Soulstone (Eligium Series Book 4) Read online

  Martino nudged Sebastian, and he realized that the lecture had ended. He had fallen asleep. Sebastian had no idea what the point had been, much less who won the battle. Come to think of it, he was not even sure who the combatants had been. Lectures and school were new terrain for him and normally he tried to pay better attention. He had seen the benefit of this education in his travels with Krystelle.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Returning to the barracks, Sebastian threw off his tunic and collapsed into his bunk. Around him, various members of the squad bantered back and forth about the day. Most days Sebastian took part as the evening wore on. Not today. The sounds of his fellow recruits faded away as he fell into slumber.

  The dream began as it always did. He awoke to find himself in a deep cave, lit in orange and red from the lava flow running through. The heat penetrated to his bones on the side facing the flow, the other side chilled from cool mountain air blowing down the tunnel. He maneuvered himself around and luxuriated as the heat warmed his body.

  Daylight streamed into the tunnel and he prepared himself to begin the hunt. There was a hunger deep in his belly and he knew he had slept overlong. Rousing himself to crawl to the surface, he felt the Call. A demand stronger than steel shackles pulled on his heart, beckoning him to a place far to the south.

  How can this be? He wondered. The Call had not come in the long years since winning the Great Battle and the Stone was entrusted to the mountain brothers. None there would dare summon him in this manner, which was why they guarded the Stone.

  When the Call came he was bound to obey. It was bred into him and his kind from time immemorial. Crawling and scrambling he made his way up the tunnel and out into the bright daylight. Perched there on the side of the mountain, he surveyed the valley. His domain. This small piece of earth where he held dominion. Far in the distance he saw the herd of elk he so carefully cultivated. Taken from other valleys as yearlings, he had acclimated them to his scent.

  Belly rumbling, he remembered the young bull he marked out in his last hunt. Perhaps he could just…no, the Call was too strong. Unfolding his leathery wings he shook them and launched himself from the side of the mountain.

  Catching the upswell of wind he soared high over the countryside looking for the familiar river that would lead him south. There! Banking hard, he dove to skim just above the trees. It was not long before the river widened into a clear blue lake and he enjoyed the moisture on his face. He dipped, letting his claws drag in the water, casting up a fantail behind him. Lifting off, he banked toward the distant mountains. There, the Call came from there.

  Nearing the foothills, he passed over an isolated farmstead and watched the family run, scrambling for shelter. Dragons had not been seen in these parts since the Ban and the homesteaders would have quite a story. He pushed on towards the pass and swept between two snow-covered peaks, the green of the forest rushing past him even faster now.

  Passing out of the mountains he smelled blood and smoke and fear in the air. Far ahead was the familiar outline of the Cinaeth rising over the Loegaire. Many years before he and his kin gathered there before retreating to their isolated ways in the far north. All around the fortress was chaos. From the carnage, he knew the battle had been raging and the Dragon Guard was not having the best time of it.

  The Call came even stronger now, calling him to the battle. The gentle warmth was a burning fire in his bones. He had to release that fire. Swooping down, he unleashed the fire on an unsuspecting enemy.

  Sebastian started awake, drenched in sweat. The dream always ended the same, with the dragon joining the battle. The one difference was that sometimes the dragon fought with the Guard, and sometimes against. He did not understand it any more than he understood why he had the same dream almost every night.

  “The same dream again?” said Martino in a whisper, sitting up on his bunk.

  Sebastian nodded, swiveling his feet to the floor. “Exactly the same. I wish I knew what it meant.”

  “Probably just that the cook used rotten meat.”

  Sebastian gave him a sour look, “Don’t jest. I did not mean to wake you though.”

  “With all that thrashing about, it’s a wonder you didn’t rouse the whole barracks. I still think you need to tell someone about those dreams.”

  Not this argument again. “I’m sure it’s nothing,” said Sebastian. Martino looked ready to dive in with his arguments and Sebastian held up a hand to stop him. “I’ll not hear it. I do not want the Drill-master thinking me daft.”

  “Well, you are daft. Everyone knows it!”

  Sebastian squirmed, still not sure how much the squad knew about how he had come to join the Squires. He shut it down before it went farther. “I suppose you’ve got naught better to do than berate your betters. I’m going back to sleep. First call will be here afore we know it.”

  Martino looked ready to press the issue further, opening his mouth to continue. Sebastian glared at him and he thought better of it. Grumbling, he laid back in his bunk, wrapping the blanket about him and turning to face away from Sebastian. For his part, Sebastian laid back down and fell into a dreamless sleep.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Bouncing along in the coach, Sterling Lex rode in silence with one hand resting on the leather-bound book in his lap. With the Chronicles in his possession, he was loath to let it out of his sight. Radomil and Witek sat across from him, deep in their own thoughts. He had brought the two sorcerers with him on this journey, leaving Tapani at Cinaeth to prepare the fortress and organize the myriad of small armies arriving even now. The pieces were moving into position and he would soon assume his rightful place—the place stolen from him—and exact his revenge on both Uriasz and Gabirel at the same time.

  On the road two full days, he had spent the time meditating on recent events and discussing his plan with his two companions. It grated traveling by these means, but it would not do for him to appear at this destination by a less traditional form of travel. His plans were at a critical juncture and he could not afford to jeopardize them through impatience or carelessness. The time spent was not completely in vain, he had a clearer picture now of this young upstart, Sebastian Pwyll.

  The source of the young man’s abilities had become more clear once his parentage was revealed. However, Sebastian's ability to control the Eligium troubled him. That should not have been possible, even with his half-elven ancestry. That knowledge instilled in Lex a feeling of urgency to accomplish his purpose and return to Cinaeth.

  Studying Radomil, he considered what to do with the sorcerer. Radomil failed in his last mission. He had returned with the Chronicles, but lost both Cenric Brice and the Dragonstone. All that effort spent to bring the boy over wasted. Lex still felt the boy through the link he had created. He was out there in the distance, most likely under the care of the healers at the Dazhberg. Lex reinforced the link as he could, but dared not pour too much into it or the wizards at the Dazhberg would sense his influence.

  With a clatter of horses, the coach shuddered to a halt and the door opened. Looking out, Sterling Lex saw they had arrived at their destination. Stepping down, he waved away the footman who opened the door. Adjusting his robes, the sorcerer looked around the courtyard. Cynneweald still recovered from the devastation wrought by the Dragon Wars, yet this place appeared untouched in its grandeur.

  A marble fountain stood in the center of the courtyard, four leaping dolphins chiseled out of the stone with streams of water shooting from their mouths high into the sky. Even in the heart of winter, a green lawn surrounded the fountain, with a gravel pathway encircling the lawn. The granite making up the walls on three sides appeared to be marble itself. On the fourth side a set of broad steps led to the doors of the palace that was the focal point of the courtyard. Eight tall columns soared into the air, four on either side of the enormous oak doors.

  Sterling Lex was more than annoyed that the Chamberlain had not come to greet him, instead a minor functionary waited on the bottom step, hi
s robes of office brushing the ground. With Radomil and Witek in tow, Lex stalked over to him. With a small bow, the functionary greeted Sterling Lex with the name he used to mask his true identity here, “My Lord Iacchus, I am Lorcán. We had not expected you to return so soon?”

  “Where is the Chamberlain?” said Lex, ignoring the implied question.

  “He is in the Council chambers. When the guards relayed word you were arriving, he left instruction for you to be brought there once you freshen yourself from your journey.”

  Lex waved his hand, “Take us there at once, the rest can wait.”

  Looking over Radomil and Witek, Lorcán crunched his nose, “My instructions concern only you my Lord.”

  “They will come with me to bear witness,” said Lex, pressing on this man’s mind. “They are Radomil and Witek the Dwarf.” His companions would be necessary for what he had planned.

  Lorcán bowed, his eyes glazing over. “Follow me,” he said, his voice turned to wood. The man turned and led the three sorcerers into the palace. Lex knew the way, but his subterfuge at court required observing the proprieties. Leading them down a long corridor that was wider than the road they had traveled on and paved with marble tiles, Lorcán made good time. Reaching the double doors at the end of the corridor he rapped twice and stepped back.

  A moment later the doors rumbled open to reveal two ceremonial guards in their polished armor. Decorative plumes of green crested from their helmets with a green eagle embroidered on their surcoats. Seeing Lorcán with Sterling Lex, they stepped back to allow entrance. Passing into the chamber, Lorcán announced his charges, “The Lord Iacchus and two witnesses, Radomil and the Dwarf known as Witek.”

  “Come forward,” said a sonorous voice coming from an elderly woman standing to the right of the throne. The Chamberlain Tacita was a humorless soul, but excellent at her job. She had more power than most of the nobles left in Cynneweald and Sterling Lex had cultivated her carefully.

  Striding down the aisle with Radomil and Tapani in tow, he noted the presence of key members of the king’s inner council. There was Dubhain, the Exchequer, seated beside Lord Birghar, ostensibly in charge of trade for the kingdom, along with General Mladen Vasco and an array of others. A young blonde woman stood apart from the rest, that would be the king’s fiance. Standing in front of the king giving petition, wearing one of their hallmark red robes, stood one of the Krenon.

  “Lord Iacchus,” said King Ercanbald as Lex reached the base of the dais and bowed deeply. “We had not looked for your return so soon. This timing is fortuitous. A grave matter is before us and I would know your council. But perhaps you have news yourself?”

  “My Liege, I am but your servant. My news can wait, I would learn what this Krenon has to say and why he is here. There has not been a delegation from the Krenon Brotherhood to your court in many years.”

  “This is Brother Kestutis, newly anointed First of the Krenon Brotherhood,” said the king. “Let us hear your tale again, Kestutis.”

  “Ercanbald,” he began. Murmurs of protest rose in the assembly. “I do not call you king because the Brotherhood recognizes no king, just our noble cause.” The murmurs redoubled and the Krenon raised his voice overtop them, “I will be short. The Criminals and Defiers of Uriasz have crossed the final line and their co-conspirators in Gabirel have joined with them. They killed the prior First of the Brotherhood and stolen from him that which was given to our possession, the Eligius Psuchia. We would know, does your kingdom declare war on the Krenon? Do you defy the precepts of the Ban? Or will you bring your dogs to heel? I have heard much talk from this council, but no answers to these questions.”

  “Lord Iacchus, your ears are fresh,” said the King. “What do you say?”

  Sterling Lex furrowed his brown beneath the high widow’s peak of his grey hair, giving the impression of thought. The Krenon's arrival was unlooked for, but would work to his favor. “My King, you should hear the tale from these two witnesses. It speaks to the matter before you.” Ercanbald inclined his head and Lex gestured Witek forward. “This is the Dwarf Witek of Hallvard, heed what he has to say.”

  “King Ercanbald,” said the dwarf in his gravelly voice. “I am no emissary or such, just a humble dwarf, but I bring grave news. The Dragonstone has been stolen from Hallvard.”

  The murmuring rose in volume and the king raised a hand to quiet the crowd. “It has been long since a dwarf graced these halls. You are welcome here, Witek. Now tell me, who could do such a thing, and why has the Gundarian Council not sent an official missive?”

  “Thank ye for yer welcome. The answers to yer questions are the same. Only a wizard of great power could have taken the Dragonstone and that means Uriasz. If they’re involved, ye can bet Gabirel is too. The council don’t know it can trust you. What’s to say you aren’t a part of this.”

  “Your logic makes sense,” said the king. “But I find it difficult to believe Gabirel and Uriasz are capable of such treachery.”

  “Then you should listen to my other witness,” said Lex, motioning for Radomil to step forward.

  Bowing low, the wizard began the story they worked out on the way from Cinaeth. Weaving his tale, Radomil described how he had become privy to a conversation intimating that Gabirel sent an expedition to Ha’vehl’on and removed the Moonstone from its hiding place there. Lex pressed on the King’s mind through the link he formed many weeks prior. A link reinforced through the obsidian stone recovered from Cenric Brice. It was risky with the Krenon brother standing there, but Lex needed to be sure these events played out correctly.

  “These are grave accusations,” said the King. “Iacchus, What advice would you give your king?”

  “Just this,” said Lex. “Summon Gabirel to answer for their crimes. Let them stand before you. I fear what is coming. By these tales, they now possess four of the five Eligium. Why? Unless they plan to seize power? As I have said many times, Gabirel is jealous of power. A darkness grows in the Dazhberg, you must bring the light!”

  “My Lord…” said the blonde woman, “if I may be so bold?”

  “Tanjia, you are my affianced,” said Ercanbald. “Your counsel is always welcome here.”

  “Whatever differences the Crown has had with the Krenon Brotherhood in the past, they have ever been steadfast in their purpose to prevent a recurrence of the depredations caused through the unfettered use of magic. If Gabirel and Uriasz are moving to accumulate power, they must be brought into line and reminded that you are their King.”

  Sterling Lex considered the woman in a new light. She practically reeked of ambition. He would have to pay closer attention to her and how she might be used to further his purposes.

  The king nodded, “You may be right. But Gabirel is strong. What if they come in force?”

  Lex smiled thinly, “Another place, then. Do not summon them here.” He cocked his head and then raised his eyebrows as if the idea had just occurred to him. “As my Lord knows, I have taken possession of the fortress Cinaeth. It is strong and easily defended. I offer it to you, summon them there.”

  The king nodded, “It has the feel of rightness to it, that place was the beginning of the end of the Dragon Wars. Perhaps we can prevent another war. Brother Kestutis, will that course give the Krenon satisfaction?”

  The Krenon leader nodded in agreement. “It gladdens me to learn this court recognizes how Gabirel has overstepped.”

  “Indeed,” said Lex. “Is it not as I had warned, my King? If your Grace agrees I will draft a missive to send by way of the royal Herald.”

  “If only I had more loyal servants like you, Iacchus,” said King Ercanbald, signaling that the audience was at an end.

  Sterling Lex left the chamber, Witek and Radomil close on his heels. “Return to Cinaeth and prepare for my arrival,” he ordered once they were out of earshot. “There is yet work to do here.”

  Making his way down the hallway, Sterling Lex considered the presence of the Krenon Brother Kestutis in the palace. It
would not do at all for that one to gain a hint of his true identity. The Krenon could be used and guided when handled properly, but they could also be dangerous when provoked. Nearing the last turn before his room, the flickering of lamplight from beneath a door caught his attention. Strange, as that chamber had been unoccupied for some time.

  Instincts telling him there was something going on in that room which would be of benefit to him, Sterling Lex moved closer to the door. Weaving his hands, he uttered a short phrase to cast an eavesdropping spell and cocked his head to listen. The voices were low and muffled, but intelligible.

  “You have done well here my lady,” a man’s voice. He had heard it before, but could not place the gravelly intonation.

  “With your guidance and counsel, Brother.” That high, lilting voice could only be the king’s fiance, Tanjia. “I fear that Gabirel’s still holds sway in the king’s heart.”

  “Give it time. Their alliance with the wizards will ultimately prove their undoing. The Brotherhood will see to that.” Brotherhood…that’s who the second voice belonged to! The Krenon First, Kestutis. Why would the King’s fiance be meeting with him outside of court? Pulling back his spell, Sterling Lex backed away from the door. Much as he would have like to hear the rest of that conversation, he could not risk Kestutis detecting his spell. Retreating to his chambers, he considered how to best use the knowledge of an alliance between Tanjia and the Krenon.

  His rooms at the palace supported the fiction he was nothing more than Lord Iacchus, a wealthy nobleman who gained favor with the king through sound advice. A large armchair sat next to the heath and across from a wardrobe filled with the trappings of rank. Near the window, he had placed a small desk, ostensibly to maintain his correspondence and the affairs of his estate. If he could keep the servants out of the room without raising suspicion, he would.