The Sorcerer's Scourge (13 page)

“I have felt the foulness in the air and heard of the undead that are rising, My Lord. Command me and I shall do your bidding.”

“The abominations are but the twilight preceding the darkness, my son. A greater evil exists, an evil that has bided its time for over a millennia, and it approaches. It is an evil so great it threatens even the gods. However, now is not the time to discuss such things. For now, we must contend with what is at hand before we deal with what comes tomorrow.”

“I am yours to command, My Lord.”

“I shall lift you above all others for your heart is pure and true to my teachings. Keep your Chosen close to you. Teach them and guide them in the pure truth of my word. You must be my light against the coming darkness, Thomas.”

Thomas’s mind reeled at Solarian’s words. What could he mean? How could he, the most junior of priests, teach three young Chosen and stand for Solarian above far greater men in the church? Such a thing would certainly put him at odds with some of the more senior of their order.

“Glorious One, I am awed by your faith in me, but I am just a junior priest. How can I do what you ask of me above so many more deserving?”

“Thomas, I had my Chosen long before any man built a church in my name or assumed a title to set himself above others. Trust in me and trust in yourself. I will not fail you just as I know you will never let yourself fail me. Accept my gift and let the light shine upon you so that you may become a beacon for all those that need shelter from the darkness.”

The warmth Thomas had felt earlier now felt like a fire. Not the blistering pain flames brought, but a cleansing light that suffused his body and soul. It felt as though he were a physical extension of his god and could not fathom how incomplete the life he enjoyed just a moment ago felt in comparison. His soul felt like a bird released from the cage in which it had been born. Having never flown, Thomas could never have guessed at the feeling, or that such a fundamental part of him had been missing.

He could only kneel and weep at the sensation. He missed supper and did not even notice. So lost in this moment of wondrous bliss, Thomas did not realize the hour until it was so dark inside that the only light came from the stars shining through the great window. As wondrous as Solarian’s blessing was, he could not shake the feeling of dread that this attention heralded.

CHAPTER
6

With the help of some members of the church, Samone retrieved the bodies of her fallen comrades and commenced consecrating the warrens beneath the mansion. This gave Landrin very little time to gather his things and leave the city. He was in his room, collecting a few precious books and scrolls when a brilliant glow washed over him. The light hit him with a physical force and dropped him to his knees. Had he been alive, it may have felt glorious. However, in his current condition it was nearly unbearable.

“Have you come to put an end to me, Solarian?” Landrin asked through gritted teeth.

The light faded and a rich voice full of regret responded. “I wish that I could, Landrin. No one deserves this curse, particularly one as faithful as you.”

Landrin’s shoulders slumped with regret. “If you will not cure me or release me unto death, why come to me now?”

“For ten years, you have prayed daily for release. For ten years, you have denied and fought your dark nature, and for ten years, I have watched you and listened to your prayers. We gods move slowly to your eyes, but I had to take your measure and now I have it. Events of cataclysmic proportions are even now approaching. I need you as you are to aid those who shall fight to prevent it from unfolding.”

“What must I do? What is coming?”

“First shall come a blight upon the land that wishes to cast this world into perpetual darkness. However, It is but a prelude to a far more sinister threat that, if left unchecked, shall crush this world beneath its heel. All those capable of wielding magic shall be purged, the gods shall be cast out and destroyed, and those that perish shall consider themselves among the fortunate. For those few who survive, it shall mean the end of free will and any semblance of a life worth living,” the god of light told his dark follower.

Landrin could almost detect a trace of fear in the god’s voice. What could be so terrible and so powerful as to concern a god, much less threaten to destroy them? What could he possibly do that Solarian himself could not do simply by wishing it so?

“I sense your doubts, Landrin. All creatures must obey the laws of their very nature, even the gods. A time will come when we too will join more directly in the battle that comes, but today is not our time.”

“What will you have of me, My Lord?”

“For this world to have a chance, the people must be strong. To be strong, they must be united. King Jarvin is the one to unite the kingdom under his strong leadership, but he is not yet ready. Like a sword needing tempered, he must first face the hammer and fire of the forge without breaking. Forces are set against him, many within my own church. My followers’ faith in their god is strong, but they must learn to have faith in their mortal leader as well. Such a division of faith and loyalty weakens the land and gives strength to our enemies. You shall aid Jarvin and those loyal to him.”

Landrin nodded his understanding despite the fact that much of what Solarian was saying was beyond him. “How can I aid the King, especially as I am now?”

“You feel the pull of the evil that lives far to the north. It is the creature your master called master. Soon, Jarvin will speak with a council of lords for governorship of a small but vital town known as End’s Run. You shall present yourself to him for the position.”

“How can I do that? How can I make my claim and convince him to cede such a thing to me?” Landrin asked.

A rolled velum scroll appeared in Solarian’s glowing hand and he presented it to the man kneeling before him. Landrin gently took the scroll his god offered, unrolled it, and gaped in surprise.

“It is my father’s writ of lordship handed down from his grandfather’s grandfather!” Landrin exclaimed in surprise.

“You have all the written authority you require. It is up to you to convince the King that you are worthy. You shall also present him with a gift.”

A fanciful wardrobe stood empty against the far side of the room. The crown molding and doors were stylized with the images of what could only be the northern forests. Enormous stags, bears, and other carved creatures inhabiting the forest scenes were rendered amazing detail. With a wave of Solarian’s luminous hand, numerous sigils flared briefly before seemingly sinking into the wood like beads of water on a cloth.

“What does it do?”

“You shall know when the time comes,” came Solarian’s cryptic reply.

“The paladin, Samone,” Landrin said but could not finish his sentence.

“I have welcomed her faithful friends into my kingdom. Her part is yet unfinished.”

“Will we meet again?”

“Undoubtedly. But do not hold for a joyous reunion,” Solarian cautioned him.

“She said she would kill me for what I am if we ever meet again.”

“Nothing is ever certain. Even fates shift with the cosmic currents.”

“So you say, but you speak of things that have not happened yet as though they are inevitable. Did you see me turned? Did you make it happen so that I would be here now doing what you wish to be done?” Landrin asked, unable to cover the strained resentment in his quavering voice.

“The gods can see and follow lines of fate, but we are forbidden from altering them. However, we can put pieces into play to make the best use of them. It is difficult, but I try to understand how you feel about being part of something so much greater than yourself. It feels as though your life is little more than that of a doll in the hands of a child. I share that feeling, Landrin. There are even greater forces than us gods, and we must play our part as well, often without fully understanding those things. It is especially difficult when one does not like to believe there are things greater or more powerful than they are.”

“I will do what you command, My Lord, but I do not fully understand,” Landrin replied.

“Sometimes, simply keeping faith is more important than understanding.”

Landrin looked up and found himself alone in the room once more. It several minutes to blink away the dazzling blotches of light still floating about before his eyes. At first look, everything appeared the same as it had and Landrin almost thought he had been delusional. Then he noticed the scroll in his hand and saw another on the small table near the bed. He crossed the room, read the scroll, and tucked them both away. He had a great many things to do this night and little time in which to do it.

***

Jarvin rubbed his temples as the assembled lords batted around the same argument once again. It had been going around for the better part of an hour without making an inch of progress.

“As much as you all try to deny it,” Jarvin tried once more, “the fact remains that End’s Run is a hold of the kingdom and needs a lord to administer it. There is potential for a great amount of gold to be made for whoever takes control as well as for the crown.”

“Aye, there’s also an even better potential to get a knife in the back,” Lord Abernathy replied with a laugh.

“I do not understand why you are so set on expanding the kingdom when you can barely control the one you have,” the elderly Lord Malcolm croaked. “And what of this undead menace? I have had to hire gangs of swordsmen to patrol every one of my towns before the common rabble all demand to move into my keep! What are you doing about that?”

“I have soldiers and members of the church dealing with the situation. That is not the issue at hand. At least not one that can be resolved tonight. If you are so concerned about coin, this venture could double your coffers in just a few years!” Jarvin shouted in frustration.

Lord Whittfield cleared his throat. “Your Majesty, it is just that with the current political climate, few are willing to invest in new ventures, particularly those that pose a significant personal risk and the extreme discomfort of displacement. I would be willing to assume authority of End’s Run and manage its governance through an intermediary of my choosing.”

“Do you hide behind your wife’s skirts when a man looks at you aggressively as well, Markus?” Lord Aderly called out mockingly.

Lord Whittfield’s face flushed in embarrassment and anger. “I do not see you trekking up to that godless, frozen wasteland to take direct lordship over those lawless savages!”

“Gentlemen!” Jarvin stood up and pleaded. “Despite Lord Aderly’s crassness, he is correct. I must have a true lord to govern with the full authority of the crown. A proxy simply will not do. End’s Run already boasts over four thousand citizens who went seeking their fortune. Yet only about half actually reside within the town proper. The others are spread out amongst various camps and settlements. I need someone to create a centralized, stable government.”

“Then task the Ice Queen. Her duchy is the closest to End’s Run, other than Brelland, and she openly supports you,” Lord Langdon suggested snidely.

Jarvin’s face clouded at the man’s words and it took considerable effort to control his voice. “She openly supports me while you do what? Openly contest me or is it more covert?”

The man did not even have the decency to look insulted. He simply smiled and shrugged. It was a testament to Jarvin’s self-control, or foolishness, that he did not charge across the table and hew him down on the spot. Thankfully, there came an interruption before he could decide.

The large doors to the dining hall opened and Jarvin’s seneschal stepped in. “Pardon the intrusion, Your Majesty, but there is a Lord Landrin Bailey seeking audience. He insists it pertains directly to the matter at hand.”