“No. There is some dark wizard in charge.”
“Who? Who is this wizard?”
“I don’t know. He never shows himself. Please help me. I have a wife and a son.”
Everyone was loaded on the raft and Evisar turned to Jefon saying, “Jefon, let’s go. We have to catch them before they reach the fortress.” Jefon stood frozen over the top of the human as Evisar raised his voice. “Jefon, leave him! Let’s go!” Jefon brought his head up and removed his foot from the human’s chest. He took one last look and then left the human in the water as he boarded the raft.
The human called out in desperation, “No, don’t leave me! I don’t want to die!” Jefon turned away from the screaming and concentrated on Darkwood Forest on the other side of the river.
It took an intolerably long time to cross the river in the simple wooden raft. As they reached the other side, Jefon jumped onto the shore and ran to the spot where the priest had joined up with his other friends and gone into the woods. The trail wasn’t difficult to find and Jefon yelled, “Got it.”
Jefon didn’t even look back as he broke out into a run. The rest of the companions ran into the woods behind him. All Jefon could think about was Valihorn and how he was about to be imprisoned. His entire life, Jefon had always been the fastest runner, and that was even more true on this day as he sprinted into the woods. He quickly outdistanced his companions. He hoped they could follow his trail, but he didn’t have time to care. He ran mile after mile, trying to close the distance. In the end it didn’t matter because he was too late. Even though Jefon had run to the point of exhaustion, he still hadn’t been able to catch Valihorn’s captors before they made it to the Old Shetley Fortress.
Chapter 45: The Old Shetley Fortress
Jefon sat at the tree line pondering what to do next. The rest of his companions would come along after a time. Until then there was nothing he could do except observe and learn.
The fortress was everything he had imagined it would be, and more. The stone and mortar walls were fifteen feet tall. The gate was made of two solid steel plates that were no doubt barred from the inside. Stone guard towers on each corner rose another ten feet above the walls. Each wall was half a mile long with arrow slits placed at regular intervals. If the walls and gates were not imposing enough, traps and moats lined the ground near the fortress and the trees were cut back from the walls at least one hundred feet in all directions. The fortress was so imposing that an army of five hundred could probably be beaten back by fifty defenders.
Jefon’s hope that they would find the fortress abandoned was dashed. There was a guard with a bell to sound the alarm in each of the towers, as well as guards walking along the battlements of the walls. Jefon glanced at each of the guards in turn. They seemed to be ordinary human soldiers, except for one. As Jefon stood behind the tree and watched the walls, someone with light hair caught his eye. A helmet covered most of his hair, but Jefon’s elf eyes could see the light hair around the edges. No, not light hair, that was wrong. The hair was white – snow white. He was sure of it. The stranger talked to everyone he passed on the battlements and Jefon thought perhaps he was the lieutenant in charge of the shift. He continued to walk along the wall until he came to the guard tower closest to Jefon. He conversed with the guard in the tower and the human pointed over the wall at the base of the fortress. The Lieutenant took off his helmet in order to lean over the edge. This was the first really good look Jefon got of him and it nearly took his breath away. Krone! He had snow white hair, dark, almost black skin, and elf ears.
Jefon’s thoughts were interrupted when everything around him went dark. He rubbed his eyes and knew they were open, but suddenly it was black as night. Normally in the pitch black of a moonless night Jefon could still see the shape of the trees and the horizon off in the distance, but this was different. The darkness felt thicker, and he still couldn’t see anything.
He got up from his tree and began to walk carefully away from the fortress. He heard footsteps behind him and knew he was being followed. He snapped his head back to see who it was but saw nothing but darkness. Jefon picked up his pace through the trees, but he stumbled on the unfamiliar ground in the darkness. Jefon finally found a tree and did his best to duck behind it.
His heart was pounding. He knew he couldn’t fight what he couldn’t see. Why weren’t his eyes growing accustomed to the dark? He heard footsteps again off in the distance, and they were coming closer. Jefon’s heart beat faster as panic set in. He quietly drew his sword and prepared to fight his hidden enemy. The fear was overpowering and in his darkest hour, Jefon’s hand went reflexively to the pouch on his belt. He felt the familiar form of Martel’s platinum coin. Jefon closed his eyes and found the peace of his god as the footsteps moved closer. Jefon heard his opponent draw his sword.
Jefon calmly opened his eyes and smiled at what he saw. The darkness had been replaced by differing shades of gray. The darkness was still thick around him, but he could see. The ground was nearly black and the trees and shrubs were neutral gray, but as he looked to his right he saw his attacker as a white silhouette against the darkness.
The attacker lifted his sword for a mighty strike against what he thought was a blind opponent when Jefon lunged from his crouch with all the force of his legs and stabbed his attacker through the chest. He struck with such fury that he lifted his attacker off the ground. His opponent screamed in agony and yelled out curses in the language of the Underworld. Jefon threw his attacker to the ground and withdrew his sword. He had just killed his first Krone.
The fortress came alive with activity as guards responded to the Krone’s death cry. Jefon sprinted off into the woods; as he cleared the area of darkness, color once again flooded his eyes along with the light of day. It was only then that Jefon remembered from his studies of the Krone that they were able to control light and darkness as easily as an elf could light a lantern and then blow it out.
The Krone, led by Evona herself, were the elves’ most vicious enemy. It was said that Evona had once been the lover of Invictus, father of the elves, until she betrayed Invictus and was cast out of the elven pantheon. With her betrayal discovered and her divinity stripped away, that should have been the end of Evona’s story, but evil has a way of enduring. It was written that she seduced Martel with her beauty and promises of change. Somehow she managed to steal back her divinity and betray Martel. Evona took control of the Krone and led them into the Underworld where she corrupted and twisted them until they were nothing but a shadow of their former selves.
If the Krone were pushing up to the surface once again, then who would oppose them with the Old Elf Empire gone? Armena was powerful, but it could not compare to the empire of old.
Jefon ran more than half a mile away from the Old Shetley Fortress and finally slowed to a walk as he saw his companions coming through the woods up ahead. They looked glad to see him, but Jefon didn’t share their good cheer.
He looked at his brother calmly and said, “We have a new problem.”
___________________________________
Several miles to the south and east of the fortress, the ancient green dragon, Malachite, observed the companions through his crystal ball. They were not as powerful as the heroes of old but that was changing at a rapid pace. Mitra had done greater deeds than these elves during the last age, but he had the power of a god behind him. It was true the ranger had the power of Martel, but Martel could not be compared to Mithras, the Mistress of Magic. Venal performed greater deeds against the Krone when he was mortal, and then there was the great archwizard Zeon to consider. But these elves had a destiny about them, there was no question. Their talent was growing. The time was coming when he would bend their destiny just enough to grow his own power. He had watched Valihorn get captured by Ramon, had watched the chase through the forest, and had seen the ranger master his fear and kill a Krone warrior. It was too bad the ranger had not come to his lair with Valihorn and Tristan. It would be nice to be able to yoke the power of
a chosen for his own gain. Still, they would all do his bidding when the time came. Malachite willed that the crystal ball go dark and smiled as he lay his head down on a bed of gold. He could afford to be patient.
Chapter 46: What Next
Evisar looked grave. “The Krone are here?”
“Yes, brother, I was attacked and forced to kill one in the woods not long ago.”
Evisar seemed concerned that his brother had faced a difficult trial alone. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there. How did you fare?”
In truth, Jefon had never felt so alone in his life, but Evisar didn’t need to hear that. “Only by the grace of Martel did I survive.”
Jefon opened his mouth to say more but thought better of it. Evisar clearly wanted to hear more but knew enough not to ask. Jefon had survived and the Krone had not; that was all that mattered.
Xander, on the other hand, had no qualms about asking for more. “What happened during the fight?”
Jefon was about to tell Xander to mind his own business, since Martel’s visions were for him alone, but he could at least tell everyone what he saw. He thought for a moment before he said, “The Krone are dark skinned elves with white hair. The Krone warrior who attacked me was able to use some sort of darkness spell against me that was much deeper and darker than a moonless night. I was utterly blind and couldn’t see my hand in front of my face.”
“If it was so dark, then how did you escape?”
Jefon searched for what to say, knowing that what Martel had given him was meant for him alone. “All I can say is that I was shown the path to survival.”
Xander did not like that answer any better. “Maybe I don’t like you after all. Why don’t you just answer the damn question? What is happening to you? When I first met you, you had your faith in Martel and that was fine. As a follower of Fortuna, I can certainly understand if you want to follow this backward elven god of yours, but you didn’t allow your religion to rule your life. Now look at you. ‘Only by the grace of Martel did I survive.’ What does that mean?”
Jefon fired back with an edge of his own, “With all of your secrets and issues with morality, I don’t expect you to understand.”
Xander was never one to back down, and his wit was up to the challenge once again. “All of my secrets are on the table. You’re the one who is shrouded in mystery these days. No one ever knows what you’re going to do next. How are we supposed to rely on someone who kills prisoners in cold blood and goes running off into the woods by himself? You’re going to get the rest of us killed.”
“I do what I know is right. Speed was of the essence. I can’t help it if you couldn’t keep up, but it doesn’t matter because we all failed. Valihorn is behind the walls of that monstrosity. Now we have to make a forced rescue against gods know what inside a fortress.”
Evisar finally stepped in to separate the two. “We all respect your faith, Jefon. Why don’t you tell us what else you saw so we can all share your valuable insight into the enemy.”
Jefon’s frown disappeared as he looked at Tristan and his brother. He went into detail about the stone walls, steel doors, people he saw inside the fortress, and finally the clearing that led up to the fortress that offered little hope of a hidden approach. After he finished his story, Evisar, Xander, and Tristan looked as though their spirits had been broken. Valihorn had been taken from them. Their hopes of finding the fortress abandoned had been crushed to dust, along with their hopes of finding an easy entrance into the Underworld. To make matters worse, they had no idea of the layout inside the fortress, making any kind of coordinated attack almost impossible.
No one could agree on what to do next, but everyone agreed a head-on attack against the fortress was lunacy. Xander finally said, “I hate to do it, but I say we leave Valihorn and find another way into the Underworld.”
Jefon was quick to take the opposite view. “We can’t do that. It’s our fault he’s been imprisoned. Do you know what the Krone will do to him?”
Evisar shook his head and added, “It isn’t our fault. We did the best we could during the battle at the river and in the chase back to the stronghold. Committing suicide against that fortress isn’t going to help anyone.”
Xander nodded in total agreement. “Exactly my point. Exactly.”
Jefon said, “You’re being selfish. We have to free him. It’s the only option.”
Xander said, “To the seven hells with you. Rescuing Valihorn isn’t the only option. Watch me turn around and leave right now. That’s an option.”
“If you do decide to leave, be sure to give me the amulet around your neck.” If looks could have killed, then Jefon would have been ashes right then and there. Xander knew that without the necklace to keep him hidden, the Talon Guild would find and kill him in a matter of days.
Evisar jumped in again. “Stop it, both of you. We aren’t being selfish by refusing to die a meaningless death. Our goal is to find Devin, no matter the cost. Tristan, where do you stand on rescuing Valihorn?”
Tristan said, “I’ve known Valihorn for years, and it is certainly our duty to save him if we can.”
Evisar shook his head, not believing there was a way, but not willing to give it up. “Let’s go over what we know again and see if we can come up with a plan."
After much discussion, he borrowed an idea from each of the companions and pieced together a plan that had little chance of success.
Chapter 47: Nero and the Council of Wizards
Another advantage to visiting Talon Guild headquarters in Locus was that Nero could use a Guild wizard to teleport him to Armena rather than having to trek through the countryside. Nero appeared several miles east of Bethel and walked into town. Nero thought about the Guildmaster's order to join the very group he had attacked and shadowed over the last moon, in order to recapture the gem. He had to admit the plan was brilliant. The only thing he didn’t understand was how the Guildmaster knew his Philosopher superiors were also going to ask him to join the elven brothers. Nero decided it was best not to ask too many questions. Rank had its privileges, and the Guildmaster hadn’t risen to his rank by being stupid.
Nero walked into his house and dropped his bag at the door as he always did. Now that he was back in the capital of Armena, he had to remember he was a Philosopher and not a member of the Talon Guild. It was difficult switching between the two roles, but Nero had never faltered even once. He always managed to keep the two lives separate by compartmentalizing the lies that were told with each. Nero walked through the front door of his house and was greeted with darkness. He walked to the table in front of him and lit the lamp on its smooth surface. As light bathed the room, Nero took a look around. The house looked as though nothing had changed since that day three moons ago when he and his mentor, Calim, had headed out to stop the human advance near the city of Ash.
Nero was weary from all of his travel and his mind wanted his bed, but his stomach was hungry and his mouth was parched. Nero stood there for a moment contemplating what he needed most and decided he would sleep better on a full stomach. He moved through the living room and into the kitchen.
As he passed the hallway leading to the bedrooms, Nero felt a presence and looked in time to see a shadow move behind the door to his bedroom. Shadows moved all the time in the forest among the trees, and he was still getting used to this gift from Venal, but he was certain someone was back there. Shadows and dark places were commonplace to Nero, so he had no fear as he continued on to the kitchen to fix himself some food. Nero pulled out some bread and cheese that were probably a little stale and pretended to fix himself a sandwich. Nero slowly drew his dagger and kept it close to his body as he casually tore off a piece of bread.
He was about to turn around and head toward the bedroom, when he heard a voice say, “Give up the act, Nero. I know you saw me when you moved into the kitchen.” Nero turned around casually and saw an elf standing proudly in the hallway. The elf was in the shadows, and difficult to see clearly in the diminished light, but
his long robe and sharp facial features were evident.
Although Nero was acting casual, this stranger had his complete attention. In Bethel, Nero fronted as a lowly fletcher to the rest of the community, and fletchers didn’t receive strange guests in the middle of the night. This stranger was here to see a Philosopher agent or to capture a traitor; until he knew which, he wasn’t going to let down his guard. The stranger was an elf, which was somewhat reassuring, but even elves had been known to steal or murder each other.
“How did you know I saw you?”
“Philosopher agents don’t live long if they aren’t aware of their surroundings. And from what I hear, you are a particularly good Philosopher agent.”
Well, that was one question answered. Nero relaxed slightly as he realized this elf was here to talk to a Philosopher, not kill a traitor. Nero began to suspect who this was, but he didn’t want to assume anything. He needed proof. “What are the Philosophers? I’ve never heard that name before. I’m only a fletcher. If you have need of arrows, or have a bow that needs mending, then I would be happy to accommodate you.”
The stranger inclined his head and smiled. “Is that a fact?” The stranger moved casually to the dining room table and grabbed a small candle. Nero watched carefully as the stranger whispered an arcane word and the candle sprang to life. The stranger held the candle up to his neck so his skin could soak up the heat. The stranger pulled the candle away and Nero clearly saw the symbol of a closed book appear along the stranger’s neckline.
Nero took a sharp breath. Philosopher agents had the mark of an open book on their collarbone, but Council of Wizard members had a closed book tattooed on their collarbone. Nero walked up to the elf and immediately extended a hand to the stranger. “You are well met, Council member.”
The stranger took Nero’s hand and the two shook. “You are also well met, Nero. I was the one who placed your tattoo, and I must say I have watched your career with interest.” The wizard released Nero’s hand and waited while Nero digested the information.
Do the Gods Despise Us? Page 11