A Darkness at Sethanon (Riftware Sage Book 3)

Then Tomas’s blade lashed out and the dread who sought to close upon Macros was rent and cried in whispering rage, spinning to face his adversary. He howled and ripped out with his talons. Golden sparks rippled along the front of Tomas’s shield as he blocked the strike.

 

Ryath’s blue eyes glowed, turning angry red, and suddenly the dread that was holding her arm shrieked. Foul grey smoke rose from the unliving’s hand, but he seemed unable to release his hold. The dragon woman’s eyes continued to glow and she stood motionless, with only a slight trembling in her body. The dread seemed to be shrinking, its whispering cries reduced to a reedy fluting.

 

Pug finished an incantation and the third dread was seized by some sort of fit. He arched backward and his black wings quivered as he fell to the stones of the Hall. Then he rose upward, Pug’s slight hand motion the only sign he was using his arts upon the creature. Pug gestured and the creature was moved to a place between worlds, vanishing into the grey void.

 

Tomas struck out again and again and the dread he faced fell back. Each time the golden sword bit into the black nothingness, hissing energies were released. Now the thing appeared weakened and it sought to escape. Tomas thrust with his blade, impaling the dread as it tried to flee, holding it motionless.

 

While Pug watched, Ryath and Tomas disposed of the two remaining dread, somehow draining them of their life essences, as the dread suck out the life of others.

 

Pug moved to where Macros lay stunned. He helped the sorcerer to his feet and asked, “Are you injured?”

 

Macros cleared his head with a shake and said, “Not to any degree. Those creatures can be difficult for a mortal, but I’ve dealt with them before. That they were stationed before this door shows that the Valheru fear what aid we may bring to Midkemia. If Murmandamus reaches Sethanon and finds the Lifestone . . . well, the dread are but a faint shadow of the destruction that will be unleashed.”

 

Tomas said, “How far to Midkemia?”

 

“That door.” Macros pointed to the one opposite the one they entered. “Through it and we are home.”

 

 

 

 

 

They entered a vast hall, cold and empty. It was fashioned from massive stones, fitted together by master crafters. A single throne reared above the hall upon a dais, and along both walls deep recesses were set, as if ready to receive statuary.

 

The four walked forward, and Pug said, “It is chilly here. Where upon Midkemia are we?”

 

Macros seemed mildly amused. “We are in the fortress city Sar-Sargoth.”

 

Tomas spun about to face the sorcerer. “Are you mad? This is the ancient capital of the original Murmandamus. I know that much of the moredhel lore!”

 

Macros said, “Calm yourself. They are all down invading the Kingdom. Should any moredhel or goblins be hanging about, they’ll certainly be deserters. No, we can dispose of any obstacles here. It is at Sethanon we must be ready to deal with the ultimate challenge.”

 

He led them outside, and Pug faltered. Arrayed in every direction were stakes of a uniform ten feet in height. Atop each was a human head. Perhaps as many as a thousand stretched away in every direction. Pug whispered, “Heaven’s pity, but how can such evil exist?”

 

“This, then, completes your understanding,” answered Macros. Looking at his three companions, he said, “There was a time Ashen-Shugar would have thought this nothing more than an object lesson.”

 

Tomas glanced about, and nodded absent agreement.

 

Tomas, as Ashen-Shugar, can remember a time when no moral issues existed in the universe. There was no thoughts of right or wrong, only of might. And in that universe all other races were of similar mind, save the Aal, and their view of things was odd even by the standards of those days. Murmandamus is a tool, and he resembles his masters.

 

“And beings far less evil than Murmandamus have done far worse than this one wanton act. But they do so with some knowledge of their deeds relative to a higher moral principle. The Valheru don’t understand good and evil; they are totally amoral, but they are so destructive we must count them a near-ultimate evil. And Murmandamus is their servant, so he is also evil. And he is but the palest shadow to their darkness.” Macros sighed. “It may be only my vanity, but the thought I fight such evil . .. it lightens my burdens.”

 

Pug took a deep breath as he gained further insight into the tormented soul who sought to preserve all Pug held dear. At last he said, “Where to? Sethanon?”

 

Macros said, “Yes. We must go and discover what has come to pass, and with luck we shall be able to help. No matter what, Murmandamus must not be allowed to reach the Lifestone. Ryath?”

 

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