Sons of Evil: Book 1 Book of Dread (32 page)

“That is what I fear,” she
said. Before he could ask what she meant by that, she crouched low and studied
the book. After a time she closed her eyes, although her face was still square
to the book, as if she was still probing in ways other than sight. Slowly her
hand reached out, a slight tremble visible for all to see. Her fingers, spread
wide, moved within a half-inch of the Blood Book’s cover, then advanced no
more. She pulled her hand away, then rose and sat on her throne, her eyes open
and upon the book once more.

She shook herself, as if
remembering her guests, then gave them an apologetic smile. “I had hoped,
somehow, that this thing would be something other than what you’ve guessed. Unfortunately,
it is, as you suspected, a Book of Dread.”

When she paused, Barlow asked,
“Can you open it?”

She answered with a question
of her own. “Why do you wish it opened?”

“To know what it contains. To
see whether it has been used to bring the current woes to Corterra, and whether
it might be used to stop them.”

“A noble sentiment, indeed. What
could be learned I cannot say. But I do know that no spell from this tome will
be able to banish any evil that has been loosed in this world. Anything called
forth might be sent back through force of arms or perhaps other devices, but
this book will not give such answers. It was created by evil to do evil, and no
power you or I have can turn any of the words inside to good.”

“Are you saying we should not
be seeking to open it?” Silas asked.

“No. Only that what you find
inside may not suit your purposes. You may understand who your enemy truly is
after the book is studied, and knowing him may help you, but the book will not
give you the means to banish or defeat him.”

“You sound as if you already
know what we’ll see inside,” Adrianna said. “As if you know who the enemy is.”

Aerlos shook her head. “I do
not. In days long past there were many such books. Some were more powerful than
others. It is possible you’ve already faced the worst this book can summon. Or
not.”

“That’s not—” Darius started,
a slight edge to his voice, then flushed red, thinking he might have insulted
the queen.

“I take no insult, Darius,”
Aerlos said. “And I understand your feelings. I do not mean to be obtuse or
coy. I do not know what is inside the book, and I’m sure after all you’ve been
through that you won’t turn aside now. I’m just trying to prepare you a bit, to
warn you, before we look inside.”

“So you can open it,” Darius
said, his face showing relief.

Aerlos read the look and
feared the young man had missed the intent of her words. She saw that the
others, at least, had not, and so answered, “I can arrange for it, I believe.”

“What do you need from us?”
Silas asked.

“I’m afraid I’ll have to ask
for another measure of your patience. There will need to be some arrangements
made before I am ready.”

“Of course.”

“And one other thing. I will
need you to trust me. You may not approve of what must be done to break the
book open, but I assure you I will only be doing what is necessary.”

Silas repeated, “Of course.”

She looked to the others. “In
this I would have each speak his or her own heart.”

“Whatever needs to be done,”
Barlow agreed with a nod.

“I’m in,” Adrianna said.

Darius gave a small shrug. “We’ve
come a long way to ask for your help. How you open the book we must leave to
you.”

“Very well,” she said. “I will
see to things as soon as I can. Keep the book with you. I will call for you,
and it, when all is prepared.”

They were shown to a small
room on the perimeter of the court where they could wait. Four hours later, as
they finished the light lunch they were provided, a guard entered and said,
“All is ready. Please follow me.”

He led them outside and to the
northeast, a section of the city they had not toured during their brief stay. They
soon learned this part of Lon Antar was less developed, several of the trees
still untouched by the elves. They had come within sight of the city’s outer
wall when they saw a tree with four guards posted around a heavy, barred door. At
a nod from their guide the door was opened and they were ushered inside.

The interior was populated by
more guards and a half-dozen cells. Two were presently occupied, but the elves
held inside took scant notice of the newcomers. One of the guards snapped to
attention and said, “I’ll take them from here. The queen is waiting below.”

As their old guide departed,
their new one led them to a long, straight stair, which delved into the ground,
and under and beyond the edges of the tree that served as the city’s jail. Eventually
they reached another heavy door, which had three locks that their escort had to
open before he led them on. “Welcome to the dungeon of Lon Antar,” he said with
some seriousness. “Few even know of its existence, and most that do never see
the light of day again.” He shot them a quick look and added, “Guess you’re the
rare lucky ones.”

They moved down a long hall,
the light here dim and tinged red. Both right and left were rows of cells, but
these, unlike the ones above, were accessible only through thick, solid doors,
and the only sight-line into them was provided by a gated, two-inch slot at
roughly eye level. All these slots were currently covered. They had no way of
knowing how many of the cells were occupied, but they knew they were not all
vacant, as now and then a cry or moan was heard. These voices were clearly not
elven, though what they were was open to some debate.

At the end of the long hall
was a larger chamber, the door of which stood open. It was into this room that
the guests were escorted. The queen was there, along with four other elves,
another set of guards apparently. These had taken position around a prisoner, a
goblin that was bound hand and foot and blindfolded as well. To the thick
leather bindings four heavy chains were attached. The goblin turned its head at
the sound of the newcomers entering the chamber, as if trying to get further
clues as to what the elves were planning to do. Based on the look of some of
the cruel devices that lined the walls of the room, perhaps it was best it
could not see.

Each progressive trip in their
latest journey had led the companions to a more foreign place, and a greater
feeling of trepidation. As much as a jail with a couple of elven prisoners
seemed odd in this fair city, one could understand the occasional need to
isolate someone for a time, perhaps for having enjoyed too much wine or for
taking a joke further than what was prudent. The lower chambers as well,
despite the magic of the Auerl Forest, indicated only that there were those
that might come at the elves intending them harm, and that once caught they
needed to be held while the elves tried to discover if a larger plot was in the
works. But this room, and the dire intent of some of the tools present, seemed
beyond what one could imagine of folk that seemed so wise and kind. Darius, in
particular, having heard of and seen so much while at war, was taken aback, and
started to regret his words earlier, allowing Aerlos whatever method she chose
to open the book.

She acknowledged their arrival
with a nod, and with the same gesture told the guards to begin. Two pulled on
the ends of the chains, hoisting the goblin into the air. They maneuvered it
until it was left hanging upside down, with its arms tight against its body.

“Do you know who I am?” Aerlos
asked the goblin.

It let out a low growl, its
face contorted in a snarl, but it paused before speaking, likely working
through the more biting comments it wished to make. It took a moment to calm
itself, then said, “No, I do not,” in a passable version of the common tongue.

“I am Aerlos, Queen of this
realm. I want you to understand who it is you are dealing with. I represent my
people, and my actions are sanctioned by them. Do not believe for a moment that
what happens here is simply the work of some cruel guard that might be
reprimanded for such behavior.”

The
goblin did not speak in reply to these words, but the sweat that was starting
to bead on its bald, green head was visible to everyone.

Darius had to bite back a gasp
as Aerlos went to the far wall, pulled down a barbed whip that hung on a peg
there, and returned to stand before the goblin prisoner. Surely, he thought, if
there was cruel work to do, one of the other elves would do it.

Aerlos snapped the whip, the
barbs biting into the goblin’s exposed back. The creature squeaked in surprise
and pain, and jerked against its bonds.

Twice more she cracked the
whip, with the same results. Small rivulets of blood began to trickle down the
goblin’s back.

“Are you ready to speak now?”
she asked.

“What do you want?” the goblin
asked in reply.

She hit it again, then said,
“For you to suffer.”

Three more times the wicked
barbs tore at the goblin. It screamed out in pain and fear, “I’ll tell you
whatever you want to know.”

“I want to know why you are
here.”

“Your people brought me!”

“Why were you in our wood?”

“I was hungry. All my people
are hungry.”

“And so you came to steal what
we have.”

The goblin paused, and the
whip fell again.

“You have much,” it said after
its cry had died down. “We only need a little to survive.”

“You would kill us all if you
had the chance.”

“No! I only want to live.”

She laughed and whipped the
goblin again.

Adrianna turned away. Darius
started forward, but Silas held him back. “Do not interfere,” the cleric
whispered.

“We can’t allow this. It’s too
much.”

“It has to be done.”

Darius looked to Barlow for
help, but the paladin averted his eyes.

“Please,” the goblin begged. “Mercy!”

“No mercy shall be shown to
you, or to your people. After you have died, our armies will march out and
destroy your clan. Your people will no longer need to steal to satisfy their
hunger.”

The whip
rose and fell, and with each successive lash any hope for pity or mercy was
driven from the goblin, to be replaced by rage and hate. It screamed again, but
not so much in reaction to the pain, but out of spite. “You will all die! Your
heads will decorate the walls of our city!”

Aerlos applied the whip again,
then turned to Silas and mouthed, “The book.”

Silas let Darius go so the
younger man could pull the book from his pack and step forward.

Aerlos used the whip again,
causing the goblin to spew further vile threats, all caution now gone. She
pointed to a place beneath the poor creature, and Darius put the book there and
then quickly backed away.

The whip sliced through the
air once more.

“I’ll chew your eyes out
elf-witch!” the goblin yelled.

Another lash.

“Your children will be boiled
alive!”

Another lash.

The goblin spat a stream of
curses in its native tongue.

Another lash.

“Stop it,” Darius said through
clenched teeth.

“Silence!” Aerlos shouted,
shooting him a fiery glare. She flailed at the goblin twice more.

It screamed, a long, piercing
shriek, while it thrashed against its bonds. If its anger could have set it
free, it would have been loose long ago. The blood from its wounds rolled down
its back and neck and onto its head. On the goblin’s left ear the blood beaded,
and finally a drop fell, landing squarely on the book, which Darius had placed
beneath the hanging creature.

The clasp on the book fell
aside.

Aerlos stepped away from the
goblin while one of the guards moved in. With a gloved hand he held a vial
under the dangling creature, catching more of its blood. When the small
container was full, he capped it and handed it to Aerlos.

“You may retrieve the item,”
Aerlos said to Darius.

Darius knelt to reach under
the goblin, extending his arm quickly and sliding the book out from under the
drops of blood that continued to fall. When he picked up the Book of Dread he
expected the cover to be slick and wet with the goblin’s blood, but he found no
sign of where the blood had fallen. He slid his finger under the clasp and held
it open, fearing it might re-latch.

Aerlos waved the visitors from
the south toward her as she placed the whip back into its place on the wall. Softly
she said, “We cannot speak here. Say nothing until we return to the throne
room.” As soon as she saw their nods of understanding, she led them from the
room. As they started back down the long hall of the dungeon, they could hear
the chains that held the goblin being lowered, and the creature shouted out
further curses on Aerlos and her people.

Any elation they may have felt
on finally having the book open for inspection was dampened by what they had
just seen. They returned to the throne room in gloomy silence, Aerlos’ request
that they not speak until then a moot one.