“That might be harder to do than you imagine. Lord Lizardthroat has the temple surrounded by two thousand soldiers and his Secret Police. They are prepared for a major battle.”
Myrel and her companions enter the palace and ask to be presented to the king. Lorring has been the Ard Ri for four years, but he is still under the thumb of Lord Lizardthroat. At Melkerei’s recommendation, the king forces Myrel and her companions to wait nearly an hour in his antechamber before they are admitted. Melkerei explains to the king that he must always keep the upper hand.
Myrel begins, “Your Majesty, we bring a message from Duke Amin Giantslayer. He is pleased to inform you Queen Dorla has given birth to a healthy male goblet. Both are doing well. Duke Amin sends his congratulations.”
The king seems pleased by the announcement. “How fairs the duke? Are there new reports of white goblin activity on the Island?” asks the king.
“The subterraneans have remained underground. There are reports they are building a new hive under the ocean between the mainland and the isle,” Myrel answers.
Lord Lizardthroat interrupts, “Why are you in the city? You are safer on the island.”
Myrel has anticipated the question. “The High Priestess and I are concerned for the wellbeing of the temple workers. We are trained healers; we have come to care for the injured.”
Lizardthroat suspects their real purpose is to aid the Thaumaturgist and his cross-breed son. He is certain the two are behind the assault on the temple. “Those who attacked the temple committed a heinous crime against the kingdom. Anyone who aids the attackers will share their quilt. As I recall, it was you who recommended the temple be surrendered to the white goblins without a fight. Why do you support their cause? Are you perhaps in league with the demons that have profaned our holiest site?”
Myrel grows heated in her response. “I recommended surrendering the temple because it is indefensible from an Underworld attack. I hoped to spare lives. I hoped to avoid the sort of butchery your Secret Police perpetrated on the unarmed refugees as they fled the demigod that enslaves them.”
Lord Lizardthroat turns to the king. “Your Majesty, their motive for being in the capital is suspect. I recommend you detain them. They can be held in the palace with Alrik until the temple has been retaken.”
“What?” shouts Meg? “Your Highness, don’t listen to this scheming, would-be usurper. You must free Alrik. He must be your emissary to the goblins holding the temple. Our best hope is to negotiate with the subterraneans. It is only through cooperation with the Queen Mothers that we can hope to defeat Tironock Kan.”
“Ignore her ravings, My King. You can’t make decisions based on ancient mythology. We have to deal with a real invasion and not superstitious thinking,” Melkerei rebuts.
“I will give consideration to using Alrik as my emissary,” replies the king. “You may engage in healing activities, but should you meddle in political events, I will have you banished from the city. Is that understood?”
The High Priestess answers, “It is understood, but I beg you not to ignore the ancient prophecies. The Second Sowing is upon us. The prophecies tell us our hope of survival comes from cooperating with our enemies and not by slaughtering them.”
It is dark when Myrel guides Meg and Baelock to the hidden tunnel on the west side of Holy Mountain. Lord Lizardthroat and a squad of Blue Daggers are waiting for them. They are met by drawn swords.
***
When the white goblins invaded the temple, Alrik and Krage did not flee. They met with the Queen Mothers, who worried Tironock would arrive at any moment and wreck havoc. The demigod’s failure to appear was a relief, but it seemed unlikely it was safe to remain in the temple indefinitely. Krage advised, “Move to a surface homeland at the first opportunity.” The Queens agreed and directed Alrik to pave the way. They sent him to King Lorring to negotiate an exchange of the temple for a place on the surface. They hoped to move to the mountains that form a north-south spine down the center of the kingdom. The mountains were almost uninhabited. Instead of obtaining an agreement, Alrik found himself imprisoned in the palace.
Trak met with his father for the first time in eight years. “Have you heard from Myrel or Meg?” Trak asked Krage.
“No. I thought they would be with you,” Krage answered.
“They were delayed in leaving the isle by the anticipated birthing of Queen Dorla’s child. Myrel is to meet me here in the capital. I have refrained from using my gift to contact her. It might attract Tironock’s attention. It is likely she is in the city and Melkerei is detaining her. How shall we break our standoff with Lord Lizardthroat and get the white goblins out of the temple? It is not safe for them here.”
Krage suggested, “The summer solstice will be here in a few days. As a peace gesture, let’s open the doors to the Great Hall and invite the citizens of Neu Ardonbrae to the religious ceremony.”
“Do you really think anyone besides Lizardthroat’s Blue Daggers will come?” Trak asked.
“I have no idea,” Krage admitted, “but we can’t stay here because Tironock is near, and we can’t leave because Melkerei is blocking our exit. We must do something to break the stalemate. We can build a bridge to span the gap you made when you blew the staircase. Guards can search everyone who crosses the bridge and strip them of weapons. Even if Melkerei sends a thousand soldiers, unarmed they will not represent much of a threat to Ghad’s soldiers who will be armed and ready. I hope to preside over the solstice ceremony. I fear it will be the last the Septantrak will ever see.”
***
The soldiers surrounding the base of Holy Mountain are surprised when the doors to the Great Hall open and several goblins, including the Thaumaturgist, walk out on to what is left of the platform. They are too high above the city to be targets. The captains, and eventually Lord Lizardthroat, himself, arrive to watch white goblins construct a bridge. In three days, the workers complete a narrow bridge that spans the gap. It permits only one person at a time to cross. Lord Lizardthroat looks for an opportunity to attack, but can’t see a way to get his soldiers across the bridge fast enough to overwhelm the guards positioned at its far end. Instead, he fetches Alrik from his prison in the palace and together they ascend the steps carrying a white flag.
When Melkerei enters the temple, Trak notes that the commander is wearing the sword King Giforing presented to him more than eight years before. The popularity of Trak’s Dragon Fire swords has not diminished. Trak and Krage watch from the side while Ghad greets Lizardthroat and escorts the commander and Alrik to the far end of the hall where the Queen Mothers sit upon the platform.
“Welcome, Lord Lizardthroat. Thank you for returning the temple’s High Priest,” says one of the Queens.”
“Queen Mothers, I have come to learn of your intentions.” “Why have you seized the temple?”
“We are fleeing Tironock’s madness,” replies another Queen. “We have no alternative but to seek the only place on the surface that can shelter us. But as Alrik explained, we have no interest in remaining in the temple permanently, but we will not return to the Underworld. If the king will grant us safe passage, we will journey to the mountains and live there.”
“There are many thousands of you,” said Lizardthroat, and yours is but one hive. Will other hives also seek asylum on the surface?”
“Years ago, Tironock forbade contact between hives. We are not certain, but we believe others will want to join us. Only in the mountains is there sufficient space to accommodate all of us,” replies a Queen.
The thought of tens of thousands of goblins inhabiting the mountains is unacceptable to Lizardthroat. He decides to agree to their wishes, knowing that in the open they will be vulnerable. There, he will drive them back into the Underworld. “The king is reluctant, but I will persuade him. Why, may I ask, have you built a bridge over the damaged staircase?”
One Queen Mother explains, “The summer solstice arrives in two days. We wish to open the doors of the Septantrak s
o the faithful might join in the religious celebration.” Another Queen adds, “We hope King Lorring and the city’s nobles will celebrate with us.”
How wonderful, Lizardthroat thinks. He imagines all sorts things that could happen during the ceremony. A crazy wraith might even kill the king. As Melkerei leaves, he notices Trak and Krage watching him. He smiles. I already have two of the Thaumaturgist’s family. With a little luck, I can get rid of the whole lot.
After convincing the king of the need to change tactics, Lord Lizardthroat sends a captain to the temple with word the king will attend the ceremony. “He has invited the citizens of the city to join him. Further, King Lorring grants you safe passage to the mountains south of the Western Pass. He suggests that you make haste, as he is concerned you make arrangements for the coming winter.”
A Queen Mother replies. “We thank His Majesty. We will depart the temple as soon as the temple’s street level exit is reopened. We will be ready in a few days. Please ask the king if we might borrow carts to move our injured.”
Word of the solstice celebration spreads through the city. The faithful and the curious begin arriving a day before the ceremony. As the city’s citizens cross the bridge, the guards manning the front doors cursively search each visitor for weapons. The nobles begin arriving two hours before the ceremony; and the king and Lord Lizardthroat climb the stairs in the company of six royal guards. The white goblins at the door let the king’s bodyguards retain their weapons as they enter the temple. King Lorring is escorted to the royal viewing box. Those brave or foolish enough to enter the temple find themselves surrounded by thousands of scantily glad white goblins. Surface goblins who a few years ago doubted that white goblins still exist now nervously exchange greetings with their subterranean brothers.
As was the custom, the temple is richly decorated for the occasion. Brightly colored banners, a hundred feet in length, hang from the ceiling. Mirrors reflect light coming through windows high in the hall to the floor below. Shards of light continuously shift on the floor and mix with the rich yellow illumination provided by hundreds of torches burning along the walls. Nine brass vats sit near the center of the hall. Each holds fifty barrels of ale for the ceremonial toast.
Chapter 39
Neu Ardonbrae
Myrel, Meg and Baelock are locked in a ship’s hold. Myrel tries in vain to use her gift to call for help. Meg doesn’t even try. She knows the sea will block her power to project her spirit. After being held for two days in the harbor, the ship sets sail. When the vessel clears the protective sea wall enclosing the harbor, the hatch is unlocked.
Myrel climbs the ladder to the deck and recognizes Admiral Ellot Fishbeater, the naval commander who distinguished himself in the Battle for the Isle of Uisgebeatha. “Welcome aboard, Priestess. I wish the circumstances were more favorable.”
“What do you mean to do with us?” Myrel asks.
“Lord Lizardthroat has informed me the king has banished you for aiding the white goblins. He insinuated I was to take you out to sea and dispose of you.”
“You know the king has no part in this!”
“I haven’t forgotten that Lord Lizardthroat is driven by a single passion–to make himself the founder of a new dynasty. I fear the king is also in danger. Now that we are safely at sea, I want to discuss my options with you. I would like to disrupt Lizardthroat’s plans, but I don’t want to make a foolish gesture of defiance and end up a martyr for a lost cause. I was hoping you could suggest an honorable course of action.”
Myrel looks back toward Holy Mountain and thinks of Trak and her father. “What is that?” Myrel points to an orange streak that is flowing out the doors of the temple. “Is that lava? Has the volcano erupted?” Surely its occupants had time to escape.
“I don’t know, My Lady,” says Ellot. “Today is the solstice celebration. Perhaps it has something to do with that.”
“Will you take me back to the capital?”
“That isn’t wise. It will get us both killed. I don’t have the stomach to throw you to the fish, but if I defy Lizardthroat, I can never go back to the capital while he is in control.”
Myrel ponders where she should turn for help. She thinks of Farg. “Admiral, sail for the Isle of Uisgebeatha. Duke Amin owes you a favor or two. He will protect us.”
Three days later, the warship docks at the small harbor on the Isle of Uisgebeatha. The admiral presents himself to Duke Amin and explains the situation.
“You say the volcano has erupted?” The image of lava flowing out of the Septantrak’s doors and into the city seemed unreal. “I thank you for bringing me this startling news. Fortunately, the queen and the king’s heir are safely here in my castle. I will send someone to the mainland to learn more details.
Admiral Ellot and his sailors take quarters in the castle. Myrel, Meg and Baelock chose to stay in the forest until Duke Amin can formulate a plan. When it is dark, Meg comes to Myrel’s hut. “It is time,” she says. The two sit on the dirt floor and let the earth’s power flow into their bodies. They join hands and together send their spirits flying toward the capital. They find the temple deserted. Lava flows across the floor of the Great Hall and through the temple doors. A stream of lava cuts the city in half. Buildings caught in the path of the advancing flow burst into flames and fire spreads to adjacent buildings. No effort is being made to battle the blaze. The spirits of Myrel and Meg enter the royal palace to find Lord Lizardthroat feasting in the king’s banquet hall. He seems unconcerned about the fires consuming in the city. They find no trace of King Lorring or of Trak and Krage. Their spirits return to their bodies, full of questions.
Three days later Duke Amin’s soldiers returned with horrific news. They met refugees on the coastal road who testify that during the solstice celebration, the volcano erupted. The refugees believe that while worshippers fled the advancing lava, the king who was in attendance was murdered by white wraiths. Lord Lizardthroat sealed the temple to trap the wraiths inside. No one has reentered the temple, but it seems everyone inside, including thousands of wraiths, was killed.
***
The solstice ceremony is about to begin. Trak surveys the temple’s security. Five hundred of Ghad’s soldiers stand in the crowd wearing their iron swords, more than enough to handle any Blue Daggers who would disrupt the ceremony. Trak worries, where is Myrel? She must have arrived in the capital by now. Word of the royal heir’s birth has already spread through the city. Tonight after the ceremony I will search for her.
Trak has never witnessed a solstice celebration, but he sees the faithful have come prepared to play their part. When the hall has filled, a gong sounds and priests began a soft chant. The crowd takes up the chant and begins swaying in unison. The Queen Mothers speak above the chanting. They evoke the Earth Spirit. They ask that the gift of prophecy might fall upon all those gathered. From the side passages, the haunting sounds of a dozen trinagi, the goblins’ ancient battle horns, reverberate through the hall. The horns emit low harmonic tones that resonate off the chamber’s immense interior. The sound pierces the souls of the assembled worshippers. The chanting complements the harmonics produced by the horns. The volume of the sound slowly rises until it is palpable in the very rock.
The doors to the Great Hall stand open so that light from the setting sun radiates to the far end of the long hall like a beacon illuminating the clerics and Queen Mothers, who stand on a platform leading the chant. By the time the Thaumaturgist enters the hall, many of the faithful are in a deep trance. Krage climbs the high platform and speaks through a horn, amplifying his voice. He has prepared his remarks carefully, but the voice that emanates from his mouth is not his own, and the words are not the ones he has written. Trak recognizes the voice as the one that spoke through him on the day Queen Meriem returned to King Red.
“For three millennia we have waited for this day. The Second Sowing is now.” The voice speaks quietly, but it penetrates deep into everyone’s consciousness. “Today the Underworld opens
and pours forth its tortured souls. They seek to escape the evil that enslaves them. Do not fear your brothers. Fear the evil that stalks them.” At that moment a mild tremor ripples through the mountain. It rattles the walls of the temple. Some scream. Worshippers in the rear of the hall flee through the Great Doors.
The voice continues, “Even now, the earth’s magma rises in the caverns beneath your feet. It carries the power of the Earth. The power nourishes the evil one and gives him strength to walk the surface. Do not waste your strength fighting amongst yourselves. To survive, unite to defeat Tironock.”
A second tremor hits the temple, stronger than the first. The ceiling mirrors shatter and shower the hall with glass shards. Most receive only minor cuts, but a few large fragments slice deeply into white goblins and surface dwellers alike. Blood splatters across the floor. The crowd panics and bolts for the doors. The narrow bridge spanning the gap to the staircase proves a bottleneck. Hundreds push through the doors forcing those on the narrow ledge to fall to their deaths.
Lord Lizardthroat doesn’t join the panic. He sees his opportunity. He signals his Blue Daggers to strike. Ten of his men positioned close to King Lorring draw their hidden knives and rush the king’s viewing box. It takes only seconds for the assassins to climb into the gallery and close upon the Ard Ri. The royal guard stands in a protective circle around King Lorring. Two attackers and two of the royal guard fall in the first moments of the attack. The four remaining guards now face eight attackers. Trak sees what is happening and begins shoving his way through the crowd to aid the king.
An assassin standing below the king’s box produces a bow. His first arrow drops one of the remaining guards. The bowman is notching an arrow for a second shot. The guards understand if they go after the bolter who stands thirty strides away, the king will be left unprotected. Yet they know if they hold their ground, the bowman can pick them off one by one. As the archer shoots, one of the royal guards moves in front of the king and takes the arrow in his shoulder. There are only two guards left and eight attackers.