The Ascent (Book 2) (14 page)

The Defiler rose up from behind the Jindala soldiers, standing up to its full height and roaring with the ferocity of every demon in Hell at once. Its black robes, tattered and torn, billowed around it as it released its dark fury. The Jindala fled from its presence, but both Erenoth and Khalid knew that the miners would never let them escape.

The two priests backed away from the foul beast. Though both were familiar with the beast's nature, only Erenoth had ever faced one in battle. Khalid looked to his friend for advice. Erenoth said nothing, but transformed into dragon shape. The Defiler, seeing the dragon, reared back its claws, preparing to strike.

Khalid pounced forward, slashing at the Defiler with his twin scimitars. The blades sliced through the robes, but hit nothing underneath. This Defiler was much more agile than any that Khalid had ever seen.

Agile, but not fire proof.

Erenoth's flame engulfed the beast, lighting its cloak up like an oil soaked rag. The Defiler screeched and flailed in anger as the black cloth disintegrated. Now Khalid could see the creature's body, as pale and ghastly as he had ever seen. He leaped forward again, crossing his swords in a double dismembering slash. Erenoth attacked from behind at the same time, leaving the beast unable to dodge both.

Khalid's blades tore through the creature's thigh, severing it just above the knee. Erenoth's claws ripped into the Defiler's back, tearing away large chunks of vile flesh. The beast howled, crouching down to summon its dark power. Erenoth shot another jet of flame, engulfing the creature as it released its power on Khalid.

The priest's twin scimitars crossed before him, forming a shield that absorbed much of the creature's dark energy. Though uninjured, Khalid felt the drain on his body. He was somewhat stunned, stepping back to gather his wits again. Erenoth continued his assault, gaining the Defiler's full attention while his friend recovered.

The Defiler clawed and raked at Erenoth as the dragon taunted it. The two creatures growled and bared their teeth, trading blows as Khalid regained his strength. He kept back, looking to the hiding places of the miners to ensure they were still safe before returning to the fight. The guards who had run off were now on their knees in the company of the mine's leaders, tied up and gagged. Satisfied they had the situation under control, Khalid attacked.

He ducked low behind the Defiler, crossing his blades outwards at the back of the beast's knee. The blades sliced through the foul flesh with ease, severing the right leg. The Defiler screeched in pain, turning to attack Khalid. But Khalid had spun around behind it again and attacked the other leg.

It came off as easily as the first.

Now crippled and defenseless, the Defiler attempted to flee on its hands. It dragged its vile body behind it as it quickly raked its claws into the rocks in an attempt to get away. Erenoth let loose another blast of flame and the creature screamed once more as its weakened body succumbed to the flames and finally caught fire.

Finish him off.

Khalid nodded, stepping forward to stand over the prone, burning Defiler. He sheathed one sword, gripping the other with both hands and lifting it above his head. He came down, slicing the Defiler's head clean off with a single slash. The head rolled onto the ground, immediately beginning to crumble. The Defiler's stolen life force leaked from its body, swirling around it as it sought a conduit. Khalid held out his sword, inviting the life force to enter him.

With a burst of light, the swirling field shot toward Khalid's blade. He felt it rush through his body, healing the damage done by the Defiler and replenishing his strength. As he absorbed it, he heard the voices of hundreds of souls thanking him for releasing them from their prison and felt their warmth permeate his very soul. He smiled, not knowing for sure if he had truly freed the Defiler's previous victims, or if he had only freed random energy. Either way, it felt good, and fueled his smile even further.

Erenoth transformed, standing before Khalid in human form once more. "Are you alright, my friend?" he asked.

"I am fine," Khalid replied, still smiling. "I am not sure what just happened, but I feel much stronger."

Erenoth smiled, turning to the miners who now approached. There were twelve of them, along with twelve women and a host of children. They, too, were smiling and joyful, happy to be free of Jindala control. Among them, a middle aged man stepped forward. He was dirty, sweaty, and built like an ox.

"You are from the dragon temple," he surmised.

"Yes," Erenoth replied. "I am Erenoth, High Priest of Dol Drakkar. This is Khalid, High Priest of Tel Drakkar."

The man nodded to both of them. "We thank you for helping us," he said. "We have lost many men since the Jindala arrived. Their lust for the metal has been dangerous to us."

Khalid looked the man in the eye, sensing something strange within him that he could not understand. Among the other men, some of them, too, seemed to possess the same strange quality. It was almost as if he had met them before, long ago, or in another place.

"Are you skilled with stone?" Khalid asked, not knowing why. "Not just in digging through it, but in shaping and building with it."

The man nodded. "Yes, we are all stonemasons by trade. We built the supports inside the mines, and the structures you see around you."

"What is your name?" Khalid asked.

"I am Dael," the man replied.

Erenoth looked to his friend. Inside, Erenoth knew what Khalid was feeling. He felt the same way when he had met his priests many thousands of years ago.

"Whom do you serve?" Erenoth asked.

"We serve the Dragon," Dael replied. "Forever and always."

Khalid laughed. "I need you, then," he said. "I am in need of priests who can assist me at the temple. It needs rebuilt."

"My workers and I can help you, my friend." Dael offered. "I am not much for ceremony, but we are all skilled enough to build. We are all willing to learn whatever else is needed."

"Can you fight?" Khalid asked.

"With weapons, yes," Dael replied. "But the Jindala took everything we had. Otherwise, we would have killed them. Except for the creature, of course."

"Go to Tel Drakkar as soon as you can," Khalid instructed him. "When you arrive, the Dragon will welcome you as he did me. I will be there as well."

Dael nodded, turning to his brothers, who all nodded in agreement. "We accept your offer," he said. "And we accept the Dragon's invitation."

"Well, my friend," Erenoth said. "It seems your earlier question has been answered. You have your priests."

Khalid smiled again, watching as Dael and his brothers walked away. "Since I came to Tel Drakkar," Khalid said, "I have gotten more answers than I ever have. But, I do have one question."

"What is that, my friend?

"When do we eat?" Khalid asked. "I'm starving."

Chapter Nine

The city of Faerbane was the jewel of the Southern Kingdom. Its castle was constructed of the finest limestone, bluish-gray and trimmed in white, with hundreds upon hundreds of spires and minarets of various sizes and styles. Behind the castle, on the west side, the River Tyr poured over the high cliffs and into a crystal clear pool below. The pool, in turn, was emptied by another canal that went right through the castle, and continued on through the city and into the sea.

The city itself was constructed of the same limestone, giving it a uniform and organized appearance that was only marred by the addition of The Lifegiver’s banners.

Queen Maebh stood at her window looking out over the waterfall that cascaded over the rocky cliff to the pool below. There, the fine mist created a beautiful rainbow that would fill the heart of any good person with joy.

But not Maebh. She stared with contempt at the spectrum of color, blinded to its meaning and beauty. Her thoughts were focused on the upcoming arrival of the Prophet, and the communication that was to occur at any moment. Maebh was apprehensive, yet delighted, at the prospect of seeing the Prophet. The meeting would solidify Maebh’s rightful place as a leader in the New World.

It was a future with benefits that put a smile on the dark queen’s face.

Maebh went to the large, golden framed mirror that dominated the north wall of her chambers. There, she would communicate with the Prophet and receive her instructions on how to prepare the city for her arrival. It was known that the Enkhatar would accompany her—two of them, at least—and they would need special accommodations upon their arrival. Accommodations that would, no doubt, require the lives and souls of many of her subjects.

It mattered not.

Maebh admired herself in the reflective crystal, noting how her laugh lines and crow’s feet had smoothed out and all but disappeared with the use of The Lifegiver’s magic. The Prophet had instructed her on how to summon the dark energy, and Maebh used it to her personal benefit. She looked every bit as young and vibrant as she did twenty years ago, and even her red hair seemed brighter and her green eyes deeper and more mysterious.

She smiled as she thought of Siobhan, her twin sister. The Queen of the Northern Kingdom would most likely show the signs of a life of stress. She would have aged. Her pathetic love for her subjects and her dedication to their happiness would be the undoing of her beauty. Such foolishness had no place in Maebh’s heart. Her subjects were just that; subjects. They were not people. They were not important, other than their ability to provide her with all the luxuries she needed to be comfortable. To hell with them.

Suddenly the mirror shimmered. Circular waves spread outward like the ripples from a pebble dropped in a pond. The center glowed bright blue, swirling around and around as the image of a beautiful, yet sinister looking woman appeared. She was dressed in black and red silk, with a large white
atef
that bore a golden cobra head at the forehead. Her eyes were lined with black make up, thinly applied, and turned up at the outer corners. She appeared young, perhaps younger than Maebh herself, yet she was, in reality, much older. Her own use of The Lifegiver’s magic had extended her life considerably. Perhaps Maebh would one day wield the same power.

“Greetings, Maebh,” the Prophet said, smiling. “You are looking well.”

Maebh bowed low in subservience. “It is a pleasure to see your face again,” she said, respectfully. “I look forward to your arrival. It has been a long, long time.”

“Indeed it has,” the Prophet agreed. “But this visit will not be all pleasure. The Onyx Dragon has infiltrated the South and is gaining the support of your people. He must be destroyed.”

“Eamon is not a threat,” Maebh laughed. “He is inexperienced, and his knights will be powerless against the Enkhatar.”

“One of them possesses the Sword of Sulemain,” the Prophet reminded her. “He was once an ally, but has now sworn allegiance to the Dragon. His brother has blasphemed as well.”

“So I’ve heard,” Maebh lamented. “And they are not the only ones. My sages tell me that a Sheikh named Khalid has converted as well. Even now he is training to become a Priest of Drakkar.”

“Khalid is of no importance,” the Prophet said. “He and his peers are doomed to fail as the Dragon loses power. The Dragon will concentrate his own power on Eamon and the Knights of the Dragon. But, other than the knights, Farouk is the greatest threat.”

“What part does he have in this?” Maebh asked.

“He is a Druid,” the Prophet replied. “Once in service to the Dragon, but now under the wing of the Great Mother Herself.”

“What of Jodocus? Does he not serve the Great Mother?”

“Jodocus serves the Dragon first and foremost. Every land has a Druid that serves its firstborn. Farouk serves the Great Mother, and may one day become the Grand Druid.”

“How can this happen?” Maebh wondered out loud.

“He will attempt to free the Firstborn, I suppose. That is the only way to strengthen the Great Mother. If this happens, our plans for domination will be in danger.”

Maebh swallowed hard. The thought of losing any amount of status she had gained pained her. All that she had worked for would be gone, and the world would return to its vile state of peace.

“It will never happen,” she said. “I will ensure it. My son will ensure it.”

“I have yet to meet your son,” the Prophet said. “You were wise to hide him away as long as you have.”

“He has spent his life training to be king,” Maebh explained. “And he has been learning the ways of The Lifegiver. His dark Rangers will make short work of the Rangers of the North.”

The Prophet smiled. “I look forward to meeting him,” she said. “But be wary. I can sense the presence of a company of Rangers in the area. They infiltrated the kingdom many weeks ago, and have even broken off contact with Siobhan and Kuros in order to remain hidden.”

“They are one of only two companies left,” Maebh said. “Before he turned, Khalid destroyed one company already.”

“That’s another thing. Khalid’s Defiler was vanquished in Taryn. It survived somehow, but is loose and without its handler. It may put our plans in great danger.”

“How so?” Maebh asked. “Wouldn’t it destroy everything in its path?”

The Prophet sighed. “You understand nothing of their nature,” she said. “They will feed only when they need to. And without a handler, they will not attack, only survive. In this state, they can be dominated.”

“Who would have the will or power to dominate them?”

“Jodocus perhaps,” the Prophet replied. “Even Farouk. That is why it must be found. We must recapture it before it falls into the hands of the enemy.”

“Would they be able to use it against us?” Maebh asked.

“In a manner of speaking. But we will not discuss this now. You must prepare for our arrival. We will put in at port tomorrow morning. I will have two Enkhatar with me. The others will sail around south to the west side of the island and release the darkling upon the countryside. They will spread and destroy all in their path.”

“I can’t wait to see you,” Maebh said. “And I can’t wait for you to meet my son.”

The Prophet smiled, her eyes twinkling with delight. “I look forward to tomorrow. This meeting has been a long time coming. Be prepared, and all will be well.”

“I will be ready,” Maebh replied. “Until tomorrow. Goodbye, Mother.”

Adder led Ferrin into the safety of the Thieves’ Guild’s secret compound beneath the streets of Gaellos. The brick-lined walls of the corridor were moist and dimly lit with glowing orange orbs that hung from the ceiling. They swayed gently with their passing, making the light and shadows dance all around them. The floor was stone, lightly moist and roughly hewn. Despite the gloom, the corridor was warm and cozy.

Adder walked ahead of Ferrin, with the remaining thieves trailing behind the Governor. They did not bother watching behind them, as the secret corridor was secure. The hard part had been escaping Faillaigh, a task that required not only stealth, but endurance. The underground passages were twisting and crumbled, and navigating them was not easy. Despite his age, Ferrin had made the journey without incident.

“Ah,” Adder said as the group approached the heavy steel door that opened into the compound. “We have arrived.”

Ferrin waited as Adder knocked three times, and smacked the door once with his palm; the signal that Adder had arrived with his charge safely. A small porthole opened, squeaking as the small steel door opened on ancient hinges.

“Where does the moor cat sleep at night?” a voice whispered.

“The moor cat only sleeps in the morning.” Adder answered.

A loud metallic thud sounded, and the door was slowly opened. A young woman stood in the doorway, eyeing Adder. “Welcome back, Adder,” she said. “Enter.”

The woman stepped aside, letting the group pass by one by one. Ferrin scanned the entryway, smiling as the eclectic decor of stolen goods filled his vision. The smell of incense hung in the air, masking the barely noticeable scent of opium. He turned to the young woman, who closed the door and stood before him. She was dressed in casual clothing of dark, neutral colors; pants, soft house boots, and a blouse that was loose and comfortable. She smiled as she looked up at him.

“Hello Jhayla,” Ferrin greeted her. “You are looking lovely, as always. How is my favorite cutpurse?”

“I am well,” she replied. “Welcome home, Grandmaster.”

Ferrin embraced her, patting her back affectionately. Adder rolled his eyes, having never gotten used to Ferrin’s favoritism for the females among them.

“Gather everyone in the meeting hall,” Ferrin commanded Jhayla. “We must prepare to assist the soldiers of Gaellos in an assault.”

“An assault?” Jhayla and Adder asked at the same time.

Ferrin nodded gravely. “An army comes from Faerbane to take back the city. They will be accompanied by Defilers, no doubt, and possibly other, more formidable foes.”

“Eamon’s army is camped outside the city,” Jhayla informed him. “There are Northmen with them, along with Jindala who have switched sides.”

Ferrin nodded again, pleased to hear the news. “Good,” he said. “I will speak to them as soon as I can. Who is in command?”

“A Northman named Ulrich,” Adder replied. “The father of one of Eamon’s knights.”

Ferrin laughed, seeing humor in the thought of an uncivilized Northman becoming a knight. “Interesting,” he said. “Let us gather and we will discuss our plans.”

Adder and Jhayla departed to gather the rest of the guild. Ferrin dismissed the other thieves with a wave of his hand. They bowed, disappearing into the shadows; a tactic that was completely unnecessary at the home base. Chuckling, the Grandmaster made his way to the guild hall to address his pupils.

The guild would assist the soldiers in the upcoming battle in any way they could. Perhaps flanking the attackers would be the best course. He did not know. The decision could only be made after consulting with Ulrich himself. It was a thought that didn’t excite Ferrin much, as he had always found Northmen to be rather unpleasant. But, they were fierce warriors and trusted Eamon’s choice to allow them to join his army.

It would be a good battle, with many spoils to be gained.

Garret crouched in the brush; keeping watch on the inn he had encountered a day’s walk outside Faerbane. The two-story house was well cared for, and put together with sturdy stone and thick wood beams. A wooden porch wrapped around two sides of the house, with a large sign near the stairway that read
Jax’s Inn & Pub
in skillfully carved lettering. The area around the entire place was landscaped conservatively, with plants that boasted few flowers.

The grounds were sheltered inside a cove of rocks and thick forest that held in the morning mist, and the walkway from the trail was paved in rough stone with weeds poking out here and there. Garret could see several windows on the second story, some of them lit, some of them dark. It would be a nice place to stay for a day’s rest, Garret thought, but his instincts told him to keep his distance and investigate.

Sure enough, as he remained hidden in the brush, a small patrol of Jindala passed by. There were four men, armed with spears and scimitars, and armored with the usual plate. They talked amongst themselves in their native language, laughing and joking, he assumed, about their duties. He watched them turn onto the walkway and ascend two by two, their voices growing quieter as they approached the porch. After a brief exchange with a man who exited, they entered.

Garret watched the man who had exited as he stumbled down the walkway and into a clump of trees. He disappeared behind a large birch and became quiet. Garret listened, eventually hearing the tiny splashing sounds of urination and an occasional drunken groan. Garret crept out from his hiding place and made his way toward the tree, taking a place on the opposite side to wait. After a few minutes, the urination stopped, and the man began to refasten his pants.

Garret stood, creeping around the tree. The man had turned to walk back to the tavern, still buckling his pants. Garret came up low behind him and wrapped his hand around the man’s mouth, and his other arm secured him around the waist and pulled him back into the clump of trees.