Seeds of Rebellion
Page 45

Before Jason had last met the Blind King, he had never heard the name Galloran. As a newcomer to Lyrian, he’d failed to grasp the significance of the grubby king’s secret identity. He hadn’t known how many still reverenced him as the greatest hero in Lyrian. Without any flashy pretense, here stood the true heir to Trensicourt, the strongest human kingdom not directly controlled by Maldor. Jason felt honored and relieved to be back in his presence.
“Did I hear Nedwin?” Galloran rasped with his damaged voice.
“And Lord Jason,” Nedwin said.
The king’s mouth spread into a wide grin, forming deep creases in the whiskerless skin around his eyes and cheeks. “Is that so?”
“Yes, Your Majesty,” Jason said. “Along with two new friends.”
“Wonderful, come inside.” Galloran backed away from the door.
“You may want to first talk with Jason and me in private,” Nedwin suggested. “His friends are anxious to greet Tark.”
“By all means, go find him,” the king grated.
Jason shared a glance with Ferrin. He could sense that the displacer resented Nedwin not wanting him in the room. Vernon closed the door, leaving Jason and Nedwin with Galloran.
Dorsio, a slender man with a shiny scar down the side of his face, sat unobtrusively in one corner. Jason knew that Dorsio, unable to speak, communicated with Galloran through touch and a system of snaps and claps.
The underground chamber was more storage room than sitting room, but had a cot, a wooden bench, a table, and a couple of chairs. The rest of the space was taken up by stacked barrels, crates, and sacks. Galloran sat on the cot, motioning for the others to sit on the bench.
“You two are well?” Galloran asked.
“Yes,” they both responded.
“What of Jugard?” Galloran asked.
“I found his corpse,” Nedwin replied. “He was stabbed to death no more than a day before my arrival.” Jason noticed that Nedwin suddenly seemed calmer and more coherent.
Galloran pounded a fist against his palm. “I feared as much. Jason unraveled the deception, and word of the false quest is now spreading, so Maldor is retaliating with violence. Did you have to slip past soldiers to get in here?”
“No,” Nedwin said. “They’ve abandoned Fortaim.”
“Then it was recently,” Galloran said. “They’ve been scouring the area for the past two days, trying to figure out how we slipped away. The time to act is upon us. Perhaps we can still save some of the other guardians: Trivett, Malar, the Pythoness and …” The king paused, unable to continue.
“Corinne,” Nedwin supplied.
Galloran nodded silently, his chin briefly trembling with emotion. “How could I have forgotten her for so long?” he rasped softly.
“What matters is that you have remembered.”
“You have your memories back?” Jason asked.
“Many of them, thanks to Nedwin.”
“I’ve been giving him small doses of a peculiar variety of snake venom,” Nedwin explained. “Comes from a canopy cobra, a furtive species found high in the trees. I’ve spent the last few years collecting rare specimens from the southern jungle. Too solitary and dangerous a job for most, but perfect for a man with keen senses and a defective personality. The right plant extract or spider poison can fetch a princely sum.”
“The cobra venom is sometimes employed by Maldor to extract information,” Galloran added.
“They used it on me!” Jason said. “Blue and purple snake?”
Nedwin bobbed his head. “That’s the one. I routinely kept some of the more interesting samples I gathered.” He patted the pouches at his belt. “I recalled how the canopy cobras were used inside of Felrook. When I captured one in the jungle, I milked a vial for my own use.”
“Nedwin talks to me about my past while administering doses of varying strengths,” Galloran said. “After the effect of the venom wanes, he reminds me of all we discussed, adding details that he personally recalls. In a matter of weeks, most of my mental barriers have been torn down.”
“You mentioned Corinne,” Jason prompted.
“Yes.” Anxiety colored his words. “You must have met her.”
“I did,” Jason said. “I can’t remember her directly. The weird round mushrooms in her tree blocked our memories. But she was alive. The Pythoness was Corinne’s mother, right?”
“The Pythoness was her great-aunt,” Galloran said. “Inside the tree, she raised Corinne as her own. Outside of the tree, Corinne understood the reality of the relationship.”
“We promised Corinne we’d return if we found the Word.”
“It may be too late,” Galloran said, striving to sound detached. “Jugard’s death proves that Maldor is moving against the syllable guardians. Thanks to protective spells woven into their sanctuaries, the emperor can’t use magic against them, nor can he send wizardborn races like displacers or manglers. But I’m not sure much besides secrecy ever guarded them from simple human assassins. The thought of Maldor sending troops to harm her …” Veins stood out on the back of his fists.
“It sounds like you know Corinne well,” Jason said, trying to fill the silence.
“She is my daughter,” Galloran answered, his voice hollow. “My last living child.”
“What?” Jason exclaimed.
“Maldor went to great lengths to target the royal family of Trensicourt. He slew my brothers, my son, my wife. In her youth, I hid Corinne with her great-aunt for her protection. After all these years, that decision may have fatally exposed her.”
“We’ll rescue her,” Nedwin vowed. “We’ll hurriedly recover all the remaining guardians.”
“We needn’t fret for the Prophetess of Mianamon,” Galloran said. “She has enough protection until Maldor triumphs in the east. And I do not expect Maldor would target the loremaster Bridonus, given his attitude and connections.”
“He’s Copernum’s father,” Jason remembered.
“And Damak’s son,” Nedwin added.
“Damak?” Jason said. “The torture guy?”
“Bridonus lacks their ruthlessness, but he is essentially a puppet of the emperor,” Galloran said. “The three other remaining guardians must be rescued.”
“I’ll see to it,” Nedwin said.
Galloran nodded slowly, placing his palms together at his lips. “Trivett on the Isle of Weir will be the hardest to reach. Perhaps we’ll dispatch Vernon.”