A Prince's Errand

by Dan Zangari

  For the first time, his retirement struck him with resounding realization. This is it; it’s all over, he thought. Cornar sucked in his breath and tried to hide his emotions, but his brow furrowed. Karenna tugged at him, and Cornar looked at his wife. She stared up at him in concern. Her gaze asked, This is painful for you, isn’t it? You can’t hide that from me, dear husband.

  Cornar forced a smile and leaned down to kiss the top of her head. Karenna’s scent tingled his nostrils. That sweet aroma was always comforting, except now… now, it evoked a sad realization. Cornar would never embark on another adventure. And that pained him.

  He had to focus elsewhere.

  “… Hold your questions until after Krindal is finished,” Iltar was saying, “and try not to be surprised.”

  Iltar took a step back, and Krindal stepped forward. The old necromancer-scholar moved the domed disk in his hands to the table at the parlor’s center.

  “What you are about to see might startle you,” Krindal said, resting the disk—obviously the mapping tevisral Iltar had mentioned—on the tabletop. Krindal removed something from a necklace and placed it on the tevisral’s domed top. It looked like a small gem.

  Suddenly, a burst of light erupted in the parlor, but soon faded. A map of the world hovered above the small table and spread throughout the room. It was about chest-level with those sitting and wrapped around many of them. They were literally sitting in the map. Of course, the map was made of magic, probably illusionary magic.

  Many of the men and women whispered admiring comments. Some were silent, particularly Kalder, Iltar, and Vargos. Vargos was a hard man to impress, so his reaction wasn’t a surprise. Kalder customarily took almost everything straight-faced. And, obviously, Iltar had seen this before, so he wasn’t as impressed as the others.

  “It’s beautiful,” Karenna whispered. She stepped away from Cornar and reached her hand to the edge of the map which spread just beyond the doorway bridging the parlor to the foyer. Her fingers didn’t disrupt the map at all. Karenna looked back to Cornar, eyes wide. They seemed to ask, You’re not having a part of this?! Are you mad?

  Cornar smiled at her, but Karenna shook her head and rolled her eyes.

  “Well, I’m surprised at your lack of surprise,” Krindal said with a grunt.

  “I think we all expected magnificence,” Nordal chimed. “Don’t be offended if we don’t seem awestruck.”

  “Yeah,” Gregan said with a chuckle, “we’re used to this sort of thing.”

  Krindal nodded. “As you can see, there are dots scattered all throughout the world. But this one is not like the others,” he said, pointing to the island chain of Klindala. Klindala lay to the northeast of the large continent known as the Mainland. “Whatever is here on Klindala is important. It didn’t show up on this map until I visited all other twenty locations.”

  “That looks like it’s in the ruins of Klindil,” Igan observed, raising an eyebrow and folding his arms. “Hasn’t that place been picked clean of everything? Relics and tevisrals alike?”

  “Yes,” Krindal said, “Klindil is well documented in the annals of history. Plenty of people have studied that place, but look at this…” His words trailed off as he inserted his thumb and forefinger into the map, near the island of Klindala. Krindal spread his fingers apart, then removed his hand and repeated the gesture several times. Each time the map magnified; its actual size, however, didn’t change. It filled the same amount of space in the parlor, no matter how much it was magnified. This projection seemed a fixed rectangle.

  Soon, the map was a three-dimensional and topographical representation of the island. The speck Krindal referred to as the last location was actually below ground, beneath the ruins of the city of Klindil.

  “It’s underground,” Baekal said.

  Several others muttered similar reactions.

  “This isn’t a surprise,” Krindal said. “All the other temples were in remote locations. One other was subterranean, inside an island on Asurir Lake, at the base of the Dragon’s Maw Mountains.”

  “Are we going to dig?” Aron asked, leaning against the wall beside the parlor’s window.

  “No,” Krindal shook his head, and then enlarged the map several more times. The map showed the terrain around the ruins. Well, they didn’t look like ruins. The ruins looked like a city, a city with towering buildings that reached almost as high as the mountains.

  Cornar looked at the projecting magic with wide eyes. Impossible! How can those buildings stand? Those buildings defied logic. One might build a structure six or even seven stories tall, as was common in the human realm. But those comprising ancient Klindil rose dozens, if not a hundred, stories.

  “There look to be caves beneath the city,” Krindal said, pointing at lines beneath the logic-defying structures. “Perhaps at one time people lived in the caves before the city was ever established. That’s my theory at least. This last temple is beneath the caves, which leads me to believe a secluded group of Keepers of Truth and Might lived in the caves and guarded this sacred place.” He cleared his throat before continuing. “The city of Klindil was most likely built to cover up the caves and the temple.”

  “So we search the ruins to find a cave network,” Gregan speculated. “Should be easy enough.”

  Krindal nodded. “Whatever is in this temple is of great worth. The caves alone will be enough proof to validate my theories about our ancestors. But the temple is the real find. Hopefully, there will not be any cave-ins during our trip. Klindala is prone to earthquakes throughout the year. And we do face the potential of experiencing an earthquake underground while we’re exploring.”

  Ordreth raised a hand, patiently waiting to ask a question. Krindal nodded, and the young warrior voiced his concern. “Is there anything else that’s dangerous on Klindala?”

  “There are some creatures native to Klindala,” Iltar spoke up, “but nothing that isn’t manageable.”

  “What about the natives?” Vargos asked dispassionately.

  “The Maltins?” Nordal asked, raising a brow.

  “No, the Wildmen in the deeper parts of the island,” Vargos said. “They’re the remnants of the Klindala Dynasty. The Maltins haven’t colonized the entire island, only Kretin and a few smaller cities on the western shores. So, Krindal, have you taken them into consideration?”

  “Yes, we have,” Krindal said. “I was planning to unfold this part once we were on our way. Prince Kaescis intends to barter with them to allow us safe passage. Our journey across the island should be uneventful, as the various tribes keep close together near the ruins.”

  “And what does he intend to barter with?” Vargos asked, still doubtful. One might think Vargos a pessimist, but he was simply overly cautious.

  “I don’t know,” Krindal admitted, sounding a little ashamed.

  “So we might have to fight the Wildmen,” Vargos said, grunting.

  “We’ll be fine,” Gregan said, gesturing to everyone in the room. “With all of us we should be okay.”

  “So we’re going to encroach on their land, take their stuff, probably kill them, and then go on our merry way?” Nordal asked with sarcasm in his voice. He grinned and shook his head, not amused.

  Neither was Cornar.

  Krindal continued explaining the details of the trip. The old scholar explained that they would be sailing on a vessel he had chartered, the Promised Maiden. One of the men asked why they weren’t using Captain Kenard’s ship, the White Duchess. Nordal smirked and said Kenard’s ship would definitely prove Krindal’s theories true.

  Cornar and the others often chartered Kenard’s ship for adventures. It was a favored vessel of theirs. Beautiful ship. The White Duchess was also one of the fastest ships in the Kalishir Ocean, and perhaps even in the entire world. Why didn’t Iltar push Krindal to charter it? That seemed odd. Surely, Kenard would be in port this time of year.

  Krindal then went on to explain his past discoveries in the other temples, telling of various
finds that Iltar had already conveyed to Cornar. But the tales were interesting to hear again.

  Many of the warriors asked questions about those visits, trying to get as much information as possible so they wouldn’t walk blindly into this adventure. That was a trait Cornar had drilled into most of them, and their behavior tonight pleased him. Cornar could comfortably leave his band, knowing that he had trained them well.

  Krindal answered their questions, all while keeping the map of Klindala active. The tevisral and its effects blended into the meeting like a common object. That was probably a by-product of the many adventures these men and women had experienced throughout the years. They were familiar with tevisrals, probably more so than most of Kalda’s inhabitants.

  After all the questions were answered, Krindal dismissed the magic of his mapping tevisral. He replaced the gem in his necklace while securing the tevisral in his pack. “We leave in three days,” Krindal said. “The Promised Maiden is currently docked on Pier Eight, Wharf Twenty. You can make your way there any time; Captain Salisar is expecting us. The vessel is currently empty, and you can take up lodging in your proposed quarters for this trip.” Many of the men nodded, eager to begin the journey.

  “I believe I am finished,” Krindal said, looking back to Iltar.

  Cornar, however, picked his way through the parlor, finally joining Krindal. He looked at the old necromancer-scholar, then to Iltar. “We have one more thing,” Iltar said. “I am not accompanying you on this trip. Due to my responsibilities at the Necrotic Order, I cannot come along.” Several of the warriors let out sighs of disappointment, but Cornar chimed in before they could voice any of their concerns.

  “Iltar isn’t the only one not going with you,” Cornar said, taking a deep breath. His heart was pounding. Was he really nervous? Cornar could face the dangers of the unknown, but he couldn’t say a simple phrase to his own men? Men he trusted with his life. Cornar exhaled, looking at each of the warriors, yet his gaze fell upon Ordreth. The sight of his nephew brought him a sense of comfort. “I am not going with you either.”

  The room erupted with gasps of dismay. The warriors frowned. Several of them looked at each other with disbelief. Many were confused. Cornar had expected this reaction. At least they weren’t treating it like a funeral. He glimpsed Gregan, who shook his head and folded his arms.

  “I made a promise,” Cornar said. He turned to the foyer. Karenna stood at the back of the crowd, sadden. Were those tears in her eyes? Cornar turned from her, looking back to Ordreth. “And you know me and promises. As of today, I am officially retired. But that doesn’t mean I won’t help organize any future adventures or trips. I’m sure Iltar will go with you on the next one.” Cornar glanced back to Iltar, hopeful that he’d back him up. Cornar rarely put Iltar on the spot like this, but he knew Iltar would support him. Iltar only nodded. Well, that was enough. Who knew if Iltar really would go on the next adventure? The situation with his acolytes might not change by then.

  “I hope none of you back out because of this news. I wanted to wait until we were finished so as to not dampen the excitement. It truly is one of the greatest trips you’ll embark on.” Many of the men nodded in agreement, but they were still saddened by Cornar’s news of retirement.

  Cornar eyed all of them for a moment. “Now, to satisfy my curiosity, and probably Krindal’s, how many of you still want to join this quest?”

  Everyone besides Baekal, Delrin, and Jalim stood, affirming their interest in the voyage to Klindala. That was a good sign, for the trip at least. Cornar felt a knot in his stomach. He had feared that some might back out. Those three who didn’t stand weren’t going anyway… In that moment, he felt lonely.

  Gregan stepped forward, standing on one end of the table opposite of Cornar, eyeing his mentor. “Does our unanimous vote sway your decision at all?” Gregan asked. He was determined not to let Cornar retire.

  Many of the warriors smiled at Cornar, but they had sadness in their eyes. They knew he wouldn’t reconsider. He had explained himself adequately. Cornar felt a hand on his shoulder and looked to see Iltar standing beside him. The necromancer was smiling at the others.

  “You know,” Nordal spoke up, “if Cor comes along that means there’s less loot for the rest of us.” Some of the men laughed, particularly Markin, Shen, and Cordel.

  “It won’t be the same without you, Cornar,” Igan said solemnly.

  “Thanks, Igan,” Cornar said, then nodded to them all. “I suppose we’re done. Karenna has some food prepared back in the dining room. Stay as long as you wish. We have plenty of beds for anyone who wants to leave tomorrow.”

  With the meeting finished, many of the warriors shuffled out of the parlor, emptying into the foyer or through the side door at the back of the room. Some of them, however, stayed and moved toward Cornar. Aron and Cordel were the first to reach Cornar. They hugged their mentor, each whispering how they would miss him. Several others did the same, and then Igan and Baekal approached.

  “When we get back, you and I need to spend some time together,” Igan said, looking somber. A moment later, a frown appeared on Igan’s face.

  He’s probably thinking how different this adventure will be, Cornar thought. There wasn’t a single trip or adventure that both had not joined.

  “Perhaps the four of us should do dinner,” Baekal suggested, her tone aloof. “We haven’t done that in ages.”

  Cornar nodded. “Let’s do that,” he said.

  Baekal rested her hand on her husband’s shoulder. “I’ll help Karenna,” she said. “These boys will probably overwhelm her with their stomachs.”

  After she left, only Igan, Iltar, Krindal, and Vargos remained with Cornar.

  “I am disappointed that you won’t be joining me,” Krindal said, clutching his pack. “I hoped that one day I’d work with the magnificent Cornar.”

  “It sounds like someone has been giving Cor here a little too much credit,” Vargos said with a grunt. Krindal shook his head then stared at Cornar, studying him.

  “Well, I think you’re being a fool,” Vargos said frankly, raising an eyebrow at Cornar. “This is probably the greatest adventure of your life. And I say the same to you, Iltar. You should just spit in Alacor’s face and come with us.”

  “Promises, Vargos.” Igan shrugged. “You know Cor and his promises.”

  “Yeah…” Vargos turned from them. “It still doesn’t mean he’s not being foolish. He’ll come to his senses. Just watch. Cornar will be chasing after the Promised Maiden as it leaves port, swimming through the wharves to get aboard.” The old barsionist grunted and shook his head, following the path the others had taken to the kitchen.

  Change my mind? Cornar thought. Never. He was keeping his promise, no matter what. Nothing could stop him, not even this ache growing inside him. No matter how much of a hole he felt in his soul. That would change, wouldn’t it? It had to.

  “We have three days before we leave,” Krindal said, patting Cornar on the shoulder. “I would hope you change your mind.”

  Cornar feigned a smile, and Krindal walked off, heading for the doors. Was he not staying? Cornar looked to Iltar for an answer.

  “Hegdil will escort him back to Soroth,” Iltar said. “Krindal has more things to attend to before he sets sail.”

  “Are you staying?” Cornar asked Iltar, and the necromancer nodded.

  “So are we,” Igan said. “Baekal won’t want to ride back this late at night.” He looked to Iltar. “You didn’t seem surprised about Cor’s announcement. How long have you known?”

  “A year and a half,” Iltar answered flatly. Igan looked stunned.

  “After our last trip, Karenna and I had a talk,” Cornar said. “There were things she wanted us to do that we hadn’t had time for, between the children and our exploits. She didn’t want to reach the end of her life regretting that we had not spent as much time together as she thought we should. Karenna didn’t have to convince me. I came to this on my own.”

&nbs
p; “As expected,” Igan said. Cornar nodded. He wasn’t one to be pushed or maneuvered into making a decision.

  “She’s made me happy ever since she walked into my life. The least I could do would be to honor her wishes and dreams. So I made her a promise. Karenna could have me all to herself, for the rest of our days. No matter how long or how little that would be.”

  Cornar smiled, thinking over the last year and a half. He and Karenna had spent every day together. Of course, he had trained regularly with his men, but he hadn’t left on an adventure. He and Karenna were free to pursue whatever they desired. It was like an indefinite vacation. And now, he’d have that, for the rest of his days…

  “Well,” Igan said, sighing and gripping Cornar’s arm. “I hope you’re happy. Remember, marriage is about a proper balance of give and take.” Igan stepped away, leaving Iltar and Cornar alone in the parlor.

  The two men looked at each other without a word. They were both solemn. It felt like the end of an era, an era of adventure for the both of them. From now on, they’d live solitary and peaceful lives.

  * * * * *

  Iltar sat up in his bed in one of Cornar’s guest bedchamber. The room looked too neat. The clothes he had strewn across the floor before falling asleep weren’t there. In fact, the clothes weren’t even in the room. Iltar had started messing up the rooms where he intended to sleep. This way he could know if he was back in that place with the weird yellow sky.

  Wary, Iltar climbed out of bed and exited the bedroom. He hurried down the hallway leading to the stairs in the foyer.

  All was silent.

  That wasn’t a good sign. There had been nearly forty people staying in the home throughout the night. Someone should be stirring, or snoring.

  Iltar was probably in that place again. He needed to find a window. Why hadn’t he just checked the bedroom window? It was the simple mistakes that cued he was probably in the yellow-sky dreamscape. No matter, he was close to the two-story foyer.