Ruin Mist Chronicles Bundle

by Robert Stanek

  Vilmos tried to scamper back down the hall, but he couldn't quite squeeze past the portly figure fast enough. Caught by the scruff of his shirt, he struggled to break free.

  "What's the matter, never seen a troant before? I'm not going to hurt you—I don't eat people. Human meat just doesn't taste as good as it used to." The creature smiled then, its teeth glistening yellow-brown in the torchlight.

  Understanding the other was joking, Vilmos fixed his face in a half smile but didn't manage a response.

  "So my father was a troll and my mother a giant, big deal. It's not that unusual. I'm the one who found and brought you here."

  Vilmos replied weakly, "Thank you."

  "My name is Edward, but you can call me Eddie—or Ed, which is even shorter—if you like it. How come you didn't return my invitation?"

  "What invitation?" Vilmos asked.

  "I gave you white," replied Edward. Vilmos still didn't know what Edward was talking about. "Haven't you ever played King's Mate before?"

  Vilmos thought about it for a moment and replied, "No, is it fun?"

  Edward put a hefty arm around Vilmos' shoulder. "Get the king piece I gave you and I'll teach you… It is more than fun."

  Vilmos hurriedly retrieved the tiny king piece from the table where he had placed it and then the two made their way to the stairs. The large arm returned to Vilmos' shoulder as they did so, and for an instant, Vilmos thought he would collapse under the tremendous weight of the great arm.

  The stairs creaked and moaned under Edward's weight as the two slowly descended to the first floor. The large open room below was pleasantly lit with numerous candles hung from the ceiling in raised candelabra. On the center table in a room filled with tables and chairs, lay a large wooden board with small, hand hewn squares etched into its surface and a number of tiny wooden playing pieces strewn haplessly about.

  Edward ushered Vilmos into one of the chairs and turned the board to face them properly. "So you've never played before," said Edward checking Vilmos' eyes for honesty. Vilmos shook his head. "Well, I'm going to teach you, so listen closely."

  Vilmos leaned forward.

  "Look carefully at the board. You will see it is seven columns wide and nine rows deep. There are… Hold on just a moment, I forgot something." Edward rose from the table, a slow and careful feat. He poured a draught from a large wooden keg, setting the frothy mug onto the counter momentarily as he tapped a second keg. The second glass full, he handed it to Vilmos. A healthy swig left thick foam around the innkeeper's lips, which when clean licked roused a smile. "Go ahead try it. I just can't play without drink—and neither should you!"

  Vilmos sniffed at the liquid in the mug, it had an unpleasantly strong odor. He raised the cup to his lips and stuck his tongue in for a taste. To his surprise, the drink held a sweet, tantalizing taste, somewhat like honey. "It is good!" he exclaimed.

  "Why, of course it is," expressed Edward, jovially. "Now listen closely to what I have to say… All right, now where was I… Oh, yes. The board has seven raised areas, five of which are in its center, these form an 'X'. The remaining two are in the center of the last row on each end, the king goes there."

  Edward began placing the pieces onto the board, explaining each as he did so. He told Vilmos to put his king onto the board. The white king had an oversized, jeweled crown on its head and a sheathed sword in its right hand. The black king wore a dark cape with a singlet for a crown and held a scepter in its left hand. Edward placed it onto the board.

  The next piece was that of a knight with a sword raised high into the air; this piece was the swordmaster, one occupied a square on either side of the king. Placed beside it on the left was a priest, and on the right a priestess and lastly onto the ends went the keepers.

  Into the next row, Edward put five figures, which represented the fools. They were placed onto the board in the first, second, forth, sixth and seventh columns, leaving an empty space in front of the swordmasters, because as Edward had told Vilmos, 'The swordmasters needed extra space to maneuver around the board.'

  Intrigued by the game he had seen old men labor over for long hours though they had never offered to show him how to play, Vilmos listened to every word intently. He paused only to drink as Edward did.

  Finishing off his cup, Edward went to pour himself another, deciding after he had already filled it just to pull the entire keg over next to him so that it would be within arm's reach. He also filled Vilmos' half empty mug, before he sat back down.

  "Drink up, Vilmos. It is good for you," said Edward laughing. "Are you ready to begin again?"

  Vilmos raised the cup to his lips and smiled indicating a yes.

  Edward continued, "All the pieces move differently. It is easiest to remember the moves this way… The king can only move one space at a time, but in any direction. The swordmasters may move any number of spaces, but must always be adjacent to the king. They revolve around him and rotate around his moves, moving always in direct lines. One must always be in an adjacent square touching the king, and the other may be adjacent to the king or the other swordmaster. So you see, it is fairly tricky to move those three pieces around the board, as you can only move one piece per turn. So you have to really plan your moves. Are you following me or did I lose you?"

  Vilmos shrugged in response. He understood the concept somewhat. He would wait to play the game and hope he moved correctly.

  As Edward wanted to clarify this point anyway, he went through a few practice moves with the black king and his swordmasters. He moved the leftmost swordmaster forward one square, indicating that it was still adjacent to the black king, and then he moved the rightmost swordmaster diagonally two squares, it now rested before the other swordmaster. Edward indicated why this was a valid move. He then moved the king piece forward one square. He followed through a number of these simple maneuvers until it seemed Vilmos had caught on.

  "The priest and priestess move diagonally," Edward said, beginning again, "in one direction only, any number of spaces on a given turn. Similarly, the keepers may move vertically or horizontally any number of spaces. The fools can only move one space at a time, either forward or backward. That's how they move… Now you must just remember this one last, very important rule. Only the king or the swordmasters may pass through the raised squares or stop on them…"

  Vilmos watched as Edward pointed out the locations of the seven raised squares again.

  "With one exception—if the king occupies the center raised square, any of the pieces of his color may cross the raised squares, but only for as long as he remains on that space." Edward stopped to take a heavy swig again.

  "You capture the pieces according to the direction that the capturing piece moves. Except for the fool, the fool only takes pieces that are diagonal to it. That is why he is called the fool, for he is the only piece that captures other pieces the opposite way that he moves. The king cannot be captured until both his swordmasters are taken from him… So you must take both the swordmasters first in order to capture the king and win… Do you understand?"

  Vilmos thought about what Edward had just stated, confused by it. In his mind, he moved the pieces around the board. He understood that part of the game, but not how to capture another person's piece. "But how can you capture the king and win if you have to take the swordmasters first?"

  "Through sacrifice, Vilmos… Nothing good is gained without sacrifice," laughed Edward with a touch of irony.

  All the pieces in place now, the game progressed slowly, with Edward observing the defensive while Vilmos gradually learned the intricacies of the game. Vilmos was enjoying spending the evening in Edward's company. Edward's honest, open, goodhearted spirit was exactly what he needed to fill the empty spaces of his mind and heart.

  After a short period of moving the pieces back and forth, neither gaining nor losing ground, Edward switched to an offensive posture and with great precision, not losing a piece, he stripped Vilmos of his five fools. Amazed at how sudden his p
ieces had been captured and taken away, for he thought he had been careful, Vilmos became inspired by the strategy involved in maneuvering the pieces. Before he had been reluctant to attack, yet after Edward's wave, Vilmos was left with no other choice.

  Seeking to recoup some of the losses, he ended up sacrificing away his pieces. In an amazingly short time, he was down to only three pieces, a single swordmaster, a priestess and the white king, his king. A few moves later and the game was over. Edward's boisterous laughter momentarily filled the small inn, echoing long along its halls and through its many empty chambers.

  The two played late into the evening, with Vilmos losing many games. Eventually his skills and strategies improved as the evening progressed and by the evening's end, he was providing ample challenge for the astute master of the game of King's Mate.

  Chapter Forty Three

  Ne, ehto ne dolzh byt, ehto ne dolzh byt… Ochen dol zhdal, i sechas…

  "Galan, are you listening?" asked Adrina.

  Yi tozh, tak ochen dol, nu… We must start to think like Men and practice vocalized speech, in their tongue, Brother Galan.

  Pochem, yi ne…

  They find it very strange when we speak with our minds. Their customs are very different from our own.

  Adrina tilted her head back and dipped her long hair into the water of the bathing pool. "Galan, what's wrong? Did I do something?"

  I know, yet perhaps it is best if they think us different. Was Galan's last remark to Seth. She broke the link and focused on Adrina. While churning up the waters of the bathing pool, she imparted, It is nothing. I'm a little confused that's all… Tell me more about this council of yours. What is it like?

  "The Great Council, the High Council, is made up of the ten wisest of the Kingdom. They are chosen for their skill at making decisions and positions—"

  Sounds very much like our own council in the Eastern Reaches, retorted Galan, reading Adrina's thoughts before she could put them fully into words and not meaning to cut her off. The hot water seeped into her body, soothing and invigorating.

  All conversation ended as the two enjoyed the bath. Galan didn't restore the link with Seth, though he thrust thoughts into her mind two more times. Remembrance of the homeland that seemed so far away came to her, allowing her to think of little else.

  When they finished bathing, they found a pair of silken dresses where their discarded gowns had been, put there by the invisible hands of the attendants. The same invisible hands that busily dried the princess, then fitted one of the dresses.

  I cannot wear such as this, imparted Galan.

  "I have given it to you, it is yours," said Adrina.

  "I am sorry," began Galan, not realizing she spoke aloud. Her speech flowed with a broken pace, but other than that, it was Kingdom tongue with Kingdom accent—borrowed from Adrina's mind. "In my homeland… one of my office can't wear such as this. My robe of office is a subdued shade of red. I am only the second, Brother Seth is the first."

  You are not in your homeland, Brother Galan.

  "You must take it, the tailors made it especially for you, for the council meeting. I won't let you sit before our upper council in a house robe."

  Seth, we are in a private conversation… Galan clipped the link forcefully, even though she had been the one to accidentally re-establish it. She hadn't known speaking aloud would affect her thoughts thus, and she had spoken aloud unintentionally.

  You're still angry about our earlier conversation. Forget it, you owe me nothing. Nothing, remember that… We shall sit before the council, and you are to do as told, threw in Seth just before the link broke.

  Adrina slipped the dress around Galan's shoulders before any further objections could be offered. The fit was perfect. Cool silk against her skin sent tingles through her body. She had never before worn silk.

  "It is truly beautiful," she whispered, "thank you."

  Seth, Galan and Adrina waited in the antechamber to the council hall. Adrina assured them the wait would only be a few minutes. Counting the time as it ticked by, the two waited patiently. Seth's mind flowed fluidly in and out of conscious thought while Adrina and Galan conversed. He remembered sitting in the antechamber of another hall, far far away.

  Seth, called out Galan, What do you think? She hadn't considered that she would be interrupting his thoughts.

  I'm going to probe their thoughts, Galan. I need to know their intentions before we go in. And I need to know if their—Seth touched Adrina's mind slightly,—King Andrew is akin to our Queen Mother.

  You shouldn't, cautioned Galan, Adrina's thoughts are open and she won't mind the intrusion.

  Don't worry, they can't detect it, and besides, her thoughts are prejudiced, King Andrew is her father.

  Despite Galan's cautioning eye, Seth reached out to those within the hall, wandering in through the eyes of a broad-shouldered, broad-backed man, seated upon a high mounted chair. He gazed out through those eyes, regarding those that were gathered before him, seeing only the faces, nothing more. He heard their voices and followed their conversation, silently joining them.

  "Out with it captain, have the rumors been confirmed or not?"

  "No, Keeper Martin, they have not." The captain grimaced.

  "Get on with it man," demanded the black robed priest.

  "Father Tenuus, please contain yourself," said King Andrew.

  "You must excuse me, sire. I am not well. I think I have the chancellor's cold," replied the priest.

  A raucous laughter erupted from the chamber, audible even behind the closed doors.

  "Then we should proceed as planned, sire," said another priest, the white ribbons of his office decorating the dark sleeves of his robe.

  "Yes, Father Jacob," spoke King Andrew, "I should think so." He turned to regard the captain then, "Send word to the garrison. Keep the patrols light but keep them steady. We do not want any more incursions. We have the bandit kings on the run and we want to keep it that way."

  The captain's frown broadened as he waited for the king to finish.

  "This should be a matter you handle yourself." King Andrew paused regarding Captain Brodst. "Is there something wrong? Or should we find another who is more willing."

  "Sire, there is none more willing to serve than I… You have my word and my oath of honor," quickly returned the captain as his eyes darted about the room. There was a look in his eye of pain as if he had been stung. "Sire, I mean no disrespect, but—"

  "But what?" demanded Andrew.

  "It is nothing, sire. By your leave, sire," said the captain excusing himself.

  Silence followed for a moment, a set of doors opened, and then there was a pause. Seth saw a long, unhappy face stare back at the king from the doorway. The eyes were not quite angry, rather, openly displeased and the frown quickly shifted to a scowl.

  The captain looked away then. His footsteps echoed across the chamber once more and the doors were closed behind him.

  "Father Tenuus?" said King Andrew. "You know what to do. Correct?"

  "Yes, sire," said the priest.

  "Good, very good," mused Andrew. "And father, ensure that the poor captain doesn't discover our little ploy. The celebrations will commence on the Seventh day and carry forward to the next. Imtal has not forgotten the deed."

  "Yes, sire," replied Father Tenuus smiling slyly. He regarded the king then and in his eyes, Seth saw admiration/adulation.

  "Ensure the captain has an enjoyable time, but have Swordmaster Timmer keep a close eye on him. We want him fit. Remember, no swordplay other than the trials. And Chancellor Yi?" The chancellor turned to regard the king. "What of your sources in the Free City? What do they tell you?"

  Chancellor Yi looked about the chamber, seemingly hesitant to speak.

  "Out with it, what is the lay of it? Is it the same as we thought or not?" demanded King Andrew.

  "Yes, sire, I believe it is," admitted Yi, a hint of submission in his voice.

  "Good, send something special to our
mutual benefactor in Solntse."

  "I will at once, sire," replied the venerable chancellor. "Is this the end of the previous business? Are we then on to those waiting?"

  King Andrew nodded, sitting straighter in his chair as he looked about the room.

  Suddenly the antechamber doors sprang open. Seth's mind jumped for an instant back to the High Council of the Eastern Reaches. I know what I must do Queen Mother, he whispered, rising to his feat.

  After his announcement into the hall, Seth said in the polite form of his people, "I am Brother Seth of the humble order of the Red."

  "I am Brother Galan, also of the order of the Red," added Galan.

  Both spoke aloud.

  "Welcome unto the High Council of the Great Kingdom, please be seated," spoke Chancellor Yi. Father Jacob graciously indicated the two seats they were to occupy at one end of a long, triangular-shaped table.

  Seth drank in the influence the hall held over the mind in one glance as he sat down. The high-vaulted ceiling, graciously accented by each cutting rib with its intricate tierceron design. The table massed in the direct center of the hall, following each diagonal cross-section of the vaulting above with three carefully placed groups of five chairs per side. And the enormous oaken pews leading out to the wings in three concentric rows. All lending a circular effect to the triangular countenance of the great hall. He thought the chamber a wise choice.

  A group of gray-haired, stately looking men sat in two groups of five on either side of the table across from them. Directly behind them at the pivotal point on a plain, wooden throne sat a stone-faced man, who could only be King Andrew.

  The chamber emanated a subtle power all its own. Perhaps it was the gathered knowledge of the men who sat within it or perhaps it was due to the design, Seth couldn't tell which, although both seemed very real possibilities to him and here, he felt at home. The hall reminded him of a different place that was so far away he could scarcely recall its beauty; that place too, held a far-reaching power.

  Keeper Martin spoke first. As head of the Keepers of the Lore, he spoke the words best that King Andrew wished expressed. "Brother Seth, we of the council of ten have many questions about you and your people, as we are sure you have of ours. The first question we must direct to you pertains to the purpose of your journey. What has brought you on such an obviously costly endeavor to our lands? And why now?"