The Fenimeldiyaan: Stolen Time - Chapter 5

Joseph sprinted through the streets, shoving past the few bystanders who were wandering around. He was trying to put as much distance between himself and the castle as possible. He needed allies to get Ilise out of the castle, otherwise, he’d just be handing Set the last piece he needed.

Why had Andreas told him to run away just before siding with Jezebel and Set? Unless the little man had planned a double-cross. But then, had Morgan Shadowbinder ruined that by killing Andreas?

Joseph was too confused as he ran blindly. Tears stung his eyes as he realised he was coming close to failing his sister, just as he had failed his parents. He could clearly hear his mother’s words from a week before, when she’d sent him and Ilise out of the castle. “Protect yourselves. You’re the last hope of Vordelle now. I won’t leave your father, but you must go. Hurry!”

The last hope of Vordelle, and Joseph couldn’t even protect one sister. How was he supposed to help a whole country? Bitterly, he wondered if he would be better off leaving Ilise and going to one of the other countries. At least that way, Set would have to keep her alive.

Just then, he spotted the small, blond young man Andreas had told him to seek out. He was conversing with a green-haired girl. Pushing aside his doubts, Joseph entered the alley and listened to their conversation for a moment.

“I believe you meant Merlin’s niece,” Basil corrected her, his mind going back to the girl singing in the tavern. “I’d like to help, yes. I’ve been feeling rather useless. I assume this means that Merlin is at the mercy of Set now, hmm?”

“You must help.” Joseph stepped out. “Councilman Basil of Colnia, yes?”

Basil viewed him curiously. “Yes, indeed. And who do I have the pleasure of speaking to?”

“Joseph Lightshield. King of Vordelle. You must help me break into the castle. We can rescue this girl you’re talking about and my sister at the same time.”

Basil turned to the green-haired sorceress. “Up to you, milady,” he said. “Do you think we can undertake both missions successfully?”

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Terra groaned, pulling himself up off the street. His body felt bruised and sore, but nothing seemed broken. Well, aside from his pride. Things definitely weren’t turning out the way he’d intended. Not only had he lost track of Lizzy, he’d decided to protect the royals of Vordelle and immediately lost them as well!

Frustrated, Terra retrieved his lance and slid it back into its cradle. There was little use in standing around. He would have to find them again. “You made this bed,” he muttered. “All you can do is lie in it.” Then he started trudging towards the castle.

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A gentle breeze started up, stirring the pile of ashes that had once been Andreas Cesario.  The breeze grew stronger and the ashes began to scatter, borne on the wind and dissipated throughout the city.  Soon there was nothing left to show that the wily Carpathian Spy Master had ever existed. 

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Gremeldah smiled, having regained some of her former confidence along with most of her powers.  “Aye, I reckon so.  Anyways, it wouldn’t hurt to try.  After what Set did to me, anything we can do to hit back at him, or at least inconvenience him, would please me immensely”.

“Then we must formulate a plan of action” Basil replied.  “Your Majesty, it would help if you could tell us how your sister came to be captured and anything else that strikes you as being significant or unusual”.

Joseph’s forehead creased in concentration but Gremeldah ruined the moment by remarking “Ye be a king?  For real?  I’ve never met a real monarch, since we don’t have a monarchical system where I come from.  I’ve only ever read about monarchs in books”.

Joseph blushed at her gushing admiration.  “I don’t feel like a proper king and so far I’ve not done a very good job of it”.

“You’re still young and inexperienced” Basil reminded him.  “I’ve served various kings and queens in my time, so I might be able to advise you.  But first, I need to hear your account of events.  Don’t leave anything out, even if you think it’s trivial or irrelevant”.

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A fierce wind tugged at Terra, slowing him down and making his progress difficult.  He felt an uneasy tingling sensation, indicating that the wind was not a natural phenomenon.  A wind caused by sorcery was the only conclusion he could come to.

He paused to take a rest, for the effort of moving forwards had rendered him breathless.  Sparkles danced in front of his eyes and dizziness threatened to overwhelm him.  Knowing the familiar signs that he was about to pass out, he sat on the cobbled road rather than waiting until he fell down and injured himself.

When he regained consciousness, he had no idea of the passage of time.  He heaved himself up into a sitting position and massaged his aching head.  As he did so, he noticed something tied around his right wrist.  It was a pale blue silk ribbon, the sort that might be used for adorning a little girl’s hair.  Someone must have put it there while he was out cold, but why?  What did it mean?

He tried to untie it but the knot appeared to have been sealed with glue.  It was bound too tightly around his wrist to slip off, so he took out his dagger and tried to cut it off.  The sharp blade slipped on the fine silk, failing to make even the slightest mark on it.  He was stuck with it for the time being.

Sighing wearily, he got to his feet and continued towards the castle, wondering what awaited him there.

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Joseph tried his best to ignore Gremeldah, who was still watching him with what could only be described as awe. The elf, Basil, seemed to be taking a calmer approach to their predicament. He kept his eyes on Joseph and waited as the young King gathered his thoughts. “It started a week ago. We received word at Zor that the king and queen of Colnia, as well as their assistant ruling Council, had gone missing. We didn’t think much of it at the time, we assumed it was a trick of the Colnians’. We were at war at the time,” he added, seeing the look on Basil’s face.

The elf pursed his lips. “Carry on.”

“Well, since there was evidently no ruling power in Colnia, my father, the King, sent men to investigate. They returned but they were … dead. Animated corpses. Again, we assumed it was Colnian magic until Morgan Shadowbinder approached my parents. I never met him, I only saw him leaving. Whatever he told them alerted them to the fact that Queen River of Corttann had likewise disappeared. Still, the signs were ignored and we didn’t think anything of it until Set attacked the castle.” Joseph stopped, taking a long, deep breath to calm himself. “My mother gave herself up to let Ilise and I escape. She told us to find our cousins and Morgan Shadowbinder, and to save Vordelle. So far, all we’ve done is dodge around Zor, trying to avoid Set’s men.”

Basil leaned forward. “What happened now? What’s changed?”

“Two Corttannians turned up and me and my sister saved them,” Joseph explained. “But then we had to separate when Set came after us. I lost track of the girl I was with and I couldn’t find Ilise. I think she was taken prisoner. There was a magic-blocking knight with Ilise … maybe if we found him, he could explain what happened to my sister.”

Basil was deep in thought, rolling a white stone around his palm. His other hand was tapping against his upper lip. Finally, he stood up. “How did you know to come and find us? Did Merlin Emrys send you?”

Joseph shook his head. “Andreas Cesario sent me to find you or Merlin and ask you to help before he died.”

That got Basil’s attention. He spun back around to face Joseph, his expression alarmed. “Andreas is dead?”

Joseph nodded. “Morgan Shadowbinder killed him. I can’t understand it. He was telling me to run and find you, but at the same time he was offering his services to Jezebel. It’s all very perplexing.”

Basil sank back down to the ground. “If Andreas Cesario is truly dead, we may have a new enemy to contend with in this Shadowbinder,” he mumbled. “But then, I’ve never known that wily Carpathian to not have a trick up his sleeve.”

“So what do we do?” Joseph asked.

Basil pocketed the stone. “We break into the castle, I think. Bringing you may not be such a good idea, though …”

“I must go,” Joseph insisted. “I’m not leaving this in the hands of a Colnian. This is a Vordellan problem and I am the king.”

Basil smiled faintly. “To be fair, you’re not the king of anything at the moment,” he said. Joseph looked like Basil had struck him in the face. “But on my honour, I will not betray you. I’ve no love for war; war claimed my entire family’s lives. And in my time, we’ve never been anything but friends with Vordelle. Which means something has changed.” He turned to Gremeldah, an idea forming in his mind. “Tell me, milady — why did Set have you imprisoned? What did you have that he wanted?”

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Terra kept walking while tugging at the ribbon wrapped around his wrist. Why someone would have tied it around his wrist was anyone’s guess. But it was uncomfortably tight and he wanted to get rid of it. As he walked, he even tried to his teeth to tug it off, but only succeeded in accidentally clamping his teeth together.

Terra always felt like he was a step behind everyone else. This time, he felt even worse. Someone had evidently knocked him unconscious with the wind of sorcery, but why? The ribbon wasn’t impeding his ability or making him feel sick. He felt fine, if not a little woozy from the remnants of his blackout on the road.

But he knew that the closer he got to the castle, the higher the sorcery wards would be. Chances were, he’d step in the door and pass out. But he had no choice. He’d made a promise to protect Lizzy, Ilise, and Joseph, and it was one he intended to keep.

It was for that reason that he kept walking.

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Gerald was locked in a room with his daughter, his son — who, for some reason, Set had chosen to turn back into a human from being turned to stone — his niece Ilise, and a charming red-haired bard named Lana. Morgan had been kept separate.

Although Leanora tried to keep her distance from Gerald, her overpowering relief at seeing that Fitz was alright and Gerald’s reaction to meeting his son changed her mind. He kept his arms over both of their shoulders, intent on protecting them. Lana was humming to herself in the corner, and Ilise hadn’t said a word since introductions had been made. Oddly enough, none of them were tied up.

Gerald grimaced when the door slammed open. Both Jezebel and Set strode in, looking as annoyingly arrogant as they usually did. Gerald watched them, moving both his silent children behind him. Leanora was gripping his hand with a fierce intensity, and Fitz had his hand on Gerald’s arm. “Still not broken, I see,” Set commented to Gerald. “I’m not entirely cruel. I let you say good-bye to your children before delivering you to your executioner.”

Gerald stood up. “It be time for me to die then, eh?” he said.

“Indeed.” Shadows wrapped around Gerald’s wrists and tugged him forward.

Leanora caught the back of her father’s coat. “No!” she cried. “Leave him alone. You can’t kill him!”

“It be alright, Lea,” Gerald told her softly. “If I truly killed Elsa, then ye be safe from me now. And if I didn’t … seek out anyone who’ll listen to ye. Never give up. Aye, me girl?”

“Father, I just met you.” Fitz’s eyes were filled with tears. “You can’t leave us here!”

Gerald closed his own eyes briefly. “I ain’t got a choice.”

Jezebel made a noose of shadows and tugged at it like a leash around Gerald’s neck. “Come along, King Gerald,” she said. “There’s someone who’s been dying to see you — and kill you.”

Once they had gone, Leanora collapsed into Fitz’s arms, sobbing. It was undeniable cruelty to have her father so close, only to be torn from her grasp once again. Fitz held her close, but his own face was pale with horror.

Lana stepped forward, the bard’s face set in a fierce expression. “You monster!” she shouted. “You cruel, evil thing! I hope Uncle Emrys slaughters you!”

“Sadly, my dear, you won’t be around to see it.” Set stepped toward her and, before she could react, he stabbed with a black spike into her stomach. She stood there, her eyes wide with pain, still alive. “This should take about three days to kill you. It’s a slow, painful venom, and you can thank your ‘Uncle Emrys’ for it.” He yanked the spike free and Lana collapsed. Only Ilise kept her from falling and hitting her head on the floor. “And the only person who can heal it is dead. Pity, isn’t it?” Flipping his cloak dramatically, Set turned on his heel and left the room.

Ilise held Lana’s head on her lap, tears sliding down her cheeks. “I wish Joseph were here,” she wept. “I could heal her then.”

Leanora tried to ignore how Lana’s veins were turning black, or how the bard’s breathing was getting harsh and random. “There’s only one thing we can do,” she said. “We have to break out of here.”

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Gerald was dragged to a separate room and shoved inside. The windows were curtained off, leaving the room in darkness. He stood by the door, not breathing, listening. Then he heard it. Another person, breathing heavily, probably in anticipation. “I know ye be there,” Gerald said. “Ye may as well come out. I be unarmed and me hands be tied in front of me. Ain’t exactly a whole lot I can do, aye?”

Slowly, the figure stepped forward, a blade in the masculine figure’s hands. Gerald went on, “Set tells me ye want to kill me. Who ye be? Reyhna, brought back to life? Cliff? I left him in Albion. So who ye be?”

The man lowered the sword a bit. “I be the one whose throne ye stole,” the man said, and Gerald lifted his head in surprise. “I be yer younger brother, Fitzwilliam. Are ye ready to die, brother?”

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Gremeldah’s expression changed to one of utter dismay.  She sighed and shook her head.  “I ain’t a Lady, I be a stupid gullible fool whose head were turned by flattery.  I be old enough — and I ought to be wise enough — to know better. I be sorry”.

“So you’re saying that Set tricked you?” Basil enquired.  “How exactly?  I appreciate how ashamed you must feel, but we need to concentrate on hard facts.  What did he gain from tricking you?”

“The secrets of Chronomancy”.  She gave another heavy sigh.  “I be a member of the Sacred Order of Chronomages and I be sworn to keep our knowledge secret, except in times of grave peril and threat to the multiverse”.

“I’ve never heard of it” Joseph remarked.

“Tis because the secret be so well kept” she explained.  “Chronomancy be the art of manipulating time.  Most people believe that time can only move in one direction, that it be linear and fixed.  However, in reality, tis flexible and constantly changing.  Also, there be multiple versions of what we call reality, each one differing in small ways.  Sometimes one version bleeds over into another, blurring the nature of reality and causing anomalies.  Tis our job to correct these bleeds and maintain the correct balance within the multiverse”.

“I believe I have a better understanding of what happened now” Basil stated.  “Set has used what he learned from you to change people’s memories and perceptions, thus causing the war.  In addition, he used advanced Chronomancy skills to move himself and certain other key players forward in time, causing mass chaos and destruction”.

Gremeldah gave a harsh bitter chuckle.  “Thanks, Lord Basil, ye’ve made me feel so much better.  This won’t be a stain on me conscience or me reputation at all.  Me Grandma will be so proud of me”.  She turned away from him, radiating anger from her crystal bonds.

“The sarcasm ill becomes you” Basil remonstrated.  “I’m sorry, for what it’s worth.  Set’s powers of persuasion are legendary. Very few can hold out against his threats or his flattery.  Please accept my apology”.

“Ye be a real piece of work!” Gremeldah growled, her pretty face distorted by anger.  “First shaming me then trying to get me back on side cause ye need me expertise in setting the time-lines right.  Call yerself a diplomat?  I’ve known bears in the forests with better diplomacy skills than ye!”

She paused and made a supreme effort to calm herself.  “However, I will help, for the sake of yer world.  I feel responsible, so tis only right and proper that I do me best to remedy the situation.  Let’s start by taking a look at this castle that’s got ye so agitated”.

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Terra staggered, feeling a strange weight tugging at his magic block again.  It only lasted a moment, but in that brief interval, he sensed that the ribbon around his wrist was more than a mere hair decoration.  It was an artefact of power, charged with the essence of its previous owner and it had been given to him for a reason.  However, he remained unaware of that reason.

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Basil frowned briefly, still lost in thought. Joseph had the feeling he was the type of person who cared little for what he said and did while thinking — even to the point of offending Gremeldah. Still, Joseph felt he had been rather unfair to her. As Basil had said, Set was a master of manipulation. He knew exactly what strings to pull to get people to bend to his will. Poor Gremeldah had been helpless, and she certainly wasn’t the first.

Basil interrupted Joseph’s train of thought. “We need to go to the castle, then,” he said. “Come along.”

Gremeldah and Joseph followed the rather irritating elf through the streets. Night had fallen, meaning the occupants of Zor had all gone to sleep. The only sounds were their shoes striking the cobblestones beneath them. Joseph said nothing as they walked, staring at his feet. He and Gremeldah let Basil get a little ahead of them, not wanting to speak with the tactless elf. Once he had gone far enough, Joseph took ahold of Gremeldah’s sleeve and tugged on it. “Milady,” he said quietly. She turned to him, curious. “I want to … to offer my apologies. Set tricked you into this mess — my mess — and now you feel responsible.”

They were within sight of the castle now. Joseph gazed up at it, tears filling his eyes. “I failed in my duties,” he said. “The fault lies with me. Had I been more careful … had I truly been worthy of the throne that I took … none of this ever would have happened. Zor used to be a beautiful place before the war. Now it is a place of ugliness and destruction.” Only one tear escaped his eye. “My parents saved the world from a demon invasion. I can’t even save my sister from one man. What sort of a king am I?”

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Gerald kept his back to the wall, watching his brother carefully. The two resembled each other so closely, they looked like twins; now Gerald could see by Fitzwilliam’s shadow that Gerald was the taller of the two as well as the older one. “I don’t want yer throne, mate,” he said, diving to the side as his brother’s sword bit into the door. “I never did! Why do ye think I left Dundar in the first place?”

“Except ye came back,” Fitzwilliam snarled. “When our father died, ye came back, took the throne, and gave it to a commoner! Blast ye to the devil, Fitzgerald! I’ll kill ye.”

Gerald backed away, but he knew he was only delaying the inevitable. And for some reason, that decided him. He stopped moving and stood up straight. “Aye, ye will. It ain’t a fair fight, and I don’t fight in fights that ain’t fair. Go on then, brother. Kill me. Do the deed ye couldn’t do years ago when I had a sword in me hand and when I could defend meself.”

Fitzwilliam didn’t hesitate. He stabbed forward with the thin longsword, impaling Gerald through the chest. Gerald didn’t even attempt to dodge. He did gasp in pain as the blinding agony surged through his body and realised with alarming clarity that this was it. This was the end.

He was dying.

Fitzwilliam tugged the sword free, and Gerald collapsed to the ground. Blood stained the blade of the weapon, and Gerald’s brother gave a snarl of triumph. “At last, I’ve killed ye!” he said.

Gerald’s voice was quiet. “Elsa, me love. Leanora, Fitz … I be sorry. In the end … I failed ye …” A single tear tracked its way down his grizzled face. “Andreas, wherever ye be … ye’ve been … a father to me …” With a deep, shuddering breath, Gerald exhaled and his eyes were locked on the ceiling.

Another breath did not come, and Fitzwilliam left the room in triumph. He didn’t see the white light just above Gerald, but nothing it did returned the mercenary’s breath.

Gerald Hunt was dead.

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Set sat beside Elsa on the bed he’d placed her and her sister in, laughing triumphantly. A shadow stroked the redheaded thief’s forehead. “How the mighty have fallen,” he crowed. “Your husband is dead, your children will follow. And once I have Joseph in my possession, I’ll wake you up and kill your sister in front of your eyes as well. Won’t that be pleasant?”

He didn’t see the single tear that escaped Elsa’s closed eye, trickling down her cheek.

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Morgan struggled to control the shadowy cage around him, but it refused to give. Tears of frustration built in his eyes, but he forced them down. He would escape. He had to escape. “Andreas, you fool, where are you?” he cried. Trapped in the pitch-black room, alone, unable to see, he let his anger free. “I trusted you. I relied on you! You can’t have let me kill you! So where the devil have you gone? We need you!”

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Ilise still cradled the bard’s head in her arms. Lana had long since lost consciousness, and she shivered from fever. Her veins had turned entirely black, and her skin was beginning to take on a grey pallor. Every now and again, she would thrash about in pain, and Ilise had a bruise on her cheek from one of those fits. Still she stayed by her.

Fitz had given Lana his coat and Leanora, her cloak, but still the bard shivered. The two thieves had examined the entirety of their prison and were forced to admit defeat — there was no escaping it. Leanora buried her face in Fitz’s shirt. “We’re going to die,” she sobbed, letting defeat overcome her. “Father …”

Fitz stroked his sister’s hair, fighting down his own tears and hopelessness. “Don’t give up,” he said. “Please …”

“Joseph will come,” Ilise put in. “I know he will. Don’t give in to defeat.”

Leanora said nothing and refused to raise her head.

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Olivia hugged her book to her chest, her head bowed, praying fervently. Lizzy had been separated from her and she didn’t know where she was. The little girl’s arms bled where shadows had lashed out at her, but still she refused to give in. Set could torment her all he wanted. He wouldn’t get what he wanted from her. She wouldn’t give in and become his slave.

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“You monster!” Merlin screamed at Set, struggling to escape the web of shadows that had entangled him. “What have you done to her? What did you do to Lana?!”

“She’s dying, Merlin,” Set told him. “Because of you. My apologies, but I cannot reward treachery. As for you, I suppose all you’ll be useful to me as is a well of magic to draw from. It’s a pity, I would have preferred to use you as a slave instead of this way. But I suppose that’s the way of the world. Enjoy your imprisonment.” A shadow gagged the young sorcerer, cutting off his furious curses at the dark wizard. Set gave him a mocking bow before turning on his heel and leaving the sorcerer trapped.

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Terra cracked open a window in the side of the castle, creeping inside. The instant his feet touched the ground, the ribbon disappeared off his wrist. That was unexpected, and the sorcery wards were making his head spin.

Fighting down the usual feelings that accompanied the wards, Terra started through the halls. The first and most obvious place to check would be the dungeons, and that was where he went towards first.