A Prince's Errand

by Dan Zangari

  “… they could be,” Bratan said.

  “Are we sure this map is accurate?” Laeyit asked. She sounded agitated, but then again, she always seemed that way.

  Cornar strode to a table at the center of the war room where all the other leaders were gathered.

  “I’m positive,” Kaetet said, pointing at a topographical map of Klindala. “There is a set of ruins in the mountains, here. The Fortress of Anigar.” He tapped on the map, at a spot not far from where they were currently camped. Cornar had studied the map the first night after leaving Klarin and committed it to memory. Every time they moved camp he knew exactly where it was on the map. Cornar’s extraordinary sense of direction was a peculiar gift, but it came in handy.

  Kaescis stood silently at the opposite end of the table, folding his arms and eyeing the map.

  “I agree with the admiral,” Krindal said. “The Wildmen are most likely there, or at least a group of them.”

  “And what if they’re not friendly?” Laeyit argued. “This particular spot is farther away from the ruins. The Wildmen are tribesmen. These here might not be part of the main tribe.”

  Hezidex cleared his throat. “Even if they aren’t part of the tribe, it doesn’t mean they’re not allied with the main group, Laeyit.” The grand marshal sounded cold. Laeyit shook her head and rolled her eyes. Bratan put a hand on Laeyit’s shoulder to calm her, but she just gave him a sullen glare.

  “I say we proceed to this Fortress of Anigar,” Hezidex continued. “We have enough men to subdue a hostile force of Wildmen. We can take them prisoner if need be.”

  “If they are rogues, we could offer them as tribute to the others,” Grand Marshal Galiur said, humming thoughtfully. “In addition to what you’ve already prepared, Your Imperial Grace.”

  Kaescis nodded.

  What had Kaescis prepared to barter? Cornar had not heard the plan. He figured he would hear about it at some point. Cornar was used to getting information at the last moment, since Iltar had a nasty habit of doing that. The man could get so wrapped up in the adventure that he would forget to tell you something important until it was almost too late. Luckily, no one had ever died from it.

  The men continued expressing their opinions about the fortress and its possible Wildmen inhabitants. Cornar, however, studied the map. The ruins of Klindil were still five days away, across a mountain range. The ruined city was cradled by other mountains at the far end of another valley. The Fortress of Anigar, however, was only a day’s journey. They could probably set up camp there tomorrow night. Cornar preferred such a spot as opposed to camping out in the open. It was easier to defend. But if the Wildmen called it home, they might see the expedition’s camp in the ruins as an invasion. Either way, caution was warranted.

  “What say you, Your Imperial Grace?” Hezidex asked.

  Kaescis studied the map, his arms still folded. The prince then looked at Cornar.

  “What do you think, Mister Dol’shir? Have you ever encountered a wild tribe?”

  Yes, he had… but that encounter hadn’t turned out well. What a nightmare. Memories flashed of him and Iltar fleeing from a ferocious tribe who turned out to be savage werewolves.

  “I have,” Cornar said. “We should be ready for a fight.”

  “Finally!” Laeyit shouted, throwing her hand in the air. “Someone shares my opinion.”

  “Uncivilized men are unpredictable,” Cornar continued. “We should be ready to defend ourselves, but not go in as a hostile force intending to invade. It looks like those ruins are only a day’s journey away. We should make camp at the base of the mountains, then send an emissary party into the ruins.”

  Krindal nodded approvingly.

  “That’s the best suggestion I’ve heard,” Admiral Kaetet said.

  “Yes, it is.” Kaescis relaxed, putting his hands on the table. The prince bent over the map, studying the terrain. “Hezidex, send a scouting party ahead before we break camp. Have them find a suitable spot that is near the path but also convenient to the fortress ruins.” The grand marshal nodded. “Now on to reports,” Kaescis said.

  One by one, each of the leaders reported on their divisions. Everyone’s reports were mundane except for Krindal’s. Krindal said the scholars were excavating the path tonight, searching for a buried road. They had borrowed some lightstones and tied them to posts so they could dig past nightfall. None of the Mindolarnians seemed to care in the slightest. Cornar found that odd.

  The meeting was over after half an hour. Most of the others lingered in the Imperial Tent. Kaescis’s servants had wines prepared in the common room, but Cornar didn’t care to stay. He found it unwise to drink while out in the wild. Only a fool did that. These men, however, were surrounded by soldiers, so Cornar could understand their choices.

  The sun had already set when Cornar exited the Imperial Tent and headed back toward his camp, walking alone. He passed the guards stationed at the edge of the Mindolarn encampment but paused before continuing to his campsite. Cornar looked across the grove to where the scholars were digging. He could barely see the heads of some. How deep had they dug? Most of them were there, digging or taking notes. Cornar took a count of the men, but Jahevial wasn’t among them. Jahevial was the only scholar missing.

  Odd, Cornar thought. Perhaps Jahevial had taken him up on his offer to move campsites.

  Cornar turned back to his camp, but glimpsed of movement in the forest. A sharp-looking face recoiled behind a tree. Were those pointed ears?

  Intrigued, Cornar approached the forest, his gait cautious. A silhouette darted from a tree. It looked humanoid. Quiet footfalls faded into the forest. Cornar felt at his side for his weapons. He began drawing them from their sheathes as Gregan called to him.

  “What did you see, Cor?” Singing metal accompanied the question. “An intruder,” Cornar said, glancing to Gregan. “Get Sharon.”

  Cornar darted into the trees. He could still hear the faint footfalls. Someone was running away. Behind him, a cry of alarm resounded from the Mindolarn encampment. Soldiers shouted commands, but their words were fading as Cornar wove around the trees, chasing the faint footfalls. Some of the leaves had fallen, allowing moonlight to illuminate the forest floor.

  A lanky figure dashed around the trees ahead of Cornar. A spy? he wondered, leaping over exposed roots.

  More footfalls echoed behind him. Cornar heard another pair coming beside him that soon got ahead of him. That was undoubtedly Sharon, a fast sprinter. Cornar couldn’t see her; Sharon was obviously wearing her cloak. Clanking armor and shouted commands echoed through the trees. The Mindolarn soldiers were behind Cornar, too far behind to overtake him.

  Cornar soon lost sight of the figure ahead of him, but could hear Sharon’s footfalls. She whistled every few seconds, helping guide him and the others in their pursuit.

  The trees thickened, and then Cornar heard Sharon shouting, “Cliff!”

  The ground disappeared a moment later, and Cornar fell. He threw himself forward as he hit the ground, rolling over his shoulder. A sharp rock scraped his back, and Cornar staggered onto his feet. Pain shot through him. “Argh!” Cornar gritted his teeth but kept running.

  He could see the figure ahead of him, running toward a foggy veil. Why was there fog? That shouldn’t be there this time of day… The figure dashed into the fog, disappearing.

  Cornar reached the fog but didn’t stop. It was so thick! Where had this come from? Cornar could barely see his weapons. Disconcerted, he came to a halt and called for Sharon.

  “I lost him!” Sharon said. “It’s like he just vanished…”

  “Let’s get out of this fog,” Cornar said. He carefully backed out the way he had come. “Did you get a good look?”

  “No,” Sharon answered. She was still veiled beneath her cloak.

  “Did he look like a man, or an elf?” Cornar asked, exiting the fog.

  “Don’t know. Couldn’t tell.”

  Cornar hummed with disappointment. It could have
been a Wildmen scout. Whoever it was did know the terrain well enough to stay ahead of Sharon.

  They soon reached the cliff where the Mindolarn soldiers were standing. None of them dared to make the jump. It was nearly two stories tall.

  “We lost him,” Cornar shouted up to the soldiers. “Disappeared in some fog.”

  “We sent some others back for rope,” a soldier said. “We’ll pull you up.”

  One of the soldiers shouted commands for some of them to start patrolling the cliff. Soon, a few soldiers returned with a rope, accompanied by some of Cornar’s men. Kalder and Nordal helped pull him and the still-invisible Sharon up the cliff.

  “What happened?” Nordal asked.

  Cornar pointed back to their camp, a gesture meant to command his comrades to return. “We lost him in some fog.”

  “Was it a Wildman?” Kalder asked.

  “No,” Cornar whispered. “I think it was an elf.”

  “An elf?” Nordal asked warily.

  “I couldn’t tell,” Sharon interjected. She appeared from a veil of magic, removing a shimmering cloak, a type of tevisral that caused instantaneous invisibility. Cornar had used one several times in the past. They had two clasps on them, one to latch the cloak and another to activate the tevisral.

  “Maybe Krindal’s fears weren’t unfounded,” Kalder said.

  Perhaps, Cornar thought. But what kind of elf would strike that kind of fear into a man?

  They continued in silence until they reached the edge of the forest. A crowd had gathered between the camps. The scholars had stopped digging and had joined the crowd.

  Several of the expedition’s leaders were near the Mindolarn encampment, including Kaescis. The prince pushed his way through the soldiers and scholars, carrying a wine glass in his hand.

  “What happened, Mister Dol’shir?” the prince asked.

  “I saw someone in the trees,” Cornar said. “When I went to investigate, they ran off. We chased him off a cliff and into some fog. It was too thick to go through, so we came back.”

  “Him?” Kaescis asked. “What did he look like?”

  Others murmured questions about fog appearing at this time of day. It wasn’t natural. They sounded just as perplexed as Cornar when he saw it.

  “I don’t know,” Cornar said, deliberately omitting his speculation that the spy was an elf. “He was too far ahead by the time we started chasing him.” He gestured to Sharon.

  Kaescis frowned, then the grand marshals started shouting orders to the soldiers to go search the forest. The scholars talked among themselves, then headed back to the hole they had dug. Jahevial was still not among them. Where had he gone?

  The rest of the crowd dispersed, and Cornar returned to his campsite with his companions. Sharon joined Ordreth back at the pot while Nordal returned to his card game.

  Igan and Vargos stood near the fire, eyeing Cornar as he approached. “What was all that about?” Igan asked.

  “Someone spying on the camp,” Cornar replied. He glanced over his shoulder, but too many people were still within earshot. Cornar didn’t want to speculate on the spy’s identity with them around. “We chased him until he reached some fog and lost him. It was so thick I could barely see my weapons.”

  “Fog?” Igan raised his brow.

  “That’s not natural,” Vargos said. “Someone must have cast it.” The fog the result of a spell? Cornar hadn’t thought of that.

  “Was it blowing with the wind?” Igan asked.

  Cornar couldn’t recall. Which way had the fog been billowing? Was there even a breeze tonight? He couldn’t feel one now.

  The younger mages approached Igan, asking about the nightly commotion. Hem looked shocked and glanced about the camp in a paranoid manner. The wizards, Tinal and Renal, were disconcerted at the news and eyed the trees.

  Everyone will be on edge tonight, Cornar thought and pushed his way to the fire. He sat on the ground and leaned forward to warm his hands.

  “Food is ready!” Ordreth shouted.

  * * * * *

  “Do you suspect the Wildmen?” Hezidex asked. The grand marshal stood at one end of the common room in the Imperial Tent, holding a wineglass.

  Kaescis sighed, feeling worried. A Wildman would know the terrain, but a member of the Sapphire Guard would be just as agile. However, Mister Dol’shir didn’t mention the oddities associated with the Wildmen. Kaescis recalled the man not knowing much about them.

  “No,” Krindal said, his tone panicked. “It has to be them. The Sapphire Guard is sizing us up, seeing when they can strike.”

  “You’re a paranoid old fool.” Laeyit laughed, taking a sip of her wine. Kaescis frowned. Laeyit was being too lax. Had she forgotten the battle? Krindal had every right to be worried. For Lord Cheserith’s sake, Kaescis was nervous too!

  “And you don’t think it is them?” Krindal demanded.

  “No,” Laeyit said. “Their ship wasn’t in port.”

  “They could have moored elsewhere,” Krindal insisted. “There are coves on the eastern side of Klindala.”

  “Not feasible for mooring,” Laeyit retorted. “And we checked the other ports before we landed in Kretin. They’re not on the island. Besides, we don’t even know if they’ve traversed the other shrines.”

  “They don’t need to have found the temples,” Krindal said with a shake of his head. “They could be following us! The Sapphire Guard is here—we need to be careful! The fog is proof enough.”

  “My men found no fog,” Hezidex said.

  “See!” Krindal shouted, spilling his drink. “They must have cast a spell to make the fog. Use it as a ruse to make us think—if anyone chased them—that they were just Wildmen using the advantage of the terrain.”

  “Or Dol’shir was lying,” Hezidex said coldly.

  “Cornar isn’t one to lie,” Krindal said sharply. “He has no reason to lie.”

  “Unless he suspects that we’re withholding information from him,” Bratan chimed in. Bratan had stayed quiet since they returned to the tent. “I think you should have told him about our enemy.”

  “No,” Krindal shook his head.

  “You should tell him sooner rather than later.” Bratan sighed. He folded his arms and leaned against a pole holding up the tent. The pole was fastened to the ground by a tevisral; it was practically immoveable.

  Bratan and Krindal continued to argue while Kaescis took another sip of his wine. Death. The word echoed faintly in Kaescis’s mind. A surge of bloodlust shot through him, sparking hope that this spy was a member of the Sapphire Guard. Then, he could have vengeance.

  * * * * *

  Cornar awoke the following morning to find that the hole in the path had grown. The scholars had made a discovery—a road was buried underground. It was made of solid stone. Some were saying it was like the highways in the Kingdom of Los. Cornar didn’t linger too long at the discovery, but it was interesting. The road looked like it had been laid yesterday, and minus the dirt, the road looked in good condition. Krindal claimed it was more proof for his theories.

  Perhaps it had magic flowing through it, Cornar thought. He dismissed his speculations and helped his men disassemble their campsite. It took nearly an hour to take down the camps. Cornar’s men were finished well before the Mindolarnians. So, the warriors and mages helped disassemble the war camp.

  A short while later they were on their way northward. The excitement of the previous night hadn’t unnerved the members of the expedition. Cornar, however, kept a watchful eye as he traveled along the path to Klindil.

  The path now narrowed between two sets of mountains, to the east and northwest. The river still ran along the path’s eastern edge, at the base of the eastern mountains, while the forest continued westward to the nearing mountain range.

  Around mid-afternoon the scouts sent by Grand Marshal Hezidex returned. From their calculation, the Fortress of Anigar was only two hours away. The scouts had found a large field at the edge of the forest, near the bas
e of a path leading to the fortress ruins.

  Cornar looked to the northwest mountain range. Something protruded from the mountainside. It was wedged within a narrow canyon. He couldn’t see any details, but the shape didn’t look like a natural rock formation.

  That must be the fortress, he thought. It looked imposing even from this distance.

  Another hour and a half had passed when the expedition climbed a rise. The forests grew along the northwest side of the path, preventing any view of the mountains and the fortress ruins. Weathered statues lined the other side of the path—towering depictions of men and women wearing free-flowing clothing and wielding shields and fanisars. Many of the statues wore helmets, but those without helmets were missing their faces. Beside the human statues stood statues of strange beasts that looked like a cross between a reptile and a wolf. Most of those statues were intact though they were weathered with age.

  A mound of misshapen rocks, covered with dirt and trees, lay beyond the statues. Cornar thought the rocks looked like the toppled remains of a much larger statue. A large scaled finger protruded from the mound, looking like the end of a claw, though unlike any claw Cornar had ever seen. A curving wall of rock rose along part of the mound. It looked like a wing. Farther away, a large chunk of chiseled rock protruded from the mound, looking like an elongated snout.

  Scaled claws? Long snouts? Wings? Those were traits attributed to creatures of myth and legend: dragons. Intrigued, Cornar turned his horse to get a better look. Interesting…

  “We’re almost there,” Kaescis shouted and pointed beyond the trees. “The fortress is to our left.”

  Cornar was about to look in the direction the prince had mentioned, but a glint of light sparkled along that broken wing. It looked like the distorting effect of an invisibility spell; that only happened at the moment when the magic completely enveloped the person or object.

  Curious, Cornar pulled on his reins, directing his horse to the misshapen mound. He stopped beside the claw, straining to hear any noises around the rubble. All he could hear were the sounds of the expedition moving behind him.