Victory and Defeat: Book Five of the Restoration Series

by Williams, Christopher

  “Great news!” Dagan blurted out, looking just like a kid with a new toy. “We have a way into the temple.” Most of the others were smiling as well.

  “We do?” Agminion asked. He shook his head. “I don’t see how.”

  Dagan looked a bit taken aback. “Well, you saw how they opened the secret entrance, didn’t you?”

  “In the dark? From across the road?” Agminion shook his head again. “No, I didn’t see how they opened the secret door.”

  Dagan sucked in a deep breath while closing his eyes. He looked like he might be about to explode. Luckily, Jared spoke before Dagan could.

  “It doesn’t matter if we know how to open the door or not. Even if we could get through, we still wouldn’t know which way to go. You need a guide.”

  “A guide?” Dagan and Agminion said in unison.

  Jared nodded and looked around the room; he seemed to be trying to make up his mind about something.

  “What is it?” Dagan asked. His tone was curious, but the anger was gone.

  Jared sighed deeply and after a moment he nodded. “As you wish,” he said and then paused, sighing again. “The king has entrusted me with a tremendous burden. Since he cannot be here, he has given me his full support in whatever decisions I make.”

  Dagan’s eyes widened in surprise, but the others looked less than impressed.

  “What does that mean?” Atock asked.

  “It means,” Dagan said, “that Jared can do anything he wants and King Darion will support him.” He paused and scratched his cheek. “What exactly were you planning on doing?”

  “It would seem that we have a unique opportunity.” He seemed unsure if he wanted to verbalize his plan. “We can take Duke Wellis and Countess Lells captive tonight.”

  “Captive!” Cassandra exclaimed, interrupting the spymaster. “You could start a civil war.”

  Jared nodded. “I’m aware, but if we could force one of them to lead a select group of troops through this secret door, then we can have the high priest and the entire church captive by the morning.”

  “To what end?” Agminion asked. His mind was racing with the possibilities of what Jared suggested.

  “What end?” Jared repeated, looking confused. “If we have that bastard Olliston at the end of a sword, then we will have the church under our control.” He shrugged, “Then we wouldn’t need to worry about the church trying to start a civil war.”

  “How do you suggest getting one of those two to lead us back through the door?” Cassandra asked. “They could very easily lead us into a trap or give us false information.”

  “And neither of them will be quick to turn on the church. They are both rabid in their religion,” Dagan said.

  Jared nodded. “I have an idea about that, but that’s for later. Right now we need to decide if we can take those two captive before they return to the Lells’s estate.”

  Dagan shook his head. “I still don’t understand the need to rush this plan of yours. Why not consult with the king?”

  “Because,” Jared replied, “we have an excellent opportunity of taking both of them captive without anyone else noticing. Normally, the two of them are surrounded by guards, and any move against them will alert the church to what we are doing. Tonight we can make a bold move.”

  Dagan was nodding, “We have an opportunity for a bold move. It could very well save Telur.”

  “Or cause it to split apart,” Cassandra added quietly.

  Chapter 26

  Agminion, Atock, and Jared hid in the shadows along the route they expected Angaria and Hannah to use on their return trip. Ideally, they would have waited at the secret entrance to Countess Lells’s estate, but as there was a sorcerer on the grounds, they couldn’t risk using sorcery that close to her manor. So, they had split into two groups and moved a safe and reasonable distance from the entrance. Dagan’s group was in the next large street over to the east. They were watching the two most obvious paths from the temple to the Lells’s estate.

  Agminion’s hands were sweating, and his breathing was quick and shallow. Plain and simple, he wasn’t use to this. He was a sorcerer, not a soldier. He glanced at Atock and Jared. It was disgusting how relaxed both men looked, but then again, he wasn’t sure what exactly those two were supposed to do. The plan called for taking the duke and countess captive quickly and quietly. Undoubtedly, Atock could knock them both unconscious, but that would involve getting close to them — no way they wouldn’t raise a cry if they saw him coming. Likewise, Jared could probably kill them silently, but he would also need to get close, once again they would call out. Besides, they were supposed to capture, not kill, so it appeared it was all up to him.

  He glanced up and down the street again. Nothing. He wasn’t sure if he wanted them to come this way or not. This whole plan seemed extremely foolish, and he wasn’t exactly sure it was a good idea. If the duke and countess returned by a different path, then they might be saved from making a big mistake. Somehow he knew he wouldn’t be that lucky.

  “Are you keeping us hidden?” Jared asked.

  Agminion snorted and glanced over his shoulder. “Of course I am,” he said a bit heatedly.

  “Be quiet!” Atock snapped, but he at least managed to keep his voice down.

  Shaking his head, Agminion turned back to watching the streets. They were standing on the side of the main thoroughfare, just off into the mouth of a small alley that ran between two of the nobles’ estates. He was using his sorcery to blend them into the darkness, but the main reason he kept ahold of his spirit was that he needed the heightened senses. He needed any and all little advantages that he could get.

  The breeze was blowing softly and it ruffled Cassandra’s hair. She breathed in deeply, enjoying the night air. She had spent many a night in Telur over the course of her life and it was good to be back. Her eyes were closed, and the coolness felt good on her face.

  “What is the plan?” Warren asked.

  Cassandra sighed and opened her eyes. They were five or six streets away from Countess Lells’s estate, but they still had an excellent chance to find their prey. The two sorcerers would be able to sense the couple well before anyone could see or hear them.

  They had come across a manor wall that was being repaired. Several large stones and two piles of dirt lay off to the side of the road, and it made for excellent cover. The drawback was that she fully expected every guard detail to look at the area around the stones since it was such a perfect hiding place. So they had picked a hiding spot that would probably draw every guard detail that passed by.

  “The plan is we capture them,” Dagan snapped.

  She looked at the old man, amazed that someone hadn’t taken the time to kill the old bastard. “That’s not very specific,” she said softly.

  “What more do you need?”

  “How?” Warren asked in an exaggerated manner.

  Dagan smiled at the Faerum and nodded to Cassandra.

  “Me?” she asked.

  “Of course you,” Dagan replied. “For a mage of your standing, a simple sleep spell should be easy.”

  “Yes,” Cassandra replied, “but you need to tell me.”

  “I just did,” Dagan said and his grin actually got bigger.

  Cassandra closed her eyes again, but this time it was so she wouldn’t have to see Dagan. If she lived through this, then she hoped she would never see him again.

  Her eyes popped open, and she flipped back her cloak and began rummaging in her belt pouch. The old coot was right; it would be easy for her to cast a sleep spell, but he needed to warn her so she could get prepared. While the spell was easy, it still took time.

  Duke Angaria Wellis walked along the road, lost in his thoughts. He was experiencing a sort of euphoria that he hadn’t felt in a long time. For the first time in what seemed like ages, he had given the high priest good news. It wasn’t the news that he was hoping for. Flaranthlas Eldanari was still alive and roaming free, but some of those who were close to the
elven bastard were about to be captured. He saw it as the first step in restoring his position with the church.

  So many things had gone wrong. It had all started with that elven bastard joining the Guardians, but it hadn’t stopped there. He still could not believe that the king had been so foolish as to adopt the boy. If only the king had spoken to him first, then, perhaps, he could have stopped that terrible event from happening.

  He shuddered at the thought of his next, and worst, failure. It had been his idea to send Flare after Ossendar. Nothing about his plan had gone right. First, the Guardians had split into three smaller groups, a contingency that he had not planned for. And then the priestess Kara Elba had betrayed the church and thrown away the small bracelet that she had been ordered to wear. The bracelet was enchanted and would have allowed agents of the church to follow their progress. Everything had gone wrong. Flare retrieved the sword and returned to Telur, the king had been forced to take it from him, and then Flare stole the sword and fled.

  He shook his head, amazed that so many things had gone wrong, and yet he was still alive. And tonight things had begun to change. They would soon have several of Flare’s friends in the torture rooms where they belonged, and then it was a matter of time until they would find Flare and Ossendar.

  There was a sniff from behind him and Angaria resisted the urge to sigh. Hannah had not spoken to him since they’d left the high priest’s study and he thought he might know why. Dalin had congratulated Angaria but not Hannah. He would have to try to soothe it over once they reached her manor. For the time being, she was still necessary, but that time would soon be over. The euphoria came back to Angaria as he imagined his life forever free of Hannah Lells.

  They were walking south on a large street in the noble’s district. The street was empty and they hadn’t even seen a guard patrol since they left the temple. He wasn’t worried — any patrol that spotted them would ignore them. The way they were dressed, and that fact that one of them was a woman, would preclude them from being up to no good.

  He inhaled the refreshing night air and felt that the world was about to change for the better.

  “They’re coming,” Dagan said suddenly, breaking the silence that had settled between them. Cassandra had been twirling her hair, and Warren had been leaning against the wall with his arms folded; they both looked up at his words.

  “Where?” Cassandra asked.

  Dagan pointed up the street toward the north. He could sense the couple coming from that direction. He sent his spirit forth a bit and he could tell it was a man and a woman; had to be them. He then sent his spirit forth in a different direction, to the west. He had to be circumspect and he concentrated carefully. His forehead beaded with sweat, even in the cool night air. He meant to make sure that Agminion sensed him, but not the other sorcerer, the one still at Hannah’s estate.

  He frowned. He had failed to control his spirit and it had slipped away from him. That had not happened since he was a novice. Must be tired, he thought, and it was undoubtedly true. He was getting old. That wasn’t quite right. He had gotten old and then he left old behind years ago. He was ancient, and he had been running for months. His old body had a right to demand rest, but now was not the time.

  He tried again, and this time he succeeded. He could feel the sweat running down his nose as he took several long and deep breaths.

  Agminion jerked up straight. Something had just happened. Something had swept across him and he knew what it was. It was someone’s spirit. It was like being out on an extremely dark night when one of your friends uncovered a light. He could feel the goose bumps even as he turned toward the others.

  “Dagan’s found them,” he said, and pushed himself to his feet.

  Atock had been standing with his back against the wall, and he also pushed himself straight.

  Jared was the only one who was ready; he was standing at the mouth of the alley, watching the road. It seemed he trusted his own senses more than those of the sorcerer. “Which way?” he asked in a calm voice that betrayed no excitement or anxiety.

  “They’re to the east,” Agminion answered. “We need to hurry.”

  “No,” Atock and Jared answered together.

  “Uh, no?” Agminion questioned.

  “No,” Atock repeated. “We go north first, then we cut east. If they escape Dagan’s group, then they should run right into us.”

  Agminion frowned. Atock’s plan made sense, but he looked to Jared. “Why did you say no?”

  Jared smirked. “Because we have to north first.” He glanced at Atock and nodded his head.

  Atock sprinted from the mouth of the alley and ran up the road. They were wearing boots provided to them by the spymaster. The soles of the boots were soft so they could run along the stone streets without making much noise.

  Jared waved for Agminion to follow and then he ran after Atock.

  Agminion sighed and followed.

  Angaria walked the street, still thinking of his soon-to-be victory. Perhaps the high priest would reward him. There were many things in life that he desired that he had yet to attain. Perhaps the time for those things was quickly approaching.

  He glanced up at the night sky. He found the stars and the moon comforting and he had to stifle a yawn. It had been a long day, and he looked forward to his bed.

  The street had gone quiet. Oh, it had been quiet before, but now even the wind had stopped blowing. No birds chirped, no owls hooted, and there weren’t even any sounds coming from the rest of the city. That seemed strange, and Angaria tried to focus on it, but he felt groggy.

  He brought his hand to his face, rubbing his left cheek. Gods, but he was tired. His eyes seemed heavy, and all he wanted to do was lay down and go to sleep.

  There was a clatter from behind him and he turned, his movements still a bit woozy. Hannah had collapsed, falling hard to the cobblestone street.

  He blinked, trying to focus his eyes on her, but he didn’t seem to be able to. He raised his right hand and slapped his himself hard across the face. The stinging pain brought the street back into focus. His mind was still a bit foggy, but the very fact that he knew something was wrong made him all the more alert.

  The street appeared empty. He glanced back to Hannah and couldn’t decide if he was pleased or disappointed that she was breathing steadily.

  There were some stones piled up on the side of the street and he glanced their way. He just managed to catch sight of a man’s face peering around the edge of the stones at him. It wasn’t a man that he had seen before, he was sure of that, but nevertheless he instantly knew what it meant. Trap! That thought was immediately followed by another, Magicians!

  Angaria turned and began running away, back toward the north. He made it five steps before he hit an invisible barrier, and he bounced back, falling to one knee.

  He shook his head to clear it, and he could taste the blood in his mouth. The barrier might not really be there, but it sure felt solid.

  He climbed to his feet, and looked back. What he saw made him go cold all over. In addition to the man he had seen a moment before, there were two others hurrying toward him. He recognized them: the magician Cassandra and the sorcerer Dagan.

  His mind filled with questions. They raced through his thoughts so fast that before one even finished, another was taking its place. What did this mean? Why were they trying to capture them? And then another thought broke through, They’re already here and they’ve been spying on me. Any traces of his earlier euphoria were long gone, replaced by a horrible suspicion that he had been lied to. Oh dear Gods! Had he relayed false information to the high priest?

  Dagan and Cassandra stopped ten feet from him, but the other man, the dark one, began to slowly edge his way around, undoubtedly intending to cut off any escape.

  “Hello, Angaria,” Dagan said, and there was no mistaking the gloating in his tone.

  Angaria swallowed hard and waved his hand toward Hannah. “Did you kill her?”

  Both Daga
n and Cassandra glanced at the woman just as Angaria had hoped. In that moment when their eyes left him, he raised his right arm and flexed his muscles. There was a flump, and something shot out from the end of his sleeve.

  Dagan was enjoying the sight of confusion, panic, and anger on Angaria’s face. The man was truly an ass and deserved far worse than anything he might get.

  Dagan and Cassandra stopped ten feet short of the duke. Dagan kept the wall of spirit behind Angaria so he couldn’t run away. Dagan was ready to move the wall at a moment’s notice, but it probably wouldn’t be necessary. They had the duke cornered.

  “Hello Angaria,” Dagan said, fighting hard to keep from smiling. His face might not have shown his delight, but his words betrayed his malicious satisfaction.

  Angaria stood there for just a moment, and then he glanced to Countess Lells. “Did you kill her?” he asked.

  Dagan glanced at the woman. Kill her? She was obviously breathing. Then panic burst through him and he cursed himself. His tired, old mind had fallen for Angaria’s trick.

  Dagan shoved Cassandra sideways and tried to yank the wall of spirit between them and the duke, but he was too late. A six-inch steel dart slammed into his shoulder. The dart hit hard, tearing through the flesh and striking the bone.

  Dagan dropped to the ground, his left hand clapped over the wound in his shoulder. His eyes watered, his vision blurred at the pain, and everything began to spin.

  As soon as the dart erupted from his sleeve, Angaria turned and ran. He didn’t take the time to watch the dart’s path. He hoped it found his intended target — the old sorcerer Dagan. If the dart struck home, he might have a chance to get away; he should know any moment. If he missed, or if Dagan managed to deflect that attack, then he should feel the sorcerer’s spirit latching hold of him any time now.