Fate Rides Wicked: Volume I of the Lerilon Trilogy (5 page)

With an exhalation of breath, he turned and sprinted
down to his suite beginning with the next and last door on
the right. He went to his washroom and began the melting
of the silver. While the heat rose he mixed the other
ingredients.

He could hear Cort arrive and enter his suite across the
hall as he completed the potion. He carefully poured a
small amount, about half, into a vial and slipped it into his
tunic. He placed the other half in a little nook under the
sink with all the evidence. Above the basin, a small mound
of clay, the same grey color of the wall under the tap,
waited for him to cover up the hiding place, which he did.

His evil smirk crossed his face. In one hour he would
be called to his duties as helper to Tych on this, the 150th
birthday of the second son of the king of the endarils, the
marking of his adulthood and his right to wear the white,
royal armor of a warrior of the di Corl family.

All the servants of the castle held the great wizard Corl
in awe. He took counsel from the greatest of all dragons,
Buhlaht, after all, and they both feared and loved him.
Those that served Morg and Greentree as they bathed
together in preparation for the ceremony therefore
responded immediately, without checking with the king and
queen, when the wizard ordered them to depart. Corl
circled to one of the benches near the tub and set down his
short, light frame on one of the two benches in the room.

Noticing the two waiting patiently with their attention
riveted on him, he began. “I am about to tell you
something you may find disturbing but I will not have
begun to tell you the entire story.”

Greentree scowled and interrupted him. “Tell us
everything, Corl, or I will test the human proverb that
‘sometimes steel is stronger than magic’.”

Corl turned solemn. “Do not be hasty, Greentree. I
love all my family more than myself. Though I may lose
your respect in the short term, I am convinced you will see
the wisdom in the future when everything has happened. I
once felt that I should reveal all there is to know but
Doleof, Buhlaht’s oldest guard, has shown me the wisdom
of my actions.”

Greentree interrupted him once more. “Before Rutif’s
father and Lendril’s grandfather, Thain, died, he related a
rumor to me that you had been in a battle with Rangdor
during one of your absences. Tell the truth of that and I
will allow your withholding.”

“Very well, since it will explain why I trust Buhlaht and
the dragons which guard him.

“Soon after I created the Staff of Two Magics, I
decided to test it. Since I needed a place where there were
no humans and that I knew well enough to teleport to, I
chose the Field of Scars, where our village met its fate and
was destroyed. I cast an ice storm spell and suddenly two
creatures roared into the sky. At first I couldn’t tell what
they were.

“They were tangled in mortal combat but I could see
flashes of platinum and there seemed to be a large black
area. Suddenly, an explosion separated them and the
platinum object went spinning into the distance. With them
separated, I realized what I saw as blackness. It was
Rangdor. I knew before the dragon shape came into view
that the other combatant was Buhlaht.

“I knew the platinum lord of dragons could not defeat
or vanquish Rangdor on his own and I was confused by
him being alone. Conjuring up the image of a gold dragon
in my head, I teleported to it. The risk of ending up in a
wall almost dissuaded me but the battle had to be shifted.
The dragon’s first reaction was to rip me to pieces but I
quickly informed him that my staff held great power, which
would make him no match for me.

“He said he’d test that theory if I didn’t proceed with
my reason for being there. I quickly told him that he
needed to inform the Guards of Buhlaht that their lord
battled over the Field of Scars against Rangdor. He
laughed so hard he could barely see me. I ran to him and
teleported both of us to the field. His name is Doleof.

“The battle had moved more towards the valley but the
dragon knew instantly that his master fought there. He
thanked me for the service and told me he was a Guard, and
then he vanished.

“I wasn’t sure I could help but decided anything I did to
distract Rangdor would give Buhlaht the time he needed. I
pointed my staff at the blackness and fired off a lightning
bolt. Much to my horror, Rangdor turned at me. Buhlaht,
however, took advantage of the opportunity and breathed a
bolt of pure, good energy. I covered my eyes because the
sparks that flew made it seem like the sun had exploded.

“When the smoke cleared, the blackness remained but
smaller. For the first time I could see five red ‘eyes’
looking at me from the void. One of them swung and fired
a red beam at the lord of dragons and Rangdor continued
towards me. In those next few moments I used up all the
charges firing one bolt after another. Then all the charges
were gone and I realized I had cut off my best retreat. Just
as I cursed my error and prepared to die, ten gold dragons
roared into the sky and let loose with such psychic blasts
that the blackness vanished from the air for a moment.
When it returned to view, it was smaller than the platinum
dragon.

“I cast my phase spell and a fly spell and lifted into the
combat. Rangdor still had some fight in him but after a few
blows by Buhlaht and his guards, as well as some of my
own offensive spells, he sped north, the blackness as big as
a human. Buhlaht and several of his guards were seriously
injured so a chase was out of the question.

“Settling to the ground, the dragons and I stood and
looked at each other for a long moment. Then Buhlaht
spoke. ‘I am deeply indebted to you but for the fact that it
was your village I was trying to save. I will return the
favor by advising you in how to help Tych survive his
evolution,’ and here I omit what he said Tych will be. He
never made a mistake about any of the problems Tych
would have and his advice has made it possible to still have
a living child to this day.

“There is a prophecy which he related to me that I came
here to tell you, my reason for being here. According to the
prophecy, Tych will be cast out from the valley for a crime
he commits before he takes the oath that forbids him from
dealing with humans. Since tonight he takes that oath, I
fear this may happen soon.”

“Do you believe in prophecy, Corl?” Morg had
climbed out of the tub and stood drying himself.

“No, not usually. But Buhlaht says this one must come
true even if Tych does not commit a crime.”

This astonished Greentree. “We are to cast our son
from the valley, innocent or guilty, so that he doesn’t take
an oath? I won’t go along.”

“My daughter by love, almost one hundred years ago
you promised to trust me in matters of Tych. Do that now.
The time is near for you to make a sacrifice so that Tych
may live.”

Greentree climbed out of the tub and picked up a towel.
She approached Corl. “You have gone too far. My son is
the light of my life and an object of greatness for my
people.”

Morg intercepted her. “I think we should decide this if
something happens. If you’re wrong Corl, Tych takes the
oath. If a crime is committed and Tych has nothing to say
for himself, we will do as you say.” He looked deep into
his beautiful lover’s eyes, seeing deep into her affection for
him. “We must do as we said we would so many years
ago.”

Suddenly, a scream reached them from down the hall
and they could hear a servant yelling, “Guards! My Lord!
Come quickly, something terrible has happened!”

Greentree fell to her knees, her towel falling to the
ground, as Corl and Morg ran from the bathroom.

Crat came out from Tych’s suite to see Corl entering his
parents’ suite. He paused to see what happened next and
moments later the servants came out and went down stairs.
Myla had appeared as ordered by Crat and he realized he
had to move quickly. Tych wanted a glass of wine and
Crat had insisted that he be the one to get it.

He ran down the stairs in his usual fashion and headed
through the throne room to the kitchen. This door hid
behind a curtain to the right of the throne. Upon entering,
Crat made a show of ordering people around. “Gudiln,
fetch me a wine cup. You, mere slave,” he was fond of
calling the volunteer servants this, “fetch the finest wine
not reserved for the dinner.”

After his previous run-in with Crat, Gudiln scurried into
a small room and returned with a fine, wooden cup. The
servant had left in a little less of a hurry, but at a fast pace.
Crat waited for her to reappear, but it took five minutes.

Crat poured the wine into the cup, set it down on the
counter under the knife rack, turned, and punched the
servant in the face, knocking her to the floor. “You’re
fired!” He bellowed. “Leave at once.”

Then he picked up the wine cup and left. He failed to
notice Gudiln and the others helping the stricken servant.
With a quick trot, Crat crossed the throne room and slowed
at the bottom of the stairs. He listened for the sound of
Corl but heard nothing. With quiet steps he climbed to the
landing. Reaching into his tunic, he pulled out the vial and
poured its contents into the wine. It bubbled for a minute
then vanished.

Crat felt a moment of doubt and tasted a small sip.
Quickly he remembered and spit it out but he smiled. The
wine tasted fine.

Tych smiled as Crat entered, encouraged by this show
of brotherly love. The two females moved away in disdain
for the thief, as Crat hoped they would. He knelt down
next to his brother’s head and handed him the wine.

The prince drank it quickly and his expression went
blank. Without the servants hearing Crat whispered, “Kill
Myla with your dagger.”

The weapons belt lay nearby and as Crat stood, Tych
reached for it. The women had been talking and Tych’s
actions went unnoticed as he drew a throwing dagger and
fired it at Myla. The shorter servant screamed. Myla’s
eyes grew wide and she reached for her neck. The servant
collapsed as her last breaths left her.

Crat screamed at Tych as he came out of his trance.
“Look what you’ve done! You’ve killed her.” He turned
to the servant. “Get help before he kills you too.”

Tych tried to speak and reached out as if to stop her but
this only made her move faster. He realized that there had
been something in the wine and looked for the cup. Crat
had already hid it and replaced it with a silver cup used for
untainted wine earlier. He scrambled out of the tub, frantic.
The thief backed away but Tych’s anger was turning to
sadness for his brother. Just then, Morg, naked since he
dropped his towel, Corl and the guards entered with the
servant cowering behind them.

Tych sunk to his knees in his sadness and, now, despair
and broke into tears. Morg crossed to stand over his son,
looking beyond him to the crumpled body of Myla. “What
do you have to say to defend yourself?”

Tych merely continued his silent crying. Morg turned
to Crat. “What happened?”

“He drank a cup of wine and lost it, throwing the knife
at Myla.”

“Tych, speak now or face your sentence.” Since speech
had fled him, Tych merely kept crying. The king turned to
Corl. “See if Crat is lying.”

Corl incanted and Crat shivered slightly. In a moment,
Corl lied, “He’s telling the truth.”

The maid came forward. “I saw it too. He went mad.”

“Where’s the cup?”

Tych sat up suddenly and pointed at the thief. Crat
pointed at the clean cup. Morg took the cup and incanted,
weaving a spell over it.

Sadly the wizard began towards the door. “There is
only wine residue. I sentence him to banishment. Carry it
out Corl.”

Corl touched Tych’s head and said, “Tych, you are no
longer welcome in the valley.” The protective spells on the
valley were activated and Tych vanished.

Corl strode from the room and returned to the royal
chamber. “He is gone. Cancel the ceremony and let us
begin our grieving.”

Greentree turned to Morg and looked up into his face.
Morg nodded and took her into his arms as she burst into
tears, his own coming in torrents. Corl, too, began to cry,
but with the small hope he had put in Tych’s future easing
the pain.

For the following day, the village grieved. Lendril had
asked Rutif, her father, if she could go to the castle, but he
repeatedly said no. She respected his order and for the first
time in fifty years, she went without seeing Tych for more
than twenty-four hours.

Early the next morning, she once again asked her
father. “Father, may I go to the castle to hear the story
from those that were there?”

Smaller than the other endarils, Rutif looked directly
into his daughter’s jade eyes with his dark blue ones. “You
really love him, don’t you?” She nodded and a single tear
came down her cheek. “Go. You deserve to hear the story
more than anyone else outside his family.” Rutif’s black
hair fell to the nape of his neck in curly springs as he shook
his head at his departing daughter. Then he turned back to
his business of tailoring, trying to squeeze a belly made
large by peace into his chair.

Lendril ran to the castle and the guards let her by,
feeling great sympathy for her, enough to disobey the order
to seal off the castle for one week. The warrior knew that
Corl would be the most stable through all this and began up
the stairs.

She knocked on the wizard’s door and it swung open on
its own accord. Cautiously, she entered the domain of
Corl, the greatest wizard in the entire continent of Li, or the
planet Lerilon. To her left near her a wide bed sat against
the wall. To her right the room seemed to extend on for
quite a distance with windows on one side and bookshelves
on the other. She turned and walked towards a desk set up
against the windowsill where Corl sat, watching her.