“I’d like to help you, but the matter is entirely out of my hands. When you get a new permit request, I will be happy to process that, and you will be allowed to continue your research. Have a good day.” Folding her hands on the counter, she simply stared at the door.
Delas took a last glance at the woman, and her eyes shifted over the woman’s shoulder. On the table behind her was an open book, but the old man in the blue robe was gone. She felt Adam’s tug at her elbow and the two exited the building into the bright sunlight.
* * * *
Adam kicked a small stone, sending it flying across the road into the short grass. He was silent while they walked down a side path and stopped at a stone bench and sat down. He dropped his pack next to Delas’ and sat down on the bench.
“So what can we do? We can’t get a permit renewal from your guild. We can’t enter Tangles Hall without the passkey talisman, and the only person who can give us one of those is the pleasant woman in that building,” Adam said, his voice full of frustration.
“We’ll think of something.”
“And who is Grenon Briseal?” Adam asked.
Delas could feel his stare, but she refused to look at him.
For a long time, Delas didn’t say anything.
Should I tell him? She thought.
Finally, she cleared her throat, and turned to see Adam still looking at her, waiting for her to say something.
“I’m part of the Guild of the Rose. I joined their order when I was only ten, given to them by my parents when I showed sensitivity to the mystic arts. As you know, there is a general dislike, almost a scorn, for users of magic, but my Grandfather was a healer, so my parents were more accepting than most. I was accepted to the Guild and began my training. The guild was not just about the arts. No, I actually had just started those studies. For seven years I learned reading and writing in the common and ancient tongues, humility, service to others, human anatomy, economics and politics.”
“I imagined that the guilds only trained a person in that guild’s specialties,” Adam said.
“The guilds provide a broad foundation in education across many fields with specific instruction in the particular skills of that guild. They seem to feel it makes others more inclined to accept you and your magical abilities.”
Delas took a deep breath and released it a bit at a time, and then continued, “Grenon Briseal was a student in my Guild. He arrived several weeks after I did and didn’t really fit in. He was withdrawn and quiet. There were days that he would be studying and you would be hard pressed to pull a handful of words from him. And then one day, it was like a light turned on inside him. He and I would speak for hours at a time, about our pasts and what we thought might happen to us in our futures. He was the first boy I ever kissed, and I was his first as well.”
An awkward silence hung in the air. Delas was lost in her thoughts, deciding where to continue. She looked at Adam and saw the question forming behind his eyes.
“We fell in love with one another. We spent all of our free time sneaking away from the Guild to be with one another because there was a strict policy of no relationships between students. The council of the Guild knew the distractions that could arise and wanted to keep such things from happening so the training could continue uncompromised. We were ecstatic when both he and I were selected to come to this place to study. Anthros contains the largest collection of books, scrolls and illustrations assembled since time began. It is said you could spend five lifetimes reading all there is to experience and you would still only scratch the surface. We spent three wonderful days there, reading histories in the original elven. It was great honor to go to the library.”
Delas looked out across the grass. “We were also away from the Guild, so we could spend time with one another in the open, for the most part, and besides the great knowledge we both gained here, our relationship blossomed as well.” Tears flowed over Delas’ cheeks and hung at the edge of her face.
“I see.” Adam simply said, his eyes now downcast, tracing the stonework underneath the edge of the bench that he sat on.
“During the two-day return to the Guild, we noticed nothing out of the ordinary. When we were several miles of our Guild, we spotted smoke rising on the horizon in the direction of the Guild.
Delas wiped the tears away with the side of her finger.
“Grenon was at my side when the caravan was attacked. We were both on horseback and his mount was hit by an arrow. He was thrown and I dismounted immediately to make sure he was okay. In the confusion of the attack, we worked our way through the horses that were clumped together. It was madness, the riders not knowing what to do, where to go, and they fell to the archers hidden in the hillside vegetation. Everyone was screaming, the horses were snorting, panicking and I tripped over a fallen body and fell headlong onto the ground. Grenon helped me to my feet and was asking me if I was okay when his head suddenly jerked backward and he fell forward into my arms.”
Delas stopped and took several deep breaths. She sniffed deeply and then let out one final lungful of emotion-filled air.
“I caught him and fell backwards myself, and he lay on top of me. His back was punctured by three arrows. The blood…his blood, drained out of his body onto me. I tried to move him, but he was too heavy. I was about to call for someone, anyone to help and then I saw the swordsmen swarm down from the hillsides and cut down the remaining students from my Guild. I closed my eyes. I could hear the clatter of metal weapons, the sounds of rushing boots and the cries of the dying. I lay there quietly, Grenon’s body on top of mine, covered in his blood, surviving by taking shallow breaths and pretending to be dead. When everyone was finally silenced, the swordsmen began to go from body to body, taking from them personal possessions and any coin that they might have. I stole glances from the corner of my eye and watched them get closer. I knew I would be found out once they pulled Grenon’s body from mine and then I would be easily killed. When one of the attackers was almost within arms-reach of us, I heard a whistle being blown. Next I heard the sounds of boots, rapidly moving away from me and I opened my eyes and slowly eased my head in the direction of the sound. There was a man in flowing black robes with red edging. He had an air of authority and command about him. I heard him call out they had other work to do, and then they were gone.
“I laid like that for several hours, breathing in quietly, trying not to make a sound to give myself away to whoever might have stayed to watch the pass for stragglers. Finally, at nightfall, I pulled myself free of the bodies, not caring if I were cut down at that point. I was alone. I ran along the path, oblivious to anyone that would have seen me and finally arrived at the Guild. You can’t imagine the massacre.
“The courtyard was littered with bodies. Many were charred and still smoldering. Arrows were everywhere, in the bodies, stuck to the trees, the out buildings, everywhere. The main Guild building was gone. All that was left was a small partial wall near the rear fireplace. The rest of the building had burned and fallen in on itself, trapping the members of the Guild inside or forcing the survivors outside where they were cut down as they fled the flames. It was all too much for me. I found a small covered area near our well and went to sleep. The next morning, I walked the grounds, but didn’t find anyone alive.”
Releasing a loud sigh, Delas stood up rubbed her face with both hands and announced, “So I am the last of the Guild of the Rose.”
Adam rose and took Delas’ hands in his. “Delas…I’m-I’m so sorry,” he said quietly.
Delas pulled Adam close and pressed her lips on his. She pulled her hands free and placed them to the sides of his face, holding him gently close to her. The kiss lasted long moments and then Delas pulled back and looked into Adam’s blue eyes.
“Come on. We need to find a way into that building,” she said, walking toward Tangles Hall leaving Adam with his mouth agape.
* * * *
Kyle, Legan and Amber sat around the small fire and ate their rations, the c
old of the surrounding stone kept at bay. Shadows flickered on the walls, dancing to the pops and crackles of the dried wood. The sound of the rain had finally slowed to a steady pace. The thunder and lightning had moved on, following the direction of the buffeting winds.
“Legan, do you know what happened to this place? Why it’s deserted?” Kyle asked after finishing his last bite.
Legan looked at Amber who was absorbed in wiping down a dagger with a cloth. He cleared his throat loudly and then again until her attention with the blade was broken and she was looking in his direction.
“Young miss, care for a bedtime story?” he asked her.
Amber put the dagger and the cloth away and leaned back against the pack she was using as a pillow. “This should be interesting,” she said with a smile.
Legan fished through his pack and pulled a leather-bound book free, looked at the spine, replaced it and pulled out another. With a grunt, he closed the flap to the pack, and settled himself closer to the fire. He tossed another piece of broken wood onto the fire and moments later the flame grew, increasing the visible light. He opened the book, flipped through several pages and then stopped, sliding his finger over the printed pages until he found what he was looking for.
“This valley was the center of the kingdom of King Gerandal the Fourth. The good king had two sons. As was apt to happen, the two sons were as different as, say, steam and ice. They both come from the same common source, but ye can hardly confuse the two.
“The elder son was strong, handsome and being the eldest, the one that would assume the crown when his father would die. The younger of the sons wasn’t as strong physically as his brother, but what he lacked in physical brawn, he made up for in cunning and treachery.
As the years progressed, the favoritism of one son over the other became more apparent, and the younger son became more withdrawn and darker.
“You should understand that the King suffered from the affliction of the Burning Belly. He would writhe in the royal bed for hours at a time, spitting blood, as bright and red as the finest rose
“One year, at the festival of the Fall Harvest, a celebration at the castle included the King, both sons and all of the King’s senior advisers. If you know anything of the Burning Belly, you know that it can be soothed by drinking cooled goat’s milk. As was the King’s custom, the final toast of the night would be made with everyone partaking of the chilled white drink. Everyone that is, except for Thornton, the younger son, who was known to become sickly with liquid waste when he drank goat’s milk.”
“So at the festival, everyone toasted the King, the prosperous kingdom and the glorious days that lay ahead. And within an hour, all of the celebrants were dead. The last to die was the elder brother, heir to the throne. He died in Thornton’s arms.
“The Captain of the Guard questioned all that were present including Thornton, who swore he’d seen a local troublemaker skulking about the kitchen, carrying a bottle of some kind. The troublemaker was arrested, swore his innocence and was promptly beheaded. With the royal family all but dead, Thornton was crowned King, and began the twenty year reign of King Thornton the Terrible.”
“King Thornton the Terrible?” Kyle asked.
“Yes. The morning following the festival, while the kingdom was in mourning, King Thornton ordered the execution of the remaining advisers to his father. He claimed the plot to murder his beloved father and brother was more than could have been imagined by one simple-minded troublemaker. Everyone in the castle feared for their lives, but could not flee, lest that be made as an admission of their guilt. He replaced the senior advisers with one man, a wizard of some importance and power. Where his father had ruled with fairness and justice, Thornton decisions were anything but just. Where his father was adored, Thornton was hated and vilified.
“He created a secret guard, raised impossible taxes and collected two-thirds of their caught fish, the kingdom’s primary export. In his twelve year reign, he declared war on his neighbors three times, leading to the deaths of thousands of his subjects. Those that tried to leave, were captured by his secret guard and disappeared or were publicly executed as traitors or spies. Soon, the hard heart and utter lack of compassion or empathy branded King Thornton the moniker, The Stone King. First in whispers and then in the open, as the people believed they had nothing to lose.”
“In his twelfth year, the Stone King announced an increase in taxes once more and the people finally revolted. Buildings were burned, and the castle was stormed. Guards, who had sworn an allegiance to the King, looked the other way as the starving subjects stormed the food storerooms and made their way up to the King’s Throne Room. They managed to break the heavy wooden doors down, and found the King, dead, poisoned by his own hand, and the Wizard encased behind a shield of blue magic, much like Delas can create, only much stronger.”
“What did they do?” Amber asked.
“Well, of course, they tried to attack him, but his spell repelled their attempts and he mocked them for their failure. Finally, someone came up with an idea, and soon a circle of wood surrounded the shielded wizard. The wood was doused with oil and covered with green leafy limbs and set ablaze. The wood caught quickly, and as they planned, the room was soon filled with smoke, making it difficult to breathe, not just for them, but for the wizard also.
“Eventually, the thick smoke broke the concentration of the magic user and his spell failed. The blue globe that protected him dissipated and he was captured. With a blade at his throat, he cursed their bay, which was the source of wealth for the kingdom. Moments later, his head rolled and with it, the end of the reign of the Stone King.”
“So what happened with the curse? Did all the fish die?”
“Yes, they died. Suffice to say, the livelihood of the kingdom disappeared and with it the people. When we leave tomorrow, we’ll be traveling up and over into the next valley where Crystal Bay is, and you can get a look at the dangers of wizards and their magic.”
“I don’t have to travel that far, to know that,” Kyle said, holding up his glove covered hand.
“Aye that you don’t, lad. That you don’t.”
* * * *
Delas leaned against the small tree and casually watched the front door to Tangles Hall. For the last thirty minutes, they watched a handful of students enter and leave the front door. Prior to her observation from this spot, she and Adam walked around the perimeter of the building and found only one window that led into the lower levels of the library, but it was covered with thick iron bars.
She’d tried to enter the building, with the excuse of being a student that misplaced her entry talisman. Hoping for the camaraderie of a fellow student, she was shocked when the group of students she allied with, directed her to the admissions office instead to request a replacement talisman, rather than let her in. Instead of going there, she joined Adam on the green grass, leaning against the tree and watching the building for an opportunity.
Shortly after, it started to rain heavily. Delas and Adam ran to escape the rain and found an overhang near the entrance to a small out building next to Tangles Hall. It looked to be used for storage of some kind, and its door was secured with a heavy brass padlock.
“Adam, I’m beginning to think this is hopeless. I think we should…”
“Shhh. Look.” He nodded in the direction of the crushed gravel path.
Delas turned and saw two young men, struggling to carry two wooden crates stacked one upon the other. As the rain poured over them, they carried their load a short distance and then put the crates down, mumbled several words to one another and then hoisted the boxes up once again. When they turned off the main path and started in the direction of Tangles Hall, Delas had an idea. She grabbed Adam’s sleeve and pulled him in the direction of the movers.
As the two struggling movers came to a stop in front of the main door, Delas and Adam stopped walking and dropped their packs.
“Hello,” Delas said.
Out of breath, the tw
o grumbled a reply.
“We were on our way in, do you need any help?” Adam said, and looked at Delas, asking, “Do you want to help them?”
“Sure. Want some help?” she asked, making sure her voice sounded bubbly without a hint of desperation.
One of the movers wiped the rain that ran into his eye away and combed the sopping wet hair back with a gloved hand. He looked at Adam and then took a long look at Delas before turning his attention to his partner. “What do you think?”
“Hey, I’ll take all the help I can get. The quicker these get delivered, the quicker I can get out of these wet clothes.”
With a wave of the small talisman around his neck, a soft click sounded from the edge of the door and it swung open easily on oiled hinges. Adam grabbed their packs and tossed them inside and off to one side. He motioned for Delas to move to the other end of the top crate and took a firm hold of the rope handle on his end. Delas nodded once and they lifted the wooden crate up and carried it into Tangles Hall.
* * * *
Kyle sat quietly looking into the fire listening to the breathing of his companions and waited until he heard the last of them drift off into a deep sleep. He pulled his gloves off and pushed his right sleeve up to his elbow.
“Spreading, is it?”
Kyle jumped, startled at the voice from across the fire. He instinctively tried to cover his lower arm and then stopped when Legan propped himself up on one elbow.
“Nice,” Kyle said.
“Feigning sleep is one of those tricks you learn early on when you travel the open road,” Legan said, “It helps to uncover secrets that others would rather keep to themselves.” He paused, and then added, “Even secrets that might be best to share.”
Legan rolled out from under his coverings and settled himself next to Kyle.
“How did you know about the spreading?”
“Lucky guess,” Legan answered with a shrug of his shoulders. “I saw you slide your sleeve up on that arm. Figured you were checking on the progress of something.”
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