The Marenon Chronicles Collection

by Jason D. Morrow

  “I imagine you two will be wanting alone time,” Julian said.

  “We’ve the rest of our lives for that, thanks to you.”

  Julian glanced at Robin, hoping the man would help him with an excuse to leave, but he just shrugged. Thanks for the support, Julian thought.

  They left the prison and Daniel wouldn’t stop speaking. It was probably the most interaction he had in two years with someone who wasn’t a guard. As they walked out of the prison, Wilkes gave a kind nod and whispered an apology for threatening his life earlier behind the pub. Julian accepted it and they were on their way, back to Homestead.

  Julian and Robin nearly had to jog to keep up with Daniel. His excitement of finally being able to hold his wife without a set of bars between them had taken him over. The man couldn’t stop talking about his plans, how much he loved Martha, who Julian gathered was Daniel’s wife, and how good it was to finally get out of that disgusting prison. There was no way in the world Julian would be able to kill Daniel for the information. The man was as innocent and pure as any soul Julian had seen. To even consider the possibility of killing him for the memory orb was terrible.

  On the outskirts of the town, Julian and Robin stood by silently as the homecoming played out. Daniel and Martha hugged, kissed, cried and thanked Julian over and over without stopping. When they had finally calmed from their surprise and elation, the couple invited Julian and Robin inside for hot drinks while Martha began preparing a warm meal at once. Julian protested several times, but neither Martha nor Daniel would hear it. Daniel had been freed and that was all that mattered. After the excitement and disbelief began to dissipate, Daniel’s face became hardened and he turned to Julian.

  “Do you know why I was imprisoned?”

  Julian shook his head, not fully knowing why Daniel had been chosen for such a fate. “I wish I did,” he answered. “Did you ever do anything deserving of imprisonment?”

  Daniel shook his head vigorously, but Martha was the one to answer. “Of course he didn’t. Some men came during dinner and placed him under arrest,” she said as she stirred the pot in front of her. “Next time I saw him, he was in the prison and we were never told why.”

  “They took me to a cave in the forest,” Daniel said. “I don’t know where exactly. They drugged me, so I was out of it. I suppose I was there for about three days or so, but I can’t really say. Next thing I know, I wake up in a jail cell and I have this scar on my chest.”

  “Do you know what that is?” Julian asked.

  “No idea. I woke up and it hurt like something awful. I’ve had chest pains ever since then, though.”

  Julian glanced at Robin. He wasn’t sure if he should let the man know what had happened to him or leave him in the dark. Would there be a point in telling him that there was a memory orb attached to his heart? That it contained valuable information that could help in the war against the Stühocs, but the only way to get it would be to kill him? Julian shook the thought from his head. Of course it would do no good to tell him. There was nothing to be done. Telling him would only burden the man with information he didn’t need. He needed to enjoy the freedom that had been stolen from him. The search for proof was finished. Now his only option left would be to question the Dunarian Council individually, but he knew it would produce no results. Maybe it was time to finally cut off all ties with the Dunarians and focus on a campaign with Canor and Farlaweer against the Stühocs. The Dunarians would have been a valuable asset, but with the possibility of betrayal, he couldn’t afford to trust them. Not now since the proof was unreachable.

  They ate their meal, letting Martha and Daniel do most of the talking. Martha mostly filled Daniel in on what was happening around Homestead, and Julian was content to sit back and listen. He had not been able to sit and enjoy a meal for a long time. He noticed that Robin seemed happy to be there as well, but in their fleeting moments of contentment, Julian knew it had to end.

  He stood and Robin did the same. “I’m afraid we won’t be able to stay any longer,” Julian said. He held up a hand before any more protest could be made. “I appreciate all you’ve done, I really do, but we must be on our way. We have very important things to look after in Farlaweer.”

  Daniel nodded solemnly. “I’ll walk you out.”

  When they walked out of the house, Julian turned to Daniel to say his farewell, but shouts and a bell in the distance interrupted them.

  “That’s the warning bell!” Martha cried out. “Something’s wrong.”

  Indeed something was wrong. A crowd had gathered in the town square surrounding two individuals. Robin gave a warning look to Julian as if to say it wasn’t their problem and that they needed to go, but Robin didn’t have the authority to tell the king such a thing.

  “Let’s go see what’s happening,” Julian said, giving a slight wink to Robin.

  The four of them raced to the city square, and when they got there, they could see a woman slumped to the ground and a man holding on to her shoulders, both of them out of breath.

  “How long before they get here?” a shout came from the crowd.

  The man shook his head. “Could be days, could be hours. All I know is that you need to get your people out of here and move them up north toward Farlaweer.”

  Daniel tapped the shoulder of a man in front of him and asked what had been announced.

  “Stühocs on a warpath,” the man said. “Headed this way apparently.”

  Daniel gave a worried look to Martha, then to Julian.

  “My name is Dink, and this is my wife Emma,” the man in the center said. “We are from a smaller village just south of here and they nearly wiped us out. They took some as prisoners, but they killed the rest.”

  “What do they want with prisoners?” a shout came from the crowd.

  “I don’t know,” Dink said. “But you don’t have time to figure anything out, you have to leave here!”

  “Wait!” The shout came from Daniel. “We don’t need to flee!”

  Julian’s face drained of blood as he realized what Daniel was about to say. He tried to stop him, but was only able to say his name before he announced, “We have the king with us. He can send for soldiers. We can defend Homestead.” He pointed a finger at Julian and all eyes fell on him.

  “You’re Julian Hobbes?” a voice said.

  Reluctantly, Julian nodded. “I am.”

  “Can you get us soldiers?”

  Julian looked at Robin, knowing what had to come next. Politically, Julian could not leave these people to fend for themselves. They would hate him for it. He had to fight.

  “I’ve got the Royal Guard waiting for me, not one mile away. Rally all who can fight and begin fortifying Homestead,” Julian said. He looked at Robin, knowing they had put themselves in the wrong place at the wrong time. Robin stared back, showing only caution in his eyes. Julian had known about small raids being made by the Stühocs on a few villages, but he had no idea they were this serious. It was time to deal with the Stühocs on his own terms.

  “Today we show the Stühocs that the people of Marenon will not be enslaved. Today we fight!”

  Chapter Nine

  “How are we going to find Coffman later?” Nalani asked in a low voice.

  Alric shook his head, but spoke confidently. “We’ll find him. He knows his job, and he knows ours. We just have to worry about the medallion for now.”

  Nalani couldn’t believe the number of slaves before them. Thousands, not hundreds, labored to build the huge structure that looked like a pyramid. Nalani and Alric wondered at the purpose of this new building project. They both tried to find a clue from the surroundings to surmise what it could be, but there was no point in trying to guess on their own.

  The two of them walked through the city streets, unsure of where to start. They knew they needed to find out where the medallion could be hidden, but there was a lot more going on in Voelif than they had originally expected. The city was crowded and bustling with individuals hard at work
, with most of the people focused on the massive structure at the city center. The majority of Nestorians wouldn’t know about the orange medallion, much less be able to tell them the location. Perhaps the giant structure would be the key in finding it. The building was obviously significant, and Nestorian Officials would most likely be in charge of such a project. With the presence of important people would come special knowledge. Finding out the structure’s purpose was the first step. When Nalani told this to Alric, he agreed. They walked for a while until Alric stopped at a pub.

  “Why here?” she asked him.

  “In my experience, people are a lot more willing to talk and a lot less willing to question your motives when they’re drunk,” he said. “And in a busy place like this, there’s always a drunk ready to give away free information, no matter what time of day.”

  He opened the door, but Nalani reached out to his arm to stop him momentarily. “Just remember that I can’t talk, ok?”

  “Right,” he said. “I won’t let it happen again.”

  They walked into the pub not knowing exactly what they would find. Did Nestorians take off their masks when they were inside? This would prove to be a problem for them both if this were the case. Much to their relief, no one on the inside had taken off his or her mask. All the drinks were sipped through some sort of straw to accommodate the mask. Most of the Nestorians looked identical. Nalani wasn’t sure how any of them distinguished themselves from another. There were subtle variances among some of the masks. Some had special markings, probably to display accomplishments they may have made in their career, or perhaps to show at least a little style. She didn’t know.

  The pub seemed hotter than the outside had been. The rank smell of sweat and dust, and ale permeated the pub. The humid air made it hard to breathe and she could feel sweat begin to trickle down her back.

  “What exactly are we looking for?” she asked Alric.

  “The drunkest person here,” he said.

  As if on cue, a Nestorian caught both of their attention as he began swaying back and forth, singing at the top of his lungs. Occasionally he would yell out a profanity and then say something about the stinking Stühocs. This was their man.

  Nalani and Alric glanced at each other and nodded. As they moved closer to the Nestorian’s booth, he started to quiet himself, squinting his eyes at the approaching couple.

  “I’ve got no apology for any of you!” he said, slurring his words.

  “Drunk in the middle of the day isn’t going to get us anywhere is it?” Alric said.

  “Don’t wanna go anywhere,” the Nestorian retorted. “I just wanna drink.”

  Alric motioned to the bartender to ask for a refill of the Nestorian’s drink. “That’s kind of you,” the Nestorian said, and when the drink came, he slurped through the straw until there wasn’t a drop left. Nalani felt that the Nestorian would be too drunk to be of any help, but then again, maybe this was exactly what he needed. More alcohol.

  “What’s you’re name, friend?” Alric asked him.

  “Grif!” he proclaimed. “That’s what they call me.”

  “Well Grif, why aren’t you out helping with the building at the city’s center?”

  “What building?”

  They both sat in silence. It was a building wasn’t it? Grif sat thinking for a moment, then an eyebrow cocked. “You mean the Pyramid? The building that holds the Sphere?”

  Nalani’s eyebrows furrowed, although the mask concealed it. The Sphere?

  Alric hesitated a moment, but nodded. “Yes. Why aren’t you working with it?”

  “Not my department,” Grif said. “I deal with foreign relations. It’s a fancy term for accommodating the Stühocs when they come for their visits.” He ended the sentence with a snarl, almost as though he was ready to vomit.

  “Not happy with the alliance?” Alric asked.

  Grif’s eyes narrowed behind the mask, studying Alric then pointed a thumb at Nalani. “Does he talk?”

  “Nope,” Alric said. “Mute. Hasn’t spoken since he was eleven. Handy worker though.”

  Grif nodded, but kept his eyes on Nalani, obviously suspicious. “I don’t talk about Stühocs and Nestorian business with people I don’t know. An easy way to get me in trouble.”

  “I understand that,” Alric said, motioning for another drink. Grif accepted it graciously.

  They listened to Grif talk about nothing in particular for the next couple of minutes while he finished his drink. Nalani felt they were wasting their time. Alric eventually came back to the important questions. She gave him a warning stare, letting him know that he shouldn’t press too hard. The Nestorian may not remember the conversation tomorrow, but he could still cause the two of them a lot of trouble if this wasn’t done right.

  “How often do the Stühocs come in to Voelif?” Alric dared to ask.

  “Too often,” Grif answered. “I just found out there’s a big group coming in the next few days to inspect the production. This might be the big one too. I hear Anithistor himself might even show up.”

  Anithistor! Nalani had to fight to contain herself. This could not be good. If he was overseeing production of this Sphere, then that meant it was something extremely significant. Was it a weapon? How could it benefit the Stühocs? This made getting the medallion that much more important. If the Stühocs and Nestorians were developing something powerful, then the Humans wouldn’t stand a chance without having all the medallions. They needed all six medallions in order to defeat the Nestorians and Stühocs for good.

  She nudged Alric in the ribs and motioned her head behind them. He nodded and told Grif they would be right back. He was too drunk to care.

  “What is it?” Alric asked when they were out of earshot.

  “This is huge,” Nalani said. “We need to find out what the Sphere is. I guarantee whoever is overseeing it will have the medallion. If Anithistor is coming in, that means we’re running out of time. Let’s get to the bottom of this quickly.”

  “I’m doing what I can,” he said. “I’m about to throw this mask against the wall, it’s so stinking hot in here.”

  Nalani suppressed a laugh and they made their way back to the table. Alric got straight to the point.

  “I’m starting a taskforce,” he said. This got no reaction from Grif. Alric swallowed and continued. “I don’t think the Stühocs should be here. I don’t think you want them here either.”

  Grif looked up, now alert. “You’re not the secret police or anything are you?”

  “If we were the police, we wouldn’t tell you would we?”

  Grif stared blankly for a moment then burst out in laughter. After a moment he asked, “What is this taskforce of yours?”

  “Anti-Stühoc taskforce,” Alric said. “And we need your help, Grif. We don’t think the Nestorian people should allow ourselves to be weakened by relying on the Stühocs. The Stühocs want nothing more than to take over. They’re just using us.”

  “Some would argue that having them has helped us grow.”

  “Yes, but have you seen the number of slaves they’ve brought out here?” Alric said. “They far outnumber us. If they ever got the inclination, they could overrun us. We need to focus on what we want to accomplish. Not what the Stühocs want.”

  “I agree wholeheartedly,” Grif said. “Talk like this isn’t usually tolerated, you know. You could get yourself killed.”

  “That’s why I came to you,” Alric said. “I know your allegiance. I’ve been studying you for months now. You’re the one to help us.”

  Nalani couldn’t help be amazed at Alric’s genius. He almost had her believing him. His ability as a con artist shone through in that moment and she would not forget this. The Dunarian Council could use an asset like Alric.

  Grif considered Alric’s words carefully. Then he nodded. “You’re right,” he said. “I am the right man for the job. I just don’t know how to do it. I don’t know how to stop what’s happening.”

  “Leverage,” Alri
c said. “You need leverage.”

  “What do I have that they would want?”

  “You don’t now,” Alric answered. “But if you point me in the right direction I can help you get it.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Who carries the orange medallion?” Alric asked.

  *****

  When Coffman awoke, he felt like someone had dropped a boulder on his head. Everything had happened so quickly. He remembered Nalani attacking him and then a group of guards had knocked him out. The room where he sat was dark, soundless and bare. The pounding in his head was unnerving, and it was everything he could do to keep his stomach from heaving out everything he had eaten that day. He let out a sigh, knowing that this had been the only way to proceed with their mission. He hoped Nalani and Alric would find out something about the medallion. He wasn’t sure what he could do from this end. The slaves had far outnumbered the predicted amount, which might be good for keeping a low profile, but bad for obtaining information. With such a large group of people it would be difficult to find anyone with useful information. He sat up and leaned his large frame against the wall opposite the door and rubbed the side of his head. He hadn’t been stuck in a jail cell since his life on Earth. He had no desire to be in one back then and certainly no desire to be in one now.

  He was jerked from his thoughts when he heard a rattling of keys at the door. He jumped to his feet as the door swung open, causing his head to swim in pain. At the door stood two Nestorian guards with their sticks ready to subdue the giant man should he decide to fight again.

  “You’re going to come with us,” one of the masked guards said. “Don’t make any kind of sudden movement.”

  Coffman didn’t doubt his ability to take on two measly little guards with sticks. Back in the city, earlier today, he had been subdued because Nalani had caught him by surprise, and then four guards were on top of him. But fighting now would not help him get information about the medallion, nor would it help him get out of the city when it was time to leave. He put his hands in the air and walked toward the door. One guard stepped behind him while the other led the way past a long line of cells and through another corridor. In a few moments they stood in a room with several more guards and one Nestorian man sitting at a table. The room was filled with books and what looked to be important papers. The man at the table looked up at Coffman. Maybe he grinned, maybe he scowled, Coffman couldn’t tell with the mask.