Lorik watched as Spector rushed forward, his ethereal body looking like black smoke. It was a sight that would turn the blood cold of the most hardened warrior. The warlord stood transfixed with fear as Spector rose up before him and then flew down with both of his deadly knives raised. There was a scream that echoed across the grassy plain as Spector stabbed the warlord in a vicious attack. The terrified warrior didn’t even try to fight back. The other warriors threw down their weapons and fell to their knees. Lorik walked slowly into the fortress. He had defeated the compound without even drawing his weapons.
Chapter 4
It was a deep pitched, throaty rattle that woke Zollin. He knew instinctively that the sound was made by a large animal and any animal in the wild was dangerous. Zollin slowly rolled over and saw two yellow eyes watching him from the darkness. He had just raised his magical shield over his body when a high pitched roar rang out. The sound caused Zollin to freeze for a moment, his body paralyzed by fear, which was exactly what the roar was intended to do. The panther’s body pouncing on him from behind caught him totally off guard and pinned him to the ground as the huge, black-furred animal ripped and tore at his flesh with its claws and teeth.
Luckily the wizard’s magical shield protected him. The invisible barrier held back the panther’s razor-sharp claws and deflected its powerful bite, but Zollin couldn’t turn over and was forced to levitate the last of the burning wood from his fire pit out toward the panther. The big cat screeched in terror and bolted away. Zollin was just picking himself up when the other panther, the one he’d seen in the darkness, dashed toward Amvyr who was pressed against the trunk of the large tree they were camping under.
Zollin sent a wave of power pulsing toward the panther and sent it sprawling into the darkness. The animals circled back, out of Zollin’s vision. He couldn’t risk them attacking unseen so he sent out a wave of magic. The heat of his magic, churning inside him from fear and adrenaline, blazed through him. It didn’t warm his cold body, but for a moment he forgot about the cold, about his mission, about everything but the danger in the darkness and incredible power inside him.
His magical senses found the panthers, which were circling the camp nearly twenty feet away. Zollin moved over beside Amvyr; the girl’s breathing was calm, but her lips were pulled back into a snarl. Zollin noticed that her hands were curled into claws at her side. He wasn’t sure what to think about the girl. It wasn’t clear whether she was frightened or angry. She had no weapons or even any way to protect herself. He would have expected her to be in a panic but instead she was unnaturally calm. Even though the panthers were the obvious danger, Zollin felt almost more afraid of the girl beside him.
He put up a magical shield around them and waited to see what the panthers would do. It didn’t take long for the large cats to return. Zollin thought about simply increasing his small fire. After levitating the burning branches to scare off the panther attacking him, there wasn’t much left of their little fire. But he was afraid that the light from the fire would only delay the attack and not scare the panthers away. He needed to strike back at the big cats if he wanted any peace in the night.
Zollin felt the cats approaching from the far side of the tree he was standing against. He waited until they were only a dozen paces away. Then he spun around the tree and shouted his spell.
“Blast!” he screamed, letting his fear and anger feed the magic inside him.
Blue energy, almost like bolts of lighting, shot from his outstretched hands. The panthers were slinking forward, their big bodies close to the ground. Zollin guessed they had planned to attack from both sides at the same time, but they hadn’t expected him to attack first. One froze in place, the other tried to pounce on the wizard, but both were hit by the magical energy. The magic burned through their fur and scorched their skin. Zollin could smell the stench of scorched hair as the panthers roared in pain. The force of the magic stopped the leaping cat in midair and pinned the other to the ground.
Zollin let his power roar out for a few seconds, then he released it. The panthers were hurt and scared, but not mortally wounded. They raced away into the night, crashing through the undergrowth. Zollin dropped to his knees and tried to catch his breath. His ears were ringing and his head felt light. Magic burned deep inside him almost as if he’d swallowed a hot coal, but there was also a sense of satisfaction. He’d fought off the beasts, and that was no small feat.
He got slowly to his feet and turned back to the camp. Amvyr had come out from behind the tree and was watching him. Her eyes were open wide and she was breathing heavily. For a moment Zollin thought that she looked beautiful and he was plagued by a hot flash of desire, but he forced it away. He needed to eat and rest, not break his vows to Brianna. Amvyr was attractive, but Zollin reminded himself that she might really be the princess of Baskla. The last thing King Ricard would want was for his daughter’s rescuer to take advantage of her.
“That should take care of them,” he said.
Amvyr didn’t speak, but she moved closer to him as Zollin returned to their small fire. There was wood in ample supply in the forest. It only took the young wizard a few minutes to gather an armful and add it to the pile of embers. It was soon burning brightly as Zollin chewed on the tough pieces of dried meat from his pack. He offered some of their meager rations to Amvyr but she didn’t accept. Instead she sat watching him, but she was much closer than before. Zollin didn’t know if she was afraid, or if she was trying to tempt him. He forced himself not to look at her, even though his mind seemed to buzz with desire.
They didn’t sleep more than a few hours that night. Zollin couldn’t remember ever being so tortured by his feelings. After Todrick had been killed in Tranaugh Shire, being close to Brianna had been difficult. He had been attracted to Brianna then too, but he’d also been wracked with guilt since she had been married to his best friend. But that attraction seemed innocent compared with the way his lust burned for Amvyr. He didn’t know her very well, she hadn’t spoken since he’d rescued her from the castle ruins where the gargoyles had taken him. There had been a powerful, evil magic residing in the forgotten fortress, and it had used her to try and keep him there. She had been strong in the wretched place, he’d even seen visions of her where she looked clean and regal, but in reality she was just a young girl. Her clothes were filthy, her hair tangled, but there was something about her that made Zollin’s blood rush through his body in a frenzy.
He wondered as he lay by the fire trying not to do something he knew he would regret, if perhaps his desire was magical in nature. Amvyr didn’t seem to know magic, and she hadn’t uttered a single spell to his knowledge; in fact, Zollin couldn’t even sense anything magical about her. Yet his desire for her seemed almost supernatural and it took all his willpower not to act on it.
When the sun finally rose Zollin felt a sense of relief. He had survived the night and he could take the princess back to her father. He got to his feet and stretched just as Ferno returned to their small camp. The dragon seemed rejuvenated after a night of hunting.
“You missed all the excitement,” Zollin said as he approached the hulking green dragon. “We were attacked by panthers.”
An image of a small house cat meowing flashed in Zollin’s mind.
“No,” he said, trying not to laugh. “They were much bigger. Almost the size of a small horse and terribly ferocious.”
Ferno shook its head and huffed. It sounded to Zollin almost like a cynical snort.
“Laugh all you want,” he said, “but we’re flying out of here. I want to get to Forxam as quickly as possible.”
After packing up their few belongings, Zollin climbed up onto Ferno. Then he levitated Amvyr up behind him. She didn’t seem afraid as he used his magic to lift her into the air, but she hugged her small body to him once she was settled on the dragon’s back. One arm wrapped around Zollin’s chest, the other slipped down onto his thigh. He could feel the warmth of her body as she pressed against him.
“Go!” Zo
llin shouted. “Fly, Ferno!”
The dragon jumped into the air and Zollin's attention was mercifully torn away from the girl behind him and onto the task of holding on as Ferno carried them up into the cold sky. The rugged forest fell away below them and the cold wind stung Zollin’s face. He bent low and watched the sky for the gargoyles that had attacked them just days earlier, but there was no sign of the dreadful creatures. They flew for an hour before the capital city of Baskla came into view. It looked cold and harsh, the bluish stone of the large castle and protective walls seemed hard and unyielding. But there was smoke rising from various parts of the city as well, and eventually Zollin saw movement. He even caught the wonderful aroma of food cooking as they circled the city.
They approached the massive battlements of the castle slowly. Guards came hurrying out. Ferno sent Zollin a mental image of the warriors below, the dragon’s keen eyes focused in on the honed points of their spears. Zollin sent a reassuring feeling back to the massive, green dragon. Ferno descended slowly, until they landed gently on the tallest tower of the castle’s battlements. There was just enough room for the dragon and Zollin quickly slid off the beast’s powerful back. He held his hands out for Amvyr, helping her to her feet just as a squad of guards came cautiously onto the rooftop of the tower.
“Go!" Zollin told Ferno. “I’ll call for you when I’m ready to leave. Stay out of trouble.”
The dragon growled, its keen eyes never leaving the soldiers at the entrance to the tower, then jumped high into the air. The wings flapped hard, battering everyone on the tower with the strong down draft of air. Zollin turned to the soldiers.
“Tell King Ricard that Zollin of Yelsia is here.”
“What about your dragon?” one of the soldiers asked. “Is it coming back?”
“No,” Zollin said. “Not until I call for it. I need to speak to your king.”
“The king is unavailable at the moment,” said the captain of the small squad of warriors.
“I have a young girl here who claims to be his daughter.”
The soldier moved forward, eyeing Amvyr suspiciously.
“Princess Amvyr is dead, over a year now,” the soldier said.
“Are you sure?” Zollin asked.
“I haven’t been stationed here long enough to recognize her,” the man admitted. “I’ll take you to someone who can.”
Zollin watched Amvyr for any signs of anxiety, but she seemed just as unaffected by her surroundings as she had since leaving the castle ruins. The wizard nodded and the captain led them back into the long winding stairway that ran down into the castle. Zollin had been to Forxam only once before and he hadn’t had the time to explore the city. He would have liked to come when he had time to walk the streets and meet the people who lived there, but just like on his last visit, he had a mission to complete and he was already behind schedule.
They were taken to an opulent room with thick rugs and ornate tapestries where a very fat man sat behind a massive desk. He was sweating, despite the fact that the room was almost chilly. There were other people in the room, watching the fat man anxiously. For his part the fat man was writing in a large ledger, his concentration solely on the names and numbers he was putting down on paper.
“Lord Hoyal,” the captain of the guards that escorted Zollin through the castle said in a cautious voice. “We have visitors.”
“Yes,” the fat man said without looking up.
“This is Zollin of Yelsia,” the guard said, “a wizard. And he claims that this is Princess Amvyr.”
Finally when the guard mentioned the princess the fat man looked up. He scrutinized the girl closely. His fat head turned slightly to one side and when he spoke his voice was strangely high pitched.
“What does the king keep beside his bed?” the fat man asked.
Zollin felt a moment of panic. If the girl wasn’t really the princess, they could both be labeled frauds and thrown out of the castle, or maybe even worse. It was possible they could be thrown in the dungeons for trying to impersonate royalty. And while Zollin was confident he could fight his way free, he wouldn’t be able to complete his mission for King Hausey.
“A statue of goddess Ver’tas, a bottle of sweet wine, and a dagger.”
“What kind of dagger?” the fat man asked.
“A curved tribal dagger from his first raid into Shuklan.”
The fat man stared hard at Amvyr for a long moment. For her part, the girl seemed completely at ease. She had been listless as they traveled through the forest. Now she seemed almost as if everything was beneath her, almost like it was all a bore. Zollin wasn’t sure if she was traumatized or simply playing him for a fool.
“She has a semblance of the princess,” Hoyal said. “But she’s filthy. The girl I remember couldn’t stand to have one hair out of place.”
“I was kidnapped,” Amvyr said coldly. “And kept in a filthy cave deep underground.”
“I rescued her from something, I’m not quite sure what it was yet,” Zollin explained. “I was on my way here anyway, so I brought her along.”
“Yes, that was very good of you,” the fat man said. “Let’s clean her up and return her to King Ricard. Perhaps it will do him good.”
Hoyal rang a small bell and two stewards came into the room. He gave them orders and Amvyr was led away by one man, while the other showed Zollin to an apartment where he was given clean clothes and warm water to bathe in. Zollin got cleaned up and then waited. When he was finally taken to the king, he was shocked to see Amvyr sitting by his side. She was dressed in a shimmering gown, her hair washed and brushed so that it seemed to glow in the pale winter sunlight. King Ricard’s face was red and puffy; he’d obviously been crying.
“Zollin, how can I thank you,” the king said, rising quickly to his feet. “You have returned my daughter to me and restored my broken heart.”
The king came to Zollin and embraced him.
“It was nothing,” he said, still in shock at the change in Amvyr’s appearance.
She had been alluring before, but after being cleaned up and dressed in the finest clothes, she looked stunning. She smiled at Zollin and he felt a heat in his cheeks. Her stare was too direct and he had to tear his eyes away.
“We searched for nearly a year,” the king said. “My hopes were dashed and I had lost the will to live. But you found her and brought her back. She tells me you rescued her from an ancient castle.”
“It is a foul place,” Zollin said, “guarded by gargoyles that come to life.”
“I’ve never heard of such a place. Surely this isn’t in my kingdom.”
“I’m afraid it is. Did King Hausey’s representatives reach you, my lord?”
“No one from Yelsia has come here.”
“I was afraid they had been killed by the gargoyles.”
“Come, sit down. You’ve had a long and dangerous journey,” the king said.
He clapped his hands and food was brought in. The king, his daughter, and Zollin sat at a small table. A haughty looking soldier stood against the wall but didn’t join them as they ate. Still, Zollin could tell the man was hanging on his every word.
“I feel almost silly talking about gargoyles in Baskla. Are you sure that’s what they were?” the king asked.
“I am, my lord,” Zollin said. “They are animated by a very powerful magic. I’ve sensed it spreading across the Five Kingdoms.”
“First dragons, now gargoyles, what’s next? A troll army?” the king said with a laugh.
“Yes, it sounds far-fetched, I know. But the gargoyles attacked me once before. They seem especially drawn to Ferno.”
“That’s Zollin’s dragon, daddy,” Amvyr said.
Zollin didn’t bother trying to correct Amvyr. Sometimes it was easier to simply let people believe that Ferno was his, the way a horse belonged to its rider, even though Ferno was an intelligent and fiercely independent creature. The dragon stayed with Zollin because it wanted to, but explaining his relationship with th
e dragon was difficult, so he didn’t interrupt.
“I find it hard to believe I haven’t heard reports of these gargoyles or even of this castle.”
“The castle is ancient and mostly overgrown by forest,” Zollin said.
“There are many such places in Baskla. We are in a constant battle to keep the creeping vines and spreading trees at bay. Any place left without constant care will be swallowed up by the forest.”
“This place looks like it was once a castle,” Zollin explained. “But the structure above ground is nothing compared to the vast complex underground. I will have to find out exactly what is lurking there and how to deal with it, but for now I must return to Yelsia. King Hausey is anxious to know your plans for dealing with Osla and Falxis.”
“The lost kingdoms. I’m sure King Hausey has already invaded Falxis.”
“He is making preparations, but the goal should be to rebuild, not to conquer.”
“Tell that to Lorik of Ortis. He is the dangerous one, not me. Not Baskla.”
“Lorik? You know him?”
Zollin was surprised to hear the name. He had met the powerful warrior once, but his impression had been that Lorik was a good man. It seemed strange to hear that Lorik was causing problems in Ortis.
“He failed to save my daughter, then murdered King Yettlebor and Queen Issalyn, then destroyed Ort City. He’s a monster that must be stopped.”
“I didn’t know,” Zollin said, thinking back to the time he had met Lorik.
“Now you know. Do not blame us for invading Ortis, we are only fighting to protect Baskla from a madman.”
“Who was King Yettlebor?” Zollin asked.
“He was my cousin and the rightful king of Ortis. He was rebuilding that kingdom, with our help, and Lorik slaughtered him in his bed.”
“That’s awful.”
“It’s an act of war. Baskla will not sit idle while our allies are slaughtered.”
“So you will invade Ortis?”
“No, we will defend the people of Ortis from a monster.”
Chaos Reigning: The Five Kingdoms Book 10 Page 3