“I’ve got her,” the guard said, as he pulled her roughly from the cell.
The other guard grabbed one arm and jerked her upright. The queen hadn’t stood up in a long time; her legs were weak from lack of use and fear. Her knees buckled, but the other guard grabbed her other arm. Struggling was useless, they were much too strong for the queen to break free. They squeezed her arms so tightly that it hurt, wrenching her body upright and holding her up.
“Time to go,” Amvyr said in a playful voice.
Then she laughed, and cold terror began to worm its way into Issalyn’s mind. The guards dragged her behind Amvyr and up the stone stairwell. Issalyn quit struggling. It was useless and even if she did succeed, she would probably knock one of the guards off the narrow stairs only to be dragged down with him.
“Where are you taking me?” Issalyn asked.
“To the temple,” Amvyr said. “Your most glorious hour awaits.”
“What does that mean?”
“You shall see. Your pathetic life will finally have meaning. You will be remembered as the spark that ignited the world.”
“I don’t want to,” Issalyn said. “Can’t you just let me go?”
“What would you return to, Queen Issalyn?” Amvyr said in a mocking tone. “Do you long for the days when servants waited on you hand and foot? Do you miss the festivals and feast days when pathetic simpletons begged for your attention and you dressed like a jester to be paraded before the mewling crowds? That was no life, there was no power in your position, it was only a mockery of the inevitable reality to come.”
“What are you talking about?” Issalyn said. “Have you gone mad?”
“No,” Amvyr suddenly turned to face Issalyn on the crumbling stairway. “My whole life before was madness. Now I know the master of worlds and the fate of the Five Kingdoms. Now my life has meaning, just as your death shall have.”
“Please don’t,” Issalyn said.
Amvyr ignored the queen’s pleas. The guards dragged her upward, but they stopped before they reached the upper level of the castle ruins. Amvyr placed her hands on the stone wall, and an opening appeared. She led the guards into a dark corridor. Issalyn couldn’t see anything, but her feet touched smooth stone and the footsteps of the guards echoed around her. Then a glimmer of light was visible. The guards forced her into a round chamber with a stone altar in the center. Glowing lines were etched on the altar and on the stone floor. Candles burned in a circle around the altar, their wax flowing down the long tapers and piling up in mounds at the base of each candle.
Issalyn began to struggle again, but the guards held her fast. They carried her to the altar and tied her hands and feet with hairy ropes that rubbed her skin raw. They fastened the ropes to the foot of the altar so that Issalyn was lying on her back, her arms and legs spread wide and held fast.
Amvyr stepped forward with a large knife and Issalyn began to thrash on the cold stone. Amvyr laughed as tears of panic flowed from Queen Issalyn’s eyes.
“Don’t worry,” Amvyr said. “Your time has not yet come.”
Then she slid the knife under the queen’s filthy dress and cut the tattered garment away. The guards were gone, so Amvyr was forced to jerk the ruined clothes out from underneath Issalyn herself. The Queen felt helpless and exposed, her mind seemed to turn inward and even though she felt terror like a heavy weight pressing down on her chest, making it hard to breathe, she thought of happier times. She remembered her childhood, being a little girl in her father’s large home. She remembered playing with friends and hearing her mother’s soothing voice as she sang Issalyn to sleep.
The old crone with the beastly legs came into the chamber with a bucket of water. She scrubbed the queen, but Issalyn hardly noticed. The water was hot, but there was no relief in it, nor did she feel clean when the crone finished and covered the queen’s body with a sheet, tucking and folding it around her shivering form.
“Ready,” croaked the crone to Amvyr who watched patiently a few feet from the altar.
“Good, I will inform the master.”
Both Amvyr and the old crone left the round room and Issalyn was all alone. She lay still for a long time, her mind closed to the things around her. Finally, as the terror eased she came back to herself. She couldn’t remember exactly what had happened, nor did she want to. She did notice the hole in the ceiling. It was about the size of a large wagon wheel and opened onto a long shaft that rose straight up. She could see clouds moving through the night sky, and stars tinkling high overhead. She stared at the sky and waited, knowing she was seeing the beauty of the night for the last time. Death was coming; she could hear its tattered robe brushing against the stone floor, but she was no longer afraid of dying. The truth was, she longed to die. She was tired of the fear, tired of the pain and misery her life had become. But most of all she was tired of the broken promises, of the lost hope, and the bitter disappointment. All she wanted was for everything to end and she knew that soon enough, it would.
Chapter 29
Lorik dozed fitfully in the night. He woke an hour before dawn to see the sky clearing. The thick clouds from the day before that had seemed so impenetrable were now breaking apart like sheets of ice on a frozen stream as it thaws. The stars began to show through, their piercing, white light burned brightly in the dark sky.
The fire nearby had burned down to embers and Lorik sat up, placed a few branches on the embers and laid back down. He was mesmerized by the night sky and he watched it, feeling connected to the larger world and less frightened than when he’d lain down.
The campfire grew, the branches catching on fire, the yellow flames licking up the wood greedily as it burned, the warmth from the fire growing. The stars began to dim as the sun lit the sky with predawn light. Lorik got up again and roused his friends. Vera coughed violently, and Lorik looked at Stone with a worried expression.
“What are we doing today?” Stone asked.
“I’ve got to find Queen Issalyn.”
“So maybe you and I go down there and see what we can find,” Stone suggested. “Vera can stay here and keep watch on the camp.”
“No,” she said, her voice a hoarse croak. “I’m coming.”
“You don’t have to do that,” Stone urged her. “Stay here and rest. You’ll need your strength for the journey back.”
“No,” she said adamantly.
“It’s going to be dangerous,” Lorik said. “That’s all I know for sure.”
“All the more reason we stick together,” Vera said. “Get me some water, Liam, I’ll be fine.”
They ate a light meal, then stashed their rations and canteens in the branches of a tree. Lorik and Stone double checked their weapons and Vera made sure her own dagger was cinched tightly in her belt.
Lorik had the twin swords of Acromin, while Stone carried a short, double edged sword, a round shield he’d picked up from the army near the border, and his fighting knife with the raised, brass knuckle guard. Vera carried a light spear; it was more of a javelin, but had a sturdy double bladed head and was strong enough to fend off an enemy as well as be thrown.
They walked down into the valley together, a sense of dread growing with each step. None of them spoke; they were comfortable in their silence, knowing and trusting one another completely. Vera’s cough cleared and she breathed the cold, winter air deeply into her lungs. They slowed their pace as they neared the first of the ruins in the valley. There was no wall to keep out invaders, and anything not built of stone was long ago rotted to dust. Thick, brown vines covered most of the stone ruins. There were several tall structures that surrounded the other ruins. As they got close to one, Lorik could see the terrible visage of a gargoyle staring blankly out from the crawling vines.
“That’s not a welcoming sight,” Stone said. “Who would have built stone gargoyles all around their city?”
“You think that’s what they all are?” Vera asked.
Lorik looked at the structures. There was one every twen
ty paces or so around the ruins. Some had been knocked over or were missing all together, and everything that remained was covered in crawling vines, but it appeared that at some point the terrible statues had stood guard over the settlement.
“I guess they didn’t like visitors,” Lorik said.
“They give me the creeps,” Vera said.
“They’re just statues,” Stone assured her.
“Don’t take anything for granted today,” Lorik urged them. “We’re dealing with magic here, anything could happen.”
“Kind of like you working your mojo and knocking King Ricard on his posterior,” Stone said.
“It worked, didn’t it?”
“How did you know it would work?” Vera asked.
“I didn’t think about it,” Lorik explained. “I just did it. I was as surprised as you were.”
“But what made you do it?” she persisted.
“It was just instinct I guess.”
“Well, don’t hold back,” Stone said. “You feel like doing something you just do it. We’ll stay behind you.”
They passed the gargoyles and came to several ruins that looked like buildings. None had roofs and very few had all four walls. The vines covered the ruins in a much thicker tangle than they had the gargoyles. The ground was littered with leaves, old vines, and weeds, but there was also flagstones. Most of the stones were cracked and some were missing, but it was obvious the streets of the ancient city were once paved.
They moved closer to the ruins of the castle, studying it intently as they moved along. Each of them kept their hands close to their weapons, even though there was no visible threats. Still, despite the fact that it seemed as if they were alone, they each felt as though danger was hiding just out of sight, waiting for them to drop their guard so it could pounce on them and devour them completely.
When they reached the castle, Lorik breathed a little easier. He had been looking for any sign of danger and had fully expected there to be traps of some kind around the ancient ruins. He was glad they had reached the crumbling structure without getting hurt. Still, the sense of danger was growing. He felt darkness pulsing from the old castle; it was colder than the winter snow, and menacing, like the low growl of an angry dog.
“What now?” Stone asked.
“We have to find a way in,” Lorik explained.
“Surely there’s a doorway,” Vera said.
“Yes, but it’s probably covered in vines,” Lorik said.
They walked around the structure, looking but not touching anything. There was no obvious entrance to the ancient castle. Once they’d made a full circuit, Stone chuckled.
“Well, that was helpful,” he said.
“We’ll have to cut away some of the vines,” Lorik told him.
They began to pull on the woody vines. The vines felt more like saplings and they were so tangled together that it was impossible to simply pull them free. Lorik drew one of his swords and as he did so there was a pulse from the castle, almost like a sudden puff of air.
“What the hell was that?” Stone asked.
“You felt it too?” Lorik said.
“Yes,” Vera said. “I felt it.”
Suddenly they heard a sound like heavy fabric being dropped. They turned and saw the vines that had covered the gargoyles had fallen back around the large, stone statues.
“That’s not good,” Stone said.
The sound of stone grinding against stone grated their nerves from every side. The huge stone statues were coming to life.
“We’ve got to find a way in fast,” Stone said.
“Vera, keep searching,” Lorik said. “We’ll fend off the gargoyles.”
“How? You can’t cut stone, not even with magical swords,” she argued.
“Just find us a way in there,” Lorik shouted.
The nearest gargoyle had turned around. It had a bulbous body with thin, almost sickly looking legs and arms. Thick wings twitched from the gargoyles’ back and Lorik watched in fascination as the gray stone seemed to warm and turn to leathery, green skin.
“Well,” Stone said. “I guess they aren’t stone anymore, that’s good.”
“I hope,” Lorik said, drawing his other sword.
The gargoyle grumbled and moved slowly toward them. Vera drew her slender sword and hacked at the vines covering the ancient castle. She was moving sideways along the massive wall ensuring with each step that there was nothing but solid rock behind the crawling vines.
“Any luck?” Stone called in a loud voice.
“Not yet,” Vera answered frantically.
“Watch my back,” Lorik ordered.
Then he moved toward the gargoyle, but it flapped its wings and rose up in the air. Lorik looked around and all the gargoyles, once heavy stone, were now flesh and blood, their dark red eyes glaring down as they flew up into the sky together.
“That one’s still on the ground,” Stone said, pointing to one of the wretched creatures that was crawling toward them.
“It looks wounded or something,” Lorik said.
“Maybe the statue was damaged.”
“At least it’s moving slowly, we should be able to stay away from it.”
“Look out,” Vera shouted from behind them.
Lorik and Stone looked up to see one of the gargoyles diving. They were clumsy fliers, not graceful like birds or even the green dragon they had seen near the Wilderlands.
Lorik raised his left sword across his head in a defensive position and held the right sword back, ready to strike. The gargoyles had bony feet that looked almost like eagle talons, each of the four toes ending in a sharply curved claw.
“Be careful!” Stone shouted
Lorik bent low, then as the gargoyle dropped closer, he rose quickly, slashing his sword at the bony feet. The sword clashed against the bony protrusions, causing little damage, but eliciting a howl of pain and anger from the gargoyle as it veered away from Lorik.
“Wish we had arrows or spears,” Stone said.
“That would help,” Lorik agreed.
Another gargoyle swooped low, this one diving to head height before leveling and speeding straight toward Lorik, flying parallel to the ground. Lorik waited as long as he dared, the gargoyle’s long, bony arms stretching out for him, its mouth open and full of pointed teeth. Lorik saw a thick, gray tongue lashing just behind the teeth as a bloodcurdling screech erupted from the demon’s mouth. The screech almost froze Lorik in fear, but at the last second he spun out of the flying gargoyle’s path, whirling with one sword stretched out. The blade raked down the creature’s side. Blood fountained, and the massive wing nearly crashed into Lorik as it the creature tried desperately to rise back up into the air. Instead, it crashed to the ground, sliding toward Stone. The creature was facedown, and Stone jumped up, springing off the large round head, and landing on the gargoyle’s back as he plunged his sword down into the creature’s flesh. The gargoyle thrashed, then shivered, howling in pain. Stone jerked his sword out just as the creature morphed back into stone.
Lorik didn’t have time marvel at the gargoyle’s transformation. Another of the dreadful beasts was swooping down, this one bellowing a deep throated roar that Lorik could feel in his chest as the creature approached. This time Lorik’s slashing attack severed two of the gargoyles bony claws. The digits fell and bounced along the ground. One landed on Lorik’s boot and he was surprised at how heavy it felt. He glanced down and saw that too had reverted to stone.
“They’re coming in groups now!” Stone shouted.
“Get closer to the castle,” Lorik ordered. “It should give us some cover.”
They moved back, close to Vera who was still working her way down the wall of the ancient castle. Lorik and Stone kept their backs to the wall of the castle, and the gargoyles who had been diving in an organized group pulled up.
“Good plan,” Stone said.
“They can’t swoop past us this way,” Lorik said.
“Liam!” Vera screamed.
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Both men turned and looked, their eyes opening wide as saw the vines that covered the ancient castle wrapping around Vera and pulling her toward the building.
“Vera!” Stone shouted as he dashed forward.
Both men began to hack at the vines that grew along the wall of the castle. Their swords cut through the woody vines, but there were so many moving to entwine Vera that both men were forced to hack and cut franticly before Stone could pull her away.
“We can’t stay here,” Stone shouted as he embraced Vera, who was shaking uncontrollably.
“There’s an opening,” she said in a voice that pinched with fear. “Behind the vines.”
“We have to go in,” Lorik said, waving his sword at an approaching gargoyle.
The creature pulled up before coming within range.
“That’s suicide,” Stone yelled.
“I’ll go first,” Lorik said. “If it’s safe inside I’ll call to you. If not, flee.”
“No,” Stone shouted.
But Lorik didn’t listen; he dashed forward, slashing at the vines and then barreling into the dark opening. Stone looked up to see the gargoyles circling overhead. He pulled Vera close to his side, covering her body with the wooden shield.
“He’s gone,” Vera said, her voice filled with a deep sense of sadness, almost as if she were saying he was more than gone inside but gone forever.
Stone didn’t know what to say or do. He didn’t want to move too close to the castle, but it was obvious the gargoyles were planning something. Then they heard the grating sound of stone grinding against stone.
“What’s that?” Stone yelled.
Vera’s body became rigid, and he was just about to turn and look to see where the sound was coming from, but at that very moment one of the gargoyles dropped from the sky. It was different than the way the creatures had swooped toward them before, or even more than a steep dive. The gargoyle folded its arms, legs, and even its wings, plummeting toward Stone and Vera.
“Move!” he screamed, shoving Vera forward, her legs finally seeming to work again.
Lorik The Defender (The Lorik Trilogy) Page 26