The Aduramis Chronicles: Volumes 1-3: The Definitive Collection

by Harrison Davies

  Sonny had kept clear, preferring to wait upstairs for the arrival of the healer, who did eventually turn up but was turned away unpaid for her lateness. Coinin and Aniol had heard Sonny bellowing that the healer almost cost the life of his best servant and that she would be fortunate to find work again after he had informed everyone of her incompetence. The healer had protested and declared Sonny a disgrace, at which point a door was slammed, and a horse clacked its way down the street.

  They listened as bells rang somewhere outside, sounding urgent, and Sonny re-joined them, rather red-faced and panting.

  ‘The nerve of the woman. How dare she arrive late and expect payment for services she failed to deliver? She will never work in this city again, mark my words.’ Sonny saw the uncomfortable looks on his guest’s faces and lowered his eyes for a moment. ‘I’m terribly sorry for my outburst, there is no excuse.’

  ‘That’s quite alright and understandable, in the circumstances.’ Coinin said.

  ‘That’s very gracious. Tell me, how is old Dorn?’ Sonny looked worriedly to where his butler lay sleeping.

  ‘He is going to be very sore and pained, I’m afraid,’ Aniol said. ‘Though, I do believe with the right care he will make a complete recovery. I have given instructions to the cook for the cleaning of his wound and changing of his bandages. I have also given her a tonic Dorn is to take, which will dull most of the pain.’

  Sonny hardly contained his thanks. He gripped each of his guest’s hands and vigorously shook. ‘Thank you so very much, that indeed is good news. If there is ever anything that I can do for you –’

  Coinin released his hand and looked Sonny dead in the eye. ‘Well, there is a little something we need, if we may?’

  Sonny looked from Coinin to Aniol, and they saw a little disappointment in his eyes that they had asked.

  ‘Certainly, anything,’ Sonny said.

  ‘Dorn needs his rest. Perhaps we can retire to your office and sup some of that fine wine. We still require the information we talked about earlier,’ Coinin reminded.

  Sonny appeared relieved. Information was his favourite commodity and it cost nothing to give it. ‘It would be an absolute pleasure to assist you. This way, then.’

  The trio returned the way they had come and entered Sonny’s study once more. Its warming fire was most welcome; it had been terribly cold in Dorn’s quarters.

  ‘I will not take no for an answer this time. Dorn will move above ground before the week is out. I assume I need to give him time to become stable enough to be moved?’ Sonny said.

  Aniol nodded. ‘That would be for the best.’

  ‘Then that is settled.’ He invited Aniol and Coinin to sit nearer to the fire on a soft and comfortable leather divan.

  The cushions were stuffed full of duck feather and prickled them now and then, but it made a change from the rough wooden stools in Dorn’s room. The heat hit them both almost immediately, and they became quite sleepy.

  Coinin shook his head to clear the fog of tiredness and gratefully accepted a glass of blue wine from Sonny. Aniol did likewise and watched as Sonny stood with his back to the fire, warming his buttocks.

  ‘What information can old Sonny furnish you with?’ he asked, and rubbed his hands together anxiously.

  Coinin supped at his drink and licked his lips. He quite liked this oddly coloured drink. Perhaps he would ask Sonny what it was before they left. ‘My father gave strict instructions that we should learn of the culture in this city, and so I need to know a great bit of detail about it.’

  ‘Why does your father need this information?’

  Coinin thought quickly. ‘My father is a very cautious man. He enjoys the accuracy of knowledge before he commits to business in any city. He has specific questions, if I may?’

  Sonny acquiesced with a nod. ‘Certainly. Who am I to refuse a simple request like this? Go ahead with your questions.’

  Coinin stalled for a moment. He had not actually thought too deeply about what questions he wanted to be answered.

  Sonny frowned. ‘Is there something wrong?’

  ‘No.’ Coinin shook his head. ‘It’s been a long day, that’s all.’

  Sonny nodded, satisfied. ‘When you are ready.’

  Coinin figured that he should start with simple questions so as not to raise suspicion. ‘What is the main trade in this city?’

  ‘That’s an easy one. Grains and fish. However, gold is mined elsewhere and brought here to forge into fine jewellery for export. That trade has seen a recent boost.’

  Coinin smiled. ‘Are there any mines nearby that mine for copper?’

  ‘Ah, so your father is a copper miner. No, there are no copper mines nearby, so your father will be most happy to hear that, I’m sure.’

  Coinin did his best to smile and nod approvingly. ‘Is it true that the city has a king who oversees it? Will my father need to seek approval to mine here?’

  Sonny’s expression changed to a snarl, and he cracked his knuckles. ‘There is one, who calls himself king, rightfully or not. He is despised by his people for he has ruined certain trades and the lives of so many here.’

  ‘How so?’ Aniol asked.

  Sonny looked suddenly worried. He coughed and beads of sweat formed on his forehead. His eyes darted left and right. He had said too much. If the city guard were to hear him speak of the king in that manner, his neck would be on the line. ‘Please forgive me, I spoke out of turn. I should not have spoken of the king in that fashion. Forget I said such things.’

  ‘Well, I do think it is important that we learn all we can about –’

  A loud knocking at the street-door interrupted Coinin, and Sonny grew agitated. His face drained of all colour, and his bottom lip quivered. He paced the room, his breathing quickening, and he mumbled pained words, too quiet to hear.

  He froze the moment someone knocked on the study door, and his eyes grew wide. ‘C … come,’ his voice cracked.

  The large, double doors opened and Grent stood there, stooped and as frail as ever. Sonny blew out a relieved breath, thankful that the king’s guard was not there to arrest him for sedition for speaking ill of the king.

  ‘Forgive the h’intrusion, Master, but there is visitors ‘ere to see ya.’ Grent bowed ever so slightly, having learned that lesson previously.

  ‘Wh … who is it?’ Sonny stuttered, again deeply troubled.

  A figure stepped forward and brushed Grent aside. The servant took the hint and vanished from sight without a further word.

  ‘It’s Meone and a guest, you silly old oaf.’ Meone stepped into the light and dropped the hood of her cloak. Two other figures stood behind her in the gloom.

  Coinin and Aniol were amazed, they had never seen a Felisis before, and she was a sight to behold. Sonny, however, did not relax.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ he hissed. ‘You are not supposed to come here; we are never to meet.’

  ‘Yes, well, you can relax. I’m sure the king has more things to concern himself with than a local businessman and a temple scribe meeting at your place of business. I have brought an important guest, now –’ she stopped, aware that there were others in the room. ‘Ah, perhaps we should return when you have completed your business.’

  ‘Coinin, Aniol?’ The second hooded figure stepped forth and dropped the cowl. Archmage Menin stood there, a slight grin on her face. ‘Fancy meeting you here.’

  Sonny looked from Coinin to the new arrival. ‘What is going on here? Who are you people?’

  Coinin and Aniol stood. ‘Laliala? How –’

  ‘It’s a long story and one I will gladly tell, but first I must greet the master of the household.’ Menin stepped toward Sonny, a hand outstretched. ‘Laliala Menin.’

  Sonny took her hand and limply shook it. ‘Sonny … Sonny Lav’er.’

  Zaruun, head uncovered now, closed the door and remained in the hallway beyond the study.

  Sonny watched dumbfounded as Menin removed her cloak, tossed it over a near
by chair and walked to his drinks cabinet where she proceeded to pour herself a glass of the fine tasting blue liquid Coinin had enjoyed moments ago. ‘Ah, Turellian blue spiced wine. Delicious, if I say so myself. I have not indulged in many years.’

  Sonny saw red. ‘How dare you barge into my home and deign to help yourself to my hospitality without so much as a by your leave.’

  Menin rounded on him and smiled sweetly. ‘As one of your more valuable customers, I assume my right to help myself. As for barging in here, we did no such thing. We were invited.’

  ‘What are you talking about, woman? I have never met you before in my life. Meone, you insult me by bringing this woman here, who is so carefree with my wine.’

  ‘Master Lav’er, this is Archmage Laliala Menin, Order of The Wulf,’ Meone introduced with a modest flair.

  Sonny faltered, about to say something in return, and stopped. His mouth opened and closed several times before he bowed. ‘Please, forgive me, I hope I have not insulted my foremost client?’

  ‘Not at all, but perhaps it was a little rude of me to help myself.’

  ‘On the contrary, please do, yes, only the best for my finest customer,’ Sonny replied.

  Menin nodded approval and availed herself of one of the more comfortable day beds opposite Coinin and Aniol. ‘Oh, yes, this is most relaxing.’

  Coinin leant forward and faced Menin. ‘What are you doing?’ he whispered.

  ‘Making an impression. My turning up in a past best cloak and declaring I am archmage would have resulted in laughter. Being introduced and grabbing his attention was warranted.’ Laliala gave one of her famous winks accompanying a lop-sided smile.

  Sonny ventured into the middle of the group and once more took up residence with his back to the fireplace. ‘What brings you to my humble abode, Archmage?’

  ‘Please, dispense with the archmage, we are all friends here. Call me Laliala.’

  Sonny cocked an eyebrow. Friends they most certainly were not. ‘Very well, Laliala. What is it you want?’

  ‘It is my understanding from Meone that you seek justice for the people of Rodine.’

  Sonny looked aghast. ‘Meone, what have you been telling this woman? I could … could be killed if the king were to hear of such things.’

  ‘Oh, pipe down, Sonny. Laliala is not an enemy. She needs our help.’

  ‘I am a simple money changer. What could you possibly want more than money changed?’

  Laliala stood and placed her glass on a mantle above the fireplace. She turned to Sonny and put a soft hand on his shoulder. ‘My dear man, I want nothing more than for you to aid in the ousting of a king.’

  Sonny turned grey and retreated from Menin as if she had stung him with a red-hot poker. He grasped at his hair and stumbled over a low table.

  ‘We need for you to get us into the palace. The king has someplace to be, and we are to escort him.’

  ‘Impossible, it is not possible, I tell you. I simply won’t hear this talk. You must leave this very minute.’ Sonny gestured to the door, strode to it and flung it open.

  ‘You started the resistance movement against the king. What has happened that you should now be afraid? Is it all too real now that we knock at your door?’

  Sonny raged again. ‘How you insult me so. I am no coward.’

  ‘Then prove it, Sonny Lav’er. Prove you are the man you once were, ready to stand up against the king and fight alongside the people.’

  ‘No, I tell you, there is far too much at stake.’

  ‘So much at stake that you could afford to lose trade with the temple?’ Menin questioned softly.

  That simple statement stopped Sonny’s ranting short. He turned and glowered at Menin. ‘Of course not.’ He slammed the study door, marched to the drinks cabinet and poured himself a large measure of tan coloured liquid. He downed it in one and coughed, scrunching up his face. Depositing the glass, he brushed himself down and sat at his desk and became all business-like. ‘Let’s talk. What is this all about that I should risk my life and my livelihood for you?’

  ‘Are you a believer, Sonny?’ Menin asked.

  ‘In the gods? Most certainly I am. I came to realise the truth and was supported by Meone through my initiation. Why do you ask?’

  Menin ignored the question and continued. ‘Then you will no doubt know of one of the seven pillars of our worship. The Cerathil Rite.’

  Sonny frowned and picked up a quill in his hands, which he twirled absently. ‘The unification of the Swords of Cerathil. Yes, I know it.’

  ‘Good, and you will also know what happens if the rite is not performed.’

  Sonny nodded slowly. ‘Yes.’

  Menin went on to describe all that had happened over the past months and Sonny listened, astounded and dumbstruck, only interrupting to delve deeper.

  It was a further three hours before Menin had fully described the events that had led to the predicament they were in presently. Coinin and Aniol had nodded off in front of the warm fire, and Meone had herself listened raptly.

  ‘I can’t say I am happy that Coinin and Aniol deceived me, but it is understandable in the circumstances,’ Sonny said as he poured another drink. His head was swimming and not from the amount of alcohol he had consumed during Menin’s revealing and passionate outpouring.

  ‘Regrettable that I should ask a brother to act in such a manner, and I apologise.’ Menin lowered her eyes.

  ‘Any actions were for the good of The Brotherhood, nay, the world, and now the success of your plan rests with me. That is quite a scary thought.’

  ‘Not as scary as all intelligent life being wiped out in the blink of an eye,’ Meone chimed in.

  Sonny clapped his hands. ‘If not for Aniol, who today saved a good friend from certain death, I would not be entertaining you further. But as it is, I am well connected, and I can procure certain items that will prove useful.’

  ‘Oh?’ Menin asked.

  ‘It is evident to me that you need to enter the palace prior to a guard change, but you will need to subdue the actual guards meant to replace those on duty. For that you will need guard uniforms to help you walk through the main gate of the palace and from there ride in a basket up and into the guardhouse barracks,’ Sonny said.

  ‘Oh, we aren’t infiltrating that way. There is another way,’ Meone said mysteriously. ‘But even so, the uniforms will be of great value.’

  Menin crossed to Aniol and shook her.

  Aniol was shocked awake and stood to attention in a flash. ‘Archmage, my apologies, I –’

  ‘We’ll skip the court martial this time. Please take Zaruun and seek out General’s Jericho and Wulf. Have them bring the troops here under cover of darkness. The time for the rendezvous is nearing.’ She turned to Sonny. ‘I assume that is acceptable to you?’

  Sonny grimaced. ‘The more, the merrier,’ he said, not all too unpleasantly.

  ‘Aniol?’ Menin prompted.

  ‘At once, milady.’ Aniol saluted and left the room.

  ‘While Aniol is running her errand, perhaps we should discuss obtaining those uniforms you mentioned.’ Laliala said.

  ❖

  Zaruun was initially reluctant to leave Menin behind unguarded until Aniol advised him that it was best not to question the archmage’s wishes. They instead donned their cloaks and left the house quietly.

  The sun had already begun to wane in the autumnal sky, the colour slowly changing from blue to orange and red as the sun changed position. The sister planets, Rolas and Tal were visible high in the heavens.

  The wind had thankfully died, and they walked steadily towards the rendezvous point. Aniol wondered how Captain Dalia and the troops were doing. Were they sufficiently fed and watered, on guard and fit and raring to go? Aniol looked to her left and up at her tall companion. He had a stern look of concentration on his face, or was that worry about his charge, the archmage? She wasn’t about to ask. He and she never really saw eye to eye. To him, she was a nuisance who always di
sobeyed orders, and to her, he was grumpy and too stuck in his ways to adapt and not take things so seriously.

  Although, when she thought about it, she couldn’t blame him, he had the most challenging role of all, looking after Laliala Menin, and if that wasn’t a chore in itself, she didn’t know what was. That woman was a law unto herself, and apt to wander off unexpectedly and quite against protocol, thereby keeping poor Zaruun on his toes.

  Perhaps when Zaruun next chastised her for some wrongdoing, she would take the dressing down graciously.

  ❖

  All was quiet, the bells had stopped ringing finally, and the guards had long since given up on their search. However, Jericho and Marrok remained in their hiding place hours longer than was required, just to be certain the city guard hadn’t left a lookout in place, which would sound the alarm the moment they heaved their stinking bodies from the sewerage system. They were cold, hungry and altogether tired. They had both resolved to stand on one foot then the other to try and relieve the strain of standing for so long and to aid warming.

  Marrok had suggested that they venture further along the low tunnel and look for an outlet, but Jericho had put his foot down, citing that if a surge of water or sewerage were to be released behind them, then they could very well find themselves in a lot more trouble. It would be far better to make a grab for the ladder in that event than find themselves swept ahead of a surge of sewage and to be dashed against the hard rocks of some collapsed tunnel.

  ‘Ready?’ Marrok asked, now thoroughly fed up of the horrid environment and desiring clean and fresh air.

  ‘No time like the present. Take it slow and peek before you dive out of the hole. If we are seen, run.’

  Marrok pulled his left foot out of the thick brown sludge with a sucking sound and placed it on the bottom rung of the iron ladder leading up out of the hellish pit. His foot slipped and he re-seated it with a curse. Next came his right foot and his hands. They gripped the iron bars, and he immediately felt the ice like metal almost sear into his hands like a burn. Nevertheless, he climbed slowly at first, thanks to his aching muscles. Dirty brown, viscous liquid dripped from his lower extremities and landed too close to Jericho below.