Three

 CHAPTER THREE

            North of Munten stood Drummond Castle; glimmering polished marble slabs danced the sunlight from their smooth surfaces.  In a window, high in the tower stood a large dark figure, hands clasped behind him, staring out over the land with black hate filled eyes.  His clothing was of the finest silks, tunic and pants of deep purple.  His hair shone like a polished jet stone in the sunlight that flooded the enormous room.

            A servant quietly pushed the huge oak doors open and silently placed a tray of fruits, bread, and flask of wine on the small table beside the tall dark man.  Bowing, the servant silently moved back and out of the wooden doors as quietly as he had entered.  All this time the tall dark man did not once acknowledge the servant’s presence.  Turning, he sat in the large high-back chair beside the small table and poured himself some wine.  Sitting there, he stared down into the goblet at the dark creature looking back at him in the reflection.  Quickly he took the goblet to his mouth and drank it all down.

            Anger filled his chest as he thought of his mother.  “She deceived me, that witch.  She hid her child.”  Quickly he poured another goblet of wine.  “Did she really think she could do this without me finding out?  What a fool she was.  No wonder she crumbled so quickly under my powers.”  Again, he emptied the goblet at one swallow.

            Getting up, he walked back to the window, eyes searching, mind racing with plans and ideas.  “I must find her.  If she comes forward, she will claim the throne from me and all will be lost.  I must destroy her now, quickly.”

            He returned to the chair and grabbing a piece of fruit, remembered back when his plan first began. 

            Tierk was the first born of the High Drummond, but because he was a male child, things were not well.  Only females became High Drummond, unless of course, there were no female heirs. 

            Tierk was a very spoiled child and doted on by his mother, the High Drummond.  She took him everywhere with her and proudly showed him off to the entire county.  He never knew his father.  He had been killed in battle only a few months before Tierk was born, but his mother tried hard to be both for him.  She loved him dearly, but soon it could be seen, too dearly.  He became demanding and spoiled.  If Tierk did not get his way, he would fly into uncontrollable rages, throwing anything in his reach, and usually at the servants.  He became mean and selfish and turned spiteful toward his mother.  Tierk rarely smiled or laughed then, and was always angry.

            Time went on and he soon discovered his mother’s magic.  One night on the full of the moon, he silently followed her, discovering her secret room.  He always knew of this room but was never allowed in or even told of its location.  He detested the fact he had been kept from the knowledge of this.  On this night, he decided he would now find out where it was. 

            Hiding in the dark shadows of the huge castle corridors, he quietly followed the Drummond.  He kept as stealth as he could completely unnoticed by her.  Down stairs and deep into the lower regions of the castle where he had never ever ventured before, he followed.  At last, they had reached a wall, a plain blank wall with no particular interest on it.  Standing there his mother raised her arms and chanted three names, “Etrana, Morga, and Anora.  The three who are the key, I ask this door be opened, be opened to me.”  Slowly the wall began to move to one side dragging stone on stone.  Once opened far enough, she slipped through and the wall moved shut.  Tierk sat there waiting for what seemed like hours for her to return.  As he began to doze off, the young boy awakened by the sound of dragging stone and through the small opening, his mother again appeared, walking almost upon him, not even noticing him.  He waited a bit longer to make sure she was not returning, got up, and stood in front of the wall.  He scanned his memory trying to remember the chant.  He tried it several times then finally the wall began to move.  Hurriedly, he slipped through the opening.

            As he entered, his eyes filled with the glorious sparkles and glitters of all the sacred objects around him, many he had heard about through out his child years in stories and tales his mother had told him.  He had begun to disbelieve her when he reached his teen years, dismissing them as only child’s tales, but now his eyes could not believe what lay before him.  On a large altar lay the double-edged golden sword, the greatest power against all other power.  Goblets, trinkets of many legends, jewels of magic, and so much more, before him were things that could give him anything he desired.  There, at the centre of the expansive room, was the Crystal of Drummond, the source of his mother’s power, the High Drummond’s power.  It glimmered in the torch light almost beckoning him to it. Much larger than he thought it would be, it stood almost five feet high and two feet across, black as night but still transparent.  Reaching up, he slowly and cautiously touched it.  Immediately the coldness of the stone began to tingle up his fingers and into his arm.  Surprised, he quickly withdrew his hand.  There was a slight ringing coming from the stone as it stood in front of him daring him to feel its power once more.  Again he reached but with both hands, and placed his palms flat against the dark glass like crystal. 

            Closing his eyes he felt the power surging into him, penetrating every part of his body and mind, feeding him and feeding from him.  It was almost orgasmic.  He felt as though the stone and he had become one and as he opened his eyes, he could see he was inside, completely enveloped by it.  The rush of power was amazing and energizing as he stood inside the crystal absorbing all the power of it.  He liked this and wanted more, but he suddenly found himself sitting on the floor in front of the crystal, staring up at it.

            A broad grin crossed his face as he realized he was now much stronger and for some reason much wiser.  Standing up, he noticed a chip of the crystal lay at his feet.  Picking it up, he held it to the light of the torches.  Inside a cloud rolled around, turning red.  Again, he felt the power of the crystal tingling up his arm.  This he would keep with him always, he thought.  It would be his connection to the main Crystal and always be part of him.  Quickly he stuck it in his pocket and left the room.  Silently he snuck back to his room and lay on his bed looking at the chip of crystal in his hand.  Now he had much to learn and much to plan.

            The months and nights passed and Tierk visited the secrets of the black crystal as often as he could.  He planned on how to gain control over all.  He wanted it, needed it as much as he needed to breath.  Then the devastating news of his mother’s pregnancy came.  If she gave birth to a female child, all would be lost.  A way to stop her had to be conceived.  Consulting with the black crystal each night he could get away, he decided to induce a power over his mother to make her miscarry.  Working feverishly each night with the crystal, he caused his mother to become ill.  She suffered from severe stomach pain and high fevers.  All were very concerned as he stood back and smiled to himself.  He was learning to harness the crystal’s power now.  It would not be long before he could take over everything.

            Upon returning to the room one evening, he noticed the Golden Sword of Truth was missing.  He panicked and searched everywhere for it.  “That Bitch!” he swore, “Where has she put it.?  What has she done with it?”  He stormed from the room and to his mother’s chambers in a rage.  He would strangle it out of her.  Blasting into the room, all the servants scattered.  They all knew and feared his rages and temper.

            Looking down at his mother in her bed, eyes black with anger, he screamed at her, “Where is the Sword?  What have you done with it?”

            She slowly opened her eyes and looked at him with such a power in her eyes he had never seen before.  It was a look of someone he did not know and he stepped back from the bed.

            “Dare not my wrath,” she whispered.  “I am not dead yet.  Now go from here.  I do not want to ever lay eyes upon you again.”  She raised her hand and twitched it towards him, throwing him across the room with unseen force.  “Go from here and never return.  I renounce you as my flesh and blood.”  She turned her head back and closed her eyes.

            Tierk sat there speechless, hurt, and in shock.  Quickly he got up and grabbed the servant next to him.  Viciously he bit her cheek taking out a large chunk of flesh and spat it on the floor, throwing the innocent woman across the room, then ran from the room leaving the servant screaming in pain as the others gathered around her.

            Tierk quickly ran to the crystal room, his heart now intent on killing his mother and sibling.  She has betrayed him and now she will die.  He paced back and forth in front of the radiating black stone trying to think of a way to find the sword.  Where would she have put it?  The Tri-Narg had something to do with this he was sure.  Whom would they trust with the Sword of Truth?  Where would they put it to keep it safe?  It had to be Hardorin, that crazy wizard.  He must be the one who has it.  There must be a way to get it back from him.  He walked to the crystal and softly touched it.  The cloud within began to boil and swirl turning deep blood red.  In it, Tierk could see the Tower of Truth where the sword lay on its purple cushion.  He would get it soon, but first he must deal with his dear mother.  Turning swiftly he left the chamber.

            In his mother’s room the servants had left except one, Secha, her faithful and devoted maid in waiting sat beside her mistress’ bed quietly watching the High Drummond sleep.  As she straightened the ruffled covers, Tandra, the High Drummond, softly took Secha’s hand.  “I must speak with the Tri-Narg and as soon as possible.  This child will be born soon and Tierk must not know.  Arrangements must be made for the child’s safety.  I am too weak to call them.”  She took a deep ragged breath.  “You must send word to one of them to make arrangements for me.  Go quickly my sweet; this child wants to be born now.”  She turned her head back to her pillow.

            Secha moved quickly to the door of the bedchamber and called in another servant to watch over her mistress while she put on her cape and flew from the room, down the corridor and out of the castle.  In less than an hour, she came upon the farmhouse.  There was still light in the windows and she ran and knocked on the door.

            Pendor opened the door with a stern look on his face, “What brings you to my door at such a late hour young woman?”

            Secha trying to catch her breath, “I must speak with Anora.  It is of utmost importance Sir.  I am sent by the High Drummond.”

            Pendor’s face went pale as he quickly brought the young woman into the house.  Sitting her down on a chair, he gave her a cup of water.  “Anora is putting our son to sleep.  I will get her.”  He turned swiftly to the other room.

            Anora came out straightening her hair and looking at the young girl, began to move even faster toward her.  “What is it?  What is so wrong to bring you all the way here at such a late hour, Secha?”  Anora knelt beside Secha’s chair.  She instantly knew who Secha was.  It had to be something urgent for her to come all this way.

            In a blabbering mess and tears, Secha related the story of what had happened that night with the High Drummond.  Anora did not realize how sick the High Drummond had become and quickly guilt began to fill her soul.  As Secha choked out the story, Anora stroked her hand and hair trying to sooth the woman.  “She says the child is coming now and we have to get it to safety as soon as we can.  She wants you and the other Tri-Narg to make arrangements.  Oh, I am so worried for my mistress.  It is only because of the child she holds on to life.  I fear she will die soon after the child is born.”  She covered her face in her hands and sobbed uncontrollably.

            Pendor stood beside Anora as she turned and looked at him.  Her eyes were full of guilt and desperation.  Pendor turned to the door gathering his coat.  “I will go fetch Hardorin.  He is in Paite staying with Domi.  He must be alerted as soon as possible.”  He swiftly went out the door.

            Anora handed Secha a cloth to wipe her eyes and another cup of water.  “Please, stay here with Richard.  He is sleeping and should not wake.  Just keep an eye out for him.  I must try to contact my sisters.”  She had a worried look on her face.  “It has been a long time since I have tried this so it may take a couple of times.”  She got up and went out the door into the star filled night.

            Pacing back and forth in front of the barn, she tried to calm her mind.  So many things were running through her mind now and the guilt for what may be her doing filled her heart.  She stopped pacing and stood very still, closing her eyes, and deep breathing.  She called in her mind, to her sisters, repeating over and over their names.  “Morga, Etrana, please hear me.”  She repeated it again and suddenly she heard their voices running through her head.  Both were very surprised and excited causing a blurring mess of sound and noise in her head.  Slowly they settled and after they greeted her, she began to relay the tale of the servant.  Both were very alarmed and concerned.

            “We must take the child out quickly,” replied Morga.  “We knew of this for sometime now, dear sister.  We wanted to tell you but thought you would not listen to us.  Oh, how we have missed you.”

            “Never mind all the sentiment now, Morga.  She knows we miss her.  We have to get Hardorin in action with our plan.”  Etrana was the oldest and always the matriarch of the three.

            Anora answered, “So you have a plan already?  Hardorin is prepared for this?”

            Etrana cleared her throat, “Well he is arranging it now, we hope.  He is talking with Domi and his wife.  We are hoping they will take the child.  Tierk would never look for her there.”

            “It is a girl then?” asked Anora.

            “Oh yes,” replied Morga.  “We have known of this for sometime now.  I fear after tonight, Tierk may try something more than just pain on his mother.  We fear he may try to kill her now she has disowned him.  He is evil Anora, very evil.  We have suspected him using the crystal for some time.  The Sword has been moved into Hardorin’s keeping.  Now the child must be moved before Tierk knows it is even born.”

            Anora’s heart was breaking, “This is my fault.  I should never have denied my vows.  Now so much trouble has started.  If I had just fulfilled my destiny as it was to be.”

            “Do not be so foolish girl,” snapped Etrana.  “You are fulfilling your destiny.  Even with you here, Tierk still would have found and abused the black crystal.  We do not have as much control over our destiny as you may think.  We play out our role, as it is to be.  We have no say in that.  You were to marry Pendor for a reason.  That is all there is to it.  That is your destiny.  Now, when Hardorin comes back with Pendor tell him to begin.  Tandra will give birth tonight, the signs have been sent for it.  He must get the child out as soon as he can.  He knows what to do.”