“Greetings, Jenneva and friends,” echoed the cave. The rear wall of the cave shimmered and turned translucent. A figure appeared in the new section of the cave, which was bathed in blues and greens dancing together. The figure appeared to sit cross-legged, but its image was hazy and indistinct. “What do you wish of the Oracle?”
“We seek to fulfill the Ancient Prophecy by destroying the Dark One,” replied Jenneva. “At this time I am empowered to imprison him, but I do not know his location.”
“The Dark One dwells on Mount Kalas,” revealed the Oracle. “The way will be difficult and treacherous, but he has built a castle atop the tallest mountain.”
“What of the children?” asked Jenneva. “Can you tell us where to find them or what has become of them?”
“The children are alive and well, but not where they belong,” answered the Oracle. “I cannot tell you where they are, but the Dark One also seeks them and he does not know, either. You are few and he is many. Even if he is imprisoned, still he will search. Your task is long and arduous. May fortune smile upon you, for I can offer no more help.”
The blue and green lights winked out and the cave wall solidified. Gone was the image of the Oracle of Estara and the echo of its voice.
“Thank you, Oracle,” sighed Jenneva as they left the cave.
Chapter 20
Spell of Binding
As Yorra circled over the Targan Royal Palace, Prince Oscar gazed down at the destroyed city of Tagaret. Most of the city was ablaze with fires devouring whole city blocks and bodies were strewn throughout the four quarters of the once proud capital of Targa. Spirals of black smoke rose from every section of the city and merged with the inky black mist that covered the world. The river and harbor were littered with half-sunken remains of the merchant fleets and the small Targan Navy. Off towards the southern horizon, the remnant of the Targan Army was chasing the fleeing Sordoans.
Oscar tapped Yorra and the magnificent white unicorn circled, lowered and landed in the Red Sword courtyard of the Royal Palace. The Red Sword barracks and stables were completely burned and nothing moved in the normally busy courtyard. The Prince left Yorra and ran into the Palace. Many of the small rooms off the corridor that had been used for offices were now being used as infirmaries with wounded men laid across the floors of the small rooms. Oscar continued past with hardly a glance at the wounded soldiers as it became obvious from the piles of dead Sordoans that the battle had also been fought within the Palace walls.
The Royal Prince raced towards his father’s study, a growing feeling of dread coursing through his mind as the signs of fighting continued upstairs. Prince Oscar ran through the door to King Byron’s study and skidded to a halt. The body of General Clark lay tossed at the base of the large desk like a discarded toy, broken and limp. The study’s floor was sprinkled with dead Sordoans and Red Swords. Looking to his left, Oscar saw Lord Habas pinned to the large wall map with a Sordoan spear.
Prince Oscar ran to the far side of the room and threw open the door leading to King Byron’s reading room. As Prince Oscar entered the room, General Gregor spun around, his sword unsheathed and pointed towards the door.
“Prince Oscar!” shouted the General. “You’re alive!”
Oscar peered at the General’s bloodied uniform and noticed the cloth wrapped around the soldier’s waist and the gaping rent in his uniform. Behind General Gregor stood King Byron brandishing his rapier and guarding the Queen who was sitting in a high-back leather chair. The Prince sheathed his sword and, laying his hand on General Gregor’s shoulder, nodded to the King’s protector. Walking past the soldier the Prince embraced his father tightly before dropping to his knees alongside his mother’s chair and kissing her gently.
“I am so relieved to see you all well,” the Prince sighed. From above it appears as if the entire city was totally destroyed.”
“It may as well have been,” declared King Byron. “Targa as a nation no longer exists as it used to. The Army has been decimated and now resembles a city garrison more than a nation’s army. Most of the reports from the North indicate total destruction of the outpost garrisons and the villages around them. I’m afraid that I am the last King of Targa. Perhaps I should be called the King of Tagaret. That would be more appropriate because this ruined city is all that is left of Targa.”
“Alcea,” Prince Oscar sighed sitting on the table. “Tagaret is the ancient city of Alcea. Alex and Jenneva told me of the ancient prophecy and it foretells of the future King of Alcea. Father, you need to reform your kingdom into the Kingdom of Alcea and the Red Swords as the Knights of Alcea. The Kingdom must survive at all costs if the prophecy is to be fulfilled favorably.”
Queen Marta started crying and the room fell quiet. King Byron’s eyes saddened and softly he addressed his son.
“Oscar, the Princess Lidia was sunk on its way to Grakus. There were no reports of survivors.”
The Prince slumped to the floor and stared off into space. For a long time the room remained silent, each of its occupants lost in their own thoughts of despair. Finally, Prince Oscar rose from the floor and gazed out the window at the ruins of the city. Queen Marta rose from her chair and embraced Oscar.
“Oscar,” she whispered, “we don’t know for sure that they died on the voyage. Perhaps they were saved somehow.”
“They must have survived,” braved Oscar. “I will search for them and I will find them. Do not worry for me, Mother. Help Father rebuild the Kingdom.”
The Prince kissed his mother and embraced the King. “Father, take care of my mother and our Kingdom. I may not return, but the Heir will come to rule Alcea. I promise you that. General Gregor, you will be the first Steward of Alcea. See that the Crown remains available for its Rightful King. If my parents die before the Heir returns, it will be the task of the Steward to maintain the Kingdom until he returns.”
“Won’t you be coming back after you’ve found Callie and the baby?” asked Queen Marta.
“It would not be safe to do that,” answered Prince Oscar. “Sarac will be searching for the True Heir to the Throne of Alcea. Neither of you will be in danger from the Dark One, but Callie and the baby will be. I will send Yorra back to Glendor. Tell Alex and Jenneva to go there. Yorra will know where I can be found and can tell them what happened to Jenneva’s baby. The Heir can only return when the prophecy is to be fulfilled.”
Prince Oscar turned and left the Royal Palace in search of Yorra. Together they ascended into the murky sky and headed for the Isle of Grakus.
Alex mounted Wyka and Jenneva climbed onto Kaz. Together they headed westward towards Mount Kalas and the castle of the Dark One. Their plan was fairly simple. Jenneva would use showy bursts of magic on the lower slopes of the mountain, drawing as many of the Dark One’s forces towards her as she could. Once the enemy started to counterattack, Alex and Wyka would keep them busy while Jenneva and Kaz slipped away to position themselves near the castle. Jenneva had to cast the spell without being distracted by the Black Devils trying to attack her.
Jenneva and Kaz swept down to the beginning of the mountain path that led to Sarac’s castle. Half a dozen ogres stood on the path and watched the woman and unicorn drift down out of the sky. Jenneva remained on Kaz’s back as she tossed several fireballs at the ogres. The flaming ogres began to scream and charged towards their tormentor. The base of the mountain path was not visible from the castle, but Jenneva had little doubt about the castle’s ability to hear the screams.
The six ogres never made it to Jenneva as they succumbed to the inferno she had cast onto them. Soon the path was alive with ogres rushing down the mountain to attack whoever they found there. Jenneva kept the fireballs flying into the charging ranks of ogres and soon the path was a solid wall of flame. Still the ogres charged through it in a feeble attempt to reach the female magician.
Alex and Wyka circled high in the sky, keeping a constant vigil on the mountain path. Alex saw the ogres swarming down the mountainside and Jenneva
incinerating them when they reached the bottom. Soon Alex saw scores of Black Devils leaving the castle and charging down the path, as well. Alex knew his time to attack was near. He could not allow the Black Devils to get within striking range of Jenneva because their combined power would overwhelm her.
As the Black Devils closed on Jenneva’s position, Wyka soared down on the castle and proceeded down the path following the Black Devils. Wyka hugged the trail and Alex drew his sword in one hand and fisted a Lanoirian Star in the other. Wyka swept along the path so quickly that Alex fought to keep from getting dizzy. As they rounded a bend, Wyka stretched her claws before her and flew into the ranks of the Black Devils at shoulder height. The first two Black Devils were impaled on Wyka’s claws and dozens more were knocked to the ground or off the path to tumble down the rocks.
The screams from the rear alerted the evil magicians and soon Wyka was soaring into their upturned faces. Alex managed to get off a few Lanoirian Stars, but his sword could not reach any of the enemy as those that were not pitched off of the path directly had flattened themselves to the path.
Jenneva took her cue and Kaz leaped into the air and away from the mountain path. Wyka and Alex soon shot through the flames of Jenneva’s barrier and took up her previous position at the base of the mountain pathway. Confusion took hold of Sarac’s forces, but eventually they continued their downward charge. Alex threw Lanoirian Stars as the ogres continued to flood through the fiery barrier. Wyka’s claws shred any of the ogres that survived the fire and Alex’s sharp missiles.
Kaz positioned Jenneva on the opposite side of the castle from the path and hovered patiently while she incanted her Spell of Binding.
The Black Devils advanced towards Alex and he deflected their missiles with his sword and shield while Wyka backed up to the limit of their range, hovering over the canyon alongside the path. One of the Black Devils tossed a spell that split the air above Wyka and she plummeted towards the canyon floor. Alex grabbed the dragon’s scales and hung on as Wyka dropped downward dangerously out of control. Wyka managed to spread her wings enough to glide away from the mountain just as her claws scraped the edge of the cliff.
With Alex and the dragon out of the way, the Black Devils noticed that Jenneva was missing. As if under orders from the Dark One himself, the Black Devils turned and raced back up the mountain path towards the castle. Sarac saw his men returning and smiled, confident that his foes had finally been vanquished.
Sarac’s smiled faded as he saw Lattimer round the bend and wave at him. Sarac, you are in danger. The witch is missing. I think she has come to imprison you.
Sarac wheeled around and saw Jenneva sitting on Kaz, concentrating on her spell. The Dark One hurled a projectile at the female mage, but Kaz deftly slid sideways avoiding the missile without jostling his passenger. Sarac prepared to toss another spell at Jenneva when the sky split and an enormous flash of brilliant light enveloped the castle. The stone blocks of the castle radiated an intense white light that was as blinding as the sun. The Black Devils halted on the path as the castle burst into a red flash and the very foundation of Mount Kalas rocked and swayed.
Sarac was tossed to the floor of the tower as the structure turned an icy blue and a freezing cold wind swept through the castle and down the path. The mountain trail turned to ice and the Black Devils slipped and lost their footing, clamoring to grab a handful of the mountain before they slid into oblivion.
With another wave of her hand, Jenneva watched the Dark One’s sanctuary turn brown as dust and all of the surrounding plant life withered and died. With a final touch of the Binding Spell, the castle turned deathly black and slime oozed from between the stone blocks.
Jenneva had Kaz maneuver around the castle to the path that approached its front door. The Black Devils were in disarray as they fought for a handhold on the pathway that was now an aqueduct for the flowing slime. Kaz hovered again as Jenneva cast a spell on the pathway. The Black Devils knew what was coming and they scrambled for safety. A few managed to gain entrance to the castle, while most of them went screaming down the path. A few tried to magically attack Jenneva, but most were smart enough to know that there wasn’t time for anything but escape.
Jenneva finished her incantation and the path erupted into a thousand showering meteors. Those magicians who chose to attempt an attack on Jenneva were thrown into the air along with tons of rock and soil. Those who managed to escape were now starting to retaliate against Jenneva and her unicorn and Kaz quickly soared away from the mountain.
Alex and Wyka joined the retreat and the four fighters glided over the Boulder Mountains and settled near Egam’s cave. Alex quickly jumped off Wyka and ran to Kaz to help Jenneva dismount. Jenneva passed out, her strength depleted, and Alex laid her gently on the ground. After he revived his wife he lifted her head and carefully fed her the elixir she had prepared for this moment.
“Is it done?” Alex queried.
“Yes,” replied Jenneva. “Sarac is imprisoned until one of the possible branches of the prophecy is fulfilled. Get me to Egam’s cave where we can rest for the night. In the morning we will start our search for the children.”
“Why did you destroy the pathway if Sarac is locked up in the tower?” inquired Alex. “You could have been killed confronting all of his magicians at once.”
“Sarac is imprisoned,” answered Jenneva, “but people may still enter and exit his castle. He will be issuing orders to his unholy troops and I wanted to make it a little more difficult for his Black Devils to get in and out of his prison. Besides, I didn’t allow them enough time to react. Hopefully, we killed quite a few of them today, but I fear that he will just create new ones as he needs them.”
“And the ones he creates, will be looking for the babies,” sighed Alex.
“Yes,” conceded Jenneva, “we will just have to find them first.”
Oscar and Yorra swept over the Grakus coastline and the Prince guided the unicorn towards his villa, which was perched on the side of a mountain overlooking the craggy coastline. The building had a very modest exterior as the bulk of the residence extended into the mountain. From a distance the villa appeared as not much more than a well-kept artist’s home and the people in the only village within walking distance believed it to be just that.
Yorra set down on the path where it widened as it approached the home and Oscar ran to the door hoping to find Callie and the baby safely inside. He quickly raced through the house and verified that Callie had never arrived. Laden with despair, Oscar retired for the night and slept fitfully, tossing and turning. By the time the sun rose, Oscar gave up trying to ease his exhaustion and mounted Yorra for a ride into the village.
Oscar entered the village inn and ordered breakfast. While he waited for his meal, Oscar opened the locket that John Secor had given him as a gift. On the inside of the locket, John had painted a portrait of Callie and Oscar fought back his tears as he gazed at the picture. He realized he would gladly give up his riches and his kingdom just to have Callie back with him. He left his locket on the table as he ate his breakfast in silence, oblivious to everything around him.
The food and coffee revitalized Oscar and he mentally promised himself that he would not give up the search until he brought Callie or her body back to the villa. When he had finished eating he spoke with everyone in the inn and showed them the picture of Callie. No one had seen her and he left to canvass the entire village.
Once again he mounted Yorra and headed down the trail to the coast. He rode along the coast road searching the beach and surf for wreckage that might belong to the Princess Lidia. Several times he spotted debris and stopped to check it out, each time verifying that the wreckage was not from a Targan ship. When he reached the first village on the coast he dismounted and opened his locket. Methodically, he canvassed the entire village asking about shipwrecks and inquiring about any stranded women or children.
By sunset he had covered five leagues of coastline and three villages and there had
been no sign of Callie or the baby. He acquired a room for the night and finally got some decent sleep. The next morning he was up at sunrise and back to searching for his lost family.
After several weeks of searching, Oscar was no closer to finding his family than when he started looking. He was also not the same person as when he started his hunt. Oscar didn’t cry anymore, nor did he laugh at the tavern jokes or performers. He didn’t smile or scowl, but went through each day like some lifeless animated doll performing a well-rehearsed play, stopping at each piece of sea wreckage, questioning every villager.
The first spark of life that returned to the Prince of Targa was in a tiny fishing village well down the coast of Grakus. An old fisherman stared at the locket that Oscar held forth and rubbed his jaw.
“Well, I can’t say that I ever saw a woman as beautiful as this one,” the old fisherman drawled. “I ain’t seen her, that’s for sure, but I did hear tale of a netter rescuing a damsel from the drink not long ago. Might be her. Might not.”
Oscar immediately perked up. “Which fisherman? I need to talk with him. Where can I find him?”
“Don’t really know,” pondered the fisherman. “He’s not local, you know. Not from around here. He comes in about twice a year to buy supplies. He likes the quality of netting material that Jacob has.”
“Where can I find this Jacob?” Oscar asked impatiently.
The old man turned and pointed to a shack just down the coast. “Jacob’s is that building right there, but he gets a lot of customers in from all over the place. Don’t know if the netter said anything about the woman to him.”
Oscar thought frantically as the old fisherman turned towards his boat. He reached out and grabbed the old man before he could cast off. “Wait!” Oscar cried. He reached into his pouch and pulled out a large gold nugget. “You can share this gold with Jacob if you can describe the netter to him and he can tell me where to find him.”
Ancient Prophecy Page 24