Lorian seemed embarrassed. Thaugmir continued.
"Just remember all that I have taught you, my son. Remember that you always have a home at the Shadow Spire."
He moved forward to embrace Lorian. Lorian returned the hug and he could feel tears on his shoulders. Thaugmir just hoped Lorian would remember this when the time came. Thaugmir was also on the verge of tears. Nothing he had ever planned in all his life had gone so perfectly.
Chapter 5
Gawain was walking along the town with Lorian trailing slightly behind. It was past midday and most of the townsfolk had just finished their lunch. Gawain could not help but curse Thaugmir as he realized how the worm had bought his freedom. He turned around again to Lorian who seemed a little sad at leaving the spire. They were still within the influence of the tower and Gawain could feel the tower moaning. This boy who stood next to him could have been the true master of the Shadow Spire. One that could have embraced its true power, the master that the tower deserved and wanted. Gawain was saddened to be taking Lorian away from the tower. But he would be doing the boy a favor. Maybe someday Lorian could return to claim the Shadow Spire as well. The spire seemed to agree.
Gawain could still not believe his luck. Magic seemed to flow out of the child. Gawain could see remnants of the last spells that the boy had cast. Utter perfection. When taught the Lumen, there would be no limits to what the boy would be able to achieve. But he still had a long hard way to go before he could be taught its secrets. Gawain considered Thaugmir a fool for letting the boy go. If he were in Thaugmir's place, he would have found some other way to remove the spell, even if it took him another hundred years.
"Where is Norvind, Master Gawain?" asked Lorian. Gawain was a little bewildered at the question. Children on the streets told legends of the mage tower at Norvind. Every fledgling mage wanted to study there. Lorian seemed embarrassed and his cheeks flushed as he continued.
"I never really got to travel much out of the spire. The only places I know are my village and the spire," he said.
"Surely you do have some maps and history books at the spire," replied Gawain softly.
"Master Thaugmir only ever told us to study magic. I never had too much time to study the history books. I did read a lot about mages though."
Gawain shook his head. History was an essential subject. For anyone. The boy had much to learn and Gawain would need to take his education in hand.
"The eastern coast of Ryga. As soon as we are out of the tower's range, we can teleport there. Although we have a few stops to make on the way. I have to meet a few old friends," said Gawain.
"Friends like Master Thaugmir?" asked Lorian with a grin. Gawain laughed. He seemed to have the same sense of humor as Gawain.
"No, child. They aren't even mages. Some of them are old and dear friends. And some are traveling traders who bring me supplies. They also bring me news from far-off places like the tundra. I'm too old to be traveling very often, so I try to get a lot of work done when I step out of Norvind."
"News from the tundra? About Namoth?"
"Well...that too, yes. But Namoth doesn't concern me too much right now. It's not only events of the larger scale that we need to keep an eye on, Lorian. Awareness is very important. Information can sometimes be a more powerful tool than magic if you know how to use it."
Lorian nodded.
"Let me carry that," said Lorian, reaching over and taking hold of Gawain's bag. Before Gawain could protest, the boy had both bags slung on his shoulders.
"Will you teach me how to use the Lumen?" asked Lorian.
"The Lumen is unlike any other spell that you are used to. You will learn about the Lumen when the time comes. There is much that you have to study before you can take that step."
"What do I need to know before I can start?" asked Lorian. Gawain saw raw hunger and excitement in his eyes. The same look he had often seen in Astrid. The same hunger that had led to her impatience and betrayal. Gawain had never given her any reasons as to why he hadn't taken her on as an apprentice. It was probably his fault. She was not a little girl, and he should have given her specific answers when she asked instead of leaving her to work them out on her own. Perhaps she would have still been alive. Gawain would not make the same mistake with Lorian.
"I will let you know everything once we reach Norvind. If I find that you know all that is needed, we can start off immediately."
The hunger died in his eyes and he bowed his head. He seemed to be satisfied with that answer. Good. He was patient.
"How long till we reach Norvind, Master?"
"With all the people that I must meet on the way, I can't really say. I would be obligated to stay with some of them. So, three days at the most?"
"How long would it take if we went by foot? Without teleporting in between?" asked Lorian.
Gawain racked his brains for a short while and burst into laughter.
"Master?" asked Lorian. He appeared to be confused.
"Nothing, child. I cannot remember the last time I traveled to Norvind by foot."
Chapter 6
Castle Norvind stood atop its namesake mountain. From a very large distance, the castle appeared to meld into the mountain itself. This was partially true since the lower levels of the castle directly opened into the labyrinthine caverns of the mountain below it. The throne room of Norvind was supposedly magnificent. There were some paintings on the castle walls that depicted a nameless king holding audience from a throne of black stone. Legend had it that the room had been formed naturally out of the mountain and that the rest of the castle was built around it.
But for Rennar, there was no way to know.
He was the first Governor of Bren and his authority here was absolute, only second to the Aegean Emperor Thyurin from his throne in the far off Aegean Isles, and perhaps the treasurer to whom Rennar answered, but who had no formal authority over him. Indeed, Rennar fancied himself the King of Bren, and a few short weeks after taking his position, had tried to get the door to the throne room opened. To no avail. He even had some of Thyurin's mages come from Aegis to try their magic at opening the door. But even they were clueless as to where to begin.
It was because he couldn't sit in the throne room that he now sat in an adjoining chamber. The servants assured him that King Kesseleth, who had been disposed of by the Aegean army during the colonization, had himself been locked out of the throne room on a permanent basis. Apparently Kesseleth's ancestors too had a similar problem.
He couldn't very well approach the mages of Norvind for help with the throne room. Rennar had received strict orders from the emperor himself that he was to have no contact with the mages in the tower and was to simply stay out of their way. They would not interfere in Rennar's business, and he was most definitely not to interfere in theirs. Rennar wasn't foolish enough to dare disobey Emperor Thyurin. But he constantly brooded over both—the mage tower and the throne room. They were the only two symbols that challenged his authority. The feeling will pass, he thought, shaking his head and bringing his mind back to the present.
He was reclining on a cushioned couch and partaking in a sumptuous meal of pheasant. The bird had been well preserved and brought over from Aegis by ship. The local food was purely functional, which was to say it kept you going, but hailing from one of the richest noble families of Aegis, and married to a distant relative of the emperor himself, Rennar was used to much richer food. It was with much pleasure that he now ate the meal in front of him.
Joining him for the meal was Khamis, whose father, Xurukk, was the leader of the slaver nomads. Standing before them was Kirrel, Rennar's own master of spies. There was very little that went on in Bren without Rennar knowing, thanks to Kirrel. Kirrel had contacts even back in the Aegean Isles and it was that information that Rennar now needed.
"So," said Rennar, his mouth half full of food, "Azrael, eh?"
"Yes, Governor," replied Kirrel. "Azrael Llothran. The second son of Lord Serael Llothran."
; Rennar was not happy. The topic under discussion was that of replacing the overseer at the iron mines of Bren. The mines were a short distance away from Bren and held the strongest ore in the known lands. It was in fact because of the mines that Emperor Thyurin had wanted southeastern Ryga. Weakened as the kingdoms of Ryga were after Naxannor's passage, Thyurin had pounced upon them to establish his own rule. The governors held authority on all administrative matters, but the mines fell under the purview of the overseer, an appointment made by the Chief Justiciar in far-off Aegis. The overseer would sit at Fortress Marduk, near the mines a small way off Mountain Norvind. Rennar would not be able to sit at Marduk to take care of the mines and Castle Norvind at the same time, so the overseer was an essential post. It also maintained a division in power so that the governor would not be too powerful.
"Tell me about him," said Rennar.
"He was at the imperial academy for four years. His skill with the sword is well known across the isles. He won several tournaments. There was plenty of talk that his skill with the sword could rival that of the Emperor's fourth son, Elben. With his brother Uriel carrying on his father's name, he chose to serve in the military. He was directly accepted into the army at the rank of captain."
Rennar had to raise his eyebrow. Only one captain came out of the academy every three years. This had to be Azrael's own merit. The academy did not accept bribes and belonging to noble families meant nothing. Emperor Thyurin had worked hard to make the Aegean military the best in all the lands, and the academy was at its core. He would not allow it to fall to corruption. And as for rivaling Elben's skill with the sword, Rennar had seen Prince Elben fight, and if Azrael was even half as good, it meant something.
"He served under General Albinus during the Deckan campaign. Rumor has it that he saved Albinus's life, even taking a wound for him. His father had been trying to get Azrael out of the campaign ever since it began. My sources tell me that Azrael wasn't very happy with the campaign either. It appears Albinus had decided to grant him his request in gratitude for saving his life."
"What's not to be happy about the Deckan campaign?" asked Rennar, confused. The Deckan campaign was an important step in colonizing northern Ryga. The barbarian tribes of the central plans were surely not that strong, and by all accounts, the campaign was going very well. It would have been over in a year at the most. Azrael and the others could have returned home heroes. Kirrel appeared to hesitate.
"This might not be true, but my sources tell me he did not think it honorable to slaughter innocent tribesmen. He was at odds with his superiors many times as to the methods they chose. He even suggested reasoning with them to avoid bloodshed. It was only his status as Lord Llothran's son that prevented him from being tried for treason."
The idiot, thought Rennar. This was the last thing he needed. An overseer with scruples. The iron from Bren was utterly valuable and at least three times stronger than that from the mines in neighboring kingdoms. It had strange properties and was used to make weapons of a magical nature as opposed to conventional ones. It was much in demand by the paladins of Myria to forge their own weapons. The Aegean Isles made a fantastic fortune selling the iron to Eora and its Army of Light.
The magical iron, however, came at a cost. It was also thrice as hard to mine. Yet Rennar managed to match the produce of the easier-to-mine and cheaper-quality iron from other kingdoms. With only two-thirds the labor. He did this by working the miners to the bone. Conditions in the mines were harsh and he needed an overseer who could push the miners further. Most were slave labor bought from Xurukk and his slaver nomads.
"So why is this idiot being appointed the overseer? Has the Chief Justiciar gone mad?" asked Rennar. He was cursing that the previous overseer, a man by the name of Egrik, had been foolish enough to get himself killed. His was an appointment made on Rennar's own recommendation. Egrik was a fool, but he was Rennar's fool. He was also perfect for the mines, being a man of carnal tastes and a violent appetite. Azrael might be a master swordsman with a military background, but he did not want someone with a conscience.
"The Llothran family holds a reasonable stake in the mines at Bren. Lord Serael lobbied extensively to get this post for his second son. That...and Azrael had a recommendation from General Albinus."
The recommendation alone would have clinched the position. Albinus was a legend in the isles. His campaigns during the colonization were spoken of with awe. Bards at banquets told tales of them only second to those of Emperor Thyurin himself and the Council of Three. This seemed to be good news. If his family stood to make a fortune, perhaps Azrael would simply turn a blind eye to the conditions at the mines. The last word at the mines fell to the overseer, and ever since Egrik had died, Rennar had been wishing that it would be some spineless fool who would take the post. Rennar had an understanding with many of the foremen and the guards at the mines, and if Azrael simply stood aside, things would be just the way they had been for the past few years. Rennar had his own secrets at the mines.
"So when is he due here?" asked Rennar.
"He has already embarked from the isles a week ago, my lord. He should be here in a day."
"Is there anything more you can tell me about him?"
"Nothing that would interest you, Governor." Kirrel seemed to be holding something back. He spoke after some consideration.
"He seems to be prone to visions. His father had contacted several physicians and mages when he was younger. I have some contacts in their household. He still takes several herbs and medicines. Before he joined the academy, he was addicted to the smoke of Amaryl leaves."
Rennar laughed. He turned to see the Khamis had nearly choked on his food.
"He should be very happy here then, Governor, shouldn't he?" asked Khamis with a wide grin on his face.
The slaver nomads also dealt with Amaryl. The leaves grew in deep desert areas and could be found only by the indigenous tribes. And of course, smugglers and slavers who could extract information from the tribes. Rennar had tried it himself once, but never found the need to continue. He realized it was a potent drug and could rob you off your will to live. Over countless generations, the slaver nomads had developed a natural resistance and were hardened enough to the drug, that they could use it recreationally. The old nobles of Bren, too, were immune to an extent. The effect on the islanders, however, was very devastating. The drug had been outlawed by Emperor Thyurin in the isles, but there was still considerable black-market trade.
"You must be slipping, Kirrel, thinking that news was of no import. It looks like we do have some measure of control over our new overseer."
Kirrel's only response was a nod of the head. He had understood. Good.
"Enough about him. What news of our self-styled king? Is he dead yet?"
Rennar was referring to Artemis, the only man left alive who could lay a credible claim to the throne of Norvind. He was somehow related to the late king, if the rumors spoke true, but Rennar doubted it. Relatives often magically appeared when there was a death and an inheritance to be claimed. Especially one as large as a crown. Rennar had dealt a crushing blow to Artemis some months ago, destroying a large portion of his rebel army. The coward himself had fled north and taken refuge in one of the northern kingdoms, Simea. All the northern kingdoms were still independent...for now. They too would eventually fall under the Aegean Empire's yoke, but till then Rennar had no direct control over the affairs there.
He had learnt through spies that Artemis sought help from the Rhial Council, the leaders of an ancient order of knights, that ruled Simea. Rennar did not know if they were religious but they were just as fanatical as the paladins of Myria. Artemis apparently sought to seek their aid in reclaiming his throne. Kirrel had assured him that the Rhial Council had no intentions of doing so, but Rennar was not about to take a chance. He used a considerable amount of gold to see the task complete. He wanted Artemis's head at his feet.
"Artemis, my lord? He appears to have taken refuge at the home of one
of the Rhial Council knights."
"I know, fool! What news from Garren?"
Garren Winters was a renowned assassin from the Black Raven thieves' guild in Archon, the shadier part of the Aegean Isles. He had been sent to work for Rennar after a large sum had been deposited in their coffers by Rennar's men back in Aegis. Apparently, like so many in his trade, Garren had considerable knowledge of magic and select skills that enabled him to perform his tasks. Rennar did not know the specifics, but he had been assured that Garren was the best and would see the task to completion.
"He...is yet to complete the task. He has not sent any news of late, my lord."
"He seems to forget whom he's working for..."
"Not at all, my lord. The Ravens assured me that he is their most dedicated man. He might not let us know what he is doing in a timely manner, but he supposedly gets the task done. No man or woman marked by him has ever lived for more than three years after."
None had lived, eh? Rennar certainly hoped so. He did hear the rumors about the man when he had first met with an emissary from the Ravens. Rennar explained the deed. And he also told the emissary that the price was not a concern. He wanted the very best for this job.
"You want Garren Winters," said the emissary. "If you want a man dead at any cost, then Garren is your man. He's been an assassin for twenty years now. Never missed a single mark."
"Yes, yes I've heard that from nearly everyone. Some of my associates back in Aegis have made use of him on occasion. They've sung enough praises of him that I've called you here. But I'd like to know more about the man. For the amount I'm paying, I would at least like to know how he does his job. Is he a mage? Does he use a blade? Poisons?"
The emissary shrugged. "Truth be told, nobody knows. Nobody has ever seen him kill. He carries a sword and dagger in his belt, but I've never seen him draw either weapon. Not once. He isn't a man who goes around picking fights. Or even one to respond with violence to any situation. He keeps to himself a lot of the time. Most men in his occupation have a reputation of sorts. Violence. Bloodlust. They all have stories to tell. All except Garren. There are no stories for him. Just a long list of people he killed that others couldn't."
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