Elegy (The Arbiter Codex)

  Table of Contents

  Part I: The Mausoleum

  Part II: Calessa Heights

  Part III: The Low Quarter

  Part IV: The Old City

  Part V: Confrontation

  Elegy

  by Christopher Kellen

  Copyright 2011 Christopher Kellen

  Kindle Edition

  Original Cover Art by

  Zoe Cannon

  and

  Kylen Wiggin

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Acknowledgements

  Thanks to my writing support network – Great Bay Writers' Group: Roberta, Kayla and Elene, for all of your insights and for embodying the spark that keeps us working creatively every day.

  And a special thank you to Zoe, without whom I would have never believed I could even write a novel, much less finish one and get to this stage.

  Part I: The Mausoleum

  He knew that he was being followed.

  The pale moon hung heavily in the sky as the night wore on, casting everything in long grey shadows. Winter had come to the outlands; no snow yet lay on the ground, but the leaves had all fallen from the trees, and the ground was cracked from the freezing temperatures that crept across the land at night. There was no color on a night like this, no colors on the trees with the leaves fallen, and all else washed away in the light of the Deadmoon.

  Mist formed from each breath before him as the great destrier beneath him plodded onward towards their destination. The horse seemed nervous, and his horse was rarely ever nervous. The city of Calessa still lay at least a league away, and they were already in danger.

  It seemed that he was always in danger.

  "Come, Tyral." He urged the horse onward in a low tone, and despite the cold, the great beast managed to pick up its pace.

  He rode onward through the starkly bare trees, casting his eyes about him at all times, expecting that any moment they might attack from the shadows. Traveling at night was a dangerous pastime, and most of those who tried it would fall prey to the horrific creatures that prowled the outlands in the moonlight.

  At last, the great stone walls of Calessa hove into view. He had found refuge at last, a savior from the bitter cold. He could see smoke curling lazily upward from chimneys and lights, though they were few indeed, this close to dawn.

  The walls seemed to grow to an immense height as he approached them. It had escaped him just how high the walls of the city were, built of thick and hardened stone to protect against the horrors that lay just outside them. The dusty road upon which he traveled led straight to the vast wooden gates that admitted visitors into the city.

  As they approached the gate, he drew the horse to a stop. "By authority of the Arbiters, I command you to open the gate and admit me to your city!" he called up towards the top of the walls.

  There was no answer.

  There came from the edge of the barren forest through which he had passed a low, throaty growl. He turned the horse around to see three beasts lingering near the edge of the forest. Twisted mockeries of the creatures they had once been, they stood almost two feet tall at the shoulder. Though they were vaguely canine, no dog would claim them as kin now. Huge teeth, too large for their heads, were bared in anticipation, and their massive claws stood out from huge, oversized paws. In the dark, he could see their eyes glowing a dull, angry red, the color of the corrupted manna that lent them their twisted shape. They eyed him hungrily but did not yet approach, for they knew that what lay on the other side of their gates was their death for certain.

  A lonely traveler, alone outside the gates of the city… that was almost a certain victory for the hungry creatures.

  "Fel dogs," the traveler spat under his breath. He looked sharply up once more at the wall. "Open the gods-damned gates, I say!"

  Still there was no response from the impassive stone.

  "Damn," he cursed viciously. "Nothing for it, then."

  With a smooth motion he swung his leg over the back of the horse and dismounted. The destrier snorted and stepped nervously sideways once the rider had disengaged.

  He reached to his back and pulled free the long, straight blade that hung lightly on his baldric. The crystalline blade came free with a low rasping noise, and the area flooded with a blue glow, the pure manna flowing through the blade and lending him strength. He gripped the blade's handle tightly in both hands, and gave a quick nod toward the horse, who took a few more steps away.

  The walls would protect the city.

  Seeing that their prey had suddenly decreased in size, the fel dogs' confidence increased tenfold. The blue light from the manna blade made them uneasy, but though the corrupted life force had given them size and strength, it had not given them a worthy intelligence.

  They charged.

  The traveler braced himself against the charge. He waited; the beasts were closing rapidly, and he kept his eyes trained on the foremost, the largest. That one would fall first, and the others would follow swiftly.

  The beast leapt at him, baring those monstrous teeth, a mouth large enough to swallow his entire head in one bite. The claws glistened in the moonlight, the combination of blue and red light bathing both in violet.

  He made one swift motion, a half-turn that brought him below the outstretched claws, and then his arms went up, the crystalline blade cutting a long stroke along the beast's underbelly. It was not the killing stroke he had hoped for, but as the beast passed by him it let out an unearthly shriek.

  It landed on the ground a few feet away, dripping luminescent fluid that pooled on the ground beneath it. As the traveler turned to meet the eyes of the beast, it let out a low, rumbling growl. The voices of the others joined it and the noise rose to a howl, a cacophony that threatened to deafen him.

  "Beast!" the traveler shouted, rushing forward with a downward stroke intended to cleave the creature's head from its shoulders.

  The fel dog leapt aside and came back immediately, its claws raking the air as the man took a step backward, out of its reach. He sensed that the others were circling around behind him, waiting for a moment when he was not watching them, so that they could bring him down as a pack.

  He spun about, releasing one hand off the grip of his sword. Blue fire began to collect around his newly freed hand, and he let out a cry as the manna fire leapt from his thickly gloved hand at the two fel beasts. One managed to get out of its way, but the fire caught the other directly in the abdomen. The creature let out an echoing yip as the fire struck it, and then as though it had a malevolent intelligence all its own, the fire began to devour it.

  Its yip turned into a horrible howl of pain as the blue flames devoured its flesh, reducing it within seconds to nothing but a red glow that quickly absorbed into the earth, the corrupted manna returning to the land for purification.

  "One down," he said with a small smile.

  The other two were now circling warily in the other direction. He came about to face them, one wounded and still dripping viscous fluid – it could not be called blood, for it had ceased to flow long ago – the other still hale but its confidence shaken by the sudden loss of its companion.

  He once again set his stance with both hands on the blade, and waited.

  The wounded one, the alpha, was the first to charge. The wound it had taken had enraged it now, and the dull red f
ire in its eyes had brightened in fury. Its charge was surefooted and sound, but the wound had slowed it. It feinted and snapped its teeth to the left, but he had anticipated its deception. When it moved back to make its true attack, he sank the crystalline blade deep into the beast's neck. It let out a strangled cry and the thick fluid poured forth from the new wound.

  He twisted the blade sharply, and that was the end of the beast. It dropped to the ground, and blue fire crept down the crystalline blade of its own volition, the pure manna seeking to purify the corruption, to cleanse it of its evil. Soon, the blue flames were licking at the corpse, and as they caught they clung to the fur, to the flesh, and reduced it in a flash to the same retreating red glow.

  As he pulled the blade free, he turned to face the last of the fel dogs. He stared at it defiantly, daring it to attack him as well, to meet the same fate as its two companions. It stared back, meeting his eyes for a moment. Though the manna had twisted its form and robbed it of many an instinct, self-preservation was still strong in its brain. The prey had outwitted it, and though pride was badly damaged, the desire to continue existing overrode the rage to attack.

  It turned tail and fled, back into the frozen forest.

  None of the luminescent fluid from the slain beast remained on the blade. It had been consumed by the manna within the sword. He positioned it carefully and slid it back home into the scabbard on his baldric, and the blue glow vanished as it clicked home. He flashed the horse a smile, and the beast rolled its eyes and huffed a sigh.

  The great gate cracked open behind him. He turned to face it, and saw the wooden barrier beginning to part. From within, a soldier walked forward, his polished steel armor gleaming in the moonlight.

  "That was quite the display," the soldier said amicably.

  "It won't soon be returning," the traveler said, staring off into the forest after the beast. "Not until it gathers its pack."

  "You're an Arbiter?" the soldier asked, after looking him up and down. "You won't be much liked in Calessa. There's plenty of evil here… if you go looking for it, you'll find it."

  "I am an Arbiter, not an Inquisitor," he responded. "I do not search for the evil of men. I have no care for those who break the laws of men. I have come to Calessa because the manna has drawn me here.

  "Look around at the forest. The life force has become corrupted, your trees die, the ground is frozen and yet there is no snow. Great beasts roam the forests. I would be surprised if any trade caravans have made it here in months. The manna has become corrupted here, and I am to set it right." He gestured widely with his hand, indicating the land about them as he spoke.

  "How do you intend to do that?" the soldier asked.

  The Arbiter merely smiled at the man. His eyes took on a fervent gaze, and his irises began to glow softly with the blue light of the manna.

  The soldier quickly became uncomfortable. "As I said, you won't be much liked here in Calessa, but since you drove off those fel dogs, I'll allow you inside. Please declare your name and occupation."

  "My name is D'Arden Tal," the traveler said. "I am an Arbiter."

  **

  The city was quiet in the dark hours of the morning, those few last moments before the first rays of light began to break the horizon. Only a few torches burned outside buildings; most had been extinguished. The square inside the gate he had entered would have normally been crowded with traders and shoppers, he guessed, and it was almost strange and intimate to see the streets so devoid of life.

  Across the way he spied a building which was still brightly lit, even in these dark hours. There were lanterns blazing on a small sign near the street that pointed down a small foot path to the building that read 'TAVERN'.

  He nodded to himself. Not only were rest and sustenance important, but he also needed a base of operations – somewhere to begin building his investigation.

  Giving the horse a sharp tug on its reins, he began to walk towards the low-set building. The roof slanted slightly downward as it traveled from right to left, and the wooden slats looked to be worn, but not worn out. There was a fair-sized stable that was barely visible around the right-hand edges of the main hall.

  There would be food and lodging for both of them tonight.

  As he approached the sign, a boy stepped out from behind it. D'Arden was momentarily shocked to see such a young lad out so late – or, truly, up so early – but the boy offered out a friendly hand to take the horse's reins.

  "Will you be staying with us tonight, master?" the boy asked.

  "Indeed I will," D'Arden said after a moment. He handed the boy the reins with one hand, and with the other, pressed a thick silver coin into the boy's other hand. The lad took a quick glimpse at it, grinned… and then the coin was gone, and the boy was leading the great beast away to the stables where it would be happily brushed and given all the grain it could eat for the day.

  He started up the short footpath to the low-lying building and pushed the door open when he reached it. Warm light spilled forth from the threshold, but only a few sounds of life came from within. He stepped quickly inside and closed the door behind him to keep the cold at bay.

  All of the tables inside, which in the evening would have been filled with loud, raucous laughter and the banging of glasses and shouting, were silent. There were only a few still awake: one man in the corner near the merrily blazing fireplace who appeared to be nursing a bottle of some kind, and another sitting at a table all the way across the room from the door, his head bowed and appearing to sleep without having made it to his chamber for the night.

  "Mornin', master," came a voice from the counter. A slender, wiry man with thick hair and small, squinted eyes looked over at him from where he stood, polishing a glass with an old rag.

  D'Arden favored him with a slow nod. "Good morning."

  "Travelin' all night, have you been?"

  "Indeed I have."

  The publican looked him over slowly, tilting his head with interest. "How'd you get them guards to let you in before dawn?"

  D'Arden fixed one manna-blue eye on the man. "There were beasts outside. Fel dogs. I killed them."

  The other man nodded appreciatively, bobbing his head a little too far each time. "That would do it, all right. They always looking for another sword to keep the city safe."

  "Perhaps," D'Arden said.

  "Good then." The publican nodded once more before turning back to the alcohol behind the bar. "Looking for a drink this early morning, or just some rest?"

  "Neither, actually." D'Arden stepped more fully into the room and crossed it with a few quick strides to stand next to the counter. The tavern-keeper seemed startled by his sudden approach, but made little external movement. "I do need to rent a room from you, but then I will be gone for a short time. Tell me, where is this city's closest font?"

  The publican's eyes stretched wide, wider than D'Arden would have thought imaginable. "Why would you want to know a thing like that? Those things is dangerous, you know. We won't have any sorcerers staying at my house!"

  D'Arden shook his head. "Worry not. I am no sorcerer. They are unpredictable and dangerous, working the manna to their own ends, for personal gain and power."

  The other man stared at him with such shock in recognition that D'Arden almost smiled broadly. "Y…you are…" the man stammered.

  "Correct," D'Arden said, barely managing to contain that same smile.

  "We've not seen one of your kind about here in five years! My house is your house, master Arbiter! P… please do not think that my…"

  D'Arden held up a soothing hand. "Worry not. Your conviction was so strong about having no sorcerers under your roof that it nearly echoed in the life-force around you. You and your family are safe."

  "Th…thank you, master Arbiter!" the publican's relief was evident, as was the stench of the sweat that had suddenly come over the man in his nervousness. He leaned in conspiratorially, and it was all D'Arden could do to keep from choking on the man's smell. "The font's
few blocks down. We can't control where they come up, but the soldiers always build them stone chapels around 'em that's locked away from outsiders. If you've got a friend in the garrison, that'll be your ticket inside."

  "And the room?"

  "For you, master Arbiter, minimal charge. Two silver a week."

  D'Arden nodded. "And a third for the good care of my horse."

  "Of course, of course," the publican said, reaching under the counter to pull free one of the keys from the rack, and then handing it to the Arbiter. "It be the largest room I have left available tonight."

  "It will suffice," D'Arden said, tucking the key into one of the pockets of his great black cloak. "For now, I must go and find the font."

  "Be wary, master Arbiter," the tavern-keeper said. "Terrible things walk the streets of Calessa these days. It seem nowhere is safe."

  Without even making a movement toward the stairs that would take him to his room, D'Arden walked swiftly back to the door to the bitterly cold outside and stepped through it, careful not to let too much of the inviting heat creep out.

  The sky was beginning to show its first signs of light, and D'Arden knew that if he was going to make his way inside the font chapel, he would have to do so before too many were awake. Breaking into the chapel was a possibility, but he quickly decided against that – there was too much at stake here, and alerting the townsfolk to the possibility of a rogue sorcerer was too dangerous.

  He would have to hope that the guard who had let him in at the gate would be amenable enough to allowing him to access the font.

  A few long strides carried him back over to the gate, which was once again closed and locked, barring entry from the outside world. A few of the soldiers approached cautiously, and D'Arden quickly recognized the man who had let him inside the city.

  "Leaving again so soon are ye, master Arbiter?" the soldier asked.

  D'Arden shook his head. "No. I need to get inside the font chapel."