Shadow of the Otherverse (The Last Whisper of the Gods Saga Book 3) (36 page)

Eventually, when it became obvious that he and Alicia were superfluous to the current discussions, they excused themselves to prepare for their next task: a brief trip to the south. The situation at Sussaman had to be resolved. Sorial was prepared to execute Ferguson but his primary goal was to make contact with Warburm and the leader of the settlement, Yuman, who went by the title of “First Brother.” Alicia knew him from her stay there. Her familiarity with Sussaman, limited though it was, was the primary reason he had asked her to come along. She had agreed to avoid another separation and to make sure he didn’t lose a body part that might have unfortunate consequences for their marriage.

Myselene had endorsed their journey only after being lobbied by Sorial and Rexall. Both believed that the situation in Sussaman had to be resolved before the battle started. It was unclear how a small, non-military settlement of several hundred people - now swelled to more than two-thousand with the inclusion of the refugees - could create a problem for Obis but if Ferguson had flipped his allegiance, the potential of a hindrance, no matter how remote, had to be eliminated. The prelate couldn’t be underestimated. The opportunity to remove him was there; now was the time to take advantage of it. Sorial was reasonably certain Ferguson wouldn’t be expecting an attack - not now, not there.

The trip took a little over four hours with Sorial traveling more slowly than if he had been alone. They took two breaks. Although talking wasn’t possible while they were traveling, they worked out a simple system whereby Alicia would squeeze his hand if she needed to surface.

“It’s more physically demanding than I expected,” she said during one of those breaks, her breath steaming in the windy, frigid air. It was a cold, clear day, with The Broken Crags visible peeking over the edge of the southern horizon. With the first of the year having come and gone, it was officially Winter. Even in Vantok, it would be chilly. Sorial wondered if the city would see its first snowfall in years.

“The first few times I did it, I moved slowly and had to rest a lot. I used to ride the rock wyrm because it could move faster and took less effort. But I’ve gotten used to it. Like most magic, it’s all about practice and repetition.”

“Kosterbus would agree with you.”

“You’ve got to tell me more about him. From what you’ve said, he was an interesting fellow.”

“As a person, he was probably an asshole. But he was a good scholar and I learned a lot from his theories. Things I need to teach you.”

They emerged less than a mile up the road from Sussaman and approached on foot, their priestly robes providing a suitable disguise. They were wrapped in furs although that was more for show than necessity. Both were largely immune to the weather conditions as a result of their magic.

The streets of Sussaman were strangely deserted for an early afternoon. In a place like this, where the residents were accustomed to harsh Winter conditions, this wasn’t what Sorial had expected. His magical senses told him that the settlement’s residents were inside their houses and a large number of people - presumably the Vantok refugees - were gathered in an area just west of the main village. Looking in that direction, he could see the haze of smoke from the huge fires used for warmth and cooking.

Alicia led him toward the First Brother’s house. On the way, they saw a man outside gathering firewood and approached him.

“Good afternoon, my son,” said Sorial, adopting the attitude of a priest. Having encountered many of them over the years during his time spent in the stable, he knew how to impersonate one.

“Afternoon,” returned the man. “If you’ll excuse me, my fire’s burning low and I have to get this wood inside.” He clearly wasn’t in the mood for a conversation.

“We’re visitors from Obis. What has happened in Sussaman that all is so quiet?”

“War’s comin’. An’ we’ve suffered a terrible loss aforehand. His Eminence, the High Prelate Ferguson, the Prophet of the Lost Gods, was foully murdered by one of his own men. Now, if’n you’ll excuse me…”

Now the deserted streets and lack of activity made sense. This was a settlement in mourning. Sorial, however, found it hard to contain his relief.
Someone’s finally done it
. He suspected he knew who. Warburm would qualify as one of Ferguson’s men, perhaps the only one with the skill and fortitude to do what the situation demanded.

Their knock on the door to Yuman’s house was answered by the First Brother, the only one in residence. He looked the same to Alicia as he had a year ago - an old man with a careworn face and a grandfatherly demeanor. His thinning white hair was in slight disarray and his eyes betrayed a deep sadness. He wordlessly beckoned them in, thinking them to be itinerant priests who had come to pay their last respects. His eyes widened with surprise when they drew back their hoods. He had never seen Sorial as an adult but he knew Alicia instantly.

“My Lady, this is a surprise. Welcome back.”

“First Brother, it saddens me to come in such dire times, but we’re here because we heard unsettling news about Sussaman. This is Sorial, Kara’s son.”

Yuman fixed his gray eyes on the young wizard. In them, Sorial read recognition. This old man had known him as a child, perhaps even held him.

“Welcome back, Sorial. Your Magus.” He spoke the honorarium with great reverence. “I hoped to meet you one more time before I departed this life. It appears fate has elected to grant me that boon as a last comfort in these tragic times.”

“First Brother, all may not be as it seems,” said Alicia. “We come from Obis, where Queen Myselene now sits on the throne. The refugees from Vantok, who are camped here, owe their allegiance to her.”

“That they do,” agreed Yuman. “They will be gladdened to know their liege has succeeded in uniting the South and North. It is as Prelate Ferguson predicted before his demise. You know about that?”

“We only just heard the news. Could you tell us more?”

“There’s not much to tell. It happened two weeks agone. You both knew Warburm?” They nodded. Yuman shook his head sadly. “I thought I did as well. But I guess time changes men. For reasons we have not been able to ascertain, he turned on the prelate and murdered him - slit his throat from ear to ear with a dull knife. A messy business. The fool guards stabbed Warburm to death, thereby failing to allow us to question him and determine why he committed this heinous betrayal.”

“I think we can shed some light on that. Warburm contacted us before taking this action. It grieves me to say that the betrayal wasn’t Warburm’s. It was the prelate’s.” At this news, Yuman’s eyes went wide. Alicia then detailed everything they knew and suspected about Ferguson, including the information delivered by Shiree.

Yuman appeared ready to protest but he paused before starting his outburst of indignation. His features became thoughtful. Finally, he spoke. “It makes sense. Some of the things he said, some of the things he did… It appears we may have done a great wrong to Warburm. Killing him, vilifying his name. Now I wish I had seen things more clearly. My eyes have gone rheumy. I wish he had come to me.”

“Why didn’t he?” asked Alicia gently.

Yuman sighed. “Because he knew I would have talked him out of doing what he felt needed to be done. Because he knew I would never condone it and would have turned him over to Ferguson. It’s a sad thing that Shiree is the only one he felt he could trust. Now the whole village mourns the death of the wrong man. Would that we had burned Ferguson in ignominy and given high honors to Warburm.”

“Have Warburm’s wife and daughter been subject to reprisals?” asked Sorial.

“No. We’re not that kind of settlement. We don’t believe that a man’s crimes condemn his family or that his guilt extends to them. Few have shown much friendliness or sympathy but neither has there been hostility.”

“First Brother, we must be sure that Sussaman is stable and ready. War is coming and, while the main thrust of the attack will be aimed north of here, no one can predict what will happen once the battle at Obis concludes, especially if the city falls.”

“I understand, My Lady. Sussaman will be ready - both our long-term residents and those who have come here seeking refuge. I ask, however, that you not speak of Prelate Ferguson’s treachery. He is dead; let those who mourn him continue to think of him as a saintly man, which he surely once was. No good can come of besmirching his reputation and it could do irreparable harm to those whose spirits were bolstered by his sermons. I’ll see that Warburm’s family is treated with kindness and deference and that they at least learn the truth.”

Sorial was about to protest, but Alicia laid a hand on his arm to forestall him. He was outraged at what Yuman proposed. A man who had committed all Ferguson’s ills didn’t deserve to be honored in death while the person who had sacrificed his life to kill the tyrant was to be remembered as a base murderer. It was an affront to Annie. It was an affront to Vagrum. It was an affront to Kara, Lamanar, Brindig, and Darrin. It was an affront to Warburm and so many others. But he understood the rationale behind the First Brother’s request. The collective psyche of Sussaman was fragile at the moment and the revelation of Ferguson’s duplicity might shatter it. It would be easy enough for the rampant despair wandering Sussaman to develop into something darker - something that might be warped to serve Justin.

“Will you see Ponari before you leave? I’m sure she’s desperate for a friendly face. These haven’t been easy weeks for her. Even though she’s gotten used to living without Warburm around, it’s one thing to know he might walk through the door at any moment and another to know he never again will.”

As much as Sorial wanted to go to her and let her know that Warburm had died for something that mattered, it wasn’t a visit that could be rushed, and time was his enemy. “I’m sorry. War doesn’t make concessions to decency. Maybe when it’s over…”
If we’re all still alive, which seems unlikely
.

“I understand,” said Yuman. “You are a good man to come all this way to set things straight. With you standing against the enemy, I see only victory. The forces of chaos shall not triumph.” Looking into those calm gray eyes, Sorial almost believed him.

* * *

“Do you know, a lot of the ancient wizards had sex shortly before performing a significant act of magic?”

Sorial looked at Alicia dubiously but, although her eyes sparkled, there was no indication of guile. Still, he was skeptical. Not that he was complaining, but he didn’t need an excuse to do what he and Alicia had just done, and would likely do again before morning.

“It’s true!” protested Alicia, sitting up in bed, the spark of indignation reminding him of her old self rather than the calmer, more introspective woman who had returned from her journey. With no fire in their room - a concession they were able to make - it was cold and dark, but neither of them noticed the conditions. “Some of them even had concubines specific for that purpose.”

“And you learned this in the Yu’Tar Library?”

“Of course. There are many volumes about the subject, although most aren’t as enticing as one might hope. But sex clears the mind and relaxes the body.”

“Well, if that’s what it takes to beat Justin, I’m all for experimentation.”

“There’s something else I learned that I’ve been eager to share with you,” said Alicia, getting up from the bed and moving to the floor, where she sat cross-legged. Her wince when her naked buttocks contacted the stone indicated that, although magic allowed her to regulate her body temperature, the coldness of the surface was still uncomfortable.

Sorial joined her, moving slowly and awkwardly without his stone limbs attached. “Something that doesn’t have anything to do with us reveling in debauchery?”

She ignored him. “I told you there were some tricks the elves kept to themselves and were able to use without applying conventional magic?”

Sorial nodded. He remembered her saying something like that. A lot of what she had said about her discoveries at the library were too esoteric for him to understand but that, at least, was straightforward, although it seemed strange that creatures could perform magical deeds without accessing the Otherverse.

“Their most valuable ability was the creation of what they called a ‘void.’ They could locate the conduit carrying energy from the Otherverse and block it. That accomplished, no magic could be used within the area being fed by the access point. I experienced it myself. It was as if I had never passed through the portal. I couldn’t feel water. I couldn’t control it. All my abilities were nullified.”

“You figured out how to do it?”

“Yes. There were enough clues in the library that I was able to piece it together. I’ve tried it once; it works. The problem is that I don’t know how to undo it once it’s done, at least not from inside the void. It may be possible from the outside but only by the person who sets the block. The elves knew a way to do it from within but I wasn’t privy to that secret. It’s clumsy but it could provide a decisive advantage when Justin attacks. We can take magic out of the battle.”

“If the void closes off the Otherverse, it won’t impact the djinn or the dragon, will it? They’re purely elemental.”

“No. The djinn destroyed the library while it was shielded by a void.”

An unpleasant thought occurred to Sorial - a flash of insight into Justin’s potential battle strategy. “Does Justin know this trick?”