Sevenfold Sword: Sorceress

by Jonathan Moeller

  “I told you that I have been corresponding with the dwarven stonescribes of Khald Tormen,” said Antenora. “The design of the Seven Swords are identical to the royal blades once produced by the master smiths of Khald Meraxur, and also appear to be forged of adamant steel. I discovered that a master smith of Khald Tormen named Irizidur led an expedition to the ruins of Khald Meraxur in hopes of finding any secrets of forging left within the city. You know all this already.” Antenora took a deep breath. “However, recently King Axazamar of Khald Tormen sent a new ambassador to High King Arandar’s court. Accompanying the ambassador was a dwarven master smith named Ulzaritar, one of the survivors of Irizidur’s expedition to Khald Meraxur.”

  “Wait,” said Calliande. “I thought that Irizidur’s expedition was never heard from again.”

  “As did I,” said Antenora. “It seems I was mistaken. The High King sent Lord Constable Corbanic to meet the ambassador’s party and escort him to the Citadel. I accompanied Lord Corbanic to meet the ambassador and speak with Ulzaritar as soon as possible, and the two Maledicti attacked us outside the city with a large number of urvaalgs.”

  “How did they get there?” said Calliande. “Wait. They must have used their magic to transport themselves to Andomhaim.” All the Maledicti she had fought had shown the ability to use their magic to travel from place to place in the blink of an eye. The amount of magical power required to transport from Owyllain to Andomhaim would be immense, but with enough time to prepare, the Maledicti could do it.

  “It was a well-prepared ambush,” said Antenora. “Fortunately, the dwarven warriors were equipped with enspelled weapons, and they manage to hold the urvaalgs at bay. I fought the Maledicti, and Gavin arrived with his soulblade. We overwhelmed the urvaalgs, and the Maledicti fled rather than face a Swordbearer.”

  “God and the saints,” said Calliande. “How many people did they kill?”

  “A half-dozen of Lord Corbanic’s knights,” said Antenora. “Seven of the dwarven warriors. Both the ambassador and High King Arandar were furious, but not with each other. Should we devise a method of successfully traveling to Owyllain, both the High King and the King of Khald Tormen would be eager to aid King Hektor against the Maledicti.”

  “That is good to know,” said Calliande, though she had no idea how to travel from Owyllain to Andomhaim. “But why did the Maledicti go to all that trouble? Surely they couldn’t want to assassinate the dwarven ambassador. Both Andomhaim and Khald Tormen are so far from Owyllain that they couldn’t pose any threat to the Maledicti.” But even as Calliande spoke, the answer came to her. “It wasn’t about any of them, was it? It was about you. The Maledicti wanted to kill you and Ulzaritar to stop you from communicating with me.”

  “Based on some of the things Khurazalin said during the fight, I concur,” said Antenora. She coughed once and shifted position. “In part, it was retribution for my assistance to the Shield Knight during the fight at the Tower of Nightmares. But mainly, it was to keep me from speaking with Ulzaritar about Irizidur.”

  “What did Ulzaritar tell you?” said Calliande. “What did the Maledicti wish to keep me from hearing?”

  “Ulzaritar told me about Irizidur,” said Antenora. “Irizidur was…a genius, brilliant, insightful and skilled. He was both a powerful stonescribe and a master smith of profound skill and knowledge. The reverse side of that coin, I fear, was that he was…if not quite insane, at least mentally unstable. He was prone to wild mood swings and completely indifferent to the consequences of any of his decisions.”

  “Given how the dwarves prize stoicism,” said Calliande, “I am surprised they respected him so much.”

  “His skill was indeed profound, and that counted for much,” said Antenora. “Irizidur became obsessed with recovering the lost secrets of the master smiths of Khald Meraxur, for they had been the greatest smiths of the nine kingdoms of the dwarves. Three hundred years ago, just after the first war with the Frostborn began, he led an expedition into the ruins of Khald Meraxur, intent on recovering those secrets. Ulzaritar was a new-made stonescribe then, and he accompanied Irizidur’s expedition. They fought through the deep orcs and the kobolds that had taken up residence in the ruins, and though they lost half their numbers, they reached Khald Meraxur’s foundries.”

  “What did they find?” said Calliande.

  “A great deal, apparently,” said Antenora. “Some of the knowledge they sought was recorded on those metal tablets the dwarves use for important records. However, much of it was missing. They also found accounts written by a few dwarves who had survived the Sovereign’s destruction of Khald Meraxur, and they indicated that the Sovereign had taken many of the dwarves’ tablets and departed for a new land across the sea. Irizidur wanted to descend into the Deeps and follow the Sovereign’s trail beneath the sea. The survivors of the expedition quarreled. Ulzaritar and many others thought they had found enough and lost enough. Irizidur and a few others wished to continue and believed that recovering those lost secrets might be the key to saving Khald Tormen from the Frostborn. In the end, Irizidur and his followers departed for the Deeps, and Ulzaritar and the others returned to Khald Tormen.”

  “And it seems that Irizidur was never seen in Khald Tormen again,” said Calliande.

  “It would appear not,” said Antenora.

  “But I talked to someone who saw him,” said Calliande.

  “Indeed?” Antenora leaned forward, her bloodshot eyes brightening. Her apprentice was of a more scholarly bent than Calliande, and she sometimes hungered for knowledge the way that Calliande hungered for food or Ridmark’s touch. “Who?”

  “The gray elves,” said Calliande. “After the muridachs were defeated, King Kyralion gave Third two unique swords. Blades of gray elven steel but forged and enchanted by a dwarven smith named Irizidur. It seems that Irizidur visited Cathair Caedyn at some point in the past. The gray elves said that he had come to Owyllain in search of lost secrets, though he did not tell them what he sought.”

  “Truly?” said Antenora, her fascination obvious. “When was this?”

  “About two hundred years ago,” said Calliande. “I should have thought to ask for the exact date, but I didn’t. In gratitude for their hospitality, Irizidur forged those two swords for the gray elves as a gift and then departed. The gray elves never saw him again.”

  “I believe it is safe to conclude that Irizidur went to Urd Maelwyn in search of the Sovereign and the tablets taken from Khald Meraxur,” said Antenora.

  Calliande shivered. “Aye. And he probably never came out again.”

  “It also seems probable,” said Antenora, “that the Sovereign forced Irizidur to forge the Seven Swords for him. The men of Owyllain believe that the Seven Swords are of dark elven making, but their design is identical to the royal blades of adamant steel produced by the master smiths of Khald Meraxur. It is likely that Irizidur either forged the Swords or had a hand in their design.”

  “But why?” said Calliande.

  “The Sovereign forced him,” said Antenora. “Given the Sovereign’s reputation, no doubt he forced Irizidur to comply with his wishes.”

  “Probably,” said Calliande. “But why would the Sovereign force Irizidur to make him seven magical swords of great power?”

  Antenora shrugged. “As a weapon?”

  “Then why didn’t the Sovereign use the Swords to save himself from Kothlaric Pendragon?” said Calliande. “Why didn’t the Sovereign ever use the weapons in his wars with Owyllain or with the gray elves? No one had ever heard of them until Kothlaric found them inside Urd Maelwyn.”

  “I do not know,” said Antenora. “The only logical surmise is that the Sovereign intended them for a purpose other than as weapons.”

  Calliande took a deep breath. “Such as summoning the New God?”

  “It would appear so, based upon your observations of the Maledicti,” said Antenora. “Everyone you have met in Owyllain seems to believe the seven surviving Maledicti transferred their allegian
ce from the Sovereign to the New God after the Sovereign’s defeat. But I wonder. Perhaps they are following a plan the Sovereign laid out before his death at Kothlaric’s hands.”

  “But what plan?” said Calliande.

  “I do not know,” said Antenora again. “But consider. The Maledicti were willing to travel thirty-five hundred miles and risk attacking me so I would not share this information with you. Whatever it is, plainly they do not want you to know about it.”

  “Plainly,” said Calliande. “This is an important piece of the puzzle, but I do not know where it fits.”

  “Perhaps it is better to say that we have found a key,” said Antenora. “Now it is simply a matter of locating the appropriate lock.” She started to say something and then burst into a coughing fit.

  “Antenora?” said Calliande.

  “I fear I must rest,” said Antenora. “The fight with the Maledicti drained me. Should I learn anything more, I will contact you as soon as I am able.”

  “Rest,” said Calliande. “Thank you, Antenora.” She hesitated. “And tell Gavin my thanks for looking after you. It grieves me that you nearly came to harm trying to help.”

  Antenora smiled. “I am glad to serve, Keeper.” She snorted. “And we faced Tymandain Shadowbearer and the full wrath of the Frostborn. Compared to them, a pair of orcish warlocks in elaborate robes is hardly threatening.”

  “Now you sound like Gavin,” said Calliande.

  Antenora smiled again. “But a husband should be a good influence on his wife, should he not?”

  Her eyes closed, and Calliande realized that Antenora had fallen asleep.

  She let the link dissolve and blinked several times as her awareness settled back around her body of flesh. Calliande rubbed her temple with her free hand and looked around. Calem remained at the edge of the little island, keeping watch. The others had seated themselves and ate their rations. Magatai was amusing himself by making ribald jokes about the poisonous fruit, and even Krastikon laughed a few times.

  Calliande found her eyes resting on the Sword of Death at Krastikon’s belt, at the stylized symbol of a closed eye on the Sword’s pommel.

  Had Irizidur forged the Seven Swords at the Sovereign’s command? Or had the Sovereign taken the knowledge from Irizidur and then killed the dwarven smith? Either way, why? Why had the Sovereign forged instruments of war that he had never used? Why had he created implements capable of summoning the New God?

  Calliande wanted to scream in frustration. Since coming to Owyllain, she had heard Ridmark speak about his annoyance with mysteries, how the Seven Swords, the seven Maledicti, and the seven lives of Tamara were all connected by some secret they could not see, some secret that might get them all killed.

  At that moment, she understood his annoyance with mysteries far better than she had ever wanted.

  “Lady Calliande?” said Kalussa. She coughed and blinked her irritated eyes a few times. “Did Lady Antenora have news?”

  “She did,” said Calliande, and her tone made the others stop eating to look in her direction. “Two of the Maledicti traveled to Tarlion and attacked her. Khurazalin and the Maledictus of Water, it seems.”

  “Dear God,” said Tamlin. “How did they even get there?”

  “Magic,” said Calliande. “We’ve all seen the Maledicti use magic to transport themselves. With enough time to prepare, it seems they were able to transport themselves to Andomhaim.” She felt a stab of jealousy and pushed it aside. Had she possessed such a power, her children would now be safe within the walls of Tarlion itself.

  “It was vengeance for her aid at Cathair Selenias, wasn’t it?” said Tamara. “Because she helped us there against the Maledicti.”

  “In part,” said Calliande. “But mostly it seems to have been to stop her from telling me something she learned. That dwarven smith Irizidur who forged Third’s swords? It seemed he was obsessed with recovering the lost secrets of Khald Meraxur…”

  “And the Sovereign was the dark elven lord who destroyed Khald Meraxur before he came to Owyllain,” said Tamlin.

  “We know the design of the Seven Swords is similar to the royal blades of Khald Meraxur,” said Calliande. “Almost identical, in fact. Antenora discovered that Irizidur disappeared centuries ago in pursuit of the Sovereign, hoping to wrench the secrets of Khald Meraxur from him. We also know that Irizidur visited Cathair Caedyn…and when he left the gray elves to continue his quest, he was probably going to Urd Maelwyn.”

  The others considered that in silence.

  “Then you are saying,” said Krastikon, “that it is possible this dwarf smith forged the Seven Swords?”

  “I don’t know,” said Calliande. “But the Maledicti were willing to travel three and a half thousand miles and risk a battle to keep Antenora from telling me this. Based on that, it seems likely that either Irizidur forged the Seven Swords or played a significant hand in their creation.”

  “It makes sense,” said Tamara, her mismatched eyes haunted. “Consider how much effort the Maledicti undertook to hunt down and kill my other selves. They came themselves, or they sent the Scythe after me.”

  “And they love obfuscation and trickery and lies,” said Tamlin. “They’ve obviously been playing the different sides of the War of the Seven Swords against each other. Else why would Urzhalar have advised my father, Qazaldhar have aided Lord Taerdyn, and the Maledictus of Water assist the Confessor?”

  “And that business with the Maledictus of Shadows and the Masked One,” said Krastikon. “The Masked One of Xenorium is no threat to anyone. That trickery is the favorite tactic of the Maledicti.”

  “My whole life,” said Kalussa, “we have thought that the Seven Swords were dark elven weapons forged by the Sovereign himself. Could we have been wrong that entire time?”

  “It would appear so,” said Calliande. “And it was a lie carefully constructed by both the Maledicti and the Sovereign.”

  “But why?” said Krastikon. “Why go to such lengths to conceal the truth? Forged by the Sovereign or forged by this mad dwarf, surely it makes no difference.”

  “It must be important,” said Calliande. “Else the Maledicti would not have risked a journey to Tarlion to attack Antenora. Yet I cannot see why it matters.”

  They sat in silence for a moment, considering the problem.”

  “Bah,” said Magatai. “By the Dominus Christus and the spirits of all the ancestors, Magatai tires of these puzzles. Give Magatai a bow, an arrow, and a clean line of sight to his enemy, and he is happy. None of these games of ancient mad wizards.”

  “At Cathair Caedyn you had a bow, an arrow, and a clean line of sight to your foe,” said Tamara in a dry voice, “and I don’t think we would want to do all that over again.”

  “We won that battle,” said Magatai. “And it is still better than the scheming of sinister wizards.”

  “There were wizards aplenty among the muridachs at Cathair Caedyn,” said Tamlin.

  “Aye, and we smote them righteously. Magatai wearies of enigmas and mysteries.”

  “My husband would agree with you,” said Calliande.

  “Well, friend Ridmark is a man of great wisdom,” said Magatai.

  Calliande started to answer when Calem turned and walked towards them.

  “Someone approaches,” he said. “I think Lord Ridmark and Lady Third return.”

  “Excellent,” said Krastikon. “Perhaps they’ve found a better route through this damnable marsh.”

  “And I agree with Magatai,” said Calem. “Half my life has been a mystery.” He tapped the hilt of the Sword of Air at his belt. “And I still know not who gave me this Sword, nor who bound me as an assassin.”

  “Well, when we find Rhodruthain,” said Calliande, “perhaps I shall beat the answers to all our questions out of him.”

  Magatai laughed, and Calliande smiled at him.

  He thought she was joking. She wasn’t.

  A moment later Ridmark and Third returned, picking their way over t
he grassy islands to their temporary camp. Third remained as calm as ever, though something about her seemed more…at peace, somehow, since the battle at Cathair Caedyn. Calliande was struck by how at ease Ridmark seemed in the swamp. No, that wasn’t quite the right word. Rather, he seemed at home, almost, but he always was at home in the wilderness. He walked with the economical movement of a veteran warrior, and somehow he managed to do it in near-silence as well. That was impressive enough in a forest with grass and branches underfoot, but on the uneven ground of the swamp, it was astonishing.

  Well. Calliande had been impressed by Ridmark when they had met for the first time ten years ago, and nothing had changed since then.

  “Ridmark,” she said, getting to her feet.

  His hard face softened as he looked at her. “Calliande. I think we actually have good news.”

  “You’ve found a way through the swamp?” said Tamlin.

  “Third did,” said Ridmark. “A causeway about eight miles north of here. Probably the xiatami built it to enable trade through the marshes, just as Tamlin suspected. We should be able to follow it from here to the Tower Mountains.” He scratched his chin, the graying stubble rasping beneath his fingers. “Though we'll run into anyone traveling through the marsh as well, I suppose. Still, if they’re hostile, at least we can fight with solid ground under our feet.” He looked at the others. “We should set out at once. If we leave now, we ought to be able to reach the causeway by nightfall. I don’t think anyone would object to a night on solid ground.”

  “No,” said Calliande as the others got to their feet. “Ridmark, there’s something I have to tell you.”

  “What is it?” he said. “Bad news?”

  “No,” said Calliande. “Another piece of the puzzle. We…”

  In unison, Ridmark, Third, and Calem looked to the north. Calliande frowned, trying to see what had caught their attention. She didn’t see anything unusual. But now that she looked, the waters of the marsh were rippling more than they had earlier.

  A dozen huge grayish-green forms erupted from the water and rushed towards them.