Black Kerthon's Doom Read Free

food. He looked for his Master. The massive stone chair appeared empty but Scithers sensed the presence near the rotted tapestries. He bowed. A shimmering form appeared to hover over the throne and it raised its arms. Scithers nodded in understanding. It was time. He felt the slices of air crease his skin exposing the rotting flesh. Black blood oozed out of the wounds, more and more as the biting wind ripped him to shreds. He trembled at each exquisite throb of pain, remembering life, how it was to be alive, and how it felt to die. Spasms racked his bleeding body. The pooling blood was lifted up by the wind, its voices screaming in agony and pleasure, and Scithers remembered how it once had been and hoped again for his master's will to control him. The encompassing will of Kerthon. The shape near the throne began to take on substance, if only for a brief time. The eyes glowed with pleasure and Scithers knew his master was pleased. Then blackness consumed him.
     
    The High King did not speak. He tried to think it through. His thoughts were muddled and that was unusual, giving weight to Daura's statements. Was it possible? He did seem a bit confused these past weeks. Would they be so bold?
    "Are you positive?" he asked. He lost his appetite, momentarily. He sounded so uncertain, he felt his control slipping. It would be seen as a weakness.
    "I have no doubts," said Daura de Arayr, cousin to the High King. "Prosty is drugging your drinks."
    "Why would the wizard do that?" He was thinking furiously. Did they not follow his commands? He still made decisions didn't he? How can this be turned to his advantage? What damage has already been done? Can he reverse it?
    "I do not know. I only know that I saw him do it once and heard Kaell and Prosty mention it one other time."
    "Those wizards. I don't know why I thought I needed their service."
    "Perhaps they enchanted you," said Daura. She was fascinated by the High King's attempts to clear his mind. He was obvious angry with himself for the questions he was asking but he could not yet control himself. It was good that their meeting was not public.
    "No. It was my own folly. I have no magic of my own and I wanted the prestige of wizards in my court as our forefathers enjoyed. Now, what can I do? I am not ready to call them out. They would be too powerful for me alone. I wonder." He reached for a sweetmeat.
    They sat in the High King's chamber at Lord Isnal's home in Rhath. The High King had been weary from his trip and Prosty had left a tonic for him as usual. The High King had become quite fond of them. He wasn't particularly thrilled with Daura's news because it was two edged. Despite the fact that Daura had always supported him, she was Gareth's sister. The High King had always overlooked that relationship, but the two had been very close when they were young, causing the High King to doubt the story Daura had told. On the other hand, the wizards were not entirely trustworthy. Was there no one he could trust?
    "How can I trust you?"
    "I do not understand," said Daura. "I have nothing to gain."
    "But Gareth does. I do not believe you are unsympathetic to your brother's goals despite the good help you have been at court. The wizards trouble both me and you, but the reasons are different I think. I thank you for helping me see what they are up to, but I feel I should be keeping a closer watch on you as well. Gareth has something to gain in this, and I will find the answer."
    "As you wish."
    "Indeed."
    "What will you do about the wizards?"
    "I will figure something out," said the High King. "First, I must let them think I am still under their spell. What to do with this vile potion?"
    "Just wait until Prosty is gone and then throw it out. He'll never know."
    "That's right. He usually leaves it for me and goes on his way. That's just what I'll do." He pondered how to execute them without damaging what has been accomplished with their help? He dismissed Daura with a wave of his hand, the