Black Kerthon's Doom Read Free Page B

that brought him to Nantitet. An intellect like his cannot long endure the petty intrigues of government. Power, power such as Kerthon wielded that was destined to be Prosty's power, not political power
    Prosty's quest had now run seven years and he accumulated much knowledge during that time. Certainly, his skill was far superior to Kaell's. He oversaw their political maneuverings, but he had little patience for them. He wanted to learn about magic and Kerthon's in particular. A king, a man, became the greatest sorcerer in the history of the world within a few short years. Somewhere laid the source of Kerthon's power and he would find it.
    The slender wizard deftly turned the pages with his bony hands. The few spells he uncovered were not of merit. Old wives' remedies mostly, and he knew almost all of them. The others were really only variations on earlier spells and nothing, nothing to waste his time on. He was in an older wing of Isnal's home and had received permission to look for old manuscripts that might reveal some of the history of the west. At least that was the story he used. He was searching for books of magic. Kerthon's books of magic. There is a source for all magic and Prosty knew even Kerthon had learned it from somewhere. It was said that Kerthon's vast library had been stolen from the tower before it was burned and the library's current location was unknown. Prosty wanted to reach Castle Moorld one day and search every room. Moorld too, was in ruins, cursed by Kerthon even as he fled. The dust would be thick in those corridors, thought Prosty.
     
    Kaell found him in this room, his head buried in a book heedless of all else. Kaell watched him with a sneer on his lips, wishing he had the courage to sink a knife in the exposed back of his partner. He looked around the room and found nothing to interest him. He spat on the floor. Prosty did not turn around.
    "Ah, Kaell, by the sound. Welcome to my little hideaway. There is quite a lot of information for a patient researcher. Pick up a book and browse through history."
    "I do not think so. Your hobby is distracting you from our goal. I am not sure your potions are keeping the High King under our influence. He seems to have a lot to say. Especially to Daura."
    "There is no problem. You need something to settle your nerves. Shall I prepare something for you?"
    "Your humor is mislaid, Prosty. I saw Daura come from the High King's quarters. She was very uncooperative. I think she is plotting with the High King. I tried to get her to tell me what she was doing and she pushed me aside."
    "Are you surprised? You constantly harass her and there isn't anything about you that is particularly attractive."
    Kaell was speechless for a moment. "I will not stand for your insults! You treat me like an inferior. I come up with the plans and you take them over as if they were yours. You start the plans rolling and then you disappear and I find you reading books. I do not understand."
    "That is obvious," said Prosty. He put down his book and stood up. "You have no grasp of subtlety. You could not complete the tasks you design. They must be allowed to gather their own speed. Patience. Without me you are nothing."
    "I warn you, Prosty. One day you will go too far. And I will kill you."
    "Your power is pitiful. Now leave me before I expose you as the fraud you are."
    Kaell's face stretched into a grimace and he was shaking with rage. His knuckles were white and he opened his mouth but no sound came out. He turned and fled.
    Prosty looked out at the moon and smiled.
     
    The moonlight glowed through the branches overhead creating a surreal atmosphere where everything seemed to move slowly without sound. The rebels had relaxed. It had been an hour since their last encounter with the soldiers and they had hidden their trail well. Gareth did not want to return directly to their main camp in case they were followed. They wound their trail through ravines, rocky slopes and through deep