by David Wells
Sovereign Stone
Sovereign of the Seven Isles: Book Two
by
David A. Wells
SOVEREIGN STONE
Copyright © 2011 by David A. Wells
All rights reserved.
Edited by Carol L. Wells
This is a work of fiction. Characters, events and organizations in this novel are creations of the author’s imagination.
www.SovereignOfTheSevenIsles.com
Chapter 1
“Lord Alexander, come quick,” the Ranger shouted.
Alexander stopped his sword form, raced to the low stone wall that separated the paddock from open sky, and looked across the chasm to the bridge platform on the other side.
A cloud of darkness was swirling in the center—thick, soot-filled smoke, only darker, whirling in a column fifty feet high and half as wide. It seemed to draw in the morning light and cast the area around it into shadow.
Abigail, Isabel, and Anatoly came up next to Alexander. They all tensed at the sight.
Anatoly barked an order to the nearest Ranger: “Find Erik and tell him to ready his men immediately!”
The Ranger nodded smartly and raced off toward the barracks.
Alexander couldn’t see clearly what was happening—the bridge platform was over five hundred feet away. He heard Slyder cry out overhead as Isabel tipped her head back and closed her eyes. A moment later the cloud of swirling darkness suddenly condensed with a loud clap like thunder, then dissipated just as quickly.
What Alexander saw next sent a chill up his spine. Isabel gasped and opened her eyes with a look of shock and dismay.
The creature strode purposefully toward the archway leading to the bridge abutment, stopping only feet from the edge. It stood eight feet tall and had smooth, obsidian-black skin and chiseled muscles. It had no hair, no eyes, no mouth, no genitals. Its head was smooth and bald and had no ears.
In the place of eyes and mouth were small indentations; a nose was represented by a bump on the unfinished face. Its arms were overly long and its hands each had six fingers ending in three-inch, razor-sharp talons. Its feet were taloned as well, three in front and one in back like a raptor. It had the knees of a canine. Alexander had seen this creature before when he used his clairvoyance to watch Phane conquer Karth.
A smaller creature, only eighteen inches tall, had also emerged from the darkness, beating its batlike wings furiously.
“I have to get over there,” Alexander said as he sat down and cleared his mind. With practice, he’d trained himself to find the place of calm emptiness quickly. Now he put his training to the test.
He sank into the quiet of his mind, rebuffing intrusive thoughts with greater ease than he’d been capable of even a week before. It wasn’t long before he was floating on the firmament, drifting on an ocean of possibility, riding the wave of creation as it manifested in the present moment. He let his awareness settle for a moment before he coalesced above his meditating body.
With a flick of his mind, he directed his vision across the chasm amidst the enemy. The nightmare beast stood at the bridge abutment, frozen in place like a statue.
The smaller creature hovered at eye level in front of Jataan P’Tal. It spoke with a raspy, whiny voice that sounded less than human.
“Master commands that you retreat to Headwater immediately, where you will raise an army worthy of him.” The horrible little creature wrung its clawed hands as it spoke. “The scourgling will keep the fugitive from leaving the ancient traitor’s keep. You must leave now. An army comes.”
“Very well,” Jataan P’Tal said. “Does Prince Phane have any further instructions?” It was obvious to Alexander that General Commander P’Tal did not like this dark little creature.
His men were even less happy with the little monster and they were openly frightened by the scourgling, even though the netherworld beast had done nothing since taking up its post at the edge of the bridge abutment.
“These are his only commands,” the little creature said, then touched its ring, and a cloud of swirling darkness quickly engulfed it. Jataan P’Tal took a step back. With another loud clap that sounded like thunder, the darkness dissipated and the little monster was gone.
“Strike camp,” Jataan P’Tal commanded. “We move for Headwater.”
The soldiers followed his orders quickly. Alexander could tell from their fearful glances and bits and pieces of their whispered conversation that they wanted to be as far away from the scourgling as they could get.
Alexander understood completely.
When he opened his eyes, his entire force of Rangers was fanned out along the stone wall with bows at the ready. His friends stood around him in a half-circle, looking across the chasm at the impossibly black netherworld beast that had taken over the siege of Blackstone Keep.
Within minutes the enemy soldiers were making their way off the bridge platform.
Alexander stood. Isabel took his arm and looked up at him with a hint of fear in her beautiful green eyes. “What is that thing?” she whispered.
“The little demon called it a scourgling.”
Lucky took a sharp breath. “A scourgling is a hunter demon,” he said, “also called a soul stalker. The stories of the Reishi War describe them as relentless, tireless, and extremely deadly, although not terribly smart. They’re immune to most weapons and magic. Physical trauma simply has no effect on them.”
“Phane had two of them with him in Karth,” Alexander said. “Another creature brought this one here. A little demonic-looking thing about a foot and a half tall with leathery grey-black skin, hateful yellow eyes, and batlike wings. It told Commander P’Tal to fall back to Headwater and start building an army for Phane. It also said there’s an army headed our way; hopefully, it’s from New Ruatha.”
“If we do have a friendly army coming, we need to warn them to approach with caution,” said Lucky.
Isabel tipped her head back and closed her eyes, linking her mind with Slyder. “Looks like about five thousand soldiers coming up the road from New Ruatha, but they’re still about a day out.”
“Good, that gives us time to send warning, but I want to try something else first,” Alexander said. He reached into the Keep Master’s ring with his mind and brought the bridge into existence with a thought. It shimmered briefly, then materialized out of thin air, spanning the gap over the long fall to the spur below.
The scourgling didn’t hesitate. The moment the bridge appeared, the creature started running toward Alexander. It revealed no excitement or ferocity or emotion of any kind, except for a single-minded determination to reach Alexander. It ran with frightening speed in great loping strides.
Everyone tensed when the netherworld beast started its charge. Anatoly spun his war axe up into his hands. Abigail slipped her bow off her shoulder, drew an arrow, nocked it, took careful aim and released, all in one graceful motion. The arrow flew true, striking hard in the center of the advancing monster’s glistening black chest. The scourgling didn’t seem to notice. The shaft shattered into splinters on impact without leaving a mark.
It quickly covered half the distance across the bridge and was still gaining speed. It was already running faster than any horse, probably faster than nether wolves. It was a terrifying sight, or would have been if Alexander didn’t have the situation well in hand. Erik called out to his Rangers to make ready, but Alexander forestalled the command with a raised hand. He reached into the ring again with his mind and sent the bridge away. It shimmered and vanished like it had never even been a part of this world.
The scourgling fell without a sound, tumbling toward the rock face of Blackstone Keep in its long descent toward the spur a thousand feet below. Everyone ran to the low stone wall at the west e
nd of the paddock and leaned over to watch as the creature hit the side of the cliff, bounced away, and continued to fall toward the spur that joined the central mountain of the Keep with the outcropping that formed the bridge platform. It hit the side of the spur a moment later and bounced off, tumbling down the sheer cliff face and plummeting to the plain below.
It came to a stop thousands of feet below and could only be seen as a black speck on the grey grassland. It was still for only a moment. Then the speck started moving.
Isabel opened her eyes and her face went pale. “The fall didn’t even faze it. It hit so hard it left a hole in the ground then it bounded to its feet and started running toward the road like nothing happened. Alexander, how are we going to kill that thing?”
Alexander put his arm around her. “I suspect I’m going to have to see how sharp the Thinblade really is.”
She looked up at him with her green eyes flashing, but it was Anatoly who spoke first.
“Are you sure that’s wise? If your new sword won’t cut the scourgling, then what?” Anatoly asked. Abigail and Isabel nodded in agreement.
“That could be a problem,” Alexander said. “If the Thinblade won’t kill it, then I doubt we have anything that will, at least not anything we know of yet. There might be something in the Keep that would do the job, but that’s only speculation. Hopefully, there are a few wizards with the army coming our way. Maybe they’ll know something about that thing that we don’t.”
“I can send them a warning with Slyder,” Isabel offered.
Alexander nodded. “We will, but later this afternoon. I’d like to keep an eye on the scourgling and P’Tal’s force for the time being. I want to see what the scourgling does when it encounters the soldiers from Headwater on its way back up to the bridge platform.”
“Do you think it might attack them?” Jack asked.
“We can hope,” Alexander said. “Mostly, I want to see how the soldiers react to it. When I was watching them a few minutes ago, they seemed afraid of the thing—not that I blame them. It might give us some insight into the level of allegiance the people of Headwater have for Phane. I suspect they don’t really know who they’ve gotten into bed with. If the scourgling kills some of them, we may be able to use the story to our advantage in sowing seeds of discontent.”
Jack smiled slowly but broadly. “I like the way you’re starting to think. Stories are the most powerful magic of all because they sway the masses.” Jack cocked his head like he was looking at Alexander in a new light. “You might have made an excellent bard, if it wasn’t for all this business about being King.” He smiled with a sparkle in his eye. “Well, no matter, I’ll get started writing a song about the murderous indifference of Phane and his netherworld minions. No sense letting a bunch of soldiers tell it, they’ll undoubtedly leave out the important parts.”
Alexander chuckled. “Good. Isabel, if you could keep an eye on the scourgling, I need to go check on something else.”
“Of course. I’ll let you know what happens.”
“I’ll stay as well. I might get lucky and be able to witness the encounter firsthand. Could provide useful detail for my song,” Jack said.
“What are you going to check on?” Abigail asked.
Alexander took a deep breath before he answered. “Phane. If he doesn’t need the scourgling in Karth anymore, then he’s probably on the move and I need to know where he plans on going next.”
“Is that wise?” Lucky asked. “We don’t know if he can harm you when you look in on him with your clairvoyance. Last time he wasn’t aware of your capability, but now he may have taken precautions.”
“I’ll be careful, but I want to know what his next move will be. If he’s coming to Ruatha, we need to know. I also want to take a look at the army that’s headed our way and see who’s leading it.”
Chapter 2
It had been a week since Alexander found the Thinblade. Seven days spent searching Blackstone Keep and they hadn’t even scratched the surface. The place was enormous. Under different circumstances, he would have been happy to spend months exploring the ancient fortress. It was full of mystery and possibility that ignited his imagination and gave physical form to many of his childhood fantasies.
Even the mundane was miraculous in Blackstone Keep. After several hours of meditation on the Keep Master’s ring, he’d found that he could command the ceilings of any room to glow with soft illumination. It was a simple thing but very welcome in the pitch-black inner rooms of the Keep. After a bit of further investigation, he discovered that once awakened, the light in any given room could be turned on or off by touching a panel on the wall near the door.
After he and the Rangers had spent a few days exploring the quarters on one side of the paddock, they found a small part of the Keep meant for housing soldiers, and the Rangers moved from their camp under the stars. Alexander knew there were plenty of other quarters available but he didn’t want to venture too far into the Keep just yet. There were other matters of greater importance than the comfort of their lodging, and the barracks would be more than adequate for the time being.
On the third day after their arrival at Blackstone Keep, Jataan P’Tal had shown up with a company of about a hundred soldiers from Headwater. Alexander was confident that they couldn’t reach across the gaping chasm that served as the primary defense for the Keep, but he doubled the watch just in case.
It looked like the General Commander of the Reishi Protectorate was settling in for a siege, a fact that didn’t present any immediate problem but troubled Alexander just the same. He was trapped. Fortunately, he was safe within the Keep, but in time he knew he would have to return to New Ruatha, and the small army camped on his doorstep was in the way.
At first he had worried about an adequate food supply, but then he discovered a larder that was even more magical than the lighting. The room was clearly a storeroom, but its storage bins were empty when he first discovered them. The thing that caught his attention was a waist-high pedestal just a few steps inside the door with the imprint of a hand in the center. It took an hour of focused and deliberate meditation on the Keep Master’s ring to discover the purpose of the room. But even after he did, he was frustrated to learn that he couldn’t make it work. It required a connection to the firmament that he couldn’t seem to create except when he was in a state of deep meditation.
When he brought Lucky to the room, he was struck dumb with awe when the alchemist placed his hand on the pedestal and linked his mind to the firmament. The storage bins in the room quickly filled with dried rice, beans, salt pork, and jerky. The storeroom was a magical larder that could produce basic food staples, provided a wizard capable of making a reliable connection to the firmament was there to operate it.
He had discovered that the seven rings in the jeweled case he had found in the Bloodvault were similar to the Keep Master’s ring. He wanted to give one to each of his friends but quickly found that a connection to the firmament was necessary to use the lesser rings as well, so only Lucky received one.
Lucky reported that the ring allowed him to see the Keep in his mind’s eye as well as to control the bridge. Alexander was happy to hear that, since he would have to leave eventually and he wanted to make sure that his people would be able to protect the Keep and still come and go as necessary. The secondary rings solved that problem.
On the fifth day, he had discovered the beacon towers. Once he understood what they were, it was a simple matter to activate them. Tall towers topped with cones of stone rose from the four cardinal points of the massive Keep. With a flick of his mind, the cones began to glow with a bright white light, sending a clear signal that Blackstone Keep had a new master.
He had practiced with the Thinblade daily, testing its power and sharpness. He was awed by it. The Sword of Kings was beyond his wildest expectations. He could cut through a stone the size of a man’s head with a simple flick of his wrist. No real force was required, only motion. The Thinblade was sharper tha
n sharp, but much more. He discovered, quite by accident, that the blade would not cut him.
He’d been trying to wield his new sword like he would have wielded an ordinary blade and it made his movements clumsy. In a moment of terrifying carelessness, he misjudged the position of the Thinblade and would have, should have, cut off his hand just above the wrist, but the blade simply bounced off his arm. After a moment of stunned gratitude, he tried, much more carefully of course, to cut himself with the Thinblade and found that the thin edge would not make contact with his flesh.
Anything else was fair game though. He cut through stone, wood, or steel with ease. With a bit of practice, he found that he could wield the Thinblade with much greater quickness than he could wield a normal steel sword.
Every day he had meditated and sought to make contact with the firmament. His practice was paying off. It usually took several minutes of calm empty-mindedness before he found his awareness floating freely on the currents of the firmament. He tested his limits and was pleased to find that he could stay in the timeless ocean of possibility indefinitely while still maintaining a connection to his physical existence.
His connection to the firmament was different than that of other wizards. They had to be cautious of becoming lost in the limitless possibility and rapture of creation. Alexander didn’t experience the firmament in that way, but he also couldn’t make a connection as reliably or as quickly as other wizards. It was a source of frustration, but he’d made up his mind to focus on the capabilities he could rely on and make do with them.
While limited in scope, his magical vision was profound in the insight it gave him. He’d been able to see the aura of living things since he was a child. The colors that surrounded others gave him a window into their character, intent, and capacity for magic.
Much more recently, he’d discovered a limited form of clairvoyance that allowed him to see all around him even with his eyes closed. It was like seeing his immediate surroundings with his peripheral vision all at once. With a little focus, he could direct his all around sight to a single point nearby and see clearly, down to the smallest detail.