Monday, May 11, 2009

Chapter 3 Part 2

Tyson's heart was pounding. Avery alive! And what was worse was that he still carried that sword that Serpent was so worried about. He had no choice. If Avery had the ability to tell fact from fiction, then the ranger could also reveal his deceptions as well. He was totally aligned with the Blackheart clan and the ranger would expose him and he would not be able to lie his way out. Armegon and Ultrecht both would take Avery's word over his.

Tyson did not even wait until he returned to where Avery had ambushed him. He immediately prepared to teleport. He knew his chambers in the royal citadel in Aspberg well enough to teleport there with no error. He had gathered as much intelligence from Ultrecht and Armegon as he possibly could. He had to get away immediately. He activated the spell.

There was the usual moment of disorientation as the landscape dissolved around him. The transition seemed to take long moments, though he knew in fact that it was less than a second. Slowly his quarters came into focus as he materialized in the keep of House Blackheart.

He quickly changed into a fresh set of clothes. He noted with some satisfaction that his room had been cleaned, but his belongings appeared to not have been disturbed. When dressed in a house tunic, he left the room.

Tyson turned down a hallway in the general direction of where Serpent's chambers were. He passed through an archway and was almost run over by Miguel.

"Ahhh, Tyson," Miguel greeted him. "It is good to have you back. I hope you will serve me as well as you did my father."

"Did?"

"It is true," Miguel responded. "While you were away, the Ascension took place. My father is now the god of war."


Tyson bowed. "Then I swear my loyalty to you, and perhaps my news is not as important as I had feared."


Miguel frowned. "News?"


"While in Allentown," Tyson explained, "I discovered that some of those who I was summoned here with did not return after all."


Miguel considered this news. "I think it may be wise if this news is indeed shared with my father and my uncle. How much did you learn?"


"There are three who remained behind for some reason or another, and the offspring of a fourth," Tyson informed him. "Armegon, and Ultrecht have been roaming about keeping a low profile for over a year. They don't seem to have any interest in opposing our plans. They just want to be left alone for now, but I give you fair warning. There will come a time when this world will not be big enough for them and us. That is just how they are."

"Well if nothing else we have time to deal with them later. Did you say there were three?"

"Yes," Tyson confirmed. "The third is Avery. We had thought him dead, and that sword that had you so worried lost, but he still lives and he has the sword still."


"Damn!" Miguel cursed. "Okay, let's go to the family chapel and speak with my father." He turned and led the way up the hall.


When he ducked through a doorway, Tyson entered a lavishly furnished chapel. "Wasn't this the family chapel of Set?" he asked.


"It was. But Set gave me to Serpent as a gift. I’m now the High Priest of Blackheart, the god of war. Serpent gained his first priest and Set made a stronger ally than before, besides I don't think Set would have trusted me as much any more if my father was a god as well. Conflict of interest, you know."


"Of course," Tyson agreed. "That only makes sense."


Miguel approached the altar and knelt before it. Above the altar was an engraved likeness of Serpent's face. The walls were decorated in rich tapestries and gold torch mounts. Miguel finished whatever ritual he was performing. In a series of complex and awkwardly timed gestures, he reached out and touched the altar in several locations. A panel slid aside revealing a hidden compartment. From Tyson's vantage point, he could not see what was inside.


Miguel reached in and retrieved a large white candle and a solid gold oil lamp. He sat them atop the altar and lit them both. After a moment, the lamp was pouring forth a blue hued smoke. Miguel lifted the candle until the small flame was in the midst of the smoke. "Blackheart, god of war and patron of this house I, thy servant beg an audience."


Tyson watched as the smoke shifted and swirled. Gradually the smoke took on a likeness of Serpent's face. "I have come my son," Serpent's voice reverberated throughout the room.


"My lord, our servant Tyson has returned to the fold and brings grave tidings." Morteous bowed low before the altar.


The image of Serpent's face turned and Tyson felt an unnatural gaze fall upon him. To his surprise he found that he too was kneeling. He rose to his feet and bowed as well.

"Speak, Tyson. Did your research go well?" Serpent's voice sounded hollow; almost like an echo.

"It did, my lord. I learned what I was after, and much more than we had dreamed." Tyson stepped forward. The die had been cast. He was before a god, no matter how inexperienced. Until he knew Serpent's limits, he could not risk his wrath.
Tyson told his story. He told of his meeting with Ultrecht and his discovery of Ultrecht's and Armegon's method for disguising their magic.

"I fancy Uncle Morteous will be pleased to hear that," Miguel commented. "He has been wanting a rematch with Ultrecht."


"I myself may take the time to visit Armegon," Serpent's voice sounded amused. "His insult still is a thorn in my side."


Tyson went on to tell about Sam, and Avery. The spectral face showed no reaction at all throughout the whole audience until the mention of Avery and the sword. "So Liberator still has an interest in the current of events."


"It would appear so, father." Miguel said. "Do you have any direction?"


The cloud coalesced into a pillar of dark flame. "Let us wait a bit. Let us see what they are involved with and what they intend to do before we resume our campaign against them. But rest assured we will not ignore them as they had hoped."


"Shall I send for Uncle Morteous?" Miguel asked.


"Nay," Serpent replied. "He is away on a mission for me. I will inform him personally."

Miguel accepted this news. "Might I suggest we plan some form of subterfuge in the interim. That way we can implement our plans with minimum delay."

"A wise suggestion," the god commended. "Tyson," the voice whispered like dry sand in the wind, "in your opinion what is their weakest and most exploitable factor?"


Tyson thought momentarily. "That would be the boy, Sam. He is very inexperienced and he trusts me more than the others." Then as an afterthought, he added: "There is also a girl. A native of this world, who loves her old father, a simple tailor, dearly. She could be controlled by threats against him."


"Would your former associates rally to her defense?" Miguel asked.


"As things are right now and if it were too inconvenient, I would say no. If Sam asked or possibly begged they might." Tyson considered what he had just said for a moment. "I think, however, that if you give them more time to get to know her, then you can count on it. Also, Avery would be the first to rally to the defense of a helpless young maiden. Ultrecht would be fairly indifferent, and at the present, Armegon might view it as a chance to get Sam out of an unwanted commitment."


"So right now you think they would not defend this female," Miguel repeated.


"Correct," Tyson confirmed. "But if you wait a week or so, Armegon and Ultrecht will grow fond of her. Then you can bet on their interference on her behalf."


"What course of action do you suggest?" The cloud of darkness rumbled slightly and shadows from the candle danced wildly.


Tyson glanced at the god's appearance. There was practically nothing of the old Serpent Blackheart that remained unchanged. "My lord," he said, "after my recent departure and the fact that my guilt in their betrayal was only marginally questionable before, I am certain that they now consider me a prime enemy. They will be on their guard immediately and will be difficult to attack at best. If we give them a few days to cool off then I might be able to confront the boy in isolation. I may be able to lure him into an ambush. Then I could kill him."


"That would not give us the control on them that we seek," Miguel pointed out. "If we kill him we only enrage them and encourage their interference. I suggest that we imprison him somehow."


"An excellent idea," the god agreed. "I will leave this up to the two of you. I urge you to consult your uncle when he returns." The image slowly began to fade. "I have come to know many secrets since coming into my divinity. I am now privy to things that no mortal should know and now they require my attentions." The image disappeared, but the echoes of the voice could still be heard as they trailed off into the silence. "Be well my son. Serve me well my servant."


Miguel made a few gestures in accordance with his profession then put the paraphernalia away. Tyson watched for a moment before he spoke. "What kind of imprisonment do you have in mind?"


"Nothing physical," Miguel assured him. "That would instigate a rescue attempt. No, I had something more like a hex in mind. If we could trap the boy's soul, or mind, we could gain great influence over your former comrades."


"I like your style," Tyson grinned.

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