The Marenon Chronicles Collection

by Jason D. Morrow

  “Extraordinaire?”

  “Well, I like to think so,” he shrugged. “I’ve come across many things while hunting, but you can’t get better hunting grounds than around Hanzad.”

  “Been here a while?” Silas asked.

  “All my second life,” the man laughed heartily. “It’s been a lot of years now. Longer than most around here.”

  Silas considered this a moment. It had never occurred to him that many of the people in Hanzad might be new arrivals to Marenon. If the landmark that Jessup had whispered to him about was an older one then most people might not even know about it.

  “Maybe you could help me, Saul.”

  “Anything sir,” he nearly shouted.

  Silas held up a hand. “You gotta keep it quiet.”

  Saul placed a hand over his mouth sheepishly. “Sorry,” he whispered.

  “I’m looking for something called the root of dwelling. I honestly have no idea what or where it is, but someone like yourself that’s been around a while might know something about it.”

  Saul sat for a moment, seemingly racking his brain for the information Silas requested. Silas had all but given up on the man’s resourcefulness when his eyes turned bright and he looked up at Silas almost shouting out his next few words. “I know what you are looking for!”

  “Shhhh!” Silas said, looking around to see if anyone was paying attention. Most were too drunk or didn’t care.

  “I know of such a place,” he whispered. “No wonder you haven’t had any luck. It’s really old. There’s an ancient tree about a mile or so south of the city. Most people have never heard of it, but I’ve seen it a few times. I once asked a fellow hunter about it and he told me that it was once called the Dwelling Tree. It symbolized a place of life where people and creatures could live and dwell forever and ever in the forest’s richness. The root of dwelling could only mean you’re looking for something at the roots of the Dwelling Tree.”

  Silas couldn’t believe his ears. The luck of having run into someone with information about where they needed to go was simply splendid.

  “I would be happy to take you there,” Saul told him.

  “Why don’t you come meet my team?” Silas motioned him to the table where the others sat. He had Saul repeat to them the same information he had told Silas. They sat together and ate their food and when they were finished, Saul gathered his hunting bow and arrows and led them out of the pub. The sky was beginning to darken and the air was getting cooler. Night would be upon them quickly.

  Saul led them into the thick of the forest where it was dark already, and the tree frogs were beginning to belch choruses in sync with the crickets. When they came to the Dwelling Tree, Silas was a little disappointed in how short the thing actually was, but the trunk was at least ten feet wide. In all its years of living, it never seemed to be able to grow upward, just out. It grew no leaves like the other trees around it, but it wasn’t dead either. It was no surprise that no one knew what Silas and the others were talking about when they had asked. Silas wondered if its name had been pronounced too early and the name-giver had seen it in its lush youth, crowded with leaves and flowers.

  “This is it?” Lorcan asked with an eyebrow cocked.

  “Yep,” Saul declared. “It’s a beauty ain’t it?”

  “It’s something,” Silas said, walking around the thick base of the tree to inspect its trunk. “We’re looking for a root?”

  Before anyone could even answer Silas saw it. Between two roots stood a shovel and a mound of dirt. Next to the mound of dirt was a large hole in the ground leading to the base of the tree. The others stood behind him looking at the same thing. A door, built directly under the tree, stood cracked, ominously inviting anyone to enter if they dared. There was no doubt, this is where Jessup had wanted them to go, but someone else had gotten there first.

  Silas looked at Kaden. “We going in?”

  “We don’t really have a choice,” Kaden said.

  “Saul, you’ve been here before, any idea what’s down there?”

  The man shook his head. A look of wonder and excitement had been replaced with fear and hesitation. “First time seeing this,” he said.

  Silas took in a deep breath and nodded. “Ok. Let’s go then, shall we?”

  Saul shook his head. “I appreciate what you’re doing sir, I really do. You are the Meshulan and I would love nothing more than to help you with any problem, but I don’t really think going down there is the best idea for me. I think I might wait for you up here, is that alright?”

  Silas smiled. The man had done so much more for them than he would ever know, Silas was sure. “Thank you for everything, but you don’t have stay up here.” With that he patted the man on the arm, and Saul let out a shout, startling everyone.

  He lifted a hand to his face. “Sorry about that. It’s a recent hunting accident. Nothing serious. It just hurts real bad is all.”

  Each of them stood for a long, quiet moment. “I’ll be on my way,” Saul said, and he turned to leave.

  The open door below them was like the mouth of a lurking monster ready and willing to take them and devour them all. What lay ahead, none of them knew, but it was evident someone had been there first. This left them with a few scenarios to consider. Either the person before them had gone in and taken what he or she needed, died, or saw what was in there and took off running from it. In any case, uncertainty was their path, and that was always a dangerous one to follow.

  Chapter Eleven

  The sun was on its way down in Voelif when the guards finally left Coffman with his quartermaster Cecil. He learned that Cecil was a slave just like himself, but because of hard work and good behavior, he enjoyed certain perks that most slaves did not get. He was a scrawny little man without much muscle to do any sort of heavy lifting, but he could yell. Perhaps that was why he had been promoted.

  “Just don’t do anything stupid and do what I tell you, and neither of us will get beaten,” Cecil told him.

  “What exactly are we working on down here?” Coffman asked.

  “The Pyramid,” he answered. “It’s the structure that houses the Sphere. It’s a weapon of sorts. Hasn’t been tested out yet, though.”

  “What’s it supposed to do?”

  Cecil shook his head, leading him toward the Pyramid. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” Ignoring Coffman’s inquiry, he continued. “It’s like a big blue sphere of energy.”

  “What does it do?” Coffman asked again.

  “Yep. A big, stupid sphere.” Cecil shook his head again as though to bring himself from a daze and looked back at Coffman. “Better to not be standing around talking. They’ll beat us both.”

  Coffman’s eyes squinted at Cecil, who didn’t seem completely sane by the way he carried himself. He watched as he kept shouting out orders to other slaves, telling them to do certain things. Perhaps Cecil truly thought this was his job and that he needed to do it well. Had he forgotten that he was merely a slave to these people?

  At the approach of a group of Nestorian guards, Coffman pretended to be busy, lifting a heavy bag of rocks to take to the base of the structure. Once they passed, he dropped the bag and moved down a side pathway between a set of buildings. Security did not seem nearly as tight as Coffman would have made it if he were in charge. He also wondered if the slaves knew just how many more of them there were compared to the Nestorian guards. It would claim some lives, but an uprising was not out of the question. These people could free themselves. Why wouldn’t they?

  As he followed the pathway, he came to an opening with even more slaves, laboring, carrying things, working toward building the gigantic structure. He wanted to get closer to it. What was this sphere on the inside? Cecil said it was some sort of blue energy. What did that even mean? He made his way down, not gathering any sort of looks from others, which was good. How Alric and Nalani were going to get to the Medallion, he had no clue. This whole operation seemed way too big for the three of them to han
dle. He had thought that he would be able to find out some information among the slaves, but that didn’t seem like it was going to be a possibility. These slaves were cut off from any sort of information. The thought came to Coffman’s mind that perhaps Cecil didn’t even know what the Sphere was for and that he ignored Coffman because he didn’t want to seem like he didn’t know anything. Coffman finally decided he would let Nalani and Alric deal with the medallion on their own. He wanted to find out what this weapon was for. Then there was the matter of the Erellen prince. Was he just an average slave working on the structure? A person of such importance would have surely been recognized.

  As soon as the thought entered his head, he saw it. Across the road from the half-finished structure was another building with large stone pillars towering over a set of stairs leading to the entrance. Hanging from the archway above the stairs were five cages, big enough to only hold one person. Four of them were empty, while the one on the far left end seemed to be occupied. Coffman couldn’t really get a good look at who was in it, but his gut told him that he knew. He moved closer, trying to remain inconspicuous. In a normal crowd, he would have stuck out, but here most people kept their eyes on the ground and never looked up. The guards seemed too engaged in conversation to actually care about what was happening with the slaves until someone dropped something or fell over. They would then pull out their short sticks and beat them mercilessly. Coffman would use their inattention to his advantage as he casually moved toward the columned building.

  Once he was finally near the steps and could see into the cages, his suspicions were confirmed as he looked up into the cage. Daewyn Florelle.

  The prince sat in his cage, taking notice of no one as he bit his fingernail and whistled some tune unfitting for his surroundings. When he finally did look down, he jerked his head sideways in surprise.

  “Whoa there!” he said. “I’ve had a few people stare at me over the past couple of days, but you my friend are by far the biggest.”

  Coffman looked over his shoulder to see if anyone was paying him any attention. He was safe for the moment. “I’m here to get you out,” Coffman whispered.

  Daewyn pushed his nose between two of the bars in the cage. “Forgive me for not believing you. You wouldn’t be approaching me during the day if you were telling the truth.”

  Coffman waved him off. “I never said I have a plan. I know who you are. I saw your name on the list when I was brought in today. I know you’re the son of Jiaros Florelle. Which means you aren’t supposed to be tied up in a cage in enemy territory. ‘Find me, help me, right?”

  “You speak the Erellen tongue?” Daewyn seemed surprised. “I left that note in case any of my companions were picked up as well. I didn’t expect a Human to be able to understand it.”

  “I have an Erellen friend,” Coffman said.

  “Do you? You mean to say that my countrymen are out fraternizing with the Humans now? Please, tell me, who is this Erellen friend of yours?”

  “Lorcan Zamire,” Coffman answered.

  Daewyn’s eyes fell sharp on Coffman and his blond brow lowered. “I know of this Erellen.”

  “You do? That’s great!”

  Daewyn shook his head. “It’s not great. I don’t think I can accept your help.”

  This confused Coffman. How could Daewyn not want his help?

  “Lorcan Zamire is a wanted man in Elysium. He’s nothing more than a criminal!”

  Coffman scratched his head, not knowing what just happened. “What in the world are you talking about?”

  “You don’t know?”

  Coffman shook his head. “Obviously not.”

  “Your friend Lorcan never told you who he was?”

  Again, Coffman shook his head.

  Daewyn sighed. “I don’t suppose it would matter to you anyway.”

  “He’s my friend. Of course it matters.”

  Daewyn slumped back down against the cage, looking nowhere specifically. “I suppose you also don’t know that Lorcan was once selected to work as an advisor trainee under my father? That would have made him my close personal advisor whenever I become king, if I so choose. And I would have too. Lorcan was brilliant.”

  For a moment, Coffman wasn’t sure they were talking about the same Lorcan, but when Daewyn said something about Lorcan being worthless against the Stühocs, Coffman knew it was the same man. But how? Lorcan had never told him any of this.

  “To make a long story short, Lorcan did something terrible, fled Elysium, and will be punished should he ever return.”

  Coffman shook his head. “I don’t know anything about his relationship to the rest of the Erellen people. He’s never mentioned it.”

  “That’s not surprising,” Daewyn said.

  Coffman was about to ask what Lorcan could have done when the movement of an approaching guard hushed him. As Coffman began to walk away, he spoke over his shoulder.

  “I’ll find a way to get you out. The Meshulan has returned!”

  Daewyn shifted in his cage a bit as Coffman continued onward. “Meshulan what?” But Daewyn heard him correctly.

  *****

  Grif had been more than willing to give up the location of the Orange Medallion. He had looked at the two of them like they were idiots when Alric suggested that they steal it to have leverage. Nalani didn’t think going all in and telling a Nestorian their plans had been the best move on his part, but Alric told her several times that he had it under control. The disadvantage of not being able to speak was annoying. She was used to doing things her way, not allowing anyone but the council to question her. But all talking and apparently decision-making had to be made by Alric. She made sure to let him know how unhappy she was with the current plan.

  Grif told them that the location of the medallion was no secret. A Nestorian called General Mintuk held it under lock and key in a safe, and a guard stood watch near it at all times. It was near the center of the city in a tower that was hardly ever used by anyone, except some of the top commanders when there were meetings. This would be advantageous to Nalani and Alric since it didn’t seem likely there would be a meeting in the next few hours. The real action would be taking place whenever Anithistor marched in with his soldiers to oversee what was happening in Voelif. They would surely be holed up in that tower and the medallion would be untouchable. This would be their only chance to get to it.

  Night had fallen when the two of them made it to the tower, and it seemed cold and empty. Nalani was confident in their ability to subdue one guard, take the key and get the medallion, but something didn’t seem right. Was it really that simple? What if the guard didn’t have the key? Even so, it was worth a try, and they were out of options. They walked slowly through the front entrance of the tower; hands ready to draw their weapons should anyone come attacking. For all they knew, no Nestorian was allowed in the tower without proper clearance.

  The inside seemed much larger than the outside revealed. They walked through a massive dining hall with various tables and chairs scattered about, and the mess of drinks and stale food left unattended. The tower had the look of frequent use, but there was no one there right now. Nalani looked at Alric questioningly, but said nothing. They were both thinking it. Grif had said the place was barely used, yet it looked as though someone had just left. They walked to the other side, and Nalani spotted the stairwell that spiraled upward to the top.

  “This is the way,” she whispered.

  Alric nodded and followed close behind her. She had a bad feeling about this. Why would the medallion be left unguarded? Was it not as important to the Nestorians as it was to other people groups? The flight of stairs went on for a long time until it came to an abrupt end at a wooden door that stood half-opened. No forced entry, no fiddling with locks, this was too easy.

  She looked into the room. It was as large as the room on the bottom floor, but this one did not have the look of frequent use. There were tables, but they were empty. Only one was filled with large papers scattered abo
ut with figures strategically placed in various positions upon them. Maps. They were battle maps of Marenon. At least, this was Nalani’s first thought. She took a step forward with a quiet-but-ready Alric behind her. When she peeked around the other side of the door, she found no one else inside. The tower was empty.

  “This doesn’t look like a place you’d find the medallion,” Alric said.

  “Maybe we’ve caught a lucky break,” Nalani replied.

  “Maybe we’ve walked into a trap.”

  Ignoring the suggestion, Nalani made her way to the table of maps to have a closer look at what the Nestorians might be planning. Alric walked around the room scanning for the ‘guarded’ chest that held the medallion.

  Nalani’s attention immediately went to the map with the figurines scattered across the top of it. There were different colored pawns, each representing a specific group. The red figurines, which were spread out from Mudavé, represented the Stühocs; the Nestorians were blue and the Humans were yellow. The Anwyns and Erellens didn’t seem to be represented on the map, suggesting that perhaps they were not part of whatever plans were being made. What concerned Nalani the most was the sheer number of red figurines there were. Village after village had a red figurine set on top of it, suggesting that the Stühocs had either taken them over, or were planning to soon.

  Wouldn’t we have heard of this if they had taken control of so many villages?

  “There’s no chest,” Alric said, now standing next to her. “The little runt lied.”

  “Alric look at this,” she said, not taking her eyes from the map.

  Alric did as she said, but had no emotion behind his observation. “So what? They’re planning to attack. They always plan to attack.”

  “No but look,” she said pointing. “There’s a pattern. All the villages they want or have taken over are leading toward the same place.”

  Alric’s eyes widened as he noticed what she was saying. “Jekyll Rock.”