Aggravation swept through Arderi. “So you give me nothing except more questions!” He slammed his fist onto his thigh in frustration.
Ragnor looked at him with a stern gaze. “Calm yourself, lad. I did be instructed to take you to a place where you will find the answers you seek.” Ragnor stood. “Come.”
Getting to his feet, Arderi glanced around the room. “Now? I have been on the road for more than three moons.”
Nodding, a deep frown on his face, Ragnor placed a hand upon the boy’s shoulder. “Aye. Master Rillion did be quite clear about this. I am to deliver you to Bin’Satsu on the first eve you arrive in Mocley.” At Arderi’s inquisitive look, he sighed. “Bin’Satsu be a place of refuge for all Tat’Sujen. There be forces at work within our Plane unseen by most that live here. Master Rillion did no wish to take the chance of you stumbling upon something you no be ready to deal with. There be no safe haven for you here in Mocley. So I must send you to Bin’Satsu. At least until you be trained.”
Picking up his pack, Arderi paused. “What of the widow and the boy. Will they be all right?”
Arderi saw a sadness pass over Ragnor. The man’s head drooped, and his shoulders slumped as if a heavy burden had been placed upon them. Reaching out, he grabbed Arderi by the elbow and led him into the entrance hall. Instead of heading out of the villa as Arderi had assumed, Ragnor led him up a flight of stairs and out onto a balcony overlooking the back garden. In the far corner, almost completely hidden in the shadows of the late eve, a dark haired woman sat on a bench. With her arms wrapped around her waist, she rocked slightly back and forth as if pushed by a gentle breeze.
“Clytus did love Lilaith. He did love her more than most men have the right to love. They both did love little Sindian doubly so. It shall no be easy for either of them. Yet, Clytus did be no fool. He always knew this day would arrive and did plan for it for many a turn of the seasons.”
Watching the woman grieve in silence by herself in the garden, Arderi now understood why Master Rillion had been so bent on completing his task.
Will I ever love so deeply?
Pulling his attention from the woman, he turned to Ragnor. “May I see the boy?”
“Sindian? He be asleep. The illness he has robs him of his strength.”
“I will not wake him. I would simply like to see him before I go.”
Nodding his head, Ragnor led Arderi down the hall to a dark room. A cool breeze wafted through the room from two large windows on the opposite wall. Waiting for his eyes to adjust, Arderi crossed the floor like a shadow to the form buried in the covers of the bed. He bent down. All that was visible of Sindian was a mop of sandy blond hair covering the boy’s head. With a gentle sigh, the boy rolled over, exposing his round face. The urge to reach out and cup the boy’s head in his palm bubbled up, almost overwhelming Arderi. He knelt there for many moments, studying the boy’s features.
I see much of your father in you, little one.
Something warm and wet landed on the back of Arderi’s hand causing him to start. Reaching up to his face, he wiped away tears from his cheeks that he had not known were there. A rustling from the doorway informed him that Ragnor was growing impatient. Reluctantly, he stood and returned to Ragnor’s side at the door.
Ragnor reached out and stopped Arderi by placing his hands upon his shoulders. He peered deeply into his eyes. “Once we leave, do no speak of the Tat’Sujen, nor ask me more questions. The wrong word heard by the wrong ear can be deadly. Do you understand me?” He kept his voice to a whisper, yet Arderi knew the man was deadly serious.
Arderi matched the man’s volume. “Aye, I will hold my tongue.”
With a heavy heart resting in his chest, Arderi strapped the sword, Dorochi, to his waist and followed Ragnor from the villa. Darkness had fallen in full, and lit torches now filled the courtyard.
A stablehand brought out two horses, each saddled and ready for travel. Ragnor reached over and took the reins of one, placed his foot in the stirrup, and swung his leg over the animal. Sitting comfortably, he gave Arderi an exaggerated look. “Well, lad. Mount up.”
Glancing from the horse to Ragnor, a sense of dread swept through Arderi. “I—” Swallowing hard, he chastised himself for being a country lout. “Master Ragnor, I do not know how to ride a horse.”
“You have no ever ridden a horse?” Ragnor laughed. “Well then, it be lucky we no have far to travel.” Dismounting, he handed the reins of both mounts back to the stablehand. “Let us be off, Young Master.” He clapped a hand on Arderi’s shoulder, and then walked out the main gate, disappearing into the dark street beyond.
Arderi glanced over at the stablehand leading the animals back to the stable and thought he saw the boy grinning. Breaking into a jog, he ran to catch up to Ragnor.
The late summer eve was a bit cool, and Arderi rubbed his bare arms as they walked along the mostly deserted streets.
“It be the Bay.”
Catching Arderi off guard, he looked over at his guide—the dark-skinned man barely visible in the low light. “What is the Bay?”
Raising an arm, Ragnor pointed off in the distance to his right. “The Glonlore Bay. It be the reason the eve be so chilly during this season.”
Nodding, Arderi tried to quell the chaos in his mind.
I have so many questions!
Picking out a thought at random, Arderi spoke to fill some of the silence that had fallen between them. “How long did you know Master Rillion?”
Looking over at him, Ragnor stared at him without answering as they strolled along. When he did answer, his voice quivered with loss. “For more winters than you did be alive, lad. Yet, if it no be for Clytus Rillion, I would be dead long before you did be birthed.” Gazing up at the sky, he ran a hand through his long hair. “I will miss him, make no mistake about that.”
The other questions racing through Arderi’s head were ones he promised not to ask, so he plodded along next to a man he barely knew, heading for a place that both thrilled and terrified him.
They did not walk far, and Arderi could not understand why Ragnor had wanted to ride such a short distance—barely a league. After about a quarter aurn, the two entered a brightly lit hostel. The sign above the door bore a picture of a sword embedded in a large reddish-tinted Crystal. The main room was a well-cleaned eating area. A large bar ran across the back of the room and a score or so tables and chairs were scattered everywhere else. Although the place was not filled, many of the tables held people, and several serving girls flitted about the room.
Ragnor caught the eye of the man behind the bar and headed toward him. Kicking a foot onto the footrest, he slapped some coin onto the counter. “Barkeep! My friend and I require food and a comfortable room for the eve.”
The barman nodded and scraped the coins from the bar. “Aye, sir. I have a room. If you will follow me.” The man stepped from behind the bar and headed off down the hallway that led deeper into the hostel. At the end of the corridor, the barman stopped at the last door on the right and fished out a ring of keys. Unlocking the door, he ushered them both inside. Instead of leaving, the barman entered as well and locked the door behind him. “Ragnor! What is the meaning of this?”
Glass containers, much the same shape as lanterns, flared to life as they entered the room, casting light that filled every corner, though Arderi could not say how they did so. The room the barman had locked them in reminded Arderi of the dining hall at his parent’s public home—only much smaller. A large table took up most of the room, cushioned chairs lining its edges. Opposite the door sat a large, cold fireplace. Tapestries hanging around the room completed the furnishings.
Taking the barman’s offered hand, Ragnor shook it with a smile. “Mort, it be good to see you after so long.”
“Aye, aye, and you as well, Ragnor.” Mort shot a glance at Arderi. “Yet, what brings you here?”
The smile slipped from Ragnor’s face. “I do come with a heavy heart, friend. Clytus… he be dead.”
Shock and horror filled the barman’s face. The man staggered backward and fell into a chair. “What? How?”
Taking a seat across from the man, Ragnor indicated for Arderi to join them. “He did fall in his quest to the Nektine.”
Mort covered his mouth with a hand. “Then young Sindian. He will not get what he needs?”
Shaking his head, Ragnor gestured at Arderi. “Nix. This young man did finish the task. Sindian shall live, the Gods willing.”
Looking at Arderi in awe, the barman reached out and took the boy’s hand. “My thanks to you, sir. You have done more than you will ever know.”
“I have additional news as well.”
A silence fell upon the room and the barman fidgeted. “Well, do not keep me in suspense!”
“Another has been found.”
Renewed awe sprang up in the barkeep and he looked back at Arderi. “You mean—”
“Aye, friend. Clytus did find him and send him here to me.”
Mort stood and paced the small chamber. “Are you certain? This is not something we can be wrong about. How I wish Master Rillion were here delivering the boy himself.”
Pulling a Crystal from his pouch, Ragnor handed it to the man. “You can hear it from Clytus’ own lips, if you must. Yet, the boy be of Sujen.”
“Have you lost your sense! Do not mention that before someone who is not bound!”
Ragnor raised his hands. “Settle yourself, Mort. The boy did be bound by Clytus.”
The man threw a hand to his head. “Before he was trained! What if he is found unworthy? Clytus has condemned this boy to death if he should fail.”
Condemned me to death if I fail!
“I am no sure of all the details. Yet, I do know Clytus would no have done such a thing if he did have any other choice.”
Arderi had sat quietly, listening to the conversation as best he could. Yet, he could not stay his tongue any longer. “I am here! Do not speak around me! What has happened to me?”
The barman turned and looked at Arderi as if seeing him for the first time. His look softened, and a fatherly smile spread over his lips as he reached out and placed a hand on Arderi’s shoulder. “You are frightened—”
Batting the man’s hand aside, Arderi shoved him away. “I am not afraid! I just want answers!” Anger pulsed through his veins, and he noticed that his hand now rested on the hilt of Dorochi.
“Calm yourself, lad!” Ragnor stepped between the two. “You be here to find your answers. Do no belittle what you represent to us. We did no simply lose a friend. We did also lose one of the most powerful men of our Order. You must give us time to wrap our minds around what you do present to us.”
Arderi forced himself to calm down, yet he did not remove his hand from his hilt.
“The boy is not a fair trade for Master Rillion!” Mort brushed himself off.
Ragnor shook his head and shot the barman a hard glance. “That be no up to you to determine. The Essence owns its will. We be merely servants. Clytus did send us this boy. Aye, he did bond him, and that may cause this lad no end of trouble. Still, that be no for the likes of us to discuss.” Pointing to the far wall, Ragnor stood to his full height. “You be the keeper of the way, of this I no challenge you. Yet, and do hold this well within you heart—Clytus bade me bond myself to this boy, which I did before we came here. If you no admit him, I can no abandon him.”
“You say you do not challenge me, yet you force my hand all the same.” Throwing his hands up in disgust, he walked to the far wall. “Oh, very well! The Essence owns its own and my feelings shall not deter it.” Mort reached into his shirt, pulled out a necklace, and lifted it over his head. An amulet, made of a plain circle of iron covered in rust and pocked on both sides, dangled from the man’s fist by an old piece of string. It looked about as worthless as anything Arderi had ever seen. Why the man wore it, Arderi could not fathom. Holding the amulet out at arms length, the man stared at it with an intensity Arderi found almost comical.
Has he lost his mind? It is a worthless old trinket.
Yet, as Arderi watched, the amulet began to glow. At first, Arderi thought the glow was simply a reflection from the strange lanterns hanging in the corners of the room. Soon, however, there could be no mistake. The reddish glow emanated from the medallion itself. The medallion started a slow spin upon its string, and the intensity of the glow increased. A red, jagged light, bright as the midday sun, soon pierced Arderi’s eyes, and he was forced to throw up a hand to deflect some of its intensity. When the room began to dim, Arderi, to his amazement, saw that Mort no longer held a simple iron disk hanging from a string. A thin silver chain now laced its way between the man’s fingers. It cascaded down to thread through a golden loop embedded into the top of a blood red Crystal.
“Like the one in Dorochi’s pommel.”
Arderi’s whispered comment received a grunt of a laugh from Ragnor. “Aye, lad, yet it no be the same. It be a Ka’gana Crystal, like the one that be in your sword, yet this one do no have the powers that yours do.”
The barman nodded. “Aye, this is merely a key.”
Still staring at the Ka’gana Crystal, Arderi loosened his grip upon the hilt of his sword. “A key to what.”
Mort flashed a sharp look at Ragnor, who motioned for him to continue. Letting out a sigh, the barman strolled to the far side of the room and removed a tapestry depicting men on horseback hunting in a wooded area. He re-hung it overtop one on an adjacent wall. The uncovered wall held beauty of its own. A small round fresco was etched into the wooden wall. Its intricate design of lines and curves all culminated into a carved circle at its center. Slipping the Ka’gana Crystal into the center hole, a loud click resounded through the chamber. The entire section of wall that contained the circular fresco snapped forward, then swung into the room like a door. It revealed a long stairwell descending into darkness.
Two unlit torches sat on either side of the entrance way, and Ragnor walked over and retrieved them. Picking up some flint and steel that sat on the fireplace’s mantle, he first struck one then the other, until both were lit. He held one out to Arderi. “Take this. You will need it for the rest of our journey.”
Striding forward, Arderi peered down the steps. They curved away to his right and disappeared from view. A deep, musty smell filled his nostrils. “Where does this lead?”
“To your destiny.” Ragnor thrust one of the torches into Arderi’s hand and slipped past. Arderi watched as the man descended the stairs, disappearing around the bend. The light from his torch played off the stone walls as it followed the man down.
“Best get a move on, Young Master.” The barman stood looking at Arderi. “The Undercity is a dark and confusing place. Not somewhere you can find your way out of alone.”
“What is the Undercity, and where is Ragnor taking me?”
“He is taking you to Bin’Satsu. The only protected place that our Order has. You will be safe there and receive all the answers you seek.”
Glancing again down the dark stairwell, a sense of foreboding crept into Arderi.
We could choose a path and be led to ruin, or be thrust into something that may lead us to greatness.
Swallowing hard, Arderi started down the stairs. Before he rounded the bend, he heard the door close behind him. A loud click ricocheted past him and echoed further off in the depths of the Undercity.
My only hope is that this is not a path that leads me to ruin.
Alant Cor lay on his bed staring at the ceiling when the knock resounded throughout his tiny sleeping chamber. His door swung open, and it astonished him to see so many standing in the hallway. Prince Aritian stepped into the small room, followed closely by Vanria Delmith. Alant swallowed his anticipation, and with muscles complaining, rose fr
om the hard thin mattress that covered his stone-slab bed. Swinging his feet to the floor, he stood, trying not to let the shaking of his knees show.
Calm down, I am not a boy anymore! I must keep my mind sharp for whatever they are planning for me.
Alant did not even flinch when his Tarsith fell cold.
"Good. You are ready." Prince Aritian smiled down at him with his thin, dark-black lips.
A smile that does not touch his eyes.
"Do you ever plan on enlightening us as to how you have come to understand our tongue?" After a moments pause, he shrugged his bony shoulders. "No? I did not think you would. The better for me, I guess. I absolutely detest speaking in the Human dialect. It is such a crude tongue." The Prince gestured with a thin gray arm, and Alant stepped out into the corridor.
Before he turned down the hall, Alant glanced up into the deep pools of Delmith’s black eyes, and found it rewarding when the Elmorr’Antien averted his gaze. Stepping past a host of waiting Elmorr’Antiens, most of which he had never seen before, he headed out of the Human quarters.
The door to Shaith’s room cracked open as Alant passed, and he saw a glint of ebony skin and one piercing green eye peek out. Tightening his lips, he closed his eyes and gave one slow shake of his head as he marched past her door. It eased shut, and Alant felt a wave of resolve slide over his heart.
If not for me, then to insure she will never have to go through this. Whatever I must do, this ends this very eve!
Once he passed through the archway that separated the Human sleeping chambers from the main hall, a pair of Gralet’nars joined them. Each carried a massive crossbow at the ready, along with their sickle-like blades strapped to their sides. They stood blocking one side of the hall, leaving no doubt as to which route Alant should take. After forcing Alant to turn down the main hall and deeper into the building, the two Warrior Servants fell in on either side of him. Their huge frames filled most of the wide hallway, leaving just enough room for Alant to walk between them. One of them gazed down at the boy with its lifeless, empty eye sockets, and Alant felt his air of confidence shatter like glass.
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