Harvest of Souls: Disciples of the Horned One Volume Three (Soul Force Saga Book 3)

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Harvest of Souls: Disciples of the Horned One Volume Three (Soul Force Saga Book 3) Page 17

by James Wisher


  “Talked?”

  Damien grinned. “Boom!”

  “Is he okay?”

  “Yeah. Looks like he might have missed a few meals, but other than that he seemed fine. Were you two close?”

  Connor smiled at Damien’s disbelieving tone. Giovanni had always understood him better than anyone. They’d been inseparable as kids. When Connor went to The Tower and started down his true path he tried to convince Giovanni to join him, but in the end his cousin had been too pedestrian in his thinking, unable to wrap his mind around the glory Connor had offered him. Giovanni would have been a much better knight than Mikhail: more brains, less arrogance. They went their separate ways years ago, but Connor continued to miss his dear friend. It would have been nice to find a way to save Giovanni when it came time for the final sacrifice, but Connor saw no path for that. Pity, but that was why they called them sacrifices.

  “I know it doesn’t mean much coming from me, but thank you for saving him.”

  Connor continued on past his unconscious prisoners and out of the cave. Morana sat on a conjured stool and was staring off into the emptiness of the haunted lands. She hopped to her feet when he drew close.

  “It’s boring out here.” She looked past him at the two crystal demons. “Are those the first?”

  He nodded and handed her the ring. “Here, practice commanding them. All you need to do is concentrate and they should do what you want. At the very least the ring will keep them from attacking you.”

  She stared at him then down at the ring. “Are you sure?”

  “Reasonably. This is all a first for me as much as it is for you. Good luck.” Connor started back inside and the crystal demons followed. He stopped and pointed to the ground in front of Morana. “Stay!”

  Connor took a couple steps and when it became clear the constructs weren’t going to follow nodded once. It was time to get serious about making his army.

  Chapter 3

  Jen and Marie-Bell dismounted from their conjured horses in the courtyard of the royal castle. They had flown through the night to reach the capital as quickly as possible. Every moment Damien was gone Jen feared what might be happening to him. The castle grounds looked perfectly normal; no additional guards roamed the grounds and no sorcerers flew through the sky overhead. Dad was dead and Damien captured, but the world went on just like normal.

  “It’s rather plain, isn’t it?” Marie-Bell seemed a good deal less impressed with the castle than she had been with Public House.

  “It was built for defense first. The city just grew up around it over time. While it isn’t pretty, I’m reasonably sure no one inside wants to kill or capture us.”

  “That’s certainly a point in its favor. What now?”

  “Now we see the king and tell him everything that’s happened.”

  Jen walked toward the main entrance with Marie-Bell and was waved through. The throne room doors were open at the end of the hall and a few dozen people filled the space. It looked like Uncle Andy was having court early today. The archmage was beside him on the left and the captain of the guard on the right. That was both convenient and a pain. She knew where everyone was, but now they needed to draw their attention and clear the room. She very much doubted Uncle Andy would want what they were about to say to get out to the public.

  They had barely stepped into the crowded room when the archmage spotted them. She’d probably sensed Marie-Bell’s unusual soul force. She leaned over and whispered in Uncle Andy’s ear as he listened to a pair of merchants argue about lumber prices. Jen massaged the bridge of her nose. How the king managed to listen to everyone’s problems and not scream or start swinging his sword was beyond her comprehension. It must have been part of his training.

  Uncle Andy stood up and the nattering merchants fell silent. “Thank you, ladies and gentlemen, for coming in early this morning, but an urgent matter has come up so I’ll have to ask you to clear the room.”

  With considerable grumbling, the assembled petitioners were directed out by the guards flanking the doors. They’d seen Jen visiting enough times to know she was probably the bearer of the urgent news. When the room was free of citizens and guards Uncle Andy waved them up before the throne.

  They had barely stopped when the archmage said, “What’s happening and where’s my apprentice?”

  Jen took a breath and told them everything that had happened in the city. When she reached the part about the lord mayor Uncle Andy’s grip tightened on the arm of the throne so much Jen feared he might rip it off. She finished with Damien’s disappearance and their fruitless search.

  “Tosh was still processing the cultists when we left, but two things came up consistently. An event called The Harvest and a place called the Kingdom of Alexious.” Jen held her hands out. “Neither means anything to me, but I suspect they are the key to finding Damien.”

  The archmage frowned, clearly deep in thought. Uncle Andy’s emotions were far closer to the surface. He slammed his fist on the arm of the throne with enough force to crack it. “I knew something was wrong in that city. How did our people miss something that big?”

  The archmage shook her head. “No one knew anything about the hidden tunnels and on the surface the cultists acted perfectly normal. As long as everyone kept their mouths shut the only way our agents would have learned anything was dumb luck. If not for Connor Blackman accelerating their actions we probably still wouldn’t know anything.”

  “Is that supposed to make me feel better?” the king asked.

  “It’s not about how you feel, it’s about what we can do now to fix things. We’ve lost our ace and the enemy is advancing plans we know nothing about. This isn’t a remotely good position for us. We’ve been behind Connor since the beginning. It’s time to get ahead.”

  “How are we going to do that, ma’am?” Jen asked.

  The archmage sighed, suddenly looking her age. “I wish I knew.”

  “I will return to the fortress and see if the senior paladins know anything that might be of use. I’ll contact you as soon as I learn something.” Marie-Bell held out her hand and Jen shook it. “It’s been a pleasure battling with you.”

  “Likewise, and thanks for your help.”

  Uncle Andy stepped down from the throne. “Indeed, we all thank you. Would you be kind enough to carry a message to your leaders for me?”

  Marie-Bell bobbed a curtsy. “Of course, Majesty. I’m at your service.”

  “Excellent.” He turned to the captain of the guard. “Fetch my signet, wax, and a scroll from the desk in my office.”

  The captain bowed his head and rushed off at warlord speed. The archmage had barely finished conjuring a desk for the king to write on when the captain returned with the requested items. Uncle Andy sat at the desk and wrote a brief letter before sealing it with wax. When the wax had hardened he handed it to Marie-Bell.

  She accepted it with a bow. If the paladin was curious what he’d written she had the good manners not to ask. Marie-Bell turned on her heel and marched out of the throne room. Jen hadn’t known the other woman long, but she couldn’t help feeling she’d lost her last friend.

  “You’re right about us needing more information,” the archmage said. “I’d like to send you to The Tower so you can talk to Mariela. The demon scholar is there giving a talk to the students about cults and how they operate. She’ll be your best option for information.”

  “It’ll take me a week to travel there by horse.”

  “I’ll have a Crimson Legionnaire transport you, then continue on to Port Valcane to retrieve a copy of the cultists’ statements. There might be something in them that the regular investigators missed.”

  Jen nodded. “I’m ready.”

  Chapter 4

  Jen had never been to The Tower before. The black stone structure loomed over her, filling her with foreboding. How had Damien felt when he first arrived? Probably less nervous since Master Shen was with him. The Crimson Legionnaire that dropped Jen off hadn’t hu
ng around for a second longer than it took Jen to climb down from the back of the oversized horse he flew. She knew he was in a rush, but she’d still hoped for an escort to the Headmaster’s office.

  Oh, well. How hard could it be to find? According to her brother, non-sorcerers were only allowed on the first floor anyway. She’d just knock on every door until she found him or someone gave her directions.

  The empty courtyard seemed a stark contrast to the usually bustling grounds of The Citadel. What purpose did the walled-in space serve if no one used it? The guards patrolling the wall watched her as she walked to the short flight of steps up to the tall black doors. Jen was used to men staring at her, but for some reason it bothered her more than usual today. Worrying about Damien had made her especially short-tempered. She shot the most brazen guard a one-fingered salute and yanked on the doors. Despite their size, they swung open with only a modest effort.

  Inside, waiting in a foyer that reminded her of the night sky, was a beautiful woman in a scandalous black dress. She had to be Mistress Ann. Jen couldn’t imagine another sorcerer fitting Damien’s description so perfectly.

  “Mistress Ann.” Jen bowed to the sorcerer.

  “Just Ann, please. You’re Damien’s sister. I’ve been so looking forward to meeting you. Your brother is a wonderful young man. Will he be joining us?”

  She didn’t know about Damien. Jen debated telling her then shrugged, unable to think of a reason not to. “Damien’s missing. We believe he’s been captured by Connor Blackman.”

  The blood drained out of Ann’s already pale skin. “No. What happened?”

  Jen gave her a condensed version of events. “I’m hoping Mariela can shed some light on the situation. Can you show me to the Headmaster?”

  “Of course, he asked me to wait for you. He received a message from the archmage alerting him to your arrival.”

  They started down the left-hand hall. As they walked Ann said, “I can tell you a little about the Kingdom of Alexious. When I was helping Damien research Connor I came across the name several times. It’s what they used to call the haunted lands before they became the haunted lands. King Alexious was the last ruler and a warlock. Apparently, he sacrificed the entire kingdom to power his ascension to the Horned One’s side.”

  “So he’s like Connor’s idol.”

  Ann nodded. “You could say that.” They stopped in front of a closed door marked with a pentagram. “This is it. I’ll wait out here for you.”

  “Thanks.” Jen knocked and the door swung open on its own. She stepped inside a cluttered office and the door clicked shut behind her. “Headmaster?”

  The small, white-bearded man behind the desk smiled at her. “That’s right. Pleasure to meet you, Jennifer, though I wish it were under better circumstances. The archmage has provided me with a rough idea of what’s going on. I’m so sorry about Damien.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  The old man chuckled. “You’re a great deal like him. I remember the first day he arrived, so stiff and proper. In fact, he was still stiff and proper when he graduated. Never could convince him to call me by my first name. Anyway, we’re at your disposal. Mariela is waiting in conference room one. Just tell Ann and she’ll show you the way.”

  Jen bowed and turned to find the door already open. Sorcerers, heaven’s mercy, they were an odd bunch. Damien hadn’t been kidding about that.

  Her jaw clenched. The Headmaster talked like Damien was dead. Jen refused to believe that. Damien was too strong to fall easily.

  “Did your meeting go well?” Ann asked.

  “He was very polite, but the conversation didn’t really amount to much. Can you show me to conference room one?”

  Ann turned back the way they’d come, crossed the foyer and went through the opposite door. She stopped just inside. Through an open doorway, Jen saw a familiar face. Mariela’s dark hair had grown shoulder length and all signs of her near-death had vanished.

  She got out of her chair and walked around the long table that dominated the room. “Jennifer, so good to see you again.”

  Jen held out her hand, but Mariela brushed it aside and hugged her. Jen tensed, not used to such intimate contact. She should have expected it. After all, Jen had saved the woman’s life.

  Mariela stepped back, but kept her hands on Jen’s shoulders. “What can I do for you?”

  Jen glanced back at Ann who was still standing in the open doorway. “You’re welcome to join us. You studied this stuff with Damien so anything you can think of would help.”

  Ann smiled and slipped into a chair. Jen and Mariela sat side by side. Jen repeated her story for the third time and when she finished Mariela said, “Since you already know the Kingdom of Alexious is the haunted lands, I can’t add much there, but The Harvest is a much more obscure reference, at least among people that aren’t members of demon cults. It generally refers to a mass sacrifice.”

  “Like Alexious did when he wiped out his kingdom?” Ann asked.

  “Yes, though not usually on that scale. The king’s sacrifice is the largest harvest ever recorded. More often it refers to the members of one cult slaughtering the members of a rival.”

  That rang a bell in Jen. “You mean like the Horned One’s followers killing the followers of the Binder in Chains?”

  “Exactly. The question now is, does The Harvest referred to by the captured cultists reference what Connor Blackman is doing, or to another slaughter altogether? There I can’t help you.”

  Jen rubbed her temples. She hated this stuff. There was too much going on that she didn’t understand. All she wanted was to know where Connor had taken Damien so she could rescue him. “Let’s assume it refers to whatever Connor has planned. What part would the cult have played in it?”

  Mariela gave her a blank look. “I couldn’t say. From what you’ve told me all the leaders are dead and as a general rule cult leaders don’t share more information with their underlings than necessary.”

  “So I’m no further ahead than when I got here. Great, what am I supposed to do now?”

  “There’s one person who might be able to help, but I must warn you, he’s a little eccentric,” Mariela said.

  “I’ll take my chances.” Jen leaned forward, eager to seize any opportunity.

  “Okay, but don’t say I didn’t warn you. Dorius was my mentor when I first began studying demonology. He teaches at King’s College, though about half the time he’s out prowling around some ruin or cult hideout. He’s a genius in his field, but like many geniuses has a one-track mind. Still, if anyone can help you he can.”

  “If you’d like I’ll send a message to the college to make certain he’s there before you leave,” Ann said.

  “How can you be sure I’ll go?” Jen asked.

  Ann smiled though it looked a little sad. “What other options do you have?”

  Chapter 5

  Marie-Bell landed outside her old home, the massive fortress that blocked the only pass leading from the kingdom to the haunted lands. On the kingdom side the stone walls rose only thirty feet and measured fifteen feet thick. Formidable to be certain, but nothing beside the tiered triple walls that sealed off the pass. Those massive ramparts were twice as high and three times as thick. While the fortress was no barrier to flying demons, it did serve to stop everything else that tried to pass by. And should any demon try to fly anywhere in the area the paladins on duty would sense its presence and fly out to attack. Not that any demon powerful enough to fly would be so stupid that it would approach the fortress too closely.

  The paladins manning the wall had spotted her and gathered above the portcullis. Marie-Bell dismounted and let the white horse fade away. She shouldered her pack, hefted her hammer, and walked the last few yards to the gate.

  On the other side of the bars a severe woman glared at Marie-Bell with angry blue eyes. Approaching fifty, her blond hair shot with gray, she had three scars crisscrossing her face. She wore the familiar silver plate engraved with a styl
ized fortress that was the symbol of her office as commander. Considering that Marie-Bell snuck out in the night rather than asking permission she hadn’t expected a warm welcome.

  “So you’ve come crawling back already,” Commander Kendy said. “I’m surprised you lasted this long on your own. Give me one good reason I should let you back into our sacred fortress.”

  Marie-Bell fished the king’s message out of her pack and held it out. “I’m not crawling back, ma’am. The king himself asked me to deliver this message and fill you in on the current situation.”

  Commander Kendy moved closer to the bars and studied the seal. Her jaw bunched. “Open the portcullis!”

  A moment later the heavy iron barrier clanked up into the slot above. Marie-Bell ducked under the portcullis and handed the letter to her superior. The commander snatched it out of her hand.

  “Come along.”

  Marie-Bell followed Commander Kendy across the courtyard and into the main keep. Behind her she felt the glare of the wall guards burning into her back. Everyone was so regimented and orderly. They’d never understand the feelings that compelled her to leave the fortress and seek her destiny in the wider world. Marie-Bell didn’t fully understand it herself, but she knew she’d done the right thing.

  Everything looked just like she remembered; the three-story fortress where the paladins and initiates lived and trained; the stone forge, quiet today, but ready to fire up at a moment’s notice. Unlike normal knights, the paladins had no use for ordinary mounts so there was no stable, which pleased the initiates as they would have been the ones to have to clean it. Deeper in, out of sight, was the spare armory where the paladins guarding the walls could have easy access to replacement weapons.

  The commander pushed the fortress doors open and led Marie-Bell through the entrance and past the chapel. Marie-Bell paused and glanced into the beautiful room. The light from the sun filtered through the stained glass windows sending multicolored lights dancing through the pews. The stone altar gleamed, its precious decorations polished to a high shine.

 

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