Dragonvein - Book Three (30 page)

Martok bent down to rub his aching thighs. Genuine fatigue was something he hadn’t experienced in a very long time. He could feel Ethan trying to regain control of his body; the danger was now gone for the time being, and the young man knew it. But he could not hand control back just yet. In fact, if he had his way, he would never do so. The gifts bestowed to Ethan were beyond even what Martok had received during his time. The dragons had shared their blood - their very power – with him. And though that power was slowly being drained away, it felt unlike anything Martok had ever known.

And the elves…they had bound their spirit to his. Even though Martok had been a great friend to them, they had never offered him such a wondrous gift. And it was one wasted on the likes of Ethan. He had no idea of how to use it. His thoughts turned to Kat. The love of such a magnificent woman was wasted on the boy as well.

The desolate land he was trekking through made the desert look like a paradise. Dust and ash churned with each step, threatening to choke the breath from his lungs. This place had existed even in his time, but back then it had been an untamed jungle filled with dire beasts and savage tribes of wild men. No one knew how long they had survived there, or why they had chosen to live like animals. But seeing as how they never ventured far from their jungle homes, no one really bothered to find out. The desert beyond held nothing of interest, and aside from a few birds and small rodents and reptiles, it was uninhabited.

Occasionally he had seen the skull of what looked like a dog – though larger and with six inch fangs. Also, there were a few scattered trails here and there. But so far he had seen no living creature other than the swarms of insects that existed solely to plague travelers.

After a time he considered whether he should use magic to travel more swiftly, but rejected the idea. What he was looking for was beyond Shinzan’s sight. He was certain the Emperor would be able to sense any use of magic - even this far away from his palace - and he did not want to reveal his location, or the direction in which he was traveling. Though it was unlikely Shinzan would attempt a personal confrontation, he would certainly send someone to discover why Martok was here and what he was looking for. Not that he was entirely sure himself.

He recalled the collars that Umbra had possessed and a shiver shot down his spine. Vile memories stirred from seeing it again after so many centuries were difficult to dismiss. Even now the moment of his betrayal was still fresh in his mind, particularly the cold look in her eyes as she stared down at his helpless form - eyes that before then had always looked upon him with nothing but love and devotion.

Soon after slaying the dragon, he had tried to locate any trace of magic within the Shadow Lands. And just as he'd suspected, he had found it. That Shinzan had not been able to, told him much. But of course, by the time the Emperor had arrived only five-hundred years ago, wards were only rarely being used. He would not be attuned to their energy. Back during Martok’s time however, they were a universal skill known to every mage in Lumnia.

He knew he was now close to what he sought, though pinpointing the exact location was proving elusive. The jagged landscape didn’t help matters. He had already found half a dozen caves, all of them perfectly concealed by the erratic rock face surrounding them. None had held anything more than a few scattered bones and some rubble.

As the sun began to set, Martok seriously considered giving up the search. He needed to return quickly before Kat did something stupid like attempt a rescue. He pushed the image of her from his mind. She was a distraction he did not need at present. There would be time for that later.

  Just as the sun was sinking, he caught sight of a small fissure in the ground a few yards away. Closer examination showed it to be a crudely hewn staircase leading into the darkness. Smiling, he took a few tentative steps down. At once he could feel the power of the wards radiating from below.

After descending further, he produced a ball of white light to illuminate the way. Such feeble magic would be undetectable to Shinzan. In any case, the wards here would most likely deaden any sign even if he were to use more powerful spells – though he hoped this would not be necessary.

The stairs ended at an archway leading into a chamber roughly twenty feet square. The walls were bare, though numerous footprints left undisturbed in the still air spanned the entire length of the dusty floor. He paused for a moment to examine these. Of all those heading inwards, only two sets led back out again. One set, he could guess, belonged to whoever had given the collars to Umbra. And the other must be that of the mage who had set the wards.

At the far end of the chamber, another archway connected a narrow passage. Before continuing along this, Martok decided to risk a protection spell. Should he be set upon, it would give him time to defend himself. Wards could be extremely dangerous when created by a mage who fully understood their power.

The passage twisted and turned unpredictably, narrowing in places, then becoming wide enough for several men to walk abreast. After nearly half a mile it ended in a large chamber which, judging from the rough walls and uneven floor, had probably been formed naturally. Scattered around were the remains of more than a dozen men, their weapons still clutched in their hands. At the far end, a twisted iron gate had been pulled from its hinges. Beyond that was yet another passage.

Martok examined the room closely. Aside from the remains, there was nothing remarkable. The wards were not far ahead now – just a few yards beyond the broken gate was his guess. He approached, stopping a few paces away to send a ball of light into the darkness. But as it crossed the threshold, the light blinked out. He cast another, this one much stronger. But again, it was immediately extinguished.

After strengthening the protection spell, he stepped closer.

“Why have you come here?” asked a hollow voice that sounded as if it were coming from within the passageway.

Martok stepped back and stretched out his hands. “
Calat Hia
.”

Just inside, the ghostly figure of a man appeared. He was about six feet tall and clad in a long pale robe. “Why have you come?” he repeated.

Martok considered his response. “I am here to release you.”

“You are not my father. Come no further.”

“Your father sent me.”

“You lie!” The man's voice had become shrill. “You are here to kill me. Be gone or die!”

“I am not here to kill you,” Martok insisted. “I am here to help you.”

There was something familiar about the apparition's face. Something to do with the eyes. He reached out and felt the power of the wards. Even
they
felt oddly familiar.

Only his protective spell saved him from being consumed by the inferno of blue flames that suddenly shot straight at him. Even so, he was forced back several paces. There was barely time to hurriedly cast another protection spell before a second blast reached him. It was already clear there was no way for him to defeat this alone. To do so would necessitate destroying the wards completely, along with whatever it was they were protecting. He backed away until he was just inside the chamber entrance. The attacks continued, though he was now able to deflect them with comparative ease. Still, the power was impressive. It was little wonder that all but one of the men who had come here for plunder had perished.

It wasn’t until he was several yards further down the passage that the attacks ceased completely. He felt again for the wards. They had not faltered or weakened in the slightest. He sat on the floor cross-legged and closed his eyes. Softly, he began chanting an incantation.

After a few minutes, he opened his eyes and smiled. He would need help. But now he knew what the wards were protecting. It was indeed a
treasure
– though not in the form of gold or jewels. No. This treasure was far more precious. He stood and made his way back to the surface. It would take two days for him to walk far enough away to be comfortable with using magic. Until then, he would need to exercise patience.

Ethan’s spirit was pressing upon him again. But he was still not prepared to relinquish control.

“Stop this, you little fool,” he muttered. “It’s not time.”

Taking a deep breath, he headed due south. His will would hold. He would not allow Ethan to ruin his plans. His mind wandered again to Kat. He would not give up on her either. She was a prize he knew he was destined to possess. Even if she didn’t.

Shinzan’s eyes burned with barely contained fury. His dragon was dead and Ethan had escaped. How could he have allowed this to happen? He had woefully underestimated Martok. And now the mage was far beyond his reach.

The mangled body of Jassa lay at his feet – stripped bare and with every inch of her flesh soaked in blood. Shinzan sighed and rubbed his temples. A wave of regret washed over him. Where would he find another woman like her? Anger was a feeling that most times he enjoyed experiencing. But this time it had cost him something he enjoyed far more.

Vraylic entered the hall. As his gaze fell on the body, tears sprang forth and it was all he could do to continue forward.

“Dispose of this,” Shinzan commanded.

Vraylic dropped to his knees beside the corpse and clutched Jassa's hand. “Why?” he asked.

“Are you questioning me, you worthless dog?”

All fear was gone from Vraylic's eyes. He no longer cared what happened. “You’re a monster.”

Shinzan laughed. “You have no idea how right you are. And I will pardon your words as I know how much you cared for her. But do not forget to whom you speak. And should you no longer place any value on your own life, consider that you have quite a large family. Should I send for them?”

The threat was sufficient to make Vraylic stiffen and instantly stifle his sobs. “No, Your Majesty. Forgive me. I will remove the body at once.” He lifted Jassa into his arms and, with immeasurable sorrow etched into his face, carried her away.

“And send in General Hronso on your way out,” Shinzan called after him.

A minute later, Hronso entered. He stopped a few feet from the throne and bowed. “You wish to see me, Your Majesty?”

“We have a new enemy,” Shinzan told him. “One that needs to be dealt with as quickly as possible.”

“Are you speaking of the one who killed the dragon?”

“And how would you know about that?” the Emperor asked, his irritation obvious.

“I witnessed the battle,” he replied. “Though unless I am mistaken, it was Ethan Dragonvein who was responsible.”

“You
are
mistaken,” Shinzan shot back, contempt dripping from every word. “Do you seriously imagine Ethan Dragonvein could have dispatched a beast of such power? No. This enemy I speak of is far more cunning. And far more powerful.”

Hronso lowered his eyes. “Forgive my ignorance, Your Majesty. But the mage I saw looked identical to Ethan Dragonvein. If he was in fact someone else –”

Shinzan’s hand shot up, silencing the general. “His name is Martok. I am sure you must have heard of him. And before you assault me with idiotic questions, I am well aware that he is in the form of Ethan Dragonvein. How that is possible is nothing you need to concern yourself with. However, I do require your skill and cunning.”

He dropped to one knee. “How may I serve?”

“Martok is more than just a powerful mage. He is a great commander and tactician. If given the opportunity, he will undoubtedly defeat our armies in short order. Though this would obviously pose no real threat to me personally, it would be…inconvenient.”

As he spoke, Shinzan could see the disbelief in the general’s eyes. This further fueled the anger that had long been boiling just beneath the surface.

“Of course, Your Highness. If you wish, I can take personal command of our forces. He will find me to be an opponent not easily conquered.”

Shinzan smiled. “Indeed. Take whatever you need from the palace and go at once.”

Hronso bowed low and quickly left the hall.

Once alone, Shinzan leaned back and shut his eyes. The pressure from his constant struggle with the dragons was causing his head to pound. He cursed his human form for its frailties, though it served his purpose well enough. It was the emotions that he hated the most. They raged through him like a river after the snow had melted from the mountainside. Hate, anger, and lust had all become welcome companions. But anxiety and fear. These he could not - would not - tolerate. Martok, Ethan, or whoever was in possession of that form, must die. Next time he had the opportunity to ensure this, he would not hesitate.

He looked down at the smear of blood where Jassa’s body had been, and for a second time felt regret. Another emotion he detested. Pushing himself up, he stormed from the hall and out into the garden. He approached the fountain in the center, but hesitated a few feet away. Did he really want to see her again? Whenever he did, it always caused strange memories to surface. Memories not his own, but those belonging to the man whose body he now inhabited.

Yes, he would see her, he decided. With a single wave of his hand, the fountain levitated until it was ten feet in the air, revealing a spiral staircase of polished jade leading down into the secret chamber below. He descended the stairs, allowing the fountain to drop back to its original position as he went. The fifteen foot square chamber was dimly lit by blue rajni stones set upon gold pedestals placed in each corner. Before him was a crystal laid out on a white marble slab. Inside this, the naked form of a woman could be clearly seen.

Shinzan stood gazing at her for several minutes. Her beauty always stirred something deep inside him. When he'd first thought to place her down here, he imagined it to be prompted by nothing more than the residual emotions of Praxis Dragonvein. But since then he'd come to realize that this was only partly true.

“Illyrian,” he whispered. “Soon you shall join me. And this time, I will not be denied.”

A fiendish little smile formed. Yes. He would break her at last. Then he could finally rid himself of the torment that continued to plague him. His victory over Illyrian would set things to rights.

He loved her…he hated her…and in the end, he would see her grovel and beg at his feet.

* * * * *

Vraylic gently placed Jassa’s body on the bed in his room. He wanted dearly to bring her to his home in the
doldrums
, but Shinzan had forbidden him to return there. Instead, he was being forced to live in a tiny room close to the guards’ quarters. It was dingy and uncomfortable, but at least it was well away from the throne room.

“Look what he did to you, my poor sweet girl,” he said between sobs. 

After collecting a bucket of water and a sponge, he began cleaning the blood from her body. Once this was done, he took out a simple house dress he'd managed to smuggle from the servants’ quarters. Jassa had always been more comfortable in simple attire. Though he had bought her many exquisite gowns during their time together, she rarely wore them except when he specifically requested her to do so.

By the time he'd returned from the five kingdoms, he'd hoped that Shinzan would have grown weary of her, as he had done quite quickly with all of his other concubines. Though he feared he would have broken her spirit, he was certain that his love could heal her. He would take her far from this terrible place. They would find a safe haven where no one would ever find them and spend the rest of their days together in peace and love. But Jassa would not allow the Emperor to break her. He had never imagined the depth of her strength.

The first day he had returned, Shinzan forced her to beat him with a wooden mallet until he was unconscious. Then he was made to watch as ten men ravaged her repeatedly. He could still hear their vile laughter at night when he was alone in his room. But the look on her face had been as stone throughout. No fear. Not a hint. She would not give them the satisfaction. Only an almost imperceptible spark of love in her eyes when she glanced in his direction kept him from going completely mad. 

Satisfied with his preparations, Vraylic carried her from the palace to the outskirts of Noel. There, a crematory had been built to dispose of the hundreds of victims to die from the Emperor’s cruelty. Today, the smoke stacks were still and the building deserted.

After placing Jassa on a wooden table, he took great care to clean every inch of the cremation chamber. He would not have her ashes mingle with those of another. Once finished, he spoke his final words to his departed love.

“I will stay as quiet as a mouse,” he promised, brushing the hair from her face. “I will bide my time. I will not let him kill me. I swear to you, my precious girl, that I will wait patiently. Then, when the time is right, I will have vengeance for both of us.” After kissing her lips, he lifted her into the chamber.

It took several hours for the body to burn and for the chamber to cool sufficiently. But Vraylic didn’t move a muscle until he was able to gather every last trace of her ashes and place them in a leather pouch tucked away in his belt.

“I will bide my time,” he repeated quietly.

With that, he started back toward the palace…and Shinzan.