Legend of Ecta Mastrino Box Set

by B J Hanlon

  Edin looked around the room and saw a set of brass keys hung from a peg in the wall. He snatched them and moved to the cell door. He found a small viewing hatch with a knob. Edin pulled it open and peered inside.

  It was dark and no light even attempted to breach that darkness. He stuck the key in the lock. The click was smooth and easy. He let it sit there for a moment. Was this a good idea? Edin swallowed and then yanked the heavy door open.

  A lump of rags sat in the corner with a white foot peeking out like a snake watching for prey. The skin was translucent and pulled taut around it.

  “Vicilu Dunbili” Edin whispered.

  History rarely recorded the names of family members of great men. If he was related, it was no wonder Edin had never heard the name.

  Had he been alive when the spell broke? If so, he probably died of thirst. The rank odor grew. A man left to die in darkness without hope. Left to the elements as had Edin’s companions. His friends. He thought of their bodies left to the beasts.

  This man, one he didn’t know, didn’t deserve that. “He should be buried,” Edin said to himself and took a step in.

  He coughed once and his eyes started to water. He covered his mouth for an instant then a fit over took him. Edin doubled over, coughing and trying to see through tear-filled eyes.

  It was blurry… but he thought he saw the foot twitch. Edin yelped and leapt backward, his back slamming against the inner cell wall.

  He wiped his eyes and tried to swallow the tickle in his throat.

  When he could see well enough, he spied a part of the man’s face was visible now. Scraggly gray stubble wilting like leaves in autumn. How’d he miss seeing that before. It was near the top of the rag pile.

  The eyes were closed and sunken into the skull. Thin white strands of hair hung from his head, but they were so few Edin saw the liver spots on the scalp beneath.

  He summoned his will. “I will bury you,” he said covering his mouth. A cough came and he turned away. He slipped out of the cell for a breath when he heard a cracking. It was like the creepy sound old Ulson made with his hands. It came from behind him.

  Gooseflesh leapt from his arms as he slowly spun the torch.

  In the corner of the cell stood Vicilu, staring at him with empty sockets for eyes. His jaw hung open as he raised a pair of boney hands.

  “Vicilu?” Edin asked.

  The man shuffled toward him, feet scraping the floor, bones cracking in a fierce melody. He… it was alive.

  “Who are you?” Edin said taking a step back. There was no answer, Edin backed away into the jailor’s room and hit the opposite wall with a surprising smack. He yelped.

  The thing kept coming. Edin dropped the keys and yanked his sword from his scabbard with his free hand. “Stay back, I’m warning you,” he shouted pointing the blade at it.

  The shuffling continued. The jaw opened and a piercing scream came from its mouth. Edin’s mind went blank for a moment. White covered his vision.

  The ringing continued in his ears when his vision returned only to see the thing an arm’s length away.

  Edin could only fall to the side. A finger brushed his bare forearm, barely a tickle but suddenly a searing pain flowed through his sword arm. It numb and the blade dropped.

  Edin screamed and tried to scramble away with some odd three-legged bear crawl. He reached the corner and turned. He saw the corpse, Vicilu, was facing the wall, his… no its shoulders and head hunched as if in deep conversation. It was unmoving. The torch burned on the floor near the center of the room. He couldn’t remember when he’d dropped it.

  Edin lifted himself to his feet, his breath rushing in and out. He pressed the spot where the thing had touched him. A searing pain reverberated through his body. He couldn’t stifle a holler. Wrong idea.

  The noise seemed to wake it. The corpse turned toward him in that slow, stiff, and bone-cracking movement. It felt more than creepy, it was unnatural. Its empty eyeholes staring at him.

  “Stop… who are you?” Edin said, his voice cracking.

  It began shuffling toward him again. Edin tried to summon the ethereal daggers, something to stop this thing, but he couldn’t concentrate, couldn’t focus. His chest was pounding and the searing pain was growing in his arm.

  Edin went for the shortsword with his weak hand and hurled it at the corpse. The blade somehow found its target. It caught the throat and stayed there lodged like an arrow.

  The thing stumbled back a few steps then advanced again.

  A translucent hand drifted up and pulled it out, dropping his it to the ground with a clatter.

  It wasn’t a man, this was a myth. A draugr. How it ended up this way, was a question for another time. He had to get out, but the monster was now blocking the path to the door and Edin was sure he wouldn’t survive another touch by it.

  Focus, Edin thought as the thing moved closer. Its mouth opened. Edin quickly tried covering his ears but only got one covered.

  The piercing sound echoed through the room but it wasn’t as powerful. There was a lower rumble, like a groaning stomach, that came from the hole in its throat.

  Edin dodged to the right. The numbness of his arm made his balance off and he stumbled again. With a lunge, Edin threw himself hard into a jail door with a thud. He’d feel that in the morning.

  Unlike last time, it turned with him and kept coming. Edin pushed along the walls and doors and kept moving. The thing hobbled, creaking and cracking like a fire…

  Fire. He looked a few feet to the right near the center of the room. The torch was burning like nothing happened and casting their shadows onto the jail walls.

  Somewhere in his past, he’d read a folktale… or was it a song. If so, he couldn’t remember the words, but he did remember the premise. Fire will wipe out the undead. Edin pushed off the wall to the center of the room and turned to see the draugr upon him. Edin whipped the flame into its guts.

  The flame caught and climbed, but the draugr kept coming. It took a few more steps and reached out toward Edin.

  Edin’s hand gripped something and he felt the sharp pain in his hand. He didn’t care. He picked it up and felt the weight of his own sword. The draugr dropped before him, a flaming hand reached out and groped for Edin with a fiendish but garbled shriek.

  Edin was too slow, the burning hand gripped at his trousers and instantly, they were alight. For a moment, he barely noticed as a searing pain burned his shin.

  The leg went numb and his mind focused. He saw the fire and slapped at it with its good hand. It wouldn’t go out.

  Panic rose, the flame was all enveloping and let off the smell of a burnt hair. The thought nearly made him sick, if not for the flaming pants. He unhooked his belt and tried to slip out of his trousers. With one hand and one working leg, it was difficult.

  With a final yank, he was able to throw them off.

  “Edin!” A faint but quavering call came from somewhere up the stairs. He tried to call back but didn’t have the voice. He gripped his sword in one hand and he stumbled toward the stairs.

  “Edin?” the voice called at the top of the stairs and he saw her. She was staring down at him for just a moment before she charged like the draugr. Her face was pale as if she’d seen… well what he’d just seen.

  Edin had to put out his good hand to steady himself on the door jam. “Draugr…” he croaked out. “Burns.”

  Arianne’s eyes dropped and her face went red. “You’re undertrousers,” she said.

  Edin glanced down and saw he’d thrown off his undertrousers with the burning pants. His face warmed but it was nothing compared to the pain.

  She laughed.

  “Please don’t…” Edin whispered as his injured leg gave way.

  After another moment, she helped him out of his tunic and tied it around his waist. He told her not too look, but like a child, he caught her glancing down.

  They headed up to the next level, the barracks and he collapsed on a cot. She disappeared before ret
urning with a pair of ales and what she called a Serenity Balm. Arianne applied it and slowly the feeling returned. He’d covered up with the blanket but she still let out a few chuckles.

  “It was cold down there, huh,” she said.

  Edin looked into her eyes, they were more green than gray at that moment. One day she hated him, the next she feared him… now she was mocking him. He’d never understand women. Never in his life had he been so confused. He didn’t respond. She handed him the frothy ale which he slurped down hungerly.

  “You’re very calm about a draugr in the keep.”

  “I’ve seen them, easily taken care of,” she shrugged.

  “Vicilu Dunbili... who is he or rather was he?”

  “Do not change the subject.” She laughed again and took a drink from her mug. As she pulled it away from her lips, “if my father saw you with me sans trousers, he’d have your head on the block.” She shoved her shoulder into his.

  “Do you tell all the boys that your father would take their heads?”

  She shrugged and grinned.

  “That’s twice now, next time I expect you to return the gesture.”

  “You mean you see me nude? Never. That draugr must’ve taken your sense as well as your undertrousers.” She laughed again nearly falling off the side of the cot.

  He felt a sharp pang of disappointment in his chest. She had no interest in him. Why would she? To her, he was nothing but a commoner mage.

  He had to change this topic. It hit him in a way he wouldn’t have guessed… or maybe he did. He remembered Kesona and Fali. The way Grent and Dephina had looked at each other. How he’d wanted that. “Vicilu? Who was he?”

  Arianne sighed. “A difficult noble. Brother of Restican, the Duke of Frestils. He was brash and a windbag. He and his brother were always trying to one up the other nobles… he made a deal with a baron north of Carrow for goods. The rumor was they cheated the baron so my father stepped in. The baron was a mage and Vicilu claimed favoritism and called for the overthrowing of my father. It was just a ploy. Why?”

  “He was the draugr.”

  “Hmmm…”

  “How does that happen?” Edin asked. “Was it like a disease that kills you and turns you into… that?”

  “I don’t think so… but if you start turning into one, I’ll take your head.”

  “Thanks for that.” Edin said. They sat quiet for a while and Edin’s arm and leg began to feel almost normal again… but there was no serenity like the balm offered.

  “I found some spells, magical traps, and some curses. Also, I found a spell to scry…” she paused as if waiting for his reply. “You use a plate or dish with water in it and see things.”

  “Like the relay?”

  She nodded. “But instead of your consciousness traveling, you stay alert and can watch the world as a bird would. A magus can move the vision as narrow or as wide as she wishes.”

  “And we can…” Edin started, though he didn’t really know what it was for.

  “Search the mountains. We can see if these mage hunters are actually coming.”

  He nodded. It sounded good.

  She rolled her eyes. “I’ll prepare the dish, you just rest. The Conflagration Touch of a draugr fades over time and I need you.” He smiled when she said this. “What?”

  “Just the serenity balm is working,” he said.

  She helped him up to the royal wing and she put him back in his room. “You weren’t that hurt, Master Edin,” Arianne said when he tried continuing toward hers.

  Edin changed and made his way back to the courtyard and stared at the large entrance door. Were Por Fen just beyond it? It was sunset, but the days were longer now. Summer was coming soon.

  He put an ear to the door and listened.

  There was nothing, maybe it was due to the thick stone, maybe no one was there. Edin wished it had a viewing hatch. Maybe he could open it for a moment. Just a moment.

  But what if someone was there, someone waiting? He was in no condition to use his sword and if there was a wan stone he’d be helpless.

  A test, he thought. If a wan stone was on the other side, its powers may be able to silence him. He didn’t feel anything different but he leaned against the door and summoned an ethereal ball.

  The night was fast approaching as the light lit the gray courtyard. He saw the cold torches and a large shadow was cast off the fountains making it look as if the bears were stalking him.

  He held out his hand as a cool wind pierced his tunic.

  Billowy clouds appeared to the east and Edin saw lightning strike from the clouds beyond a peak. A storm was coming. He could taste it. Not like when he could smell the storm, it was different. The electricity was there.

  Edin sighed and stared into the clouds wanting to see the power of lightning.

  As if listening to his thought, it did.

  Edin shook his head and moved closer. The bolt looked nearly identical to the one from a moment before.

  Edin rested his hands on the wall. One more time, he thought.

  The lightning struck out like the thrust of a swordsman, but this time it hit a peak. Bits of the mountain flew into the air like a volcano. He watched as the peak tilted, snow began to avalanche.

  His sucked in a breath. Did I do that? Edin wondered as his hand went to the fang. As he ran it over he felt the burn mark on his chest. He pulled open the collar of his tunic and looked at the scorch mark on his chest. It was fading. But there was something else. It didn’t look like a fire burn.

  The Citadel… when the Inquisitor was struck with what looked like a lightning blast. But Edin wasn’t there… not really.

  He remembered the electricity building around him. The sensation, the hairs standing on his non-existent neck. It was as if the power was in the room with him… In the air.

  ‘The world was made of tiny particles all around us.’ That was what Master Horston told him, powerful mages were able to see them and move them. Novice mages could throw them into existence. Masters could point and shoot. It was the difference between a warhammer and a rapier.

  The storm was still a long way off. He remembered controlling the water particles while overlooking Merik.

  What about the lightning? Horston once had him rub his hand ferociously over a fur rug. A static charge shocked him when he touched a knife. His old tutor told him that was in essence how lightning was made. Particles in the world moving at a blazing speed, or so goes the theory.

  Edin focused trying to picture the particles as he had, but this time instead of water, he tried to make them solid. He pictured them moving back and forth, quick, then too fast for him to see.

  The feeling grew around him, small cracks sounded like when he touched that knife. Edin opened his eyes as the door to the courtyard burst open. Tiny lightning bolts were erupting all around him.

  Arianne appeared, her eyes were wide. “Oh gods… Edin get in,” she yelled over the deafening noise.

  Then it all stopped. Edin blinked, saw her and then raised his eyes to the sky.

  “What was that? What’s happening?” Arianne yelled though she didn’t need to. “I’ve never seen anything like that.”

  Magi only have one affinity, rarely two and never three, Horston had said.

  Edin swallowed. “Just a storm… How’s the scrying coming?”

  Her eyes searched his and after a moment she said. “It’s ready. But… what happened?”

  “It just started appearing,” Edin said, “I thought it was one of the defenses…” he lied.

  “I don’t think so…” Her voice trailed off. “Maybe.”

  They stood in the doorway for a few moments both looking out at the sky and the coming storm. “Do you want to find out if we’re under attack?”

  Edin nodded. She led him to the room next to his. Only a single candle lit the room with a tiny flame. If not for her rebuke earlier, he may have made some comment about her trying to get him alone in the dark.

  On a cluttere
d desk sat a wide and shallow bowl. For some reason, he thought the desk should be clear of stuff. He said so to Arianne, but she just shrugged.

  Arianne poured in water from a large pitcher then stood over the bowl. “Put out the light,” she said before starting to speak words he didn’t understand.

  Edin put it out. It was awkward for a few moments, standing there in pitch darkness. He tried guessing the locations of everything.

  Then, a small luminous light appeared in front of them. Out of focus. As the thought hit him, shapes began to appear, some closer, others further. Edin moved next to Arianne, his hand bumped hers and he felt a small electric shock.

  She moved her hand.

  “That’s…”

  “Shh,” Arianne spat.

  A dark circle appeared in the center, then it expanded. Slowly, he realized they were looking at a pair of mountain peaks from very high up. They looked vaguely familiar. It was a bird’s view straight down.

  Edin suddenly felt lightheaded and queasy. It was far worse than on the cliffs. It was as if he were suspended and at any moment he’d be dropped to his death on the hard stone or jagged rocks. He wobbled and shut his eyes. He needed to not see what he was seeing.

  A soft hand gripped his and squeezed. “Are you okay?”

  He realized his hands were sweaty again but Edin kept his eyes closed, “I’ve never been good with heights…”

  “Think of it as a window. A strong one.”

  Edin’s stomach started to twist when he thought of the vison again… but he needed to see and he didn’t want her thinking of him as a coward.

  After taking a few breaths, he was unsure how many, Edin opened his eyes and looked down at the mountain. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Arianne smile at him.

  “It’s not that bad.”

  Edin just nodded, he couldn’t speak. If he did, he was going to throw up.

  She turned her attention back to the dish. As if being pulled away from the earth by a giant pully, the view leapt up, higher into the sky. To one side, the east he guessed, he saw the gray blanket of the clouds rolling in.

  Arianne squeezed harder.