Black Kerthon's Doom (29 page)

"I am here," said Gareth. "One on one?"

"Yes. My men will not interfere. But we must hurry. Scithers did not like this idea and may find a way to convince the Sorcerer to crush you now."

"I expected such treachery. What will you do in that case?"

"I will survive, Gareth, I will survive."

"Once a coward, ever one."

Horeth drew his sword and advanced. Gareth circled away from Horeth's men and Horeth held his ground. Neither one would be maneuvered to stand with their back to the other's companions.

Horeth struck first but Gareth stepped aside and cracked his blade across Horeth's shield. Horeth stumbled but swung at Gareth's leg to keep him from pressing his advantage. The rebel skipped out of the way and Horeth regained his footing and advanced. Gareth did not back off and feinted and drove his sword into the thigh of Horeth who dropped to one knee. Gareth pressed his advantage but out of the handle of Horeth's sword came a short blade that he jabbed into Gareth's wrist and disarmed him. Gareth jumped away as the broadsword whistled in the air. His wrist was bleeding badly and he could not reach his sword. Horeth leaned on his sword to regain his feet but he was unsteady. Gareth muttered loudly enough for Horeth to hear, his cheeks reddening at the words. Horeth's anger pulsed through him. Gareth came nearer and Horeth raised his sword but Gareth dodged behind him and cracked Horeth's skull with his shield. Horeth fell heavily and Gareth retrieved his sword, switching his shield to his injured arm. He looked up to see where Horeth's men were and he saw behind them the dark shapes of the army rapidly approaching. Brice called out in warning even as Gareth turned to flee and the trio ran back to the gate that cracked open for them as they arrived. Gareth barked orders as he ran through the opening. Macelan cranked the gate shut.

Gareth looked at the young man.

"It's up to you." He spat the words out and moved away to have his wound tended. Macelan climbed up to the wall.

The army had formed a ring around the castle and Kerthon stood in the middle. Horeth was facing him. Macelan could barely make out the words.

"You failed to kill your cousin," said Scithers. His voice was low and rumbled like a throat devoid of moisture. "You broke your promise."

"The army rushed in and caused the confusion which led to his escape."

"Liar!" cried Scithers. He stood behind Kerthon. "The army was sent because you failed at your task. You must pay for your betrayal."

"Betrayal?!" Horeth threw his sword and it bit deep into Scithers' shoulder. He limped forward to finish off Scithers but he was stopped by a cold hand that burned where it touched. He was turned slowly to face the Sorcerer.

"You will die. Now."

The fiery eyes flared and burned into Horeth's head. He saw the horror and felt the pain of the Sorcerer's existence and saw the face of the Sorcerer's Master. And he screamed and screamed until silence overtook him and his body crumbled in ash.

Macelan had seen the power of the Sorcerer and he knew he could not win a direct confrontation. He had no power to match the Sorcerer and doubted that he could use what power he did have to destroy anyone. Yet, how did he kill Parean? Rage. His anger brought it on. But how to work up such emotion from a distance? And how to direct the power?

One strange thing he did notice was the stone in his pocket had burned him when Kerthon killed Horeth. He first thought that he had called forth his power unknowingly but the stone had not felt quite this hot before. And the burns it gave him before were slight and faded quickly. This new sensation was very painful and it burned deep and did not fade but lingered until, with an effort, he cleared his mind. He quickly found Daura, who was tending Gareth and told her of his discovery.

"It sounds to me like your stone is affected by any sorcery which is close by."

"That or it indicates my power has the same source."

"Do you really think so?" asked Daura.

"I think you are thinking about that too much," said Gareth. "It will affect your ability."

"I don't want to harm anyone. I don't want to be a puppet for Kerthon."

"Or are you just a coward?"

"Gareth!" cried Daura.

"Let him talk," said Macelan.

"Yes, let me talk. That is all I can do anyway. The rebellion is finished and we soon shall be dead. But at least we shall not die as cowards. That is what you have been running from isn't it? Are you a coward, Macelan? Will you run again?"

Macelan stomped out into the courtyard. His face was flushed with anger. Brice waved him over.

"Looks like Kerthon is up to something. He has started to chant and move his arms. I see a shape materializing in front of him."

"Is it human?" asked Macelan, who expected the worst.

"Can't tell." He wanted to say more but he felt the tremor next to him and he saw Macelan holding the stone in front of him and it glowed. Macelan's face was sweating from the pain and Macelan pulled his own power through the stone as well as the spell Kerthon performed. He felt a slow burning, a pain deep within him and for a moment he was aware of the presence of someone else within his mind. The pain cleared his thoughts. Brice saw the steam rising from Macelan's hand and smelled the burning flesh.

Suddenly, there was a thunderclap and the foremost soldiers were struck down. Kerthon stood his ground, both he and the shape at his side looked up to the battlements, and Macelan felt their malevolent eyes. He stepped back from the edge as he watched the dark shape salute him and disappear.

"Here's our chance," cried Neheva as their guards scattered from the unexpected sorcery. They ducked behind a tent and bumped into soldiers who took no notice of them. Scithers did not look for them and they kept still. Then Neheva looked at Kerthon one last time, turned, and ran. They wound a path out of the camp and hid behind the last tent to the west. No one had seen them. Most of the soldiers had run toward the wall to see what would develop from Macelan's sorcery. Perhaps they wanted to see a duel arcane.

She led them away from the castle until they were clear of the scouts and then they made their way back towards the castle.

"Keep quiet. We do not have to move too fast. They have not missed us yet. If my guess is right that was your friend Macelan who created that excitement."

"Macelan?" asked Serada. "You really think so?"

"Who else? Prosty is a captive and Gareth will not use any such power. Macelan it must be. We must reach Gareth and convince him to try or we shall all rue his denial of his heritage."

"How are we going to reach the castle?" asked Mira. "It looks like Kerthon is regrouping his troops."

"The front gate is the only way we have to get in. The other gate is too far away and we would have to pass the front gate anyway."

"I thought you knew of a way to get out of the castle."

"Out, yes, but not in."

"Can't you change us into something so we can slip by Kerthon?"

"He'd sense me in a moment and we'd be lost for sure."

They reached the far side of the castle wall but time had begun to slip away. The moon was at its zenith and Kerthon had his men in control again.

The Sorcerer raised a hailstorm and sent his soldiers to the wall. The sky darkened quickly and immediately the wind and hail began to dance off the ancient castle. Macelan did not cover his head and the burning stone confirmed his theory of displaying any type of sorcery in use. The soldiers were almost to the wall when Macelan pulled the ground up from under them and dropped them into a flaming river and buried them with the earth he had raised.

Macelan could not believe what he had done. He did not remember thinking about it; it just happened. He dropped the stone and it rolled off the platform to the courtyard. He had just killed many men and he did not know how. Even if he saved his companions by using his power, he would surely lose himself. Would the price be sufficient? He did not know because he could not foresee what he would become and if he would endanger his friends after saving them. He knew now what Gareth feared and why he denied his potential.

He felt the power pulse through him and he tried to keep it down but he was unsure how. It seemed to have a mind of its own. The wind of Kerthon glided up to the battlements and Macelan heard the seductive voices calling to him to join their Master to secure their victory. He shook his head and tried to shake the sounds out of his ears but he could not. He opened his eyes to see the second wave of Kerthon's army had scaled the walls. He watched them crawl over the battlements like ants, scurrying, and swords at ready. Someone shouted and he saw soldiers running at him. He was startled into action. He ran down the steps to reclaim the stone and followed the fleeing figures of Brice and Daura into the corridors of the castle.

He slammed the door and threw the lock. Daura waited a moment for him.

"Too much. I couldn't stop them all."

She nodded and reached for his hand. They ran off in pursuit of their companions.

Gareth and Chraset searched the room where Macelan had said Prosty searched. It appeared to have been a library.

"Prosty sure made a mess of things," said Chraset. "Do you know what you're looking for?"

"I think so."

"It's not the same thing Prosty found is it?"

"No," said Gareth. "Prosty needed the Book of Power. In it, the spells are laid out. I do not need it. I need an emerald ring set in a silver band."

"Is it powerful?"

"In a way. It wards against demons and allows the user to practice sorcery with little risk."

"Would it work against Kerthon?" asked Chraset, who was flipping through the pages of an ancient book, its pages yellow and crumbling as he turned them.

"Only if his demons wielded his power. It is no protection against Kerthon himself."

Chraset stayed by the books while Gareth searched the drawers and closets. They could hear the soldiers shouting. Gareth's search became more frantic.

"Come on, it must be here."

"This book is odd," said Chraset.

Suddenly, the door was thrown open and four soldiers swept in. Chraset's sword cut down the first one and the others held back and spread out. One shouted out the door for more assistance.

Chraset tossed the book back to Gareth who opened it and found a hidden space cut into the pages. Inside was a small tarnished ring. He put it in his pocket, grinning, a weight taken off him.

"This must be it!"

"Good. How do we depart from here?"

"We need a few moments. Let's dispose of these soldiers."

Gareth awkwardly drew his sword with his left hand, his right wrist still bleeding through his bandage and they charged the soldiers. Gareth engaged one, parried, thrust, danced back, and kicked the sword out of his opponent's hand. He could not fight with his left hand. The sword did not obey him as he was used to with his right hand. Chraset killed one and the other ran. But the sounds of reinforcements were closing fast.

"There's a back staircase to the lower levels. It is in that closet. They both sprinted to the closet and shut the door behind them. There was nothing with which to bar the door. Down, down they ran, the stone steps echoed their paces. They came to a landing with two exits.

"I don't remember which one to take."

"Let's separate. That way one of us must reach the others."

"Good." They shook hands. "If Brice is with them, they will try for one of the lower dungeons. There is a passage down to the sea. I had heard rumors about it when I was young and Neheva had confirmed them. But I did not foresee our dire circumstances and had neglected to tell anyone but Brice. If the boats remain, I cannot say. But that is the only chance for escape."

There was noise from above; the soldiers had found the stairs. Without another word, the men parted and each ran into a dark passage.

Serada watched the soldiers scale the wall and he knew they could not find a way in unseen. But Neheva smiled.

"Come, the air is thick with Kerthon's spells. He is so busy he will not notice my poor magic. She began to shimmer and the soft glow jumped to Mira and Serada. Neheva led them forward and past the sentries who did not seem to notice them. Serada started to ask what she had done but she put her finger to her lips and then urged them forward.

The courtyard was full of soldiers. Some were scaling the walls to reach upper story windows while others broke down the main door and entered that way. Neheva's goal was one of the lower levels and they had to wait until enough soldiers had moved on so they could enter the building without bumping into anyone.

The noise was loud inside with the soldiers shouting and running. Scithers tried to quiet them but the blood lust instilled by Kerthon was too strong in the soldiers and their noise only got louder. They did not heed Scithers, even with a touch of sorcery behind his words. Suddenly, Kerthon ceased his sorcery and Neheva dropped her spell immediately. Luck was with them because they were just inside a shadowy doorway and out of view from the foyer. Neheva smiled when she realized the stairway to the lower levels was on the same side that they were.

They waited until they were sure no one was coming in their direction and then they moved along the wall to the stairwell. There were no torches leading to the lower levels and the dust at the top of the stair was thick. Serada wondered how many generations had passed since anyone had walked down those stairs. He followed Mira close; he did not see well in darkness and he had always felt panic rising whenever he found himself in total darkness.

Neheva used a small stone and a spell to light the path before them. They followed the stairs down another level and came face to face with Brice.

"Brice!" cried Serada.

"What are you doing here?" asked Daura.

"We came to find you."

"Shh! We are all here except Gareth, and he will be coming soon," said Brice. "There is nowhere else as safe. These tunnels run forever. I can't tell you how happy I am that you are safe, Mira, and you Serada."