Controlling Chaos (The Five Kingdoms Book 12) Read online

  Chapter 3

  Fear was not an emotion that Branock savored. He was an old man by anyone’s standards. He had lived more than two full lifetimes and yet he could count on one hand the number of times he’d been truly frightened.

  He stood facing the windows at the bow of the ship. Below him he could hear the carpenters hard at work remaking the interior of the ship. Under normal circumstances he might have admired the way the Sea Arrow practically flew over the waves, and he was grateful for the distance they were putting between themselves and Orrock, yet he knew he was at a terrible disadvantage. Zollin had dragons to fly on, which were much faster than any ship even in the best of conditions.

  The young wizard had truly become his nemesis. Branock had once thought to control him. An alliance between them could have made Branock the most powerful person in the Five Kingdoms. His grandiose dreams of casting down his master and rising to take Offendorl’s place as supreme wizard of the Torr was shattered by Zollin. The boy had not only resisted Branock’s efforts, he had actually defeated the elder wizard on more than one occasion. Every scheme Branock had concocted was not just undermined by the do-good wizard, but in every case Zollin had thwarted Branock’s plans entirely.

  Twice Branock had risen to power in Yelsia, and twice Zollin had managed to make the elder wizard’s presence in the kingdom he called home impossible. The first time Branock had fled north, hiding in the frigid village of Skattle Point, but this time he was going south. In the ruins of Falxis and Osla lay opportunity and that was exactly what Branock needed. One on one he was not powerful enough to defeat Zollin. He needed an edge, a weapon to use against the boy that would turn the odds in Branock’s favor. If he could remove Zollin, Branock’s ambitions would be realized.

  But just the thought of gaining an advantage over his enemy was like the residue of a bitter medicine. Controlling Yelsia’s army had slipped through his fingers and Zollin had broken Branock’s control over Quinn. They had been so close to victory, both over Zollin and over Baskla, whose army had marched south into Ortis, leaving the kingdom vulnerable to attack. Only something had stopped his army, some new menace that Branock had not anticipated. And even though Quinn had succeeded in running his son through with a sword, the young wizard’s healing power had overcome the otherwise mortal wound.

  Branock’s efforts to retrieve something of value from the tower of the Torr had fallen short as well. Roleena’s chest of books was practically worthless. Most were chronicles of forgotten wizards that Branock had no interest in. He cared nothing for history, only the future, only power. One book was an index of magical plants and minerals, a tome that Branock found especially useless. Then there were several journals describing the failed efforts of another forgotten member of the Torr to harness and control the magic of the sea people. Branock knew better than to practice magic on the open waters where he was weak and the merpeople ruled with their menagerie of sea monsters.

  Roleena had been touched by their magic and in Branock’s mind had become one of their many wretched mutations. Her tentacle leg repulsed him, as did the gills he could sometimes see through the blouse she wore. They were hidden under her arms and only used when she was underwater, but occasionally they flared, as gills often did. He could sense the strange power in her, the connection with the creature she called a Graygon, as well as a budding control of seawater. Odd powers for anyone, at least to Branock’s way of thinking, yet powerful enough to register with his own magical senses.

  He knew he should read through the books more closely. He had done little more than glance at the titles and flip through a few of the more mysterious volumes, but his nerves were on edge. The sea outside the frosty window panes was dark, the wind tipped white caps in strong contrast to the rolling waves they rode on. And the sky was thick with gray clouds. Branock scanned that sky often, always expecting to see Death come swooping down on a green dragon. One blast of fire would set the small ship ablaze. Fire was the bane of every sailing ship, yet there was really very little Branock could do. They were miles off shore and the water was bitterly cold. If he fell into the briny sea he would freeze to death, if he didn’t drown first. He could use his magic of course, but that might draw enemies even more deadly than the cold, rough seas.

  He cursed under his breath as the door opened behind him. Branock didn’t bother to turn and look, he knew only Roleena would enter the captain’s berth unannounced. The fact that she was sharing it with him wasn’t lost on the elder wizard. She didn’t like having a companion on board, but she had kept busy outfitting the vessel, and maintaining discipline among her disappointed crew. They had thought to have at least a week in port, reveling in Tragoon Bay’s brothels and taverns. The wenches Roleena brought on board were not faring well. One was so sea sick she could do nothing but lay in the corner moaning. The other had been used hard by the sailors, and was showing signs of their violent treatment.

  “Why do you continue to brood?” Roleena asked. “You have what you wanted.”

  “Not exactly what I wanted,” he said, turning to face her. “Your selection of reading material leaves much to be desired.”

  “I’m no wizard,” the pirate captain said coldly. “I found books and brought them to you. I also rescued you from the boy you killed. We are far away from that port and no ship can match our speed.”

  “You know nothing of the world,” Branock grumbled. “Your thinking is short sighted. A wizard can cover vast distances very quickly, much more quickly than your ship.”

  “But if he enters the sea, I will know it.”

  “And if he comes on a dragon? He controls a hulking green beast that would turn this ship and its entire crew into cinders if it wanted. Or it could simply smash a hole in her side and send the ship to the bottom of the sea. And that’s nothing compared to the power of the wizard.”

  “Don’t tell me about the boy,” Roleena said, her voice icy. “I will have my revenge on Zollin, that much is certain.”

  “Or you will die trying,” Branock said, sounding aloof. “He is more powerful than you know.”

  “But not more powerful than the sea. Besides, I have you to counter his magic and the Graygon is more than a match for any dragon.”

  Branock stared at the pirate for a long moment then went to the small chest that contained bottles of wine he had brought from Orrock. He was halfway through a dusty bottle of dark red wine and poured himself another glass. He didn’t bother to offer any to Roleena.

  “You have a plan I take it,” he said.

  “I do. Once I rejoin my other vessels I will be ready to act. You should be as well.”

  “I would like to know of this plan you speak of.”

  “All you need to know is that I will draw the boy to us. When that happens you are to protect my ships.”

  “And what will you be doing?” he asked before taking another sip of his wine.

  “I will be leading an army that no wizard can defeat and I guarantee that the wizard will die. Magic is an abomination and must be stamped out.”

  “All magic?” Branock asked, noticing the hardness in Roleena’s eyes.

  “In time, perhaps, we can find a balance. But don’t forget, you promised me revenge and all you have delivered is fear, complaints, and constant brooding.”

  Branock wanted to make the impertinent woman suffer. She was arrogant and over confident. For a moment Branock was reminded of Cassius, a young wizard and member of the Torr who was also arrogant and over confident. He had thought to battle Zollin and had paid with his life. Cassius’ death was no loss to Branock, but Roleena’s might be. She was growing in power and could be useful under the right conditions. Branock didn’t care for the woman, if that was even what she still was, but he was desperate and she was the only ally he had left.

  “I shall try to be more useful,” he said through clenched teeth.

  “Please do,” she said before turning and walking briskly from the room.

  Branock took a long d
rink of his wine, letting the warmth the liquid produced in his stomach spread through his body. He could feel the areas affected by the burns he had suffered when Danella’s beau had jumped from the wagon to save her life. The boy had been large and when he landed on Branock the elder wizard had suffered not only burns, but several broken bones. His magic had healed the damage, but he could feel areas of newness in his body next to the aging sections. What he needed was a long season of renewal, but that too would have to wait. He still needed to find a way to best his nemesis and that wouldn’t happen without work. He turned back to the window and looked out across the gray sky. Death had not come flying down on a green dragon yet, but he could feel it coming for him. That confrontation was unavoidable.

  Chapter 4

  The feasting hall was full of people. Nobles were gathered at a large table that was set up at the front of the room. The ministers that oversaw the various administrative tasks of the kingdoms were clustered together near the corner. Merchants, craftsmen, and concerned citizens made up the rest of the crowd. Zollin was nervous. He had no fear that he might be arrested or harmed in any way, his magic was powerful enough to ensure that he wasn’t threatened, even in a large crowd. But speaking before such a large group of people was almost as terrifying as fighting for his life.

  “Don’t worry, you’ll be fine,” Brianna said, trying to sound encouraging.

  “You’ll be with me, right?”

  “Of course I will.”

  “You want me there?” Mansel asked. “I could hold your hand if you want.”

  “Shut up and make your plans. I want you on the road to Ebbson Keep today.”

  “Fine, I was just trying to help.”

  The big warrior smirked and the playful banter did more to calm Zollin’s nerves than anything else. If Mansel could tease him, he knew things would be okay. This was just another task he needed to complete. The goal wasn’t to crown him king, it was to get the kingdom working together.

  “It is time, my Lord,” Homan said.

  The chief steward looked almost as frightened as Zollin.

  “Alright, let’s get this over with,” the young wizard said.

  They came out of the room directly behind the raised platform where the nobles were seated. Not all the nobles from Yelsia were present, in fact most of the dukes were busy overseeing their portions of the kingdom, but many of their family members were there. The most powerful were seated at the long table, and the others stood to either side of the wide platform. When Zollin walked out he saw the suspicious looks they gave him. They didn’t know if they could trust him, and more than a few would have preferred a chance to rise to the throne themselves.

  Zollin raised his hands and the crowd fell silent. He didn’t look like a king. He was young, and he wore simple clothes. Wool pants died a deep brown that matched the leather belt around his waist. His shirt was a thick winter garment that hung down to his thighs when it wasn’t tucked into the belt. The sleeves had small straps that he kept tied around his wrists, and a braided cord was threaded through the collar, allowing him to cinch the shirt closed or open it up depending on his preference. He kept the collar open and his hair was cut short.

  “People of Orrock, my name is Zollin. I am a wizard-”

  “And a murderer!” shouted one of the ministers.

  Anger flashed in Zollin, stoking his magic, but he tamped it down and forced a smile.

  “That is an accusation against me, but I assure you it is not true. Many of you were here last year when I crowned King Hausey. Many of you wanted me to wear that crown. I had every opportunity to be your king, and I regret that my actions cost a good man his life. But I did not kill King Hausey. In fact, the night he died I was not even in the castle, but in my father-in-law’s home.”

  “Prove it!” shouted another of the ministers.

  Zollin was beginning to get a picture of the alliances in the room. The nobles were waiting to see how things would shake out. None of them were willing to take him on directly, but Zollin was certain alliances had been formed. And the ministers were desperate to keep him out of Orrock. Their excesses under Branock’s rule were obvious, and Zollin would deal with them soon enough, but for the moment he let their belligerence slide.

  “I will,” Zollin said, looking at the group of ministers directly. “Commander Keynon has been sent to investigate my claim. Come and give your report.”

  The weary-looking captain of the King’s Royal Guard stepped forward and cleared his throat.

  “My men and I have looked into Zollin’s claims. There is no proof that he wasn’t in the castle. His alibi is a lie.”

  This time the power stoked by his anger was almost too much to bear. Brianna, standing beside Zollin, was fuming as well, but he put his hand on hers.

  “Commander,” Zollin said, speaking in a loud voice to be heard over the crowd. “You spoke to Estry the Tailor?”

  “I spoke to Priam, lady Danella’s mother. She has no recollection of you being in their home the night King Hausey died.”

  Zollin had to clench his teeth. He never understood why Brianna’s mother hated him so much. Her lust for prestige and power was well known, but he couldn’t understand why she would betray him now when he was doing what she always wanted by taking control of Yelsia. Her daughter would be queen, and yet she had lied.

  “I move to have this traitor arrested!” shouted one of the ministers.

  “He should hang!” shouted another.

  “Burn the devil alive!” someone from the crowd bellowed.

  Zollin had heard enough. He clapped his hands together and a sound like thunder crashed through the feasting hall. Magical power rippled up and down Zollin’s body, like tiny arcs of blue lightning, and when he spoke his voice was unnaturally deep and loud.

  “Silence!” he said. “You will not throw this kingdom into more chaos.”

  The crowd not only fell silent, but many of them cowered back, including many of the nobles at the table who were nearest to Zollin.

  “I am Zollin, the wizard of the Five Kingdoms. I have murdered no one, but if I wanted to,” Zollin looked over at the group of ministers, “it would not be in their bed. Listen to me, people of Orrock. There is danger all around us. To the south the outcasts are organizing a new kingdom. To the east a dark magic is growing in power and our army faces horrors that must be stopped before they come spilling into Yelsia. And the man who murdered King Hausey is the same man you ministers put into power. Branock killed King Hausey, and when his plan to invade Baskla failed, he fled.”

  “How can you prove this?” said the first minister to speak. His courage was failing and his voice shook, but he had opened the door for Zollin to prove his innocence.

  “I will prove it,” Zollin said. “Bring Estry the Tailor here.”

  There was a commotion in the crowd, and after a minute the tall, thin tailor stepped forward. Priam was right behind him, staring daggers at Zollin.

  “Keynon, I ask that your guards would surround me with weapons drawn.”

  The beleaguered-looking commander waved his hand. A few of his guards moved around Zollin, but others refused. The young wizard waved the guards closer, until their swords were only inches from his neck.

  “Ask Estry your questions about the night King Hausey died. If he says I was not in his home, you can kill me.”

  “You’ll use your magic to kill him,” snarled one of the ministers, their courage returning as Zollin placed himself at the mercy of the Royal Guards.

  “Not before these loyal guards can slay me. Is this not what you wanted? If I am guilty then I will be executed. But my wife’s father is an honorable man. Those of you who know him know his reputation. I trust him with my life. Ask Estry your questions.

  Keynon stepped forward as the tailor approached the stage.

  “You remember the night King Hausey died?” the commander asked.

  “Yes,” Estry said, his voice sounding strained.

  “And wa
s this wizard with you that night?”

  Estry looked at Zollin, and for a brief moment the young wizard wondered if Brianna’s father would betray him.

  “Yes,” Estry said. “He joined us for dinner and stayed with us the entire night. We were up late talking and he slept by the fire. The next morning he left.”

  “Can you prove that he didn’t leave while you slept?”

  “I had our home locked up, but it is an old building. The floors creak. I’m a light sleeper. I do not think that Zollin could have left our home without me knowing.”

  Keynon looked at the ministers.

  “That proves nothing,” one of them shouted. “He’s a wizard. He could have murdered our king from outside the castle. This is not proof.”

  “Estry has given testimony of my innocence,” Zollin said. “Do you have proof of my guilt?”

  The ministers were silent.

  “Can anyone bring any proof that I harmed King Hausey?”

  Again silence filled the feasting hall. After a moment Zollin was about to speak again when a timid voice spoke up.

  “I have testimony?” one of the castle servants said.

  The crowd began to murmur but Zollin’s most critical opponent hushed them.

  “Let her forward,” the minister demanded. “Let her speak!”

  The servant was a young woman, her face round and her hands red. She clasped them tightly over her stomach as she moved toward the high table. Zollin had no memory of the woman, but the ministers seemed just as surprised by the servant coming forward as Zollin was.

  “You have testimony,” Keynon asked.

  “I do,” she said, in a small voice. The crowd surged forward, straining to hear.

  “Speak up!” Keynon ordered.

  “Yes, I’m sorry. I was King Felix’s chamber maid. I was with him during his long illness.”

  “What does that have to do with anything?” the minister demanded.

  “Well, I saw the recovery that King Felix had after Zollin used his magic to heal him. He was on death’s doorstep, but Zollin healed him overnight.”