The Stewards of Reed, Volume 2: The Dungeons of Cetahl

by RM Wark

  “But such hopes were not to be. Soren refused to help. He claimed that Seth was an impostor, and he denied knowing him or anything about the Komanites.”

  “No!” Jezebel exclaimed in disbelief.

  “Aye. Soren’s jealousy and greed were so great that he denied knowing his own flesh and blood, his identical twin. He denied knowing their father. He ordered Seth to leave and threatened to kill him should he ever return. That is a Reedite for you.

  “But through the centuries the Komanites have persisted in spite of the hardships.” Pride swelled in Zahara’s voice. “We never turn our backs on anyone. We welcome all. We learn much from one another. We survive. And we occasionally raid the Village of Reed, but it is because that land – that food – is rightfully ours, too. The greedy Reedites may choose to forget that the Komanites have a shared history, but we do not.”

  Jezebel listened in stunned silence. “But how do you know that is what really happened, Mother?” she finally asked.

  “I know because your father told me.”

  Jezebel frowned. “But how would he know? It happened so long ago.”

  Zahara patted her daughter on the knee. “Because that is his gift, sweet Jezebel. Just like every Komanite Minister who came after Seth, your father remembers everything. He remembers those events as though he were Seth himself, standing in Seth’s shoes. He remembers everything that every Komanite Minister has had to endure through the ages – the face of every man, woman, and child who needlessly starved to death; the tortured faces of the loved ones left behind. He remembers everything, Jezebel. Everything.”

  *************

  Her heart skipped a beat as she watched her beloved walk up the mountain path. It had been months since Lady Delia had seen Lord Milton.

  “I missed you,” she said, pulling him into her arms.

  “And I missed you.”

  After kissing their hellos, the two wizards began their usual walk through the mountain garden.

  “You have been to Reed?”

  “Aye.”

  “Did it work? Your memory spell?” Lady Delia’s voice was filled with excited curiosity.

  Lord Milton frowned. “In part.”

  Lady Delia raised an eyebrow at Lord Milton. “What do you mean?”

  “I was successful with the Reedites. Their memories of what happened to Seth and the origin of the Komanites are gone, and so it shall remain for as long as I live.”

  “And the others? The Komanites?” Lady Delia pressed.

  Lord Milton stopped and stared at the wind chime with the starcrest stone hanging from their favorite tree in the garden. The discordant high note echoed through the air.

  “It did not go as planned,” he said with a sigh.

  “What happened?”

  “I honestly do not know,” he replied. “The spell worked on the Reedites, and their numbers were ten times that of the Komanites. It should have worked on the Komanites, too.”

  “Do you know for certain that the spell did not work?”

  Lord Milton nodded his head. “Aye.”

  He turned towards Lady Delia and kissed her softly.

  “But fear not, my love. I was able to … persuade … the Komanites to travel south to Quintara. Perhaps they shall remain there. Quintara is quite beautiful, after all.”

  The expression on Lady Delia’s face made clear she did not agree. “I shall always prefer my purple mountain to the jungle.”

  Lord Milton laughed. “That is only because you have never lived in the city,” he said. “If you ever tasted life in Bartow, you would leave this mountain forever.”

  Lady Delia could only shake her head and smile. “Come, it is getting late.”

  They walked down the mountain path, back towards the castle of white. For a while they said nothing.

  “What if the Komanites return?” Lady Delia asked, voicing her thoughts aloud.

  “I shall do my best to keep an eye on things. But there is only so much meddling one wizard can stand. At some point we must leave things up to fate.”

  “Aye. I suppose you are right,” replied Lady Delia. “Thank you … for all that you have done.”

  “Is your father home?” Lord Milton asked, changing the subject.

  “No, he is not.”

  The wizards exchanged playful smiles and hurried towards the castle.

  *************

  His father was the first to arrive in Zeke’s room upon hearing the Steward’s news that the boy had regained consciousness. He quickly embraced his son and seemed reluctant to let go.

  “I am all right, Father,” Zeke assured him.

  Tobias stood up and smiled as he squeezed his son’s shoulder. There was a knock at the door, and Elder Catherine entered. Tobias nodded at her and stepped back from his son.

  “How are you feeling, Ezekiel?”

  Zeke frowned. He never liked being called by his full name, but he had not had any luck convincing any of the Elders to call him “Zeke.” At least the Steward calls me by my proper name.

  “I am fine, Elder Catherine.”

  She felt his head and checked the whites of his eyes. She looked down his throat. She asked him several questions to test his comprehension and gave him a few basic commands to test his coordination and strength. She seemed satisfied with his responses but did not say as much aloud.

  The dog with white fur remained in the bed beside Zeke during the entire evaluation, occasionally cocking its head as Elder Catherine spoke.

  “Are you hungry?” Elder Catherine asked.

  Zeke shrugged. “Not particularly.” In truth he felt very weak and slightly nauseous.

  “It is important that you eat something. I shall have Beatrice bring you some broth. I want you to eat slowly, Ezekiel. You have been in a delirious state – sick with fever – for quite some time. It shall take time for your body to heal. Take it slowly, Ezekiel. Please.” She stressed the last word and offered a small smile before leaving Zeke alone with his father and the dog.

  The white dog nudged its nose under Zeke’s arm, making it clear it wanted to be petted. Zeke happily obliged.

  “Father?” Zeke asked.

  “Aye?”

  “Where did this dog come from?” Zeke slid his hand down the dog’s back and stroked it repeatedly.

  Tobias was clearly uncomfortable with the question. “Er … did Steward Isaiah not tell you son?”

  “Tell me what?”

  Before Tobias could answer, Steward Isaiah entered the room.

  “That dog is Holley, Zeke,” the Steward said.

  Using his cane, he slowly walked across the room to the chair beside Zeke’s bed.

  “You brought her back to life, my son,” he said, sitting down. “I have never seen anything like it. To my knowledge, none of the healers who came before you ever accomplished such a feat.”

  Steward Isaiah turned his attention from Zeke to the dog.

  “But it seems to come at quite a cost,” he added.

  “She is white now,” observed Zeke, watching as his hand mindlessly stroked the dog’s back.

  “You nearly died,” replied Steward Isaiah, his voice grave.

  Zeke looked up at the Steward but did not say anything.

  “Hammond reminded me that after you healed him from the puma attack, he could not wake you for several hours. Saving Holley – bringing her back to life – left you bedridden with fever for nearly two weeks.”

  Steward Isaiah stared intently at Zeke.

  “You must be very careful with this gift, my son. Promise me that you shall only use your healing powers for simple cases, like Hammond’s leg, and only when absolutely necessary.”

  “Promise, son,” Tobias echoed.

  Zeke looked back down at Holley and smiled as the dog wagged its tail.

  “I promise.”

  *************

  The ranger had allowed Len barely an hour to collect his things and inform his loved ones that he would be traveling for a time.r />
  “Hopefully I shall be back before the winter solstice, Bridget. The Minister has promised a good bit of gold for my troubles when I return. Perhaps then I shall be worthy of your hand in marriage.”

  Len had not been certain of Bridget’s interest in him before, but she had kissed him passionately upon hearing the news. He left with his heart aflutter in anticipation of their future together.

  How the ranger knew about the old mountain path he would not say. “You claim the guards searched the other roads and found nothing,” he had said. “If that is so – and I must take your word for this as our time is short – then there is only one other way they could have gone.”

  It did not take long for the ranger to find evidence of recent foot traffic along the old mountain path. Although the path was quite overgrown, even Len could not miss the depressions in the dirt and the broken blades of grass.

  “They went this way,” the ranger said, pointing east down the path.

  While the overgrowth somewhat slowed their progress – especially when they were forced to stop and clear it away – for the most part their horses had no trouble following the path at a decent pace.

  Much faster than two men afoot could ever manage, thought Len eagerly.

  They rode for hours in the chilly air, stopping now and again only when something caught the ranger’s eye. At one point, the ranger brought his horse to a sudden halt and jumped off. Len watched as the ranger bent down to retrieve something from the ground. When he rose, the ranger held a fistful of elderberries in his hand.

  “They were here no more than a day ago at most,” the ranger said. “We are gaining on them. We should quicken our pace. With luck, we shall catch them by morning.”

  Despite his gnawing hunger pangs, Len did not protest. They continued on until the darkness of night prevented them from going any farther.

  The morning greeted them with soft grey skies streaked with darker grey clouds and a bitterly cold breeze that quickly turned Len’s nose bright red.

  “Wizards be damned!” Len complained. “It is getting colder with each passing minute.”

  They bundled up and made their way across the Stockton Bridge, drawing ever closer to the Village of Colton. The ranger spotted the remnants of a campsite no more than an hour into their trek.

  “Is it theirs?” asked Len as he slowly got down from his horse.

  The ranger did not answer. His attention was drawn to the lifeless body of a coyote, or – more specifically – to the shaft of the arrow sticking out of its body. The ranger traced his finger along the spiral of pearl, blue, and gold colors that adorned the shaft.

  “What is it?” asked Len. “What have you found?”

  “Our prisoners have met up with another.”

  “Oh,” Len replied, disappointed. A third person complicated matters. “Can you tell which way they went?”

  Len watched as the ranger began encircling the camp in an outward spiral pattern. The ranger disappeared into the trees for some time, and Len grew hopeful that perhaps the ranger had discovered their trail. But the ranger soon returned with a scowl upon his face.

  “It is as if they grew wings!” the ranger snapped. He kicked at the cold ashes of the fire pit in obvious frustration.

  “Perhaps they have gone to Colton. It is not far from here. Perhaps someone may have seen something. They shall at least have something warm to eat,” offered Len, rubbing his frozen hands together.

  The ranger did not acknowledge Len. His eyes were focused on the arrow shaft again.

  “Derek?” It was the first time Len had used the ranger’s given name.

  The ranger raised his head and looked at Len. “I think I know where they might be.”

  “Then let us go!” Len replied excitedly at the unexpected revelation.

  But the ranger shook his head. “We must go to Bartow first. We need proper supplies. Winter shall be upon us soon.”

  *************

  Jezebel was busy packing up her room when her father entered. She continued to pack, deliberately ignoring him.

  Silas frowned and sat down on the bed.

  “Please, Jezebel. Sit,” he instructed, patting a spot beside him on the feather mattress.

  “I am busy, Father,” she replied without looking at him. “I need to pack up my belongings and take them to my new home. Dirk is expecting me.” Her words were strained and peppered with resentment.

  “Please,” Silas insisted. “I have something for you.”

  He was relieved when she finally looked at him. With reluctance she walked over to him and sat down.

  Silas withdrew the necklace from his pocket and presented it to her. It was a simple leather cord with a flat black stone encasing a star-shaped crystal.

  “I have never seen anything like this,” Jezebel remarked. She eyed it curiously as she twisted the stone in her hand. “What is it, Father?”

  “A starcrest stone.”

  “Where did you get it?” she asked.

  Silas ignored the question. He did not want to speak of the Reedite. It had been found amongst Fallon’s possessions when he first came to Koman.

  “It is a very rare and valuable stone,” he explained. “It is said to be … magical, but I must confess I know very little about it. I only know that it is special, and that it should be with a special person. So I am giving it to you, dear Jezebel.”

  Jezebel held the necklace up in the air, admiring the stone. “It is beautiful.”

  “May I?” asked Silas, his hands stretched outward.

  Jezebel handed the stone back to her father and lifted her long black hair to expose the nape of her neck.

  Silas finished fastening the necklace and stood up from the bed.

  “I shall always love you, Jezebel. I know you are angry with me now. But hopefully … in time ….”

  To his surprise, Jezebel smiled. “Thank you for the gift,” she said.

  Silas returned the smile. It was a small step forward in repairing their broken relationship.

  *************

  They had just arrived in Bartow when the first snowflakes of the season began to fall. Len hoped the early snowstorm would soon pass. He was eager to reach Aurora, the village on the far side of the Atlian Mountains where the ranger suspected their prisoners had gone. He was keenly aware that the winter solstice was fast approaching, and that the full balance of the Minister’s reward was at risk.

  “I hope we shall not be staying here long,” Len started to say as they made their way along the cobblestone streets. “Bartow is an expensive town, and I do not have much in the way of gold.”

  “We shall not go anywhere until the weather improves,” came the flat reply.

  Len sighed, but he managed to hold his tongue until he realized the intended destination of the ranger: a brothel.

  “Wizards be damned, Ranger,” he cried. “I most definitely do not have the gold for this. Besides, I am to be married when we return. I cannot—”

  The ranger turned away from Len before he could finish his sentence.

  Len quickly followed as the ranger led his horse into a nearby stable. “Ranger!”

  “Madame Celeste is an old friend of mine,” the ranger explained upon closing the gate to his horse’s stall. “We are here to wait out the storm. I care not what you choose to do with your gold.”

  Without another word, the ranger abruptly left.

  *************

  This time, Selma could not resist. She found herself standing in front of Oren’s cell.

  “Hello, dear Selma. I am happy to see you,” he said softly. “How have you been?”

  “Angry.”

  Oren nodded, offering a sympathetic smile. “I know, Selma. I am very sorry.”

  “I would not be so angry if you would just tell me.” Tears filled Selma’s eyes once more. “Please, Oren. Please just tell me.”

  “I am sorry, Selma. I cannot.”

  The sight of Oren’s flickering eyes triggered a fres
h wave of anger within her. “Then I shall not return.” Selma started to leave.

  “Wait, Selma! Please.”

  She stopped at the sound of his voice, but did not turn to face the prisoner.

  “It is not my story to tell, and this may be a story better left untold,” he said. “But if you must know what happened to Wendell, you must ask the right person – you must ask Lord Cephas.”

  Selma did not acknowledge Oren. His words were not what she had wanted to hear.

  *************

  “The sun has been shining for days now, Ranger. It is time for us to go!” Len pleaded. “We are wasting valuable time.”

  It had been several weeks since the first snowstorm of the season had come, but it had been quickly followed by two other small storms.

  The ranger eyed the skies wearily and shook his head. “There is too much snow on the mountain trails now. It is too risky. We must wait a little longer.”

  Len felt the blood rush to his face. “Wizards be damned! A true ranger would never be afraid of a little snow.”

  The ranger’s eyes flashed in anger. “The Atlian trails are littered with the bones of people who were not afraid of a little snow.”

  Len sighed. His hopes of returning the Reedite prisoners before the winter solstice were quickly dashed as he resigned himself to the fact that he would be staying at Madame Celeste’s brothel for a little while longer.

  In truth, there were worse places to be stranded. He and the ranger received free room and board, as well as a small stipend, in exchange for ensuring that Madame Celeste’s girls were not harmed. Apparently there had been a band of ruffians from Colton a few months prior who had caused quite a bit of trouble, and Madame Celeste was all too happy to have some additional protection.