by Wilson Harp
“Yes, are you ill? You seem sick; should I call the innkeeper?”
“No, no. I’m fine, I… I haven’t seen Alinor since the fight that drove me and Heran apart. I heard that she…” Orias almost said ‘went missing’ but he caught himself. “I heard that she had died, but I had no idea she had married nor that she had a child.” Orias now saw the bright green eyes and the delicate features of Alinor in Mirari’s face. Heran’s wavy black hair and dusky skin was his gift to Mirari, but she did have her mother’s look about her.
“The fight was over her, wasn’t it?” asked Mirari as Orias studied her.
“Yes. No. Not precisely. I told her that night to either come with me or stay with the others. She chose to stay with the others, including Heran, and I left. I cut her out of my life when I shouldn’t have. I never saw her again.”
Mirari nodded to herself. She had been cut out of her father’s life the same way. Apparently wizards were good at making decisions and holding to them. “I found four or five names in the journal, but yours was the only one known in Gen other than my father’s. I wouldn’t have come to you, but I think this is important.”
“Why did you come to me? Heran was better with codes and languages than I ever was, and he has had the journals for decades now. Why would he send you to me?”
“He didn’t send me. I haven’t been able to talk with him. I went straight to his tower when I arrived in Gen, but I was turned away.”
“Heran did not know you were coming?”
“No, he sent me the journals and told me to keep them safe. I sent a letter back and never heard word from him, so I came here myself to find out why he sent them.”
Orias hissed and wondered if the girl had any common sense about her at all. “If he told you to keep them safe, why would you bring them back here? Didn’t it occur to you that they might be in danger here?”
Her eyes tightened at his suggestion that she didn’t know what she had done. “The journals are in my possession. They are safe,” said Mirari.
Orias tugged slightly on his beard as he thought. “I will go with you to Gen if that is what you wish. Heran will likely not want to see me, but if there is trouble, perhaps I can help.”
“When can we leave?” Mirari asked.
“Immediately, unless you wish to have a meal first.”
Mirari stood and started putting the package of journals into her satchel. “I will eat when we find out what is happening.” She turned and walked out of the inn’s front door.
Orias motioned Croft over to him and dispelled the enchantment designed to prevent eavesdropping. When Croft approached the table, Orias fished out a few silver coins to pay for the wine.
“Everything fine, Orias?” asked the innkeeper.
“I don’t know, Croft. That is Heran’s daughter. She hasn’t been able to see him in Gen. Turned away from his tower, by her telling of events.”
“Heran has a daughter? I could have sworn she was Antrali by her dress and speech, but I never expected her to be Heran’s daughter.”
“She is half Antrali. That part she got from Heran. The fine features and green eyes are from her missing mother.”
“Her mother went missing? Who was her mother?”
“The wizardess Alinor.”
“I remember that name. She was powerful and then… nothing. Nobody heard from her just like that.” He snapped his fingers. ”I was just starting adventuring at that time. I always wondered what happened to her.”
“She died not far from here,” Orias muttered. He had that look of someone haunted by a memory.
Croft cleared his throat and slipped the coins into his pocket. “Are you alright, Orias? Is there anything I can do for you?”
Orias realized he had been staring at the door for a few seconds. He shook his head. “No. Thank you Croft, but I don’t think there is anything you can do.”
The wizard stood and walked to the front door of the inn while Croft watched. Orias turned back to the innkeeper. “If I don’t send word within a week, find Medrick and have him fetch me from Heran’s tower. Have him bring his friends and make sure they are armed. If Medrick doesn’t return, send Donal when he can be reached.”
By the time Orias reached the inn’s stable, Mirari was already mounted on her horse and waiting for him. She watched him carefully, as if not sure she should be going with him. Orias saddled his black gelding, and they started down the high road to Gen.
“You obviously knew both of my parents, Orias. Did you spend a lot of time with them?” Mirari asked as they settled into the rhythm of riding.
“Have you ever heard of the Mage Jelcir?”
“No, I haven’t.”
“I guess Antralis is a long way from here indeed. Or maybe it’s just been too many years. Jelcir was the Master of eight wizards of note. I was one of them, and your parents were two others. Most wizards take on apprentices and students slowly, having maybe one or two at any given time and training them over a period of five or six years each.
“Jelcir didn’t have the time. He had been prophesied to die on a certain day when he would be fifty years of age. He was a young wizard at the time the prophesy was conveyed to him, and for several years he ignored it. But when he was forty, he saved a Seer up in Padash. She was a holy woman who could call on the Divine to heal any injury. It was even rumored that her prayers could convince the Divine to return life to a dead man. When he rescued her, she looked at him and said ‘You are a great man, and you will be greater still. But you need to prepare yourself for the harvest moon in ten years. Make sure your knowledge is passed on.’
“Jelcir went to the moon charts and looked for the harvest moon. It was at its fullest on the day he had been told he would die. He returned to Loramund and started recruiting apprentices. There were eight of us eager to learn the arcane arts. He pushed us hard and made us learn quickly. When we asked why, he would only say that he didn’t have enough time to teach us everything. Eventually we learned the story of his impatience, and we pushed ourselves and each other as hard as we could. Jelcir was an amazing wizard; he was constantly finding new ways to combine enchantments, arcane scrying, elemental controls, and conjurations. He was brilliant.”
Mirari was leaning towards him in her saddle. “What happened?” she asked.
Orias laughed and shook his head. “On the night of his prophesied death, he held a great feast. We ate and laughed and talked into the night. When the moon was shining through the window of the feast room, he made a toast to his students and we toasted his life. He drank the wine in his cup and dropped dead to the floor. His heart just stopped. There was nothing we could do. He died at the exact moment he was expecting. But he met his goal. He knew exactly how long he would have and what he wanted to do. We should all be so fortunate.”
Orias was still for a few minutes before Mirari spoke. “That was quite a story. I can see how his pupils would be driven to match his worth.”
“Yes, there was quite a bit we did, especially in the early years. We made a pact that we would serve the causes of justice and truth. We were all young and full of hope. But that fades as you grow older, at least for some. Eventually for all, I suppose.”
“So justice and truth are not what you strive for?”
Orias looked over at the young woman, his brow furrowed and eyes sad. “I guess I was just swept up in Jelcir’s ideals, but that was never who I was. I was the first to walk away from them. The only one to walk away. The Outcast Raven as it were.”
“The Outcast Raven?”
“Yes, that’s how they probably thought of me. The “Council of Ravens” is how they referred to themselves after I was gone. Seven mighty wizards who served King Grallus as councilors and court attendants. They were the most famous group of adventurers for six years before Kelsper died on a mission for the king. Then Celia was captured and killed two years later in the lands of Padash. When King Grallus died, his son Patrus charged the remaining Ravens with conspiring against
the throne. They went their separate ways and set up their own lives. I assume that they stayed in touch over the years, although I’m not sure of that. The only one to contact me was Hereth, and that was just a few times. He was found dead two years ago in his tower. Such a powerful wizard, but it looks like he was assassinated. Odd, that. Hereth didn’t have an enemy that I ever heard of; he even reached out to the outcast. I guess that leaves three now.”
“When did you hear of my mother’s death?”
“I didn’t, not officially. Alinor just stopped being heard from. I guess I assumed that she just moved away from the region and never made enough noise where she had settled for me to hear about.”
Mirari glared at Orias. “That’s not true, wizard. If you thought my mother was missing, you would have said ‘that leaves four now’ not three. You know she is dead. How?”
“You told me earlier today that she died when you were a child.”
“And you didn’t question that news or act surprised. You were surprised that she was married and surprised that she had a child, but her death was already known to you.” Mirari watched him through narrow eyes as if she were ready to spring from her horse at him if he said the wrong thing or made the wrong move. “You knew she was dead before I showed you her journals. If you were as close as you say you were, you would have recognized her device that is embossed on each.”
Orias stared back at Mirari. “You pick up quite a bit of detail for someone so young. Where did you learn how to observe like that? You have been trained. That’s why you believe the journals are safe with you. Who trained you?”
“We will discuss this later, wizard, after we have found my father.”
They rode the next several hours in silence, neither letting the other out of their sight. As they neared the city, more travelers began sharing their road until Mirari and Orias both relaxed, being around so many potential witnesses.
The gates of Gen were large and iron bound, built to stop besieging armies more than stop cutpurses from entering or leaving. Orias had traveled enough to know that Gen and even Loramund further to the east were small in comparison to Antralis. Even so, the city bustled with thousands of people.
Dozens of inns and taverns lined the streets just inside the gates, but Mirari kept riding until they had passed the fountain in front of the citadel. The Wandering Orchid was a prestigious inn, centuries old and still attracting the finest clientele. As they rode into the small courtyard in front of the inn, stable boys were on hand to take their horses. Orias and Mirari dismounted and walked into the receiving room of the Wandering Orchid.
Mirari handed her satchel to Orias and motioned him to one of the cushioned chairs. “I will only be a minute. I would like to change into more appropriate attire before we head to the tower.”
“You look fine now.”
“If there is danger ahead, I would prefer not to be in a dress. Now sit, and I will be back in a few minutes.”
Orias nodded and sat in the comfortable chair. It had been years since he had ridden for hours at a time, and he was positive his body would be sore the next day. He thought about the expense of the inn he was sitting in and decided that he would treat himself to a room that night once they had resolved the situation with Heran. It had been over ten years since he had slept in a bed that was not his own.
A sound of something large crashing to the floor came from the stairs where Mirari had just ascended. Orias was already on his feet when he heard the scream of a man in agony. He raced to the stairs passing several servants in the inn’s green livery. Orias reached the top of the stairs and heard footsteps coming up behind him. A large man in a green shirt was running up the stairs behind him. Orias recognized him as a guard for the inn and turned his attention back to the passageway before him. The sounds of the disturbance had quieted to nothing as Orias tried to determine from where the sounds had emanated. The second door on the right was open, and Orias could hear some movement as he drew near. He prepared a spell that would bind a person and turned into the open room.
Mirari was standing in a scene of carnage. The room was wrecked. It appeared that every piece of her personal belongings was strewn haphazardly around the rather spacious room. A large wardrobe lay on its side, and two men lay still in the middle of the floor. A growing pool of blood seeped out from under them. One had been slashed across the throat, and the other lay face down hiding his wounds. Mirari shook her head as she looked around the room. “What a mess,” she muttered.
“What happened?” asked Orias.
The inn’s guard had come up from behind the wizard and stood at Orias’ side.
“Is this how you guard the rooms of your guests?” she asked the man. “Go get the innkeeper and have some maids put my things away. I will know if anything is missing, so their hands better stay clear of their pockets. And I don’t want this blood stained rug in here when I return.”
“Yes mistress, I will go see to it,” the guard said.
Orias watched as the man left. “Tell me what happened, Mirari.”
“It should be obvious to anybody, Orias. These men were rummaging through my things when I came in. I caught them in the act, and they killed me. Then they escaped out the window and poor Mirari was killed in a robbery that she interrupted,” she said as she started examining the bodies of the men.
“Assassins.”
“And not very good ones at that. Although they do seem to be organized.” She threw something small to Orias. It was a bracelet of woven leather strips with a copper coin fitted inside.
“The cult of Cathos.” Orias muttered.
“Cult? That would explain why they weren’t as well trained as… they should have been. I take it from your expression that this is not what you expected.”
“The cult was destroyed twenty-five years ago. That was the hope. I think we need to be prepared when we go to Heran’s tower.”
“I agree. Let me change, and I will be down in a few minutes.”
“I will go put the satchel into your saddlebags in the stable and wait for you there.”
Mirari looked at her satchel slung over Orias’ shoulder. “Yes, that might be a good idea.”
Orias headed down to the stables to wait for Mirari. He thought about the precision of the cut across one of the assassins’ throat. It had to have been a fine blade with a sure hand to make that slice, and yet he had not seen a knife in her hand. He hadn’t noticed her carrying any weapons at all since he had met her. That was curious.
When Mirari finally came into the stable, she had changed outfits. Her billowy dress had been changed to a tight outfit made mostly of leather and brocades. It was still feminine, but clearly easier to move around in. Orias motioned her over to him and cast some enchantments on them both.
Heran’s tower was along the city wall not far from the inn. Orias and Mirari knew they might be watched, so there was no use in stealth or subterfuge. They walked down the main streets until they reached the main door of the tower.
Orias quickly scanned the exterior of the tower. It was four levels tall, and all the windows were barred and had enchantments that his years of experience could detect even at this distance.
“What happened when you asked to see your father before?”
“A man answered the door and told me that my father was in the middle of an experiment, and he would not let me disturb him.”
“Did you tell him you were Heran’s daughter?”
“Yes, I thought that might gain me admittance until my father was done with his work, but he told me he would fetch me from my inn when my father was done.”
Orias sighed. “That’s how they knew where you were staying.”
“Yes, I suppose I gave too much information.”
“When we speak to the man this time, I will ask him to fetch Medrick. Medrick is the name of my apprentice back in Black Oak. If he doesn’t know who Medrick is, then the man probably works for your father. If he says that Medrick is unavailable, then
we know the man at the door is an intruder in the tower.”
“Clever wizard, we make him condemn himself,” said Mirari with a slight smile. She knocked on the heavy wooden door. Several minutes passed before they heard the locks being opened. The door was pulled in allowing just enough space for a short thin man to come into view.
“I’m sorry, miss. As I told you a couple of days ago, Master Heran is in the middle of an experiment and cannot be disturbed.”
Orias stepped up behind Mirari and cleared his throat. “I am the wizard Orias, and this is Mirari ib’Lutrah, your master’s daughter. We demand to see him or his apprentice, Medrick.”
“Both Master Heran and Medrick are busy with the experiment, good day,” said the man as he attempted to shut the door.
Mirari kicked the door to keep it from closing as Orias cast a spell that would hold the man in place. The man hissed as the magic struck him and pulled a short blade. He lunged at Orias, driving the blade forward. Orias was shocked that his magic seemed to melt away as it reached the man, and barely had the presence of mind to dodge away from the blade.
Mirari grabbed the man’s outstretched arm and twisted herself behind him. The maneuver threw him onto the floor inside the entryway. He rolled backwards as he hit and spun to face her. She was low to the ground with a dagger in each hand as Orias rushed forward and cast another spell, this one to encase the man in ice. Once again the magic melted away as it touched him. Mirari and the man had locked eyes sizing each other up when Orias heard the twang of crossbows being loosed from above. The enchantments that he had placed around himself worked as several bolts bounced off the magical barrier. He looked up to see four ambushers reloading their weapons. Lightning flew from his fingers, striking each enemy.
A sound of movement brought him back to the action in front of him as he saw Mirari slide under the man’s blade as she maneuvered to get behind him. He was fast as a cat, though, and was able to tumble away from her before she could stick her blades in him. After several seconds, the man bolted from the room though a set of curtains. Mirari gave chase, leaving the wizard in the entryway alone.