Chapter Seven - A Stolen Peek
Pershara-Pershara Palace
The sky above looked as if it was covered with great big pillows. Pockets of azure glanced fleetingly through occasionally. The sun was only acknowledged to exist today because it was lighter than nighttime. Ryan looked back to the task of finding his next finger hold. The gloves he wore were specially designed to assist in sticking to a wall, much like the lizards found in the southern marshes. Ryan often found that they came in handy. Especially now that they were needed so badly.
The rebel army needed more information to know what their enemies were up too. That meant they needed more ambitious eyes within the palace than the assets they already had. Tommy and Ryan decided that they would the best eyes for this particular mission. Both were highly skilled in the required arts. There was also the simple fact that if the two of them went then the rebel leaders needn't worry about the possible spies within the Guild being given the chance to interfere.
Some individuals would probably wonder why he and the Director were scaling the palace wall in broad (well, as broad as a cloudy day could be considered) daylight. The answer was simple: Who in their right mind would expect it? And, unless people had a vested interest, no one ever looked up. When Ryan had suggested the plan at the meeting, the other rebel leaders had stared at him in shock. Only Tommy thought it held some merit before Ryan had explained it. That was not too surprising to Ryan since the Director thought similar to how he did. Ryan had mused that Bendon would have also understood the idea since the wizard's mind was often as mischievous as a thief's. Then there was the fact that he and Bendon were… well closer than some would believe. Unfortunately the wizard had been closeted away with his friend Robert since the time when Ryan had Seen that his beloved was in Arathin. No one had seen the two for more than a brief moment in passing.
Ryan tilted his head side to side relieving the tension in his neck before glancing down. Another thing people would think was a ‘no-no’, but heights didn’t bother Ryan much. A man-length down was Tommy. The lanky blond haired man looked up from finding his next foothold. “Not much farther.” Ryan softly answered the other man’s silent question. And it truly wasn’t too far to the window that was their goal. Moments later found Ryan peeking through the window. All he saw were the shadowy shapes of crates, bolts of fabric, candles, and, most importantly, no people. With an inquisitive touch, Ryan tapped the pane. As he assumed it bounced free of its sill enough for Ryan to pry it open. Ryan grinned, he really did love this city. Upper story windows were never locked. Especially if they were over three stories high. Once open, Ryan waited to see if he heard any movement within, but the upper storage room remained silent. Ryan slipped through the window. Not long after Tommy also slipped in. The two then pocketed their climbing gear and donned the palace servant clothing that one of their inside people had said was stored there.
Once garbed appropriately, the two thieves slipped into the hall. Tommy took point since he had some experience with traversing the palace maze. The king had chosen to live in the royal suit that his nephew and his queen had lived in. Politically it showed his confidence in his hold on the throne and in his power. Tommy had often wondered if he had done it to bask in his nephew's demise.
Even though it had been some time since he had last wondered the halls, Tommy remembered how to find the king's study. Another reason why the two had decided to come during the day were the many meetings that the king would have to attend. As they had assumed, the study was empty. Closing the door softly behind them, the two men nodded to each other before gliding about the room. Tommy went straight for the king's desk while Ryan searched through the bookshelves.
Tommy rifled through the king's papers. His eyes scanned over each, filing the important details away to report to the others. Finding nothing of interest in the bookshelves, Ryan began testing for secret drawers or cabinets. That also proving fruitless,he turned to Tommy.
"Anything interesting?" Ryan asked softly.
Tommy glanced up from resettling the papers how he had found them on the King's desk. "Only proof that the king is truly a puppet because there is absolutely nothing about future plans."
Ryan snorted before moving to the fireplace as Tommy checked the drawers of the desk for any secret compartments. His discerning gaze and searching fingers came away with nothing. Apparently Raymond only believed in having a desk be exactly what it was. Meanwhile Ryan sifted through the ash in the fireplace. There were some warm coals but his skill with fire kept them from bothering him. The dying coals flickered when they sensed his touch. Fire recognized its own after all. The weak flames told him that the king often sat at his desk and wrote many letters to himself. He would then take what he had just written and sealed and threw it into the flame's hungry grasp.
Behind him, Ryan heard the Director make a sound of disgust. "Surely the man wrote something down."
"He did." Ryan said glancing over his shoulder.
Tommy frowned as he climbed out from under the desk. "And how do you know that?" Tilting his head he asked "did you have a vision?"
Ryan shook his head and pulled his hand from the coals. He quickly tucked his hand into his pocket. The last tongue of flame curled in his closed fist.
Tommy gave him a quizzical look. "Then how do you know? Find something in the fireplace?"
Ryan stood and replied calmly "the fire often sees the king scribble his thoughts before giving them to the flames. They know our dear puppet king's inner most thoughts."
Tommy's brows rose. "And that isn't disturbing at all. You somehow can speak to fire?" Another secret of Ryan's had come to light. It, of course because this was Ryan, only added more questions.
Ryan shrugged and turned to the door. Instead of answering he said "The king is under the impression that his puppeteers will use him as bait for the rebels. He is uneasy." The two picked up the rest of their disguise that consisted of rags before slipping out of the door again.
"Did he use the word 'puppeteer'?" Tommy asked,"Because if he did he is more knowledgeable of his position then I had given him credit for."
Ryan raised an eyebrow. He had been under the impression that the Director would question him more on what he had said about talking to fire. He was glad Tommy refrained because it gave him more time to figure out how to answer him.
"He didn't use that word exactly." Ryan answered Tommy's question. "He mentioned his 'benefactors' and, more telling, 'the Dark'."
"Dark Kin?" Tommy asked softly.
Ryan nodded. "It would make sense. He also admitted that he thinks they are finished with him. They already got rid of the Sorceress. He fears that he is next."
Tommy turned to him sharply. "Altana is gone?"
'So it would seem."
"YOU THERE!" A voice called from just behind them. The two turned to see a bald, elderly man. He was short. Much, much shorter than Tommy. Even a couple inches shorter than Ryan. But somehow, the man still managed to look down his nose at them by tilting his face up to accomplish the task. Ryan and Tommy both knew from reports that this man was the head of the servants. Both thieves looked toward the ground.
Ryan flicked his eyes up briefly to see the man glowering at them. "Sir?" He inquired.
"What were you two doing in the king's study?" The man demanded.
Tommy nervously raised the cloths he held. "Cleaning sir."
The man snorted derisively. "I don't believe you. Don't you idiots know that his study was cleaned earlier?"
"We were just making sure that it had been done properly, sir." Ryan replied.
"Is that so?" When the two nodded the man narrowed his eyes, but he waved them on. "Be on your way then. And don't let me catch you around the King's Study again."
"Yes sir." The two mumbled as they scurried past him. Ryan felt the man's eyes on them until they went around a corner.
"I don't think he believed a word we said." Ryan whispered.
Tommy smirked. "Want to bet
he will call the guards in a second?"
"Not really because I think you will win." Sure enough, not a breath after Ryan's comment, they heard the man's voice calling the guards. Ryan quickened his pace to a door farther down the hall. It wasn't unlocked, but Ryan quickly picked it open. He and Tommy slipped in and closed the door just as they heard the guards' footsteps. Ryan softly relocked the door knowing that the guards' own footsteps would cover any sound the lock made.
Tommy meanwhile scanned the room they had entered. It was another office, though not as outwardly posh as the king's. After a brief survey of the papers on the desk Tommy looked up at his companion who was listening to the sounds in the hallway. "Ryan, this is Proconsul Salvo's office."
Ryan grinned "Well now, we will probably actually find something here." With that he started to walk about the walls searching for anything of interest. Coming to a section of the wall, Ryan's steps faltered. He frowned at the wall tilting his head. "Director, I think I found something."
Tommy replaced the papers as he had found them before joining Ryan. "It looks like a blank wall to me." He observed.
Ryan shook his head. "No... there is something..." Ryan reached forward. Instead of touching a stone wall his hand disappeared. Raising an eyebrow at Tommy he took a step into the wall that truly wasn't there. Tommy placed a hand on his shoulder and followed him through.
On the other side of the none existent wall was another office. An office that made both men feel ill. The stone floor and walls were black. Torches of sickly green light barely alleviated the darkness. Dully illuminated runes gave off an aura of despair and helplessness. There were several black bookcases laden with ancient tomes, glass vials, and the skulls of humans and other things as well. The dark basalt fireplace housed flames that twisted into shapes that poorly mimicked people. There was also a dark lacquered desk covered with charts and implements. A fat tome also occupied a spot.
Both men shivered in the presence of so much that was obviously evil in nature. "I think we now have proof that the proconsul is a servant of the Darkness. Let's leave." Tommy said backing away toward the not so evil room they had just come from. Ryan had to admit that he didn't like being in the room either. Tommy swore.
"What is it?" Ryan asked.
"We have a problem. The wall is solid."
Frowning Ryan pushed against the wall. Perhaps it only responded to those with magic... No such luck. The solid wall remained exactly that. A solid wall of stone. "Well that makes a good back up security plan. Whoever gets inside can't leave until they are dealt with." Catching Tommy's glare he said "what? I didn't know it would happen. Nor did I know what was on this side."
"How do we get out?"
Biting his lip Ryan thought for a moment. "I think I may have a way, but let’s look around first."
Tommy looked around uneasily. "Alright."
Not trusting anything in the room, the two stayed together. They approached the desk with the single open tome. Not touching anything they noticed that just about everything was written in Old Arathin. The only things Tommy could read were a date that was about two months in the future. Out of the corner of his eye, Tommy saw Ryan pale.
"I'm going to guess that nothing here is good news." Tommy muttered softly.
Ryan slowly turned wide golden eyes to Tommy and whispered "No good. Just bad and worse. In two month's time the Child of Darkness will be born. Sir, the Child will be just a husk for The Lord of Shadows. To make sure the binding is stable and complete, there is going to be a sacrifice. The soul of a dragon is needed."
Tommy's own eyes widened. The soul of a dragon...? Kindra! his panicked thoughts screamed. "We need to leave now and warn everyone." He hissed. As Ryan looked about the room Tommy felt even colder. Kindra had a dragon soul. She was also within the city. But she was not in this room. Ryan was. And there was a very real chance that Ryan was also a dragon. "We need to get out." Tommy repeated.
"Agreed." Ryan responded softly. "I think there is a third level to security here... we are not alone..."
Tommy flicked his own gaze about the room. He could see something moving about, but he couldn't tell what it was. Just movement and the feeling that he was the mouse to some unknown cat. Suddenly. Ryan grunted and doubled over.
"Ryan?!" Tommy said reaching for his dagger glancing between the movement and Ryan.
Ryan swore before responding. "The proconsul is returning. It is way past time to leave since whatever is in here will torture us until its master returns." Glad they were on the same page, Tommy watched Ryan pull his left hand out of his pocket. That hand had been in that pocket since they had left the king's study. Ryan fed, and then tossed the flame that was in his hand to the ground. It flared tall. "Let's go, Director." Ryan said grasping the wide eyed Tommy and dragging him into the flames. The last Tommy saw of the dark office was darkness surrounding the golden flames.
Chapter Eight- Nothing Without Secrets
Pershara- Riverdale
Duncan eyed the tents around him as he and the Father Superior made their way to the command tent of the neighboring King’s Guard. Both monks wore the humble brown robes of their order. The younger knight kept tabs on the soldiers around them. The Guard did the same. Of the twenty or so men, many looked uneasy which made Duncan wonder why. Were they afraid of the Grimedian knights? Duncan had nothing against others having respect for the Order that he was a part of. He had gotten use to some hating the Order, but then those he was thinking of were servants of the Dark Kin. But he had never seen uneasy fear from people before. The Order was made up of honorable men who served God. They were not berserkers running through town with their swords drawn. Which made Duncan wonder, what had happened to make the Guard feel so?
“Ah, Father, good evening to you.” The man said sitting in the chair just outside the command tent. He stood when the two monks came near. He looked to be about Duncan’s age, but with more of a stomach. His gray eyes held respect for the older of the two monks. Over the last few months the two had become good acquaintances. He looked curiously at the blond monk beside Father Thomas.
“Greetings, my son.” Father Thomas said warmly. “May I introduce my companion Duncan? Duncan, this is Sergeant T’Serol.” The two men nodded to each other before the sergeant opened the tent flap and gestured the monks inside.
After some more pleasant talk Father Thomas and the sergeant discussed the possibility of allowing the townspeople to visit the monastery for religious reasons. The two settled instead on allowing two monks, under guard, to visit the townspeople instead. Nodding his head in agreement of the compromise Father Thomas continued in a slightly different vein. “My son, I am curious to know what your men are doing in the forest at night.”
T’Serol frowned and said. “I am afraid that I do not know of what you speak.”
“The lights.” Father Thomas replied. “My monks and I have seen these strange lights moving about in the wood. I thought perhaps they were your men patrolling.”
“When?” T’Serol asked in a tense tone.
Father Thomas shrugged. “Throughout the whole night. Though mostly between the midnight and early morning hours. And all over the region that one can see from the monastery’s walls.”
As the good father talked, the sergeant looked more and more uncomfortable. Duncan looked between the two. What was Father Thomas talking about? And if it was the Guard, why was the sergeant uncomfortable. Either the man was an incredible actor who for whatever reason felt that denying the Guard’s activities was the best course of action. Or there was the possibility that the lights were not from the King’s Guard’s activities.
“We have a patrol, but we thought the lights were your doing.” The sergeant admitted. “I’m assuming that you are also going to say that you are not responsible for moving things around in camp? Or the sounds?”
Father Thomas frowned. “No. We have stayed within our walls as you have told us.” In a more thoughtful tone he continued “I wonder if it has
anything to do with the monastery’s foundations?”
“What does that have to do with anything?” T’Serol asked.
“It might not, my son. It was just a thought. The monastery is old, but the site is even older. There are histories written that mention an ancient and spiritual significance about the site. It is a mystery that has remained to this day.”
Both Duncan and T’Serol stared at Father Thomas. Yes, Duncan had heard the uncanny stories about the monastery and the lands around it, but those were only stories told to children about a camp fire. It wasn’t something to discuss with any seriousness to a soldier whose orders were to keep you under house arrest. Before anything else could be said a voice asked for permission to enter.
“Just a minute, gentlemen.” T’Serol said before calling for the voice to enter. The man who entered wore the garb of a King’s Guard messenger. Breathing hard the man saluted. T’Serol saluted back. The man then reached into his message satchel and handed T’Serol a message tube. T’Serol nodded his thanks before dismissing the man to food and rest. He then opened the tube and looked over the message within. His face became grim. He glanced up at the two monks. “I think it is time that you two to head back now.”
Duncan and Father Thomas traded a look at the abrupt dismissal, but Father Thomas nodded and stood. Duncan followed his example. T’Serol held open the tent flap for them.
From the shadows, Corporal Gregier watched the two monks leave. He then entered the command tent. The sergeant was reading the missive that he had just received. Gregier had just finished interviewing the messenger for any news on the message. The man had said that it contained orders straight from the king and that General T’nere had given them to him. Gregier smiled knowing exactly what the orders were. After all, he had gotten the warning from his masters in the special journal he carried. The question was, would his commanding officer have the proper reaction to the new orders. That of course being immediate acquiescence and the following of those orders.
The Three Swords (The Ways of Mages) Page 6