The Lost Castle (3 page)

Adalon headed toward the front, and a murmur ran through the assembly like wind through treetops. He ignored startled looks as he made his way past priests, soldiers and nobles. A heavy hand landed on his shoulder; he shrugged it off and heard an astonished hiss. His passage grew easier as those around stepped back, alarmed but not willing to interfere. Soon, he had reached the front rank of the assembly.

Adalon tapped a Billed One noble on the shoulder. She grunted and turned, which allowed Adalon a gap to squeeze through. The noble looked puzzled, then thoughtful, but before she could say anything, Adalon had passed.

He stood in front of the throne. He took a deep breath, lifted his head and met the gaze of Queen Tayesha.

'Hold,' she said to the guards. They had been surging toward Adalon, but at the Queen's words they stood aside, reluctantly.

The Queen studied Adalon with eyes like dark moons. She bared her teeth. 'In ten thousand years, no-one has interrupted the Ritual of Bonding.'

Adalon bowed. 'Your Majesty, I have no choice.'

'Who are you, youngling?'

'Adalon of the Eastern Peaks, Your Majesty. Lord Ollamon's son.'

'Ah. Lord Ollamon.' The Queen held up a claw. 'You are a loyal subject of mine, I hope, Adalon of the Eastern Peaks?'

'I am a loyal subject of Thraag, Your Majesty.'

Queen Tayesha frowned. 'You are like your father, Adalon, but you are young. Very young. Tread carefully, I advise you.'

'I am old enough to know my duty, Your Majesty.' He took a deep breath. 'Your Majesty, you cannot proceed with the ritual. You must leave the throne of Thraag.'

A chorus of gasps and expressions of shock came from the assembly. A dozen of the nearest saur rushed forward, tails swinging, claws grasping for the upstart.

'Hold,' Queen Tayesha said again. Although soft, her voice cut through the uproar. The saur stumbled to a halt, robes swirling, armour clashing. Adalon stood untouched and alone.

Queen Tayesha studied Adalon. He knew that his future was being weighed. 'There is much you do not understand, Adalon of the Eastern Peaks,' she said and then addressed the assembly. 'Let him go. He is touched by grief; he knows not what he does.'

Adalon stood firm, hoping against hope that he could dissuade the Queen from her plans. 'Your Majesty, you must not continue with the ritual. Your preparations for war against our friends in Callibeen show that you are not fit to rule.'

Uproar again. Shouts, shock and dismay, cries of 'No!' and 'Shame!' This time Adalon was seized from behind. He tore free and staggered toward the Queen.

Queen Tayesha held up a hand. Magic danced on her claws, harsh silver light, and the crowd hushed. 'Young Adalon has come into some news, it seems,' she said. 'I had thought to announce my plans after the ritual, but I shall tell you all now.'

She placed both hands on the rough arm rests and bowed her head for a moment. When she looked up her eyes were fierce, blazing with power. 'I have ruled this land for sixty years. Thraag has known plenty and safety.'

The assembly gave a subdued cheer, but Adalon saw puzzled expressions on the faces around him. The Ritual of Bonding had never gone this way before.

Queen Tayesha stabbed a claw at the assembly. 'But when I'm gone? Will there ever be such a time again?'

This time, the response was heartier. 'No!' roared the crowd.

She nodded. 'I have no heir, as you know. What can I do to ensure the future of Thraag?' She raised both hands and the glow of power shone on her claws. 'I will not let this bond be broken, this land grow ill and my saur suffer.'

Queen Tayesha stood. Light rippled on her hands, flaring on the tips of her claws, and Adalon had to shade his eyes against the bright silver fire. This was the power he'd dared to confront? He cursed himself for being a fool.

'There is a way to keep the bond,' the Queen said, 'to hold Thraag together. Ancient texts have told me that I can endure. I can endure and the bond can survive. Thraag can have a queen who never dies!'

Adalon's jaw dropped. It was worse than he'd thought.
She's gone mad.

Queen Tayesha stood tall, proud and beautiful, a ruler who held the power of the land and the adoration of her saur people. 'The texts have told me: if one saur can rule all seven kingdoms, Krangor can be united under a single, immortal ruler. All Krangor will be as one, the land bonded to one ruler. Thraag will dominate all!'

Adalon straightened. His voice rose over the assembly, clear and strong. 'I hear your words, Queen Tayesha. They sing a song of war, invasion and conquest. I hear death, and loss, and ruin. I see ordinary folk butchered and carrion eaters growing fat on fields of battle.'

Queen Tayesha's eyes locked on Adalon. 'You should have left, youngling.'

She held up a hand. The silver light around it swirled, took shape, and a hail of silver thorns flung themselves at Adalon.

Without thinking, he threw himself to one side then rolled to his feet in time to see the Queen shaking her head at him in sorrow more than anger. 'Farewell, youngling.'

Adalon stumbled, looked down, and saw the flagstones crumbling beneath his feet. Before he could move, a hole opened and the earth swallowed him.

The Needle was the tallest tower in the Gralloch Palace. At the top was a single room. In all the centuries the castle had seen, only the queens of Thraag had ever set foot inside this room. From it, the entire city of Challish could be seen. Further off, the rounded, ancient hills. Beyond them, the broad, rolling plains.

The small room was lined with bookshelves from floor to ceiling, only broken by the single door and four evenly spaced windows. A narrow desk stood in the middle, and here Queen Tayesha sat. She was writing in a large journal made from the finest paper from Shuff, the southernmost of the seven kingdoms of Thraag.

The poor, misguided youngling
, she wrote.
So young, and so awry. Could grief have driven him mad?

She sighed and put down the quill. She had been sitting still too long, recording her thoughts for the day. She needed to move, or her Clawed One energy would boil over.

While she paced she told herself that it was important to keep her journal faithfully. It would matter, centuries from now, when she wanted to reflect on how she had achieved her eternal life.

She glanced at the books on the walls. Some were rich, others battered and water-stained, others fire-blackened. A multitude of sizes and colours, most had been fetched here at the Queen's orders by agents across the seven kingdoms. General Wargrach had presented her with a number of the most important, most useful texts. He declined to tell her where he had found them and she reminded herself to insist that he tell her, one day.

The books had provided what she had sought for decades – the secret to immortality. Bringing all seven kingdoms under her rule was the way.

Queen Tayesha sat at her desk again and wrote.
Seven kingdoms united under one ruler. What could be more proper, more natural?

She paused for a moment and sighed. Ruling all seven kingdoms would not be an easy task, but she was willing to do it, for the good of all the saur in Krangor. One ruler to guide them and look after them. No more jealousies between kingdoms or petty wars over borders. It was a great and noble goal, but one with much heartache and travail ahead.

For a moment she hung her head. Then she took a deep breath and wrote:
I will do whatever it takes to ensure the future of the saur. Only I can ensure this, so I must press ahead.

A tap came from the door. Queen Tayesha stilled her impulse to spring to her feet and leap to confront whoever was disturbing her. 'Yes?' she said eventually.

The door opened. 'Your Majesty?' Standing there was Lady Sillian, one of her ladies-in-waiting. A flighty Crested One, her hands fluttered in front of her. 'It . . . it's General Wargrach. He wishes to see you.'

Queen Tayesha grimaced. Wargrach had been growing too pleased with himself lately. He was certainly useful, but he would bear watching. 'Tell
him to meet me in the Morning Room.'

'Yes, Your Majesty.'

Queen Tayesha listened to the scuttling sound of Lady Sillian's claws descending the stone staircase before she picked up the quill again.

Great deeds require great sacrifices
, she wrote. Satisfied with this, she wrote it again.
Great deeds require great sacrifices.

* * *

General Wargrach struggled to conceal a snarl. He'd been ushered into the Morning Room, a parlour with windows overlooking the palace gardens. It was furnished with well-stuffed chairs and sofas from which guests could contemplate the carefully maintained greenery and flowers.

General Wargrach hated chairs. They were a sign of softness, of all that was wrong with the world. He preferred to use his bulky tail to prop himself where he stood.

Years on the parade ground and the battlefield had hardened the General's muscles and he could remain upright like that for hours, always ready to launch forward and attack. Not like the namby-pamby saur he saw around him everywhere in the capital. It sickened him to see the way the saur had become so meek, so comfortable, so
gentle.

He glared at the chairs and propped himself in the corner of the room, facing away from the view of the gardens. He crossed his arms over his chest and waited. He was a model of patience.

It was patience that had brought Wargrach this far – patience and ambition. He remembered his earliest days in the gutters of Challish, when he had fought and schemed his way upwards. First leading gangs of orphan thugs who roamed the streets, thieving and threatening, then into the Army, where he could use his brutality in the service of Thraag. As he worked his way up, there were those who thought he was a typical Toothed One – brave, strong, but more than a little stupid.

Wargrach chuckled. Most of the saur who had thought him stupid were now dead.

As he rose through the ranks, he endured the thousand slights and insults that any low-born saur had to endure. He bore them – but never forgot them.

Now that he had achieved power and position, he was able to take his revenge. Against Lord High and Mighty Ollamon, for instance.

Wargrach seethed as he remembered Lord Ollamon visiting Challish forty summers ago. The young lord probably didn't see the corporal he accidentally knocked into the mud when he cantered up to the palace on his riding beast. Oblivious, Ollamon had rushed inside to the Ritual of Bonding and left the mud-bespattered Wargrach to suffer the laughter of the troops.

Wargrach never forgot this humiliation. It burned for years before he was able to do anything about it.

He smiled a little as he recalled how he'd slipped the dagger between Lord Ollamon's ribs, piercing his heart, within sight of his own castle. Very, very satisfying.

Now, with that weakling Moralon quivering in fear, the entire east of Thraag belonged to Wargrach. Every lord, every puny baron, owed him allegiance and was controlled by him. He now had power and riches he'd only ever dreamed of as a street urchin.

If he continued to manage the Queen properly, he was going to have power for a long, long time.

Lady Sillian appeared at the doorway. She put a hand to her mouth, flustered. 'Oh, General Wargrach.'

Wargrach stared at her and said nothing.

Lady Sillian's hands fluttered. 'Her Majesty is here, General.'

She withdrew and Queen Tayesha swept into the room.

Wargrach stood and bowed. 'Majesty.'

'You wanted to see me, General?'

Wargrach nodded and thought carefully before replying. Handling the Queen was a tricky matter, and he needed all his craftiness.

'Forces are at work, Your Majesty. Forces who would deny you your destiny.'

Queen Tayesha hissed and swung her tail from side to side. 'More? I thought you had rooted out the last of them.'

'They are more powerful than we thought, Your Majesty. I will need more troops, more gold to crush them.'

Queen Tayesha pointed a sharp claw at Wargrach. 'You are trustworthy, are you not, Wargrach?'

Wargrach was immediately alert. He was convinced that Queen Tayesha was mad, but he knew she was far from stupid.

'I am, Your Majesty. Everything I do is to support your aims.'

'That's because your aims and mine happen to fit well together.'

Wargrach tightened his jaws.

Queen Tayesha nodded. 'Don't worry, Wargrach. I'm sure we can keep working together. You help me gain control of all Krangor, and you will have riches beyond your wildest dreams.'

Wargrach bowed again. 'Your Majesty.'

'Now, General. Make sure you put down any hint of rebellion. We must tolerate no resistance in Thraag, no dissent. No matter how pitiful.'

Wargrach bared his teeth. 'Lord Ollamon's son?'

'He's in the dungeons.' She paused, took a deep breath. 'His own words have condemned him. Young though he may be, he is a traitor.'

Wargrach nodded. 'I will see to it that he will not be one for much longer.'

Wake up, Adalon, we must flee!'

Even though he was still groggy, Adalon knew that voice. He opened his eyes. 'Simangee,' he croaked. He turned his head a little to see the other figure standing over him. 'Targesh.'

Targesh nodded and his horns bobbed in the dim light that entered through a small, barred window behind him. He reached down and helped Adalon to his feet. Simangee took his arm. 'We must go now.'

The cell spun around him, and Adalon clung to Targesh's broad shoulders. 'Where have you been?'

'We thought you might try something brave and stupid,' Simangee said. 'So instead of joining you,
we readied ourselves for a rescue.'

'Rescue? What happened?'

Simangee grimaced as if she had tasted something nasty. 'It's the talk of Challish. The Queen used her power and the land swallowed you. You could have been entombed forever, but she put you here, saying she pitied you.'

'Stinking place,' Targesh rumbled. He kicked at a damp and moss-covered wall.

Simangee nodded. 'I think you would have rotted down here if not for Targesh. He found a dungeon keeper who had served under your father. He was willing to help. Your father inspired loyalty.'

Adalon's heart ached.
Oh Father, what have I done?

'Here.' Targesh threw a bundle at Adalon. He amazed himself when he caught it.

'A cloak,' he mumbled.

'The guards stole your finery and your ceremonial weapons. We organised riding beasts, and some more equipment,' Simangee said. 'Come. Now.'

Adalon struggled with the cloak. As he did, his head began to clear. He remembered confronting the Queen. He remembered the blaze of power in her eyes. He remembered falling – but that was all.

'Wait,' he said. 'Where are we going? Back to the Eastern Peaks?'

Targesh glanced at Simangee. 'You can't,' she said. 'The Queen has stripped you of any claim to your land, your money and your title, in preparation for your execution.'

Adalon stared at his friends. He felt as if the world had suddenly turned to smoke and was vanishing through his claws. 'All gone?'

'Gone,' Targesh said.

Adalon rubbed his head. 'I must flee.'

Simangee grinned. 'You don't think you're going alone, do you? Targesh and I are going with you.'

'You can't give up your whole life like this. I'm going to be an exile, an outlaw!'

'We're your friends, Adalon,' Simangee said. 'We'll stand by you.'

'Loyalty,' Targesh said and he touched his nose horn. '
Life is loyalty
. So says the Way of the Horn.'

Adalon could not speak.
What have I done to deserve this?
he wondered.
They're throwing away their family, their homes, their prospects, all for me
.

Simangee looked at him. 'It's not just for you, Adalon. You're not alone in opposing the Queen. There are many who feel she has gone too far.'

Adalon pulled the battered cloak around his shoulders. 'You're reading minds now, Simangee?'

'Your face is as easy to read as a book, Adalon.'

He frowned. 'The Queen needs to be stopped.'

'First of all, we must escape,' Simangee said. 'Once we're safe, we can decide what to do about the Queen.'

'We must do something,' Adalon said, softly.

'Aye,' Targesh said. He seemed to search for words. 'It's not right.'

'We are young, but we are strong,' Simangee said. 'We'll gather others around us, rally saur to the cause.'

'But where? I'll be hunted once it's discovered I'm gone. Where can we be safe?'

'Did you think I went to the Great Library on a whim?' Simangee said. 'Hoolgar's hints led me to find a lost book, and it speaks of a hidden place. A place for us to hide.'

Adalon nodded. Locked in a dungeon, he could do nothing. Escape. Hide. Plan. Then Queen Tayesha would regret what she had done.

* * *

General Wargrach stood to attention in the Morning Room. He ground his teeth and looked straight ahead.

The Queen was berating him.

'You said you would ensure the safety of me and my realm, Wargrach!'

Queen Tayesha's eyes were flashing as she paced up and down in front of Wargrach. Her movements were quick and jerky, and her tail whipped from side to side. Breath hissed through her teeth.

'Yes, Majesty.'

'But a youngling has defied me and now escaped.'

'Not for long, Your Majesty.'

'I showed him mercy, and he has treated my kindness with contempt.'

Wargrach shifted where he stood. 'Allow me, Majesty. I'll take a patrol and find this traitor. He'll wish he'd never been born.'

'What about the campaign to take Virriftinar? You should be there.'

'It's well under control. When I left, our troops had surrounded Aimon, their pitiful capital. It has probably fallen by now.'

'Good. And then?'

'To further Your Majesty's plans, I have positioned a division on the Rislim River between Virriftinar and Bondorborar. They will move north as soon as Virriftinar is ours, and their push will be reinforced by the excess battalions from Aimon.'

'And Knobblond? What about it?'

'Knobblond has its special challenges. We will subdue the other kingdoms on the west of the Skyhorn Ranges before moving on Knobblond. All this, of course, while we prepare to move on Callibeen.'

'This is satisfactory.' Queen Tayesha jerked her head in dismissal. 'Go, Wargrach. Do your duty.'

'It will be a pleasure, Majesty.'