Empire Awakening (Maledorian Chronicles Book 2) Read online

  Copyright © 2018 by John Forrester

  All right reserved. Published by Amber Muse.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system.

  ISBN-13: 978-1984381200

  ISBN-10: 1984381202

  Cover Design by Damonza

  Contents

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  CHAPTER FORTY

  CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

  CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

  EPILOGUE

  CHAPTER ONE

  The land here was pure and renewed by nature’s kiss, so unlike the dark stain they’d left behind. Still, Elendria felt the shadow lingering. The grass was green and luxuriant, and colorful swaths of purple, yellow, and orange wildflowers adorned the hilly landscape.

  She hadn’t spent much time out here in the northern foothills. Only a few rides out with Master Henrik and a long hike last fall with a group of other girls, who were sent to collect acorns, leaves, and mushrooms as part of a science project. Those visits were one of the reasons her curiosity was piqued to return to the foothills and perhaps one day venture to the Great Barrier Mountains.

  When she saw the expansive beauty of the grassy fields, her mind ventured back to her childhood and the times she spent with her father out in the lush meadows and ancient forests of Maren Downs. It was a cruel thing for her to know he was the murderer of those boys and a fanatical worshipper of a dark god. She still couldn’t believe her parents had disowned her. She knew she’d see him again someday, but that knowledge only frightened her and filled her with a sense of dread. He’d made it clear he was her enemy.

  For now, she’d do her best to avoid thoughts of him and find a small space, some solitude, amongst the roughly hewn landscape of the north. She needed time to think, to reflect, to understand her place in the world and come to grips with Baird’s death and Remi’s possession.

  “How long until we get there?” Maggie’s pretty voice broke the silence.

  Elendria smiled at her sleepy face and soft, curious eyes.

  The girl continued, “It’s such a big place, so open and wild. Never been far from Criswall. Spent most of my life livin’ in those dirty streets… There’s a whole wide world out here, so colorful and green. The sky’s so big. Just look at those mountains. They’re like huge, angry fingers reachin’ for the sky. Will we go all the way up there? It looks so dark and dangerous, like the lair of the devil.”

  Elendria ruffled her hair and grinned. In her studies of cartography, she’d had to reproduce many maps of the world. She knew the voyage up to the Great Barrier Mountains would likely take them at least a week, if they were able to travel at least twenty miles each day on horseback. Though, from the steep incline and winding roads to reach Damak, the last village before the mountains proper, the journey might take them even longer. If her memory served her correctly, there were several other villages along the way to Damak. She glanced at Master Henrik. For some reason, a strange paleness seemed to have come over him. Was he ill?

  “How far until we reach Wilhem?” she said, her voice hesitant as she observed a tension overtake his expression.

  “Curses, child. Why are ya pressing me?” Master Henrik gave her a pained scowl. “Any faster and we’re likely to injure the horses.”

  Elendria was taken aback. What had gotten into him? “I meant nothing by the comment. Merely a curiosity—”

  “If you insist on knowing. Gods, child.” He sighed, trying to master his composure. “I’d say we should reach the village before nightfall, though it may be dark by the time we have the horses fed and put up for the night. Assuming bandits don’t assault us before then.”

  “Heavens, I hope not,” said Lysha, glancing at Elendria. “What will we do after that?”

  “Again, with all the questions? What do I know? Ask the witch. She’s the one with the plan.” Master Henrik gave a thick cough and beat at his chest as if trying to knock something loose. After a fury of snorting and sucking in snot, he finally spat out the offensive wad and clucked in satisfaction. “My apologies. Goodness, I’m afraid I’ve come down with something. It seems I’m not feeling too well. Perhaps the fatigue of being up all night is catching up with me.”

  He stared north, swatting away a cloud of flies.

  Elendria narrowed her eyes at him. Why was he so irritable? “Are you okay? You seem tense. Why don’t we rest now for a while? Take a nap and catch up on some sleep. We’re far enough away from Criswall. I doubt we’re in danger out here.”

  “Tense?” His voice was sharp, but he caught himself from retorting. As if trying to decipher their next course of action, he glanced around and finally nodded in the direction of a stand of trees nestled alongside a stream. “A quick nap to invigorate me. Maybe that’ll do the trick.”

  Madam Lassengre frowned. Elendria wasn’t sure if it was because of the interruption to their journey north or because of the stable master’s sudden illness. Either way, she followed after the man, urging her mare on.

  They soon reached the bubbling stream. The sorceress and Master Henrik dismounted and led the horses to the rich, green grass. The stable master staggered over to the shade of a tree and sat, releasing a tired sigh.

  “A thirty-minute nap and I’ll be right as a summer’s breeze.” He looked at her with heavy-lidded eyes. “Wake me, will you? We must keep time.” He leaned back and curled up on the pine needle floor, his voice soft and slow. “Make it to Wilhem before dark. Might be bandits about…”

  Soon he was asleep. She wrapped a cloak around him, hoping the nap would help him recover. She glanced back at Madam Lassengre. “Is there anything you can do for him?”

  “What does it look like? I already have. See how easily he slumbers.” She shook her head at the man. “Though I’m not a healer, I can clearly see your friend is afflicted, I’m afraid. Sometimes, exhaustion and extreme stress weaken people’s resistance to disease, especially one who’s up in their years as your Master Henrik. I do worry if he’s able to lead us on the journey into the mountains. The way will be difficult and dangerous. I doubt his capability.”

  “I’ve known Master Henrik for most of my life,” Elendria said and tilted her head. “I’d trust him with anything.” And honestly, she felt safer knowing he was with her. His presence provided a calming effect, like a piece of
her old life from Maren Downs—always with her. She didn’t know what she’d do if he were gone.

  “I hope you are right, child.” The old witch leaned against an oak tree and sat in silent meditation.

  Elendria reclined on the bed of needles and enjoyed the expansive view. The wind whipped the grass in a hypnotic rhythm. Her eyes grew heavy gazing at the field. Maggie and Lysha settled down next to her, their eyes soon closing. After a long, quiet moment, she succumbed to sleep along with the others.

  *

  In a cold fright, she woke from the horror of seeing the Duke of Wrainton’s gleeful face as he watched Ba’al being summoned into Remi’s body. She shook her head and sighed, wishing the nightmares would go away. She squinted as the world came into focus. The last remnants of sunlight beamed over the western horizon, illuminating the sky in an orange hue the color of a ripe pumpkin.

  Had they slept so many hours? She stretched her arms and let out a long yawn and, in the process, managed to wake Maggie. Her bright, blue eyes sparkled as she stared out over the tumbling hills covered in a blanket of thick, bushy grass swaying and swirling under the stiff breeze.

  “It’s alive, like some wild creature stirring.” Her eyes were wide with wonder.

  Lysha stretched at hearing Maggie’s bright, lyrical voice. Instead of alarm in her eyes, her relaxed face seemed calmed by the country air. A flood of fragrant scents invigorated Elendria in an instant. The breeze brought in hints of honey and grass, sage and pine. She glanced over at the mottled beginnings of a coniferous forest sweeping up at the edge of the hills.

  Elendria spied Madam Lassengre stuffing herbs into a steaming cup. “Are we far from Wilhem?”

  “Hours, I suspect. Though it’s doubtful that we’ll make it there in a reasonable time.” The old woman glanced at the still slumbering stable master. “And in his condition, who knows. I’ve made him some tea to help bring down the fever. He’s been sleeping all afternoon fitfully. I’m afraid your friend is very ill.”

  “Then he’s in no condition to travel? What are we going to do?”

  “I’m afraid not, dear. I worry about his condition worsening. We will be in poor shape ourselves if we remain out here in the wild. We might have to leave him here.”

  “It’s out of the question,” Elendria said. “How could you even suggest such a thing?”

  The sorceress sniffed the wind and wrinkled up her nose as if discovering some strange secret. “I do and say what I must. One man’s life is not worth the loss of our own. And besides, the wind tells me to press on tonight, no matter what.”

  “Why can’t we lay Master Henrik over his horse and ride all night?”

  “A dangerous proposition, my dear.” Madam Lassengre scowled. “That will slow us down, and it’ll be far past dark by the time we get there. I’m worried as the road is rocky and treacherous. Light is fading. It’s dangerous out here. Sometimes, the wolves roam around here in packs at night, and there are often thieves out as well.”

  “But we’re not defenseless, are we?” Elendria gave the sorceress a significant look. “And I can ride up front and cast a spell of light to guide our way.”

  The woman gave an amused tsk. “Don’t be overconfident in your abilities. We are entering the northlands. There are powerful creatures with magical abilities. You are still weak in power and limited in knowledge.”

  “I can do something, though. And I won’t leave Master Henrik out here to die. I refuse it.”

  “Are we riding now?” said Maggie, her voice scared. “He doesn’t look well. I’ve seen the fever strike folks, and it’s got him good.”

  “We’ve no choice, Maggie.” Elendria shrugged. “We can’t stay out here all night in the open.”

  “But we could camp, couldn’t we? Do we have to press on to Wilhem?” Lysha’s forehead crinkled in concern. “Maybe a night’s rest will help him recover.”

  “I doubt it, child. Another night out here might get us all killed. Do you think the cultists won’t pursue us? We’re still in danger,” the old woman said, frowning. She bent down next to Master Henrik and lifted his head, giving him a bit of the tea. “You might have to fend for yourself, stable master.”

  Elendria gave the sorceress a hard look.

  Finally, the old woman sighed. “As you wish, Lady Elendria. We’ll haul the stable master over his horse. But don’t blame me if he slows us down—or if he dies along the way.”

  Madam Lassengre stretched out her fingers and cast a spell, lifting Master Henrik and guiding him until his body flopped over the saddle. “I’ll keep an eye out for him and ensure he stays put. It’s your job to keep the light strong as we ride. Deal?”

  Elendria grinned. “Deal. Thank you. I won’t forget your act of kindness.”

  The sorceress grunted, but Elendria thought she spied a hint of a smile on the old woman’s face.

  Maggie skipped past Lysha and clambered up the horse so fast she was grinning by the time Lysha got there. The girl seemed to have overcome her initial hesitation to horses. Her eyes went wide in awe as Elendria summoned the spell of light—the small girl’s mouth making a round O of surprise. Elendria pushed the scintillating ball out in front of the horses about twenty feet, illuminating the rocky road in a golden hue. The horses whinnied in concern but calmed when she said a few soothing words.

  “Hide your magic when we get to the outskirts of Wilhem,” the sorceress said, her voice low and warning. “They don’t take kindly to magicians. They’re simple, suspicious farm folk. You’d do well to keep quiet and avoid drawing attention to yourself. Let me do the talking when we get there. We’re likely to find many frightened folks, as undoubtedly they’ve encountered the people who fled Criswall last night. And we might not have any luck finding a room.”

  “Remember, our priority is to get Master Henrik to a healer.” Elendria studied the sorceress. “You will help?”

  “I will offer whatever services I can, though no promises.” Some flash of insight came to the old woman. “Though I have an idea of who might be able to help.”

  Snapping her fingers again, the sorceress cast a spell and caused the leather strap to move on its own, tying her horse to Master Henrik’s. Elendria tugged the reins, and her horse trotted forward, leading the stable master’s stallion. The ball of light wavered and flickered at Elendria’s lapse in concentration, earning her a scowl from the old woman.

  Up ahead, the pine trees thickened, and as the road entered the forest, the natural light faded into shadow. Thankfully, the way was illuminated by the golden orb hovering several feet off the ground. She’d practiced moving the spell of light around in her idle hours behind the baker’s shop and felt proud of her magical control. She could make it bigger and brighter if she wanted or shrink it down to the size of a mouse and light up small spaces.

  After many hours of riding, they trotted over a ridge and spied the outskirts of a small village. The rustic place was bathed in the soft light of lanterns flickering under the erratic wind. She wrapped the cloak tightly around her neck and allowed the spell to fade until the darkness enshrouded them like a covered grave.

  When they were a few hundred feet from the village, the sorceress raised her hand. She guided them over to a small house nestled under a knoll and brought her horse to a stop, dismounting.

  “The home of the healer, Crahn. He’ll see to your friend’s fever.” She rapped on the door, impatiently running her hand along the wood. “Though, I doubt if there is a chance of recovery.”

  “Who’s that bangin’ down my door?” grumbled a man’s ornery voice.

  “Open up, Crahn. We have a sick man for you to heal. You know who I am.”

  The old door creaked open, and a wrinkled man with bushy eyebrows scowled at the sorceress. “You again, witch? Last time ya nearly roasted my house. It’s hard to heal a man with a magical fire lodged in his belly. The poor fool almost burned up.”

  “Shut your mouth, or I’ll turn you into a toad.” The sorceress shook her
head at the man. “Hurry up; we’ve no time to waste.”

  “No need to get into such a tempestuous mood, now.” He glanced at Master Henrik. “Who’s this? The ol’ sick bugger?” His beak nose wriggled and sniffed several times. “Got the fever, he does, and ya came none too soon. Another hour or so and he’d be a goner, he would. I’m still not sure if I can save ‘em or not.”

  The sorceress scowled at the healer. “What is it you want, you bastard?”

  Elendria gaped at the man, suddenly furious. “How dare you! I can’t believe you’re negotiating at a time like this. He’s dying.”

  “Oh, he means that much to ya, does he?” A greedy smile came over the healer’s face. “That changes things substantially.”

  The man was a pig. Elendria wanted to slap him so badly she had to bunch up her hands.

  “I asked you a question,” Madam Lassengre said, her voice threatening. “What is it that you want?”

  “Well, now, since you’re asking so succinctly.” Crahn spread his arms out wide. “The last payment you made was insufficient. I require something more substantial this time.”

  “Spit it out, already, or I mean it; I will turn you into a toad.”

  The healer sneered at her. “You couldn’t even if you wanted. Go ahead. Try it, witch. I’m not defenseless.”

  The sorceress put her hands on her hips and shook her head in exasperation.

  “A lock of the girl’s hair. That’s the payment I require.”

  “Out of the question. Who knows what fiendish spell you have waiting for her. You perverted, demented—”

  “I’ll do it.” Elendria held out a clump of her hair to the healer. “Just shut up and save his life for love of all that is good.”

  A look of twisted delight overcame the old healer as he studied her hair. Quick as a flash, he withdrew a pocket knife and sliced off a thick chunk of hair. Elendria felt sick to her stomach at how the man was looking at her. She wanted away from the lecherous man but knew she had no choice but to stay here and make sure he helped Master Henrik.

  “Hurry up, you fool.” Madam Lassengre jutted her chin at the stable master. The sorceress cast another spell, and the man floated off his horse and into the healer’s open door. Inside, the soft glow of firelight washed his body in flickering shadows and dancing light. The sorceress followed, guiding him further inside. Lysha and Elendria stalked in after her in time to see Crahn thrusting his hands on his hips, lips pursed.