The Lion's Crypt (The Emberlyn Chronicles Book 2)

by Michael K. Rose

  His thoughts drifted back to the battlefield outside the walls of Lanion. That had been a battle! That was an event that could have changed history. But he’d been near the front as the Ember Lion charged forth from the gate, scattering the Dourosh. He didn’t know how Queen Anneli had managed to summon the creature; he only hoped she would not be able to do so again. Its appearance at a second battle might very well break the will of the Dourosh for good. The lion was the only thing his men feared more than Lord Dourok himself.

  His lieutenant called to him, and he turned back to where the young Lanosh soldier was being questioned. He retraced his steps and looked down. “What is it?”

  “He’s just told me something rather interesting, sir,” the lieutenant said.

  “What?”

  The young soldier met Gralock’s gaze. “Just that there were outsiders—hornless—at the siege of Lanion. People were saying it was one of them who summoned the Ember Lion.”

  The Lanosh said all this as though it were common knowledge, and Gralock tried to hide his shock. “Oh, yes, of course. Which one was it again?”

  “The young girl. Penelope Blackmoor. Or so I’ve heard. I didn’t see it happen myself. I was guarding the south gate across the river.”

  “What does she look like again?”

  “I never even saw her. My company was sent here to the North Wood a little over a week after the battle. A beautiful girl, I’ve heard. Blonde hair.”

  “What else can you tell me?”

  The young soldier furrowed his brow. “Nothing, I’m afraid. I didn’t see much that happened during the battle. As I said, I was stationed—”

  Gralock thrust his sword into the young Lanosh’s gut, turned it once and withdrew it. “Prepare the men to march,” he said to the lieutenant. “I must speak with Lord Dourok as soon as possible, and I don’t dare attempt to communicate with him remotely.” He looked southeast, in the general direction of the city of Lanion. “There’s no telling who might be listening.”

  Chapter Four

  The Lay of the Land

  Faric opened his eyes and looked around, alert. Whenever Anneli used magic to communicate with him remotely, he lost all awareness of his immediate surroundings. As he saw that all was calm, he took a breath.

  Arric glanced over at his cousin. “What news from the queen?”

  Faric picked up his quiver and began examining his arrows as he spoke. “General Vahlik split his forces. They planned to circle Lake Dranith and meet up on the other side. The force that went around the east side of the lake never arrived.”

  “Is General Vahlik going in search of his missing men?”

  “Yes, but he’s being cautious, moving his army slowly and sending scouts ahead to be certain they’re not being drawn into a trap.”

  Arric slung his pack off his shoulders and set it on the ground in front of them. He threw back the flap and pulled out a large folded sheet of paper. Unfurling it, he revealed a map showing the entirety of the Great Forest.

  He placed his finger near the top of the map and pointed to the blue ink demarcating the shores of Lake Dranith. “We can reach the eastern edge of the lake in three days. Vahlik will probably find out what happened to his men before we get there, but we can at least scout the land between here and the lake. If they did run afoul of any Dourosh, it would be good to know where they went afterward.”

  Faric frowned down at the map. “The force that broke off from General Vahlik numbered around two hundred. If they were defeated by the Dourosh, it would have taken a force at least as large to do it.”

  “Larger, I’d wager,” Arric said. “Our rank and file would never go down in an even fight, not unless they were ambushed.”

  Faric grunted and put his finger at the edge of the lake. He traced it south and along the river that ran from it. “Let’s assume the worst, though. If there was a battle near the lake, where would the enemy go from there? I don’t think they would move east, toward our position. There would be no purpose in it.”

  “Do you think they would go toward Eranion?”

  Faric looked at the dot marking the ruins of the old capital, the city the Lanosh had been forced to flee after Lanioc’s death. It sat on the eastern shore of a larger lake that Lake Dranith and all the rivers in the Great Forest eventually drained into: Eranith. Throughout the forest, water bubbled up from beneath the ground, formed into streams and rivers and, in some cases, lakes, and it all eventually ended up in Lake Eranith. The level of the lake, however, changed little, and it was hypothesized that the waters seeped back into the ground and, through some magical process not quite understood, made their way back to the places where they had begun in order to repeat the cycle.

  “We know many Dourosh fled toward the ruins of Eranion after the battle,” Faric said. “It’s possible the enemy seeks to bring those rogue Dourosh back into the fold. Or….” He moved his finger toward the top edge of the map. “I feel something is happening north of Lake Dranith. The Dourosh seem thick in this area. Why? It’s long been known that their strongholds are in the West Wood. The North Wood is too wild to easily move armies through it, and there are certainly much better routes to take if they want to attack Lanion.”

  Arric scratched at the stubble along his jawline. “After the Ember Lion dispersed the enemy, they fled in all directions. But you are right. More seem to have fled north rather than west. To the west lie their fortresses and safety. Why not go there?”

  “I fear that the bulk of our armies that went west in search of rogue Dourosh are being wasted. Anneli made no mention of them finding any significant groups of Dourosh. The largest force they’ve skirmished with has numbered no more that forty or fifty men. They didn’t march near the ruins of Eranion, though, and scout patrols have reported signs of many Dourosh sheltered within them. But they’re deserters, not an organized army. As their food supplies dwindle, many of them will leave the ruins, and it will be easier to engage them in the woods, where they won’t have walls and barricades to protect them.”

  “So if the real danger is here in the North Wood,” Arric said, picking up his cousin’s line of thought, “then General Vahlik could be terribly outnumbered.”

  Faric nodded, but he was still frowning. “I will tell Anneli of our suspicions next time she contacts me. I cannot initiate a remote communication myself; it takes too much out of me, and I would be helpless for too long afterward.”

  “What’s our plan until then?”

  “We head to Lake Dranith, but to the southeastern edge. I want to know for certain whether or not any Dourosh have moved that way, toward the old city.”

  Arric looked at the sky. “Dusk is coming soon. Do we move by night or wait until morning?”

  Faric glanced over at the other four scouts with them. Their small party had been traveling through the North Wood at a barely sustainable pace, trying to gather as much information as they could about the enemy’s movements. He knew they would follow whatever orders he gave them, but the men deserved a rest. They were in a good, defensible spot, and if they moved it could be hours before they found another safe place to make camp—and that assumed they didn’t run into any more Dourosh.

  “We continue at dawn,” he said. “We’ll make camp here.”

  He saw the other men’s faces relax. As they began to lay out their bedrolls, he looked back down at the map. The Great Forest—sometimes called the Great Wood—was divided into four smaller woods. The Dourosh had long dominated the West Wood, and no recent maps of the area had been made. The Dourosh had their principal city there, Dournion, and there were several ancient settlements that they had most likely built upon after the rise of Dourok. The North, South and East Woods were mostly uninhabited—or so it was thought. With few exceptions, the Lanosh were crowded into the valley to the east of Lake Eranith, where the city of Lanion now stood. Both sides sent patrols out across the Great Forest, and there had been skirmishes of several hundred soldiers, but few major conflicts had occurred
anywhere else except on the main road that ran along the southern edge of Lake Eranith, connecting Lanion and the West Wood.

  Given the landscape and what was known about the Dourosh, it made sense for Queen Anneli to send the bulk of her forces west, around the southern shore of the lake. Faric had even objected to sending five hundred men into the North Wood under General Vahlik; now he saw why Anneli was queen. She knew to not rely entirely on what they expected to happen.

  “Did the queen say anything about the Blackmoors?” Arric asked, interrupting Faric’s study of the map.

  “Yes. They both tested well. They each have a strong affinity to magic.”

  “That’s good news.”

  Faric nodded. “And Penelope Blackmoor—Penny—she….” He hesitated. He trusted Anneli, but what she’d told him through their remote communication had seemed impossible to believe. “She fed the Vortex of Understanding.”

  Arric stared blankly at his cousin. “That’s… can that happen? She’s a hornless.”

  Faric frowned at the common but slightly dismissive term used to refer to those from outside of the Great Forest. Still, there was no other simple way to describe them. “Our horns seem to enhance our ability to manipulate magic, but they are not the source of it. A hornless with a strong enough affinity simply won’t need them.”

  “So what does it mean?”

  “Anneli is still trying to understand it herself. It could be the greatest thing to happen to our people in two thousand years. Or it could come to nothing.”

  “Does this mean,” Arric said, lowering his voice, “that Miss Blackmoor’s affinity is even greater than Anneli’s? It must. If she fed the vortex—”

  “Yes. That is what it means.”

  Faric knew what his cousin was thinking. In the past, if someone showed a significantly stronger affinity for magic than the current ruler, that person would be groomed to take over the throne. If he or she was ready before the sovereign’s death, then the current ruler was expected to abdicate for the good of the people but stay on as a close advisor to the new king or queen. It had only happened twice in two thousand years.

  “But could a hornless be our—” He glanced around to see that the other scouts were out of earshot. “Could she be our ruler? Is that possible?”

  “There is no law that says she can’t. And a person’s social position is irrelevant if there is a strong enough affinity. Do you not remember your history? We had Talec, the Peasant King.”

  “But he was still one of us.”

  “And now Penny is one of us as well. Do not forget that it was partly our prejudice against the hornless that enabled Dourok’s rise. Yes, they were more easily corrupted by his dark magic, but had we lived among them instead of apart, we might have offered them some protection from his influence. He might never have raised an army of them.”

  Arric lowered his eyes to the map. “You’re right, of course. Forgive my ignorance, Cousin.”

  Faric smiled. “You’re young yet. You will learn. And I think that once you meet Penny Blackmoor, as I have, you will like her.” He began folding the map. “And I do like her… but I worry that she is not ready—will not be ready. We are brought up knowing about magic. She doesn’t have that benefit. There are simple things that any child knows that she does not. Shortly after the battle, I tried to make her understand all this. I fear I may have upset her, but she needed to know the danger that is inherent in the manipulation of magic.”

  He handed the folded map to Arric. “But I feel she knows now. I think she will approach her new role with the appropriate reverence.”

  “Anneli will be a good mentor.”

  “She will.”

  “And if the time comes when Miss Blackmoor’s powers exceed our queen’s…?”

  “My sister has always done what is best for our people. I do not see any reason why that will change.”

  “Nor I.”

  Faric stood up from the half-buried rock that had served as his chair and stretched. The temperature was quickly dropping as dusk approached. He could draw on his powers to warm himself, but he did not like to use his magical energy for trivial things. If they were attacked, he wanted to be at his peak.

  His scouts all had affinities for magic—it was what kept them from falling to Dourok’s corruption as they patrolled areas close to his soldiers—but an affinity strong enough to provide some protection from Dourok’s dark influence was not necessarily powerful enough to allow one to manipulate magic to any great degree. His scout Laeock was adept at healing magic, but among them, Faric alone could cast substantial defensive and offensive spells. Because it tired him so quickly, he saved their use for when he really needed them.

  During the siege of Lanion, he’d drawn on the energy of the Vortex of Understanding itself, as close by as it was. Even though he was not attuned to the magic of understanding, all the vortices amplified every type of magic to a certain degree. But out here in the wilderness, there was no concentrated magic, only the dull, ever-present hum of it within the earth. Truly great magic users could pull that energy into them from miles around; his abilities were more limited, and once he had drawn in as much energy as he could and released it in the form of spells, he was spent, both physically and mentally.

  Someone like Anneli could cast spells all day long, and while it exhausted her, it did not render her helpless. But he had to rely on his skills and training most of the time. He could enhance those skills with magic for short spurts—perhaps long enough to turn a fight in his favor—but he had learned that for him, magic was a reserve measure. It could help keep him alive if he really needed it, but he put more faith in his wits and the strength of his arm.

  Chapter Five

  Lanioc’s Fate

  The gardens behind the palace were not large, but they impressed Penny nonetheless. Sir William had commented that the gardens of Granisle Castle, the seat of the Kingdom of Emberlyn, were three times as large. Penny had never seen those gardens, though, and she understood why this palace’s grounds weren’t as expansive. Nearly all of the Lanosh people had to live within the walls of Lanion. There wasn’t much room for extravagance.

  Even the palace which towered behind them housed nearly a hundred people. Penny hadn’t realized this until recently, as she began to explore her new home. Before the battle, she’d spent little time roaming the palace and had mostly been led from one place to another.

  Now she was given free run of the place and had discovered that in the upper floors lived not only the palace guards and the servants but also several dozen young men and women. They all had strong affinities for magic, and Queen Anneli kept close watch over them as they learned to use their powers.

  Anneli’s newest student, however, now commanded nearly all of her attention. She took Penny’s hand and led her toward a round grassy area in the center of the gardens.

  “There is no chamber below this spot,” the queen said. “Beneath this lawn is a pillar of stones that goes straight down, past the subterranean levels of the palace, and into the solid ground.” She turned around and pointed at one of the towers behind them. “If you were up there and wished to draw on the magic in the earth, it would have to travel up along the walls and then across the floor before reaching you. You can do this, but for now, as you begin to learn how to manipulate the magic, it is better to have direct contact with the earth.”

  “And the hewn stones below this lawn qualify?”

  “All things of the earth are the earth. We may move them and shape them, but that does not change their essence.” She took off her shoes and gestured for Penny to do the same. When she had, Anneli led her out to the center of the lawn. “I will draw the power from the earth. Hold my hands as I do so.”

  Penny took Anneli’s hands in hers and felt a surge of energy. It was the same kind of surge she’d felt when she’d touched the crystal, but there was no pain this time.

  “You are attuned to the magic now,” Anneli said, reading her thoughts. “Th
ere will be no more pain unless you draw on more than you can withstand.”

  “Like you did with the Lion’s Crown?”

  “Precisely. But that will not happen unless you make a conscious effort to do so or touch an object—like the crown—that either magnifies magical energy or has stored a great amount of magic.”

  “Why would I do it on purpose? And what does the crown do? Amplify magic or store it?”

  “Sometimes raw, unfiltered magic is required. I hope you are never in a situation where that is necessary. And regarding the crown, it both amplifies and stores magic. All of the greatest magical objects do both.”

  “How many are there?”

  Anneli took a deep breath as the magic surged more strongly through the two women. “Oh… perhaps two or three dozen, all told. Many have been lost, though.”

  Penny felt giddy as the magic coursed through her. She blushed slightly as she realized that the closest feeling she could think of was when she and William were together in bed. “How many are up in the tower?” she asked. “Besides the crown?”

  “Two others. There is a ring imbued with healing magic. Alas, I was too weak to use it to help the wounded after the battle, and there were no others who could safely wear it. And then there is an amulet on a silver necklace. It is imbued with the magic of protection. Again, I am the only one who can safely use it, but not while also wearing the crown.”

  “So these objects… they are all unsafe for everyone except those with the strongest affinities?”

  “Not all. There are some weaker artifacts. Some of the elders possess a few.”

  Penny had only spent brief periods of time with the elders, but she had recalled some of them wearing magical-looking jewelry. She felt another surge of power and looked up at Anneli. The queen was using the magic to tell her to focus on the present.