The Ancient Ones (The Legacy Trilogy Book 3) (7 page)

Read The Ancient Ones (The Legacy Trilogy Book 3) Online

Authors: Michael Foster

Tags: #Magic, #legacy, #magician, #Fantasy, #samuel

BOOK: The Ancient Ones (The Legacy Trilogy Book 3)
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‘I understand them. Magic no longer has a place in this world. It attracts devils. I, too, am a relic—out of time and place. Once this is done, once I have saved my son, I would happily see an end to magic.’

‘That would be the end of you, too, Lord Samuel,’ Leopold stated, hopeful in his tone.

‘Then so be it.’

‘And where is this lost son you mention?’

‘I do not know. Who he is, is more important than where he is. He is Lin, the Demon King, intent on consuming mankind, as he has at the end of every Age for time unknown.’

‘Why would you want to save such a creature?’

‘Because, like your father, I believe no one is beyond hope. If your father had faith that a fallen magician such as me can still retain some good, then I can have faith that my son—once nothing more than a young man—can return to being a man once again.’

‘Yet your name is synonymous with suffering. You have destroyed whole cities and armies, and you profess to causing the great cataclysm of the Darkening.’

‘All true,’ Samuel admitted.

‘So … why? How can you sit here and tell me you have any good intent when you are a self-confessed blight upon the world?’

‘A matter of perspective ... we do what we need to do. I cannot justify my actions to you. In my place you would have done the same.’

Young Leopold scoffed, insulted by the suggestion. ‘I would not!’

The magician shrugged. ‘Then your father wasted his life and I am wasting my time in protecting you.’

Leopold was outraged. ‘How dare you talk of him that way!’

The magician looked to Leopold with interest, finding amusement in the youth’s reactions. ‘Long ago, a misguided youth shattered the skin between worlds and allowed dark spirits to cross over. He became infused with evil, his three disciples also. It began a never-ending cycle, the master returning to devour the population, the Ancient Ones left behind to monitor his flock. Your father was one of those devils, a servant of the Demon King, dutifully slaughtering the masses again and again over countless eons. Now I possess your father’s strength, I am one step closer to victory.’

Leopold could hold his temper no longer. He launched from his seat and set upon the magician, knocking him onto his back, and there Leopold pummelled the man’s face with his fists with all his fury.

‘You lie!’ he screeched. ‘Damn you back to hell! I’ll kill you!’ he shrieked through gritted teeth.

Lord Samuel lay flat, unharmed, looking blankly at the boy while Leopold’s arms became leaden and he laboured to remain upright, exhausted from his efforts.

The magician took the beating without flinching until Leopold could not go on. Infuriated, he staggered away from Lord Samuel, collapsing onto his seat and covering his face in his grazed and bleeding hands, weeping upon his feet.

‘Why?’ he whimpered. ‘Why have you done this? Why did you come to our island? Why is this happening to me?’

He heard the magician climb to his feet and after a while, sniffing and wiping his eyes, Leopold dared look up—to find Lord Samuel gazing straight back at him.

‘I hope you have that out of your system,’ the magician told him. ‘I cannot be harmed and you cannot escape, no matter how much you wish for it. You are obliged to me. As I made a promise to your parents, you have made a binding oath to me—and we have a job to do. The sooner we do it, the sooner you can be home.’

Leopold put his back to the fiend and, with a start, found Toby standing right before him. The young fool was looking at him intently, a cat watching a twitching leaf in the wind.

‘What do you want?’ Leopold asked angrily, sniffing once more.

The boy looked at him cheekily. ‘Tooby,’ he said happily, as if his mangled name was the answer to all their problems.

Leopold was surprised to hear the boy utter his first word, however, his melancholy quickly returned. He had no care if the boy spoke or not.

He shut his mind to them all and spent the following hours looking quietly out to sea.

 

****

 

Light was falling and the sun was hidden behind overlapping veils of pink and orange clouds low to the west, when the dark shape of buildings hugging the coastline came into view. Leopold steered towards them at the magician’s instruction, doing what he was told without comment or objection. He wanted to get them to land, so he could be away from the man.

Their destination revealed a fortified settlement, built upon a rocky island. Sheer walls climbed from the water’s edge. A narrow causeway extended to the mainland, barely above the waves. From the way the rocks glistened, Leopold guessed the roadway would be underwater each high tide. Boats moved around the island and lights glowed in the windows, suggesting life in the place. Silhouettes strode the battlements, pointing towards them on noticing their approach.

‘Why has this town not yet fallen?’ Leopold asked. ‘I thought few settlements prevailed on the mainland?’

‘This is Seakeep. Many soldiers who fled the old Empire banded together and came here—what’s left of them. They protect and shelter any civilians who they find, or send them on to other safe havens farther away. There are no magicians here to attract the Truthseekers, and the soldiers do a good job of keeping out the minions of Cintar. It would take Rei herself to root them out, and it is only a matter of time until she does. They know that, too—which is why they’re letting us in.’

Figures, bows readied in their hands, watched them from the crenellations upon the walls. Some tracked their passage, arrows poised for flight. It seemed Lord Samuel was tolerated, although not entirely welcomed.

At the magician’s instruction, Leopold brought them against the chiselled rocks, and tied their vessel to one of many rings set into the stone, beside a large doorway. They waited several minutes, then the doors opened inward and a short rope was slung out from the resulting opening in the wall. Samuel climbed spryly.

Leopold followed, finding an enclosed storage area, with a wet stone floor and a ramp that pushed out into the water. Small boats, oars, piles of rope and various boating equipment lay around the walls.

Several guards in blue and gold trimmed armour were waiting: young men, not much older than Leopold. They stood valiantly, with the air of warriors. Leopold had no doubt they would use their swords if so commanded, making him feel nervous.

‘Welcome, companions of the magician,’ hailed one flatly. He did not sound welcoming and he did not acknowledge the magician directly.

Samuel watched idly while Salu struggled to climb. Toby noticed them waiting and scrambled across the boat, jumping inside.

Counter to Leopold’s first impression, the guards proved not entirely courageous. One of them trembled and could not avert his eyes from the magician. The others were not so obvious, yet their subtle mannerisms betrayed their fear—glances towards the doorway—and none of them stood closer to the man than necessary. When he stepped nearer, one stumbled in his hurry to retreat.

They called for helpers, and four civilians soon appeared. They pushed the ramp out with a splash into the water and dragged the boat into the storage room.

‘The casket goes in my room,’ Samuel told a guard. Leopold had no doubt he had singled out that particular man on purpose; he was the one who fidgeted the most. The magician raised one finger before the fellow’s face in warning, and the guard locked his horrified gaze onto the finger as if it were a scorpion set to leap upon his face. ‘Not a scratch,’ he warned, and the guard nodded vigorously. ‘Don’t open it,’ he added, and in reply the guard shook his head until it rattled.

The men lingered, staring at the black casket, terrified. None of them wanted to be the first to near it, fearing what may leap out, that it might burst into flames upon contact. They looked to each other, hoping someone would dare be first.

Lord Samuel was confident they would see to his wishes, and strode away without hesitation. He knew his way and Leopold hurried after him, scurrying to keep up with the magician’s pace. The noise of Salu’s stick striking the stones sounded as the old man followed with his own doddering gait. Presumably, Toby came with him; the magician displayed no sign of caring.

They traversed passageways and stairs crafted into the stone walls of the keep. Anyone they met or who crossed their path took flight on sight of the magician’s dark robes—soldiers, servants, maids and pageboys. Fear of the magician knew no restriction, and sounds of dismay followed each one fleeing down the halls.

They arrived at a large furnished chamber. An officer with wings of grey in his short, ruffled hair waited for them in the room. Aged leather armour was strapped across his chest, ready for battle, and a straight-edged sword was strung in its scabbard at his hip. He had numerous scars on his face, one splitting an eyebrow and continuing up into his hairline; he had seen a lifetime of war.

As he regarded Lord Samuel, he showed none of the fright that had the other folk terrified. He seemed actually pleased to see the magician. For Leopold, it was a strange and unexpected turn.

‘Samuel,’ the man said. ‘You return.’

‘Captain Orrell,’ the magician replied in greeting.

‘And you bring company,’ the captain added, looking to Leopold, just as Salu and Toby wandered into the room. ‘Who do you have with you? An old beggar draped in rags, a boy with a foolish grin and a young man who has never been far from his mother’s teat. You amaze me with your antics, Magician.’ He sniffed the air loudly. ‘And one of them is in desperate need of soap and scrubbing.’

Samuel waved his hand nonchalantly before the three to introduce them. ‘Correct on all counts, Captain. This old fool is Salu, brother of Grand Master Anthem and as you know, said to be amongst the greatest magicians of all time; although he has not proved to be much use in his current state. He struggles to put his shoes on unaided, and his personal hygiene is highly questionable. He is giving off that vengeful stench you detected. The child is his witless companion. Together they form almost a functioning unit. Almost. And surely you remember young Leopold. It would be poor form of me to speak bluntly of him in company, but suffice to say your summation of him was not far from the mark.’

Captain Orrell’s eyes grew wider on hearing Leopold’s name, but he was a man not easily taken unawares and he regained his composure immediately. ‘Gods, Samuel, this will bring some hope to the men. How did you manage to find him?’

‘I did not bring him here to please your men, Captain. Leopold was no longer safe where he was, so I brought him with me—at his father’s request.’

‘What do you mean by that?’ Orrell asked suspiciously.

‘I made a promise to the father to protect the son. I am keeping that promise.’

Leopold had the feeling that not all was being said, for Captain Orrell looked between him and the magician several times, digesting Lord Samuel’s words.

‘Very well,’ the captain decided, coming to terms with the matter. ‘I suppose you have known where he and his mother have been all these years—and you never thought to tell me.’

‘I thought of it,’ the magician replied, correcting the fellow’s assumption.

The scowl on the captain’s face deepened. ‘I hope you will be more honest with me in future, Samuel. I am taking a great risk in welcoming you here. My men considered revolt when they heard of your approach. I find it hard to keep my faith in you when you neglect to tell me so much.’

‘I neglect nothing, Captain,’ Lord Samuel informed the man.

Captain Orrell closed his eyes and breathed deeply. ‘So what will you do now?’ he asked expectantly.

‘I will do as I promised and keep him with me. Beyond that, my plans remain the same.’

‘So you will take Leopold with you to Cintar while you battle the witch? That is madness.’

‘He is safer with me than anywhere. If you want to help me protect him, then you and your men could come with us.’

The captain looked hesitant. ‘I thought you were going to say that. We’ve tried before, as have others. You know—you were there. There are no secret ways through the gates of Cintar and the walls are impenetrable. All previous attempts have met with total defeat and able men are growing scarce. We simply cannot afford another loss. It will be our last.’

‘Walls mean nothing to me. I am more powerful than before. I have already defeated one of the three. The time of the Ancient Ones is ending; I will see to that. I can penetrate Rei’s armies and face her directly. I need you and your men to support me and watch over Leopold. Once I am done, clean up the mess and the city is yours. When I take care of the witch, her minions will lose their focus and her beasts will be banished.’

‘Are you so sure? If we commit to this we risk everything.’

The magician nodded. ‘I have doubled my strength. This time, I will not falter.’

‘That’s good,’ the captain told him with a wry smile, ‘because we have called for the fleet to be readied. They should be here with the dawn. And with the Emperor at our lead, the men will fight to double their capacity. Hopefully, when they see him it will counter their fears of you. You know they speak of retaking Cintar first, and burning you second?’ he added with a smile. ‘I let them keep that slender hope; it gives them the fortitude to go on. I trust you remember the location of your room? No one would use it after you last came, so it remains untouched. I will organise lodgings for our new guests. Now if you don’t mind, I have much to do.’ The man nodded towards Leopold before leaving the room. ‘Your Majesty,’ he said in parting.

‘Your Majesty?’ Leopold repeated questioningly, looking to the magician. ‘Why did he call me that?’

‘Because the last Turian Emperor was your father, Leopold,’ Samuel told him, ‘and the sons of emperors usually inherit their fathers’ empires. Given that, Your Majesty is one such title commonly used to address said emperors.’

Leopold took a few moments to accommodate the information, until his mind focussed upon the obvious. ‘I am an emperor?’

‘Yes, Leopold. You are. You are the Emperor: the Emperor of Turia, as was your father before you ... as I have strived to make painstakingly clear.’

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