A Prince's Errand

by Dan Zangari

  Blast, he thought, looking to the caravan’s rear, toward his band. Whoever was hiding here will be long gone before I can fetch Sharon.

  Sighing with disappointment, Cornar redirected his horse and galloped back to the head of the expedition.

  “This is a good spot,” Kaescis said, guiding his horse off the path, down the hill alongside the tree line.

  Cornar followed after him but gazed at the mountains to the northwest. That strange outcropping was now visible, and it was an astounding sight. The Fortress of Anigar looked like a grand palace. Towers rose as high as the peaks, their bases halfway up the mountainside. The architecture was unlike anything Cornar had ever beheld, looking like a castle straight out of a myth. There was exquisite detail to these ruins. It was spectacular!

  “So that’s the Fortress of Anigar,” Krindal said. “It looks imposing.”

  “As it should,” Hezidex said. “It was the first line of defense for Klindala against the rebels of the Karthar War. The defenders held this valley for decades from that fortress.”

  Cornar passed the other leaders and stopped beside Kaescis. The prince was surveying the proposed campsite. The field was quite large. They could set up their camp in the center and still have a clearing of nearly a grand phineal.

  “Will you incorporate your men into our encampment tonight, Mister Dol’shir?” Kaescis asked, sounding concerned.

  Cornar raised his brow. “Do you really think the Wildmen are that much of a danger?”

  “No,” Kaescis said, “but I think it’d be best if we were all close together.”

  Cornar didn’t reply. He could tell the prince was worried about something else. Though Kaescis hadn’t said it, the spy from last night bothered him.

  “Your men will be in the Royal ring,” Kaescis said. “Have them set up their tents beside those of the Praetorians.”

  “As you wish,” Cornar said. He guided his horse across the field, passing the bulk of the expedition. Soon Cornar reached his band, which was at the hill’s crest near the broken draconic statue.

  “What’s going on, Cor?” Gregan asked, he shielding his eyes from the sun as he gazed at Cornar.

  “Kaescis wants us close to him tonight. We’re going to set up our tents inside the war camp, near the Imperial Tent.”

  Several of the men muttered worriedly.

  “Are they expecting a battle?” Kalder asked.

  “Not that was said.” Cornar sighed. He scanned the misshapen mound before continuing. “But we should be prepared. After we set up camp they are sending scouts into that castle.”

  Sharon pushed her way toward Cornar. “Want me to go with them?”

  She would have an advantage. And, this way Cornar could find out any details that might not be shared with the other leaders, as the scouts would report directly to Grand Marshal Hezidex.

  “Yes,” Cornar said with a nod. “Now, let’s go set up our tents.”

  “A boy shall endure unimaginable pain. His anguish will unleash the Harbinger’s fury. It will catalyze the Unspoken One’s journey to usher in the divine advent.”

  - Prophecy of Soron Thahan

  It’s been four hours,” Ordreth said, pacing back and forth between the tents in the Royal ring of the Mindolarn war camp. He looked nervous. Cornar couldn’t blame him. How else should a man feel when letting the love of his life dash off into an unexplored and potentially dangerous place, alone? By Heleron’s Scales, Cornar would be just as worried if it were Karenna out there. Would he dare let Karenna go? That thought stung him.

  “I doubt the Wildmen can see through her cloak,” Nordal said. “She’ll be fine.” Ordreth sucked in a deep breath and stared at Nordal for a moment. Cornar could see a restrained panic growing behind his nephew’s eyes.

  A hustle of commotion echoed into the Royal ring from the camp’s middle tier. Cornar turned, as did Ordreth and Nordal. Several of the mages and other warriors emerged from their tents, curious about the disturbance. Cornar could feel the tension mounting.

  “I don’t hear an alarm,” Nordal said. “Perhaps—”

  The scouts sent by Grand Marshal Hezidex dashed into the Royal ring, heading straight for the Imperial Tent. The Crimson Praetorians let them pass without argument.

  “I told you.” Nordal glanced to Ordreth, who looked anxiously to the entrance of the war camp’s heart.

  A faint whistle echoed from behind Cornar and the others, changing tones in a familiar pattern. It started out mid-range, then rose in pitch, dropped to a low tone, and rose back to the mid-range sound.

  The stress melted from Ordreth, and he grinned widely, responding with an identical whistle. That whistle—established by Cornar years ago—was to signal a party member’s return. Often on adventures, the party would be holed up in dangerous places. The whistle was used to forestall an ambush by the main group.

  “The place was empty,” Sharon whispered. She was still concealed beneath her mystical cloak.

  “Deserted?” Cornar asked.

  “No, people were there recently,” the thief said, sounding worried. “Several fire pits were lit less than a day ago.”

  Igan, Vargos, Kalder, Midar, and Hemrin gathered around Cornar. They had undoubtedly heard the signal. No one else in the Royal ring seemed to notice it, and the Crimson Praetorians didn’t react.

  “Perhaps the Wildmen fled upon seeing the caravan?” Midar asked. Cornar nodded. That seemed likely. This was an imposing force.

  “I also found some odd seams in many of the walls. They looked like hidden doors and were all over that castle. I didn’t want to pry at them, in case the Wildmen were tucked away in a hidden room.”

  A wise choice.

  Sharon continued whispering her report. “The scouts found clothing, cooking tools, and children’s things. They think the Wildmen fled upon seeing us set up camp in the valley.”

  “Or they’re hiding and waiting for reinforcements,” Nordal said.

  “That’s what I think,” Sharon said. “They would have taken more things if they were retreating.”

  “An ambush?” Igan asked, stroking his chin thoughtfully.

  “I bet those seams led to hidden rooms,” Vargos said. “It’s smart. Lure your enemy inside and then pick them off in small groups.”

  The men continued voicing their opinions on the matter until a Crimson Praetorian approached the group.

  “Mister Dol’shir,” the Praetorian said. Everyone quieted, looking to the armored man. “His Imperial Grace wishes you to join them for the scout’s report.”

  Cornar nodded and glanced back to where he heard Sharon’s voice. He was faced with a decision: inform the other leaders about Sharon’s observations or keep it to himself. What should I do? Cornar thought, looking skyward. He hoped for an answer, but nothing came.

  The Praetorian returned to his post, and the men resumed chatting. Ordreth moved to one of the tents and deliberately held it open for a while. Sharon could remove her cloak inside the tent without arousing suspicion.

  Perhaps telling them would win their trust, Cornar thought as he crossed the grounds to the Imperial Tent. He made his way to the war room where light chatter reached his ears.

  Cornar strode into the room. All the other leaders were there, looming over the table. The scouts—a woman and two men—stood beside Grand Marshal Hezidex. Cornar stopped at the table as Kaescis spoke.

  “That’s everyone,” the prince said. “Now, Crenai, please give us your report.” That was odd. She wasn’t reporting to the grand marshal first?

  “We encountered no resistance,” the scout said. “The Wildmen are not in the ruins.”

  “What do you mean?” Krindal blurted worriedly. “Were they attacked? Were there signs of a struggle?” The scout, Crenai shook her head slowly, unsure of what to make of Krindal’s hasty questions. “It looks like they just disappeared amid their daily activities,” she continued. “We found recently used fire pits. Clothing was hanging out to dry.”

&nb
sp; “We scared them,” said Grand Marshal Galiur, sighing and shaking his head.

  “Are you sure they weren’t attacked?” Krindal asked, sounding paranoid.

  Another scout spoke up, his words ringing with agitation. “There was no sign of battle.”

  The scouts continued their reports, elaborating on the brief tale Sharon had given Cornar and the others. They spoke about the ruins’ layout. None of the scouts mentioned the seams. They wouldn’t have noticed that detail, despite this time of day. Sharon’s lenses could detect such things, even in pitch blackness.

  How will they react? Cornar thought. Would they be angry? Would they feel betrayed? The more Cornar heard about the ruins, the more he believed the Wildmen were hiding inside hidden parts of that forlorn castle.

  “Another party should go up there,” Kaescis said. “We need more information. Perhaps we can find a trail or another path coming out the other side.”

  They didn’t go anywhere, Cornar thought.

  The prince continued laying out his plans as Cornar struggled with the decision to relay Sharon’s report. Kaescis intended to chase after the Wildmen and find another encampment. The prince didn’t want to march on Klindil without the acceptance of the Wildmen.

  The other leaders began giving their input when Cornar interrupted them. “The Wildmen are still in the ruins.” Everyone stopped and studied him. “My thief followed the scouts,” he continued. The scouts didn’t look pleased, nor did their commander. Kaescis, however, remained calm and regal. “She found hidden doors throughout that castle,” Cornar added. “I think the Wildmen are hiding inside. They’re probably waiting for us to pass by before they come out of hiding.”

  Laeyit glared at Cornar. What was her problem? “I say we go into the ruins,” Cornar said. “And seek their leaders.”

  “They could be waiting in ambush,” Laeyit retorted, raising her upper lip in a wicked-looking scowl. Bratan nodded in agreement.

  “So, you think it’s a trap, Mister Dol’shir?” Kaescis asked.

  “No,” Cornar shook his head. “These people are primitive. They’re just trying to protect themselves. Trust me. I’ve run across enough primitives to understand how they react to outsiders. As long as we don’t go in there with weapons or hostile intent, we should be able to open a peaceful negotiations.”

  “You want us to walk into a trap, unarmed?” Laeyit growled. That woman has problems… Cornar thought, fighting the urge to roll his eyes. Kaescis stared at Cornar blankly.

  “That’s foolish,” Hezidex said.

  “They could be off seeking reinforcements,” Galiur said. “We should be fortifying the war camp. Have the transmuters erect barricades.”

  “No we need to chase after them,” a scout chimed in.

  A heated debate started. Everyone had their own opinions about the matter.

  “You’re thinking like civilized men,” Cornar shouted, but no one was listening.

  The meeting became chaotic. Cornar sighed. Kaescis still staring at him. The prince was the only one not speaking. Chaos ensued for a moment until Kaescis shouted, “Silence!” Everyone obeyed. “We go into the ruins. Unarmed—”

  “Kaescis!” Laeyit chided. “Don’t be fool—”

  “Shut up, Laeyit,” Kaescis rebuked the woman, then continued. “We’ll take the scouts, Mister Dol’shir’s thief, and us leaders except Hezidex. Bring your best men, Mister Dol’shir, but keep their number to a minimum.” Cornar nodded.

  “We leave now,” Kaescis said, walking away from the table. None of the leaders made a complaint, except for Krindal, who muttered to himself.

  Did he say something about elves? Cornar wondered

  With the meeting concluded, the men and women reluctantly turned from the table. Cornar, however, hurried out of the room before any of them could leave. He dashed through the Imperial Tent and ran across the grass to where his men were gathered.

  “Kalder, Nordal!” Cornar shouted. “Ordreth, Midar, Gregan!” Nordal was still where Cornar had left him, talking with Igan and Vargos. “Vargos, you too.”

  “What’s going on, Cor?” Igan asked. “We heard some ruckus coming from the tent.” He gestured back to the protrusion where the war room was located.

  “Just a heated debate,” Cornar answered. “We’re going into the ruins to draw out the Wildmen.” Igan raised his brow. The wizard obviously thought that course of action unwise.

  “So you want a barsionist, huh?” Vargos asked. “It’s a good thing I’m still around. Don’t know what you guys would do without me.”

  “Die?” Nordal asked. He was making a morbid joke, but no one laughed.

  “Sharon!” Cornar called.

  Soon, everyone Cornar had called was gathered around him. He relayed the discussion in the war room. None of them even flinched at the idea of walking into an ambush, unarmed and unarmored. Of course, they had a barsionist with them. Barsionists always vanquished the fear of death.

  * * * * *

  The Fortress of Anigar was more impressive up close, even at night. The ramp leading up the mountainside, wide enough for ten men to walk abreast, was astounding in itself. Much of the ramp was suspended above the ground—in one spot the mountainside was a good one-hundred-phineal drop. Cornar felt woozy looking over the edge. What was that sensation? Not everyone experienced it, only he and Krindal. Perhaps it was the onset of old age…

  His men were eager to see the steepness, and they took turns looking over the ramp’s edge. They had been on mountaintops before, but this was totally different. It was like looking off a cliff, but one where you could clearly see the bottom. Both of Kalda’s moons were so bright that Cornar and his men could easily see the forest below them.

  The Mindolarnians didn’t seem to even notice the staggering height. They walked right by Cornar and the other warriors. Perhaps they were simply consumed with springing this trap the Wildmen had set. The massive ramp led straight to a towering gateway, rising at least five stories high. There was no sign of a gate, only an empty opening. Cornar had expected to see the remains of tarnished metal, but there was nothing. Perhaps the gate had rusted long ago.

  Kaescis led the party through the gateway, carrying a lightstone-powered lantern. The prince was the first to reach a bridge—no longer than a dozen paces—and waited for everyone to catch up to him.

  From this vantage, Cornar could easily make out the various parts of the fortress, despite the lack of light. The Fortress of Anigar was in fact a compound of buildings interconnected by covered walkways. There was no central keep as one might expect, just a random layout of large buildings and towers that conformed to the topography of the mountain. Walls branched off from the structure that housed the gate, completely enclosing the compound.

  There was an exquisite beauty to the ruins that had survived the test of time. Some of the buildings, the towers in particular, had bulbous-shaped rooftops. Many of the buildings had columns lining their walls. The columns looked decorative, but Cornar couldn’t make out details. Perhaps if he got closer, he could use his lantern to illuminate the columns.

  All was quiet as they moved off the bridge and into the first set of wards. There were raised sections of ground that had plants growing in them. The plants looked… cultivated. They weren’t arrayed neatly, but Cornar could swear it looked like these plants were being farmed. The party passed a few towering buildings, which looked mostly intact. Many of the windows, however, were broken or completely missing their panes. The glass had probably decayed years ago.

  The prince hurried through another courtyard. This one seemed larger than the first. It had more of those raised spots of ground with plants growing in them; the plants bore some kind of fruit. Cornar departed from the others and went over to investigate, holding his lantern to the plants. One of the plants had radish-looking bulbs growing from its stems. They even had tails growing on one end. Why would something on a branch grow like that?

  “Hey,” Vargos called out in a hoarse voice,
“stop gawking at that. It’s not safe to eat.” Cornar chuckled and turned back to the others. Vargos was standing at the base of a wide staircase leading to the largest building in the fortress. The others were already at the top of the stairs, heading for a towering doorway.

  “How do you know it’s not safe to eat?” Cornar asked, nearing the old barsionist.

  “Because I don’t know what it is,” Vargos retorted. “Just listen to your elders.”

  Cornar shook his head and rolled his eyes. He jogged up the stairs, leaving Vargos behind. Cornar caught up to everyone just as they reached the towering doors.

  “… here, we can go down the left branch,” Sharon said, gesturing with her lantern. She stopped inside a towering foyer. It was rectangular, and wider than it was deep. Two broken humanoid statues stood along the far wall, poised with their arms in the air. Much of their identifying features were broken off, but the pieces were nowhere to be found. “There’s a large room there that had the largest concentration of things.”

  “We can get there faster going to the right,” Crenai said, pointing in that direction.

  “But there are more of those seams in the hallways to the left,” Sharon retorted. She hurried off down the left side of the foyer with Ordreth close behind her. Cornar paused and raised his lantern, studying the statues for a moment. Odd that they’d be weathered, he thought. Especially when the architecture outside is in good cond—

  Vargos bumped his shoulder, causing the lantern to sway. Light bounced all over the room. The old barsionist grinned. He had collided with Cornar on purpose. “So when should I cast my spells?” Vargos asked, looking around cautiously.

  “Not yet, master barsionist,” Kaescis said.

  Vargos grunted, looking to Cornar. “We should all be lined by a thin layer of barsion,” Vargos said. “Who knows, maybe we could palm ourselves off as divine beings. Glowing a brilliant luster. Invulnerable to attack.” The old barsionist grinned at his remarks, thinking he made a joke.

  Vargos… Cornar shook his head.

  The party wound their way through a maze of corridors, passing rooms without doors.