Reign of Madness Read online

  Reign of Madness

  A Novella

  J.R. Lawrence

  Chapter One

  War is Coming

  “There’s trouble in the mountains,” the nobleman said to his Lord and Lady. He was dark of head, and wore a red tunic and green surcoat over a linen shirt. “Spiders are killing the livestock in the dead of night. They have set webs in the orchards, making it impossible for my servants to pick anything.”

  Dane nodded. He looked puzzled as he scratched his grey goatee thoughtfully. His hair was generally dark like his mothers’, Queen Dela, though it was speckled with grey. He wore his purple tunic and black fur surcoat. “I’m sure my sons, Driskel and Mathis can deal with them. I’ll have a detachment of troops sent into the mountains presently.”

  The nobleman bowed. Turning, he departed out of the castle.

  Dela nudged her son’s arm. “Dane, must I remind you that Driskel hasn’t been in Grindle for a week?” She was wearing a green dress; her hair was neatly braided and tied on top of her head.

  Dane sighed. “Yes, mother, I am aware. I’m sure he’ll be back soon enough. He said he was hunting the white wolf in Pastwall.”

  The doors to the throne room suddenly banged open as Driskel Blackroot drug a disembodied head by long black hair, smeared in mud and stuck with twigs. His golden hair was matted where his blood had dried. His half-plate armor was chipped in places, and there were remnants of blood where he’d been hit. His father, King Dane of Grindle, and his grandmother, Queen Dela, rose from their thrones, their faces a mixture of horror and alarm.

  “The witch of Bristlewood, Melan Animus!” Driskel cried. His face shone in the daylight pouring in from the open doors, gold hairs sprouting on his chin and upper lip as a result of his long journey without a razor. He flung the head forehead, and it rolled to the bottom of the dais upon which were the thrones of the King and Queen. “The Order of Chaos wanted war… well, now they have it. It starts with House Animus!”

  Dane’s expression changed, and he looked with resolution at his son. “Very well, Driskel. It is war.”

  *****

  “Are you mad?”

  Mathis Graymont slammed his fist into the table. The ink which had marked the Midwall Mountains and the city of Grindle crunched beneath his fist. He was a dirty blond and kept his face cleanshaven and his head trimmed, Lady Leona’s sister’s son; although he seemed to favor the brown head of his father. He wore the ceremonial armor of House Blackroot, the sigil of his house emblazoned on the breastplate – a black root twisted around a silver dagger. “The Order of Chaos will dismantle us before we have time to strategize! You should have waited for your father’s permission!”

  “I think the Blackroots have waited long enough!” Driskel retorted. He was cleanshaven and washed, his hair slick and tied in a top knot. “My grandfather was murdered on the road to Wilhelm! I’ll not sit back and wait on an old fool to let the bastards get away with it! I wanted the head of the witch responsible, and I got it! What have you done?”

  “I’ve been training new recruits for this war!” Mathis bellowed. He reached across the table, grabbing Driskel by the front of his brown tunic. “I’ll break your nose for this!”

  “Listen to your brother, Mathis…” Dane said with a heavy sigh. He sat at the back of the room, leaning on his knees as he listened to their bickering.

  “He’s not my brother!” Mathis spat.

  Dane leapt to his feet. “Am I not your father, boy? Did I not take you into my house, give you a bed, food, a title that raises you above the common people? Are you so ungrateful?”

  “No,” Mathis replied, cooling down, “I’m sorry… father.”

  Dane waved his hand at him, dismissing the thought. “It doesn’t matter. Driskel slew the witch and her demon in Bristlewood, and now we have the Order of Chaos to contend with.”

  Mathis and Driskel were silent, reading the map on the table between them.

  “We can expect an attack from Thorburn and the north… not sure what may come from the east…” Dane leaned on his fists, pressing his knuckles into the table.

  “Eastmark and the Order are longtime rivals,” said Driskel. “The enemy of my enemy is my friend, right?”

  Dane nodded. He scratched his chin. “We need to talk with the rest of the family if we’re going to have a clear plan. Bring Constantine; he may have some insight into the Order of Chaos.”

  Mathis turned away, going to do as his father – and lord – bid.

  Once Dane and Driskel were alone, Dane looked at his son with a firm expression. “Mathis is right, son. You should have waited to strike Melan.”

  “You would never have given me the opportunity!”

  “Listen to me now, boy!” Dane roared. He stood up straight, brushing the wrinkles out of his purple tunic. He walked around the table to stand closer to Driskel. “My father, your grandfather… Raymond… he was afraid of the Order of Chaos, and he was right to be afraid. Not just because he realized they would eventually take his life, but because he knew that if it came to it, Grindle wouldn’t have a chance to fight back.”

  “But father…”

  “Wait! Wait, let me speak. The Order of Chaos is older than most of this land. They’ve dealt with uprisings in the past. We thought Wilhelm was next on their list of heretics, when really, it was us. When it comes to war, we must always bring the fight to the enemy. We don’t want to be left without a way for escape.”

  “So, we march on them…”

  “Not necessarily.” Dane sighed, looking at the map. “We don’t have the manpower to march a legion across Aldabaar.”

  “It would be prudent for us to wait,” Constantine Lindon spoke as he stepped into the room, glancing down at the battle map. The master of the Court of Wizards in Grindle wore his ceremonial black robes. His hair was jet black, cropped to his head, and his face cleanshaven. His eyes were a deep green like the sea.

  Behind him, Queen Dela and Dane’s wife, Leona, followed. Leona’s hair was a bright gold that radiated in the candlelight. She wore it loose down her back. Mathis led Jennifer – a mirror image of her mother, Leona – and Shroud in moments later. Shroud was the youngest of the Blackroot’s, nineteen years old, and the only one who seemed to favor the dark hair of his father and grandmother.

  “At least allow me to run a patrol route in Fearnest Forest and the King’s Highway to keep an eye out for spies and assassins, like the ones who killed grandfather.” Driskel folded his arms stubbornly.

  Dane nodded. “I’ll allow it, but we must deal with the spiders first. You and Mathis should take a dozen men into the mountains to exterminate them.”

  “And Shroud,” Driskel said, looking at his younger brother.

  “No,” said Leona. “He hasn’t had enough experience.”

  “Mother, I can hold my own against a couple of spiders.” Shroud looked at the woman with a furrowed brow.

  “I’ve seen him slay the were-rats in the sewers,” Jen chimed in. “He’s capable, by my standards.”

  “We’ll keep an eye on him” added Mathis.

  “He must never leave your side, Driskel.” Leona said, looking at her eldest son with a fervent expression.

  “Agreed,” said Driskel. “I’ll hold his hand the whole way.”

  “I don’t need you to hold my damn hand!” Shroud’s scowl deepened as he looked at Driskel.

  Driskel only smirked, waving his hand at his brother.

  “I don’t need you all talking about me as if I weren’t here and were completely incapable! I’m a ranger after all!” Shroud yelled.

  Ignoring his comments, Jen spoke up, “While the two of them scour the mountains for rodents, I’ll place wards around the city limits.” She was an expert
mage, specializing in ice magic. “We’ll be notified if anything hostile enters the gate.”

  Constantine chuckled.

  Jen looked at her master, offended. “You think I’m insufficient?”

  “No, of course not,” Constantine said. “But when the Order attacks – and I say when because it is inevitable now – they’ll shatter whatever defenses we have prepared.” He shot Driskel a wary glance – something that was becoming a regular occurrence since returning with the head of Melan Animus.

  Dela Blackroot shook her head at the warlock master. “You don’t have faith in the defense of this city?”

  Constantine shrugged. “I served as the high priest of madness under King Raymond for years; I know how the Order works. It won’t take them long to break every stone.”

  Driskel laughed, not trying to hide his humor. “Forgive me, warlock, but you don’t understand the strength we fighters possess. A caster will never win against my great sword, Devil Bane…”

  “Is that what you’re calling it now,” Jen said, grinning with some mockery in her voice.

  “I slew a demon, Jen…”

  “A lesser demon, need I remind you.” Constantine hid his hands in the folds of his robe, sighed, and looked at Dane. “My lord, I couldn’t insist that you take more caution in regard to…”

  Dane put up his hand to silence him. “I’ve heard enough from all of you. Mathis, Driskel and Shroud will take a detachment of our best men into the mountains. Jen will prepare her defenses on the walls. And Constantine, do not doubt the depth of my love for my family. I would do … anything … for my children.”

  Constantine bowed to his King. He departed the chamber.

  Dane looked at all the faces of his family – his mother, wife, sons and daughter. He smiled briefly at them. “I shall retire. All this nonsense of war and spiders has made me weary.”

  Taking his wife by the hand, Leona and Dane walked out after Constantine. Dela followed shortly. Only Mathis, Driskel, Jen, and Shroud remained in the chamber.

  They didn’t speak for some time. Eventually, Jen broke the silence. She snapped her finger, throwing a small shard of ice into Driskel’s hand as he reached for one of the flags on the map.

  “Ow!” Driskel exclaimed, recoiling from the table.

  The three of them laughed at him.

  “Stop that, Jen! It hurts!”

  “Don’t be a baby, Driskel,” said Jen, sticking out her tongue at him. “What was that you were saying to Constantine; you don’t understand the strength we fighters possess?”

  “Shut up!” Driskel rubbed his hand to chase away the biting chill.

  “Maybe you’re not ready for the spiders,” Mathis said wryly.

  “No,” said Shroud, looking from one face to the other with a stern expression. He grinned suddenly. “I’ll hold his hand.”

  The roar of laughter echoed in the castle, and for a moment, the thought of war was forgotten.

  Chapter Two

  Belly of the Beast

  Mathis Graymont and Driskel Blackroot were careful to not let their party take any action. It was no surprise to come across a spider's lair. This one was comprised of enormous webs made of half-inch thick strands running from stalagmite to stalactite, positioned for prey to walk into. However, hellvane steel was specifically crafted to cut through these strands, making it much less of a hassle for adventurers to pick their way in the dark. Cutting the strands would alert the spiders to their approach; they had to make sure everyone was strategically positioned before making themselves known. The spiders were four-foot-tall in the Midwall Mountains, and capable of paralyzing a full-grown horse.

  Shroud stayed close to Driskel, as was the agreement with their parents. Driskel would keep a close eye, even a hand, on Shroud throughout the encounter. Mathis put his hand up from his position on the far side of the cavern, signaling to Driskel that he and the troops on his side were ready; Driskel returned the sign.

  Zane approached the nearest thread of silk, a short sword in one hand, Cole and Sil backing him up with crossbows. Zane put the edge of his hellvane blade against the strand, sliding it gently across its surface until it broke and swung loose from the body of the web above them. There was absolute silence as the troops waited, and waited. After a few minutes they were still waiting. Something was wrong.

  Shroud bumped Driskel’s arm, not daring to whisper in the heavy silence. At first, Driskel ignored him, expecting the apprentice to ask another ignorant question. But Shroud’s next nudge was insistent, and Driskel forced his eyes away from the broken thread. He looked across to Shroud, who stared straight up at the ceiling towards the hundreds of webs, and hundreds more pairs of arachnid eyes glowing red in the darkness.

  They were waiting for something. Driskel felt a chill run down his spine, and peeling his eyes away he glanced over his shoulder. Behind them, the passageway had been sealed by a wall of webs.

  He cursed under his breath, breaking the silence, and Mathis shot a glare in his direction. But the glare lasted only until he noticed the spiders crawling along the walls surrounding them, sealing off any passage with their silky threads. Mathis drew his sword, standing to call for the retreat just as a spider dropped from the ceiling and seized him with its claws. Before anything could be done, Mathis and the spider vanished into the darkness above them.

  Surprised, the party cursed and shouted, drawing swords and daggers as they were beset by the fiendish monsters.

  Driskel drew his great sword and crossed the chamber toward Zane, Cole, and Sil by the broken strand. They stood dumbfounded, looking at him as he broke into a sprint. Cole was seized from behind and dragged, screaming, into the darkness beyond their site. Zane and Sil turned about as another spider dropped onto the floor, scuttling in their direction with legs reaching toward them. It let out a hiss, spitting green slime onto their boots.

  Distracted by the charging arachnid, the two soldiers didn't see the one descending from the webs above them. But Driskel was there in the next instant, his blade cutting upwards to slice its web, and it came crashing down. His boot came down on top of its head, spraying black goo across the stones as it exploded.

  Zane and Sil easily defeated the spider charging at them, its backup having been destroyed. But the group was soon fighting for their lives; the spiders that had swarmed on the walls fell upon them in numbers and strength that no one could have anticipated.

  Driskel looked back to where he had left Shroud, and saw his brother crouching in one corner, looking with horror at the onslaught around them. When Shroud made eye contact with Driskel, the fear fled his eyes. Driskel pointed with his sword at the entrance to the cavern, sealed by the webs.

  “Get us out of here!” Driskel ordered him, and without hesitation Shroud went to do as bidden.

  Shroud drew the short sword and dirk Driskel had lent him from the armory, running at the webs that blocked their escape, and drove them through the thick strands with hardly any restraint. But before he could cut a hole in the material, he was knocked over by the arms of one of the spiders. His sword got tangled in the thick web, the dirk knocked from his grasp by one of the spider's pedipalps. Its jaws snapped over his face, dripping green slime that burned his skin and smelled awful. When it came about to opening its large jaws again, this time with fangs exposed and ready to bite into his throat, Shroud opened his hand and shoved it as far down its throat as he could. Grabbing at the first thing he felt, he pulled.

  The spider hissed, green and black ooze pouring out of its mouth as it scurried back from him. Overcome with the thrill of the fight, and the victory he had at hand, Shroud picked up his sword and pursued. Catching it as it began to crawl up the wall, he held it by one of its legs and rammed his sword into its face until it stopped struggling, and fell back to the ground in a heap of steamy liquid.

  Driskel stepped out of a tangled mess of spider legs, his boots and swords soaked in their blood. He looked across the chamber to watch Shroud cut an opening in th
e webs and then step back to examine his hand. It was obvious where it had gone, his skin covered in slime that stung and burned his nose with its stench. He swooned, dropping his sword to the ground.

  “Rookie,” Driskel muttered as he shook his head, grinning in slight amusement.

  A commotion to his right captured his atten-tion. Looking that way, Driskel watched as a soldier, Darin, cut an opening in the passage. Turning around, Darin cried for others to follow him out. Not surprisingly, those who heard him followed.

  Driskel had studied the mountain tunnels here, memorizing every side corridor and passage-way. If his memory was correct, he knew that the passage Darin had just opened led to nowhere good.

  “No, don't go that way!” Driskel called after them, but it was too late. Cursing, he decided he had no other choice but to follow.

  Hesitating, Driskel looked back at those who remained in the chamber behind him. He knew he couldn't leave them alone, but he also couldn't knowingly allow the others to wander into danger.

  A hand grabbed his arm, slimy and hot with the blood of the spiders, and turning to regard the person, Driskel was surprised to see Mathis staring wildly into his eyes.

  “You're alive!” Driskel exclaimed, looking his companion up and down.

  Mathis was covered from head to toe in slime that couldn’t be anything, but spider remains. It dripped from his hands and blade, pooling underneath his boots. An appendage still clung to his cloak, having been ripped from the spider's body as he made his escape.

  “Not for long, I think,” Mathis replied.

  Driskel raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

  Mathis looked up, back to the hell he had just escaped from. “I may or may not have awakened the big one,” he said.

  Driskel groaned, looking at the battle that encompassed them. The others were doing well holding off the spiders for the time being. But if Mathis was right, if the mother was on her way, they wouldn't last much longer.

  He looked his commander in the eye. “Pull them back,” he said. “Get everyone out before that thing wakes up! Shroud cut us an exit back there.”