The Sorcerer's Scourge (18 page)

“Forgive me, master. I work all through the day and much of the night, pausing only to eat and sleep but a few hours.”

“Hm, you have a point, Zagrat. I failed to consider the limits of your living body. Never let it be said I am incapable of seeing and acknowledging my mistakes, dear Zagrat.”

“Of course not, master. You are far too wise to do such a thing.”

Varnath smiled at his underling. “Nor let it be said I am incapable of correcting them.”

Zagrat looked up fearfully at the lich’s words, but there was nothing he could do. The lich moved surprisingly fast and palmed the shaman’s large head with his skeletal hand. Zagrat desperately wanted to flee or at least cry out, but the lich’s terrifying presence and foul magic held him as immobile and silent as a statue. The hobgoblin’s ochre flesh turned grey and shriveled as Varnath drank in his life force, twisted it into a parody of its former self, and infused it back into his corpse. The process took only a few minutes, and when the lich released his grasp, Zagrat stood emotionless and unblinking before his master.

“We have but a few weeks before conditions are optimal for me to enact my plans. I would rather not wait another hundred years for a second chance because you failed to provide what I need. You will do nothing except make your ragmen. I will tell you where you can find the nearest humans for your subjects. We shall not need to be discreet any longer. Have your ragmen capture as many as they can. Capture entire villages if it is possible, and kill any they cannot. All shall be used in the final battle.”

“Yes, master,” Zagrat answered tonelessly.

***

Maude and her crew crouched in the shadows cast by the low-hanging branches of an enormous evergreen tree and studied the unusual structure standing a few hundred feet away. It looked more like a church or cathedral than a mansion. A low stone wall surrounded it with a wrought iron gate set in the end facing the main doors leading in.

Bishop Caalendor had given Maude a writ allowing them the use of the Blackguard’s network of mounts. Despite the fact that the network that ran to End’s Run was poorly supplied, they still made the journey a week ahead of the guard contingent that had left Brightridge days before they had.

The adventurers spent the first day of their arrival talking to the locals about Lord Bailey. Everyone had at least heard of him and many had even seen him, but never during the day. He did speak regularly with his local law enforcers inside his manor at all hours, but never outside it when the sun was up.

Several people spoke of his use of magic and of how the manor had simply appeared on the hilltop above town the morning after his arrival. They related his use of magic and incredible speed when he had fought the leader of the men that collected taxes and enforced their own laws in the area.

Despite this, the people generally considered things much improved in the two weeks since he had taken control despite several men having been hanged in the town center for violating the King’s law. Some mentioned that a few others had simply disappeared. Thugs no longer shook down store owners for protection money, prospectors were not being chased off their claims, and the taxes being paid to the King were less than what the warlord had been taking. The banditry was far from eliminated in such a short amount of time, but victims now had a place of recourse, and Landrin swiftly sent his enforcers out to deal with them.

“So how do we approach this? Go up and knock politely on the door?” Borik asked.

“Given the high likelihood of this man being a vampire, announcing ourselves would be a really bad idea,” Malek responded.

Maude nodded her agreement with the cleric. “I concur with Malek. We have the daylight on our side and could simply walk in without fear of ambush.”

“I don’t know,” Borik replied dubiously. “This sure looks an awful lot like what got us in this whole mess in the first place.”

“But this time he really is a vampire!” Maude declared. “Bishop Caalendor met the man and practically said so.”

“Yeah, and that old bat and half the town of Moronville or whatever it was called was just as certain! And
practically
saying so and coming out and declaring it is about as far apart as a two-foot rope around your neck and a three foot drop!”

“You’re just afraid of vampires!” Maude told him dismissively.

“You’re darn right I’m afraid of vampires! Vampires, ghouls, liches, ghosts, wraiths, specters, and anything else that don’t bleed when you stick a blade in ‘em!”

“Ahem,” the sound of someone declaring his presence came from behind them.

Maude, Malek, and Borik leapt to their feet, sending a cascade of snow falling all over them when the two humans struck the branches over their heads. All three spun around and looked at the short figure standing a few feet away. Only Borik immediately saw that the man was not a misshapen dwarf but a half-man.

“Damn it, Tarth, you were supposed to be watching for anyone coming up behind us!” Maude shouted at the elf.

“I was, Maudeline,” Tarth defended. “The little man came around that side of the wall and walked up behind us here.”

“The purpose of watching our backs is to warn us before someone sneaks up on us!”

“Oh, my apologies. There is someone here.”

Maude ground her teeth in frustration. “It’s too late now!”

“There is just no pleasing you sometimes,” Tarth replied in a huff.

Maude gave up on the elf and turned to the half-man. “Who are you and what do want?”

“I am Fetch, and I want to be two feet taller. My master thought you might be cold skulking about in the snow and wishes to know if you would like to come in for tea.”

Maude looked from Fetch to the manor and sighed heavily. “Will anything ever go according to plan? Very well, Fetch. Lead the way, but know that if there is any treachery it’s your big head I’m taking first.”

“You would earn great credit for such a feat if you had the skill to find my neck,” Fetch replied, referring to the fact that his head attached directly to his shoulders without the benefit of that piece of anatomy.

Fetch led the adventurers to the manor with great efficiency despite his odd ambling gait. The tall, ponderous-looking door opened easily for him and he escorted them inside the well-lit and spacious interior.

Maude and the rest of her crew kept a tight grip on their weapons as they entered the manor and scanned for signs of an ambush. The interior was completely open with a set of wide stairs leading to an open balcony that surrounded the entire central chamber from where several doors led to other rooms. There were similar doors on the ground floor as well.

Several chandeliers suspended by stout chains provided much of the light, but the primary source of illumination was the enormous, round, stained glass window set high in the east wall. All four adventurers immediately recognized the stylized sun as the Eye of Solarian. Such an ornamentation cast great doubt upon the laird of End’s Run being a member of the undead. The sun streaming through the Eye of Solarian would turn any such abomination to less than ash in an instant.

“Welcome, travelers,” Landrin called out from atop the balcony.

All eyes turned towards the voice as he descended the stairs. Since freeing himself of Eldon’s control and receiving Solarian’s blessing, Landrin had returned to wearing more colorful clothing such as he had when he had been a bard. He wore loose red trousers and a silk shirt of orange and gold that bunched up at the shoulders. Although the smile on his face appeared genuine, none of the group relaxed their guard.

“Fetch, would you be so kind as to get the tea? I believe it is ready now.”

Fetch gave a small bow and waddled towards the door at the far end of the manor where the kitchen stood.

“I fear you may find my offerings a tad meager. I do not yet employ a full time cook and Fetch often eats in town,” Landrin explained as he approached the wary band.

Not surprisingly, Malek was the first to sense their host’s true nature. With a gasp and clipped curse, the cleric held out the gleaming amber orb representing his order’s holy symbol and called upon his faith.

“Stay back, you unholy nightmare!” Malek cried out. “By the light of Solarian I cast away your blackness and return you to your natural state of death!”

The gleaming brilliance radiating off the orb forced Landrin back a step as he shielded his eyes with his raised hand and arm.

“I wish you would not do that, Chosen,” Landrin said calmly. “Not only is it rather uncomfortable, it flies in the face of proper manners for one showing such hospitality.”

Maude looked uncertainly from Landrin to Malek. “Malek, are you sure he’s undead?”

Malek knew that he was not the most capable cleric in his order, but he possessed a strong affinity with Solarian and wielded enough divine power that many of his faith were quite jealous as they considered him something of a disgrace. Whether or not he could destroy something as powerful as a vampire outright was uncertain, but he knew his power should at the very least force the monstrosity to flee.

“I-I am certain…,” Malek stammered, not sounding the least bit positive.

“Perhaps if we could all just remain calm a moment I can explain,” Landrin said smoothly.

The light emanating from Make’s holy symbol ebbed until it went completely dim. He looked at it as if betrayed then allowed it to hang loosely around his neck by the stout gold chain and returned his two-handed grip to his hammer.

“Do not look sullen, Chosen. Your faith has not betrayed you. I am indeed what you sensed, but not perhaps what you fear. Were I a monster, could I stand beneath Solarian’s most holy of icons unscathed?”

“You defame the symbol of Solarian with your magic!” Malek angrily accused.

Landrin shook his head with smile. “On the contrary, Chosen. I hold this symbol more reverently than even you could possibly imagine. It is possibly the only place in the entire world I can feel the warmth of the sun without it destroying me. Come, I will show you. I know you have likely performed your morning benedictions as have I, but perhaps you would feel more at ease if you joined me in repeating them?”

Without waiting for a response, Landrin turned, walked towards the stained glass window, and knelt within the glowing beam of light cast by the midmorning sun.

Malek looked at Maude and said, “Watch him closely,” and then folded himself onto his knees next to the vampire.

The two diametrically opposed creatures softly chanted in perfect unison. “Blessed be Solarian whose radiant light shines upon my heart and chases the blackness from the land and my soul. Within his light, I need never fear the darkness for he shall light my way. Let me carry his light unto the masses so that they shall know the love, warmth, and safety that lie within his holy illumination. All hail Solarian.”

Malek looked up into the glorious golden rays of light and trailed a hand through one of the more brilliant beams within which floated a universe of dust motes. He knew it was no mere illusion for he could feel the heat of the sun upon his flesh and the light upon his very soul. He felt Solarian’s embrace, strong and comforting in this place.

“How is this possible?” he asked the vampire that knelt enraptured next to him.

Landrin smiled as warmly as the sun coming through the great window. “Despite my transformation, I never lost faith. Solarian rewarded my service and diligence and created this sanctuary for me so that I might continue to serve him and fight the coming darkness.”

“Are you Chosen then?”

Landrin laughed so hard tears would be streaming down his face if he were still capable of producing them. It took several long, uncomfortable moments before he could respond to the honest question. He wished he could keep laughing, as it was the first one he had enjoyed in more than ten years.