Читать книгу The Vlishgnath Chronicles - Daniel Mitchell - Страница 15

Episode 9

As Vlishgnath gradually returned to consciousness, his mind still groggy and his eyes refusing to open, a set of voices grew less and less muffled until they finally became discernible.

“...the ones I mentioned the other day. The one in the middle there, he’s the one that almost spotted me.”

The first voice was answered by a second, older sounding voice. “Wretched knights and their insufferable conviction to their ‘ideals’. Would it be safe to assume the rest are waiting for them back in Drenton?”

The reply came from a third, sounding young like the first, but not as deep in pitch and much more enunciated. “If religious military history has taught me anything, it is that the church of Mithos is laughably predictable. When these three don’t return, they’ll keep sending more, gradually increasing the size of the search parties until eventually an entire column of them is knocking down our door.”

The second voice spoke again. “It doesn’t matter. With the sacrifice of Vincent, the ritual is complete. All we need to do is disassemble the portal to ensure they don’t—”

The first voice interrupted suddenly. “Silence! The middle one is awakening, Father. It would be wise to be gone when they awaken; Alexander’s lightning bolt didn’t finish them off, it seems.”

The third voice spoke once more as the sound of hurried footsteps led them away. “It wasn’t meant to.”

Several minutes passed before Vlishgnath was able to coax his muscles to respond to his mental commands to move. At around the same time, Maximus slowly sat up to his left, growling and cursing loudly. To his right, Thunderclese rolled over onto his side from his back, groaning and beginning to push himself up off the ground. Lying sprawled out on his stomach, Vlishgnath rolled over onto his back just as Maximus came to hover over him and offer him a hand getting up. With a quick, forceful jolt, Vlishgnath was standing in an instant, and looked around briefly to discover Retribution lying on the ground. He immediately bent to retrieve it.

Thunderclese spoke as he slowly rose from the ground, retrieving his own weapon as he did so. “Someone is going to pay for that.”

Vlishgnath sighed. “They were right here, just a few minutes ago. I could hear them, but I couldn’t yet move.”

“Right here?!” Thunderclese sighed and shook his head. “I’d like to get a hold of whoever set off that lightning bolt. That was just downright rude.”

“You may get your chance. I have an idea of what they intend to do, so now it’s just a matter of figuring out where they’re headed. Let’s check the study.”

The door to the study sitting ajar, Vlishgnath led the other two inside, cautiously pushing the door open this time. Inside was a somewhat standard looking office; a large oak desk sat in the middle, and a bookshelf off to either side was littered with books. A small liquor chest sat in the corner, but no other features stood out in particular.

Maximus went left and Thunderclese right, each sweeping their respective side of the room while Vlishgnath made his way to the desk. After several moments of searching, Vlishgnath and Thunderclese stopped to look at each other.

Thunderclese spoke first to Vlishgnath. “Anything interesting in the desk?”

Vlishgnath shook his head. “Nothing but some old transaction records, and they seem perfectly normal. Anything interesting over there?”

“Only if you’re into boring history texts. It’s like the guy’s hobby was collecting the most drab, uninteresting accounts of the least exciting parts of history he could.”

“What about you, Maximus?”

Maximus didn’t answer but silently continued to study the bookshelf and its contents. Vlishgnath and Thunderclese slowly made their way over, standing off to either side of him to see what was so interesting. For a minute, they got the distinct impression that they were staring at nothing. But then, Maximus suddenly reached out, pushing in one of the books. A loud knocking sound was heard, and the wall behind the desk swung loose to reveal a hidden entrance to a concealed room within the study.

Thunderclese laughed as he spoke. “Nicely done! You know, you’re actually rather perceptive!”

With alarming speed, Maximus rounded on Thunderclese, his big hand reaching out to grab hold of the top of the front of Thunderclese’s breastplate, and pulled him in close, his deep voice sounding dangerous. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Throwing his hands up in a gesture of innocence, Thunderclese’s jovial tone turned worried. “Nothing! I was just—”

But then Maximus let out a single dark chuckle, pushing Thunderclese away from him and moving to investigate the secret room with Vlishgnath. “Relax. I thought you weren’t afraid of me anymore?”

With a sigh of great relief, Thunderclese cursed silently to himself and fell in line.

Behind the revolving wall, the three of them found a smaller room housing an altar. Upon it, the same likeness of a locust that they had seen before stood in the middle in statue form, the walls of the room covered in unholy symbols. A round stone basin stood on a pedestal in front of the altar surrounded by a runic circle.

Carefully stepping up to the basin, Vlishgnath slowly reached out, touching the edge of the stone basin with his fingertips. Instantly, the revolving wall locked shut behind them, the darkened room suddenly bright as the runes transcribed on the walls lit up, shimmering and rotating along the walls as they cast their pale illumination onto the basin. The basin itself slowly filled with what looked to be an insubstantial darkness that quivered like a liquid, yet, looking into it, one could see the nothingness of the abyss.

A shrill whisper echoed throughout the room, causing all three men to look around frantically for a source that was not to be found. “Belphegor demands sacrifice...approach the basin, and make thy sacrifice to the Devourer...”

Vlishgnath quickly jerked his hand away from the basin and jumped back from inside the circle, the room returning to normal and the darkness retreating from inside the basin.

Thunderclese cried out in dismay. “The passage in Lucien’s journal was true! Baron LeFay really has been consorting with demons and such!”

Tenderly rubbing the wrist of his hand that had touched the basin, not out of necessity but concern, Vlishgnath spoke in a grave tone. “Were it only that simple, my friend. I’m afraid this is far worse than any dealing with demons we’ve encountered. We need to find the baron at once and put a stop to this so we can cleanse this house of the evils that dwell within.”

Pushing the revolving wall open with impressive ease, Maximus began to head out of the room as he replied, “Let’s get to it, then.”

“Erm, question...” Thunderclese began slowing his pace as they left the room, and was now looking around the hallways somewhat confusedly.

“Yes?” said Maximus.

“Where exactly are we going?”

Without breaking his stride, Vlishgnath continued toward the stairs leading down to the first floor, speaking loud enough to be heard. “The voice that I’m guessing to be the baron’s mentioned disassembling some kind of portal. Such a construct would be large and fairly obvious, and we didn’t encounter anything like it on either of these floors.”

“So...we’re looking for...”

“The only place left. The basement.”

“Ah! That makes sense. Any idea how to get there?”

“Most of the time a basement is used for keeping stored food cool,” said Vlishgnath. “Food can be brought in straight from the outside, which is why we saw the boarded up entrance when we circled the perimeter. Indoor access in a place like this is usually in the kitchen, so I’m guessing the basement is attached to the main dining hall.”

Nimbly descending the stairs, his feet moving swiftly and gracefully, Thunderclese hurried to catch up, while Maximus made his way down surprisingly quickly for someone his size. Passing through the dining hall, the familiar aroma of rotten food greeted them. They quickly spotted a small wooden door painted white that led into the kitchen.

Walking over and grabbing hold of one of the chairs at the table, Vlishgnath spun around and in one fluid motion hurled it at the kitchen door. Shattering upon impact, the door swung open as another massive bolt of lightning cracked and boomed, this time with the three of them safely out of the way. After a moment, the lightning dissipated and Vlishgnath resumed his purposeful march, pushing his way through the now battered kitchen door, Maximus and Thunderclese keeping pace behind him.

As they entered the kitchen, Vlishgnath gave the order. “Swords.”

All three drew their weapons, Retribution gleaming brightly as if eager to be put to use. Spotting the stairs descending into the basement at the back, Vlishgnath slowed his pace to a cautious approach, stopping once he reached the top to peer down. From the light shed by Retribution, another body could be seen at the bottom, this one lying face down at the foot of the steps with a blood spatter originating from its head.

Descending the steps at a slow pace, Vlishgnath led with the point of Retribution to illuminate the path. At the bottom of the steps, a large storage cellar proved Vlishgnath’s theory correct, running the width of the house and, by their rough estimate, approximately one-fourth as long. They continued to make their way through the maze of large barrels of wine that looked to be older than the three of them combined, when they discovered a large opening at the back of the cellar, which had been somewhat recently carved, or at least recently compared to the rest of the structure.

Stepping through the archway, they found themselves in a long, wide hallway, a series of elegant wooden doors along the walls on their left and right. At the end of the hallway stood a large reinforced iron door. Torches in sconces illuminated the hallway, a total of four doors along each wall to their sides.

Moving toward the first door on the left, Vlishgnath leaned in, listening but hearing nothing. Using his shield, he gently pressed on the door, which gave way and swung open. Inside, a large round canopy bed sat in the middle of a cell-like room, burnt-out candles and wilted rose petals at one time having provided a sort of sultry ambiance.

“Ah, a secret brothel,” Thunderclese blurted out, Vlishgnath and Maximus both turning to look at him at the same time. “What? Oh, don’t even look at me like that! It isn’t like I actually visit them; I’ve just seen the inside of one...or two. It was for an assignment.”

Vlishgnath shook his head, and they continued along the hallway, quietly opening each door. Each room appeared to be the same, until they got to the second to last door along the north-facing wall to their left. Inside, chained to the canopy bed, the near-skeletal figure of a castrated male lay neglected and left to rot.

Vlishgnath turned his head away in disgust, Thunderclese averting his gaze as well as he spoke. “This place is an affront to humanity in general.”

Vlishgnath turned to look upon the iron door, drawing his sword back in a ready position. “Let us cleanse this house of the evils its master has brought upon it.”

As they reached the iron door, muffled voices were heard from within. The door was slightly cracked open and, with the point of Retribution, Vlishgnath gently swung open the door.

Standing inside, three figures turned around to look upon them in surprise. First was Bartholomew on the right, his vibrant eyes narrowing as he recognized them as the previously unconscious men they had left upstairs. Sheathed at his sides, a pair of masterfully crafted scimitars hung from his belt. His blond hair hung down loose by his shoulders, his gloved hands tucking under his arms as he folded them across his broad chest. To the left, first glancing over his shoulder then turning around to fully view the three men at the door, Alexander stood dressed in a loose fitting combination of wizard robes and aristocratic clothing, a large spell tome tucked under his left arm and a satchel hanging under his right. Then, in the center, Baron Jonathan LeFay was the last to turn about, wearing a long-sleeved shirt with a brown vest, laughing silently at Mithos’ paladins in a condescending manner. They stood before a massive stone archway, the center of which housed a shimmering red surface that rippled and reflected images like that of a lake.

After a moment of staring down Vlishgnath, Maximus, and Thunderclese, Jonathan spoke, his voice dripping with disdain. “So, the church’s dogs have managed to catch up with us. You shouldn’t have followed us here.”