by G. B. WREN
“Oh, I see . . . yes, that would make you suspicious of my motives,” responded Liam. “When news reached me of my wife’s infidelity, I did, at first, want to lash out, to have her removed to the most remote area in the Soronyen province—where she could ply her charms among the primitive tribes that flourish there. But since I chose to covet her beauty and youth, while dismissing the rather glaring flaws of her character, I should not have been surprised that she would falter in our marriage.”
As they resumed their stroll, Leanna considered every word Liam uttered for their sincerity.
“However, to the point of your question; when I realized that there was no other who was closer to Gervest’s secrets than Luciena, well . . . it was not an opportunity I was willing to abandon.”
“You are now using Luciena for your own gains?” asked Leanna, shocked that her query could be true.
“Not quite. I am allowing my wife’s deceit to be an unwilling conduit that feeds Gervest misinformation, and when he acts upon perceived threats to his sovereignty, he will not recognize the real ones,” he revealed. “And now, Leanna, have I put myself in peril, or within your circle of trust?”
“A final question, how did you intend to threaten Gervest’s sovereignty?”
“I assure you by no means that would cause him harm.”
Leanna stared into Liam’s eyes and could detect no pretense.
“Then, we must act as one. I have been informed of a gathering in the castle tonight. I would like you to attend—if you are willing.”
“What is the purpose of this gathering?”
“To form alliances and to share information.”
“I must escort Luciena back to Avilbrook, but I will return afterwards.”
“Arrive on horseback, soon after the setting sun, and I would advise that you dress in attire that will not draw attention from Gervest’s guards. A chambermaid will meet you at the western entrance and escort you,” said Leanna.
Liam nodded and delayed his exit for one last comment.
“I must admit to surprise that you would trust me so easily.”
“My trust did not come with ease, Liam. I have always known you to be trustworthy in all matters that affect the sovereign, and his desire to bring peace and prosperity to all the lands. I have found no cause today to doubt my previous opinion. However, until we spoke, I was not aware of the degree of trust you extended to me.”
* * *
Loran and Topen were seated at the table in Loran’s room when the chamber door crept open. Leanna entered and gushed with relief at the sight of Topen.
“I am so grateful you are here. I did not want to place undue concern on Loran, but I knew we would need the best of fortunes to draw you to us in time.”
“Loran has told me of the changes in Gervest and Gilvius.”
“Can you detect the presence of the blackened stones?” asked Leanna.
“The blackened stones do not bond as the others. Their use is detected by the mark they leave on the body.”
“Have you seen an unusual dark mark on Gervest?” Loran asked her mother.
“No, but Gervest has kept his distance from me for months.”
“Loran told me that you have suspected an influence for some time,” said Topen.
“One of our chambermaids told me a story that makes me think Gervest has been manipulated, at least since his sixteenth birthday.”
Topen nodded at Leanna’s remark and searched his memory.
“I think evil has been very patient, or it has not passed through time as Gilvius and Gervest have,” announced Topen.
“Do you imply that . . . we have been besieged again by your realm?” asked Leanna.
“What do you mean, again?” asked Loran.
“The great castle war was brought on by an advisory from my land,” said Topen. “I thought we had seen the last of him, but . . . .”
“Why does an evil from your land wish to destroy my family?” Loran inquired, bewildered by the new revelation.
“Because it was an Avileen who rescued me,” said Topen.
When Leanna moved to be near her daughter, and wrapped her arm around Loran’s shoulders, Topen knew it was time that Loran understood what she might face.
“My lineage has a long history of worshiping the blackened stones. The blackened stones do not use the silvering solution, but wield their great power by feeding on the darkness within us, and never without a price. I was exposed to their influence when I was just a young child and was lucky to escape with my mind intact.”
Topen walked over to Loran and pulled up his sleeve—to show the pronounced scar that covered his flesh at the bend of his arm. The faded image took the outline of a small scorpion.
“This is the mark that the stones drew on me. I will wear the scar the whole of my life,” Topen proclaimed, “as a reminder,” he whispered, while drifting back into the room. “Achilliam—your great-great-grandfather—sheltered and protected me when I ran away from my home. My parents fought Achilliam to force my return, but they greatly underestimated his skillfulness, and my will to escape. The use of the blackened stones eventually consumed my parents, and it was my uncle, Nepsaril, who blamed Achilliam for the madness they endured for years before their deaths.”
Loran stood in shock, trying to absorb all that Topen had exposed to her.
“After my parents died, Nepsaril knew he could not satisfy his vengeance on Achilliam—at least not without sacrificing his own life, so he sought out his son, Rondros. My uncle eventually arrived in this land, but after Rondros’s time had passed. It was Nepsaril who began the great castle war.”
“Our fate is through no fault of Topen,” said Leanna. “Your great-great-grandfather, a man who has never seen this land, rescued a boy from evil’s grasp. And that boy, who has grown into the honorable man you see before you, has sacrificed much to the Avileen decedents.”
Loran dipped her head as tears filled her eyes.
“I’m sorry,” Loran said to Topen. “I do not mean to react so strongly. I just can’t envision such hate as to pursue its hunger through generations of Avileens.”
“I will do all I can to change the path evil has set for your family,” promised Topen.
Loran wiped her eyes and fashioned a determined look on her face.
“No, Topen . . . We will!” vowed Loran.
Chapter Ten
THE SILVERING - PART II
DARKNESS DRAPED THE WESTERN EDGE of the castle when Liam’s horse navigated the narrow path towards a tall door, cut into the wall that surrounded the castle. Since it opened near the guard’s quarters, the castle protectors and their families often used this entrance to traverse in and out of the castle. At this late hour, an iron bolt fortified the door—it slid into the reinforced hole in the hard stone surrounding the entry.
When Liam arrived at the door, he found it secured. He removed his hood and looked high up the wall—where he viewed a great cluster of stars overhead on this moonless night. The sound of a sliding bolt preceded the door swinging inward, where Claire, with a lamp hoisted in her hand, beckoned Liam to enter quickly. He passed through the opening Claire provided without delay.
“The guards are nearby, we must hurry,” whispered Claire. She secured the door and slid the bolt back into the stone. “Quickly, this way.”
The two figures made their way to the inner castle entrance, while avoiding detection from the guards that paced along the edge of the outer wall. Near an entrance to the inner castle was a small bucket filled with water.
“Take the bucket,” Claire instructed.
Without question, Liam leaned down to retrieve the pail. They entered the inner castle through an archway and proceeded down a hall.
“Should we be detected, keep your head down and do not speak. I will tell the guard you are helping me to bring the water my lady has requested.”
“Are you really a chambermaid? Because you truly seem to enjoy being in charge on our little quest,” q
uipped Liam.
Claire stopped in the hall and blocked Liam’s movement.
“Maybe all your wealth will cause you to be safe from what threatens us all, but if you truly are here to help my lady, you will take our need to remain undiscovered more seriously,” snapped Claire.
They resumed their momentum through the castle.
“Do not judge me too harshly, chambermaid, my mother worked in your position to support a family that lost a husband and father in the castle war. I am not as far removed as you would think.”
Claire swallowed hard at Liam’s disclosure and glanced at him as they walked.
“Forgive my stern words; I sometimes forget my place,” she confessed.
“There is nothing to forgive. With the trust my lady has conveyed upon you, I have no doubt you have earned your right to speak freely,” said Liam. “And I will take heed of your words.”
A smile crossed Claire’s face as she held the lamp high—illuminating their way along the dark corridor.
* * *
Rolam and Kelamar passed through the entrance to Loran’s chambers, and were surprised to find Leanna in attendance.
“I have tried to guess who Loran spoke of when she said another would be attending tonight. I confess, your name did not enter my mind, Leanna,” said Kelamar. “You have hidden your concerns with great skill.”
“I must agree with Kelamar. How long have you and Loran been united in opposition to Gervest?” Rolam asked.
“We should all sit and be comfortable,” Loran recommended. “When the remainder of our gathering is present, we will share our knowledge between us.”
“Who else will be attending to reveal their allegiance?” asked Kelamar.
“Topen has been here all day. He has remained undisclosed to all outside this room,” said Leanna.
Kelamar’s spirit rose high on Leanna’s announcement.
“Now I believe that Rolam was correct when he lauded the prowess of Loran’s strategies,” praised Kelamar.
“Who else has been invited?” asked Rolam.
“Mother has asked Liam Preece to attend,” said Loran.
Kelamar scowled at the mention of his name.
“I do not believe that merchant is unaware that his wife frequents Gervest’s bedchamber,” scoffed Kelamar. “How can you trust a man who demonstrates such spinelessness?” Kelamar asked Leanna.
“Liam’s actions in this matter do not stem from weakness or a child’s naiveté, but from a boldness that has created an advantage we might use,” assured Leanna.
A couple of light taps on the chamber door is all that preceded its opening by Claire.
“My lady, we were not seen,” said Claire.
“Yes, your emissary was most diligent,” proclaimed Liam, as he strode into the room.
“Thank you, Claire,” said Leanna. “You can retire. I will see that Liam remains undetected on his exit from the castle.”
“Yes, my lady,” replied Claire. She receded from the entrance and pulled the door shut.
“This is quite the gathering,” observed Liam. “I am most surprised to see you here, Rolam.”
“That is refreshing to hear, Liam. It is comforting that we can still maintain a measure of secrecy in our communications.”
Liam nodded at Rolam’s comment without further banter.
“So, where is Topen?” snapped Kelamar.
“Not far from your commanding voice, Kelamar,” answered Topen from the other room.
Kelamar rose in excitement when he saw Topen walk towards the table. He embraced him with an excited smile and slapped his hand across his back.
“I did not know when, but I did know you would return to us,” said Kelamar.
“I think the years have made you sentimental, my friend,” said Topen.
Kelamar let loose his familiar gregarious laugh, but on this occasion, a sense of relief accompanied it.
After everyone had been seated around the table, Loran stood up to address the gathering.
“There is not one among us who desires to see Gervest as sovereign. We each hold unique knowledge, skills, or resources that will help us in our quest to see that he does not ascend. However, we face something greater than the harshness that would be Gervest’s rule. He is not alone in the desire to control our lands.”
Loran eased into her chair and clasped her hands where they rested on the table.
“Gervest has a master,” Loran blurted out. “A very powerful and evil controller who has his own agenda, that unfortunately, remains hidden from us.”
Stunned expressions mirrored across the faces of those surprised by Loran’s shocking reveal.
“I would say the time for complete disclosure is in order,” said Rolam. “Who is this master that controls our brother?”
“I believe he is from my land,” spoke Topen. “I will soon know if this is true.”
“Your land?” Quizzed Kelamar. “Do you mean to tell us that Nepsaril has returned from the dead?”
“His death was never for certain, Kelamar,” said Leanna.
“Well, a bloody pile of burning ashes should be sufficient proof,” insisted Kelamar.
“If Nepsaril did survive, he has not revealed himself in our realm,” said Topen.
“Though I was quite young during the castle war,” said Liam, “Nepsaril is not a name I could ever forget. The day my father died, he was defending the east wall of the castle, high above those who were trying to breach the walls—among them, Nepsaril. At one point, my father was slashing any ropes that managed to latch onto the top of the wall, when a tremendous explosion blew away the wall beneath him. He slipped into the gap, and if the fall didn’t kill him, the remaining bits of wall surely did when they fell from above.”
“I never knew your father defended the castle,” said Kelamar.
“My father was one of many who believed as the sovereign did, that the provinces should be united, but remain free to benefit from the prosperity of their own lands. The senseless accident that claimed the life of Gilvius’s father meant that Gilvius was destined to become the young sovereign who began his reign with war. Fortunately, for all the provinces, Gilvius received the compassion and wisdom of his father. I believe these same qualities have passed to Rolam as well.”
“As do I,” echoed Kelamar.
“But there is one part of this story that has always haunted me,” Liam continued. “It has been said that Nepsaril brought that castle wall down himself, with nothing but his outstretched hand. The name the townspeople called Nepsaril after that day was the evi—”
“Evil sorcerer,” interrupted Rolam. “Though I didn’t know your father was on that wall, tales of the evil sorcerer lingered long past the early days of victory. In my childhood, the stories often had the sorcerer conjuring a beast that slammed into the wall, causing it to crumble.”
“Much has been kept out of our history of those times,” said Leanna. “Nepsaril did possess magical powers, as does Loran . . . and you, Rolam,” Leanna revealed, her compassionate eyes meeting Rolam’s across the table.
Leanna’s disclosure shook only the two among the group who did not know that magic was real. Though stunned, Rolam stayed outwardly calm and studied his mother’s face, attempting to determine if she had somehow lost her sanity. Liam sprang from his chair and looked at all the unruffled faces around him. He retreated a few steps, but he could determine from the reactions that Leanna’s words must somehow be true. However, his first response was visceral, and full of denial.
“What kind of foolishness is this? There is no such thing as magical powers—beyond that imagined in a child’s game.”
Topen rose from the table and extended his hand in front of him. A swirl of blue and white light intermingled above his palm and formed a spinning ball. Liam’s eyes fixed on the spectacle as a miniature version of Daramose appeared in Topen’s palm—the whirling light faded as Daramose’s image solidified. The palm-sized horse—looking every bit like his larger nam
esake—jumped from Topen’s hand when he lowered it to the table. The miniature horse ran to the center of the table and leaped into the air—before disappearing in a puff of smoke. Both Liam and Rolam watched the trails of smoke dissipate in the air.
“Forgive my inelegant demonstration, but our time together is brief. We must share the knowledge we hold and devise strategy long before the dawn arrives,” proclaimed Topen.
Liam rejoined the others at the table. Questions and information began to flow at a feverish pace between them. At the end of two and a half hours, they agreed to follow the initial strategy that Loran put forth. Everyone knew what was expected, and the resources required for their common goal.
Kelamar was the first to leave after the group dispersed.
“I will see that Liam finds his way safely out of the castle,” assured Topen.
“After this night, I’m inclined to believe that you can,” Liam remarked, as he strolled out the door ahead of Topen.
Rolam watched the two men exit before he directed his attention to Leanna.
“Magical? I feel like a child who has been sheltered from reality,” Rolam professed to his mother.
Leanna embraced her son and then took his hand—guiding him.
“Keeping up with reality is a never ending task; it is more elusive than we can ever know. Loran and I have much more to tell you . . . let us start with the mirror.”
* * *
Topen and Liam stood outside the western entrance of the castle—having just passed through the door in the wall without detection. Liam’s horse grazed nearby as Topen pulled the door shut and drew his hand along the bolt’s path; it secured itself into the wall on the other side.
“That’s a useful trick,” quipped Liam. He climbed on his horse and stared down at Topen. “Do you not intend to return through that entrance?”
“I will take another path.”
“There is something I left out from the story of my father . . . something I didn’t dare think possible before tonight,” Liam admitted. “It was said my father vanished in mid-air as he was falling to his death. Neither my mother nor I ever took that part of the story seriously—even though his body was one of many never recovered, but now I wonder if it is possible that was true. Is there some magic that could have snatched him safely away?”