Priestess of War (The Bowl of Souls Book 10), page 19
“I . . . don’t think I’m supposed to do that,” Chi-Chi said.
“Well,” said Lenui, giving the goblin his widest gap-toothed grin. “We could kill you instead. And just walk up the trail to find him our own selves.”
“Oh,” said the goblin, thinking hard. “I will take you. I guess he can kill you if he needs to.”
“Fine,” said Bill, standing up. “We’ll go now. Untie his arms.”
“You’re not following this goblin into the dark alone,” Jan said.
“Dear, I am 637 years old. I fought the Dark Prophet himself. I can handle a nighttime stroll with a goblin,” Bill replied.
“’Sides, I’m goin’ with him,” Lenui said. “You go and see to that horse the troll scratched. Don’t need it gettin’ infected. When Swen and Dinnis get back, y’all get the wagons turned ’round. Don’t come lookin’ fer us unless we ain’t back by mornin’.”
“Are you certain this is how you want to handle this?” Bill asked.
Lenui untied the goblin’s arms. “Now you better not try runnin’ away. And no more pissin’ on folks. I’ll cave yer little skull in.”
The goblin narrowed its eyes at him. “You just follow close. Lots of holes you could fall into.”
Bill quickly ducked into his wagon. He returned with a small pack on his back and was carrying a walking staff that had a small light orb attached to the end. He tapped the orb to activate it and gave Lenui a nod. The two dwarves followed the goblin into the woods, their way illuminated by soft light.
The foliage was thick between the trees. They had to push their way past bushes and duck under branches as the goblin followed a path that they never would have found otherwise.
Lenui waited until they were out of earshot of the camp before speaking. “Alright, Old Bill. Now that we’re on the way, tell me who this Master Porthos is. At this point, I’m figgerin’ he’s a named wizard, but why go out of our way to meet him when there’s lots of wizards at the Mage School who could help?”
“Very well,” Old Bill said with a sigh. “Master Porthos is a very powerful witch.”
Lenui frowned. “I thought lady named wizards was called ‘Mistress’.”
“The term for a bewitching specialist is witch, whether male or female,” Bill said. Pushing a branch out of the way so that he could slip by. “Actually, I’m surprised you don’t recognize the name. He was there at the Battle of Thunder Gap with the rest of us. If not for him, you may not have been able to save the day.”
“Blasted . . !” Lenui swore as the branch swung back and caught him across the nose. The goblin laughed and if he had been close enough, he would have booted the nasty thing. He held his hand in front of his face protectively as they continued. “Yeah, well I was way too busy struttin’ ’round back then to notice the names of wizards. ’Sides, I try not to think of that battle very often. Too many bad memories.”
“I see,” said Bill. “Well after the Prophet ordered the ban on spirit magic Porthos, like Sarine, was one of those spirit magic wizards who had no elemental magic to fall back on. He had to go into hiding and this little piece of land is where he went to ground.”
“So . . . he a bondin’ wizard too?” Lenui asked.
“Careful, dwarves,” Chi-Chi interrupted, peering back at them with amused eyes. “There is pits all around us. Stay on the track if you don’t want to be dead.”
Though it was hard to see how a pit could be hiding among all this brush, Bill took care to step right behind the goblin. Lenui made sure to copy the old dwarf’s movements.
Bill cleared his throat. “No, Lenui. That would be horrible if we had just slaughtered a bunch of bonded animals. I imagine Porthos used his bewitching magic to control those beasts we fought. This is why he wouldn’t have been able to see who we were. I hope he isn’t too upset we slaughtered the creatures, though. We didn’t have much choice.”
“I figgered that much,” Lenui replied. “I was askin’ ’cause of how old he’s got to be. Hell, he’d have to be a lot older than two hundred years if he was named before the war. Human wizards don’t last that long ’less they’re bonded to somethin’ long-lived.”
“Oh. Well as for that . . .” Bill scratched his head before replying. “Porthos was Sarine’s second husband. After the war, he joined us in Khalpany for a few years before they-. Or he . . . well, they divorced. Sarine remained fond of him, though. Even after he moved out here, she sent him a regular box of Kyrkon’s goodies.”
“Elf magic,” Lenui said with a nod. That explained the wizard’s long life. “Fine. But if that’s the case, why weren’t you sure he was still alive?”
“Ah, that. About thirty years ago, they had a bit of a long distance tiff. Porthos stopped replying to letters and we stopped sending his packages,” Bill said. “To be honest, I am hoping he’s not still terribly miffed.”
Lenui let out a snort, ignoring the way it stung his broken nose. “Humans! Runnin’ off after a fight? Why a good fight’s just a precursor to a long night of lovin’!”
“Not far now!” said the goblin, glancing back at them.
Lenui leaned in towards Bill’s ear and said with his best attempt at a whisper. “Is it okay that we’ve been sayin’ all this stuff in front of him?”
“I heard that, too,” Chi-Chi replied.
“If he’s Porthos’ assistant, we haven’t discussed anything the old wizard doesn’t already know,” Bill replied. “You should be ready for anything when we get there, by the way. Porthos is a bit of an eccentric. Who knows what we’ll find?”
The goblin stepped out of the dense foliage and into an open area where the trees were spread much farther apart. A field of manicured brown grass stretched between the trees and in the distance, up a short incline, they could see the glow of a lamp burning behind a frosted window.
Standing between the dwarves and the wizard’s residence was a meadow full of forest creatures. There were more wolves and trolls, foxes and badgers, and perched in the limbs of the trees above them, various birds of prey looked down, their eyes eerily reflecting the light of Bill’s staff.
“What are you doing, bringing strangers here, Chi-Chi?” asked a perturbed voice.
A figure walked past the assembled animals and stepped into the light. He was a man of average build, with long pale hair. He wore a thick overcoat and deerskin pants and carried a nocked bow.
“They said they’re friends of Porthos,” the goblin said defensively. “They would’ve killed me if I didn’t bring them.”
The man looked at the goblin’s disheveled appearance and glanced back at them. “You didn’t have to be that rough with him. If you really are friends of Porthos, you should have known what he was.”
“To be honest, I wasn’t yet certain if Porthos was still alive,” Bill replied. “We had to capture Chi-Chi here to make sure.”
“And you killed old Mister Claw,” the man pointed out. “I liked that bear! Sure, if Porthos hadn’t been controlling him, he would’ve had me for breakfast, but you grow fond of the things!”
“Sorry, son,” Lenui said with a shrug. “You gotta kill a bear that attacks you.”
“I’m gonna go and change,” Chi-Chi said.
“Yeah, go clean up,” the man replied grumpily and the goblin slinked away.
Bill cleared his throat. “Let us make proper introductions. My name is Bill. I am an old friend of the master, and I’m here to ask for his help.”
The man cocked his head. “Yeah, Porthos just told me he knows you. He wants to know if Sarine is somewhere around.”
Bill gave the man an apologetic smile. “Sorry, but no. It’s just me. For now, anyway.”
The man nodded his head at Lenui. “And who’s this dwarf?”
“Name’s Lenui Firegobbler,” Lenui replied. “Most humans call me Lenny, though.”
“Porthos may remember him better as the ‘Hero of Thunder Gap’,” Bill added.
The man shrugged and shouldered his bow, putting the arrow away in its quiver. “He says you’re okay, then.” He held out his hand. “Name’s Bryon. I’m Porthos’ apprentice.”
“Really?” said Bill, shaking the man’s hand. “It’s good to know that he’s passing on his knowledge. How is he communicating with you right now?”
“Oh.” He gestured to the dagger he was carrying at his belt. It had a beautiful handle, silver with gold inlay. At the center of the hilt was Porthos’ naming rune. “He has me carry this around with me. The old wizard likes to watch things through my eyes. He doesn’t get around much anymore.”
“Why’s that?” Lenui asked, shaking Bryon’s hand. The man had a firm grip, but there was something just a little off about him. Lenui wasn’t quite sure what it was just yet. Something about his face.
“He’s old,” Bryon said. He squinted at Lenui in the dim light. “Did you know you have a bloody nose?”
“Oh,” said Lenui wiping his wet upper lip on the back of his sleeve. Being smacked in the face by that branch had caused it to bleed again. “It’s broke.”
The man leaned in close. “Yeah, it’s pretty bent. You want me to set it? I’m good at that sort of thing.”
“Well, my goal ain’t to be pretty,” Lenui said. Then he thought of Bettie’s reaction. “But go ahead.”
Bill brought the staff in closer so that the man could get a better look.
“This’ll hurt,” Bryon said, and reached out with both hands. He placed his thumbs on either side of Lenui’s nose and pressed in. Hard.
There was a crunch and Lenui saw sparks in his vision again. It took all of his willpower not to punch the man in his blasted gut. “Gah! Son of a friggin’ . . . turtle-faced, mustard-weaver!”
“Yeah, sorry about that. If I’d been born with elemental magic I could’ve healed it right up,” Bryon said with a slight shrug. “But I wasn’t. That’s why I’m here instead of the Mage School. The nose is straight, though. I used some blessing magic to reinforce it. Just don’t let it get hit again and it should stay straight.”
Bill glanced at him and chuckled. “It might even be straighter than it was before I broke it.”
Lenui blinked the sparks away. It still hurt, but it was easier to breathe now. “Uh, thanks, son.”
Bryon shrugged. “No problem. Come on. I’ll take you up to see the old man. He doesn’t want me to, but I think it’ll do him good to visit with friends.”
Bryon turned and walked up towards the house. Lenui gave Bill a questioning look, but the old dwarf just shrugged and followed the man. They walked between the unsettling stares of the bewitched wildlife.
Lenui’s skin itched at those cold eyes watching him. These kinds of animals weren’t supposed to sit so still when a dwarf walked by. It just wasn’t natural.
They reached the steps of the modest cottage and Lenui could tell that it was well cared for. The porch was clean and straight, not a crack in the wood, and there were pots of planted herbs covered with a thin mesh to keep them from freezing in the night.
The man opened the door and they entered a warm sitting room with padded chairs and a stoked fireplace. A deer was standing in front of the fireplace. A doe. It watched them with calm curiosity.
Bryon patted the doe’s head and picked up a lighted lantern off of a side table. He motioned them to follow him and walked through a doorway into the back. Lenui stared at the deer. Hesitantly, he reached out and petted the top of its head. It cocked its head and looked at him without fear.
“I’m dag-gum hungry,” Lenui told the thing, thinking of the pot of pepperbean stew he’d left back at the camp. “I could eat you whole right now. Don’t that worry you?”
The doe sniffed his leather armor and the red letter ‘F’ at the center of his chest. It certainly didn’t seem worried. He wondered if it knew what kind of beast this leather came from.
“Could be yer uncle fer all you know, dumb animal.” Shaking his head, Lenui petted it again, then followed after Bill and Bryon. They had gone down a short hallway. Bryon had opened a door and gone inside, carrying the lantern in with him. Lenui could hear them talking.
“Here they are, Master,” Bryon said. “And don’t you gripe at me. I told you I wasn’t gonna let you just hide behind my eyes.”
“Porthos,” said Bill, sounding genuinely surprised. “It’s . . . good to see you alive.”
Lenui walked into the room behind the old dwarf and stopped, speechless. Master Porthos was ancient. No, beyond ancient. He was lying in bed with his skeletal hands folded across his chest, withered and frail with pale, nearly translucent skin. A wisp of hair laid flat across his sagging scalp. His cadaverous face was fixed in a determined scowl focused on his young apprentice.
Bryon shook his head, refusing to pity his master. “No. Talk to these friends of yours yourself. I’m not speaking for you this time.”
Porthos’ thin lips pulled back from yellowed teeth. His voice was soft and papery. “There was a time when a wizard’s apprentice showed him respect.”
“If you want respect, change your own chamber pot,” Bryon replied. He noted Bill’s glance. “Sorry about that. When I became his apprentice nearly forty years ago, I didn’t know it was going to last this long.”
“Forty years?” Lenui asked, raising a bushy eyebrow. “You don’t look that old.”
“Oh. I’m a half-elf,” Bryon replied. He fingered his rounded ear and Lenui understood what he had found strange about the man. He had slightly elven features. “I just took after my mother’s side so you can’t tell it by the ears.” He sighed and gestured at his master. “But don’t waste time talking to me. He’s the one you’re here for.”
“Porthos,” said Bill again. “Sarine sent me to find you.”
“She did?” the old wizard said with a smile that somehow made his face seem more cadaverous. “Did she send you to deliver an apology before I died?”
Bill let out a regretful sigh. “No, but she did want me to tell you that she has forgiven you.”
The ancient man rolled his dull eyes. “Of course. Damn me, but I do still miss her. Even after all these years. There. Tell her I said that. Tell her . . . I forgive her too.”
“I will,” Bill said with a kind smile. “But, Porthos, I’m afraid that is not why I came either. I’m here about that evil in the mountains.”
“That.” Porthos shook his head slowly. “I sent Chi-Chi to warn off your little group. If I would have been able to see who you were, I would have had him use different language.”
“That weren’t no warning,” Lenui said. “They flat out attacked!”
The old eyes settled on him. “Lenui Firegobbler. Two hundred years older and still just as impetuous. He first warned you. Then, when you didn’t budge, my animals attempted to drive you off, scatter your horses. The purpose was to save your lives and keep anyone from bothering me. You were the ones who felt the need to kill.”
“This is great,” said Bryon with a smile. The half-elf was leaning back against the wall, his arms folded. “More words than I’ve heard him speak in months.”
“Oh, quiet, you,” the ancient master said with a weak wave of one hand.
“Back to that evil we came to speak with you about,” Bill said.
“Yes. Nasty business. A wraith, I believe,” Porthos said. “How it became so powerful, I have no idea.”
Bill frowned. “You have felt it even down here?”
“For several weeks now. It’s using flies and larvae to spread its control. I’m able to keep its little minions from this area and so far, I’ve been able to keep it from discovering me. Don’t worry. You are safe enough where you are.”
“Then it’s as we feared,” Bill said, looking at Lenui. “Its influence has already broken out of the mountain passes. At this pace, it could spread all over Dremaldria by the end of summer.”
“Yeah, but we’re gonna stop the blasted thing first,” Lenui said confidently. “What did he mean by calling it a wraith, though?”
“It’s a rare phenomenon,” Bryon explained. “If a powerful spirit magic wizard dies, sometimes their magic refuses to go on with them. It can wander around causing havoc. Especially, with bewitching magic. It can cause the local animals to go crazy.”
“So like an elemental,” Lenui said, thinking back to Justan and the Scralag in his chest. “But fer spirit magic.”
“Precisely,” said Porthos. “So you can calm yourselves. These things happen from time to time. It’s difficult to deal with, but wraiths use up their power fairly quickly. A few more weeks and it will die out on its own.”
“Porthos,” said Bill. “This isn’t some small time wizard’s spirit we’re dealing with. Remember the tales of Mellinda. The Dark Goddess?”
The ancient master frowned. “You mean the Troll Queen? She was destroyed centuries ago.”
“Not destroyed,” said Lenui. “Just imprisoned. She got loose and we tried to kill her last summer, but . . . seems it didn’t quite work. Her magic done high-tailed it up to the mountains.”
“Do you see?” said Bill. “This is a far greater problem than you have imagined. To make things worse, the Dark Prophet is trying to find a way to return.”
“But how is that possible?” Porthos said. He tried to sit up, but couldn’t quite manage it. “You saw him destroyed. John did it himself!”
“Yes,” said Bill, a mournful expression on his face. “I was there. I saw his body twisted and burned. But he found some way to cling to existence. During that kerfuffle last summer that Lenui was referring to, the Academy and the Mage School managed to stop his plans for receiving a new body.
“But now this new evil has appeared. A black lake full of those larvae you have been sensing. Porthos, I’m telling you, the Dark Prophet is somehow behind it. Up until the end of winter, the evil was just building, preying on the goblinoids in the peaks. But the Dark Prophet sent a servant of his own to take control of it. Probably one of his priestesses. We haven’t been able to discover who, but whoever they are, they are looking to conquer! Even now, an army assembled by the Academy and Mage School are advancing on its location.”
