by CK Dawn
He may have looked young, but the way his body moved was like that of an old man. Years of torment did that to a person.
King Calis Beirne looked on as his old friend took a heavy boot to the stomach in silence. The thud of contact echoed around the stone chamber, but Ramsey only closed his eyes and curled his legs up as best he could. He’d learned quickly – protect your weakest points.
Calis liked a fast learner.
The King held up a hand, his fingers curled into a fist. The man delivering crushing blows to the Tri-Gard member stopped immediately and stepped back.
Ramsey slowly uncurled himself as the King walked towards him. His eyes opened as much as they could. The day before, he’d taken a blow to the face and the area around his right eye was swollen and bruised.
Calis glanced down at his bruised knuckles. When he decided to issue punishments himself, he usually only used his magic, but Ramsey had looked at him with those familiar eyes and he’d lost it.
He’d had the man in his dungeon for twenty years and his rage still burned hot from the betrayal. Ramsey’s family had once been loyal. It had been because of him that the Tri-Gard obeyed the King’s commands. He’d convinced them to strip Dreach-Sciene of magic.
And in repayment, the King had imprisoned him, tormented him.
After performing the rite that drained the magic, the other two members of the Tri-Gard fled, destroying his dream of complete control. Without them, he couldn’t finish off Dreach-Sciene for good. He could only keep them at bay since the moment he stepped into that realm, he wouldn’t have magic at his disposal. The best he could do was keep Ramsey until he found the others once again.
“I hope you’re having a pleasant day, Ramsey,” Calis drawled.
Ramsey tried to push himself into a seated position, but Calis flicked his hand, sending a rush of power towards the weakened man, and he was flattened to the ground, gasping for air.
He used to ask daily why the King – who was once his friend and ally – was doing this to him. Those questions stopped many years ago, and it was partially because the answers were plain.
A smile curved up the corners of the King’s thin lips and he nodded at his men to leave them alone. Once the heavy iron door shut behind them, Calis walked forward and crouched down.
“I do this for your own good, my friend.”
Ramsey looked up at him, his face barely visible through the thick, unkempt beard and long reddish-brown hair. Calis remembered him as a handsome man, one who prized cleanliness and good dress above much else. He’d been a vain man.
The King chuckled to himself as he scanned Ramsey’s stained and torn tunic.
It was all he could do not to wrench himself away from the horrid stench.
Ramsey spat at Calis’ feet, but he lacked the saliva to have it make much of a statement.
“That wasn’t very nice.” The King took a handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped off his shoe. “It seems, Ramsey, that the time has finally come for you to be of use to me.”
A low growl sounded in Ramsey’s throat.
Calis chuckled again as he reached forward and turned his hand palm up. Ramsey’s body stiffened and he was lifted into a standing position, Calis’ strong magic holding him up.
The King released him to stand of his own accord and pulled a knife from his belt, angling the tip to press just under Ramsey’s ribs. He loved the power rushing through his veins, but sometimes it just felt good to do things the old-fashioned way.
The Sorcerer stilled.
“Your Tri-Gard is allying with my enemies. I’m releasing you from these dungeons, but only because I need you. Feel the tip of my knife and remember that you are under my power. One false step and your death will not be quick. I will have my men batter you with magic until you no longer remember your own name and then string you up and bleed you dry … slowly.”
He pulled his knife away and returned it to its sheath as he marched to the door and pulled it open to speak with his men outside. “Clean him up. I don’t want to smell his stench when he’s brought to the throne room.”
The King walked away with two of his guards in tow as the others took charge of Ramsey. He should have felt remorse. Ramsey was not the one who betrayed him all those years ago. It was Lonara and that old fool Briggs. They’d never truly been on his side.
If he was honest with himself, they weren’t the real reason he’d spent so many years tormenting Ramsey. That fault belonged to the man’s daughter, the bitch who fled Dreach-Dhoun when all he wanted was her. He’d been a prince at the time and his father told him to forget her, to use what he was feeling to fuel his actions.
Then his father was killed in the battles and the young prince became king. He’d never forgotten his father’s words and the hate he’d harbored became the backbone of his rule. Then there was the revenge. One day, he’d take down the man who took everything from him. The plan was already in motion. Marcus Renauld would die.
Dark thoughts swirled in his mind as he sat on his cold throne and waited. He ran a hand over his long, dark hair that was plaited back.
“Sire,” a mousy looking man rushed into the room and dropped into a low bow.
“What is it?” the King snapped, annoyed at the interruption to his thoughts.
“I’ve just come from the border. The defenses you have ordered are complete and Isenore is waiting for instruction on their next move.”
Calis waved a hand and a blast of power took hold of the Messenger, pushing him across the room and out the door. Isenore and that dolt of a duke were not his concern at the moment. They could wait until he was ready. He stood and began to pace, his heavy steps sounding about the room. Most of his messengers knew not to disturb him when he was in such a mood.
It seemed an eternity passed before two men appeared with a much better looking Ramsey between them. He’d been bathed and given new clothes. Calis almost let his scrutiny end there, but Ramsey’s face – even in its battered state – held such a familiarity.
Calis closed his eyes for the briefest of moments and when he opened them, it was almost as if the woman he’d love stared back at him. White hot anger tore through his chest.
“Get out,” he screamed. Ramsey turned to follow the guards, but Calis called him back. “Not you, you fool.”
He flicked a finger and the heavy doors slammed shut after the guards’ retreat.
When they were alone again, Calis allowed his eyes to scan over Ramsey. It was the first time in years he looked almost like the man he’d known before, but the differences stood out as well. He’d never been a big man, but now he was frail. He walked forward, half stumbling. There was a limp to his steps from broken bones that hadn’t healed properly. Calis had taken his crystal, leaving Ramsey with no magic to heal himself.
“There’s my old friend.” The King infused a false joy into his voice. “I thought we’d never see you again under all that hair.” He rushed forward and opened his arms to embrace the man.
Ramsey stiffened and when Calis pulled back, he saw the hesitancy in his eyes.
Not fear. Never fear.
Ramsey Kane had been the only prisoner Calis could never truly break; the only one who retained a part of himself, even after twenty years.
“Come in, come in.” Calis slapped him on the back and Ramsey winced in pain. “Make yourself comfortable. We have much to discuss.”
“I have nothing to say to you.” Ramsey’s voice was rough from disuse. He cleared his throat.
“Oh my, you need a drink.” Calis ushered him towards the large table along the far wall.
“Poisoning is below even you, Calis.”
The King pushed down the urge to lash out at the lack of formality. Ramsey used to call him Calis when they were friends.
“Oh, Ramsey.” Calis grinned. “When I kill you, I assure you it will not be with mere poison.” He poured a glass of wine and held it out.
Ramsey took it and tilted it against his lips, all hesitancy g
one. As soon as he drank the first drop, he began to gulp it down, only lowering the glass when it was empty.
Calis refilled it with a laugh. “You never change, my friend.”
“And you are forever changing.”
When Ramsey looked at him, it was as if he saw straight through him. He’d always had an eerie way about him. The entire Tri-Gard had.
“You grow darker, Calis,” he said.
“You can thank your daughter for that.”
A pained look crossed Ramsey’s face and Calis was brought back to the day he’d told the man about his daughter’s death. He thought the Sorcerer was going to die of grief just as he wanted to.
“Twenty years is a long time to nurse a broken heart.”
It happened so fast. Calis flung his arm out and the glass went flying from Ramsey’s grasp. Dark wine sprayed out across the table and the glass shattered as it slammed into the table’s edge. Calis struck again, this time not bothering with his magic. His fist connected to Ramsey’s jaw.
In his weakened state, Ramsey crumpled to the floor immediately.
“End of conversation,” Calis grunted. “We have more important matters to discuss.”
Ramsey gripped the edge of a chair and pulled himself into it, his breath wheezing in his chest.
“Someone is attempting to reunite the Tri-Gard.”
Ramsey’s eyes snapped up. “Who?”
“That is of no matter. They now travel with Briggs Villard.”
Ramsey scrubbed a hand over his face. “I know Briggs. He was in hiding for a reason. He wouldn’t risk discovery unless he believed in the person who came. Many have probably tried to find him.”
“And you knew where he was, yet you always refused to tell. Your life would have been easier here.”
Ramsey looked down. “I betrayed everything the Tri-Gard stands for once. I could not do it again.”
Calis backhanded him and he barely managed to stay in his seat.
“Where is Lonara Stone?” the King roared.
Ramsey shrank away from him. “Even if I were inclined to tell you, I can only feel her presence. I cannot pinpoint her exact location.”
Calis raised his hand again and then thought better of it. “We’ll know soon enough.” He walked to the other end of the table where a golden bowl filled with water sat. Lifting it carefully, he carried it over and set it in front of Ramsey.
A gust of wind whipped through the room despite them being deep inside the castle. Calis raised his arms and Ramsey looked on in shock.
Magic came from the earth. One needed to be in contact with it in order to draw upon it. It could be stored in one’s body in small amounts - it always was – but never the amount of power Calis had been showing. Then he saw the crystal in one of the King’s hands. His crystal. The sacred crystal of the Tri-Gard.
It wouldn’t provide the kind of power to Calis that it did to the Tri-Gard, but it did hold some.
The king threw his head back and laughed as the magic swirled around him. His dark hair blew out behind him until he finally lowered his arms. The wind died out, leaving behind a deafening silence. The King placed the crystal in the water and took a knife from his belt.
Ramsey waited for Calis to lunge for him. He waited to feel the blade’s sharp edge. It didn’t come. Instead, Calis held his hand out over the water and drew the blade across his palm, leaving a red line in its wake. Bright red dots created ripples as they landed in the water and began to swirl in a circular motion as Calis mumbled through a few short words under his breath.
“The crystal of the Tri-Gard,” the King said. “The blood of the family.”
Confusion clouded in Ramsey’s eyes, but Calis was in no mood for lengthy explanations. He ignored the sorcerer as an image appeared in the water.
A sneer curved his lips as he took in the scene. The orphan ward of the King of Dreach-Sciene followed a girl through the woods. The girl turned back to smile at him and Calis recognized the look in her eyes. He sucked in a breath as that look ripped another shred from his shriveled heart. She looked so like her mother.
“Who is that?” Ramsey gasped.
“The princess of Dreach-Sciene.”
Ramsey’s eyes widened. “You mean she’s …”
“Yes, my dear friend. That is your granddaughter.” Calis took pleasure in the pain that flashed in Ramsey’s eyes.
“She’s trying to unite the Tri-Gard?”
“Along with her brother, yes. As I’m assuming you’re just now realizing, she won’t survive her quest. To unite the Tri-Gard, they must come to retrieve you. Actually, I probably won’t kill her. She’d make a nice prize for my dungeons. I can finally do all of the things I wanted to do to her mother after her betrayal.”
For the first time in twenty years, Ramsey was truly afraid. Terror shone in his eyes as they drifted back to the image of Rissa. “You’re tracking them? How?”
“You’re slipping, old friend. Don’t you recognize blood magic?”
“But blood magic only works if …”
“Yes, I know very well how it works.”
Calis refocused on the image. He couldn’t hear what was being said, but he was able to track where they were and who was there. The Princess and the Ward rejoined the others around a fire.
“They’ve convinced Briggs to join them?” Ramsey covered his mouth with his hand.
“I already told you they had.”
“One never knows when your words are lies, Calis. But that’s impossible. He’d only go if …” Ramsey turned to Calis. “You’re scared. That’s why you’ve brought me from the dungeons. It terrifies you what this young prince and princess can do. You fear Briggs and if they find Lonara …”
“Then we will take them and have all three members of the Tri-Gard for our dungeons. But don’t worry, my friend. They will not find Lonara for she does not wish to be found, not by them. Briggs will be joining you soon in your cozy dungeon. Then you won’t be so lonely and I will have another crystal. Not even Lonara will be able to resist the call of two.”
“Where are they now?”
Calis closed his eyes, giving in to the magic to get a location. “Near the border of Isenore.”
Ramsey leaned back in his chair, his movements stiff with pain, and crossed his arms over his chest. “Looks like those kids inherited quite a bit from their mother.”
It was the wrong thing to say and before he knew what was happening, Ramsey was flying across the floor. Calis stomped towards him, his knife hovering in the air beside him.
Ramsey saw Calis struggle to keep it floating. His magic was draining and he needed to be recharged. The King shook as he pushed the knife towards Ramsey. The tip plunged into his leg, right below the hip.
He wanted him to scream. He wanted him to writhe in pain.
Instead, Ramsey went limp. The only indication of his pain was a slight wheeze to his breaths. It wasn’t enough to quell the need for blood inside of Calis, but he needed to get outside to gather more power from the earth.
“Guard,” Calis screamed. A troop of guards appeared instantly. “Get this man out of my sight. Patch him up and throw him in one of the rooms in the west wing.”
They lifted Ramsey and hauled him away. Calis snatched the crystal from the water and dried his hands on the tablecloth, leaving a smear of blood.
“Hinton,” he called.
His advisor hurried in. “Sire.” He bowed then caught sight of the King’s bloody hand. “Do you need that taken care of?”
“No.” He held the crystal against his palm and the skin stitched itself together until it looked as it did before. Hinton watched in horror.
Calis, ignoring his advisor’s open-mothed stare, strode towards the door.
“Send a messenger to our agent inside the Dreach-Sciene Palace. Tell her to complete her mission and return to Dreach-Dhoun. You know the code phrase?”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
The King left abruptly and didn’t stop until he p
ushed through the doors into the back garden. He breathed a sigh of relief as he lowered himself to the ground and the power stirred and whipped up around him. A warmth rushed through his limbs and he closed his eyes in contentment, thinking of the order he’d just given.
In only a few short weeks, his revenge would be complete, and Dreach-Sciene would never be the same.
Seventeen
Nights under the stars were becoming more of an annoyance than an adventure. Being forced to rise with the sun was downright torture. Davi groaned as he slowly opened one eye and then slammed it shut again as the blast of light made him wince.
It was another chilly morning, but by late afternoon, he knew it would seem as if the seasons had changed as heat would beat down upon them.
A rustling noise jolted him from his waking fog and he jumped up, lunging for his sword, only to find a raccoon rummaging through his packs.
“Oh, save me, Davion,” Rissa mocked from where she sat with her back up against a tree. Her bow rested lazily on her bent knee and an arrow twirled between her fingers. “It’s such a scary beast.”
Davi straightened out of his fighting stance and shot her a scowl before taking a step forward. Raccoon would be a nice change of pace for breakfast. The animal’s head snapped up, ringed in black, and started to bolt. Before it got too far, an arrow struck its side and it collapsed.
Davi turned to glare at Rissa, but his annoyance didn’t last long as she looked up at him with wide, innocent eyes.
“You couldn’t let me get that?” He laughed.
She shrugged. “The arrow slipped.”
Pacing towards the downed raccoon, Davi crouched and examined the arrow. Straight through the head, protecting any meat. “Some slip.”
Looking behind him, he took in the still sleeping forms of the rest of their group and then straightened up and stepped towards Trystan. He nudged him with his foot. “Oi, Trystan, wake up.”
Trystan jerked awake. “Did I oversleep? Is it time to saddle the horses?”