As they made their way toward The Oasis, they passed a few people with hooded faces, who, once they saw the warriors, averted their gazes, and moved hastily away. Jonas saw an occasional Free Legion patrol, but otherwise the streets were empty. He still felt the slight warning, the presence of evil, and he remained constantly alert. He had learned at Annure, when they had been attacked by assassins who had served Nazreen, that he could not detect all dangers, and that some attacks could elude him. He could only truly detect something of pure evil. Men who had not fully crossed over into the service of darkness, but still had an evil purpose, such as thieves, or other brigands, might not be detected. Detecting evil was not an exact science, as the nature of evil is not always so black and white. So he had to be vigilant, as he knew the others were.
They turned, moving down a dark alley, the guards holding forth their torches as they peered into the darkness for any possible threats. The alley was lined with tall stone walls and as they neared the end of it they could clearly see two large braziers burning, casting an orange glow over a single metal door. The narrow alley was a dead end and with its tall walls, was an ideal location for an ambush. Jonas didn’t like it, and he was constantly scanning the roof tops and walls for any concealed attackers.
“We are probably safe here, although it doesn’t feel like it,” the general said, trying to reassure them, seeing the group’s worried expressions and their hands gripping their weapons.
“Why do you say that?” the king asked, obviously uneasy.
“Mr. Embley’s guards are concealed in secret locations along these walls. If you look closely you can see the arrow slits,” the general said, indicating a few of the locations.
Sure enough, at closer inspection, Jonas could make out cross patterns every three paces or so. He couldn’t see anything beyond the slits but he took the general’s word in the matter and assumed that someone was there, lurking in the darkness, probably holding a loaded crossbow as they spoke.
“At any sign of trouble, his guards can rush from that metal door and fire arrows all along the corridor if need be. In normal times these defenses were just designed to keep out ruffians and to protect his patrons from thieves hoping to steal the winnings from an unsuspecting client. But now his security has been expanded, as there are now darker things about than just common thieves.”
When they reached the door General Kurraris knocked on it with his large fist. The sound echoed in the confines of the corridor and seconds later a small metal window slid open at eye level. Jonas could not see inside the opening, only an orange and reddish light behind a pair of dark beady eyes.
“Who wishes to enter?” demanded a deep voice.
“General Kurraris, and guests to see Mr. Embley.”
“Very good, General,” the voice responded quickly.
Instantly, several bolts and latches were withdrawn and the heavy steel door swung open on silent hinges. Standing before them was a huge man wearing black leather armor with matching leather breeches. Flanking him were two more men, equally as large, outfitted similarly. Each one carried a giant two handed sword strapped to their backs.
The guard stepped to the side and motioned for them to enter. Everyone, excluding the Free Legion escorts who had remained in the alley for the general’s return, fanned out into the anteroom, taking in their surroundings with military precision. The room was large and made of stone, but the wall in front of them was covered with a thick crimson cloth. Two large braziers illuminated the room and Jonas could now clearly see the three guards.
They were not men at all, but half-orcs. Jonas had never seen a half-orc before, but their heritage was obvious. A mane of thick dark hair extended all the way down to the top of their broad backs. But it was trimmed and nicely kept, framing, basically, a human face. But they were larger, with a more animal-like appearance, Jonas thought, trying to think of a better description. But that was it. They were basically big humans with a wild look to them. Their bony foreheads were dominated by thick and pronounced brow ridges, beneath which peered dark beady eyes that appeared small in comparison to their large heads. Their noses were human-like, but with wider nostrils. Their mouths, however, were much larger than those of their human counterparts, and their animal-like canines could be seen when they spoke, though their teeth were much smaller than their orc cousins, which enabled them to pronounce words more clearly. Their bodies were tall and thick, covered with coarse black hair and dense muscle. Each half-orc was about as tall as Kromm, nearly a full head taller than a large man.
The guard shut the heavy door behind them, engaging the locks while a second guard addressed them. They could be triplets, thought Jonas; all three looked so much alike.
“General, you are always most welcome here,” the half-orc said in a slow baritone voice, turning his gaze to the rest of the companions. “May I have the names of your companions so I may inform Mr. Embley?”
It was strange, but the guards were very polite and well spoken, which seemed in contrast to their heritage and size. Jonas did not detect any evil in them, so their hearts were obviously not corrupted by their orc blood.
The king stepped toward the large guard before General Kurraris could respond. “My name is King Kromm of Tarsis and I wish to see Mr. Embley,” he said. “I am in the company of Jonas, cavalier to Shyann, Allindrian, Blade Singer to the elves, Durgen, Master Trader from Dwarf Mount, and these warriors from Finarth and Tarsis. I believe we warrant a meeting, so will you please escort me to see Mr. Embley?”
Jonas saw the guard’s eyes light up momentarily at the mention of their names, then reverting quickly back to his normal stoic expression.
“Very good, if you will please leave your weapons here and follow me,” he replied calmly.
Kromm smiled, but Jonas saw his fists clench impatiently. He could tell that all the formalities were driving the king crazy. He just wanted to find his wife and son, and Jonas could understand his frustration.
“We will not leave our weapons. We have been running from enemies and fighting for our lives over the last few weeks, and I will not relinquish the items that have so far kept us alive,” Kromm replied, taking a step closer to the big half-orc. The king’s eyes were intense and Jonas was afraid that he was going to strike the guard.
“I’m sorry, Sire, but no one is allowed entrance while in possession of their weapons. That is how…”
“Sir, what is your name?” Jonas interjected, stepping forward to face the guard, simultaneously laying a gentle hand on the king’s massive bicep.
“Toklish, sir,” the half-orc replied. Jonas was impressed with the guard. He did not seem fazed at all by the esteemed guests facing him. He was just doing his job and he was doing it well, and without bias.
“Toklish, I am a cavalier and you know that my weapons cannot be used to cause harm. Nor can I give them up in the chance that they might fall into the hands of the very evil that I am sworn to fight. I know you are just following the rules, but do you really think that Mr. Embley would ask the King of Tarsis, a cavalier, and a Blade Singer to disarm themselves? In fact, our presence will increase the safety of your patrons; surely you know this to be true. Let us pass, for Shyann’s mission is urgent and requires that we see Mr. Embley immediately.” Jonas finished, hoping that mentioning Shyann would encourage a quick and peaceful solution.
Toklish looked at Jonas for a moment before returning his gaze to the king. “Please forgive me, Sire. I am just trying to do my job,” he said, directing his gaze at Jonas again. “You are quite right, Cavalier. I believe that Mr. Embley would make an exception in your cases. You may enter.” The half-orc stepped aside, gesturing to the other half-orc guard standing in the corner of the room.
Jonas noticed that the other guard was holding a chain connected to some pulley system. Immediately the guard pulled the light chain and the heavy crimson curtain slowly opened, revealing a spacious hall filled with hundreds of people playing countless games. The place was spacious wit
h tall ceilings. It had the opulence of a king’s hall. Everywhere Jonas looked he saw something ornate. The walls were covered with gold tapestries lined in maroon, with the same color thread weaving beautiful designs throughout the cloth. The furniture was hand carved and every polished surface glistened in the glow of the braziers that lined the walls. Jonas could see flights of stairs on both sides of the room, constructed of hand carved ebony and leading to landings with railings of ornately crafted iron. He could just make out doors along the landings that probably led to private rooms or other game rooms. But the strangest part about the entire scene was that they couldn’t hear anything. They could clearly see hundreds of people laughing and talking but no sound came their way.
“If you will follow me,” Toklish said, walking into the gaming hall. Fil glanced back at Jonas who shrugged his shoulders and followed the guard. As soon as he stepped through the entrance into the gaming hall, a cacophony of sounds assaulted him. People were laughing and talking, with the voices of the game keepers intermixed in the din that echoed around him. There must have been a spell cast in the anteroom to keep out the noise, allowing the guards to interact with potential guests, and creating an impressive ambience. The effect was successful thought Jonas; it gave him the sense that the place was something special, something unique, which by the looks of it, it was.
The others felt it too, and they were looking about the place with eyes wide and mouths slightly agape. The place was amazing. Magical light shone from floating orbs and richly adorned furniture filled the spacious room. It was decadence at its finest. Jonas had never seen anything like it, and it was hard for him to focus on any one thing as the sights and sounds came at him from all directions. Serving women wearing low cut, tight dresses, moved about in all directions. There were several bars about; each one crowded with patrons who were eagerly vying for the attention of the scantily clad females whose job it was to keep the guests imbued with the intoxicating spirits that lined the many shelves behind them. Guards wearing the same black leather armor and black breeches with knee high boots stood at all corners of the room, watching the guests carefully. Most of the guards were human, but Jonas did catch one that might have been half-elf and one that was most definitely a dwarf.
“Sir, may I suggest that your warriors stay here and refresh themselves while I take you and your most esteemed guests to see Mr. Embley?” Toklish said smoothly.
“Very well. Dandronis, stay here with everyone. Jonas, Allindrian, General Kurraris, and Durgen, will you please accompany me,” Kromm said, eager to get on with it.
“As you wish, my King.”
“King Kromm, I be a bit parched, and would prefer a decent mug of ale,” the dwarf said bluntly, looking around the gaming house with a sparkle in his eye.
“Do as you wish, Master Durgen. Now Toklish, please take us to see your boss,” Kromm said impatiently.
“I have business to attend to, Sire, but I will leave five guards outside the establishment in case you need them. You can find me at the inner palace if you need anything else,” the general said.
Kromm nodded his thanks to the general. “Thank you, Kurraris. Your help is appreciated.” The general bowed slightly, turned, and walked towards the entrance. Kromm turned toward Toklish again. “Lead on,” he said.
Toklish motioned toward a tall dark haired woman wearing a tight black dress. Jonas had noticed her earlier as she stood nearby, casually inspecting the new arrivals. In fact, everyone had noticed them. It was not often that a large group of dirty warriors patronized the gaming house, along with a cavalier in polished sparkling armor. They were the cause of many stares and much interest. But most simply looked at them curiously, and then went back to their games and drinks.
The raven haired lady walked toward them with a slow sensual gait that was hard to ignore. Her form fitting dress was made from some thin shiny material, which revealed the shape of her breasts and the curve of her hips, assets that did not go unnoticed by anyone. She smiled broadly as Toklish introduced her.
“Ravenna, please take care of the king’s guests,” the half-orc ordered.
“My pleasure, Toklish,” she replied with a dazzling smile. “If you will follow me, I will take you someplace private where you can relax and wait for the king.” Ravenna stepped to the side, motioning for the group to follow. Jonas was amazed at how sensual just that simple movement was. He glanced at Myrell, noticing that she was staring at him with a curious expression. He smiled sheepishly as she shook her head sardonically.
“Men,” Myrell whispered under her breath, moving past Ravenna without giving her a second look.
Fil looked at Jonas with an upraised eyebrow and a mischievous smile, and then he, Dandronis, and Durgen, followed the lovely hostess through the crowd.
“Follow me please,” Toklish said to the other guests, making his way to a flight of stairs. The two guards at the base of the stairs immediately parted for the group. Kromm and the others followed Toklish up the stairs and down the hall, coming to a set of black double doors made of solid wood and lacquered to a shiny brilliance. Just as they neared the doors, they burst open and Queen Sorana ran towards Kromm.
The movement was so sudden that Toklish, more quickly than Jonas would have thought possible, leaped in front of Kromm and had a dagger in his hand before the king could get past the surprise at seeing his wife.
Toklish, quickly assessing that she was no threat, stepped briskly aside, sheathing his knife. Sorana jumped into Kromm’s outstretched arms, crying openly and kissing the big man furiously.
“My King, I knew you’d come for me,” she said sobbing. Riker, his son, came from the door as well, joining his mother and father in an emotional embrace.
“Ah, King Kromm, please come inside,” a man said, appearing in the doorway. The man was short and round, and he was wearing a ridiculous silk robe, lined in gold thread and the color of a ripe plumb. His jet black hair was slicked back tightly over his ears, but his smile was genuine as he eagerly motioned for everyone to enter. “Toklish, please stand guard.”
Everyone hurried into the room as the man introduced himself to the group.
“I am Geardon Embley. Welcome to The Oasis. I have never had the pleasure of having such esteemed guests in my humble home. I am honored,” he said with a slight bow. They all introduced themselves to the proprietor as the king and his family talked.
“How did you get away?” Kromm asked, still holding his emotional wife.
“Addalis sent us here through a dimensional door. I was so worried for you, Father,” Riker said, wiping a few tears from his eyes.
“I told you, son, it would take more than a few orcs to bring me down. Where is that crafty wizard anyway?” Kromm asked.
“Here, my Lord,” Addalis replied with a happy smile as he walked through an arched entryway in front of them.
The king moved towards him, hugging him fiercely. “My friend, it is so good to see you. Thank you. You saved them and I owe you much.”
“It is my duty, and my pleasure,” Addalis said as the king released him. “But how did you get here so quickly. We arrived just last night. You could not possibly have traveled that distance in a half day.”
“Allindrian led us through the Hallows,” the king said quietly.
“What? You traveled the Hallows Road?” asked the astonished wizard.
“We did. We lost most of our group, but Allindrian and Jonas saw us through.”
Addalis looked to Jonas for the first time. He smiled, walking toward him to shake hands. “Cavalier,” he said, gripping Jonas’s hand, “it is good to meet you. Your presence is most welcome, and greatly needed it would seem.”
“Come, everyone, let us move into a more comfortable room where we can talk and refresh ourselves,” Geardon said, leading them all through the archway that Addalis had come from.
***
Ravenna was easy to follow as it was not difficult at all to keep their eyes focused on the swaying of her hips a
s she led the way. The only one that seemed impervious to her feminine charms was Durgen, as he was spending more time staring at the gaming tables and the mugs of ale being heartily consumed all around him. Myrell had rolled her eyes in annoyance at the gawking men, and excused herself to find a wash basin and a place to clean up.
The hostess had led them to a roped off alcove along an outer wall where they were all invited to sit down on some comfortable couches. The couches, which surrounded a large low table made from black polished wood, were adorned with numerous soft velvety pillows. Candles flickered on every wall from black iron sconces, illuminating the room with a soft glow.
“I hope this is comfortable enough for you. Can I bring you all some refreshments?” Ravenna asked smoothly. Her every word, her every syllable, dripped with sensuality.
Durgen, who seemed amazingly oblivious to her beauty, spoke first. “A pitcher of yer best mead, dwarven if you have it. If not, Tarsinian Black will do.”
“Very good. And you, gentlemen?”
“Some honey mead please,” Fil said.
“A mug of wheat ale will suffice,” Dandronis ordered.
“I’ll have the same,” Kilius added.
“I will be back shortly with your drinks and a plate of smoked meats and cheeses,” she said with a sensuous smile before turning gracefully and disappearing into the throng of people.
“Wow,” was all Fil could say.
Dandronis chuckled at Fil. “This place is truly amazing; I have never seen the likes,” he said.
“Nor I,” said Fil, looking around in complete amazement of their magnificent surroundings.
“In Ulren’s name I’ve never been out of the Tundrens, let alone in a place like this,” Kilius said, equally amazed at what he saw.
“So, boy, tell me ‘bout yer friend, de cavalier,” Durgen said, seeking a comfortable place on the couch. The pillows were too big and the couch too high, making it difficult for the dwarf to find a suitable spot.
The Cavalier Trilogy: Book 02 - The Rise of Malbeck Page 28