Dean Cadman [Cadman - Lusam: The Dragon Mage Wars Book Six

LUSAM

THE DRAGON MAGE WARS

BOOK SIX

by

DEAN CADMAN 2019

www.deancadman.com

First published 2019
This edition published 2019 by Dean Cadman

Copyright Dean Cadman 2019

The right of Dean Cadman to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Design and Patents Act 1988

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Lord Zelroth watched the gathered men and women of the Camusch with morbid curiosity as they knelt before him in silent prayer to Aamon. Incredibly, Cleric Zayins predictions had proven correct, and more than seventy of the fanatical zealots had answered the call to sacrifice themselves for their God willingly. Why anyone would ever choose to do such a thing, Lord Zelroth couldnt even begin to understandbut neither did he want to. The only thing that mattered to him at that moment was that he now had more lives to sacrifice to his Aznavor. He just hoped that they would be enough to appease Aamons increasingly incessant demandsat least for a while.

No matter how many sacrifices Lord Zelroth had made of late, it never seemed to be enough for Aamon. He had already exhausted his prison population weeks ago, and the entire town of Bruecia had been cleansed of anyone who had ever been convicted of a crime, along with anyone even suspected of committing one. Even their immediate families and known associates had been taken into custody. In fact, Aamons recent demands had been so incessant, that Lord Zelroth had tasked one of his Inquisitors to weed out any non-essential servants from within Azmarin itself.

Neither the soldiers he had sent to The Badlands to acquire more prisoners nor the soldiers he had sent after them had returned yet. Rumours of an uprising in the far south had been intercepted by his spies in several bars and taverns throughout the empire, but no hard evidence had yet come to light. Of course, if the rumours did indeed turn out to be accurate, he would crush whoever it was that dared to challenge him. But right now, he had more important things on his mind.

The very thought of rumours caused him to stifle a grin. Rumours about an uprising in the far south were not the only ones doing the rounds at the moment. Several other rumours regarding the fate of the remaining Camusch members who had refused to heed Aamons call were also currently circulating around town. Several of their bodies had already been discovered in dark alleyways with their throats cut; no doubt executed by the Camusch themselves as punishment for their lack of faith. But it was the fate of the other thirty or so missing members that had caused most consternation amongst them.

His spies reported that the Camusch had been asking questions regarding their whereabouts all around town, but nobody seemed to know for sure where they had gone or what had happened to them. Some believed they were still in hiding somewhere in Bruecia, but most thought that they had already fled. There were no roads in or out of Bruecia. The town was nestled in a valley surrounded by high mountains on three sides. The only way in or out was via ship, and so that was the most commonly held belief as to how they had managed to escape.

And they were right at least in part, he thought, finally allowing the grin to spread across his face. Truth be told, he had never expected so many of the Camusch to come forward and sacrifice themselves willingly. But regardless, he always knew there would be cowards amongst them looking for a way to escape. And he made sure that he supplied that means of escapeor at least the illusion of it.

He had known exactly when the request for sacrifices would be delivered to the Camusch leader, and he had made sure that only one ship had been docked that day. From the outside it appeared to be nothing more than a regular merchant vessel, unloading its goods onto the dockside and going about its business in the usual way. But inside the hold, it was a very different story. The oil in the lanterns below decks had been heavily infused with a magic-dampening herb, creating an environment that would render any magi impotent almost immediately. And, of course, the ships crew were really Empire soldiers in disguise, waiting to strike when the time was right.

As expected, shortly after the request to the Camusch was delivered and their members informed, a few of them found their way to the docks looking for a means to escape. Transport was arranged, and they were all told to return after dark, which they did willingly.

None of them suspected a thing as they descended into the bowels of the ship that night. But a few minutes later, when the soldiers were sure the herbs had taken effect, the hatch was opened and a flask of Nightmist was dropped inside. The men and womens cries were brief as they inhaled the gas, as were the quiet thuds of their unconscious bodies impacting the hull of the ship.

The crates which had been unloaded from the ship earlier that day had been empty but were soon filled with the bodies of the drugged men and women and transported directly to the gates of Azmarin. The next time they awoke, they were all in chains, waiting to be fed to the Aznavor. Their pathetic screams and pleas for their lives were still fresh in his mind, and his grin slowly grew into a broad smile.

The first of the Camusch got to his feet and nodded that he was ready to one of the Darkseed Elite guards. The large doors of the room slowly opened, and the man stepped out into the hallway beyond. It was less than twenty paces to the Aznavor chamber, and Lord Zelroth watched the man intently every step of the way for any signs of fear or doubtbut he saw none. Even when the man arrived outside the door, he showed no outward signs of fear. He simply chanted a prayer over and over under his breath, ignoring all else around him. As the huge door swung open, the Inquisitor within the room immediately silenced him, preventing him from crying out in fear when he saw the awaiting Netherworld beast. It had been prearranged, so the other Camusch didnt hear the screams of their brethren when they entered the room, but seeing the mans calm demeanour, Lord Zelroth wasnt sure it was even necessary.

He spoke a single word of power, and the door swung silently shut behind him. He was curious to see just how committed this man was. He chanted a few more words of power under his breath and activated an old enchantment within the walls to prevent any sound from escaping the room. He had added the enchantment shortly after securing the Aznavor there but soon realised that he didnt actually care if anyone heard the screams from within the room, and had never used it since. He silently communicated with his Inquisitor to release his silence spell, and also not to take control of the mans mind unless he attempted to escape. The man turned to look at Lord Zelroth and nodded, but never stopped chanting his prayer. Then without a moments hesitation, he turned and resumed his slow walk towards the