* * *
Christill dropped his pack and took only his bow and quiver. Dievu had already begun the climb up the mountain to the crest from which they could see the Dargonian camp. He lay on his stomach peering over the rocky cliff, staying as silent as he could.
Christill crept up next to him and peered over the edge. About fifty feet down the mountain was the camp. He counted around twenty of the Primals left and Christill spotted the robed disciple who had attacked him and captured the Queen, sitting by himself next to a small fire. The camp was set out in a circle with three fires burning to keep the assassins warm in the high altitude.
Dievu shuffled around the crest to get a better look of the camp and saw Queen Triel sitting on the floor with her hands bound behind her and cuts and bruises covering her body. He cringed when he saw the state of her clothes, all tattered and filthy, and felt furious when he thought on the things the assassins would have done to her. Spotting the red robed disciple, he punched his fist into the hard rock to vent his anger and then returned to Christill.
He motioned for Christill to follow him down the mountain and they both crept back to their packs, trying desperately to remain discreet.
"There are too many of them," breathed Dievu.
"But we must try," urged Christill.
"No," replied Dievu, regretfully. Christill could sense Dievu was leaving something unsaid. "Duty is one thing, but throwing your life away needlessly is another. There is no hope in us trying to rescue the Queen with these odds."
Christill was infuriated. "What do you mean? We cannot just let her be taken into Dargon. They will kill her, or worse."
"Quiet!" demanded Dievu. "We will not abandon the Queen. We will help her in other ways. Now that we know the route they are taking I can estimate that it will take them at least another fortnight to escape the Beon Ranges. If I send word to the Council of Elders, they will be able to contact Precedin. Riders could be sent out by tomorrow. From Precedin there are quicker routes through the Ranges into Dargon. With luck they may reach the Queen before the assassins manage to take her too far into their homeland."
"And what will we do?" asked Christill.
"We will return to Feldom and then to Duathnin."
Christill stared at Dievu with disbelief. "After all this you would return to Karmena and simply get on with your life? How could you come all this way and then turn around?"
Dievu answered, "Think rationally, Christill. There is nothing that we can do for Triel anymore. We have helped her enough by following her this far. We now know that they want her alive and we also know where they will enter Dargon which will give the Feldonians a chance of rescuing her. This is now beyond you and me."
"I cannot believe this," Christill replied.
"You will do as I tell you," snapped Dievu. "I will contact the Elders, and tell them to send word to their people in Precedin. Wait here for my return."
Christill acknowledged Dievu's order regretfully and sat down as his master walked off up the mountain. As he waited he found conflicting emotions building up inside of him. He was angry that they were going to abandon the Queen, and a part of him wanted to jump down the mountain and attack the assassins, regardless of the odds. However, he knew that there would be no chance of rescuing the Queen by himself and lowered his head.
Suddenly he felt a sharp pain around his neck and was pulled backwards. He attempted to scream but the pressure around his throat was too great. Christill looked up and saw a Primal standing above him, choking him with a length of clear wire. The assassin dragged Christill backwards down the mountain, cutting into his skin as he violently strangled him. His already inflamed lungs burned from the lack of oxygen.
Christill fought as best he could, but it was useless. The soldier was skilled in the art of killing and there were few in the world who could prevent a Primal from completing their work. Then just as he felt his consciousness slipping away, the assassin removed the wire from his neck and let him fall to the ground. Christill's hands covered his throat as he coughed painfully and his enemy drew a long dagger and placed it at his throat.
"Don't make a sound or you and your precious Queen will die a horrible death. Do you understand?" he asked menacingly.
Christill nodded and the assassin backed off. He turned and moved back to the mountain trail that led down to the Dargonian camp. From the trail came another figure, one that Christill remembered.
The red robed disciple walked calmly up to Christill and laughed. "Well look at this," he said. "It seems like someone has brought you back from the dead."
Christill studied the man's face and remembered the gaunt, heartless features. His eyes were an unnatural dark blue that unsettled him. Are all men in Dargon such cold blooded animals, he wondered.
"Tell me, was it that Karmanian that fought so valiantly? Or should I say foolishly...Or do you posses some magical powers of your own?"
Christill spat at him.
"Feisty, I like that," said the Disciple, playfully. A fiendish smile graced his face. "I think introductions are in order. I am Novokai. Who might you be?"
Christill stared defiantly into Novokai's eyes. He would not give this man anything he wanted. Christill had born enough torture in his life. "You will get no answer from me you foul wretch of a man," he yelled.
The Primal stepped back up with his dagger held ready, but was held back by Novokai. "No Rhucia, don't worry. Whatever allies he might have waiting in the hills will be no match for me."
Christill stood up. He was close to six feet away from Novokai and Rhucia, but knew that any attempt to flee would be useless.
"As you have most likely realized, there is no hope of escape. Not even Dievu can help you this time," said Novokai.
Christill's face reflected the surprise at hearing Dievu's name and Novokai smiled. "Oh, what's wrong? Didn't you realize that I was well aware that you had been following us from the very day that poor excuse for a disciple brought you back to this plane." Novokai shook his head. "You are truly naive. But I will say that I respect your loyalty to your Queen. She is indeed worth fighting for."
Christill's eyes flared with anger. "I swear if you have harmed her in any way, I will-"
"What?" interrupted Novokai. "What exactly will you do to me? Do you alone have the power to stop me?"
Christill stared him down, but his resolve was faltering.
"I didn't think so. Now tell me who you are, and why the Queen is so important to you that you would throw away your life to save her."
"I will not answer anything," replied Christill.
"Very well," sighed Novokai. "I'll just have to find out for myself then." He raised his hand and summoned forth a stream of magic. Christill watched in horror as Novokai's eyes burned red and the magic drew closer to him. It enveloped Christill's body and began to swirl rapidly around his head.
"Now for a little insight," called Novokai. He then moved his wrist, commanding the magic to enter Christill's ears and as it did Christill fell to the floor in tremendous pain. His hands reached for his head and he began to claw at his face, trying to get the magic out.
A loud voice shouted, "Stop this at once, Novokai!"
The pain disappeared and Christill looked up to see Novokai staring, with one raised eyebrow, up the mountain. He turned and saw Dievu standing upon the crest, pure rage burning in his features.
"So nice of you to finally make an appearance, Dievu. What has it been...twenty years, since the battle of Hiethris? My how you've changed."
"Do not talk to me of Hiethris. There was no battle there, only a massacre," Dievu shot back.
"Poor, poor Dievu. Still caught up in the events of the past. Can't we forgive and forget?" said Novokai in a teasing tone. "And in any case, just before I killed your precious wife I probed her mind and trust me, she wasn't the most loyal of women in Karmena."
Dievu clenched his fists tightly, biting his lip to hold back his anger. "One day you will pay greatly for th
e woman and children that your students killed in Hiethris."
"We shall see," replied Novokai calmly.
Rhucia sprang to action as soon as Novokai had finished and unleashed a handful of needles at Dievu. Waving his hand across his chest, Dievu formed a barrier that stopped the deadly missiles.
"You will have to try better than that you fool," shouted Dievu.
"I tire of this game. Rhucia, take the boy," ordered Novokai. "I will finish what I should have a long time ago."
Rhucia moved with incredible speed at Christill. Dievu raised both hands and unleashed a ball of Nyrune's magic that headed for the assassin, but he wasn't quick enough. Rhucia tackled Christill, grabbing him around the stomach and dragged him down the trail. Dievu's ball struck the ground where Christill had been standing and exploded into a pile of green sludge that, had it hit, would have held Rhucia to the ground for hours.
Christill struggled to free himself from Rhucia's grip but he knew it was hopeless. The last thing he noticed before lapsing into unconsciousness was Rhucia's fingers pressing hard into his neck.
"It ends now, Dievu," yelled Novokai as Gushkall's magic flowed through him, causing his entire body to glow red. The ground beneath them trembled from the power coming from his body.
Dievu summoned his own magic which sizzled in the air around him. He knew that he could not win this fight. Novokai was a much stronger disciple than he, and the restrictions of Nyrune's magic would not allow him to directly kill another man with her powers. He knew that there was no hope of saving the Queen and Christill by himself and decided his best option was to try and reach help. Quickly glancing around for a way to escape, he saw a small ridge that led down to the trail behind them. He closed his eyes and allowed Nyrune's magic to enter his muscles. Amplified by the energy in his legs, he sped off towards the ridge.
To the normal eye Dievu would have simply been a lightning fast blur. But Novokai, whose own powers allowed him to see the world differently, saw each step that Dievu made. He raised his palm and unleashed a bolt of magic that struck Dievu in the arm.
Before Dievu had even hit the ground from the impact, another second bolt had struck him. The onslaught continued and Novokai unleashed strike after strike of burning hot magic at him.
Only Dievu's own magical barrier prevented him from being melted into a heap, but the barrier was not enough to stop the powerful impact of the blows and soon Dievu was on his back, crying in pain.
He knew that he only had one last chance to escape so he raised his palm and unleashed a ball of mist into the air that exploded in a blinding flash of white light. Novokai closed his eyes, but was a fraction to late. The light burned into his pupils, blinding him.
Dievu summoned up all of his remaining magic. It was risky, but he was left with no other choice. He willed his power to teleport himself to safety. Novokai unleashed bolts of magic in all directions that charred, sizzled and tore up the mountain side. Luckily none of them found Dievu as Nyrune's magic consumed his body and brought it to another place.
When the blindness had finally passed Novokai looked up and realized that Dievu had escaped. "Very well, Dievu," he cried out. "You may run today, but we will meet again."
Dievu opened his eyes and screamed. He saw the last thing that he had been thinking of when he had willed the magic to teleport him. Vithanu, still tied to the tree, trotted over to Dievu and affectionately prodded him with his nose. Dievu tried to sit up, but could not move. His head spun violently. He coughed deeply for several moments and could taste the foul tang of his own blood in his mouth. The strain of the teleportation had damaged his body severely. Had he tried to travel any further than the base of the Ranges, he would have likely arrived at his destination as a corpse.
He could not recall how long he lay there, but finally Dievu managed to gather up enough strength to stand. He untied Vithanu and then walked over to Polthus who was drinking from the shallow stream that flowed down from the mountain. He stroked the horse's neck and thought of Christill. "I will not fail you. Help will come," he said aloud. He then forced himself up onto the saddle, and with Polthus at his side began the journey to the City of Skiye.