Amafar nodded.
‘You’re right,’ he said, with a flow of solidarity sweeping through his bones. ‘We are one and one we shall remain. No one will beat back the mages who hold Oakwood blood in their veins. The power of the magician’s wrath hasn’t been felt in over a hundred years. Yes, you’re right, I too can feel the change which is so imminent amongst us and I embrace it. If it means a fight then I will fight at Bridgemear’s side too.’
‘So be it,’ said Voleton, kicking his horse to spur it on. ‘Our allegiance has been set once and for all. For the honour and pride of the wizards of Oakwood we will fight to the death, and hell will have to wait until eternity ends to claim its prize.’
*
King Gamada watched for the return of his trusted messenger, Amadeus, with growing anticipation. He had been gone far too long and with each passing day Gamada saw the return of Crystal slipping away. In desperation he had sent Phaphos to find him, who had previously returned with Arhdel and the boy from the ordinary world, but now they too had disappeared and a dark foreboding crept unwillingly down his spine.
He was sat in his luxurious dining room eating alone when one of his servants came to his side and placed a small silver platter before him. On it lay a piece of parchment folded into the shape of a cone. He picked it up and inspected the vellum before dismissing the servant with a wave of his hand. The strange letter was sealed with wax and he noted the bond had been made by a small, circular signet. His name was written in black, flowing letters, but the handwriting was unfamiliar to him.
He reached for the crystal letter opener, shaped like a sliver of ice, and slid it across the seal. Scanning the few scanty lines, King Gamada took an inward gasp, his eyes opening wide when he digested the contents of the letter. Hate and envy lurked uninvited within his darkening soul. It was just as he feared; Crystal had been captured by the mad King Forusian and was holding her prisoner, along with his faithful warrior Arhdel. The words were bold, demanding a substantial amount of money if he wished to see them both alive again.
The letter stated a rendezvous would be held at the Tower of Leddour. His kidnapper pulled no punches; he must come alone and if he was followed his captives would die. With a strong hand he crumpled the letter into a tight ball. His frustration fuelled a hot fire in his belly, one he realised he could not put out, not until he had Crystal back where she belonged. He felt his fury rise, knowing he had no choice but to meet the demands of the Nonhawk king.
After a moment’s thought he got up and crossed the room to look out of the large dome-shaped window which gave him a splendid view of his city.
‘Damn Forusian,’ he cursed, watching a mounted flag blow fiercely in the wind. The bright, masterful colours were bold and distinctive, but gave the king little comfort. He lowered his gaze and returned to his chair. He rubbed his temples when tension stabbed him behind his eyes like an invisible blade. He had been watching the Nonhawk king for some time and Forusian’s plans to start a war against him had been filtering back to him through his own spies.
He slammed his fist on the table whilst he fought with what was left of his conscience, trying in desperation to think of a way to defeat Forusian without the need of Crystal. His thoughts were interrupted by a sudden commotion followed by the doors to the dining room being flung aside to reveal the magician Elveria. He was followed closely by several other magicians.
‘Forgive the intrusion,’ Elveria bellowed, making his way to the king’s table, ‘but we need to speak to you urgently.’
‘Well, well, well, this is an unexpected surprise,’ said Gamada, forcing a watery smile. He relaxed his clenched fists and left the table to greet the magicians, leaving the crumpled letter unattended on his plate.
‘You’re always welcome in my realm,’ he said, trying to stop his eyes from narrowing, ‘but tell me, what brings you all the way out here?’
Elveria made quick work of the tale. Finishing with, ‘And we cannot believe that you have brought Crystal back to our land; on whose authority did you seek to do so? I’m sure you can see it from our perspective and it all looks extremely suspicious.’
Gamada’s eyes hardened. ‘This is neither the time nor the place to discuss why I have summoned Crystal,’ he said, trying to keep calm.
A troubled expression spread across Elveria’s face whilst he digested the king’s words.
‘I can assure you this is exactly the time and place,’ said a voice from somewhere behind him, a voice the king deemed somewhat familiar.
Gamada lifted his gaze, his eyes searching the many faces, and it was then that he spied Bridgemear. He recognised the handsome face immediately; time had not altered his chiselled good looks and a stab of resentment crept into his bitter heart.
Elveria noticed the look of distaste that was spreading over the king’s face and he made his way to his side in an attempt to distract his attention away from the once disgraced magician.
‘I know what you’re thinking,’ he hissed in the king’s ear, flashing him a warning look, ‘but we are not here to bring up any more of the past than we need to.’
The king felt a sharp chill fill his bones when he spoke.
‘There is trouble brewing within the Nonhawk kingdom and Crystal may become our only hope of keeping peace within our realms,’ he said, beckoning to his servants. ‘But you’re right; the rest of what happened all those years ago has become ancient history.’
Elveria looked pacified.
‘Bring me food and wine for my guests,’ called the king to his servants. ‘I’m sure they are in great need of sustenance.’
The wizards grinned, pleased they were to be made welcome, and relief filled Elveria’s tense features. The food was brought out quickly and King Gamada guided his guests to his enormous table, enticing them with the delicious aromas of exquisite meats.
‘Tuck in and fill your empty bellies,’ he said, sounding jubilant; however, out of the corner of his eye he spotted Amadeus lurking in the shadows.
‘Excuse me a moment,’ he said, placing a cup of wine in Elveria’s hand. ‘I have just noticed that you have brought with you one of my good men.’
He made a gesture for Amadeus to approach.
‘Where have you been?’ he snapped, trying to stay calm.
Amadeus bowed low.
‘Sire, there are things amiss; it’s a long story, but I was taken by Forusian’s men once I reached Fortune’s End. They captured me and took me to Forusian’s castle but I managed to escape. With the help of the keeper, I was able to track down Bridgemear to give him your message concerning his daughter, hence why he has returned with me.’
Gamada pulled Amadeus to one side, his grasp firm and strong.
‘Never mind all that. Is it true Forusian has captured both Crystal and Arhdel too?’ he demanded, unconsciously digging his fingers into the warrior’s flesh. Amadeus dropped his gaze.
‘I was not aware Forusian held Crystal, sire,’ he said, his face clouding like dark rain. ‘I assume therefore that he intercepted the wagon at some point?’
Gamada let out a huge sigh of frustration.
‘Yes, of course he did,’ he said, sounding weary, ‘and no one has seen or heard from her since.’
Whilst the king was talking to Amadeus, Mordorma sat himself on a soft cushioned chair next to where the king had been sitting when they arrived. He noticed the crumpled letter left discarded, lying temptingly on the dinner plate and, glancing around, checked he wasn’t being observed before he used his magic to unravel the wrinkled paper.
The parchment rocked on the platter and then disentangled itself before becoming perfectly flat and smooth. Once again, Mordorma checked he wasn’t being watched prior to sliding the letter under his nose. He swiftly read the contents and absorbed the startling demands. Once fully digested, he was both concerned and alarmed by what he’d read. He immediately changed the letter back to its original state and sat there pale faced, unsure of how to react to such shocking news.
King Gamada and Amadeus rejoined the wizards; the mood was mellow and the mages tucked into the multitude of fine dishes with a ravenous appetite.
‘More food!’ called King Gamada, slapping Voleton on the back. ‘Please eat as much as your bellies can muster.’
Bridgemear had fallen silent since his meeting with the king. Bitterness simmered deep within his heart and he had to use all of his willpower to stop himself from letting the grief he felt inside rip free. He knew he must play it cool, but he saw Gamada only as a weak-minded king who’d turned his back on his daughter at a time when she’d needed him the most. Since entering Nine Winters, Bridgemear had done nothing but scan the faces of anyone who passed by, in the hope it would be his beloved Amella. He knew she would not enter back into the realm without the Spirit of Eternity, but he searched their faces in sheer hope that she’d somehow returned.
He felt the room had a tense, guarded atmosphere. The king appeared to wish to pacify his guests a little too much for his liking. The crafty old elf was hiding something, he could sense it, and he watched Elveria stand up and whisper something in the king’s ear once he returned to the table. Gamada paused in mid-sentence and then rose from his chair.
‘Please excuse us,’ he said, leaving the table. ‘Elveria and I have things to discuss in private.’
‘What things?’ asked Voleton, giving him a look of surprise, ‘what is this trickery you set amongst us?’
Before Gamada could answer, Bridgemear also rose from his chair and positioned himself between Elveria and the king.
‘Anything you have to say can be said right here,’ he said, with a defiant glint in his eye.
Elveria’s wrinkled eyes appeared to crease a little more.
‘No, Bridgemear, we have important business to discuss which we do not wish to divulge until we have decided on the correct course of action.’
This time it was Mordorma who interrupted.
‘What is there to say which cannot be said in front of us? We have come here in solidarity to revenge our forefathers and find out what has happened to Bridgemear’s child. We respect you as the eldest wizard, but you do not represent us all here today.’
A rush of anger filled Elveria. He stared hard at Mordorma, livid that the wizard had dared to challenge his authority, but Mordorma was not alone; the other wizards rose from their seats to stand beside him, an unusual alliance growing between them.
‘Very well, as you wish,’ said Elveria, identifying a change in allegiance and swallowing his pride. ‘You’re right, we should stand as a solid unity and I apologise for forgetting my place.’
‘We just want the truth, Gamada,’ Mordorma demanded, hitting the table hard with his fist and allowing his eyes to glow. ‘Tell us, why did you bring Crystal back after all that has happened?’
The king was unsure of how much they knew, until he caught Mordorma staring at the crumpled letter. He cursed himself for his carelessness at leaving it in view; for someone who thought himself clever he was certainly looking a fool. He realised he had no choice but to divulge the information contained inside it and so he gestured for the magicians to take to their seats.
All their eyes were upon him and he inhaled deeply, realising he would look more of a fool if he tried to deceive them again.
The king cleared his throat and then he said, ‘The truth is the outer realms as well as my own are in serious trouble.’ He looked across at Elveria and on seeing his goblet was empty, signalled for the elder mage to help himself to more wine.
An eerie hush crept over the mages and Gamada’s mind whirled in a fretful wave of anxiety, unsure of how this meeting would end.
‘I took council with the Elders and it was eventually decided that I would send one of my shape-changers into the ordinary world in the hope of bringing back Bridgemear’s daughter.’
‘How come you knew where to find her?’ asked Bridgemear, intrigued.
The king looked uncomfortable and the magician found that he could not meet his stare.
‘If you remember, I was one of the original council members who decided her fate. I was privy to where she now lived and therefore sent Tremlon back to seek her out.’
‘So, you’re telling us he went to the ordinary world and told her about us?’ shot Amafar, in despair. ‘What, after everything that was declared to us at that time?’
‘Yes, yes, and I’m sure you think we have gone mad, but we are heading for desperate times which means taking desperate measures.’
Rage was burning deep within Bridgemear and Amafar saw the fury ignite inside his eyes. He left his seat to place a hand of reassurance upon his brother’s shoulder, but Bridgemear was already rising from his chair.
‘You had no right to go to her without my permission,’ he roared, taking a step closer to the king, ‘no right at all.’
‘It’s too late to get angry now,’ said Elveria, sliding over to Bridgemear and gripping his arm. ‘What’s done is done, you cannot change that.’ The king looked pained.
‘Look, what can I say?’ he said, clearing his throat. ‘I learned through my spies of plans made by King Forusian to assemble a new army. We are in peaceful times and our own army is small, we would never survive such an assault. The Elders were knowledgeable as to why Crystal had been banished, for she will become a sorceress stronger than any of us in her own right. You are all aware Crystal was born with immense magic inherited from both of her parents and when she matures she will ultimately have the power of at least ten wizards, a sorceress like no other. Crystal is our only hope for the future; without her we will all be lost.’
‘Such nonsense,’ Mordorma snapped, looking perplexed. ‘Why, she’s barely sixteen and without training in the ways of magic, tell us, what actual help could she possibly be?’
‘Isn’t it obvious?’ gasped Gamada in surprise. ‘We believe even though she is so young and inexperienced she has the power to destroy King Forusian with her transcendental magic alone. Don’t you see, we don’t need to go to war and risk losing so many good elves, not with Crystal by our side, for she would be able to stop Forusian with a single throw of her hand, and as far as I am concerned that could still be possible.’
‘So where is Crystal now?’ asked Elveria, feeling a stir of unease.
Gamada looked ruffled, clearly growing more uncomfortable with each passing moment.
‘Unfortunately, the wagon which was bringing her here was intercepted. Forusian is holding Crystal captive and is demanding gold for her release, which doesn’t make much sense to me. I have heard from my sources that he wishes to copulate with her so he can start his own bloodline, but I don’t think he realises just how powerful she really is; but then, having said that, we don’t know that for sure. We assume he sees her merely as breeding material of a magical kind, one which he perhaps hopes will see him king over all other realms one day. With her by his side and his immense army he will be able to stop at nothing and destroy those who willingly fight against him, enabling him in time to rule our world with his kind forever.’
‘We hadn’t realised things had grown so serious,’ barked Voleton, when the enormity of the situation turned heavy.
‘I can’t believe Crystal’s not here,’ said Bridgemear, moving towards the fire. ‘I have travelled far to see my daughter only to find she is gone once again.’ He placed his hands on the mantel and hung his head, staring down at the burning embers. ‘You know, none of this is making sense. Why would Forusian hold her to ransom when he clearly wishes to keep her for himself?’ He allowed a wave of sadness to wash over him; to think his daughter was now at the mercy of an evil tyrant.
‘Come back to the table,’ coaxed Gamada, waving his hand in the air. ‘We must all decide on a plan of action that will enable us to defeat Forusian and bring Crystal back to where she belongs.’
Bridgemear turned to face the man who had stolen his life. His eyes burned red with fury whilst they rested on Gamada, his body knotting with tension when the phy
sical pain seared through his psyche like a hot blade thrust deep into his soul.
‘You are unbelievable!’ Bridgemear exclaimed. ‘You stand there, calm and composed, and ask for our help after what you have done to my daughter. Because of your stupid pride you told us nothing, preparing instead to use your own granddaughter, your own flesh and blood, as a pawn in some half-hatched plan to win a battle which could, in effect, destroy every realm in the land.’
His eyes flickered to Elveria before returning back to the king. He pointed an accusing finger straight in his direction.
‘I find this all just a little ironic,’ he said, with bitterness running through his voice. ‘You, the king, who punished me all those years ago for breaking the most ancient of laws, now wish to use the fruit of my loins to help defeat Forusian; my, how the tide has turned.’
‘Enough!’ shouted Elveria, clearly irritated by the wizard’s outburst, ‘we must fight together or no one will defeat him.’
‘Damn you, I will have no part of it!’ Bridgemear shouted back in a sudden rage. ‘As far as I am concerned you started this without me so you’re on your own.’ Before anyone could reason with him he made for the door.
‘Running away will not solve a thing,’ Gamada hissed, his voice filled with resentment, but his words were unable to penetrate through Bridgemear’s pulsating skull. Instead, the mage turned and looked at Mordorma, whom he saw as his only ally.
‘I will find my daughter and bring her back to the realm of Raven’s Rainbow,’ he said, when their eyes locked. ‘Crystal is my only concern now. I betrayed her once and lost the love of my life because of it, but I will make amends for what I did and make sure it never happens again.’
With a defiant gesture he swept his cloak across his shoulders and vanished from sight. Silence engulfed the remaining magicians until Elveria beckoned to Amadeus.
‘Follow him,’ he instructed, ‘do not lose sight of him; he is angry and this will only blind his senses. However, be wary of his temper and keep downwind. Take Mordorma with you, he will use his magic to keep us informed of his whereabouts.’
Sinners of Magic Page 20