The Warlock Senator (Book 2)

  The Warlock Senator

  By

  Sam Ferguson

  This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this book are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  THE WARLOCK SENATOR

  Copyright © 2014 by Sam Ferguson

  All Rights Reserved

  For my friends Anthony and Andrew

  Contents

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Books by Sam Ferguson

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  CHAPTER ONE

  Lord Lokton pulled his sword free from the body on the ground before him. He stood, turning about to survey the scene. His heart frantically throbbed in his chest. His lungs gulped air, heaving his chest up and down with each breath. The shouts and cries of battle began to die down. House Cedreau’s army had turned on its heels and was fleeing from the field. Lord Lokton looked down to the man at his feet. His eyes were still open, the anger and heat of battle still painted on his still, unmoving face.

  “My Lord, the battlefield is ours. We have routed them. Shall we give chase?” a lieutenant called out from behind.

  Lord Lokton bent down to the man at his feet and closed the corpse’s eyes. “No,” Lord Lokton said with a shake of his head. “Do not give chase.”

  “My Lord?” The lieutenant moved up beside him. “If we do not run them down they may have a chance to regroup.”

  “I said no!” Lord Lokton bellowed. “Let them go. There has been enough blood for one day.” Lokton stood and returned his sword to its sheath. He pointed off to the trees at the edge of the battlefield. “I want to know where that arrow came from. Send three men into the woods and find the man who slew Lord Cedreau.”

  The lieutenant nodded. “It will be done.”

  Another armored guard came running up to Lord Lokton. “Sir, are you hurt?”

  Lord Lokton recognized the guard as one of the corporals. He examined himself for the first time since the battle started. Blood was dripping out from under his left gauntlet and his armor was bent in at his right hip. “It is nothing, I will live.”

  “With respect, I should take a look,” the guard said.

  Lord Lokton looked up to see the lieutenant still standing near. “I thought I told you to go and find the assassin,” he growled. The lieutenant nodded and hurried away shouting for a few of the others to join him. Lord Lokton then turned back to the corporal. “Very well, but let’s be quick about it.”

  The corporal reached out and unhitched Lord Lokton’s armor to inspect the wounds underneath. “You were struck in the shoulder, but it is not serious,” he said. The corporal unceremoniously threw the armor down on the ground.

  “We were in parlay,” Lord Lokton said as he looked down to his bloody shoulder. “Who would have gone after Lord Cedreau during parlay?”

  “I don’t know milord,” the corporal said as he pulled a field kit from a satchel on his belt. “Please hold still while I clean the wound.” The corporal gripped Lokton’s left arm and scrubbed his shoulder. Lokton grimaced, but didn’t pull away.

  “Have you seen Sir Duvall?” Lord Lokton asked.

  The corporal shook his head. “No, milord. I have not.”

  “Do you know how many casualties we have suffered?”

  Again the corporal shook his head. “We should have the count later today, milord. Please hold still so I can finish.” The man pulled a thread through the gash in Lokton’s shoulder, pulling the skin a bit as he closed the wound.

  When it was finished, Lord Lokton Was quick to find a horse and make his way back to his home. As he galloped his horse through the battlefield he was hailed by those among his retinue who still lived. He stopped when he saw his blacksmith, Demetrius standing over a trio of dead men and nursing a cut in his thigh.

  “Are you alright, Demetrius?” Lord Lokton asked.

  “I am alright,” he responded. “Have you seen Sir Duvall?”

  Lord Lokton shook his head. “No, I was going to ask if you had seen him.”

  Demetrius’ face turned sour. “There is a part of me that would call your attention to the bad omens, and Tukai’s prophecy.”

  Lord Lokton shook his head. “I don’t believe in those,” he said. “Though, I understand that you do.”

  Demetrius nodded knowingly and pointed to one of the dead men in front of him. “I don’t anymore. Do you recognize this man?”

  Lord Lokton dismounted and looked closer. “One of ours,” Lokton said flatly. “I was not close to him though. Do you know him?”

  Demetrius shook his head. “I only know that he was one of the guards who watched Mr. Stilwell.” Demetrius looked away and spat on the ground. “Do you know what he told me before he died?”

  Lord Lokton folded his arms. “What?”

  “He said that the night Timon Cedreau was killed he was the guard watching Mr. Stilwell.”

  “That’s right, his name was Ben, I believe,” Lord Lokton cut in. “I spoke with him briefly the morning after Timon was murdered to make sure that Mr. Stilwell was still in his cell.”

  Demetrius nodded glumly. “Before Ben died, he told me that Mr. Stilwell had not been in his cell that night.”

  Lord Lokton stood rigid and clenched his jaw. Cold, hard eyes turned on the dead man. “What do you mean?”

  Demetrius stood up and placed a hand on his master’s good shoulder. “He said that Sir Duvall paid him ten gold pieces to allow Stilwell out for the night.”

  “What was he thinking?” Lokton fumed. “He should have told me.”

  Demetrius shrugged. “I guess at the time he thought it was the right thing to do. He said that Sir Duvall had told him you would not hold Lord Cedreau accountable for the magistrate’s murder. Since Ben knew the magistrate was Mr. Stilwell’s cousin, it didn’t take much more convincing than the ten gold Duvall gave him.”

  “Did he have any proof beyond his word?” Lord Lokton asked. Demetrius shook his head. Lord Lokton kicked a clump of dirt through the air and slammed a fist into an open palm. “Sir Duvall went into the parlay with me,” Lokton said. “So it couldn’t have been him in the woods.”

  “Yet, neither of us know where he is now,” Demetrius put in. “So perhaps he knows who was in the woods.”

  Lord Lokton nodded. “Take a few men and scour the woods. I have already sent a few others there. Bring me back the arrow that fell Lord Cedreau. I would be interested to see if it bore Mr. Stilwell’s markings.”

  “Isn’t Mr. Stilwell back in his cell?” Demetrius asked.

  “If Duvall could get him out once, maybe he was able to do it again.” Lord Lokton clambered atop his horse. “I will see if the treacherous leach is still there, and if he is, I will get a confession out of him so we can end this blood feud.”

  Without another word he spurred his horse on, tearing clods of dirt and grass out of the ground behind tempestuous hooves. His anger burned hot in his blood. Could the guard have been telling the truth? Why would Sir Duvall betray him like this? He couldn’t comprehend it. He had known Sir Duvall for many years, and he had always been a true friend.

  The horse panted and jerked benea
th him as it plodded up the last hill to Lokton Manor. The wild grasses of the field gave way to manicured hedges surrounding a well-kept lawn of emerald blades tucked inside an inner border of tulips and roses. Lord Lokton trampled through them and leapt off of his horse just a yard away from the steps leading up to the front door of his manor. He landed hard, bending down to steady himself with his good arm as he fought to maintain his balance.

  “Milord, are you alright?” one of the guards shouted.

  Lord Lokton looked up and rose to his feet. “I am fine. Where is Braun?”

  “He is inside milord,” the guard replied.

  “Have him meet me in the dungeon,” Lord Lokton instructed as he bounded up the steps.

  “Lord Lokton, please wait a moment,” the guard pleaded. “Your son was here.”

  Lord Lokton turned on his heels. “Erik was here?”

  The guard nodded. “Erik and a dwarf were ambushed in the forest.”

  “What? Is Erik alright? Is he here?” Lord Lokton all but forgot about Mr. Stilwell at the news of his son. He hadn’t seen him since the night the manor was attacked by a throng of Blacktongue assassins.

  The guard patted the air with his hands. “Braun is in the southern guest room with the dwarf. He can tell you everything about it.”

  Lokton barely let the guard finish before he ripped through the front door and sprinted through the halls to the southern guest room. His heavy boots clanked against the marble floor, chipping hunks of stone as he ran.

  He found the door to the southern guest room closed. He reached down and turned the knob. The door opened easily and he spied Braun standing next to the bed wherein a dwarf slept. He stopped and looked at the dwarf. A thick, long beard trailed down over the blue blanket from the dwarf’s strong chin. He was shorter than a human, but thickly muscled and obviously as hard as the stone the dwarves lived in.

  “My lord, you are hurt,” Braun called out as Trenton Lokton walked through the doorway.

  “I was told that this dwarf and my son were ambushed,” Trenton said, ignoring Braun’s stare at the red bandage on his left shoulder.

  Braun nodded. “It’s a long story, but Erik is safe.” Braun moved away from the bed. “Apparently they were coming to our aid and were ambushed in the forest by Janik, who was a warlock in disguise.”

  “Master Orres’ brother was a warlock?” Lord Lokton asked. He folded his arms and furrowed his brow. “And he tried to take Erik?”

  Braun nodded. “Erik told me that this dwarf saved him from Janik. The two were able to defeat the warlock together, but the dwarf was exhausted and required rest so Erik brought him here to rest.”

  “See to it that he has everything he needs then,” Trenton said. “Does he have a name?”

  “Erik said that the dwarf goes by Al,” Braun replied.

  Trenton bit his lower lip and narrowed his brow. “Strange name for a dwarf.”

  Braun nodded and shrugged. “Erik said it was short for something, but he didn’t say what. He said it was too hard to pronounce and would take too long to write out for me.”

  “Al it is then,” Trenton replied. “Were there any attacks here at the manor while I was afield?”

  “No, milord, except for your son, there were no others here.” Trenton nodded and rubbed his left arm with his right hand. “Is it bad, my lord?” Braun pointed to the bandage on Trenton’s left shoulder.

  “No, it’s a flesh wound, that’s all.”

  Braun nodded and folded his arms. It was obvious that he wanted more details. Trenton thought Braun was much like an overprotective dog, always underfoot and barking at every creature within fifty feet of its master. Braun had fumed when Trenton had told him to stay at the manor. The big man’s face had flushed and he begged to be allowed on the field with him, but Trenton had not wanted to leave the manor defenseless. So he placed Braun here with a small detachment of men, just in case.

  “Lord Cedreau is dead,” Trenton said with a sigh.

  Braun arched an eyebrow. “How?”

  “I’m not sure. One minute we were in parlay and the next an arrow went straight through his neck. It was an impossible shot. The arrow just slid between the bottom of the helmet and the steel collars of the hauberk.” Trenton shook his head and his eyes went distant. “Sir Duvall and I galloped away then. Cedreau’s whole army cried out that we had betrayed Lord Cedreau, but we didn’t. I didn’t have any man in the woods.”

  “Sounds like someone else took the opportunity to settle an old score,” Braun said.

  “I need to speak with Mr. Stilwell. Apparently he might have been released the night Timon was murdered.”

  Braun looked to the floor and held up his hand. “Shortly after you took the army this morning, one of the guards came to me and reported that Mr. Stilwell had escaped. I’m not sure how he did it. The guard on duty in the dungeon was also missing. I sent out a pair of men to track him, but I kept the rest here as you had ordered me to do.”

  “Good heavens, Braun, why didn’t you send a runner to me?” Trenton wailed.

  “It wouldn’t have done any good. You and I both know that if Stilwell doesn’t want to be found, he could stand on your toes and you wouldn’t see the man. Besides, I didn’t want you to have yet another thing to worry about. I thought it best to tell you after you had returned from the field.”

  “If it was Mr. Stilwell that slew Lord Cedreau, it will be extremely difficult for me to end the blood feud between our families.”

  “I am sorry, my lord,” Braun offered with a low bow of his head.

  “I suppose you did right Braun,” Trenton said at last. “I also have men in the forest, so hopefully between all of them, someone will find him and we can get to the bottom of this. We are also looking for Sir Duvall.”

  “Sir Duvall, what for?” Braun asked.

  “The guard who was on duty the night Timon was killed said that Sir Duvall paid him ten gold to let Mr. Stilwell out for the night.” He walked over to the bed and looked down at the gray-haired dwarf, ignoring Braun’s dumbfounded stare. “Either way it matters little now. If he and Mr. Stilwell are working together, I doubt we will find them.”

  “I presume that we won the battle?” Braun asked changing the subject.

  “It’s interesting, isn’t it?” Trenton asked, ignoring Braun. “The dwarf is quite a tough looking fellow, yet he sleeps as silently as a newborn. I would have thought that dwarves snored.”

  “Sir, what of the battle?”

  “Yes, Braun, we won.” Trenton closed his eyes and laid his right hand to the hilt of his sword. “We routed Lord Cedreau’s army and sent them home. But they will be back. With Timon and Lord Cedreau dead, you can bet that Eldrik will not wait for long before he brings an army back here to finish this business of blood.”

  “Then we should prepare,” Braun put in.

  “Excuse me,” a guard called from the doorway. Braun shot the man an angry glare. The guard bowed his head reverently but entered the room anyway. “Forgive me for disturbing you, but I thought you should know that senator Bracken has arrived.”

  “What?” Trenton asked. He shook his head and patted the dwarf’s foot. “I presume he wants an audience?” The guard nodded his head.

  “Well, don’t stand there like a mute statue boy, when is the senator going to want the audience?” Braun asked.

  “Right now,” Senator Bracken said sternly as he appeared in the doorway behind the guard. The room seemed to grow colder as he pushed passed the startled guard and stepped through the doorway, as though he brought the chill of winter with him. No, it was the chill of death. Senator Bracken clasped his hands in front of his white flowing robes, thereby prominently displaying the purple stripes encircling the rim of the sleeves. A golden medallion, the symbol of his office, hung from his neck, sliding side to side with each step. His dark, oiled hair gleamed in the light, accentuating his cold umber eyes. His chin seemed to form a point under the thin lips that sneered at Trenton. Somethi
ng was terribly wrong.

  “House Lokton welcomes you, honorable Senator Bracken. May I offer you some wine or perhaps some fruit?” Trenton offered.

  “Lord Lokton, perhaps we may dispense with the pleasantries,” Senator Bracken replied coolly. “I am here on a matter of most serious business.”

  “The senate sent you to investigate the murder of the magistrate?” Braun asked.

  Senator Bracken turned a fierce eye to Braun. The brown orbs looked up and down the captain of the guard disdainfully before the senator spoke. “I am here to speak with Lord Lokton, not the hired help.”

  Braun bristled, but kept his mouth silent. Trenton stepped forward and took the lead. “What may I assist you with?”

  “For starters, you can explain to me why you have started a war on the king’s land? Do you not know that the kingdom is in dire straits as it is without your petty squabbles over land and wealth?”

  “I did not start-” Trenton began to reply but he was cut off.

  “Do not play games with me!” Bracken yelled. He clapped his hands and two large, heavily armed sentries came through the doorway. They pushed the other guard into the room, toward the bed. Lokton’s guard reflexively pulled his sword half way out of its scabbard and Braun went for the axe at his belt. “I see your help has no problems committing treason,” Senator Bracken growled.

  “Braun, stay your hand,” Trenton said, though he made sure his own sword was loose in its scabbard. “What is the meaning of this, Senator Bracken?”

  “By order of the senate, you are under arrest for high treason, Lord Lokton. Your two guards here might be able to help you escape, but I promise there are more than enough men on their way to subdue your entire household, if that is what you would prefer.”

  “I am no traitor,” Trenton replied.

  “Oh no?” Senator Bracken sneered. “I have more than enough evidence to convict you. It’s simple really. You knew that the knife you found and sent me wasn’t enough evidence to prove Lord Cedreau’s involvement in the magistrate’s murder, so you tried to enact your own brand of justice.”