by Jon Bender
The messenger approached and handed him the letter still sealed with wax, the sheen of his of sweat at his brown and heavy breathing indicating that he had been running. “I went to merchants’ guild house like you told me, but something happened.”
“Were you discovered?” Harlow demanded, shoving the letter in his pocket to destroy later. Images of the shadow mage following the young man, leading dozens of soldiers and mages to his doorstep, flashed through his mind. The fear was so strong he almost turned to tell the others to flee.
“When I got there, they were pulling bodies out.”
“Was Marish among them?” he asked, his panic easing.
“No. When I asked one of the servants what had happened. She told me that the mage and his people arrived and started killing people. When it was over, they had two people taken away, including one of the soldiers who had come with them.
That confused Harlow. Why would they take one of their own men as a prisoner? In the end, it didn’t matter. Servants of Or’Keer didn’t need a reason to torture or kill, even one of their own. The information also possibly explained what he had brought the others together for. Marish must have told them something about their plan tonight, and that was why Lord Prasil had announced the curfew.
“That’s not all,” the young man continued. “The soldiers are out in the northern city by the hundreds, along with many priests. And from what I saw on my trip back here, they are in the southern part as well, though, not as many.”
“Good work. You know what to do now,” he said with forced confidence, even though a slight tremor had begun in his hand.
He locked the door after the messenger left, his mind trying to assimilate what he had learned and what it could mean. Whisper had already given out instructions to the faction leaders. If the shadow mage had discovered what Marish’s were, it explained why the soldiers were concentrated in the north. The question was, how much more did the mage know? And what should they do now? He hoped that whatever Whisper was doing, it was more important than dealing with the current situation. Either way, it was up Harlow to decide what to do next, but he didn’t have to do it alone.
Entering the drying room, he found his associates waiting for him. Both Calba’din and Rinel were sitting on stools near his work bench sipping on the wine. Lajos was standing off to the side with his arms crossed, whereas Tillin had tucked his small frame into a dark corner slightly away from the others.
“I just got word that Marish has been taken by the shadow mage,” he said. There was no time to avoid the realities of their situation. “I believe his part of the plan was discovered and that has led to the soldiers being out in numbers. Tonight’s curfew is likely the product of that as well.”
The responses of his fellows varied widely. Lajos furrowed his brow and made a noise in his throat similar to that of a growl, Calba’din looked at Harlow with disbelief before downing his cup in a one gulp, and Tillin seemed to shrink deeper into the shadow. Rinel was the only one to hide her emotions, her calm face not so much as twitching an eye.
“Do you think they know about the rest of us?” Tillin asked, his voice barely audible.
“Don’t be a fool,” Lajos snapped. “If they knew, we would have never made it to this meeting.”
Harlow nodded in agreement. “I don’t know about any of you, but Whisper has yet to contact me. So, it is up to us to decide what to do.”
“That brings up another question. How is it that you knew where and who we were?” Rinel asked. The others remained quiet, waiting for him to explain.
Harlow took a breath and let it out slowly. He was not sure how they would react to Whisper selecting him. They could accept it and follow his lead, or they could give up entirely with what was happening and go into hiding. He hoped for the former. “After our last meeting, Whisper pulled me aside and asked that I learn how he has organized the factions and what his plan was. I accepted.”
“Why you?” Rinel asked. She had placed her cup on the bench and was staring intently at him, the scrutiny giving him the feeling that his worth was being weighed in that moment.
“I don’t know. But now that he’s possibly missing, it turns out he was right to do so.”
“Fine,” Calba’din interrupted. His voice was softer than one would have expected from such a large man, but he spoke so little, that all listened when he chose to do so. “So, he picked you. I have no problem with that. How about the rest of you?” He looked to Rinel who seemed ready to protest at first, then sighed and gave a slow nod. Lajos tightened his arms across his chest and grunted, which could have meant anything, but he didn’t raise an argument. When Calba’din looked to their newest member, Tillin remained quiet. “It’s settled then. So, let’s move on.”
Harlow was thankful for the driver’s support, or at least his indifference, which would save them time on deciding who should lead. “So, we know that both Fulvia and Marish have been taken to the temple where they are being questioned,” he said, trying to mimic an experienced tone.
“I believe she has given them all she knows,” Tillin said, leaning away from the shadowed corner as he engaged in the conversation. “I and others in my faction have been in hiding since she was captured. There have been several searches over the past two days, but she held out long enough for everyone to find safe places to hide.”
Harlow suppressed the rage boiling within. “Yes, but now the cursed mage has Marish as well. So, we must decide if we are to continue as Whisper wanted, or flee the city tomorrow.”
“We can simply get word out to our people that we are not going through with it and wait for a better time. There is no need to run as cowards,” Lajos said, his tone dismissive of the danger.
“The shadow mage has been here less than a week and has already taken two of us. It could be he has Whisper too. You know as well as I he will not stop until we are all dead or tied to a table in a conversion chamber. With enough time, he will succeed,” Harlow said, trying to keep the anger out of his voice.
“If we have to run anyway, then I say we go through with it,” Calba’din suggested. “We all know the shadow mages’ reputation. This one will not stop until we’ve all been found. Why not strike a powerful blow before quitting the city?”
“I agree,” Renil almost purred. “My ladies are already in position to strike. We have spent weeks getting the timing right. I don’t want to see all that planning go to waste, but now we will need help with getting away safely.”
“If you give me the location of where they will be once the work is done, I can have carts arrive after my faction has finished their work at the bridges,” Calba’din offered. “There will be a lot of confusion and the curfew won’t help, but my guild often works at night when the streets are clear. They have already made arrangements with the temples to continue for important goods.”
“Work at the bridges?” Renil asked.
“We should not share more information than is necessary,” Harlow said, cutting off Calba’din before he could answer.
“I haven’t agreed that we should continue at all!” Lajos shouted over them.
Both Renil and Calba’din went silent at the outburst. Harlow met the man’s stare for a moment before turning to Tillin. “What about you?”
In truth, they could proceed without the captain, though, it would only make things that more precarious. What they could not do without was the mages, and only Tillen knew where they were. Harlow could go around him to his lieutenants, but that would take time he didn’t have. If they did not have the new faction leader’s cooperation, it was over before it began, and they would have to start planning how to abscond Karadin.
Tillin looked to each of their faces before settling on Harlow. “Whisper wanted us to do this. He believed that this was how we could help to ensure Or’Keer’s fall, and I trust him. My faction and I will escort the mages through the city tonight as planned, and make sure they are where they’re supposed to be.”
Harlow turned
back to Lajos and waited for his answer. The captain let out another growl then reluctantly nodded. “Good. Now I have additional duties for both you and Calba’din. We need horses and wagons to transport people and supplies from our stashes to the south. Lajos, your men will provide escort for Calba’din’s people so that they are left alone to get that done today. Whatever happens, we are all leaving tonight, so get word out that everyone must be south of the river before then.”
“Many of my men have families,” Lajos said. He uncrossed his arms and tucked his thumbs into his belt, taking a more cooperative stance.
“As do those I’m responsible for,” Tillin added.
Harlow sighed inwardly. He was sure that Calba’din would have similar situations as well. Bringing families along would complicate matters in slowing them down when it came time to head south. Yes, they would be able to find help along the way if they could stay ahead of any pursuit, but he could already see how hazardous the trip would be. Still, how could he ask men and women to fight and not even try to help the people they cared for? People who were in danger of being accused of collusion in what was about to happen. It was something Or’Keer’s priests had often done in the past. That decided it. He could not leave them behind.
“We will bring only those who are at risk. Tillin, you will need to spare as many people as you can who know the undercity. It will be the safest way to move so many people out of the city without being noticed, and it has to start as soon as we are done here.” Such a large exodus could draw attention as people began to prepare, but he could see no other choice.
“Well then, I believe we need to get down to the details,” Renil said.
Soon they were all huddled around the table as Harlow sketched a rough map of the Karadin’s main thoroughfares from memory. Meeting points and rough plans were laid out adjusting to the increased presence of soldiers and curfew. The families who were at risk would be guided by Tillin’s people through the undercity and to safety outside its walls. Calba’din promised to have wagons and supplies waiting a few miles south for them. If all went well, those people would be hours away before the fighting began. He already knew that many would be left behind with so little time to prepare. Word would not reach them all before nightfall. There was also the risk that someone would discover so many people missing, but they hoped that it would be too late for Or’Keer’s servants to do anything about it.
After nearly an hour, he felt they were as ready as they could be while still allowing room to adapt to changing circumstances. When all pertinent parts were committed to memory, he set fire to the map and tossed Marish’s unopened letter on top to join the flames.
As the others readied themselves to leave, he cleared his throat to draw their attention back. “There is one more thing. Once we have succeeded… or failed, and everyone is moving south. I’m going to rescue Fulvia and Marish.”
The others went silent. He could see the disbelief etched on each of their faces, even Renil’s normally smooth, unflinching features showed a widening at the eyes. The silence was becoming uncomfortable when Calba’din finally spoke.
“You will only be offering yourself up as another prisoner. If you go into the temple, you won’t come out again.”
There had been a small hope in him that they would see some merit in his decision, some chance of success. That hope was gone, but it didn’t change his mind. He could not leave them after everything they had sacrificed. He had to try.
“I know the risks,” he said. “With any luck, the priest will be busy with the city and I will be able to find a way.”
“Only a fool bases their strategy on luck,” Lajos said.
“Do you have a plan?” Tillin asked, ignoring the captain.
“I will do my part when the time comes, but after, I will take to the undercity and go back to the northern temple where they are being held. I have already scouted a path that will take me into it.”
“And from there?” Rinel said.
“I will have to look for them,” Harlow said, already knowing how reckless it sounded.
Lajos let go a half sigh, half growl. “Some of my men have been inside that temple as guards or to move prisoners. I will have them draw up a map and have someone deliver it to you before tonight. At least that way, you will know where you are going.”
“Thank you.”
“There is much work to do, and little time to do it,” Calba’din said loudly, breaking the tension in the air. Draining his cup, he slammed it down on the bench. “Good luck to us all.”
The faction leaders left his shop one at a time using the back door. Tillin was the last to go leaving Harlow alone in the drying room. The men and women of his own faction were already preparing for tonight, and the others did not need his help to complete their tasks. There was nothing left for him to do but wait for the map to arrive. Heading up to the living area where he had been raised, he sat down in the chair and stared around. There was a good chance that this would be the last time he ever saw these walls. He looked across at the empty chair and remembered Whisper sitting there, the vacant seat making him wonder where the man was. What had happened to him at such a crucial moment in their fight?
Harlow laid his head back to rest his eyes and go over what would happen in the next twelve hours. Every track his mind took led only to disaster as he saw aspects of the plan failing. His head jerked up at the sound of banging. Outside the window, he saw that the sun was much lower in the sky, and cursed himself for falling asleep. What if he had slept through dusk?
The banging came again and he realized it was coming from downstairs at his door. Going down, the pounding was becoming more persistent. He opened his front door to find four soldiers dressed in the black livery of Or’Keer staring him down. Out on the street, pedestrians looked on with worry and fear on their faces.
The soldier, who had been knocking, shoved him back into the shop. “By order of Lord Prasil and the Temple of Or’Keer, your shop and home are to be searched,” the man said loudly.
Before the other three men filed through, Harlow could see the people outside stop and stare just before the door shut again. “This is a mistake,” he protested. “I am a loyal servant of Or’Keer. I have done nothing wrong.”
The leader looked about the shop before settling his eyes back on Harlow. “Of course you haven’t, Master Harlow, at least not yet.”
Harlow froze, and his hand began creeping to the hidden dagger at his back. There was no way he could win against all four men with only the small blade, but he would not allow himself to be taken. The soldier reached for his waist, and Harlow tensed his muscles in preparation to launch an attack that would put the man down quickly. Instead of reaching for the sword sheathed at his hip, the soldier grabbed a rolled parchment tucked into his belt and handed it over. Confused, he took the offered parchment and unrolled it to find a sketched map.
“The captain wanted me to say that you are still a fool,” the soldier said, one corner of his mouth pulling up into a smirk. “That shows the lowest three levels of the temple, with places marked for cells and conversion chambers.” The soldier’s voice became somber when Harlow looked up from the map to meet his eyes. “I hope it helps.”
“It does,” Harlow said with a grim nod.
“And I’m sorry about this, but it was the only way we could get it to you quickly and without suspicion.”
He was about to ask what the soldier meant when the glass of one of his display cases shattered. Soon the other three soldiers were tearing his shop apart. Within moments the place was a wreck. Herbs and broken bottles were scattered across the floor and many of the displays frames were nothing more than splinters. He watched with a sense of loss, but knew his father’s shop was no longer of any importance when weighed against what they were to do.
“You should put that away,” the soldier said, indicating the map once they were finished.
Harlow rolled it back up and tucked it next to his dagger. When he looked up a
gain, all he saw was a meaty fist closing with his face followed by the throbbing pain in his jaw as he dropped to the ground, stunned. The soldiers opened the door and left, leaving it open for all those on the street. What they saw was Harlow bleeding from the mouth, but he doubted they noticed the upturned corner of his lips.
Chapter 10
The sun was only minutes away from dipping below the horizon, the fading light casting an orange light over Karadin. Even though the streets were already clearing, Keller could feel the tension in the air. Shops had closed early, and what few people remained hurried along at a quick pace. Up ahead, a man on a cart was leaning down to hand a soldier a slip of paper. The soldier glanced over it before handing it back and waving the man on. Keller looked to Prasil questioningly. He was not dressed in his normal clothing, silk now replaced with a steel breast plate and chainmail. A sword hung at his hip, and a full-faced helm was tucked under his arm.
“Certain exceptions were made to maintain order,” the lord of Karadin explained. “Much of the commerce in the city is done at night when it’s easier to transport wares. Otherwise, when the shops open tomorrow they will have less inventory, and if we maintain the curfew it will only get worse until they are bare.”
It made sense, and Keller was not here to make these people’s lives harder. Trade was what kept children fed and money coming into the treasuries. “Are all your men out?”
“Yes, and I have asked the temples for every priest they can spare to help.”
“We shall see if they complied,” Keller said looking forward again.
They were accompanied by Benkt, Taft, and with a full escort of twenty men marching behind them. He did not know what, if anything, would happen tonight, but felt it would be a dereliction of his responsibilities not to be out himself. With that in mind, he had decided to check in on their new prisoners to see if the priests in charge of their interrogation had made any progress. There was little chance that anything useful had been discovered yet, but it was better than waiting at Prasil’s estate or wandering the streets aimlessly. The steps leading up to the temple’s main atrium held more armed men than it had previously. He believed that there was almost no chance the traitors would dare to attack the stronghold of faith and power, but saw no harm in the extra protection. The escort of soldiers waited outside as they proceeded in. From the main hall, he took the lead heading down to the conversion chambers. The path was now so familiar that he no longer needed a guide. That familiarity was a bit disturbing, and he had to remind himself once more that what they were doing was necessary.