Black Kerthon's Doom (28 page)

"But we know what will happen if you do nothing," said Daura.

Macelan turned and looked at her, surprised by her words. He had not expected her to side with Gareth. He thought he could slide out of the way of the responsibility they were thrusting on him.

"Gareth, you try it. You are supposed to have the talent."

"No!" he shouted. The vehemence took Macelan aback. Why did the thought of trying sorcery bother Gareth? Didn't he want to overthrow the High King? Surely, such power would do it for him.

"I cannot," said Gareth, his eyes wild. "You have the natural ability. Heredity holds no sway in sorcery. None! I was a statesman and now am a fighter. I could no more work sorcery than a pig could fly. I cannot!"

"Don't you realize I don't know how the sorcery works or anything about it? I could just as easy kill us all as defeat Kerthon. Perhaps that is what he trying to make me do. Kill us all."

"Find out how to use it or we all die," said Gareth. "You are our only hope for victory through sorcery." He walked back out to the wall. Chraset watched Macelan closely and then he too, disappeared into the dim reaches of the castle. Macelan and Daura were alone to find Macelan's power.

"Where do I start?" he sighed.

"What happened to you at the tower? How did you get there?"

"I don't remember. Something made me black out after the Stalkers disappeared and then I heard something floating just beyond my reach. It was his voice and then it was inside my head. I understood what was happening but I don't know how it happened."

"What do you mean?" Daura tried to make him think about the physical changes.

"At first his voice was in the wind, all around me. Then it crept next to my ear and then he was inside my head."

"And what happened when he took control of Kaell?"

"I felt him draining out from me."

"Was it sudden?"

"No, slow and fading. Like pouring wet sand back to the beach. Bit by bit it oozes out of your pail. I thought I was losing part of myself as well, so I fought against it."

"How did you know when it ended?" asked Daura.

"I didn't know. He spoke to me and told me to leave him."

"Perhaps since you were the one he chose to take him from the tower he can't fully withdraw his power from you. Or at least he chose not to. Maybe it gives him some hold on you."

"That's an idea, however not reassuring. How does it help? We know the power is there. I need to know how to use it."

"Maybe if you had a focus and tried to remember what it felt like when he was inside your head."

"A focus?"

"Something to concentrate on. A talisman of some kind. I've heard stories of such things."

"I know! Wait here." Macelan dashed off and rummaged through his belongings until he found the stone he had recovered from the palace.

"What is it?" She looked at the smooth ebony surface and thought for a moment that she saw faces deep within the murky blackness.

"I found it after Kerthon took control of Kaell. He must have dropped it and did not know it. It was very hot at the time but now it has cooled."

He stared at the stone and went deep into his mind to find the memories of Kerthon's presence, the nuances of power that remained within him. He felt the stone warm up and he knew he was on the right track. Suddenly, the power flared up all around him but it had no purpose, no release. The stone became hot and he noticed it and broke his concentration. The power vanished.

He tried again. He concentrated on the stone, the power swelled up, the stone burned his fingers, and he dropped it. The power was gone.

He set the stone on a table and concentrated on its ebony finished. Again, the power swirled around him but he did not know exactly what caused it or the feeling that it was at hand. This time it vanished without a break in his concentration.

"Well, it's there, but I don't think I can control it." He sat down and covered his face with his hands. "I've failed."

"No, you haven't. Perhaps all we need is a diversion to allow us an avenue of escape. It is obvious you can raise the power. That might give Kerthon pause and may mean the difference between life and death."

Macelan hugged Daura and kissed her. She did not recognize the eyes with which he looked at her. He did not notice her concern and ran out to find Gareth.

Prosty did not know how close he could approach to the camp. He had put the sentry asleep with a small spell that he hoped had been small enough not to attract Kerthon's attention. But not having any clues as to the potential of the Sorcerer's power he found himself making decisions blindly. Well, he thought, perhaps that is the best way. Too much thinking may hurt as much as no thinking. Lady Luck is my guide, I shall not want. Ha! I want plenty and the witch shall help me unlock it. But I must find her and the only way to get to the north is through the army.

He circled to the rear of the camp and found what he was looking for. There was a tent with servants or prisoners or some such occupant. Prosty wanted to bribe them into helping him obtain something belonging to Kerthon. It would be risky and he might only have one chance but the small ebony stone the Sorcerer carried was a major focus for his power. If Prosty could recover that stone, he could unlock the Book of Power.

He crept to the rear of the tent and pulled up the edge and suddenly strong hands pulled him inside. They looked at him and the blond woman came forward. Then her expression changed from wonder to anger.

"Prosty!" said Mira. "You must be Prosty. What are you doing here?"

"Ah, Mira, Queen of the Rebels, or I am a badger. You are much more attractive than I realized." He did not say what he thought and Neheva looked at him and raised her eyebrow.

"I am now assisting Gareth. I just came from the castle where he and several others are camped." His eyes darted around the tent, but there was nothing to help him.

"How did you get past the soldiers?"

"I do have some skill," he sniffed.

"What is Gareth doing?" asked Mira, still holding her 'ready' position.

"Hoping to find a way out of their predicament. Gareth still refuses to learn how to use his power and some fellow named Macelan also has sorcery at his command. Well, not really at his command, but he does have it."

"Macelan's alive?" cried Serada. Mira clamped her hand over his mouth. They all listen for the guards but no one came in response to Serada's outburst.

"Very much so. Although he has stories to tell you which I believe he had rather not experienced."

"Don't we all?" asked Serada to no one in particular. "He's alive!" Mira squeezed his hand.

"You are prisoners? Is it really Kerthon who drives this army?"

"Yes. And you are foolish to try to steal his stone," said Neheva.

Prosty looked at the witch for the first time.

"How did you know?" His eyes widened.

"You are as easy to read as these mortals. Perhaps more so. Ambitious people carry their thoughts in their eyes."

"I don't follow."

"I didn't expect you too. You are a wizard, a student of magic who seeks sorcery. The two are not fully compatible, remember that. There is much risk in sorcery. Kerthon still suffers from his foolishness and it will never end.

"My magic is of the earth and I draw strength from the earth. The magic will never harm me because I am also of the earth. On the other hand, sorcery is not of the earth, it belongs to the demons and people of the earth will perish in the world of demons."

"I will take my chances." He spoke sharply but was secretly rejoicing in his good fortune. She was the witch.

"As Kerthon once said. In fact, there are many similarities between the two of you. Pity."

"Are you really that old?" asked Prosty, hoping to strike at her vanity.

"I don't think of it as being old, but yes, my memory reaches back far before Kerthon's time. My power is of the earth, not of the demons from which sorcery draws its source."

"That's what Macelan hinted at. I didn't think he knew what he was talking about."

"If he is really free from the Sorcerer, then there are many things he could tell you. If any of Kerthon's power remains, he is in danger of being trapped by the demons."

"He does have power. He has used it on two occasions."

Neheva turned her head away.

"Then there are two more to join Kerthon in his slavery. Two more souls I cannot help. My power is earthbound and limited while the demons scour the universe and all its dimensions for power to destroy the earth. Kerthon very nearly destroyed me. Three of the same surely will. I will fail. I cannot withstand three sorcerers."

"What do you mean?" asked Serada. "Prosty and Macelan are not like Kerthon. I saw him."

"They soon will be. Do you not realize what it is that Gareth fears? Let us not speak of it. What do you want wizard? You were surprised to find us here so it wasn't a rescue mission which brought you."

"As you said, it is the stone I am after. I was hoping to find some servants whom I could bribe into stealing it."

"And if they were caught?"

"I would be free to try again."

"Very noble," said Neheva.

"As you said, I am no match for Kerthon so I will not risk myself needlessly."

"And you do not care about those you use?" asked Mira.

"My quest is more important."

"Do you think you can do what Kerthon could not?" said Neheva. "He wasn't always evil; it was the influence of the demons. They gave him more and more power in trade for a bit of his soul. A little here and there and then finally; they owned him."

"You do not scare me with your stories, witch. I know my limitations and I shall not fall for such a bargain."

"Bargain is not the correct word for dealings with demons. They tell you what you can have and what it will cost you. There is no bargaining. If you want what they have, you will pay their price. Simple. Ask Kerthon how simple it is."

"Can you tell me how to use his stone?"

She looked at him and shook her head.

"If that knowledge had come to me I certainly would not let any fool have it. Especially one who desires it as you do."

"I will have it from you."

"You must rescue me from Kerthon, first. And that is beyond your ability."

He opened his mouth to speak, and then decided against it. There would be another time.

Prosty started to leave but then there was a noise outside. Scithers had come to talk to Neheva. There was no place to hide, the tent flap was flung back, and Scithers entered. He stared at Prosty and then the crackle of sorcery filled the air. Prosty had no chance. He was frozen in ice and his eyes were wide with terror.

"So, you are not without allies, even in this forgotten place."

"Perhaps," replied Neheva.

"I believe he must have come from the castle, wouldn't you say?"

"I wouldn't know."

"Perhaps one of your companions would know."

Scithers turned to Serada and grabbed his arm. Pain coursed up into Serada's chest. He could not breathe and the tighter Scithers grip the more intense the strain on Serada's heart until he thought it would burst.

"What do you say?" asked Scithers.

"The castle!"

"Yes?"

"He came from the castle!"

"Good. Who is he?"

Serada tried to hold back but the pain increased and he thought his eyeballs would pop.

"Prosty! Wizard!"

Scithers released him and Serada fell to the ground panting. Mira cradled his head as he caught his breath.

"So? The last wizard has chosen to become involved in this. Neheva did you know he was the last wizard? The very last?"

"No. What do you mean?"

"Wizardry is dead. Sorcery is supreme. That is why he came here. To steal the secrets of sorcery. We shall show the fool all he cares to know." He grinned.

Scithers stuck his head out of the tent and called to a couple soldiers to remove the frozen wizard. After they had done so, he turned to the prisoners.

"The reason I came here was to tell you we march on the castle in the early hours before dawn. You three shall stand at the front with Lord Kerthon and witness the surrender and death of your friends. It shall not be a pleasant sight."

Scithers left them and Neheva was silent. Serada had almost passed into sleep and the sun had just begun to set.

"It will not be easy, but we shall attempt tonight."

"But we'll be under their nose," said Mira.

"No other choice. We can reach the castle for temporary shelter. I know a secret way into the castle. Pray to your god that Kerthon does not know I know of it or else we shall never see daylight again."

Brice stood lookout as the sky darkened and night surrounded them. The moon had risen over the horizon and its light revealed several figures approaching the wall. One stepped ahead of the others.

"Gareth! I know you can hear me! Answer me!" The figure waited and then hailed the castle again. Brice had climbed down off the wall.

Horeth stood at the head of a party of six soldiers fifty yards from the wall of the castle. They were relaxed, their weapons were not drawn. Horeth did not fear attack from his cousin. Gareth's sense of honor was too strong and Horeth knew it. They could see no movement from the castle and silence greeted their ears.

"I am here to give you a chance to die like a man by my blade rather than at the hand of the Sorcerer. Come! We have until the moon is high before Kerthon attacks."

After his voice died away, there was silence.

Finally, the gate opened and Gareth walked onto the field. He had a broadsword and a shield and Brice and Chraset were on either side of him. The gate closed behind them.

Gareth walked toward his cousin. Except for the wildness of Gareth's hair and beard, the two were very similar in size and movement. Horeth bore the disciplined posture of a soldier and his hair and beard were close-cropped. As he drew close Horeth, could see the lines on Gareth's face. There were many and they had deepened since Horeth had last seen him. Gareth was slowly dying and his revolution was already dead.