Michael Mathias - The Wizard and the Warlord

Lyle entered the castle and noticed immediately that something was happening. Servants and ladies hurried about with strained looks on their faces. Some were carrying bundles and boxes in their arms. He saw Cresson and got his attention. The mage came over, stroking his long goatee beard and informed the commander that the king and queen would be departing for Westland on the morrow. The whole place was in an uproar trying to prepare for the departure.

“I must see him,” Commander Lyle said urgently.

“Go wait in the council hall,” Cresson told him. “The High King is in the throne room trying to explain to someone why he can’t tell them where someone else is without betraying a trust. He will probably be glad for the interruption.”

Cresson entered the throne room and gave a wave of apology for intruding on Corva and Dostin’s inquiry. He whispered in Mikahl’s ear and then stepped away.

“I’m sorry, there’s urgent business forming,” the High King said. “I’ve already told you all I can. Lord Gregory may be able to tell you more when he returns, but I cannot.” The king excused himself and followed Cresson.

Commander Lyle was pacing back and forth nervously when Cresson and the High King came into the council hall. He was surprised to see the expression on King Mikahl’s face.

“Commander,” the High King smiled. “It amazes me that you could get a wagon cage with two living skeletons in it inside the castle gates without making even the slightest of a stir. I figured the rumormongers would have carried us the tale as soon as you entered the city.”

Commander Lyle blanched. Had Petar not delivered his report? Suddenly he was very worried for the young soldier. The concern must have shown on his face.

“What is it?” King Mikahl asked. His smile had faded.

“I sent a man with a message.” He put a hand on the back of a chair to steady himself. “He should have arrived yesterday at the absolute latest.”

“We received your message about the suspect activities going on in Weir.” King Mikahl looked to Cresson for confirmation. Cresson nodded. “Obviously that is not the report you are referring to.”

Commander Lyle stepped around and collapsed into the chair. “No, Your Highness, I suppose I should tell you everything.”

King Mikahl nodded as he took a seat at the head of the council table. Cresson peeked out the door and waited there as the commander began. After a moment, a tray of refreshments was brought. Cresson took it from the servant and placed it within both the king’s and the commander’s reach. Over an hour later, Mikahl rubbed at his stubbled chin with unhidden concern showing on his face.

“Cresson, get the kingdom map,” King Mikahl said. “The big one. Commander, I want you to show me exactly where you encountered these things, and the trail that you were able to follow.”

Cresson scurried away and quickly returned with a huge map that showed the realm from Westland to Highwander. “The commander located the bridge that crossed the Pixie River and the Highwander town of Xway.” He indicated a straight line from there to just south of Seaward City.

“Mark the line please, Cresson,” King Mikahl said.

The mage traced the commander’s route with his own finger. A faint red line remained visible on the parchment where the digit passed.

Mikahl studied the direction of the mark for a moment. “Now make a line that leaves South Port in Westland going due east into the marshes. Then make a line going southeast from the town of Riverbend in northern Westland.” The High King looked at Commander Lyle for a moment, clearly focused on his thoughts. His eyes brightened. “Extend all three marks until they intercept.”

They watched with growing concern as the marks came together.

“It seems that General… Lord Spyra, rather, was correct in his assumption,” Cresson observed. “The lines all lead to the Dragon Tooth Spire.”

“Somehow, something from the hells is calling these undead skeletons to the Spire.” Mikahl shook his head. “I suspect that your man Petar was either killed, or he found a trail to follow. Either way, I think the answer to this threat lies at the Fang.”

High King Mikahl suddenly remembered something from the ceremony he, the elf Corva, and the mighty monk had interrupted. The sacrifice. The girl had just vanished. No, he decided, she was just a body the priest was going to sacrifice. Why else had her body been shaved of all its hair? The odds of her escaping the snapper-filled marshland were so slim that Mikahl let that train of thought go. The ceremony had been far to the north of the Dragon Spire. He remembered that the great seal Pavreal had made in the dragon’s lair up there had been the point where Pael had breached the Nethers and let loose the power of Shokin. It was that same power that turned all those men into undead skeletons in the first place. It was possible that some lingering magical effect was drawing them there. Or maybe one of the demons still running loose was rooted into the lair and calling them. Either way, something had to be done about it before the situation was out of hand.

It still left the question of what happened to their man Petar. Mikahl knew the young man from the training yard. He was no slouch with the blade and had the kind of self-discipline off the field that commanded the respect of his superiors. There was no reason to believe that Petar would abandon his orders. However, Mikahl could see him going off half-riled, trying to take down the things that had attacked their party and killed his friends.

“Cresson, I want you to cast a sending to every wizard, mage, and marsh witch from O’Dakahn all the way to Pearsh,” Mikahl said, running his finger up the eastern bank of the Leif Greyn River delta on the map. “Petar and his four men are to be sought out and intercepted. If they are alive, I don’t want them going off into the marshes alone. I want men from O’Dakahn to search the edge of the marsh for any sign of man or beast that shouldn’t be there. I want our people in Strond, Oktin, and Lokahn questioned to find out if Petar and his men crossed the Kahan river. I want every man in the realm on the lookout for those skeletons, too. They attacked a large group of men under my banner. I doubt they will hesitate to attack a village full of innocents, or a trade caravan.” He turned to Commander Lyle. “Tell this Lieutenant Garret I want him and the men from Weir to ride directly to Xwarda. Queen Willa will take their statements. I think a dozen-man escort should do. Tell him that, once this mess with Lord Vidian has been settled, Queen Willa or I will see to his next posting personally.” He took a deep breath and indicated for Cresson to begin with his sendings. The mage studied the map for a few more moments then moved to a corner of the room and began chanting and moving his hands about quietly.

“Commander Lyle, I want you to pick out a small group who can track and travel fast. Five or six men at the most. Backtrack from here and search for the place where Petar left the road. You told them to mark their trail obviously. I’m sure he did so.”

Commander Lyle stood and gave a curt bow.

“I will be leaving for Westland on the morrow, Commander,” the High King said. “Until Lord Gregory returns from his current endeavor you will report to me directly through Cresson. Do not move to attack these undead things. If you find nothing between here and the last place you saw Petar, return immediately and Cresson will give you my commands.”

Commander Lyle nodded again and performed a smart about-face, then left the room to carry out his orders. King Mikahl went to the closet in the council hall where he kept some personal items and fumbled through them. He waited until Cresson was between spells before he spoke. “I’m going to investigate the Dragon’s Tooth,” he said as he pulled a shirt of chain mail over his head. He refastened his swordbelt at his waist over the armor and went to draw the blade.