The Sword of Retribution

Danger in the Dark - Part 2

     “All of them?” asked Justarian Westin, the Director of the University. “All two dozen?”

     “Yes, Sir,” replied Tragius, still numb with the shock of what he’d seen. “Including the priests.”

     “Two dozen of our finest people, people we can ill afford to lose. Why did I let you talk me into this, Tragius?”

     “Sir, may I remind you that, technically, the operation was a success. We hit the Shadowlord, hit him hard, and without releasing him into our world in the process.”

     The Director stared at him as if we were mad. “I don’t believe you just said that!” he exclaimed. “Twenty four people, seven of them women...”

     “You have to expect casualties in times of war,” replied Tragius, his voice shaking a little. He tried to look the Director in the eye, but couldn't seem to lift his gaze from the clutter of papers and reports littering this desk.

     Westin stared at him for a moment longer, but then he lowered his eyes and nodded. “I’m sorry, old friend,” he said softly. “What happened wasn’t your fault. It couldn’t possibly have been foreseen, and I did agree to it so I have to take my share of the responsibility. We’ll give them all the care they need, don’t worry about that, and one day it may even be possible to...”

     Tragius looked at him but didn’t need to say anything. They both knew that a cure would never be possible. The twenty four people who’d been in the conjuration room would be in their present condition for the rest of their lives.

     "So now we wait," he said, leaning back in his chair. "Wait to see whether the Shadowarmies are affected enough for Belthar and Fu-Nang to take advantage of it. We should hear something within a few days or so."

     "Their sacrifice can't have been for nothing," replied Tragius. "The Gods would never allow such an injustice. I have to believe that what we did was worthwhile, that the tragedy that just took place served a higher purpose."

     “We'll know soon enough,” said the Director uncomfortably. He decided to change the subject. “How’s your other project going, the wraith?”

     “We’ve hit a couple of problems, but we still hope to be able to send it off soon,” replied Tragius gratefully. The Director knew nothing about Malefactos. Tragius had told him that they were going to try to coerce a wraith into being their spy in the Shadow. He’d even managed to capture a wraith, and had it imprisoned in his laboratory as part of the deception. If he succeeded in blackmailing the ark rak, he would release or destroy the wraith, and use it as the official source of any information the rak provided.

     “Do you need any help?”

     “No. Modesty aside, I am the authority on the coercion of evil spirits. If I can’t do it, nobody can.”

     Westin nodded. “Well, do the best you can. Frankly, though, I don’t fancy the chances of anything worthwhile coming of this, no matter how successful you are. How long is a wraith likely to last against the things it’s likely to meet in Arnor? What we really need is a vampire, like the Ilandians.”

     Tragius decided to take a chance. “Or a rak,” he said.

     The Director stared at him. “A rak?” he exclaimed in surprise. “Well, yes. Ideally, I suppose, a rak would be the best possible creature to spy out the Shadow, but you know how dangerous and unpredictable they can be. Besides, where would you find one? All the decent raks work for the Shadowlord. No, any rak good enough to survive as a spy in Arnor would be far too dangerous to us. Forget that idea.”