“Witnesses?” scowled Karaza. “What witnesses? There was no one in the room except the accused and the victim. Are these elders such fools that they will let assassins go free?”
“No, no, no,” Malid shook his head. “Volox just likes to act as if he is important some times. I will bring the royal guards in and let them answer questions. Then Volox will have nothing to complain about. It is only a short delay. What can it matter?”
“I wonder,” pondered Karaza. “I think Volox is up to something. Can you restart the meeting without him? Does he even need to be involved?”
“I said that we would restart promptly in an hour,” answered Malid. “Any member who is not there will not be missed by me. What are you planning? Or don’t I want to know?”
“I was merely wondering if Volox didn’t show if your meeting would go easier,” shrugged Karaza. “I do not know how meetings of the elders are run. If you will excuse me, I think I will go for a stroll. I will be back in an hour to wait for the verdict.”
Karaza left the office and proceeded out of the building. He looked around and saw a group of elders walking through the plaza. He hurried to catch up to see if Volox was one of them. When he got close enough to identify the individual elders, he saw that Volox was not among them. He turned and scanned the area in all directions. Finally, he saw another smaller group of men leaving the building that he had just come from. He backtracked casually and smiled inwardly when he saw Volox walking with three other elders. He started to follow them at a distance.
The small group went into a bakery. Karaza stayed in the park across the street, leaning against a tree. He waited patiently for the elders to buy whatever it was that they had entered the bakery for. He waited almost fifteen minutes for the elders to reappear. The four men crossed the street and headed for the park. Karaza moved slowly around the tree so that he could observe them without being seen.
Volox and the other three elders entered the park and sat on the rim of a large fountain in the center of the park. The men ate bread and talked casually. Volox tried to turn the conversation to the current matter before the Council, but the other elders did not want to discuss it. Some of them tossed small pieces of fresh bread to the birds, while they talked about their families.
After half an hour of sitting by the fountain, the group rose. They started to walk out of the park, but Volox managed to get one of the elders to sit on a bench with him and discuss the attack of the queen. The other two elders continued on their way. Volox did not go into a lot of detail about the case, but he tried to present the need to be very careful when dealing out such harsh sentences. The other elder seemed to agree, but he soon rose and left the park.
Karaza smiled inwardly as he recognized the chance he had been waiting for. He moved closer to Volox, keeping himself hidden from view. When he was close enough to accomplish his goal, Karaza cast a spell of sleep upon Volox. Karaza snickered softly as he congratulated himself on solving the problem of the persnickety elder. The snicker quickly turned into a frown as Volox yawned and threw the last of his bread to the birds.
Karaza’s brow creased in confusion. He cast the spell again, but Volox did not seem to be affected. Volox appeared ready to leave and Karaza started to get desperate. He had only wanted to delay the elder, but now he was willing to hurt him to delay him. Karaza aimed a force bolt at the legs of the bench that Volox was sitting on. He figured that the bench would collapse and the elder might be knocked unconscious. Even if he was not knocked out, Karaza could put him to sleep when he offered to heal him.
The force bolt ran true, streaming towards the legs of the bench. Karaza watched the air part as the transparent burst of energy ripped through the air. Suddenly, it dissipated. That was when Karaza realized that Volox was shielded. His eyes darted around the park, looking for the mage that was protecting the elder. He could see no one. Karaza’s lips curled in disgust as Volox rose from the bench.
Karaza tried to gauge the size of the shield around the elder. He contemplated what he would construct if he were trying to protect someone. After a moment, he smiled to himself. He gazed up at the trees and calculated the elder’s path. Timing the casting perfectly, Karaza sent a force bolt streaming into the trees. It severed a large limb, which started falling towards the ground. Volox looked up in horror at the loud cracking noise. He saw the large limb falling down, but there was no time to move.
Unexpectedly, the limb broke in half several feet above the elder. The two halves each fell to different sides of the elder. Volox sighed with relief and started walking again. As the elder approached the building where the Council of Elders met, Karaza was fuming. Throwing caution to the wind, Karaza’s arms rose over his head. Suddenly, the sky sparked with lightning. A huge bolt slammed downward at the elder. Thunder rolled across the sky, and citizens screamed as they saw the lightning strike Volox. A blinding flash obscured the image of Volox.
Seconds later, they saw the elder looking up at the sky in wonder. He shook his head and shrugged as he entered the building. Karaza cursed under his breath as his eyes still searched for the hidden mage who had dared to cross his path. He couldn’t think of any mage that was powerful enough to protect against such a powerful lightning bolt.
Karaza left his hiding spot and moved towards the building, his mind still processing the list of mages who might defy him. When he reached the door to the building, only one name remained on the list. He turned around abruptly and searched the area for his old nemesis, Garl, but the old man was not to be found. Karaza hissed as he opened the door and stepped into the building.
Chapter 27
Gamara
Mistake sighed in frustration and sank to the floor. She put her back to the door and stared into space.
“What is the matter?” asked MistyTrail. “I have never seen you fail to pick a lock before. Is your tool broken?”
“There is nothing wrong with my tool,” grumbled Mistake. “This lock is magically protected. There is no way that I will ever be able to pick it.”
“Then we need another plan,” shrugged MistyTrail. “They will have to open that door some time. We need to figure out what we are going to do when that happens.”
Mistake rose and crossed the room. She bounced down on the bed next to MistyTrail and sighed again.
“It will likely be Karaza that opens the door,” Mistake said. “He will be well shielded. Just what do you think we can do?”
“We still have our knives,” MistyTrail pointed out. “Maybe his shields will not offer him physical protection?”
“So we kill him with knives and then run for the exit of the prison in the middle of Morada?” Mistake asked sarcastically. “I am sure that will work just fine.”
“This is not like you,” frowned MistyTrail. “You never give up. You never stopped searching for me until you found me. We will find a way out. Let’s think about it.”
“I am not sure exactly how much trouble we are in,” replied Mistake. “We might be in very serious trouble, or it is possible that someone will figure out that we didn’t really mean to hurt the queen. It would be great if we could sneak out of here, but killing a guard or Karaza will certainly mean trouble. If we must kill someone, we have to be positive that we can complete our escape, or we will just make things worse.”
* * *
The squad of elven soldiers marched through the city of Morada. In the center of the mass of brown uniforms was a hooded prisoner with his hands bound together and a large pack upon his back. The citizens turned and watched the small procession go by, wondering who was being taken to prison and what offense he might have committed. While such an escort was not a normal sight in Morada, it only held the citizens’ attention briefly before they returned to gossiping about the return of the lost princesses.
The squad of soldiers marched briskly in formation. Only the most astute observer would notice that the prisoner was keeping cadence, and even then it would be assumed that the prisoner was a soldier turned bad.
/> The column approached the prison and halted outside the door. The officer leading the column stepped forward to address the four sentries standing guard at the door of the prison.
“Tamar,” greeted one of the sentries, “it is not often that we see you here. You must bring a most dangerous one for us today.”
“Indeed we do,” Tamar said seriously. “We have a rogue mage that has already killed a number of my fellow soldiers.”
“Well,” replied the sentry, “we will make sure that he is housed in the mage wing.”
“No,” retorted Tamar, “I will make sure that he is housed in the mage wing. No offense to you or your men, but I am personally responsible for this criminal. I will not relinquish control of this fiend until I personally see him put in his cell. My men will accompany me.”
While the deviation from normal procedures raised a few eyebrows, none of the sentries were bold enough to deny the high-ranking officer his request. Two of the sentries opened the doors to the prison and held them while Tamar marched his men into the building.
Tamar had been to the prison on many occasions and knew the way to the mage wing. There were numerous guards within the corridors and the cell areas. They all knew Tamar by sight and many of them greeted him as he passed by. When they reached the mage wing, the two soldiers on guard duty looked questioningly at the approaching column of soldiers. Tamar called his column to a halt as the two guards approached.
“What have we here?” asked one of the guards.
“A most dangerous villain,” replied Tamar. “Which of the cells are currently occupied?”
“We have many empty mage cells,” replied the guard. “We will find a nice one for him.”
“He does not merit a nice cell,” retorted Tamar with a hint of distaste for the prisoner. “I asked which cells were occupied. I will choose the cell that this prisoner occupies.”
The guards’ faces creased with confusion. All of the mage cells were the same. One guard shrugged his indifference while the other pointed to the girls’ cell. Tamar walked past the two guards, causing them to turn around to see what he was doing. When Tamar suddenly halted and turned around again to face the two guards, he had a broad smile on his lips.
“I am sorry to cause you this inconvenience,” Tamar shrugged, “but I am sure in time you will come to understand the necessity of it. I need two cells opened, the one that is occupied, and another. Hand me the keys, please.”
By captivating the attention of the guards, Tamar had allowed his men to be placed behind them. Knives suddenly appeared at the throats of the two guards. One of the guards extended his arm slowly towards Tamar. In his hand was a ring with two keys. Tamar took the ring of keys.
“There are only two keys,” the guard said anxiously, “one for the mage cells, and one for the other cells. The larger one is for the mage cells. Why are you doing this?”
“Because Alahara and Alastasia do not belong in cells,” Tamar stated as he unlocked an empty cell. “You will not be harmed unless you try to stop us. Get in the cell.”
The knives at the throats of the guards were removed and the guards slowly stepped into the cell. One of the guards turned towards Tamar after he entered.
“Who are Alahara and Alastasia?” he asked. “Our only prisoners are the foreign girls.”
“They are the lost princesses,” declared Tamar as he closed the door and locked it.
Tamar walked to the door of the girls’ cell and inserted the key. He waved to his men to hug the wall before he turned the key and unlocked the door. Then he backed away from the door and waited.
Inside the cell, Mistake and MistyTrail became instantly alert when they heard the key in the lock. Mistake dashed for one side of the doorway while MistyTrail dashed to the other. The princesses waited for the door to open. Several long seconds passed and nothing happened. Mistake frowned at MistyTrail. MistyTrail shook her head and shrugged. More seconds slowly expired and still nothing happened.
Slowly, Mistake’s hand rose to the door. She pulled slightly on it and felt it move. She froze and waved for MistyTrail to get behind her. MistyTrail crept past the doorway and crouched behind Mistake.
“I am going to open it,” Mistake whispered. “Be ready to move when I do.”
MistyTrail nodded, but Mistake did not see her. She was already tensing to throw the door open. In a burst of speed, Mistake threw the door open and dove into the corridor. She rolled across the floor and came up in a crouch with a knife in each hand. MistyTrail swiftly moved to occupy the doorframe. She also held a knife in each hand. Tamar stood against the wall. He was grinning broadly.
“Tamar?” gasped Mistake. “Why are you here?”
“To rescue the princesses,” he grinned. “Let’s get back inside the cell. You have to change clothes.”
Mistake looked past Tamar at the squad of soldiers lined up along the wall. Tamar saw the concern in her gaze.
“These men are loyal to me,” Tamar said as he waved the prisoner forward.
The prisoner’s hood had already been removed and his hands untied. Without the hood and bindings, he looked like any other soldier. He unslung the large pack on his back and handed it to Tamar. Tamar handed it to Mistake.
“Put these uniforms on and hurry,” ordered Tamar. “We have already been in here too long for my liking. Put your own packs into the big one. We will straighten it all out after we are outside the city.”
Mistake dashed into the room. She dared not close the door, but Tamar stood in the doorway with his back to the girls. They swiftly changed their clothes and stuffed their packs into the large pack.
“We are ready,” Mistake said as she and MistyTrail exited the room and handed the pack to Tamar.
“Good,” Tamar replied as he signaled for his men to form two columns. “I hope you have some ability for marching in formation. I like my columns to look sharp. Get in the middle of the columns.”
The girls ran and inserted themselves into the columns. Tamar closed the door to their cell and marched to the front of the columns. He nodded to his men and the columns marched for the exit. They passed through the regular cellblock and the corridors leading to it. They reached the exit from the prison and two guards held the doors for them. As the column marched out of the prison, one of the guards called out to Tamar.
“Why are you taking his pack out with you?” asked the guard.
Tamar separated from the column as he signaled for them to continue marching.
“I considered it too dangerous to leave with him,” Tamar replied to the guard.
Another guard tapped the first guard’s arm and pointed at the column leaving the prison grounds.
“There were only ten plus a prisoner and the officer when they entered,” he said excitedly. “Now there are fourteen of them.”
The four guards tensed and drew their swords. Tamar shouted to his men as he turned and ran for his life. A whistle blew somewhere behind Tamar, and he knew that word would spread quickly. Soon the streets of Morada would be filled with soldiers searching for the treasonous column of soldiers. He looked over his shoulder and saw that his pursuers were not as physically fit as he was. Already their mouths were open, gasping for air, while Tamar felt as if the race had not yet begun. He caught up to his column of men and shouted terse orders.
The two columns immediately split up, each going in a different direction. Tamar continued to run straight ahead and dashed into an alleyway. He paused for a moment to catch his breath and see what his pursuers would do. The four guards stopped and gazed in both directions. One of the guards took command of the others. He started shouting orders and pointing. Tamar frowned at the shouted orders. While the prison guards were out of shape, they were not dim-witted. Instead of following either of the two columns, they were alerting the city guard. Within minutes the city would be shut down. Tamar knew he had to move quickly. He turned and ran for the rendezvous point.
The city of Morada was not a walled city. Lush forests
surrounded it with well-worn paths leading to the outlying villages. At the edge of the city was a very old wooden house. The sole occupant of the house was an ancient woman who had no eyeballs, a result of magic gone awry. She lived in solitude, never wandering out except to harvest her garden. If she had any neighbors, they would have thought it strange to see a dozen soldiers open the door and file into her house.
The blind woman heard the door open and listened intently to the sounds of footsteps crossing her threshold. She walked into the kitchen and took a spare mug off the shelf. She moved with precision steps in the small kitchen and took a pot of boiling tea off the fire. She carried the pot and the cup into the main room of the small house and set it on the table.
“I only have one spare cup for the tea,” the old woman said. “I am afraid that you will have to share.”
Another set of footsteps crossed the room after closing the door. He smiled at the old woman even though it was obvious that she could not see him.
“Thank you, Gamara,” said Tamar. “I am sorry that we had to intrude like this on your solitude, but I am grateful that you have allowed us to.”
“Are they among you?” asked Gamara.
“They are,” replied Tamar as he took Mistake and MistyTrail by the arms and led them towards the old woman. “I do not know which is which,” he added as he took the old woman’s hands and placed them on the shoulders of Mistake and MistyTrail, “but Alahara and Alastasia stand before you.”
“Kaltara bless you both,” smiled the old woman as her hands ran up the faces of the girls, memorizing their features. “Twins they are. I can feel it.”
“Has Garl arrived?” asked Tamar.
“Not yet,” replied Gamara. “He will be by soon. He always keeps his word.”
“You are Garl’s sister?” asked MistyTrail. “He mentioned you to us when we lived with him in the village.”
“That I am,” nodded Gamara. “And he told me of you two when he visited the city to search the royal vaults. I am so thrilled that you have returned. I just wish that Avalar was alive to see it.”
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