In A Time Of Darkness
Page 72
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Outside, the King sighed. Not of exasperation, but of relief. He pulled an already lit torch off the outside wall, reaching back one last time to make sure the barricade was in place. Perhaps Kalinies would find something, perhaps not. The King had truly not expected him to. He had not placed him in the Library and locked him in to motivate him to find answers; he simply did not want him asking questions.
He trusted Kalinies more than anyone in his kingdom, but what he had, where he was headed he could not even share with the Wizard. Idimus remained in the Kingdom of Kaldus, walking passed the cold obsidian tiles that made up the walkway. He strode around the storage building on the opposite side and along the edge of the northern tower, lurching his way to the utmost corner of the northwest wall.
It was a short walk usually, but it had taken far longer for the King. His paranoid nature forcing his head over his shoulder every step, his eyes to every dark corner. He was fearful that someone--anyone--would follow him and discover the secret he kept here.
Only one stone slab existed amidst the dirt and grass, most of it covered, made simply to look like an architectural flaw. That simply was a rouse in case any happened upon it. The plank could actually be moved, and the hole beneath it led to a dank cavern of moldy granite three feet wide by ten feet high. It stretched out twenty feet, buried deep in the earth. At the end, chained to the wall—both hands and feet—was the reason Idimus did not stress Kalinies inaptitude regarding Fate. He had someone that could tell him all he ever needed to know.
Savados.
Alive and well. Kidnapped by the King days after he destroyed Highlace and brought here, fed every week by a deaf mute in order to save him from starving. Idimus had called upon him several times, occasionally to repeat the spell Endless Days for his constitutes, but now his existence was more important than ever. He would use him as he had before, for information to keep his Kingdom alive. The King had considered such when Grahamas first surfaced, but with Valaira able to enter as she pleased—without warning or making herself obvious—he feared making this journey and revealing his secret. Now, he did not imagine she would ever set foot on these grounds for a long time.
The Tyrant cast one final look around before kneeling to slip his finger in the tiny hole near the stone's edge. With a grunt from the King, a scrape from the block and the door was loosed. Immediately Idimus was overwhelmed by a thick, rotten stench, so potent it forced him back.
He had to allow several minutes to pass before it was diluted enough for him to enter, even then his hand was forced to his nose to plug it off. Now breathing through his mouth, he stepped down, right hand against his face, left holding the torch. He had only taken two steps when the tip of his boot slipped forward. He thought nothing of it. "Moss..." He believed. "or something worse..." An assumption garnered by the stench. So he continued on, only to have his foot glide again, and he was forced to investigate.
Blood.
Anxiety struck him, first fearing that Savados had somehow managed to end his own life. No longer concerned of his stability, and almost losing it on several counts, he charged forward.
The twenty foot sprint ended abruptly, Idimus stopped dead by the sight that lay before him. The blood did not belong to Savados, rather the man designated to feed him. A man who now hung there, a deep wound in his chest, what was left of Savados’ manacles wrapped around his throat.
Highlace’s Sage was nowhere to be found. Idimus had only enough sanity to whisper "No..."