To Be Chosen (18 page)

She summoned the potential for, Freeze, but focused tightly on the first of the three suspicious miniature vaults. The golden light shot from her baton, striking the lock, and shattering it. She ceased the spell and opened the little door. Emeralds; the container was filled with the gems. She took a handful and likewise she destroye
d the lock on the second vault.

Serena stared into the open container at a cedar casket inlaid with gold, It was a cubit and half long, one cubit wide, and one cubit deep. On the lid, in gold script, were the stylized initials
,
D.L.
,
Della Lain, it had to be. The latch was simple, a gold-hinged device with a walnut-sized ruby, clearly an amulet, embedded in it. She started to reach into the vault, but stopped, and cast, Cushion Of Air, levitating the casket. A steel blade dropped from just beyond the opening and would have taken her hand. She cast, Freeze, at the offending blockage and then shattered it with her fist. The casket floated into her hands.

“How did you know?” Ferret asked.

“That’s why she is in charge and we’re not,” Taltin told him.

“If I were forced to entrust one of the worlds most powerful crescendos to a bunch of commoners, I would choose those who pass for royalty among them, they having the greatest resources, and then I would place it in a container, and shield it so no one, not even the commoners could open it. The shield would also prevent anyone from sensing the contents. It stood to reason, either these three vaults were empty of anything truly valuable, or the contents were shielded,” Serena replied.

“Empty of anything not a precious metal or diamonds,” Duggan clarified for DuCret, who was pointing at the emeralds in the other vault. He was not the sharpest blade in the cutlery block, but he was loyal to Serena, and well for him.

“SuTamkin, focus a shield on the opening, Duzolta, tunnel through the floor to the subbasement, and the rest of you get in line, we are leaving this compound now,” Serena ordered.

Guardsmen were showing up at the door but could do nothing but pound on the invisible barrier with their broadswords and halberds. A silver-haired man with a neatly trimmed beard stood in the midst of the soldiers. Duke Cantor held a short bow with an arrow at the ready. Some of the men were holding what looked like empty glass jars. They no doubt had some trick in mind and believed the only way out was through them. Serena laughed when Ferret glowed red-orange and sank into the floor. She levitated down to the subbasement and was followed by Duggan, DuCret, and Taltin.

SuTamkin dropped into the subbasement and ran to catch up, Serena noticed while glancing back. She heard glass shattering behind, up ahead, and echoing from the intersecting halls, then ran ahead of Ferret, who was no longer tunneling, and headed for the original tunnel from which they entered. She noticed a stairwell down at the end of an intersecting hall on her right with shards of glass on the steps, but dismissed it as being of no concern. The casket containing the trumpet of
Tarin Conn was tucked under her right arm and the tunnel entrance was only seventy strides beyond the bodies of the ten guardsmen killed earlier by Taltin.

She coughed and nearly gagged while breathing in what smelled very much like the odors that bubbled up in the swamp. She remembered them well, those gasses, and her mind flashed back to Duke Cantor and the men behind him holding what looked like empty glass jars.
“Dome shields!” she shouted.

Flames whooshed along the corridor with a roar as the swamp gasses ignited. For several minutes all she could see was orange-white tongues licking at her shield, and then the fire vanished, having consumed all of the gas. The flickering light was provided by Brandon DuCret, who did not raise his shield fast enough and was now roasting on the floor. It was the first time he failed to immediately obey an order.

Serena signaled her team to keep moving, ran beyond the ten dead guardsmen, and toward the tunnel entrance with the remainder of the infiltration team right behind her. She would need to lower her shield soon, if only to breath, yet pressed on until reaching her goal. She stopped and signaled everyone to go on in, that done, she entered and then cast a spell to seal the entrance.

Ferret, Duggan, Taltin, and SuTamkin ceased the potential for their shields. Serena hoped the assault team led by Brais was doing better. She was thrilled at having obtained the trumpet, but now just a little concerned about how many of her original twenty Talenteds were still alive, not that she cared for them individually, not all
of them, it was the numbers.

“That was close,” Ferret said after catching his breath. “I didn’t realize what it was we smelled. Good thing you did.”

“I didn’t stop to wonder why, I just followed orders,” Duggan added. “Too bad DuCret did not do the same.”

“We are not out yet,” SuTamkin stated the obvi
ous.

“Enough chatter. Let’s get back to the horses,” Serena ordered and matched action to words.

Several hundred strides more brought them to the above ground opening. Serena levitated up and out of the hole and waited for each team member to do the same. Ferret began a close scrutiny of the area. Serena raised her baton, shot a ball of light into the air, and realized something was wrong. They were only ten strides or so from the tree line, the horses were missing, the area was scorched, no doubt caused by those balls of pitch, and no sounds of battle assaulted her ears. She made her way to the tree line, but did not go out into the open. Fires were everywhere, in the grassy field, on the walls, and on the roof of the manor. Shadow figures were attempting to quench the flames, but she found no sign of her Talenteds or the one hundred and fifty sasquatches left under the command of Brais the Butcher, unless those burning lumps in the field were all that was left of the smelly beasts.

“You should have given me command of the assault team,” SuTamkin stated from directly behin
d her.

Perhaps, Serena thought. There was no question about it, this was bad. Where could they be? Surely they all were not dead. And, where were the horses?

The grasses in front of her parted and Ana Tigress crawled out. Her face and hands had second and third degree burns, what was left of her silks were covered in mud, and her hair was singed. She continued on her hands and knees until gaining the shelter of the trees and then stood up.

“Tigress, report,” Serena demanded.

“You left a fool in charge of the assault force,” she began and was about to be disciplined for the disrespectful tone, but was spared by SuTamkin.

“I could have told you that,” he said and gestured to the others. “Any one of us can see that. Tell us what we don’t know. Tell us what happened.”

Serena was considering using Obey Me on him again, but decided against it. She might need the fool and their seemed to be no sasquatches around to carry him.

“Brais ordered the sasquatches to attack, so they did even after he died, compelled to assault the walls until every last one of them were dead,” Tigress continued her report, while glaring at SuTamkin for interrupting her. “We learned early on this estate has extraordinary defenses. We were hit by fruit-sized balls of burning pitch hurled by a score or more of launchers, the existence of which I learned after having been engulfed in flames by one of them. I managed to raise my dome shield but not before getting burned.”

She summoned potential, was enveloped in a hazel glow, and the third degree burns vanished, and then cast another spell, causing the second degree burns to vanish. “That’s better. We damaged the walls, killed a good many guardsmen, and all was going well until Tatum and Carlson died while raining fire balls upon the commoners from above. Brais cast, Sonic Boom, at the walls, making himself a target, balls of flaming pitch struck his shield, bounced off and landed near your tunnel entrance. Meanwhile, royal bowmen crawled out into the grass and positioned themselves all around us, although none of us realized this at the time. When Brais cast his spell, they let loose their arrows and the fool died with one in his throat. Burton, Bursell, and Grendor killed the assassins in the grass but then died when a rain of arrows came from the bowmen on walls. I decided to stop fighting and wait for you, otherwise there would be no one left to report.”

Serena closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and wanted to scream, except the action would make her look childish in front of what was left of her team. This was a disaster. She hugged the casket to her breast, realized not all was lost, and drew encouragement from what success she did attain; the trumpet was in her
grasp. “What about the horses?”

“
Burton and Bursell’s mounts were taken by the commoners, all the rest are dead. I didn’t see what happened to yours,” Tigress replied.

Ferret came up and joined the conversation. “I found what remains of a horse, chunks of it anyway, ten strides to the north.”

“What do you mean; chunks of it?” Duggan asked.

“It was chewed up, eaten, probably by sasquatches. I’ve seen them feed and what is in those bushes looks to have been gnawed on by a bunch of the hairy beasts,” Ferret replied while looking Serena in the eyes.

“You ordered them to protect the hunting ground, kill and eat anything that tries to flee. The scorching of the area where we left our horses indicates balls of pitch landed near them, startled, they fled, or so it seems to me,” SuTamkin shared his unasked for opinion.

Serena wanted to slap the illegitimate son-of-a-dog. She suspected he was correct but that did not change how she
felt. “Gurrumble!” she shouted.

The huge male was probably nearby even though he had been ordered to return to the assembly point. Thinking about it more, Serena remembered her specific order was to
return when Gerroor does. If the alpha male was dead, then Gurrumble would stay in the area indefinitely. She closed her eyes, ignoring the accusing stares her team members were leveling at her.

Some tupelos parted and out stepped Gurrumble. In his right hand was a horse’s thigh, mostly gnawed to the bone, evidence of what happened to the team’s equine transportation. “Summon your pack,” Serena commanded after letting a s
igh escape, this was her fault.

The huge male let out a roar and after a quarter of a mark, one hundred and forty-three sasquatches arrived, some few of which were clutching meat in their paws. One was holding a half eaten human leg, that part worked out according to her plan, and she still had a respectable number
of the beasts at her command.

“There are not enough of us to safely summon the potential for teleportation, how are we going to get out of this swamp?” Taltin asked, and there was no trace of flattery in
his tone, a first for him.

Serena patted the casket. In her possession was a type two, level four, crescendo with six bolts of amplification, giving her command of seven bolts of potential, which was more than enough to complete the spell safely. It would leave her dehydrated but not terribly so and less so if she performed the Melody in concert with the remaining Talenteds. All she had to do was open the casket.

She placed the container on the ground without bothering to respond to the questioned posed to her or the other comments that had been made, she would deal with those in due time, especially those that sounded less than respectful. Summoning the life force energy for, Freeze, she focused on the latch. Two bolts of potential lanced from her baton and into the amulet. Frost formed in the air around the casket but the shield held. “Everyone, summon the potential for, Freeze. I am conducting,” she commanded.

All of the Talenteds suddenly glowed with potential and focused the energy at her. She combined the multi-colored beams and aimed them at the latch. More frost formed but the shield held. She ceased the potential. After cursing Della Lain, the swamp, Brais, and the world in general, she answered Taltin’s question. “We walk.”

Simon Trenca sat on the bow of the, Otter, a riverboat with two masts and four huge white sails. The hood of his black silk cloak had blown back and the wind was playing havoc with his sandy locks, but he did not mind, just kept brushing them out of his eyes. Twenty shirtless oarsmen sat idle at their stations. Normally they would be rowing against the current of the Gosian River, but the passengers of this boat were not typical and very much in a hurry. Members of the Eagle Guild dominated in number, forty in all, but members of the Stone Guild were a close second with thirty-five. The reason the rowers had nothing to do was the four members of the Zephyr Guild, whose wind spells filled the sails and sped the vessel up river against the current. Their destination was the former headquarters of the Serpent Guild, within Mount Gosian, which was currently being explored by over a thousand members of the Eagle Guild, and hundreds more of the Stone Guild.

Simon watched the bow slicing through the water and smiled. This was one of his dreams, to be out, away from Aakadon, doing things that mattered, and this mission fulfilled that desire. Only two members of the Willow Guild were on the boat, him and his mentor, Barnabas Galloway. He hardly believed it when the Senior Forester chose him. The Dem
filian born, Three-bolt Accomplished, recently celebrated the two hundred-nineteenth anniversary of his birth, and was one of the most respected members of the guild. He was stocky, clean-shaven with short white hair, and pale blue eyes. The old man did not look a day over sixty.