Black Kerthon's Doom, page 15
"I don't want to hear your words anymore." His eyes darted around the room.
"You must. You must face reality. It is part of growing up. You do want to grow up to be High King?"
"Of course." He tried to jump up and run but Kaell pushed him down. Kaell winced from the pain in his shoulder and he knew it had begun to bleed again.
"Of course," Kaell repeated softly. "I am your only friend. You must trust me." Trust me, trust me. He cast a small spell and Ransal froze in place, then slowly relaxed, and listened to Kaell's voice. Kaell smiled at the nodding head of the next High King.
"I felt something," said Prosty, tilting his head as if listening. "Faint, though. Not a large spell."
"Can you pinpoint it?"
"Difficult, but not impossible."
"Where?"
"It seems to be in the east wing but it wasn't clear. Something was blocking it and it didn't last long."
"I don't know of any hiding place suitable in the east wing," said Michak. "Perhaps it is a hidden passage after all."
"It does appear to be the case."
"Pinpoint it." He turned to a guard. "Fetch Mulane and send him after us. Come, Prosty. Let's put an end to your rival and former partner." He grabbed Prosty by the arm and pushed him ahead of him.
"Your father is plotting to kill you," Kaell's voice droned. "He feels the threat to his rule. You are better suited to be High King than he is and he fears you. He would rather kill you than step from his throne a few years early. He will rule past his prime and the Empire shall fail. He fears you, he will kill you."
When Ransal woke up he was in his bed and he wasn't sure if Kaell had been a dream. But he was positive that he had no friends in the palace. He never had any friends his own age and he realized the men who had claimed to be his friends did so because of his father. He would repay them all.
There was a soft tap on his door.
He did not answer and the door opened noiselessly. It was Chraset. Ransal almost relaxed when he saw his old friend but he was still bitter toward his father.
"What do you want?" He turned toward the wall.
"Such manners are not becoming the next High King."
"I shall never be High King, Father couldn't stand it."
"Oh and where does this mood arise from? These are stronger words than you have spoken before. What has dropped your father in your eyes?"
"Look around you, Chraset. He does not care for me. He wanted Mantan to succeed him, not me. He won't let me be High King."
"He only has to die, and then you shall be High King." Chraset was surprised at how angry Ransal was. He was usually more deliberate.
"He'll kill me first."
"Don't give him the chance." Chraset had said it. Now it was Ransal's move. For good or ill, this was the time. All the long planning has come to this. It was ironic that in this instance, the goals of Kaell and Gareth were the same.
Ransal looked at the gardener. The man was tall and expressionless and his words were without emotion. Chraset had a good position and earned high pay from his extra duties. He had no obvious gain to be made if Michak died. Besides, Chraset had just saved the High King's life. But he had been so helpful with Mantan. He was quite possibly, Ransal's only friend.
"What do you suggest?"
"I have a poison which cannot be traced. I have no business in the High King's presence without a summons but you can see him at any time. Just pour a small amount into his wine and you shall be High King."
"I don't know. Seems too cold-blooded."
"A High King must be cold-blooded. There is no other way to rule."
"I cannot kill my father."
"Ask him how he came to the throne." He paused and watched Ransal. "Besides, you have just said he will kill you. If you hesitate, he surely will kill you. An High King cannot be indecisive. You weren't indecisive about Mantan. Here, I'll leave the poison on the table. The rest is up to you, your Highness."
Chraset closed the door as quietly as he opened it and Ransal felt drowsy and wondered if he had been dreaming again, but no, there was the vial on the table. The poison that would make him High King. Perhaps he should test it. A little in someone drink. Prosty, Mulane, Bayernal! Bayernal would be perfect. He would be the only one who might know what it was. With him out of the way there would be no risk.
He tried to find Bayernal but was not successful. He stopped at his father's suite and found it unlocked and unguarded, which was unusual. He wondered if Chraset had a hand in the ease of entry. Ransal moved quickly, found a decanter near the bed, and emptied the contents of the vial into the decanter. There was no one in the corridor and he crept back to his room, heedless of the slender shadow watching him.
"This wall appears to be the closest to where the spell came from. It was so small that I can't pick up any trace of it now."
"All the same," said Mulane. "We will start here."
"Won't the noise send him off and running?"
"I've posted guards in every conceivable spot. We have your friend in a tight place."
"He's no friend of mine."
"So you say. Still, I will place a guard with you to keep you out of danger while we work. It's only a formality of course."
"Of course," said Prosty. He stood aside next to a tall Calendian soldier who did not return his smile. Prosty closed his eyes and tried to search beyond the wall. He had to move slowly and by the time, he had completed the sweep there was no one there. But there were articles that held the aura of Kaell. "He's been in there, but he's gone."
"I expected that," said Mulane. "We will search his lair and uncover his passages so they will not be useful to him again. The main objective is to force him out into our hands."
"Although he's not a great wizard he is potent enough to get by a few guards."
"We shall see. I trained these men myself," Mulane said coolly. He stepped toward Prosty. The memory of his imprisonment was crisp.
"Restrain yourselves," said Michak. "We need both of you to complete the task at hand. We must find him soon. Horeth has not reported any success in the search for Gareth. Horeth might still be north of Rhath for all the information I receive. We must have some information. I do not want to be caught unprepared by any rebels who have survived the attack."
"Nantitet is a long way on foot for the rebels," said Mulane. "But it can be done."
"Have you seen Didran?" asked the High King.
"Not for a while," said Mulane. "His men are on the other side of the palace."
"I sent for him. Where is he?"
The wall had been chipped enough to allow the soldiers to begin to squirm through to the interior. Torches were passed through and Mulane followed. He stuck his face out of the hole. The dusty passage was a maze of cobwebs and his men brushed them aside as they walked. There were definite footprints ahead of his men. Two sets; one smaller than the other. One booted like Kaell's, the other a sandal such as the High King wore. Mulane frowned.
"We will head south. The passage seems to go on for some distance. This place shall be guarded and we shall see you on the other end."
"Good," said Michak. "Come Prosty. We shall see what Mulane flushes out. Keep alert. I do not want that wizard attacking us with our guard down. I have seen the power the two of you wield and I do not relish the consequences."
"Kaell! You shouldn't be here. The High King is turning the palace upside down looking for you. Even my men are searching for you." The slender man with the pockmarked face smiled at the wizard. He had a large ring of keys at his waist and a long knife in his hands that he pulled across the whetting stone.
"I know that, Didran. But what better place to hide than the High King's own dungeon. I'll use the one next to Parean. I wish to talk with him."
"Risky. He doesn't trust you and if wind of your predicament reaches him, he may start shouting."
"Then you will have to silence him. I do not want to take chances, but sometimes the choice is not available."
There was a clang as the door shut and it echoed through the dungeon. Then a low chuckle began and Didran heard the hiss of the hot coals. And he cringed as Parean cried out.
Chapter 12
The sun was hot and he followed Scithers without a word. He did not know why but he had to follow the sorcerer. Something was not right but there were no words for him to describe it as if part of his mind had been wiped clean. Terrible voices cried in his head, rending his thoughts and spinning his balance. A bony hand grabbed him and steadied him. He was lost within himself; a stranger to himself. The screams of Kerthon burned his eyes.
He did not know when Scithers joined him. He had been walking southward, in the hope of rejoining Gareth when the pale face of the black wraith appeared in front of him and Macelan followed. He did not know why but he had no choice. The grinning skull of Scithers led him on. Macelan tried to ask questions, tried to joke, tried to make a noise of any kind. When he opened his mouth, all he could do was squawk in a dry pinched voice. Scithers turned and smiled, pulling back all the chalky skin on his skull. Macelan kept silent after that.
The dark man led him over the rolling hills south to Nantitet.
The rebels came to the last hill before the Elihu River east of Rhath. There had been no sight of soldiers and Gareth was troubled from the uncharacteristic absence of patrols.
"They must be expecting us. This is usually a heavily patrolled area."
"You worry too much," said Daura.
"They always patrol here. I do not understand what they are doing if it doesn't mean an ambush."
"We just might have given them the slip," said Brice.
"They would not expect us to get this far," added Daura.
"No," said Gareth. "They are always prepared for any situation. They would not let us escape easily. Horeth would have alternate plans to capture us."
"There is something wrong," said Neheva. She was looking down the hill. "I will go and investigate. Everyone stay put." She moved off to the east.
"What do you think she's up to?" asked Mira.
"I certainly don't know," said Gareth. "Perhaps her confidant, Serada could tell us."
"I know nothing," said Serada, his voice rising.
"You have been very quiet since that night," said Gareth, biting off his words. "Perhaps you have fallen to the same fate as Macelan."
"No, I am my own man, but Neheva bothers me and I don't know why."
"She's a witch," said Daura.
"Besides that. There is something happening for which she has waited centuries and I do not think it will be beneficial to us."
"You do not encourage me," said Gareth. "It was bad judgment which led me to take you and Macelan with us. I should have killed you then and there and we wouldn't be in this trouble."
"I did not volunteer for your rebellion!"
"Why did you come to us? Who sent you?" Gareth stepped toward Serada but Brice held him back.
"Gareth!" cried Daura. "How could you say that?"
"My plans were ripening. We were close to taking over the throne. Then they came and everything went wrong."
"Coincidence. That's all," said Daura. "You are overtired."
"Overtired! I am not overtired. That is your answer for everything! My plans have gone sour and too many lives have been lost. Mark my words, Serada. I am watching you." He grumbled to himself, hopped over a log, glanced back at Serada and hid behind a mound of dirt to see what Neheva was doing. He saw her black shape glide from tree to tree. She moved without a sound and Gareth could not take his eyes off her. She did not seem to have substance and her clothes did not ripple in the breeze; instead, they floated on unknown currents. There was something that moved him when he thought of her, something that defied words. He thought he was dancing with her during a warm summer night and a tune came to his head and he saw her smiling at him. He shook his head and saw the dark figure wave at him and she was gone.
He watched longer and saw movement to Neheva's left. Red figures. Soldiers! She was drawing them off. He retreated to the group.
"She has moved quite far. I could not see her anymore but I did see a couple soldiers following her. I don't like it. Something is not right. There are too few. I expected to find a squadron."
A sudden noise behind and to their right revealed soldiers with their swords drawn and silent. Horeth stood before them. A couple rebels moved to repel them but were quickly struck down. The other rebels backed away, but did not drop their weapons.
"It is foolish to resist, Gareth," said Horeth. "We have the advantage. Do not risk any more of your follower's lives. I prefer you dead, but the High King does not, and alas, it is his will that must prevail. For now."
"I can think of better men to surrender to, in fact, anyone would do. You have always been a liar and a thief, cousin. I suppose that qualifies you for your current position."
Horeth reddened. He sheathed his sword and spat.
"I shall not kill you, yet. Your fate is for the High King to decide. But I do not doubt that you will be given to me and I will treat you as you deserve."
Suddenly, Brice swung his sword and beheaded the nearest Calendian soldier. The rebels burst into action and met the startled soldiers head on. Gareth clubbed Horeth with the flat of his blade and led the way towards the river. Daura ran after him. Brice killed another soldier and then he encountered two more.
The first thrust was blocked by his sword but the other's blade caught Brice on the hairline and peeled back skin and hair. Brice thrust his sword through the second soldier and rolled on the ground to avoid the still active sword of the remaining Calendian soldier. He hopped to his feet like a cat. He feinted a strike to the man's head and then cut his legs out from under him. A quick thrust finished him and Brice was running after Gareth. The figures were far ahead but the blood blurred his vision. He gritted his teeth and ran.
Gareth could see the boats left by Horeth's men and there were only three men defending them. But they saw the rebels running toward them and they began knocking holes in all the boats and that urged Gareth's efforts for speed. By the time he crashed into the first guard, only two boats remained and the rebels climbed into them and paddled out in the current.
The soldiers were not far behind but could only send arrows after the fleeing rebels who were soon out of range.
"How many did we leave behind?" shouted Gareth.
"Ten at least," said Brice, wiping the blood from his brow. "But I haven't counted them all. Mira did not make it to the boats."
The river moved quickly and the riverbank changed from the dry grasses to the woodland as they neared the long slopes down to the crossroads to Nantitet. The sun was warm upon them, but they resisted sleep.
"How far do you think we should stay in the river?" asked Daura.
"Today and most of tomorrow," said Gareth. "We are far from the crossroads. It will be dark before we reach the halfway point between Rhath and Mayse. Rest as much as possible. Tomorrow everyone must keep a watch for good places to disembark. I want to leave the river a couple miles before the crossroads."
"You still plan to march to Nantitet?" asked Daura.
"I've no choice. Our forces were small to begin with and now they are a handful. I must defeat the High King from within his palace or I will not. It would take too long to raise even a small army. And with Horeth chasing me I won't have enough time to recruit anyone."
"Why didn't you kill him?" asked Brice.
"I don't want to talk about it."
The river weaved through the rolling hills and trees clustered along its banks. The clear sky was not welcome by mid- afternoon when the sun and its reflections off the water burned bare skin and strained eyes. Daura borrowed cloaks to cover herself when she wasn't paddling but the heat brought her to a near faint. Brice found his throbbing head to be unbearable but he did not ask for relief from his paddling shift. When it was his turn to relax, he slumped over unconscious and it wasn't until after nightfall that he awoke, his scalp had been tended by Daura.
They continued south until darkness settled in around them. The boats were tied again to the bank and the rebels slept in their boats, they would take no chances on land. Gareth would have continued but with nightfall the clouds formed and the moonlight was not bright. The shadows on the river were treacherous and they had run aground once and had to rock the boat off the bar. It was then that they decided to stop for the remainder of the night.
They were well out of the main current of the river and the gentle rocking of the boats welcomed sleep to the rebels. There were two sentries, one in each boat and they sat in the shadows cast by the trees on the bank. Their long wispy branches hung low and danced slowly in the night air.
By mid-afternoon the following day, they had left the river and two hours later, they passed the crossroads and entered the coastal forest between Mayse and Nantitet. The air was cooler and clouds more prevalent along the coast. In two days, they would be in Nantitet.
"Keep a watch on the door. I don't expect trouble, here, not this soon. But our intentions will be revealed if anyone walks in unexpectedly. Once we are prepared, we will strike quickly and not allow the High King to react. By next week Ransal shall be High King and he shall be mine."
"Excellent, Kaell," said Didran. "I shall look forward to it. What do you want my men to do?"
"I want to know Mulane's movements and plans. He must be removed first and then the High King shall be ours. Spy out the guard posts and intervals of changes. Let me know what the boy, Ransal does and bring any news of the rebels."
