Victory and Defeat: Book Five of the Restoration Series

by Williams, Christopher

There was a shuffling from within Derek’s room and the door opened. Trestus peered out the gap at them. He grinned and stepped back to let them pass.

  In addition to Trestus, Enstorion, Derek, and Leela already waited for them in the small room. The room was maybe ten feet square with two narrow beds on either side along the wall. A single wooden cabinet stood between the beds, and upon it sat a large porcelain bowl filled with water. The innkeeper had allowed them to move two of the chairs from the common room up here, and Enstorion sat in one while Derek had the other.

  “We got good news,” Kara said with a smile.

  “Oh, do you now?” Derek replied. “It doesn’t have anything to do with the upcoming festival, does it?”

  Kara smile quickly turned into a frown. “How did you hear about it?”

  Derek motioned toward Leela. “A farmer told her at the market.”

  “So will this get us into the abbey?” Trestus asked Kara.

  It wasn’t just Trestus, they were all watching her. Of course they’re looking to me, she thought. I used to be a member of the church. That last thought hurt a bit. The archbishop had once told her never to confuse the Church of Adel with Adel himself. So, while she couldn’t say that she was still a member of the church, she was still a follower of Adel, or at least she hoped she still was.

  Kara shook her head and refocused her thoughts on the matter at hand. “Well, I think it’ll let us get inside the abbey’s grounds, but I’m not sure how we plan to find the shield and remove it without getting caught.”

  “Do you know how long the festival will last?” Leela asked.

  Nodding, Kara moved over and sat down on the bed next to Trestus. “Yes, it should last seven days.” She smiled and added, “It’s ironic, but while the abbey is celebrating the festival, there will be wild, drunken parties all throughout the town.”

  “Do you think any of the guards will go to those parties?” Derek asked.

  “No,” Kara said firmly, surprising the others, “absolutely not.”

  “Why not?” Keenan asked. “Even church guards have been known to indulge a bit.”

  Kara held up her hand and began counting the reasons on her fingers. “Flare has claimed and stolen Ossendar, and then he fled Telur. Heather’s group was accused of stealing the helmet of Ashteroth. Ocklamoor is one of the two remaining signs.” She turned to the others. “No guards will be drunk during the festival. In fact, they’ll probably be more of them, and they will be more alert.”

  Chapter 2

  Hannah pushed the covers back and quietly climbed from the bed. She paused briefly just to make sure her passing went unnoticed, then she quickly left the opulent bedroom. The floor of the bedroom, and the hallway beyond, was covered in a thick, luxurious carpet that effectively muffled her footfalls.

  Most likely she was being overly careful, but she was playing a dangerous game. If she were caught drugging and spying on Prince Aldon, she would probably be lucky just to lose her title and lands rather than her life.

  She walked to the far end of the hallway and began descending the curved staircase toward the first floor. It was cold and she shivered. She wore only a flimsy see-through nightgown, and the old stone manor always seemed chilly. It was late, or perhaps more accurately it was early, and the sun would be up in several hours.

  She didn’t worry about servants or guards seeing her in her near-naked state. First, there weren’t any servants up and about, and as to the guards, well, she rather enjoyed their admiring looks. It was true that there might come a time in her life where she felt the need to cover her body, but that day was not today. Oh, she wouldn’t want to walk down the street dressed in her current attire, but she didn’t mind flaunting herself in front of her young guards.

  Reaching the bottom of the stairs, the countess crossed the wide sitting room to a door in the far wall. The floor was covered in white and black tiles and her bare feet made a slapping sound as she walked.

  She paused just outside the door and took a deep breath. She wasn’t overly fond of the man who was waiting for her in the small library, but she had been ordered to follow this man’s orders by the high priest himself. Her dedication to the church was unquestioned.

  Opening the door, Hannah stepped inside. The room was dark; the only source of light was a small, nearly extinguished candle that sat on the desk. The flickering candlelight caused the various shadows of the room to jump and move, almost as if they were alive.

  Thick curtains covered the two windows, and floor-to-ceiling bookcases lined the walls. There was a small gap in the shelves where an unlit fireplace resided. A large wooden desk was centered between the two windows, and a couch and single chair sat facing the desk.

  A man sat reclining on the couch. He was tall and thin, his silky clothes hanging loosely off his frame. He had the appearance of a man who had recently lost a great deal of weight. His hair was slightly disheveled, and his skin looked a bit waxen. He turned as she entered the room. “It took you long enough,” he said, and the anger in his tone was unmistakable.

  Hannah took several steps into the room and paused, studying the man on the couch. She had known Duke Angaria Wellis for a long time, but the events of the past couple of years were taking their toll on him. She noted the weight loss and the newly graying hair. It was obvious Angaria was under a lot of stress and his body was not responding well.

  Saying nothing, Hannah walked over and sat down in the lone chair. Angaria’s eyes flicked downwards over her body, and Hannah resisted the urge to smile. She knew the duke found her proclivities distasteful, but even he wasn’t immune to the curves of her body. She found it all the more thrilling, because she knew the duke would be angry at his own weakness.

  “Well?” Angaria snapped, his sharp tone betraying his embarrassment at his own lusts.

  “Things have not changed. Prince Aldon has not heard anything new about the whereabouts of Flare or the other outlaw Guardians. He firmly believes that King Darion has not heard anything new either.” She paused, noting the duke’s deepening frown. “However, he has begun to suspect that some of the noble houses may be plotting against the king.”

  Angaria blinked in surprise. “What? Why does he think that?”

  “House Efflen and House Steel have both resisted the king’s call for soldiers and sent only token forces.”

  Angaria snorted. “They do that every time Darion calls for troops. Why would that make him think they’re plotting insurrection?”

  “It’s actually more than that,” Hannah said slowly. “The representatives of both houses are acting strangely, and there are reports that the manors and castles in both territories are being heavily fortified.”

  “Interesting,” Angaria said after a moment. “And Aldon thinks this means rebellion?”

  “He only suspects, but he also suspects that Barrett will be a disaster, perhaps the end of Telur.”

  Angaria nodded. “He might be right.”

  Hannah looked shocked. “The end of Telur? Surely that’s not what the high priest wants.”

  Angaria smiled in a placating manner, like one would do to a child. “Even if the kingdom of Telur is dissolved, the city will still remain, as will the church. Do not worry; you will retain your lands in whatever kingdoms come out of Telur’s fall.” He paused, weighing his words. “Perhaps you will even have a place of royalty in one of the new kingdoms.”

  Hannah was still startled and perhaps a bit fearful. Telur had existed for millennia, and she couldn’t imagine a world in which her homeland was gone. The kingdom, corrupt as it may be, was her home, and it was part of the foundation of her world. She couldn’t imagine any future where the kingdom of Telur no longer existed.

  “Does Prince Aldon suspect you of anything?” Angaria asked.

  Hannah’s eyes flicked from the far wall to come to rest on Angaria’s face; he was studying her intently. She didn’t much like the man’s expression. Fear and worry had shot through her at the thought of Telur falling,
and she didn’t like that Duke Angaria had been able to read so much of her thoughts.

  She took a deep breath and said, “No, he still believes that he is enjoying the best sex of his life. He does not know or suspect that he has been drugged.” She paused, thinking how best to say her next words. “But the drugs are starting to lose their potency. A person builds up a tolerance over time, and it won’t be long before the drugs no longer affect him.” It galled her to say those words. For the time being, she was one of the most important people doing the work of the church. Once her influence over Prince Aldon waned, her influence within the church would also diminish.

  Angaria nodded. “It is to be expected, but there are ways of intensifying the affects.”

  “Really? How?”

  Angaria smiled. “The church has a few faithful sorcerers, and I understand their abilities mixed with your drugs.” He paused and glanced down at her nakedness. “As well as your … charms … can prolong the time that Aldon remains under your spell.”

  This time Hannah was repulsed by Angaria’s eyes roving over her body. The first time it had seemed a compliment, but now it seemed like he was judging a common whore. Anger bubbled up from within her and she took several deep breaths before speaking. “Sorcerers? I thought the church denounced their kind.”

  “Oh, they do, but sometimes you must use your enemies to destroy your enemies.”

  Hannah found the words troubling. How far will the church go to destroy Flare? she wondered.

  “I will have a sorcerer assigned to your household staff,” Angaria said. “When the good prince visits you tomorrow, you will have a new procedure to try out on him.”

  Hannah’s eyes fell to the floor, as she tried to hide the worried look on her face.

  Chapter 3

  Dagan breathed a huge sigh of relief as he stepped into the dimly lit corridor. Traveling by wizardry was truly an amazing thing, but it also scared him half out of his mind. Mere moments ago, he was in the Faerum wastelands, and now he was in a secret passage in King Darion’s castle in Telur. The trip should have taken months, but they had made it in the blink of an eye.

  There was a grunt as someone jostled him from behind. He realized, much to his chagrin, that he had stopped on this side of the opening and was blocking the others from coming through. He stepped forward to give those following some room. None of the others seemed to have noticed his moment of fear, as they also seemed disconcerted that Flare used wizardry to send them so far away.

  Frowning, he wondered again how the boy had learned wizardry. Flare had said that he couldn’t speak of it, but that made precious, little sense. Dagan himself had taught the boy sorcery, breaking quite a few of their laws in the process. He hadn’t even thought that there were any wizards left in the world, but he must have been mistaken. Besides, in order for the Dragon Order to be restored, the prophesied one had to learn wizardry.

  The thought of the priests of the Church of Adel learning that Flare knew how to summon demons brought a smile to his face. The priests would probably wet themselves if they only knew. Then the smile slipped away; the other residents of Telur would also run screaming if they had the first inkling.

  One by one, the others emerged from the doorway. Dagan watched as they stared around open-mouthed at their surroundings. They hadn’t even suspected that such a place had existed. Flare had found it several years earlier and he had only told Dagan. Still, the old sorcerer had never been here before, and even he was somewhat taken aback by the ancient hidden passage.

  This part of the castle had once led to a private study of King Wyndon. After the king’s disappearance some two thousand years ago, people began complaining of ghostly noises and visions. In response, the new king ordered the area sealed off.

  Dagan knew this history, because Flare had traveled this hall and came face to face with the ghost of King Wyndon. It had been that very specter who explained some of the ancient history of both Flare’s human family and his elven ancestors.

  Aaron, a warrior and one of Flare’s fellow outlaw Guardians, stepped through the doorway leading a bound-and-gagged priest. The priest was a bit unusual. The Church of Adel hated and feared all warriors who could use magic or sorcery, but that was exactly what this priest could do. It seemed that some time in the distant past, one of the high priests had decided that the best way to stop Kelcer’s prophecy from being fulfilled was to train a special order of priests. These priests did the very things the church hated. They carried a sword and knew how to use both magic and sorcery.

  A special medallion hung around the priest’s neck. It was enchanted and prevented the user from using sorcery. It was the very same medallion that had been used to control Flare and keep him imprisoned. It seemed fitting that it was now being used to control the priest.

  A thought occurred to Dagan then. Perhaps some of the priests even knew wizardry; that would explain how Flare had managed to learn the forbidden art. After a moment, he dismissed the idea. If Flare had managed to learn wizardry from a priest, why wouldn’t he just say so? Surely he had no loyalties to any of them. Besides, Flare had told a horrible story of imprisonment and torture at the priests’ hands.

  No, he had to have learned wizardry some other way. As crazy as Dagan thought the church, he couldn’t imagine them keeping the ancient art of wizardry alive; it simply made no sense.

  Dagan looked back at the priest. It was on account of this man that they had come to Telur. This priest demonstrated that the church had lied and they hoped to convince King Darion of this fact. Of course he had no idea how they were to get close to the king.

  He sighed deeply and immediately began to cough. The old passage was covered in dust, and the large group of people were already stirring it up. Several others began coughing as even more of the dust swirled in the air.

  Cassandra took several steps away from the others and quickly murmured a spell. Luckily, it was an easy one and didn’t require time or reagents. In a flash, the swirling dust dropped to the ground and stubbornly refused to move again.

  Dagan finished coughing, cleared his throat, and spat a large amount of phlegm at the base of the wall. Cassandra, and several others, regarded his actions with a grimace of disgust. Dagan didn’t care; after all, it was better to have the mess on the outside than on the inside.

  Cassandra shook her head and looked away. “What now?” she asked, refusing to look in Dagan’s direction.

  The old sorcerer smiled, enjoying the discomfort of the others. “First, we follow this hallway. Flare said the entrance should be close by.”

  “And once we find the entrance?” Atock asked.

  Atock was a prince of an island nation that was an ally of Telur’s, in addition Atock was also a Guardian. He was a heavy-muscled warrior who chose to fight his battles with a short sword in each hand. Atock had been asked to return to Telur as part of Flare’s delegation to his father, King Darion. Atock was a prince of a foreign kingdom, and Flare had hoped that the impressive group might be more able to persuade his father. Unfortunately, Atock and Holgar would both stand out in King Darion’s castle. Atock’s dark-black skin would draw attention, and Holgar, was a dwarf.

  “After we find the entrance, we make camp,” Dagan said. He immediately wondered if that was the correct saying. Did one make camp in a hallway?

  He looked at the others in his group. Besides Atock, Cassandra, and himself, it was a rather large and impressive grouping of people. Agminion was, or had been, the king of Aramonia’s sorcerer. The dwarf Holgar was a relative of Volgar, king of the dwarven kingdom of Az’ha’rill’hadell. Warren was the prince of the Fae. Dagan shuddered at that last thought. For thousands of years it had been believed that all the Faerum had died in the Third War of the Races. It turned out that they had been wrong. Cursed and their powers diminished, the Faerum, or Fae as they were also known, still lived.

  In addition to the priest, Aaron was the only other member of their party. He had been asked to join for a very imp
ortant reason. Aaron was one of the few in their group who could blend in with the guards and servants of the palace. Atock and Holgar would be discovered before they could travel ten feet, but Aaron was different. He had an average build and height, and brown hair. In other words, he could walk the halls of the palace and no one would notice him. Of the others, perhaps Warren and Agminion could get by, but neither man knew the palace.

  “And after we make camp?” Atock asked.

  Dagan took a deep breath, not exactly sure how best to proceed. He glanced around at the light filtering through the numerous cracks. “We wait for nightfall and then we send Aaron out to reconnoiter the area.”

  “Well, let’s go find this doorway,” Atock said, while Aaron scowled at both men.

  They found the entrance to the hidden passage just as Flare had described it. The passage ended in wall, but a lever built into the wall opened a fake door and gave access to the hallway beyond.

  Arriving at the door, Dagan cautiously sent his spirit forth to see if anyone was around. He was immensely relieved to find the hallway and surrounding rooms deserted. He immediately recalled his spirit; to the best of his knowledge, there weren’t any other sorcerers in the castle, but he didn’t want to be proven wrong and discovered at the same time.

  Taking a deep breath, he pushed down on the lever and the fake door swung open. Light from the hallway rushed in and illuminated the gloomy hidden passage. Dagan leaned his head out into the hallway to check their surroundings. As he knew it would be, the hallway was empty. Wasting no time, Dagan retreated inside the secret passage and closed the door behind him.

  It didn’t take long to organize their camp; after all, they couldn’t have a fire in the hallway. Smoke in the air would undoubtedly draw the guards, even in this relatively deserted part of the castle. So they set out their blankets, then settled down to wait.

  With nothing else to do, several of the party dropped off to sleep, but they didn’t sleep long. Regardless of how tired they were, the floor was hard and uncomfortable. Also, there was a feeling of tension in the air, a feeling that something bad was about to happen, and sleep remained elusive.