The Twins (12 page)

Read The Twins Online

Authors: Gary Alan Wassner

Tags: #Fiction, #Fantasy, #epic

Calista stood up, majestic and wise, and walked to the tapestry hanging on the wall to the side of the throne. Raising her arm, the tapestry flew away, revealing a niche in the granite wall. With one hand, she reached in and withdrew a simple pouch of scarred leather, pulled taught with a cord of rawhide.

Handing it to Baladar, she said, “Give this to him to keep with him always. Only at the moment of gravest need may he partake of this powder of creation, made from the Lalas itself. He must choose well and carefully, Baladar. This powder will save his life, but only once. If he wastes it unnecessarily, he may doom us all.”

With that, the Queen of the lake bid farewell to Baladar, kissed him on the forehead and walked back to her throne.

“Farewell, my Lady. I have lingered longer than I should have. This is but the beginning, but one last question if I may?” he asked. Calista nodded her permission. “Should the need arise, may I visit you again?” he queried, expecting the answer to be affirmative.

“I fear not, my devoted Baladar,” she responded, as he paled noticeably at her reply. “I must concentrate upon the darkness now that the boy has come, and I cannot weaken. It will require all of my energies and I must not allow myself to be distracted. Perhaps some time in the future we will meet again, but I will not allow my pathways, my secret ways, to be opened to anyone until Colton dar Agonthea is vanquished or the First falls! I will do my best to aid you in ways you may never know. I will never cease my efforts on your and the boy’s behalf, but I must toil in my own manner. Alas, I must do so in solitude. Remember! My shores will be sealed to all until such time as the trees are safe or a power greater than mine breaks through,” she said, causing Baladar to frown with concern.

“We have talked long enough. Now go. You have much work to do. Firstspeed, my son,” she said with finality, smiling sweetly at him.

Consumed with sadness and a terrible sense of loss, Baladar realized that this answer was definitive, dictated by circumstance and fate. He turned and began his journey back home, disheartened by the thought of possibly never seeing the Lady again in this lifetime, but ultimately focusing upon his overwhelming determination to carry out his appointed task.

Chapter Thirteen

Baladar traversed the pathways back to the edge of the woods, experiencing once again the unsettling but euphoric passage to his plain of existence, when Porta appeared, calm and rested. Mounting his steed, he spurred him onward. As he cleared the dense brush, he became aware that more time had passed than he had realized. To Baladar, it seemed as if only a few hours had gone by since his arrival at the island on the lake. But as he had come at night, and now the sun was nearing the horizon in the western sky, he recognized that at least perhaps nearly a full day had elapsed, if not more.

Suddenly, his skin prickled as a feeling of foreboding overtook him, and he felt an urgency to return to the castle as rapidly as possible. Expectation quickly transformed itself into concern as he rushed through the brambles, pressing Porta’s sides with his heels, a reckless abandon forcing him forward. Bursting out of the woods, Baladar galloped forth to the stable gates.

Halting in a swirl of dust, he wasted no time in jumping from his seat on Porta’s bare back and leaving his friend to be attended to by his stable-master. Unaccustomed to his liege Lord behaving in so rash a manner, Tanner, the master of the horses, rushed to his aid only to receive a curt nod and witness the back of his lord’s robes as Baladar rushed off to the castle with hardly a word spoken, leaving him standing wide-mouthed and startled. Porta whinnied in salute to Baladar, but he was already gone.

Baladar’s concern mounted as he neared the main entryway to the keep. What had been a bustling court the evening prior was now empty of everyone except some housemaids and a young page. Of course, all of the evening’s guests had gone home by this time, but the aides and servants who arrived with Lord Kettin should have still been milling around. Something was amiss! He never did trust Kettin and having left him alone to his own devices in the castle was probably a mistake.

He burst into the great hall thinking of only one thing when Grogan, the head of his personal guard, rushed into the antechamber with a cortege of attendants, all fully armed and obviously agitated.

“My Lord,” he said as he bowed deeply to Baladar. “I am afraid there has been an incident in the castle during your absence. It seems sir Dalek and Lord Kettin had been drinking rather extensively after you departed last evening. They apparently began arguing rather boisterously over Kettin’s interest in Dalek’s niece, you know the wench named Daria with the beautiful eyes, when Lord Kettin pulled out a dagger and thrust it into Dalek’s side. He died immediately, your lordship. He did not suffer,” Grogan said sadly, staring at Baladar with his shoulders back and his body stiff.

Baladar felt as if someone had hit him in the stomach with the end of a jousting stick.

Dalek dead? Is the boy safe?

Not wanting to alert anyone else in the castle to the youth’s presence, Baladar knew that he had to dwell here for a while and learn all of the details before he could slip away and attend the boy.

“Dalek? Ah, this grieves me deeply. Were you able to assess blame here, Grogan? Was Dalek at fault? Did Kettin suffer injury?” Baladar queried, wishing that it had been Lord Kettin who would soon lay upon the pyre instead of his good and loyal aid, Dalek.

“Lord Kettin feigned weakness afterwards, my Lord, and expressed outrage at his treatment under your roof, but he was unhurt. All who witnessed the incident swore that Dalek never raised a hand to the Duke’s son. I interrogated those present and I have determined that Kettin provoked the attack, for what reason I could not ascertain. He harbored no ill will toward Dalek previously. He is on his way back to his father’s lands as we speak. He retreated to his rooms immediately after he, pardon me your lordship, murdered Dalek, expressing no remorse whatsoever, and he alerted his attendants that he would be departing straightaway in the morning.

“He said to tell you, my Lord, and please forgive me, these are his words, not mine, that it was clear that his presence was unwelcome in your home and that he feared for his safety under your roof. He ordered me to emphasize to you that he felt his treatment here was an insult to him and to his father, and that he had to believe that you intended it to appear that way. He said to tell you that the offer of alliance he carried with him on the Duke’s behalf would have to be withdrawn and reconsidered, under the circumstances. He said that other options had to be addressed and that old affiliations may have to be reevaluated, that the wind has changed direction. He said to tell you that his father would not take this incident lightly, as he, his heir apparent, was threatened and that his very life was in danger while he was supposed to be under your protection.” Grogan bowed his head apologetically and waited for instructions.

“Thank you, Grogan. I appreciate your candor,” Baladar responded. “I would never hold you responsible for the words of such a one as Kettin, Duke Leonardo’s son. I wonder if his father was privy to who took part in these depraved actions. Kettin surely had another agenda when he arrived here, outside of the realm of a friendly visit, and I fear that Dalek suffered the ultimate fate so that Kettin could foster this ruse. I am deeply aggrieved,” Baladar said with much sentiment.

Returning his attention once more to the situation at hand he then asked, “By the way, when did our uninvited guest finally depart, being that he felt so unsafe here?” While he questioned his Master at Arms, sadness and anxiety was making it difficult for him to stand inactive, but he did his best.

“He was late to rise, your lordship, and he needed time to gather his men and deal with some private matters. He demanded a hot breakfast for them all before he left, which he did not attend. I bade them farewell, nevertheless, but he was not present when I did so. He could not have rejoined the others until they were mounted and ready to go, as I never saw Lord Kettin again. The group did not embark until well after 9:00 in the morning. He was quite secretive about his leave taking prior to then, pretending that he was unsafe, and he desired that we remain well out of his reach and sight until he cleared our lands. He chided me and warned me that if I followed him he would take that as a sign of aggression and that as he was already the victim here, it would only exacerbate the ill will. He mentioned how much he disliked being spied upon, insinuating that we were watching him too closely.”

Baladar scowled, “I take responsibility for this situation. Whether or not what Kettin claims has any truth to it, we shall all bear the brunt of his visit. I am afraid that we will one and all learn in time what the true purpose of his sojourn here was. I should never have quit the castle until I was able to determine his true intentions.” He paused for a moment, anxious to attend to other matters. “Grogan, secure the gates and post a watch. We must now be vigilant at all times until the Duke and I can meet face to face and correct this wrong, if such can be done at this point. I have some thinking to do and pressing matters to attend to. Forgive me. Temian, see to Dalek’s arrangements, and make sure that he is properly handled. He was very dear to me and we shall all sorely miss him.”

Baladar turned and walked away, hiding his anxiety as he slowly made his way out of the hall toward the master stairway.

Once out of sight of Grogan and his men, he bounded up the steps, taking two at a time, and headed directly for his rooms. His trepidation was mounting as he neared his private suites where the boy, Davmiran, lay sleeping. The ring hanging beneath his tunic was burning his skin, and he winced in pain.

Flinging the door open, he entered the chamber and gasped at what he saw. The boy was gone! His bed was empty and not a trace of him was to be found.

How could that bastard of a Duke’s son have known he was even here?
Baladar thought furiously.
I must find him and bring him back immediately. What chance have we without him? The world is on the brink of chaos and our one hope has been kidnaped by a fool!
he declared silently.
Does he even know what he has done? I must catch up with him and retrieve Davmiran!
he thought as he considered his options, fearing now with the loss of the boy, that the death of Dalek, his loyal and trusted aide, was merely a foreshadowing of the disappointment and sorrow that was to come.

Baladar poignantly remembered Calista’s words, yet the true weight of the past day’s deeds had not fully descended upon him. He was unwilling to accept that the heir would not be found. The thought was inconceivable, after having waited so long and so patiently, that he could have slipped through his fingers so quickly.

How careless have I been? To have left him unguarded no matter how serious the purpose which drew me away, borders upon negligence! Could this all have been by design? Have I fallen into a trap that may cost us all so dearly?

He started to suspect everything, even his own cogitations and inspirations, wondering if Colton had infiltrated his thoughts and his home. Calista spoke of the Dark Lord’s power and of his deviousness, his ability to twist people’s minds.

Has he already defeated us?
Baladar worried.
Could it be that his victory would be so simple to achieve, that one misstep by me could possibly mean the end of the world as we know it?

Consumed by these concerns, he frantically planned his next move. He was not one to give up, even in the face of seemingly insurmountable odds, and he would not give up now. If the boy was to be found, he would locate him and bring him back safely to Pardatha.

The sun had set by this time, and Baladar knew that Kettin could not have traveled too far, considering how much baggage his retinue carried with it, and how opposed to discomfort Lord Kettin was. He could not travel at top speed, even after having taken the boy.

I could overtake him on Porta in a matter of hours
, he thought, desperately trying to determine what to do.

He needed to make some serious decisions, and he had to make them swiftly. Moving to his desk, he withdrew the small pouch that harbored his gems. He retrieved the Lalas disk from the cabinet against the wall and set it down on the desktop. Placing the stones one by one at opposite sides of the disk, he began to hum.

As he sank into the trance of power that was required to activate the disk, concentrating upon Kettin’s image, a picture began to form amidst the swirling colors within the borders of the wood. The stones flared brightly, creating an arc of light above the desk. Baladar carefully scanned the images, searching for signs of the boy.

He could see Kettin sitting upon his horse, chatting with his man-at-arms. He seemed casual and unconcerned about anything. Since there were no wagons within the entourage, Baladar could see everyone who was traveling with Kettin, and to his shock and consternation, Davmiran was nowhere to be found! He reviewed it once again, careful not to miss scrutinizing any area of Kettin’s group. There was no sign of the boy!

Confusion overtook him as he searched the group once more. Nothing! Not a trace of him. He broadened the field of the image to encompass a wider radius, but to no avail. In utter dismay he let the image disappear, carefully returning the gems to the pouch and placing the disk back in the spot he had removed it from.

Perhaps I was wrong
, he thought, his mind rapidly assessing the other possibilities.
Maybe Kettin did not take the boy. But if not he, then who did?

Baladar sat down in his large chair in the corner of the room and peered out the leaded windows toward the eastern horizon.

“How could I have been such a blasted idiot!” he exclaimed out loud.

Of course the boy would not be with him any longer, even if it was he who abducted him originally. The spell that I cast upon him would have insured that all of their memories of his existence would have disappeared from their consciousness’ immediately upon their departure from the confines of the city’s walls. They would have left him outside the gates, unaware of his presence. Or, they would have continued to carry him with them unbeknownst to the entire party, until he fell from his horse or wandered away. He could be with them and still be safe! But, then I would have seen him,”
his mind raced on.
No, they must have left him behind somewhere, wandering on whatever means of transportation they had placed him on, most likely a mule or a pack horse.

Baladar was thinking quickly now, trying to picture exactly what must have happened as they crossed the threshold of his premises. At first, he felt relieved that Kettin’s evil intentions had been thwarted by his magic, but then he instantly realized that now the boy would be on his own, defenseless and vulnerable, though invisible to any humans. Humans were certainly not the only danger in the woods. His life could be in more imminent risk abandoned and on his own, than in the company of the Duke’s son.

What Baladar had construed would serve to protect Davmiran, was now going to be a liability to him, perhaps a fatal one!

“I was not blessed with the young man’s presence only to lose him so quickly,” he muttered. “I must think, I must find him! He is in grave peril and every moment that passes enhances the risk for all of us. May the First grant me wisdom and aid my search!” he exclaimed.

If the Dark Lord indeed sent the Duke’s son to carry out this evil deed, then he may be searching for him as well. Could he see through my magic?
Baladar wondered, fearfully.

In despair, Baladar stared out into the darkness, questioning what to do next, shivering with concern and feeling the weight of the world upon his shoulders, while the ring continued to burn with an ever raging heat, suspended from its golden chain on the middle of his chest.

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