Taragon Stein: The Search For The Soul Crystal

by Jason L Crocker

  A nervous looking guard outside the entrance of the tower stood stiffly to attention at the Governor’s approach. With a wave of Talak’s hand, the guard sprang into action and began turning a large black handle on one of the sturdy looking entrance doors that led into the tower. He then proceeded, with some effort, to push both doors inwards until they were fully opened. With his task completed, the guard stood to attention once again. Talak strode through the entrance, and our party followed.

  The interior of the tower was very much as I imagined it would be. The flaming braziers that were positioned onto the grey walls added their light to what little shone through the small of the arrow slit windows. To my left, a stone staircase spiralled upwards into floors unseen. Leaning against the curvature of the staircase was a number of large, strong looking wooden beams, probably placed there to bolster the door’s defences against any potential attackers. Following the curve of the wall upwards, I could just make out in the gloom above, the ceiling rafters that supported the next floor of the tower above. The air was musty with the smell of burning charcoal and old stone.

  Talak crossed the cavernous entrance hall heading towards a large door set into the northern wall; another door could also be seen against the eastern one.

  As we moved to follow across the stone flooring, the light around began to dim. I turned behind to see the guard who had allowed us entry, push close the thick double doors of the tower’s entrance.

  Talak opened the door in front of him and disappeared into the room beyond. Following the Governor, I entered what I took to be his personal quarters. The spacious room was lavishly decorated with an assortment of fine looking furniture that had been neatly arranged all around the chamber. Not so neat was the huge table that dominated an area close to the far wall, stacked with an assortment of maps, papers, and official looking documents, it almost looked as if it could hardly support the weight that burdened it. A large leather bound chair sat directly behind the table, and behind this hung two huge banners that stretched from ceiling to floor. One depicted a giant stag before a full round moon on a background of white, and the other showed three silver towers in a triangle formation against a background of black.

  To my left stood a large bookcase filled with volumes of old looking books, some of which were as thick as my arm, and an overflowing clothing chest stood on the floor against the wall to my right. Two stone steps lead up to a curtained area over to the right of the room behind which could be seen a large four poster bed that looked as if someone had literally just rolled straight out of it! Paintings adorned the walls, and tall candelabras lighted every corner of the luxurious accommodations.

  Obviously, the Governor enjoyed his comfort.

  Talak crossed the room, carefully avoiding some wine glasses and a half-eaten leg of ham that lay on the floor in doing so, then disappeared behind the curtain. Short moments had passed before he re-emerged wearing a big leather gauntlet on his right hand, on top if this gauntlet sat large bird of prey.

  The Governor carried the bird over to where we stood and stroked it under its chin as he walked.

  “Gentlemen,” announced Talak in proud tones, “this is Sky.”

  “A beautiful looking bird,” observed Baram.

  “Bird!” snapped the Governor. “Bird indeed! It’s a Scandonian War Hawk man, and a damn fine one too!”

  “Well I hope you’re all feeling fit,” he continued with a chuckle as he exited the room.

  I was beginning to wonder if he ever stayed in one place long enough to have a proper conversation.

  Following the Governor from the room, I crossed the entrance hall again and watched in dismay at the sight of his sheepskin coat disappearing around the bend in the spiralling staircase. Giving pursuit, we started our climb.

  Jaramel followed first, and on Baram’s insistence, I followed after, leaving the large weaponsmith to bring up the rear.

  For a sturdy man, I was quite surprised by the speed at which the Governor tackled the stairs. Jaramel was doing equally as well keeping close on the heels of the Governor; his light frame bounded seemingly effortlessly up the steps. Baram, however, was quickly lost from sight, somewhere I think, between the second and third floors.

  The stairs continued on, always circling, always upwards, the only respite to be had came when they opened themselves out to allow access to the next floor. My legs were now feeling like lead, and my thigh and calf muscles constantly complained from the harsh treatment they were receiving, I even found myself feeling somewhat lightheaded and slightly disorientated as I continuously focused on the back of Jaramel’s fast moving boots up the punishing stairs. Just when I thought I would have to stop and rest, the stairway suddenly opened out for the seventh time since the infernal climb, to what I hoped to be the top of the tower and the end of my ordeal.

  Several deep breaths later I risked looking up…

  “There you are man!” rumbled a slightly flushed, but otherwise fine looking Governor Talak. Jaramel stood next to the Governor, and I’m not sure, but I think he was actually smiling?

  I checked my surroundings.

  I was standing in a large circular room as big as the tower’s base; no door or exit could be seen save the one by which I had entered. Jaramel and Talak were both standing in the room’s centre before a small flight of wooden steps that led up to a hatch positioned in the ceiling. But by far the most interesting features of the room had to be the various defensive mechanisms placed all around the surrounding wall. Some resembled small catapults; others were more basic in their design and consisted of little more than an angled chute leading to a hole in the wall. There was also a solid looking iron cauldron suspended over a blackened hearth to the south of the room. A stone ramp had been built leading from the cauldron to a long slot in the outside wall. Judging by the location of the cauldron I surmised it to be positioned somewhere high above the tower’s entrance.

  “Come on then,” bellowed the Governor from where he stood. “Up we go.” With that, the Governor climbed the staircase in the room’s centre and banged upon the hatch above with his fist. Seconds later the hatch opened, bathing the Governor and Jaramel in the light of an afternoon sun. Moments later and both had disappeared through its opening. I took a few careful steps forward, just in case I had lost the ability to walk in a straight line. Once satisfied that I had not, I followed.

  As I climbed the last of the stairs into the daylight above, a brief image of Baram lying faced down somewhere upon cold stone steps filled my mind. I allowed myself a small smile as I entered through the opening.

  The hatch unsurprisingly led to the tower’s ramparts. Here the world opened up before my eyes in every direction I turned. Trees, rivers, forests, plains and mountains, all were on display for the magnificence of my view. To the south, the rolling rich landscape disappeared through green fields, and lush forests of roads travelled. To the west a tree-lined route raised and lowered with the roll of the land, in the far distance of which I could just make out the shadowy form of another tower, its positioning would mean that it could only have belonged to the western fort of the Divide. A look to the east exposed a more rugged view, rocks and crags were all that was on offer here, the last remnants of the Talon mountain range perhaps? These continued eastwards until the landscape vanished from view into a low cloudbank that looked as if it had rolled inland from the sea. I guess on a clearer day the eastern tower could also be seen here too.

  The tower's top contained little. I was standing next to a central flagpole which proudly displayed the dual standards of the Divides guard and the Kings, side-by-side in unified defiance of the north. The only other visible features to be seen were piles of rocks and stones that lay stacked in convenient locations close to the tower's edge. There were also two other guards stationed here, one was talking to the Governor with Jaramel in close attendance near to the northern wall, whilst the other kept a vigilant watch on the eastern horizon.

  “Still nothing then?” asked
Talak as I neared.

  “No sightings whatsoever sir,” replied the guard.

  The Governor nodded his head in thoughtful contemplation.

  “Well go down and wait in the ballista room, there should be a big fellow coming up the stairs shortly. When he does, send him up here.”

  “Sir.” Acknowledged the guard with a salute before walking off.

  “Well Sky, it’s time for you to go and see Degrim again.” The hawk on Talak’s arm reacted as if it knew what was about to come.

  So this was how our arrival was known.

  The Governor reached into a side pocket of his coat and produced a small rolled piece of parchment. Then with careful precision, he inserted the message into a tiny leather tube that was fastened about the hawk’s leg. Once happy with its placement he pulled a cord at the tubes end and sealed off the contents within.

  “All set!” remarked Talak with a grin.

  The Governor then removed the hood, which until now had blinded the hawk’s sight, and the bird, in turn, stretched its wings in anticipation of its flight. Talak turned to face the south, then raising his arm aloft he gave a single word of command. “Fly.”

  The majestic bird soared into the air with a cry of its call. Aided by a swift tailwind, it was not long before it just became a speck in the distance. The Governor watched its departing as attentively as if it were an only son going off to war. I thought it best not to disturb him at this moment. Jaramel, however, gave a discreet cough.

  “Damn fine hawk that,” remarked the Governor for the second time that day.

  “At present, we’re trying to train two more hawks to fly between the west and eastern forts.” The Governor frowned in thought. “Not had as much luck with those two as yet, though.”

  Just at that moment, an exhausted looking weaponsmith made an unceremonious appearance through the opened hatchway. Once on the battlements, he straightened his posture before walking over to us with as much dignity as he could muster.

  “Quite a climb that,” puffed a red-faced and sweaty looking Baram as he came awkwardly to stand before us

  “Indeed,” I replied with a smile.

  “Good!” barked the Governor. “Now we are all arranged. What in a whore’s name is this all about?”

  Once again I produced the King’s parchment for the Governor’s eyes.

  Talak took hold of the scroll, broke the seal, and read its contents with attention.

  It must have been all of several seconds later before he burst into a fit of uncontrollable, and rapturous laughter.

  “You three… want to travel out there!” Talak jerked his thumb backwards to indicate the bleak brown flats of the Nazoran battle plains behind him and to the far north that lay beyond.

  “Jaramel turned to look northwards. “That is our road Governor,” he announced.

  “Jaramel,” called Talak in a subtle, calming voice. “I like you, you’re not like that stuffy master of yours, but to journey to the north now would surely mean your death. There’s something brewing out there my lad, and you can believe me it's going to be a whole stew of trouble.”

  “Nevertheless Governor, it is a journey we must undertake,” replied the mage.

  “Well I know you better than to ask you your business, but if you all want to go and throw your lives away for nothing, then it will be no concern of mine.”

  “Your concern is duly noted Governor,” said Jaramel with a small bow and a smile.

  The Governor slowly shook his massive red head. He then eyed the parchment again before stroking at his unkempt beard in thought.

  “It says here that I am to aid you in any way I can, but I’ll be damned if I’m sparing any of my men on a fool's errand.”

  “We ask for none.” I interrupted.

  Governor Talak rolled his head back to give a mocking laugh.

  “Hah! If I were you man, I’d be asking for all of them!”

  Jaramel intervened again. “Whatever aid you can give, would be appreciated,” he said humbly.

  The red giant looked at the mage disapprovingly, then sighed with resolve.

  “Show me this map it mentions then.”

  I produced the uncompleted map that I had received from Luka for the Governor’s inspection. He studied the map for several moments before replying.

  “Not much to go on is it?”

  “It is all that we have,” replied Jaramel solemnly.

  Talak nodded understandingly.

  “One of my scouts has been more successful than any others. He has ventured deeper and stayed longer in the northern territories than any other man I know. I shall have him update this map of yours as best he can.” Talak looked up and eyed the guard near to the eastern wall.

  “Guard!” roared Talak in a voice like thunder.

  The guard responded by glancing around himself before turning to face the Governor.

  “Yes, You!” The Governor motioned with his hand. “Get over here,” he ordered.

  The guard dutifully responded as swiftly as he could.

  “Sir?” saluted a nervous looking guard. Talak glared at the soldier.

  “Take this map to Jantar, have him update it as best he can then tell him to meet me in my quarters an hour after sunset.”

  The guard took hold of the map, saluted once more, and then made a move for the opened hatchway.

  Governor Talak turned to Baram.

  “You!”

  “Me?” Responded Baram surprised.

  “You look like a man who enjoys a good meal?”

  Baram smiled. “Well, I …”

  “Good! Well if you can still walk then follow me. It’s the least I can do, and it will probably be the last decent meal you’ll ever eat anyway!” The Governor slapped Baram upon the shoulder as he led him away deep in conversation. I was left with Jaramel to follow.

  “Colourful and cheery,” I commented to the mage.

  We returned to the Governor’s personal quarters, and on his orders, three young pages dressed similarly to Ethandaril began busily clearing the long table of all its maps and papers. Once free from its load it was then repositioned in the room’s centre along with four chairs. It was then piled up again, but this time it was laden with tray upon tray of assorted meats, steaming spiced potatoes, and flagons of red wine.

  The meal was mainly meat. Thick, fat and full of juices, most of which ended up in the beards and clothes of both Talak and Baram while they ate. They talked together like old war comrades, discussing everything and nothing as if they had years of catching up to do. Looking at the two large men tearing into another roast of lamb, their mouths already full of food, I could not help but wonder, considering their physical similarities, if they had shared the same mother? I looked a little harder…. Their brow, jaw, and noses, were all picked from the same orchard. I made a mental note to enquire after Baram’s parentage at a later date.

  The Governor had turned out to be a little more than I expected, but I wasn’t disappointed. He talked little about himself at the table, staying close to subjects that concerned him, such as the north, and matters regarding the benefits to be had from taking a broadsword into battle. The current topic of conversation, which was being demonstrated by the Governor upon a leg of lamb, was how quickly someone could snap a man’s neck.

  But for all his faults, Governor Talak commanded an aura of respect and authority that radiated around him wherever he went. He was the type of man who knew how to command the hearts of men upon a battlefield, and I for one was pleased to have been given the chance of meeting with this hero of the north.

  “That’s bollocks!” said the Governor argumentatively to Baram in a loud voice. “Any man knows you’re better off with a blade than a bow upon a battlefield!”

  Once we had all eaten our fill, we returned to our quarters to await the later meeting that we were also required to attend.

  Baram collapsed upon his bed and groaned. “Urgh, I couldn’t eat another bite if I tried.” I smiled at the c
omment.

  “Then it is just as well my friend, as I don’t think you left anything to eat!”

  Baram mumbled something unintelligible before turning on his side to sleep.

  Jaramel sat crossed legged upon his bed. He looked as if he was in some kind of a meditating state. His eyes were closed, as was his mouth, and his hands rested loosely at his sides.

  Still another two hours before our scheduled meeting. I was not tired. I thought about rest but knew that if I had tried, I would not have been able to. At the dinner, the Governor had hinted of our departure to be on this night. Something about a dark moon and moving unseen.

  I looked at my bed once again and shook my head at the thought, so I decided to go for a walk instead. Moving to the door I quietly closed it behind me, sealing in Baram's snoring as I did.

  The courtyard beyond was a quieter place than it had been previously in the day. Soldiers still patrolled the walls and crossed my path, but with the approaching of the night, and the disappearing of the day’s sun, the whole fort descended into a state of calm. It was almost peaceful.

  I found myself alone. Something I had not been since leaving that damned Fangores lair back in Turon. I headed towards the stables with Storm in mind. As I walked, I wondered to myself if there were any women in the fort? I certainly hadn’t seen any as yet, but there was always hope.

  I found Storm happily chewing his way through a bag of horse feed when I entered the stables. He acknowledged me with a look and a stamp of a hoof before returning to his food. As I stood and stroked his mane, I watched with interest the stable hands going about their work. I watched them moving from stall to stall, methodically checking each of the horse’s hooves, teeth, and coat before leaving them their food and moving on to the next. There was an air of pride attached to them as they went about their work, and why not. Most of the horses stabled here belonged to the cavalry guard of the fort, and where would a horse guard be without his well cared for mount? Even our uncharacteristic packhorse appeared to be happy, as much as a horse could seem happy without him actually telling you at any rate. Reassured with the knowledge that Storm was being well cared for, I exited the stables.