Beyond the Cherry Tree (11 page)

Suddenly everything in front of Josh’s eyes began to spin. This was too much for him to handle.
A king!
he thought.
I am a king!

As if Wilzorf could hear Josh’s thoughts, he grasped hold of the boy’s arm and led him over to the wall of water.

Josh gazed at his reflection in the water. Was this a king that stood before him?

Wilzorf disappeared for a moment then returned with a scabbard in his hands. He clasped it around Josh’s waist.

‘Now, my lord,’ said Wilzorf. ‘You are no longer the boy who set out to find his destiny. Look into the waters and see the king.’

Josh did as the wizard advised.

‘Take your wand in your hand and place it into the water. When you return it to your side your true quest will begin.’

Josh took the wand from his belt and holding it tight, he stretched his arm into the water.

The wand glistened in the water’s reflection. Then
without
any warning from the wizard, it cracked a bolt of fire, so bright that Josh had to cover his eyes. Suddenly the wand felt much heavier in Josh’s hand.

‘You may take your hand from the water,’ said Wilzorf.

Josh was no longer holding a wand. He had a sword in his hand. It bore the symbol of an arc, just like Danthenum’s, but it also had the symbol of an orb within the arc. It was truly the sword of the King of Habilon.

Bortwig’s words ran through Josh’s mind.

You will stand before the king and you will know him, and he will know you!

Wilzorf stood before Josh and spoke words of magic.

The king’s sword magically shrank and Josh held it with ease. It was now his sword. He truly felt like a king and not
like the scared boy who bravely followed an elf on a journey.

Josh returned the sword to his side and turned to Wilzorf.

‘What is my quest, Wilzorf? Can I see Zera?’

‘There is urgency, my lord,’ advised Wilzorf. ‘When the Kingdom of Habilon fell to Krudon, the evil sorcerer took the orb knowing that one day, if he could kill Borlamon’s heir, the tradition would be broken and he could wield its powers.’

‘But what about my sister, Wilzorf? Can I see her?’

‘Krudon has her. She recovered and remained in hiding. Recently, though, not long after her quest of bravery, the Witches of Zir captured her and took her to Krudon’s castle. I’m afraid she has once again fallen under the evil spell that Serula cast upon her when she was a baby. She is dying. That is why there is great urgency my lord.’

‘I have to save my sister!’ said Josh.

‘Yes! And you must answer your father’s dying wish and return your wizard to your side my lord.’

‘Then, we have to go
now
!’ Josh tightened his grip on his sword.

Wilzorf held his arm.

‘You cannot save her this time without the orb. I fear she will not recover as before.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘The only way she can be taken from the witches’ darkness
is if she is placed beneath the Arc of Habilon. The orb must be returned to its point of origin, where the two sides of the arc meet. Once this is done, the king’s wizard can use the orb’s sacred powers to save her.’

‘Where is the orb? Is it in the castle too?’

‘It is not, my lord. It is kept at the top of Mount Erzkrin under the guard of Krudon’s dragolytes. Krudon has earned much of his dark sorcery from Mount Erzkrin. If I know my brother, he would believe that the orb’s good powers would be weakened and eventually submit to darkness if kept there.’

‘Do you think its ability to be used for good is gone?’

Wilzorf’s eyes widened. ‘I believe not, my lord.’

‘Then that is where we must go.’

Eusyphia appeared behind Wilzorf from the darkness of the cave. She held a small sack of food and water.

She towered above the wizard.

‘I am too weak at this present time, my lord, to travel with you,’ said Wilzorf. ‘I’m afraid the dark shadow that Erzkrin has cast over the orb has taken much of my power from me. Eusyphia will take you to Erzkrin. Eat well on your journey and travel swiftly, my lord. Time is not with us.’

‘But what about Zera? I will need you to help her.’

‘When you speak the words, I will hear them. Then I will answer my king’s call. When the time comes, King Joshua, I will be there for you.’

Wilzorf placed his hand upon Josh’s shoulder as Eusyphia wrapped her wings around him.

‘It is good to be by your side again, my king. Use your sword well. It has your father’s spirit within. It will know you and it will not let you down.’

Then, they were gone.

Chapter 17

Krudon's Delight

S
he lay still and peacefully asleep, yet the witches' poison lurked deep beneath her flawless, pale skin, conjuring its rage to complete its master's evil wish: death! Her gown draped over the table, the ends gnawed away by hungry rats that dared not venture near the princess's cursed flesh.

His black hollow eyes gawked through the sliding door of her dungeon, cursing her beauty as it flickered in the fading candlelight. Krudon had made many visits to the princess's dungeon. It gave him pleasure to see Borlamon's daughter slowly slip into darkness.

Grukh, Krudon's head goblin, came clattering down the treacherous steps, thumping against a wall. Krudon slowly turned his eyes to find the creature checking his hands as he stood before his master.

‘What is so urgent that it brings you before me with such
foolish clattering?'

Grukh snorted and grunted, froth gathering at the mouth, dirty rotten teeth behind his devilish smirk.

‘A message, master. A message from the witches.'

The goblin held out his hands, revealing a dead bat. Krudon walked over and took the bat from Grukh.

‘You've killed it, you imbecile!' he snapped. Then, holding the bat up to his face, Krudon gazed into the dead creature's open eyes, and bellowed laughter from deep below.

‘Good news, master?' grunted Grukh, stamping his feet with excitement and content for his master's joy.

‘He is coming,' said Krudon.

‘He, master?'

‘Finally, Borlamon's heir has re-emerged from whatever pitiful stone he has been hiding under.'

‘We will kill him, master, and then the princess, and then all heirs to Borlamon will be gone and then you will be almighty!'

‘Yes!' delighted Krudon. ‘He will come powerless, a
weakened
pathetic army by his side. The orb is of no value to him, not since Wilzorf is dead. He will not be able to save the princess. Yes, he will come for his sibling, and when he does I will kill him and then the witches can kill the princess as they wish. Once both of Borlamon's heirs are dead, I will crush the Kingdom of Habilon. Twelve long years, Habilon
has had neither king nor wizard. They have been ruled by the weak and pathetic council. I could have crushed them if I wanted to, but no, I had to wait for Borlamon's first heir to return. Soon they will feel the wrath of Krudon.'

‘And then you will have the power of the orb, master,' grunted Grukh.

Krudon turned away from the goblin and returned his gaze to Zera.

‘Finally, I will wield the orb's magical powers and I will command the Zionn Army! Yes, Princess, daughter of
Borlamon
, heir of Theldor … finally, I will be almighty and, with the unstoppable fury of the Zionn Army and the powers of the orb, nothing can stop me from spreading my wrath to the world on the far side of the Great Tree!'

Grukh screeched a deafening cry of celebration.

‘Go now, Grukh. Gather your army. Prepare them to feast in victory upon the slaughtered carcasses of Joshua's army.' Without turning around, Krudon held out his hand, and the goblin took the bat from it.

Grukh bit the head off the bat, then nodded to his master and scurried away with a sense of urgency.

Chapter 18

High Council

B
ortwig and Danthenum stood patiently while Mad Argil twitched and scratched and occasionally rummaged through his long filthy beard. The elf was convinced that the white dragon would have eaten the dunger if the two were left alone outside.

The main hall of the palace was very long and very grand. Its walls were decorated with pictures of past kings, wizards, nobles and knights. The end of the hall opened up into a big circle, where Danthenum had knelt momentarily, right in front of statues of Borlamon and Trila.

Danthenum had knelt here many times before, but it was Bortwig and Mad Argil’s first time in the palace. The elf and the dunger seemed nervous. Bortwig too knelt, but the dunger just stood and stared.

‘Why are we waiting here?’ complained Mad Argil.

Danthenum scowled at the dunger. ‘Tame your tongue, filthy dunger. The council will summon us when they wish. Don’t speak when we are called in.’

Mad Argil grumbled a faint reply, then swiftly sealed his lips on catching a second scowl from Danthenum.

The knight spoke of what to expect once they were called in to see the council, ‘There will be three nobles – the one sitting in the centre will be the high noble. This is the one that you should address with the great news of the return of Borlamon’s heir, Bortwig, but not before kneeling before all three.’

‘I shall tell them to prepare for a great ceremony,’ smiled Bortwig. ‘Habilon will once again have a king!’

‘Not before the fury and evil of Krudon rage upon our kingdom,’ warned Danthenum. ‘Do not forget, there is great darkness to come before the light of peace can once again shine upon our people.’

Bortwig nodded in agreement with the knight, while once again the dunger grumbled with dissatisfaction of having to keep quiet.

Finally, a small, unremarkable door to the side of the main hall opened and a head peeped around, followed by a hand that waved at them, just a little, to capture their attention. They were ushered through the door and down a long
corridor
to an oval-shaped room.

The oval room was small. Bortwig had expected more, but Danthenum had told him that this room was once King Borlamon’s ‘Room of Thought’. It was where he would go alone to reflect on kings of the past and their great victories on the battle fields. In the centre of the room was a single chair, which sat empty beneath the domed rooftop. This is where Borlamon would sit, looking up toward the skies of Habilon. Opposite this chair sat two of the three high nobles of the high council.

Danthenum knelt before them, then nodded a greeting to a fellow knight; the knight was standing in shadow, yet Danthenum knew of his presence. It was to be expected. The High Council was always closely guarded even when there was no apparent threat. Bortwig ordered Mad Argil to stay in the background, well out of sight. Dungers were not a common sight in the palace. The elf then knelt beside Danthenum.

Isbius and Sirg remained still and silent, staring down at the knight and the tree elf. Danthenum knew not to address them. It was not time. The High Council were, at present, incomplete and would not enter any form of debate without the third of their order. Thericus finally entered the room. He slowly shuffled over to his chair, his long, silken gown trailing behind. He sat between Isbius and Sirg, his chair slightly further back and elevated.

‘What brings the council to the oval room in the darkest of the night?’ Thericus growled down to Danthenum.

Danthenum stood up, and then bowed his head three times, the last bow intended for Thericus.

‘My lord, I am accompanied by the tree elf—’

He was sharply interrupted by Sirg, ‘We can see that, knight. Answer the question.’

‘Yes, my lord, of course. We bring news, my lords. Great news that requires your urgent attention. He has returned, my lords,’ smiled the knight.

‘Joshua!’ said Isbius.

‘Yes, my lord! The prince has returned.’

Thericus looked right to Isbius and left to Sirg, then he looked long and hard down at Bortwig who had remained kneeling and silent before them.

‘Is this true, Bortwig, tree elf?’

Bortwig raised his head and stood up.

‘It is, Lord Thericus.’

‘Then, where is he?’

Bortwig and Danthenum spoke together; Danthenum nodded to Bortwig to continue.

‘He is with the wizard.’

Sirg began to laugh. Isbius instantly joined him, but
Thericus
did not laugh at the elf’s answer.

‘Wilzorf is dead,’ laughed Isbius. ‘How dare you disgrace
yourself with such foolishness.’

‘Quiet!’ shouted Thericus. ‘You’ve seen Wilzorf alive?’ asked Thericus, his brow rising in anticipation of Bortwig’s answer.

‘The wizard is alive, Lord Thericus. He is alive and with the prince,’ insisted Bortwig.

Thericus continued his questions. ‘If the wizard Wilzorf is alive, as you say, then where is he? And, more to the point, where has he been for the past twelve years?’

Bortwig did not like or have any respect for Thericus’ interrogations and disbeliefs. He was here to bring great news to the council: Borlamon’s heir had returned and with him, so too had hope. The elf stepped forward. The knight in shadow drew his sword, but Thericus raised his hand in disapproval.

‘I am not here to entertain Lord Isbius or Lord Sirg. I bring you great news, and you laugh at me!’

‘Careful, elf,’ frowned Sirg.

Bortwig kept his eyes fixed upon Thericus.

‘Twelve long years you have sat in your chairs while Habilon trembled with fear of Krudon and his evils. If Borlamon had not fallen, there would be no High Council. The heir to the throne has returned, Lord Thericus, and you will give up your noble chair and kneel before your king with humility and gratitude for his return.’

‘How dare you!’ raged Sirg. ‘We will have your tongue cut out.’

‘Enough, Sirg!’ ordered Thericus. ‘The council does not need or want Norlif as an enemy.’

Thericus knew that if Bortwig was telling the truth, and Borlamon’s heir had returned and the wizard Wilzorf was alive, then he had better show some form of allegiance to his king if he was to remain a noble.

‘Do not judge the High Council, tree elf, with such ease, for you have been tucked away in your cosy, safe room in the Great Tree while we have at least tried to pick up the pieces after Krudon took our king and queen from us.’

Bortwig eased his stance. He would at least listen to Thericus’ argument.

‘The wizard Wilzorf took the king’s sword before he
disappeared
. How are we to trust him, elf? How can we be sure that Wilzorf has not joined forces with his brother?’

Rage came over Bortwig. ‘Do not speak of Wilzorf with such contempt, Lord Thericus. He is good and good only!’

‘Then why did he take Borlamon’s sword?’ snarled Sirg.

‘The wizard Wilzorf magically changed the sword’s appearance and gave it to the general to take beyond the Great Tree and hide, along with Joshua, until the he came of age. The sword is safe and has by now been returned to where it belongs – the hand of our new king.’

‘Even if this is true, you must at least understand that it is wise – expected – of the council to doubt the existence of the wizard Wilzorf. If he did not fall at the hand of his evil brother’s army, in the great battle, twelve years past, then why has he not returned?’

Bortwig thought first before he would answer.

Danthenum spoke up. ‘My lord, I too believed that the wizard was dead, but is it not possible that maybe he remained in hiding until Joshua returned to us? If only to let Krudon believe that he was dead all of these years? If so my lord, would this not prove to the council and the people of Habilon that the wizard Wilzorf is devoted to our king?’

Bortwig nodded to Danthenum with a hint of
gratification
. Thericus stewed over Danthenum’s words, then he turned to Isbius and Sirg, gesturing them closer for quiet discussion, before returning his eyes to the knight and the elf.

‘What do you advise, elf?’ asked Thericus.

‘Your king needs the full support of the council,’ answered Bortwig. ‘I have no doubt that he will go to Mount Valdosyr to save the princess. But, first, I’m sure he will try and retrieve the orb from the clutches of Krudon’s dragolytes on Mount Erzkrin.’

‘But our prince is what, thirteen? He is to do all of this and with no upbringing in the ways of Habilon. How is this possible? I worry for his life as I worry for the life of our
princess, not long taken from us!’ said Thericus.

‘I have travelled with our prince, my lord and watched him carefully. He has great bravery – Borlamon’s blood rushes through his body, just as it does in Zera,’ answered Bortwig with passion.

‘I believe our king will meet all adversary with all of Habilon’s good and strength in every beat of his brave heart. Will you believe, my lord? This I put to you. Will you believe in your king – our king, the king of all that is good in Habilon?’

Thericus thought again in silence, then whispered to Isbius on his right and the same to Sirg on his left. After more thought, he gestured a hand signal toward the knight.

The knight stepped out of the shadows and stood beside Danthenum.

‘You will gather an army and travel to Mount Valdosyr by horse,’ instructed Thericus. ‘If the elf is right, then your king will need you.’

‘Yes, my lord,’ nodded the knight before looking toward Danthenum. ‘Will you join us?’

Danthenum looked down at Bortwig before answering.

‘I will search for him with the elf. His journey to Erzkrin will meet him with many dangers. Even with the wizard by his side, the dragolytes will be a force too great to defeat, I fear.’

Bortwig agreed.

Then, before all agreed it, a howl came from the darkness near the back of the room.

Mad Argil!

‘I will march to Valdosyr. No horse required. Just point me in the right direction and I will destroy anything that gets in my way.’

‘Who is that?’ asked Thericus.

Mad Argil stepped into light, smiling with one hand raised and the other scratching his rear end. Before Thericus had an opportunity to voice his contempt, Bortwig and Danthenum bowed farewell and ushered the dunger out the door.

Thericus turned his attention to the knight.

‘Gather your army with no delay. How long before you reach Valdosyr?’

‘We should reach the foot of the mountain tomorrow at high sun, my lord. The climb will depend on what evil greets us when we get there.’

‘On behalf of the people and our absent king, travel with speed and honour.’

The orders of the High Council rose from their seats and watched as he left the room; an army had to be assembled and horses saddled for the journey to Valdosyr.