Taliesin was convinced immortals were mostly crazy, with the exception of Zarnoc, though he had his vicissitudes. He’d had the opportunity to turn the Lorian royal court back to their former selves, but it remained something not done. After she had met King Korax and his court, from what she knew about them, the Lorians were only objects and not people. It was certainly easier to leave them as a collection of hairbrushes or jars, and if she intended to transport them in the tower, they had to remain that way or die. At least that’s what Zarnoc had told her, and she believed him.
Everything in the tower was precisely as Taliesin remembered. There were shelves of books and different-sized jars containing the herbs and potions, feathers, bird skulls, and gems Zarnoc had gathered throughout his lifetime. Stairs led to upper bedrooms, and the tower could grow to any size to accommodate the occupants.
After a few seconds of watching the hairbrush spin, Kull grew bored and leaned back to examine the contents of the tower. A line of large wooden chests filled with gold coins and jewels lay open, and he let out a gasp of surprise.
“How did a Raven Mistress become so wealthy?” Kull didn’t wait for a response. “When one is hiring mercenaries, it is best not to show all of your treasure—you leave no room to haggle. Therefore, my price is those ten chests and the contents within, as well as the silver hairbrush.”
“The coins you can have, Kull, but not the items on the table; those belong to me.” She did not feel like explaining what they were and why they were enchanted, nor did she intend to part with any.
Taliesin handed a wine glass to Kull. She took a sip of spring wine, liking the taste far more than ale, and sat on a chair that let out a manly groan; it was one of Korax’s nobles. Captain Ramla lifted the hairbrush from the table. It contained gold strands of the goddess Broa’s hair, which glowed at his touch. He quickly set it aside when it spoke in Lorian and grabbed his glass of wine.
“I hear voices,” Kull said, sipping his wine. “The speech is Lorian. This strange collection of everyday items is not what it seems. You should be careful what you touch, Captain Ramla; these items are enchanted.”
“I’m not surprised,” the captain said and took a sip of wine. “At least this is real, and it tastes good.”
“There are a number of necklaces made with Broa’s hair, tied to iron nails enchanted by Zoltaire, which I intend to give to your wounded soldiers, Captain Ramla. Your men will not feel the need to drink blood as long as they wear them,” Taliesin said. Beside the hairbrush was a blue clay bowl containing the Broa necklaces Zarnoc and Ismeina had made for her. She pushed the bowl to Ramla. “Give these to your men after you drink your wine. I’d like to speak with my cousin in private.”
“Yes, certainly,” Ramla said. He finished his drink and stood, eager to leave the tower. “Thank you for the gifts, my friend. If you need me, I’ll be right outside.”
Taking the bowl with him, the Red Cobra captain left the tower, and the door closed on its own with a loud thud. Kull neither flinched nor appeared concerned he was alone with the Raven Mistress inside a magical tower. He finished his wine in one gulp, grabbed the bottle, and refilled his glass.
“Almaric is Wolfen, and with Ragnal’s help, the Wolf Clan has grown larger these last few months. You don’t have enough necklaces for the prisoners. Will you enchant them? Is that what you mean to do?” Kull asked. She nodded. “I will help you, Taliesin, but I have no interest in the political affairs of Caladonia. A new threat has brought us here. My spy in the Caladonian court sent word Almaric has paid General Folando of the Hellirin to come to his aid. The Hellirins have always wanted Skarda, and Almaric has offered what is not his to give; Skarda is mine.”
“Your brother didn’t recognize you?” Taliesin asked.
“No, I don’t think so. It’s been years since I’ve been home, and I’ve changed.”
“A few weeks ago, I met King Boran Vorenius and Queen Dehavilyn. Their city was attacked by General Folando and Duchess Dolabra,” she said. “The Lorians and Hellirins have signed a truce, although I don’t know how long it will last. The wizard, Zarnoc, whom I consider a friend, is Boran’s uncle and my distant relative. I fear Boran will join Folando, for there is much land to divide between them. The fairies and darklings are as powerful as they were a thousand years ago. But the wiser plan would be for them to join us and defeat Ragnal.”
Kull set his glass aside and scrutinized the items on the table. The hairbrush gave the table a hard rap and the jewelry in a nearby bowl jingled. Taliesin listened to the agitated whispers. Had the court been friendlier, she would have wanted to release them from the enchantment, but until Zarnoc said otherwise, they’d stay in the tower, though not necessarily on the table. The hairbrush gave another smack and flew toward Taliesin. Kull caught it, slammed it to the table, and placed his calloused hand on a poetry book that had started to flip its pages.
“The Lorians, Hellirins, and Maeceni once inhabited all of Caladonia,” Kull said. “If Ragnal thinks Mt. Helos is threatened by the ancient races, these lands will be ripped apart by magic. I have no use for magic.” He gave the book a hard slap. “Your collection can think. They listen to us. Did you steal these from Duvalen?”
“Actually, they are members of King Korax’s royal court,” she said. “They are very valuable to me, Kull; treat the book with more care.”
In the light from the fire, she noted the lines at the corners of Kull’s eyes and a small scar that formed a sideways ‘T’ above his left eyebrow; he had lived a hard life in the north. Wine sloshed from the bottle and splattered onto the table as Kull refilled his glass, and he overturned an inkbottle in his haste to wipe the spill. The quill lifted into the air and stabbed his hand. With a growl, he jerked his hand away and sucked on the injury.
“As I said, I have no use for magic, nor do I trust the Lorians or Hellirins. Both sides have wizards and sorcerers. It is obvious you have magic, Taliesin, but I see no proof you are stronger than your enemies, and one sha’tar cannot stand against the Magic Realms and Mt. Helos.”
“I must try,” she said. “I intend to leave Captain Ramla here with his men to hold this castle. When it’s light, I will travel to Tantalon Castle. Ragnal is wounded, and my magic feels stronger since he left. I must act now, while I can.”
“Let me give you advice, cousin. Let my brothers fight each other. Wait to see who the victor is before you act. In the meantime, come with me to Skarda; you will be safe in the north.”
“I can’t go with you. I have friends at Tantalon Castle, and my clan waits for me at the Gorge of Galamus.” Taliesin took a large sip of wine. “This is the fourth time Ragnal has challenged me, and he would find me in the north. I must prepare for war, Kull, and I need my friends by my side.”
“Cano is dead.” Kull lifted his glass. “That is a victory, for his death means the end of the werewolves. He was the first werewolf, and his death means the other werewolves are free from that part of the curse. I can see why you now want to kill Varg. A pity you did not do so when you had the chance.”
“I tried,” Taliesin said.
“You’re much different than I remember,” he said. “I can still recall the days you played with Sertorius in the palace garden. You shared his tutors as well; I always wondered why. My aunt is your mother, and this I find interesting. It explains why you were allowed to be at the palace, and why your father was killed. I do not want my brothers to know I still live; keep my secret, give me those chests of gold, and I will help you defeat Ragnal and Varg.”
“Sertorius killed Konall, married the late Duke Richelieu’s daughter, and now brings the entire Garridan army to Padama,” Taliesin said. “I can’t be sure whether he intends to help his father or Almaric.”
“Neither,” Kull growled. “Sertorius plays both sides. If you insist on going to Tantalon Castle, be wary of my family. The brother who sits on the throne will want you as his wife; you bring much to the table, Taliesin. But Konall was the best of my brothers
. He must have tried to help you, if Sertorius killed him.”
“Something like that.” Taliesin didn’t want to explain what happened at Dreskull Castle. Konall’s beheading would torment her for a long time. Nor did she want to discuss her mother or her past with Sertorius. Kull offered wise council. She knew she could trust none of the Draconus family members, but Roland had asked for her, and she was determined to go to him.
“Don’t go to Padama,” Kull said. “It doesn’t matter who you are related to, Taliesin. You are a sha’tar, and magic is outlawed. Sertorius will make certain Aunt Calista denies you are her child, and my father will order your execution. He fears magic; do not think he does not, and do not believe those who say he wants your help. When the Hellirins arrive, you will learn why magic was outlawed.” He finished the bottle of wine and held it in the air. “I am hungry, Raven Mistress. Have you nothing to eat?”
Taliesin took another sip of wine, wanting food as well to settle the grumblings in her stomach. A platter with roast beef and boiled potatoes, along with a loaf of fresh-baked bread, appeared on the table. Plates and cutlery were provided. Magical food had no true protein or sustenance, and acted merely as filler to calm the rumblings, but it also served to bring them together as friends as they shared the meal. Kull showed no manners; he seized a chunk of meat with his bare hands and gnawed on it before licking his fingers clean. Taliesin went to a table, washed her hands, dried them on a towel, and returned to join him. She used a knife to serve, and a fork to eat, while her barbarian cousin stuffed his face. No, he’s not a Draconus, she thought, not anymore.
“How did you find Ringerike?” Kull asked. Before she could answer, he mocked her. “Did you find it on your travels?”
“Yes.”
“What does it do, besides kill Wolfen and wound gods?”
“Many things I know about, and some I still don’t,” she admitted. “During the battle, Ragnal used his father’s sword, Bone, an evil weapon that turns those it kills into dust. Ringerike did not let it wound me, and it can fight on its own, if it wants. I also wear Prince Tarquin’s ring, which is why I have dragon armor.” She thought of the Moon Ring she gave to Jaelle, her gypsy friend, to save her life. Had she kept the ring, Taliesin would have control over the Hellirins. It was no wonder Zarnoc was upset with her for what she had done and for failing to heed his advice. She did not tell this to Kull; she had no doubt he would be disgusted and refuse to help anyone so foolish as to give away such a powerful item.
“Taliesin?” The Raven Sword gave a little whimper as Kull reached across the table and grabbed her by the wrist. Her fork fell from her hand and knocked over another bottle of ink that let out a shriek as it rolled across the table. His eyes dropped to the bottle. He released her arm to catch it and set it upright. “What are you really after, cousin? Do you mean to restore the Raven Clan to its former greatness? Or do you desire to sit on the Ebony Throne? I prefer honesty.”
“I am content to be the Raven Mistress.”
His eyes narrowed. “For some reason, I do not believe you.”
“I might have been content to rebuild Raven’s Nest, had Ragnal not brought me here tonight,” she said. “I have seen strange and wondrous things, Kull. I have traveled to the past, met King Korax and Queen Madera, and met a gold dragon on my journey. I see this surprises you; ‘Bonaparte’ is his name, and he is my friend and someone I can depend on. No, I do not want to be Queen of Caladonia. I just want to end this war and live with my clan, in peace.”
“That I can believe.” His blue eyes gleamed with curiosity. “You want to be the Raven Queen. I suspected as much when you spared the lives of the Red Cobras and the Wolf Clan. ‘A leader must be merciful as well as strong,’ you said. I am the third son of the King of Caladonia. I was never going to inherit the Ebony Throne; I knew this, and found a way to rule my own kingdom. You asked how I became the Talas. I proved myself in battle against the former Talas Kull and killed him with my bare hands. What you want, you take, Taliesin.”
Kull smiled as she placed a full bottle of wine on the table. He filled their glasses and continued to talk while he stuffed his mouth. “I am interested in you, cousin, so let me tell you about your family. Konall was the kindest. Dinadan is the smartest. Sertorius is cunning and only cares about himself. Almaric, however, is a killer; he strangled a servant at the age of seven. And do you know what our father did? He gave Almaric a horse. When Almaric took a girl against her will at the age of twelve, my father called him a man and presented him with new armor. Each time Almaric did something most people consider cruel and immoral, my father rewarded him with a gift. My father made Almaric what he is and ignored the rest of us. Dinadan spent his time at study, and Sertorius and I enjoyed the hunt. Poor Konall adored our aunt, Calista, who replaced our mother after she died. When Calista was sent to an abbey, Konall became a recluse. None of our family members are loving, caring people. Nor are they worth saving. I look at you, and it is not a Draconus I see. Nor a Lorian or Hellirin. Or a sha’tar.”
“What do you see?”
“You’re like me.” Standing, Kull stretched his back and belched. Grabbing his wine glass, he staggered to the chests filled with gold, reached in, and grabbed a handful of coins. Taliesin watched as he let each drop from his hand, and pocketed the last one. “We take what we want, Taliesin. We believe we know what is best for others and ourselves—this is the code we live by,” he said. “If we are to defeat Almaric and Sertorius, we must find a way to stop General Folando. The Hellirins do not think like us, for the undead view the world with less empathy, and what matters to us seems trivial to them. I have fought Folando and the Hellirins for years, and I have seen many of my people who fell in battle join them.”
Taliesin stood. “We are family, whether we want to be or not. But I’d also like to be friends. I value honesty above all else, and you are an honest man.”
“I’m as honest as any man who is paid for his services. Skardans only help when they are paid, and I am a Skardan.” Kull set aside his drink and grabbed the handle on one of the chests. “Friends do not require payment, Taliesin; their help should be given freely. If it is my friendship you want, then give me an item from that table. I will prevent the Hellirins from coming through the Stavehorn Mountains. I know the route they will take and will seal it with an avalanche, for the snow is thick this time of year.”
“They have magic users.”
“Winter is here, which means the weather is on my side.”
“Then take your gold and see that the pass is blocked.”
Kull released the handle of the trunk, strode to Taliesin, no longer acting tipsy, and seized hold of her arms. With a yank, he pulled her against his chest and his fingers slid around her throat, his breath foul in her face. She slammed into the table. “I want one of the items on that table. You’ll get it back when I return for the rest of my gold.” He reached around her and grabbed the nearest object; the bottle of ink. A female face, barely visible in the blue liquid, appeared within the bottle. The woman inside was afraid of Talas Kull and shrieked. “I’ll need the quill as well, Taliesin; they seem to be a pair.”
“You can’t use the ink, and you said one item,” Taliesin said, removing his hand. “But I didn’t say you could have it.” She removed the ink bottle from his fingers, placed it on the table, heard a whispered, ‘thank you,’ and pushed him back. He lifted an eyebrow. “I’m not the one who double-crosses people. You’ll be paid after you stop the Hellirins from entering Caladonia. Until then, you get nothing from me. Not one magical item. Not one gold coin. Prove you are more than blustery bravado and bad breath.”
He laughed. “I will hold back the Hellirins and give you time to visit King Frederick and assess the situation at Tantalon Castle. Meet Dinadan before you decide the fate of Caladonia; for all we know, he poisoned my father. Get rid of my brothers, take the throne, and I will consider you a friend. As a friend, I will not ask for gold or the ink bottle. You have my word
on it.”
“I will do what’s best for Caladonia.”
“Done!”
Kull spat into his palm and held it out. She did the same and shook hands. After he pulled his hand free, he produced an iron talisman from inside his armor. The round object was engraved with a mountain surrounded by tiny symbols etched into the border. It was an old charm, and protected Kull from magic.
“Where did you get the talisman?” she asked.
“I found it on my travels. It belonged to a being older than the gods of Mt. Helos, a god with no name. As long as I wear this talisman, no magic can harm me. It has protected me from the Hellirins many times.”
“You will need it.”
Taliesin walked her cousin to the door. Captain Anwar and two Skardan warriors waited outside. The Wolf Clan prisoners were bound in silver chains and stood in a line. Talas Kull bowed his head, laughing, and motioned his men to follow. They mounted shaggy mountain ponies and rode through the gate. The Red Cobras closed it and stood guard on the battlements.
“Where are the Skardans going?” Ramla asked.
“North on an errand. Bring in the prisoners, Captain.”
Within seconds, the Wolf Clan was led inside the tower. Ramla and five soldiers wearing Broa necklaces remained with Taliesin. She crossed her arms, approached the clan members, and searched their dirty, anxious faces, hoping to see a Raven among them, but saw only strangers. The people were frightened. They wore rags and appeared half-starved. Children clung to their mothers. The elderly, exhausted from battle, showed no signs of aggression.
“I am Taliesin, the Raven Mistress. Like you, I am Wolfen. Most of you tasted Raven flesh, when my clan was brought here. You did what Chief Lykus ordered. I do not blame you for what you did; I admire you for being loyal to your master.” Taliesin walked toward the fire and turned to face the crowd. “None of you will be harmed. Nor will I ask you to take the Raven service oath—I know who you serve.”
Queen of Magic Page 10