Ruin Mist Chronicles Bundle

by Robert Stanek

  “Chancellor,” returned Valam as he turned to his father, the king, and knelt appropriately. “Your Royal Majesty, father, you look well.”

  “Dispense pleasantries,” King Andrew said, the thick lines of his jaw easing a bit. “It is good you are here, Valam, my son. We could use a fresh mind on this delicate subject.”

  The king nodded to Keeper Martin who started to recount the events of the past few days in detail. Prince Valam stopped him, saying, “Father Jacob and Adrina have already caught me up on all that.”

  “I can believe that… Is Father Jacob still attending to Seth?” Keeper Martin asked, the salt-and-pepper gray of his beard and hair marking him clearly as one of the elders in the room, yet there was no insignia on his lapel this day to speak of his office as Head of Lore Keepers. Instead, his rank of office was indicated by the arcane staff that he held in his right hand as he stood beside the long, triangular shaped table that filled the center of the great hall.

  “Yes,” Valam and Adrina answered at the same time.

  “Good,” returned the king. His heavy oaken chair was to the right of where Keeper Martin stood. Directly in front of him and across the table were the concentric rings of pews where the lower council members sat. “We could also use his help here at council. We were just discussing how best to bring aid to Queen Mother of East Reach. Go on, Chancellor Yi, finish what you were going to say.”

  The chancellor, seated to the king’s right, turned to the king and asked, “Your Majesty, may I digress for a moment and ask the prince—”

  King Andrew motioned with his hand before the chancellor could complete his request. The great green jewel on his ring finger glittered in the soft white light of the candelabras spread throughout the council hall. Its soft green matched the glow from the jewels in the crown he wore. There was great purpose in wearing the crown jewels this day. Both had been gifts from the elven people to the Alder, the first ruler of Great Kingdom. That time had been simpler, before the bloody wars in which the brother races turned against each other.

  “Who is running South Province in your absence? Did my brother condone your departure?”

  “Chancellor Yi, you worry unnecessarily. Chancellor Van’te is handling matters in my absence,” replied Valam, understanding the direction the question was supposed to lead him in.

  A silent message passed between the two that said, “Yes, I received your message.” The reply was, “Good, good, very good.”

  Chancellor Yi smiled as he broke into a soliloquy. His thoughts were so evoking and precise in explaining his ideas on the probabilities of succeeding in a sustained campaign against King Mark of West Reach and his allies that there was no possibility of contention. Then surprisingly the chancellor reversed his premise and had all equally persuaded that dismal failure lay ahead. His intent was to open all sides of the discussion and lead the council in a positive direction, and on that he succeeded overwhelmingly.

  “Very good points, Chancellor Yi,” Keeper Martin said. “Still, I think convincing the populace is the key. We cannot do this thing alone”—Keeper Martin’s eyes probed those of the council members as he talked, speaking as much to them as about the peoples and places they represented—“We need the support and resources of our allies. Without this support Great Kingdom will founder like a ship that takes on too much water in heavy seas.”

  King Andrew sat truer in his chair. He turned away from Adrina and Valam. His eyes betrayed his concern for his children and much more. “Yes, Keeper Martin, let us hope for popular support and plan a way to achieve it. A good reminding of the prophecies should aid the task.”

  “Agreed, sire,” added Yi.

  Prince Valam asked, “Chancellor Yi, have you received word from the Free Cities yet? Are they sending an emissary?”

  “Good question, that reminds me…” answered the chancellor moving around one side of the enormous table so that he was standing in front of the lower council. “Yes, the governor of Solntse himself is coming as a representative for all the free cities. He should arrive within the week. Representatives from High Province and the Western Territories will arrive soon afterward, but no definite dates can be prescribed. No word from the Minor Kingdoms yet as there are no longer keepers there to contact.”

  Keeper Martin cleared his throat, quickly added, “Several are journeying there now. It shouldn’t take long. Once they arrive I shall know of it. I will tell the council at once.” What he did not say—what no one said—was what had happened to the other keepers.

  “Chancellor Volnej, we have not heard from you. Usually you are brimming with clever solutions,” said King Andrew sardonically. He was still incensed about the proceedings in the Territories and in the south.

  “Forgive me, sire, this combined upper and lower council will take some getting used to. I just wish that Brother Seth were here today. We shall need maps and many tactical diagrams drawn up. Also, we must increase the production of ships, armor, and weapons. It is a logistical nightmare. I will attend to those details,” Volnej said, grinning happily as he spoke the last few words. “I will keep you up to date. And, I believe it is a viable excuse…”

  “Yes, it is double-edged is it not, good chancellor. See that it is carried out.”

  King Andrew dismissed the council with a wave of his hands but asked Chancellor Yi, Keeper Martin, and Prince Valam to remain. Adrina understood that she was being dismissed as well and went without protest. Andrew Alder stood then at the head of the great triangular meeting table. The three, Yi, Martin and Valam, sat on one side of the table close to the king.

  “The Duardins and Braddabaggons are noble old kingdom families,” Andrew said, speaking directly to Valam, of Yi Duardin and Martin Braddabaggon. “Their families have served the greater good for generations. In the dark times ahead you will need their counsel. I bind them to you, my son, and you to them. Trust their words, for there are none who have served so well.”

  Prince Valam tried to speak but King Andrew’s glare silenced him. King Andrew turned to Keeper Martin and Chancellor Yi then, saying, “You know what it is that you must do. Do not hesitate or stray from course.”

  “And my special delivery?”

  “In due course, my son, in due course.”

  Valam grinned, nodded agreement before turning away. Keeper Martin called after him as he exited the council chamber. Valam slowed down, waited for the elder to catch up.

  “You do realize,” Martin Braddabaggon said quietly, “Geoffrey of Solntse will never show. None of them will.”

  “Yi’s response was for the benefit of the listeners, was it not?”

  “It was. His brother has taught you well.”

  “He has.” Valam clasped Martin’s hand. “Geoffrey is the key. What will get his attention?”

  “Yes, win him. The others will follow. …Clever thinking,” he mused.

  “I am my father’s son, we had the same mentor. What of these rumors? Who is spreading the lies?”

  Martin started to respond, paused. “You and I and Chancellor Yi must find a way to deal with the whisperers. It is your father’s unspoken wish. He has bound us to you because he fears his time is past.”

  “Tell me what to do, Keeper Martin, and I will.

  Keeper Martin looked directly into Valam’s eyes. “Back to Geoffrey, you bring interesting insight. Free peoples understand strength and deeds. Find a way to earn his respect through action.”

  “With steel?”

  “Perhaps.”

  Chapter Two:

  Messages & Shadows

  Word of the elves returning spread throughout the kingdoms. Emissaries began to arrive regularly from the far lands. A messenger arrived this day from High Province dashing Adrina and Valam’s hopes that they would see their sister, Calyin. Heavy rains were eroding the mountain paths and the only remaining route from the north would take many weeks.

  When Adrina and Valam weren’t busy with other affairs, they struggled to learn Seth’s langua
ge and culture. It seemed important to learn as much about the elves as they could. Although the language of the elves was strange to them the words began to flow from their tongues with slow persistence.

  The unofficial council sessions grew with the same slow persistence until they were a long and tedious daily occurrence. It appeared that no one wanted to be left out of the council proceedings.

  The curious arrived in droves. King Andrew was on the verge of sealing the city gates and only allowing those with official business into the city. Several days previous he had ordered the palace gates closed to all save official visitors. To make matters worse a murderous riot between mercenaries from Veter and Territory free men caused the city and palace guards to be put on full alert.

  King Andrew wasn’t pleased with the dilemma at hand. The Kingdom seemed on the verge of eruption. The one thing he wanted most was out of his reach. In truth, he didn’t know if the other kingdoms were refusing to acknowledge his requests or if the messengers weren’t getting through.

  As a second week passed without word, King Andrew watched delegates grow irritated at postponements and the council grow restless. Private sessions between his most trusted advisers were going nowhere. No one would speculate as to the cause of the delays. The last of the emissaries from the Western Territories had arrived yesterday and the distance they traveled was the greatest.

  Keeper Martin could only lower his eyes in the presence of his failure, contributing no words of wisdom or excuses. Father Jacob’s brief discourse turned the group’s mood dismal when he offered the feelings he sensed from Great Father. To top it all it seemed as if Father Tenuus had fled the palace. He was nowhere to be found.

  “King Andrew, father,” Valam said, interrupting the sudden quiet of the council chamber, “I see no recourse other than sending a private party from Imtal to each of the Minors in turn. I believe the royal personage is what is necessary to solve the crisis at hand. No one, not even King Peter, will purposefully refuse a direct request sent from you that I personally deliver.”

  King Andrew didn’t respond with words. He lowered his head and raised his hand as a sign of agreement, submission. Sadness was written in his tired features.

  “Prince Valam speaks true, Your Majesty,” said Chancellor Yi, “I believe that is the only option we have left.”

  “Then so be it,” King Andrew said with regret.

  The meeting continued at a somber pace with not much else being resolved. They did however, decide to keep things progressing. They could not turn back from the course they had set out on. All must be ready before the coming of winter or they would not be able to send aid to East Reach until long after the winter snows thawed.

  Vilmos couldn’t remember when the world that he knew returned and the world revealed by the tree went away. He only knew that he walked and walked, confused and dazed. His mind filled with colors, flashes of light, and images of things that he could hardly imagine. Yet the one who stood in the shadow of his mind understood and this shadow walker helped watch and guide him along River Efrusse and out of the forests of Ril Akh Arr.

  The journey north lasted many days and took Vilmos through the swamp of Adrynne where the army of Stranth was defeated by the will of the Lady who guards Beyet Daren and her people. Nightfall found Vilmos curled beside a boulder hidden deep in a thicket. Huge tears rolled down his cheeks. He stared up at the insolent sky and cursed softly under his breath. Night in Under-Earth was unlike night anywhere else. The thorns on the bushes in the thicket would help protect him from the strange, dark creatures that roamed the night.

  Night, Vilmos mused. He almost laughed then as he wiped the tears from his cheeks. Night in Under-Earth seemed indistinguishable from day. He only knew it arrived because the sound of life slowly disappeared until it was absolutely quiet—a quiet that was interrupted much later when the night creatures arrived and joined in their hunts.

  To guard against the night Vilmos learned to sleep with his eyes open. If danger approached he knew the images would filter into his dreams and he would awake. What he didn’t realize was that it was the other who watched while he slept and it was a voice from the shadows of his own mind that called out warnings to him.

  This night was different from the others before it. Images filtered into his dreams and urged him to wake, to race through the darkened land. Vilmos followed the call, only the knowledge that something was close carried him on.

  Many hours later Vilmos offered quiet thanks to the heavens. The outskirts of Beyet Daren, dark and shadowy, illuminated only by silvery red light filtering through a darkened sky, came into view. At first it seemed the city was a single mass of black stone, but as he approached the city walls he grew increasingly amazed at what he saw.

  Every building in Beyet Daren was a veritable palace of stones. Stones that must have been carved from the mountains in the distance. The dark stone had a dull shine as if every surface was polished smooth. Indeed, as Vilmos passed quickly through a cavernous opening in the city walls that served as the entryway, he found the walls were polished smooth—smooth and cold to the touch.

  Inside the strange city he found empty streets, and as he walked along them he imagined the city was deserted. Images flashed through his mind’s eye as if in a dream. He delved deep into the heart of the city. He started to see signs of life. A light on. A voice in a back alleyway.

  He found it strange that the streets remained empty. The voice in his mind told him to pull the hood of his cloak closer about his head as a precaution.

  He walked on, unafraid of the growing whispers in darkened alleyways. He muttered a curse to the very air around him. His thoughts went to the shaman for a time. Xith had taken him away from everything: his home where he was cared for. His parents who loved him. His life in Tabborrath village.

  He started to cry. As he cried he cursed the shaman for everything that had happened to him and all that would happen to him if he didn’t find his way.

  He maintained his curses as he walked, yet the more he cursed, the more harsh and wrong his words sounded. He didn’t hate Xith. He was scared. Scared he would not find Xith. Scared of being alone. Scared about what the future would bring.

  The streets grew from vaguely familiar to completely unfamiliar. He knew he was lost and this was made worse by the fact that he didn’t even know where he was trying to go.

  As he turned a corner and entered a shadowed street he heard footsteps behind him. Before he could react he felt the heavy tip of a cold blade against his back. The finely crafted steel sliced through his clothing and touched his skin. Steel met his spine. He screamed, tried to run, but it was too late.

  By the time Seth and Adrina made their way downstairs the council had adjourned. Over the course of the next several days the council required Seth’s presence only sporadically, mostly to push the skeptics back into their place. More often, the council was in heated debate without him—debates that didn’t always pertain to the elves.

  During the long days of waiting and listening Seth and Adrina continued to tell each other about their homelands. As it happened, if Seth wasn’t with Adrina she could be sure that he was with Valam. A slow friendship was building between Seth and Valam. Adrina could see this and this pleased her as something more, something dangerous, was building between her and Seth.

  Most mornings she paced the walkways of the garden. She was often alone, left only with her thoughts, although eventually one of the two would find her. This morning it was Seth who found her first. She wasn’t disappointed to see him but her thoughts went out to another for a few brief moments.

  Beautiful day, imparted Seth wordlessly.

  “Yes it is, isn’t it,” responded Adrina, adding, “No word from the Minor Kingdoms yet?”

  No, Keeper Martin seems worried. He thinks something’s wrong. The Seventh day session may not take place.

  Adrina turned up her lip. Her expression became a frown. She knew Valam was planning something and that Seth was a
part of those discussions. She wasn’t allowed to know what was happening. It bothered her that they were keeping secrets, compounded by the fact that she had tried her best to learn about what they were planning but hadn’t been able to. Valam knew her too well. He knew her tricks and blocked her every effort.

  For a short time the two stood quietly, searching for anything to spark conversation. Adrina’s thoughts continued to drift. She wished that she was still a girl and not the woman she was becoming. She didn’t want to understand why it mattered so that she was coming of age. When Valam had come of age there had been a great celebration. Heralds throughout the lands proclaimed him as Lord of the South, Governor of South Province and King’s Heir.

  There would be none of this for her. She would not be granted titles or land. Those things would be granted to Rudden Klaiveson on their wedding day—a man she had promised herself to, yes, but not the man of her dreams. What did she know of dreams anyway? It seemed she had only recently started to live.

  Turning to Seth, she asked, “You’ve said before that The Reaches are divided in two: East and West. A king in the West, a queen in the East. Why is that? Why are the peoples divided?”

  Kapital was my home, yes, I know little of it in truth. Galan should have been the one to tell you about this, not me.

  Remembering Galan’s face as if in a dream, Adrina smiled. “She did. She told me some, and I am grateful but there is so much I don’t understand.”

  I was chosen at birth, Adrina. I have no past memories to cling to. I know only that which the Brotherhood teaches and what I have seen with my own eyes.

  “Surely you know why there is a king in the West and a queen in the East?” She said it like it was such a simple thing, knowing it wasn’t.

  Seth walked to the edge of the balcony. He gripped the stone railing, stared out over the gardens but did not reply.

  “It is because of Queen Oread, is it not?” Prince Valam said as he joined them on the balcony.