* * *
Cor found that the Loszian countryside looked little different than that of Aquis. It was rather boring and uneventful, and Wrelk kept to himself the rest of the journey. Cor did not even attempt to engage the man, or his cohorts, in conversation. They kept up their pace, and they reached their destination before noon on the second day since leaving the mountains behind. The group topped a small hill and upon looking down in the valley, Cor knew where they headed. In the center of the small valley stood a small black castle, similar in size to what Sanctum once had been. A black curtain wall surrounded the castle with towers at each of the four corners; it was a relatively unimaginative design, but Cor didn’t doubt its effectiveness. A cluster of small buildings stood directly outside the walls, and farms extended outward for several miles around.
As they descended into the valley and passed through the farmland, what Cor saw shocked him. The various crops were not well tended; Cor doubted that even half of the impending harvest would be edible. The people, mostly men, he saw working the fields were filthy and emaciated, driven only by a lack of anything else to do or the whip of an overseer. The workers looked no different from other Westerners, but the armored overseers clearly had varying amounts of Loszian blood.
As they approached the castle, Cor could see that the wall and castle were made from the same black stone he had seen at the Loszian side of the Spine. The stone shined dark purple with light reflected off of it, and it clearly had some special significance for the Loszians. Cor idly wondered if they somehow made the stone themselves through their sorcery. Just outside the curtain walls stood a number of squat buildings; a few were made from timber, but most of them were clay and mud huts. He could see into some of the huts, as they had no doors except perhaps and animal skin, and they were stark and filthy inside. Children ran freely here playing, but not with the same joy Cor remembered as a boy, while teenaged girls sat or stood nearby idly watching.
A wide, deep moat surrounded the walls, though it was empty, and a ten foot wide drawbridge crossed the moat allowing entrance into the castle. As they passed through the gate, Cor noted the heavy black iron portcullis drawn up overhead, clearly another affectation popular with the Loszians. The wall’s interior was far larger than Sanctum’s had been, but the spaciousness was lost to a large number of black stone buildings. He spotted the usual services a castle would need, such as a blacksmith, armory and cooper, but there were many nondescript buildings with closed doors. Wrelk explained that Taraq’nok’s captains and agents of Loszian blood lived within these, while his lieutenants and direct servants stayed within the castle. The castle itself looked very little different from Sanctum outside of the color and one large tower that was completely open to the outside at the spire.
The men dismounted, and their horses were led away by stable hands, with yet another warning from Cor regarding Kelli. He had grown rather fond of the palomino and had long decided he would violently eviscerate anyone responsible for mistreating or harming her. They entered the keep through double doors of iron banded oak, and it seemed to Cor that nearly every door of every large building he had ever seemed was made in the same manner. They stood in a small room, the walls of which were the same black stone with sconces holding torches. A guard wearing a suit of black chain mail conversed briefly in hushed tones with Wrelk before turning and passing through the next set of double doors.
“We wait now,” Wrelk said. “When we are summoned, I will walk ahead of you and my men behind. Kneel when we do.”
The wait was brief, though it didn’t seem that way to Cor. Anxiousness gnawed at him, and it took all of his willpower to not pace the room or climb the walls like a trapped animal. He forced himself to keep in mind what he needed from this Loszian. The man’s servant had murdered his parents, and his men had lit fire to Sanctum, eventually causing its complete destruction. The necromancer was his only link to information about Noth and his citadel. To risk that through rash temper, likely leading to his own death, would be exceptionally irrational, and the slight tingling sensation where Soulmourn hung at his hip did not help the situation.
The double doors to the antechamber opened from the other direction, and the black mailed guard, with another, stood at attention to either side. Wrelk began a measured pace into the room beyond, with Cor trailing several feet behind and the other two men from their short trek just behind him. Again Cor marveled at the similarities in architectural design; the antechamber opened into a large hall with an open windowed ceiling perhaps forty feet overhead. The hall was perhaps eighty feet long and about thirty feet wide with eight large columns, four on each side. The room was made of the same black stone, of which Cor assumed the entire castle would be built, and many torches illuminated it. Again, there was a raised platform at the far end of the hall, though not nearly as large as in the palace in Byrverus, with six black steps leading up to a high backed throne apparently carved of pure ebony.
Cor certainly had no difficulty recognizing the figure sitting on the throne; it was the Loszian that faced him at Sanctum, the same he once saw in Katan’Nosh. There was no question he was tall, and even sitting flush against the back of the ebony throne, his hands hung off the end of the armrests, and his knees jutted out from the throne by several inches. He had long fingers, similar to the Loszian Menak, and Cor still couldn’t help but compare the Loszian to a spider. His head and face were shaved completely smooth, which combined with his pale complexion, added to his abnormally gaunt appearance. The Loszian had a small but pointed chin, an angular face with a seemingly tall forehead and understated ears. He wore silk robes similar to those of Lord Menak, but of black and purple.
As they approached, he stood from his throne, standing at a full height easily six inches over Cor, and on the raised platform he appeared as a giant. Wrelk and his two men immediately dropped to both knees, their heads hanging from their shoulders so that their faces pointed to the ground. Cor did not kneel or bow in any way; he would go along with this Loszian so long as he attained the information he needed, but he would not show any degree of fealty to him.
“Lord Taraq’nok, I have found the man as Your Excellency has commanded,” Wrelk said without looking up, his voice raised to be heard.
“You serve me well Wrelk, but where are my other two servants?” The Loszian’s voice was smooth as ice and moderately pitched.
“My most humble apologies, Excellency. Dahken Cor eliminated two of them in a misunderstanding regarding custody of his sword. I did not anticipate he would be so protective of it.”
“No doubt he was,” the Loszian paused, looking Cor over with interest. “Why did you not bring the corpses back to me so they may continue to serve?”
“My lord, I did not think Lord Menak would allow us to pass should he known there was violence.”
“There is truth in that Wrelk. Fear not, you are absolved from blame.”
“Excellency,” Wrelk paused, as being the bearer of bad news to a Loszian lord was not advisable, “I relay a message from Lord Menak as well. He says that your payment in gold is not enough, and that you owe him a great boon for allowing the Dahken to pass.”
“Yes,” Taraq’nok said with a quiet sigh, “I expected as much. You see Dahken Cor, it is policy of the Loszian Emperor to kill Dahken on sight.”
“You haven’t killed me yet. Your servants, like poor marksmen, can’t seem to hit the target,” Cor said. He knew he could push the Loszian too far, but he couldn’t help making sure Taraq’nok knew this would not be one sided. This was the second such game Cor had played recently, and though he wasn’t totally sure of the rules, Cor obviously had an asset that made even a queen think twice.
“Killing you was never my intention, Dahken. Though, I must say I am perturbed at you; that is now six of my servants for whose deaths you are responsible.”
“Three Loszian,” Cor corrected. “The first, Dahken Rael killed, when he saved me fr
om being kidnapped. The second died inside Sanctum, which had nothing to do with me, and the weasel you left at Sanctum died from a very unfortunate fall off of a decaying stone wall. But, I don’t think the score is even. Your man killed my parents, and they were worth all of your men’s lives, if not yours as well.”
“I don’t believe you have come all this way in a vain attempt to slay me,” Taraq’nok responded, a slight smile touching the corner of his lips, though his voice had quieted slightly.
“You have spies in the palace in Aquis,” Cor said; it was a statement not a question, and the Loszian laughed at it.
“Of course I do. I suspected, as the highest in Garod’s order,” this Taraq’nok said with venom, “the queen would have some knowledge of you. The West has tried valiantly to eliminate all history of your race, but only where common knowledge is concerned.
“However, now I have to rectify another problem, for I am not the only Loszian with spies in Byrverus. By now, the emperor knows there is a powerful Dahken in Losz. Lord Menak knows Wrelk is my servant, and if forced, he will divulge that to the emperor. I will have to provide proof of your death, perhaps your severed head carried by your reanimated corpse.”
Cor instinctively drew Soulmourn and Ebonwing, bringing reactions from guards in various positions in the hall, including Wrelk and his two men. It surprised him that Taraq’nok would go to this much trouble only to kill him, especially as he had just said that was never his intent, but Cor would not stand idly by and allow it to happen. He would kill as many of the Loszian’s servants as he could. He felt an urge to begin the slaying with Wrelk, but Cor held his ground, awaiting the next move.
“Put your weapons away Dahken,” Taraq’nok said. “I have other ways to make the emperor believe I have killed you, and I will show you those in due time. For now, let us end this nonsense. I have had an adequate set of quarters arranged for you here in the castle. Please make yourself more comfortable, and then we shall meet for supper. I am sure it has been at least a week since you have had a decent meal.
“Dahken Cor, welcome to the Loszian Empire and your future.”
28.