The ugly old man pointed his staff upward and swung it toward the galleries surrounding the cobbled yard, drawing Arwhon’s attention to them.
“Look you. See what you have to contend with. Every bit of magic you think you have learned will not avail you now.”
Arwhon looked where the staff pointed. From behind pillars and out through doorways, Q’Herindam Mages filed into the galleries, filling openings on every level. He was totally surrounded on all sides but Arwhon did not lose heart, he had the Firemagic of Durhain.
The old man in front of him lifted his staff and pointed it at Arwhon. A jet of flame shot from the end of it. Not what Arwhon was expecting at all. He absorbed it and took energy from the flames before using a thin, superstrong version of the same magic, directing it toward the Mage in front of him whose surprised look remained on his wrinkled face as he was instantly sliced in half. Immediately, all sorts of magic rained down from the galleries. There was Earthmagic, Watermagic, Airmagic and more alarmingly, Firemagic; all enmeshed together. Arwhon cocooned himself with impervious protective spells while drawing Power from the ground at his feet. He tried to respond with cataclysmic Firemagic spells of his own, directed at the galleries above as he tried to annihilate the Q’Herindam Mages but Water met Fire and Air blew mightily in the wrong direction bending his spells. His razor-thin beams hit small, thick walls of compressed Earth which slowed them down or stopped them and Arwhon found he did not have time to concentrate his magic on just one foe, as he was under constant attack from all of the Mages at once. Every second Q’Herindam Mage was cleverly protected by his neighbour as he spewed streams of magic onto Arwhon.
Despite his best efforts, over time, earthwalls containing many cobblestones rose from the courtyard around Arwhon, resisting his efforts to burn through them. Many Q’Herindam Mages died as magic flew back and forth through the air, the Firemagic crackling and roaring with intense Power but the stronger Q’Herindam Mages just kept pouring their magic down onto Arwhon, protected by others who managed to block most of the Firemagic. Arwhon drew his sword and channelled his energy through it, melting and cutting through some of the galleries above. Yet more Mages died.
Huge waves washed into his protective wards, buffeting him and making his footing slippery. Arwhon found it difficult to stand steady against the gale force winds which also lashed at his wards. The soil and rock around where he stood softened and he started to sink as more dirt and rock piled up around him as he stood alone in the centre of the yard battling all of the assembled Q’Herindam Mages at once. Gradually the earthwalls became deeper despite his attempts to melt them. Water hissed and turned to steam as the ground heated up where his protective shell sat in an ever deepening pool of molten rock. The sound and fury of battle raged on and although Arwhon did not tire he was simply unable to overcome the huge number of Mages. Far more than he had expected to find here. The sheer number of the spells he was subjected to meant he was forced to combat them by increasing the thickness and density of the defensive energy shell surrounding him. Eventually, confined by his own protective magic, he sank beneath the red hot liquid rock. Arwhon sealed off the spells of protection and rested while he suspended his breathing and took nourishment from the Power beneath him.
So, the Q’Herindam had been waiting for him all along. What a fool he’d been, thinking he could just wander in here and beat the might of the assembled Q’Herindam Mages all by himself. Arwhon tried sinking further into the ground but felt Earthmagic resisting his downward progress. Similarly, when he tried to rise, Earth was hardened to resist him. It was too late now. The Q’Herindam had trapped him.
Arwhon ran through all the spells he could find in his head. Many thousands of them but could not discover one which would help him to escape the prison of his own making right at this moment. Apart from spells which would destroy the world, the only spell he found which could be of use was one which resulted in a state of suspended animation. He set wards to wake him if there was any discernable change to the energy sphere which protected him and used that spell.
Blackness.
Far, far above, Krissi winged in ever tightening circles as she kept watch over Arwhon. She saw him walk up to the fortress of the Q’Herindam and gain entry shortly before the magic started up. From her vantage point high above, she watched as the battle of magics commenced and she circled while huge amounts of magical energies were released. Too many for Arwhon, who slowly became encased in a radiant ball of energy of his own making which settled gradually into the centre of the huge courtyard. Eventually, there was only a glowing red pool of molten rock to see at its centre. Krissi felt the link to Arwhon subtly alter, consciousness vanishing as the spell for suspended animation took effect. It was now midway through the afternoon, as Arwhon had battled mightily from early morning and had only just succumbed to the collective magic of the Q’Herindam.
Krissi was torn. She could fly down there and battle with the Mages, as she was immune to magic but she wasn’t immune to weapons. Arwhon had cautioned her to stay away from the Q’Herindam and she did as he asked, circling slowly in the thermals above as she thought the problem through. Arwhon needed help and the only person who could help was in the Darkwood. Krissi had seen that destination for Shiri in Arwhon’s thoughts when they left Forbidden.
Shiri.
Arwhon’s mighty Gryffon took one last look down into the courtyard of the Q’Herindam citadel before she wheeled away flying eastward. Krissi flew on and on with little rest while there was enough light, compelled by the need to save her master as he had saved her.
It took her four days to fly all the way to Al’hera in the Darkwood. When she alighted in the clearing, Vehrin’del came to stand before her and laid her hand upon Krissi’s feathered head. A sensation of restoration came to Krissi through the Queen’s touch. There was something about the Darkwood itself which Krissi felt attuned with. In actuality, the entity known as Ch’ron, who knew Arwhon’s mind intimately, was able to communicate with her. Only in a rudimentary fashion, nothing like the information flow she shared with Arwhon but when Vehrin’del came out to see her, Ch’ron passed on the Queen’s words as best he could, making pictures which he shared with Krissi.
“Sihron’del is not here Krissi. She has gone to Belvedere with Cringle and their mounts. Duran is with them.”
Krissi had a mental picture of Shiri and Cringle riding away from the Darkwood, Duran following along behind. This changed to a picture of Belvedere, courtesy of Ch’ron, who had seen it in Arwhon’s mind when they talked. Krissi knew Belvedere. Cristal was there. The old woman who provided lots of nice food for her.
There was no time to spare.
Bowing to Vehrin’del, Krissi spun around and leapt into the air, her powerful wing beats sending up clouds of dead leaves the ailing Ch’ron had been unable to process.
Belvedere. She had to fly to Belvedere.
15. Another Ally.
Once again Shiri and Cringle rode south. The journey had now become commonplace and familiar, they had made it so many times. There were advantages; favourite campsites, the best places for water, villages where the inn had clean rooms and good food. As they rode, Crossroads now far behind them, Cringle glanced over at Shiri and saw her face set, obviously worrying about Arwhon. He worried too but to take his mind off the subject he thought back to the first time he had travelled this way and the manner of his becoming Arwhon’s Servant. He chuckled at the memory and Shiri glanced across at him.
“What’s so funny?” she asked.
“I was just remembering back to the time I first followed you and Arwhon out of Crossroads when I pestered Arwhon to hire me and he did. I must have appeared amusing.”
Shiri’s face relaxed a little and a brief smile appeared at the corners of her mouth.
“You were quite amusing in those days. Cringe was a pretty unusual character. I’m sure you’d agree with me that Vehrin’del has cured you.”
His dark Cheshwon face split in
amusement, lighting up from within as he remembered his earlier antics. This memory led to his thinking about the fan. He had totally forgotten about it with all the excitement of the last month or so since he’d acquired it. It was in the bottom of one of his saddlebags.
“Shiri. I’ve found out something about my history which I haven’t had a chance to talk to you about. I found the woman who raised me until I was about five. Before she put me out on the street. My Mother came from Cheshwon as part of a Trade Mission, they took a back way to the north of Tarkent to avoid the Dominion but the travel took far longer than they expected. I was born in Crossroads, where my Mother and the rest of the Trade Mission were staying while they arranged Trade but something happened and they had to leave in a hurry. My Mother thought me too young to travel all that distance back to Cheshwon, so she left me with a young woman who she paid to look after me for a year or two. Apparently she was intending to return for me.”
Cringle paused, remembering his conversation with Holly Barton and the fear in the woman when she recognised him. It wasn’t her fault she couldn’t care for him, the money for his care had run out and he wasn’t her child. In fact, his presence was making it difficult for her to find herself a good man. He was grateful she had kept an eye on him for as long as she had. He looked again at Shiri who seemed to be waiting for more.
“Holly gave me something my Mother had left for me. A fan with an unusual design but not like any fan I’ve ever seen before. I’ll show you this evening after we’ve eaten.”
Shiri nodded and turned her gaze to the front again, keeping watch. Even though the lands were at peace, there was still the odd robber and brigand on the roads. She turned back to surreptitiously observe Cringle. Perhaps she could give him something positive to think on.
“Arwhon and I, along with Arwhon’s first Servant, Chalc, travelled over that northern road to Tarkent.”
Immediately, Cringle turned in the saddle, all attention on what Shiri was saying.
“The road is little used now and at times difficult but still passable. From the north of Tarkent you can ride down into Cheshwon. We are quite well known in Tarkent so one day maybe….”
Shiri left it at that and Cringle understood. No promises but it was an opening. One he would pursue.
That evening Cringle shyly showed Shiri the fan. First warning her to be very careful of the sharp edges when handling it before he passed it over. Shiri gently turned the fan in her hands before carefully opening it out and gazing at the design.
“A Drakon and a Phoenix!” she exclaimed. “How beautiful.”
“A what?” Cringle asked.
“This sinuous creature here is called a Drakon. The Draakon Reavers named themselves after it. During the Battle for Belvedere I was captured and carried on drakon back to Goristoum in Debrishar.” Her face clouded at the memory. “I don’t wish to talk about that though. The Phoenix is a bird I have heard about in legend but have never seen. It is said it burns itself to ash then out of the ashes it forms and rises again, newly made. That would be something to see.”
Shiri studied the blades on the frame of the fan.
“This would be a deadly weapon in the right hands. Surprise would definitely be on the side of the wielder.”
She folded it up and carefully handed the fan back to Cringle who wrapped it up in its piece of linen and replaced it in the bottom of one of his saddlebags. Finished, he turned back to Shiri.
“One day I would like to journey to Cheshwon and see if I can find my Mother.”
Shiri looked up from the other side of the fire and held his gaze, her large amethyst eyes reflecting the firelight which glittered deep within them.
“I’m sure when Arwhon is finished with the Q’Herindam, he and I could come with you. I would like to see some of Cheshwon and I’m sure Arwhon would too. Now get some sleep, we’ll be in Belvedere in a couple of days if we ride all the hours of the day.”
Kuiran was pacing. Backward and forward, backward and forward in front of the dining room window. He had visited Jalwynd on quite a few occasions now, toured Belvedere, reacquainting himself with some of the seamier places he had known during the Battle for Belvedere as well as some of the seamier citizens who lived there and had generally stuck his nose into all sorts of places. Living standards had improved and even the poorest folk seemed to be happy with their lot. Most citizens recognised him by his size and he was warmly received wherever he went as one of Belvedere’s heroes but there were only so many times he could visit those places.
In reality, he was tired of waiting. He needed action. It was all right for Raleen, learning the ins and outs of Trading with Cristal and Captain Belmar but he would rather be out on the ocean or in the Darkwood or even fighting an assortment of enemies. Kuiran paused in his pacing as Raleen and Cristal entered through the front gate which was opened for them by the gatekeeper’s lad. Ever since the war, Cristal had been careful to maintain security in and around her mansion.
They entered the house together and he heard their voices gradually growing louder as they came toward the dining room. Finally, the door was pushed open and they entered. Cristal seemed to be growing younger by the day, her step was springy and there was a glint in her eye. Captain Belmar must be good for her. Kuiran’s gaze swung to Raleen and his heart leapt. A strand of hair, escaping from the rest, fell fetchingly across her face and her cheeks were flushed from her walk. Cristal observed him with a smile on her face as Raleen came into his embrace.
“Pacing again Kuiran? I swear by the Fate you’ll wear a hole in the rugs.”
Kuiran hugged Raleen close as he replied over her head.
“We should have heard something by now Cristal. I’ve a bad feeling about events at the moment.”
Cristal bit her lip and shook her head.
“There is nothing we can do at present Kuiran. I’ve been thinking about using pigeons for communication in the future but it would be cumbersome travelling with a pigeon basket. Perhaps we could transport pigeons between major centres and hire out their use.”
Kuiran snorted. “It doesn’t help us now Cristal. I’m the Arm and Arwhon could be in grave danger or captured. He should never have gone off without me. I should have been with him.”
Cristal waved her raised hands in mock surrender, taking a seat at the table as Mendle appeared with a small tray of snacks, enough to tide them over until dinner time, along with a cold flask of white wine which she placed in the middle of the table in front of Cristal. Mendle then fetched three plates, two glasses and Kuiran’s mug from the dresser. She retired as Raleen and Kuiran sat to partake of a snack with the grand old lady.
“You’ll just have to wait a little longer Kuiran. I too feel something is about to happen. Should we could consult a fortune teller?”
“A fortune teller! If the Wise Ones in the Darkwood can only see odd glimpses of the future, what makes you think a fortune teller would be able to see more?”
Raleen looked up from her food and studied her Grandmother and Kuiran closely.
“Every day you pair talk of waiting or not waiting. Kuiran, if we leave now, we have no idea in which direction to travel. We could end up miles out of our way which could put Arwhon in even more danger. Grandmother. We need to do something soon to locate Arwhon or Shiri or Cringle. I too have premonitions regarding them.”
Before she could continue, Kuiran, who was seated facing the windows, leapt to his feet with a loud whoop and raced for the door as Cristal and Raleen turned to look through the window. Just come through the gate was Shiri on Rancid, Cringle on Vixen and Duran with no rider aboard. Cristal’s heart plummeted at the sight of the empty saddle but neither Shiri nor Cringle had a long face so she hoped for the best.
By the time Shiri and Cringle had dismounted, Kuiran, Raleen and Cristal were outside in the courtyard as the grooms came to remove the saddlebags before leading the horses away. Mendle stood on the top step as she usually did, making sure the servants did their jobs pr
operly.
Kuiran hugged his sister Shiri to him, glad to see her safe after such a long interval. Cringle initially stood shyly to one side, trying not to get in the way of the family reunions but Cristal gave him a hearty hug and immediately made him feel like he belonged there. Raleen however was confused as to who it was Cristal was greeting in such a warm and friendly fashion as Cringle had grown and changed so markedly from the time she had sailed off with Kuiran to the Isle of Wyalon.
“Cringe?” she asked, wonder written over her face.
“Actually I prefer Cringle now,” he replied, an easy smile readily transforming his Cheshwon features. This was a Cringe she didn’t know anymore. It seemed there would be much to catch up on.
Kuiran had observed this interplay over the top of Shiri’s head and quietly wondered at the assurance the once timid youth now possessed. He stood easily and Kuiran could see the poise of a fighter in that stance and the once nervous appearance had completely vanished. Cringle now bore little resemblance to the old Cringe. Kuiran released Shiri and clasped wrists with Cringle, giving him a pat on the shoulder as he did. The lad had hard muscles now and firmly stood his ground. Cristal and Raleen greeted Shiri warmly and taking an arm each, drew her into the house with Kuiran and Cringle herded in behind by Mendle, before she peeled off to manage refreshments. The world could be coming to an end but folk still needed to be fed and watered. Preferably on time.
Shiri tugged Kuiran’s sleeve on the way in and stopped him for a moment.
“I feel Power in you Brother. Was your quest successful?”
“More than I could ever hope,” he replied. “I’ll tell you later after we learn of your adventures with Arwhon and Cringle.”
It was fairly late in the afternoon so Cristal sent her carriage down to Jalwynd, still tied up in Belvedere’s harbour, to request the immediate presence of her Captain for dinner. The jovial Belmar, who seriously liked his food and drink, especially over a good yarn, arrived before too much time had passed, dressed in his best frock coat. He only had two but kept one for visiting. He gently embraced Cristal when he was shown into the dining room, on tiptoes to receive a peck on the cheek. Shiri and Cringle were pleased to see this turn of events, as they were aware of the developing relationship but neither showed it outwardly. Captain Belmar came to greet them warmly, expressing his joy at seeing them safe and sound and enquiring after Arwhon. Shiri replied to his question.
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