Waking Olympus (The Singers of the Dark Book 1)

by Peter Yard

  Tei was standing on the steps of the Keep when he got there. He remembered the last time.

  “Tei. I was wondering about this pavement. It is different here than where we entered.” Stupid question he thought.

  “Yes. You are so observant, easy to see why the Master Wizard sent you. Most of the paving of the Castle allows water to drip through to a catchment system. Water for some crops. Not everywhere, only where there is no heavy traffic, walkways.” In spite of the river it was too close to the desert not to take chances.

  "Do you know why we have been called here?"

  "Probably they want to meet the first Wizard to visit here … since … wow, ever. The agreement with Sanfran is also historic, I imagine they are shocked." She was grinning.

  They walked up the Keep’s southern staircase to the fourth floor where stairs exited to a sturdy wooden door. When he followed Tei inside he found himself in a large circular room. No windows but many candles. The room was arranged as a circular version of the room where he had first met the Master Wizard in the Center. Except here the seats were slightly raised to give the same effect. The circular rows of seating were almost empty. Except for a dozen people sitting together near the innermost row. There were eight guards wearing uncharacteristic shiny armor, like silver, with jeweled weapons at their sides. The dozen seated wore expensive clothes, but he didn't have time to notice any details. As he got nearer he saw gold rings on fingers and the glint of gems; perhaps rubies, emeralds and diamonds. The guard led them down the nearest aisle towards the flat center of the room about four meters across. A place to orate or judge.

  He reached the center. The guard left. It was just him and Tei now. Suddenly a blindingly bright light from above shone down. He guessed it was reflected from outside, it looked like sunlight. He couldn’t see a thing outside of the patch of light the two of them occupied but it was not welcoming.

  An old man’s voice, powerful and authoritative, spoke.

  “Why are you here? What was your mission, Wizard?”

  Mikel, quickly decided he would be honest, a safe strategy because he didn’t know anything.

  Tei started to talk. “Master Olen. I have grown to know this young man and believe he has no plans or evil intent.”

  “Tei, you are not a member of the Council. You speak when we ask you to, not before.”

  Olen continued. “Well, Wizard? Speak up!”

  Mikel took a deep breath and tried to sound as clueless as he felt. “Sirs, I am an Apprentice Wizard from the Center in Lind. I was sent to Bethor to investigate trade routes to the East, and to look for reasons why two Center agents have disappeared. I’m only an Apprentice Wizard, I was just sent to listen.” He repeated his low status almost as a plea.

  Olen laughed. “Ha! They disappeared because Bethor is planning a war and they didn’t want anyone else nosing around. You are lucky Tei Valis got you out of there when she did. Bethor isn’t a very subtle player. But I think you planned that from the start. Now tell us the real reason you were sent here.”

  The last sentence was spoken with such venom that Mikel’s hands started shaking. He put them behind his back, hopefully out of sight. If they didn’t believe him when he told the truth then he was out of ideas. He was a long way from home and it was starting to go bad.

  Tei started to speak but was cut short.

  “And let us not forget Tei Lin Valis. Your orders were clear. Go along with the Center's request; befriend the Wizard and learn his plans. Did you?”

  “He is young. He is innocent. He is a true Wizard. He harbors no ill will, merely curiosity.” Tei pleaded.

  “Tei? Did you — get emotionally attached to this man?”

  Tei didn’t answer. But Mikel did. If he was doomed anyway then he might as well defend both of them.

  “Tei was a good friend and companion. When I return to the Center I will only have good things to say about the Traders.”

  Olen was contemptuous, “Zeus save us. Typical of the Valis clan.”

  So that was it. There was a grudge involved.

  Olen spoke more calmly. “Tei, you will return to normal duties, your ambassadorial duties will be reassessed. Wizard, you are deemed for the present to be a possible spy. You will be detained until we work out what to do with you. Guards, take him away!”

  Tei shouted. “The Cities know of our dealings with Sanfran. You know what that means. This will not placate them. They will see it as an opportunity to get rid of Tanten and Sanfran.”

  Olen, now confident and boisterous. “Enough! This meeting is concluded.”

  Mikel heard Tei shout “No!” But the shock of the announcement dimmed it. He felt strong, hard, armored hands grab his arms and march him out of the cone of light. He was day-blinded again, and swore under his breath; even if he could break free he would probably have just run straight into a wall. They marched him down the steps. By the time his vision had recovered enough he was being marched down the stairs, ending below ground level. Only some torchlight. Mikel had never heard of ‘dungeons’ before but now he was about to find out more than he wanted.

  It was dark and dank, it reeked. They took away his weapons, leaving him with his journal. They threw him into a cell and locked the door. It was small, cold, wet and no bedding. He could barely see anything even through the small peep hole in the door. He had no idea how he was going to get out of this. It was too dark to even write.

  In the cold and dark there was plenty of time to think. Fretting wouldn't get him out or make the stone floor softer, or warmer, or less damp. Sometimes when he was younger he would meditate on problems. Not the meditation they were taught to calm their minds and influence their bodies, he never seemed to be good at that. Instead he would think of a problem, see it in his mind as clear and real as a physical object, then he would become the problem. The interacting forces, components or abstractions would become intimately bonded to him. He would pass into it, time would dissolve away, then he would be the problem and the solution, his mind like a quantum particle exploring all paths simultaneously, finally entangled, collapsing into a solution.

  He had never studied war, he was a novice, but now he must make up for that; the forces that moved people and armies must be understood like the four fundamental forces, space, time, and information; force and energy, he must become the coming war for Arva. Somehow in all of that he must find a path to a better world, entropy would always pull them towards something worse, only conscious actions could get something better. He ignored the voice asking him how he expected to implement any solution, he was a grain of sand on the beach and now the tide was turning.

  The night was 24 hours long, he either meditated on the Problem or he dreamed of the Problem until at times he didn't know where dream and waking met.

  Arva was a powder keg. Having seen a demonstration of gunpowder he understood the meaning of the archaic term. Bethor was going to march east, they didn't have a real navy to oppose Lind, but Lind depended on the flow of goods both ways across the sea. Bethor was the tap that was about to be turned off. That would starve both Lind and the Traders of finances and resources. They would probably wait for Tanten to decline and then launch an assault on Tanten, if they could find it. Then he remembered the digging in Lindin, the archeological dig at the Library. Looking for maps? Surely they would be out of date. No, the maps would reflect the state of affairs while the Cities were in decline, after the founding of Tanten and the Center. An enslaving army armed with secrets. His cell now became even darker.

  The darkness was occasionally broken when the Head Jailer would come to visit. They would grab him, shackle him in irons and drag him off to what they referred to as the Interview Room. There he was tortured; with clamps, or hot metal, or threats, or sharp instruments. They asked him all sorts of questions, to which he always said what he knew, which was very little, that became the incentive for another round until he would 'crack' and then presumably tell them any fantasy they wanted. The Head Jailer was gettin
g very excited by these visits, trying to make Mikel think of him as a friend in some twisted, sickening parody of friendship. But in this, this setting, Mikel was a professional not an amateur. He knew, or thought he did, the workings of those minds, twisted and harmed like him by circumstance. That didn't make them buddies, they were still intent on harming him. In his mind his rage burned like an exploding star, hot, white, searing. In the dark he would calm it, tame it, he was a blacksmith working on consuming rage. His own special dragon; deadly and useful. He knew he was dealing with something that uncontrolled would destroy him and any about him. He had a goal, he had more than just a will now, all that was left was access to resources.

  After Mikel had been dragged off, the light had gone out. Tei looked up, knowing that a mirror system on the roof was used to direct sunlight to this spot. She didn’t know how the system worked she just saw a fleeting image of the blue sky in the mirror. Blue sky symbolized freedom to her. Then the room was plunged into darkness.

  She heard the Council rise. Some muttering and then footsteps disappearing. She could now see a bit more and noticed that not all of the Councillors had left. There were perhaps three, no four who had stayed. Mistress Valia came towards her.

  “Don’t worry Tei, we will work something out. Perhaps Olen can be made to see that he was being very unreasonable.”

  “I don’t think so Mistress Valia. You know he has never forgiven Valis for its success in the southern trade routes. His family always claimed they had done all the work.”

  Master Levin spoke next. “Tell us about this Wizard.” The others nodded their heads.

  Tei took a moment. “Well, I was instructed to get to know him in Bethor. But he was so inexperienced I knew that Bethor agents would kill him easily. I decided to invite him on my caravan to explore the trade routes directly. Also, I don’t know how to explain this, but he was different. He was so vulnerable but he had this raw curiosity and intelligence. He would look at things and see things I had never seen before. I wanted to know this man more.” She saw their looks.

  “Yes. I slept with him.” A tear started to roll down her left cheek.

  “Oh dear.” Master Levin said, “I see.”

  Tei took a deep breath. “I guess you have heard the report about our talks with Sanfran? If you read the report carefully you will see that this clueless Wizard was instrumental. The Queen was very impressed by him. The Queen of Sanfran expects him to be treated well. The news of his imprisonment I guess is supposed to tell the Cities that Tanten has no plans to ally with Sanfran. I presume that that is the real reason Mikel is in a cell. So what happens when the news reaches them? They know Sanfran is alone, they go to war with Sanfran, and Sanfran will fall. As you can imagine if Sanfran falls the next to go is the Caravanserai and then Tanten. They will capture the Caravanserai and bleed us of resources. Don’t think the Cities don’t know about this either. They know about Mikel because there were agents in the Sanfran court. So it is only a matter of time before they decide to nip this in the bud and isolate the Traders. Then they can pick us off at their leisure when our power has ebbed.”

  Valia spoke, “Olen has exceeded his authority. He cannot simply imprison people without public trial and discussion. This course he is taking is very dangerous.”

  Tei interrupted, “Any course from now on is dangerous. Whether we like it or not we are heading for war. I think we need to start taking action. If Olen leads us, then we are heading down his perilous path to certain defeat. I believe it is time that the leadership must change. And quickly.”

  There was complete silence. The Councillors looked at each other.

  “Are you sure this is not just about Mikel?” Valia asked.

  “What other choice do we have? And Traders do not have kings as the Cities do, we have a Council. Olen is just a chairman not a king. He has no power to make these decisions.” She said. This touched them all. Traders despised autocratic rule by instinct.

  “No, Tei is right. We are in danger. The quicker we act the better.” Master Levin said. The doubt and uncertainty in his face now gone.

  Tei felt a moment of unreality as she heard herself speak. “We should move to depose Olen. There are precedents. But if he gets wind of this he may act unlawfully again by having the rest of us thrown in prison, or worse.”

  “We know loyal Traders in the guard who can be trusted to act by the Constitution, not by Olen’s command.” Master Rilk said from the back. “We are with you Tei.”

  He awoke from a fitful, hard, uncomfortable sleep. There was a rattling sound, which he realized was a key in a lock. Then light through the peep hole. He supposed it was another bowl of slops, something masquerading as food, or perhaps an 'interview'. The prison guards seem to delight in teasing their charges; sometimes with insects in the food, sometimes with waking him up in the middle of his sleep, sometimes with beatings. Inflicting pain and discomfort on Mikel and his fellow prisoners as if they were the jailer’s own private property independent of his trips to the Interview Room. Their own captive flies to tear the wings off.

  “Mikel!”

  He didn’t recognize the male voice but he knew the jailers wouldn’t bother with first names.

  “Who are you?”

  The door swung open there was a Trader guard in steel armor, he saw some insignia on his shoulders glinting in the torch light.

  “I am Major Rayan Valis. A cousin of Tei. I’m getting you out of here. Can you handle a sword?”

  “Uh yeah. Sure.” But he wasn’t sure. Still it was better than rotting in the cell.

  Back at the Center he had been trained in the use of a sword by Master Oma. He always wondered where she learned to fight like that.

  She had said, Mikel, use your intelligence and make the most of what is about you, you may not have the years of practice but you can be oh so creative. Use that. Yes, being 'creative' means fighting dirty. If that bothers you then think how a sword in your gut would bother you.

  Rayan led the way. Down the corridor lay one of the jailers, unconscious, minus his keys. Mikel followed stiffly at first, he had been in that cramped place for so long his muscles weren't used to such activity. This time his eyes were completely dark adapted and he saw exactly the path he had taken. He also got a good idea of the layout. He wanted to forget it but he knew he wouldn’t. He didn’t know if that was a good or bad thing. They had climbed some stairs and had reached a small room that was the entrance to the dungeon. Several men stood before them, the jailers, with swords drawn, Rayan seemed surprised.

  The Head Jailer, his old friend, headed towards Mikel while the other two took on Rayan.

  Mikel blocked the first blow from the jailer. The jailer’s sword was slightly shorter than Mikel’s but his reach probably compensated. Mikel was barefoot, the jailer wore ragged shoes: advantage to Mikel. He took in the rest of the room as he jumped back from the clash of swords. A lit brazier to his right, stinking slops or urine covering some of the cobble stones. Some wooden fixtures fastened to the walls. Not much to work with. The jailer had no armor thankfully.

  The jailer started to crouch. He was making himself a small target but ready to pounce. He leapt at Mikel. Mikel barely parried. He grabbed the jailer’s sword wrist. He in turn clamped his teeth on Mikel’s hand. Mikel placed his right foot on the outside of the jailer's left leg then pushed putting the jailer off balance. He spun right with the jailer pushing the jailers head onto the fiery brazier. The jailer screamed and jumped back swatting at his smoldering hair. Mikel advanced on him. Parry, parry. He grabbed the other’s wrist again but this time he knew the jailer was standing on the slops in worn shoes, he kicked the jailers foot and he started to slip down and back. This opened some space between them and Mikel brought down his sword. The man saw that he was falling onto a sword aimed at his throat but it was too late to do anything. He gave Mikel a fleeting glimpse of fear or pleading then the blade sliced his carotid artery and Mikel was blinded by a spray of blood. He felt the man
go limp as he vainly clutched his throat. He let him go and stepped back panting and shaking.

  “Well done, young Wizard,” said Rayan, standing over the still writhing bodies of the other two.

  Mikel and Rayan ran quickly up the steps to the fourth floor. There was no way to know what had happened on the other side of the door, it was some thick heavy hardwood, no sound penetrated it. They barged in, fingers crossed.

  Before them were the twelve Councillors, Tei and some soldiers, some of them guards and others with different armor.

  “You must step down! Now!” Tei yelled. She was intimidating, he had never seen her like this.

  Rayan spoke up, “You no longer have the support of the Castle guard, Olen. If you choose to act against us they will respond accordingly.”

  Olen stood, in his fine robes, proudly defying the usurpers. Some of the guards behind Olen, probably from his clan, drew their swords but they looked at each other, confused and uncertain looking for support and not getting any.

  “You have put Tanten in danger. We must act quickly to reassure Sanfran.” Ray’s face was hard, and now there was menace in his voice.

  Olen motioned to the guards behind him. They sheathed their swords. Then with a loud sigh he fell back into his seat. He spoke, shaken and defeated.

  “Of course. All right then. I nominate Tei as my replacement.” Before anyone could react he stood, straightened, and addressed them in an almost regal tone, “Tei Lin Valis, I hereby nominate you as Head Councillor of Tanten until elections can be conducted.”

  “Olen. Please do not mock me,” she said.