Remnants of the Order

by Hamish Spiers

  He stopped midway down some steps and paused a moment. The memory was coming back to him.

  “Dominicon,” he murmured.

  He continued his descent. It had happened. It had to have happened.

  However, as he came out onto the lowest level of the tower, he couldn’t see any stairs that descended below ground. He then tried some of the closed doors in the room but they were all locked. He was certain there were stairs leading down behind some of them and, for a moment, he contemplated fetching some of his ‘tools’ from his room to pick the locks. They would probably do the trick. But he didn’t want to resort to breaking and entering. Not yet.

  He let out a breath of frustration. “Damn.”

  For a little while, he paced around the room with his hands behind his head, trying to work out what he was going to do from there. If what he believed had happened the night before had actually happened, then going into Dominicon’s lair was probably a stupid thing to do but he still wanted to go there.

  Then it struck him that there could be other ways down. He remembered that the cave structures beneath Bellasaire were quite expansive and he knew that the base of the palace was much wider than the room in which he was standing. That meant there was quite a large area in which to look for ways to access the rooms beneath.

  He had already observed that the whole building was a very large and complicated structure. It was more likely than not that Shaala did not know the full extent of its rooms, passages and staircases.

  He ran back up the stairs and took a random passage. Then, after a quick exploration, he found a dingy room with a large square hole in its stone floor and stairs below. There were no windows here and he had to draw on the gift to see in the darkness. He descended several more levels until he reached the familiar cave–like rooms from the night before and after a few more minutes of searching, he found Dominicon’s lair. The previous night’s events had not been his imaginings.

  Fortunately, this time, while he could see Dominicon, the man couldn’t see him.

  An hour later in his own room, he sat at a small desk in which he had found a drawer full of paper, pens and a pot of ink. He had decided to write notes about his experiences in Bellasaire so he could better keep track of them.

  Karn had an excellent ability to remember a vast array of things in precise detail but he felt that under the current circumstances, it would be wise to keep some type of written record. After the previous night, someone – probably Shaala – had tried to make him forget what had happened and if they tried again, he wanted a contingency plan in case they succeeded.

  Dominicon, he wrote. Shaala never speaks of him. He revels in his own solitude and he is immensely strong. Also, he does not seem quite human. He is gigantic in build and he seems like a hunting beast, permanently poised to attack.

  He paused to dip his pen back in the ink well before continuing. Shaala. She has been very kind to me during my stay here so far but she is a mystery. She knows about Dominicon and seems to have some arrangement with him, although I don’t know what it could be. I am also uncertain now as to why she asked me here. So far, she seems to have no interest in discussing the war and any time I try to bring it up, she finds a new topic of conversation. Surely, she couldn’t have invited me here just for company.

  As Karn put his pen down, he glanced up and noticed all the old books on the shelf above the desk. The very old books. He took one down and opened it.

  The next day in Ensildahir, Lord Adeus greeted a messenger. “Welcome back, my friend. What’s the word from Tal?”

  The man smiled. “We have the garrison.”

  Around them, many people were still sorting out debris of the battle and to the south, a number of horse–drawn carts were carrying fresh food supplies from Ensari and the nearby countryside.

  “Tal intends to take his group on to Kalishar,” the messenger continued. “It’d be nice to know what’s happening on the other side of the mountains.”

  “Well, with the Angdar out of Arahir, we should now be able to open a line of communication between all our contingents,” Lord Adeus said. “Anyway... so Tal wants me to send more men and supplies over to the garrison then. Well, he shall have both shortly.”

  At the garrison, it was quiet as the soldiers there bided their time, waiting for the reinforcements and supplies from Ensildahir.

  Outside, Keld was sitting on a rock near the edge of the woods. The gate to the garrison, a few hundred yards behind him, was wide open but nobody was concerned. The Angdar would not come back any time soon and more likely than not, they would not return for the garrison at all. Rumor was they now had their sights on Kalishar.

  That made sense to Keld. If they could bring the war to Kalishar, and an army large enough to overwhelm its defences, then they could take Ensari from the land.

  He then heard someone approaching. It was Gandon.

  “How are you holding up?” his friend asked, sitting down beside him.

  “All things considered,” Keld said, “I’m holding up well. How about you?”

  “A little hungry,” Gandon told him, pulling out some dried bread from a satchel at his side. “Do you want some?”

  “It’s not that bad,” he added, taking a bite himself to prove it. “Really.”

  Keld smiled. “No thanks.”

  “By the way,” Gandon asked, “have you seen Lorial?”

  “I thought she was with you and the others in the guardhouse,” Keld told him.

  Gandon shook his head. “No.”

  Hearing this, Keld got up. “She’s probably gone into the woods. I’ll go and look for her.”

  “Why?” Gandon asked him. “If she’s in the woods, then she probably wants to be left alone.”

  “Right now, that’s the last thing she’d want.”

  “Do you want me to come with you?” Gandon offered.

  “No, stay here,” Keld said. “I’ll talk to her.”

  In the woods, Keld still saw signs of the battle – weapons lying about and the occasional dead Angdar beneath the trees. He and the others had gathered a lot of the dead and burned the remains earlier but clearly they hadn’t found them all.

  Every now and then, Keld would also see the bodies of their own soldiers. He wondered what the names of these men were and whether they had loved ones waiting for them somewhere, not knowing that they were never coming home. He knew that by rights, he and the others should also be gathering these men and cremating their bodies, paying them the respect they were due. And by rights, their families should know that they had died with honor, fighting to defend them.

  However, they’d never be able to find all the dead and tell their families where their sons were. Not now. The survivors of the battle were weary and they needed rest. The likely attack on Kalishar also loomed like a storm cloud for those who were going there, occupying all their thoughts and Keld himself was preoccupied with the coming journey north. But more importantly right now, his thoughts were on the living. Lorial needed him more than these men did.

  He pressed on farther, moving up into the foothills. He didn’t notice straightaway but he was walking towards the small clearing where Ishtvan had died, and where they had thrown his ashes to the wind. As he reached it, he saw Lorial sitting on the edge of an embankment facing the mountainside that lay beyond.

  Lorial heard him as he walked over and sat beside her. He didn’t say anything at first and neither did she but she was glad of his company.

  “I thought I’d find you here,” he said at last.

  “I didn’t want to stay in the garrison,” Lorial told him. “It felt like a cage.”

  Keld nodded. There was something claustrophobic about the place. “I know what you mean. Hopefully, the supplies from Ensildahir will be here soon and then we’ll be off to Valahir.”

  Lorial turned to him and smiled. “We?”

  Keld chuckled and shook his head. “Sorry. I meant Gandon and myself. You should probably stay with the main group
and go to Kalishar. There’s a certain safety in numbers.”

  Lorial sighed. “Keld, what are we doing? We’re not like the others. We don’t have families of our own to fight for. We don’t even have homes any more.”

  Keld frowned. “What about Ensildahir? You still have a home there.”

  “There’s nothing for me there,” Lorial said and her gaze drifted downward. “There never was.”

  Keld put a hand on her shoulder.

  “I never had friends or family in Ensildahir,” Lorial told him. “I’m from a small town not far from here. That was my home. That was where my family lived.”

  “They’re dead?”

  Lorial nodded. “Most of the townspeople died. And the town was burned to the ground before Sól got me out of there.”

  “I’m sorry,” Keld told her.

  “Actually, until I met you,” Lorial said, “Sól and Ishtvan were the only friends I had. And now that Ishtvan’s gone...” She trailed off.

  Keld held her hand. “I’m still here for you. And I’ll be here for you as long as I live.”

  Lorial smiled again. “Then, really, I should go with you to Valahir.”

  XV. Shaala

  Karn threw open the door to Shaala’s room and she looked up from her desk, startled.

  “Put that pen down,” he said. “I know what you’re doing.”

  She put it down.

  “It’s all right,” Karn said. “I think I now have a fair idea of what’s going on here. There’s someone in the caves under this palace and I don’t think he’s human. At least, not all the time. I’ve had a look through some of the old books in the library here and from what I’ve read, I’d say you’ve got a dragon down there. Not one of the more benevolent variety from I’estre but one of the Drach’nsvoiya beasts. And one of the nastier ones, I’d say.”

  Shaala looked as though she were about to say something but Karn shook his head and gave her a smile of reassurance. “I know you’re not in league with him. I can see that. You protected him from me. But it was as clear then as it is now that you don’t hold any power over him. That you’re afraid of him.”

  He paused to clear his thoughts.

  “And I know why you tried to obscure my memory of that night,” he continued. “It’s all right. You know, at first I thought you were doing it to protect him but I was feeling pretty groggy then, to tell you the truth. I guess having someone try to magically obscure your memory does that to you. But I didn’t really have to think too hard to realize that he doesn’t need much protection. You did it for me because you were afraid that I might go back to his lair again. That my curiosity might get the better of me.

  “And it might have worked too, actually. But the thing is that even without the gift, I have a very good memory. And it’d take a lot more than a bit of magic to change that. But anyway, the more I thought about it, the clearer everything became. You don’t want Dominicon to be here. You’re involved in something against your will. And I remembered seeing you forging weapons that night and suddenly, that all made sense as well.

  “But you can’t fight him yourself so you sent a message. You asked for help. And I suppose you hoped Sól might come. Or Tal. He’s an army in himself, isn’t he? But you didn’t get him. Or Sól. You got a young man who you’ve never heard of and you felt as though everything had gone wrong.” Karn shrugged. “And maybe things seem even worse now that I’m here. Perhaps you think I’m a liability as well. So here you are, writing another letter. It’s a long shot, you know, but you’re desperate. So you’re sending for help again.”

  “But you don’t have time,” he continued. “There’s a monster down there and you can’t contain it for long. You know that. And while I may not be what you were expecting, I’m here. You need help and, for better or worse, I’m what you’ve got. So why don’t you and I start over again? And this time, tell me everything.”

  Shaala sighed. Then she climbed to her feet, walked across the room and sat down on her bed. She gestured for Karn to sit beside her.

  “All right,” she told him. “I didn’t intend for you to come here, Karn. I had actually hoped that Tal or Sól would answer my request.” She hesitated. “A few months ago, I had a visitor. Marshal Artaeis.”

  Presumably, a descendent from the same Artaeis who first drove Strahd’s Angdar out of Cirreone over a century and a half ago, Marshal Artaeis was the most powerful man in the Aracean Empire, the leader of Cirreone and her allies.

  “He wanted dragons for his war against Ilara and her allies,” Shaala continued. “He knew about my ability. He knew I could communicate with the minds of other living things over great distances and he wanted me to use that ability to negotiate a deal for him with the most powerful dragon on Drach’nsvoiya. That’s who Dominicon is. He’s not simply a dragon. He’s the lord of Drach’nsvoiya.”

  Now, it was Karn’s turn to hesitate.

  “How did Marshal Artaeis know about your ability?” he asked.

  Shaala sighed. “He sensed it, Karn. Marshal Artaeis, the leader of that group of mage–hating states, is a mage.”

  Karn’s gaze drifted down then he looked Shaala in the eye. “And is he working with the petty mages who command the Angdar? The last of Strahd’s lieutenants?”

  “Yes. The people of Cirreone and her allies don’t know it, of course. Their animosity to the mages, and their hatred for the Angdar, are genuine. But Marshal Artaeis is liaising with the Angdar.”

  “Two halves of an army that don’t get along?” Karn asked. “What does that give him?”

  Shaala shook her head. “The people of the eastern lands won’t wage war against Ilara and Maharei on a whim. They’ve disliked mages for a long time but they’ve never hated them that much. However, when they see the Angdar raiding their borders and some of the lesser mages leading them, they want to get rid of all mages. And since you’re mages too and Ilara and Maharei offer you and your companions safe harbor, the people of the eastern lands think they have to annex these countries to deny you those harbors. Now if Artaeis worked with Strahd’s lieutenants alone, he would just have the Angdar. That’s bad enough, I know, but by using them to antagonize Cirreone and her allies, he puts their soldiers on his side too. That more than doubles his strength, Karn. It triples it.”

  “Now, I couldn’t delay bringing Dominicon here,” she continued. “Marshal Artaeis made it clear that my life depended on me getting him here quickly. However I did have a plan to prevent him from joining the marshal’s forces. Probably the Angdar he controls with his left hand, I’d imagine, rather than the Aracean allies he controls with his right. But anyway, I thought that if one of the mages in your band helped me kill Dominicon here, I could then escape with them and find a safe harbor either in Ensari or Kalishar.”

  Karn reached out and took Shaala’s hand.

  “But now what?” she muttered. “Can we really fight him? Just the two of us?”

  “If he can be brought down, then I’d stand just as much chance as Sól or Tal,” Karn told her. “And it won’t be the two of us fighting him. It will be me. Just me. And I want to try tonight because, now that I know everything that’s going on here, I don’t think you have much time.”

  Shaala’s face paled. “What do you mean?”

  “I was attacked on my way to this palace,” Karn replied, “by a wyvern at sea. Someone must have known you sent that message to Ensari and then tried to stop me from reaching you. And by now, they probably know they failed.”

  “Then we’re lucky your fleets destroyed the Aracean ships in the strait,” Shaala said. “Because that’s probably the reason why we still have any time at all. At a guess, I’d say Marshal Artaeis must be too preoccupied with regrouping his armies to deal with me.”

  “Probably,” Karn agreed. “But he’ll come eventually so the sooner we do something, the better. Those weapons you were making will do for a start. They’re magically enhanced?”

  “Yes, they should be able to pierce Dominic
on’s hide in either his human or his dragon form.”

  “Good. I’d like you to show them to me.”

  Dominicon was above ground when Karn found him.

  “Hello, Dominicon,” Karn greeted him.

  Dominicon looked surprised. “What do you want?” he asked, eyeing Karn as a lion would an antelope.

  “I just wanted to talk.”

  Dominicon smiled. “I can kill you, boy. Shaala cannot stop me and there’s nothing she can do when she finds out you’re dead.”

  Karn smiled back. “True enough.”

  For a moment, Dominicon looked uneasy but it passed. Then his eyes lit up and his smile broadened. “Why don’t you run and make this more fun?”

  Karn pulled out a sword that Shaala had enhanced. “I’ve got a better idea.”

  Dominicon’s eyes widened. Then he whirled about, sprinting from the room and up a flight of stairs. Karn ran after him as fast as he could.

  Outside, an evening storm was brewing. Strong winds buffeted the tower’s walls and in the distance, there was a rumbling of thunder.

  Inside, Karn chased Dominicon up into the higher levels of the palace. Then Dominicon came upon a long hall with a large window at the end of it. When he saw this, he ran straight for it. Karn was only a second behind him but he was not fast enough.

  As he watched, Dominicon leapt straight through the window, sending shards of glass flying in all directions. Then he fell through the air at great speed, his arms and legs stretched out in a graceful arch. And as he fell, he grew in size. His clothes tore and wings stretched from his arms, slowing his descent. Then he climbed into the air back towards the top of the palace.

  The transformation took place so quickly that it was impossible for Karn to observe the entirety of the transition but Dominicon had now taken his dragon form, one of an emerald beast and far larger than Karn had imagined it would be.

  The great behemoth blasted a hot stream of fire straight at him and he leapt back, rolling onto his feet as he hit the ground. Behind him, a large area of the hall was destroyed, with the damage extending well into adjoining rooms and levels.