The Vitalis Chronicles: Tomb of the Relequim (20 page)

“
Sir.
” Bill was at his elbow. “They's ready for ya.”

The crowds in the central square surprised Merodach. Perhaps they had missed him more than he realized. He stood, wrapped in a thick black fur coat with a squat matching hat, and pushed his glasses back up his nose. It was even more red than usual, thanks to the cold.

He sniffed lightly and made his way slowly to the podium. He had refused to use his cane in front of the people, but the leg brace they had rigged up didn't exactly lend itself to natural movement. He gripped the polished wood and put his weight into it. God, the cold played havoc on his thigh.

Well
, he thought to himself,
here goes nothing
.

Bill turned to Clive in the shadowy alcove behind the Mayor's seat. “You got this?”

“
Aye.” Clive was focused on the Mayor as he hobbled to the podium. He reached into his jacket with his right hand, producing an amulet from a hidden pocket. He began rubbing it with his thumb as
he lowered it to his side.

“
Don' go doin' nothin' too foolish, then. Somethin' subtle.”

“
I knows what to do...”

“
You're a clot, you sod. Don' mess this up.”

“
Shut up.” Clive started muttering under his breath, eyes closing slowly. The amulet in his hand warmed. The center began to glow a deep red.

The Shadow King was stunned to see Merodach take the podium. Of all the days to return to the city, this may well have been the worst.

“
Citizens of Elandir!” the fat man began through the crackly loud speakers that boomed overhead. “We have suffered the worst treachery of our generation. We have been spat upon, reviled, and left to die by those who swore to protect us.”

The crowd around the Shade that would be Silvers had grown quiet, expectant. It was as if they were scared to breathe at the risk of missing a word.

“A generation ago, our forebears were asked to form an army. The first army that had ever been formed from any people in the Twelve Cities. All of our sisters gave some, but we gave much! Our heritage is tied to the strength of our military, the pride of Elandir.”

Nods of approval broke out with a weak scattering of applause.

“I assume you have heard of the events that are unfolding to the south. Rumors spread quickly, I fear. Sadly, they are true.” He looked down at the podium briefly before continuing. “Nearly a month ago, two units comprised of some of our best young men were waylaid and destroyed while on a routine training mission. And just days ago an outpost and garrison in the borderlands were set upon by the very men we once called allies. They were betrayed, slaughtered, and literally torn to shreds by the forces of Liscentia.”

The people near Silvers took the shock of the announcement like an icy wave to the groin.

“
Your sons died to protect you from the evil that besets us. They gave their lives to protect me against a treasonous assassination attempt just months ago. Now they have given their lives to protect
our great city. Let me beg you, do not allow that sacrifice to be in vain.”

Murmurs of agreement began to circulate around the Shade now; the sense that struggles and questions were finally being answered passing through the mass.

“
Our enemies to the south used one of our very own generals to overthrow our government. To
seek our downfall!”

Merodach paused to let it sink in. Silvers could feel the level of energy rising. Shifting to anger.

“
They know now that they have failed, that as a people we are too strong. And so they send their armies against us in force. But by now I'm certain the word has spread, and it is true. The south moves against us in our perceived weakness.

“
Stand with me Elandir. I was left scarred by their plot, nearly finished by treachery. But they failed, dearest Elandrians. They failed! We have always stood stronger than our brothers. Stronger than the world! It was the one great gift we received from the Magi. Now is the time to demonstrate that strength. Now is the time to demand their penance! To demand their fealty!”

To the Shadow King's disbelief, cheers flew from the crowd. Were they insane? Demanding the fealty of fellow City States? Merodach had gone mad and the world was joining him. Even if the Shadow King were to betray them, he wanted to save this world from the Relequim. That was his goal, he knew it to be true even as the words rang hollow in his mind. But this was utter madness... would there be any world left to save if Merodach had his way?

“
Elandir!” Merodach shouted the name. “I promise you that by year's end we will be the dominant force of the continent. We will crush our enemies, we will turn them to the true ways of our fathers, and we will rule them with such strength as the world has never seen!”

The crowd erupted into a roar of approval.

Dear God,
thought the Shade.
It's all coming to an end.

Merodach stood at the podium as the crowd applauded and cheered for what felt like a glorious eternity. He would have no problem passing the laws he needed to now. He would control this city better than he ever had, and soon he would control the entire coast.

“
I now resume the duties of the office of the Mayor of Elandir.”

And with that he walked back to his seat to a renewed chorus of cheers and applause.

“
Fantastic speech sir.”

“
Brilliant.”

“
We'll get the bastards, sir.”

The praise continued among the city's officials and military brass as they crowded around him. It was as if they had been caught in a spell of his making. The eerie nature of it wore off quickly as the realization of his renewed power caught up with him again. Only weeks before he had been confined to his own personal prison. And now he was back on top of the world. His heart soared as he sat and looked out at the thousands of people gathered to witness the event.

And then he saw him. A man in a black cloak, and not just any black cloak. He knew the shape of that hood, the point of its brow. The man was staring at him from under the shadow it cast, not clapping, not even moving. The happiness of the moment throttled and died in the twisting of Merodach's stomach. He gripped the arms of his chair as he attempted to shrink into it and disappear. It was him; he was certain of it.

“
Sir?” One observant voice rose above the praise of the rest. “Are you alright?”

The leaders of Elandir quieted down as they stared at their paralyzed commander. Merodach had gone pale. He was shaking.

“
Sir?”

The people in the square continued to cheer and sing the songs of the Great City as their Mayor stared at them in horror. The noise churned and whined in his ears as he focused on the man in black. His waking nightmare made manifest.

“
Sir, what's wrong?”

Finally, with a violent burst of terror and rage, the Mayor leaned forward and thrust a quivering finger towards the intruder.

“
It's him, the rat bastard. It's Silvers!”

T
HIRTEEN

T
ROY SILVERS, NO LONGER HIMSELF, STOOD IN THE MIDST OF A CROWD THAT WAS CHANGING
.
Rapidly. They had entered the square in conflict. Irresolute to the changing political tides of their nation. Upon seeing their leader reclaim his post they had grown ecstatic. He had never thought they would so warmly welcome the fat wretch back. But such was the populace. Fickle. And now they were breaking out into sheer hysteria.

Soldiers from all corners had appeared from the shadows, pressing into the crowd as if to corner a dangerous animal. And for good reason. Among the people stood the most dangerous animal most would ever know.

The Shadow King searched for his exit. Scanning the crowd, he saw none. They grew frantic as the loudspeakers were used to call out orders. To call out the location of the Shade in their midst. He tried to make the jump. Tried to disappear, as much as he hated doing so. But he found he couldn't. Another shelter... he was trapped.

His heart was pressing up into his throat as if to make its own escape. He pushed it down. Swallowed hard. Clenching his teeth he looked around from under the point of his hood. He was doing his best to follow the crowd. The last thing he wanted was to find himself in the middle of open space. But it made no difference. The men on the stage could see him clearly. He was trapped.

“
You,” a soft voice came from behind him as a hand gently gripped his elbow. “Come with me.”

He turned to see a woman holding his arm. She was old, yet handsome. Her dark hair touched with shocks of gray and her deep eyes mesmerizing. Her touch calmed him instantly. From the stage he could hear the man yelling over the loudspeaker. They had lost sight of him. Where was he?

“
Follow me,” she said, ignoring the crowds and loudspeakers. He obeyed.

They walked through the mass of bodies. They pressed easily through the people, no one seemed to pay them any mind. They were all too focused on escaping the square. The Shadow King grew tense as they passed through the ring of soldiers. He watched them closely, keeping his hands at the ready. But they never saw him as he walked right by.

The gentle tug on his arm guided him silently past and into the streets beyond.

The lone room of the apartment was dank, dark. It didn't fit well with the beautiful old woman who sat in front of the Shadow King. It smelled like mold and rotting fruit, sick and sweet. She sat cross-legged on a mat, humming to herself, some forgotten tune. She wandered brokenly between keys as the melody rolled forth; it almost sounded purposeful.

Her hands rested palms up on her knees. He sat across from her, not more than a yard away. Uncomfortable. He shifted in the low chair but stopped as it creaked beneath him. Her eyes never opened; her hands never flinched.

The only source of light in the room was a low-hanging lantern. It flickered dimly above them, casting shadows that danced towards the outskirts of the small room. The Shade swallowed, the sound deafening in his ears. Finally his questions could wait no longer.

“
How did you find me?”

She slowly stopped humming, but didn't say anything. He wondered if she wasn't in some sort of trance. Perhaps she had fallen asleep.

“
Merodach made it quite obvious where you were.”

“
How did we escape? It was like they couldn't even see us.”

“
Magic, of course.” The patronizing tone caused the Shade's temper to flare.

“
Magic,” he spat. “The walls of the city are enough to prevent the manipulation of the
atmosphere.” He disdained the use of the word 'magic.' Ignorant talk.

She reached into her cloak, producing some sort of powder. It sparkled faintly as it caught the light.

“
The ways of my master are higher than those of this city.”

The words struck his stomach like a gong. He could feel their resonance in his bones.

“
Then you're...”

“
Yes.” Her eyes opened as she looked at him. “A servant of the true powers.”

She brought her hands together then, sparkling dust flying as they collided in the darkness. Instantly a flash erupted from between her interlaced fingers. In its wake was left a burning, pulsing, purple light. At its core it looked to be entirely black.

The Shadow King's face drained of all blood as the medium clenched her hands together, straining to contain the power therein. And then she thrust it towards the ground with both hands.

Another flash revealed a shallow bowl of water between them. He hadn't noticed it in the darkness. It was pulsing with the energy now. He watched as the black and purple light intermingled with the water, swirling until the whole thing looked alight with ghostly flame. His stomach broiled as a third flash threw him off balance.

The bowl was left dark, illuminated solely by a ring of purple flame that hung loosely around its edges. It flickered and faded in and out of existence, threatening to die out. The medium was muttering some incantation. Whether she had been doing so the whole time or had just started he couldn't remember. And then he saw him. For the first time in nearly fifty years he saw the Enemy, the Demon.

The Relequim.

T
HE
F
ISHERMAN MOVED SO QUICKLY IT CAUGHT
A
RDIN OFF GUARD
.
He said, “Stay low,” and then took off. It took the young man the better part of a minute to catch up to his fully-armored counterpart as the Fisherman careened down the hill. How the old man moved so quickly and so smoothly was beyond Ardin.

He couldn't hear a sound the Fisherman was making in spite of all of the gear he carried. And he could hardly see him. Ardin realized that when he had said to stay low, he meant it. The Fisherman was nearly invisible. It made him self-conscious to notice the fact. How well was he doing at it, he wondered. He dropped lower in his stance as they ran, but felt like he was falling behind as soon as he did.

They entered the first of the trees half-way down the butte. He tried to readjust his technique, putting more weight on the balls of his feet. But before he had a chance to see any results a large hand jutted out of the grass in his face.

“
Hold on,” the Fisherman whispered.

The old man brought Ardin to a surprised stop. He was focused out towards where the two groups were about to converge. Ardin knelt in the grass and followed the Fisherman's gaze. He could barely believe this man was the same one who had brought him here just a day before. His entire countenance was different.