Power of the Dark Lord, Chapter 19 Copyright 2010 by Bert McKenzie
CHAPTER XIX
Scott had a definite queasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. He realized that if there was any prejudice existing in Tuatha it was against humans. He also felt that if any group in the land held such conservative, prejudicial views, it was the Tuathan high council. And now he waited outside the king's entrance to be summoned before this very council. As consort to the king, Scott had the unenviable task of serving in his absence. No one knew what had become of Robin, so now Scott had to give a report to the council on the status of the land. Melcot tried to bolster his courage and confidence by telling him to think and act like the king of the land. In effect this was his current position and if he would remember this, the council could not intimidate him. After all, they were his subjects and essentially under his command. But this was all hypothetical and did little to help him feel better about the actual situation.
Finally the summons came and Scott walked calmly into the council chambers. He ignored his inner feelings and walked directly to the ornate chair where only the night before Robin had been sitting. The council members were all standing at their places as he walked in, and they eyed him curiously. Scott had seen Robin in such meetings many times before when they were not closed sessions, so he did the same thing he had watched his lover do in the past. He nodded to Lorfana, head of the council, and then sat down in the king's chair. Shock and surprise registered itself on several faces, and even some amusement on others. The council members did not expect this. They thought Scott would stand before them as did anyone else but royalty. His action put them in their places and reminded them that as consort he was accorded the privileges of royalty while serving in the king's stead. This angered the members who really felt resentment at his humanity, but no one said anything as the council members took their seats.
Scott began his report by telling of the battle of the night before and the death of those who had tried to defend the guard house and control the wheel to the bridge. He told of Rood's eventual capture and his current status as well as of the outcome of the battle, the rout of the trolls thanks in part to the sudden and magical appearance of the van from the human world. That morning the wall had been destroyed due to the magical explosives operated by Stan. There was now no sign of the trolls, but the coming night would show if they would return. Akuta was working with the army to harvest flashweed to use as a weapon. Before dusk the men would fill the troll caves with as much of the highly combustible vegetation as possible and then ignite it. Stan offered to add any left over explosives to the flashweed to make underground bombs. The troll menace seemed to be under control for the time being.
The next item to report concerned the missing monarch. Tears came to his eyes as Scott described again what he had seen. A thorough search of the palace and surrounding area had been conducted, but turned up nothing. It was obvious that Robin had been abducted by evil magic. This coupled with what had been done to Rood and the unusual or at least uncharacteristic nature of the trolls' siege pointed to one conclusion. There was a hidden agenda here that was being engineered by evil sorcery. Lastel thought that this was an attempt at revenge by the inhabitants of the dark world. After all, it was Robin and Scott who defeated Melusine, the evil sorceress just a few months back. Most everyone agreed, but no one had any suggestions.
Scott finally spoke up. "My lords and ladies," he began. "You all feel that the king has been taken by an inhabitant of the dark world, and you fear that he will suffer the same fate as his father, to disappear into that evil land and never be heard from again. I agree that this may indeed be what happened to him, but I promise you he'll return. I shall personally journey to the Eldritch Mountains in the north and rescue him."
"You cannot, young lord," Lorfana said. "You have no knowledge of where to begin looking, or how to go about a rescue against such powers of evil. It is suicidal folly."
"Let him do this," Lastel said. "If he succeeds we shall have our king back. If he fails we are no worse than now."
"But this is the king's consort," Hyller argued. The wood elf seemed quite upset by Lastel's comments. "If we lose our lord Scott, we have no one to rule."
"You would welcome the rule of a human?" Lastel asked sarcastically.
"Hold your tongue," Lorfana said angrily. She appeared old and feeble, in fact older than anyone Scott had ever seen in Tuatha. Yet she still was able to command respect from her fellow council members. "My lord," she said to Scott. "I would dissuade you from this course of action, if only for your own safety."
"Thank you for your concern, my lady," he answered her as he stood. "But I have to do this. I must follow my heart."
She stood and bowed to the young man before her. "We honor you and the service you do for us. Good fortune, my lord." Scott turned and left the chambers.
"It is as the old healer said," Caseldra told Sharon as the two of them scanned several books in the library. "It clearly says that the only end to the burning blood is death."
"Read it again," Sharon asked.
The little fairy again looked into the book. "If ye would recover from the burning blood, ye must suffer death.
"That's impossible. You can't recover by dying."
"But you can," Caseldra argued. "Death is not the end. When you die your spirit simply waits for a time in the western islands before returning to a new life."
"Returning to a new life? You mean rebirth?"
"Yes," Caseldra smiled. "The spirit lives on as a new being. We have all passed through this world before."
"You're talking about reincarnation," Sharon said in disgust. "Even if it were true, which I doubt, that doesn't help Rood. He'd still be dead and gone."
"But his spirit will be free to complete its journey."
"I'm trying to save a life and you're giving me new age religion. Read from that one on black magic." Sharon indicated a book they had found that dealt not with medicine but with magical spells.
Caseldra flipped through the book. "Here is the recipe for making the poison used in the burning blood spell," she said. "Ground bone of a human must first be mixed with a fairy's blood. One kretcha fish is slowly baked over an open flame until..."
"What's a kretcha fish?" Sharon asked.
"A fish that swims in the western seas. It is very dangerous, full of poison that can instantly kill a man."
"What does it look like?"
"That is its danger. It looks like a rock and can be accidentally stepped upon in the shallow waters. The poison is carried..."
"It's located in sharp spines along its back," Sharon finished. "We have a similar species in our world." She thought for a moment, and then suddenly sat up in excitement. "Tetrodotaxin!" she shouted.
"What?" Caseldra asked. She could tell that the woman seemed to know something.
"It's a main component in the zombie drug used by voodoo cults. A powerful anesthetic, it induces a coma that is almost impossible to tell from death. The victim then recovers about twelve hours later, only in the voodoo beliefs they say the victim no longer has a soul and is controlled by the one who has taken it."
"That is exactly the same!" Caseldra said excitedly. "What is the cure?"
"There isn't one," Sharon said. "The drug wears off and the victim is back to normal."
"But what about the taking of the soul?" the fairy asked.
"That part's just superstition."
"Then it helps us not," Caseldra admitted in disappointment.
Sharon looked at the runes covering the page of the musty old book in front of her. "But it's got to be the same," she said. "He only was controlled by the spell because he believed in it."
"No," Caseldra corrected her. "You saw his eyes. It explains it here." She read from the volume. "The burning blood contains the will of the master. When it enters the physical mind it wipes out the thoughts of the host and replaces them with the will."
"Like a computer virus that replaces a resident program by over-writing it," Sharon mused. "What happens when the host has completed this will?"
"When the will is satisfied the burning blood dies leaving behind the empty, mindless body to die," Caseldra read.
"When the virus program is erased you have an empty computer," Sharon said, completing the analogy.
"And is there no way to revive this computer of which you speak?" Caseldra asked.
"Sure, you kill the power and then turn it on again, letting it reboot."
"So Rood must die as the book said," the fairy concluded. "It is too bad that he cannot be turned on again to reboot."
Sharon froze in silence for a moment. She then grabbed Caseldra by the shoulders. "Why can't he? Why can't we turn him off and back on again? You're brilliant!" she cried. "All this time Jennifer and Rowana have been keeping Rood alive by forcing him to breath. But I keep forgetting that you aren't human."
"I understand you not."
"If a human stops breathing there is brain damage in a very short time because of a lack of oxygen. But your blood chemistry is different. When we studied it, it seemed to carry such small amounts of oxygen in comparison to human blood that I think there would be quite a while before you suffered any brain damage."
"What mean you by all this?"
Sharon jumped up, grabbing Caseldra's hand and pulling her out of the room. "Rood is going to die, just like the book says he must. We're going to turn him off like a computer in order to 'reset' him."
They ran to the patient's room. There was no change in the body. Rowana carefully pumped air into the lungs and then released it again, keeping him alive. "You can stop," Sharon said and took the homemade respirator from the red head. She carefully removed the tube and waited.
Rood continued to breathe on his own for another minute, then stopped. Sharon felt for a pulse and detected a weak and sporadic one. It grew slower, and then gave out as well. "He's dead," the doctor said as she opened one of the man's eyes and looked at the dilated pupil.
"Oh no," Rowana cried. "Why stopped you me from causing him to breathe?" She turned and hugged Jennifer.
"Now what will you do?" the dark haired, little fairy asked as she stood and watched. "Will he recover on his own?"
Sharon waited another minute, then again pressed her ear to Rood's chest. "Maybe I made a mistake," she said. Then she clasped her hands together, swung her arms and struck the body hard on the chest. There was no reaction, so she swung again and again struck the body with a resounding thud.
"Why hit him?" Rowana cried in alarm. "He is gone."
As she said this, Sharon prepared to strike again. Just as she raised her hands the body on the platform jerked with a muscle spasm then relaxed. The mouth dropped open and the lungs sucked in a rasping gasp. Sharon felt the wrist and detected a strong, rhythmic pulse. She placed her ear on Rood's chest just to assure herself of the steady pounding of his heart. She felt a slight tug and realized he was attempting to squeeze her hand. Sharon stood up and looked into the now open eyes. There was intelligence there behind the intense blue color surrounding the normal looking pupils. The corners of the mouth twitched as if trying to smile.
"Can you understand me?" Sharon asked slowly. Rood tried to move his lips. "Just relax. You'll be fine."
He managed a soft word. "Water."
"I shall fetch some," Caseldra volunteered as Rowana and Jennifer both broke into tears.
"Just a sip now and then," Sharon said, and then gave her patient's hand a reassuring squeeze.
"Thank you for this gift of life," Rowana said and stepped around the platform to give Sharon a hug.
Robin opened his eyes and looked around him. His last memory was of being surrounded by darkness. He tried to strike out at the creature, but there was nothing tangible, only blackness and a bitter cold. He then knew no more until now. As he looked around he appeared to be in a rocky cave. There was a torch on the wall that burned with an oily, yellow flame. It threw long, dancing shadows around the small vault. There was only one entrance, a small hole in the wall opposite him. Robin stood, and only then realized that he was chained to the wall behind him. The links of the chain showed no lock or opening, giving the impression that they had been forged around him, which he felt was impossible.
"Welcome, Robin King," a voice said. One of the shadows on the wall was not moving with the others. Robin looked up to see the green, glowing eyes gazing back at him.
"Where am I?" the king asked.
"Mine this place home has been many years since. Like it thou? No need have I for flame. This but consideration for thee have made." The creature indicated the torch. "Even eyes thine so sensitive see not in this place."
"Who are you?"
"Who thou are?" came the response. "King? High king of all land?"
"Yes," Robin answered proudly.
"Wrong. Prisoner mine be thou. Command I the high king. Makes me king of the high king. I be high king of all land."
"Saying this is not what makes it so," Robin countered. "I may be your prisoner, but that makes you not the king of Tuatha."
"Think I no mind have? Thou child! Thou usurper!" the black creature raged. "Power have thee and title too, but right have thee not. Stewards govern until returns the king."
"Yes, stewards governed the land until I became the king," Robin said, trying to follow the archaic cadence of the high Tuathan.
"No! Planned for was this. Stewards govern until returns the king, the king true. No child. No usurper."
"My father was Oberon the Stalwart. He was the high king. Therefore I am the true king," Robin answered.
"And what of thy father?"
"He died in the dark world."
"No! Lives thy father," the shadow said. "As long as lives thy father, usurper, imposter are thou."
"I know you are from the dark world. Tell you the truth? My father indeed lives?" Robin asked, straining against the chains.
"Yes. From dark world came I. Lives thy father. High king of all Tuatha be he. High king of all Tuatha be I."
"Wait," Robin said. A cold chill began to creep into the pit of his stomach. "How know you my father lives?" The shadow creature was silent and still. It might have been no more than a real shadow, it was so quiet. But the green fire of the eyes continued to glare silently. Robin summoned his courage and called loudly in the dark chamber, making the walls reverberate with the power of command in his voice. "How know you my father?"
"Your father I be," the voice answered hollowly.
"Where go we?" Dave asked. He was finally beginning to pick up bits and pieces of the language from these two strange boys. He thought of them as boys, but it was only because of their stature. He really couldn't tell their ages. For all he knew they might be some unknown race of Amer-Indian pygmies. He was actually pretty sure that this was impossible because he was pretty sure he wasn't on earth. The stars in the night sky were not quite right. There was a similarity, but it was as if someone had taken the constellations and moved all the stars just a few inches from where they were supposed to be, and in all different directions. It was as if he was looking at the sky from a million years ago, or a million years in the future.
"We travel to the great wood. It is far to the east," Franzhe said. He seemed to assume the natural role of leader between the two. After their original rescue of Dave, the human had been allowed to tag along, but for the most part was ignored. Franzhe and Calvar shared their food and water, and Dave did his part in carrying their supplies, and helping them when they harvested the unusual fronds or tried to trap small game for food. But it was still clear that Dave was a stranger and not really a part of their party.
"Where go you?" Calvar asked. Of the two, he was the more likable.
"I know not," Dave said and shrugged his shoulders. "I go with you?"
Franzhe scowled. "Can we not lose this creature?" he asked his partner in a wind whisper. "I like him not."
"He is not so bad," Calvar replied. "Let us take him to the great wood. He will then be the problem of the woodlings."
"A good idea, but we will lose him when we reach the wood. I want no part of him further," Franzhe said. "I like not how he seems to die each night."
"He only sleeps," Calvar said.
"So do the sick. Perhaps he carries some terrible human disease like the plague."
Calvar turned to Dave. "You may go with us to the great wood," he said aloud.
"Good," Dave smiled.
"But no farther. You must find others to be with there. It will be up to the woodlings."
"Woodlings?" Dave asked. "What is woodlings?"
"Always, always what is this, what are that. I tire of such stupid questions," Franzhe complained.
"Have patience, lord. He is learning our speech. Each day he speaks better."
"But each day he asks more. May we not leave him this night as he sleeps?" Franzhe suggested.
Calvar shook his head. "That would be wrong," he said. "This one is like a baby. Can you cast it out, alone and unprotected on the plain?"
"Yes."
Their conversation was suddenly cut short. Both elves listened to distant sounds. Dave could hear nothing, but he could tell by the way the two companions were acting that something must be up. They had the same intense look he had often seen on forest creatures when they heard an unusual sound or caught a whiff of a strange scent. "What is it?" Dave asked.
"Many people journey this way," Calvar answered. "Perhaps a caravan."
"Perhaps the answer to my prayer," Franzhe wind whispered.
Dave stood to look into the distance and could make out a dark line on the horizon. He turned to tell Calvar, but found that he was alone. "Calvar...Franzhe," he called, but there was no sign of the two. He looked around but they were indeed gone, as was the pack of food he had been carrying. "Calvar!" he shouted.
Then quietly a voice reached his ear as if from very far away. "Farewell, my lord human. Good fortune go with you." It was his last contact with the two odd little creatures who had rescued him, only to abandon him again.
"Well, you're on your own again, Dave," he said to himself and began walking across the plain. He kept the dark line on the horizon in sight and struck out in that direction.