“There! Required a little delicacy, but that should work!” As the goateed mage had pulled away, Tyros had collapsed in a heap, as if dead. However, Valkyn had pronounced him well but unconscious. “He will wake after a while, but it’s possible that he won’t remember anything of this meeting. I’ll be interested to see if that holds true. The human mind is much more durable in some ways than those of a dwarf or an elf. Did you know that?”
She had not known it, and she didn’t want to ask how Valkyn had come to that conclusion. He had always tended to learn through experimentation. “What will you do with him?”
“I haven’t decided yet,” he replied, his old smile back in place. “Is he a good friend of yours?”
“I’ve known him for only a short while.” Despite saying that, Serene had already realized that Tyros could never have become another Valkyn. Even in the past, the cleric had recognized a reckless side to Valkyn, although at the time she had found it more exciting than potentially evil. Tyros, on the other hand, seemed to care more about life in general and had shown personal concern for her.
Valkyn had summoned two of the disturbing shadow servants, creatures that the cleric realized had once been human. Their arrival had presented yet an even more horrific side to the man she had once thought was her true love.
“Put this in one of the cells for now. You.” He had pointed to the largest of the gargoyles. “Go along with them, Crag. Guard him. When he wakes, have them bring him back. He should be more docile then.”
Serene watched the hideous creatures drag Tyros off. “What did you do to him?”
“Made him more reasonable, my serenity. If he should cast a spell or even think of magic too much, his head will teach him the consequences of such actions. The same if he tries to attack me physically.” He shrugged. “I must protect myself, after all.”
With Tyros gone, Valkyn had insisted that she join him on a great couch in the center of the room. The wizard acted as if neither their time apart nor his madness had ever happened. More than once the gloved hands had caressed her or touched her hair, and it had been all she could muster to not cringe or shiver. Serene had called on her training as a cleric of the Bard King, knowing that for a time she had to suffer Valkyn’s advances if she hoped to help the others. She had no idea what had happened to Rapp and Captain Bakal, but slowly she had gathered that some of the gargoyles continued to hunt for them in and around the castle grounds. That had, for a time, given her hope.
The second encounter between the two wizards had crushed that hope, though, as first Tyros had unwittingly repeated his attempt on Valkyn, this time failing to even reach his adversary. Then, no longer seeing any use of Tyros as an ally, Valkyn had brought them both to this underground chamber to confront yet another monstrous display of his growing evil.
With this, the last vestiges of the cleric’s love for the older spellcaster had died. Serene hadn’t had to ask what poor soul hung between the great marble columns; Tyros’s reaction had answered that. Leot of the Order of Solinari. So Tyros’s search for Leot and hers for Valkyn had both ended in horrible failure, despite the fact that each had found whom he or she sought. At least Tyros hadn’t discovered his friend at the heart of the darkness.
“Is he … is he dead, Valkyn?”
He misunderstood her, thinking she worried still about Tyros. “Of course not, my serenity! He would be a wasted asset then. No, he’ll live.” To the shadows, the wizard commanded, “Take him back again, but have him readied. The time nears!”
“What about … what about him? Does he … does he live?” She pointed at Leot.
Valkyn’s eyes brightened, as they always did when he discussed a project of interest to him. How terrible that Serene had once looked into those blue eyes and found them beautiful. “Now, that is an interesting question. At this point, I’d have to say both yes and no, my love. No, the man who used to reside in that head is no more, but, yes, the body functions and an essence of some sort still exists.” He indicated the shadow servants. “A very functional, useful essence, I’ve found.”
The cleric shuddered. So her suspicions concerning the robed figures had been well founded. “So they’ve all been a part of this experiment of yours?”
“An integral part! These subjects were used for the preliminary tests, which proved quite successful, I might add! I dare say I couldn’t have done all this without them, my Serene!”
She had to find out more. “What … what role do they play?”
He walked up to her and put a gloved hand on her cheek. “Now, my dear serenity, this is something you must not bother yourself with. I know that your role with the Bard King probably makes this entire matter disturbing to you, but in my field of work, some sacrifices must be made. Consider the great mage Fistandantilus! Had he not forced himself to go beyond the accepted boundaries of the magic of his time, a number of astonishing spells would not be available to us in this day and age! I promise you that eventually I’ll have the spell work down to the point where such tactics as I’ve been forced to employ will not be necessary.”
To her mind, the most frightening aspect concerning his explanation was his absolute seriousness. Valkyn either believed his own words or hid the truth very well.
“And what about Norwych?”
A flicker of anger escaped him, quickly covered again by his congenial mask. “We’ll speak of this another time. I would rather that we dine now and talk of pleasant memories. I’ve thought of you often.”
She had to play along. When at last Valkyn gave her time to herself, then Serene could pray to Branchala, ask him for the power to put an end to her former love’s abomination … and, if necessary, him as well.
“Oh, one moment, my Serene.”
The cleric turned, expecting that Valkyn had some last adjustments to make to his barbaric device. Instead, she found herself staring into his blue eyes, and then at the hand he had brought up to her face.
“A simple precaution, my serenity! I apologize.”
He touched her temple.
The shock made her nearly fall over. Valkyn caught her in his other arm, then caressed her throbbing head with the very same hand that he had used to injure her.
“I’m terribly sorry, my Serene! It will pass, I promise you. The spell will keep you from gathering your wits enough to pray to your woodland god. I couldn’t take the chance that you might do something misguided … say, try to rescue Tyros from his fate! I need him, after all.” He looked over at the twin columns and the slumped form between. “Perhaps as early as tomorrow …”
Chapter 12
Plots and Counterplots
As the first glimmers of sunlight rose above the horizon, General Cadrio’s fleet drifted slowly toward the southern shore of Northern Ergoth, to an area frequented by few other than fishermen. The vessels anchored offshore and began lowering their longboats. By the time the sun had risen, the first soldiers of the invading force had already established a beachhead, not that they feared discovery at this point.
The Harpy floated a little farther back, enabling Cadrio to watch the glorious proceedings through the wizard’s eyeglass. He had sent Zander ahead to coordinate the landing and see to it that the invasion force remained battle ready. Cadrio himself had other plans to set into motion, plans that would require his absence from the fleet for a time.
“You had better be right, gargoyle,” he muttered, lowering the eyeglass. The commander gazed skyward, his vulpine features making it seem he hunted for prey. In essence, Cadrio did, but not the prey most of his men would have expected. The general hunted for Valkyn and his accursed citadel.
Stone had said that there would come a time when the clouds around Atriun would thin so much that the human would be able to make out every detail of the dark castle even from the ground. Then and only then would the citadel and its master truly be vulnerable, and only for a short time. If Cadrio sought to claim Atriun for his own, he would have to strike at that time.