Shaper of Stone (The Shapers Book 1) (24 page)

Urat did not wait for the thralkin
named Tarog to reach him. “There are only six bodies. Where is
the other one?”

Tarog ran to his leader and stood
defiantly before his rage. To cower or show fear would only make it
worse. Tarog had failed. He had failed to remain hidden and had
alarmed the horses. A man had escaped, and now the blame would fall
to him. Tarog knew his life was in Urat’s hands.

“He is gone, Kai Urat. His horses
bolted as we attacked. Allow me, and when I capture him, his skin
will make a fine belt to honor you.”

The cub had courage, and it pleased
Urat, leader of the hunt. Tarog’s fate would not be decided
this day.

“Go! Find the Northman. You have
until the sun sets in two days.”

“It will be done,” answered
Tarog. Without waiting for further instructions the lone thralkin
snatched a spear from a corpse and raced after the fleeing rider.

Urat waited in the center of the bodies
as the remaining members of the hunting pack staked the captured
horses upwind of the ambush site. It would not do to have the horses
run off a second time while the thralkin dressed their kill.

-o-

The Whitebarrow council chamber was
carved not surprisingly from white stone. Curved benches rested on
three raised tiers. It allowed the people seated upon them to have a
clear view of the seven chairs sitting behind the council table at
the far end of the room. The central chair was larger than the
others. It was reserved for the King, although no one present could
recall when that seat was last filled.

The other chairs were in use, although
not all were in use at the moment. Of the six men who comprised the
royal council of Harith, five were seated. The sixth stood and
addressed both his peers and the gathered nobility who waited to
learn the fate of the Barony of Kelit.

“My Lords and Ladies, the
petition to pass stewardship of the Barony of Kelit to the Lady
Abella Constantine, heir to Lord Vatrale of the Order of Masters,
Steward of Kelit until his passing three months past, has been
rejected. The title of Baron of Kelit has by royal decree been
bestowed upon Lord Amelio Sareth for services to the crown.”

A murmur passed through the crowd at
this announcement. The young man seated next to Lady Abella would
have jumped to his feet were it not for the hooded figure next to
him. No sooner had the young man begun to move than a red claw
emerged from the sleeve of the robe to pull him back into his seat.

“In recognition of the Lady
Abella’s service to the Barony of Kelit and to the Crown of
Harith the council has decreed that she shall be granted title to an
estate within the borders of Whitebarrow. Furthermore, the Lady
Abella will be granted a stipend to maintain the estate and support
herself in a manner befitting a person of her stature.”

The crowd seemed more surprised by the
second statement, and for a few minutes the voices on the benches
drowned out any other noise. The Lady Abella rose to her feet after
reassuring her companion. As the others in the chamber noticed her
they grew quiet, waiting for her to speak.

The young woman was dressed in a
flowing blue dress that set off the color of her sapphire eyes. Lace
ribbons were braided through golden hair that fell to her waist. Her
complexion was a little paler than normal. It was the only outward
sign of the ordeal she endured months before. She waited while the
noise in the chamber died down. Her eyes never leaving the council
member pronouncing her fate.

“My Lords. Kelit has been my home
since I was a young girl, and it saddens me to leave, but I am
comforted by the knowledge that the stewardship passes to one as
worthy as Lord Sareth. For myself, I am grateful for the recognition
the council has bestowed upon me. I pray that I will be able to
continue serving the people of Harith.”

There were a few who applauded her
acceptance of the council’s decision, but even more who
remained silent. A slight that did not go unnoticed by the young man
at her side.

The council spoke for another twenty
minutes before declaring an end to the session. The young man was
ready to flee the chamber at the first opportunity, but those he sat
with stayed in place until only they remained. The council member who
had addressed the audience now turned his full attention to them.

-o-

Devin Symms, the young man who sat next
to Abella during the proceedings, was furious. He knew the outcome
before entering the chamber. The council session was simply a
formality to make it official. It still pissed him off.

He knew Abella didn’t want to
return to Kelit. That there were too many memories that she wanted to
forget, but as Vatrale’s last living heir she couldn’t
just walk away. He knew the estate in Whitebarrow would be for the
best.

What bothered him was the council’s
refusal to condemn Lord Vatrale, the man who was once the Steward of
Kelit and who raised Abella like a niece. Vatrale who secretly
abducted Abella as a child in order to restore the soul of his lost
love into her body. A man who drained the life from countless people
over decades to gather the power he needed to attempt the ritual. A
man who ripped Devin from his home and pulled him into this world in
order to siphon even more power.

A man, who in the eyes of this world,
was considered a humanitarian and educator. A lie that the council
chose to perpetuate over the truth.

Devin hated Vatrale in a way he could
not explain nor even have comprehended a year ago. He had been
imprisoned, tortured and nearly killed by the madman. Since Vatrale’s
defeat the rage only increased. At times he scared himself.

-o-

Tibron could sense the rage in the
young man next to him, and it concerned him. He fought next to Devin,
coming close to death when he cleared the way that allowed Devin to
rescue Abella from Vatrale, and he had not sensed the rage in his
friend then. Not like now.

Tibron planned to return home with the
Soul Stone, a holy relic that Vatrale stole from his people. It was a
key component in the ritual to create a portal to the spirit world.
Instead, he found himself trapped in the politics of Whitebarrow, and
his departure delayed.

Now that the council had finally acted
he would be free to leave.

He enjoyed the time he spent with his
new friends. His associations with humans beyond the borders of his
home have been few and less than friendly in most cases. The
companions that he met during the hunt to stop Vatrale were the
exceptions. They judged a man by what he did, not by how he looked.

Tibron was a dracoman. The humans often
called his people lizard men based on their resemblance to large
reptiles. Green skin, eyes with slit pupils, and a snout filled with
rows of sharp teeth were common features among the dracomen.

Most humans would be amazed to learn
that dracomen have a culture that extends beyond simple killing. The
humans treated any species that looked differently as ignorant
savages. They were wrong more often than not, yet still the prejudice
lingered.

To make Tibron’s experience with
the humans even more difficult, he lacked many of the characteristics
of his people. His skin was a dark red, and his eyes were a light
blue that looked more human than catlike. His facial features were
softer, his snout less pronounced, and only a single ridge ran along
his skull as opposed to the three that were common among the
dracomen. Most humans mistook him for an outcast, lesser than the
others. They were wrong. But even if they knew the truth, it was no
guarantee that interacting with them would be any easier.

Returning home would free him from the
curious stares as he entered a room. It would also mean leaving his
new friends behind. That was unless the councilor’s plan
worked.

-o-

The councilor who addressed the
audience, Marchello Feratus, moved with confidence to the three
companions. In his youth he served as an officer in the Harith Guard
until he stepped down to follow his father into politics. His
experience serving in the guard granted him an insight into other
people that he often found lacking in many of his fellow councilors.
Even now his peers would prefer to sweep events under the rug. They
saw only shame and disgrace where Marchello found hope and
opportunity.

He was never one to cower in the face
of adversity, and he recognized that same kindred spark in the three
before him. A great change was coming. Marchello could feel it in the
pit of his stomach. It was the same sort of feeling that kept him
focused when his battles involved swords and not words. He trusted it
then, and he would trust it now. And now, it told him he needed these
three.

“Thank you for waiting,”
started the councilor with a slight bow to Abella.

Before the councilor could continue, he
was interrupted by Devin. “You couldn’t do it, could
you?”

“Denounce Vatrale? No. It was
easier to say that he had died in the attack on Kelit than that he
spent decades kidnapping and killing people without anyone noticing.
Only a handful of us know the truth and even in that small circle it
is barely accepted. Most prefer to believe a pretty lie than a harsh
truth. To be honest, it is not Vatrale that concerns me, but his
master”

“Talamas,” offered Tibron
with a nod of his head. “He led me in circles and I never
suspected his involvement.”

Devin agreed. “He knew what was
going on the entire time and played all of us. He needed Vatrale to
open the portal.”

“His brothers,” added
Abella. “At the end he called for his brothers, and he went on
about how he claimed the wrong one when he first arrived.”

“Yeah, I don’t think
Talamas was really there anymore. Something came through the portal
and it took him over. Vatrale tried to reproduce the portal so he
could restore his dead fiance to life in Abella’s body, but
Talamas had other plans. He wanted to open a doorway.” Devin
paused before adding, “A doorway that led to those shadowy
creatures that attacked me before we closed it. Has anyone figured
out what those things were?”

The councilor shook his head. “No,
although I have someone I trust looking into it. Without more to go
on, I don’t know how much he will be able to uncover. Actually,
that is part of the reason I wished to speak with you three. Lord
Tibron do you still plan to return to your home in Canboria at the
end of the week.”

“I do. I am no longer needed
here, and I have already delayed too long. Plus your own people are
anxious to begin. You have no doubt heard that I have agreed to
present your ambassador to my father.”

“There has been a slight change
in plans. The ambassador will be unable to make the journey, and I’ll
be traveling in his place. Abella. Devin. I’d like you to come
with us.”

“What is the purpose of this
change?” asked Tibron. “I will take part in no plan meant
to deceive my father or my people.”

“Nor should you. I have worked
for years to improve relationships between our two people, and I will
do everything that I can to see that dream realized. Which is why I
have decided to act as the ambassador to your people. I wish our
intentions to be open and clear.”

The councilor paused, taking a moment
to look at each of the people standing before him. “We haven’t
learned much about these shadows that Devin saw, but what we have
learned suggests the elders of the dracomen might have the answers we
seek. If nothing else they are familiar with the Soul Stone that was
used in the ritual. If your people chose to help us, we will be most
grateful, but should they decline, we will respect their decision. In
either case, it is my hope to bridge the gap between our two lands.”

Tibron bowed his head slightly. “As
do I, and I would welcome the company of Abella and Devin.”

“But, I was just granted land in
the capital. Won’t there be problems if I leave now?”
asked Abella.

The councilor shook his head. “Not
really. Many of the estates in the capital remain virtually empty,
and this will give us time to have it prepared for you. At least that
is the story that we will spread.”

Devin scratched at his hair. “Shira
and Duncan are waiting for us in Ironholt, but I think they would be
the first to agree that we need to find out as much as we can about
what Vatrale did. If Tibron doesn’t mind us tagging along, I’d
like to go.”

Abella smiled and said, “I would
love to see Tibron’s home. I’ve spent so much time in
Kelit reading about other lands, but never visiting them. Now that I
am free to follow my own path I want to see them for myself.”

The councilor clapped his hands
together while returning the smile. “Excellent! If no one
objects I will make the final arrangements.”

-o-

The councilor went on to explain all
the arrangements that would need to be made, but Devin wasn’t
listening. In the shadows beneath the archway lurked a hooded figure.
Devin wasn’t sure how long the man stood there, but he couldn’t
shake the feeling the man was watching them.

Before he could bring it to anyone’s
attention the man was gone. It was like he vanished into the shadows.
Considering how dark the archway was, that was the most likely
explanation. A quick step backwards into the darkness and he would be
all but invisible.

Devin gave a mental shrug. It probably
wasn’t important, but he’d mention it to the others
later.

-o--o--o-

A corpse slouched forward on the chair.
A few minutes ago it was a young, vibrant woman with vivid blue eyes
and long blond hair. Now the flesh clung to her bones and only a few
strands of hair still hung from the shriveled skull.

Curtains fluttered as a cool breeze
passed through the open window. The candles burning on the table
flickered, casting shadows over the tear stained face of a young man
curled in the corner. His arms wrapped around his knees while he
rocked back against the wall. His eyes frantically darted between the
remains of his companion and the glowing object hovering in the
middle of the chamber.