NOVEL NEXT Chapter Twenty-Eight
The man before Adora stood over six feet tall, his long red hair and thick beard adding to his imposing figure. He wore steel greaves and carried himself with a posture that radiated generations of power.
She leaned forward in her seat. “You say you know my husband?”
“I do.”
“You have my attention. How may I help you?”
“I’ve come to help you, Your Highness.”
She glanced over to Alistair who shrugged. Returning her attention to the man, she did her best to meet his eyes, but he wouldn’t stop flexing his impressive pectoral muscles. “How will you flex, I mean,” she stopped, feeling her cheeks warm. “I mean, what is your plan for aiding us?”
“I am Amando, Prince of the Mer. I have three courtoons of elite warriors I’m going to loan you.”
“How many is that?” Alistair said.
“A courtoon is ten thousand.”
“You’re going to loan us thirty thousand warriors?” Adora sat back. “Why?”
“I made a deal with your husband.”
“How is Carter?”
“Who?”
“My husband, Carter Blake.”
“Your Highness, I made a bargain with a man named Lavitz.”
Adora widened her eyes. ‘Kellün’s balls, Carter. Why didn’t you reveal your hidden identity to our potential ally before you sent him to me? Or better yet, why not warn me?’
“Prince Amando, I apologize, but Sir Lavitz wasn’t being entirely honest with you. He is an ally, but my husband’s name is Carter Blake.”
“He lied to me?” A scowl appeared on the Mer Prince’s face.
Adora winced. “Unfortunately… Yes.”
“That scallywag most likely won’t even do as he said and regain my family’s ancestral weapon.” His voice was almost a growl.
“Prince Amando, I can assure you he does honor his word.”
“How can you? He lies.”
She nodded. “In my experience, it’s only about relationships, not about deeds.”
“Do you trust him, Queen Adora?”
“With my life.”
“Then you’re either foolish, or loyal to a fault.”
“I am neither, sir. I am a queen who owes her throne and her life to that man. He has successfully completed every task I put before him. He is also the most honorable man I know.”
“An honorable man who lies?”
She sighed in exasperation. ‘By the Abyss, Carter. This is why you’re upfront with potential allies.’
“Everyone lies.” She said. “As a prince, you should know this better than almost everyone.”
Alistair stepped forward. “If I may interject, I believe the deal might be important.”
“Thank you, Sir Alistair.” Adora leaned back against her map table. “Prince Armando, are you still willing to loan us your soldiers?”
Amando folded his arms with slightly narrowed eyes. “Are you willing to give me your word as Queen that Sir Lavitz will honor our agreement?”
“I am.”
The prince took a deep breath and slowly let it out while considering. “Very well. I will honor my side of the bargain.” He unfolded his arms and tilted his head to her.
She straightened with a smile. “Thank you. They will come in handy against Drago’s forces.”
Amando bowed. “You’re welcome, Highness.”
“What kind of deal did you make with Sir Lavitz?”
“The kind that gains you three courtoons. The details are between he and I.”
“Would you tell me, Prince Amando?”
“I am sorry, Queen Adora, but I will not.”
“Fair enough. Thank you for the warriors. Will they need anything?”
“Access to barrels of sea water.”
“How many?”
“Ten thousand, every two weeks.”
“Ten thousand!” Alistair turned to Adora. “Your Majesty, how —”
“They will have it.”
Amado bowed and walked out. She bit her lower lip as she watched him go.
“Your Majesty, ten thousand barrels of sea water will be a logistical nightmare.”
She nodded. “That’s why we’re going to employ teleportation specialists.” She turned back to the maps on the table.
“We’ll also need the aid of some coastal towns and villages.”
“Agreed. Send emissaries.”
“As you will it.” Alistair glanced back to where the prince had exited. “I'm not familiar with the Mer. Why do they need the sea water?”
“Because they’ll dry out without it. Their kingdom is underwater.”
“They’re amphibious?”
“Yes.”
“The prince looked tasty, didn’t he?”
She whipped around. “Alistair, really?”
He shrugged. “He’s got a nice ass.”
“What about your wife?”
“She’d probably agree.”
“She wouldn’t mind?”
“After all the women she’s brought to our bed? I think she’d like the change of pace.”
“Hunh. I never knew.”
He shrugged again. “I thought everyone knew.”
“No.” She rose from her seat and crossed to the map. “I need you to send a runner to the town of Mibrey and hire teleporter mages to bring the sea waters.”
“That will be quite expensive, Your Highness.”
“The Mer will be worth it.”
“How do you know?”
“When I was a girl, I saw a Mer in the Grand Melee celebrating my parents’ anniversary. She won against a hundred other warriors without a single wound.” She glanced over her shoulder. “If one can do that, imagine how well thirty thousand will do.”
He clapped his fist over his chest and bowed. “I’ll see to it at once.”
“Thank you.”
###
Corath found himself in a room with a very high ceiling. Four intricately decorated pillars supported the twenty-foot dome. Two bronze doors, still as shiny as the day they were hung, stood partially open to the west. A fountain on the opposite side contained scarab beetles scrabbling over each other.
He stepped closer and saw it was identical to the one he’d stepped in earlier. ‘No need to go through there again.’ He rubbed his left eyebrow. ‘Not yet, anyway. I’m not leaving until I’ve found Teivel.’ Dropping his hand, he turned and crossed to the open doors.
The doors, plain and shining, had an eldritch glow about them. When he stepped through and beheld the ancient corridor before him, he heard rumblings and clicks echoing along the dimness as if traps were either activated, or deactivated. The hallway stretched endlessly down into the gloom, its sandstone walls etched with ancient runes that seemed to shift under flickering torchlight. The air was dry, suffocating, carrying the faint scent of incense long burned away, and the distant echo of something unseen—perhaps the wind, or perhaps something older, waiting. Massive stone pillars lined the passage, each carved with twisted serpents and forgotten gods, their eyes glowing faintly as if watching intruders. The silence was so heavy it pressed against his ears like a weight. Only the soft sound of sand, trickling from the ceiling, broke the stillness.
He took a deep breath and headed down the slanted corridor. It terminated in a pentagonal chamber. Two walls angled out at ninety degrees from where he stood, and the two sides furthest away angled inward to meet a wall at the far end. A great sarcophagus lay on a raised dais before that far wall. More sandstone pillars lined this ancient chamber. A mummified arm jutted from the sand as if reaching from the grave. Its desiccated fingers curled tightly around an onyx orb, veins of dark magic pulsing faintly across its surface.
‘Gruesome.’
A deep, gravelly voice boomed out, causing Corath to start.
“Who disturbs my slumber?”
The Gorauch swallowed hard, and straightened himself, tightening his hand on the hilt of his sword which he held aloft. “It is, I, Corath. You told me to seek you out.” The broad-bladed greatsword with its series of wicked barbs along the lower third of its blade gleamed in the dimness before sending out a pulse of power which collided with the sarcophagus, sending dust and sand dancing along its surface. “You said you would teach me. Do so.” He tried to ignore the faint trembling in his body.
The lid of the sarcophagus shuddered and slid open with a grinding of stone on stone which echoed through the chamber. A creature floated up and then spun upright to face him. The creature's rotting robes, once the finery of a wizard king, now hung in tattered strips, adorned with faded symbols of power. Crimson light danced in its empty eye sockets, burning with ancient malice. A faint whiff of ancient rot hit Corath’s nose as the undead creature drifted closer.
The lich stared down at him. “I am trapped in this infernal tomb. You must free me before I can teach you.” Its voice sounded as if filled with the sands of the ages.
Corath tensed. “How can I do that?”
A long, boney arm stretched out a skeletal finger, pointing at the mummified arm behind him. Corath turned and drew back his sword, ready to destroy it.
“Wait.” Dust puffed from the lich’s mouth. “Before you attack it, you must know its secret.”
The elf lowered his weapon as he turned back.
“Due to the spell I am held under, when you strike that orb, I am going to attack you. I will fight with my whole arsenal to kill you. I cannot do otherwise.”
Corath’s eyes widened. His legs tightened as he warred with his desire to run. His chest tightened, each rapid heartbeat a painful thud, as if it might explode. His breath came in ragged gasps. He swallowed hard and gripped the sword with both hands, his knuckles whitening under the strain.
He then set his jaw and gave a curt nod. ‘Slow, deep breaths. You can do this.’ He inhaled through his open mouth and pushed air through his nose, slowly. ‘Chop the orb and then dive away from it.’ He tensed his muscles.
‘Wait.’ He turned back to the lich once again. “How am I going to be able to defeat you? You’re a mage.”
“You’re going to have to figure that out for yourself.”
Corath cursed under his breath. ‘Of course, there aren’t easy answers. Never are.’ He sighed. “You’ve got to be pulling my pizzle.”
Teivel stared without responding.
The Gorauch gritted his teeth, and shifted his grip on the sword. With a mighty battle cry, he chopped the orb with all his strength. A surge of power rippled through the air as the sword cut clean through, shattering the dark onyx. Fractures spidered out in all directions, the orb crumbling to dust with a shriek that echoed like a dying scream. The warrior staggered back, the force of the blow sending a pulse of magic through his arms and he crashed to the floor on his butt, his sword clattering beside him. His arms tingled from the surge of power that went through them. Air puffed out of his mouth as he panted.
“You’ve done well—for now.” The lich landed on the floor as light as a feather. “Now, for the true test.”