Thirty-Nine

"Finished?" Dumar asked, receiving a curt nod in reply. "Then allow me to reply," the big man said.

"I didn't say anything about invading anyone for starters," Dumar raised a cautionary finger. "But why not just send a small group to deal with Malthrom directly?" He asked to an almost stunned silence.

The atmosphere within the room changed, as if this was a new way of thinking, something no one had considered before. Celouise and Fultard appeared to be thinking hard about the suggestion while Polstice Narami had the hint of a smile on his ancient face.

Princess Alystra continued her study of Dumar as her brother, Prince Warval, looked at Dumar with something like adoration on his face. Celouise looked around the table at each member of her advisory team.

"Would that work?" She asked of no one in particular.

Grethron nodded at his sister in law.

"In theory at least. As long as I get to Malthrom and bind his power, the only task to be completed would be to...well you know."

"What if you do not manage to bind this power he has?" The question came from Fashzhamina and Grethron turned to address the general.

"You might want to study your history, general, thousands died at his hands last time he invaded. If I fail, he will destroy everyone else and each life taken will only make him that much stronger."

Dumar had been thinking about this same point for a while.

"Hey, Greth?" The old man turned, casting a blank expression at Dumar. "I don't know much about this necromancy stuff but from what I do understand, each life taken gives either you or him power, right?"

Grethron nodded and Narami leaned forwards, interested.

"So, a couple of things. First, what decides whether it's you or him that gets this power and second, what happens when he kills everyone and the source of this power is gone?"

All eyes flicked to Grethron, who scratched at his head and beard while looking down at the map table. The old man cast his gaze sheepishly around the expectant faces all of which were trained on him.

"I believe there is a correlation between the proximity of Malthrom or I to a particular individual…"

Celouise cut him off with a raised hand.

"You believe?" She asked in surprise. "What do you mean you believe? Do you not know?"

Grethron sucked his lips in for a second.

"These are some of the issues which have been consuming my time for the past eighty years," the old man said.

Dumar's ears pricked up at this, how could Grethron have been missing for eighty years?

Even if he looked younger than eighty himself, how would it even be possible for Celouise and her children to know him if he had not been around for the best part of a century? The big man paid more attention to what Grethron was saying.

"The closer I appear to be to someone when they … pass away, the more likely it is that the power comes to me."

Commander Fultard looked inquisitive.

"Grethron, can I ask how you know when you get this power?"

The necromancer looked into his friend's face and an expression of sadness washed over him.

"There is an odd sensation, somewhat like a gentle prod at the base of my skull and I feel almost desperately sad for a few seconds." The old man looked down as if he was getting the feeling now.

"Why sad, Greth?" Celouise asked gently.

Grethron lifted his grey eyes to hers.

"I suppose it is due to the fact someone has just died, Cel."

Jesus! He must be almost constantly miserable if that's the case. Dumar thought.

Dumar noticed a minute twitch of the queen's hand towards Grethron before she managed to gain control of herself.

Her eyes darted about, pausing on each face in turn to see if anyone had noticed, Dumar lowered his own gaze before she realised he had seen it.

The old man took a weary breath, looking now as old as he must be, he swiped a hand across his face and slumped back in his chair.

"As for your second question Dumar, I believe Malthrom would have some manner of plan in place. I have spent some time on thought over this very issue, as you said, if he manages to slaughter everyone, he will have no source of power." Grethron cast a bleak look around his friends and family.

"The only way I can see of guaranteeing he has a continuing source of power is...to have a brood stock."

A chance breeze lifted the corners of some of the parchments which were stored within the room, as if an impish spirit had dashed through the palace.

Prince Warval shivered, his face paling even more.

"People?" The prince asked in a high, effeminate voice.

So that's why you don't say much. Dumar realised.

"He means to breed people?"

Grethron nodded.

"It is the only thing I can think of that makes sense. One more reason yet to halt his progress," the old man rumbled.

Like most of the people gathered around the table, with the exception of Alystra who seemed more intent on studying Dumar, Dumar himself was considering what kind of person this Malthrom had become.

He wants to keep people locked up so he's got children to kill and harvest their power. McCabe and the Company would jump at the chance to have him on their payroll.

The big man felt a ghostly fingertip slide icily down his spine at the same time as he dismissed the thought. That could never be allowed to happen.

Dumar felt a light tap on the back of his right hand, drawing him out of his thoughts. The ancient Polstice seated beside him leaned forward and asked a question.

"Would you be so kind as to escort an old man once around the palace grounds?"

Dumar had had enough of this stuffy room so agreed readily. The old churchman asked the queen's permission to leave and the pair left, Dumar surprised at how spry the old man was.

Fultard nodded to a pair of guards who filed out after the odd duo and followed at a discreet distance.

The two mismatched men made their way through the palace buildings in companionable silence before exiting into the bright sunshine outside.

Dumar drew in a few deep lungfuls of air, clearing his system of the smelly interior. His enhanced sense of smell was a distinct advantage in some circumstances, Dumar mused, but the smell of unwashed bodies and wood smoke grated on his nerves in the end.

Even out here in the, supposedly fresh, air he was aware of the near constant stink of burning wood, at least in the open it was diluted by the light breeze that tickled across his scalp.

To the side of the main palace buildings were manicured lawns and tended gardens with herbaceous borders and tiny, trimmed hedges surrounding everything.

Floral scents began to overlay the odour of smoke. Sweet pea and honeysuckle, along with hundreds more Dumar could not name.

They rounded a taller hedge and Dumar stopped, looking on in wonder as he saw a large field stretching away from him, entirely planted with a purple leafed plant covered in tiny blue flowers.

Several men and women appeared to be tending the plants and as the pair passed by them, clouds of scent assaulted Dumar's nostrils. Recognising the smell as one of the main ones from within the palace, he was not surprised when Polstice Narami spoke.

"Veladrin bushes. They are grown for their perfume and when crushed, the oil can be used in candles to enliven any room. Queen Celouise enjoys them enormously."

Dumar nodded and they carried on, the two guards shadowing them as they walked.

At the furthest point from the palace and the far end of the Veladrin field, Dumar and Narami came to a less well kept area.

The grass had been left to grow longer, shrubs had not been manicured into the likenesses of beasts or shapes, a rough path had been sheared through the grass which lay in brown clumps like wheat sheaves at their feet.

A little farther, Dumar could make out towering hills and a grey stone wall which probably marked the outer perimeter of the palace grounds.

The rough cut path led them up a slight incline, around a small hillock and to a broad lake fed by a stream which trickled out of the distant hills.

Glinting diamonds of light reflected from the water which appeared almost black but was as clear as glass. Dumar could easily see the silty bottom covered with rounded stones and the bright green tendrils of weed waving in the lazy current.

A silver fish wriggled gently through his visual range and Dumar held his hand up, casting a shadow over the water making the fish dart off.

A bank of reeds circled one half of the lake, long grass caressing the rest and a wooden pier had been built, leading out over the water for a little way.

Dumar noticed a paved area and wooden buildings which might indicate a changing area for swimming, there were also wooden benches scattered around and Narami made for one of these.

The two guards tried to make themselves as inconspicuous as possible which was a difficult task in the silver and blue of their uniforms. Dumar cast a final glance round the water, noting there was an outflow which led into the small hillock they had walked past, judging the direction, Dumar wondered if this was where the palace got some of its water.

Polstice Narami was still gulping in deep breaths after his exertion and looked at Dumar with one eye as the big man took a seat opposite him.

"Go on then, what you after?" Dumar asked bluntly.