There were hundreds of eels. If they surrounded him, shocking him, his magic would be overwhelmed. He began to push the water with his magic. It was heavy and slow but he poured all his strength into the spell, spinning the water around him. He became the center of an underwater storm, spinning the water faster and faster. The eels were deadly, but they weren’t strong enough to break through the current. Zollin could see the merpeople, angry and threatening, but also effected by the swirling water. The young wizard was creating a whirlpool in the middle of the ocean, pulling down a funnel of fresh air as the water raced around and around him.
Soon the funnel reached past Zollin, with all his magic going into creating the watery maelstrom. He let his defenses go and tried to levitate himself up. The effort felt as if it was tearing him apart from the inside out, but he knew he had to get out of the water if he was going to survive. The sky was a light gray above him, and the air was cold, making him shiver uncontrollably. But the spell was working. He was slowly rising up toward the surface, no longer covered in water, but held aloft in the center of a long, spinning funnel in the middle of the ocean. The sea creatures weren’t strong enough to break through the current. When the merpeople hurled their weapons the tridents got caught up in the spinning water like debris in a tornado. A few tried to charge through the vortex, but ended up flipping and spinning out of control.
Zollin felt a sense of relief. If he could get above the surface of the water he could levitate himself back to shore. He wouldn’t be able to say that he defeated the sea monster, or the woman who controlled the creature, but at least he had defended the city.
He was almost to the surface when he heard a roaring beneath him and his spell began to falter. Glancing down he saw what he feared most, the sea monster. It had broken through the spinning water, disrupting the spell, and it was reaching for him. One tentacle wrapped around Zollin’s leg before he could escape. He had been forced to drop his magical shield in order to levitate himself out of the ocean. Everything ended abruptly as the sea monster pulled Zollin down. His spell was broken and the water crashed in around him, engulfing him. There was barely time to take a breath, and his magic seemed to recede from his mind, as if he couldn’t mentally will his power into action. Light and darkness flashed as his eyes burned from the salt water. More tentacles grasped him as the sea monster rose to the surface.
Zollin was gasping for breath as his body was lifted high into the air. Zollin could feel something strange coursing through his veins, a toxin of some kind. There was pain from the tentacles, but Zollin had to fight through the fog in his mind to recognize the difference between the crushing pain of the tentacles’ grip and the hundreds of tiny pricks from the minuscule stingers at the center of the suction cups on the tentacles that were injecting him with the strange toxin.
The sea monster flailed it tentacles in a frenzy all around its long, tubular body. Zollin saw Roleena, laughing triumphantly as she was lifted by one of the beast’s waving limbs while he was being slowly drawn down toward the huge pincer-like beak that was open wide. He was about to die and something in his brain was screaming for him to fight back, but he couldn’t grasp exactly what it was. He couldn’t understand what was happening, it all seemed like a dream. Even his fear seemed far away and foreign.
Then a huge green blur hurdled past Zollin. In the wizard’s mind he knew the shape and color, he just couldn’t name them or understand what had happened. Ferno attacked the sea monster in a frenzy of fire, ripping claws, and razor-sharp teeth. The dragon dove from directly above the sea monster, hurtling down to smash into the tubular body of the creature, flames billowing all around it. Steam rose from the constant gout of fire billowing from the dragon’s mouth as the flames boiled the sea water. Blood sprayed as well, the tough hide of the sea creature was no match for the dragon’s claws. The monster dropped Zollin as it tried desperately to fend off the dragon's ferocious attack.
The cold water revived the wizard a little and he managed to form his protective cocoon once more, but the effort was all he could manage and he drifted in and out of consciousness. The sea monster swatted at Ferno, but the dragon was undeterred and continued ripping and clawing at the sea monster even as it sank down under the water. The tentacles wrapped around the dragon and pulled it down as well, still fighting frantically to slay the beast that had hurt its friend.
Zollin was bobbling on the surface in a magical coracle. He came to for a moment and saw with frightening clarity the mighty green dragon being pulled under the water. He reached out with his magic and felt Ferno’s anger and panic. With a monumental effort his magic pulled the tentacles away and lifted the muscular dragon out of the water. Ferno roared and took to the air, then Zollin surrendered to the darkness.
All around him the merpeople reappeared, their hideous faces rising above the water just long enough to sling bands of seaweed over his magical bubble. They pulled him down, fleeing the bright sunlight and sinking into the green water that was tinged with the blood from the sea monster who had been wounded by Ferno’s fierce attack. Many of the sea creature’s tentacles hung slack in the water, and blood seeped from large rents in the long, tubular body of the giant squid monster. But it still had the strength to lift Roleena, its master, from the water, while the merpeople carried Zollin down into the murky depths.
But the blood in the water was attracting predators of a different kind. Sharks were charging to the scene, drawn impulsively by the massive amounts of blood in the water. Nothing was safe from their ravenous attacks, not even the merpeople. Some fought the powerful sharks, using their tridents to wound or slay the big fish, but the blood they drew only attracted more of the predators. Soon the scene of the battle was filled with hundreds of sharks, feeding in a frenzy on the sea monster’s ruined tentacles. The water was churned into a bloody froth as the underwater battle went on, and it didn’t take long for the merpeople to flee, diving deep and leaving Zollin alone in the midst of the chaos, surrounded by his magical cocoon, and lost in the mind-numbing effects of the sea monster’s toxin.
Chapter 29
It was dark when Brianna left them, and Mansel led the way back to the abandoned barn carrying the new dispatches. He hoped the letters from Zollin with the king’s official seal would give him some much-needed authority with Duke Ebbson. If he could get someone on his side, either the duke or the army, he could probably sway the others into joining them. He didn’t have much hope for the army, since the man in charge had already been convinced by Homar that Mansel was an imposter, but perhaps official orders would sway the commander. He was a military man after all, and chain of command would have greater meaning to him than to the nobles.
“Are you going to read them?” Danella asked, as they got back to the barn.
“No,” Mansel said. “I’ll let the nobles and officers open them and read them. Hopefully the dispatches will carry more weight if they haven’t been opened.”
It took Mansel a while to get a fire started in the darkness, but once the flames illuminated the old building, they were able to settle in for the night. Their horses were unsaddled and tied to an old iron ring that was attached to one of the warped, wooden walls, with enough lead that the animals could move around. Mansel fed their mounts the last of the oats the stable boy had given them, and carried snow to the fire in a pot to melt before pouring it into a small trough for the horses to drink from.
“I’m sure this wasn’t the glamorous life you envisioned,” Mansel said, very aware of the smell of horse manure in the old barn.
“I’m not looking for glamour, or even comfort,” Danella said. “I just want something, anything, that will keep my mind from Vyctor. I... I keep seeing him... burning.”
She couldn’t hold back the tears and she leaned into Mansel, who put his arm around her and held her while she cried. He stared at the fire, remembering the scene Danella was referring to all too well. Vyctor had thrown himself between the wizard Branock and Danella, saving her life. Ma
nsel had been about to do the exact same thing. He didn’t want to die, but he didn’t want to see Danella harmed even more. Mansel had taken a minor wound to his leg and before he could act Vyctor had made the sacrifice. Now it was Mansel holding Danella, instead of the big servant who had given up everything for her.
Life seemed cruelly unfair at times. Nycol had saved Mansel’s life, but he had been absent when she needed him the most. Quinn had counted on the young warrior to have his back, only to be let down not once but twice. Yet Mansel lived, forced to carry the weight of his failures and the guilt of his losses. And nothing could ease the pain. He could numb it with drink, or force it from his mind for a short time when he had to, but the crushing weight of it always returned, pressing him down with painful memories and a sense of depression that seemed overwhelming.
When Danella finally stopped crying, it was because she had fallen asleep. Mansel settled back against his saddle, a blanket under him, and one thrown over Danella. He stretched his feet toward the fire and looked up through the hole in the roof. He could just make out a few stars, and watched the smoke being carried out of sight by the wind. Sleep wouldn’t come for a long time, just the memories of all that he’d lost.
In the morning, Mansel woke shortly after sunup, his body aching from cold and the unforgiving ground that he’d made his bed on. Danella was still resting on him, her head on his chest, her body curled into a ball beside him. He woke her gently and they cleaned themselves up as best as they could in the old barn. There was very little water, only what they melted from the snow that was starting to shrink in the bright morning sunlight.
Mansel carried the dispatches back to the keep, hoping they would convince the duke to see reason. The fortress was a defensible position, but it didn’t protect the entire border, just one small, strategic section. If the forces from Baskla were massing for an attack, Fort Jellar just across the border would be the most likely base of their operations. Any army needed supplies: food, medicine, weapons, and shelter. The further an army moved from a place where those supplies could be obtained the more vulnerable they became. Fort Jellar would be vital to a human army, but Mansel doubted that the gargoyles would need such a point of resupply. They could cross the border wherever they wanted, making Ebbson Keep much less vital as a fortress for the King’s Army.
Zollin’s orders were to take the fight to the enemy. In just four days the army from Ortis would attack Baskla from the south, leaving the western border unprotected or at least weakened, allowing the army from Yelsia to wipe them out. It was a good strategy, but if Mansel couldn’t get the duke and the commander of the King’s Army to cooperate, it might all be for naught.
Guards led Mansel and Danella into a large room on the lower floor of the keep. It was a feasting hall of sorts, although it was much smaller than Mansel would have expected. There were supplies lined against the wall, food, weapons, casks of ale and wine. Outside, Mansel could hear sheep bleating and roosters crowing. He had been right about the duke bringing the supplies from the village into the keep, but where were the people, he wondered.
Duke Ebbson suddenly appeared from a hidden doorway at the far end of the hall. He was followed by several of his officers. At the same time the main entrance at the other end of the feasting hall was opened and the army commander, along with several nobles entered. They met in the middle where Mansel and Danella were waiting.
“You have dispatches somehow?” Duke Ebbson said contemptuously.
“I have dispatches from King Zollin, delivered by his wife Brianna on the dragons you all saw last night.”
There was a moment of silence and Mansel got the impression that the nobles were trying to come up with a way to deny the fact that they had seen the dragons. The huge beast that Zollin rode on had lit the night sky with fire that would have been visible in both the army camp and the keep. Mansel pulled the carefully folded letter from his cloak and set it on the table before Duke Ebbson. The king’s seal was unmistakable and several of the nobles leaned in to examine the golden wax.
“It looks authentic,” one of the nobles said.
The others stared at the man, who was older, and who looked sheepish under their baleful glares.
“It is authentic,” Mansel said. “Read it for yourselves.”
Duke Ebbson picked up the letter, tore the seal open, and read the contents. Then he passed the letter to the others, saying nothing. The letter was passed from man to man until it had come full circle.
“The question is,” Homar pointed out, “do we accept that this wizard is our king?”
“Just because he has the king’s seal does not make him our sovereign ruler,” said Brogan.
“Zollin is the only one who can protect Yelsia,” Mansel argued. “You must see that.”
“He’s the only person who can give you what you want,” Homar said.
“Power and position,” said another noble.
“Over all of us,” Brogan added.
“Don’t let your pride keep you from seeing reason,” Mansel said. “We must coordinate our attack with the army from Ortis. Surely you see the wisdom of that.”
“It is only wisdom if we wish for war with our oldest ally,” Duke Ebbson declared.
Mansel shook his head, not quite believing what he was hearing.
“If this Zollin is really a wizard,” said one of the nobles, “he could have conjured the king’s seal. I think it is a clever forgery.”
“There is probably no agreement with Ortis,” said Homar. “He is sending us into a fight with Baskla to get us out of the way so that he can assume power.”
“That isn’t true,” Mansel said.
“I think it is true,” said Brogan. “If it weren’t, why wouldn’t the wizard have come himself?”
There was a lot of agreement with Brogan’s assertion and Mansel was just about to explain that Zollin was protecting the coast, when he saw Duke Ebbson nod. Something in the back of Mansel’s mind sounded a warning. It was almost as if he could feel the danger like a cold wind at his back. He started to turn but the dagger drove into his side before he could face his enemy. Pain flared and Mansel lashed out at Brogan, who had stabbed him from behind. The noble was sent sprawling by the blow, but almost as quickly Mansel’s strength gave out. He heard Danella scream as he fell to the floor, the pain was growing more intense and the group of nobles standing around him seemed to slide away from him, as darkness flooded up and engulfed Mansel like a rising tide.
***
Strong hands grasped Danella’s arms and held her still as the group of men watched Mansel collapse onto the floor, blood spreading across the stones below him. Brogan roared in anger, his eye already swelling from Mansel’s backhanded strike that had sent the noble crashing to the ground. He staggered back to the fallen warrior and reached for his dagger but Duke Ebbson stopped him.
“That’s enough!” the duke ordered. “We agreed to hold him, not murder him.”
“He deserves to die!” shouted Brogan in a wavering voice.
“In good time, my friend,” Homar said from behind Danella. “All in good time. Be patient.”
“We will hold the counsel?” asked one of the other nobles. “The new king must come from the nobility.”
“Of course,” Homar said. “In two days the others will have arrived, and we can deliberate. Until then, get this filthy traitor out of here, he’s bleeding all over the floor.”
Guards carried Mansel away, the ornate dagger still in his back. Danella felt a cool sense of determination settle over her. She didn’t resist as Homar held her and the nobles made their plans. She knew he planned use her to assert his claim to the throne, but she would never let that happen. Still, she didn’t want to do anything that might cause the other nobles to think less of her. If that happened, she wouldn’t be useful, and if she wasn’t useful Homar could hurt her. As long as she was of some value she had an advantage. He wouldn’t want her damaged, at least not visibly. That didn’t mean she was
safe from his nefarious intentions, but she had a little time and that was what she needed.
The group split up once the arrangements were made and Homar took Danella from the fortress to a large home that his war band had surrounded and were using for their own purposes. The home had a large central room, a small kitchen, and four spacious sleeping chambers. Danella’s dagger was taken from her, but otherwise she was left to her own devices in one of the bedrooms. There were a few things out of place, as if a cursory inspection of the room had been made. She guessed the men were looking for valuables, but Danella could tell by the furnishings that the room had once been occupied by a woman, and that gave her hope.
Once the door was closed, she heard a heavy piece of furniture being dragged in front of the door to secure it. She checked the window but it was nailed shut. She spent the next hour searching for something that she could use as a weapon. The day was long, and food was brought to her room in the afternoon. Danella guessed that Homar was busy wooing the other nobles to his cause. The greedy man would stop at nothing to be king, and while she recognized that he was capable of winning over his peers, she thought the fact that he was overlooking Zollin was a mistake. She had heard from her dressing maids that Zollin was promising to relinquish power once Yelsia was safe, if that is what the people wanted. But Homar was acting as if the powerful wizard was of no consequence. Perhaps he had a plan to remove Zollin from power, but she doubted that he was man enough to conquer a wizard.
Just before sunset she found what she needed. There had been no proper weapons in the room, but she had found an awl for working leather. It was as long as her hand, just a thin, metal prong honed to a point on one end. She slid it into the feather mattress on the far side of the bed. More food was brought after dark, along with an oil-burning lamp. Danella barely ate, and spent her time pacing. She didn’t know for certain what Homar planed to do, but her intuition told her that he would come around once his plotting was finished.
Controlling Chaos (The Five Kingdoms Book 12) Page 20