Age of Demons_In Search of the Amulet

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Age of Demons_In Search of the Amulet Page 16

by David Lawrence


  Still under Caspar’s Silence! spell they followed Talarren as he crept forward another two hundred yards along the tunnel. They could not help but think of Alex’s aunt all those years ago, along with one or two servants carrying his brother. They would have raced in terrified panic through this very tunnel.

  Talarren felt certain the Grove of Purple Ivy stood to gain possession of Harrad Castle once the proscribed twenty years had passed. Why else would this Leroy Boadstool be orchestrating such major renovations? It would be a gift bestowed on them by King Dagan for services rendered.

  Caspar’s spell disarmed one final trap. It was near the end of the tunnel. A pit opened up, leading to a vast empty chasm. Then it closed. Caspar nodded. Talarren signalled to Elfindi, who crept silently ahead directly over where the deep pit had opened up moments earlier.

  A tense silence followed. Elfindi crept forward. He placed his ear against the door. He listened for some time, straining. No sound. He signalled. Everyone brandished staff and weapons. Elfindi silently unpicked the lock and slowly opened the door. A luxurious chamber lay before them. Six torches placed in slots around all four walls lit up the room. An oil lamp resting on a thin silver tray flickered brightly. A huge, pampered bed filled one wall. Intricate furniture of quality wood matched bed and décor – cupboards, wardrobes, cabinets, chests, stands and two bedside tables. Gold pewters and candelabra, silverware, tapestries depicting druidic feasts, ornaments and symbols of seasons and animals filled walls and surfaces. A magnificent jade vase stood near a wall proudly exhibiting Harrad’s coat-of-arms.

  Alex’s eyes opened wide as a dinner plate. Furniture, furnishings and rugs were all of rare quality. There was much wealth behind whoever lived here. Clearly a druid. No doubt Leroy Boadstool. A thick door with bolts led to other lower level rooms. Elfindi stealthily crept across the chamber and deftly placed his ear to the door. Alex raced to a cabinet and tried to open it but could not. He fumbled through cupboards and found a key, slotting it desperately into a desk drawer where he suspected important papers were filed.

  Still under Caspar’s silence spell, Elfindi placed finger to his lips. He nodded. He could hear something. He strained. Talarren stood beside him, sword in hand. Kron’s eyes fell on gold candelabra, silverware and other valuable treasures. He nodded appreciatively.

  Overcome with anticipation, Alex put down his sword as he witnessed the desk, drawers and papers. Surely he would find his Title Deeds somewhere here. Everyone else was too preoccupied with what lay ahead. He crept toward the desk protected by the silence spell. He began to rummage…

  Caspar suddenly felt a sick feeling in his bones. As a member of Ehud, an Order dedicated to right living and goodness, he felt the presence of a sinister evil. Whoever was next door was most likely Leroy Boadstool, the Purple Ivy druid and Dark Arts practitioner. Caspar began a Dispel Magic! spell. He signalled to Talarren. Talarren rallied his party. Elfindi held up ten fingers, then raised two. Twelve feet away. Both his hands opened and closed, then he raised two fingers, indicating two people talking; no other sound. Under Talarren’s directions, they prepared themselves. Talarren gripped the door handle. Elfindi stood with bow fully drawn. Kron lay prostrate, his crossbow loaded and ready to fire. They both aimed where Elfindi pointed. Caspar cast his Open Door! spell. Razel cast a Stun! spell. Talarren raised one finger. Then two. Then three. He yanked open the door.

  Sitting at a dinner table was a middle aged man and a younger woman. Elfindi’s arrow and Kron’s bolt sailed through the still, unsuspecting air. The arrow struck Leroy’s chest, the bolt pierced his neck. He tumbled backwards on his chair. The woman was stunned and silenced by Razel’s Stun! spell.

  Punctured in neck and lung and bundled onto his back, Leroy still had his wits about him. He desperately felt for his staff. Elfindi loosed another arrow. It plunged into the druid’s armpit. Talarren bound inside. Caspar’s Dispel Magic! spell generated a silvery shimmer as it hovered around Leroy’s convulsing body, preventing him from sending a final death curse on Talarren whose sword split his skull, staining his clothes and the polished floorboards.

  His young wife found herself unable to move from Razel’s Stun! spell. Her staff lay propped up against their dining table, like a waiting child. Her eyes filled with horror, like a horse attacked by wolves. She and her husband wore long robes bearing an embroidered ivy entwined around a dagger – the insignia of the Grove of Purple Ivy.

  Talarren noted that the door opposite was bolted shut from the inside. He signalled to Elfindi to stand guard just in case. Talarren stuffed a napkin into the druidess’s mouth, then began to truss her up.

  “Finally a spell worked,” Kron mouthed to Elfindi, pointing his shoulder at Razel while she watched Talarren truss up the druidess.

  Caspar placed his hand on Talarren’s arm and shook his head. It was too risky to keep a prisoner, especially a druid, surrounded by goblins and a minotaur.

  Throughout his childhood Talarren had been brought up to honour the fairer sex, whether queens, highborn ladies, servant girls or common wenches. Chivalry and honour formed part of the Ranger’s code to promote good and fight evil. Fair treatment of prisoners also lay strong within him. Despite this, part of him agreed with Caspar. Keeping the druidess alive was extremely risky.

  He continued to truss her up. Caspar placed pressure on Talarren’s arm. He shook his head with conviction. They needed to eliminate every chance of being discovered. It would mean certain death if they were. They were left with no alternative. Trussing up a person given over to Dark Arts was letting evil flourish. Both Caspar and Talarren wore sworn to fight evil, to give it no quarter. They had dedicated their lives to such a cause. Talarren hesitated. Caspar was right. This druidess was a minion of an evil demon – which one, they could not know just yet. These druids made child sacrifices to their demon. They had plans to dominate Reswald, to pave the way for the dominion of evil. Her master, whichever demon she served, was intent upon hastening the Age of Demons, a thought that kept Talarren up at night, and which made the Guardians of Rohalgamoth cold with dread.

  The others watched on. They desperately hoped Caspar would convince the Ranger to execute the druidess.

  Finally, Talarren nodded. They could not let her live. She was pure evil and intent on causing untold destruction on innocent people. Her order was outlawed. He and Caspar had the authority to act on behalf of legitimate authority to fight and destroy evil. This is what they must do. It had already been a successful raid. Killing a Purple Ivy druid was a victory in itself. Talarren turned away. He began walking slowly back toward the room from which they’d come. Kron stood where he was, battle axe in hand. Elfindi stood by the other door, sword in hand. Razel watched, too frightened to take her eyes away from their steely, elderly cleric, so well-groomed and neat in his pressed robes emblazoned with the symbol and insignia of the Order of Ehud, a starburst split by a yellow lightning strike. He unstrapped his enchanted mace. It glowed a mild blue. He solemnly walked behind the druidess, whose petrified eyes pleaded with him. She knew his intentions. They were still under Caspar’s silence spell. The silence produced an eerie, outer-worldly feel as Caspar recited a ritual incantation.

  With determined finality and deadly accuracy, Caspar’s mace dropped. No sound was made on fatal impact with her bare head, creating a yet more eerie sensation. The jolt of his mace brought relief to Caspar’s bones. He turned to Razel whose face had turned white. She had never witnessed a public execution, rare as they were in Lafarrhine. And such an execution was administered by a man she held in enormous regard, though irritating in manner. She could not help but shake, nor stop herself examining the mess Caspar’s mace had made. She found herself conflicted. Her fellow novice prestidigitators had counselled her not to go on quests until she was older and more experienced. They told her to her face she did not have the stomach for it, young as she was; she did not have the maturity to handle complicated moral situations. They told her point blank she did not have
the stomach to make hard decisions when confronted with evil. Perhaps Caspar was not as callous as he appeared. Perhaps his many years of experience fighting evil guided him to take the actions he did?

  Such was their evil age, she realised. Such executions were necessary. This was why she agreed to join Talarren in the first place, to develop her magic and perform some small service in Talarren’s quest to fight evil and execute justice across all realms and kingdoms. This druidess was a sworn enemy of goodness, an enemy of humanity and peace. They could not afford to have such people in their midst. She remembered her parents advising her not to enter the First Circle at such a young age. But she did not listen. She knew what she wanted.

  Even so, the crushed head of the druidess churned Razel’s stomach. She did not think she would ever forget the sight. She fell back on First Wizard’s confidence in her. Why would he have suggested she accompany Talarren if he did not think she was ready?

  Talarren bound back into the room, his horrified face revealing something very wrong. Elfindi instinctively kept his post by the door, as any experienced adventurer would. The others followed Talarren.

  Alex lay motionless in a crumpled heap. Two hideous black holes punctured the tunic at his back. Over him, poised for a strike, coiled a gigantic snake, its skin patterned with black and orange diagonal scales. It was truly horrifying. Its long, curved fangs dripped with black poison. Its red slanted eyes fixed on Talarren.

  It struck with incredible speed. But Talarren was faster. He drove his sword into its open mouth. It hissed as it recoiled, utterly surprised by pain and Talarren’s unthinkable speed. The silence spell had broken. Its hiss filled the room.

  Caspar wielded his staff while calling out a command. A smokey, wispy curl of black substance formed supple rings that surrounded the snake’s open jaws, then constricted, closing them shut. It threw its upper body this way and that in an effort to shake off these magical coils, but to no avail. Talarren and Kron leapt forward with sword and battle axe, striking its head. Both blows struck deep into the serpent’s skull. It slumped heavily to the floor.

  A large wooden trapdoor lay open beside it. Clearly its master wanted its lair close by.

  Caspar raced to Alex. If its fangs didn’t kill the lad, he feared, its poison would. He felt Alex’s chest. It rose faintly. Blood dripped down his mouth. His half-closed eyes slowly searched, but could not lock in on Talarren. He coughed, spilling blood onto his tunic.

  “I cannot see,” he whispered, then closed his eyes and fell silent.

  In Alex’s open hand, Caspar noticed as he was about to finish his healing spell, were the Title Deeds to Harrad Castle. He was too late. He gently placed his hand on Alex’s forehead as a sign of respect.

  Desk drawers hung open. Other documents littered the floor.

  “The irony,” Caspar whispered to himself.

  Kron bowed out of respect. Razel did the same.

  Caspar and Talarren hastily scanned through random documents. They took anything they considered important or that could have significance. Kron searched Leroy’s body and found keys to his iron-bound wooden chest, which he unlocked. Inside lay coins of all types – copper, bronze, silver, gold and platinum. Not wanting to weigh themselves down in ways that could jeopardise their fighting ability or safety, Kron and Elfindi filled their pouches with platinum and gold. Kron grabbed the gold candelabra and secured it to his back alongside his battle axe.

  Stuffing papers into his satchel, Talarren retraced their steps out the chamber and back up the secret passage. He carried Alex’s lifeless body over his shoulder. Everyone was too focussed on escaping to mourn Alex. They avoided the pitfalls and traps and passed the dead spiders till they finally came to the exit. Caspar’s Stasis! spell was still in force. The Hominis Tree made no attempt to destroy them. They repeated their strategy of bypassing the dagger brambles, this time from Caspar’s spell. They quickly made their way through birch and oak to the log outpost where Perry stood watch.

  “Back already. Is Alex okay?” Their faces told Perry all he needed to know.

  “Quickly,” Talarren said, “load our prisoners into the wagon. Bring the horses.”

  “Shan’t we leave the prisoners here?” Kron asked.

  “Bring them for now. We’ll decide later what to do with them. Make haste, everyone! Quickly, we must leave immediately.” They loaded the four kingsmen and goblin into the wagon, hitched horses, gathered belongings, dug heels into horses and rode full speed toward Cuthbert Castle.

  Talarren travelled with Caspar and Elfindi on horseback. Perry drove the wagon with their prisoners. Razel and Kron sat with them.

  “What happened?” Lieutenant Ditherspoon asked. “Where are you taking us?”

  “You’ll see. For now, be silent.” Kron’s tone left them in no doubt it would be best for them to obey him. Without Talarren nearby, Hazbeen shut his wide, yellow mouth tight, his eyes darting to Kron’s battle axe and then to Kron, then darting away when the ferocious-looking dwarf caught his eye.

  Some time later Talarren revealed Alex’s dead body and puncture holes to Leitenant Ditherspoon and his men, proving to them what sort of snake was living in Harrad Castle. He also showed the Title Deeds proving Alex was right. Talarren had forbidden anyone to share any information to the soldiers about the nature of their quest except that they were travelling back to Lafarrhine. He wanted Dagan’s men to believe they were heading south when in fact they were heading north. He did not want soldiers following them.

  Above their heads a bluish-black sky turned a darker hue of blue. Lines of orange beauty coloured the underside of fluffy clouds floating over the distant horizon. Talarren breathed in deeply.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Some Documents

  THEY SLEPT ROUGH IN a clearing away from the highway, taking turns at watch duty. Talarren calmly woke everyone at three o’clock. Hazbeen was wide awake, still tightly bound. Talarren instructed Razel to perform a Sleep! Spell on the kingsmen. They left them by the side of the road, fast asleep, while everyone else left for Cuthbert Castle using light from Razel’s wand.

  “It will take these guards at least two days to reach Reswaldtown,” Talarren guessed, “unless they hitch a ride from a passing carriage. Given we’ve taken their official livery, weapons and money, I doubt anyone will believe their story. This will give us enough time. We should be close to the border by the time Dagan hears of us. If he sends troops, he’ll think we’re heading south for Lafarrhine. Now, let’s make haste for Cuthbert Castle. I want to read these documents, then head for the Highlands as soon as we can.”

  They arrived at Cuthbert Castle moments before dawn. Lord Cuthbert greeted them in his reception room. They laid Alex out on a table, wrapped in Leroy’s bedsheets. Caspar passed the Title Deeds to Lord Cuthbert, whose eyes welled with tears. He could not remove his eyes from the fatal fang marks which had passed completely through Alex’s young body.

  He looked vacantly at the document. “These will do the lad no good now,” he said sadly.

  “We must study the other documents,” Talarren said.

  Almost without hearing, Cuthbert nodded, waving Talarren and Caspar away to his library for privacy. Hazbeen ended up in Cuthbert’s dungeon. Perry, Elfindi, Kron and Razel were taken to the servant’s mess where they ate a hearty breakfast with the servants and maids. Once more the maids whispered among themselves the quantity of eggs, bacon, turnips, black bread and goat’s cheese Kron consumed. Razel found herself continually reminding Perry and Elfindi to watch what they were saying, reminding them of Talarren’s orders.

  “Such a secretive sod,” Elfindi complained. “I’ll wager Talarren is not even his real name.”

  “It is,” Perry said. “Aelred and I grew up with him. He’s a brother to us, but he’s much more like Aelred. They’re closer than brothers, those two. And they share weighty secrets of high affairs.”

  “All stuff about saving the world, I’ll wager,” Elfindi said.

 
; “I should be glad they do have secrets,” Razel objected. “We can trust those two with our lives. I couldn’t speak more highly of Aelred or Talarren.”

  Upon hearing his name, servants pressed for news of Aelred, the mighty hero whose reputation extended as far east as the Feral Fringes.

  “Is he married yet?” asked one young female servant.

  “I’m not,” Perry answered, showing his dimples. Razel rolled her eyes. “No, Aelred has pledged himself to fighting evil, like Talarren. Although,” Perry said in sotto voice looking around as if Aelred were about to come in any moment, “he was unofficially engaged some years ago. He broke it off. It broke her heart.”

  “When did he become a paladin?” another servant asked. Another indication, as if Perry needed any more, of how paladins were universally revered.

  “At twenty five. I attended his ceremony on Mount Rohalgamoth itself. Both Guardians officiated. It was grand,” Perry said, his eyes dreamy as he recalled the glorious event, full of colour, pageantry, pomp and ceremony. “That’s when he officially became a paladin. One of the youngest ever to achieve such an honour.”

  “Are you a paladin?” a starry-eyed maidservant asked.

  “Well…” Perry began.

  “Please,” Razel snapped, then turned to the maidservant. “He’s as much a paladin as his beagle’s unwiped backside. Why don’t you bring us more bacon and coffee?”

  “I’ll thank you to keep my beagle out of it,” Perry snapped.

  “And his unwiped backside,” Elfindi added. “That’s the beagle’s, not Perry’s.”

  Poring through Leroy’s documents gave Talarren a headache. “Caspar, I have here three ransom letters sent by a Norse chieftain requesting gold for King Harrad’s release. How is it possible they’ve ended up in a druid’s cabinet twenty years later?”

 

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