Chương 27: The Well of Whispers

The three adventurers were sorely spent, with leagues to cover before sunrise. By the light of the Silver Moon, Yureg was pale and drained. Bobbert stumbled in the warrior's shadow as Cinnabinathi kept watch from behind. Cold fog closed around them as they approached the northern end of the Valley of Six Mists. The road was hard. Cinnabinathi struggled, though she was loath to show it. When she climbed over a branch or scrambled down a slope, pain stabbed her left side.

Though his cheeks blazed, she had made Bobbert look under her chemise to see if her ribs were cracked. Her smirk vanished in a gasp as he prodded and probed.

"Not broken, only bruised," Bobbert opined. Cracked or not, they had to press on. Goblins followed them. If the Wolf Riders caught up before they rejoined the main force, no prophecy could save them. They pushed their pains aside and pressed hard into the foggy night. Cinnabinathi made Yureg march ahead so she could keep an eye on him. Though he'd saved her life, the sellsword had not gained her trust. She'd fought the Windsworn before. Once, her Hawkmoon found a hamlet in ashes after an attack by the Reavers.

Inside a seamstress's shop, there were ten scratches gouged into the floor. The woman had sunk her nails into the boards as they dragged her away. For all their talk of honor, the Windsworn were little more than blue-eyed, oversized Goblins. They blighted everywhere the winds bore their white-masted war galleys. Though Yureg had saved them both, it did not change what he was. The Silver Moon vanished behind the western range and they made their way by starlight alone.

They were less than a league from the Viridian river, close enough to hear the rapids roar. Bobbert dragged his feet and stumbled over a stone. If Yureg was tired, he gave no sign.

"Stop there," Cinnabinathi ordered Yureg.

"Rest. I will keep watch in the trees. Now, you can explain yourself, Reaver. Keep your voice low. I will hear."

"Sharp ears," Yureg grinned. Cinnabinathi glared back. She turned to Bobbert and spoke a few words in the lowest mode of Elvish. Bobbert gulped and nodded to say he understood.

"What did you say to him?" Yureg demanded. Cinnabinathi did not answer. She gritted her teeth, climbed into the tree, and vanished.

"She said, if you lie, she'll put an arrow through your spine and we'll leave you for the Goblins," Bobbert translated.

"I could have left you to them as well," Yureg rankled.

"We must take care. Our quest is larger than us. If we fail, many will suffer. Please, what happened to you?" Bobbert spoke with calm diplomacy.

"There is much to tell. Promise me you'll let me finish before you decide whether I live or die," Yureg insisted.

"I promise nothing." Cinnabinathi's voice seemed to come from all around them.

"Just tell the truth," Bobbert urged.

"I will listen." *"I made a terrible mistake," Yureg began. He stopped and searched for words. He could not find them.

"Start at the beginning," Bobbert suggested.

"As you wish. I left the North when I was not much older than you and sought my fortune. It is our Windsworn way, to go where we are blown and let the Zephyrim place us. I loved to ride and fight. Soon, others of a like mind began to follow me. We heard of war in the south and went to join the battle. The banner never mattered much to us. We would fight with an army until the money ran out, then we'd sign with their foes. We grew flush with gold, and my name became famous. That was my undoing.

I burned too many generals and word got around. No army would sign us. My money ran low and my men began to grumble. There is no greater danger than to lead a band of unpaid mercenaries. I heard of a Border Lord who was paying well for skilled riders. Tell me, do you know of Duke Yomone?" Bobbert nodded.

"Yes, he's infamous. Nilium Yomone, son of Morgreu. Duke of Vaniyan. An open traitor. The rumors about that one are too black to be believed."

"What rumors? Tell me what you've heard," Yureg said.

"They say the bloodline is cursed. Red madness takes the men in middle age and the sons slay their fathers. The cycle accelerates. Morgreu was twenty-three when he slew his sire, Nilium was just nineteen. Eventually, a Yomone babe will be born with a dagger in his hand." Yureg did not laugh.

"No one told me he was a madman. I had to find out for myself. He was solid enough when we spoke. His plan was sound and he was free with his coin. I could scarcely refuse, in any case. My coffers were empty. It was Yomone, banditry, or mutiny."

"Yet surely, you knew he was a traitor," Bobbert accused. Yureg lifted his eyes to the trees. In the murk, he could not see Cinnabinathi. Her threat was heavy on his mind.

"Yes. I knew." Yureg set his jaw, ready for judgement. None came.

"Why sign on with a traitor?"

"I have no love for your Imperium. Twice, they have tried to conquer the north. Twice, we have sent them back in tatters. Yes, I have ridden with rebels. Some are scum, like any other army. Most are good men. They want nothing more than to be free of an empire that takes everything they earn and gives nothing in return. It's no crime to betray a tyrant." His blue eyes blazed in the twilight, daring the apprentice to disagree. Bobbert waited him out.

"There were signs, of course, but I ignored them in my desperation. Nilium trusted me immediately. He believed our meeting was destiny. He shared his plans to secede freely and told me he could not be stopped. He took me to the cellars of Stratum Keep, an enormous vault, carved into a cavern of salt. There were casks stacked to the rafters, supplies to outlast a three-year siege. Nilium knew the Emperor would send a legion to crush his rebellion. Stratum Keep is built against a mountainside, high in the hills.

It is unassailable. The Imperial Legion would be stymied at his walls and then my riders would set to work. We would attack their supply lines by night. We would rob, and raid, and fade away. They would send reinforcements, and the next night we'd hit them in some other place."

"Seems a good fit for you."

"It was perfect and I was certain the plan would succeed. In a season or two, the Empire would have no choice but to withdraw. Yomone could claim victory over an Imperial Legion and the Border Lords would flock to his banner. If we succeeded, Yomone promised me a dukedom in his new confederacy. So yes, I took the deal. Who wouldn't?" Bobbert eyed Yureg carefully. So far he'd heard nothing redeeming. The man was just a bandit.

"At Wintermore, you attacked us without parlay. Why?"

"You flew the Imperial Flag. Also, your band seemed ragged enough that we could ride right over you. I never expected to fight a Drake."

"Nor did we."

"I saw your victory. My eyes stung for days afterward. Your master had great power."

"He gave his life. Real power places others before the self."

"We cannot all be saints." Yureg shrugged.

"We need not be demons, either," Bobbert countered. Yureg's hands clenched to fists. Only the threat over his head kept his temper in check. He was not used to being spoken to that way.

"I will speak more of demons, believe me. You are a child. You cannot understand the choices a man must make. I fight not for Yomone's ambition, nor the Emperor's greed. I have men to lead and mouths to feed."

"Traitors all say the same." Bobbert scowled.

"This wildfire springs from a single flame," Yureg countered.

"Yomone is not alone. Every Lord beyond the Riverland is keen to slip the Emperor's grip. Anvillan rots from within. Look at this vale. These people paid a heavy tax for the Emperor's protection. Where is he? All I see are ruined fields and scorched homes. Goblins dig up their family graves to adorn themselves with the bones of their fathers. Sparfydl was the jewel of the Empire. Why did the Emperor let it fall?"

"I don't know," Bobbert admitted. It troubled him.

"Greed, weakness, and decline. The collapse is well underway. When the Empire falls, all the realms of men will be just like this Goblin-haunted ruin. The Black Princes will ride in afterward and take over. Chaos will reign supreme."

"That's not true!" Bobbert protested.

"I feel no arrow in my spine. Find the lie." There was silence from above. Bobbert searched for words to refute the Reaver. He could not find them. Sparfydl was ruined, Wintermore was broken, and Dagbellow was gone.

"There must be a way to escape. What if the Empire and the Northland joined forces?"

"Impossible. They are farmers, we are wolves. In the North, a man is free to worship the Gods of his fathers. The Imperials call us heathen while they worship a living man. Even now, they spit on our emissaries. It would take a miracle to ally the two sides." Bobbert recalled the death of Gunnag Doreson. This Yureg spoke the same, but he had not cracked and gone mad. Yureg's fatalism was born from a life of battle and strife. Surrounded on all sides by monsters, they still could not agree. It all felt so hopeless.

"If you hate us so much, why did you come to find us?" Bobbert asked.

"At the Battle of Aravitrimore, I watched your Dwarves stand while my footmen broke. I saw the Elf put an arrow through its eye. I saw you stand beside your master, a boy against the Diamond Drake. You are not like the others."

"Nor are you just a sellsword. We saw you rally your men and lead a charge at Aravitrimore."

"Yes, of course. Who could resist such glory? But I was a fool. Half my force fled, never to be seen again. I managed to rally my coursers, only to see them cut to ribbons by his bladed breath. I never got close. I could only bear witness to your blinding triumph. They will sing of Prescote the Sage until the end of days."

"What happened next? Where did you go?"

"My army was broken. Half my men were dying or struck blind. We could only limp back to Stratum Keep. I expected Yomone to be enraged and execute me for my failure. Instead, he was elated."

"What!"

"Yes. As I spoke of Aravitrimore a fire grew in Yomone's eyes and he began to laugh. None joined him. The lords in the audience hall were silent and afraid. With every eye upon him, he leapt atop the great table and kicked the candles aside, gleeful as a child. He thundered to the rafters that the End of Days had begun at last. Yomone raved that the other World Drakes would soon return and lay waste to the false works of men. No man in the hall dared to speak against him.

Instead, they cheered him on with terror in their eyes. Yomone fell to his knees and began to weep. When he rose, his face was gray and drained. He ordered his aides to prepare a great feast and departed the chamber. His court and I were left staring at one another, stunned. We were yoked to a madman." Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

"What did you do?"

"I began to plan my escape. First, I went to the infirmary to see if any of my wounded could be saved. The Red Nuns had given them a drug to put them to sleep. A veteran Sergeant who I knew well babbled to me, something about strange treatment from the nuns. They were clad in crimson and their faces were veiled so I could only see their eyes. When I tried to talk to them, they would not answer me. I supposed they were under a vow of silence. Outside, the feast had begun. I moved on to find my officers.

They were rattled and wanted to flee. I gave them leave to slip away, but I had to remain, else I'd doom the wounded. Before I could come up with a plan, I was summoned to attend the duke. I had no desire to celebrate, but my presence was required."

"I have spent all my life with soldiers. I have sacked cities. Never before have I seen such excess. The Duke threw open the great gates and invited all the realm to attend his party. All night, masked figures drifted in. Some did not walk like men, but I blamed my injured vision. Every hall swirled with smoke and screams. In the dark corners the revelers became beasts. There was much wine. I was careful to act as if I'd overimbibed."

"It was a riotous scene. The mad laughter of Duke Yomone cracked over everything. When he saw me, he latched onto my arm with a grip like a blacksmith's tongs and babbled of black prophecies. A cup was pressed into my hand. I feigned besotted amazement as the Duke spoke from both sides of his mouth and cackled at his own contradictions. There was a terrible fever in that man, a furnace inside him that had burned up everything decent. Yomone boasted that he had discovered the secret of immortality.

He insisted I attend him in his laboratory so that he could show it to me. Realizing my cup was drugged, I made a great show of throwing everything up and wallowing like a swine. The Duke broke into hysterics. He had his guards haul me off to the courtyard and dump me in a trough to sober me up." Bobbert listened closely. The breeze died and the leaves fell still. Even the nightbirds were quiet, as if they too wished to hear Yureg's tale.

"I played possum. When their guard was down, I seized both by their collars and drowned them. The gates of Stratum Keep were wide open and I might have escaped, but I could not abandon my men. I found a rutting couple who'd flung their clothes aside and stole a mask and robe. Disguised, I slipped back into the keep.

"Though I'd purged, the drug still took hold. The stone walls of the keep seemed to breathe. The tiles beneath my feet rolled in hissing waves. Lost, I blundered on, searching for my men. I saw a few of my officers, but they were caught in debauches and hopelessly drunk. I slipped past and moved on."

"In a dark hallway, I tripped over a guard who was stone dead. Past him was the door to the Duke's study. I searched his desk and rifled through his papers and proclamations. There were no answers. Everything crawled with black madness. A whiff of foul rot led me to a tapestry that covered a hidden door. I peered inside and the stench grew worse. Just then, voices shouted in the hall outside. Afraid I'd be caught, I slipped into the dark passage and pulled the door shut behind me.

A red light glowed at the end of the secret corridor and I could hear distant cries. I had found Yomone's Laboratory."

"First was the kennel. Men and women were stacked in cages like dogs along the walls, naked and shivering. They yelped and whined, but there was nothing left in their eyes. They did not even plead for help. Next was the tannery. Prisoners were strapped upside down and force-fed through funnels. They were hung from hooks and flayed alive, with their skin rolled up like parchment. I armed myself with one of the skinning knives."

"The last chamber was was the Duke's Secret, a well of whispers. The walls and floors were of darkest jet, lit by ruby lamps. The air reeked of burning metal and gangrene. At the center of the room was a pit of heaving flesh."

"As I clutched the knife, the pool of viscera rose to face me. It took a man's shape but it was incomplete. The abomination was a dripping mass of bloody muscle and entrails covered by a quilt of sewn-together skins. The half-made thing glared at me with a dozen plucked-out eyes and spoke through three mouths: serpent, dog, and woman."

"The Abomination bespelled me. All my muscles cramped at once in a terrible rictus. It spoke at length and told me Nilium Yomone's use was almost through. Excess had eaten his mind. The monster made me an offer. The Duke had grown too unreliable for the Black Princes' liking. They desired a successor and I was their choice. The Black Princes would raise me high. I would ride as a General in the Armies of the Bladed Lady. As payment for my obedience, they would grant me life everlasting and indescribable pleasure.

My broken men would rise again, remade as Knights of Chaos. We would ride north, to begin a Crimson Age where whim is law and all bonds are broken."

"I could not even recoil from the thought, I was still frozen by sorcery. The Abomination felt my refusal and grew furious. Black worms squirmed from its mouths and crawled towards me. The thing in the pit hissed that since I would not accept its generous offer, a clutch of mindworms would nest in my skull. It mattered not if I rode as a general, or lurched on all fours as a husk-slave. The Void would win either way."

"Aaaah!" Bobbert cringed.

"Ha! I think I sounded much like that. I began to scream. I don't know if the drug was fading, or if sheer terror broke its sorcerous grip. I turned to flee. The Abomination rasped inside my mind and tried to compel me to leap into the pit. I fled Yomone's Laboratory in a panic. When I tore through the tapestry the study was empty and the body was gone."

"I rushed through the halls and found my way back to the infirmary. I was too late. Most of my men were dead or missing. There was one survivor, the old sergeant who had warned me about the Red Nuns. He was pinned to the bed with a rapier driven through his guts. When the Sergeant refused them, the Red Nuns skewered him and made him watch their vile work. He begged me to pull the blade free, but he would have died at once. I needed him to tell me what had happened to my men."

"The sergeant sobbed and told me the Red Nuns were Yomone's concubines. Their true forms were a horror to behold. They moved through the ranks, whispering and promising. Those who refused had their lives sucked away. Their bodies were hauled off, fodder for the flenser. Those who accepted the boon were healed and made anew, as fiends. They were searching for me, eager to bring me into the fold."

"I lost everything. There was no one left to save. A great rage kindled in me, darker than any before it. The last thing I can recall is the sergeant, begging me to put him out of his misery. He knew he would not be strong enough to resist when the Red Nuns returned. After that, all is red. I do not know how I found my swords, or how many lives they claimed. As the rage ebbed I was outside the gates, shivering and soaked in blood. The Blue Moon was high in the east.

As I fled into the hills, a man climbed onto the parapets and howled after me. It was Duke Yomone. He screamed that there was no escape from what was already within. No matter how I tried to run, I would drown in the red tide to come. His laugh followed me for leagues." Yureg paused, his voice thick with memory. The wood was silent. The Viridian River whispered in the distance.

"Now you know my tale. Kill me if you will," Yureg said. Again, no arrow came.

"The Stars preserved me for a reason. Every night, I have the same dream. Yomone will lead my warped men north, to Lastgate. The garrison will recognize them and let them in, only to be overwhelmed by fiends in human skin. I have to stop them. I admit, I am a sellsword and a bandit. I have lied and cheated. My deeds are bleak, but I have never lain with Chaos. Help me! If the traitors take Lastgate, all is lost. There is an evil there that can never be allowed to escape. Please. I beg you.

Help me stop Duke Yomone." The proud Windsworn sank to his knees and clasped his hands together before the apprentice like a common beggar. He pressed his forehead into the dirt. Cinnabinathi stepped forward. She was behind Yureg with her hand on her scimitar. Bobbert had heard no sound of her climbing down.

"What say you, Bobbert? Mercy cost us dearly already." Bobbert stopped and thought. Chaos poisoned everything it touched. This Yureg was far too close. His eyes were haunted and darting. Even if the story of Yomone's keep was a fantasy, some doom surely pursued him.

"If this tale is true, then we must aid him. There is an ancient vault beyond Lastgate. For centuries, it's been guarded by the line of Hymionier the Rune King." Yureg raised his head at the name.

"He is my blood. I am the black sheep of Hymionier's line."

"The bandit is a prince?" Cinnabinathi scoffed. Kings were the stupidest things Dwarves had ever invented. Anger flashed in Yureg's cold blue eyes, but he bowed his head.

"I am nothing," Yureg swallowed his fury.

"If you want our help, you must earn it. Join our quest. We're bound for Blagg Bore. If we make it out alive, I will let you make your case to the other leaders. If what you say is true, we must act."

"You have my oath." Yureg clasped a hand over his heart. Before Cinnabinathi could tell him what his oath was worth, a wolf howled in the distance. More voices joined in. They'd tarried too long listening to Yureg's tale. Riders were on their way. *"So how are we doing? Is everyone having fun?" Duncan stopped the game to check in. Everyone was." Woooah," Sandy breathed.

"That's so creepy! This is better than the Exorcist. What's at Lastgate?"

"Travel there and see, if you dare," Vlad challenged. They took a break to set up the next phase of the game. Vlad arranged dungeon tiles while Duncan doled out experience points and helped the other players figure out how to level up their characters. Robin got to pick a new spell. He thought about Flaming Sphere or Freeze Ray, but because of Bobbert's passive, his spells still had a one-in-six chance to fail spectacularly. The Arcane Disaster table for damage spells was brutal.

He chose Web instead, guessing he would probably need to hold back a million Goblins at some point. Vlad wasn't pulling any punches during combat. They'd barely survived the Wolf Riders.

"Great playing, Sandy. Yureg's tale was, uh, darker than expected." Duncan threw a look at Vlad. Is he telling him to take it easy because of me? Robin worried. He didn't want to be treated like a little kid.

"I think it's more like Rosemary's Baby than The Exorcist. Duke Yomone reminds me a bit of Roman Castevet," Robin spoke up.

"You watched Rosemary's Baby?" Vlad was surprised.

"Yeah, with Sharon Tate, right? I saw it last October. Pretty faithful to the book, the dialogue was almost verbatim." Robin threw in a big word to seem more mature.

"Robin the Prodigy," Sandy teased.

"Cram it Amsler. Robin, have you seen Belladonna of Sadness? It's a Japanese animation, another Faustian bargain. It ran at Don Pancho's."

"I haven't, but it sounds cool."

"It's overrated, but the art is good," Sandy said.

"You have no taste, Amsler."

"If I have no taste and I just said your story is good, where does that put you?"

"Wait. Back up. Your Grandma let you see Rosemary's Baby?" Duncan squinted at Robin, still incredulous. He hadn't forgotten Una's wrath.

"Ha! Not a chance. This was in Amarillo. My friend Emilio's brother Bertrán used to be a projectionist. We would hang out with him in the booth. He made Emilio change the reels when he went out for a smoke. You can't smoke in the booth, 'cause some film will blow up. The reels are super heavy, but it was sooo worth it. We saw every movie that summer and the whole horror festival that fall. Then Emilio screwed up and swapped a reel from Carrie into Rocky. The audience booed so loud!

The owner found out Bertrán had his little brother doing his job and got SO MAD! That was the end of free movies."" Ha-HAW!" Vlad's burro (donkey) laugh cracked up the whole room.

"What a goof! How did you like Carrie?"

"I liked the book better, but the movie's still pretty good. Sissy Spacek nailed it. You know Stephen King has a new book coming out in August right? I have it pre-reserved at the library." Vlad lit up with surprise. He grabbed his backpack and plonked it on the table. From inside, he pulled out a sky blue book with paperclips jutting from the fore-edge. The cover read: Advance Reading Copy THE DEAD ZONE Stephen King 428 Pages Viking Press Publication August 30, 1979 625 Madison Avenue, New York, New York, 10022.

"No way!" Robin was amazed.

"How did you get this? What's with all the paperclips?"

"Those are my notes. I'm writing a review for a new magazine that's coming out in the fall." It was hard to believe this was the same jerk who'd dismissed Robin on that very first day, when he'd come into Duke Games with Una. Vlad had opened up so much. It was different from the way Duncan was so easy-going with everyone. Vlad's respect had to be earned.

"You write reviews for magazines?"

"Yeah. I also have stuff in Starlog. They barely pay, but it's great for my portfolio. I'm trying to get some articles in BLACK LABYRINTH too, but RSI is kind of insular. I want to get into the journalism program at USC." Robin paused. He expected the other guys would all jump on Vlad for talking big about going to college. They didn't. He realized they probably all had their schools picked out, too. It was a whole different crew than Robin was used to. Lately, he was minding it less and less.

"What's the new magazine called?"" Fangoria. They'll cover horror and fantasy. If I'm in it, obviously they'll be a huge success."

"And you can buy it right here at Duke Games," Duncan beamed.

"I'm telling you, this is the best hobby store in America. We have world-class writers, painters, and players." Sandy and Vlad puffed up their chests. It was hard to disagree. So far, the game was amazing. Robin was having a blast.

"So, is The Dead Zone any good?" Robin asked.

"You'll have to read the review and see!" Vlad dangled.

"Ahh come on. I don't want to wait that long." Robin pushed away the thought that he might not even be around that long. Not tonight. Vlad made a show of turning his head from side to side.

"It's not good," he said quietly.

"It rules."