by Randy Nargi
“Does Gredarl Kar dispute your ownership?” Bander asked.
“He does and unfortunately the situation is a bit murky.”
“I don’t understand,” Wegg said.
“Under the laws of the Steading, if a homestead is not occupied for a year, the land reverts back to the province.”
“What does that have to do with Gredarl Kar?”
"He wants to buy my land, annex it, cut down the grove so that he can have even more of an unobstructed view. He's a madman. Luckily, I've been able to dispute the reversion—based on the fact that no one really knows the exact date of my father's death. Vinton Lorber from across the highway was the one who found him, but he doesn't know how long poor old dad had been deceased. It could have been a day. It could have been a week."
Bander nodded. “And that makes a difference—for the actual time the cabin was vacant.”
“Exactly,” Darrick said.
“Well, I wish you the best,” Bander said. “We were actually here trying to get a glimpse of the fortress. I hear it is a real wonder.”
“A glimpse is all you can get. I hope you didn’t try to knock on Gredarl Kar’s door. He’s quite a bit less hospitable than I am. You’d probably be shot for your trouble. His archers tend to fire first and ask questions later.”
“So you’ve been to the fortress?”
“Several times. I tried to seek an audience with Gredarl Kar to discuss our dispute. Let’s just say it didn’t go particularly well. I’m lucky to be alive. What’s your interest in the fortress? You thieves?”
“No—”
“Because I don’t have anything worth stealing, as you can see.”
“No, we’re not thieves. We’re adventurers,” Bander said.
“Same difference.”
“But we do have a particular interest in Gredarl Kar’s fortress.”
“Oh really?”
“We were challenged to break in.”
“Ha! I need to hear this story.” Darrick rose from his seat and stepped over to the cupboard where he located some bowls and spoons. “You’ll stay and eat.”
“Much obliged,” Wegg said. He glanced sideways at Bander.
Darrick passed them each a bowl of stew, which Bander found to be delicious.
“Tell me of this challenge, if you please,” Darrick said.
“We are not at liberty to disclose too much, but suffice it to say that we would be paid handsomely if we entered the fortress and could prove that we did so.”
“Well, I can save you a bit of time—and maybe your skin too.”
“What do you mean?” Wegg asked.
“Just walk away. Your challenge was a sucker’s bet. There’s no way for you to win.”
“And why is that?”
Darrick leaned back and smirked. “I knew the old wizard who used to live there.”
“Ahantophan,” Wegg said.
Bander was impressed that the healer remembered the name of the mage who originally dwelt in the fortress.
So was Darrick. He said, “I see you know the name. You must be taking this challenge seriously. Still, I’ve been inside and you have not.”
“We know about the magic disruption,” Bander said. “But that just makes our job easier. No wards.”
“Magic is the least of your worries.”
“We also know about the archers and the impenetrable walls with the memalin shards.”
“Well, you know more than I thought,” Darrick said. “But this knowledge won’t help you breach those walls.”
“What about going under?” Bander asked.
“Unless you plan on tunneling from here, the men in the towers would shoot you down before you were able to remove three shovelfuls of dirt.”
“What about a ladder?”
“Have you seen the shards?”
“Not as yet.”
“Some of them are twice your height and they extend out from the walls nearly twenty feet. You’d need a breaching tower to get over them.”
“The shards can’t extend around the entire perimeter. How do they get in and out?”
“There are two gates, front and back. Both are barely wide enough for a cart. Both are surrounded by a sally port that’s like a tunnel filled with murder holes.”
"That's our way in," Bander said. "Go to the back entrance, but instead of entering the tunnel, use a rope and grapple and go straight up. I'm too large for those kinds of acrobatics, but Wegg here could probably do it."
“Wegg would be cut down in an instant. You think the guards will fail to notice a man climbing a rope right in front of them.”
“Take the guard out.”
“Gredarl Kar has men at each gate. Inside and two outside. Round the clock. You could try to kill the guards outside, but the ones watching from inside would sound the alarm.”
Bander shrugged. “There have to be people going in and out.”
“Not strangers.”
“What about messengers?”
“I have no idea,” Darrick said. His eyes narrowed a bit as he looked at Bander. “You seem like you’ve done this before…”
“It’s been a long time,” Bander replied. “And to be honest, you may be right. This one might not be worth the bother.”
“It’s not. Believe me. You don’t want to cross Gredarl Kar.”
“I’ve heard as much.”
Bander finished his bowl of stew and then stood up. “Thank you, Darrick, for your hospitality.”
“You’re leaving?”
“Yes, you’ve convinced me that it indeed would be a fool’s mission to attempt to break into the fortress.”
Darrick smiled. “Well, at least I have done my good deed for the year.”
“That you have,” Bander said.
Wegg hurriedly finished his own bowl and thanked their host.
At the doorway, Darrick asked, “What about the storm?”
“We’ve seen worse,” Bander said.
“Be well then, Bander and Wegg.”
“You as well. We wish you the best with your dispute. I have a feeling it will be resolved in your favor,” Bander said.
Then they left the cabin and found their horses. As they led the animals through the grove, Wegg asked, “We’re not really giving up, are we?”
“Yes, we are.”
The healer looked surprised. “Truly?”
“We got lucky. He told us everything we need to know about the fortress. We don’t have to risk getting any closer.”
And with that, they rode back to the Steading, the storm at their backs.
Chapter Twenty-Two
“WAIT!” SILBRA DAL CRIED OUT. But it was too late.
Hirbo Thrang was gone, and she was alone on a small island several hundred miles off the southeastern coast of the Tengan Territories.
He hadn’t explained much—just that this place, the Isle of Venir, was one of the sites known to the Witches of Melikti and it was a strange place. He would have to travel alone to another location and wait to be contacted. If all went well, he would return here with an emissary of the Witches. But in the meantime, he cautioned her to be careful. But before she could ask him to elaborate, he was gone.
Silbra Dal would have to wait here for hours or maybe even days. But they had no other options. Hirbo Thrang had said that the Witches of Melikti were very secretive and particular in their dealings with the outside world.
Truth be told she was very curious about these women. She wanted to see for herself who they were. The Guild, of course, branded the Witches as outlaws and criminals for daring to use magic outside of the Guild’s regulation. And, until she had learned better, Silbra Dal had believed the same.
A warm breeze blew in from the shore and the sun hung low in the sky. It would be getting dark soon, so she should look for shelter or at least some driftwood to use for a fire. Silbra Dal turned in a slow circle, surveying her surroundings. She was on a small rocky beach. A path snaked up from the beach north to higher grou
nd. And it looked like there were some shrubs or small trees up there.
She hefted her satchel and trudged up the path. It was narrow and wound its way up a hillside dotted with boulders and short scrubby bushes that looked like no type of plant Silbra Dal had ever seen.
At the top of the rise was a curious small stone structure.
It looked like an uncompleted lighthouse—or even a partially-built mage tower. Silbra Dal walked closer to get a better look. The structure was round, but no more than a dozen feet in diameter, and just slightly taller. It had been built with the same kind of boulders she saw on the beach and on the hillside—sea-tumbled round stones. Odd iron bars or pipes ran out from one side of the structure and then angled down into the ground. She had never seen anything like this.
“Hello,” she called.
If someone dwelt here she wanted to know. If not, all the better. This would serve as her shelter tonight.
She called out again, but there was no response. So she walked around the stone building until she found its entrance: a thick door that had once been painted azure, but now was a faded grey color. She rapped on the door, and immediately felt a little foolish. Clearly, this place was deserted.
Silbra Dal tried to pull the door open, but it was stuck. Who knows how long this place had been uninhabited? She tried again, but the door would not yield. It would be a simple matter of casting a sunder spell on the door or even stoneflow to create a passage through the walls, but instead, Silbra Dal decided to explore the rest of the island. She'd come back to this tower later.
From where she stood, on the north side of the stone structure, she could see another path winding up to even higher ground—a bare rocky hill that rose about a hundred feet up. She picked her way through the boulders and rocks, trying to stay on the worn footpath. The track spiraled up around the hill and as she ascended, Silbra Dal could see more and more of the island.
A few hundred yards east of the partial tower there appeared to be another small structure that she would need to investigate. And to the west, there was something standing in the water, right offshore. Maybe an old dock.
She turned around again, looking for more signs of habitation, but found none. This island was not very large at all. She guessed it to be about a half mile square.
At the top of the hill was another surprise. Set into a large, flat stone slab was a strange metal object. It consisted of a spherical device, roughly the size of a bushel basket, mounted at eye level on a thick pole set into the slab. Both the device and the pole were made of bronze or some other yellowish brown metal. Inset into one end of the sphere was some sort of round crystal that looked for all the world like an enormous pale green eye. The opposite end held a series of mechanical dials and levers. She cast sense magic on the object but could not detect anything. This device was truly mechanical and that was very surprising as well. The last place she’d expect to see something this valuable was on an island in the middle of nowhere.
She would come back here and examine the eye object when there was more light, but for now, she would have to hurry down the hill if she wanted the chance to investigate the small structure to the east.
It didn't take her long to get back down the hill and to the partial tower. Another footpath led off to the east through a grove of gnarled trees. In a clearing stood the structure she had spied from the hill. It was a small wooden hut—maybe a fishing shanty. It, too, had a blue door, but this door opened easily. Inside she saw that one wall of the hut was made up of a stone fireplace, with a pile of driftwood stacked neatly inside. Opposite the fireplace was a cot and a small table. Everything was old but clean. There were much worse places to spend the night.
A quick firefist spell was enough to ignite the wood in the fireplace and soon the hut began to warm. Silbra Dal hunted through her satchel until she found some dried meat and bread to eat. As she ate, she wondered how long she’d have to wait until Hirbo Thrang returned. And more importantly, whether or not he would return alone.
Chapter Twenty-Three
“OUCH!” BRYN ERESTHAR FELT HIS SKIN PULL AS JADEN ADJUSTED THE FAKE BEARD. The adhesive was tearing at his face.
“Is this your idea of revenge for the portcullis incident?”
“Truth be told, I had forgotten all about that,” Jaden said.
“Then why are you trying to skin me alive?”
“I’m not—you probably have delicate skin.”
They were trying to disguise his appearance, but Bryn Eresthar had his doubts.
“I’m sure the beard suits you,” Keryana said.
“It doesn’t.”
Bryn Eresthar and Jaden were ensconced in Keryana’s cottage on the edge of Aberhall. After a tearful reunion between brother and sister, and a lot of catching up, they had started working on a plan. Niam was dispatched to Asryn’s manor house where he had worked as a servant until about a week ago. The hope was that Niam might learn if Asryn’s security had been raised. In the meantime, Jaden suggested altering Bryn Eresthar’s appearance to prevent him from being recognized in town.
Bryn Eresthar smiled at his sister. She had indeed disguised herself well. Gone were her flowing chestnut-colored locks. Her hair had been cut so it hung just below her jaw and had been somehow blanched grey. She looked much older and it made him sad to see her this way, but she had never been one to shy away from a sacrifice.
In the corner of the cottage, near the hearth, his nephew Giles played with some carved wood blocks. Beside him, Luba, his sister's longtime guard, smiled patiently at the boy. In truth, at age 20, Giles was physically a man, but a rare malady had affected his mind, and he still behaved as if he were but five years old. The boy's father, Jetherd, had been enlisted as a spy by Keryana and was presently working as a guard at Asryn's manor house.
“Almost done,” Jaden said, as he tugged at the beard, trying to get it in position. He turned to Keryana. “Madame, would you happen to have a looking glass?” A second after speaking, Jaden seemed to realize the folly of his question. Keryana was completely blind.
She started to reply, but Bryn Eresthar cut her off. “I have no need of a looking glass. I know exactly what I look like now: a ridiculous old man.”
“Let me feel it,” Keryana said. She moved closer and gently moved her hands across his face. “You must certainly look quite distinguished.”
“I don’t feel distinguished.”
At that moment, Niam pushed his way through the front door of the cottage. The locestra was out of breath.
“I have news,” he gasped.
Niam recounted what he had learned. Firstly, Asryn was no longer in Aberhall. And he wasn’t in Laketon.
“Where is he?” Jaden asked.
“That’s the thing. None of the staff knows. And the only people who are with him are his Magister of the Murmurs and his personal guard.”
“Curious,” Bryn Eresthar said.
“Indeed, but there is more. Right as I was leaving, I overheard his chamberlain complaining that there are a gaggle of petitioners and callers from all across the land, including someone from Thindrel.”
The sovereign Isle of Thindrel was uninhabited except for Basu, the fortified town which was home to the doldar.
“I would have a word with this man,” Bryn Eresthar said.
“I thought you might,” Niam said. He handed Bryn Eresthar a torn page from a log book. An entry showed that an emissary from Thindrel named Eiji was present for an appointment with Lord Governor Asryn. Eiji of Thindrel was staying at the Delhaven Inn for two days.
“If I can meet with this emissary, perhaps I can negotiate to lift my death mark.”
“Your what?” Keryana asked.
“It’s a long story, sister.”
“You have a death mark from the doldar?” She rose to her feet. “And when were you going to tell me this?”
“I am fine. I will be fine. I have faced worse.”
“I find that hard to believe.”
Bryn E
resthar pulled on his cloak and nodded at Jaden. “We’re going to see this emissary right now.”
“It’s late,” Keryana said.
“Just the time for such a negotiation as this.”
Jaden said, “I think your sister is right. There must be dozens of people staying at that inn. It would be difficult to quietly gain entrance to that many rooms. Even for me.”
Bryn Eresthar thought for a moment. “What do you propose?”
“We stake out the inn first thing in the morn. A doldar will not be difficult to spot.”
The bounty hunter had a point. Every doldar he had ever encountered fit a distinct physical type. They were all short and wiry—like Niam. You’d never see a heavyset doldar.
“Fine. But this man cannot elude us.”
“If he does, he’d be the very first to do so,” Jaden said.
Chapter Twenty-Four
SILBRA DAL WOKE SOME TIME AFTER DAWN. She could see the faint glow of light from beneath the bottom of the door. The fire had burned out and she was cold, so she pulled her cloak tight.
This was ridiculous. She could have just as easily spent the night back in the Steading or anywhere else and just teleported back here in the morning. Well, except for two problems. The first problem was that Hirbo Thrang made it very clear that she should not leave the island under any circumstances. He had explained that if he returned with one of the Witches, and Silbra Dal was gone, they would lose the Witches’ trust. Forever.
The second problem was that there was something strange about this island that affected her ability to lock its location in her mind. No matter how hard she concentrated, her memory of the island remained fogged and indistinct. That would make it impossible to teleport back to this place. It was very unsettling.
She started up the fire and warmed herself for a good fifteen minutes, then she ventured out into the morning gloom.
The island was shrouded in a heavy mist and she could barely see the trail that led up to the partial tower, but she eventually made her way up the hill to it. Silbra Dal was determined to see what was behind that faded blue door, so first, she tried to force it open with all her might. When that didn't work, she cast a push spell to pry the door open. But something went wrong. The spell fizzled.