The Nemedian Trilogy: Book 01 - The Wizard's Magic Kingdom

by Jake Adler

  He quickly scanned the area and spied the expended oil vats used earlier to set alight the few remaining sewer exits. Nearby, small pools of oil lay congealing upon the cobbles.

  “Cloth! I need cloth!” His eyes frantically swept the area.

  Jetzan withdrew a knife and fumbled inside his leggings. Within seconds he had removed his underpants. “Will this do?” he panted, dangling the ruined item before him.

  Baxan stifled a smile and then quickly grabbed hold of them, “Everybody do exactly the same!” He yelled as he proceeded to tie the item around a stick of dynamite fitted with a short fuse. He ran towards the pool of sludge and oil and then spread the thick mess all over it. Glancing over his shoulder, he spied a Troll with its back turned to him, lit the fuse and then threw it directly towards it. The oil caused it to stick fast onto the back of the creature’s plate mail. Within seconds it exploded, punching a lethal hole clear through the creature’s chest, killing it instantly.

  Three further Trolls were quickly slaughtered in a similar fashion by the use of Baxan’s sticky bombs. Having run out of underwear, a soldier promptly offered them his and they felled a fifth Troll. There were five of the creatures remaining and although slow of mind, they had seen what had been happening. Instinctively the surviving Trolls turned towards Baxan. He needn’t have worried. Armed with the knowledge of what to do, the Captain of the guard had already ordered a group of the men to copy Baxan’s actions. Sticky bombs now flew at the Trolls from all directions and they swiftly joined their brethren in the afterlife.

  The Orcs and Goblins were a different matter altogether. They had now broken formation and rampaged chaotically across the streets. A group of large Orcs, their armour heavily coated with blood approached them.

  “Die scum!” Gizurr yelled.

  The Orcs charged. A strikingly tall Orc with one eye thundered his battle down towards Gizurr. At the last moment, he managed to block him, feeling his arms quiver with the force of the blow. He took full advantage of his height differential and spun underneath and to the side of the Orc, seeing its armpits exposed beneath its armour and speared Blaze deep inside its ribcage.

  Jetzan faced an Orc Commander. He shifted the weight of his one handed sword in his hand and silently admonished himself for not taking an earlier opportunity to pick up a discarded shield. As the Orc commander charged with his two handed battle axe, Jetzan dropped to one knee and rolled to his left, taking the creature by surprise. Immediately, he regretted his move as he struggled to regain his feet in his cumbersome heavy armour.

  Sensing its opportunity, the Orc ran toward him, its battle axe raised high above its head to deliver the killing blow. Out of nowhere a man appeared, yelling the battle cry of Takrak as he plunged his sword deep into the creature’s neck. It dropped to its knees, a brief startled expression passing across its face before it fell down dead onto the bloodied ground.

  The man swiftly nodded an acknowledgement towards Jetzan before disappearing back into the midst of battle. He was gone but he was instantly unforgettable as his large lower fangs gave away his mixed Orcish heritage. Jetzan smiled faintly, and shook his head, grateful that the man was on his side. He quickly scrambled to his feet and picked up an abandoned shield as he moved forward into the chaos.

  Chapter 15

  A nervous and pasty-faced young Wood Nymph arrived at the main hall as the companions were having breakfast. He quietly handed King Belenus a sealed envelope, bowed and then promptly left. The King opened the document, his expression becoming dark as his eyes scanned its contents.

  He stared directly at Master Bedwyr, “Dire news from Ellington,” he paused and shifted uncomfortably in his chair, “it is about the college and it is about you.”

  The Grand Mage raised his eyebrows, “I’m listening.”

  The King paused again then spoke, his voice tightening, “I have known you for many years Bedwyr. That is why I know that what they are accusing you of will be a lie.” He saw his old friend frown in confusion, “There is no easy way to put this so I shall just come straight out with it. They are accusing you and the College of Mages of necromancy. They have a signed confession from you admitting to it. They are also saying that although you are most likely dead, if not, you must be killed on sight.”

  “This is preposterous!” Master Bedwyr thundered as he rose from his chair in anger, “this confession is a fake! I must speak with the senior mages and –.”

  “They have all been executed.” King Belenus swiftly cut in.

  Master Bedwyr’s face drained of all colour, “Who ordered this?” His voice was now barely a faint whisper.

  “Councillor Delabo. He is the last surviving Councillor of Ellington.”

  “Last surviving?” Master Bedwyr asked faintly.

  The King grimaced, “The rest were slaughtered. A couple of weeks ago two demons entered the council gardens when their Council was in session. Councillor Delabo has blamed it on the College due to their use of necromancy.”

  “What about the trainee mages?”

  “They have been imprisoned. The entire College of Mages has been destroyed, save for the library.”

  The King’s eyes softened as he saw the look of devastation on his old friend’s face. He loved Master Bedwyr like a brother. They had known one another since they were children. He was no fool, during his time as king he had come across many plots and acts of treachery aimed at obtaining power.

  “The loss of the College of Mages at a time like this is very fortuitous for the demons.” King Belenus stated his thoughts simply.

  Master Bedwyr blinked rapidly, “Indeed,” he glanced sharply at Ethan and Cara, “Ethan we must enact the ritual today. Cara, I need you now more than ever to help me rescue the trainee mages from their imprisonment.”

  “But we -.” Cara paused, realising that to leave him now would be impossible, “of course,” she dipped her head, letting her hair fall forwards to cover her face.

  “Time for Lugus.” King Belenus smiled faintly at the Grand Mage.

  Master Bedwyr’s eyes glinted. When they were young men they had both been taught the many ways of subterfuge. Lugus was a character that formed part of the Grand Mage’s repertoire of secrecy. It consisted of a simple but powerful spell of illusion that changed his physical appearance. As he was now a fugitive, he would need to become Lugus once more.

  The Grand Mage breathed in deeply, closing his eyes briefly as he felt his heart beat slow to a more steady pace, “Ethan, you need to find the equivalent location to the Throne of Vines in your world and only a Wood Nymph can help you find it.”

  Ethan nodded solemnly.

  “I can also see in ultraviolet. This will help us in tracking the magical energy paths that lead to the second location.” Talina’s expression was stern and Ethan wondered briefly what had caused her change of countenance towards him.

  “How do we get back to Nemedia?” Ethan asked.

  “An intelligent question,” the Grand Mage rose from his chair and began to pace the floor, “I spoke of how you would learn more about your ring while in Findias. I believe now that now that only by using it will you learn more. I will give you the incantations necessary for you to travel between our worlds and your ring will aid you.” He glared sternly at Ethan, “promise me that you will not return until the second seal has been closed.”

  “You have my promise.” Ethan responded firmly.

  For the remainder of the morning they finalised their plans. Ethan had been given the necessary scrolls and incantations to achieve his many tasks. There were no words needed to be passed between Ethan and Cara as they knew that the lives of many depended upon them. It was with a sense of great urgency that they set out to arrive later that day at the Throne of Vines.

  * * * *

  They had travelled with little rest as they journeyed swiftly towards the Ghemand forest. Upon departing Fort Mavak, they had identified two distinct trails. The first one headed South West towards the heartland of the
Dwarves and the second, headed directly West. It was the Western trail that confused them the most. Although its tracks were faint following the recent rains, there was no evidence of anything large or heavy having travelled that way. The dying soldier had been insistent that the High Dragon was being taken prisoner to Cave Mirin, yet nothing corroborated his story. The remaining trail led away from the cave and headed directly towards battle, so it would be illogical to take a prisoner that way.

  With a growing sense of unease they followed the Western trail. The enemy had nearly an entire week’s head start on them so there would be little time to gain the help needed to intercept the High Dragon’s captors before they reached the cave. Although they rarely tolerated outsiders, the Hesparin possessed a renowned hatred of Goblins in particular and Ellaminva decided that she would use this knowledge when she met them.

  Her tired eyes picked out a change in colour of the terrain below, as it changed from the soft green of the grassy plains to a much deeper sweep of green that signalled that the forest was below them. Daylight was fading and dark clouds swirled ominously above as they finally landed within a clearing just North of Ghemand forest. As Ellaminva dismounted, her legs suddenly gave way and she leaned hard against Vank’s body to steady herself.

  “Are you alright?” he asked in concern.

  Ellaminva nodded wearily. A sudden gust of cold wind ripped through her clothing as she scanned the line of trees ahead them. She caught a glimpse of something moving, “What was that?” she asked in alarm.

  “Not sure, it might have been an animal.” Vank replied hesitantly.

  Whatever it was, it was gone now. Heavy rain now began to pound the earth, rapidly filling the air with cascading sheets of grey water. Ellaminva shivered as a steady stream of cold water drenched her undershirt. They needed to find shelter fast and they would not find it out in the open grasslands. With their heads bent against the prevailing winds, they entered the depths of the forest. The fauna that surrounded them was thick and dense, acting as a welcome windbreaker against the storm that had begun to rage all around them. The deeper they entered the forest, the warmer and more welcoming it became.

  A shrill hoot of an owl signalled that the evening was now upon them and they felt their eyelids begin to grow heavy with weariness. There were no signs of the Hesparin. Vank heaved aloud a sigh and waded into a dense thicket, stopping when he reached its centre and then slowly spun around in a circle as he rested his huge body down upon it. His sheer bulk and size broke and flattened copious amounts of branches filled with soft fresh leaves, immediately creating a bed of fresh vegetation. He spent a few moments tidying up his creation and then nodded to himself in satisfaction as he finally wrapped his tail around his body.

  Ellaminva smiled softly at her dear friend’s antics and then followed him into the heart of the thicket. He had carefully left a space between his body and tail for her to rest that night, a space which she had used many times before during their many summer evenings spent together staring up at the stars and talking about their dreams. She rested her face against his familiar body, enjoying its warmth and hearing his powerful heart beat deep inside his chest. “Tomorrow we find the Hesparin,” she whispered and closed her eyes. Within moments, they were both fast asleep.

  * * * *

  GraJin’s lips curled in rage as he paced the floor of the Council chambers. His Blood Trackers had failed to kill the Grand Mage and now his current whereabouts were unknown. All that he knew was that the human was last seen flying towards the East, but he could easily have turned to the South towards the Elves.

  His dark eyes glittered as he considered his options. He had sensed the use of an ancient and powerful magic at the College of Mages. The only other time that he had sensed something similar was when the Brid Clodagh had been called forth to return GraJin and his brethren back inside the veil. He could only surmise that something similar had happened again. He needed to kill the Grand Mage and those that travelled with him as soon as possible.

  The invasion of Takrak was now underway and the stronghold of the Dwarves would soon be annihilated. His second army were already on their way to wipe out all the remaining Dwarven towns and forts that littered the heartlands of Nemedia and would soon pass into Ellington, which GraJin would ensure remained open target to attack.

  He needed someone within the Fae lands to discreetly gather information on the whereabouts of the Grand Mage. His face suddenly cracked into a grin as he remembered the Molgarth. Yes, the Molgarth would find out where the Grand Mage was and what his plans were. His eyes narrowed, as he realised that needed more options and then came upon the idea of setting a trap for the old human mage.

  He needed somebody that the Grand Mage trusted to deliver a message that would lure him out into the open. Councillor Delabo’s body was useless for this as questions were already being raised about why he had ordered the execution of the senior mages without a trial. He spat on the floor in anger, leaving a frothy pool of mess upon its polished black marble.

  There was a knock on the door, “Come,” GraJin growled.

  Captain Vanimar entered the room, “My lord you have another visitor.”

  As before, the Captain’s face remained expressionless but for the first time, GraJin took the time to look at him properly and saw in his eyes the deep seated hatred that the man held for him. “Do you know Master Bedwyr personally?” GraJin asked in a neutral tone.

  “I – er.” The question had taken Captain Vanimar completely by surprise and he nervously licked his dry lips.

  GraJin’s eyes glinted. The man’s reaction gave him all the information he needed to know. He motioned him towards one of the chairs, “Please Captain, take a seat.”

  Captain Vanimar slowly did as he was bid. A bead of sweat suddenly appearing on his forehead as his face drained of all colour.

  “I have a necklace for you.” GraJin smiled wickedly as he held forth a black stone attached to a long gold chain.

  Chapter 16

  Their short journey had been surprisingly warm and pleasant as they made their way towards The Throne of Vines. The forest hummed with the songs of many birds and sunlight dappled the ground with the promise of summer.

  Within less than an hour, the terrain around them had begun to change and the flat ground gave way to a steep incline. Securing their weapons firmly on their backs, they slowly began to descend, grabbing hold of roots and vines for support as they did so. After nearly two hours of laboured activity they had reached the bottom of a ravine and entered a small clearing that contained a lake.

  The lake was more than fifteen metres wide and largely oval in shape and was fed by a sheer waterfall that fell from the forests above. It seemed to be coloured an azure blue as if something had been added to its waters. Ethan gingerly approached its edge but saw nothing other than its sides fell sharply away, indicating that it was very deep.

  He glanced at the pillars of bright sunlight that beamed into the ravine and marvelled its beauty. A rustling noise caught his attention and he turned to see King Belenus yanking away at a tangle of vines.

  “Ah, here it is,” the King panted in satisfaction.

  His efforts had revealed a faint outline of something. With a swift nod of his head, he ordered two of his royal assistants to continue clearing the area. Within a few moments, a rather drab and moss covered stone object was revealed.

  “The Throne of Vines,” Talina gasped in awe.

  Ethan raised an eyebrow, not sure what to make of the rather sorry looking thing, “What’s next?” he asked simply.

  “You and I both drink from the waters of the forest.” Talina replied. Ethan’s eyes flicked over towards Master Bedwyr who nodded in agreement.

  “Why is it so blue?” Ethan asked, sniffing the air as he approached the lake.

  “There are many theories,” King Belenus responded while squinting at him through the ravine’s bright sunlight, “some people believe that it is due to mineral deposits from the
forest, others believe that it is due to the strong spirit magic that resides here. Others believe something else entirely.”

  Ethan dipped an empty flask into its waters then gingerly raised it to his lips and drank. Its waters were cool and refreshing and left no unpleasant aftertaste. He passed the flask to Talina who also took a sip. She smiled faintly at him, “I must bless the throne before you sit upon it.” She slowly approached the throne and spoke a brief incantation. After a few moments she nodded towards Master Bedwyr to signal that her task was complete.

  “Good,” Master Bedwyr smiled then motioned Ethan to sit upon the throne. The Grand Mage placed a comforting hand upon his shoulder, “For a short time you will be able to see and sense everything in Nemedia. You must ignore these temptations as they expose you to the spirit world. Focus only upon reading aloud the words of your first scroll.”

  “What about the second scroll?” Ethan frowned in confusion.

  The Grand Mage nodded swiftly, “You will read that one next.”

  Ethan closed his eyes and breathed in deeply, steadying himself for what was about to happen. After a short time, knowing that many eyes were upon him, he opened his eyes and glanced down to find that it was written in a language that resembled Latin. He looked up nervously to see Cara, her eyes glistening with tears which she blinked back rapidly in an attempt to conceal.

  He smiled at her faintly and sat down upon the throne, feeling the outline of its hard, cold bulk beneath him. At first, nothing happened. Then the forms of his companions began to shift and change and everything became tinged a deep blue colour.

  He blinked and found himself flying above the tree tops of a forest, seeing their leaves glisten in response to the afternoon’s sunlight. He blinked again and found himself inside a large room with a golden desk centred upon on a floor of black polished marble. A man sat behind the desk, scribbling furiously upon a piece of fresh parchment. The man stopped and looked up, his dark eyes immediately burrowing menacingly into Ethan’s, causing him to cry out in fear as he sensed that the man was utterly evil.