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

by RM Wark

  Gage had been brought to the castle as a young boy, along with several other orphans, and had quickly impressed the Emperor with his fighting skill, agility, and strength. Lord Etan had taken a particular liking to Gage, and the two had developed a surprisingly close relationship for a common man and a wizard.

  Gage had served the Emperor well … until a nasty fall from a horse while drunk left him bedridden for some time. After that, the Emperor made it clear that Gage had fallen out of favor.

  As a courtesy to Lord Etan, the Emperor allowed Gage to remain as part of the guard, but he was rarely called upon, and his wages were cut back significantly. It was rumored that Gage had started working with known smugglers in recent years to cover the loss in income.

  “Gage. I have need of your services. May I come in?”

  “Aye, my lord.” Gage quickly surveyed the alleyway and, upon seeing no other, let the wizard into his home.

  *************

  Gage sat patiently as Lord Etan explained the situation.

  “I shall pay you handsomely to deliver the Princess safely to the West.”

  Lord Etan took out a large leather sack from his coat, and set it upon a table. A few gold coins spilled out.

  “There is more than enough to live comfortably until the end of your days.”

  Gage looked from the coins to his oldest friend.

  “Forgive me, but I must ask, my friend. Why would you risk so much … for a Western Wizard? I do not understand, my lord.”

  It took some time for Lord Etan to respond. “I suppose I have grown fond of her,” he said at last, his voice soft.

  Gage’s eyebrows raised in surprise. Wizards be damned, he is in love with her.

  “Are you certain you want this?” he pressed. “If your father ever found out that you were involved, ….”

  “I am certain, Gage. She shall die a most painful death if you do not help her escape.” Lord Etan averted his gaze. “I could not live with myself if that happened.”

  “But my lord—”

  “But nothing!” Lord Etan snapped. “If you do not wish to help me, just say so.”

  Gage looked once more to the coins upon the table. It was more money than he could ever hope to see in a lifetime.

  I would not have to smuggle anymore.

  Gage sighed. “Nothing would make me happier than to help you, my friend, but I am not sure that I can. Even if I took your gold, it would be of no use to me if I could not find a place to live. If I helped the Princess escape, I could never return to the East – the Emperor would see to my death. And yet I could not live in the West either. My accent would prevent me from settling anywhere save the borderlands of Durango, and we both know I would not be safe there.”

  Lord Etan’s face fell as the truth of Gage’s words set in.

  Gage could see that his friend was struggling. “I am truly sorry, my friend.”

  “There is no where that you would be safe?” Lord Etan demanded. “In all these years you have lived as a smuggler, you do not know of a single place where you might escape from my father?”

  “Your father has spies everywhere, my lord. Everywhere. And he has enough gold to tempt even the humblest of men.”

  Lord Etan grew silent, deep with thought. Minutes passed without either man speaking. When Lord Etan finally opened his mouth to speak, Gage had expected his friend to concede the folly of the plan. But he did not.

  “What about the Azorics?” Lord Etan asked.

  A chain of islands in the North Samora Sea, the Azorics were sparsely populated by tribes of fisherman who had been living in relative autonomy for centuries.

  The Emperor had never paid them much attention. There was nothing of value on the volcanic islands, and they were relatively isolated from the mainland, with much of the sea surrounding the Azorics turning to ice during the winter months.

  Gage considered the proposition. “I have always wanted to see a volcano,” he admitted. Gage could see the eagerness in Lord Etan’s face. “Aye, I shall do it, my lord.” Because you are my oldest friend, my only friend.

  “Thank you, my friend. I shall take care of the enchantments that currently prevent her escape. You must take care of the rest.”

  “Aye, my friend. I shall do it. Tonight.”

  The two men embraced and Lord Etan quickly left.

  Gage eyed the gold on his table and started to reach for his flask of whiskey but thought better of it. There is much to do before nightfall.

  *************

  “What is the matter, my love?”

  Zahara had not seen such fret and frustration on her husband’s face for some time. She curled up next to him and placed her head on his shoulder.

  “It is snowing again,” Silas said, gently stroking his wife’s arm as he stared out the window.

  “Winter shall be over soon. Triarch is only a few days away.”

  “And yet I shall not be surprised if the snow continues until Tetril or Pentay or even Hexune,” Silas replied with a scowl.

  “All seasons come to an end eventually.”

  “I fear we are already out of time.”

  “Whatever do you mean?” Zahara lifted her head and searched her husband’s eyes.

  “The village does not have enough food to survive another storm, Zahara.”

  “Then we shall find some more food. I am sure there is plenty in Bartow.”

  Silas shook his head. “Not that we can afford. With the roads as they are, the farmers are having a hard time getting their crops to market. The farmers that have made it into the town are demanding high prices, and there is no shortage of willing buyers.”

  The pain was evident in Silas’s expression.

  “I cannot compete with the wealth of Bartow – especially when I have trackers to consider.”

  “Perhaps you should forget about the trackers and the prisoners,” suggested Zahara. “It has been months now, and nothing has come of their escape. No harm has come to our village.”

  “That is not the point!” Silas snapped. “The Reedites,” he continued, his voice still agitated but not as loud, “they were prepared to let Fallon be Steward, even though his mark was not the proper mark, and yet, they chose a very different fate for Seth. They banished him to this barren land … pretended not to know him. They have let us suffer through the centuries. It is not fair.”

  “No, it is not fair, Silas,” Zahara said, her voice soothing and calm. “But that is not the fault of Fallon.”

  “We do not have enough food to feed our own daughter, Zahara! I fear for her health, and the health of our grandchild. It is not fair that Fallon and his friend are allowed to roam free without a care while the rest of us suffer. His mark is not the proper mark … for Reed or for Koman. I can see that now. He is not the one. He should suffer with the rest of us … should he live at all.”

  Since the Reedites’ escape, Silas had become increasingly bitter and resentful of the disparate fates of Seth and Fallon, and it had become increasingly difficult to reason with him on that subject. Zahara decided to try a different approach.

  “Aye, my love. I understand completely,” she said softly, pulling herself closer to him. “But if you do not use the gold you have set aside for the trackers, what shall we do for food?”

  Silas’s voice was flat. “We shall raid.”

  “No! You promised me after the last raid – the raid that almost took the life of our daughter – you promised me there would be no more raids. You promised!”

  “But I did not foresee a winter such as this,” Silas replied grimly.

  “But the Reedites have an army now!” Zahara protested. “It is not like before. The risks are too great.”

  “I have no other choice.”

  “You do, my love. You do.”

  But Silas did not hear her. He did not want to hear her.

  *************

  Gage liked to think he knew the castle grounds better than anyone, save probably the Emperor and Lord Etan.
He had grown up here. He knew all the secret hiding spots that only mischievous young boys trying to avoid getting caught for their various transgressions might discover.

  Because of this, reaching the Princess’s sleeping quarters and scaling the terrace in the dark had been relatively easy. Unfortunately, dealing with the Princess proved more difficult. Gage barely managed to stifle her scream when he attempted to rouse her from sleep.

  He looked into her frightened eyes and spoke softly.

  “Hush, Princess. I am not here to harm you. I come under the orders of Lord Etan. He has asked me to return you to the West, but we must leave at once. Do you promise to remain quiet if I remove my hand?”

  Lady Delia nodded, and he slowly pulled his hand from her mouth.

  “Who are you?” she asked in an angry whisper.

  “I am Gage. Son of Rupert, of Cetahl, my lady.”

  The Princess looked at him suspiciously. “How do I know I can trust what you say?”

  Gage pulled out a knife from his boot and held it up to her face. “Because I could have easily killed you had that been my desire,” he said. “Now hurry. We do not have much time.”

  The scare tactic did not work as planned.

  “I am not going anywhere with you. I want to speak to Lord Etan,” she snapped.

  “That is not possible, my lady,” replied Gage, shaking his head. “He cannot be seen with you tonight.”

  “Why not?”

  “The Emperor must not suspect that Lord Etan had anything to do with this.”

  “Lord Etan is acting against his father’s wishes?” the Princess asked, surprised.

  Gage nodded. “Please, my lady. I beg of you. We must leave.”

  “But I cannot leave. Not now. Not after everything that has happened.” A resigned sort of melancholy replaced the anger that had been in her voice.

  Gage was getting desperate. He was not skilled in the art of negotiation and had not anticipated her reluctance to leave. What captive does not desire their freedom? He knew that guards would be coming through the garden soon. He knew they must be long gone by then.

  “You must, my lady. Please. Do you not wish to be free? Do you not wish to see the land of your childhood again?”

  The Princess remained silent.

  “Your life is at stake, Princess. To stay is to die.”

  Her eyes widened at the revelation.

  “It is true, my lady. Lord Etan told me so.”

  The Princess finally seemed to grasp the urgency of the situation. She rose from her bed and put on the dark traveling coat that Gage had brought with him.

  “Let us go then,” she said.

  Gage tied a rope around Princess Delia’s waist and helped her over the terrace.

  “Hold on, Princess.”

  With little effort he lowered her down from the terrace to the garden below. She stood below and watched as he deftly climbed down the wall, much like a spider. He jumped down to the ground beside her and untied the rope from her waist.

  “We must be quiet yet quick. Stick to the shadows. Follow me.”

  He guided her through the garden and down the narrow trails that the groundskeepers used. They scrambled inside a shed and remained there, motionless, until the sounds of approaching guards faded away. A few tense minutes later, Gage led her back outside.

  He reached a small cellar door on the side of the castle. It was locked, but Gage had a key. The door creaked loudly upon opening, causing Gage to freeze and hold his breath. When it became apparent that no guards were rushing to their location, he let out a sigh of relief and turned his attention back to the Princess.

  “Hurry!” Gage motioned for the Princess to step into the darkness beyond the cellar door.

  “But I cannot see anything!” she started to protest.

  We do not have time for this!

  Gage had grown weary of arguing with her. Without another thought, he pushed her into the darkness. He quickly realized how foolish this had been. She could have easily shouted out at the unexpected shove. Fortunately, she merely cursed at him beneath her breath.

  “There are five stairs leading down to the cellar,” he whispered. “When you reach the cellar floor, keep hold of the wall to your right and let it guide you to the opposite side of the room.”

  Gage knew the Princess’s eyes had begun to adjust to the darkness when the pace of her steps quickened. A few minutes later, they found themselves in front of a locked door. Gage produced another key and quickly ushered the Princess through.

  Before them was a long, wide tunnel with wooden crates and hay scattered about. At the far end of the tunnel, they reached a set of large wooden doors. Gage removed a latch and slid back a bar. The opened doors revealed a cobblestone alleyway.

  “Are we beyond the castle walls?” Lady Delia whispered, her voice a curious mixture of excitement and fear.

  “Aye. Follow me.”

  Gage guided her along the narrow streets, deftly avoiding the random Easterners who had not yet retired to their homes. Cobblestone streets soon gave way to dirt roads, and buildings gave way to fields. Lady Delia and Gage continued heading west.

  They were quiet yet quick, and they stuck to the shadows.

  *************

  Silas stared at the Komanites seated around the fire. Shadows danced upon their faces – obscuring much of their countenances – but he did not need to see their expressions to know their thoughts and worries: the pending raid, the Reedite army, and everything they had to lose.

  Those thoughts weighed heavy on his mind as well, but not as heavy as his thoughts of Zahara. She had argued with him for days about the pending raid. She screamed, she pleaded, she cried. In the end, she stopped speaking to him. He had been forced to sleep in the guest room the past few nights, and she had taken to eating alone.

  “What is wrong?” Jezebel had finally asked after witnessing several days of silence.

  She has never seen us fight before, Silas thought, recalling that morning in the dining hall. We have never fought like this before, he conceded.

  “It is nothing, Jezebel,” Silas had replied. “We are having a disagreement, nothing more. It shall pass.”

  “It shall pass,” Silas muttered aloud. It must.

  “What was that, Minister?”

  The sound of Jon’s voice broke Silas from his thoughts of Zahara. He focused once again on the Komanites seated around the fire.

  “It is time,” Silas said. His gaze settled upon the lone boy of eleven years, maybe twelve, seated next to Jon. “Henry, are you ready?”

  Henry looked first towards Jon, who in turn nodded at his son.

  “Aye, Minister. I am ready.”

  “Good. You have a very important job, Henry. The most important.”

  “Aye, Minister. I understand.”

  “Very well. Let us go.”

  *************

  As he marched along the snowy path, guiding his horse behind him, Silas found himself thinking of the previous raid. More than a hundred men had accompanied him then. Now, there were just twelve others, not including the boy, Henry.

  The Komanites moved in stealth under a moonless sky, adorned in robes and hoods of black. But this time, there was no fire. This time, there would be no destruction. If all went as planned, they would raid the Durham storage barn without the Reedites ever knowing that it was the Komanites who stole from them.

  The travel had been difficult. The Reedites had long ago posted guards at all the main roads entering the village, so the Komanites were forced to use smaller, overgrown trails that had long been ignored. The blanket of snowfall and occasional patches of ice made the trek even more difficult. Silas had been tripped up on more than one occasion. Each time he cursed the ranger.

  He should have been back by now. He should be here with us, guiding us on this treacherous path.

  The group came to a halt. Down the ridge a few hundred yards stood the storage barn. Jon looked expectantly at Silas, his hand on Henry�
��s shoulder. For once, words escaped him, and Silas just nodded. He watched as Jon and Henry slowly made their way into the darkness.

  *************

  Hours would pass before they finally stopped to rest.

  “We shall be safe here – for a little while at least,” Gage assured her. “We shall leave again at dusk.”

  They had stopped at the shores of a large lake resting in the foothills of jagged mountain peaks. The eerie, pale green waters glowed brightly in the first rays of dawn.

  “Do all the lakes in the East glow with green?” Lady Delia asked, recalling her encounter with a similar lake on her march to Cetahl decades earlier.

  “No, my lady. Just the Gimanile Lakes.”

  “Is the water poisonous?”

  The guardsman shrugged. “I do not know for certain, but I do not believe so.”

  “Then why is the water green?”

  This time Gage chuckled. “There is a song that children sing about that. My voice is not well suited for singing, but I would be happy to recite the words.”

  Gage cleared his throat:

  Orica did her days with beauty

  With kindness and with grace

  All who know her loved her so

  And longed for her embrace

  Gim and Niles loved her most of all

  Two brothers, handsome and strong

  They offered jewels, they offered lace

  They often wooed her with a song

  For the love of Orica

  They would both stand tall

  For the love of Orica

  They would risk it all

  She could not choose between them

  And so she ran away

  She found love in the arms of a mountain sprite

  Who promised to keep her safe