Gods Of Blood And Fire (Book 1) (51 page)

The wizard reached out and put his hand on the duke’s chest, William’s face contorted with pain his heart began to beat faster and faster, he wanted to fall to the floor but his knees wouldn’t bend.

“I told you I was done with Bandara, it didn’t interest me anymore.” The Dark One snatched his hand from the duke’s chest and William fell to his hands and knees. The masked sorcerer straddled him and pulled a wickedly curved dagger out and put it to the duke’s throat “Time to die, Blackthorn.” The Dark One pulled the duke’s head up by his hair exposing his neck. “They may not know it, but the young girls of Northham will sleep much safer tonight,” the sorcerer said.

“Wait,” the duke croaked. “I can give you something you might want.”

“Draw one last breath and tell me what you have that I could possibly want,” the wizard said, as he let the dagger draw a little of the older man’s blood.

“My father told me that when the Phoenix Queen was buried my Ancestor Braxton Blackthorn placed an item of great power inside her tomb with her. It was said its magic is what led the Queen to so many of her impossible victories.”

The sorcerer took the knife away from the duke’s neck. “What item are you talking about?”

“I don’t know exactly but my father said it was the most powerful thing in the Kingdom. It was said to have enhanced the Queen’s magic.”

“I thought no one knew where the Queen’s tomb was; the legends say she was buried in secret,” the wizard said as he climbed off Blackthorn’s back.

William struggled to his feet. “Whatever was buried with her was the reason she was buried in secret, Braxton was afraid of the magic so he entombed it with her. Before he died, Braxton told his son where the Queen’s body rested and it has been passed down through my family from father to son ever since.”

The Dark One pointed the knife at the duke casually. “If your family knew where it was, why didn’t you go loot it a long time ago?”

“Along with the location of the tomb, a warning was also passed down to never seek the tomb out, the magic inside was dark and evil and the tomb itself cursed, and I believed what my father told me. I never sought it out and I never heard that any of my ancestors tried to find the tomb either. So whatever it was it must still be there.”

The wizard thought for a moment weighing his options. “You give me the location of the tomb, if there is something of use to me there, I will do what I can for you, if not, I will make you beg me to kill you.”

William had little choice. “Agreed.” He got out a map of Bandara and pointed out the location to the Dark One.

“I know you won’t be going anywhere, Willy, so I shall return as soon as I can.” With that he vanished, leaving William Blackthorn to hope his father’s story was true.

***

The tomb had been easy for him to find, it was a small sea cave on the east coast of Bandara, not far from Turill. It was well hidden at the bottom of a sheer cliff. If you didn’t know where to look, it would never be found. He waved his hand in an odd circular motion and stepped off the edge of the cliff. The wizard slowly floated down the side of the crag like a feather.

Only part of the entrance was above the water, it was just tall enough for a man to walk in, if the man could walk on water. Fortunately he could, the Dark One spoke a word of power. He landed gently on the calm waters of the Eastern Sea and walked over to the base of the cliff and into the cave.

The darkness was like a wet shroud, he muttered a word and a light appeared floating in the air beside him, the cave was not deep and he found himself walking on a rocky floor after about forty yards.

There ahead of him was the sarcophagus of the Phoenix Queen. Braxton Blackthorn had to have used magic to get the huge sarcophagus into the cave, it was massive and made of solid gold. He could feel the spells that had been cast on the great casket to preserve it from the elements.

Engraved on the lid was the Bandaran Phoenix, he wondered if any Bandaran had ever seen one of the legendary birds. The engraving was close to what the real creature looked like. Few believe the great avian truly existed, he knew they were wrong, he had once seen one of the creatures in the Weeping lands far to the south. The creature had been beautiful beyond words. He shook the memory from his head, there were wards he had to dispel, he didn’t have time for reminiscing.

When he finished getting rid of the last of the protection spells, he put his hand on the sarcophagus, it was warm to the touch. The lid was heavy but slid easily enough; whoever had built it had been a master craftsman.

He motioned and the light that floated beside him came closer. The wizard peered down into the sarcophagus expecting to see the desiccated corpse of the Phoenix Queen. Instead he saw a comely middle-aged woman dressed in red and gold armor, she looked as if she was peacefully sleeping.

A sword in a red scabbard lay clutched in her hands, the pommel of the thin-bladed long sword was a golden phoenix. He slowly unwrapped her lifeless fingers from sword’s hilt and slid the weapon through his belt. The famous sword of the Phoenix Queen would make a fine addition to his collection.

When he touched it, he could sense its magic but not enough to be the thing he was looking for. There was something else in the casket that was much more powerful. He could feel it.

He looked again his sharp eyes caught something; he motioned the light back and dimmed it just a little. The wizard saw a faint dark glow coming from under the dead Queen’s arm, turning her body slightly, he removed a small stoppered vial of dark liquid.

His magical senses reeled from the power inside the tiny bottle. Its power was not a power created by a sorcerer. It was something else something beyond magic, then a grin spread across his face, tucking the vial inside his robe, he turn to leave, when a slight noise cause him to look back.

The Queen had sat up in her sarcophagus, her auburn hair spilling over her shoulders, slowly her head turned towards him until she gazed into his eyes.

Startled but unafraid, he turned to face her; this was not his first encounter with the undead. “What you intend with that will not bring you what you want, evil one.” Her voice sounded soft, but she spoke with great authority.

“How do you know what I want?”

The Queen gave him an ironic smile. “The dead know many things; if you use what you have stolen the consequences will be dire. You will alter the fate of this world and your destiny will be forever changed. What you intend to do cannot be undone, sorcerer, you have been warned.”

The Queen lay back down in her sarcophagus, he walked over and looked in, wanting to know more, he found the Queen was gone and only a dried up corpse now rested in her armor. “Thank you for the warning, Your Majesty,” the wizard said as he slid the lid back to cover the renowned monarch, “I wish I could heed it.”

Chapter 20

N
o one could remember it being so cold. Even the old men and women of the Kingdom could not remember such a bitter wind. Winter had come early to Bandara, already over two foot of snow covered the ground outside the walls of Turill.

K’xarr couldn’t sleep, he stood on top of the wall looking down on Havalon’s camp, it was still hours before the attack but he was just too tense to rest, there was a stiff breeze on top of the wall and he had seen the sentries shivering when he passed them earlier.

He knew the cold had to be hard on the soldiers of Abberdon, as well as the Bandarans. The Abberdonians had built rough barracks out of the wood that was left over after building their siege towers and catapults. It made the camp look like a small town. There were not enough of the crude buildings to house all of the Abberdonian soldiers. Many of the foreign troops only had the protection of tents to keep out the cold and the biting wind. They had tromped down the snow throughout the camp making the ground hard and slick. The enemy was having a miserable time of it. So much the better, K’xarr thought.

Their King must be a hard man, there was no sign he would ride back to Abberdon and return in the spring. Too much could change by spring. Havalon would not give up his position. If he left and returned in the spring, the old King knew he might have to fight his way back to Turill. No, he would stay and suffer through the winter. He would not give up the ground he had already won.

The weather would work to the Bandaran’s advantage. Havalon’s troops were cold, hungry, and discontent and they would not be expecting an attack in this kind of weather, the Bandaran troops didn’t like it, but at least they had the shelter of the city to keep them warm until they had to ride out against their enemy. They also knew the attack was coming. If the Gods were merciful the Abberdonians would not be ready. K’xarr knew he was taking a big gamble but it was his only chance. At least, the only one he could think of.

He remembered when he was growing up in Camir, the raids he went on with his father and the other warriors of his village; this cold was mild compared to the winter nights in the mountains of his homeland. He remembered how the blood had frozen on the dead and wounded and how you could watch the dying exhale their last breath into the cold night air.

It was on a night like that he had killed his mother and father, even now he pushed the thoughts from his mind, not wanting to remember the blood that stained his hands. He had never told anyone, even Cromwell knew nothing about the night he murdered his family.

It didn’t matter now, he was a general, at least in name. In a few hours he would see if he could earn the title. There was a battle to win and no time for thoughts of things he couldn’t ever change.

He would carry out his plan and damn his doubts to hell. He had never second guessed his instincts before and he wasn’t about to start now. If this was to be his only battle as a general, then he would make it a glorious one.

He turned and headed back down into the city. He had just enough time to eat and put his armor on. By the time the sun rose on a new day, he would know what kind of commander he was.

William Blackthorn sat in his room drinking a cup of warm wine with his feet in front of a nice fire. The man he knew as the Dark One stood before him with one hand on the mantle above his fireplace. “I have set things in motion in Turill, when this K’xarr attacks in the morning and I have it on good authority he will, events might not go as he planned.”

“How can helping Havalon help me?” the duke asked.

“I’m not helping Havalon. I’m making it hard for the little Queen to win. The only one that my actions will benefit is you.

“This Camiran, he is young and daring, a full out winter attack might truly hurt the King of Abberdon. Hopefully what I have done will hurt them both,” the wizard gurgled.

“I hope you’re right. I just don’t see how one man can do that much, even if he is a wizard.”

“All I had to do was deliver a message to your men in your name, the rest is up to them. I promised if what was in the tomb of the Phoenix Queen was useful to me, I would help you it was and I have. Now I must go. I have a mission of my own that will aid us both as well.” The wizard vanished without a sound.

The duke pulled his fur robe tighter, he had a chill and it wasn’t from the cold.

***

She pulled the last strap tight on her armor and picked up the helmet she had chosen from the armory, it was plain and unadorned, but it offered good protection with its cheek plates and nasal guard. Endra hoped it would do, she had never been in a battle before, unlike most of the Harsh Coast, the Sorrackans didn’t raid their neighbors’ villages or into other lands.