Regret's Shadow (Sins of Earth Trilogy) (20 page)

“Assuming I could win past her, there is still this artifact to content with.  I’ve yet to see it, I don’t know what it does, and I’m not a mage anyhow.”

He tapped his fist again, more in a show of defeat than of frustration.

The Old Badger leaned back in his chair and blew out a sigh that ended in a coughing spell.  As if that were a cue, he reached into his tunic and produced a cigar and match.  Once he was puffing again, he assumed a pensive expression.

Duln took a seat once more, letting his friend think.  The old man did his best planning with a smoke and some quiet, so he often said, and Duln planned to let him have both.

“I’ll inform the b
aron.  Günter has no love for the baroness, I can tell you.  He’s been chafing since he’d heard of your arrival in his city.” 

He held up his hand to stall the immediate protestations from Duln, “Not to worry; I can convince him of his need for delicacy, but I cannot in good conscience deny him this information. 

“Be honest, Duln, you had to know this when you came to me.”

The warrior nodded, “I suppose I did.”

“Now,” the Badger said, adopting a sage expression, “I see the solution to your problem, although you won’t like it.”

Wielder looked like a man on a sinking ship seeking a lifeline.

“You’ve got to kill this monk.”

Colius barked at them to keep up.  He had been animated all morning, which was a change from his normal hangover.  The headmaster seemed in a hurry, although he was not forthcoming with their destination.

It was their third day in the city, and they’d already started trading talks with the members of the library
in Galloway.  This morning the headmaster had roused them from slumber to harry them out of the inn.

They made their way toward the sea.  Dramus began to worry, as they were seeing more and more
detritus and poor folk clogging the streets.  The pressing throng began to separate them slightly, and the sheltered monk fought the rising panic to keep up.  He looked back and saw the same feeling displayed on Erick’s face.

Still, Colius seemed determined, and he commanded a knowledge of the streets that astounded his students.  The
y wove through the avenues, steadily bringing them into a district near the docks dominated by warehouses.

“
Headmaster, wait,” Erick exclaimed.  The two of them were losing sight of the suddenly energetic man.  Colius stopped and turned, obviously frustrated.  The two younger monks snaked through the throng to the fat man’s side.  He was puffing and red-faced, but immediately turned to move on.

“Where are we going?” Erick ventured.

“I have a meeting,” Colius snarled.  It was obvious he wanted to save every breath for walking.

Dramus and Erick shared a look.  They shrugged, and continued after their
headmaster.

Eventually they found themselves at the door to a warehouse that, to Dramus, was largely identical
to the hundreds that surrounded it.  While the two younger monks looked nervously up and down the oddly deserted street, Colius rapped upon the door.

It
opened and a stern faced man appeared, wearing dark clothes with a red dragon symbol upon the tabard that was slightly familiar to Dramus.  He didn’t have time to dwell on it, as the man waved the group inside.

“Move,” was all he said.  While dubious, the two younger men followed their leader.

The interior was dark.  Any windows had been boarded up from the inside, and no torches were lit.  There was a faint light coming from a distant doorway, which they used to navigate the cavernous storerooms.  When they got to a small foyer at the other end, Dramus could see the door was cracked, with morning light flooding in.

Dramus was growing more concerned.  There was no reason he could think of to be in such a place, and he was getting more uncomfortable by the second.  He glanced at Erick.  The aide was looking wildly about, trying to pierce the darkness.  He let out a soft whimper, looking at the floor, the ceiling, and especially at the back of their mysterious guide.  He was like a rat in a trap.

“Headmaster, what are we doing?” he asked, before their grim guide cut him off.

“Quiet.”

The guard reached down and pulled open a door in the floor, and then stood back, nodding to the headmaster.  Colius returned his nod, made a sharp motion for the others to follow, and descended the stone steps into the cellar.

They stood in the darkness at the bottom for a moment, until the guard came down, lit a torch, and lead the way into the gloom.  The place smelled of mildew and dust, and Dramus was growing more and more uneasy.

“We shouldn’t be here,” Erick whispered to him.  Dramus didn’t respond, but he couldn’t help but agree.  Something about the whole scenario was disturbing, beyond the strange location.  He decided to keep his eyes open, and his other senses on edge.

Further in, they came to a chamber much like the others they’d passed through.  The torch-bearer leaned down to move a few pallets on the floor, then opened another trapdoor that had been concealed there. 

While it appealed to the side of Dramus’s imagination that enjoyed adventure tales, it was adding to his sense of foreboding.

They descended and met another man in the same livery.  The two strangers exchanged words, and then the group moved on while the remaining guard closed the trapdoor.

Dramus tried to remember the way that they took through the catacombs, but after a time it became futile.  Erick was becoming more distracting now; he jerked about constantly, as if each shadow were an enemy, and muttering to himself about “the pale man”.  It added to a strong surreal quality to the whole thing.

They began to see more men.  Dramus could only assume they were soldiers of some kind.  Each man was armed and armored.  Each one stared at them as they passed.

Eventually, Dramus saw light ahead of them in the corridor.  They came into a large chamber, with crypts inset into the old-fashioned brick walls.  A large table had been set up in the center of the room, and while there were other men moving about, tending to weapons and equipment, it was the woman at the table that commanded Dramus’s attention.

She was bedecked in black plate armor, with a long black cloak trimmed in bear fur.  She was an exotic beauty, with ebony hair, dusky skin, and eyes that were glittering pools of night.  She was tall, and even leaning over the table with her hands braced upon it she was of equal height with most of the men in the room.

Behind her loomed a brutal-looking man with an eye-patch.  He stood with his arms crossed, looking over the map that was spread out on the table.  He looked up as they entered and stiffened.  The woman looked up and broke into an alluring smile.

“Ahh, our guests have arrived!” she said, straitening and moving around the table, arms open.  Dramus and Erick gaped as she moved to embrace the
headmaster.  Colius grasped her hungrily, and sought to kiss her, but she turned her head at the last moment, so he merely slobbered on her cheek.

“Oh, Colius,” she purred, “You’re such a rogue!”

She pushed him back to arm’s length and looked to the two younger monks.  She seemed especially interested in Dramus.

“So,” she brea
thed, “This is the one?”  She looked back at the headmaster who nodded stupidly.  She immediately left him, and moved to stand before Dramus.

He was at a complete loss.  The whole situation was quite beyond his ken, and so he simply tried not to do anything foolish.  Still, he couldn’t help but shift uncomfortably under her searching glare.

“My name is Calistra Emberlock, baroness of Lockhaven,” she said.  He flinched slightly as she reached out a black-gloved hand and stroked his face.

“I’ve been waiting for you.”

“I don’t understand,” he said, voice creaking.

She turned her head sharply to the
headmaster and assumed an air of mock disappointment, “Colius!  You didn’t mention me?  I’m crushed.

“You see, your
headmaster and I are old friends,” she continued, walking over to stand next to Colius, “We share an interest in…political dynamics.”

The
headmaster seemed a little uncomfortable, but he nodded amiably.

Calistra walked back to Dramus, “I’ve heard a lot about you, young Hiltsman.”  She slid her arm through his, and he walked with her despite his surprise.

“You have a gift, an ability that I require.” They walked around the table to a dark hallway in the opposite wall.  Dramus went along, looking to Erick and the headmaster who came along behind.  Erick looked as though he was in a trance, Colius appeared smug.

The
y moved through the catacombs, a torch-bearer accompanying them.  The baroness chattered along as they walked.

“Ever since I was a little girl, I’ve been fascinated with history.  My family has a rich tradition, you know.  We’ve always been the staunchest allies of the Van Uther line, always ready to lay down life and limb for the cause.”

She laughed bitterly, “Like most, we were blindly unaware of the great travesty that had been committed against the people of the Realm, by those sworn to protect it!”

They had moved through many chambers and halls, before finally coming into
a round room lit with lanterns upon hooks in the stone walls.  In the center of the room stood a circular stone dais, raised to about thigh height.  She stepped away from Dramus, moving around the dais and turning to face him.

“The truth of our history is almost too fantastic to bear,” she said, her face growing grave. 

“The Van Uthers have lied to us for generations, and it’s time that the people were shown the truth.”

She opened her arms wide and looked around the chamber, “This inauspicious place will witness the birth of a new age for mankind.”  She lowered her gaze and pointed to Dramus.

“And you are going to help make that happen.”  With that, she nodded to her guards and they grabbed the young monk by the arms.

“Hey,” he exclaimed, “Get what’s going on here?  Colius?”

The headmaster merely returned his look of fear and surprise with a deadpan glare.  The obvious disdain that seeped from his beady eyes sent a chill through Dramus, as he was roughly shackled to the wall.

Erick stood in stunned silence.  At least, that’s what it seemed like to Dramus, it was hard to tell.  The young man just stood, watching the scene with a detached air. 

When the guards stepped away from Dramus, he gave the manacles a good yank.  There was no way he’d be able to break through the metal.

“Make yourself at home,” Calistra giggled as she sidled next to the
headmaster. 

“Soon we’ll have the artifact brought i
n, and you can begin to use your gift to set history in motion.  Don’t worry, all will be explained, in due time.

“Come, Colius.  There is still much to do.”

They left together, arm in arm, with a dazed Erick following behind.  One guard remained, as well as the man with the eye patch.  Dramus couldn’t hold that man’s gaze long; the soldier appeared to be trying to bore a hole through his head with that one remaining orb.

Finally the warrior said, “Stay h
ere.  If he tries to escape…
hurt
him.”  The guard nodded and took up a post near the entrance to the room.

After a few minutes, the adrenaline began to fade from his system, and Dramus felt a sick feeling creep into his guts in its stead.  He struggled with the confusion that reigned in his mind, wondering how things had come to such a mixed-up state.

He felt betrayed, not only by Colius, but also by his gift.  The headmaster he could deal with; he half expected the man hated his guts anyway. But the fact that he’d been brought here as part of some plan against the king…that his gift would be used by a nefarious party set on revolution?  It twisted in his heart like a knife.

He hung his head, wrists already beginning to ache from the strain of supporting him.  In the dim light of chamber, sealed off from any part of the world he knew or understood, Dramus Hiltsman began to weep.

The war room of the royal palace was an octagonal chamber set below the throne room.  It was dominated by a massive wooden table, carved and painted to resemble the Realm. 

Miniature castles, towers, trees, and other landmarks dotted the surface, as well as blocks of infantry, cavalry, archers, and siege weaponry.

Hade could see
from the disposition of forces that the majority of the army’s resources were spread across the southern border, on the edge of the marshes.  The mutants that infested the swamps were a constant threat, and the border towns needed ever-vigilant protection.

As he slowly wal
ked around the table, with the princess in tow, he noted the other groups of soldiers that dotted the towns near the Holdwalls with some dismay.  It was nowhere near enough to halt the numbers of goblins advancing toward them.

He looked up as the ornate oak door opened.  Remiel Van Uther II, the wizard called Reynolt, and General Tavister came through in a train.  Hade and Ethelrynne stiffened and turned to face the group.

“Ahh, Hade, good,” Tavister said, coming to stand next to them.  He put a hand on  Hade’s shoulder and motioned to the map with his other hand.  “We’ve got a serious shitstorm brewing here, if what you’re telling us is true.”

The group moved to the eastern front.  Tavister placed a group of black painted soldiers where Kelleran’s Folly was located.

“Sir, I think it’s safe to assume they’ve made it past Ormery, here,” Hade pointed to the area.  There was no town indicated, but the general moved the model to the spot.  “I only hope that Osric was able to persuade the people to evacuate.”  '

He shared a look with
Ethelrynne.

“It seems that we’re going to n
eed to bolster the lists,” the king interjected, “As well as pull some troops from the southern line to meet the goblin threat.” 

He reached over and moved several blocks of troops from the marshes to the east.

Tavister frowned, “It’s an ugly picture, Your Highness.”

He motioned to the southern line, “It leaves the defense spread thin, while barely mustering a force large enough to contend with the numbers
Corporal Hade has indicated.”

The k
ing crossed his arms and frowned. 

“
A battalion of knights can strengthen the lists.  We’ll need to pull reserves from the west…” he looked to his general with a pained expression.

“What is it?” Hade asked.

Remiel looked to Reynolt, and back to Tavister.  The awkward silence stretched out.  Ethelrynne ended it.

“You’re either going to have to trust us, or send us on our way.  If we were intent on anything other than the defense of the Realm, we wouldn’t be here.”

The king looked chastened, “Your right, of course, Princess.” 

He nodded to Reynolt, who walked over to the western edge of the table.

“We’ve recently become aware of a plot that, in all honesty, may eclipse the goblin threat in severity.” The wizard looked at the board, face grave.

Ethelrynne and Hade
were skeptical, but held their tongues.  Reynolt pointed to a small keep located far to the north and west of Freehold.

“This is the barony of
Lockhaven.  It’s long been ruled by the Emberlock family.  They’ve ever been staunch allies of the crown…until recently.  The Baroness Calistra has apparently allied herself with dark powers.

“
Malavarius Drejth has returned.”

The name hung in the air like a foul stench.  Hade’s eyes widened, and he looked to the
king.  Remiel matched his stare.

“It’s true.  Reynolt here was witness to the…shade of the man using magic to communicate with this plane.  He means to destroy the Realm.”

“How?” Ethelrynne asked.

Reynolt moved down the coast.  “I wasn’t able to get all the partic
ulars, but Drejth is suing the baroness to set up some sort of artifact here, in Galloway.”  He pointed to the large model of the port city.

“From what I could gather, he’s duped Calistra into believing that the device will help her turn the
people of the city against the crown, thereby giving her the chance to rise up and lead a revolution.  With the population of our largest city at her command, she could easily bring the Realm to its knees.

“Instead, it’s something that will allow the Drejth to complete a ‘Ritual of Breaching’ as he called it.”

“So Drejth taught her the magic she’ll need to operate this artifact?” Hade questioned, rubbing his beard.  Ethelrynne stood at his side with a grim expression.

“Not exactly,” Reynolt responded.  “There’s a man she’s been instructed to kidnap, a monk from the Temple of
the Sacred Scroll, who’s possessed of a gift to understand any language.  He can decipher any text, translate any symbol.

“Drejth plans on using the monk to operate the device.  We can only assume that once it’s operational, he’ll become a more willing ally for the rebellion.”

“The problem is,” the king interjected, moving to stand beside Reynolt, “we don’t know exactly where in the city she’s operating out of. 

“
I have been in contact with the baron of Galloway, my cousin Günter.  I also have a man on the ground in the city, but while he’s tracked the baroness’s men to a specific warehouse, so far the trail has gone cold.  I assume she’s set it up as a red herring…”  He brought a finger to his lips, thinking.

Hade was thoughtful for a moment, seeming to wrestle with something
.  Finally he decided to speak.

“Your
Highness, do you know where, exactly, this warehouse is?”

“Why?”

Hade stepped toward the model of the city.  He set his hand upon it, remembering.

“Well, I grew up in Galloway. 
I spent a lot of time working in the warehouse district, even as a recruit.  In fact, I only left there after my basic training and came here for deployment.” 

He looked
up at the king, “I think I could help your man find this hideout.”

The k
ing frowned, and Tavister stepped forward, “Corporal, we’re gonna need your help dealing with the goblins.  You’re one of the few men in the realm who’s experienced real action against them.  I can guarantee that you’re the only man who’s dealt with trolls and giants.”

Hade looked to Remiel, who merely raised his eyebrows.

“If what Reynolt says is true,” Hade began, “the goblins will have an easier time of wiping out the eastern half of the Realm if Emberlock raises the west against the crown. 

“I know that section of the city like the back of my hand, both above and below the streets.  There are old tunnels down there that most folk have forgotten about.  If she’s got men there, I can find ‘em.”

He turned to the general, “Besides, I’m not the only one in the Realm who’s dealt with goblins and trolls.”

He looked to the p
rincess, who nodded.

“Ethelrynne and her people have been putting arrows into blackloods since before we were born.  Her rangers are working with Baron Holt in Vizerburg as we speak.”

“We can’t assume that the rest of the elves will be so kind as to come running to our aid,” Tavister objected.  He looked at the elf, “Begging your pardon, of course, Princess.”

She no
dded to him, but turned to the king, “This bickering is pointless, Your Highness.  We have the flying ship. 

“
Hade and I can lead a contingent of men to Galloway, stop the baroness and her plot, and then be back to Vizerburg to help with the defenses before the general has even reached the southern front.”

Remiel grinned, “You volunteering your service to our cause, Princess?”

She returned the smile, “I think I’ve done that already, Your Highness.”

“True enough,” he nodded bef
ore turning to address the room.

“Alright.
Reynolt, you will accompany these two and the apprentices to Galloway.  Find Calistra.  Stop her.  Capture or destroy her artifact.  Bring her here or kill her, either way she must be brought to justice.” 

Reynolt nodded grimly.

“General Tavister,” Remiel turned, “I want you to pick as many of your best men as will safely fit aboard the flying ship.  Give command to…” he looked at Hade thoughtfully, “
Captain
Hade.” 

The soldier stiffened, surprise plain on his face.

“I then want you to take the princess’s three rangers, and as many troops as you can muster here, to the southern front to begin marshaling a battle force to march to the east.”

He glanced at Ethelrynne as he spoke and she nodded her approval. 

“The Rangers can serve as your liaisons, should an elven host march to our aid.  Make sure the men talk with them, get to know them.  I don’t want infighting should the elves fight alongside us.”

“Very good, My King,”
Tavister acknowledged.  He took a step and offered his hand to Hade,

“Congratulations, Captain.  Take care of my men.”

A stunned Hade shook his hand and managed to nod.

Tavister turned to the King and saluted, “I must make haste, Your
Highness, if I’m to get the paperwork sorted before we begin preparations for departure.”

Remiel returned his salute, then clapped the man on the shoulder, “Get the job done, General.  The Realm is counting on you.” 

With that, the other man left the chamber.

Ethelrynne turned to Hade, “I’ll go talk to
my rangers.  They won’t be pleased, but they’ll do their duty.  I’ll meet you upstairs.” 

With that, she gave him a peck on the cheek, nodded to the other men, and took her leave.

The king watched her go before looking at Hade with a raised eyebrow.

“The road makes strong companions, they say,” he s
aid, with only a hint of mirth in his eyes.  Reynolt hid his smile in his hand.

“I’d s
ay they were right, Your Highness,” Hade blushed.

“Reynolt,” the k
ing said in a businesslike tone, “Let’s have a better look at Galloway.” 

The wizard walked to an armoire in a corner, sifted through some papers and came away with a large scrolled map.  He spread it out upon the table.

The king leaned in, “Now, let’s see if Hade can shed some light on our predicament…”

An hour later, Hade and Ethelrynne were alone in one of the palace’s many staterooms.  It was opulently furnished, with a massive four poste
d feather bed and canopy. 

The p
rincess had doffed her armor, and sat in front of a splendid vanity brushing her long platinum hair.

Hade picked at a tray of food that had been brought up to them, trying to sort his thoughts.  Popping a grape into his mouth, he moved to the edge of the bed and began removing his boots.  After he’d grunted them off, he sat there, leaning forward with his arms on his legs.

After the silence had stretched, Ethelrynne stopped brushing and turned to him.  Hade just sat, staring at the carpet.

“What is it?” she asked. 

He looked at her and she smirked, “Bouncing from one world-ending crisis to another while having no clue about how to solve either getting you down?”

He blinked.  For a few seconds more, all he could do was stare, before he busted out a guffaw.

“Wow.  You certainly summed it up nicely,” he chuckled.  Just the same, he brought a hand up to worry his beard before looking through the floor again.

The p
rincess rose, set down the ornate brush, and walked over to him.  She reached out and grabbed his hand and pulled it away from his face.  He looked up at her and she cupped his chin with her palms.

“All we can do is what we can do,” she said quietly.

He frowned slightly, “That’s awfully Zen of you, Princess.”

She raised an eyebrow at the word.  He waved it away, standing to look her in the eye, “It’s a philosophy some sects of clergy subscribe to…
never mind.” 

He encircled her with his arms, finding comfort in her shape.  She pressed against him and smiled.

He remained troubled.  “I just can’t help but think I’m in over my head here.  Don’t you worry that we’ll fail?  That the Realm could shatter?  What happens here will surely echo through the elven Realm as well.”

Her smile slipped, and she thought for a moment, regarding him with those bottomless purple pools.

“I know this might come as a surprise to you, Man,” she said, reminding him of their first meeting, “But the elves have faced crises of our own throughout our history.  A history, I might add, that greatly outstrips yours in terms of length.”

The corner of her mouth turned up as she continued, “Besides, I’ve lived for a hundred years.  It takes a little more than plans and speculation to get me riled up.”