The Pool And The Pedestal (Book 2) Read online

  THE SERAPHINIUM

  BOOK II

  THE POOL AND THE PEDESTAL

  BY DANIEL FRANCIS MCHUGH

  Copyright  2011

  Daniel Francis McHugh

  http://www.seraphinium.net

  All rights are reserved. No part of this book may be

  used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without

  written permission from the author.

  McHugh, Daniel F. (2011).

  The Pool and the Pedestal

  (The Seraphinium Series, Book 2)

  DEDICATION

  This book is dedicated to

  Janis McHugh,

  Who taught me how to love.

  William McHugh,

  Who taught me how to learn.

  AND

  Grandpa Casey,

  Who taught me how to live.

  Additional thanks go out to early readers of the series previously not mentioned: John Pryor (a most excellent brother in law) and his wife Megan; Beth and Rob Bishop; David “Harpy” Harap; Carl “GeeLove” Galvan,

  THE NEARING WORLD

  Table of Contents

  CHAPTER 1: REUNITED

  CHAPTER 2: THE DAGGER BENEATH THE THRONE

  CHAPTER 3: THE ROARING HORSE

  CHAPTER 4: SHARDS OF ROCK

  CHAPTER 5: FLAME OF THE SERAPH

  CHAPTER 6: SHARPENING BLADES

  CHAPTER 7: THE ENEMY OF MY ENEMY

  CHAPTER 8: RED HAT AND BALD HEAD

  CHAPTER 9: WAGON GREASE

  CHAPTER 10: THE CRADLE OF NIGHT

  CHAPTER 11: THE STONE PROPHET

  CHAPTER 12: BLOOD OF THE SERAPH

  CHAPTER 13: OFF LIMITS

  CHAPTER 14: THE POOL AND THE PEDESTAL

  CHAPTER 15: DRAVGO OF AQUABA

  CHAPTER 16: BIRD OF PREY

  CHAPTER 17: A MADMAN’S RAVINGS

  CHAPTER 18: THE ICY GRIP

  CHAPTER 19: FREE FALL

  CHAPTER 20: LIFE DEBT

  CHAPTER 21: PLANS OF MERIT

  CHAPTER 22: THE LIGHT WIELDER

  CHAPTER 23: TRACKERS

  CHAPTER 24: COUNCIL

  GLOSSARY OF CHARACTERS AND LOCATIONS

  GLOSSARY BY LAND OR RACE

  GLOSSARY OF MAPS

  PROLOGUE

  A loud crack echoed through the lower hallways of the Hold. Sergeant Haygin’s head spun and his eyes narrowed.

  “Who goes there?” barked the sergeant.

  No reply. A few moments later the sound repeated. Haygin’s face reddened. He was unaccustomed to being ignored within the confines of the Zodrian military installation. Out in the field, colonels and generals led the Guard, but in the Hold, training sergeants like Haygin were all-powerful. Even the General Staff refused to countermand orders given by the small corps of military instructors.

  Haygin turned and marched down the hallway through the guttering torchlight. The lower level of the Hold should be deserted at this hour. The exhausted recruits usually adjourned to their cramped quarters on the upper levels after a weary day of training. Most were happily snoozing in their bunks. The lower level was a storehouse for provisions and armaments and deemed off limits in the evening.

  Ahead, the hall turned left and followed the foundations of the massive structure. Haygin scowled as he turned the corner. A figure dressed in the green uniform of a recruit stood before a heavy, black door nearly two dozen yards from Haygin. The sergeant was unable to discern the recruit’s features, but one thing was certain, this soldier wandered through a restricted area after hours.

  “You there!” barked Haygin. “State your name and business!”

  The recruit shot a glance at Haygin, then dashed toward a stairwell at the far end of the hall.

  “Halt!” shouted the sergeant.

  The recruit reached the hall’s end and disappeared into the stairwell. Haygin clenched his teeth and his face purpled. The audacity of these new recruits infuriated him. All these fresh-faced militiamen pouring in from the South caused difficulty enough, but their inability to respect the chain of command was too much.

  Haygin found himself trotting forward after a man who should have stopped dead in his tracks at the command of a staff sergeant. He reached the stairs and heard echoing footfalls as the recruit escaped to the passages above.

  “You will find the devil come for you in the morning, young man!” shouted Haygin shaking a fist up the stairwell. “When I discover which one of the recruits was out of quarters this night, then I will have you! Trust me, extra work detail will be the least of your punishments …”

  Both the footfalls and the echoes of Haygin’s threat faded into the darkness. Whoever the lad was, he would find himself bound to the whipping post by midday. A dozen lashes before the company of the Hold would certainly cure any more after hours escapades.

  Haygin let his emotions settle, sighed and turned back to the hallway from whence he came. He couldn’t really blame the soldier. Rations were low and the recruits were worked hard. This wasn’t the first time a recruit was found scrounging for an extra bit of food or drink. You might think word would spread that all provisions were kept under lock and key.

  Haygin strolled past the heavy, black door. A thick padlock hung through an iron hasp. All appeared to be in order. The sergeant stifled a yawn. He was as exhausted as the soldiers he spent all day training and even his ire moments ago couldn’t banish the fatigue that weighed him down.

  He even chuckled as he stepped away from the shuttered storeroom. That fool recruit not only earned himself a lashing on the morrow, but his efforts were in vain. This room didn’t even contain food stores. They were kept in much larger rooms on the opposite side of the Hold. This small room held only a minor cache of armaments. In a building whose occupants were hungry but armed to the teeth, that recruit would have been rudely awakened when the fruits of his trespass turned out to be crossbows and shields.

  Haygin frowned and continued his nightly inspection of the Hold. He was a good soldier and had taken it upon himself years ago to complete a nightly inspection of the Hold’s cavernous foundation. Others thought him foolish to waste his time in such a way. The Hold was impregnable and her lower hallway probably the safest locale in the Nearing World.

  Haygin allowed his compatriots to snigger at his expense. His real reason for these nightly inspections was solitude. The life of a soldier is anything but solitary. Every so often a man needs to be alone with his thoughts. Haygin found that time every night as he strolled the lower halls.

  Every night, that is, until tonight. Haygin turned and glared at the storeroom door.

  “Fool.” Grumbled the old sergeant. “That bit of grub you attempted to pilfer will cost you dearly, young man.”

  Haygin turned back and stomped toward the stairwell leading to his quarters, his nightly routine ruined and his ire rising once more. As the sergeant rounded the landing and trudged up toward the main floor, a figure in green slid back down the opposite stairwell and crept toward the black door.

  CHAPTER 1: REUNITED

  Towers stretched into the sky wherever you looked. In some places arching causeways connected these towers. People strolled from one building to the next above Kael’s head. The buildings were massive. The group rode past a structure that easily could have contained all of his hometown of Kelky. Kael gazed in wonder.

  “The Zodrians are obsessed by size and stature.” smiled Teeg.

  Kael looked to the old Elf and noticed him smiling in Kael’s direction.

  “In Luxlor, we prefer to harmonize with our surroundings.” continued Teeg. “If you love a place so dearly that you wish to make it your home, why change it so dramatically once you settle
there? Here in Zodra, it is all about change. Pound more mortar and stone onto what exists and it must become better. That is the mindset of the Zodrian.”

  “It certainly is impressive.” replied Kael staring at the towers above.

  “Tis true the architecture is impressive, but what about the city?” asked Teeg.

  “What do you mean?” questioned Kael. “I just said it was impressive.”

  “You called the architecture impressive.” returned Teeg. “However, architecture is not a city. Take your eyes from the dizzying heights. The towers were put there by men and women of power and wealth to draw your attention. Now open your eyes to the city.”

  Kael furrowed his brow and cast his eyes about the city streets as the group trotted on. At first he simply noticed the same crowds he had seen when his troop entered the city gates and Udas confronted them. Working men and women going about their business. Children, attending to chores or playing. Then he slowly recognized more. These people weren’t like his neighbors in Kelky. There was something different. Hopelessness permeated their actions. A joyless quality even hung over the children playing in the streets. A pall of despair washed over the entire city.

  Kael also noticed a difference in the dress and cleanliness of the city. The towers above spoke of order and power. The city streets showed squalor and disarray. Garbage lay piled in front of the doors closest the street. The citizen’s wore tattered and dirty clothing.

  “These people have a .... a hunger.” commented Kael.

  Teeg furrowed his brow questioningly.

  “Not a real hunger.” continued Kael searching for the right words. “A sort of hunger of the mind, not the body. They need something, I just can’t put my finger on it.”

  “Hope.” rumbled Granu’s voice from beneath his black cowl. “It is the same in Keltar. The enemy wears down our reserve. He makes all seem hopeless, and in so doing heightens our despair. A people in the throws of despair are their own worst enemy. As I said to the Zodrian prince, we are in a war not only for lives, but also for the hearts and souls of our people.”

  “How do you fight for someone's heart?” questioned Kael.

  “That is anyone’s guess.” replied Granu pointing toward Manfir . “But I think the Zodrian is headed in the right direction.”

  Kael looked ahead to the black stallion as it cantered down the street. Manfir sat atop the huge beast with his head held high. His burnished breastplate glinted in the fading sunlight. The Zodrian prince radiated power and confidence. As Manfir rode on, some Zodrians sneered at him and turned away. However, some greeted him with respect and honor. The former were always ignored and the latter were always greeted in return.

  “When the people have lost hope,” continued Granu. “They look to a leader to regain their strength. To show weakness now would be a crucial error.”

  The road turned and Kael faced a massive stone block in the center of a huge square.

  “The Hold awaits gentlemen!” called Manfir over his shoulder.

  Kael reined in and stared at the huge, five story building a hundred yards in front of him. Great blocks of granite were expertly fitted to one another to create a smooth, nearly flawless wall. No windows opened to the square and no foothold could be found on the structure. The wall rose to a series of notched battlements. Kael looked to his left and followed the wall’s path for nearly two hundred yards. It stayed true to the outline of the square, remaining approximately one hundred yards from the nearest building. Kael turned to his right and the impression was identical.

  Manfir continued on and approached the only opening in the wall. A pair of massive iron doors were welded to a thick frame, which in turn bolted into the wall of the Hold. The doors lay open and two guards stood at attention brandishing eight foot pikes. Manfir halted in front of the guards. Immediately, the pair saluted the prince.

  “Gentlemen, please inform the sergeant on duty that Prince Manfir requires a billet for himself and six guests of the crown.” stated Manfir.

  Instantly, one of the guards saluted, turned and disappeared through the iron doors. Momentarily, a replacement took up station in his stead. The group dismounted while they waited. Manfir strolled over to Kael.

  “Quite an impressive structure, eh Kael?” commented Manfir smiling proudly.

  “Yes, indeed.” replied the Southlander timidly. “It is rather ...uh... sparse however.”

  “What do you mean?” frowned the prince.

  “Well, it’s just a big block of rock. No ornament. No design. Not even a window.” stated Kael.

  “Not every structure can carry the whimsy and imagination of the palace of Luxlor, Kael.” said Manfir and he smiled toward Eidyn.

  The Elf bowed and flourished a hand.

  “We are a cursed people.” smirked Eidyn. “Able to extract beauty from even the most useful of items.”

  “The Hold serves its purpose well.” returned Manfir. “Our ancestors built it as a training ground and the last line of defense for their people. It is impenetrable.”

  “Ah, the Almar Ring around the palace of Luxlor serves as our last line of defense.” returned Eidyn. “But to look upon such beauty is to truly feel peace and tranquility.”

  “I cannot contest the pure beauty of the Almar grove, Eidyn, but if my enemy is poised to strike me down I would rather he stare into the teeth of something as formidable as the Hold.” stated Manfir.

  A broad smile broke across Eidyn’s face and he turned to Kael.

  “You learn a valuable lesson here today, Kael.” laughed Eidyn. “You can sum up the character differences between the Zodrian and the Grey Elf through their architecture.”

  Kael cocked his head sideways and furrowed his brow.

  “Pardon?” asked Kael.

  Eidyn held up a finger asking Kael for a moment. He lightly spun in a circle in front of Kael. The Elven prince then turned and walked over to Manfir. Eidyn swept a hand up and down Manfir.

  “What do you see here, Kael?” smiled Eidyn.

  “You and Prince Manfir.” stated Kael in confusion.

  “But what do you see here? Just describe it.”

  “Two men.” began Kael. “One tall and one short. One powerfully built and the other slight. One armored and bound in leather. The other simply cloaked and robed. One heavily armed, with several swords and daggers strapped to his body. On the other I see no weapons.”

  “Excellent!” proclaimed Eidyn. “Manfir is the Hold, and I am Luxlor. If you were forced to attack one of us, which would it be?”

  Kael hesitated and turned red. He shifted on his feet.

  “Come, come, Kael. It is simply a mental exercise.” laughed Eidyn. “No offense will be taken.”

  “Well, I cannot truly answer. I would rather attack neither of you. In both cases I would be hopelessly overmatched.”

  “Let us say that you are a vagabond, a thief.” said Eidyn. “You lie await on a roadside watching. You possess no knowledge of either Prince Manfir or myself other than what you see. Now, which of us would you rather attack?”

  “Well, that is easy.” said Kael. “I would rather attack you.”

  “Excellent choice!” bellowed Teeg.

  The entire group roared in laughter.

  “Of course you would.” continued Eidyn. “I am a man of smaller stature, unprotected and apparently unarmed. To attack Manfir would be ludicrous. Now, tell me this. If forced to attack both of us at different times. Which would you take more seriously? Which would you prepare more for? Which of us would require you to fire your courage more? Again, answer as the thief.”

  “Manfir.” stated Kael. “I would look upon you as more of a diversion than a real threat.”

  ”Absolutely!” exclaimed Eidyn. “You make my point exquisitely! The Elf avoids making you an enemy. The Zodrian dares you to become one. ”

  Manfir bowed to the Elven prince.

  “A point well taken.” stated Manfir. “But I prefer the Zodrian way.”

  “S
uperbly taught.” said Teeg. “I dare say I may have become obsolete in this company!”

  The group broke into laughter. They were cut off by the return of the guard.

  “Sergeant Brelg bids you welcome home Prince Manfir and has three rooms awaiting you on the ground level, east wing.” stated the guard. “The sergeant is in the training yard drilling some new recruits. He will join you shortly. These recruits will look after your mounts. I will lead you to your rooms.”

  Three young men in green tunics sprang from the doorway and gathered in the reins of the wayfarer’s horses. The third of the group was unlucky enough to step up to Ader and Manfir. He stared uneasily at Tarader and Manfir’s black stallion. Ader smiled at the young man.

  “Attend to the Black, my boy.” smiled Ader. “You will need all your strength to deal with him. The gray will follow the others at his leisure.”

  The recruit swallowed hard and grabbed the reins of Manfir’s stallion. The beast snorted and threw its head, yanking hard on the leather straps. The members of the group retrieved their belongings from the packs fastened to their mounts. Manfir saluted the guards and strode through the iron doors of the Hold, following his escort.

  Kael followed the prince down a long, wide corridor lit by guttering torches. After ten strides a side passage opened to the left and the right. Ahead, the corridor continued for another ten strides and opened into the light of a huge inner courtyard. Kael barely discerned men in green tunics performing various battle exercises throughout the yard. Manfir turned down the right corridor. Kael hesitated then wandered forward toward the yard.

  “Kael.” said Ader softly. “Brelg is busy. He will see you momentarily. You won’t need to wait long.”

  Kael looked to the Seraph. Ader held his hand out. He smiled and waved the boy over. Kael’s shoulders fell and he slowly approached Ader. The Guide threw his arm around the boy’s shoulder and drew him in.

  “I’ll tell you a little about the Hold while we wait.” smiled Ader.

  The pair followed their companions down the corridor.