The Tomb of the Dark Paladin (48 page)

As her cloak of darkness was wiped away by the power of the light, the Frost Elf was revealed. She stood with her staff aloft and pointed at the companions, fury on her face. Carym, Morgon and Bart knew that the time to attack her was now and the three moved downhill as one toward the blue-skinned witch. But the witch would not wait; with an audible curse she turned into a cloud of vapor and disappeared, a gust of wind drifted through the valley and scattered the remnants of the mist.

"Gone!" cursed the bard, but Carym suspected he was pleased. Bart was exhausted, nearly falling down with fatigue. He would not have lasted long in another battle. Ederick fared little better, Morgon's wound seemed to resist the healing power of the Tides.

"That was no ordinary Frost Elf," said Morgon, his face contorted in pain. Carym looked at him curiously. "That was Essenen, one of Umber's Dark Disciples." That revelation stunned Carym. The Dark Disciples were the most powerful of the Dark One's minions. They were the only beings that Carym feared more than he feared Frost Elves. He could not even voice the consternation he was feeling. 

"She will be back then, so she will."

"Aye," said the red elf. "And soon. We should get to the hilltop." That was when Carym remembered Genn had been there, protecting the Tome. He turned and raced up the hillside, berating himself for not thinking of her sooner. With renewed energy, he bounded his way up the slope, racing to meet her, eager to see her and wrap his arms about her. When he reached the top, he saw Hala resting, weary. One of her lieutenants was with her and they spoke quietly in their own tongue. When she saw Carym arrive, she sent the warrior away and looked at Carym with compassion.

"Where is she?" he asked aloud, looking around. "What happened to her?"

"She's gone, Carym," said Hala, a gentle hand on his arm.

"Gone? What happened?" he asked, his mind reeling. "She's dead?"

"Not dead, Carym. Gone."

"How?" he asked. "Is she hurt?"

"I think she is ok," replied the princess.

"Well, let's go find her! She must have been captured!"

"She wasn't captured, Carym," said Hala, gently. "She left. And she took the Tome with her."

"What? You're wrong! She would never--" but even as the words left his mouth, he knew that Hala had spoken truthfully. She shook her head, profound sadness in her eyes. 

Carym's mind could not make sense of this and he fell to his knees, a tear trickling down his face. They had been through so much together, he had trusted her completely. The pain was unbearable and he looked at Hala again, expecting to see condemnation or ridicule. What he saw was compassion and empathy. He put his head in his hands, this was the one thing that he could never have fathomed. It was like losing his wife all over again.

Hala left Carym to his grief, saying something about Ederick being injured. His mind didn't comprehend the words as he struggled between the raw emotions of grief, guilt, and anger. It was anger that seemed to sooth his soul the most. So he held on to that anger, and nursed it. He lurched to his feet, wiping his face and clenching his jaw. He would make her pay for her betrayal. He looked about in every direction, his enhanced
sight
reaching out the Tides, but he could find no trace of Genn. He remained on the hilltop, staring out at the world before him and lost track of time. 

"How are your people, Princess?" asked Ederick.  

"I lost only a few of my warriors, precious though each one was to my people."

"I am sorry for your loss, Princess. But I am grateful for your service and that of your people."

Hala said nothing in return, just stood by Carym looking out over the landscape.

"Did you see what happened?" Carym whispered.

Hala nodded. Her grim face told Carym something then that he would never have expected. Her hand found his own and she squeezed it reassuringly. Amidst the surging storm of emotions that pummeled his mind was the one emotion that had helped through so many hard years in the past; anger. Familiar, comfortable, soothing anger. He knew the truth in his heart and he forced himself to say it aloud.

"She betrayed us," he muttered. He felt drained and hollow inside. He looked out over the battlefield, at the death and destruction. Then he looked in the direction in which Genn had fled. 

"I have sent the rest of my warrior knights onward. My people will need all their warriors to face this threat. We must make do on our own."

"We will track her, she must be taking the tome to Balzath," Carym began.

"This will be no rescue, lad!" said the Bard, harshly.

"Rescue wasn't what I had in mind," Carym returned, grimly.

"We cannot go after her, for rescue or revenge," said the red elf, greatly weakened. "She is under the protection of Balzath and Essenen, two of Umber's Dark Disciples. Then there is Umester. Had we an army at our disposal the Tome would be no closer to us."

"Then all hope is lost," said Carym. "We needed that Tome! What can we do to stand against the Shadow now?"

The companions were silent. The loss of the Tome and Genn's betrayal were profound. This was supposed to be the culmination of the journey that had caused so much death and destruction to others, those who did not deserve it. This goal was what had driven Carym to carry on when he felt like giving up. And now it had all come crashing down. 

"We cannot stop Umber from using the Tome of Sigils to permanently bring the dark power of the Shadow Sigil back into the world. That hope is lost," said the elf.  

"There is something else, isn't there?" asked the bard perceptively.

"Aye," whispered Morgon, his eyes fluttering as he slipped towards unconsciousness. "There is something else."

--THE END–

The Chronicles of Llars will continue in Volume V.

More From Me:

The Chronicles of Llars

I A Tide of Shadows

II The Black Keep

III Shadowblade

IV The Tomb of the Dark Paladin

The Chronicles of Heck Thomas

The Centaurus Legacy

The Orion Deception

My upcoming projects include new epic fantasy,

modern adventure fiction, and historical fiction.

About Me

I’m a veteran of the US Marines, a career law enforcement officer, a husband, a father of two, and a CF dad. I love the outdoors. When I'm not spending time with my family I'm usually out on the lake, or knee deep in a creek, fishing.

I am also a graduate the online workshop of NY Times Best Selling Author, Tracy Hickman, known as Scribe’s Forge. As Tracy was in large part responsible for inspiring me to write, this was an amazing experience. I highly recommend Scribe’s Forge for aspiring writers, and I recommend anything written by Tracy and Laura Hickman for avid fantasy readers like me.

The names and artwork from these books are inspired mainly by Celtic and European artwork and mythology. The wheel on each chapter is a derivative of the Celtic Sun Wheel. Each space represents one of the Sigil disciplines: Flame, Air (lightning bolt), Earth, Water, Shadow (skull), and the empty space is reserved for the lost discipline of Spirit.

Feel free to contact me on my facebook page:

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or on Twitter

@TomBielawski

Aspiring author? Check out the Scribe’s Forge, hosted by the Master of Fantasy himself:

NYT Bestselling author, Tracy Hickman.

www.scribesforge.com

Do you like fishing as much as me? Stop by and talk to Joe at Ancient Mariner Tackle.

Tell him I sent you and get a discount.

www.ancientmarinertackle.com