The Cleric Quintet: The Fallen Fortress (Page 25)
Cadderly repeatedly saw the red ground of that distant world closing over the fallen wizard, ending a sad chapter of wasted, misused potential.
"You had to do it," Danica said unexpectedly. Cadderly blinked at her in disbelief that soon turned to amusement How well she knew him!
His reply was a nod and a sincere, if resigned, smile. Cadderly felt no guilt for what he had done; he had found the truth as his father never had, Aballister, not Cadderly, had forced the conclusion. *
The small room lit up as Dorigen entered, bearing a candelabra. "Castle Trinity's soldiers are scattering to the four winds," she said. "All of their leaders are dead - except for myself, and I have no desire to continue what Aballister has started."
Danica nodded her approval, but Cadderly scowled.
"What is it?" the surprised monk asked him.
"Are we to let them run free, perhaps to cause more mischief?" he asked.
"There remain nearly three thousand of them," Dorigen reminded him. "You really have little choice in the matter. But take heart, young priest, for the threat to Carradoon, to the library, to all the region is surely ended. And I will return with you to your library, to face the judgment of your superiors."
My superiors? Cadderly thought incredulously. Dean Thobicus? The notion reminded him that he had many things yet to accomplish if he was to follow the course Deneir had laid out before him. One battle was ended, but another was yet to be fought.
"Their judgment will be harsh," Danica replied, and from her tone it was obvious that she did not wish any serious harm to come to the repentant wizard. "They may execute ..." Danica's grim voice trailed off as Dorigen nodded her acceptance of that fact
"No, they will not," Cadderly said quietly. "You will come back, Dorigen, and you will serve a penance. But with your powers and sincere desire, you have much that you can contribute. You, Dorigen, will help heal the scars of this war, and help better the region. That is the proper course, and the course the library will follow."
Again, Dorigen nodded, and she smiled warmly at Cadderly, the man who had spared her in Shilmista Forest, the man who apparently meant to spare her once more.
Tell me of mercy, wise Cadderly," Dorigen remarked. "Is it strength, or weakness?"
"Strength," the young priest answered without hesitation.
*****
Cadderly stood on the rocky slope above Castle Trinity, flanked by his five friends. "You have ordered them to abandon this place?" he asked Dorigen, coming up the rise to join them.
"I have told the men that they will be welcomed in Carra-doon," the wizard replied. "Though I doubt that many will head that way. I have told the ogres, the ores, and the goblins to go and find holes in the mountains, to run away and cause no more mischief."
"But many remain within the fortress?" Cadderly stated as much as asked.
Dorigen looked back to Trinity's uncompleted walls and shrugged. "Ogres, ores, and goblins are stubborn beasts."
Cadderly eyed the fortress contemptuously. He remembered the other plane, the earthquake he had brought about to bury AbalHster, and thought of doing the same thing now, of destroying Castle Trinity and cleansing the mountainside. Grinning wickedly, the young priest fell into the song of Denier, searching for the powerful magic.
He found nothing to replicate the earthquake. Confused, Cadderly pressed the notes, mentally called for guidance.
Then he understood. His release of power on the other plane had been a reaction to primal emotions, not consciously conjured, but forced by events around him.
Cadderly laughed aloud, and opened his eyes to see all six of his companions standing around him, eyeing him curiously. T.
"What is it?" Danica asked.
"You were thinking of destroying the fortress," Dorigen reasoned.
"Aw, do it!" bellowed Ivan. "Split the ground and drop it in!"
"Oo oil"
Cadderly glanced around at his companions, those friends who believed him invincible, godlike. When his gaze fell over Shayleigh, though, he found the elf maiden slowly shaking her head. She understood.
As did Danica. "Split the ground and drop it in?" the monk asked Ivan incredulously. "If Cadderly can do such a feat, then why did we run about inside that cursed place?"
"We have come to expect too much," Shayleigh added.
"Oo." Pikel said it, but it aptly reflected Ivan's thoughts.
It was a good start, Cadderly decided. Ivan was taking the lead, was assuming some of the responsibility.
A good start on a long road.
Waves of agony rolled over Druzil when Aballister died, pains that only a familiar who had lost his wizard master could ever know. Unlike many familiars, Druzil managed to survive the assault, and when the agony had at last subsided, the imp limped his way down the trails of the eastern Snowflakes.
"Bene tellemara, Aballister," he grumbled under his breath, his litany against his mounting fears. It was easy enough for the intelligent imp to figure out who had brought Aballister down, and easy enough for him to figure that without the wizard, even if Castle Trinity had survived, his role in the plans of conquest had come to a sudden end. He thought briefly of going to the castle, to see if Dorigen had survived. He quickly dismissed the thought, reminding himself that Dorigen wasn't overly fond of him.
But where to go? Druzil wondered. Wizard masters were not so easy for renegade imps to find, nor were planar gates that might return Druzil to the smoky and dark lands where he truly belonged. Also, Druzil figured that his business on this plane was not quite finished, not with the precious chaos curse he'd concocted bottled up in the catacombs of the Edificant Library. Druzil wanted the bottle back, had to figure out a way to get it before that wretched Cadderly, if Cadderly was still alive, returned.
For now, though, the imp's needs were more immediate. He wanted to get out of the Snowflakes, wanted to get indoors and out of winter's chilly bite, and so he continued his course down from the high ground, down toward the town of Carradoon.
After several days, and several close calls with the wary farmers living on the edges of the wild mountains, Druzil, perched in the rafters of a barn, overheard what sounded like a promising situation. A hermit had taken up habitation in a remote shack not too far from the outer farmhouses, a solitary recluse with no friends and no family.
"No witnesses," the imp rasped, his poison-tipped tail flicking eagerly. As soon as the sun went down, Druzil flapped off for the shack, figuring to kill the hermit and take his home, and spend the cold winter feasting off the dead man's flesh.
How his plans changed when he looked upon the hermit, looked at the mark branded clearly on his forehead! Suddenly Druzil was more concerned with the possibilities of keeping this man alive. He thought again of the Edificant Library, and the powerful bottle of the chaos curse locked away in its catacombs. He thought again that he must possess it, and now, by some chance of fate, it seemed to Druzil as if his wish might come true.
Bent low under the burden of an armful of firewood, Kierkan Rufo plodded slowly, dejectedly, back to his ramshackle hut.