“Sir, it is morning and time for breakfast,” said the steward, again hovering over Cor. He groggily opened his eyes, seeing morning light filter through his window. It faced south, so the sun always cast some amount of light through it regardless of the time of day. “I should expect you downstairs when you are ready. Also sir, I have had the liberty of sending your armor to be repaired and shined, and yes sir, your sword is still in the next room.” The man turned and left.
Cor rubbed his eyes and wondered at the propensity of that man to be everywhere at once. It was certainly possible that there were copies of the man all doing the same job, and in a bizarre way it made more sense than the concept that the one man could do everything that was clearly expected of him. Or, Cor thought still rubbing his eyes, perhaps the man is extremely efficient.
Thyss was nowhere to be seen, and the steward certainly did not act as if he had seen her in his room. This was the second woman he had lain with, and the second woman who was gone in the morning before he woke up. Sitting on the edge of the bed, Cor couldn’t help but wonder if this was standard practice among the species known as women. He had often heard talk in the bars and inns that they were never as pretty in the morning. He had always thought that a joke, but now he could not help but wonder.
Cor stood and found a freshly pressed set of clothes had been laid out for him, not too different from those Ania had given him last night, though this tunic simply pulled over the head. The thought of Ania pained him, and he genuinely hoped she was well. His old clothes, as well as his riding boots, were gone, and he found a new pair of hard leather boots awaiting him as well. The entire set of attire was black, and it dawned on Cor that every Loszian he had ever seen seemed to wear black as their primary color. He wondered about the idiosyncratic nature of people as he belted on Soulmourn and secured Ebonwing at his waist.
Cor left his quarters, noticing that the guards were no longer there, and made his way to the dining room. The steward had laid out an excellent warm meal, and Cor endeavored not to enjoy it too much, remembering that it came from the labors of slaves. While eating, his thoughts wandered to Thyss and the night before, and he began to wonder where she could be found. Cor had never had such a thought about anyone, and he wondered as to its nature in a detached way.
“Sir, I understand you did not find the accommodations completely to your liking last night,” said the steward as he cleared Cor’s meal. “Please tell me how I may rectify the situation for you.”
“Accommodations?” Cor asked, at first not comprehending. “You’re talking about Ania. No she was fine. I just don’t have need of her… services.”
“Perhaps another girl would be more to your liking, or if you have other tastes?”
“No, thank you,” Cor answered quickly. “What happened to Ania after she left my room?”
“She has been reallocated to other parts of Lord Taraq’nok’s service, sir. If you are finished, My Lord wishes to see you in his library.”
The steward led Cor back through the main hall of the castle and into a corridor that exited the rear of the room. The library was very little different from the one at Sanctum, prior to its destruction, though substantially larger. There were several plain oak tables and chairs near the room’s entrance, and Cor counted eight oak bookcases, each about twelve feet tall that ran parallel to each other deep into the room. They were all packed tightly with volumes, mostly leather bound books, but he could see that one entire bookcase was committed to scrolls. The steward left the room, closing the door behind him
“Taraq’nok!” Cor shouted. “I’m here!”
“One should not shout inside a library, Dahken Cor,” said the Loszian’s voice as he came around the corner of the furthest bookcase to the left. “Someone may well be inside trying to read.”
“Enough of this Loszian. What is it you want from me?” Cor asked.
“I sent one of my men after you when you were but a boy. It took me years to get a spy deep enough into Byrverus to find out that they knew where you were. Of course, I did not realize that my man would meet his end at the hands of another Dahken. It is really quite unfortunate; he would have lived the rest of his life in extreme luxury having brought me two Dahken at once, especially one that was trained and experienced.”
“So, you weren’t after me specifically. You are supposed to kill Dahken on sight, but you wouldn’t risk coming to Aquis to kill one or even two Dahken. Why are you trying to find Dahken?” Cor asked.
“The Dahken,” Taraq’nok patiently explained, “are perhaps the most dangerous warriors on the western continent. You are highly resistant to both the powers of Garod’s priests and Loszian necromancy. Yet your predecessors squandered their chance at greatness, refusing to take a side in the ancient conflict.”
“So you want me to join the Loszians and help you conquer the Shining West,” Cor said, inferring the logical conclusion.
“With such a powerful ally at my disposal, why would I have interest in only the Shining West?” Taraq’nok asked, the last two words said with a sneer. “Yes, Queen Erella and her allies will fall, but only after we dethrone the Loszian Emperor.”
Cor laughed in the Loszian’s face and asked, “What makes you think that I by myself can destroy both empires? And even if I could, why would I? Garod’s people are misled, certainly, but in the end their leaders are good people.”
“Good people?” Taraq’nok closed the book he had been holding and placed it on the table. “Would it shock you to know that they considered killing you as an infant? I can tell by your face you did not know that.
“The Shining West is just as corrupt and enslaving as Losz; our slaves at least are free to think as they will, so long as they serve us well. Garod enslaves the minds and wills of his people; they do nothing without consulting the clergy and the temples. You were the son of commoners; did your father tithe away his hard earned livelihood? Did he teach you total submission to the will of Garod and his pantheon of do-gooders? Does that not immediately revert to total submission of the mind to the priests, and therefore the Queen of Aquis herself?
“Look at the hypocrites they are. They have outlawed sorcery, though they practice it, and are willing to kill Loszians on sight, though any individual Loszian may have never done anything to harm their rule. They turned on the Dahken, murdering hundreds of them for no cause, and then virtually erasing them from history.
“You have in front of you an opportunity to liberate the minds of Westerners.”
“Only to enslave them bodily to you,” Cor interjected.
“Let’s not quibble over semantics and social structures,” Taraq’nok answered calmly. “When we overthrow the emperor and reunite Losz with the Shining West, we can create any system of rule we see fit. I will accede to some of your outmoded moral sensibilities if that is what you wish.”
“You still haven’t explained to me how I would accomplish all of this,” Cor said impatiently.
“We cannot overpower Aquis and the other Western kingdoms without the strength of the Loszian Empire behind us,” Taraq’nok explained. “The Loszian Empire selects its ruler by one simple criterion; he who is most powerful controls the throne. Maintaining the throne means showing that no one else in the empire can defeat you.
“Once we put you on the throne of the Loszian Empire, it will be easy to rally the empire to attack the Shining West. For over seven hundred years we have made no moves against those who rebelled against us. Many of the Loszian nobles are becoming restless; they have watched three emperors choose to live in decadence and study with no ambitions towards reclaiming the continent. With that as our intent, the nobles will quickly fall in line with us.”
“And if they don’t?” Cor asked.
“Then we will begin killing them until they do,” Taraq’nok said with a most unsettling smile.
“You still haven’t answered my question. Why am I so pivotal to all of this? I understand tha
t I have a resistance to your sorcery, but I am one Dahken. How can I make such a difference?” Cor asked.
“Yes, you are only one Dahken,” agreed the Loszian. “The Dahken used to find their own, but since The Cleansing they have basically disappeared. Surely Dahken are born every year, but with no one to find them, protect them and train them, the Dahken as a race have vanished into obscurity. Let me show you something, and then perhaps you will understand.”
Without saying another word, Taraq’nok led Cor between a set of bookcases; as he followed, Cor couldn’t help but notice the truly massive wealth of information the Loszian had amassed. At the rear of the library was a spiral stair of black stone that wound upward into the castle with no support structure of any kind that he could see; the steps seemed simply suspended in mid air. The Loszian stood several feet away from the stair and worked his fingers in a complex pattern that Cor could not seem to follow. He spoke a single word, that Cor was certain to be in Loszian, though it was not in his vocabulary, and ceased his somatic movements.
The black stone floor underneath the spiral steps dissolved into black mist, revealing more steps leading down into darkness. Cor followed Taraq’nok, who had to bend to avoid hitting his head on the steps above, down a dozen black steps into a pitch black room. The Loszian spoke another word, which was followed by a booming thud over Cor’s head, and a final word from the sorcerer brought bright light, causing Cor to shield his eyes for a moment while they adapted to the change.
The room was small, nondescript and perfectly square, and a single door of iron stood set into the wall in front of them. The Loszian unlocked it and the door swung open easily on oiled hinges. The next room was perhaps as large as the castle’s main hall and divided up into small cells by iron bars that ran floor to ceiling. The cells all had doors also of iron bars, and Cor could see no way to unlock or open them. Many of the cells contained an unmoving figure.
“Look closely at them, Dahken Cor, and tell me what you see.”
Cor did as he was bidden and began walking between the cells, looking closely at the forms. He saw young men and women, none who appeared older than himself and children of various ages, some as young as toddlers. Every one of them was completely unmoving, seemingly frozen in a disturbing caricature of life. He found one that shook him to the core, an infant perhaps no older than a few months whose face was frozen in midscream. The sight filled him with fresh hatred and loathing for the Loszian. One other fact did not escape Cor; they all had the same gray pallor that he did.
“Dahken Cor, what you see before you are those who will become our generals and commanders, those who will lead our armies to victory over both the Loszians and the Shining West,” Taraq’nok said, raising his voice slightly for it to be heard across the room. “You will make them strong, powerful, and they shall follow us to glory. Before you is the rebirth of the Dahken.”
“What have you done to them, Loszian?” Cor’s temper flared, and it was all he could do not to kill the necromancer then and there.
“The best explanation I can give is that they are paralyzed, suspended in time if you will,” Taraq’nok answered. “They are unaware of all around them. They do not age, nor do they need sustenance. They remain here until I awaken them.”
“You will release them,” Cor growled. He was filled with sudden hatred as he imagined the fear these people must have experienced before being frozen in time.
“Soon Dahken Cor. We are not ready.”
“You will release them now!” Cor shouted turning on the Loszian and drawing Soulmourn. The necromancer seemed unsurprised and made no move away as Cor took a fistful of his robes and threw him painfully against a set of bars, Soulmourn’s edge just under his throat.
“Or what Dahken Cor? Will you kill me now? Then how will you free them?” asked Taraq’nok. “I saved these people. The vast majority of them, and all of the children, are from Losz. I discovered them before other lords and nobles, who would have surely killed them as per imperial edict. I also knew I could not teach them how to use the power of their blood, which is why I needed you. Dahken Cor, I have saved your race, not destroyed it. I had no choice but to suspend them; I could not afford to have them running freely around my lands while I waited for a true Dahken to come along. These people should be dead twice over. Kill me, and they will never live again.
“Kill me, and you will never find what you seek either,” the Loszian said, looking at him pointedly. Cor released the necromancer’s robes and sheathed Soulmourn, again knowing that Taraq’nok had thought through everything that would happen between the two of them. He knew everything to say and when to say it, and Cor doubted that he would be able to out subterfuge the Loszian.
“Despite your youth,” Taraq’nok said smoothing the front of his robes, “you are a rational man. You must learn to govern your passions, however, lest they be your undoing. I mean no harm to any of these people. The Dahken are gods in their own right, much like sorcerers and even the priests of Garod, but they need you to unlock their strength.
“Shall we return to the library?”