knows what will happen if you kill him. You’re playing with fire.”
Nicholas held out his hand. “Listen to Leo, Mune. Give me the knife,” he kindly requested. “When I deliver Caldurian’s letter to the King, I’ll tell him that you’re an equal part of the wizard’s proposal to hand over Vellan and are deserving of his pardon.”
Mune stared at the dagger as their words swirled in his mind. He looked at them askance. “You’d really do that? Or are you simply humoring me to get to your friends?”
“You have my word,” Nicholas said. “I’ll secure a promise from King Justin to leave you alone as a reward for your part in ending this war.” He immediately regretted the distasteful words he had uttered, but silently vowed to hold himself to that pledge. “I’ll even beg him to sign a royal decree to that effect. But you mustn’t do this deed. None of us know what will result. Please reconsider, Mune, and show us the way out.”
Mune gazed at them for several moments, contemplating their argument. He glanced at Vellan’s aged face, recalling the unsavory orders he had carried out in his name over the blur of passing years. But after countless miles of travel and unpleasant accommodations, all that he really wanted was to rest and be left alone. His desire to be in the thick of things and make a living from it had since gone cold.
“Mune, do you hear us?” Leo asked, slowly drawing back his attention.
“I’m listening,” he replied, sounding more at ease. His face and shoulders relaxed as if he had come to a final decision. “You two have given me a lot to think about,” he softly added as his hands slightly loosened their grip upon the dagger. “A lot.”
“Glad to hear it,” Nicholas said with a sense of relief. “Our idea is a good one.”
“It is,” Mune replied with a cordial smile. “It really is. But after some careful consideration, well, I still think mine is better.” With lightning swiftness, he raised the dagger high above the wizard’s body.
“Mune, don’t!” Nicholas shouted as a rush of cold blood raced to his heart.
His warning went unheeded. Mune plunged the dagger i
nto Vellan’s chest with all his might as a burst of searing pain shot up his arms. The wizard’s eyelids popped open. His eyes darted back and forth as if seeking out the perpetrator of such a ghastly and traitorous act. Mune thought he was going to die when Vellan’s gaze finally locked onto him while he still clutched the dagger. He stared back in paralyzed terror, trembling and mumbling a silent apology during what he expected to be his final seconds alive. Suddenly, the brief flash of light and liveliness in Vellan’s eyes faded. His eyelids closed again for the last time. The remaining dab of color leached out from his cheeks as a final breath was unceremoniously expelled from his lungs. The wizard of Mount Minakaris was dead.
“Leave at once!”
Nicholas, mesmerized by what had just happened, turned to Leo. “What’d you say?”
“Hmmm?” Leo replied as if in a daze himself, unable to take his eyes off Vellan’s corpse. “I didn’t say anything.”
“Flee to safety!”
Nicholas heard the voice again, a commanding whisper that sounded vaguely familiar. “Did you hear it?” he asked, realizing that Leo had not spoken those words.
“Hear what?” he asked. But Nicholas’ question was forgotten when Leo cringed and pointed at Mune who had just removed the bloodstained dagger from Vellan’s body. “What are you doing?”
“Preparing my message,” Mune said, his voice chillingly calm. He meticulously wiped off most of the blood from the sharp blade using the folds of Vellan’s robes. He then reached over and pulled off the dark gray cloth cap from the wizard’s head. With almost a sense of reverence, Mune wrapped the knife in the soft material and looked up at Nicholas. “I left a little blood for show.” He slowly got to his feet, trembling. He walked over to Nicholas and handed him the head covering.
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