The Sentient Fire (The Seven Signs)

by D. W. Hawkins

  “Thanks,” said Dormael dryly, “we were never here, alright?” He slid her gold this time and she widened her eyes greedily, and then bowed her head with a huge smile on her face. Dormael and D’Jenn drained their tankards, and then got up to leave the bar. Dormael took one more look around the common room on the hope that one of the girls would be there, but it appeared they were all up in their rooms. He loved to look at pretty women.

  Stepping out into the street, D’Jenn led Dormael into a side alley away from the docks. They trudged up the small alley until it crossed another street, and then looked around to make sure no one was listening. Satisfied that they were alone, the two began to talk.

  “So we were right. It is military after all, but why would they be chasing her?” asked D’Jenn, appearing perplexed.

  “Don’t know, but the idea that she is some thief or criminal is ludicrous. She’s no more a criminal than I am. Well…less than I am, anyway,” Dormael replied. D’Jenn smiled at his quip.

  “None of this makes any sense, coz. That drunk told us that these guys were some kind of elite soldier. What are they doing here, and why isn’t the Lord of Ferolan doing anything about them?” D’Jenn asked, shaking his head.

  “Well, there’s only one way to find out, D’Jenn. The barmaid said that if anyone saw anything they needed to go up to the castle. They must be staying there, in the Lord’s March, probably ‘honored guests’ or some such nonsense. We have to get in there,” said Dormael.

  “Oh, and what are supposed to do, coz? Walk right up and ask to be let in? Tell them we want a chat with the Galanians?” asked D’Jenn sarcastically.

  “My dear cousin,” said Dormael dramatically, “we sneak in, of course. It shouldn’t be hard for someone with our particular talents. You’ve done it before, in Thardin if I remember correctly.”

  “Yes, well that was for an assignment.”

  “This is just as important, coz. It might as well be an assignment. Risk comes with the job, remember? That’s what they told us when we decided to do field work,” Dormael said, winking at his cousin.

  “Fine. But we have to wait until nightfall,” D’Jenn agreed, “what are you going to tell Alton?”

  Dormael sighed at this, wondering himself what he would say. He didn’t know how Alton would react to their plan, but keeping that sort of secret from him could blow up in their faces. Besides, he deserved to know what had happened to Shawna.

  “The truth, for once. The truth about everything,” Dormael said.

  “Everything?”

  “Everything,” Dormael nodded at him. D’Jenn raised his eyebrows and shrugged his shoulders, but in the end nodded his agreement.

  “We should get back then,” said D’Jenn finally, and Dormael nodded back. The two men turned and began the long uphill walk back to the Merchant’s District. Over the whole long trek, the Lord’s March and Ferolan Castle loomed menacingly above them, and Dormael couldn’t help staring at it. It was going to be tough getting in there unseen. Glancing over at his cousin, Dormael saw D’Jenn staring at it as well, and knew he was probably thinking the same thing.

  ****

  “Galanians,” Alton stated dejectedly, “what would the Galanians want with Shawna? She’s never even been inside their borders.”

  Dormael and D’Jenn had returned from their trip just before noon and found Alton in his study. Lyssa had brought them all lunch, and the three men had eaten heartily and now sat in the three chairs closeted in Alton’s study with him. They were drinking slowly from three frothy tankards of ale and the cousins were recounting their story to Alton, who was staring gravely into his cup.

  “It gets worse,” said Dormael, “they’re spreading around a rumor that Shawna is some sort of criminal from the Empire, though we’re not sure what crime they’re accusing her of. They have a fairly good description of her, to: ‘a redheaded girl wearing two swords’. There can’t be many redheaded swordswomen running around.”

  “It appears that the City Guard is allowing them a free hand, as well,” added D’Jenn, “they beat up some poor chap last night down on Whiskey Row, and he said they had Guardsmen with them. They didn’t even raise a finger to help him.”

  “Eric must be getting paid, then,” Alton said disgustingly, rubbing his chin, “He’s the Lord of Ferolan. I had heard that he was little better than a greedy sycophant, but a cunning one. It’s the only explanation, short of outright treason, but gold is usually involved in treason as well. If he is being paid, then the gold can only be coming from…”

  “Dargorin,” they all said in unison.

  “It’s perplexing, though,” said D’Jenn, “What would the Emperor of Galania want with your cousin? What is it about her that has an entire troop of soldiers after her, if she’s never been down there?”

  “Maybe he’s just trying to gain her hand,” joked Dormael, “you know; courting-by-force.”

  “That’s not funny, Dormael,” Alton said with a pained look at him. Dormael just winked back.

  “In any case, I am now assuming the worst about her family. Her father would never let this happen to her if he was alive. He must be dead,” Alton said, shaking his head.

  “Don’t jump to conclusions about that,” D’Jenn said consolingly, “He could be captured, a prisoner of these soldiers.”

  Alton nodded, but did not look convinced.

  “We’ve come up with a plan, Alton. Are we all in agreement that we need to know more?” Dormael asked, looking at both men. They nodded back at him. “Good. Well, tonight D’Jenn and I are going to sneak into Ferolan Castle and find out as much as we can.”

  “What!?” Alton whispered harshly, leaning forward, “You’re out of your mind, Dormael! If you’re caught you’ll be put to death, and that’s not to mention that they’ll torture the reason why you did it out of you, and come looking for me! We’ll all be jailed or dead, and Shawna will be in the hands of the Galanians. What makes you think you can even get in?”

  D’Jenn put a cautionary arm on his cousin’s shoulder. Alton did not realize that he had just insulted Dormael at the mention that he would trade in his friends to keep himself safe. Sevenlanders placed great value on friends and family, and what Alton had said was almost the same as calling Dormael traitorous. Dormael closed his eyes and calmed himself, unable to speak.

  “We have certain…talents…at our command, Alton,” D’Jenn explained calmingly. “Getting into the castle will be difficult indeed, but we are well equipped to deal with it.”

  “No matter what they did to me, I would never lead the Galanians here. Even if they could keep me long enough to do anything,” Dormael snorted defiantly.

  Alton, still shaking his head, looked slightly dumbfounded by this turn of events. He finally sat back in his chair with a hand over his eyes. He inhaled deeply and then sighed before speaking.

  “What…talents…are you speaking of?” Alton asked, sounding doubtful.

  Before D’Jenn could answer him, Dormael stood up so quickly that Alton started in surprise and D’Jenn stepped back cautiously. Slowly, deliberately, keeping his eyes on Alton’s face, Dormael raised his arms, hands outstretched, almost as if he were about to be given a large package. There was a tiny explosion, and suddenly a roiling ball of fire was spinning in the air above Dormael’s hands. Alton watched, dumbstruck, as the flame shrank to the size of a small pea and shot towards D’Jenn. D’Jenn reached out as if to catch a small rock and seized the tiny flame, causing it to hover just above his palm. With another tiny explosion, the flame took on the form of a small bird and began to flap around the room until it burst once again, and was gone.

  Alton was speechless, staring at the two of them in surprised horror.

  “That’s an exercise we used to do in Ishamael. It’s called ‘The Phoenix Takes Flight’. It’s used to heighten magical control over energies that are chaotic in nature. It’s quite difficult really, but we’ve been doing this for a long time now,” Dormael spoke into the stunned
silence.

  “What Dormael is trying to say, Alton,” D’Jenn went on, “is that we are…”

  “Wizards of the Conclave,” Alton finished, awestruck.

  There was a long silence afterward, as Alton appeared to be mulling over this new information. Dormael and D’Jenn stood in place looking at him, waiting for him to say something. Finally, Alton broke the silence with a long sigh and began speaking once again.

  “You know,” he began, “I always knew there was something strange about you, Dormael. I didn’t suspect this, of course, but I wondered over and over again how you got word to D’Jenn that you were staying with me. He seemed to know a lot about what had happened before he stepped foot into this room. I guess that was…”

  “Magic,” Dormael interjected for him.

  “Yes. Magic,” Alton said, appearing to have a hard time saying it, “that’s just unbelievable. I’ve never met a…wizard…before.”

  “Now you have two in your study,” said Dormael matter-of-factly.

  “Indeed,” Alton said, shaking his head.

  “This doesn’t really change much, Alton, except that we are even better equipped to deal with this whole situation than you thought we were before,” Dormael said.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” Alton asked, still looking dumbfounded.

  “Well, it’s not exactly the sort of thing you tell everyone you meet. I had to be sure that you could handle it, and that you weren’t the usual sort of Alderakian who thinks that wizards are the next thing to Saarnok,” Dormael said, making a sign to ward off evil, “but now that the Galanians are here, the situation has become a bit more dangerous. You needed to know the truth.”

  “Then why are you really here, Dormael? How is it you just “happened” to pass by Shawna when she was in trouble? Is that another lie?” Alton asked accusingly.

  “It’s partly the truth. The truth is that I was led to her…drawn to her magically in a way that I can’t fully explain to myself right now, let alone to you. For some reason, the girl just causes my magic to go crazy, and I don’t know why yet. The same thing happens to D’Jenn. Also, I am genuinely concerned about her, believe it or not. I’ve at least been anxious to hear what happened to the poor girl, and now I’m mixed up in this just as deep as you are. You understand that I cannot simply leave now without knowing what is causing this disturbance in our magic, and my own morals will not let me leave a helpless girl to imprisonment or death. Also, I’ve begun to count you among my friends, Alton. For that alone, I would help,” Dormael retorted.

  Alton looked momentarily abashed by his scathing tone and stared at the ground in front of his feet. He took a deep breath and let out a long sigh, all the anger draining out of him. After a minute, he looked up at the cousins again.

  “I count you among my friends as well, Dormael,” Alton said quietly, “I’m sorry about the outburst, but you can understand how I would be surprised,” Dormael nodded, and Alton went on, “I can understand why you kept it a secret, as well. I imagine that if you had told me that the first night you came into my home, I would’ve felt threatened and suspicious. As it is, I see that you’re genuinely concerned.”

  Alton rose from his chair at this, and offered Dormael his hand. Dormael took it, and Alton gave him a nod. D’Jenn got a handshake as well, and then Alton walked slowly to the window and gazed out into the midday sunlight.

  “I’ve been meaning to ask you a favor of you, Dormael,” Alton began, and D’Jenn gave his cousin an I-told-you-so nod and a satisfied smile.

  “To smuggle Shawna out of Cambrell?” Dormael asked.

  “I know it’s a large favor to ask of you, but if you can get her over to your homeland I don’t think these Galanians will chase her there,” Alton implored, still staring out the window.

  “I had a feeling that you would ask that,” Dormael said, looking at his cousin with a knowing smile, “I will do my best to get her out.”

  “Good, good. Thank you Dormael,” said Alton, looking relieved.

  “There is a favor that we would ask of you,” D’Jenn said.

  “Anything within my power,” Alton replied.

  “We’ll need a ship to take us there over the Stormy Sea; a ship with a captain who will not object to a late night and secret departure. Do you know anyone trustworthy?” asked D’Jenn.

  “A captain that will not object to a late-night, secret departure? Now why would I know anyone like that? Are you suggesting that I’m in the smuggling business?” Alton replied slyly.

  “Any smart businessman who finds himself in a position to ship goods at a…reduced…tax rate stands to make a good bit of money,” replied D’Jenn, “I was only asking if you knew someone…”

  “Of course I’m in the smuggling business,” replied Alton good naturedly, “How else would I have made such a success? Bribing the customs men at the docks is a little costly, though, but as you can see, I’ve done well.”

  “Quite,” agreed D’Jenn.

  “I will send someone down to the docks to see who is in port right now. The last I heard, the only captain down there was Roldo, but he’s not exactly the loyal or trustworthy type,” replied Alton dubiously. “So,” he went on, “how exactly do you plan on getting inside the castle?”

  “Well, we could always change into birds and fly into a window,” Dormael offered, but D’Jenn shook his head, dismissing the idea.

  “I was never very good at flying, coz. The wind tosses me around like a feather,” D’Jenn said. “There’s a little trick I learned while I was sneaking into Thardin Keep. It’s simple enough, and it will be easier than making a landing on a windowsill. First, we’ll need some information about the Castle itself, though.”

  “Right you are, cousin, right you are,” Dormael replied, and he strode over to the window and faced the midday sun.

  “What’s he going to do?” asked Alton excitedly, obviously waiting for a grand display of magical power.

  “Nothing you’ll be able to see, Alton,” snickered D’Jenn.

  Dormael smiled as he heard those words, but they faded away as he threw his mind out of the window. Suddenly he was flying in a large circle over Ferolan, looking down at the rooftops dotted on the hillsides and crammed into the valley. He spread out his phantom arms as he turned and sped towards the large stone bastion that was Ferolan Castle.

  The castle was made of granite, and was a concentric design. The outer walls were lower than the inner walls, and as he flew over them he could see that the two walls came close together on the seaward side of the castle. There were five guard towers on the landward side; two that flanked the main entrance which sat on the meandering path up from the city, and three that were set at regular intervals facing east. Flying low over the guard towers, he could see two guards stationed atop the each tower, and at least three more pairs walking the ramparts above the walls themselves. There were no guard towers on the seaward side, but the walkway atop the outer wall was wider and sported two ballistae and a small catapult to boot.

  The high inner walls only had four guard towers, set in the four cardinal directions. The same amount of guards stood atop these towers, but there were no roving patrols on the walls. The keep itself was built into the southern inner wall and stood very high, with two large towers rising above the inner walls, one higher than the other. Flying near the windows, he caught a glimpse of a large balcony at the topmost part of the highest tower, and knew that these were the Lord’s Apartments. Guests must be housed in the shorter tower, and the Great Hall had to be on the ground floor. Dormael turned and arced down towards the castle grounds.

  Flying over the grounds he saw the stables inside the inner wall, and a low squat structure built into the seaward side of the wall. He hovered there, speculating on it for a moment. After a minute or two, he saw a train of carts being pulled toward the building by large pack horses. Supplies were being kept there, and there had to be a way into the kitchens from that room. It was a possible entrance point, but it
would require them to get into the gate somehow, and on short notice it might not be possible.

  It would have to be D’Jenn’s method, and the walls, then.

  Dormael took off once again, and flew in a close circle around the highest tower once more. He hoped for a second that he could catch the Lady of the castle in her rooms, perhaps half dressed, but it was an empty hope, and there was no Lady there. Laughing in his mind, he climbed as high as he dared, and dived towards Alton’s study window once more.

  “What was that?” Alton asked as Dormael stepped away from the window, “You just stood there, mute as stone looking out at the sun for about ten minutes.”

  “Well, it’s called Mind Flight,” explained Dormael, “I sent my mind out over the castle and took a look around. It’s just like flying, except you’re not really doing it.”

  “If you can send your mind outside your body like that,” Alton said, “why don’t you just find out what we need to know that way? You wouldn’t even have to sneak into the castle.”

  “There are many risks involved,” explained D’Jenn, “You see, in order to touch anything while you’re mind-flying, you have to use magic to become tangible enough to touch it. Also, it only works at a certain distance with no interference. The more solid structures between your mind and body, the harder it becomes to mind-fly. On top of that, if you are tangible while in Mind Flight and you’re harmed in any way your mind dies. Your body, however, stays alive until it rots away.” Alton looked a little confused at this explanation, but he nodded his head as if he understood completely.

  “So, coz,” D’Jenn said, “tell me about Ferolan Castle.”

  ****

  Chapter Four

  Close Calls and Rude Awakenings

  The stars shone brightly down on Dormael and D’Jenn as they stood gazing up at the cliff on the seaward side of Ferolan Castle. Dormael had discovered a little used path in the corner of the Lord’s March that led down to a small park beside the ocean. From there, it was a short climb down to a tiny patch of ground that was on the edge of a sheer drop into the dark waters below, but stood only about ten hands distance from the bottom of the castle cliff face.