by Nic Weissman
Then they slipped inside, one by one. The cleric was the last to descend. With Erion and Thost's help, Ithelas put the grid in place again. Touching the bottom of the iron with his hands, he cast a new restorative spell like the one he had used in his father's chain mail that morning. He was careful not to completely repair the grid; only two points on the base to allow it to hold. Thus it would be much less effort to pull it back if for some reason they decided to try to escape from that place.
A while later they heard as the guard came to that area outside the castle. They waited hidden and impatient. The grid remained upright and only if they carefully examined it they could see that it had been tampered with. The guard passed. They had not seen them. They were inside the castle.
CHAPTER 5: THE ORB
Urlabus hated traveling, and this commission had forced him to do so more than ever. First he had to go to Norvik, to have to end up participating in that insane auction. All efforts to get there quickly had not helped at all and, ultimately, they had had to pay a crazy sum to get the item. And to make matters worse, he had to cross the Kingdom to bring the orb to its destination.
Devgon said he didn't trust anyone else to transport it. It really was a dangerous object. But that was why he built the special container! And it had cost him a lot of work. But it had not helped. In the end they could not send a soldier of confidence, no! He had to go, even though he got really dizzy when he traveled.
At least Devgon had provided a luxurious covered wagon that was drawn by four horses. His driver was professional, experienced and capable, but also surly and unhelpful. And those roads! When they crossed Bor Central it hadn't been so bad, but when they abandoned that county to enter the marks, the roads became irregular, poorly maintained, narrow and twisty. The cart kept jumping and Urlabus had gotten dizzy on several occasions. That idiot driver never heard him, when he asked them to stop.
As they passed near the capital, they were joined by an escort of eight soldiers. Four preceded the cart and the other four were guarding the rear. At least he could feel safe with that deployment. No bandit would even get a league close to them. Each time they stopped there was always a horse that took the opportunity to relieve himself. For Oris, what huge amounts of excrement! It was amazing everything that fit inside the belly of those animals. The smell was foul and Urlabus genuinely didn't know if he got dizzier during the journey or when they stopped at a stream to let the horses rest and drink.
The distance was too great. He had been traveling almost a week in that cart and that was more than a human being could resist. At least they were almost there and they would hopefully reach their destination the next day. Once he gave the orb, he would seek a good inn to rest in a comfortable bed for several days. He'd need rest before starting the way back to the capital. He expected, at least, that that ungrateful Devgon would recognize his efforts and dedication as they deserved. If not, the next time he'd have another mission like that one, he'd have to find someone else!
Urlabus would have been happy using a portal to teleport instead of making that infernal and endless journey. But it was not advisable to go through a portal with such a powerful object like that one. The power of the orb could destabilize the portal and the result would be fatal. Urlabus had heard that magicians of great power, as the Masters in Magic, could create portals that remained stable, even when carrying the most powerful objects through them; but Urlabus had not reached that level yet. So he had to travel leagues and leagues of chariots and dusty roads.
The carriage took a new bump and jumped. Urlabus almost hit the ceiling with his head. Then he heard a bang and the cart was destabilized. The driver pulled the reins sharply while the horses whinnied scared. Soon after, they managed to stop abruptly and the cart was still twisted. Outside they could hear several men talking loudly. Finally, the driver opened the door and asked him to come down. It was no easy task given the inclination of the carriage. Despite the lack of help the driver, he got down. He carried the container, which he didn't separate from even when he was sleeping.
The last downturn had damaged the vehicle axles and it lost a wheel. It was impossible to continue. The driver took one of the horses and went back down the road to try to recover the wheel. Two soldiers accompanied him. The other six kept circling the wagon while keeping lookout on all sides.
“What is it, soldier? Why so much deployment?” the magician asked restlessly.
“Your Honor, it is a common tactic to sabotage the roads to bring a stop to the party when it is intended to launch an ambush. Many robbers use this trick. Whenever there is an accident of this type, we prefer to think the worst and be prepared. You never know,” the soldier said.
Well, this was more information than Urlabus wanted to know. Were they really in danger? Was this accident provoked? The magician was not sure, but as the minutes went by, he became more and more nervous. Where had that driver gone to? Why was he taking so long?
Somewhat later the man appeared carrying the heavy wheel in his horse. He explained that it had cost him to find it. It had shot out of the way and had gone into the field about fifteen steps away. Because the grass was so high, it had not been easy to locate. It took nearly an hour to fix the carriage and three soldiers were required to lift it, to be able to make the repairs. And it was only provisional! In the next town they would have to stop and make a more serious repair. Possibly they would have to spend the night there. Great! How horrible! Almost another day late and they still would have to stay over to sleep in a seedy village. Urlabus thought that, with the luck he had, there probably wouldn't have a decent inn there and he'd have to sleep in a stinking tavern.
The procession started off again, this time much slower. Finally, they hadn't been attacked. It really had been an accident; a more eventful journey, which Urlabus hadn't enjoyed. The magician could not wait for this mission to end.
*******
Vargarr took a deep breath and looked at both sides of the table. He was accompanied by Gorusag Fish, Marquis of Mositus, Lakajev Murin, Count of Borydos and the colonels of Mositus, Kiyats, Borydos and Golsou. The colonels leaded the troops of each territory that depended on the corresponding count or marquis. Each county also had a lieutenant who commanded the troops of the Royal Army in said territory. The deputies responded to General Bellish, so they had had to keep them out of the operation, although Vargarr knew that more than one would have willingly participated in it.
Vargarr had avoided General Bellish and had obtained a direct approval of the King for those maneuvers, but he had only informed his majesty of the participation of the Mositus and Central Bor troops. If the King had known of the scale of the exercise, he wouldn't have approved it without consulting Bellish first, and this would have wiped out the entire plan. Therefore, it was essential to keep the other majors out of it for the moment. They should also try so that the Kiyats, Golsou, and Borydos troops withdraw as soon as possible, since they really weren't allowed to participate in the exercise. Given the proximity of the border with Golsou, perhaps they could justify their presence after an orc attack alert. But Kiyats and Borydos were several days away and they wouldn't be able to explain why their troops were in that place anyway. The involved were running major risks, but the prize was worth it.
“Do you have any news about the orb?” the Marquis Gorusag asked.
“My courier just informed me that they have had a small delay. They will not come tonight as planned, but tomorrow afternoon,” Vargarr said.
“This is unfortunate. We can't waste any more time. If your majesty finds out what we're doing we'll be in very serious trouble. What if someone from the Royal Army or the Court comes to witness the maneuvers without warning?” Gorusag insisted.
“You're right. But I don't think that this small delay from our friend Urlabus is what will define the deadlines here. I heard we have an even greater delay in the trenches. Is this true?” Lakajev asked, inquisitive.
“I don't know,” Gorusag respond
ed. Savamon?” he asked, turning to his colonel.
“Mmm ... we have a delay in this task. We do not understand what is happening. We had made maneuvers in this area before and had dug trenches. It is a clayey soil, for the most part, and usually a crew can dig a trench in an afternoon,” Savamon said.
“Abbreviate. What's going on?” Gorusag said impatiently.
“Every time we dig a ditch, we end up finding rock at the middle of the job, so we have to move to another place and start over. In several cases we had to dig in up to five different places before finishing the trench of the corresponding regiment. But we are making progress. We are simply taking longer than expected. It's very strange. We can't understand it. Moreover, the heavy artillery is already in place and secured: catapults, crossbows and turrets.”
“When will you be completely ready?” Vargarr asked impatiently.
“I hope that at the end of tomorrow morning everything will be finished. We can confirm it tomorrow,” Savamon affirmed.
“That is another two days. At the very least!” the count of Borydos said.
Vargarr knew that the colonels of Kiyats and Golsou couldn't stand their Mositus colleague. Being neighbors there were constant rivalries. One of the major issues of dispute was the distribution of the IPF (Inter-territorial Protection Funds). These were funds that the Crown assigned through the bureaucracy of the Royal Army, to help finance the troops of the various territories; essentially they were intended to use part of the taxes to redistribute money to the marks, which were the main ones responsible for defending the border. Countless disputes had occurred between territories, at some point resulting in skirmishes between troops over the control of those funds. At present, the distribution criterion was established according to the number of leagues of the border that each mark covered, but the criterion had changed many times. Additionally, the personalities of these three colonels were very different and not fully compatible. Vargarr couldn't allow any risk of schism in that group at that crucial moment. So, he decided to lend a hand to Savamon.
“Well, let's not get nervous. I will strengthen the body of sappers of Mositus with some troops so that we can accelerate the completion of the work. In this way, we'll make sure to be ready in two days at the latest. I think more than one day is not the end of the world, but we must make sure we are well prepared,” Vargarr said.
They all agreed with this plan, though it was obvious that there was a lot of tension and nervousness in the air. Various details, such as the disposition of troops on the ground, the strategy and the different scenarios that they could expect, were studied and discussed by the group. At the end of the meeting they were all reasonably satisfied with the level of training they had. After that, the colonels took leave to return to their respective command tents. Gorusag, Vargarr and Lakajev stayed to talk a little more.
“This very night I'll return to my palace. I'd rather not be here, because of what might happen,” Gorusag said nervously.
“Wise decision. Don't worry; leave everything to me. In addition, Savamon is a very competent man and I'm sure he'll keep you well informed,” Vargarr said, glad to have gotten rid of the Marquis.
“I, too, will retire to the rear as we agreed,” Lakajev said. “So, see you tomorrow afternoon to go to the tower?”
“Yes. I'll pick you up at the start of the afternoon. The tower is not far, as you will see. There we'll start the final phase of our plan.”
The three men parted, wishing each other luck. A new chapter in the history of the Kingdom was about to begin; and they were the ones who were going to write it.
*******
Mositus mark was one of the wettest places in the kingdom of Bor. This, combined with the low temperatures of that day, made it really unpleasant to be outdoors. Today was the day that the orb should reach its destination. Sathudel waited impatiently on the top floor of the tower. A squadron of soldiers from the Royal Army from Central Bor County and loyal to Vargarr protected the place, inside and outside the tower.
Everyone who was there, except Sathudel, believed to be watching the prison of a dangerous spy, who had fallen into the hands of the troops of the Marquis. Sathudel was the only one with permission to climb to the top floor where the "prisoner" was held. He was responsible for the food that the logistics delivered daily for the maintenance of the soldiers and the prisoner himself. Actually, Sathudel ate a part of what they cooked for the prisoner and got rid of the rest.
No one could suspect that the top floor of the tower had been selected as the place to locate the mighty Orb of Wrath. Urlabus would be responsible for bringing it up there, and activating it when the time came. They expected the magician to arrive that afternoon. Sathudel was a man of Vargarr's utmost confidence and was totally loyal. He was a skillful soldier, cleverly directing the detachments of troops, which the major had understood that he was an ideal candidate for this task.
Sathudel warned the soldiers that important visitors would come that afternoon to interrogate the prisoner: the Count of Borydos, a powerful magician and Vargarr himself. But that was a top secret mission and they couldn't reveal any details to anyone. Between the history, reasonably credible, and the blind loyalty professed by their commander, no soldier suspected what was really happening.
Sathudel looked out of one of the windows of the tower and saw in the distance, a carriage drawn by four horses. The orb was about to arrive. Some exciting days lay ahead.
CHAPTER 6: THE CASTLE
Despite the light from the skylight, the brightness of the room was quite dim. It took a moment for them to adjust. They were in a small room of about six by five steps. Interestingly, all the furniture was covered with tarps and the state of the room indicated that it hadn't been used in a while. Mithir uncovered one of the furniture that was located next to the wall. It was a kind of bureau in which they could see papers, envelopes and scrolls. Everything was yellow and old. The furniture was very very old but was well maintained. The wood was of a dark reddish color and it was hard, compact and very heavy. Ithelas explained that it was caliba, a tree that grew in tropical forests, often used to make luxury furniture. You could find this type of furniture in courts around the world and in the homes of the wealthy.
There seemed to be nothing of interest there, so they approached the door, which was closed. Erion said, quietly, that he would go ahead. Nobody thought to argue. The young man came and put his ear to the door, asking them to keep silence. Shortly thereafter, he slowly opened the door and looked out. They were in a corridor that was even darker. The only illumination was a small lamp on the wall. It seemed to be of those which illuminate perpetually by magic. The furniture in the corridor weren't covered, and you could tell it had been cleaned, perhaps a week or two ago. In that passage four more doors communicated; one attached, just to the right of Erion, two at the side in the middle of the gallery and another at the opposite end.
With a gesture he asked the group to wait there and started creeping up to each one of them to listen. They all were surprised to see how the young man moved. There was absolutely no noise. A sound of a fly could be heard, but not Erion's steps. After a quick inspection, Erion came back and opened the first door, next to the waiting room where the rest of the group was. It was a bedroom. Again all the furniture was covered with tarps. The young man quickly scanned the room. With his training he could determine, in a couple of glimpses, if you find something worthwhile. Like the living room, it seemed that the room had not been used in centuries.
Erion went back into the hall and then went into the next room. It was another room much like the previous one, but larger. It hadn't been used in a long time. Finally, he opened the door of the fourth room and found, this time, another bedroom but without tarps. Its condition was similar to the hall. It had been used recently and had no old dirt; although it was not very clean, and perhaps a week or two had passed since it had been cleaned and the floors scrubbed. The common element in all the rooms was the lack of window
s or skylights that allowed the sunlight to enter; like the hall, the room was dimly lit by a few lamps on the wall.
The bed was made and had blue sheets. Erion checked them; they were of fine silk, an exquisite fabric. He smelled the bedclothes and, by the fragrance, concluded that a woman, perhaps a young one, had slept there. The smell was faint, but Erion's senses were tuned. He checked the drawers, but couldn't find much. There was a towel, blankets and little else. Beside the bed there was a table with a huge bowl and a pitcher of water on the side. It was a common solution for personal hygiene, and very convenient to be in the bedroom itself. What caught Erion's attention was that there was no mirror on the wall behind the toilet, which was unusual.
There was only one door left, the one at the opposite end of the hall. Erion sensed that it would lead to a different area of the castle. Since he had not heard any noise through it, he had no idea what they would find. With a gesture he called the group, which walked in silence.
“There's nobody in this area. Only one room, a bedroom, has been used, although not in the last two days,” he explained in whispers.
“What're we going to do now?” Ithelas asked.
“There's only that door left. I will continue exploring,” the young man said.
He told them in whispers some more details of what he had seen and asked them to wait there as he walked into the next room. Before he even touched any door, Erion always checked it thoroughly, especially on certain specific points. Upon visual inspection, he touched them, with really bizarre movements, always following the same routine.