The God-Stone War m-4 Read online

  The God-Stone War

  ( Mageborn - 4 )

  Michael G. Manning

  Dedication

  This book took longer for me to write, in large part because of the distractions that naturally came with the success of the previous books. Over the past year many people helped me reach this point… far too many to thank them all. As always I’m grateful for my wife and children, who have continued to give me their full support. The many people who served as test readers and proof-readers also deserve special mention. In particular, my editor, Grace, made a huge impact by shouldering a large part of what had become a heavy burden… the editing.

  I’d also like to thank my fans who drive me to continue with their unceasing enthusiasm, questions, and prodding. If it weren’t for the overwhelming response I received when I first began sharing my writing with the public, I doubt I would have continued this far.

  Chapter 1

  Storm clouds were brewing to the west, and I could feel the wind drawing them ever nearer to the construction site as I looked down over it. I was standing in the newly completed ‘Traveler’s Pinnacle.’ That was the best name I had come up with so far, though I had no doubt that James or one of his underlings would find a more suitable name for the tower soon enough.

  It stood close to two hundred and fifty feet in height with a broad base having its roots atop a massive stone fortress below. To achieve such lofty heights with a wood and stone structure, we’d had to build the bottom floor almost a hundred feet across and tapered it slowly from there as it rose in altitude. Even so, the highest floor was still nearly fifty feet across and boasted a magnificent view from its rooftop balcony. The land could be seen rolling away for miles in every direction. Albamarl was visible in the distance, and the main road went in that direction. Most notably, it was the only paved road that reached the massive construction project that I had named the ‘World Road’.

  A whisper of wind and damp air brought me back to my more immediate thoughts. Far below the nearby quarry was in a delicate state. Work had begun that might lead to disaster if there was a heavy rain before it could be completed. “Elaine,” I said softly to get my companion’s attention.

  “Yes, Your Excellency?” she said promptly.

  I gave her a sour glance. She knew I preferred less formality, and I was not surprised when I saw the hint of a smirk in her expression. She was serving as my ‘miellte’ today, my watcher or spirit guide might be better terms. The magical remnant of Moira Centyr, the last archmage, was no longer able to assist me. After the birth of her daughter, she had begun to fade, her purpose accomplished. In truth, I was not sure if she still existed at all… I hadn’t seen her in years and I left her to her rest, not wishing to disturb her.

  “I need to talk to the wind for a bit. Remain watchful,” I told Elaine, not bothering to reprimand her for using the formal address. It would only encourage her. I held out my hand and she placed her own within it.

  “As you wish, my lord,” she replied, dipping her head respectfully. Her soft brown hair had golden highlights in the mid-afternoon sunlight and the wind tossed loose strands of it across her delicate features. Though she didn’t have Rose’s high cheekbones or Penny’s smooth complexion, she had grown to be quite a beauty in her own right, and her freckles had a certain charm. I put those thoughts aside and turned my attention to the sky above… the young woman was practically a niece to me, or at least I tried to think of her as one. I opened my mind to the wind, and soon enough I had forgotten all thoughts of men and women, male and female, as my thoughts were swept up to the rapidly clouding sky.

  Drifting, I still retained some sense of purpose and I gently persuaded the winds to shift, guiding the heavily laden rainclouds aside and somewhat to the south of the quarry and active construction sites. A week before I had moved the rain to the north and consequently the south had gotten a bit dry, so I hoped to balance things out a bit this way. As I had discovered, once you began meddling with the weather there were far reaching consequences, the less one interfered the better. In this case though, I had little choice. Otherwise the work would be delayed by months while the quarry workers tried to sort through the mud this rain would make of their recent excavations.

  Once I had finished adjusting the weather I withdrew and began contracting my awareness, pulling myself back and rediscovering my limited human self. There was something warm in my hand. I blinked as I stared down at the strange creature standing next to me. After a moment the image seemed to resolve itself as my mind resumed supplying names and labels for what I was seeing. Elaine was standing next to me and the warm ‘thing’ was her hand. Her eyes were damp, and I could feel a certain poignant sadness emanating from her.

  “Are you alright?” I asked, with a voice that seemed foreign to my ears.

  She blinked and smiled, “Yes… forgive me. Watching you I find my breath taken away by the vastness of the sky. I could see something of what you felt… the beauty of it is almost unbearable.”

  I released her hand and patted her cheek fondly as my more paternal instincts returned along with my human emotions. “It is unbearable Elaine. You find it so because you are experiencing it as a human… and that is why you have to watch me. When I let my soul drift free like that the winds scour away my human frailties and I become an alien to my own kind. If it were otherwise, the reality of it would destroy me.”

  “I wish I could hear the wind,” she replied wistfully.

  “You just did,” I answered, referring to her watch over my inner world.

  Elaine shook her head, “You know what I mean… directly, for myself, the way you do.”

  I did indeed know what she meant, but that was one thing I had no power to change. Nor would I have wished to do so. Listening to the voice of the wind, or the earth for that matter, was dangerous. “I am not sure it would be a good thing. Each time I return, I wonder what part of me I may have forgotten or lost this time. Besides, if you were to hear these voices as well, I’d have to find another miellte.”

  “George will be up to the task soon enough,” she reminded me, referring to her younger brother, who had just turned eighteen, “and you still have Father.” Her father was Walter Prathion, a wizard and my friend since I had helped rescue his wife and children seven years previously. She and Walter had generously taken turns acting as my miellte over the past few years.

  I nodded. “That’s true. I’m sure you’ll be glad to have more time to yourself, rather than having to follow me around all day,” I commented.

  Elaine looked downward and her eyes darted to one side in the split second before her face was obscured. “It hasn’t been an inconvenience, and I have learned so much under your tutelage.”

  I had promised Walter I would do my best to train Elaine, and someday George, in whatever I could teach them, but I knew her reply was more than a simple compliment. Elaine was deeply infatuated with me, and I was sure it went well beyond simple hero worship. I also had not the faintest idea how to deal with it.

  I stuck with the strategy that had worked best thus far… I ignored it. “Let’s go inside I’d like to get back to Castle Cameron and see if they’ve reported back yet.” Taking quick strides, I headed toward the door leading in and down, pausing beside it until Elaine had caught up with me.

  By ‘they’, I was referring to the latest mission into Gododdin. Since their defeat eight years ago, the population of Gododdin had been decimated by the priests of Mal’goroth. The families of the soldiers I had slain were put to the knife and their hearts’ blood poured out on his altars. Eventually this led to a widespread revolt and the theocracy had been overthrown, but they were in no shape to handle the shiggreth when they began appearing soon afte
rward.

  The Knights of Stone, led by my close friend, Dorian Thornbear, had been responsible for rooting out and destroying any hint of the shiggreth remaining in Lothion, and by and large they had been very successful. Unfortunately we hadn’t paid much attention to events in Gododdin until it was almost too late. Three years ago James Lancaster, the current King of Lothion, had received a missive from the shaky new government in Gododdin.

  The nation had restored the monarchy, putting a man named Nicholas on the throne. Apparently he was the nephew of the last king, Valerius, who had been deposed by the Children of Mal’goroth. By the time James received his message the Kingdom of Gododdin had been largely overrun by the shiggreth. It had begun in isolated villages and had progressed to the point that many mid-sized cities had been completely wiped out before any organized resistance was formed.

  By ‘organized resistance’ I meant the armies of Lothion and the Knights of Stone. The nation of Gododdin was currently not much more than a diplomatic fiction. Initially I had led the vanguard as we swept through the troubled country and our fears were quickly realized. The place was rife with the undead. We moved cautiously at first, for I feared that we might encounter the creature I knew only as ‘Timothy’, but after months of campaigning we never found a trace of him. I could only hope ‘it/he’ had died or was still trapped underground where I had last seen him.

  The undead we encountered were disorganized, and although dangerous, they were no match for the newly minted Knights of Stone. With my magic and a new arsenal of enchanted weapons that drew upon the power of the ‘God-Stone’, we cut and burned our way across Gododdin, hunting the fell creatures wherever they tried to hide.

  Within a few months the bulk of the fighting was done and half of Gododdin’s remaining citizenry were dead. They were cremated in massive bonfires to prevent them from returning or infecting others with their peculiar form of ‘undeath’. King Nicholas was allowed to resume control of the country, although James had considered annexing the nation while they were vulnerable. I had effectively vetoed that course by refusing to consider those particular commands valid. It had made things a bit tense between James and me for a while, but he didn’t have much choice in the matter.

  Today our latest ‘patrol’ was returning. Patrol was the word we used, but it was a strange choice considering the patrol consisted of over two hundred men along with support, wagons, camp followers, and ten of my hand picked Knights of Stone. It was more of a small army. They had passed their relief, a similar force heading back toward Gododdin, two days ago on the road that led to Castle Cameron. We were still finding more shiggreth, and until we were sure they were all gone, the patrols would continue.

  In truth though, the main reason I was anxious to see the returning patrol was one particular man, Dorian Thornbear, one of my best and oldest friends. He had been gone for nearly six months and despite frequent correspondence via my magic letter boxes, I had sorely missed him. Worse still, Rose was beginning to show signs of agitation at his continuing absence, and when that happened Penny soon picked up on it, and when Penny wasn’t happy… well you understand what I mean.

  Reaching the bottom of the stairs, I opened a door leading into the topmost floor of Traveler’s Pinnacle. The room was mostly empty, possessing no furniture and few decorations, other than a tapestry on the wall and a plain rug. Another stair led down into the lower parts of the tower and eventually to the fortress itself. A circle was cunningly worked into the floor as a pattern of darker woods inlaid in the plain golden oak boards.

  I stepped into the circle with Elaine and she glanced up at me. I gave her a quick nod to let her know I was waiting on her to do the honors. She already had plenty of practice, but I frequently let her activate the circles since she seemed to enjoy it. I think it might have given her a sense of usefulness, but I wouldn’t have suggested it aloud. I felt the smooth surge of her power and our surroundings shifted. We were back in the hall of circles within my house in Albamarl. A short walk put us on a second circle and Elaine took us to Castle Cameron.

  The circle in Castle Cameron actually was placed in a moderately sized building in the castle courtyard. Experience in the past had taught me that the circles could just as easily be used by an enemy to gain entry. To minimize the risk, the circles in Cameron and Lancaster were housed in external buildings with a twenty four hour guard. This didn’t apply to my house in Albamarl, but it had plenty of ‘other’ protections.

  “My lord!” announced the guard stationed inside the building as he snapped to attention. I nodded absently toward him as we stepped out and made our way to the exit. To my shame, I couldn’t think of his name, though his face was familiar. Over the years the growth in the number of my retainers, combined with multiple residences and a busy life had made it difficult for me to keep up with all of their names. I knew it was only natural, but I still felt vaguely guilty about my ignorance.

  As we emerged from the building I addressed the guard outside the doors, a fellow whose name I felt relieved to remember. “David, has Sir Dorian’s patrol returned yet?”

  He had already straightened when I had stepped out. “Yes, mi’lord! Sir Dorian returned early this afternoon,” he answered quickly.

  “Where is he now?” I asked.

  “I am unsure, Your Excellency,” he replied briskly. I had to admire the guard’s cool professionalism. In his place I would have been tempted to respond with something smart, such as suggesting I should ask the Countess.

  I thanked him and headed for the main keep. It was fully repaired now and probably in better shape than it had been ever before. Not that it mattered, since Penny and I didn’t really live here anymore. We dined here, we worked here, and much of our daily lives took place here, but one of my most closely guarded secrets was the fact that we slept elsewhere.

  Seven years before, Penny and my unborn son were kidnapped and I had never forgotten that lesson. Time and experience, not to mention the removal of one of my enemies had made them safer, but I would never take their safety for granted again. Part of that involved safeguards that no one knew about, things I hoped might even fool the gods themselves if they were to come calling. Some might call me paranoid, but I really didn’t give a rat’s ass what ‘some’ might think.

  People scattered as they saw us crossing the courtyard, bobbing heads in deference to my rank. Mumbled ‘Hello’s’ and ‘Good-day Mi’lord’s’ could be heard as we passed. I had never required any obeisance from my people, aside from a modicum of respect. As we reached the main entry one of the footmen stationed outside opened it for us. I had many more retainers now. I sometimes laughed to remember the early days, when I had been hard pressed to find even a messenger.

  Peter met me as we stepped inside. “Good day, Your Excellency,” he said primly. To his credit, not a hint of his deeper disdain for me showed in his voice. Peter Tucker was the grandson of a man I had accidentally slain years before. I had hired him in an attempt to assuage my continuing feelings of guilt. We had never spoken of his grandfather’s death and he doubtless thought I was unaware of the connection.

  I had initially hired him as a scribe and occasional messenger, but his efficiency and native intelligence had led me to promote him several times. He now served as my chief valet, man-servant, and de-facto chamberlain. I knew for a fact that at one point in time he had planned to kill me, but over the years I suspected that his secret anger had waned. In any case, he did a good job and I thought we had developed a sort of mutual respect for one another. At the very least, I never saw the flickers of anger in him that I had once seen.

  “Where is my wife?” I asked without preamble.

  “She recently retired to your apartments, my lord,” he responded.

  I frowned. “And Sir Dorian? I thought she would be entertaining him since he just arrived.”

  Peter coughed slightly, not from any illness but to signal that he was speaking on a sensitive topic. He continued, “Lady Rose indicated th
at they needed some time in private before Sir Dorian’s more general reunion with everyone. The Countess bade everyone avoid bothering them until dinnertime. She has set the cook to preparing a special feast this evening to welcome him and the other knights.”

  Considering she hadn’t seen her husband in months I wasn’t too surprised and I certainly didn’t begrudge them their privacy. “Sounds like I should do the same and see my own lady wife first as well,” I observed. “I’ll be with my family if any needs me, but I’d prefer not to be disturbed until dinner time, if possible.”

  “Of course, my lord, I will see that it is so.” Peter said as he dipped his head deferentially. I moved on, heading for the stairs that led upward to the living areas of the castle; in particular the suites that housed important guests, the Thornbear family, and in theory, myself and Penelope.

  Elaine followed closely beside me and I paused for a moment to address her, “You’re free for the rest of the day, Elaine. I don’t plan to exercise my more esoteric abilities again today.”

  Her face was a picture of disappointment. “But, Your Lordship, you really shouldn’t… I am more than happy to serve,” she protested, while at the same time casting her eyes downward. At times her submissiveness was tiring, while at others it was… distracting. She really was a lovely girl.

  Girl? Ha! She’s grown into a woman. Now, if I could just get her to open her eyes to the wider world around her and realize her own strength, I thought to myself. “I’m sure you have better things to do with your day than follow me around, and I myself am looking forward to some quiet time with my children. Go! I’ll see you at dinner,” I told her firmly. Turning away, I headed for the stairs, my body language communicating my expectation that she had already acquiesced. Over time I had learned that a large part of the art of command was based upon confidence and learning to project it. Even so, my magesight could see her lips curve into a faint pout as I left her there.