Into the Fray: Volume 1 of The Sorcerers of Jhanvia Series (20 page)

The lead sorcerer replied, “True, but I’m not suggesting that we do anything for him that would not serve
our
needs. Under the cover of his ravings, we will be able to actively pursue our objectives unnoticed. Besides, some of his plans fit comfortably with ours and could easily be syncretized with no one the wiser. It would also keep us close to the Valtyr’s child.”

The third sorcerer paused for a moment and then said, “Your point is well taken.”

The lead sorcerer turned to Satreka and announced, “We agree to your terms.”

“Excellent,” the Scecian replied. He motioned for the soldier by the door to come over. “This man will take you to your rooms.”

“If it please your lordship, we would rather be seen to a place where we may conduct our rites. We require a dark, secure location, preferably in the deepest part of the castle.”

“As you wish. Soldier, take these men to Dulica. Tell him it is my command that he give them anything they require.”

“I understand, my lord. Gentlemen…,” the soldier motioned for them to follow.

The sorcerers stood motionless and silent.

“What is it?” Satreka asked.

The lead sorcerer stated, “We require payment as agreed. Twenty silver pieces.”

“You want me to pay you in advance?” Satreka’s face became a little flush with anger.

“That was our agreement,” the sorcerer replied calmly.

His fury was evident, but what could he do? He needed them much more than they needed him. He looked over at Zakrell and held out his hand demanding his purse. The big man gave it over and Satreka counted out twenty silvers. “Here is your payment. I expect to see significant benefits from this investment.”

The lead sorcerer took the money and hid it in his cloak as before, and then said, “Please allay your anxiety. We will not disappoint.”

“Tell me your names,” Satreka commanded.

The lead sorcerer replied, “My name is Juun, this is Nalim and Aliko,” motioning first to the man behind him on the left and then to the man behind him to the right.

“Very well,” Satreka replied. “Soldier….”

The young man took his cue, “Gentlemen, if you will follow me.”

The sorcerers turned and left the room with their caretaker. Satreka leapt onto the raised platform and took a seat on the high back chair. Zakrell stared at him.

“What?” demanded Satreka. “You want your money back, I take it?”

The young warlord silently smiled, but it was obvious that is what he wanted.

“Soldier,” Satreka called out to the same soldier who previously handled the money, “Go get twenty silvers and give them to Zakrell.”

“Yes, my lord,” the soldier replied as he went off to his assigned duty.

“You don’t trust me, Zakrell?”

“My lord, of course I trust you.”

“I would hope so after all we’ve been through,” Satreka said with a smile on his face.

A young soldier hurriedly entered and announced, “My lord Satreka, lord Kutrik and….”

“Get out of the way, boy,” Kutrik pushed the young soldier to the side as he angrily made his way through the main door, his bold strides indicative of his state of mind as he determinedly walked toward his protégé at the far end of the room. He was a big, muscular man, maybe six and a half feet tall and he was wearing the finest, ornately designed, red woolen cloak with golden trim. His long blond hair showed streaks of gray as it fell over his shoulders to the middle of his back. Most telling was his scruffy full gray beard that hinted at his age of about fifty years. He was followed by three of his most loyal soldiers.

Satreka was immediately out of the chair, “My lord Kutrik.”

“What is this I hear about you capturing a Valtyr and holding her here?” Kutrik demanded in his naturally deep, gruff voice.

“My lord, let me explain,” Satreka responded.

Kutrik’s anger could not be contained, “What is there to explain? Are you trying to get us all killed? When the Valtyr realize that you are keeping one of their own here against her will, they will come at us with unrivaled ferocity. We will be lucky to catch a breath before they rip our throats out.”

Satreka was hesitant to speak because he knew his words would elicit ridicule.

“Well…?” Kutrik gruffly demanded.

“She is my consort,” he said tamely.

Kutrik laughed, “Your consort? That’s absurd.”

“It is true. She is pregnant with my child.”

“Zakrell, is this true?”

“Yes, my lord, it is.”

“Where is her mate?” Kutrik asked.

Satreka replied, “She is in the dungeon under Klur’s watchful eye.”

Kutrik was furious. “Are you really that ignorant? Don’t you realize that the Valtyr communicate with each other through mind links? The entire Valtyr clan are likely aware of her plight at this very moment.”

“My sorcerers are blocking her mind links with their magic.”

“The Valtyr know when they have lost one of their clan because their mind links have been severed. It never occurred to you that by breaking their mind links it would bring attention to this situation?” There was a telling silence. Kutrik was exasperated, “No, I suppose not. Where did you find them?”

Zakrell replied, “My men picked them up five or so miles northeast of Triami.”

Kutrik motioned with two fingers for his lead soldier to come near. The young man, maybe of twenty-two years, stood out from the others with his red cloak embroidered with a border of interwoven black and gold. He whispered so Satreka could not hear, “Resali, this is a very dangerous situation.”

“Yes, my lord,” the young captain replied quietly.

“I think the best plan here is to kill both of the Valtyr and make it look as if someone else had done it. We should leave them near the place where they were first captured.”

“As you wish,” Resali agreed.

He continued, “I want you to see to this personally. Take Satreka and make sure the Valtyr are well with no telling marks that could be traced to us. Report back to me what you find. I will fetch some Dhoyan weapons. They and the Valtyr never really got on. Maybe we can deflect this problem off in their direction.”

“Very good, my lord.”

Kutrik addressed those in attendance, “Resali will go with Satreka and observe the two Valtyr. The rest of you, off to your duties.” As the men bowed and went to their assigned tasks, he called out to one of his lieutenants, “Gushol, I have a special task for you.”

As they came up to a heavy wooden door at the end of a great stone hallway, Satreka put his hand on Resali’s broad chest. “This Valtyr is my consort. I expect you to show proper respect and decorum.”

“I understand, my lord. My charge is only to observe,” he confirmed.

Satreka nodded his acknowledgement. He knocked gently on the door and pushed it open. “Natilya, may we enter?”

A Valtyr, statuesque at six feet tall, was standing by a large open window that allowed the fresh breeze to enter. She was wearing a grand floor-length woolen white dress with the faintest hints of lapis blue that accentuated her most feminine curves. Its rounded neck line was most revealing, richly embroidered with layers of tiny white petals in the thinnest cloth, which gave the illusion of multiple dimensions. Its long sleeves hugged her arms, finished at the wrists with tiny embroidered swirls of the darkest blue. A white braided cloth cord, looped in front, was wrapped around her waist and sat loosely on her hips. She turned to him, pushed her long blond hair away from her face and replied, “Of course, my love.”

The two men entered. Resali stood respectfully by the door while Satreka went over, kissed her, and then explained, “This is one of Kutrik’s most trusted captains. His name is Resali. Resali, this is Natilya, my consort.”

He walked over, bowed and kissed her hand. “It is a pleasure to meet you, my lady.” He took note of her perfectly combed hair and finely manicured fingernails. Her barely-noticeable blond eyebrows, that centered with a rounded v-shaped at the top of her smallish nose, gracefully flowed over her deep blue eyes and slipped under her hairline, painting a perfect flowing accent to her face so unintentionally deceitful as to never betray her true years, and leading the eye to her softly pointed ears.

“I am honored,” she replied to the captain. She looked to Satreka and asked with bright eyes, “Lord Kutrik is here? May I meet him?”

“Maybe later. How are you feeling?”

“I am well. Are we going to the lakeshore today?”

“I hope we can, but I must attend to a few things for Kutrik first. Resali, we should proceed to our next task.”

The young soldier bowed and said, “It was a pleasure, my lady. Will we see you at dinner this evening?”

“Yes, of course.”

“I look forward with anticipation to our next meeting,” Resali stated as he began backing toward the door.

Satreka kissed her and said as he headed for the door, “I will look in later.” He closed the door with hardly a sound, and then he said softly, “The other Valtyr is in the deepest part of the castle.”

“Lead on, my lord.”

Satreka led him to a circular stone stairway at the end of the hall which took them down a three levels to the servant’s chambers. He continued along the hallway to a narrow, poorly lit staircase that took them ever deeper into the castle’s darkest recesses. They stepped off the last step into a large room lit only by a few torches. Most noticeable was the underlying stench of blood and urine. And then there were the chains, shackles, leather straps and other more creative devices that were located about, leaving no doubt over the intended use of this place. Satreka looked around and saw only his dungeon master, who was tending to things at the far wall.

“Klur!” Satreka called out.

“Yes, my lord,” he responded as he laid some of his tools on a wooden table and approached. He was a man of average height, but a little pudgy around the belly. He wore a white long sleeve shirt under his black leather vest with black pants and boots. As he got closer, a rather bold scar running up his right cheek became visible in the limited torchlight, hinting at the tales of battles he had seen in his thirty-five years.

“Where is the Valtyr?” Satreka asked.

“She is dead, my lord.”

“What?!” Satreka exclaimed, as he was taken completely by surprise.

“She grabbed at her chest and just fell to the floor. We could not revive her,” he explained.

Satreka grabbed him roughly by his leather vest, drove him back against the wall and angrily demanded, “What did you do to her?”

“Nothing, my lord. I swear it happened as I described,” Klur’s eyes were wide with fear.

Resali interjected, “Where is her body?”

“We burned it,” he answered.

Resali looked at Satreka with the tiniest smirk of gratification and stated, “I must report this to Kutrik.” Without hesitation he turned and headed back up the stairs.

Satreka looked unmercifully at Klur and promised, “We aren’t done here.” He ran off in an effort to catch up.

Resali was quick up the stairs and back to the great hall. He entered with Satreka on his heels and proceeded directly to Kutrik.

“Ah, Resali. What did you find?” the clan leader asked.

“My lord. The Valtyr that Satreka claims to be his consort seems well cared for and in good condition. Her mate, however, is dead. Klur states that she simply collapsed and died.”

Kutrik look disappointed, “Not totally unexpected. I have seen that before. The Valtyr bond is extremely powerful. Upon realizing the fate of her lover, she probably died from a languished heart. Where is her body?”

“Klur states that it has been burned,” Resali replied.

Kutrik rubbed his forehead with his pudgy fingers in contemplation and with frustration for a few silent moments, and then he commanded, “I wish for Satreka to stay. Everyone else, get out.”

The soldiers all bowed and headed for the door. The last one through closed it behind him.

“What are you up to?” Kutrik asked angrily.

“I am working to create a new breed of warrior, a hybrid of human and Valtyr. I have used the talents of a group of sorcerers to impregnate the Valtyr, and just this day it has been confirmed that she is carrying my child.”

Kutrik’s tolerance of his young aide was waning, “She would never have willingly submitted to this. How are you controlling her?”

“Surprisingly, Dulica conjured a little potion that allows me to direct the thoughts and actions of another. Through the use of this spell, I have simply convinced her that she is completely devoted to me. She believes that she is my consort and that I am in love with her.”

“You realize that your actions have put all of us in great danger?”

“I believe the risk is well worth it. The son she carries will be a great and powerful leader. He will ensure that my vision is carried through and that our people rule this land for the ages.”

Kutrik paced back and forth for a few moments organizing his next words. His tone turned more fatherly as he said, “The Valtyr will come for her. Their capacity to make war is unlimited. For one of their own, they would massacre all those who follow us. The best option now is to kill the Valtyr in a way that directs responsibility to some other clan. I was thinking that the Dhoyans would be a good choice.”

“I disagree. If successful, this plan could bring us unlimited power in the region. I believe we should allow the Valtyr to give birth. We can evaluate our circumstances at that time.”

Kutrik’s frustration finally hit its limits. “You really don’t see the danger here? In days long past, we confronted the Valtyr. I have seen first-hand what they can do. Their methods are methodical and without emotion, and they would cut a path of destruction through our ranks that would make the rivers run red with our blood. Your apparent blindness to this threat has demonstrated your ignorance, arrogance and recklessness. I am going to instruct Resali to kill the Valtyr.” He turned to leave.

Satreka summoned up his courage, “Be careful, my friend. I will not allow you or any of your men to interfere in my work. You perceive my actions as arrogant and reckless, but I see them as bold and visionary. Your cautious nature has held us back for far too long. The time has come for a great leap forward in our efforts to dominate this land. Maybe it’s time that
I
took the reins of leadership.”