Darkmask (Pharim War Book 5) Read online

  Darkmask

  Pharim War Book 5

  GAMA RAY MARTINEZ

  Darkmask is a work of fiction. All incidents and dialog, and all characters are products of the author’s imagination and any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Cover illustration and design by Holly Heisey, http://www.hollyheiseydesign.com

  Copyright © 2016 Gamaliel Martinez

  All rights reserved.

  Contents

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  CHAPTER 10

  CHAPTER 11

  CHAPTER 12

  CHAPTER 13

  CHAPTER 14

  CHAPTER 15

  CHAPTER 16

  CHAPTER 17

  CHAPTER 18

  CHAPTER 19

  CHAPTER 20

  CHAPTER 21

  CHAPTER 22

  CHAPTER 23

  CHAPTER 24

  CHAPTER 25

  CHAPTER 26

  CHAPTER 27

  CHAPTER 28

  CHAPTER 29

  CHAPTER 30

  CHAPTER 31

  CHAPTER 32

  CHAPTER 33

  CHAPTER 34

  CHAPTER 35

  CHAPTER 36

  CHAPTER 37

  CHAPTER 38

  CHAPTER 39

  CHAPTER 40

  CHAPTER 41

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  CHAPTER 1

  Never in his life had Jez felt more out of place than he did walking in front of lines of men and women sworn to follow him. Their polished helms gleamed in the noonday sun, and their swords hung at their sides, ready to be drawn at any moment. Though Jez had learned the sword from a master swordsman, he had never truly been a soldier, and it felt ridiculous for him to be in charge of men and women who had actually trained for this.

  In the distance, the newly built walls of Randak stood as an imposing monument. Many of the fields outside the city, such as the one Jez was in right now, were filled with men and women preparing to fight. The distant ringing sound of blacksmith’s hammers spoke of a people preparing for war, and the air, which would’ve once carried the scent of flowers, was now filled with the smells of sweat and steel. The attitude of Jez’s army was grim.

  For their part, most of the soldiers kept a straight face, though a couple snickered at the thought of being led by a boy of fifteen who had never served in the army. One man did so while Major Bezar was a little too close. The burly man swung his officer’s baton, a thin wooden rod used to discipline the men. The soldier grimaced but uttered an apology. Bezar glared at him before bowing to Jez.

  “How goes the recruitment, Major?”

  “Your forces approach two thousand, Baron. It will do the men well to know that you came to inspect them before you even went to your home.”

  Jez resisted the urge to shudder. “That was Dusan’s home, not mine.”

  Bezar paled slightly and bowed several times. “Forgive me, Baron. I meant no offence.”

  Jez waved off the apology and tried not to let his unease at the major’s reverence show. There were four types of soldiers in Jez’s army. Most simply followed orders, caring nothing for where those orders came from as long as they received their wages when payday came around. Some, like the man who had been caught snickering, would follow their commanders but didn’t take Jez seriously as a leader. Others had heard stories of what he had done and had flocked to Randak when they heard Jez was building his forces. Then, there were those like Bezar, who had seen.

  “Do you ever regret it, Major?” Jez asked.

  Bezar bowed again, and Jez rolled his eyes. “Regret what, Baron?”

  “Uprooting your family from Rumar and coming to Randak.”

  The major shook his head vigorously. “No, my lord. After those demons attacked Rumar, we couldn’t get out fast enough. Where else would we go but the home of the one who defeated them single-handedly?”

  Jez shook his head. “You know I had help, yourself included.”

  Bezar chuckled. “You mean when I held a sword on King Haziel?”

  “I mean when you used that sword against the demons.”

  Many of the soldiers were staring at their major. They had to have heard that Bezar had helped fight the demon army that had invaded the capital, but it was another thing entirely to have that event so casually spoken of. For his part, Bezar actually looked embarrassed. He glanced over his shoulder at his troops. He must’ve given them a terrible scowl because immediately, they straightened and stood at attention. Bezar cleared his throat and turned back to Jez.

  “I may have killed one or two. You and your pharim friend must’ve destroyed a hundred.”

  “Osmund is a limaph, not a pharim.”

  Jez realized his mistake almost immediately. To a man like Bezar, there would be little practical difference between the pharim and those descended from them. To make matters worse, while Bezar had seen incredible things during the invasion of Rumar, most of the other soldiers had no such experience. To them, the events in the capital had to be almost mythic. They had stared before, but now they gaped openly. Whispers came from all around, and Jez groaned. He’d been attempting to get the man to treat him more casually by engaging him in conversation. He should’ve known better than to speak of the city that had been one of his most spectacular victories. That story would probably be told in the barracks tonight, and every time it was told, it grew more outlandish and ridiculous. Jez sighed.

  “When you see General Lenag, tell him to increase his efforts at recruitment. I want three thousand before the month is out.”

  Bezar paled and sputtered. He nodded vigorously, and Jez resisted the urge to groan. Bezar was a fine officer, or at least he would be if he could get past his hero worship of Jez. He turned and got back into the carriage that had brought him here from the Academy. Osmund raised an eyebrow as Jez settled himself into his seat.

  “They certainly look impressive. They bow very prettily too.”

  Jez gave him a level look. “I should’ve made you go out there. As far as they’re concerned, you could fight off an army. They think you’re a pharim, you know.”

  The giant of a boy sighed. “Did you tell them I wasn’t?”

  “I tried, but I don’t think they believed me. You’re going to have to be at least as annoyed here as I am.”

  Lina, the only other person in the carriage chuckled, her golden hair swaying with the motion.

  “Jez, you’ve been the baron for two years now. Don’t tell me you’re still not used to it.”

  Jez rolled his eyes. “Some of us didn’t grow up in the nobility. Besides, I’ve spent almost all that time at the Academy where I was more likely to be attacked by demons than have someone bow to me. I haven’t had a chance to become used to it.”

  “Didn’t you take a term off after we got back from the abyss?”

  He cleared his throat. “Not exactly. I spent that term in the library going through The Blood of Sariel.”

  Osmund narrowed his eyes. “You were in Tarcai the whole time and didn’t tell us?”

  Jez looked away. “Everyone kept talking about how I was obsessing over Sharim. I didn’t want anyone to worry.”

  Lina sighed. “I was wondering if you would ever admit that.”

  Both Jez and Osmund stared at her.

  “You knew?” Jez asked.

  She rolled her eyes. “Jez, you’re a terrible liar. Of course I knew.”

  Her words struck bo
th of the boys silent for several seconds. It was Osmund who finally spoke.

  “So you took a term off and spent it studying?”

  Jez stiffened as the carriage lurched forward and began plodding along. “It wasn’t just studying.”

  He tried to think of a way to explain. The Blood of Sariel was a fourteen volume collection written so long ago that no one knew who its author had been. Popular legend held that it had been Sariel, the pharim high lord of protection himself, though given the rules against pharim interference, that had to be only a story. Still, it was widely considered the greatest collection of knowledge about protection magic ever assembled. It was a treasure trove of information. All copies had been lost hundreds of years ago, but the legendary Library of Zandra had contained a full set along with several other rare and precious volumes. History said the library itself had been destroyed when the city of Zandra had fallen. It was only six months earlier that Jez had retrieved it, and all the knowledge it held, from the heart of the abyss itself.

  Lina’s face softened. “Jez, you have a life apart from Sharim.”

  Jez clenched his teeth at the name of the human demon. Sharim was the reason the masters had convinced Jez to build his army. No one knew where Sharim had gone after he had escaped the Academy’s mages, but he wouldn’t remain hidden for long, and if the past few years were any indication, when he showed himself, it would be with a demon army at his back.

  “I know that,” Jez said.

  She put her hand on his. “I don’t think you do.”

  “She has a point, Jez.”

  “Look we haven’t exactly had a lot of time lately.”

  “No,” Osmund said, “but we’ve had some, and you spend all your time learning how to fight him.”

  Jez didn’t know how to respond to that, so he just stared out the window. The carriage plodded through the gates and into the city of Randak, the place where Jez had grown up and where he’d been adopted by Baron Dusan, an evil mage whose own plans had eventually destroyed him. Jez hadn’t been back since. If he’d had his way, he would’ve never returned, but the Masters of the Carceri Academy had insisted. He had, after all, inherited the title of Baron of Korand, and they said he had been neglecting his duties for too long.

  Memories flooded back into him as they passed the arena, the place where he had first seen Osmund, as the older boy had fought in a mage’s duel. That had also been the last day he had seen his father well. Tears welled in his eyes, and he wiped them away before his friends could see.

  After a few minutes, the carriage paused as the driver spoke to men at the gate of Dusan’s old manor. Jez stuck his hand out of the window and displayed his signet ring, a blue starfish. He scowled at the men, whose tabards still bore the closed fist that had been the symbol of Dusan. The men, upon seeing his face waved them through, and their carriage trudged up the winding path. Jez sat back down. His friends, seeming to sense his need for silence, waited patiently.

  “Well, Sharim isn’t exactly someone we can ignore,” Jez said.

  Lina let out a long breath. “No, but you can rest.”

  Jez rolled his eyes. “Haven’t we talked about this before?”

  “I was just thinking the same thing. The trouble is you haven’t learned. You’re still doing the same thing.”

  “Look, I promise to take a rest right after we get back from Randak.”

  “You know, you don’t really need to wait,” Lina said. “Here, you have your own manor and servants to tend to your every need. There are worse places you could take a vacation.”

  Jez shuddered at the thought. “No. I don’t think so.”

  The carriage came to a stop and the three friends stepped out. Jez looked up at the massive oak door. He knew from experience that it was thick and heavy, and he could only imagine the effort that had gone into building it. It had probably cost more than most made in half a year, and it was just a door. Greed and opulence had been the least of Dusan’s crimes. He had done vile things in this place. A chill ran down Jez’s back.

  “I don’t want to spend more time here than absolutely necessary.”

  His friends also eyed the door. It might’ve been his imagination, but Jez thought he saw Osmund shiver. Jez took a deep breath and led his friends into what had once been the home of the most evil man he had ever known.

  CHAPTER 2

  Jez and his friends spent the rest of the day looking through Dusan’s library. The books hadn’t been disturbed in months, and the musty smell was a testament to that fact. Every time they opened a book, they sent up a puff of dust. By the end of the day, they still hadn’t found anything. He hadn’t really expected anything else. Both the king’s men and mages from the Academy had been through this place more times than he could count, trying to find any volumes Dusan had used to summon the demon lord Marrowit, but if the former baron had possessed such manuscripts, he had hidden them in a much less obvious place than his library.

  A shadow passed over Jez, and he looked up from an old volume describing different types of mental wards. Laytor, the man who’d been appointed as regent of Korand while Jez had been at the Academy, stood over him. The tall man had a long pointed nose and wispy hair. He was so thin it looked like a stiff breeze would knock him over. He carried an armload of papers in his ink-stained hands, and he inclined his head to Jez.

  “Excuse me, my lord, I have a number of forms which require your attention.”

  Jez sighed and looked back to his book. He’d often been outclassed when it came to mental magic, and the knowledge in this book could probably help him.

  “Laytor, you’ve been running this place without me for the past two years. Why do you suddenly need me to do these things?”

  The man bobbed his head. “Well, sir, you weren’t here then. It wouldn’t be proper for me to decide this sort of thing while you’re present in Randak. More than that, you’re fifteen now.”

  Jez rolled his eyes. Fifteen was the age of majority, where he was considered an adult in the eyes of the king’s law. “Right. I forgot about that.”

  A scribbling that had been coming from across the table went silent. Jez looked up to see Lina staring at him. “How could you forget about that?”

  Jez shrugged. “I went fishing with my father as soon as I was strong enough to cast a net. No one cared how old I was. They just wanted to buy fish. After Dusan adopted me, I went to the Academy where I occasionally had to fight off demon lords. I’m sorry if being legally considered an adult just doesn’t seem like that big of a deal to me. What are these, Laytor?”

  He started pulling out papers and placing them on the table in front of Jez, describing each as he put it down. “Import and export records. Production from the gem mines. Fleet movements.”

  “I have a fleet?”

  Lina rolled her eyes. “Jez, Korand is the dominant power on the Eastern Sea. Of course you have a fleet. You grew up here. You have seen the warships, right?”

  Jez glared at her. “Of course. I guess I just never realized they were mine.”

  “Whose else would they be?”

  Laytor cleared his throat. “Excuse me, my lord. The forms?” He started putting more down. “An extensive iron deposit has been discovered on your western estate. Baron Lajen is requesting a formal trade agreement to gain access.”

  Jez looked at Osmund. “Wasn’t he one of the instructors at the Academy? That boring one that put everyone to sleep.”

  “That was his nephew,” Lina said. “Don’t you keep track of the nobility at all?”

  Jez shrugged. “Sileon tried to teach me before he was hired away.” He smirked at her. “Do you remember that?”

  For a second, Lina looked like she was going to be sick, and Jez wished he could call back his words. Sileon had been hired away by Lina’s own father in an effort to cripple Jez politically in a time when their family had seen him as an enemy. The advisor had also been one of Sharim’s first victims, and Lina was the one who had found the body.
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  “Sorry.” He waved off Laytor. “I’ll look at these later.”

  “Baron, we really should send approval to begin working the iron deposit.”

  “Fine, give me that one.” He scrawled his name on it before shoving it back. Laytor scowled at the messy signature but shuffled out of the room without saying anything. Once he was gone, Jez looked at his friends. “I’m tired of this place. Let’s get out of here. I want to show you where I grew up.”

  Both of his friends grinned as they pushed away the volumes they’d been reading. Jez led them through the manor that had been largely empty these past two years. He decided to forgo the carriage and walked into the city where he’d spent most of his childhood.

  CHAPTER 3

  Randak was smaller than he remembered. The gray stone buildings didn’t look as big, and even the peopled seemed simpler. Aside from his mages robes, he didn’t wear any marks of office. Mages, while not exactly common in the city, weren’t really rare in a major port. His youth was somewhat unusual, but the ways of mages were alien to most people so no one remarked on it. They just stayed out of the way of the trio.

  They stopped in a local inn. It was crowded and filled with conversation, but they found an empty table and sat down for a dinner of fish stew and fresh bread. It had been a long time since Jez had had fresh cod, and this was well prepared with just a hint of spice. It brought back a whirlwind of memories. He was about to speak when he noticed Osmund looking around with his lips curled up in a perplexed expression. Osmund met Jez’s eyes and took in a sharp breath.

  “What is it?” Jez asked.

  “This is the place, isn’t it?”

  “The place?”

  His voice was quiet. “We came here, the last time we were in Randak.”

  “Osmund, the only time we were in Randak together was...”

  Jez trailed off and looked around. Osmund was right. They had stopped here two years ago. It had been different then. There hadn’t been any customers then, only the old innkeeper Clont. Jez dropped his spoon, and a chunk of meat spilled onto the ground. The serving girl glared at him, but she paled when she noticed his robes. After that, she did her best to avoid meeting Jez’s eyes while she went about her business.