Chapter 7 Part 8

Morteous swept his workbench clear of apparatus in a fury filled fit of anger. The fragile glass shattered against the walls and floor. It was not his secret lab down in the bowels of the citadel, but the lab where he once worked on non personal projects for his brother and now for his nephew.

Tyson was there as well, watching the scene with a mask of reservation. The human mage too was angry for earlier that morning a fire had broken out in the library and the flames had consumed invaluable texts of irreplaceable information. The worst realization came when the fire had been extinguished and no sign of the revered Tome of Creation had been discovered. Morteous had insisted that the book was impervious to fire. That left only one explanation to its absence.

"It was one of them was it not?" Morteous asked. He was leaning against the work bench, his head hung down in thought.

"I wouldn’t put it past them," Tyson replied. "I urged you not to underestimate them." He could not resist adding the last statement. It was an I-told-you-so, and might anger the warlock even further, but Tyson felt that for their own sakes, he had to stress the power of his former comrades.

"You did, and that is not a mistake that will be repeated. Which one was it?"

Tyson thought for a moment. "Both the druid and the boy are gone. They disappeared during the fire, and you stated that you blocked a druidic summoning from the druid. I’d guess that it was Avery. Only he could infiltrate us that efficiently and only he would need the druid's help to escape. Armegon or Ultrecht would probably have been more bold in their attempt, and with all due respect I don't think your blocking spell would’ve been able to stop them had they wanted to escape. I’m certain that they wouldn’t have used a druidic summoning to do so."

"I accept your analysis," Morteous said as he straightened up and absently brushed shards of glass from his robe. "We must assume that they have the Tome." He sighed. "The question now is what will they do with it?"

"If we give them time to study it," Tyson warned seriously, "there’s no limit to what they might do with such a thing."

"You are saying that we should attack immediately?"

"It’s going to have to be done," Tyson answered. "The longer you give them, the more they’re going to be ready when it comes."

"Where are they?"

"We don’t know as yet." Tyson admitted. "Before they were at a small cabin near Tycho. They may’ve returned there or they might’ve relocated. I know that Armegon had a spread of land near Allentown. If I were in their shoes, that’s where I’d operate from. They know by now that we’re aware of the cabin near Tycho."

"They may be near Allentown, but we do not know where," Morteous repeated. "I think we may need assistance from our woodland allies, the Doyr. Their scouts may be able to locate them."

There was a knock at the door. "Come," Morteous answered, and the door opened. A page entered and bowed. "My lord warlock," the boy began, "Lord Blackheart asks that you attend." He nodded to Tyson. "You also, favored servant."

Morteous thanked the boy and ordered him to return to Miguel and announce their arrival. The warlock beckoned Tyson to follow him and left the room as the boy ran on ahead. "Miguel may need a private reminding that I am his elder," Morteous mentioned with a touch of humor. "There is no reason why he could not have come and spoken to us in the lab."

"He may be busy," Tyson suggested.

"More than likely that is the case, the warlock agreed.

They followed the corridor and approached the private audience chamber. Morteous nodded to the sentinel guarding the door and the soldier responded by opening it. They entered the room and discovered Miguel sitting behind the large desk. There was a Doyr, poorly dressed, seated near a corner. He looked very unkept and worn.

"Uncle," the young head of House Blackheart greeted them. "We have news from our allies." Miguel indicated the stranger who stood and bowed.

"Lord Blackheart has bidden me to tell you my story," he began. Returning to his seat, he took a sip from a plain cup and leaned his head back then he licked his lips and through half closed eyes, he began.

"We did our part," he said reluctantly. "We attacked the camp and took the woman and the demon-boy. We delivered them to you in exchange for the seed of House Blackheart. The bargain was fulfilled and yet you asked us to destroy those who came back to the cabin. We sent two score of elite guardsmen to the task. As for our best estimates, not a single one survived."

Morteous took the new with no surprise. He had experienced battle with both Armegon and Ultrecht. Forty men were not nearly enough for the task.

"They defeated our entire task force, and reanimated the bodies. They entered our very temple surrounded by our own dead. No one was the wiser until they entered the forbidden sanctum and faced the our queen. She saw them for what they were, and attacked. The strange one with the white hair..."

"Armegon," Tyson supplied the name.

"That one faced off against my queen and when the ground ceased to shake, only he remained."

"Definitely Armegon," Tyson added.

"It does fit my expectations," Morteous agreed. "That one controls awesome powers."
"Actually Ultrecht is the more powerful," Tyson informed him. "Only his power requires more time and effort to summon."

"We know that after defeating our queen," the Doyr went on, "they took one of our priestesses and disappeared."

"Do you know which way they went?" Morteous asked.

"Our scouts believe that they went east. There is evidence of passage to the west, but we believe that to be the path they used to approach."

"How long ago are we talking about?" Tyson asked.

"Almost a week," the man answered.

"That sounds about right," Tyson offered. "They attacked the Doyr because Avery could determine who’d taken the druid and boy. They apparently convinced a prisoner to enlighten them as to who’d taken over their custody. Then Avery came south. Undoubtedly it was he that rescued them. He probably set fire to the library as a diversion, but that doesn’t explain the disappearance of the Tome. It’s not like him to steal what isn’t his."

"He may not see it as being ours either," Miguel suggested. "All we need do is learn where he went with it."

"We believe that they may have retreated to a small spread of land just north of Allentown," Tyson added for Miguel's benefit. "We know that Armegon settled there after the others left."

"We were about to suggest getting some of the Doyr scouts to go into that area to locate them," Morteous said. "Then we could attack en masse with all the power we can bring to bear. The Tome of Creation must be recovered and secrecy must take a lower priority. We can count on the demons to extract revenge for the loss of one of their own, and the gods will surely rally to defeat Liberator, and finally the Dukes of Hell still stand at our side. We can certainly count on them as they are aligned to House Blackheart by more than treaty now. Miguel's only surviving daughter is the consort of Hell now and that tie is very strong."

"If it’s all the same to you," Tyson interrupted. "I don't think they went back to the druid's place, but I’d like to have it checked out."

Miguel turned back to his Doyr visitor. "Braft here is the chief warrior of the Doyr. He reports directly to the high priestess." The Doyr warrior nodded. "Braft, do you think that you can get some of your people to check it out?"

Braft affirmed. "I will send word immediately. We still have about three hundred warriors. I will also order some scouts here and put them at your disposal. These people must pay for their actions at all costs."

"Rest assured that they will," Morteous answered. "We intend to take care of them with top priority. Our other projects will be placed on hold until they have been located and dealt with.”

"It is so decreed," Miguel announced. "I shall inform my aide immediately that he is to handle all affairs of state personally with the exception of matters on this subject. That will allow me to concentrate fully on this."

"I also suggest, that we call in a High Priest of Ragnera," Morteous added. "You are forbidden to practice the priesthood while you are head of our house, and we need my brother's help."

They later adjourned to the family chapel when the priest of Ragnera arrived. He entered the sanctuary and knelt before the altar and lighted a pair of long red candles. These he set at opposite ends of the shrine and began a prayer of invocation. The prayer was different than that used to offer sacrifices or ask blessings. This prayer mentioned Morteous and Miguel by name. It was quite understandable that the god of war showed favoritism to his own flesh and blood.

A stillness fell upon those gathered. Like a shadow, the spirit of Ragnera fell over the occupants. Within moments, it coalesced and for a moment there stood the form of Serpent Blackheart just as before. The form was that of a man, but the aura about it was anything but mortal. Ragnera's body radiated raw power and an electrifying charge covered the room. There was no doubt that a god stood among them. Ragnera had truly become what he had striven for.

"My own minions have hastened unto me with the news of the Doyr downfall. The demons are angered and their rage may be turned to our cause. Our enemies must die," the god said.

"We had hoped that you would be able to advise us and help us, father," Miguel groveled at the god's feet.

Ragnera drew the young man to his own feet. "Stand and face me," the god said. "You, my son, I grant this right."

Miguel raised his head and faced his father. "I am singularly blessed and honored," he said.

"I can not intervene," the god replied. "A game is in play and even we gods have rules. Your enemies are advised by the god of the prophets, Woeden. His vision gives them a great advantage. I may speak with those who may render aid, and add my voice to you, but my hand must remain clean."

"How was it that the druid and ranger escaped?" Morteous asked. He knelt, but was not prostrate. Ragnera did not consider the position disrespectful. His sibling certainly deserved that much. "Her magic was aptly blocked."

"The god of vision bade creatures of the wild to be at the place and time," Ragnera told them. "Such vision is his to use. He did not directly interfere as I may not. You will soon realize the advantage your enemies hold."

"May I speak?" Tyson asked. He was unsure of his position. He did not want to presume a place that might earn him the god's wrath. Tyson made no fantasies about being able to hold his own against a god.

"Speak," servant," Ragnera bade. "I have come to know the wisdom of your words."

"Great one, is there any way that we may gain insight as to what is to come, a prophesy or sage with true vision perhaps?"

"A well considered question," Ragnera replied. "Even I do not know what is to come, but I do know that the prophesies will hold the key to where your enemies travels are destined."

"What of the Tome of Creation?" Miguel asked.

"The Tome of Creation, like some other artifacts are beyond the vision and control of all gods. I can not advise you except to say that it is better if you are in control of it."

"Would it be better off in the hands of the gods?" Miguel asked.

"It would not. It is the Creator's and resists us violently. We can not even stand in its presence. It undoubtedly has taken a subtle hand in the working of events that have been to our disfavor. In fact I suspect that the Tome of Creation was responsible for the beings selected by the summoning spell we originally cast. Even then it was working against us."

The god's form began to dissipate. "Seek your enemies in the prophesies. Their movements have already been recorded there. I must go I can aid you no more this day." In moments, the candles had burned out and the room was again silent.

"It sounded as if he had a particular prophesy in mind," Tyson noted.

"He did," Miguel answered, "and I think I know which one it is."