Chapter 5 Part 2

Tyson finished his meal and signaled the servant to take his tray away. It felt good to be served again. He knew, as long as he kept on Blackheart's good side, he would live in luxury.

He mentally reviewed his situation and goals. He had to accept the possibility that he would be stranded in this world. He intended to be a major power if that happened even if he had to play up to the Blackheart clan to do so.

On the other hand, he intended to do everything possible to ensure that he and as many of his friends as he could manage would get home. That was the most desirable end to this adventure.

It was still a greater possibility that they all could be trapped in this world. That would result in a face-off eventually. He would have to manage to be excluded until he could determine the outcome and then he would back the winning side in the end.

"Troublesome thoughts," Morteous asked as he approached the dining table and signaled the servant to bring a tray of food. "You seem to be thinking long and hard on something," he said as he took a seat across the table.

Tyson smiled and fingered a goblet of wine. He knew Morteous was suspicious. But how much did he suspect? "It is hard to avoid a certain amount of guilt when one betrays one's friends." There, that should cover a great deal of suspicion. Even one as evil as Morteous must accept that he would have some feelings of guilt, Tyson hoped.

"How is Lord Blackheart's druidic training proceeding?" Tyson inquired as he changed the subject.

Morteous appeared unshaken. "He has mastered the minor disciplines in record time, but the major incantations will have to wait until after the bonding is completed next week."

"How will he do that?" Tyson asked.

"With the aid of a rare and powerful illusion designed to alter reality. For a short time he will actually be a druid."

A skeleton appeared with a tray of food and set it before the warlock. The fleshless limbs moved mechanically. Tyson watched the undead creature with detached curiosity. "They are excellent menial laborers," Morteous said as he noticed Tyson's interest.

"Perhaps," Tyson conceded, "but they give me the creeps. I am not used to such an open display of undead. Most of my experiences with them have been quite violent."

"It was just the company you kept," Morteous pointed out. "Here we deal with them on an everyday basis. You will get used to them. You may find some of the more intelligent ones quite stimulating in conversation. One can learn much from a lich."

"Quite so, uncle." Miguel Blackheart smiled as he approached. He was clothed in a rich black satin robe with a white mantle. A red sash held an ornately jeweled dagger to his side. "It is from the lich form of a deceased druid that we took the secret of the druidic bonding ritual."

Tyson bowed and stood. "May this day find you in good health, your grace."

"I am quite well today, thank you Tyson," the young priest replied, "I have spent all morning performing sacrifice to our Lord Set, so I missed the morning meal." He signaled for food. "From what little of your conversation that I heard," the younger Blackheart continued, "I gather that our new comrade is uncomfortable with the house servants."

"Only a little, my lord. I shall persevere," Tyson assured him.

"The best way of that is to increase your exposure with them. Now I know a vampiress who..."

"Miguel," Morteous laughed. "Don't you ever sleep alone?"

"Not if I can help it." Miguel laughed. "Very few women care to be the wife of a Blackheart."

"Seriously," Miguel said as he halted his laughter, "Tyson, you really should attend the war council this evening at sunset in my father's chambers. Your views would be quite valuable."

"Of course," Morteous agreed. "An outsider's views would be very welcome."

"Who are you fighting?" Tyson asked as he lifted his goblet to his lips.

"That is a surprise," Miguel whispered with a smile.

"Perhaps I could learn much if your father agrees to allow me to attend." Tyson drank deeply then rose from his seat. "I must return to my quarters to meditate, my lord. I shall be there should you require my services."

Miguel watched Tyson leave the room. "He is a curious one," he said aloud.

"Do you suspect him of treason?" Morteous toyed with his food as he spoke.

Miguel leaned back in his seat and thought for a moment. "Of treason, no," he said at last. "But Tyson is definitely holding something back." He looked at his uncle. "And, I am going to find out what."

Morteous watched as his nephew finished his meal. Miguel was right. Tyson was holding something back. Morteous was also certain that Tyson was not intending to betray them, but it was distinctly possible that he was not telling them all he knew. His former friends were still at large, but the need for Serpent to make his alliances had a higher priority than chasing down the newcomers.

With any luck at all, they would walk straight into the trap that awaited them in Allentown. Tyson had revealed that destination already. And, if they were not hounded, they may lower their guard enough to be properly ambushed. If not then, they could be dealt with after the pact was signed and the Serpentine Dynasty was raised to full strength. Morteous finished his own meal. Time would tell.