Dark Moons on Chimera

By Tim Conley

Dark Moons on Chimera is a four part compendium that tells the stories of triplets (Kn'dra, Kn'Ross and Kn'Rose) who are born under a dire sign of danger and intrigue. The problem being there was only supposed to be one heir - not three. The other problem was an ancient alien curse spoken by the Marconians (original inhabitants of the Antares Star system. This curse told of Triple Thrones upon which the children would sit. King Wagamar, the triplets' father, decreed that the curse would not stain his line.
Two of the children were spirited out of the kingdom and hidden. King Wagamar looked for them but was assassinated. His bastard son continued looking for them but years later they joined forces, found the Triple Thrones and assumed their roles as rulers. The ancient prophesy had been fulfilled. Read & Enjoy.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tim Conley
• Release date: Sep 23, 2020
• ISBN: 9781005323912

Tim Conley

Hi, my name is Tim Conley. I live in Philadelphia, MS with my beautiful wife, Carmela. My son,James (JD) is in the Air Force and has a son Joshua who is 21/2 with another boy on the way. Carmela's son - Enrik just graduated from Mississippi State University with a degree in Teaching.I have been writing for over twenty years and have published 67 books so far - two recently with Amazon/Kindle. I'm currently working on a fantasy anthology of 28 books called The Rhumgold Sagas.I have always been interested in publishing via eBook format but just haven't found the venue until now. I'm really looking forward to participating in the eBook experience. There are 22 e-books available now and 16 more that are being prepared for release in 2020. Read, explore and enjoy!

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Dark Moons on Chimera

TIM CONLEY

Copyright © 2020 Tim Conley

Dragon’s Breath Publishing

All rights reserved.

Table of Contents

Appendix 1

Dedication

Acknowledgements

Book 1

Book 2

Book 3

Book 4

EditorsNotes

About the Author

Other Books

Appendix 1 - Cast of Characters/Place Names

King Wagamar - Ruler in Theuniss

Queen Aleana

Glendola - Queen Alena’s handmaiden

Mhel’Sargonus - Wizard

Ahngelica - Delivery scout

Philoges the Elder - Wagamar’s advisor

Siomane of Kaff - Wagamar’s advisor

Mag'yar - Ancient Marconian

Euclydvicious creature used to kill King Wagamar

Brendan - Ranger

Festril - Store owner

Diomages

Guild Master Moreo - Grand Master in Theuniss

Captain Jean Luc Gerrard - Captain in the King’s Guards

Maximus - Wagon train slaver master

Mauricio de Sade - A sadist in league with the Guild

Jonah - Guild Captain executioner

Alexi of Rayborne House - Theuniss nobleman

Metro the Fierce - Rayborne House eunuch

Marc St. Laurent - Resistance fighter and guide into Baykal

Dom Perigren

Sardon of Caperne - Assassin

Randolf - Assassin

Sergei of Theuniss - Assassin

Marsalla - Assassin

Rufus - ruffian

Bayhounds - Tracking species of hound

Koxsis - Infestation of giant spiders

Marconians - Ancient race

Baykal - City

Caperne - City

Theuniss - City

Chamala - City

Andolia - City

Mt. Thendrun - Volcano in Theuniss

Lake Baykal - Lake

DEDICATION

A special dedication goes to Randy Bansley. He was a solid, imaginative Petty Officer in the U.S. Navy when I knew him. He created the major characters in this story for the purpose of inspiring his Dungeons & Dragons group – everyone shared the same fire for life and love for adventure. Fair winds and following seas!

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

I would like to acknowledge the contributions to this book from my wife and best friend, Carmela, who has stuck with my writing and has provided encouragement for me to complete all the projects I've spent the past twenty-five years working on.

Book 1

B1-C1 Birth Under the Sign

Stars and planets were aligned that night. Silver eyes stared as blackness – stark and ominous, covered Chimera's primary moon. Deep purple shadows struck terror into hearts already made feeble by rumors of cataclysm. Time for changed walked the face of Chimera. Changes the likes that no being alive had ever been witness to. Evil was going to rise again. The Mages had predicted as much.

Glendola looked out her window and shivered as night wind came across the casement. The evil wind kicked at the shutter as she drew it across the moon – now completely black. It seemed to her the very elements were positioned to give her mistress a difficult, if not impossible, birthing. Just this afternoon the physicians had told the old king that Aleana had more than one spirit living within her. The Mages had predicted as much.

Why did she have to go into labor at this time? she asked herself yet another time. She knew the predictions. Aleana the stupid is what they should call her. She should not have tempted the fates! Now she will surely die to please the predictions. No woman can carry three spirits within her and safely deliver. The Mages had predicted as much.

Hanging her head, Glendola looked around her small room and realized tonight would probably be the last night she would reside in the small hole.

Straw within the corner bed rustled and moved. The room was otherwise barren, almost as she wished her mistress had remained.

Tomorrow I'll join my mistress in her celestial celebration. What an honor of signal importance. She hoped her hand would not falter in its final preparations.

In the Queen's apartments, far above Glendola's small room, Aleana lay on the birthing couch. Horrible thoughts of death's head were going through her mind as she lay waiting for the physicians to make up their minds. I wish they would hurry. Aleana felt nature's urgency, taking its course – despite their hesitancy.

The physicians were huddled in one corner discussing Aleana's request that the shutters be removed from the high windows so she could witness the heavenly event. We can't do that. protested Philoges the Elder. It will surely affect the birthing.

But she will surely have your august head if you don't, Siomane of Kaff pointed out. I would much rather deal with the King than with her vile temperament.

That said – they moved to perform the Queen's bidding. Everything was coming together up there. All had been predicted save the extinguishment of the moon. That part of the process spelled danger for everyone. Aleana realized as much as she watched the night sky. Stars never seen before drew close.

How foolish I've been to try to birth when the elements are in such unique array. But the Mages said the portents were good for a strong ruler to be born when all the planets are aligned with the stars of faraway Porteous.

They were now aligned. Rhumgold's opposite orbit had brought the thrice ringed planet into the equation. The long white beard of Kitopus could be seen peeking around the southern end of the gigantic Gorgon.

Looking inward with the astronomer's glass one could see – before tonight, the planets of Renas and Magus as they made their much shorter trips around Drackeon. All the planets could usually be seen completing their portion of the glorious alignment. Using Ra, which was in full phase at the moment, as a marker, one could look at all of them. But – something sinister – unpredictable had happened.

Aleana felt the terror building up in her heart again as the pains in her abdomen made themselves apparent again. She was going to have a difficult time of it. She screamed loudly as Glendola walked into the room with an urn of hot water and some birthing cloths. She screamed again in frustration at Glendola.

Where the hell are those physicians? I demand they come in here and take these devils from me immediately! Glendola approached and tried to console her mistress. She had also been puzzled by the physicians. They should have been gathered around the birthing couch by now. Aleana was past due. Glendola had seen the final stage of birthing many times. She placed soothing compresses on Aleana's head and tried to calm her. But things were past due.

Aleana grunted and screamed. Glendola moved around and looked underneath the covers. A head was poking out. Something had to be done. Glendola screamed herself – for the physicians. Then she took position to assist as Aleana screamed once more and heaved.

Glendola held a prince in her bloody hands, but she didn't have time to admire him. Yet another head was being pushed out by a furious mother. Glendola had never seen such a horrific mask on anyone, nor had she ever heard Aleana mutter some of the obscenities she was now screaming. Oblation would have to be made for both them and the children when this was over.

Glendola anxiously looked around for a place to put the young prince. A basket filled with sheets under the table would have to do.

Quickly she raised the child up and snipped the connection to his mother with her teeth, then laid him in the basket. She was just in time as she turned around and caught the next child, a princess with lots of black hair. She must have been the one giving Aleana so much heartburn that she kept complaining about. Glendola took care of her and laid her beside her brother.

A third head was poking out as Glendola heard footsteps coming into the room. She was in for it now. The physicians would have her impaled for witchcraft. A woman could not possibly hope to understand the intricacies of childbirth. She was not to be disappointed as the nearest one saw her reaching in with her bloody hands to support the head of their next heir to the throne.

Witch! Get your bloody paws away from the royal persons! he shrieked. Rough hands shoved her across the room. Glendola struck the table with force and crumpled onto the floor. Luckily, she fell in a heap around the basket holding the other children as the team of physicians went to work with the royal heir to the throne of Caperne.

Glendola witnessed the birthing as the Head Physician held the heir high for all to see. It was a girl. The royal heir was a princess. Glendola almost screeched the truth, but something made her hold back. In haste she covered up the two small packages in the basket and hoped they wouldn't be noticed. Her life was already forfeit. She would be impaled as a witch. Foreboding came back to haunt her.

As the Head Physician turned toward her, others covered up the face of the Queen. Glendola sobbed as the impact of Aleana's passing hit her. She hardly heard the old fool as he ranted on about her conspiracy to kill the Queen, and the heir to the throne. It didn't matter now. She knew another chambermaid would stand beside the Queen. She would not have the honor. But she would decorate the castle walls for many months to come.

There is no place for you to hide, witch. I have given orders for the castle guard to come pick you up. You better make your peace because the King is going to mete out the stiff sentence tomorrow. Your eyes will not notice another sunset, hag! With that the physicians strode from the room, content in the fact they had delivered the heir and that she had no place to run.

Glendola lay there listening to their footsteps. Why had they been so late coming into the royal chamber? Had they neglected their Queen on purpose, and what could the purpose be? Questions were running round in her head as she waited on the guards to come.

Time passed. Glendola became aware of stirrings within the basket. She pulled the cover back to look inside and realized for the first time the impact of her actions. These two were no longer heirs, but bastards. She could not take them to the King. No one would believe the Queen had delivered two, let alone three. They would join her upon the battlement surrounding the castle – were they found.

Conviction rose within her. They must not die. Somehow, she had to smuggle them out of the castle. As if celestial beings were in agreement, a fresh moonbeam struck the still body of her mistress. The darkness was almost completely removed from the moon as Glendola gathered up the basket and left the room. A glance back over her shoulder at the covered body that still lay in the yoke made her conviction all the more solid.

Aleana was completely immersed in rays from a now strong moon. It was as if everything was saying that Aleana had not died for nothing. The stars may have been against her from the first. She had paid the price – they both had. But the children must not.

Glendola took stock of her options as she moved down the passageway. There was only one that was viable enough to consider seriously. She could take them to Mhel'Sargonus, an ex-Mage. The same Mhel'Sargonus who had fallen out of favor with the old King and the Mage Guild because he opposed the manipulation of the gene pool the King had demanded.

Aleana's selections as royal concubine had been a result of the scouring of the kingdom for maidens having bloodlines leading back to the ancient K'erth.

Aleana's first day in the castle was crystal clear in Glendola's mind. She had seemed so small and fragile when placed amongst all the trappings and finery of the royal existence. Glendola could only chuckle when she remembered how out of place a beautiful country girl had appeared when taken away from her milk pail.

Youth and beauty had almost immediately mesmerized the King. Fair, sun-bronzed, unblemished skin adorned by honey blonde hair worked miracles with the King. You had thought he was a young colt again, the way he acted. Glendola came back to the present, realizing the extent of her daydreaming. She had to hurry.

Mhel'Sargonus had his rooms in the lower part of the castle, to the back. He liked going and coming at his own leisure and knew ways in and out of the castle known to few others. Of course, he had probably been living there since before the time of anyone else living in the castle.

Glendola knocked on his rough-hewn door and stood there for what seemed eons. She had given up and was walking away when the door swung open on its leather hinges. Mhel'Sargonus stood in the doorway. Glendola shivered. She had always been frightened by the ancient Mage, but Aleana had sworn her upon her path.

She tried to move around the hulking figure, into the room -- but his disposition was anything but jovial. He had seen the portents of the night. Seeing Glendola renewed his conviction that something had gone wrong.

He stood his ground, not in any mood to be bothered by an old nursemaid. What do you want? Can't you see I'm busy, or is this your day for penitence? Did the Queen send you to clean an old man's residence?

No, my lord wizard. The Queen is dead. She hadn't intended to blurt it out like that. It seemed the words just came out of themselves.

She stood in the passageway, wanting desperately to cry, or to turn and run as far as she could. The pain of the past night suddenly descended upon her. She sobbed, The Physician's Guild let her die. They could have saved her and all the babies, but they didn't try.

Mhel'Sargonus looked at her with renewed interest and stood aside, motioning her into his rooms. He checked the passageway as she went to his bed and sat her burden on it. His cautious behavior was not lost on her. She should have been more careful, but she didn't think anyone had followed and said so. I don't think anyone followed me, my lord. At least I didn't see anyone.

He interrupted her with a wave of his hand. Enough, woman. Tell me what happened up there last night. And don't leave anything out. I have the divining ability. I will know when you lie to me. He sat on a bench behind his desk. It was piled up with precious books and scraps of parchment. A large, guttering candle stood on it double bowl stand behind his shoulder. He sat stroking his long, white beard – gazing sharply at her from clear, blue eyes that belied his age.

Glendola didn't quite know where to begin. She stuttered several times before finding her tongue. The Physicians must have been more interested in the cloak that was gathered over the moon than in the Queen. Aleana lay in the yoke of childbirth overlong and had to be assisted. I shouted for them to come in, my lord, but they tarried outside overlong. Aleana was screaming and pushing. Someone had to help her or the royal prince would have fallen on the floor.

Mhel'Sargonus interrupted, You say royal prince? But, he scratched his chin as if in a quandary, plainly perplexed. I heard this morning that a princess had been born. There was no mention made of a prince. What are you trying to foist on me, old croon? His glower made her cringe and almost wish she had tried to escape from the castle on her own.

I do not lie, my lord wizard. I was there. I helped my Queen with the birthing. Someone had to.

She added the last as a plea in her defense as she could see his look of disfavor. I know it is forbidden for a woman to meddle in the Physician's role. But I had to.

Mhel'Sargonus dismissed her plea. If there is a prince, where is he? Did you also hide him from the Physicians, old woman? She reached for the basket and his face indicated he had guessed as much. Glendola gave it over to him and started to sit back down. She was startled by the oath that slipped from Mhel'Sargonus.

Holy Lever from the Heavens! he swore. You have delivered a viper into my bosom, old woman! He sat back down heavily and looked at her.

Do you realize what you have done? You have surely saved all the royal heirs from swift and certain death. Be glad the Physician's Guild had other things on their minds last night. Did she pass the afterbirth? He could see she didn't know. We have a lot of work to do. These children must be taken out of the city as soon as possible, and I must go check the birthing room. It is a thankless job you've delivered into my hand, but if the prophesy is to be fulfilled, one that I must take up.

He took the basket and placed it behind his worktable. That part of their dealing was in the past. With heaviness in his voice he turned to Glendola and flatly foretold the future. Woman, I cannot help you. By now you have been declared a witch and beyond the ken of any who would maintain their own existence. For the sake of those you've delivered into my hands, consider well what and how you say things during interrogation. I can give you something if you think the need is there.

Glendola looked at him and felt her conviction solidify. No, my lord. I will not need anything. Just knowing that you will take care of the young royals is enough for me to still my tongue. They will get nothing out of me.

Mhel'Sargonus cursed under his breath as he watched the Queen's midwife cautiously go around the corner and depart his section of the castle.

She certainly had meddled into something beyond her understanding. And she would surely pay for it. He knew why the Physicians had tarried. They had known early on that there was more than one spirit within the Queen.

The King had decreed that the web of the old prophesy be broken. Only one was to be taken out of the room. They had taken the wrong one. The others would have to be secretly removed from harm's way. He knew that was no small task. Both guilds – Physicians and Mages, would know that someone had taken the other child. They would be looking for it, but he was certain he could cover his tracks well enough to keep them at bay for many years. He returned to his desk – making plans.

Toward the end of the morning a disheveled woman was thrown before the royal throne. Glendola raised her head to present a face that was battered and bleeding. Most of the blood came from what was left of her mouth. She had marched into the Room of the Mage and had threatened to tell the King everything that had happened during the previous night. That had served as a catalyst. The Mage on duty had ordered her tongue removed from her head to keep her from saying anything. Then he ordered her body broken for presentation to the King.

She spat blood onto the marble floor in front of her and immediately saw stars as a boot impacted with the back of her head. She almost blacked out. That would have been a relief, but the Mages guild was expert in the art of bringing pain. A bucket of water was dashed over her. The coldness of it brought her back to her senses enough so she could hear the sentence passed on her by the King.

Somehow, she was kind of glad when they finally led her away to carry out the execution of the King's bidding. The sun was beginning to go down as they led her out and positioned her naked body over the spike that would end her life. Through half-closed eyes she saw the splendor of a brilliant sunset. As she saw the clouds take on their pink tint, she knew the royal children would make her death worth all the pain she had experienced. She smiled as the Death’s head released the catch on the spike.

B1-C2 Castle Intrigue

Mhel'Sargonus felt tired as he barred his door and retreated to the comfort of his room. The overtaxed frame of his chair groaned and squeaked protest but settled around him. Thoughts of ending his days in luxury had evaporated with the Queen's handmaiden knocking at his door.

Her task had been the delivery of more potential trouble than he'd dealt with in more years than he wanted to consider. She was now decorating the parapet; her charges were safely out of the castle and should soon be on their ways to places unknown to him.

He considered again the only thing left in his room that might implicate him. He had painstakingly traced the birthmarks on both babies. Each had an indelible blue mark on their right-hand thumbs. It meant nothing when viewed on an individual basis but would gain significance when all three wearers placed their thumbs together.

Only at that time would the three realize which of them had been chosen to lead. His or her thumb would be placed in the center. They would then, if legend served correctly, have the secret to the ancient Marconian thrones.

Shaking his head, Mhel'Sargonus wished again that he was still on the inside of castle intrigue. Instead of being where he could easily retrieve the information he needed, he was trapped in the lower part of the castle no longer person of reference, but persona non grata.

The old king hadn't wished to hear bad tidings concerning his plans to break up the ancient thrones. Thus, Mhel'Sargonus was an outcast from the caste system he had led for years. Sighing deeply, with regret for what he had lost, the old Mage crumpled up the vellum scrap and placed it amongst the briquettes in his burner. Silver runes turned green, then evaporated in the heat. Ash became the only thing that could implicate him.

Far above, Philoges the Elder received the evening’s agenda from his secretary. Siomane of Kaff was written in red ink across the top sheet. Philoges swore beneath his breath. What does that old buzzard want now? To his secretary he only nodded, and then sat back as the mute man moved to open his door for his first audience.

Siomane wasn't a man easily forgotten. Once a warrior of renown among the Kaff; indeed, the entire southern region, he was a head taller than any other man in kingdom. Of course, his great stature had significantly withered as old age approached, but he still carried himself impressively.

Philoges couldn't help but look up as the old warrior approached the desk. He gestured toward the chair on the other side, but Siomane seemed more interested in investigating the tapestry that adorned one wall of Philoges' office. His words seemed to come after much deliberation.

My friend, he said, tugging on what was left of his beard, we are in a real quandary. I believe you know that. His black eyes burned holes as he leaned on the back of the proffered chair.

Philoges cleared his throat. Just what are you making reference to?

Fire showed in Siomane's eyes. Listen, you pompous ass! You know exactly what I'm talking about. And the King probably knows also. Both of us are in danger of extinction.

Calm down, my friend. Philoges stretched and placed his hands behind his head. We just have to ride this one out. The King's health isn't what it used to be. You know that.

Siomane sat down warily. What are you trying to imply? I was with you in the beginning, to return the favor old Wagamar did when he plundered Kafka, but I want something more from this.

And you shall soon be a free man, my friend. Wagamar will not live forever. Even you must realize that.

The old warrior shook his head. Even you can't get through Wagamar's poison spells. You said as much when we planned Aleana's downfall. How do you think now that you're going to succeed?

A smile crossed the lips of Philoges the Elder. I've no doubts about this. He pulled a vial of dark amber from his desk. The dark, swirling being trapped within caused white to show around Siomane's eyes. His bushy brows knit together. For a moment he appeared to be trying to decide whether or not to bolt from the room. Are you sure you've got the proper incantations on that devil?

A smile turned into sour smirk on the other's face. Oh, yes. This little widget won't go anywhere until its time. He shook the vial vigorously, and then set it on the table between them. Even Wagamar can't counteract one of these little devils. He won't even realize it’s in the room.

How are you going to spring it on him?

When he pulls his servant's cord. Appreciation for deviousness was evident. Philoges continued. "Wagamar will pull the cord for his evening fruit. And he will get more than he bargained for. Encased in the rope, there will be no chance of premature discovery.

Have you ever seen the mess one of these Euclyds makes of a man?"

Siomane shuddered. Yes. Up close and in person. Wagamar himself had one secreted into Kafka. The thing ate itself through my entire camp. I was luckily not there.

And good thing for you, my friend. I take it you had an Eliminator in your surviving party?

And good thing for us, too. I almost left it in the camp. That's the first thing the Euclyd would have gone for. It would still be wandering the countryside. Siomane sat back and crossed his legs. A look of disgust passed across his features as he looked at the small creature, but it became nonexistent as he turned to the real reason he'd requested the audience.

You've no doubt figured out what happened the other night? The other nodded. Siomane breathed a sigh of relief. When the other didn't furnish information, Siomane prodded.

Well. . .

Haven't you figured it out, my friend? It had to be the old woman. Somehow she hid the other little bastards. We shouldn't have left her in there by herself, but that can't be helped now. My people are scouring the castle for them. The gates were closed right after the birthing, so either they are still here, or she threw them into the moat. And figure the odds of her doing that! They will be found.

Then what? Philoges chuckled at his dim-witted old friend. What indeed? We throw them into the moat. Wagamar wanted to break up the old myths about those ancient thrones. Now he's done it. It will be another six hundred years before the stars align for another possibility. Figure the odds of a myth that has tenuous hold today lasting another half century. Wagamar has finally defeated the Marconians.

Siomane smiled. Nevermore will they haunt humankind with their alien ways. He was about to say something further but was interrupted by Philoges' chamberlain. The look on his friend's old face as he listened to whispers confirmed the cold feeling Siomane had developed in the pit of his stomach. Something hadn't happened. Philoges waited for the chamberlain to leave, and then turned haunted eyes back to his friend.

We have bad trouble. The little bastards aren't inside the castle. This tears the entire timetable we were planning. We must move at once.

He picked up the vial and gently placed it inside his tunic. Meet me tonight outside the King's chambers.

Siomane nodded. He knew the importance of quick action. Lack of same had cost him his kingdom. What about the bastards? he asked as they left the room.

I'll send a couple trackers after them. They must be found, but first we have to get things set up to take care of business here. Time's growing short. He patted his old friend on the back and moved off toward the King's private quarters. Siomane watched him go – again with a feeling that things were not right.

B1-C3 Assignment to Search

The conjuring stone reflected preparations taking place in the bedchambers of King Wagamar. Silver eyes drank deeply, taking in all actions in the concave mirror. A dark tongue fluttered out, as if to taste the scene. Frustrated at not being able to filter the nuances of smell from the room, digited claw tips squeezed gently, adjusting the fine tuning of his instrument.

He observed as a dark vial was incorporated into the King's servant rope. Inside the vial tiny, yellow, malicious eyes gleamed. It wanted out. Only the magical incantation placed on the stopper kept the being from wrecking havoc. It struggled vigorously, anticipating action.

Philoges jumped, startled by the intrusion of one of the King's servants. Siomane stepped from the wall and drew his dagger across the unfortunate man's throat. Redness burbled from the gash as breath escaped through a severed windpipe. The man slumped with a groan to the floor.

Philoges stood transfixed. He couldn't believe his companion had been so capricious. His lips moved. Claw tips adjusted the stone. Did you have to kill him? We're going to have enough trouble just getting ourselves back out of here.

Siomane shrugged and leaned down to clean his knife on the servant's robe. Looking up he remarked, What better way to cover our tracks. The old man will immediately pull on the cord when he finds the body. This guy did us a favor. Come on, let's get this finished.

Silver eyes continued to observe while the two conspirators finished up their work. With one clawed hand he scratched an area beneath his chin. A premonition surfaced in the forefront of his brain. Quickly he spun the dials on the sides of the stone. The throne room was empty. Dials spun once more. Mag'yar thought into the stone, giving it a brief description of the human, he was looking for.

Wagamar coalesced onto the screen, striding down a passageway, toward his private quarters. Silver eyes flashed. The old king was going to run into his trusted advisors. They would have no recourse but to try to kill him by physical means – no mean task. The King's sorcerous spells remained strong, long after his need for prowess on the battlefield.

Both conspirators were caught flatfooted by King Wagamar. A strong oath blasted the ears of all listeners. Both men tried to fade into the background. What the, what are you doing here? he demanded.

Philoges stammered, then bowed his head. Siomane stepped up behind his king, dagger drawn. A startled look appeared on his face. He couldn't even get his arm around the King's neck. Something was stopping him. He found that he couldn't step away either. Wagamar turned toward him. A terrible grin made him look like an ogre. You were planning something? Siomane felt his knees go weak.

Wagamar swung around. His gaze rested on the servant’s cord in Philoges' hand. And you probably want to tell me some tall tale about why you're here, huh, Advisor? Perhaps how you came into my chambers, following a furtive figure you thought was probably up to no good. Is that it?

The other was unable to speak. You'll also, no doubt, explain to me why my Queen was allowed to die, why my directions weren't followed concerning her issue, and why there are two kids of royal issue outside the castle at this very instant?

Philoges tried to speak, but merely stammered. My, my Lord...I, uh, we... He looked down at his hands and realized there was only one way out of the mess they had gotten themselves into. The King was continuing his tirade.

Philoges looked up and met the eyes of his comrade. Both knew what had to happen. Siomane tried to turn toward the door but found himself still frozen in place. He nodded at Philoges, who pulled on the cord. Three men screamed as one as a yellow-eyed monster suddenly materialized out of the servant’s cord.

Mag'yar looked on. Even he was disgusted by the eating habits of the Euclyd but kept his gaze steady. It had been years since he had witnessed a beast that his people had domesticated in their heyday. Mankind was never meant to master pets of a race they neither understood nor wanted to learn anything about. Mag'yar finally stood back and clicked off his stone.

With some trepidation he walked out onto a balcony that overlooked a small inner green, surrounded by high, stone walls. Leaning on stone, Mag'yar considered what he had learned from the conversation he had overheard. There was more than one child. I thought so. Wagamar confirmed it. Damn! I was so caught up in celestial movement. I forgot about everything else.

Mag'yar gazed at the murmuring fountain in the middle of the green. It calmed his turbulent thoughts somewhat. I guess there is much searching to be done now, he said aloud. Turning back inside he glanced back over his shoulder.

Drackeon's warm glow was lowering toward the horizon. He watched as a dull red, over-stuffed globe settled between the triple peaks of Mizantrum. Drackeon appeared to be skewered for good this time, but he knew it would be back with morning light.

Mag'yar prepared to leave the place of his birth. He thought for a moment about the last time he had ventured into the realm of men.

Many man-centuries had passed. He felt ill-prepared for what lay ahead, but knew he had much searching to do. I have to find those children. Their fates depend on it. He turned back to his preparations.

B1-C4 Assignment to Conceal

Mhel'Sargonus groaned inwardly as he closed the door to his rooms. 'Glendola has no idea what she's done. Her messing is likely to get us all killed.' He moved back over to the open books that littered his worktable.

Glendola had interrupted his train of thought. 'Damned fool woman! It's never been done before. Women should stay in their own sphere.' Angry muttering drifted off as the Book of Enclosures gained his attention once more. Minutes passed as connections with remembered study were again made with the ancient silver runes before his eyes. Something clicked.

Mhel'Sargonus' breath caught. Excitedly, he leaned over the basket holding infants of royal blood. With haste he took two thumbs between his own roughened forefinger and thumb. 'The runes speak truth.' Blue runic circles appeared on both thumbs. They didn't fit together. 'It will take the one upstairs to make the runes complete.' He looked up, as if by stint of wishful thinking he could make the third child appear before him. 'I wonder, no, it has to stay here, or someone will discover the existence of these two. They must be concealed.'

So, declaring, Mhel'Sargonus turned back to his books and began making preparations for getting the children out of the castle. A hurried conversation into his crystal geode gained the measure of support he had wanted. He shook his head at the thought of the high cost exacted for his request.

These people are never satisfied. They will suck me dry. Even I can't create a potion that will make his old daughter attractive. He wants too much. But then, if I had his problems, I'd ask the same. Mhel began working on a formula that had worked for him in the distant past. 'She will have to realize this is not permanent. Not even I can make someone permanently beautiful.'

Shortly after dusk a soft knock broke into his reverie. Mhel started for the door, but hurriedly returned to cover up the basket that lay beside his worktable. He then