Remnants of the Order

by Hamish Spiers

  Dominicon then drifted up before the palace as he planned his next attack. He glided around the tower two times and then, abandoning any last shreds of subtlety, he lashed his tail out with tremendous force, bringing the uppermost levels of the palace to collapse upon themselves. Huge pieces of debris hit the ground below, smashing more levels of the palace in the process.

  One large stone segment crashed through the ceiling above Karn and he narrowly avoided being crushed. Then there was a noise like the loudest thunderclap he had ever heard as Dominicon hit the tower again. This time, it was the levels right above him that were collapsing.

  Karn ran to the closest window and, seeing a large turret adjoining the main tower five yards away, he leapt for it. With his fingers outstretched and channeling the power of the gift to travel farther through the air, he caught the turret as he fell, grabbing hold of the bricks while, behind him, the floor of the palace he had leapt from was crushed by the weight of the collapsing levels above.

  Karn then scrambled down the turret as fast as he could, marveling at the lengths that Dominicon was going to in order to kill him. It seemed the vicious beast would destroy the entire palace if it would do the trick.

  As he scurried down, hoping he was out of sight, Dominicon circled above the palace, possibly admiring his handiwork. But the dragon’s eyes were sharp and he saw the young mage again and dived at him.

  Karn looked up as the behemoth eclipsed the night, blasting another stream of fire at him. He let go, falling to outrace the flame, then he grabbed the brickwork above a window after falling twenty yards and swung inside. The window frame was incinerated as he hit the floor and rolled against the far wall of the room.

  Then, as he tried to get back up, there was loud crack as Dominicon slammed his tail against the turret with such force that it cracked right through its center, throwing the upper half against the main tower of the palace. Karn heard a tremendous crash as it shattered. Large stones and other pieces of debris fell all around him and he tried to dodge them but several rocks slammed into his shoulders and a piece of timber landed against his back, throwing him onto the rubble underfoot.

  Dazed, he summoned the last reserves of his strength, staggered to his feet once more and saw that all the levels of the turret above him had been destroyed. Dominicon had him exposed.

  Karn looked at the monster as it hovered over him. The dragon seemed to savor the moment and then he attacked, swinging his legs below him.

  Then, in desperate fury, Karn pulled out Shaala’s sword once more. He slashed the great beast and the sudden flash of pain made Dominicon pull away. The dragon roared in anger then dived at Karn once more.

  Then, as Karn braced himself, Dominicon let out another shriek that pierced his ears and it took him a moment to see what had happened. Standing on the other side of what was left of the turret, visibly shaken, was Shaala. And she had just thrown a spear into Dominicon’s side.

  “Go and join your stupid war!” she shouted. “You’re not wanted here!”

  Dominicon turned to face her, beating his enormous wings just enough to keep him in the air. Shaala trembled but she did not move. Then after a few drawn out moments, Dominicon lurched away. A wave of relief swept over Karn but it was not quite over yet for as Dominicon left, he clipped Shaala with the end of his tail. Caught off guard, she was knocked off her feet and lay whimpering.

  Karn ran to her, oblivious now to the great dragon that was flying away in the dark. The sound of its beating wings faded in the distance, drowned out by the howling wind and the rumbling thunder.

  “Shaala,” Karn murmured, leaning over her.

  She moaned softly.

  Karn tore some of her clothing from her stomach and saw dramatic discoloration under her skin. A sign of internal bleeding.

  “I’m sorry,” Shaala cried. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Hold on,” Karn muttered. “You’ll be all right.” He ran his hands over her stomach, using a magical healing technique that Morgiana had taught him.

  “Where’s Dominicon?” Shaala asked.

  Karn let out a breath of resignation. “He got away.”

  Shaala smiled and patted his cheek. “It doesn’t matter. You tried. I doubt Sól or Tal could have done better.”

  Karn smiled back but he didn’t allow himself to be distracted as he concentrated on her wound. Under his soft touch, he saw the discoloration fading from her skin.

  “That feels good,” Shaala whispered.

  “I’ve had practice,” he told her.

  He then sat up, giving her some more space; she would be all right. Then he looked around and saw that the evening storm was almost upon them. The howling wind broke against what remained of the tower and great curtains of rain swept over the dark plains.

  “I think we should get inside and get some more suitable clothing for a wet night,” he said. “If we stay out here any longer, we’ll be drenched.”

  He lifted Shaala in his arms as the rain fell down more heavily and carried her over a dubious structural join to the main tower of the palace. The rain lashed against the walls as they went inside.

  XVI. A Rainy Night

  Two or three hours later, the rain was still falling heavily. Now covered in thick cloaks to keep them dry, Karn and Shaala darted towards a small inn. With all the damage Dominicon had done, the palace of Bellasaire seemed likely to collapse at any moment and staying the night there was not an option.

  Once inside the inn, Karn passed by the few patrons in the bar to the owner while Shaala stood dripping in the doorway. She watched as Karn handed some coins over the man, who looked like he was charging far too much for his rooms. Thankfully though, money was not a problem. Over the years, trading bits and pieces of the vast horde of valuables she had found in Bellasaire, Shaala had amassed enough of it not to worry over little expenses.

  “I’ve got a room,” Karn told her, coming back with a key. “Come on.”

  Shaala followed him up some stairs. The room was at the end of the corridor and would provide them with plenty of privacy.

  When they were inside and Karn had locked the door, Shaala sat down on the simple bed, looking at the rain splashing against the window. Karn pulled up a chair and sat in front of her.

  “You should get some rest,” he said. “I’ll keep watch.”

  “Don’t be silly,” she replied. “You’re in as much need of sleep as I am and there’s room enough for both of us here. You don’t need to keep watch.”

  “I’m all right,” Karn said. Sitting in the small room alone with her, he felt nervous. From the very first moment they met, he had felt a strong attraction to her and lying on the bed beside the object of his desire, being so close and yet so far, seemed more than he could stand.

  “How did you become a mage?” Shaala asked him after a few moments, drawing him out of his thoughts.

  She was probably just trying to make conversation, Karn thought, but perhaps she sensed his unease. “I don’t really know,” he told her. “I’ve had the gift for as long as I can remember, although I never really tried to harness it at first. But after my parents died, which would have been when I was about eleven, I started drawing on it more and more. Although it wasn’t until I was about eighteen that I met Sól and the others.”

  “You were alone for all that time?”

  “Yes.”

  Shaala gave him a lingering look of sympathy. For a short time, neither of them spoke.

  “How did your parents die?” she then asked.

  “Killed by the Shavla,” Karn told her. “We were ambushed on the road.” He shook his head. “I don’t know why. I’ve never understood it.”

  “Never?” Shaala asked. “I gave you the answer to that tonight.”

  Karn looked down. He wondered why Shaala had asked him the question. The ambush by the Shavla was something he had tried to forget for years, not an easy feat with his clarity of memory. Then he looked back at Shaala, frowning. “The marshal of Aracea. Marshal
Artaeis is a mage. The Shavla are mages too.”

  Shaala nodded. “They’re mages. Not mages like you or your companions though. Not even like the surviving lieutenants of Strahd the Invoker who roam with the Angdar. As far as I can tell, their only real skill in the gift is the ability to hear the voice of their master and carry out his orders. But there are the captains. And I suspect that there are more powerful mages posted in secret throughout Marshal Artaeis’ domain. And I think I know where they come from.”

  “In the war between the remnants of the order and the fallen mages,” Karn said, “Askenroth made an orb that helped him find and hunt down enemy mages.”

  “The orb of Askenroth,” Shaala said. “I know my history.”

  Karn nodded. “Right. But Sól says there’s another orb like that. It’s why we generally stay where we do. Our sanctuary, as we call it, was enchanted long ago for use as a training ground by the first mages. The area seems to baffle this orb.” He paused before continuing. “However, all this time, we’ve thought we were hiding from Strahd’s lieutenants. Dumb Angdar on occasions would ambush us, appearing to have anticipated our plans in advance and we always thought it was those lesser mages using something Strahd had left behind. But if Artaeis and those mages are working together, and if the Shavla are mages who can hear Artaeis’ commands, then Artaeis must be using the orb to track down anyone in his lands with the gift.”

  “Recruiting,” Shaala said. “As I see it, the Shavla were after you. They hoped to capture you, fill your head with their ideas, their beliefs, and turn you into one of them. That is the answer you were looking for.”

  Karn’s eyes then lit up and he slapped his thigh with enthusiasm. “Shaala, do you realize that what we’ve discovered here could turn the war around overnight?”

  Shaala shook her head. “You’ve lost me. What do you mean?”

  “The people of the eastern lands are being used for Artaeis’ own ends,” Karn said. “They’re unwitting pawns. But if they found out the truth – if we told them – they would turn on Artaeis and then all the lands of the Greater Realms would be of one accord. We could unite against both Artaeis and the Angdar. All of us. Erahil. Ilara. Maharei. Valahir. Eresdrach. Ungvemhaast. Un’vari –”

  “But how could we prove it, Karn?” Shaala asked. “Supposing we could find an audience with an Aracean commander, what would we tell him?” She shook her head. “We can’t do anything, Karn. We may be mages, you and I, but at the end of the day, we’re just two people.”

  Karn was quiet for a few moments. Then he leaned forward and held Shaala’s hands. “If you come with me, I think I can find a way.”

  “How?”

  “Trust me.”

  Shaala nodded. “All right.”

  Another silence fell over them and they sat looking at each other, their hands still clasped.

  Then Shaala leant forward and kissed Karn on the lips. Karn kissed her back, letting go of her hands and wrapping his arms around her. Then Shaala kissed him again and Karn closed his eyes, letting all his thoughts, anxieties and painful memories disappear, while the evening rain splashed against the windowpanes.

  XVII. Farewell to Arahir, Farewell to Hellesa

  The next morning, after Karn had made some necessary repairs to it, he and Shaala set off for Kalishar in the same boat that he had sailed out of Ensari in a week earlier. The sea was calm now, the sky was clear, and it would not be long before they reached the safety of Kalishar’s harbor.

  The following day, an Ilara scout arrived at the garrison of Arahir. Tal greeted him as he alighted from his steed. “Good morning.”

  “Good morning,” the scout replied. “I bring word from Lord Adeus. The reinforcements and provisions you requested are on the way and they should be here shortly. Also, Lord Adeus is coming here personally.”

  “If he’s not needed in Ensildahir, why doesn’t he go directly to Kalishar?” Tal asked.

  “He will more or less,” the other man replied. “But he thought with the garrison secured, you’d want to be on your way to Kalishar as soon as possible. He suggests that you go ahead with the horses. When he arrives, he’ll lead the rest of the men you have here down the eastern side of the mountains along with another thousand from Ensildahir.”

  Tal smiled. “Good thinking. Be sure to thank the commander for me when he arrives.” He then went to the guard house and found Keld. “The supplies are nearly here,” he told him. “You can go anytime you want.”

  Keld mounted his steed, with Gandon, Lorial and seven others around him, bringing his group to ten strong. It was not a lot but it was enough for his purposes.

  “Are you absolutely sure Prince Nabahar would be fine with you heading north with us?” he murmured to Gandon, “instead of helping set up the defences in Kalishar?”

  His friend smiled. “The prince would be proud to have a representative of Saharei helping the people of Valahir.”

  Keld smiled. “Fair enough.” He then turned to the others. “We have a long journey ahead of us. We will cross the Avahast west of the bend. The bend’s too close to the main eastern road and I’m fairly certain the Angdar use that road heavily. After we cross the river, we’ll stay close to the foot of the mountains, pass through the vale of Orishelm if we can and then approach the west branch of the river from behind the enemy fortifications there. It’s about two hundred and fifty miles on the map. And assuming we make good progress, it’ll be about eight or nine days. Give or take. If any of you would rather go south with the main contingent, then now’s the time to speak up. I won’t hold it against you.”

  The expressions on the faces around him were proud and resolute. There were a few smiles.

  Keld smiled too. “Very well then. We ride north.”

  The following day, Karn and Shaala reached Kalishar, a city of high towers and thick walls. Wedged against the steep rocky slopes of the southernmost mountain of the Entruscian range with inhospitable desert to the east and its harbor accessible only by sea, the sole city of the once fertile land of Maharei was well protected. Although, as he approached it, Karn wondered how well it would withstand an attack from Dominicon.

  From a tower on the wall, Morgiana, who had been watching the strait, saw Karn and Shaala arrive and she met them in the harbor, accompanied by some men of Maharei. Together, they escorted them to an open garden before the palace, a splendid building that rose high over the surrounding city, with glistening bronze minarets, flowering plants overhanging stone ledges and balconies from which observers could see miles out to sea.

  The men then took their leave so Morgiana could talk to Karn and Shaala in private.

  “Karn,” she said. “It’s good to see you again. Queen Heptapshu sent a message here to let me know you had been on a little trip.” She then turned to Shaala and smiled. “And you must be Shaala. The queen mentioned you in her message as well. Welcome to Kalishar. I’m Morgiana Kyndeera.”

  “A pleasure,” Shaala replied, extending a hand that Morgiana accepted. “Karn has told me a great deal about you.”

  “Has he?” Morgiana asked, still smiling. She glanced at Karn. “And has he said good things?”

  “I’ve told Shaala that you can help us turn this war around,” Karn said.

  “Me?” Morgiana asked.

  “Before we reached Ensari,” Karn said, “you told us how you had managed to reveal the memories of that little sparrow. Vivid images. Sounds. In your mind, you saw what the sparrow had seen. You heard what the sparrow had heard.”

  Morgiana looked at the young man in fascination as she followed the trail of his thought.

  “True,” she said.

  Karn nodded to his newfound love and hesitated. If she entered Shaala’s mind, Morgiana would discover the intimate feelings they now shared but if he had to allow someone else to enter Shaala’s mind, then there was no one better than Morgiana. Until he had met Shaala, she had been the only person he had ever confided in fully.

  “Then see what Shaal
a saw,” he said. “And hear what she heard.” He turned to Shaala. “Will you be all right?”

  Shaala nodded and held out her hands. “I’m ready.”

  Giving Karn one last glance, Morgiana reached out and held Shaala’s hands. Then she shut her eyes, letting in the sounds and images as Shaala recalled them. She exhaled a long breath as the rush of memories came to an end and opened her eyes, lowering Shaala’s hands and letting them go.

  “We must tell the others,” she said.

  “Agreed,” Karn said. “But that’s not what we need you for.”

  “Then what do you need me for?” Morgiana asked.

  “We need to find an Aracean commander,” Karn said. “Someone high in the ranks or even a governor of one of the regions in the east. And we need to show him what you just heard and saw. How can Shaala reveal her memory to someone who doesn’t have the gift?”

  Morgiana’s gaze drifted down for a moment. “Projecting a memory rather than drawing it out.” She looked back at Karn. “I think I can find a way to do it and then teach you both. But in the meantime, why don’t we find you some quarters? Rooms in the palace.” She smiled at them with a knowing glint in her eye. “Perhaps shared quarters would be most appropriate.”

  She thought Karn might have given her a little bit more of a reaction than he did. She looked at him again and frowned. “What’s wrong?”

  Sól Eydís was standing by the railing of a balcony outside one of the upper levels of the palace when Karn found her.

  She smiled. “Hello, Karn.”

  “Hello, Sól,” Karn replied. “You’re back, I see.”

  “Yes, I’m back,” Sól said, still smiling.

  “You met up with the Ulak, I take it?”

  “I did.”

  “Because I notice none of them are in the city yet.”

  Sól chuckled. “Have you checked every street and alcove since you arrived here?”