by Bill Mays
“No!” The queen gasped.
Kathraine’s legs went limp, as did the rest of her body. Mani had to move quickly to catch her and lay her to rest back in her chair. Soft sobs and tears trickled from the regal woman as she laid her head to rest on the table. The three high priests all began speaking at once about retribution and ceremonies and the loss of hope.
“Silence!” Vergehen boomed with an unnaturally loud voice. “We have all lost our king, but she has lost her king and her husband. As the sole ruler of Kandair, give her some respect! This is a moment of mourning you insensitive fools!”
The room went silent except for the queen’s sniffles as she tried to regain her composure. Her shoulders straightened and her head was held high again. She lifted her gaze to meet the pleading eyes of Manifor Stormblade who knelt comfortingly at her side.
“How could you let this happen?” She asked sternly. “You and Carpious were his protectors, yet Carpious and my husband fell while you return unharmed. Explain it to me at once!” Her eyes grew hard with rage.
Mani’s head fell and his shoulders slumped. Flade could feel the knight’s heart breaking. The emotional backlash flooding the kneeling man’s mind was like a furnace burning out of control. Arianna, too, could see the man’s torment. She wanted to run to the knight’s side and comfort him.
“Forgive me, Your Majesty, I failed him.” The knight’s voice was but a broken whisper.
The queen slapped him hard across the face. Her hand grew wet from the man’s flowing tears. She stood and strode to leave the room through one of the connecting doors without another word. She left Mani on his knees, destroyed. The knight made no move to justify his failure. He gave no explanations, and asked for no allowances. In his mind, she was right. He was a disgrace to the crown, the kingdom, and the knighthood. He was a failure.
“It wasn’t his fault,” Flade pleaded, unable to contain it any longer. “I was there. It was an ambush. Magic held Mani from the king’s aid. No one tried to save him harder than this man.”
The queen shot a look of repulsion Flade’s way. “Have that wild man removed from Bromin at once!” She ordered and then left the room in a rage, slamming the door behind her.
The two soldiers in the room did as was ordered by their queen. Each man moved, taking Flade by one arm to escort him from the chamber. The ranger looked to Mani who only sat on his knees in despair. Flade offered no resistance as they walked him towards the door.
Arianna ran to pull a soldier from the ranger’s arm. “What are you doing? We came all this way to help you with this stupid war and you act like this?” The priestess screamed. “What are you people thinking?”
“Stupid war … you people …” Ashon Steelheart, the square-jawed high priest of Bannrae, and the same man who had shouted at them upon their entrance, roared. His silvery robes glistened in the lantern light as he jumped to his feet. His holy symbol swayed in the torchlight. “What would you know of war? What would a priestess of Rashas know of duty or loyalty to one’s country? Have her removed as well!” The boisterous man ordered.
The two soldiers stationed outside the room entered and took the tall woman by the arms. Arianna looked at Ashon in contempt. She thought about calling him some choice names, but it seemed a wasted effort. Jillian and Petre exchanged worried glances. Neither of them understood what was happening here. This was the first time either had been in such esteemed company, coming from small, remote towns. It was not quite how they had pictured it. The boy was terrified just being in the resistance headquarters, and the girl was still in shock from the revelation that the king was dead. Dimitri held his place, though he wanted to stop the madness evolving around him. Ganze, ever the pragmatist, moved to a corner to wait out the storm.
“Vergehen, stop this nonsense!” Dalia demanded without an ounce of hesitation as she strode forward to the table.
Ganze shook his head silently. Here they go again, he thought, no subtly and no diplomacy. These youngsters were too feisty for their own good.
“Silence this girl also!” The High Priest of Bannrae spat angrily. Ashon’s angular jaw clenched tightly as he met her gaze.
Dalia stared the man down with a look of disgust. She was in no mood for his high and mighty antics. She traveled too far and too long for it to end like this. Her hand flashed to her temple and Ashon Steelheart went stumbling to the floor. The boisterous priest did not even bother to use his hands to cushion his fall.
“Enough already!” Vergehen’s voice boomed again. “Release those children!” The old man ordered the soldiers. The men were hesitant. “I will assume full responsibility,” the wizard advisor to the crown assured them. The soldiers reluctantly released the companions and returned to their posts.
Ashon struggled back to his chair in a daze rubbing the bump on his chin. “You dare attack a council member?” He huffed. “By Bannrae’s might, I’ll have you locked away for life, witch! You’ll be lucky if you ever see daylight again!” Dalia did not flinch as she met his angry glare. She was tempted to send him tumbling to the floor again.
“Be quiet, Ashon!” Vergehen hissed. “Just be silent for once. I’ve had about enough of your supreme judgment for one day.” The three high priests of different orders looked at the advisor in shock. Vergehen had never spoken to any of them that way before. “And Manifor, do pull yourself together. You are a knight for Kandair’s sake. Her majesty is just upset and understandably so, but it won’t do for you to be seen blubbering on the floor when you’ll be leading an army to battle in a matter of days, now will it?” Mani looked up slowly. The old man was staring at him expectantly. “Well, take a seat already, son!” The knight moved to an open chair at the table quickly. “Oh, stop your open-mouthed gawking. You look like three children at a carnival!” Vergehen snapped at the priestly trio seated next to him. “Don’t any of you recognize this young lady?” He extended a hand to indicate Dalia. “It hasn’t been that long! Come forward my dear. I fear the dust of hard travel may be too thick or their eyes too old for them to see you from there.”
The old man smiled and shot her a bushy-eyed wink. His thick white eyebrows seemed to swallow his whole eye in the process. Dalia moved closer to stand beside the wizard. A snap of his fingers cleared every bit of dirt and grime from her clothes, hair and face. She appeared as the pristine lady that she was. Vergehen wiggled one crooked finger at her, calling her even closer. The lady leaned down so that the man could whisper something to her.
“That was an impressive display of power there, my dear. You’re getting stronger I see. I just wanted to thank you for that. I’ve wanted to watch someone shut that man up for years now. I hope that bump on his chin lasts long enough to remind him of his manners.” Vergehen chuckled to himself as he stroked his long beard. He leaned back and raised his voice again. “This is Lady Dalia Phorce, the maiden that was accompanying the warrior we sent to find Airos,” The old man announced to the room. “The ones who carried the sacred scroll tube from Talipax’s vault,” he clarified to the priests’ confused stares. Recognition struck them at once. “Where is your big friend, my dear? Tark the Trident, wasn’t it?”
Dalia’s eyes began to water. Vergehen raised a hand to stop her from speaking. He noticed that none of her original companions was present.
“Did the enemy claim the scroll tube?” The old wizard asked somberly.
Dalia shook her head from side to side. “Last we knew Tark still had the item.”
Vergehen released a sigh as he nodded slowly with his eyes closed. This revelation left many dangerous possibilities. The priests began mumbling amongst themselves. They immediately jumped to ideas of doom.
“We need to speak in private, my dear girl.” The old man looked to the priests and Mani. “Continue with the plans for Talipax’s rescue. I’m sure Manifor will have many new and useful ideas for his siege plan. Soldiers, keep a close watch on those doors. No more interruptions are allowed. And, forget about spreading any rumors. Anything y
ou’ve seen here is to be promptly forgotten. Is that understood?” The old man received a quick nod from the soldiers. “Dimitri, join the table. You will sit in my stead. Pay attention and take notes if you need to. I will expect a full explanation of all I miss when I return.”
The boy nodded enthusiastically, “Yes, my lord.”
“The rest of you, follow me. I’m guessing we have much to discuss.”
Vergehen moved to the same door the queen exited through. Dalia, Flade, Arianna, Petre, Jillian, and Ganze followed as instructed. The door led them to a compact hallway with several other doors lining its length. The old man guided them to the second from the last portal and then inside his private chambers. The small room quickly became crowded.
“Your numbers keep growing despite your obvious absentees,” Vergehen remarked.
“I wanted to thank you for your assistance back there, my lord,” Flade offered sincerely.
“Hmmm? … Oh, nonsense. What a ridiculously embarrassing display that was. Forget you ever saw it, my children. Now … let’s see …. Hmmm … where were we?” The man muttered to himself. He took a seat in a rather worn, overstuffed chair at a sturdy oaken desk. “Oh, yes, yes! … Have a seat, children.” Everyone looked around, but there were no more seats to be had. “Oh, excuse me,” he mumbled. Another short mumbling session ended in a snap of his fingers. A simple wooden chair for each person appeared out of thin air.
“Amazing!” Jillian gasped excitedly as they all claimed a seat.
Vergehen chuckled. He did like to impress the young ones. “First things first,” he muttered, “Where is that gremlin friend of yours? He was such an entertaining distraction on your last visit.”
Dalia spoke for the group. “Ado has seen fit to leave us I’m afraid. We are not really sure where he went,” she replied sadly.
“Too bad,” the old man mumbled. “And the boy, Teevo, your attendant I believe?”
“Lost to Drackmoorian hands, same as the king,” she swallowed hard as she spoke.
“Terrible,” he groaned, “I’m sorry, my dear. He was a fine young man.”
Dalia shook the thoughts from her head. “We have come about Tark. He fled with that tube, abandoning us during the night. I am certain he thought it best for our sakes, but I feel he needs us. On his deathbed, King Airos told him something that sent him into a rage. It was something about continuing the quest and being the chosen one. I don’t know what that means. We need your help in finding him, please.” Dalia lost her noble composure. She was on the verge of begging.
“Hmmm …” Vergehen sat quietly, absorbing everything the lady told him. “Your friend has embarked on a dangerous journey indeed. The item he carries is a sacred treasure of Kandair. It is proof of the royal lineage passed down from a time hundreds of years past. It is from the age of King Maisak Duvree.” All of their faces were blank. “I shouldn’t expect any of you to know of such things,” The old man chuckled. “It’s all knowledge mostly forgotten by the world. I don’t even know all the details myself. Only recently did I come by these facts. Anyway, let’s just say Tark carries an item of great power. It is an item the Dark Lord Meiron desires badly, and one he must not obtain at any cost. If that were to come to pass, it could mean a change in the lives of all on Pangias; and I don’t mean in a good way. I suspect that black-hearted bastard knows something we don’t, like how to use it for some dark purpose.” The man winked his bushy eye for emphasis.
“So you’re saying Tark’s definitely in danger?” Arianna asked.
“More than he can know,” the old man assured them. “The Dark Lord is not an enemy to be taken lightly. You must go to him at once. You are correct, Lady Dalia. He will need your strength. If nothing else, you can help to keep him sane. You alone may hold that key, young lady.” He directed the statement at Dalia and let it hang in the air for a moment. “The artifact he carries was not meant to be in the direct possession of mortals. By all accounts, it is just too powerful. Many stories of the past paint it as an item that has the influence to drive men mad. Airos carried it for a short time and the strain was terrible. That is why it was sealed away in the vaults of Talipax. The fact that Tark carries it this long is proof that he has been chosen by fate. Airos was wise to leave it with him.”
“But the king claimed the tube at The Council’s Reverie?” Arianna was confused. “How did Tark get it back again?”
“King Airos returned it to Tark unbeknownst to any of us,” Dalia offered the information sadly. “What is the artifact and what is it he must do with the item?” Dalia questioned the old man. She wanted desperately to understand the situation.
“That is the ultimate question, my dear. When the item of power is awakened, times will change until it can be put to rest once again, or so the legend says. In simple terms, he must put the item to rest. It appears as nothing more than a large gem.”
“How can he do that? How do you put a gem to rest?” Flade asked.
“Hmm … I don’t know,” Vergehen replied honestly. “Airos, if anyone, held that answer. I’ve discussed the matter with the queen and even she does not know more about the item.”
“Can you help us find Tark?” Dalia was becoming anxious. All the talk of Tark being in danger and losing his sanity was beginning to frighten her.
“I will do what I can, my dear. I fear that between the residue of Meiron’s vortexes and the presence of the artifact, I am ill prepared for the task. You see, if the item does not want to be located then no magic I call upon will do so. I won’t be able to lock onto Tark or the item of power. Before, I was able to lock onto to you, my dear. That is how I managed to contact you.”
“What about a different item?” Flade piped up excitedly.
“Such as?” The old man asked, curiosity sparking in his eyes.
“He has my pack with him. He took it by mistake. Could you locate that?”
“If he is actually wearing it, I doubt it …. Hmmm … Was there anything of importance to you inside the pack?”
“My favorite knife was in there! It was a gift from a dear friend.” Flade jumped at the train of thought.
“Brilliant! That just might do, my boy. Good thinking!”
Vergehen pulled a large tome from beneath his desk and began searching for something. He thumbed through the pages in deep thought for a long moment. All present sat silently awaiting his findings. Suddenly, he looked up from his search and seemed to realize everyone was still present.
“Yes …. Hmmm … Maybe it’s best the others get some rest while we continue. This may take a while. What is your name, my boy?” The old man spoke to the ranger.
“Flade Vizion at your service, my lord.”
“Very good. Flade and I will continue. I’ll have someone show the others to some food and rest. I’m sure you could use it.”
“I would like to stay, please,” Dalia spoke up.
“As you wish, my dear. I thought you might feel that way,” the old man winked. “While rooms are prepared, I’ll arrange a tour of the grounds for the rest of your friends.”
Shortly thereafter, a young page arrived to guide them all around Bromin. “Um, excuse me?” Ganze was waiting at the desk as the others were being led from the room. “As interesting as this all is, I’m not really part of their group. You see, I’m only here for my payment. I’m Ganze, the man you hired to lead them to The Council’s Reverie,” the gangly man smiled.
Vergehen looked up from his research in annoyance. “Hmm … You should have said something earlier. Yes, well I will arrange for that as well. For now you can wait with the others, please.”
Ganze wrinkled his long, sharp nose angrily, but was careful to hold his tongue. This resistance camp seemed quite volatile. He had already come this far. He could wait another day or so.
* * * * * * * * * *
Arianna, Jillian, Petre and Ganze were sent with the young page. The boy was instructed to attend to their every need. His first duty was to get them to a place where th
ey could wash up and get something to eat before their tour of Bromin.
“So, where do you two fit in now?” Ganze asked the two youngsters as he stroked his pet bird casually. Petre and Jillian just looked at one another in uncertainty. “That’s what I thought,” the man snickered. He was enjoying watching the two young ones squirming like fish out of water.
“Leave them alone!” Arianna snapped. The tall woman moved to stand between Ganze and the youngsters. “Why did you even bring that up? They have been very helpful. I’m sure they’ll have their choice of paths. There is an army gathering for a march that’s in need of soldiers. They could return to Timbre with the reinforcements, or if they like, they could even come with us on our search for Tark.” She smiled at Jillian and Petre warmly.
“After that little display of doom and gloom by the old man, I doubt you’ll find anyone who wants to join you on your suicidal journey, girl,” Ganze stated flatly.
“Not everyone is as self serving and cowardly as you are,” the priestess shot back angrily.
“Temper, temper, beautiful. We’ve already witnessed how they feel about you and your faith here. You wouldn’t want to cause another scene would you? Who knows what these men might decide to do with you. I can only imagine their reaction if they witnessed one of your freakish spasms. Even a woman of your kind could lose her welcome.” Arianna was obviously shaken by his statement. Ganze simply smiled back at her.
Suddenly, Petre stood between them. The youth punched the rodent man in the face, knocking him to the ground. “Watch your tongue! That’s no way to treat a priestess!” He growled.
The small, gangly man glared up from the ground. “I would think you even less likely to draw attention to yourself, boy, being a soldier of Drack-” Before he finished the word he was kicked in the side, shutting him up.
“Don’t even think about it!” Jillian hissed as she leaned over the small man’s prone form; her hands planted firmly on her hips.