Ascendants Of Ancients Sovereign Part 36

"Sorry!" The jaguar's eyes flashed. "I think what Amar is trying to say is that you'll need protection while in Gessler since the crowd isn't pleasant. I have an idea. Instead of meeting at the Blood Sea platform, I'll make my way to Gessler, but it will take 23 Peaks to get there. I want you to arrive the next Peak. My brothers and I will be hiding in the shadows in case you need us. Get off the hippogriff and make your way to an inn called The b.l.o.o.d.y Trough. You won't see us unless you're attacked."

George responded, "Kepler, it scares the c.r.a.p ... wait ... it scares the garesh out of me that you can hide like that. I can't tell you how happy I am that you're on my side." He reached down, picked Maldwin up and scratched the back of the rat's head as he continued. "Your plan is a good one. We should do it. Will you ask Maldwin if he can project his visions to a group of people?"

Unsure where George was going with his question, the demon spoke with the rat. Once finished, the demon relayed Maldwin's answer to George. "He said yes, but if it's a big group, they'll all see the same vision."

"Exactly how big is too big of a group before they start seeing the same thing? How many people can he project his visions to before he has to stop?"

Again, Kepler asked and responded, "He said more than three and they'll need to see the same image. He has projected visions to his entire family before and they total more than 200."

The manipulator smiled. "Holy gares.h.!.+ I bet he has no clue if he can do more than that. So ... less than three, he can project separate visions and more than three, they'll all see the same thing. Is that what he's saying?"

Again, the undead cat asked the rat to confirm. "He said you're right, and he imagines he can project his visions to many more."

George put Maldwin on the ground and then put his hands behind the back of his head as he started to ramble off another plan. "Let's figure out what the three of us will do until Kepler gets to Gessler. I think we should go back to Lethwitch. We can spend some quality moments with our loved ones and work on the problem regarding rival kingdoms..."

George continued to ramble as he outlined a complete plan.

Three Nights Later Fellow soul ... before we go on to the next part of the story, allow me to interject another small history lesson. This particular lesson is about The b.l.o.o.d.y Trough Inn located in Gessler Village.

The inn acquired its name before it was built. When the people first began to travel to Gessler, the center of the village was used for watering the area's horses. The people built a three-pace-high, twelve-pace-long, sloping, rock wall on the spot where the inn would later be built. Twelve troughs, six on either side, each formed out of rock, had been laid into the base of the wall.

A natural spring bubbled to the surface not far away and provided water for the area. Through a series of pipes, the people of the village used gravity to direct the flow to the top of the wall where the water funneled into each of the troughs.

One night, while the village slept, a double murder was committed. The bodies of the beheaded men were thrown across the top of the wall. The corpses plugged the flow of water, and when morning rolled around, their blood had stained the walls of one of the troughs and turned the water inside it red.

Though the blood faded over the seasons, this one trough had been labeled, and the family who built the inn decided to use this label as their inspiration. The inn was named The b.l.o.o.d.y Trough. To this Peak, a man can take his horse into the tunnel below the inn and leave it to drink.

The a.s.sa.s.sin, Double D, had made his way through the first part of Skeleton Pa.s.s, and he was sitting on a stool inside The b.l.o.o.d.y Trough. He was drinking ale and had been contemplating his trip through the second part of the pa.s.s when an unexpected event occurred.

The a.s.sa.s.sin had been paid over a season ago by one of the n.o.bles of Bloodvain who lived in the Barbarian Kingdom to kill an arrogant sergeant for sleeping with his wife. The job was not one Double D would have normally accepted, but the pay had been up-front and substantial.

However, when Double D acquired the contract, someone talked. When his future victim heard that he had been solicited to kill him, the spineless piece of garesh fled before the a.s.sa.s.sin could establish a plan.

As always in life, things had a way of coming full circle. This particular barbarian, dressed in furs and heavy, leather pants, happened to walk into the same bar where Double D was sitting.

As Double D studied his future victim, the a.s.sa.s.sin knew the man did not know who he was. He could toy with the barbarian and slay him later.

"How's it going, friend? Is it still raining out? Slight chill out there, eh?"

"Hmpf!" the man grunted.

The a.s.sa.s.sin smiled at the shortness of the exchange and asked another question. "Where you from, friend?"

The man did not respond and kept drinking.

Double D tried again. "Say, friend, where you from?"

The barbarian slammed his mug against the bar. "I have no desire to speak with a sad excuse of a man from Brandor. You're pathetic. You're garesh. You're less than garesh. I'd rather spit on you." He pushed the mug off the bar and demanded a refill.

The barbarian was large, more than a pace taller than Double D, and like most men from the north, he was strong. His long, dark hair hung to the right side of his rock jaw. The coldness of his eyes would have scared most men, but Double D was not most men.

The killer excused himself and walked to the far side of the bar to take a seat. He would wait for the big man to go out to the waste shed to relieve himself. Watching him pound one drink after another, the a.s.sa.s.sin knew it would not take long before the need would arise.

When the barbarian did stumble out and into the night, Double D followed. The a.s.sa.s.sin watched from the shadows as the barbarian opened the door to the waste shed and disappeared inside. He gave his unsuspecting victim a few moments, and then he pulled a mask out of his pack.

The mask resembled the face of a skull. It had been intricately painted and possessed a deviant appearance. The value of the mask was worth nearly 10 Yaloom. It was inlaid with gold and onyx to accent its features, but it was the magic that filled the mask that made it priceless.

As he placed the mask over his face, Double D vanished beneath a veil of invisibility. Without a sound, he walked toward the shed, opened the door and then stepped inside before he let the door close behind him with a thud.

The barbarian looked in his direction.

Double D smirked as the barbarian grumbled and turned back around to continue to pee into the large hole that was provided for the b.l.o.o.d.y Trough's patrons.

Double D shook his head from under his invisible veil. Many of the men from the north were crude. When drinking, the less educated liked to drop their pants around their ankles to show off their manhood. They did not care for privacy or modesty. This animalistic display did not bother the a.s.sa.s.sin, in fact, the barbarian's mannerisms made his job easier.

Double D moved toward his prey. With the big barbarian's back to him, he slid the mask to the top of his head and re-materialized. With a big smile crossing his face, he looked down at the leather pants that were bunched around the barbarian's legs. A large knife rested in a sheath on the big man's belt. It was army issue-the pride of the barbarian kingdom carved into its handle. The a.s.sa.s.sin moved closer and crouched into a position where he could retrieve the blade.

The man was so drunk, his stream of urine was moving all about as he swayed back and forth. At one point, the stream caught the edge of the barbarian's pants. The splash from the spray landed on Double D's hand.

Disgusted, the a.s.sa.s.sin pulled his victim's blade free of its sheath. He lifted the tip of the weapon within a width of a fist of the barbarian's b.u.t.tocks.

The blade-three hands long, half a hand high and half a finger thick at its widest point-had hooks that ran along the top of the blade and rolled back toward the a.s.sa.s.sin's hand. The barbarians took pride in their craftsmans.h.i.+p. They claimed that a sharper blade could not be found in all of Southern Grayham.

Savoring the moment, the a.s.sa.s.sin shoved the blade into the barbarian's r.e.c.t.u.m. A twinkle of satisfaction filled Double D's eyes as he lifted upward in the direction of the hooks and then ripped the knife out.

Chunks of the barbarian's flesh fell to the floor of the shed as Double D ducked to avoid the barbarian's elbow as the man from the north spun around.

Blood flowed freely in all directions as the barbarian's drunkenness caused him to lose control of his spin. His leather pants tightened around his feet and caused him to fall face first into the hole.

The a.s.sa.s.sin made sure he gave his victim the necessary moments to roll over so that he could see his face. Satisfied that the barbarian knew his imminent death had been dealt by the hand of a man he had earlier degraded, Double D nodded. He pulled the mask back over his face and darted out of the shed, leaving the barbarian bleeding profusely and lying in a pile of p.i.s.s and garesh.

The screams the big man released were horrific, but his cries would go unanswered. The barbarian's tormented sounds would leave an everlasting impression in Double D's ruthless mind. He would relish his enjoyment of the moment as he made his way to the other side of the village to enter the second leg of Skeleton Pa.s.s.

The people of Gessler would find the barbarian the next morning. He was covered by maggots and flies, and small, flesh eating bugs called sysers. The barbarian was unrecognizable-his face eaten to the bone, and there was no telling how many drunken beings p.i.s.sed on him during the night and had not realized it.

CHAPTER 26.

Sick of this Royal c.r.a.p SAM, SHALEE, BJ, AND Helga arrived in the town of Empire five nights prior to Double D slaying the barbarian in Gessler. Empire was a small town with little military presence, despite being a part of Brandor's kingdom.

Sam won his first fight in front of this populace who wors.h.i.+ped the G.o.ddess of Fire. His fight was to the death, and his ribs took an awful beating. They were bruised, and the skin above them was lacerated, and Sam did not have the necessary Peaks to heal before his next fight.

Meanwhile, Shalee worked with Helga to increase her power. She continued to astonish the older woman with her successes. Shalee had still suffered just the one failure since her first day of training in Angels Village. For privacy, the girls practiced outside of Empire in a heavily wooded area. Not one soul bothered them, and this spot proved to be the perfect place to go back to each night.

Helga's staff was planted in the ground, and the orb at its top was providing light. The older woman took a step back and watched as Shalee commanded Precious to rip a ma.s.sive tree from the ground and send it high into the air. Foreseeing a bad outcome, Helga grabbed her staff, pulled it out of the ground and then put up a protective barrier.

The trunk, almost three paces in diameter, smashed into the ground. The area around them shook. The noise was deafening, and the tree limbs splintered in all directions. Wooden missiles thumped against Helga's magic and fell to the ground as harmless pieces of kindling.

The ladies rolled with laughter. After a few exchanged glances of amazement, the foolhardy women wondered if the people in town had heard the collision. They decided it was best to stop training for the night and started a fire after collecting the kindling. They would sit for a bit and talk.

"Oh, my Lord, that was loud," Shalee giggled as she held her stomach.

"I know, Child. I hope no one comes out here to yell at us. I had no idea you were going to send it that high. I bounced when it hit."

"You should've seen your face. Your eyeb.a.l.l.s were popping while it was coming down. I'm glad you put up a wall. We could've been punctured." Shalee pointed in the direction of the town. "I'd bet those fire wors.h.i.+ppers would love us for making all this kindling."

Helga knew the younger sorceress was commanding power most students would never command in their entire lives. How was such a thing possible? Sure, Ba.s.sorine had said Shalee could handle an exponential growth, but to develop this fast did not make sense. Shalee had long since pa.s.sed Helga's abilities, and there was no real reason the student needed her around. She felt so close to the young woman, and this was the main reason why she stayed.

Helga thought back to what Shalee had said in West Utopia. She knew Shalee viewed her as a mother, but was this bond strong enough to survive the news? The moment had come to let her student know that she had surpa.s.sed her abilities.

"Shalee, I have something to say. I must admit, I'm nervous about telling you this."

Shalee could see the worry in the eyes of her friend. "What is it? Why the long face?"

"Child, I've been trying to figure out how to tell you that I cannot teach you any longer."

"Why? Do you have someplace to go? Did I mess up? I can fix it if you're upset. I don't have so much pride that I can't apologize."

"No, no, no, Child. It's not like that. I'm not mad, nor do I want to stop being around you." Helga took a deep breath. "Your power has grown beyond mine. I cannot teach you because you're stronger than I am."

Helga scooted next to Shalee, pulled her close and then hugged her. "I'm sad to say this, but I fear I'm not much use to you any longer."

Shalee returned the embrace. After a moment, she pulled away with tears in her eyes. "I already knew my abilities were beyond yours. Remember, you bonked your b.u.t.t. I just didn't want to say anything." She smiled and wiped her eyes. "Just because you can't teach me magic any longer doesn't mean I can't learn from you. You, BJ, and Sam are all I've got. I need you now more than ever. Who else would I shop with when Sam needs to buy me stuff?"

"Then, you want me to stay, Child?"

" Lordy, Helga, aren't you listening? Of course I want you to stay. I need you."

An enormous sigh escaped Helga's lips. "Then it's settled. You're stuck with me for good." They embraced again.

A long series of moments went by before Shalee questioned, "If you're not able to train me, then who is ... and where do we find this person?"

After a moment of thoughtful consideration, Helga answered. "We've already been to a town where there's such a person. His name is Amar, and he lives in Lethwitch. He's much stronger than me, and he could continue your training. He is the only man on Southern Grayham who has traveled to Luvelles to study the arts. If you'd like, we can seek him out."

Shalee shook her head. "I don't want to leave Sam until after he has met with the King of Brandor." She groaned. "All this fighting Sam has to do makes me sick. I hate that he won't let me use my magic on him. I can't stand watching him get more st.i.tches. His ribs look terrible."

The younger sorceress grimaced and changed the subject. "Let's pa.s.s on finding Amar for now. I'm sure I can think of something to challenge myself until the moment is right. All we have to do is think of something absurd and then try it." She slapped her hands together. "Bam, we have another lesson."

"I suppose your logic makes sense, Child. Perhaps you can try raining down fire or manipulating some other outlandish control over the elements. Who knows what you're capable of?"

Shalee agreed. "I might need to do something like that to get the king to listen to Sam. Maybe you and I can figure out something clever to speed things up." Shalee smiled, "Give up a high-five."

Unbeknownst to the women, they were being watched from the shadows. The stare of the being within his hiding spot was filled with disturbed thoughts.

The sorceresses stayed by the fireside through the night talking about girl stuff. When morning arrived, the moment had come to go back into town and eat breakfast with the boys. The swine meat, greggled hash and eggs were delicious, and the conversation was pleasant. Afterward, everyone prepared to go to the arena for Sam's final fight.

Now, fellow soul ... I need to tell you something about Empire. This town was considered to be the jailhouse for the whole of Southern Grayham. The headmaster of this arena lived in forced service to the King of Brandor, and acted as a sheriff of sorts.

The headmaster was not human, and he lived in humiliation. Farogwain was a serpent n.o.ble, a relative of the Serpent King, Seth. His n.o.ble blood was what spared him from being transported to Dragonia, but this immunity did not exonerate him from being punished for the crime he committed against an officer in Brandor's army.

Thirteen seasons ago, Farogwain devoured this man's son while traveling to the Temple of the G.o.ds. Because the serpent's murderous actions happened during a time of peace, Farogwain was forced to live in shame. He was ordered by the senate of Brandor to spend the rest of his life disposing of Grayham's unwanted. The Serpent King, Seth, was left with no choice. He did not want to go to war with Brandor, therefore, he was forced to surrender his slithering cousin.

Farogwain was s.a.d.i.s.tic. As a result, Empire's large, oval arena was the most barbaric setting throughout the worlds. The stage on which the fights were hosted was like no other. The faces chiseled into the stone walls surrounding the sandy surface of the arena looked tortured.

The faith of the people living in Empire made the town's arena unique. Their faith was different from the rest of Southern Grayham. The people of Empire prayed to a G.o.d no other populace wors.h.i.+ped, and they cherished Jervaise's eternal fire.

The town was one of the few places where the G.o.ddess of Fire made a seasonal appearance. While in her ghostly form, she seduced the people into wors.h.i.+pping her. The town sculpted a statue to honor the G.o.ddess over 6,000 seasons ago, and this likeness was placed at the center of the arena.

The G.o.ddess of Fire's statue was surrounded by a circular pool of flame, 16 paces in diameter. Seven other, smaller pools, all square, and nearly seven paces across were also burning. They were scattered across the arena floor and positioned to serve as obstacles to keep the combatants separated after they entered the arena at opposite ends of this high temperature battleground.

As if this was not bad enough, whenever the fights came to Empire, there was one fight filled with convicted felons. These criminals were awaiting transport to Dragonia. They were positioned by each pool. Some were in pairs, while others were in groups of four, but each felon was harnessed and held a key to one of his fellow combatant's shackles inside his stomach. Generally, the most ruthless of these criminals were placed around the circ.u.mference of Jervaise's pool while the weaker criminals were chained to the outskirts of the smaller pools.

All of these convicted beings were used to heighten the hostility of the fighting environment during the Man vs. Beast battle. They were chained by a single wrist, leg, or tail, if necessary, and given weapons. Their metal leashes were heavy, and they all knew the key to their lock was in the belly of one of the other convicts who had been chained to them or to their group.

It was decreed: a criminal who slaughtered another, would be spared transport to Dragonia for 10 Peaks. Further, a criminal who extinguished the life of a primary combatant-a combatant who entered the arena by choice-their transport to Dragonia would be delayed for 30 Peaks. If a prisoner managed to kill both free combatants, man and beast, transport would be delayed for a full season. This prisoner would be given the option to remain on Grayham and be allowed to fight while trying to secure enough victories to earn their freedom.

Since banishment to the dragon world was considered a death sentence, the Man vs. Beast Battles in Empire were the most ruthless and fierce on Grayham. The criminals believed that this was their only chance to lengthen what was left of their life, and those who entered wanted to win at any cost.

Now, fellow soul ... the reason I have told you this-Sam is the free-man who was about to enter Empire's arena. The lottery handed Sam the Man vs. Beast Battle.

"Sam, this is not good," BJ said, after being informed of the lottery results. "I've always hated the way this town has governed the fights. Brandor claims the serpent's punishment is degrading enough. They say Farogwain despises his service to the Senate, but I say otherwise. I say he enjoys the slaughter that happens in his arena. Sam, this fight you've landed is a fool's fight. There's no honor in this battle. I recommend you withdraw your entry."

Sam stood from the wooden bench in his preparation room beneath the arena. He pa.s.sed his hand across the rough stone walls as he moved to grab another sconce to light it before the other ran out of oil. "Okay, okay. Why would I withdraw? If I do, we'll have to start over at the beginning of the circuit. I don't want to kill more men than I need to, just to escape a single fight."

BJ put his hand on Sam's shoulder. "You need to listen to me, son. This is the only battle I would recommend that any man walk away from. You are entering without a weapon. You are fighting a bear who equals your weight, amplified by five and-"

Sam rolled his eyes and interrupted. "It's just a bear. I've learned a lot since we began our training. I can handle it."

"No, son! It's not just a bear. This is more than a single battle. In this arena, the Man vs. Beast confrontation is a series of battles within a much larger battle. You won't be fighting only the bear. According to the lottery registry, you will be fighting another 28 souls. These beings are criminals who fight in desperation. There is a prize on your head. If they manage to get free of their bonds, they will come for you."

"Okay, okay. Hold on a moment! Are you saying that I'm fighting 29 souls in total, and all of them want to kick my a.s.s? What kind of messed up lottery is this?"

Before BJ could respond, Farogwain slithered into Sam's preparation room. The headmaster's body coiled up and filled much of the area, forcing BJ and Sam toward the wall, opposite the door. Farogwain's cobra hood expanded, and the rattle on the end of his tail shook.

Once the reptile was sure he had their attention, his rattle silenced. "I sense fear in you, human. This is an awe-inspiring Peak to watch your blood stain the sand of my arena."

From behind the serpent, just outside the door, the end of Shalee's staff tapped the stone floor. She moved the index finger of her free hand back and forth as she stared Farogwain down. "Hmm, hmm, hmmm! Excuse me, Mr. Slither Pants! This is also a good Peak for little old me to be casting some hocus-pocus on your cold-blooded coils. While I'm at it, I'll create some boots out of your skin."

Shalee took a step toward the snake. "Don't you be comin' down here and makin' threats. You just ran across your worst nightmare. I was a child when I learned how to cut the heads off snakes. You best take yourself out of here before I get angry."

Farogwain's coils tightened, his rattle shook wildly as his head lowered to a height level with Shalee's. His hiss was barely above a whisper. "You're brave for a female of your species. You speak like no other on Grayham. I wonder if you taste as good as you sound. Perhaps your bones will break in a melody within my coils."

Before another word could be said, Shalee slammed her staff against the floor and shouted, "Precious, feya en' nuar, lome!" Her body erupted in flames, and the look of her flesh turned spirit-white just like the G.o.ddess, Jervaise. The heat caused the serpent to pull back and press against the far wall, pinning Sam and BJ behind him.