Journey of Shadows (The Palâdnith Chronicles Book 1)

by Sam J. Charlton

  “What is this game?” she eventually spoke. “Tell me of it and I will decide.”

  “The game of Melâth is as old as my people,” Bruin replied. “You play upon a great, circular board and each player is given four markers. The game ends once one of the players’ markers reaches the far side of the board.”

  “It sounds deceptively simple, and your cousin will have the advantage, for he knows the game and Lethian and Seth do not,” Edessa replied.

  Bruin shrugged. “I did not say the game was fair.”

  Quiet descended once more upon the hall, and when Edessa finally spoke her face was hard.

  “What if I choose none of these?”

  Bruin laughed at that and Thur smiled.

  “But you must. What will it be?”

  Watching Edessa, Seth held his breath and waited. The Esquill held his life in her hands.

  “Very well. Let them play – but your word is your word Malwagen. If Lethian bests your cousin and Seth, then he and I go free.”

  Bruin nodded and held up his chalice for yet another toast. “I gave my word, and I shall keep it.”

  Bruin led them over to a table at the far side of the banquet hall, where two Malwagen sat playing at an enormous circular board. Seth had never seen a game board like it; half a foot thick and made of gleaming black stone. Concentric rings had been inscribed onto its shiny surface, with lines radiating out from its core so that the board resembled a spider-web. The board was edged by a band of alternating green and red squares.

  “Lilith farne Melâth!” the Malwagen King commanded.

  The players promptly cleared the board and vacated their seats.

  A crowd gathered around the table as Thur, Lethian and Seth took their places. Nevis stood at Seth’s shoulder and Edessa at Lethian’s, while Bruin lounged on a chair at the end of the table. A few Malwagen females wearing silver sheath dresses that clung to their bodies like a second skin, brought clean goblets and jugs of wine to the table. One of the females refilled Bruin’s goblet before taking her place at the table next to Thur. The rest of the Malwagen seated themselves around the table. They waited for the game to begin. Their gazes fastened hungrily on Lethian and Seth.

  “Now, a little background,” Bruin announced. “This game is a favourite of my warriors. It has made many a long night pass more swiftly. In all my outposts, we cannot be without at least one Melâth board.”

  Seth sat still, his heart pounding. He glanced across at Lethian, and found the Esquill’s handsome face a cool, determined mask. Seth’s stomach twisted and a pain stabbed him in the side. He would wager that Lethian was a formidable player of games such as these, whereas Seth had never had the patience for them. Among his brothers, Val had been the only one to show any aptitude.

  The markers were simple, smooth-edged pieces of coloured glass. Thur handed Seth four blue markers and Lethian, four red. For himself, the Malwagen took four green markers and placed them on the squares closest to him; then, he motioned for Lethian and Seth to copy him. The men complied, pulling their chairs up close to the board.

  Once Lethian and Seth had placed their markers, Bruin spoke again.

  “Let me explain the game a little further. Thur has two six-sided dice. One of them has three shields and three skulls – the skulls tell you to advance, and the shields to retreat. The other die is numbered, one to six, representing the number of spaces you must move. You must move all your markers away from the edge, and cannot use the same one twice in a row.”

  “What if we throw a shield before we have moved away from the edge of the board?” Lethian asked, frowning. “We can’t move backwards at that stage.”

  “In that case, you simply forfeit a turn. You must throw the dice to decide who begins. A skull and the highest number starts.”

  Thur threw the dice first, and received a skull and a three. Bruin’s cousin had not spoken a word while the game had been set up. His silence unnerved Seth, who picked up the dice, his pulse beating in his throat, and threw them onto the table: a shield and a five. Lethian picked up the dice and threw them with a deft flick of the wrist: a skull and a five.

  Seth’s pulse began to race. He would be the last to throw; not an auspicious beginning.

  “So we merely have to move our markers towards the otherside?” Lethian asked.

  Bruin nodded.

  “And what’s the significance of the coloured edging. Should we aim our markers for the red squares, or the green ones?”

  “Either,” Bruin replied with a cryptic smile. “Red or green, you decide, but you must throw the exact number to finish the game.”

  Lethian frowned.

  “Can we take other players’ pieces as we go?”

  “Yes.”

  “It is a fancy form of draughts then?” Seth added, noting that his palms were now wet with sweat. The king nodded once more, signalling that they had come to the end of his explanation.

  “Let the game begin,” Bruin declared.

  Lethian threw the dice – receiving a skull and a four – and moved one of his markers forward. Thur followed, and threw a skull and a two. The Malwagen’s face was impassive as he reached out, without appearing to pause for thought, and moved one of his markers forward. Then it was Seth’s turn. He threw the dice. When he saw what he had thrown, he felt sick.

  A shield and a five.

  The Malwagen surrounding Seth hooted and jeered at him. Their heckling voices and leering faces strained Seth’s frayed nerves close to breaking point.

  “Courage Seth,” Nevis whispered in his ear, before gently squeezing his shoulder. “Don’t let them destroy your concentration.”

  “You forfeit this turn,” Bruin informed him. Seth sat back in his chair and waited for Lethian to take his turn. On the edge of panic, Seth gripped the edge of the table and forced his breathing to slow and deepen.

  And so the game of Melâth progressed.

  Lethian’s next throw gave him a skull and a six, while Seth threw another low score. By the time Lethian’s four markers were half-way across the board, Seth had lost two of his, and he trailed pitifully behind Thur. The Malwagen had lost one of his markers to Lethian as well.

  Seth could not bear to look at Lethian as they played, or to glance over at where Bruin silently watched. Throw after throw, the dice gave Seth nothing but ill fortune. Around him, wine flowed and taunting comments assaulted his ears and destroyed his train of thought. The watching Malwagen were enjoying the game immensely. The girl next to Thur rubbed herself up against the king’s cousin and stroked his arm sensuously as he played.

  After a while, numb terror descended upon Seth. He was losing spectacularly. Sweat poured down his face and neck. Eventually, he watched Lethian pick up a marker and move it onto the red band at the far edge of the board.

  The crowd hissed and chattered.

  The Esquill had won.

  Behind him, Seth heard Nevis exhale sharply.

  He had not just forfeited his own life, but hers as well.

  Only then did Seth look at Lethian’s face. The Esquill’s face was flushed and his eyes bright; the only sign of his triumph. Seth glanced over at Edessa and immediately wished he had not.

  She was grinning at him, triumphant. Edessa might have lost her prisoner, but she had also narrowly escaped a fate as Bruin’s queen. She and Lethian would walk free.

  Despair twisted its blade in Seth’s gut.

  “That’s it then,” Seth’s throat felt as if was filled with gravel. “I lose.”

  Bruin’s laughter, liquid and musical, filled the banquet hall. The other Malwagen, including Thur, also roared with laughter. The room wheeled around Seth. On the verge of fainting, he gripped the edge of the table to steady himself.

  “Seth?” Nevis stepped forward and placed a steadying hand on his shoulder once more. Seth had still not looked at her. He had failed Nevis. He could not bear to see her disappointment.

  “No,” Bruin replied through his laughter. “You have won.�
��

  The relief and smiles on Lethian and Edessa’s faces froze. Nevis gasped. Seth stared back at Bruin, his senses muddled with terror.

  “I said the game ended when a player reaches the far side of the board,” Bruin continued. “I did not say that player won.”

  Lethian stared at Bruin, his face sagging.

  “Such is the beauty of Melâth,” Bruin continued. “You must hope your progress across the board is a slow one – for he who reaches the other side first loses.”

  “Trickery!” Edessa turned on the king. “You did not explain the rules!”

  “Your friend had the chance to ask questions, perhaps he should have been more persistent,” Bruin replied, rising to his feet.

  “The game is forfeit. I demand they play again – and fairly this time!” Edessa shouted.

  Bruin shook his head.

  “I’m afraid it’s already too late for your friend Edessa. He has lost the game, and I cannot undo it.”

  Edessa stared at the Malwagen, not understanding.

  “Your friend asked me about the coloured squares at the edge of the board – and I gave him a choice. Green is life and red is death. The board has saved me the trouble.”

  “Deceiver,” Lethian croaked.

  Bruin shrugged. “You didn’t think those two, whose game we interrupted earlier, were playing for their lives did you? I’d have no warriors left if that were the case. When we play for fun, we head for the green. You, Lethian, decided upon red.”

  A terrible silence fell over the banquet hall, as all waited for the Malwagen King to continue.

  “In our tongue Melâth means stone,” Bruin inclined his head to one side and smiled, “and that is how he will die – watch!”

  All gazes in the hall turned to Lethian Fairwye.

  The sorcerer had turned a sickly shade, and sweat had beaded on his forehead. He stood up and staggered away from the table. His eyes were initially riveted upon Bruin but, moments later, the changes in his body made the Esquill tear his gaze away. He lifted a trembling hand and stared at it.

  “What’s happening to me?” his voice was high and thin. “My hand is burning!”

  “You are turning to stone,” the King of the Malwagen replied, “and it will hurt.”

  “Fiend!” Lethian snarled, not moving his gaze from his hand.

  Bruin merely smiled.

  Lethian’s hand started to turn grey.

  “Edessa!” his voice rose to a scream. “Help me!”

  Edessa moved forward but was swiftly caught by two Malwagen. Despite that Edessa was a tall, strong woman, they held her easily.

  Lethian’s eyes grew huge as he watched his hand freeze and drain of colour. The stone seeped over his wrist and under the sleeve of his shirt.

  “Keep still,” Bruin suggested. His tone was detached, but his eyes were keen. “It will hurt less.”

  Seth, who had been watching Lethian from across the table, was aghast at the scene unfolding before him. He got to his feet and followed Nevis towards Lethian. He was unsure as to how they could help the sorcerer, but he could not stand there gaping while he died. Nevis was digging in a pouch that she wore strapped to the belt around her waist.

  Nevis and Seth had nearly reached Lethian when Thur blocked their path. The Malwagen shoved them back against the wall.

  “No nearer,” he growled.

  “I may be able to help him!” Nevis shouted. “Let me pass!”

  Seth turned to Bruin. “Why are you doing this?”

  “Because I can,” Bruin replied. “In this domain I have the power over life and death, and now it pleases me that this man dies. What do you care? Just moments ago, he and Edessa were willing to sacrifice your lives for theirs.”

  “Please!” Lethian sobbed, gripping his petrified arm. “I beg you. Don’t let this take me.”

  “Release him!” Edessa screamed at Bruin, her face wild.

  Bruin ignored her; his attention now fully upon Lethian.

  The Esquill was now frozen to the spot, his arms outstretched in supplication. Agony twisted his handsome face. The grey was now creeping up his neck towards his head. As it did so, Lethian gave one last shuddering scream.

  Then the stone took him completely.

  The transformation was complete. Lethian stood, a statue of cold, dead stone; his cry still echoing within the banquet hall.

  Horrified by what he had just witnessed, Seth glanced at Nevis and saw tears trickling down her face. The Sister stared at the Malwagen King, her eyes burning. Edessa, still held fast by two Malwagen, was crying. Gone was the proud sorceress who would not be commanded by anyone; her body shook from the force of her grief.

  Bruin turned to Seth and smiled.

  “Seth Falkyn. I had to make sure you didn’t lose the game. I couldn’t kill the last of the Sentorân, now could I?”

  Sentorân. The mention of the name made Seth’s pulse race.

  “What do you mean?” Seth’s voice, brittle and shaken, echoed in the hall. He felt Edessa’s gaze rest on him. The heat of her stare scorched his face. Of course, she knew – she had known the moment their eyes met in Larnoth Castle.

  “What now Malwagen?” Edessa’s voice shook, her gaze shifting to Bruin. “Shall we play another game of Melâth? Just you and me this time?”

  Bruin threw back his head and laughed. “And risk losing you? No, the time for games is over.”

  The king stepped up close to Edessa. Reaching out, he stroked her mane of auburn hair. She snarled and shrank away from him but he ignored her reaction.

  “You will be my queen. You will bear me flame-haired sons and remain at my side.”

  Edessa spat in his face. “I will slit your throat in your sleep! I will strangle any whelp I bear you!”

  “Then I will have to keep a watchful eye on you,” Bruin turned to Thur. “Take her back to my chambers while I escort our friends out of the valley.”

  Thur nodded and motioned for the two guards holding Edessa to follow him. They dragged her, struggling, across the hall, towing her past the audience of watching Malwagen towards the door.

  “Curse upon you!” Edessa screamed. She flung her hands forward, instinctively trying to use pale fire, the weapon of the Esquill, but her magic was still useless here.

  Enraged, Edessa’s gaze seized upon Seth. What he saw there made him involuntarily shrink back against the wall.

  “I curse you Seth Falkyn! When I’m finished here, I’ll come for you. There will be no place you’ll be able to hide!”

  Edessa's threats and screams echoed away down the hallway. When they finally faded Bruin smiled.

  “Such spirit. I will enjoy taming her.”

  Seth stared back at Bruin incredulously. He was shaken by Lethian's death, but not sorry Edessa would not be released with him.

  “Lead the way,” Bruin motioned towards the door, “and keep straight until I tell you otherwise.”

  Seth followed Nevis across the banquet hall. Ahead, Nevis passed the statue that had once been Lethian Fairwye and paused a moment. She looked upon the Esquill’s face, twisted from his final moments of agony before the stone had claimed him. Nevis turned to Bruin, addressing the Malwagen for the first time since their capture. Her face was cold, her eyes hard.

  “What will you do with him?”

  “All those I turn to stone, I use to decorate my palace,” Bruin replied. “You will see soon enough witch. Come!”

  They left the banquet hall and walked down the colonnaded hallway. Finally, Bruin called out to Nevis.

  “Turn left.”

  Seth followed Nevis around the corner and felt his pulse quicken. Ahead, was a narrower hallway than the one they had just travelled. Chandeliers of dripping candles illuminated a row of statues; all made of the same pitted grey stone. The statues stretched away to a distant vanishing point. The candlelight cast flickering shadows over the grotesque faces of those who had been turned to stone. There were a few men among the statues, although most were M
alwagen.

  Nevis’s face had gone rigid as she stared at the statues. “Did they all lose at Melâth?”

  “So many,” Seth whispered, “and your own people too. Why are there so many?”

  “I’ve been King of the Malwagen a long time,” Bruin replied, “and to answer your question, witch – yes, all here lost at Melâth.”

  Seth had no further questions. Some of the faces of the statues were so hideously twisted by agony that he and Nevis averted their gazes.

  On and on they walked, until their legs started to tire. Eventually, up-ahead, a heavy iron door appeared. Reaching it, Seth and Nevis stood aside so that Bruin could unlock the door. Instead of producing a key, the Malwagen simply whispered a word, and the door swung open, as if pushed by an invisible hand.

  A cool breeze caressed Seth’s face as he stepped through the threshold. A narrow rocky gorge lay before him; its sides were sheer rock that loomed overhead. Yet, the lower slopes of the gorge had been terraced. Against the bare rock, greenery flourished. Seth’s gaze traced row upon row of terraced gardens. He imagined that there must be many of these rocky Malwagen gardens, nestled amongst the Rock and Pillars.

  Seth had to strain his neck to see the sky. The day was drawing to a close. How long had Bruin held them captive? It had felt like weeks but in reality it could only have been a couple of days. There was a strange kind of magic within the walls of Bruin’s domain that made the passage of time meaningless. Now that Seth stepped back into the world he knew, he felt odd, disconnected.

  He turned to Bruin, who was watching him closely.

  “Is this where you leave us?” Seth asked.

  Bruin shook his head. “If I did, you would never leave these mountains. We are in the heart of the Rock and Pillars and you would break your necks trying to climb out of them. Come!”

  The Malwagen stretched his wings to their full extension. They were magnificent, making Bruin appear four times his usual height.

  “I will carry you both to freedom. Stand shoulder-to-shoulder.”

  Seth and Nevis wordlessly obeyed. The Malwagen stepped behind them and clasped Seth around the waist with his left arm, and Nevis with his right. Then, before either of them had time to protest, Bruin gave four rapid beats of his wings. Suddenly, they were airborne and swooping down the ravine.