She said nothing, directing him to a wall to which she moved a large wooden shelf that was attached to some sort of bracket that allowed it to role perfectly flush with the wall, revealing a crude hidden opening. Jayla grabbed a nearby lantern and looked back at Jarak. “Follow me.”
He did just that and they stepped into a small room, the lantern she held aloft giving off plenty of light to view the space. It was a simple square room about the size of a small bedchamber, but what he saw on the far wall stopped him in his tracks, his eyes widening in surprise. “In Argon’s name I cannot believe it.”
“I didn’t know who else to tell. I thought I should inform you,” Jayla said softly.
Before him stood an altar. There was a small table against the wall and on the table was a large statue of Heln, the Saricon god. The black painted figure was about the size of a child and expertly carved from wood, depicting a muscular man holding a two handed sword before him. Heln’s head was covered with wavy hair that cascaded down the sides of his neck and over his massive muscular chest. Jarak had seen images of Heln before and there was no mistake…he was looking at an altar to Heln. He stepped closer and saw a heavy, leather bound tome, Heln’s horned helm symbol depicted in red against a black background. It was their religious book, and Jarak knew from his history classes that they called it their Torgot.
Jarak stepped closer and opened the black book. It was clearly written in Drak, the Saricon language. He knew a little Drak, but not enough to decipher anything. “This is an altar to Heln,” Jarak said, turning to face Jayla. “You don’t know anything about it?”
“Of course not,” she said, tapping her forehead twice with two fingers, the Argonian religious gesture for Argon and Felina. “I am Argonian.”
“Does anyone else know of this?”
She shook her head. “Just me. I found it accidentally while packing up my wares.”
“Good. Keep it that way. Tell no one. Let us go,” Jarak said as he walked past her and out of the room. They closed the secret opening and ascended the steps. Once in the kitchen, Jarak turned to Jayla again. “Thank you for informing me. Safe travels tomorrow and I’ll see you back in Cythera.”
“And to you, Prince,” she said, bowing only slightly. “And be careful. There is something not right about all this.”
Jarak couldn’t agree more. “I will.” Then he turned and left, his thoughts disturbed as he thought about the implications of what he had seen. Who had set up an altar to Heln? It made no sense. Did they have a spy in their midst? Jarak wasn’t sure what to do. But right now his main goal was to leave the garrison with as few casualties as possible. He would deal with the altar and what it meant once they were safely on the road to Cythera.
9
Chapter
I’ve always been fascinated with Scion Forging; the ability to create Kul-brite weapons and armor. Very few people possess the skills and attributes necessary to become Scion Forgers. There are therefore very few, making them extremely valuable. I know of only three in the entire Dy’ainian Kingdom. Amori, from Cythera, came from a small noble family in Kreb, to the northwest. Since he was a Merger, he had been guided towards the path of either becoming a Sentinel, or, if he were skilled enough, a Dygon Guard. But he seemed to have two left hands when it came to wielding a sword. So, he became apprenticed to the king’s blacksmith in Cythera. It was there that his skill with metal was developed, his Merger abilities allowing him to surpass the talents of his master in a few short years. From Cythera he was sent back to Kreb to apprentice under Caleren, the most famous Scion Forger, who, like most Scion Forgers, had learned his craft similar to Amori. After all, as a male noble gifted with Merger abilities you would more than likely end up serving the king with a sword. But if you were not skilled in that arena, then you have few choices, being a Scion Forger one of them. But those talents were even rarer and more often than not male nobles that lacked martial skill would end up working in the family business. Lastly, there was Ethrean, from Tanwen. He was the oldest of the three, nearly sixty winters, and by all accounts was having a difficult time mustering the strength to continue to forge. It won’t be long before he will have to retire.
Each man, not suited to the dance of the blade, had something that other Mergers did not. They were all able to use their auras to develop an understanding of the metal that no other blacksmith was able to do. This unique ability, which had been developed over time, enabled them to more easily heat, bend, and manipulate the incredibly hard steel. My understanding is limited but my research suggests that these craftsmen, during the forging of the weapon, give the blade an affinity for aura energy, infusing the steel with a need for it, as well as enabling the metal to actually enhance the power of any aura energy sent into it. The greater the Scion Forger, the stronger the blade and the more power it can handle. These forgers may disagree, but, from what I’ve learned, I believe that a blade forged by Caleren is unparalleled to any other. Perhaps there are other Scion Forgers in other lands, with skills equal or better than our own, but there is much we do not know.
Journal entry 99
Kivalla Der’une, Historian, Keeper of the records in Cythera, capital of Dy’ain
* * *
5090, 14th cyn after the Great Change
Keltius leaned against the railing of his ship gazing at the large city of Eltus in the distance, the gentle sway of the Dark Sea rocking him in a cradle of contentment, its waves and currents as natural to him as the winds and updrafts of air are to the hawk. The swarthy man was born of the sea. He had lived his entire life on the island nation of Argos. While still a boy he had become a deck hand, working on one merchant ship after another, learning the skills of navigation and maintaining a merchant vessel. Finally, after years of service on many ships, a rich merchant he had known for years offered him his own boat, transporting cargo across the Alsace Sea and sailing as far north as Tanwen.
Keltius was born under the rule of the Saricons. Years before his birth the Saricon horde had invaded the island nations of Argos and YaLara. He had been told that the people of Argos, including his father, had fought against the foreign invaders. But for the small nation of Argos that was like trying to run into a hurricane. They fought valiantly, but in the end the Saricon horde took the island nations, slaughtering any who would not convert. Keltius’ father had been killed, and his mother, fearing for her life, and the life of her son, had converted. So Keltius, like his mother, had become a follower of Heln, and he had been serving the Tongra of Fara, Kahn Taruk, for the last fifteen years, transporting supplies and men when needed.
He looked to his right and left, the flickering deck lanterns of Tongra Taruk’s fifty anchored ships sparkling in the darkness. He had never commanded so many, but was eager to prove his maritime skill as well as his loyalty to the Tongra. Two days ago they had unloaded ten thousand Saricon warriors, led by Karnak, along the eastern shores at the base of the Pyres Mountains. From there, Obaty, their Askarian guide, would lead them through the dangerous mountains along a secret path known only by the reclusive Askarian nomads. He was told it would take them a month to traverse the secret pass and emerge along the southern edge of the Sil Desert. Karnack’s orders were to lead his men across the Bitlis Sea on barges and claim the Dy’ainian lands north of Cythera. Then, once they had destroyed all resistance and cut off Cythera’s reinforcements and supply lines, they would then converge on Cythera.
Keltius was glad to see the stinking Saricons go. Even though he had lived among the hulking race his entire life, they still put him on edge. They were intelligent, and deadly in battle, but quick to anger, choosing steel over diplomacy to solve problems. Keltius could fight if need be, but he preferred negotiation to combat, which was perceived as weakness by the Saricons.
Now he was waiting. King Kaleck and his queen had been murdered over a month ago, setting Kahn Taruk’s plan in motion. With House Kaleck no longer in power, Eltus had initially experienced a period of chaos as rival nobles foug
ht for control of the city. But spies reported that they had hastily formed a temporary ruling council of nobles which was now governing the Kaelian people until the Saricon threat could be ended. Only then would they have time to choose which house would then rule Kael. The last thing they needed was civil war while foreign enemies were invading their lands. The Saricon armies were presently marching across the Kaelian Peninsula, and if their scouts’ estimates were correct, would be arriving at the city’s gates the following day. He had been informed by the Tongra that when he arrived off the coast of Eltus that the Kaelian navy would not attack, that they would be worrying about more pressing matters. Keltius was skeptical about how an attack could be avoided, but he figured he would find out soon enough. When the sun rose the next day, the Kaelian’s powerful navy would sail from their harbor to defend their city. If that happened, his armada would most likely be defeated. True, they had large strong ships of a Saricon design, but they could not match the speed and maneuverability of the Kaelian navy. All he could do was trust that whatever the Tongra had in mind would come to fruition tonight or the next morning. If not, they were doomed.
Just when he was about to turn away to head to his cabin for his evening meal, a bright flash caught his eye. Another sailor who was nearby coiling lengths of rope stepped to the railing. “Did you see that, Captain?”
Keltius looked closer. There it was again…another bright flash of orange light. “Looks like fire,” the captain said. More flashes lit up the sky, and soon, even at their great distance, the docks and boats could be seen as growing flames illuminated the scene with fires sprouting up throughout the docks. “It has begun.”
***
Thalon flew across the dark sky, the surging wind he had conjured spinning below him, lifting his body and hurtling him forward. He had three more of the clay balls remaining. He knew that Lyra was on the far end of the docks dropping her own explosive projectiles onto the ships below. He didn’t have much energy left in the fly spell but it would be enough.
The scene below him was chaos. Crewmen scurried about, shouting in alarm, awakening from their slumber and vainly trying to extinguish the flames. The incendiary weapons of the Saricons were quite effective. When they landed they exploded in pyroclastic fireballs which hurled serpentine rivers of fire across the decks. Thalon had been aiming for the bases of the masts and so far he had been deadly accurate. Sheets of fire shot up the masts, quickly igniting the coiled ropes and rolled up sails before spreading to the rest of the ship.
Gliding over another boat he dropped his projectile, the clay ball exploding in hot fire, engulfing two sailors near his target. Their screams were cut short as the deadly flames quickly charred them beyond recognition. Two ships later, he turned towards the docks and aimed for the predetermined area, hoping that Tulk and Ayden would be there as planned. He hadn’t entirely mastered the finer points of the fly spell and he was coming in pretty fast. The section of the dock where they had chosen to meet was located away from the Kaelian navy, near the wharf and the smaller fishing boats. Cargo boxes and kegs were stacked up along the wharf ready to be tallied and picked up by the merchants that had purchased them.
Thalon only had a few moments before he hit the dock. Glancing quickly around he saw several bodies sprawled across the docks. Good, he thought. Tulk and Ayden must have already dispatched any workers, guards, or fisherman in the vicinity, giving him a safe spot to land. Preparing his muscles, Thalon bent his legs and released the energy of the spell just before he hit the wood planks. As his feet touched the wood the momentum of his body caused him to trip up, slamming his body into its hard surface. Rolling across the dock, he lessened the impact some. But it was a hard landing.
He stood up painfully. Luckily nothing seemed broken.
“Nice landing,” Tulk, the giant Merger said as he materialized from behind the boxes, his sword dripping crimson. Ayden stood beside him, his black eyes blending in with the darkness.
Thalon ignored Tulk, and with practiced ease he tasked energy from Ayden, storing a small amount in his tarnum. “How did it go?”
Their job had been to sneak aboard the ships that were anchored in the harbor. There were fifteen of them and they had to start early in order to get to them all. Tulk had silently rowed a small boat to each ship, and from there Ayden climbed to the deck and poisoned the water supply. He had dispatched a few men that were about but most were sleeping. There were few that were more stealthy than Ayden, and he used every ounce of skill, avoiding guards when possible and silently killing some when necessary. It had taken them both most of the night, which was why Thalon and Lyra had not planned on starting their fire attacks until very late. The results of Ayden and Tulk’s work would not be witnessed until later, perhaps not until morning when the remaining ships that had not been destroyed sailed out to meet the Saricon Armada. But they would quickly be dead in the water as their crews succumbed to the deadly fast acting poison. Not everyone would die, but it would be enough to make the war vessels obsolete as they would not have the man power to run the ships affectively.
Suddenly they heard a whoosh of wind as Lyra swooped down toward them from the darkness. She dropped to the dock, lessening the impact by rolling forward and somersaulting to her feet, her short bow in her hand.
“Much more graceful,” Ayden said with a smile.
Thalon glared at him. “Shut up. She has practiced more.”
Out of habit Lyra tasked some energy from Ayden as she stepped towards them. “Well,” she said. “That was fun.”
“How did it go?” Thalon asked.
“I set fire to nine ships.”
“And I was able to burn eight.”
“We were able to poison the water supply of all fifteen ships,” Ayden said. “I was not detected.”
Everyone knew that Ayden was the most gifted thief of them all. He had spent his whole life working the streets of DosDronas in Layona. As a boy he had survived by stealing, which had caught the attention of the local thieves’ guild, who recruited him in his early teens. He quickly became one of their most profitable thieves. He had learned he was a Channeler at the age of sixteen, but he knew nothing of his true abilities. As time went on he learned some things about the Way on his own, but it wasn’t until he met Thalon that his full powers had been unlocked. They had been inseparable ever since.
The docks were now in pandemonium. Seventeen ships were engulfed in flames and their frantic crews, the ones that hadn’t yet been on board, rushed down the docks to try to save their ships. But they were too far gone by now. Thick smoke rose into the night air but the huge conflagration drove away the darkness. The remains of the navy, including the unmanned ships, their crews killed by the poison, would be defeated easily enough by Keltius’s armada if they were able to rally after the destruction from the fire and poison.
“We better go. The guard will be here soon as well as their Aura Mages,” Thalon warned.
As if on cue, a score of warriors wearing the official armor and green and gold capes of the City Watch rushed down the main dock. They were at least a hundred paces away, their attention drawn to the burning boats. Not one guard looked their way since they were so far away from the flaming destruction of the ships. This was why they had picked this particular rendezvous location to begin with. Suddenly a single warrior at the rear of the column stopped at the intersection of the main dock, looking down the dock to his right, and then to his left, right toward them. Even at the distance they could tell that this was no ordinary guard. He wore silver armor and he wore a fluttering cape of gold.
Thalon saw him smile. He must be an Aura Mage, his towd turned on, enabling him to see their auras as if they were shining stars. And, they had just tasked energy from Ayden, making their auras even brighter.
The Aura Mage shouted something to the men in front of him and twenty guards reversed direction and started running down the dock toward them. Each man carried a spear and a long sword.
Their escape plan
had been simple. Thalon and Lyra, after tasking more energy from Ayden, would enact the fly spell again and fly away to safety. Meanwhile, Ayden and Tulk would use their small boat to escape into the darkness. They had a prearranged spot along the coastline, just west of the city where they would meet. There they had horses and supplies and they would ride to meet Kahn Taruk, who by that time would be at the main gate of the city.
But now they had a problem. Thalon and Lyra couldn’t leave Tulk and Ayden, whose boat was tied off thirty paces down the dock toward the fast approaching men. They would not have enough time to get to the boat before they were overwhelmed. They would have to take care of these guards before disappearing into the night. But Thalon was worried. A lot of things could go wrong. Ayden could be killed and then they would not be able to task any clean energy from him, trapping them behind enemy lines. Or it would take them too long to kill these men and more guards and Aura Mages would come to aid them, overwhelming them in the process. But they had no choice. They had to kill them quickly.
Thalon quickly enacted a plan of action. “Lyra, lightning! Ayden, stay close! Tulk, once we hit the front lines cut a swath through and get to the boat! We will handle the Aura Mage! And Ayden, we will need more energy from you to escape so don’t row too hard!”
The guards were now close enough to throw their spears. Thalon pulled energy from his tarnum and quickly wove a protective shield before them. It was crudely done as he didn’t have the time to bind it properly, but it performed adequately, trapping the spears in mid-air, as they slowly sank through a dense, yet invisible, substance. In reality, the spears were trapped in his shield, and as the power unraveled, the spears sank slowly, finally dropping harmlessly to the planks below.
Lyra, wasting no time, put her hands together, also drawing energy from her tarnum. Concentrating on the spell, she spun the power into crackling energy, blue arcs shooting between her hands. Then she screamed and sent the energy forward, directing as many bolts as possible into the charging ranks of men. Five crackling lightning bolts struck the men in the front, their power catapulting the men backwards as the remaining energy arced across their armor, catching more men behind them in the devastating spell.
The Steel Lord: Book 01 - BannerFall Page 32