They followed without question, almost as silent as the shadow that haunted him. After a short distance, they came upon a clearing where an ancient ruin lay in crumbling majesty. It was a collection of bluish stone, once stacked and arrayed in a perfect circle. Over time some of the stones had toppled, while others leaned against each other. Yet no animals had taken refuge there; no weeds had overrun it. It had been abandoned since the Age of Chaos, long forgotten. Stravaholme was only leagues away, but the crumbling ruins were nearly as important.
Valdemar anticipated this moment, yet for an instant he felt an almost irrepressible urge to flee. He closed his eyes, battling the terror that tortured his senses. Great power resonated there. Great power — and powerful malevolence. Even the unflappable Dragonists shifted uncomfortably at his side.
Darroth's voice rasped from the shadows, low enough for Valdemar's ears alone to hear. "Is a son of mine to be held fast by fear? Will you let greatness pass you because you chose cowardice at the most crucial point?"
Valdemar opened his eyes.
"Stay here." He stepped into the circle of towering stone, where a cylinder-shaped slab was positioned in the center. An engraving of a sphere within a circle was etched into the surface.
"Do you know what it is you gaze upon?"
The woman that spoke stood a few yards away, cloaked in black. Her long wind-blown hair was the same lustrous brown as her eyes, and her lips full and lovely. He knew her as Masiki, the High Lady who had aided his ascension in exchange for his unquestioning obedience.
She motioned to the engraving. "It is the sign of the Guelph, forsaken and forgotten. We represent order in chaos. Shifting parts that act in accord with one thought. It is this enlightenment that will counter the disorder and confusion that governs your world."
She was shadowed by unnaturally tall skeletal figures, cloaked in billowing robes so white that they shimmered almost blindingly. Unearthly light flashed from their empty eye sockets.
Valdemar prostrated himself before the sign, and before his mistress.
She bade him to rise. "My guardians are the Eidolon. They have served my master ages before the akhkharu existed. Most do not know of them, but many secrets have been revealed to me since I chose to follow this path."
She gestured to the surrounding stone towers. "Much has been forgotten that should not have, like the Banestone. This place was forged from the most powerful Elious as a testament to their skill, but in the end it was the one place where their powers could betray them and imprison them forever. Many screams of the mighty have reverberated in this place. Many who were powerful were laid low right here, where we stand." Her lips curved in a mysterious smile. "Things have changed since my agents last spoke to you. Our plans will have to change with them."
"Will we advance our forces into Leodia at last?" He sounded too eager, he knew. But he didn't care.
She smiled. "So impatient to shed blood? Your people proudly relate that you have never lost a battle."
"I do not allow myself the opportunity of losing." Valdemar couldn't keep the pride from his voice. "For me, every battle is victory or death."
"A fool's creed. And one that will grant you just that — death. You will have to abandon such useless notions if you expect to rise to the rank of Tyro and join the cabal of the Guelph."
Valdemar bowed. "Whatever you command I will do, Great Masiki."
She flashed her beautiful smile again. "I know you will. The ambition that burns within you will allow you to do nothing else. Nonetheless, I must keep you leashed tightly. Make sure you stay here, on the border of the Dragonspine until I need you. I do not wish you betraying our long-laid plans in any useless and untimely skirmishes."
Valdemar ground his teeth. "What exactly are we waiting on, Mistress?"
"Opportunity. A Reaver has been reborn into the world, and has worried King Alaric enough to summon Yanus."
"A Reaver." Valdemar contemplated the impossible development. What he knew was only archaic legend, but even so… "From what I have heard, Yanus is almost as bad as a Reaver."
"Indeed." Masiki did not seem perturbed at all. "Who could have foreseen Marcellus Admorran would come to such power? With so many forces coming into play, it would be foolish to throw ourselves into things just yet. We will wait to see how things play out. With luck, our enemies will destroy themselves. When the dust clears, we will act against whatever forces are left standing."
Valdemar silently fumed. Marcellus is a Reaver? Impossible. Yet he knew Masiki would not lie. His mood darkened. Marcellus. It always comes back to him. "I do not see how Marcellus can destroy the king of the Co'nane. He was not wise enough to sense his betrayal, and would have died at my hands had he not escaped."
Masiki's expression became amused. "Had I not freed him, you mean?"
For a moment he was stunned to silence. "I…do not understand, Mistress."
"Marcellus was chosen for great things, much more than igniting a simple war. He could not accomplish those things while in your clutches. It was imperative that he survived. Do you really think his throw of that shield was all skill? Or that he could leap across that chasm without aid?"
Heat smoldered in Valdemar's chest. "It was you who struck me? And helped him to fly out of my reach?"
"Not I. I merely gave the order. Among your commanders was Gile Noman, another of my Acolytes. He was my eye on your activities at the time. You were unaware that he was of the Guelph, of course. A simple focus of Transference was enough to tilt the thrown shield just so, as well as give Marcellus the push he needed to make it to the other side of the canyon. One of our assassins sent to kill the Shama nearly slew Marcellus by accident, but he managed to survive that too. The Shama fortified him in ways that attracted Leilavin of all people."
Masiki laughed. "And Leilavin transformed him into a Reaver. Circumstances could not have gone more perfectly. Such a fortunate chain of events."
Valdemar felt the heat rise from his chest to his face. He remembered Gile Noman well. He was one of the few foreign commanders Valdemar had employed, and the very person who delivered Marcellus from the battlefield. Gile had been a capable leader, but Valdemar never truly trusted him. His suspicions were confirmed when he found out Gile served Masiki with orders of his own. Orders that undermined Valdemar's own plans.
"You betrayed me. All I have done was in service to you, and you turned your hand against me."
Masiki lifted an eyebrow. "The need took precedence over your soiled pride. You would never have freed the man voluntarily, so I had him taken from you. As a leader of men, you should know that your servants are tools. The tool does not dictate how or why it is used. The master does. Or in your case, the mistress. Do not forget yourself, or your usefulness will be at an end. You will do whatever you are commanded to do."
"As you say, Mistress." He bowed low so she could not see the fire burn in his eyes.
"Take this." She handed him an orb small enough to hold in the palm of his hand. It was much heavier than it appeared, and was the purplish color of a night sky. "The cryptorb will open the passage in Stravaholme. See that you await my word before you make use of it."
He suppressed his excitement as his fingers closed around the cryptorb. Finally, a talisman of power in my possession. "I will patiently await your command, Mistress."
"Then go. I will summon you again when I need you."
Valdemar returned to the forest, where his men waited for his command. When he turned, Masiki was barely visible. She had her back to him and seemed to gaze at something. Or…someone.