Legends from The Warlock's Chair - Book One - Ravengaard

Chapter Six - Sildo Gweir's secret

An oversight by the alliance.

She would seek them out and do his bidding. 

Only then, when he was returned and once again in control of his world, would she discover a way to weaken his hold on her. When he least expected it, she would take revenge for all the dreadful years of agonizing pain and suffering he had caused her. 

When she was young, the idea of learning the darker side of the sorcerous arts had appealed to her. She lived in the shadows of her overprotective mother, older sister and their white magic for too long. They offered their services to anyone who desired them. She had tired of the endless compassion and overwhelming generosities for which reward was neither asked for nor received.

They had lived a frugal life, living off the forest and what they grew in their garden. Scarcely surviving, when they could have had power and riches more befitting their status. There must be another way she had thought, one which would yield her the rewards she craved. So she had taught herself the ways of black magic. Secretly at first, but has she learned and grew more confident in their use, she had started to experiment with her newfound powers.

The magic secured her the influence and treasure she desired. But it also brought sadness. Her family had rejected her when they found out. They had talked, tried to reason with her, desperately turn her from the dark path she had chosen. But it was of no use, the dark magic had tightened its grip on her mind and body. Time passed and as she slipped farther into the darkness, she found she no longer cared about them or others around her. She had the ability to do and take what she needed and that was all that mattered. But that greed was soon to be her undoing.

Her command of the dark sorcery soon brought her to the notice of others with a deep abhorrence of its unauthorised use. A bounty was placed on her head and it drew the attention of witch hunters. They used magic of their own to subdue her and bring her before the local magistrates. They had found her guilty of course. Most of the surrounding population had come forward to testify, such was their burning hatred for her. The sentence, unendurable death by fire, was to be carried out immediately. 

She had cursed them, swearing vengeance on all who had dared bear witness against her. It was then that Ravengaard had sent his minions to rescue her and bring her to him. He had offered her much to join him in his quest to subjugate all the nations of the earth, to place them under his domination. 

She soon earned a place among his closest acolytes. He had taught her much. Soon she had the use of more powerful magic and a greater control over it. Ravengaard's army was now at her disposal and she soon employed it to wreak havoc on those that sought to destroy her. She took great pleasure in carrying out much of the slaughtering herself. But there had been a downside to her pact with him. She unwittingly found herself bound to him with magic. Somehow he had cast a spell that caused unimaginable pain or even death should she even think about escape or killing him. 

 With his army at the forefront of the war against the Elves and their allies, he became an influential member of the Council of Humanity. The war was going well, the Elves were on the verge of a crushing defeat, hunted down and forced back into their forest hideaways. 

But the remainder of the Council found out about Ravengaard's treachery. That once he had defeated and enslaved the Faerie Folk, he meant to turn his army inwards and wrest control of all the lands from the Council. Fearful that he had the power to carry out his threat the Council had sought an alliance with the Elves. Together they managed to defeat the Warlock and banish him.

Now, trapped in the Evermurk with him, she seethed with anger at her own foolishness. Blaming Ravengaard for her ails. She had been drawn in by his foolish promises of relentless power and excessive wealth and once again allowed greed to overcome caution. She promised herself, that should she ever succeed in escaping, things would be different the next time. And so it was, that with the weakening of the barrier she had been able to once again walk the world she had known long ago. But it was an altogether different world now. One where magic and the Faerie Races were all but forgotten. A world ripe for picking, for someone with her talents. She had considered staying, leaving the Warlock to rot in his hell. But even trapped in the Evermurk, his reach was long. There were others who he would send after her and she did not wish to spend a lifetime looking over her shoulder for him or one of his assassins. Therefore she had returned to him, kept him informed of the search for the children and the spells.

She would bide her time, find a way of breaking the spell that tied her to him. She had spent a lifetime trapped with the Warlock, she could endure awhile longer. 

Wait until the opportune moment to make her move. 

Caranaxus walked the shadowy corridors and stairwells, moving ever downwards until she was deep in the catacombs that lay beneath the keep. It was uncomfortably warm, the air thick with the smell of rot and dampness. 

She approached a stout wooden door with rusted hinges. A Goblyn guarded the entrance. It stepped aside as she neared, produced a set of keys and unlocking the door. With a squeal of protest, it swung open at her touch. A short flight of steps led down into a large dimly lit room. Torches set into wall brackets produced a haze of smoke which hung lazily in the air projecting deep shadows into every nook and cranny of the room. 

It was dominated by stacks of books and paper, every exposed wall and dark recess was piled high with them. Gnomes scampered about the shelving, scaling ladders, shifting the piles from one place to another.

Frantically searching.

They had been undertaking the same thing for as long as she could remember. Long before his banishment, Ravengaard's minions had captured them and put them to work in this infernal keep. Now, they too found themselves trapped in this timeless place, helping search for a way back.

In the centre of the room, several large, heavy wooden tables, were strewn with papers. Books of all sizes lay open and spread across the tops. Half a dozen hunched Gnomes sat at the tables, grubby fingers pawing over the lines of text as they furtively studied the scripts before them.

'Have you found anything yet,' she snapped at the nearest figure.

Sildo Gweir looked up, the torchlight glinting off the small round glasses perched on the end of his nose. Tattered clothing hung from his skeletal frame and drool ran from his toothless gums dripping into his stained wispy beard.

'N-N-Nothing yet Mistress,' he stammered.

It is here somewhere, she thought.

They had been searching non-stop for many, many months and discovered nothing. But it was here, she knew it. Somewhere in this vast library of battered dusty books and parchment lay a counterspell to the magic that had imprisoned them. An ancient spell that even Ravengaard, with all his arcane knowledge, did not possess. 

'Keep looking. The master grows impatient,' Caranaxus spat at the little old Gnome. 'A reward for the one who uncovers it,' she stressed.

He flinched, his crooked nose practically touching the yellowed piece of parchment he was trying to decipher.

'Yes mistress,' Sildo Gweir said almost inaudibly.

'I shall be in my quarters if you find anything.' 

With a final glance around the room, she turned and left.

Behind her, Sildo Gweir looked up from the pages he had been reading. He peered across at the others. A crooked smile formed on his thin, dry lips.

'Reward or not, the hag is sorely mistaken if she thinks we will help with their return, hey, my brothers, we would rather die here than help them return.'

The others silently nodded their agreement. 

 The spell had been located a while ago. But they had maintained the pretence of searching for it. As long as breath remained in their bodies, it would remain concealed from Caranaxus' grasp. 

But Sildo did not notice that one among them did not appear so convinced. The Gnome called Urien Hir hunched deeper into his shabby chair. A glint of a plan starting to form in his mind.